Alrighty then; this one differs from my other stories - it's completly in outsider POV and not really how I usually write. I had fun writing it though (I think I might be a little bit evil, but who isn't in this fandom?) but I managed to give it the worst title ever. Damn. This is an AU to season 2's In My Time Of Dying -
Poor Dean. Poor Sammy. Evil GirlFromNorth.
That's probably all you need to know.
It's not that he didn't want to hunt, not at all; he was actually thrilled to go on a hunt again, promise, but this wasn't a hunt he wanted, nope.
"But seriously Rob," he whined and chose to ignore that he sounded like a spoiled brat "a hospital?"
A grumble was the only reply he got.
"I mean, people die in hospitals daily, why do we even have to check this out? There's been nothing that indicates a haunting except for some random dude who saw a random dude walk around in the hallways shouting for someone and let me tell you, that's not something that has anything to do with our kind of business."
"Why don't you just shut up, Evan."
"Come on, I know I screwed up the last hunt" sort of "but why is this even worth our time?"
"For the record, several people have seen this man walk around in the hallways, and let's not forget that those who don't see him walk right through him. Yeah, so it's not a big lead to go on, but I got a call from Stevens yesterday-"
"Who the hell is Stevens?"
"A doctor who just happens to work there and I owe him a favor. He knows about us hunters and he's starting to get worried about the apparent spirit sneaking around, and I don't know about you, but it'd be damn nice to stop it before it starts killing somebody."
Evan huffed and jumped up as Robert strode out of the motel room without looking if he was following. They had been hunting together for some time now and Evan suspected the older man was doing this only to annoy him. He knew hospital gave Evan the creeps. Perhaps it was some sort of punishment for nearly getting eaten by that wendigo last week… To be fair, an easy hunt was probably the only thing they could handle right now – quite frankly they had gotten their asses kicked during the last one. As a bonus the demon activity was sky-high, had been for years, and to handle a normal haunting seemed like a relief.
Oh well. Guess they just had to find this sucker's bones and burn them, end of story.
Riverview Hospital was just like any other hospital, and just like any other hospital it made Evan feel uneasy. Too many dying people, dead people, mourning people, desperate people and apparently ghost people as well, if the EMF meter Robert was pushing into his face was anything to go by. Robert's grin was gleeful and his entire being screamed out what did I say, what did I say, I was right and Evan did his best to look dignified.
A quick flash of fake ID's (health department my ass) and they were quickly allowed to take a look around in the hospital. Sometimes Evan thought it was far too easy - not that he was complaining or anything.
Doctor Stevens appeared to be very relieved to see them ("I don't want any supernatural freak near my patients, thank you very much") and gave them access to the hospital's files over the deceased patients.
"Like that's going to help us," Evan muttered gloomily. "Hey Rob? How are we even going to figure out who this is? It's a freaking hospital, man, it could be anyone."
The glare he received told him to shut the hell up before Evan became the spirit to hunt.
The interviews weren't exactly helpful, but it seemed to confirm that they were dealing with a confused, lost spirit.
"It's a damn annoyance, that's what it is," an old man in his hospital bed informed them. "I don't understand why they allow him to walk around at night, screaming like that… You'd think it'd be strict around here, important for us patients to get a good night sleep, but every night it's the same thing, the same yelling, sometimes even in daytime."
"What is he yelling, sir?" Rob asked politely, picture perfect of a good undercover.
"Oh I dunno… It's a name, that much I know, maybe… Emmy? No? I'm pretty sure it started with an f–sound, but it could also be an s…"
They excused themselves and went to see the little nurse who with wide eyes and hushed voice told them about the man who walked through people and desperately searched for something he lost, anguish in his voice and sometimes flipping over things when he couldn't find it.
"I say we'll come back here at night," Robert murmured and Evan was quick to agree. At least he'd get out of the hospital for a little while now.
Having a man on the inside was glorious. Doctor Stevens made sure they didn't have to worry about the security cameras and kept the hallways the spirit haunted clear. The light was dimmed and the white walls shadowed, making them seem bigger than they were. An eerie silence stretched over the hospital and the shotgun loaded with salt was cold in Evan's sweaty hands. Robert chuckled lowly as Evan startled at the sudden distant coughing behind a closed door (he did absolutely not squeak, shut up Rob). Hospitals were freaky, alright?
After fifteen uneventful minutes the lights started to flicker and the EMF meter flashed red. Further along the corridor around the corner someone was calling out, a mix of annoyance and desperation in his voice. Rob and Evan exchanged a quick look before gripping their weapons tighter and stalking forward.
"This isn't funny anymore. Where are you? Please, just… Just tell me where you are. Hello? Hey! Where are you?"
Something inside Evan clenched and he wished that they didn't have to do this job. Hell, he could take down vengeful spirits who were full of anger, hate and bloodlust because they were killing people, but this was merely a lost spirit. A lost spirit that was stupid enough to stay in this world instead of moving on.
Said spirit was clad in white hospital clothes and the only visible injury was a bloody gash across his forehead. He had yet to take notice of the two hunters and continued searching for whoever he had lost.
"Come on, now's not the time to play hide-and-seek… Where'd you go? Sam? Sammy!"
Evan shifted uneasily and Robert put a hand on Evan's shotgun. "No use pissing him off," he breathed. "We'll skip the shoot first ask questions later rule this time – only shoot if he charges."
The spirit peeked into a hospital room before disappointedly continuing walking, calling out for this Sam person again.
Robert casually stepped forward, only the tense line of his shoulders revealing the discomfort. "Who's Sam?" he asked and the spirit whirled around to face them.
His eyes narrowed as he quickly scanned them before answering with a hope marred with suspicion filled tone; "You've seen him?"
"I don't know," Robert shrugged. "What does he look like?"
The spirit walked closer. "Uh – he's tall, like, really tall," he held a hand above his own head "shaggy brown hair in need of a cut, kicked-puppy-eyes, broody type… You've seen anyone like that? Anyone at all?"
"Ah, I'm not sure… But there's a lot of people in the hospital, and maybe we could help you find him if-"
"Uh-hu, I'm sure," the spirit interrupted and eyed the shotguns poorly hidden behind the hunters' backs. "Yeah well, I think I'll be fine without your help." With that he turned his back towards them and took a deep breath. "SAM!"
So what now? Evan mouthed but Robert made a point of ignoring him.
"Listen here, we could really help you-"
"Save it, I don't have time for you." Did… did the spirit just flip them off? That was a new one.
"Trust me, you've got time. Time's probably the only thing you've got now."
"You're an awful ghost whisperer", the spirit grumbled under his breath.
Evan blinked. "Whoa, whoa, you're saying you know that you're-"
"Evan," Robert hissed.
"I'm not going anywhere, you hear me?" the spirit shot back and the temperature lowered abruptly. "I'm not leaving my brother. He said I can't leave him alone. I won't leave him." The spirit flickered out of sight only to reappear further away. "Dad? Come one dad, you here? Sammy? Dad!"
"Great," Robert growled. "Give me dead bloody cold axe-murderers and I'll handle it, but I don't know what to do with a ghost who wants a family reunion…"
"You're the one who wanted this job," Evan reminded him.
The spirit appeared to be annoyed with them and avoided them, but seemed to find pleasure in tricking them into running around the whole hospital trying to find him. He was also too smart to be caught behind salt lines and stayed away from any iron they had, and after a few hours the hunters had to admit defeat – this time. They still hadn't gotten any clues on his cause of death, which made them none the wiser of who he was. Perhaps a few hours of sleep in the motel room would help them clear their thoughts…
As they prepared to leave the hospital Robert stopped dead-on and took a few steps backwards. He sniffed the air, frowned, and sniffed a few more times.
"Dude," Evan began slowly. "You look like a freaking dog."
Robert straightened and smirked that little self-satisfied smirk he always used when he was about to say something meaningful or dramatic. "Have you noticed that the air is tainted with just a vague smell of gasoline whenever we get close to the spirit?"
Evan guessed he should be thankful he even got to sleep a little bit before Robert was up and going on about the hunt again. He was convinced that the spirit was a victim of a car crash (gee, thanks a lot stupid gasoline smelly thing) and considering they had nothing else to go on they were going through the hospital's records of fatal car crashes. It could be anyone, it could have happened god knows how long ago, and really, Evan was starting to understand why so many traffic rules and drive-safe-campaigns existed (Jesus Christ a lot of people died on the road).
"Uh, there's this Sam Harrison guy… Almost lost his leg in a crash a couple of years back," Evan squinted at the screen. "The guy with him bled out before the ambulance arrived and – oh never mind… They weren't brothers anyway. Besides, his ID-picture looks nothing like our friendly little spirit. Forget I said anything."
Robert grunted something in return.
Doctor Stevens had mentioned that the patient first started talking about the spirit a few years ago in July or August, and Robert was betting on that the months meant something. He was reading records like a madman, eyes never leaving the screen and fingers only straying from the computer mouse when he chugged down caffeine.
"Gotcha," Robert exclaimed a while (an eternity) later. "A truck rammed into a car back in 2006, fatally injuring one Dean Winchester(1). He passed away a few days later due to inner bleeding, injuries to liver and kidneys and severe head trauma. Guess who drove the car? His brother, Samuel." Robert leaned back to stretch his no-doubt awfully stiff neck, looking terribly pleased with himself.
Evan pushed away his own laptop. "Think he's our guy?"
Robert hummed. "Pretty sure. The brother got away with mere bruises and scratches and signed himself out of the hospital almost immediately. Huh, you remember that spirit calling out for his dad a few times too? Looks like daddy, named John, was sitting in the front seat. Got away with a broken arm and bruised ribs," Robert clicked the screen and brought up the ID-photo of Dean Winchester. Spiked hair, smirk in place and lively eyes - it would be hard to picture him dead if they hadn't already seen his ghost. "Oh it's him alright. Damn, I'm good…" Robert stood up to fetch another cup of coffee and Evan scooted over to check the details of Dean's death.
"Yeah, congrats. Sorry to ruin the mood, but we can't just dig up his body and burn it. He was cremated."
"'Course he was…"
"The Winchesters don't seem to have a home address – think they're nomadic or something – and considering the hospital is the place he's haunting something of him must be left there. It could be anything if the spirit really wanted to stay; just a hair or some specks of blood on a forgotten sheet… We're lucky he wasn't an organ donator."
"Guess we'll have to look in his old room then. It's going to be bloody near impossible, but what other option do we have?" He was already shrugging on his jacket, ready to leave right away. Evan was not as sure, and it wasn't just because the thing he wanted most of all was to collapse straight into bed.
Evan had this peculiar feeling that the spirit, wherever it was, was laughing at them. Winchester surely had a good time when he checked what they were doing, but never stayed long enough to be caught or even talked to. Evan and Robert had searched every corner of the room and tried looking through the hospital for something that could have belonged to Dean. What had they come up with?
Nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
It would have made sense if he was haunting one of his family members, tied to some old belonging they kept as a memory, but then what was binding him to the hospital? It didn't make sense. There were no clues, no nothing, just a ghost shouting for his brother and –
Evan froze.
Could it be..? He had heard of it, but he knew Robert would scoff at him for the mere suggestion. But what the hell, it was worth a shot, right? It took several minutes to even find Robert, who was scanning the floor of another hospital room as though it held the answers to the universe. Evan cleared his throat and waited until the other man at least acknowledged him.
"So I was thinking," he started as Robert's head disappeared inside a cabinet. A snort and a mumbled now that's a new one answered him. "We're obviously not going to find something here, and I really don't know what you're doing in here in the first place, so maybe we're looking at the wrong solution? I mean, we hunters always take care of vengeful spirits, but this sprit isn't angry. He hasn't even done anything wrong, why should we be trying to torch his ass?"
"If you're hoping to make a point you should probably hurry the hell up."
"I'm just saying… maybe we should try to talk to him."
A bang from a head striking wood and a loud curse followed. "Come again?"
"You know, all that go-into-the-light-crap and talking… maybe it would work. Yeah, maybe it's not a very popular way to do it, but it's worked for other hunters."
"Uh-huh. So let's say we do that and – what's your plan again? I don't know if you've noticed, but we're not exactly any charmers slash talkers."
"Maybe not us; but maybe his brother could. What if Sam is the thing keeping him here, because from what Dean told us it sounds like little brother was telling him not to go, not to leave."
"So, we're just going to find this Sam and tell him… what? Hey by the way, that brother of yours is haunting a hospital and we need you to come and talk to him so he can go into the light? I bet that'd work out well."
"We'll find a good reason, it's not like we haven't tricked people before."
"Right… Otherwise we can just find Sammy, knock him out and drag his ass back here," Robert muttered and straightened.
The lights flickered and the door behind Evan slammed shut, the room flooded by an unnatural chill. The spirit of Dean appeared before them but this time he didn't look lost or desperate. This time he looked like a predator and Evan found himself stepping backwards.
"What," he started with an ice-cold, deadly voice, "did you just say about my brother?"
Robert was quick to raise his hands in a peace-offering attempt. "Whoa, whoa, calm down there pal," he tried, voice immediately adapting a soothing tone (useless) tone.
"Stay away from Sam."
Now Robert looked more or less insulted. "I ain't gonna hurt the kid!"
The air didn't get any warmer, but hey, at least they weren't dead yet. It's a start. As an answer to his thoughts the horribly uncomfortable metal chairs started rattling and now Evan was pretty sure they were about to be killed. By freakin' flying hospital chairs.
"I always knew those damn bastard chairs were going to be the end of me…" he muttered. Robert spared him a glare that promised a death before the chairs got to him before he turned back to the spirit.
"Listen here Dean, I get that you want to smack us around, the feeling is mutual, but if you'd just let us talk about-"
Two of the chairs skidded forward and screeched to halt in front of the hunters. Dean leaned back against the cabinets. "Then talk."
Evan hesitated briefly before sitting down on the offered chair, Robert reluctantly doing the same.
"So…" Robert began, leaning forward with an intense look on his face. "You know you're a spirit." Uh, yeah, so maybe Robert had had a point about them not being touchy-feels-talkers. Evan was pretty sure they weren't supposed to lull a spirit to the whatever-comes-after-world like that.
"If you're going to try some more ghost-whispering crap to make me move on I'll make you see the light," Dean deadpanned.
"So you actually want to stay here, then?" Evan snorted. "You like it here? What a wonderful place to spend the afterlife in." And another point to Robert "Hate to say it, but it's not exactly heaven."
"Right," Dean drawled "I'm sure you'd know what heaven is."
"Oh I dunno… I just didn't imagine it like a ratty old hospital."
"Tough shit, isn't it?" Dean pushed away from the cabinet and ran a hand through his hair. "I haven't hurt anyone. There's no reason for the two of you to be here."
Robert cleared his throat. "I hope you know what happens in all the horror movies when a ghost is walking around. Now, you may not have lost your mind yet, but stay here another ten, twenty, thirty years and I can assure you that you won't be your normal, charming self anymore. Even the nicest person turned ghost becomes something entirely different, sooner or later."
"There's always Caspar the friendly ghost", Dean quipped helpfully.
"Cute."
"Uh, listen, what we're trying to say…" Evan hurried. "I still find it hard to believe you want to stay here, and we think we might know what's keeping you here."
"What? You're going to try to burn my remains? Some of my possessions?"
Evan chose to not think about just why Dean knew about the salt-and-burn technique, for the moment he was busy. "No… We think it might be your brother. And for the record, no, we are not talking about burning your brother, geez," and yes, Evan thought he was more than justified to assure the spirit about that. "If we could bring you brother here, the two of you could have a long-overdue little chat. You've been searching for him for years: don't you think it'd be nice to finally see him?"
Something flickered in Dean's eyes and a little bit of the hostility faded away. The doubt and mistrust lingered but at least they had caught his interest.
"We're not the bad guys," Robert added in the silence that followed.
Dean looked torn but their breath didn't come out in clouds of white smoke anymore, the warmth slowly seeping back into the room. The spirit itself drew in an unneeded, slow breath as to compose him before meeting their gazes.
"Tell him the truth and he'll be here, but trust me, if you so much as bend a hair on his head… I will rip you apart. I'll fucking kill you both," he hissed out before disappearing in a heartbeat and the lights grew stronger around them again.
Evan flopped back against the hard chair and let out a small whoop. "You know, for a second I really thought we'd die. Killed by hospital chairs. I mean, can you imagine what our tombstones would say? Of course, it's very unlikely that we'll have any tombstones… Maybe we'll become a funny story for hunters to tell each other; the two hunters who got their asses handed to them by hospi- ow!"
Robert cuffed the back of his head without as much as a look at him and dragged his own chair to its place. "We still have one Winchester left to convince."
They made it back to their motel room in record time and Robert was armed with his laptop in the blink of an eye. Evan decided he was too lazy to hurry – he doubted he'd find anything before Robert anyway. He should probably get them coffee; Evan might consider himself a coffee-addict but that was nothing compared to Robert practically inhaling caffeine like his life depended on it. Then again, maybe it really did…
A peek over Robert's shoulder revealed that he had found Sam Winchester's file, and within moments he'd either start talking about locations, phone numbers, or –
"Shit!"
- start swearing.
"What going on?"
Robert dropped his head in his hands and rubbed his forehead. "You've got any other genius plans hidden up your sleeve?" he asked through clenched teeth.
"Huh? What's wrong with the Sam-plan?"
"Well when has anything ever been that easy for us, hm? I don't know how we're going to show our faces at Riverview hospital without being killed…" At Evan's puzzled expression he growled but didn't bother telling what he'd found out.
"Care to share with class?"
Robert shoved his laptop away before changing his mind and dragging it closer again. "Sam Winchester was found dead on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere back in 2007."
Evan's throat felt as dry as a desert. "Was he..?"
"Killed? Yes. Knife wound in the back plus multiple bruises covering the body. Jesus. Someone stabbed little brother Winchester and dropped him off on a muddy road, killer was never found. No clues, no nothing. He had pretty much vanished after Dean was killed – that is, of course, until they found the corpse…"
"…Shit," Evan agreed and slumped down next to Robert. Screw coffee, they'd most likely need something stronger. Write testaments. Send notes to friends and family about their incoming death. Make funeral arrangements. He wondered who the suspect would be after their bodies were found. Maybe he should stay here instead of going to the light to find out? Haunt the hospital with Winchester and tell him horrible puns just for revenge?
"Yeah, we'll definitely keep our shotguns loaded with salt close to us next time we visit the hospital," Robert muttered and shot accusing glances at the laptop as though it was the computer's fault. In the corner of the screen was a photo of a smiling Sam Winchester. He thought it was ironic to have such a happy picture right next to the description of the person's death. Evan scrolled down to read about the younger Winchester – might come in handy to know something about him.
"Smart kid," he remarked lowly, "Full ride to Stanford, straight A-student. Spent his childhood moving around with his father and brother, mother died when both brothers were small…"
"Spare me the details," Robert cut off.
Silence.
"Do you… think we could get a hold of John Winchester then?"
"He's been missing for years. Presumed dead. Even if we could find him, it's not him Dean wants to talk to, and guess what? You're the one who gets to tell him where Sam is, 'cause I sure as hell can't break the news gently. Give it a try. Now go get me a blackest of black cup of coffee; this was your idea and if I don't get my coffee I'll –"
Evan was already out the door, ready to fetch two of the biggest cups coffee he could find.
1) The Winchesters' fake name in this episode was McGillicuddy but hey, this is fanfiction. If I want them to use their real names then they do.
So much for writing a one-shot. Should I continue? As always, reviews equals oxygen!
