Title: Wind
Author: Rather Dashing
Rating: PG-13 for maybe some violence and language. The first chapter is a rough PG though, so no worries.
Disclaimer: Not my characters.
Pairing: None – straight up general.
Warning: Not that I can think of.
Spoilers: Uh, Well, anything in the pilot is fair game.
Summary: Back together after so many years, Sam and Dean look through their father's journal for any clues and come across an interesting demon, but what they get is a lot more than they bargained for.

Wind – Chapter One: Chimes

Sam stole a quick glance at his older brother. It had almost been twelve hours now on the road and he had to admit that he was exhausted; the only problem was that Dean would have nothing of it. They both sat in rough silence, listening intently to the sounds of their surroundings. Sam's mind was beginning to fog, he was slightly aware that his head was tipping. Of course falling asleep behind the wheel wasn't on his to-do list, nor was killing his only brother in a fiery car crash, but he couldn't help it. He was just about to nod off when a harsh voice pierced into his heavy mind.

"Turn here," Dean ordered, sitting up in his seat and pointing to the next left turn. Sam's head shot up and he blinked furiously to wipe away any remnants of the sleep that he almost fell into and took the turn with ease. Dean sat back, apparently satisfied with his job and once again the silence came. Sam was a little frightened now. Maybe if he rallied his older brother into an enthusiastic conversation, he would be able to stay awake. It was worth a shot, but he hadn't seen Dean in so long that he was just now coming to realize that he didn't know him anymore.

Sure, Dean was still obnoxious, rowdy, and a goof-ball, but what Sam didn't know was what had been going on in his life up until now. He thought about venturing into that territory. Surely Dean's voice would keep him awake. Hopefully.

"So how have you been?" He asked, trying to sound interested. Dean cast a look over and broke into a grin.

"You're falling asleep aren't you?" Dean said mischievously. Sam looked away and cursed himself. His brother could read him like a book – how could he have forgotten that? "It's okay." He assured. "I understand. You're just not used to driving my wonderful car."

"What I am not used to is not sleeping. You're car is like all the other cars." Sam shot back. Sometimes it annoyed him how much Dean cared about the car.

"We're almost there. The fresh air will wake you up."

"If I don't kill us both before-"

"Here it is. Pull in here." Dean interrupted, gesturing frantically to the right. They had veered off the main road hours ago and now came upon a small opening in a large wooded area. He pulled in, killed the engine, and stiffly maneuvered himself out of the car. It felt weird to stand after all of that time, like his legs had forgotten how to work.

A chilly breeze messed up his hair and made him wrap his arms around himself. He could hear a wind chime somewhere, but he didn't see any houses. Dean brushed passed him, taking the keys and opening the trunk.

"Uh, you never told me what we're doing." Sam said, joining him in the back. The way his feet crunched on the gravel made him shiver. Dean looked up and glared at him.

"We're looking for dad," He answered dumbly, then returned to packing the bags.

"Yeah, but why here?" Sam tried again. He always hated when Dean made things difficult.

"'Cause of this," Dean said, pulling their father's journal out and plopping in onto the top of the car. The page it was opened to showed a shadowy looking demon, its eyes the only thing colored and its claws stretching to the bottom of the page. It hardly had as much information as the rest of their father's records.

"You think dad is uh," Sam stopped, trying to find a good way to put it, but stopped his thinking and quickly changed tactics. "He's not here."

"Yeah, but that thing is." Dean pointed messily at the paper and smiled from ear to ear. "Might as well get some information while we're here." Sam sighed, knowing it was best not to argue. Maybe it wouldn't take nearly as long as their other adventures and he could head out to get something to eat and then sleep – forever. "Come on." Dean said, thrusting a heavy bag into his arms.

They headed at an even pace into the wilderness, but Sam couldn't help but worry. Even though Dean was there, he felt terribly alone on this one. The graying skies looked old, too old to give rain, but not young enough to give sun. It unnerved him that their father hadn't found out that much about this one. The only thing written in the journal was a sloppy description and a location. There was also a small map with a lake in the middle. It was circled three times.

The leaves were loud under his feet, making it nearly impossible to walk silently
"Do you hear that?" Dean asked from a few feet in front of him. Sam listened closely and assumed he was talking about the wind chime that was definitely getting steadily louder.

"Yeah, I've heard it since we pulled in," He answered, repositioning the bag on his shoulder. Dean looked back, lifting his eyebrows.

"I didn't," He said and looked back again. "Check the journal." Sam did as he was told, though he knew he wouldn't see anything more than "Gorman Forest, Lake Gorman, pos." Sam looked at the three letters. They were smeared terribly, making it almost impossible to read, but he assumed it meant position.

"Nothing. Don't you find it strange that dad barely has anything written down for this one? Maybe that is a sign for us to, you know, not be here. " Sam whined. This was the last thing he wanted to be doing. Dean scoffed from ahead, not really realizing how much faster he was going. They were almost fifteen feet away from each other and Sam was getting worried. He tried speeding up, but it only made him trip on the thick underbrush. He sighed, admitting defeat. "Hey, Dean, can you-" Before he could finish, something streaked past him. It was large but so fast that he only saw a shadow. It hit into his leg and he stumbled to the ground. The wind chime he had been hearing since they got out of the car ceased even though the wind still blew. Dean turned around and looked down.

"You okay?" He asked. Sam winced as he stood.

"Didn't you see that?" He looked around and slowly made his way to Dean who had finally stopped.

"You tripped, I understand. You don't have to make things up." His older brother stated as if he was sparing him of some great embarrassment. Sam chose to leave it alone and vowed to this time keep up with Dean, no matter how obnoxious he was. Ten minutes passed before the wind chime started up, though this time it was again faint and distant. He chose to ignore it, but lifted their father's journal and wrote in the margin: "Wind Chimes." It obviously meant something, even if they weren't sure what.

It didn't take much longer for them to reach the lake. It was really low, revealing a long stretch of dried sand that led into its swampy-green water. Sam could only imagine what was in there.

"Guess we'll stop here for a bit," Dean stated, dropping his bag. Sam watched him dig through it until he found a knife and then approach the water. "Why don't you get us some fire wood there, Sammy?" Sam looked away.

"Yeah, sure." He said dejectedly. He hated it when Dean called him "Sammy." He wasn't four! But Dean had always called him that – always. He didn't waste any time in moving and quickly wandered into the woods for some wood. He had about as much as he could carry when he finally broke back into the clearing at the lake. He dropped the wood near Dean's bag and looked around for his brother.

He couldn't imagine what Dean had left to go do. It wasn't like him to wander off like that.

"Dean?" he called out and felt his heart speed up when he realized how loud the wind chime noise was getting. "Dean?" he shouted more frantically. His breathing was loud in his ears and every crack of sticks or creak of a tree made him jump. Something touched his back causing a coldness to spread there like illness. He leapt forward, but whatever it was gripped his shoulders and forced him to the ground.

He was shaking on his knees now, so violently that the world in front of him looked as if it were jumping up and down. The thing behind him tightened its painful grip and then leaned forward. Sam couldn't describe it, not even if he really wanted to. Every time he thought he knew what its blackened face looked like, it twisted and morphed into something else. Its breath was not hot but incredibly cold against his neck, making his skin sting.

It moved its mouth, but the only thing he heard were wind chimes and hushed whispers. They filled his mind until he was sure it was going to burst from the noise. It made him dizzy and he pitched forward. Sam never felt the ground hit into him.

90459282

Alright. I have most of the next chapter written; I just thought that a little suspense was in order. Sorry peoples. This story will be roughly three chapters and an epilogue, I think. Don't hold me to that. I have the ending all planned out and it's just a matter of writing. Feedback is welcome! Oh, and I'm sorry if I messed up and spelled "sam" - "same" I'm not sure why but I kept messing that one up. Oh, and the next chapters will be a lot longer! No worries on that.