Disclaimer: I do not own any recognizable characters from the Supernatural TV show, if I did I would be making way more money.
Chapter 2
Dean burst into their current motel room, his gaze seeking out Sammy. They landed on him, sitting at a Formica table facing the door; he sat before his beloved laptop, a gun placed carefully next to it. Sam had just finished taking a gulp of his beer when Dean had showed up.
Sam was looking fixatedly at the computer screen, not giving any indication that he had heard his brother.
Dean cleared his throat to get Sam's attention but only got a 'hmmm' and some clacking of a keys in response. This only built on the frustration he felt from Sam ignoring him.
Dean felt like picking up and throwing the laptop but then took into account the untold damage Sam could do to his baby in retaliation.
Finally, he dropped into the chair opposite his brother which at last had the desired effect of his brother paying attention to him.
Sam took a good look at Dean and frowned in response.
"Dude, is everything ok? Is it the vampire job?" They hadn't expected to work tonight since they had just lost the trail of the vampire they had been following in the hopes of finding a nest.
"I went to that bar we saw on our way here."
"And…" Sam prompted when Dean stopped, sitting the beer next to his gun.
"And I met this chick there; there was something odd about her." Dean had an intense look on his face, obviously trying to figure the mystery behind the girl.
"What do you mean by odd? Was she a vampire?" Sam questioned.
"What?,,,,No." Replied Dean, as if the answer was obvious, still partially in his own world. He started pacing in the limited space between the beds and the table where Sam still sat.
"Well, what did you find odd about her? Excluding the obvious black eyes or hex bags, and so on?" Sam tried to be patient with his interrogation, in the face of the limited answers he was getting from his brother.
Dean was stumped by the question. "I can't really describe it. It was this weird vibe I got from her."
"A weird vibe? That's what your going on. So no killings, weird disappearances or mystical mojo of any kind. I'm all for going with our hunter instincts Dean but you've got to give me more to go on." Sam slumped back in his chair and could only stare at his older brother.
Dean looked at Sam and tried to think of anything else that he could tell him.
"She's blind …..and can sing?"
"Dean, seriously?" Sam could only shake his head.
"None of those things says she's anything but normal. Actually you might be describing the perfect victim instead, since she's so vulnerable. Also, what's her being able to sing got to do with anything?" Sam was trying to work out why Dean was fixated.
"Look, Sammy, the way she sang, it was….." Dean tailed off, not knowing what to say, especially since he didn't know why the girl struck a cord with him.
"Ok, fine. Let's just say there's something odd about her? Did you follow her?" It was normal protocol, if you could call it that, to investigate. And for someone like Dean, following the girl would have been a no-brainer but with the frame of mind he was in at the moment, Sam had to ask.
The question brought Dean back to the present.
"Eh, yeah, I did. She went up to the flat above the bar and didn't leave, as far as I could see. I waited for an hour and then came back here."
"Any suspicious activity?"
"Not as far as I can tell". He had seen the lights go on in the flat and that's about it.
Sam wanted to call Dean out and say it was a wild goose chase. But he had too much respect for his brother and his instincts. Logic didn't as much merit as pure hunter instinct did, in the world they lived in.
"Ok. How about we go there tomorrow night? Maybe I'll pick up on something you've missed." Sam said in consolation.
Dean nodded his head in agreement. "Sound's good".
With that, Dean flung his weary form onto his chosen bed and threw an arm up to cover his eyes. The not knowing ate at him but hopefully he'd get some answers tomorrow. With Grace still on his mind, Dean fell into a restful asleep.
OoOoOoOoOoO
Grace was unaware that the man she had just met had spent time staking out where she lived. Even if she had known, she was too deep a sleep to care.
The glimpses she got of different scenes in her dream, rushed by too fast to make much sense. They were like a spectrum of lights or facets of a diamond, begging her to make sense of them. She both hated and loved the sensation, for in her dreams she could see but she knew from past experiences, it was a mixed blessing at best.
Finally, the kaleidoscope of lights stopped. It felt like vertigo had its hold on her as she was plunged into a scene.
She walked down a decrepit hospital corridor; that was packed on all sides with invalids. The paint peeled from the once white walls, and an overwhelming smell of decay permeated the air. The invalids suffering was on a level that was inhumane as so many were on the cusp of death. She felt for them to such an extent that she almost cried in anguish. It was excruciatingly painful to feel so much and she wished in that moment she couldn't feel what they felt.
But she pushed that thought away. It was her cross to bear; even this had its purpose.
She closed her eyes and opened her senses. There. She knew who she had to approach. A little boy with café au lait skin sat on the dirty floor, his little form resting against a woman with similar features next him. Both were obviously suffering from malnutrition, among other diseases one contracted in such a deprived village. The pair showed no indication that they were aware of her presence as she stood before them.
She reached her hand out towards the boy and then….nothing.
The roulette in her mind spun again before she had a chance to find out.
Once again she was thrown into a scene without any warning.
She was blind here. Wait, no. She had a blindfold bound tightly around her head. She tried remove it but couldn't. It was as if her whole body was paralysed. There was no moving from the hard unforgiving chair she was seated in. When she realised there would be nothing gained from her fruitless attempts to move, she focused her attention outwards.
There were voices buzzing on all sides, what seems like hundreds, a cacophony bouncing off walls, of what it seemed like, was a large space.
"Enough!" A voice rang out above all the rest. It held such authority, that it commanded and all who heard it obeyed, resulting in complete silence.
"So, as far as I understand, we are in agreement." When not one of the voices spoke out to oppose the statement.
Suddenly, she felt to arms dragging her to her feet. She could only guess that it was it came from a non-verbal command.
The cold, almost robotic voice continued.
"You are to be executed. You have broken one of our most sacred rules. You should be glad that we are being merciful enough to grant you a quick death." The voice said with heavy condescension, ever aware if its self-importance when handing out death.
Suddenly, she was outside, the wind blowing her unbound hair about her head. She could hear the rush of the sea coming from somewhere below her. She could only guess she was near the edge of a cliff. The uneven ground that she was pulled across, only confirmed it.
It came to her with a jolt. This was it, the place she had only seen from afar, where so many others before her had met their end. She had felt sorry for them but had been helpless to do anything. Now she would meet the same fate.
The hands that had dragged her from her seat were in the process of shacking her to a wall. When they were done, it was they were the only thing that would stop her from slumping to the floor. An unneeded measure since she was still paralysed, but it made for a better target. The ceremonial arrow would be shown that much respect, it never missed what it had in its sight.
"Any last words?" Said the mocking voice from before. She hated it, as much her heart would allow her to.
Her hearing picked up their footfalls, somehow she could tell it was just 'him' and her keepers there to witness her last moments. She wouldn't beg them to spare her; she wouldn't give him the satisfaction.
"Nothing? Well let's get on with it." She could imagine him before her, the arrow strung in its bow, ready to end her life. She thought she could hear him pull the string, in happy readiness for its release.
From nowhere she felt a tingling taking over her body. It started at her scalp and with a rush, it reached her toes. The sensation made her flinch mentally, her hands balling into fists at its aftermath.
I can move!
With that realisation she sprung into action. The shackles broke as she wrenched herself free of the wall, as if they were made of glass. She only had one chance and she had to take it. As she lurched to the left, she heard the whoosh of the arrow as it missed her. Piercing the wall behind her, as she knew it had done so many times before.
The wind started to howl, pushing her towards the cliff edge, as if to aid her escape. She heard the scuffle of their feet on the jagged rock that made up the ground. She would soon meet the black waters below, and she was willing to face its embrace, anything was better than what they had planned.
As her feet touched nothing, a hand grasped her arm. But her momentum meant that it found no purchase. The hand released her, unwilling to share the experience of a watery death.
It felt like her body fell for an eternity. But finally, when she thought she would never reach it, her person hit it the surface. She had never felt such pain, her body was jarred and it felt as if she had smacked into a hard flat exterior breaking through the watery barrier, pushing out the breath from her lungs.
But that was nothing in comparison to the cold, arctic water enveloping her in its embrace. She had no time to take a breath; it was if it had taken a hold of her throat, asphyxiating her, before the malignant water could flow into her lungs.
OoOoOoOoO
Grace shot up in bed, gulping in as much air into her lungs as humanly possible. Her heart pounded out of her chest. The wisps of the dream that clung to her, no longer made sense in the light of day.
Her dreams had recently taken on an odd quality; it was if they were pieces of a large jigsaw puzzle that was incomplete. She didn't understand what her they meant. And what she saw scared her. Her introspection was interrupted by a knock on the door.
"Grace, honey, are you awake? Breakfast is ready." Her Dad's voice came through the closed door.
She pulled herself back to the present and replied.
"Yeah, Dad I'm awake. I'll be right out." She heard her Dad walk away.
When she could no longer hear him, she fell back onto her bed and felt the cushiony softness below her. Her unseeing eyes stared up at the ceiling above her. She could only imagine what the new day would bring.
AN – Please read and Review. Reading comments makes me a happy bunny!
