"How many shells do you have left?" Sam yelled from somewhere within the cloud of dust. Dean coughed into his jacket sleeve and squinted his eyes, "Three, Sam where are you?" he was attempting to stay calm but he couldn't see his brother and the skin walker was in fact NOT a skin walker but something else.
"Here!" Sam yelled back.
Frustrated, Dean used his free arm to feel out the area in front of him, trying to hit some form – and hoping to god it would be Sam.
"SAM?" Dean could hear the movement but the basement they were in echoed so he couldn't place the origin of the sound and he still couldn't see.
Dean was about to yell again when a hand slammed down onto his shoulder, clapping him on the back – he inhaled quickly which coughing and wheezing then quickly followed because he had sucked in about a quarter of the dust.
"Hey! Dean you alright?" Sam knelt down next to Dean who was on his knees coughing.
"Yeah-" he said between coughs, he pushed his self back up and turned to Sam, still trying to concur the coughing fit. Sam's face was tense, motherly, his eyebrows pressed almost together and his mouth pursed into a small line, frowning slightly as he looked Dean over.
"You okay, man?"
"Dude, you ask me that one more time I'll give you somethin to really worry about." Dean shrugged Sam's hand off his shoulder and smirked, "So how are we gunna kill this son of a bitch, Sammy?"
"It's Sam." Sam said quickly before continuing, "Well it's obviously not a skin walker or any sort of shape shifting – or even a Demon to be honest."
"Which leaves just two possibilities…" Dean finished. Sam nodded curtly. The dust was starting to clear and Dean found himself starring at his shotgun across the room.
"Three guesses what won't help us," Dean's eyebrows popped up in annoyance.
"Yeah, the guns are going to be useless." Sam said, more as an after thought than a response to his brother – who hadn't heard Sam because he was already walking around the room looking for an improvised weapon now.
"So," Sam said out loud as he stood in the middle of the room – it was quiet now, which was never a good thing. Sam was unconsciously starring at the ceiling as he waited for Dean to find something to defend them with. "It's either a spirit or a revenant."
"The difference, Einstein?"
Sam tensed his jaw in annoyance and huffed at Dean's ignorance of a job he'd been doing longer than Sam. "Well," Sam began in his Stanford college know it voice, that annoyed Dean to no end. "A Revenant is really just another word for a ghost, Dean." Dean sauntered back over to Sam with two iron bars in his hands, once eyebrow cocked and a smirk playing across his lips. "Really?" he said with sarcasm.
"Yeah." Sam deadpanned, his glare steady at Dean.
"Yeah well sounds like someone left you out of the loop Frodo, cause a revenant is more than that."
Sam's eyes narrowed as he grabbed one of the bars from Dean's hand. "Excuse me?"
"It could also be a corpse, doesn't have to be a ghost." Dean had leaned in and presented this statement in such a way to make Sam feel ridiculously inferior.
"Well if you'd let me get to that I would have-"
"Yeah, sure Sparky."
Dean walked over to the opposite wall.
The room Sam and Dean were currently in was a basement of a condemned house, that they had previously thought held if not a nest but at least one skin walker. Of course they were wrong, miss information and all that, it was most likely a ghost.
The room was sparsely furnished – probably due to the fact that no one had lived in it for almost thirty years. The floor was part dirt and concrete and the walls were brick, the basement they were in was for the most part – empty.
"What are you doing?" Sam was still standing in the middle of the room, one eye creased in question as he watched his brother tap on the wall across from him and hold his ear to it.
"Well," Dean said as he continued his wall tapping. "If it really is a ghost, it means the body's probably here and since most of the floor is concrete – I can't check there but…" he stopped knocking. He pulled up the iron bar and glanced at it approvingly and then smashed it into the wall in front of him.
Sam jumped a little and held his arms up to his face. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Sam freaked, slightly.
"Sam," Dean turned to him slightly exasperated. "I'm checking the wall for a body." He said this as if it was the most ordinary thing in the world to say, which granted in the Winchester world it probably, was. But Sam hadn't followed Dean's train of thought so he was currently confused at how Dean went from point A all the way to point D.
"Yahtzee!" Dean's cocky grin curved into his face, Sam walked over and peered into the hole in the wall – a mummified body.
"Hey, You think she was hot back in the day?"
Sam looked back at Dean, frowning. Dean chuckled out loud and then pulled out the bottle of accelerant and his lighter.
2 HOURS LATER – BENTINO'S PIZZADean grabbed his ninth slice of his meat lover's pizza, shoving half of it into his mouth and sucking down a beer in accordance. Sam sat across from him, poking at his Chicken Alfredo pasta, as he looked at him laptop to the right of him.
Dean usually didn't talk to Sam after a case, all he wanted to do was to get some good food and maybe pick up a decent girl to spend the night with afterwards. So when Sam chicken picked at his pasta while he surfed the web for a new case Dean didn't complain, because this was just how Sam was and Dean was okay with it.
To be honest he and Sam had been tense over the past week since the night Ruby had come back to their motel room for pizza. Dean had been snappy the next morning and would argue with Sam over almost anything, so they both were a little uncomfortable with each other's company since then. Sam knew of Dean's disapproval for Ruby and Dean knew about Sam's stubborn tendency to basically not give a shit that Dean didn't like her. So, like the case they'd just closed – it had been spent with a lot of pissy banter and one-upping.
Dean was starring at the waitress across the room; she was glancing back at him every minute or so – giving him a frisky smirk after she would sashay across the restaurant, giving a nice view of her ass. Dean had his head titled slightly, a mischievous smirk played across his lips as he watched her move, her movements purposeful all for Dean's own entertainment – something he wanted to become a private show later.
"So," Sam broke the silence and Dean's concentration, looking back at Sam as he closed the laptop. "How'd you know to look in the wall?"
Dean snorted and finished his beer. "I'm a professional Sam, I know things."
Sam stared at him for one long moment, clearly not impressed or persuaded.
"No, really."
Dean sighed and looked away at Sam, back at the waitress…she was wearing a low cut blouse, Dean licked his lips as he eye raped her.
"Dean."
Dean looked back at his brother then sighed. "You know that movie we watched the other night?"
Sam cocked his head to the side and frowned slightly, "No" he huffed.
"The one with Kevin Bacon and he was seeing ghosts and the chick was like killed and stuffed into the basement wall under the chimney?"
"Oh, yeah. Stir of Echoes."
"Yeah, well…yeah that's it."
Sam starred blankly. "Excuse me?"
Dean ignored him and starred back at the girl, she was a compact little thing – with curves in all the right places, dark tanned skin, and brown almost black hair.
"So your telling me that if it wasn't for Kevin Bacon you would have never cracked this case?"
"Well he is a good actor…on occasion."
Sam leaned back into his seat and stared at his brother in disbelief, he then exhaled loudly and laughed, his brother sure was somethin.
Sam was in the other room in the restaurant, Dean had followed the waitress to the adjoining room, which was a bar, and he spotted her towards the back.
He had made his way over to the waitress and was now leaning against a doorway as he spoke to her, using all the lines in the book and was doing pretty good, until…
"Well, You're a regular ol Casanova huh, Dean?"
He was in mid sentence with the girl and he just stopped, she looked around him and then back at Dean. Who's face was no longer flirty and friendly, she just bit her lip and then turned away from him and went into the kitchen.
All my hard work for noth'in…
Dean turned around; half frowning half smiling it was more of a cocky contented look he gave only to her.
"Ruby" he said with faux-gusto.
"Dean" She crossed her arms and smirked up at him.
"I have a job for you and your brother."
"Yeah? Well cram it with walnut you ugly ass bitch, cause I ain't got any interest in what you got to say." He started to turn away and then stopped at her next comment.
"That's a weird thing to say, since you can't stop starring at my ass normally."
"Did you say something, bitch?" Dean turned back to her, stepping forward and invaded her personal space, head tilted to the side as his face was inched from her's as he looked down at her.
Her smile just stretched wider, and she brushed a strand of blonde hair from her face and then re-crossed her arms and shifting her wait to the opposite foot.
"You heard me, you flaccid disproportionate dick." Her tongue was quick.
"ohhh ah ha ah." He laughed obnoxiously. "Look Ruby, necrophilia isn't really my thing – so go rot elsewhere, you black-eyed Skank."
"Funny, cause last week you looked like you wanted me to jump your bones."
Dean and Ruby where inches from each other, there lips even closer and all Dean could focus on was how skin tight those leather pants where and that long golden blonde hair that was begging to be messed up. He licked his lips and narrowed his moss green eyes, he was so horny and considering that Ruby had just forfeited his intended lay for the evening he didn't feel so dirty for being turned on by a Demon – that and he was a little buzzed so he wasn't thinking as clearly. Ruby's gaze was unwavering and as hot as Dean felt right then he couldn't figure out why she was still so intensely starring at him, was she waiting for a response?
Dean's hair was slightly longer than usually and messed up in a sexy tousle, his father's old leather jacket was snug against his shoulders and the collar was popped up to where it tickled the edge of his jaw.
Ruby didn't feel much, she knew what she wanted in life and just took whatever appealed to her at the time. There wasn't love and regret and guilt; there were just raw feelings of lust and desire. And right now she wanted the arrogant, egotistical, self righteous, pretty boy – Dean Winchester.
She had impulses and he was so temptingly close….
Dean's focus was on her lips, those soft pink curves on her face – the place that all those little quick insults came from, flicked off her sinful tongue. He slowly moved his hand forward to her waist and stepped that small step forward closing the small gap between them.
He smelled of leather, dirt, old spice, and rain….