hey everyone. sorry for the wait, sochool's crazy, as usual, so leave me lots of reviews to make me smile!!!!
Drip, Drip, Drip.
What the hell was that?
Drip, Drip, Drip.
Water was leaking from somewhere, dripping near-by, sending water drops to decorate his face, rousing him from his peaceful slumber. Two eyes slowly peaked open, not seeing much at first but after blinking a few times, his vision cleared. It was dark wherever he was and it was frigid. The ground he was laying was hard and cold and he quickly surmised it to be cement. He looked around the small cement room and noticed a set of stairs near his feet that led to a door directly above them They were in a storm cellar; and storm cellars were under basements…shit. He attempted to stretch and position his body more comfortably, but his hands were bound behind him and that made it impossible. What the hell happened?
(Flashback)
"Sam, get up and in the shower. It'll make you feel better," Dean said, drying off his own hair as he made his way out of the bathroom into their bedroom.
The small lump from under the covers moved and slowly, Sam appeared from the mass. The boy trudged his way to the bathroom, and Dean couldn't help but notice how shitty his little brother looked.
"You feeling worse Sam?" His only response was a grunt. "I'll go make you some soup, ok?" Another grunt.
Dean made his way into the kitchen and began to prepare his brother's soup. After ten minutes, everything was done and he heard Sam moving about the bedroom, meaning he was done with his shower. He carefully carried the bowl back into the bathroom.
"Hey Sam, I got something-" but Dean stopped when he saw his brother being held by some man, a white cloth over his nose and mouth. "HEY!" Dean yelled, dropping the soup on the counter but before he could react a cloth was placed over his mouth as well.
Shit there were two of them!
Dean knew he only had a few seconds and he tried to break free, but whoever had him, had him good. They placed their own legs intertwined with his so he could not kick free and one arm was pressing the cloth to his face and the other had grabbed his hands when his first reaction was to grab the cloth. Now his own hands were aiding his predicament. He saw Sam stop struggling and watched his captor lift him like a rag doll before Dean slid into unconsciousness as well.
(End Flashback)
'Well, whoever did it, knew what they were doing,' Dean thought to himself bitterly. Dean thought about what happened over and over, his mind always going back to the look on Sam's face…SAM!
Dean rolled over looking for his brother, but he wasn't to his right side. He rolled over the other direction and found his little brother out cold, bound in the same fashion.
"Sam, Sammy. Can you hear me?" Dean whispered, using his foot to gently push his brother in an attempt to rouse him from his sleep. "Come on Sam, please," Dean whispered. But the boy remained silent, the only sound coming from him was a rattling in his chest when he breathed.
Shit, Dean thought and he leaned his head down as close as he could to listen to the wheezing coming from his brother. There was a gurgling coming from his chest and Dean knew there was a lot of liquid in his brother's lungs. The cold floor and atmosphere weren't helping matters either.
Shit, shit, shit! Dean thought, rolling closer to his brother, hoping his body heat would help his brother.Please Dad, find us soon.
John slowly came about by someone shaking his shoulder. He pulled away from the person, content on sleeping five more minutes. It was probably just one of the boys wanting something…the boys…and the night before came back to him, grief and guilt running through his veins like cold water.
John's eyes opened slowly and found Father Jim's face close to him.
"John, there's another envelop," Jim said, and that got John up and moving in a second flat.
"Where? Where did you find it? What's inside?" John asked rapid fire, following Jim into the kitchen; there lying on the table was the white envelop.
"I just went to get food and when I returned, it was on the map outside the door. I asked the hotel manager, and they didn't see any suspicious activity over the past few days. But he would ask the night manager when he came in."
John nodded, the only thing on his mind was that white envelop on the table, starring at him and mocking him. That white envelop now was a sign of his failure; he failed to keep his promise to Mary, he failed to protect his boys. Numbly he walked to the table and retrieved the cursed item. He slowly but methodically ripped open the envelop and pulled out the contents. There were dozens of pictures of him and the boys at different restaurants and hotels.
"John, what is it?"
"It's…me and the boys…over the last three months at different hotels," John whispered, biting his bottom lip to maintain his composure. He had been followed…FOLLOWED and he had not seen it!
"Dammit!" John roared. The pictures showed them eating or checking in, laughing together and some caught arguments the three of them had had over the span of time they were watched. John kept filling through the pictures until he got to the last one in his hand. It was not a picture at all, but the last was a red, single postcard with a V on the underside.
"John, what does that mean?"
"I…I don't know…" John said, looking over the red card.
"John, I think it's time to get others involved. Will you allow me to call Caleb and Bobby Singer?"
"Yes," John said, taking the pictures with him to the boy's bedroom. He laid out all the evidence out on Dean's bed and sat and starred at it. Next to him sat Dean's favorite t-shirt and Sam's sweatshirt of choice. He reached for them and pulled them into his arms. He raised the clothes to his face and breathed in their scent; Dean's cologne he received from John that he wore everyday and the smell of Sam's shampoo. He sat there for moments he could not distinguish before one tear dropped, followed by another. Grief, guilt, and depression gripped him like the plague, and there would be no ending to his suffering until his boys were found.
What have I done?