Title: So Damn Lucky
Author: Disasteriffic Kaz
Info: A quiet night becomes a blur of destruction with no warning…this story brought to you by a happy, bouncy plot bunny. Post 2x02 ELAC
Author's note: I don't think this one's going to go more than three or four chapters and it's only going to be that long because I thought of a little twist to really complicate things. Heh heh heh Hope you're all enjoying!
Also….I'm getting my picture taken with Jared at the Chicago Convention! AHHHHHHHH ahem. Early birthday pressie from XenaScully and I…I…I screamed a little. XD I fangirled. I never do that and I totally just did. I screamed. :D Ok…back to the story. *screams*
Do please Review once you've read. :D Every comment and vote of support helps keep me writing. Not to mention if I've pooched anything, someone can always tell me. :P
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Dean glared up at him. "Bobby, something's wrong. I know it. He'd be here."
"I know, son." Bobby sighed and let go of Dean's shoulders. "You stay put for a few minutes and let me sign you outta here. Get any prescriptions and…and crap. Alright? Stay." He pointed a finger imperiously at the bed. "We'll go find him together."
Dean glared his argument up at him for a moment long and then grudgingly he nodded. "Fine. You take too long I'm leaving without you."
Bobby nodded back, knowing he had only minutes before Dean would make good on his promise and he walked quickly from the room back toward the admissions desk. He'd just have to keep a careful eye on the eldest Winchester so he didn't hurt himself even worse trying to find his missing brother.
CHAPTER 2
Dean fidgeted in the passenger seat of Bobby's truck, trying to find a comfortable position with the pounding ache in his stomach and at the same time keep Bobby from knowing just how much pain he was in. "You didn't see him at all?"
Bobby sighed. "I drove past, son. Didn't stop for a look." He looked over at Dean sadly. "I knew Sam called 911 so I knew where you'd be."
Dean scowled. "You should have stopped."
"Dammit, Dean." Bobby said sharply and took a deep breath to calm his temper. Dean was scared and scared made him angry; he knew that. "I had no way of knowing. I just thought his phone went dead." He cringed at the choice of words but Dean said nothing. Bobby had told him about the call from Sam and Dean would have run from the hospital if his legs would have supported him through it. Having to be helped up into the truck had cooled some small measure of Dean's panic.
The rest of the short ride went in silence until Bobby pulled up in sight of the motel. Dean's jaw dropped as fear for his brother blew through him. "God, Bobby."
Bobby reached across and patted his shoulder in sympathy as he parked next to the little Dodge he and his brother had borrowed from his junkyard. "Come on." Bobby hopped down out of the truck and was around the passenger side before Dean got the door open all the way.
"I can do it." Dean said angrily and rolled his eyes when the older Hunter ignored him and helped him down anyway. As soon as his feet hit the cement Dean headed for the remains of their room. The emergency crews were gone. The lights were out along the motel and the office was closed tight. He stared into the hole that was their room and his mind simply shut down for a moment, trying to make sense of what he was seeing.
"I can't remember anything, Bobby." Dean said softly, finally. He jumped as a chunk of roof tile clattered down into the open room.
"Sam said he couldn't wake you up." Bobby told him kindly. "I don't think you were even awake for…for this." Now that he had a good look he was amazed either of them had survived.
Dean took a step closer and growled at Bobby's hand on his arm. "Lemme go. I gotta find him, Bobby."
"Just…stay here. I'll look." Bobby climbed over the ruin of the wall into the room. He was fairly sure Sam wasn't in there. He'd said something about calling from across the street when Bobby had spoken to him. Still, he knew Dean wouldn't let it rest until the room was searched. It only took him a few minutes to determine Sam wasn't there. All he found were the remains of Sam's laptop crushed on the floor.
Dean stared at it and the wreck of the car that must have crashed through a few yards away. His mind was a blank. How could he not have woken up? How didn't he hear anything and how could he not know where his brother was? Take care of Sammy. His one and only job; the only real job he had and now he was standing, freezing his ass off in a parking lot staring at a wrecked room and Sam was nowhere to be found. He watched Bobby climb back out of the room with that look on his face that said they were still no closer and Dean…snapped.
"Where is he? Where the hell is he?" Dean turned and shouted. "SAM!" He bellowed and looked back fiercely as he felt the hand clamp onto his shoulder. "Where the hell is he, Bobby? Sammy!"
"Calm down, son." Bobby suffered with him. "Dean."
"No! No way, Bobby!" Dean ripped his arm clear and took a few staggering steps away from the motel. "I was lyin' around in a damn bed and Sam's just…he's…" It was too much. He couldn't lose Sam; not so soon on the heels of losing their Dad. He wouldn't survive it. "He's here, Bobby." Dean crumpled as pain washed through his stomach from the wound, going to his knees on a groan. "Bobby, he's here somewhere."
"We'll find him, Dean. I promise." Bobby knelt beside him and put an arm over his shoulders.
Dean rubbed absently at his stomach to alleviate the pain and stared hopelessly at the pavement. "Sammy." He said softly and then narrowed his eyes. He put a hand out.
Bobby watched him put a hand on the pavement to support himself and patted his shoulder. "Let's get you up." He started to pull but Dean brushed his hand off.
"Bobby, look." Dean pointed to what he'd laid his hand over; a track of burnt rubber across the cement. He saw that it went right up to their room and turned to follow it the other way. "Goes all the way across the parking lot."
Bobby jerked to his feet and stared at the tracks. "Cross the road too." Even in the faint street lights he could tell they went almost up to the boarded up building on the other side. "Hot damn."
"He's there, Bobby. I know it." Dean pushed himself back to his feet and went for the car with Bobby at his side. "You said Sam said the EMF went crazy before the crash?"
Bobby nodded and followed beside him. "Ghost. I think Sam was right."
Dean opened the trunk and pulled the weapons bag over. He took out both sawed off shotguns and handed Sam's to Bobby with a little pang. He dug around in the bag and came out with the EMF meter he'd made for Sam and that too made him take a deep breath.
"Easy, Dean. We're gonna go get him." Bobby shut the trunk for him. "Now you don't be stupid about this. You let me lead." He stared Dean down when he opened his mouth to argue. "You're walkin' wounded, son. Not gonna do your brother any good we get dead before we find him."
"Fine. Can we go now?" Dean turned and headed across the street, purpose in his stride and he pushed the pain to the back of his mind. "Wish I'd had the damn EMF up front instead of the trunk when he drove in here. Might have picked up on this damn building then."
"Don't kill yourself with what-if's. You know better than that." Bobby went up to what was once the front door and kicked two boards off the lower half of the door; reached up and pulled another from the top. He reached in and pushed and the old door creaked inside, unlocked. He pulled a flashlight out of his pocket and flicked it on and looked over. "You grab a light?"
Dean nodded and turned on his own. He had to suck in a breath to duck under the remaining boards as he went through the door and took a moment to brace a hand over the bandages on his stomach. "Crap."
"Maybe you should wait…" Bobby started but the glare on Dean's face stopped him. "Never mind."
They walked cautiously into what was once a gracious lobby and Dean pointed to rows of mailboxes in one wall. "Looks like this place used to be an apartment building."
"Ghost would account for it being vacant." Bobby nodded and frowned as he looked around. "You know, I think your Dad was in this town once. Long time ago."
"Dad was here?" Dean asked, surprised. "As in here here?" He pointed to the floor, meaning the building. "Or just in the city?"
Bobby shrugged. "I dunno. Can't remember."
"What was he hunting?" Dean stopped to peer over the front desk and looked back.
"Hell, I don't know. It was a long damn time ago." Bobby rolled his eyes and nodded toward the stairs, walking that way. "You boys were still kids." He racked his memory, trying to pull up the long forgotten details.
"What are the odds, Bobby?" Dean glared around the dusty, empty lobby. "He was here and somehow Sammy's paying for something he did."
"We don't know that." Bobby started up the stairs with Dean on his heels.
Dean snorted darkly. "Bet you ten."
Bobby sorted through old jobs in his head as they walked up to the second floor, trying to find the one that had brought John Winchester to this town. He knew it was in there somewhere, he just had to find it. If there was even a chance Sam's disappearance and the car were related they needed to know.
"SAM!" Dean bellowed up into the stairwell and made Bobby jump. Dean listened intently but heard nothing. He reached the landing and shoved the door open on to the second floor. "Sammy!"
"Could be unconscious." Bobby said softly, cringing at the pained look on Dean's face. "He sounded…out of it, hurt maybe, on the phone."
"Not making me feel better here, Bobby." Dean strode into the hall and stopped as the EMF in his hand against his side came to life with a low whine. "Company." He looked up and down the hall. Some of the doors were open; some were closed. An upended dresser sat in the middle of the hall and one of the light fixtures dangled from the ceiling by a single wire. Dean watched his breath fog out in front of his face and turned to see if Bobby had noticed. He grunted in surprise and then in pain when Bobby rushed him and shoved him back into the wall. A second later he felt the brush of air as something hurtled past and looked up to watch the dresser slam into the end of the hall and break into pieces.
"Balls!" Bobby leaned back. "You ok?" Dean nodded and pressed a hand into his stomach. "This spook seems to have a hard on for Winchesters."
"Huh?" Dean looked back at the dresser. "Dude, that could have hit you too."
Bobby shook his head. "I went into that room." He gestured to a door a few feet away. "I'd only just stepped back out once the thing was already moving. It was aiming for you son."
"Awesome." Dean growled and pushed up from the wall. "We need to find Sam. Now." He started down the hall again. "Sam!" He called and waited for an answer. "Sammy!"
"Sam!" Bobby yelled with him and strained his ears to hear anything out of place. "Dean." He grabbed his arm and stopped him. "You hear that?"
Dean cocked his head to the side and frowned. "Is that…I dunno…tapping?" He listened more intently, closing his eyes and cursed. He turned and ran for the stairs. "It's Morse code Bobby! SOS. It's coming from upstairs somewhere! Sam!"
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Sam opened his eyes slowly and blinked furiously. Panic swept through him. It was black. "Dean." He whispered his brother's name in confusion. There was no light and for a moment, he worried he was blind. The panic receded slightly as he kept blinking at vague shapes began to resolve themselves in the darkness. "Ok…not blind." He groaned and rolled to his side, or tried too. The stab of pain from his shoulder was immediate and left him gasping. "God." He breathed through clenched teeth as the pain slowly receded and moved slowly.
Wherever he was it was small. He put his back against one wall and his feet touched the other. It felt claustrophobic in the dark. He let go of his left shoulder to reach his arm out to the right and found another wall. "Hello?" Sam called. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Dean!" He shouted and then winced, remembering. Dean wouldn't be answering him; he couldn't. He was trapped under a car in their motel room.
"Hello! Anyone?" Sam dug in his pockets with his good arm. His cell phone was missing but he found his lighter and wiggled it out of his back pocket. He flipped it open and spun the wheel, squinting against the sudden glare. He raised it up and looked around in surprise. It was some sort of old elevator car. The wall across from him was the door; the classic sliding, folding gate. The handle mechanism beside it that had once driven the car up and down was torn off and lying on the floor at his feet; wires dangling loosely from the opening. The light at the top of the car was long shattered and gone.
He got to his knees and took hold of the door, giving it a rattle. It didn't budge. He turned his attention to the wires and after checking several was sure no power was coming to the elevator anymore. The air was musty with age and decay; the dust from his movements tickled at the back of his throat. He coughed and dropped back to the floor, slapping against the back wall as his shoulder once more threatened to put him out.
He moaned and fought against the blackness trying to pull him away. The zippo fell to the floor but still lit, guttering and sending shadows dancing around the inside of the elevator car. Several minutes later he was finally able to breathe again and cautiously moved to pick up his lighter. He startled in surprise when he saw his cell phone on the floor beside it. He scrambled to pick it up, hope flaring as he raised it up to call Bobby and then plummeted him back down into despair. The screen was cracked and dead.
"No." Sam said sadly and let his head thump back into the wall and the phone clatter to the floor. "Dammit." His shoulder was a misery. He knew it wasn't dislocated but something was wrong enough to take him down with pain every time he even touched it, let alone moved it. More upsetting to him was the sure knowledge that no one knew where he was; not Bobby and certainly not Dean.
"Get up." Sam told himself weakly. "Get up. Get out." He picked up the zippo and made himself move. He used the wall to slowly push himself to his feet, moving his shoulder as little as possible. He went back to the door and leaned heavily against it. Sam flicked the zippo back to life and peered around his small prison. There was a hatch in the ceiling but there was no way he was climbing out with only one arm. He tried wiggling the fingers on his left hand experimentally and again, the pain drove him to his knees.
"Son'fabitch." Sam gasped in equal parts agony and frustration. The zippo guttered again and went out. He felt along the floor and found it. He froze. The temperature in the car dropped and became freezing in a matter of seconds. He spun the wheel on the lighter and suddenly remembered what had happened. He had been on the sidewalk talking to Bobby. He'd seen the tire marks and looked up at the building. He frowned and had a blurry image of something…a figure peering down at him from a window on the second floor and then it had rushed at him and then…
"Damn." Sam could remember nothing after that until waking up in the elevator. Obviously whatever ghost had sent the car careening into their motel had grabbed him once he'd gotten close enough. "Stupid, Sam. Very stupid."
He turned his attention to the door. In the light from the zippo he could just make out the bottom of a door in the wall through the gate up near his head. If he could just get it open, he could get out. He closed the lighter and jerked the gate but it remained stubbornly closed. "Come on." He groaned and pulled harder. His shoulder protested the movement and he stopped, letting his head rest against the gate again while the pain passed.
The temperature dropped again and he hastily lit the zippo in time to see his breath frost out in front of him. "Who are you?" Sam asked softly.
"Winchester."
The voice was low, gravelly and hollow. It flowed into the elevator car and menace dripped almost visibly from that single word. Sam jerked in surprise.
"Not good." Sam waited and began to shiver in the spirit driven cold. The movement irritated his shoulder, making him hiss in pain. "What do you want?" He shouted. For a few moments there was nothing and then the spirit appeared through the wall opposite him. Sam stared at the dead man. He had been tall in life, nearly Sam's height with long, stringy blonde hair that brushed his shoulders. Hard, blue eyes stared at him from the over-thin face. Sam opened his mouth to speak again but didn't get the chance.
The ghost rushed toward him and through him. The cold was bone deep. It along with the pain of his shoulder hitting the gate sent him to his knees. He leaned back against it and gasped. A second later the spirit returned and blew through his back, sending him falling forward with a strangled cry. Sam lay on the floor of the car; his whole body shaking with the frigid chill the ghost had left in him. His shoulder spun shards of pain through him. He opened his eyes, in agony and saw the ghost coming again as the flame went out on his zippo.
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He didn't know how long he had been unconscious; how long he had been lying on the floor of the elevator car. Sam groaned and hissed; trying to cradle his left arm and not move his shoulder but the cold was still inside him from the ghosts' attack. He pushed against the wall with his legs until his back hit the other and wearily made it into a sitting position. He folded his left arm in his lap and felt around the floor with his other hand for the zippo.
The ghost was gone but the cold remained in his body. Even his heart felt as though it were beating more slowly. His questing fingers closed around the metal of the zippo and he gasped in relief. He spun the wheel and for a moment wished he could huddle around the tiny flame to warm up. He drew his knees up as far as he could and stared around his prison.
"Dean." Sam said in a voice hoarse with pain and cold. He closed his eyes, exhausted. He jerked his head up. He'd heard…something.
Slowly, carefully; he edged across the floor of the car until he was at the gate and pressed his ear closer. The sound came again and hope once more surged through him. It was his brother's voice.
"DEAN!" Sam screamed it. It echoed strongly in the small car. He took a deep breath and screamed his brother's name again. Sam pulled himself up the gate and tucked the zippo back in his pocket. He shoved his hand through the gate and reached up to pound on the door above him. He banged as hard as he could, pounding out an SOS and fought the agony from his shoulder with each jerk of his body. "DEAN! I'm here!"
The temperature dropped inside the car again. "No. No. No." Sam muttered and banged harder. "Dean!"
A rustling sound near him made Sam stop and dig his lighter back out. He spun the wheel, sparking the flame into life and gasped, backing away from the gate. The wires hanging from the wall waved and twined as if alive. "Dean! Hurry!" Sam shouted again. Instinctively, he lurched back as the wires came for him. The movement jarred his shoulder but he had no time to think about. The wires wrapped around his wrists and pulled him down. He hit the floor hard and his vision nearly whited out with pain. The lighter skittered across the floor, flame still burning and allowed him to see another wire as it shot out to wrap around his throat and yanked him back. His head slapped into the gate of the car as his hands were pulled down and against the gate; the wires effectively tying him to it. He kicked the opposite wall with his feet and tried to make as much noise as he could so his brother could find him. More wires snaked out and down his body and soon his legs were tangled with it and held immobile.
"Dean! De…" Sam gagged as the wire around his neck tightened, cutting off his voice. He was going to die. That was the only thought in his head at that moment. Dean wasn't going to get to him fast enough. The spirit appeared on the other side of the car and Sam waited to be choked to death. In spite of the wire around his throat silencing him, he could still wheeze air past it.
"Winchester." The spirit growled into the car again. Sam stared in surprise as the ghost smiled and then vanished back into the wall. The wire didn't tighten; didn't strangle him. It seemed content to hold him and keep him from calling for help. The flame on the zippo went out again and left him in darkness, able to now clearly hear Dean's voice shouting, so much closer, and Bobby's as well. All Sam could do was listen.
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To Be Continued…