Exit: Light

Chapter 2

Summary: The Void is awake. Takes place after "The Big Empty", but before Castiel calls them. I had to warp time and space to make this story happen. Inspired by "Enter Sandman" by Metallica and "Locomotive Breath" by Jethro Tull

Disclaimer: Characters are owned by Warner Brothers.

Rating: PG 13 for language, drug use, and violence. Some Wincest suggested (but not what you think).

Next morning, the parking lot of a trashy budget motel

Sam leaned against the Impala. If he was very still, his head wouldn't throb. He carefully adjusted his sunglasses. For being an overcast day, it sure was bright out. Behind him, Dean slammed the motel door causing Sam to jump. "Wake up Sam!" He exclaimed, seemingly oblivious to his brother's inner turmoil. Sam didn't move.

Dean came around the car and put his hand on Sam's shoulder. "Are you OK?"

"No. No, I'm not." He winced at the sound of his own voice. Pressing his hands to either side of his head, he continued. "What happened last night….is that what you do when you disappear for hours?"

Dean was amused. "I was just trying to show you what a good time is." He pulled the keys out of his pocket. "We need to get a move on." He hopped into the driver's seat and Sam carefully got into the passenger's side, slowly arranging his six-foot-four frame so that Dean's crazy driving wouldn't make his head roll off of his shoulders.

They headed to the second house of the family that disappeared. Kate helped them search, and they found pretty much the same thing as the first: prescription bottles, overdue bills, some crack pipes, and a lot of frustration. Dean came down from upstairs and found Sam with his head on the kitchen table. "OK, look, you have a mother of a hangover. Go back to the hotel. I can take care of this. There's not much going on here anyway."

It was an indication of how bad Sam's condition was that he didn't argue. Kate drove him back to the hotel while Dean sat in the Impala and looked stuff up online. Sam had uploaded all of their journal entries on their cases and created a database that they had just recently began sharing with other hunters. It helped them track phenomenon across the country. It wasn't as fancy as what the British Men of Letters had, but they weren't interested in flash and dash. They only cared about getting the job done. So far this….thing….seemed to only be local.

Suddenly the police scanner burst into life.

"Squad 6, There's reports of unusual activity at 2813 S. Howell Street. You copy?"

"Copy. On the way."

Another voice came on. "We going to need paramedics down here! There's a crap ton of things happening!"

Yet a third voice. "There's a call about lights and vibrations. We made need backup."

Dean threw the laptop in the passenger seat and raced off.

When he pulled up to the house it looked like a stand-off was going on. There were police in riot gear circling the house and one officer was calling out on his bullhorn. Two ambulances were in standby. Dean could feel the vibration as he got nearer to the house, as well as a keening sound. He got through with his FBI ID and asked an officer what was going on. "What's happening?"

"We're not sure. We got a call from the neighbors about loud noises and lights, and now there's this vibration. There's no telling what might be in there. No one is responding to us from inside."

Dean knew he had to act quick. "I might know what this is.", he lied, "but I need to go inside alone."

The officer stared at him like he grew a second head. "Are you crazy? I can't allow that!"

"Watch me." Dean sprinted across the lawn and through the front door before anyone could stop him.

Once inside, the vibration and noise was louder, and was coming from the basement. Dean threw the door open. The light was intense, and he shielded his eyes as he walked down the stairs.

In a rec room there was a man in a recliner, and he was convulsing. Surrounding him was what looked like some kind of tornadic force, which was causing the vibration. What was most astounding, though, was the man's posture. He had his arms up and hands out, as if welcoming this violation.

And then there were his eyes.

His eyes were glowing white hot, meeting the beam from...wherever it was coming from. Dean couldn't tell, because it got brighter and more intense, causing his eyes to burn and water.

The light and vibration became unbearable, pressing him back against the wall. He couldn't get any closer, and though the light was searing he tried to watch what was happening through slitted fingers. For just a second, he thought he saw a figure standing in front of the man; it seemed that all of that energy was coming from him, joining what was emanating from the man's body.

Then with one last painful flash, it all went dark.

When the police finally came clanking down the stairs in all of their gear, they found Dean kneeling on the floor. "Hey, are you all right?" an officer asked. Dean was sweating, shaking, and looked shell shocked. His pupils were dilated as wide as they could go.

He took a moment to respond. "No." he said. "I can't see."