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: Ok, ok. One more chapter after this for my plot bunny. :P It's just bouncin' around so damn cute I can't say no to the little guy. *snicker*
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! 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.
CHAPTER 3
"Sam!" Dean shouted and ran out onto the fourth floor, heedless of the pain in his stomach. "Dammit Sam! Answer me! Sammy!"
Bobby jogged close behind him. "Dean, wait!" He took Dean's elbow and pulled him to a stop. The hall was silent. "It's stopped."
"I heard him, Bobby." Dean panted and leaned a hand onto the wall, curling his other arm over his stomach. "I heard his voice."
"So did I." Bobby assured him. "He's in here…somewhere."
"Why'd he stop?" Dean asked in a voice made small with fear and pain. He shook his head and pushed off the wall. "Let's split up."
"No way." Bobby said firmly. "You are in no shape to take this thing on alone if it comes after you again."
Dean wanted to argue but the nagging pain in his stomach told him Bobby was right. "Fine but can we pick up the damn pace?" He swallowed back the pain again and strode off down the hall.
Together they searched the building floor by floor, checking in each room, in every closet and found no sign of Sam. Dean became more and more consumed with worry with each floor they cleared and by the time they finished searching the sixth and final floor his anger won out over fear and exhaustion.
"Son of a bitch!" Dean shouted and slammed his fist into the wall next to him and through it.
"Take a breath, son." Bobby took his shoulder in a firm grip. "We've missed something." He studied Dean's pale, sweat covered face and sighed. "You need to lie down. That doctor would kill me if he knew what I was letting you do."
"Letting me?" Dean growled angrily at him. "You're not letting me do anything. I'm not leaving here without him."
"Dean…" Bobby paused as the EMF in Dean's pocket started to whine again. "Oh balls. Here we go again."
Dean spun and watched down both ends of the hall with his shotgun ready. "Wish we knew what this guy's problem is." The air cooled around them, making their breath puff out in little clouds. Dean shivered with the chill. "Come on!" He yelled.
"Winchester."
The voice breathed into the hall and made both men stare in surprise. "Did he just say…" Bobby started and Dean nodded.
"Our name. Yeah." Dean narrowed his eyes. "So it is personal." He took a few steps away from Bobby. "Where's my brother you son of a bitch?"
There was a sound that might have been a laugh and then the spirit erupted from the wall beside Dean and crashed into him and through him. Dean was flung back into the wall with a short cry and slid to the floor.
"Dean!" Bobby ran to him and crouched over him. "Son, you alright?" Dean gave him a short nod but it was clear he wasn't. Bobby looked down and cursed again. There were spots of blood on the front of his shirt. "Alright, that's it. We're getting out of here." Dean glared up at him while panting for breath and Bobby waved a hand. "For now, dammit! We need more information if we're gonna find Sam. Like maybe a damn floor plan of this building!"
Dean wanted nothing more than to tear the building apart brick by brick until he found Sam but knew Bobby was right. That didn't make it any easier to nod and agree to leave his brother behind, even if it was only for a short while. He took the arm Bobby held down for him and let the older man pull him to his feet.
"An hour." Dean said firmly as they went quickly back toward the stairs. "That's it, Bobby. One hour and then we're back here."
Bobby nodded. He'd take what he could get.
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Sam could hear them through the wall behind him; Dean's voice, angry and under it the fear; Bobby's voice laden with concern as he called Sam's name. He heard Dean yell and a thump and he knew his brother had put his fist through a wall in his frustration. Sam tried to call out. They were so close! The wire around his neck wrapped tighter allowing him only the barest trickle of air.
He heard the conversation and knew they were leaving and he panicked. He wanted to shout, to scream that he was right here! He jerked against the restraints holding him down and the motion jarred his shoulder. The pain and the lack of oxygen won this time and he gratefully lost consciousness as Dean and Bobby's voices moved away from him.
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Dean rested in Bobby's truck outside the small town hall. Bobby had convinced him to stay put while he went in after the blueprints for the building. He was itching to go back. He needed to go back and find Sam. He wouldn't allow himself to consider that Sam was already dead. Deep down he thought he would know if that happened; that he would feel it if Sam left the world…left him.
He checked his watch again and tried not to twitch with the passage of time. It had been almost an hour since they left. Dean pulled the front of his shirt up and peeled back the bandage. The stitches had held but blood had seeped out after his impact with the wall. Bobby wasn't happy about it and had argued hard for him going back to the hospital or at least a new motel and letting him search for Sam on his own. Dean snorted. He loved Bobby like a father but he wasn't trusting Sam to anyone but himself. Saving Sam was his job. His father's last words came back to him and he scowled up at the night sky; the now familiar fear and guilt coming back to him.
"What the hell did you mean, Dad." Dean whispered softly. "Save him or kill him." He ground his teeth together and after a minute thumped a fist into the dash. "Bullshit." The very thought of killing his little brother was repugnant and their father should have known that. He jumped and looked up as Bobby opened the driver side door. He'd been so wrapped up in his own thoughts he hadn't even seen him come out.
"Hey." Bobby got in and pulled the door shut. He set a thickly folded pile of paper beside Dean on the seat. "Got the blueprints and I did some digging." He pulled a sheaf of papers from his jacket and handed them over. "Think I know why that spirit's so hot on you and Sam." He scrubbed a hand over his face tiredly. "Your Daddy was here and in that building 'bout twenty some years ago. Ghost hunt."
"Well he missed it." Dean said angrily and opened the pile of papers.
"That's the thing. He didn't." Bobby started the engine and backed away from the darkened building. Breaking and entering a federal building always put his teeth on edge and he was glad to get away before someone noticed the security had been turned off. "He did salt and burn a ghost. It was easy to miss. Hell I missed it!" He thumped his chest. "I remember now, once I saw the articles."
Dean looked at the copied pages and pictures of the abandoned apartment building. It looked different in the pictures. It wasn't boarded up, curtains hung in the windows; it almost looked homey if not for the few tenants gathered together for the picture. They all had the same wide-eyed, shocked look on their faces and he scanned quickly through the test beside it.
"A serial killer ghost?" Dean looked up in surprise.
Bobby nodded. "Good news. Odds are Sam's still alive. Fits the M.O."
"But Dad ganked him." Dean shook his head. "How's this asshole still there if…"
"There were two." Bobby reached over and tapped the papers in his hands. "Keep reading. The cops missed it at the time. Two guys killing together and they both lived in that damn building. Died there too but not together. The other guy, the partner, they think he killed himself or got taken out but they never found the body."
Dean read the rest of the article and flipped to the next page and the next with growing frustration. "So, the guy Dad ganked, he died in a shoot-out with cops right in the lobby."
"Yep. Then a few years later tenants started going missing. Their bodies would show up later laid out in the lobby like friggin presents." Bobby stared darkly out at the road. "Ligature marks, signs of oxygen deprivation, bruises, repeated strangulation."
Dean growled and read the cause of death. "All dead of a series of gunshot wounds to the chest with no bullets ever found."
"Kinda hard to track down ghost rounds." Bobby said sadly. "Now the other guy, the partner, he died a few days after the one the cops killed." He glanced at Dean to see how he was taking the news; his jaw was visibly clenched. "Here's the thing. The cops never figured out where Silas, that's the one the cops killed, they never figured out where he was keeping his victims before he tossed them in the Lobby."
"Which is why we can't find Sam." Dean set the papers aside and grabbed the blueprint off the seat.
"They searched that building top to bottom and never found it." Bobby rolled his eyes. "'Course that was forty years ago when these guys were alive and no one thought to check the damn building plans and then when your Dad came through twenty years later he didn't have any reason too."
"So what? This guy's out for us because Dad sent his partner off to hell?" Dean shook his head. "How in hell did the cops miss a partner? How did Dad?" It was one more kernel of anger and betrayal to add to the pile that now belonged to his father.
Bobby shrugged. "It was a long time ago, son. Your Dad was still learnin' the ropes and he did the research. He just stopped lookin' once he found Silas and I probably would'a too." He looked over to Dean to see if his words were sinking in. "The killings stopped after John got rid of Silas."
"So this guy just didn't like playing without his partner." Dean groaned. "Until we come along."
"He's alive, Dean." Bobby reassured him. "This sicko won't kill him right off."
"He'll torture him." Dean gritted his teeth together. "Sammy can take it. He won't give up."
"I know." Bobby sped into the parking lot of the ruined motel and parked. He didn't want to put another moving weapon anywhere near the building. "How's your stomach?"
"It's good." Dean climbed carefully down out of the truck. They collected their weapons and flashlights and with blueprints in hand headed into the building once more.
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Sam woke slowly in the darkness. It was silent but for the sound of his own harsh breathing. It took him a moment to realize the pressure had lessened around his throat. He cautiously pulled at his right hand and stifled a gasp when the wires wrapped around his wrist failed to hold it to the wall. He pulled his hand free and reached up, giving the wire around his throat a pull and quickly ducked his head out of them. Getting his left arm free was more of a challenge and left him panting several times as he tried not to pass out each time his shoulder moved.
He fumbled around the floor for the lighter and closed his fingers around it finally. Sam flicked it to life. The small amount of life helped settle him. He stood it up carefully on the floor of the elevator car and bent to pull the wires from his legs. It was difficult and took longer than he wanted with only one hand. Every moment it took to free himself he expected the spirit to return. His nerves sang with the tension but finally he was free. Sam grabbed the lighter and made it to his feet slowly.
Sam was going to get out this time. He told himself that firmly. He held the lighter to the gate and got a good look at the locking mechanism. A small piece of the metal was bent over the latch, keeping it from opening. He groaned, wishing he had another hand to hold the lighter with but he swallowed it and closed it, snuffing out the light. He tucked it in his pocket and felt around the lock until he found the bent hasp. He grunted with the effort of getting a grip on the metal and pulling. He could feel the sharp edges biting into the skin of his fingers and ignored it even as his fingers became slick with blood. Finally it bent out and he sighed in relief, letting go to curl his fingers into his hand and swallow back the added pain.
"Ok." Sam said softly. He took hold of the gate and pulled. This time it moved, rattling back slowly and folding into the opposite side. Every sound made him stop and listen but the spirit seemed to be occupied elsewhere or had spent himself attacking Dean and Bobby. He didn't care. Every moment the ghost was absent was one more chance for him to get himself out of it.
He took the lighter out and it flared to life again. Sam raised it up so he could see the bottom of the door near his head. He wanted to drop where he stood and just give in to the pain and sleep. He was overcome with exhaustion in every bone and the constant burn from his shoulder was no help. He gritted his teeth. He needed to get out and find his brother. He needed to know if Dean was alright. Sam couldn't think of any good reason for them to have left him there for so long that didn't involve Dean bleeding out somewhere. He set the zippo on the small ledge on the inside of the elevator door near the side where it wouldn't be in the way.
"Damn I wish I had both hands." Sam groaned. He bent carefully and sobbed a grateful breath when he felt the knife at his ankle. If that car had plowed into their room a few minutes later, he would have removed it and been in bed. He slid it free and went back up to the door, carefully wedging it between the halves of the door. "Not…dying…in here." He growled and fought to open a crack in the door. He let the knife go and shoved his fingers in the gap. Sam pulled on one side, shouting as he worked to get it open and not stumble to the floor in pain. He earned himself a foot of space and eagerly moved to peer through the gap. The sight that met his eyes took the wind out of him and did send him to his knees. He let his head thump into the cinder wall of the shaft in despair. The door had been walled over from the outside.
"Dean." Sam gasped through the pain and huddled around his bad arm.
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"Son of a bitch! Bobby!" Dean called and waited for the older Hunter to jog back to him. "Look at this!" Dean held the plans out and pointed. "No wonder they didn't find anything when they searched."
Bobby grabbed the page and peered down at it. "Well I'll be damned." There, on the page, was clearly marked an old elevator. Just below it a scrawled note that it had been abandoned and all the doors walled off.
"That's where he is." Dean said, feeling it in his bones. "Somewhere on the third floor. The car must be up there." It was where they'd heard Sam's voice the loudest. "Come on." They were on the second floor and Dean went as fast as his wound would allow to the stairs. "Shoulda brought a damn axe."
Bobby ducked ahead of him going up the stairs, taking point. "Plenty of crap around here we can use to bust through drywall." He wanted to be sure if they ran into the spirit, he'd meet it first. Dean was in no shape to take on the spirit of a pissed off serial killer. He tried not to think too hard about how it managed to keep Sam quiet for so long.
They came out on the third floor and Dean strode ahead of him down the hall, retracing their steps to where he'd punched a hole in the wall earlier. Dean unfolded the plans again and oriented himself to the building design with Bobby looking over his shoulder. "There. I think." Dean pointed down another hall to their left. "About…what is that, twenty feet in?"
"Yeah." Bobby headed down the hall and counted his steps then stopped. "Which side?"
Rather than answer, Dean went to one side of the hall and banged on the wall. "Sammy?" He shouted and banged again.
"Dean!"
Sam's voice, even muffled, coming through the wall made Dean's knees weak. Only Bobby's hand under his shoulder kept him standing until he recovered himself. "Sam, we're coming. You ok?" There was a very pregnant pause before his brother's voice came again and Dean felt his skin crawl.
"I'm ok." Sam shouted back. He fought back to his feet and wiped at the tear that escaped to trail down his cheek. It had taken him a moment to realize that it actually was his brother's voice calling so close to him. He'd been nearly unconscious again. Sam reached his good arm and pounded his fist into the drywall through the open elevator doors to let Dean know exactly where he was. He wanted to tell Dean to hurry. The flame on the zippo was guttering again, this time he knew from the fact it was almost dry of lighter fluid. He kept the panic to himself and flattened his hand against the plaster. A moment later he felt the vibration as Dean hit the wall on the other side and gulped back the relief.
"We're coming, Sammy. Hang on!" Dean yelled and sat back on his knees next to the wall. "Bobby, get me something to break this damn wall open."
"On it." Bobby patted his shoulder and dashed down the hall, looking into each room as he passed for something to use. There was a tone to Sam's voice even through the wall that said he was anything but ok. If he could hear it, Dean could hear it. He found the remains of a bed frame and tore the metal struts from the aging wood and ran back. "Dean. Here."
Dean took the rough, metal club and stood. "Sam stand back!"
Sam heard and backed away from the wall. The darkness was disorienting since the zippo's flame had died. His back bumped into the back wall of the car and he stopped, waiting and listening as the first bang sounded. A few seconds later and a small hole appeared above his head; then another and light slivered in through the gaps. He saw his brother's face appear in one of the holes, blocking the light and grinned with relief.
"Dean." Sam said in a voice gone hoarse.
"Hey, kiddo." Dean smiled and shifted his head slightly to let the light fall on his brother again. What he saw scared him. Sam's neck was covered in blood; it had stained the neck of his t-shirt. He stood with one arm supporting the other and he could see more blood at his wrists. "Sammy. You ok?" Sam nodded wearily. "Ok." Dean decided not to argue the point just then. "Stay back there."
"What?" Bobby saw the look on Dean's face; it was dark and filled with worry.
Dean shook his head. "Not now." He hefted the metal strut and swung at the wall again. Bobby matched him swing for swing at first but Dean started to fall behind as each blow pulled at the wound in his stomach.
"Sit down already, dammit." Bobby's voice so close to his ear surprised him and Dean realized he was leaning with his head against the wall. "I'll finish this."
Bobby pushed Dean gently until he slid to his knees with his back against the wall. He turned back and swung again. It took him another ten minutes to clear the bottom of the door to the floor and he let the impromptu weapon drop to the floor with a clatter. The elevator car was halfway down the wall. He peered into the gloom at the top of the car and his eyes widened. A skeleton lay on top as though it had fallen there from a great height.
"I know where the body is." Dean said ruefully as Dean struggled to his feet beside him.
Dean looked in through the ragged hole and shook his head then dropped to his knees to see his brother. "You ready to get outta there, Sammy?"
"Yeah." Sam stumbled forward and reached his good arm up to his brother and Bobby. "Get me out of here. Please."
"Hey, son." Bobby smiled kindly at him and laid flat on the floor to reach into the car while Dean took hold of Sam's right arm. "Gimme your other hand."
Sam shook his head. "Can't." He clasped his fingers around Dean's wrist. "Something's wrong with it since…since the crash."
"Damn." Bobby groaned. "Ok, gimme his arm, Dean."
Dean shook his head. "No. I got him."
"Dean, dammit…" Bobby started but Dean was already pulling.
Dean planted his left foot against the wall and leaned back, pulling on Sam's arm. His brother gave a strangled cry and suddenly went limp in Dean's grasp. "Sammy?"
"Keep pulling." Bobby ordered. He was still lying in the door and had seen Sam's arm move, his face go white before his eyes had rolled back in his head. "He's out." Bobby reached down as Dean pulled him up and slid his hands under Sam's left shoulder. The kid was unconscious; he wouldn't be feeling it anyway. Bobby pulled along with Dean and got his head and shoulders out of the car and into the hall.
Dean crawled his hands up Sam's right arm and got a grip under his shoulder. He bit his lip against the pain flaring in his stomach. "Come on, Sammy. Help us out here." Sam was dead weight. "Almost…got him. Pull harder!"
Bobby tugged on the shoulder and then reached further in to wrap his fingers around the back of Sam's belt in his pants.
At that moment the air in the hall suddenly chilled. "Aw come on!" Dean shouted angrily and then yelled in surprise when Sam was jerked in his grasp. "Bobby?"
"I don't know!" Bobby kept a firm grip in Sam's belt and felt the young man pulled again, as if something below him was trying to pull him back in. Sam was jerked harder and Bobby's grip slipped on the belt, sliding out of his grip.
"No!" Dean shouted and strained to pull backward and take his brother with him. "Sammy!"
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To Be Continued…