Chapter Two
I sat Dean down on the last stair, before he even realized what I was looking at. He sat down immediately, glad to relieve the pain in his leg. He didn't even glance up at me, or anywhere else as he did so, thus not noticing the vampire standing some distance away from me.
Yes, Dean was taller, but he was also eating a chocolate. Enough distraction for a man in pain.
But the vamp had now spotted the both of us. It stood eyeing us. I couldn't see any weapon in its hands, and it seemed to see me see that. It raised its hands into fighting position, indicating its intention to fight barehanded.
Okay, yeah, fist fight. The vampire was a tad taller than me, but not as tall as either Dean or Sam. So the sparring practice with them should come in handy here. especially my miserable lessons with Sam should have taught me a few tricks.
Dean sat down on the steps, quietly finishing the chocolate. I knew he could have easily handled the fight, but I knew I could do it by myself. So I let Dean sit while I took a step forward, and both me and the vamp we got ready to fight each other.
I had not drawn my knife from my boots yet, wanting to keep my element of surprise as long as I could.
The vamp was thrown off by my indication to fight bare handed too. It was a newbie, and I could've bet that this was its first fight. It seemed confident about his strength, but more cautious than before, since it knew what I could do.
It lunged forward, using his speed and strength to strike me. It helped that it was standing a little far away from me when it started.
At the same time, as it began to come towards me, I sat down sharply, my hands going to my boot, fingers curling around the knife's handle.
My action confused it, and it tried to slow down, but momentum carried it forward, and just as it neared me in my strike radius, I drew my knife and stood up, swiping the knife into its midriff with force.
The blow caused it to take a few steps back, and it swiped its hands at my head, trying to hit, but I ducked twice, but the third one was in my stomach. I reeled back, hurt.
It walked towards me, and held me by the throat, trying to choke me.
For a minute my eyes saw blackness, and my throat was running dry fast.
But it hadn't realized that my knife was still in my hands.
I little hand trick from the behind did it. I opened his wound from the back side of the neck. The little shock brought me enough time to get away. I moved away fast, looking for my machete, which I found lying nearby, thankfully.
I hurriedly picked it up while it followed me, its one hand engaged in keeping its wound closed and head steady.
I took a few steps towards the vamp, getting closer, wanting to get in a proper chop-the-head-firmly-off radius. Which was a mistake too soon, because it turned towards me and swiped towards my midriff, making giving me a cut on my stomach. Luckily, I wore a lot of layers, so the cut wasn't too deep, but my clothes were all torn. I hadn't moved to avoid the swipe which meant the vamp's head was in my perfect reach.
One strong move from me and his head was off this time, completely. It rolled away a little from the body, and I sighed with satisfaction of a job well done.
I stood up straight, checking the wound in my middle, walking towards the staircase when I saw Dean, standing up, looking amazed.
"I didn't even hear you guys." He said. "Great job." He said, smiling a little, when he saw the headless body behind me.
How is someone able to look so bright, even when covered in filth? I'm jealous.
Wait a minute. Did he- Did he just say he couldn't hear the fight? I made a lot of noise.
"What do you mean you didn't hear us?" A suspicion formed in my head.
"Shit! I can't hear you!" Dean said, shocked, his hands went to his ears, and he tried to scratch his ears.
"Hey, Hey Calm down," I said, moving towards his left side, holding his hands to stop him from scratching. "I heard that." He said, moving his left ear towards me.
"Can you hear me?" I said towards his left ear. He nodded, impatiently moving his other ear towards me. I repeated, but this time he shook his head.
We both realized that he couldn't hear with his right ear only.
"Right side's all muffled, like I'm wearing ear plugs." He said, again his hand moving to scratch, but I didn't let go. "Don't scratch, you'll only make it worse." He nodded, fidgeting a little.
"Dean, you have to relax, and let your muscles heal. I'm going to take you the doctor. We'll be okay." I said, walking him out of that hole.
After we'd gotten in the car, I checked his ear. It didn't look like he'd injured it, only clogged.
He's going to be okay. We'll get his hearing back. It's probably not too much damage.
I kept repeating that to myself.
Few minutes later, we were back to the motel.
"Why are we here? I thought you said the doc?" Dean asked, speaking slowly. I could sense the tiredness in his voice.
It was the afternoon, just a little over three. "We can't go like this, you idiot. Let's at least clean up," I said, pointing towards the blood and the gore and the torn clothing on our bodies. "Plus we're going to need an ear specialist, buddy. I'm going to have to find one." I told him.
He just sat there, blinking, and realized I was talking on his right side. I face-palmed myself, turning over to repeat everything on the other side. He chuckled at me, giving me his good ear while I told him we needed to clean up before we could see a doc.
I opened the door to our motel room, quickly closing the door on both of us. I motioned Dean to get in the shower while I lay on the hard bed on my back.
"No, no," Dean said, heaving himself on the other bed. "I'm too tired. You go first," he pointed towards the bathroom door.
"Uh-huh. C'mon you big lug. Get in there." I said, without getting up. When I heard no response I looked towards him. He was sleeping.
I thought he was fake-sleeping and I was about to argue back, but I heard him lightly snore, and I smiled to myself.
I heaved myself off of the bed, and quickly showered, feeling much better with a clean head of hair.
Dean was still sleeping when I came out of the bathroom.
He looked so peaceful, that I couldn't bear to wake him. But I had to wake him. He woke up, grumbling like an old cranky man, and shuffled towards the bathroom.
