Timeline: Season six, after the re-souling.
Pairings: None.
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"C'mon, Sam, can't you just be glad? We finally get a good and easy Hunt and you wanna bitch about it, seriously?" Dean groaned, twisting the cap on his beer and taking a sip.
Sam threw his brother, what Dean had dubbed, the bitch-face, "Look, all I'm saying is when has anything ever been "good and easy"?"
"Sam." His brother whined, dragging out his name, "We burned the bones, ganked the spook, hell, we even got free-friggin'-pie outta the deal! Why jinx it?" At the sight of his younger brother's pathetically deadly puppy-dog eyes, he sighed, "Fine. If it makes you feel better, we'll stay until tomorrow afternoon, alright? Now, if it's alright with you, I'm going to take a shower before I grow boobs and start talking about my feelings."
"Dean," Sam called, halting his brother, "Thanks." He smiled.
Dean rolled his eyes, "Yeah, yeah. I'm awesome." He grumbled, but that didn't stop him from throwing a small smile back. Dean had missed his brother. A lot. He'd lost Sam for a whole year and when they'd finally been reunited it was like some cosmic joke. Sure, he'd had Sam's body back but what made Sam, Sam was trapped in Hell, being tortured by an angel having a temper tantrum. The soulless him had paraded around, masquerading as his brother, like some messed up puppet. Sure, he looked like Sam and sometimes even talked like Sam, but it wasn't Sam. Now that Sam was back, re-souled and ready to roll, Dean was the happiest he's been in...well, years. They could finally get back to being brothers once more.
While Dean turned hot water on, he thought about what Sam had said. He frowned and sighed, they were so jinxed.
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Sam smiled victoriously, puppy-dog eyes, worked every time.
With his brother safely hidden away, Sam was free to go over their research one last time without Dean interrupting or mercilessly teasing him about being a nerd. He just wanted to make sure they hadn't missed anything. It wasn't his fault if he preferred thoroughness. After all, it wouldn't be the first time they'd thought a Hunt was over when really it only been beginning. There was no excuse for sloppy work, and despite what Dean had said, Sam was sure his brother was just as suspicious as he was, otherwise he'd never have agreed to staying one more night. It wasn't like their track record was the greatest when it came to "good and easy", nothing was ever easy when the Winchesters were involved. Damn Winchester luck.
He picked up one of the files, shaking the thoughts away, deciding he'd better get started before Dean got out of the shower, not after, he took a seat and carefully double checked their work.
Three minutes in and suddenly his hands and feet started tingling, curious, he transferred his attention from his notes to his palms. He can't say he was expecting them to be faintly glowing. He gasped, standing up, knocking his chair over, and sending his papers flying everywhere.
The glow, it was moving. It spread up his arms and legs, engulfing his whole body, he figured now would be a good time to call for Dean. Just as he opened his mouth to shout for his big brother, the glow was gone.
"What the hell?" He wondered, confused, searching his hands and arms and wondering if he'd briefly gone crazy and imagined the whole thing.
The bathroom door swung open and his brother stormed out in a cloud of steam, "Hey Sam, did you take my-" He stopped abruptly, eyes landing on the mess Sam had made in his short frenzy.
"Uh, Dean? Yeah, sorry about that, but the weirdest thing just happened... you're not going to bitch me out about a couple'a fallen papers, are you? 'Cause, I gotta tell ya' man, that sounds more like me than you." He joked, chuckling a little. But his brother didn't seem to hear a word he said, wouldn't even look at him, in fact.
Dean frowned, "God damn it, Sam!" He growled, roughly snatching his phone from his bed, "Can't leave you alone for five fucking minutes without something happening."
"W-what?" Sam thought it was a bit of an over-reaction to such a small mess, especially when Dean had always made bigger (and often times grosser) messes than Sam.
It seemed like his brother wasn't even listening to him, though. A sudden sinking feeling had him clenching in fear, "D-Dean? Dean, hey..." But Dean wasn't listening, wasn't seeing! Oh no...
"Better be out getting me pie, or I'm going to be pissed." His brother grumbled and Sam knew right away he was hiding his worry and Holy shit if his brother was worried about him even though he was right here, than maybe he wasn't there at all, but he was fine and Dean should know that because he was right here!
"Dean!" He shouted desperately, "Dean, this better not be some kind of joke, because it isn't funny! Dean!"
Oh God, oh no. Shit. Fuck, fuck, FUCK! "Dean, please!" He begged, panic setting in. His brother couldn't hear him, couldn't see him!
"Damn it!" His brother roared, tossing his phone back on the bed. He growled, picking the phone back up.
He was dead. He was ghost. He'd died and Dean was going to have to burn his body. His brother was going to have to watch him die again and this time as a ghost. The thought made Sam choke. Dean was going to be devastated.
"No." He gasped. How could he be dead? Wouldn't he remember something? No, he answered himself, remembering all of the cases they'd worked where the ghosts didn't always know they were dead, much less how they'd died. "No." He denied, realizing that denial was one of the five stages of grief and quickly wondered if he was in greif about his own death.
So lost in thought, jumped when a vibration buzzed through his jean pocket. Huh, ghost could have phones? He wondered as he placed the device to his ear, " 'Lo?"
"Sam?"
His head tilted in confusion, "Bobby?" He was about 65% sure he wasn't dead. He'd never, in all his years of Hunting, heard of a ghost answering phone calls. Sure, they could leave EVP, but directly answer and interact with their phone? No.
"Where the hell are ya', boy?! You almost gave yer damn brother a heart attack!" And Sam had to actually pull the phone away so as to not go deaf by the elder man. Okay, make that 100% sure. Could dead people even go deaf?
"Um...Bobby?" His voice, it sounded so far away.
"What?" Apparently Bobby must've picked up on something in Sam's voice, because the growl had changed tones to one of more of a gruff concern.
"I'm looking at Dean right now."
"Great. Maybe he can knock some sense into ya."
Before the older man could hang up, Sam quickly continued, "No, Bobby. I don't think- I don't think he can see me."
That got the other man's attention pretty quick, "Waddya mean he can't see ya?"
"Or hear me."
"What the hell have you idjits done now?"
Sam was so relieved, he wasn't dead after all! In fact, he felt so relieved he was starting to get light-headed, "I'm not dead." He mumbled before falling to the ground as the world melted away.
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Well, Dean had been enjoying his day -the ghost was gone, the case was closed, they were going to stay one more night out of paranoia- until he got out of the shower.
He was in the middle of asking Sam if he'd taken his razor when he noticed a serious lack of Sam in the room. His senses went on high alert and he tried to remember if he'd heard anything unusual when he'd been in the shower. Nothing came to mind, but that didn't mean anything. At the same time, his eyes narrowed and landed on a fallen chair and scattered papers. He knew it wasn't like Sam to knock over chairs, or throw around their hard-earned paperwork.
Oh fuck. Sam was gone and not by choice from the looks of it. "God damn it, Sam!" He snarled, snatching his phone and hoping that his brother had simply left in a hurry for reasons only known to him, "Can't leave you alone for five fucking minutes without something happening." Because something always happened because they were Winchesters and God damn it! He should have known things wouldn't be easy. He cursed himself for his own stupidity and he was about to curse Sam, but decided he'd wait until the kid was safely back under Dean's watchful eye to curse him for jinxing them. "Better be out getting me pie, or I'm going to be pissed." He muttered, instinctively trying to lighten up the mood even if there was no one to lighten it up for.
He grabbed his phone called Sam's number listening to it ring, and ring, and ring, and ring, and than "This is Sam, leave a message"
"Damn it!" He cursed, probably louder than necessary, but he was pissed and worried so sue him for being loud. God, how did his brother always find a way to make simple things so fucking difficult?!
He threw his phone back onto his bed, before realizing that, hey, maybe his brother had called Bobby. He quickly dialed the surrogate father's number. It answered and Dean quickly filled the man in with a few simple words, "Bobby? It's Dean, have you heard from Sam?"
"No." He answered slowly, cautiously, "Why?"
"Because he's not here!" Dean snapped, unable to hide his increasingly growing fear. "I tried calling him and he didn't pick up and it looks like someone might have taken him, okay?"
"Alright, boy, calm down. I'll see what I can do. Just hang tight, ya hear? Idjit."
After putting on a shirt and pants, figuring it'd be easier to find Sam fully clothed, he paced the room, muttering curses under his breath and so not counting the seconds as they passed him bye. He mentally went through a list of everything that would want to hurt him or Sam, going through their case, checking off monsters, and thinking which demons were out for their heads this time.
It couldn't be a demon attack, no sulfur. He was pretty sure it didn't have anything to do with the case, but deciding to not take any chances, he started picking up the papers. He was in the middle piling them up when his cell phone went off.
"Anything?" He asked, getting right down to business.
On the other end, Bobby sighed, "Well Dean, I'm not sure what you idjits have gotten into now, but Sam's just fine."
"What? Seriously? Where the hell is he? I swear to God, I'm going to kick his ass into next week!" What the hell had his brother been thinking?! Running off like that with no note and looking like someone had God damned kidnapped him!
"Well, that's just it. See, I called Sam and he told me he was lookin' right at'chya. Said you couldn't hear or see him. So who the hell did you idjits piss off this time?"
Dean ran his hand through his hair and over his face, "I dunno! We're not exactly keeping track of every fugly we've messed with. Hell, we manage to piss people of by just being there!" He paused, taking a deep breath, "But he was okay, right Bobby? I mean other than the obvious, he wasn't hurt or anything, right?"
"He was fine. A little overwhelmed...I think he passed out. But he's fine now, awake and coherent. Ya' need me to come down there?"
Yes he wanted to say, to scream, because even for them, this was not normal! He sighed, "No, no. We need someone standing on the Eve front in case something new comes up. We'll just- we'll come to you."
"Alright. You damn idjits'll be the end of me."
"Alright, thanks Bobby."
He pocketed his phone, much calmer now than he was 20 seconds ago. Now that he knew Sam was safe and moping around here somewhere, he could finally breathe easily. God damn kid, nearly gave him a heart attack.
He clapped his hand together, looking around the room, he couldn't see Sam anywhere but that didn't mean he wasn't there. "Okay, Sam, uh, tap once for 'yes' and twice for 'no'. You alive?"
There was a small pause and Dean could already imagine the bitch-face Sam was throwing him. Then there was a single tap on the wall.
"Awesome. So you can hear me?"
Tap.
"Great. Okay, don't worry Sam, we're gunna get this figured out. So, let's think...who would have this kind of power?"
The room became silent, each brother thinking what creature could do this and why.
Dean grabbed his, now warm, beer from the nightstand, taking a nice, long gulp, "It's gunna be a long night."
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OKAY! So here's chapter one! I haven't done a chapter fic in a VERY LONG time, so I'm a little nervous.
Please review and tell me what you think so far. Anything mis-spelled? I'm hoping the characters aren't horribly OOC, so if they are please don't allow me to embarass myself further and tell me so I can try to do better. I've been working on my pacing, but if it still seems a bit fast let me know, it's propbably what I suck at the most, but practise makes perfect!
