AN: Okay, so I didn't realise how short the chapters were until I posted the first one. This is a little longer and I think I've worked out the kinks people spoke about. Tell me what you think, good or bad.
Chapter 2
They were in Missouri investigating a boy named Caleb Stone. He fell into the water whilst on a fishing trip with his father. For thirty minutes, his father tried to resuscitate him. The doctors eventually pronounced his death when they finally made it to the hospital. Two hours later, just before the mortician made the first cute, Caleb woke up.
"One more time," Sam pleaded with a smile. Caleb was tired from talking. Everyone he had spoken to laughed at him and told him he was crazy. "We promise, we'll believe you," he said catching the boy's eyes with his. Caleb nodded feeling at ease around the strange men and told them how he was trapped between the real world and the spirit world. He was hiding from a Reaper who wanted to take his soul. "But Thomas helped me," the little boy thought back. "He told me what to do. He saved me."
Dean shrugged upon leaving the house. "The kid has a good imagination," he cracked when Sam asked how the boy could possibly know what a Reaper was. But Sam sighed and still tried to convince again him that there was something supernatural about the case. He had done his research before interviewing Caleb. In 1957, there were three young deaths which occurred at close proximity of each other. One of them was of a fifteen year old boy named Thomas Walker who died after chocking on a hard boiled sweet. In 1975, three more male teenagers died suddenly. If he was right, there were going to be another two deaths and they only had five days to stop it.
It was Sam's idea to interview Thomas Walker's brother. "I'm sorry," his only daughter met them at the front door. "My father died two months ago from heart failure." Or a broken heart, Sam thought. Brian Walker was five years younger than Thomas and was there when his brother died. "He never believed it," the daughter told them. "Even though he watched him die… he never believed he was actually dead," she smiled sadly and allowed them to follow her into the living room. She picked up an old photograph of the two brothers and handed it to them. "He tried everything and asked anyone who would listen to him for help. Everyone thought he was crazy."
"Did you?" Sam asked handing her back the photograph. She gently glided her fingers over the glass and sighed. "I went with him the last time he went to a psychic," she told them as she sadly placed the photo back on the shelf. "She told him things only Thomas would know… which made my father believe even her more. She told us he was trapped in between the real world and the spirit world but he unable to move on because his spirit had a different purpose now."
"Don't you think it's odd?" Sam tried to get his brother excited about the case. "That Caleb and Thomas said the exact same thing." Dean shrugged pulled the collar of his suit jacket up around his neck but it wasn't stiff enough and quickly fell down on his shoulders again. "Dude, what's up with you lately?" Sam stopped him from getting in the car. "You ask me for a case and then when I give you one, you're not interested." Dean tried to push by but his little brother was too tall. "It's nothing," he tried to say but it didn't work. Sam knew what was happening. He was missing Bobby all over again.
*o*
Sam now carried his brother's lifeless body back into the motel room and dropped it on his bed. He gently placed his brother's arms at his sides and straightened out his legs. He stood towering over his big brother and for a second it looked like he just was watching him sleep. But there was no movement in his chest and the only breathing that could be heard was his own.
He cursed himself for not listening to his brother's words. Dean wanted to drop the case. "Of course the kid is going to blame the shopkeeper for his death," he moaned. "If a waiter gave me a dodgy pie, I'd blame him too."
He looked around the motel room. There was nothing except silence and he suddenly realised he was alone. No Bobby and now no Dean. He saw his laptop and research books open on the table. He picked up the books and one by one, threw them hard across the room in frustration. He lifted up the wooden table and tipped it over screaming in the process. He felt a hollow emptiness inside him. He grabbed his head and flopped into the nearest chair. The pain in his chest was overwhelming and the lump in his throat forced him not to scream out again. "Please Bobby," he whispered covering his eyes with his hands. "I need your help."
