Well, here's the next story! I've planned at least one more. Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoy it, and PLEASE review! :)
Sam flipped another page, frowning as he found more of the same crap he had been looking at for hours now. He slammed the book shut with a growl of frustration, hands coming up to rub at his throbbing temples. He had a nasty headache, probably from looking at the small Latin print for so long. He had been trying to find information about others like him, if they had ever existed and, if they had, how they learned to master their abilities. So far, he had found nothing.
"Oh, S-s-s-a-a-a-a-a-a-ammmmmmmy-y-y-y-y-y-y!" Dean called loudly in a sing-song tone, walking into the kitchen.
Sam winced and tensed, his fingers digging into his temples, trying to quell the sudden flare in pain Dean's call caused.
Dean immediately paused, concern crossing his features. "Sam?" his voice was soft now, barely audible.
Sam just shook his head, folding in on himself as the pain flared again, then again, finally pulling a choked, sobbing cry from him. He would have slid out of the chair, if not for strong, solid arms that wrapped around him. He was only dimly aware of Dean pulling him into his lap, where he was sitting on the floor.
Dean was holding him gently but tightly, unsure of what to expect. So far, the symptoms had gotten worse every time. He wasn't sure it could get any worse than it had been.
He had thought too soon.
Sam suddenly jerked, his lips opening in a soundless scream, unable to get enough breath to make a sound, the pain blinding, overwhelming. His whole body rigid, strained in Dean's arms, his fingernails digging into his own palms hard enough to draw blood. Tears ran freely down his face, his eyes screwed shut tightly.
This cycle of pain and strained silence lasted what felt like an eternity before finally, finally, Sam stiffened even further, his breath cutting off completely.
Come on, Sam. Come on. "It's almost over, kiddo. It's almost over." Dean brushed his fingers through Sam's hair soothingly, trying not to count the seconds till Sam started breathing again.
Sam went limp with a small sigh, his skin ghost white and dripping sweat, his eyes softly closed, mouth slack, no strength in his limbs. His chest was almost still, taking only shallow breaths.
"Sammy?" Dean's voice was almost inaudible, not wanting to aggravate the headache Sam was sure to have.
A soft moan answered his call, Sam stirring a little. His eyes opened slowly, glazed over and exhaustion shining clearly from them. Dean knew Sam wouldn't be able to tell him about the vision now. Running a gentle hand through Sam's hair, Dean whispered softly, "It's okay, Sammy. It's over. Sleep. I'll watch your back, baby brother. Relax."
Sam nodded slightly, his eyes already sliding closed.
The second Sam's breathing slowed, Dean let out a sigh of both relief and sadness. Dang, Sam. This is getting really bad. What now?
…...
Sam stirred three hours later. Dean had managed to move him to the couch and did his best to keep his little brother comfortable while he recovered. He had had way too much time to contemplate what Sam had seen and what it might mean for them, pacing back and forth in front of the couch, unwilling to leave his brother's side.
Grateful that the wait was finally over, Dean eased himself down on the couch next to Sam, watching mostly patiently as Sam began to wake, his eyes fluttering open. For a moment, there was confusion visible in his face as he oriented himself to his surroundings and realized who was sitting right next to him.
"Hey." he finally greeted, his voice slightly hoarse from the earlier strain.
"Hey, kiddo. How ya feeling? You up to telling me what you saw?"
Sam nodded, struggling for a moment to push himself up, before reluctantly accepting Dean's help. "I'm fine. My head hurts."
I could have guessed that, buddy.
"As for what I saw..." Sam's already pale complexion paled further, giving him a ghostly look that made Dean extremely uneasy, churning a nasty feeling in his gut.
"It's okay, Sammy. If you're not ready to tell me, you don't have to." he hastened to reassure.
Sam shook his head. "This really can't wait." he sighed, then took a deep breath, and continued. "I saw the demon. You know. The one that-" Sam cut off, seeing the sudden understanding in Dean's eyes. "He's nearby. About 100 miles away in this old warehouse. I could probably take us right to it. I'm not sure why he's there, but he is."
Sam hesitantly looked up at his big brother, wondering what he was thinking. There was a thoughtful expression on his face.
"We could go right now. Finish this once and for all." Dean's voice was soft, almost as if the thought was just occurring to him and he hadn't meant to say it out loud.
The moment seemed frozen in time, Dean looking at Sam, Sam trying to gauge Dean's emotions. Are we ready for this? Is this really it? Can we finally avenge mom?
"Let's call dad. Then we can go."
…...
They hadn't been able to reach their father. After leaving several days before, John had been dumped waist deep in a hunt that had then taken all of his attention. He had, surprisingly, taken the time to warn them that he would more likely than not be out of touch for days, but to call if there was an emergency.
They left a note for Bobby, who had also left for a hunt nearby that couldn't be ignored, on the table, explaining where they were and what Sam had seen.
They were prepped and in the Impala five minutes later.
A strange drive seemed to be pushing them on, overtaking them. A nervous energy filled them both, seeming to almost hum in the small space between them. This was it. After years and years of searching and struggling, they had finally pinpointed the demon's location. They were going to finish it tonight.
Or die trying.
…...
"Alright. I think we should split up. He doesn't know we're coming, we have the element of surprise. I'll go in the front door, give me a minute head start, then follow."
Dean had fallen into hunter mode the second they reached the warehouse. Focused and intense as usual, Dean was fingering his gun, bouncing up on the balls of his feet, anxious to start the hunt.
Sam gave him a firm nod, then watched as Dean began to walk towards the warehouse, that they had parked a ways away from so they didn't give away their presence with the sound of the Impala's engines.
He literally counted down the seconds till it was his turn to leave. Checking his gun one last time, Sam started towards the warehouse.
…...
Dean snuck forward, checking the warehouse room by room. He felt more on edge than he normally would during a hunt. They were the hunting the demon and it had set every fiber of his being on fire, waiting for the opportunity to act, to avenge their mother's death, their own destroyed childhoods.
"Why, hello, Dean."
Oh crap.
…...
Dean circled his opponent, his gun ready and aimed, his finger screaming at him to pull the trigger. Not like it would do much good against a demon.
"How did you know we were coming?" Dean growled, trying to distract the demon long enough for his backup, Sam, to arrive.
The demon snorted. "Do you honestly think I wouldn't have methods of keeping an eye on the boy that I failed to kill all those years ago? The supposed 'threat' to us?" the demon laughed mockingly. "Samuel is no more than a child, sent to do a man's job. A mortal doing the work of a god. Special abilities or not, Samuel is not and will never be a threat."
Dean gave him a tight, challenging grin. "Spoken like a true demon: a failure who is too proud to admit it."
The demon scowled. "Arrogant hunter! Do you really want to challenge me? I could make your death painful, slow. I could make your brother watch as you slowly bleed together. Or, even better, I'll make you watch as I torture your brother, destroy him, make him scream and beg for mercy."
Dean couldn't help it. He fired, three shots, aimed right between that stupid #%#$^#$#'s eyes. "Over my dead body." he snarled, visciously.
In the blink of an eye, the demon was holding a knife in each hand. "As you wish."
It threw the first knife, Dean managing to dive to the side to avoid it. The second knife was thrown and Dean had nowhere to go, no possible way to move fast enough to avoid it. Oh no. Sam. Was his final thought as he watched it speed towards him.
Then, suddenly, Sam was dropping down in front of him from goodness knew where.
"NO! SAMMY!"
