Sam (Chapter 1/?)
Title: Sam
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: PG this chapter, NC-17 overall
Category: Thriller, mystery
Summary: Dean goes on a hunt in a haunted house and is not prepared for what's waiting for him.
Disclaimer: This is just a fanfic of Supernatural.
Notes: Self beta-ed. Please let me know if you find any error that's really distracting. Enjoy!!
No hunting in ancient haunted house in rainy days.
That's what Dean Winchester thinks when he closes the Impala's door.
While running in a slouching position towards the dark abandoned house, he thinks about where John has to go so urgently that he has to leave his sons in the middle of a hunt. Minnesota, what's in Minnesota anyway?
Mysteries incidents has been happening in this small town since last week. Townsmen said that people disappeared and strange creatures came out of nowhere to attack people. Many people have fled the town, saying that something "unholy" has arrived in the town, that they can feel it in the air.
After talking to a handful of people, Dean learned about this house. It is located at the outskirt of the town, and has been empty for more years than people can remember. They said it used to belong to a wealthy family, but something happened and they moved out in haste.
This is the only lead he got. After John left yesterday he decided to check out the house himself, but now he's cursing himself for not checking the weather. The house looks haunted even if no one told him so.
The house is even bigger than it looks from outside. Dean holds on to his flashlight and tried to see as far ahead as he can.
Just ten minutes in the house his flashlight gave up, and he is left in total darkness. Shit. He muttered the curse under his breath. When his eyes finally get used to the dark, all he can make out are shadows.
He wants to go back to the front door and leave. Without any light he is not in a position to hunt anything in this house at night.
Then he finds that he is lost. Somehow the corridors seem different from before. He keeps on walking in one direction, thinking no matter how big this house is there got to be an end.
He hits a door. It looks like it is leading to a big hall. Dean opens the door thinking maybe he will find a large window to break out.
He was right. There is a row of large windows on the left side of the hall, but his relief only last for a second. At the back of the dark hall there is a large chair, and someone (or something) is sitting on it.
Shotgun loaded in hand and heart pounding, Dean walks towards the shadow gingerly.
It is not moving. Maybe it is a corpse. Dean thinks. The place is so dark that even the outline is blurry.
Maybe I should shoot it first then check, that's safer. Dean thinks again. It's only loaded with salt rounds anyway. His aim is good so if that's a normal person it will just hurt a bit, won't actually harm.
He lifts the gun, points at the shadow, and prepares to pull the trigger…
"Hold it." The shadow speaks in a calm, soft tone.
Dean jumped. Holy shit he thought. He is relieved that he did not just shoot a person, but now he is worried about what kind of freak will sit in the middle of a haunted house in the middle of the night.
"Who're you? What're you doing in this house? It's abandoned!" Dean shouts.
"So are you. What're you doing here?" The voice sounds amused.
Maybe it is the tone, or the voice that makes Dean shudder. Why does it sound so familiar? No he had not heard this voice before, but something in it makes him hesitant.
Dean doesn't know how to reply. He did not prepare to talk to a person here. He only prepared to burn some ancient bones.
"How old are you?" The voice is so gentle, and there is something that shouldn't be there. Does he actually sounded… longing?
"That's none of your business!" Dean found his voice again and yelled. He is actually a bit afraid now. Not that he will admit to anyone.
"What year is this?"
Dean grabs tight on his gun. This man is definitely no normal person. Is he a ghost? Maybe he just has to remind him that time has passed and he should move on.
"This is 1998. Are you in the wrong year?"
"1998… so you're 18 years old."
Dean almost dropped his gun out of surprise. He lifts the gun back up and points at the shadow, finger on trigger.
"No, Dean, you don't want to shoot me."
"What are you? Answer or I'll shoot! Now!"
"My name is Sam." The shadow stands up. He must be way over six feet, because Dean is almost six feet and this guy looks a lot taller than him.
And he is walking towards Dean.
"Stop there! I said I'll shoot!" Dean is actually thinking about running now. Something about this guy tells him that he is in dare danger.
"Dean, don't be afraid. I won't hurt you."
The guy's voice is like a spell. Dean doesn't know what to do. The man stops in front of him, left hand holding the barrel of Dean's gun. Then he moves close to embrace Dean, who already has his Swiss army knife ready on his left hand.
He is about to push the knife forward. That's when his nose hit the man's shoulder, and then he has to stop.
The man smells really familiar. He smells exactly like his kid brother who is fourteen years old but still acts like a child and has to be tucked in for the night after taking a shower, whose name is also Sam.
Dean drops his knife to the floor without thinking.
The man holds Dean so tight he almost can't breathe.
"I've been waiting for you for so long."
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