Title: Twilight of My Mind
Author: Disasteriffic Kaz
Info: While hunting a nest of Vampires, the Ghostfacers indirectly put the Winchesters on the radar of an 'alternative' clan of vampires bent on their deaths. Post 6x09 "Clap your hands if you believe"
Author's note: This first chapter might…wander a bit. It's RoboSam's fault. He throws me off my game. LOL Now I know why I haven't written him before now. So…enjoy?
Do please Review once you've read. :D Every comment and vote of support helps keep me writing. Not to mention if I've pooched anything, someone can always tell me. :P
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Tormented thoughts, they roam my soul
Digging holes of anguish in my mind
Eyes of fire, wishing I were dead
The shadows laughing all the tears I shed
Faceless creatures crawling
I can't take this pain
All this struggling- oh it was in vain
It happens in the twilight of my mind
-Meduza: Twilight of my mind
CHAPTER 1
Dean woke up slowly, groaning his way into a hangover and blinked bleary eyes around the motel room. He frowned when he saw the bed next to his. The blanket pulled back, the sheets mussed and the pillow with a head shaped depression in it; it looked like Sam had actually slept in it. He scowled knowing that wasn't the case. Sam didn't sleep. Sam without a soul had no need for sleep. Ever. So why did the slept in bed make him nervous? He pushed himself up as the bathroom door opened and Sam came out drying his hair.
"Morning." Sam said and gave him a fake smile.
"You actually slept?" Dean asked and gestured at the bed.
Sam shook his head. "You always look irritated when you wake up and see the neat bed. Figured if I messed it up you'd be more comfortable."
"Well that's…kind of disturbing." Dean said and climbed out of the bed. "Not that I don't appreciate the…sentiment."
"Right." Sam looked at him momentarily confused and then shook his head, done with that particular conversation. "Found us a hunt."
Dean groaned. "I need a shower then you can tell me what your over-active puppet mind got up to while I was sleeping." He stepped into the bathroom and gratefully closed the door. He'd thought having Sam be himself would be better but after the Faeries….and he had to roll his eyes at that, had showed him that no matter what he thought he was more comfortable with the thing in his brother's body faking it. It helped remind him what they were fighting for; what he was fighting for. The need to see the warmth and love in Sam's eyes choked him sometimes when he looked at him. He'd once asked Castiel to take him personally into the Cage and demanded that he'd either save Sam's soul himself or die trying. The Angel had given him a pitying look and refused on the grounds that first it was impossible and second that Dean wasn't in his right mind.
He snorted and turned on the shower. Dean didn't know a single person who could claim to be in their right mind these days. They were working for the King of friggin Hell. Nothing was right with his world these days.
Sam listened to the shower turn on and then set about straightening the mess he'd made of the bed he never used. It was tiring trying to find the right balance of himself and what Dean seemed to need him to be which, honestly, was something he just could never be without his soul. He understood in a clinical sense that some of his actions had been betrayals. He had filed away a list of Dean's expressions and their meanings in categories of 'good', 'bad' and 'dangerous enough to get me dead'.
Sam had actually found this particular hunt several days ago and had been weighing his chances of Dean actually agreeing to it or beating him senseless for suggesting it. He'd finally decided Dean would just have to deal with it. There were monsters in need of killing. The bed tidied he sat at the table and ordered his notes, flipping the laptop open though he had all the particulars memorized. The notes were for Dean who chose that moment to emerge from the bathroom.
Dean glanced over and couldn't stop the smirk that tugged at his mouth. Sam surrounded by piles of research was a very familiar sight and a comforting one but better than that was the donut box and large coffee waiting for him at the table. He tossed his towel on his bed and dropped into the chair across from his brother, opening the donut box with a happy sniff of its contents.
"So, what's the hunt?" Dean bit dreamily into a jelly filled donut and sipped his coffee.
"Vampires." Sam said succinctly and waited as Dean's eyes widened and the donut froze part way to his mouth.
"Uh huh." Dean said finally and set the donut down, no longer hungry.
"Look, I know how you feel." Sam started and then rolled his eyes when Dean snorted. "Okay I don't really but I understand why you'd be…wary of taking this job. I swear Dean that will never happen again. Never. I've got my Jiminy now, remember?" Sam gave him a smile that for a moment almost looked real and Dean looked away.
"Damn right it won't." Dean muttered. He couldn't help the wash of memories that flooded him for a moment; the vampire who had turned him, the blood, the hunger and his little brother watching, just watching, letting it happen. He shook his head to clear them away and looked back. "You pimp me out again to find the nest and I swear to god, Sam. First throat I rip out is yours."
"Dean, it was a mistake." Sam raised his hands in placation. "Nothing like that is ever going to happen again."
Dean studied his face and then nodded. "Alright. What's the story?"
Sam smiled at having gotten his way without losing any blood. He much preferred reasonable Dean. "Ok, so three deaths so far." He flipped the relevant articles over to Dean. "All drained with teeth marks. There've also been a few missing cases. I figure they were taken to turn."
"Ok that's creepy." Dean said, reading the second article, then the third. "All three of these people had teeth marks in their neck and their inner thighs." He smirked. "I guess if you gotta go happy."
"I've done some digging. From what I can tell it looks like a fairly small nest which is likely why they've started taking people." Sam turned the laptop around. "There are actually clear vamp kills going back for twenty years but they're picking up speed now."
"Big Daddy Vamp sent out the call." Dean said and glared down at the news articles. He understood in a way Sam never would just what the bloodsuckers were up to. "Ok. Let's get packed. We can be there by tomorrow morning if we start out now. Gives us the day to find the nest. Let's put 'em down before they make any more."
"Good plan." Sam started piling up the papers and his laptop as Dean stood and he smiled reassuringly. "This'll be an easy hunt."
"Dude! Never say that." Dean groaned and tossed a pillow at him. "What's wrong with you?" He rolled his eyes and looked skyward. "He didn't mean it. Please don't screw us on this hunt."
"Dean. Who are you talking to?" Sam asked, thoroughly confused.
"No one, Sam." Dean sighed and went back to packing up the room. Those particular words leaving a Winchester's mouth never led to good things as he had well learned over the course of his life. It was like the Fates took notice. "We are so humped."
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-Somewhere in Wisconsin-
"Ed? Ed! Stop messing with the camera." Harry Spangler waved an irritated hand at his friend and partner.
"Hang on. It's just…it's tilted." Ed Zeddmore righted it, checking the view screen and then stepped in front of it beside Ed. "Alright folks! Today the Ghostfacers will be teaching you about Vampires! That's right kids and we don't mean those glitter wearing, pansy saps from Twilight."
Harry smirked. "We're talking real Vampires here. Bloodsuckers you most definitely do NOT want to dream about being. None of that Anne Rice crap."
"Ok, first off, weapons." Ed stepped back and around a counter along with Harry. On the counter were arrayed various things and he smiled at the camera as he pointed them out. "Garlic! This is useless!"
"Unless you want to make their breath smell bad or something." Harry took the garlic and tossed it away. "Holy items! Sorry Ghostfacers but shoving a cross in a Vampires face is just going to piss them off."
"I know some of you are saying sunlight!" Ed shook his head and tsked. "That only works on Buffy. In reality, Vamps don't burst into flames and turn to ash. They get a little sunburned and they don't like it but it won't kill them."
"Dude. You mocked Buffy?" Harry scowled at him and Ed raised his hands.
"What? No! I mean only in relation to the real thing." Ed leaned in to whisper. "You know I'd never diss the Slayer? Come on, man. Focus."
"Right. Right, sorry. Uh…oh yeah! Dead man's blood." Harry picked up a mason jar filled with blood and grinned. "You want to slow a vampire down? This is the way. It's not going to kill them but it'll slow them down and drop them like stones."
"Yeah, they really hate this stuff." Ed chuckled. "Those douchebags the Winchesters use this a lot."
"They think they're so cool." Harry rolled his eyes. "Trust me, you ever run across the Winchesters just…"
"Flip them off and go the other way." Ed finished for him. "Dean and Sam Winchester will ruin your investigation with their douchiness." Ed glared into the camera and then took a breath, pushing back the frustration. "Now, where were we?"
"How to kill a vampire." Harry picked up a stake from the table and handed it to him.
"Now here's another bit of Hollywood that will get you killed, Ghostfacers." Ed waved the stake for emphasis. "All this is gonna do is put a hole in them. It won't kill them. You want to kill a vamp you HAVE to take off its head."
"That is the only tried and true method to axe a bloodsucker. Messy but true." Harry shrugged sadly.
"Edward?" Ed's mother's voice carried down the stairs and into the cellar. "Edward honey, should I make mini pizzas for you and your friend? I've got that Fontina cheese you like!"
"Mom!" Ed shouted and slapped his face into his hand. "We're filming Mom! Come on!"
"It's ok, Ed." Harry patted his shoulder in sympathy. "We can edit that out."
"Harry." Ed turned him away from the camera and hissed in a low voice. "We're live you idiot!"
Harry whipped his head back to look at the camera and gave it a goofy grin. "Uh…oh. Crap."
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-somewhere in Iowa-
"We need to find the Winchesters." Vincent's low voice carried as he closed the laptop on the Ghostfacers. He turned to face his fellow vampires; his children. "It's clear that they are our biggest threat. Should they find us…" He trailed off meaningfully, running a tongue over his fangs and watched as some of his clan shivered. "We will find them first and make them regret ever crossing paths with our kind. Come my children."
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-Somewhere else in Iowa-
Dean eased the Impala into a space at the back of the motel they would be using. It didn't look like much but then, the town didn't look like much. "You sure they're in this town?" Dean asked of Sam as they got out.
"In it or near to it, yeah." Sam went back and waited for Dean to open the trunk then pulled out his bag. "There's a few abandoned houses and farms just outside town that would be perfect for a nest and a couple warehouses right here that are possible locations too."
Dean took out his own bag and the weapons bag and shut the trunk. He glanced up to the morning sun just peeking over the roof of the motel. "Ok, let's get set up and then we'll check out the warehouses first." He followed Sam to the room and groaned as his stomach growled. "Scratch that. Breakfast first."
Sam shrugged and opened the door on a room that had been left over from the seventies. Bright paisley wallpaper crawled across the walls, a thick curtain of beads hung in the bathroom door instead of an actual door and there was even a massive dying Spider Plant hanging in a Hemp plant-holder with its long, thin leaves trailing the floor.
"Yikes." Dean looked around and tossed his bags on the nearest bed.
"Did Hair throw up in here?" Sam walked over and twitched the beads in the bathroom door, making them tinkle together. "So, private time is going to be an issue."
"Son of a bitch." Dean rolled his eyes and pulled the salt canister from his duffel. "Let's get set up. I need food and I need to not see this room for a while. No bathroom door." He grumbled as he poured a line in the windowsill over the beds.
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Dean split up from Sam in the first warehouse against his better judgment. No matter what Sam said, part of him still had trouble trusting him where Vampires were involved. He'd shaken his head at himself and let him go off to check out the second floor while he searched the first. An hour later and they met outside with nothing for their efforts. They'd found no sign of vampires or anything in the least supernatural.
"Well this was a bust." Sam slid his machete back into its sheathe and headed for the car. "The other warehouse is only five minutes from here."
Dean nodded and delivered a parting kick to the empty warehouse. He was in the mood to kill something. "Is it too much to ask of the monsters to put up a damn 'we are here' sign once in a while?"
Sam smiled and gave him a pitying look. "Wouldn't be much of a hunt if they advertised."
Dean snarled in a bad temper and got in the Impala, the throaty growl of her engine giving him some peace as he pulled away and toward the next warehouse. He couldn't count on a lot these days but she was always there when he needed her. If Sam noticed him petting the steering wheel he wisely said nothing as they drove. Dean swore at himself silently to get it under control. He couldn't afford to be second guessing his brother on a hunt and especially not while they were in vampire territory.
"Next right." Sam told him and studied the map of the city in his lap. "Then it's just a block in. We might have to break in. I think it's gated."
"It is." Dean said as they turned on to the empty street and the long chain-link fence that flanked it into the distance. The warehouse sat off to their left behind a few smaller buildings and looking at it, Dean felt his senses tingle. "There's something in there."
"How can you know that?" Sam stared around him at the hulk of the building as they passed and scowled. "There's nothing out of place."
"Instinct, Sam." Dean said with a sure voice. "Just one of those things you don't have access to right now."
"Right." Sam nodded and rolled his eyes. "Without a soul. I have instincts."
"No you don't." Dean said with a dark laugh as he pulled up near the gate and got out. "You've got facts and figures rattling around that head of yours but no gut at all. Come on." Dean went quickly to the trunk and along with the machete he grabbed a shotgun and loaded rock salt rounds into it. He ignored the questioning look on his brother's face and handed him the other shotgun. "Better safe than sorry."
"If you say so." Sam took the gun and shut the trunk. Dean let him pick the lock on the gate and slipped inside as he pulled it open. Sam slid it shut behind them and followed his brother toward the massive warehouse. "What is it exactly your gut says is in here?"
Dean tossed an irritated look over his shoulder. "Was that sarcasm?" He went to the nearest door and gave the handle a turn, sighing when he found it locked. "I don't know, Sam. I just know there's something in here that shouldn't be." He tucked the shotgun under his arm and bent to pick the door open. "You used to know these things."
"You mean I used to feel these things." Sam retorted and silently counted in his head as Dean jimmied the lock, raising a brow as Dean opened the door a mere second short of how long Sam figured it would have taken him. "I am a better Hunter now, Dean."
"No you're not." Dean replied as he had before to this same argument. "You're a crippled Hunter, Sam. You just can't see it." He stepped inside the darkened warehouse before Sam could dredge up his usual response and took a deep breath through his nose. It smelled of wood rot from the ten and twelve foot tall stacks of pallets ahead of them. Beneath that was an odor he'd had ample years to associate with rats and he groaned softly. "I hate rats."
"You smell that?" Sam said suddenly and strode ahead of Dean softly.
"Yeah." Dean couldn't miss the oddly metallic, cloying scent of decaying meat that hung beneath everything else. "Could be an animal."
"But you don't think so." Sam nodded and skirted the first row of pallets. The warehouse looked to be full of them from what he could see with the morning sunlight coming down in dusty streamers from the skylights in the ceiling high above.
Dean shook his head and walked beside his brother down the aisle, eyes searching the gloom. He couldn't hear anything out of place and as he listened, he realized he couldn't even hear the scurrying of the rats. "It's too quiet."
They reached the end of the aisle and it split in two directions. "Split up?" Sam asked him and Dean shrugged.
"May as well. Meet in the center." Dean nodded and moved off to the right. "Don't be a hero, Sam. You find something, you come get me."
Sam nodded but said nothing as he strode away. He supposed if it were possible, he would resent the implication that he couldn't handle something on his own. He was more than capable of taking care of himself, a fact which Dean seemed determined to ignore. Sam turned another corner in the maze of pallet stacks and looked cautiously down the short aisle. As before there was nothing to see or hear.
Dean watched Sam's back vanish around a corner and turned to look back down his own aisle. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was in there, something that needed killing and every step away from Sam was making his skin crawl all the more. He suddenly felt as though he'd made a huge mistake splitting up, as though he were playing into something's hands.
"Dammit." Dean breathed and turned around to go find his brother. He jogged along the row, peering up at the top of the stacks and resisted the urge to call out for him. If something was listening he'd draw it right to him. He rounded a turn and looked down the aisle just as he heard a grunt and then the crashing of pallets toppling. Dean looked up in time to watch those next to him falling in and ducked to the ground beneath their weight as Sam's voice cried out, echoing through the warehouse.
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To Be Continued…