A/N: Man, this thing is really starting to flow! Me Gusta.
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The car slammed to a screetching stop, and for once, the damage to the breaks on his baby were the last thing on his mind. Before the car had even shut down, Dean practicaly kicked the car door open and carefully lifted Sam's dead weight into his arms. He crawled out of the car before Bobby and Castiel had even opened their doors, walking up the pathway to a quaint house in the suburbs of San Fransisco. The front door was already open, white light cascading onto the yard, and enabling Dean to make it up the stairs, Cas and Bobby following. He muttered comforts to his brother under his breath, even though he knew Sam couldn't hear.
Inside, four people were waiting. Three women and a man let him in without hesitation, all immediatly swarming, but in a none evasive way, to check the damage. "Oooh god, okay, let's him him upstairs, come on." The oldest woman said, taking charge in a way that Dean was strangely grateful for. She quickly led him up a narrow flight of stairs and down a short hallway to a room that looked like it had just been prepared for them; Dean didn't dare question it, was only, once again, grateful. He gently set Sam's unconsious body down on the fresh linen of the bed.
The man and two other women had apparently followed with Castiel and Bobby on their trails. Upon arriving in the small room, they had all began talking in hurried tones, but Dean didn't care to listen, only focusing on re-applying pressure on the still bleeding wound. At some point, he noticed that one of the women suggested that the room was too crowded and that only those who needed to be there stay. Bobby had looked like he wanted to protest, but Cas had put a hand on his shoulder and guided him out, two of the women following. This left only himself, the man, the oldest woman, and of course Sam.
When a strong but petite hand suddenly touched his shoulder, Dean jumped, his head whipping around to see who it was. The oldest woman stared up at him with reassuring eyes. "What are your names?" She asked, her voice calm.
"D-Dean." He stuttered before swallowing hard and gaining his bearings. "That's my brother, Sam."
She nodded. "Alright Dean. My name is Piper. This is my husband Leo. He can heal Sam, alright?"
Dean nodded. "Okay."
Leo gave a pointed, reassuring glance to Dean, before walking to the other side of the bed. He stretched his hand out and let it hover over the bullet wound. A gentle white light began to glow off his skin, but it was dim. Leo's eye brows drew together in confusion, a look that Dean caught, and didn't like. "What?" He asked, his voice raising as it always did in panic.
Leo licked his lips before drawing his hand back hesitantly. "There's something wrong here..." He muttered, sharing a glance with Piper.
Dean kneeled down by the edge of the bed, his head bowing into ready hands, gripping at his hair in frustration. "Man, if I hear that one more time-"
"Wait." Leo said, running to the door to shout out into the house. "Paige! Come up here!" No sooner had he finished shouting, bright orbs of light appeared in the room, forming into the shape of the girl Dean assumed was Paige. "Paige, I can't heal him alone, my powers are... I don't know, but we'll need two whitelighters to make any progress." Leo explained. Paige nodded with a quick "Okay", and joined Leo at Sam's side. They both held their hands out, and began to glow again. A flash of surprise flashed across Paige's face when she too saw that her light was dim, but she quickly shook it off and focused what energy she had on healing the boy.
It seemed like hours before they pulled their hands away, and in that moment, Dean knew they'd given up. Sam was gone; his little brother was dead. The thoughts echoed in a hollow mind, which is exactly what he felt like, completely hollow as he stared down at Sammy's all too peacefull face. There was a needle slowly peircing through the emptyness, begging him to wake up, to turn back time and fix his mistakes, pleading to not let this be real.
Leo sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he stared down at Sam. "We managed to stop the bleeding, but we don't have enough juice to fully heal him for some reason. The rest is up to him now." He stated.
Dean's head shot up with disbeleiving eyes. "He's alive?"
"Yeah." Paige answered. "But he's in for one hell of a fight." She walked around the bed, placing a hand on Dean's shoulder with a squeeze, before walking about of the room and back downstairs. Leo and Piper did the same, soon disapearing around the corner. Dean found himself frozen in his place kneeling on the floor, staring after them, before his eyes snapped back to Sam. He exhaled, and took in sweet, sweet air for what felt like the first time in a very long time.
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It was 10:00am before Dean came down from Sam's room. They'd gotten there around four that morning, and Dean had fallen right asleep on the chair by Sam's bed after Leo and Paige had stopped the bleeding. It was a long night, and no one blamed him for dragging his feet downstairs and almost collapsing onto a stool in the kitchen. Pheobe watched him out of the corner of her eyes, studying his features. Catching her sister's eye, Paige frowned, tapping her on the shoulder. "What's up?" She whispered.
Pheobe glanced behind her to make sure Dean wasn't catching onto their conversation, then answered. "I had a vision of seeing that Sam guy get shot last night."
"Well, that usually happens when you're psychic Pheobe." Paige teased.
Pheobe rolled her eyes. "But I didn't touch anything to trigger it! That, like, never happens, unless it's really important, but we've never even met these guys..."
Paige sighed. "You've got a good point there." She glanced at Dean over her shoulder, wondering why they seemed to be so important.
Dean rubbed his hands over his eyes in an attempt to wake himself, only to remove it and find a hot plate of food on the counter in front of him. He looked up to see Piper gesturing to the food with her wooden spoon.
"Eat." She ordered, leaving no room for arguement.
Dean of course had no complaints there. "Thanks. Looks pretty damn good." He grinned before digging his fork into the breakfast potatoes. He paused before putting the food in his mouth, lowering his hand. "I never got to thank you for what you all did. Thank you, really." He said earnestly.
"Don't worry about it." Paige smiled as she sat down across from him. "Oh, and your friends told me to tell you they were picking up Bobby's truck, and they'd be back in a couple hours." She added.
Dean flashed her a winning smile before taking a few more bites. "So, what's your story? I mean, you're obviously in it with the angels, or what did you call yourselves again?" He asked.
"Whitelighters." Paige answered. She opened her mouth to answer his other question, but stopped herself, looking at her sisters for the go ahead. Piper and Pheobe shrugged. "And since you also seem to have a few connections, I guess it's safe to say that we're... witches."
Dean choked on his bacon, pounding his fist on his chest to get himself breathing again. "Witches? You are witches?" He asked incredulously, suddenly feeling very uneasy.
"You say that like you've met some before." Pheobe said, leaning against the counter with her arms folded.
"Have." He answered quickly, not in the mood for chat anymore. "Not exactly pleasant."
Piper groaned before turning the burner off on the stove. "I see where this is going." She said, joining her family at the counter. "Not all witches are evil, Dean. The ones that are are just more out in the open about it and easier to find."
Dean assessed everyone in the room with him. Three witches, and 'whitelighter' or whatever. They invited him into their home, healed Sam, and have done nothing but help; it could be a trap. But on the otherhand, Castiel seemed to trust them. He let his tense muscles relax, though he kept his guard up just in case. Call it paranoia. "Alright, fine." He said.
"You're turn." Paige smiled pointedly.
Dean licked his lips, debating for a moment on how much to tell them. "My brother and I are Hunters. Bobby too. Anything evil and supernatural, we gank it. Castiel's a good friend." He answered, figuring he could leave out the messy details.
"Okay, fair enough." Piper chiped. "Now, who wants to help with clean up duty?"
Dean hated doing the dishes. When he was little, he'd always trick Sam into doing them for him. But since these people had saved Sam, he figured he'd suck it up. He had just been about to take his own empty plate to the sink when the lights in the entire house began to flicker simultaniously, and violently. He looked around wildly, searching for any kind of threat on instinct. Then all at once, he stopped, stock still, when he felt a presence next to him. That's when he knew something otherworldly was going on. Fearing the worst, he turned on his heal and raced out of the kitchen, up the stairs and into Sam's room.
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"Dean! Dean, come one man!" Sam shouted, becoming more and more desperate by the second. He had woken up in a strange room, an attic he assumed, that was filled with gemstones, herbs and numerous other magical tools. After the initial freak out, he left the room, and found himself in a foriegn, unfamiliar house. Careful not to make any noise, just in case, he had made his way downstairs, finding Dean sitting in the kitchen, talking to four complete strangers. At first, he was releived to see his brother, but when he called out to him, he didn't answer, and panic settled in. That's about where he was now, standing beside him, tryin to catch hius attention."Dean, what's going on!"
"It's no use." A feminine voice said from behind him. Sam whirled around, expecting a fight, only to find a woman standing in the doorway. Her skin was pale, and her hair was dark and wavy; undoubtably beautiful.
"What do you mean?" Sam asked, not sure he wanted to know.
"He can't hear you. He can't see you." The woman said slowly, taking patient steps toward him. "Sam, right?"
Sam took a step back, not letting her get any closer. "Yeah..."
She smiled sadly. "Listen Sam, and try to understand this. You are having what is called an out of body experience. You are just a spirit wandering around." She explained.
Sam suddenly felt it, the incomplete feeling that had been nagging at him since he woke up, hit him in full force. "A-Am I... dead?" He asked in a panicing tone. As the fear of that notion began to course through his unfeeling body, the lights above him began to flicker violently, causing him to jump and look around in confusion. Dean and the others also seemed startled by this, because after the initial shock, Dean was racing up the stairs. Sam turned back to the woman. "What's going on?" He demanded.
Seemingly just as startled, the woman gazed back at him, studying him. "You're doing this..." She said.
"Like a ghost or something?" Sam chocked. She didn't answer him, only continued studying him, making him feel nervous and infuriated under her stare. "Answer me! Am I dead?" He shouted.
The woman averted her eyes for a moment, glancing back up at him with an out stretched hand, beconing him to follow as she began to walk back towards the stair case. Sam followed numbly as she led him to the second floor and down a short hallway. She stopped in the doorway of a bedroom, and as Sam looked over her head, his breath left him at the sight of his own body on the bed, Dean checking him over. "You're not dead... only comatose." She laughed humorlessly to herself. "I'm not so lucky."
Sam frowned, turning his attention back to her. "Who are you?"
The woman smiled. "My name is Prue."
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Te Gusta? 3 I promise the next chapter will be a little lighter, in fact I've got some really funny bits in mind.