Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, Dean or Sam, I'm just borrowing them and I give them back when I finished and I don't own anything to do with the film 23.
This idea comes from the film 23. The enigma number 23 is the belief that all incidents and events are directly connected to the number 23. Is it an obsession or is it a curse
Thank you for your reviews. Happy you like it so far
Chapter Two
It was late afternoon when they arrived back from the library Dean threw his jacket on his bed, "Are we dining in or out?"
"In, I'll order pizza" Sam replied as Dean headed for the shower
As Dean came out of the bathroom, a cloud of steam following behind him, he found Sam reading the book
"Hey, listen to this" he waited until Dean was sat on his bed
It was three days before my birthday when we arrived in the Portland Maine the 23rd State of America.
As I mention above my birthday was fast approaching, not that there was anybody to celebrate it with, he wouldn't remember, the only person who cared about my birthday had gone, there would be no cards or cake, no presents to open, just another day. As it turned out it was the worst birthday of my life and one I'd rather forget.
That same night we arrived in Portland I met "M" for the first time, she was mesmerising and I couldn't take my eyes off her. She had long light brown hair and her hazel eyes that seem to look right into my soul; she wore pink, she said it was her favourite colour.
Sam paused to take a sip of his beer. Dean was rubbing his damp hair dry with a towel "Red and white make pink, red adds up to 27 & white 65 equals 92, pink as four letters, 92 divided by 4 is 23
"What?" Sam was astonished
"Huh" Dean replied shrugging his shoulders "don't know just something I heard somewhere, I guess"
Sam stared at Dean in disbelieve then carried on reading
She was no shrinking violet, but neither was I. I'd slept with my fair share of women but this wasn't about sex, this was better than sex, it was something special, we were soul mates, two lonely people wanting to be loved. Within minutes of us meeting she had her lips on mine and from that moment on I was completely hers. As she kissed me I lost all sense of my surroundings and I wanted her to never let go, to be with me for the rest of my life but she did. She left, but she promised she would see me again. After she had left me my heart ached for her to return.
"Dude, believe me there is nothing better than sex" Dean said "pie coming a close second though"
They heard a knock on the room door; Sam huffed as he put the book down and held his hand out, "I've spent my last few dollars on the book"
Dean sighed and then pulled out his wallet and handed him the notes. "That bookstore owner gets richer and I get poorer"
"Sounds to me, like it was love at first sight?" Sam said opening the door and handing over the money in exchange for the pizza.
"No such thing dude" Dean replied
"Says you"
That night Dean switched his cell phone off, and climbed into bed. It wasn't long before his breathing evened out and he fell into a deep sleep. The nightmare returned it was the same as before, as Sam shouting turned into music Dean jumped awake and grabbed for his cell phone, but it wasn't there. Sam switched on the bedside lamp between the two beds, he held Dean's phone to his ear. "Who is this?"
Dean watched the express on Sam face; it was unreadable as Sam ended the call
"Dean what's going on and don't give me that nothing crap you're so good at?"
Dean looked away, but Sam was determined because he knew his brother's stubbornness,
"Dean you're covered in sweat, your heart racing and you look like crap. We're going to sit here all night if that's what it takes until you tell me"
Dean looked back at Sam it was time to confess "There just nightmares that's all"
"Dean, what happens in these nightmares?"
Dean whispered "I commit suicide"
There was a deadly silence and then Sam asked "How long have you been having these nightmares"
"Since we arrived in George Town" Dean replied
Sam jumped up from his bed, untangling the sheets from his long legs and paced the hotel room; he was angry with Dean for not telling him "You didn't think to mention this when I suggested coming here."
"I don't fit the pattern Sam, my 23rd birthday has gone and I have no intention of committing suicide"
"If I had known about these nightmares we would never have come here" Sam yelled back
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Sam had laid awake most of the night, he was still mad with Dean, no not mad livid. He listen to brother's breathing; Dean had reassured him several times that he wasn't feeling suicidal; he was far from it. He said they were just nightmares nothing else and besides his nightmares never came true. But then there were the phone calls; just to be on the safe side he was going to keep a watchful eye on him.
That morning they set out to visit the last victim, Howard Johnson's widow on the way Sam read more of the book to Dean as he drove.
The second night she came to my hotel room, She called me by my true name; I loved the way it rolled off her tongue. She saw through my mask, saw my scars and the real me, She found my hided feelings, she unlocked them, I opened up to her, laying myself naked in front of her, she said I was special, I felt safe with her, I knew she wasn't going to hurt me like some others had.
She told me she loved me, she wanted us to be together and she confirmed she would never leave me like the others had She whispered in my ear about the enigma of the number 23 she said it was a curse, 2 divided by 3 is 666. She said that my birth date added up to 23 just like hers and that we were two cursed souls who were meant to be together. We talked, danced and laughed, I was happy for the first time in a long while. But then he came and found us together, he called her a bitch and told her to get away from me. She fled and I wanted to go after her, but he stopped me. He was angry with me and he told me I had to leave, he said it was for my own good, he was sending me away. I know what you're thinking, I was a grown man with a mind of my own I should have stood up to him but you see I was weak where he was concern, I could never say no to him, I never answered him back and he was domineering, he liked his own way and I followed him round like an obedient dog. But he didn't care if I was happy as long as I did my job he was happy.
Dean pulled the impala up outside the Johnson's house "He sounds like a real bastard"
"Yeah I was thinking that too" Sam replied
As they walked up the path together they noticed the immaculate garden, this was not the garden of a suicidal man, reaching the front door Sam knocked on it; it had the number 23 in big gold numbers. A young woman in her early twenties wearing black answered the door she had short blonde hair; her eyes were red from crying and sad looking she was obviously in mourning.
"Can we speak with Mrs Johnson for a few minutes, I'm detective Roger Taylor and my partner here is John Deacon" Dean asked flashing his fake ID
"I have already spoken with the police" Mrs Johnson replied
"Were just following up on what you told the police" Sam told her
"Come on in" She let them in and showed them into the living room.
They all sat down on the cream coloured sofas, it was Sam who spoke "Were sorry for your loss Mrs Johnson, you told the police that your husband had no history of depression, did you notice anything unusual leading up to his death, like nightmares or strange telephone calls"
Dean stared at Sam; he knew where he was going with this, Sam was checking if his nightmares fitted the pattern.
"Like I told the police there were a few phone calls but he said there was no one there just static and then he started this bizarre obsession with the number 23, but the police dismissed it because nobody commits suicide over a number."
"Sorry, he became obsessed with the number 23?" Sam asked thinking about the book and what Joe black had said about the enigma of the number 23.
"Let me show you" She rose from the sofa and walked out of the room
Sam and Dean followed her down the corridor; she stopped outside an oak wood door "This is; was my husband Howie's study.
Opening the door she walked in closely followed by Sam, the room was a typical study with an oak desk and a computer on top, down one side of the room was a bookcase filled with books. The other wall was completely covered in sums adding up to 23.
Dean followed Sam into the room his eyes went straight to the wall of sums. It was like a box unlocking somewhere in the back of his mind. The enigma of number 23, the belief that all incidents and events are directly connected to the number 23. It made him light headed as information about the number 23 flashed through his mind
World Trade Centre was built in 1976, 1+9+7+6 is 23 and destroyed 09/11/2001, 9+11+2+1 is 23
The Titanic sunk on its maiden voyage 15/4/1912, 1+5+4+1+9+1+2 is 23
Oklahoma City bombing occurred on the 19th April, 19 + 4 is 23
Julius Caesar was stabbed 23 times when he was assassinated
The Hiroshima Nuke was dropped at 8.15, 8+15 is 23
As the room spun Dean's eyes rolled back into his head, his legs gave way and he collapsed hitting his head against the bookcase on the way to the floor.
Mrs Johnson was telling Sam that her husband had locked himself in here for two days, he had reduced his life to the number 23, his date of birth, social security no; his bank account number, the date they met she suddenly screamed out as she saw Dean collapse. Sam spun round to see Dean's unconscious body on the floor; blood flowing freely from a gash on his temple.
"Dean" Sam yelled
TBC