Sidetracked
The Winchester's got in over their heads even if Dean doesn't want to admit it. Having to call Phade for some help isn't exactly on his list of things to do but once Sam has her on the phone Dean can't help butting in.
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"What happened?" Dean asked as he slammed the car in gear. He sped off gravel flying leaving a huge cloud of dust in their wake.
"What do you mean what happened!" Sam exclaimed clutching his arm and glaring at Dean.
"I mean, what the hell went wrong back there? Because they sure as hell weren't ghosts, Sam. Ghosts don't shoot you!" he finished with a yell.
"KKK." Dean breathed still in disbelief.
"Devil worshiping KKK." Sam corrected wincing at the pain in his arm. Neither had been prepared to deal with that. All they had were scattered pieces to the puzzle and Dean hated being surprised. What he hated even more was being shot at!
"Fucking lunatics!" he raged gripping the steering wheel tighter.
"Demonic lunatics." Sam muttered as he tied a bandage on his upper arm. Dean spared him a glare as he drove.
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"Now what?" Sam asked tiredly. The laptop sat between them on the small round hotel table. Neither had slept since late afternoon yesterday and it was beginning to show. Dean was down right nasty and Sam was pretty much ignoring him while trying no to let Dean see him doze off.
That was the reason Dean was being mean. Sam was the computer wiz yet he was stuck surfing the net while genius got his beauty rest. The lat top suddenly chimed barely getting Sam's attention. Dean frowned wondering what the hell he'd done when it sounded again. Sam turned to Dean who held his hands up away from the keyboard.
"What? What happened?" he asked looking all around the laptop. The chimes sounded yet again.
"It's a message." Sam told him with a yawn as he turned the computer and opened the instant message window. He chuckled then began to type.
"What?" Dean leaned around to see and Sam moved the lap top so they both had a view.
"Phade wants to know if we ever sleep."
"Tell her-." Dean began with a scowl when the chime came again. "Now what?"
Sam laughed pushing the laptop so it faced Dean.
Tell Dean 2 quit looking over ur shoulder n do something useful. He read glowering. In his current mood he wasn't up to her teasing.
"What the hell!" Dean typed slapping Sam's hand out of his way with a warning. The chime sounded much sooner and Sam stood over Dean reading.
Hi Dean. Nice 2c ur vocabulary hasn't change. I'll email u a dictionary. Lol Must work now so u guys b careful. Oh, n Dean? B nice 2ur little bro.
"What!"
Sam chuckled turning towards the bed.
"You heard her, be nice to me Dean." Sam yawned, dropping onto the bed with a smile on his face. "I'll see you in a couple of hours." He mumbled already half asleep.
"Be nice to him?" Dean muttered wondering how she would know if he wasn't. He was tired too but something about the pictures of the school kept bothering him.
"Later." He muttered shoving all thoughts aside until he'd slept at least 6hours. He dropped onto the mattress thinking about Phade. They'd left her almost a week ago, her and her giant of a boyfriend. He turned over grumbling and the sight of her fully aflame came unbidden into his mind. He still couldn't understand what had happened to her and how the hell she'd sent the demon straight to hell because she certainly had. No sign or trace of it was left and they'd both checked. Dean had been doing some research on the tattoo on her back and the one on her wrist. He'd found references to runes but not much else. He could of course call her and ask but he didn't think she'd answer his questions, not that he was using that as an excuse to call her…
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"So what do we have?" Dean asked coming out of the restroom with a towel draped over his shoulders one hand using an end to dry his hair.
"Empty ice chest." Sam replied through a mouthful. Dean stopped, hand dropping from his head. He moved quickly to the ice chest and flipped the lid off.
"You ate all of it?" he exclaimed turning to Sam who nodded popping the last piece into his mouth. "You-!" Dean bit off his curse looking back into the empty ice chest. The empty containers were neatly stacked in one corner.
'The little pig! He ate all the fruit salad on the way up here and now the potato balls with the cheese and the bits of meat…' Dean grumbled. His face clearly displayed his depressed state. Sam shook his head thinking Phade had been completely wrong about him. If anyone could pull off the puppy dog look it was his older brother; just give him a taste of her home cooking and let him think there wasn't anymore…
Sam chuckled figuring this was payback for the practical jokes he'd endured the last couple of days. Still, Sam wasn't entirely mean which is why, when Dean turned a scowling face to him he raised the half empty container he'd been hiding on the chair. Dean's face lit up comically at the sight. Almost like a drowning man at sea who finally got a cup of drinkable water, just not so harsh. Sam laughed and plucked another potato ball from the container. He held it up glancing at Dean.
"These are good. Sure you don't want any?" Sam's innocent look did nothing to erase the glare on his brother's face. The tub was snatched from his hand so fast he didn't get a chance of retrieving another morsel.
"Never," he said slowly. "Play with food, Sam."
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An hour later the brothers sat at the table with dozens of newspaper clippings. Each had the picture of a missing child- girls- with columns retelling the basics of the kidnappings, disappearances but only a couple were ever found. Dead. The question was why and where did the other girls end up?
"So the common thread… they're all kids older than 12 or early teens…" Dean surmised running a hand through his already mussed hair.
"They're all kids Dean. Under fourteen… I get why all girls. I mean they need to make a sacrifice in order to get their rewards. The girls are too young, virgins…" Sam shook his head unable to understand why it made a difference but it did. Blood was blood, either way you spilled it the demon got it. There were some who thought the blood of innocents was more potent, stronger than any spell or witch.
"You notice none of these girls is white." Dean snorted shaking his head. "I mean we're dealing with demon worshipping KKK, guess it makes sense." He heaved a sigh and threw the papers down. The chair tipped back on its legs while he stared at the table arms crossed.
"What?" Sam knew the look, knew when his brother was about to do something reckless.
"We're going back." At the firm set of Dean's jaw Sam just sighed. It wouldn't do any good to argue but that didn't stop him from trying to talk him out of the crazy-get-us-killed idea.
"Dean we can't just go back there. We have no idea what we're dealing with."
"Demon worshipping KKK or haven't you been paying attention?" the sarcasm wasn't lost on Sam which is why he threw the stack of papers at Dean.
"You're being reckless again. We don't know what kind of demon they have-."
"It's an evil demon!" Dean snapped standing up so fast his chair toppled over. He glared at his brother realizing the reversal of roles. "They're just kids! Kids Sam! And this last one," Dean shoved around the clippings on the table until he found the picture. "She's only 12. She's 12 and they have her somewhere."
Sam slid his eyes from Dean's focusing on the smiling face. The little girl's picture was a school portrait. She was posed with her arms crossed on a desktop, an apple sitting on some books in the corner while she smiled at the camera. She still looked like a kid with her clean face; doe eyes and the thick braid resting over her shoulder; a picture of innocence down to the lavender ribbon threaded into her black hair and innocent smile.
Sam sighed releasing his frustrated breath. "You have a plan?" he asked.
Some of the tension flowed out of Dean and he picked up his chair before he plopped back into it shaking his head. "No. You?"
Sam wiped his tired face and sighed.
"We better come up with something then." Dean grumbled scowling at the clippings.
The brothers sat, thinking while the temperature in the room dropped a few degrees. Both guys wore long sleeves so they didn't notice right away. Dean reached up to scratch the itch between his shoulders and Sam blew out a breath as he began typing. He was searching for anything that would help while his brother concentrated on their father's journal.
They hadn't found anything that resembled what they knew. There were no bones to salt, yet again and it didn't escape either of their notice it was something of a pattern that month. They barely had a place to begin searching for the origins of the demon they were hunting. Two hours later Dean closed the journal rubbing the heels of his hands into his stinging eyes. He blew out a pent up breath beginning to get frustrated with their lack of progress.
Sam flexed his numb fingers, a slight frown on his face. His eyes wandered off the screen to his hands when he noticed the small white puffs of his breath. Suddenly his brain became aware of the cold room and the danger it represented.
"Dean!" the alarm rang clear in his voice. The sandy head jerked up in response to the note in the younger Winchester's voice. His eyes questioned but the white puff of breath Sam exhaled was explanation enough. Dean jerked to his feet reaching for his gun and Sam followed suit.
"Did you salt the threshold?" Sam asked searching the room.
"Yeah, when we checked in." Dean retorted scowling. He'd set the wards and salted the windows and door the way his Father had taught him, the way he always did at any place they ended up staying.
"I always sal-." The words died in his throat seeing the clean carpet just in front of the door. Both guys faced each other knowing they didn't have much time. Wordlessly, they scrambled to grab jackets not to mention their re-search. Sam was shoving the lap top into his back pack when the room began to rattle.
"We gotta go!" Dean yelled heading to the door but the cold worsened and the carpet crunched beneath his boot. A heavy hand pushed him back hurting his chest. It felt tight as he gasped a breath stumbling into the round table. His lungs felt on fire and the more he gasped for breath the worse it became. The burn intensified with the cold air in the room and he doubled over coughing in pain.
"Dean!" Sam grabbed his brother yanking him away from the door at the same time searching for a way out. His eyes lit upon the window to his left and moved to it. Dean still struggled for breath but he held his gun in front pointed at the misty figure that alternately appeared then seemed to blow away. He heard Sam's grunt and the window rolled over the rock salt left in the sill.
Sam popped the screen off the window throwing their bags out into the late afternoon. Inside the lights flickered, the sheets flew off the beds, the TV turned on and off while the table and chairs overturned.
Sam was half out of the room and dragging Dean over the threshold still trying to breathe when he noticed the clean border, the same spot where Dean's ward had been.
Both Winchester's fell out into the warm air and springy grass. Dean hitched a breath dragging in much needed oxygen. His breathing was still ragged and while his chest ached unbearably he was grateful he could still breathe.
"Go. Let's go!" Dean hissed getting to his feet with Sam's help. They ran to the Impala and seeing Dean go to the drivers side Sam quickly grabbed the keys from his brother's numb hands.
"You can't drive." Sam opened the passenger door and threw in their bags ignoring his brother's glare.
Dean clambered in and closed the door. He didn't like anyone driving his 'baby' but under the circumstances he wasn't about to argue too much, especially because it was Sam. If anyone knew what the Impala meant to him it was his little brother.
Dean felt the cold creep in again aggravating his chest and quickly looked back. Sure enough the wispy white cloud was just outside and not for the first time did the old hate rise in his chest like acidic bile.
"Go, go, Sam!"
He didn't need to be told twice. The engine purred to life and shifting into gear he slammed down on the gas fishtailing out of the motel's parking lot. Both wondered how the crazy dudes in sheets had managed to find them and get in their room. It was obvious the wards had been disturbed and that pissed off Dean. The anger warmed his body but not enough to take the painful ache from his chest.
"We can't drive around forever." Sam stated glancing around nervously. He constantly checked the mirrors searching for the wispy figure. He couldn't see it anywhere but the cold persisted which meant the spirit was still on their ass.
"Holy ground." Dean hitched a breath and eased down into the seat. "They can't get us in a church."
"Where?" Sam glanced at his brother receiving no answer. He noticed the paleness of his face, barely able to breathe and the dark circles under his eyes now closed caused him a moment of panic.
"Dean!" he reached over yanking on his jacket. The movement jarred Dean causing him more pain and he opened hard green eyes glaring. His eyes shot daggers at the younger Winchester. "Where's the church, Dean?"
Dean sucked in a careful breath and took in his surroundings. The map he'd been studying of the town had given him a few locations to check out not to mention his many wanderings around the little town. He recognized the street and pointed left.
"Take a left on Mooney. It's the fastest way to the old mission."
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The Impala tore through the wisps of fog on the road leaving swirling clouds in their wake. Sam didn't let up on the gas but there wasn't anyone out in the early evening. People tended to go in early and Dean thought it was due to the KKK roaming the night grabbing up unsuspecting children.
"I see it!" Sam exclaimed.
Up ahead the cool white mission stood out like a beacon calling them to safety. Once over the threshold Sam parked as close to the entrance as possible. They stumbled inside with Sam carrying a duffle and helping his brother. Dean's breathing was ragged and his face was beaded with sweat wincing in pain at every step.
Sam sat him in a pew dropping the bag at his feet then checking the door. He cracked it open peering out into the night. The white wisps condensed at the edges of the lot obstructing the view of the town.
"We're officially cut off." Sam declared turning to his brother. "Now what?"
Dean sat half out of the pew, eyes closed and taking short shallow breaths. He managed to raise an eyebrow as if to say; 'Whatta ya mean what?'
Morning was still hours away and there was no guarantee the wisps would leave even then.
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So, 1st chapter… any comments? Leave a review.