Title: The Reader's Special: Third Edition
Author: Disasteriffic Kaz
Info: Set post 1x17 "Hell House"- This is the Reader's Special where you tell me what YOU want in each chapter & I write it. Every event prompted by you after each chapter. Hurt/limp/awesome/caring!Sam/Dean
Author's note: **ADULT SITUATIONS in this chapter. I tried to keep it 'R' rated at most. :D
Ok. Gotta say, let's try to keep the crazy to a minimum. XD I write Canon. You know this and there are certain things that just would never happen in RL or on the show. You know who you are. I'm capable of some serious tap-dancing with prompts when needed but even I have my limits. :D
Also, let's leave the girls the boys hook up with out. You wanted them to get lucky, they did. They've both ridden off into the night now. XD Thank you.
I apologize for the delay on this chapter. Real life has reared its head and the last week has been a blur while my marriage ends and I work to leave here but don't worry. You know I always finish what I start and by the time I write the next chapter I'll have a new home with the bestest of best friends who has taken me into her home while I start over. :D
After a new chapter is posted, please review AND give me your prompts that you would like to see in the next chapter. I will do my best to work them in. Your ideas will drive this story.
RULES:
One Prompt per Person per Chapter.
No Wincest/Slash
No MPreg
Prompts must be for the next chapter, not the story over-all. Leave that to me. :D
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 looked down at the cop, frowned and then his eyes went wide. "Oh, boy."
"Wish I'd known you were a Fed last night." The officer said and glared at Dean. "Don't play pool like a Fed, that's for sure."
Dean groaned. It was the last man he'd fleeced at pool the night before. "Well ,I sure wish I'd known you were local PD." He held out a hand with a smile and hoped their cover wasn't about to be blown. "No hard feelings?"
Rather than take his hand or answer, the officer continued to stare, and Sam had to turn away and smother a laugh as Dean squirmed under the scrutiny. The depression he'd been falling into since the diner slipped away while Dean stuttered, and he waited to hear Dean talk his way out of this one.
CHAPTER 4
Sam took pity on his brother and stepped in front of him. The officer had a hand resting on his sidearm, and while Sam knew he wouldn't pull it and shoot at a crime scene, it was upping the tension level. He needed to defuse it. "Officer, believe me I sympathize. He's my partner." Sam rolled his eyes and smirked. "Do you have any idea how many times a week he hands me my ass at pool?" He saw the officer's lips twitch and knew he had him. Sam waved a hand back at Dean. "Asshole hasn't had to pay for a dinner in like…three months."
"Not my fault you suck," Dean said and laughed, catching on to what Sam was doing. "You spent less time checking out asses, you might get a ball in the pocket once in a while."
"What?" Sam turned and glared at him. "Dude, I'm not the one who can't keep his gun in his holster."
The officer snorted and then laughed, shaking his head. He reached out and grabbed Dean's hand, giving it a shake. "I'll take a re-match on that game sometime, Agent, and I promise," he pulled on Dean's hand hard enough to yank him an inch closer, "I won't be such a pushover the next time. Gary Preston."
Dean grinned sheepishly. "Dean. My partner, Sam. You're on, but maybe not when we're standing over a dead body."
"I get off in an hour." Gary fixed him with a challenging look. "Rosie's bar in two?"
Dean glanced at Sam and smirked at the look on his face. "Sounds good. Better bring your A-game, Gary."
"If you boys are done comparing the caliber of your firearms, could we perhaps get back to the business of murder?" Dr. Landers asked from where he crouched over the dead man and raised an amused brow at them.
Sam chuckled, liking the man and nodded as he knelt as well to get a closer look at the wounds. "These do look like an animal."
"I'm gonna go work the crowd." The officer nodded to each of them and left with a last, meaningful glance at Dean.
"I think I wounded his pride," Dean said with a soft laugh.
"Maybe you should start asking for badges before you hustle." Sam told him with a smirk as he stood.
"Come on." Dean pulled his arm and headed away from the body and the M.E. "Thanks for stopping Officer Grumpy from putting holes in me."
Sam chuckled and rolled his eyes. "Well, big brothers are hard to train. I'd hate to have to start over." He ducked away from the slap Dean sent to his head and then frowned as he saw they were heading back to the car. "Dude, aren't we going to search for the creature? What if it's still here?"
Dean shook his head. "No way. It's a friggin circus." He waved an arm to point out the crowd of onlookers, the officers milling around them, and the sea of camera phones aimed at the scene.
"How the hell are we supposed to hunt this thing with an audience in town?" Sam asked as they ducked back under the tape and pushed through the crowd.
Dean waited until they were through the crowd before speaking. "I think we're not gonna catch this thing while it's hunting. We gotta find its nest." He opened the door and looked across the roof of the Impala at Sam with a smile. "I say we gear up and search the woods where the first body showed up. Seems to me…"
"Its first kill would be near its nest. Yeah." Sam finished his sentence with a nod.
"But first, I'm gonna…" He broke off and stared as the blonde woman from the diner came out of the crowd behind Sam and stopped, staring.
"Dean, what?" Sam saw him staring over his shoulder and turned. He felt the world slow as she stood before him again; the woman who could have been Jess' twin. She stared at him now as he fought to swallow past the lump in his throat.
"Get in the car, Sam," Dean told him. "Dude, in the car. Come on." He went quickly around the car and took his brother's arm, trying to push him into the seat and then sighed, rolling his eyes as he heard her voice.
"That's them. The men from the diner."
"Ah, crap," Dean groaned and looked back at her. Gary stood beside her and glared darkly at both of them. Dean turned and stood in front of his brother as the cop came over to them with the woman.
"You wanna tell me what you two were doing making eyes at my sister and freaking her out?" The officer demanded angrily and slid an arm over her shoulders.
"Oh, you gotta be kidding me." Dean stared between them. "She's your sister?"
"I'm sorry." Sam whispered and couldn't stop looking at her.
"You're sorry? You creep out my little sister and you think that's ok?" The officer growled at them and pushed her behind him. "What the hell kinda freaks are you?"
"Hey, step off, pal." Dean put a hand on his chest in warning. "It wasn't like that." He looked down at the girl and tried a smile. "We're sorry, alright? We didn't mean to scare you."
"It's my fault." Sam stepped around Dean to look at her and swallowed hard. "I thought…I mean you look…" He swallowed again and took a breath. Speaking to her was harder than he thought it would be. Instead of trying to talk again, he took out his wallet, unfolded it and pulled out the picture he kept there. "Here," He said gruffly and handed it to her.
"What?" She took the picture and looked at it and then stared in surprise as her jaw dropped open. "Oh, wow. Who is this?"
"Holy crap, Gena." The officer bent over her shoulder and looked. He smirked. "Mom have a fling with the milkman we don't know about?"
"Shut up, Gary." Gena elbowed him roughly and looked up at Sam. She saw it now, the sorrow etched into his face as he looked at her and she softened. "Who was she?" She knew the woman in the picture was dead. She had to be. No one looked like that for someone who was still alive.
"My girlfriend," Sam replied softly and took the picture back. He gently placed it back in his wallet and leaned in to the hand Dean laid on his shoulder for support. "I'm sorry I frightened you. It's just…you look so much like her I…"
Gena sighed and glanced up at her brother. He nodded and she turned back to Sam. "It's alright. I get it. I would have been stuck staring too. I'm sorry…about your girlfriend."
"Come on. Car, Sammy. In." Dean turned him and pushed him down in the passenger seat then shut the door before looking back to them. "It wasn't that long ago. Seeing you just threw him hard." He gave a weak smile to the officer. "I promise no more stalker stares."
"I'll still take that rematch. Rosie's bar. I get off in a couple hours." Gary nodded and smiled, letting the anger flow away. He pulled his sister in a little closer, thinking of the dead woman who so resembled her and shivering.
"Deal." Dean smiled at them and headed around the car and got in. He reached over and squeezed the shoulder nearest him as Sam stared at the dash. "Hey, you good?"
Sam nodded and smiled over at him. His eyes were shiny but dry. "I'm ok. Really."
"Good, 'cause we're gonna eat at the local watering hole." Dean grinned at him as he backed away from the crime scene and down the road. "I have to throw a pool game and give Officer Gary back his pride. First, though, I ain't shooting pool in a monkey suit." He tugged at the lapel of his suit jacket with a grimace and got a chuckle from Sam as he drove.
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Dean sat on the edge of his bed to pull his boots on and scratched absently at his ankle as Sam came out of the bathroom.
"Dude?" Sam scratched at his hip under his shirt. "I think something's been chewing on me." He stared at Dean scratching at his ankle and his eyes widened. "You too?"
"Dean looked down at his ankle with a frown. He brought his foot up over his knee and pulled the leg of his jeans back. There was a ring of small, red bites around his ankle. "What the hell is that?" He stood and went to Sam. "Lemme see." Dean pulled Sam's shirt up and found matching marks on his hip.
Sam looked over at the beds and groaned. "Oh man."
"What?" Dean followed him as Sam went to the bed and flipped the blanket and sheet back.
"Please let me be wrong," Sam muttered and pulled them all the way off to the foot of the bed. He let them fall in a pile on the floor and shuddered. "Fleas." Small black bugs moved against the white sheet. There were only a dozen or so but it was enough to make his skin crawl.
"Oh HELL no," Dean growled. "Get your gear. We are outta here."
"Think I preferred the demonic desk clerk to this." Sam shook his head and quickly packed up the few things he had. It took them only moments and they were heading outside. He tossed his bag in the trunk alongside Dean's.
"Man if my baby gets friggin fleas…" Dean stated darkly.
Sam watched him stalk off to the office and chuckled, then bent to attack his own ankle and the itching there. By the time Dean came back, he'd searched himself and found numerous bites but no fleas, thank goodness. "What'd the clerk say?" he asked as he slid into the car beside his brother.
Dean snarled. "Told me it was all in my head."
"And?" Sam asked, knowing from his face there was more to it.
"I offered to take him to our room and shove his face into the damn bed." Dean smiled then as he pulled away from the motel. "He gave us our money back."
Sam chuckled and then sighed, renewing his itching. "I can feel my skin crawling."
"Don't talk about it dammit," Dean cussed and bent, trying to scratch at his ankle as he drove.
A half hour later they were in a new motel and a new room and relieved enough to find it bug free to not mind the questionable décor of the room. The Boone lodge motel boasted rooms with handmade, garish quilts on the beds, faded wood paneling and art school looking paintings of Daniel Boone covering the walls. It was a little disconcerting, as though Boone was looking down on them wherever they went. There was even a painting of him in the bathroom which Dean had pulled it off the wall and shoved it in a closet, commenting that he didn't need a picture of a dead guy watching him take a leak.
They had changed, slathered themselves in the motel's cheap lotion to stop the itching, and hauled ass to the bar, arriving in time to see Officer Gary Preston heading in. Several hours later, Dean had won a game, thrown a game, and was in the process of expertly pretending to lose another while Sam sat at a table off to the side. Sam divided his attention between watching his brother shoot pool, laugh with Gary, and flirt with the blond who'd attached herself to him and his own companion. She wore short, flirty brown hair with whiskey brown eyes and tapped Sam's beer with her own to draw his attention back once more.
"So is he winning, Sam?"
Sam smiled over at her and didn't mind the warm hand that rubbed along his back. He shook his head. "Nope. He's losing." He chuckled and drank from his bottle. "So what is it you do again, Laura?"
Laura laughed softly and put her face next to his ear. "I spend my days off in bars looking for delicious men to lose myself in for a few hours." She nipped lightly at the lobe of his ear, enjoying the shiver she felt under her hand. "You are definitely delicious, Sam."
Sam sucked in a breath and looked up as a round of cheers came from the pool table. Dean was shaking hands with Gary and handing over a handful of cash with a smile. He nodded when his brother looked over at him and grinned.
"We should go somewhere with less of a crowd." Laura whispered in his ear and pressed up against his side.
"Oh, I, uh…" Sam stuttered and looked down at her warm eyes. "I don't…"
"Honey, if you let him talk, you'll end up alone." Dean's voice broke in, and Sam looked up in surprise to find him next to the table with another grin in place. Dean leaned and down fixed Sam with a stern glare. "Dude, just do it. You can't be celibate forever and, man, you need to relieve some damn stress." Dean chuckled and Sam glared back at him while he reddened. "It's ok to feel good once in a while, Sammy." He raised his beer to his brother and then let the blonde on his arm pull him away toward the back of the bar.
"Celibate?" Laura purred in his ear and lowered her head to nip at his neck. "You're not a monk are you?"
"Uh, no," Sam worked to relieve the flush in his cheeks and shook his head.
"Prove it, Sam." Laura pulled his beer form his hand and set it beside her own. "Your brother's right. A little good sex can fix a lot of things." She tugged him to his feet, enjoying the almost virgin tentativeness he was showing. "Trust me, I'm more than good."
Sam let Laura pull him away from the table. He sent a look over his shoulder but couldn't see his brother anymore and sighed. He was just buzzed enough to not fight her as she led him out of the bar. "Where are we going?"
Laura smiled and pulled him through the night air and around the side of the bar to a large, black SUV with tinted windows parked against the wall and away from prying eyes. She took out her keys and unlocked the back door. She turned and pulled him in against her in the open door. "I don't want a relationship." She stretched onto her toes to feather kisses along his jaw. "Don't even want the night." Laura ran a hand down his back and cupped it around his ass, pulling him in harder. "Just right now, Sam. Come play with me?"
Sam shivered under her hands and finally felt the tension melt away to be replaced by another, much more pleasurable sensation. He smiled and took her hips in his hands. "Ok." He lifted her up suddenly, smirking when she squealed softly, and put her onto the seat.
"Get in here." Laura shivered with the strength of him as he climbed and picked her up again while he sat, landing her in his lap. She straddled him and reached out to pull the door shut.
Sam ran his hands up her thighs, under her little skirt to her hips and groaned. "Holy crap." She wasn't wearing any underwear.
Laura laughed and shifted, moving against him. She pushed his jacket off his shoulders and quickly tugged his shirts over his head before capturing his mouth with her own. She moaned happily as she ran her hands over his sculpted chest. "Good lord, Sam."
Sam growled into her mouth, bit at her lower lip, and made quick work of the buttons on her blouse. He felt her hands at the waist of his jeans and leaned back to give her room. He groaned again as she bit and nipped along his neck. He grunted as pleasure washed over him, her fingers finding their way into his jeans and pulling him free.
"Oh, I knew it," Laura moaned and grinned while she squeezed him with her hand, making him throw his head back on a gasp. "I want this." She grazed her teeth on his chin as she twisted her hand just so and earned another moan from him. "Now."
Sam's head was filled with the buzzing of pleasure as she worked him with an expert hand. He dipped a hand between her legs and held her up with his other arm when she arched back on a soft cry. "Hold on to me." Sam took her hips again and lifted her, then lowered her down. He captured her lips and swallowed the cry of pleasure, mixing it with his own, and let the feel of her around him, hot and wet, wash away the last few days in a tidal wave of pleasure.
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Dean laughed as Krysta pushed him into the ladies' room and then turned, locking the door before she jumped up into his arms and dove into his mouth. "Got a motel room, you know," Dean muttered against her lips and then moved down to her neck. "Or a car outside," He chuckled as she tightened her grip around his neck. "Someone's gonna hear us in here."
"Good," Krysta moaned as Dean unbuttoned her slacks and pushed them down, letting them fall to the floor. She pulled her own shirt over her head and leaned into him as he deftly unhooked her bra and then dove down to her chest, laving the exposed skin with his tongue. "Oh, hell, yes."
Dean growled against her chest as he ran his tongue around her full, firm breasts while they heaved beneath him and grinned. He let his hands roam down to cup beneath her rear while she unzipped him and shoved the denim down below his hips.
Krysta moaned and her eyes fell closed as when she looked and slid a hand over the hard length of him. "Oh, honey. God was kind."
Dean chuckled. "You have no idea." He tightened his grip below her ass and grinned. "But you're about to find out." He lifted her up in one motion, pinned her back to the wall as her legs wrapped around his waist, and slid into her.
"Oh YES!" Krysta cried out and felt her eyes rolling back in her head as he moved with powerful thrusts against her.
Dean dropped his head to her neck and bit along her collar-bone. He took one of her legs and pulled it up, propping it on his shoulder to sharpen the angle and groaned as her cries grew louder and his own head began to swim with pleasure.
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Sam lay spent, propped up across the backseat of Laura's SUV with her curled on top of him as they both fought to regain their breath. He grinned as she traced light fingers along his bare chest down to his hip. "Thank you."
"Oh, no, big man. Thank you." Laura said breathlessly and sat up, indulging herself by running her fingers through his mop of dark hair. "I think that's the first time anyone's ever made me pass out."
Sam chuckled. "You didn't pass out…much."
Laura laughed and leaned down to plant a chaste kiss on his nose. "Close enough, lover." She enjoyed the feeling of her legs, as though they'd gone to jelly on her, and tugged her blouse up from the floor, pulling it on. "Sure do hope I run into you again someday."
Sam smiled, pleased with her and himself, and pulled his jeans back up to fasten them before he sat up and looked for his shirts.
"Front seat," Laura said with a laugh, and reached over them to come back with his shirts and handed them to him.
They dressed themselves, exchanging laughing kisses and caresses, and finally Sam stood and waved as she pulled away. He smiled and took a deep breath. There was something to be said for Dean's way of doing things sometimes, he thought. Sam twitched his shirts into place and headed back around the front of the bar. The door opened, and he watched Dean come out with a satisfied smile in place and a swagger in his step….or more of a swagger than usual.
"Dude!" Dean grinned, catching sight of his brother. He walked over and studied his face. His grin grew. "You got your pipes cleaned but good."
"Aw, come on!" Sam groaned, feeling his face redden.
Dean chuckled. "Yep. Knew it. Good boy." He slapped Sam's shoulder and laughed as his hand was batted away.
"Dude, you suck." Sam rolled his eyes and followed him down the sidewalk toward the car.
"Not according to Carrie…no wait, Krysta," Dean nodded happily.
"Hey, asshole!"
Dean turned and looked back with the shout and frowned as a large, leather-clad man with a dark beard stalked out of the bar toward him. "What?" He groaned as Krysta came out on the man's heels and took hold of the back of his leather vest. "Well, this isn't gonna be good."
"You banged my wife in the damn bathroom?" The man stomped over to Dean and Sam and cracked his knuckles. He was maybe six feet tall but built like a line-backer.
"Whoa. Wife?" Dean threw his hands up and looked around the man's shoulder to Krysta whose hair was still in disarray from his attentions. "Seriously? You're friggin' married?"
"Baby, you know what the judge said!" Krysta pulled at her husband. "Baby, come on, it didn't mean anything!"
Dean watched as her "Baby" advanced on him menacingly. "Look, man, I had no idea. I swear I wouldn't have touched her if…"
"You banged my girl." The man rolled his shoulders to loosen them. "I bang you."
"Ok, you know that just sounded wrong, and I'm flattered and all, but…" Dean chuckled and backed up a step with a smirk.
"Uh, Dean…" Sam put a hand on his shoulder to warn him.
"Baby, stop!" Krysta cried out and stepped between them, slapping her hands to her husband's chest.
Dean, like Sam, was reaching for the woman to move her out of harm's way so neither saw him reach into his back pocket.
Dean grunted in surprise as the man's hand darted out around Krysta and something hard hit his chest. He cried out as an electric current suddenly jolted through him and felt his eyes rolling into his head as he dropped while Krysta screamed.
Sam fell back from Dean with a short cry as a shock of electricity crossed from his brother's shoulder into his hand. "Shit!" He watched the woman's husband ride Dean down to the ground, keeping the Taser in contact the whole time while Dean's body twitched and he saw red. Sam shouted in anger and lunged. He tackled the man from his brother, rolling them both to the side and landed a solid punch to the bearded face, then reached down, wrenched the Taser free and jammed it into the biker's stomach. Sam watched him jerk and cry out for a few seconds and then threw the thing away.
"Touch my brother again and I'll put that little toy somewhere more effective," Sam warned and stood. Krysta gave a scream and dropped to her husband's side. Sam ignored her and went to his brother. "Dean?" Sam pulled him up and frowned when he didn't stir. He put a hand to his neck and relaxed slightly as he felt his heart beating strongly. "Ok. Ok." Sam looked up and decided they needed to get out of there before someone called the police.
Krysta's cries followed Sam as he pulled his brother up and dragged him over to the Impala. He opened the back door and slid Dean in across the seat. Sam closed the door and ran around to the driver's side. "Dammit." He leaned over the back seat and fumbled, getting the keys out of Dean's front pocket before turning back and quickly got them moving away from the bar as the first siren sounded in the distance. Sam forced himself to keep to the speed limit back to the motel so as not to draw attention and kept one eye on the rearview mirror and Dean's pale face.
He parked outside their room and quickly got out, opening the back door and slid his arms under Dean's shoulders. Sam pulled him out so he was sitting on the seat propped up against his chest. He wrapped his arms around him to pull him out.
"S'mmy?" Dean's voice was slurred and tired.
"Dean?" Sam smiled and moved slightly so he could see his brother's face. Relief flowed through him now that Dean was awake, or trying to be.
"Why we cuddlin'?" Dean struggled to open his eyes and peer up at his brother, then groaned. "Wha' the hell hit me?"
"Krysta's husband. He tased you." Sam took hold of him again and dragged him off the seat, standing Dean up and holding on as he threatened to go back down.
Dean shook his head to knock loose the cobwebs and grinned ruefully. "I'd say no more bathroom sex, but…damn. Was worth it."
Sam chuckled. "You're such a man-ho. Come on." He half-carried Dean to the room and inside as he got his legs under him again. When he went to sit on the bed, Sam stopped him. "No. No just, hang on." He leaned his brother against the wall by the door and grabbed Dean's bag from the foot of the bed.
"Dude, what the hell?" Dean watched Sam take his bag into the bathroom and come back out. "Why does my bag need to be in the bathroom?"
Sam took his arm and got him moving again. "Because you uh…tased unconscious, remember? Your head still foggy?"
Dean nodded, confused, and then, as they reached the door of the bathroom, it struck him as a peculiar feeling made itself known. He looked down and growled. "Son of a BITCH!" He shoved free of Sam when he chuckled and went into the bathroom, slamming the door shut while his face burned with embarrassment. He'd pissed himself thanks to all the voltage coursing through him.
Sam gave up and bent over laughing as Dean's string of profanity continued loud and long in the bathroom. "It's a perfectly…" Sam wheezed and rubbed a hand over his face. "…perfectly normal reaction, Dean."
"Shut up, Sam!" Dean shouted from behind the door. "Not helping!"
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"Dude, I swear, you laugh one more time…" Dean left the sentence hanging and glared over at his brother as they walked. They were loaded for bear and searching the local woods for the site of the creature's first attack, and Sam had yet to stop letting out the occasional snicker.
"Sorry. Sorry." Sam shook his head, still smiling and put an extra arm length between them, anticipating a slap to the head. He played his flashlight up into the trees, alert for any sign of Birdzilla, as Dean had taken to calling the creature.
"Wait, you hear that?" Dean brought an arm up to stop him and listened. The sound of voices carried on the night breeze through the trees and he scowled. "Dude, they sound like…"
"Kids," Sam finished, and started walking again at a much faster pace. "What the hell are kids doing out here this time of night?" He broke into a jog with Dean beside him, following the sound of the young voices calling out. "What are they saying?"
"I dunno." Dean paced beside him, dodging through and around trees and skidded to a stop in a large clearing. Two young boys were dashing back and forth across the open space, shouting.
"Stripes! Stripes come'ere!" The taller of the two boys called and then turned, seeing Sam and Dean, and froze with wide eyes. "Uh-oh." He scrambled over to the smaller boy and tugged him quickly behind him in a gesture Dean recognized all too well. "Joey, shuddup."
"What's'it, Jake?" Joey peered out from behind his arm. "Who're they?"
"What are you kids doing out here? Where are your parents?" Sam held his shotgun behind his leg and smiled, trying to put them at ease. "It's not safe out here, you know."
"Duh, we know that." Jake scowled up at Sam and had to lean back to see his face.
Dean chuckled at the tone of voice the kid used. The oldest was no older than ten while the younger looked vaguely like Sam had at seven; too short with a baby face and ridiculous shaggy hair. "I'm Dean. This is my little brother, Sammy."
"Sam," Sam corrected in a tired voice and rolled his eyes.
Dean grinned when the boys laughed and Joey peeked out behind the other boy again. "He's your little brother?" Joey asked and looked up at Sam in surprise. "But he's, like, giant sized!"
"Oh, man." Sam ran a hand over his face as Dean started laughing.
Dean knelt to be on eye level with the boy and nodded. "Little dude, you watch, one of these days, your big brother's gonna be looking up at you."
"Will not." Jake reached behind him and snagged Joey in a headlock. "He's a midget." He still kept his brother behind him and looked at Dean's green eyes seriously. "We don't know you. You shouldn't be talking to us."
Dean nodded. "Yeah, you're not wrong, but we're out here to catch the thing that's been hurting people."
"Bear's gonna eat my kitty!" Joey said suddenly in a scared voice. "We gotta find Stripes, Jake, please?"
"Wait. You're out here after a cat?" Dean rocked back on his heels and shook his head. "Look you can find the cat tomorrow with your parents."
"Don't have none," Joey wriggled out of his brother's arm to look at Dean. "We got foster parents. They're mean."
"They're not mean, runt." Jake rolled his eyes.
"They don't wanna let me keep Stripes." Joey said fiercely. "They're mean."
"Oh, they'll let you keep the stupid cat. All you gotta do is give that look to Patty." Joey snorted. "She can't say no to Joey's look."
Dean smirked and glanced over at his own brother. "I know the feeling. It's a little brother thing."
"Shut up, Dean." Sam glared at him even as he felt his face begin to burn. "I do not have a look."
"Dude, you so do." Dean leaned in, as if conferring a confidence with the two boys. "Sammy's got this puppy dog eye thing that makes everybody's mother melt."
The boys laughed and smiled up at Sam who threw his hands out in the air and stalked away. He heard a rustling in a bush ahead of him and slowed. Sam went cautiously to it, raising his gun as he peered around it and then smirked. "Hey, boys." He bent down and stuck a hand into the underbrush, coming out with an orange and white striped kitten that instantly began to purr. "I think I found your missing kitten."
"Stripes!" Joey exclaimed and dashed across the clearing to Sam. He eagerly took the little kitten and cuddled her close up under his chin with a happy giggle. "Jake, look!"
Sam watched him and smiled. His smile turned to a gasp as pain suddenly lanced into his head. He wrapped his hands around it and heard his brother call his name as he dropped to his knees. Sam heard himself moan with the agony, and then the clearing, the boys, and his brother were swept away in a wash of color and sound. His vision tunneled in and the fuzzy, indistinct image of a person appeared. He couldn't clearly see it, but he could hear the voice. A woman spoke softly, muttering words he didn't understand. The vision changed and spun, making his stomach churn with the sensation of falling, and then he was high in the sky. Sam could still hear the woman's voice and, below him, saw the form of the creature gliding through the night sky. The voice rose in volume and, below the creature, a clearing appeared. Within it, Sam saw the two brothers, Jake and Joey and beyond them Dean and himself on their knees. The creature gave a short, angry cry and dipped into a dive. It aimed not for him or Dean but for the children, and Sam would have screamed to warn them if he could as the vision spun into blackness around him.
"Sam?" Dean stood as he saw his brother hunch over and wrap his hands around his head, his eyes squeezing shut in obvious pain. "Shit. Sammy?" Dean ran to him and caught him as he swayed and his knees buckled. He went to the ground with him and held on to his shoulders as Sam groaned.
"Is he alright?" Jake came over with his brother and both boys stared.
"Yeah, he's fine. Just a headache." Dean kept his attention on his brother, whose eyes had opened and were now staring in that terrible, vacant way that Dean hated so much - the vacant stare of a vision overwhelming him. "Come on, Sammy." Sam wasn't breathing. He seemed to be holding his breath, but Dean could feel his pulse galloping beneath the hand he put to his neck.
"Doesn't look fine." Jake pulled his brother closer. "Why's he staring like that?"
"Don't worry about it. Sam?" Dean gave him a shake and was rewarded as Sam suddenly sucked in a breath and his eyes closed again. "Hey. Sammy. Talk to me." Dean held him up when he tried to curl forward in a ball. "Hey, you're kinda freakin' the kids out here, little brother." He didn't mention his own worry. Every time Sam had one of his visions, Dean's heart jumped into his throat and threatened to choke him with fear until the moment his brother came back again.
Dean turned to the kids. "You kids should head home now. Go on."
"Yeah, uh, ok." Jake wrapped an arm around his little brother and the kitten and turned away. "Thanks, dude."
Dean nodded and put his attention back on his own little brother who was gasping in air and had a steely grip on Dean's arms. "Hey. Slow it down, Sam. Breathe."
Sam nodded as Dean's voice broke through his heart thundering in his ears. He struggled against the confusion in his head and looked up, a sense of foreboding filling him. "Dean." He glanced around the clearing and saw the boys walking away. "Oh, God. It's coming!"
"What? Sammy, what'd you see?" Dean kept him steady as Sam lumbered to his feet. "Whoa, dude, what's going on?"
Sam pulled himself free and started toward the boys. "It's coming for them. It's coming now." He couldn't shake the feeling that he would be too late.
"Shit, Birdzilla?" Dean looked up into the night sky and flinched in surprise as something huge and dark moved to blot out the stars above as it dove toward them. He looked back and saw Sam had outpaced him, sprinting to Jake and Joey.
"Get down!" Sam shouted as he neared. He leaned forward as he reached them and pushed both boys down into the long grasses as his vision played back in his head.
"Sam!" Dean yelled, and was knocked to the ground by a powerful force in his back. He rolled to a stop in the grass and picked his swimming head up at the sound of a sharp cry from his brother. The creature had Sam in its grasp and vanished over the treetops with him. "No!" Dean wanted to get up and run after him, but his head had other ideas and fell back into the grass with a thump as the world went dark around him.
Dean woke to the sensation of being shaken. "Knock it off, Sammy," He grumbled.
"Mister? Please wake up!"
Dean's eyes shot open at the sound of Jake's voice. Both boys were huddled next to him and the memory of Sam being carried away drove him off the ground. "Where is he? How long have I been out?" He groaned as his back protested the movement and hunched over his knees where he sat.
"Just a minute." Jake pulled his little brother in to his shoulder with a fearful look on his face. "Not even."
"Did you see…" Dean broke off as the sound of muffled gunshots echoed through the trees. He jerked to his feet, ignoring the pain in his back. He ran a few steps and then stopped to look back. "Shit. Ok." He went to the boys and pulled them both up. "You need to get out of here. I promise that thing's not gonna come after you."
"You mean alone?" Joey asked in a small voice and huddled closer to his big brother.
"You know the way home?" Dean looked to the older of the two and smiled when he nodded. "Good. You go as fast as you can and I promise you'll be safe. Me and Sammy? We're gonna take care of it." He squeezed Jake's shoulder. "And stay the hell outta these woods from now on. Go!"
Dean watched them scurry off into the trees and then broke into a run toward where the shots had come from. "Hang on, Sam."
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Sam twisted, trying to free himself from the painful grip of the claws digging in to his right shoulder as they rose up and just skimmed the tops of the trees. In a panic, he managed to get his left hand behind him and pulled his Taurus from his belt. He needed to get loose before they got any higher, he knew, and awkwardly aimed the gun over his shoulder and up toward the creature's unprotected belly. He fired three shots that rang in his own ears even as the creature screamed. It faltered. It's claws tightened once, agonizingly, and then Sam was falling.
He was only a few feet above the tops of the trees and crashed through the canopy. Sam flung his hands out to try and catch any branch as he fell. He lost his gun as he tumbled and after what seemed forever, hit the ground in a heap and rolled several feet.
"Crap," Sam gasped. He lay still, afraid to move as a myriad of pains began to burn along his arms and legs, back and chest. His right shoulder was a misery. He could feel something warm and wet trickling beneath his shirt and hoped the bird thing's claws hadn't done too much damage.
A rustling sound came from above Sam and he froze, staring up into the darkened trees. The sound grew louder and was joined with a growling sort of roar as the boughs above him began to move.
"Oh, come on," Sam groaned and pushed up on his elbows. He looked frantically around for any sign of his gun, but without a flashlight, he'd never see it in the dim light. Instead, he saw a massive old hollow tree toppled on its side nearby. It was the closest thing to cover he was going to find. "Move, Sam," He told himself. Sam rolled to his hands and knees. He tried to get to his feet and ended up holding himself up on his arms with a moan as his back refused to straighten. The noise above him became more insistent, and he crawled for the old tree as fast as he could.
Sam reached the tree and turned to look back just as the creature dropped down from the trees with a scream and glared death at him. "Not good," Sam gasped. He dove inside the tree and crawled back along its length, thankful that Birdzilla was far too large to come in after him. He flinched back as something crunched beneath his hands and gasped again as things began to crawl over them. "Oh, come on! Can I get a break?"
The creature thrust its head into the end of the log, making it shift. Sam rolled with the motion and leaned back against the wall. He stared down at the massive, furred head, taking a moment to study the features and then kicked out. His foot slapped into its beak and made it rear back. Sam braced himself against the inside of the trunk and stayed still, resisting the urge to squirm as he felt things begin to crawl over his arms and legs.
Several minutes later, he heard the sound of wings flapping and the forest became silent outside. Sam considered leaving the shelter of the tree and then shook his head at himself. Birdzilla was far too intelligent to have just given up. He decided to test his theory. He pulled off one of his sneakers and threw it out of the trunk. A moment later there was a roar and the creature's shadow blocked the light as it pounced on his shoe.
"Dammit." Sam groaned and thumped back as Birdzilla took wing once more. His shoe was gone. The sensation of things crawling on him was making his skin crawl, and the sensation grew as he felt something worming into his hair. He dug his fingers in and came out with something long and wriggling. "Gah!" Sam threw it from him, but felt more. He swiped along his legs with his left arm and realized they were centipedes; hundreds of centipedes in whose home he had taken refuge. "No, no, no." They were everywhere and he felt them slide under the collar of his hoodie and t-shirt.
Sam dug his fingers beneath the cloth and tried to keep them from the burning, bleeding wounds in his shoulder. "Shit!" They were in his clothes and wriggling in his hair. He pulled at them and groaned when the bodies crushed in his grip in his hair. He wasn't generally afraid of bugs, of all thing, but being trapped in the dark, confined space with God knew how many of the creepy crawly things, this was so far beyond his comfort zone he wanted to run screaming from the tree. He lurched away from the wall and moaned as the wounds in his right shoulder pulled painfully. He could still feel blood easing oozing down his back and chest and the sensation of centipedes walking through it and tracking wetly beneath his shirts was almost more than he could take.
He didn't know how long he sat there and endured the centipedes. Sam was ready to face the creature again, even injured, alone, and unarmed rather than spend another minute covered in the insects. He pulled off his other shoe, grimacing as bugs squished beneath his fingers and tossed it out of the trunk to roll into the dim moonlight. Sam waited and hoped. Minutes passed with no sign of the creature and he sighed. He'd just have to risk it.
Sam scrambled out of the trunk as fast as his injuries would allow. His legs and back were stiffening with bruises from his bumpy fall through the trees. He emerged into the cooler air of the night and looked up, waiting for the creature to pounce on him. It didn't, and he gusted a breath out in relief. He spent several minutes frantically pulling centipedes off his clothing and out from under it. He tugged out his under shirt and shook it awkwardly with one hand, shuddering as more centipedes fell out to wriggle away on the grass. Sam got to his feet and tried not to think too hard about the pieces of centipede he was leaving in his hair as he tried to remove the hitchhikers. The guts tangled his long hair and he swallowed hard against nausea as one centipede came down across his brow and under his bangs. He slapped it away and staggered off into the trees.
"Dean?" Sam called. He wrapped his left hand around his right shoulder, frowning as he felt heat beneath the shirts. He sighed. "Guess that explains why my head's spinning," Sam muttered. He used the trees to keep him upright as he walked and tried to keep his face up to the tree tops in case the creature came back. He frowned as he saw the moonlight fading quickly. Sam watched clouds quickly obscure the sky. They were dark and, as he silently hoped it wouldn't rain, the first cold, fat raindrops began to fall and wet his face.
"Great," Sam groaned and let his head fall forward as he leaned on a tree wearily. He was too warm as he shivered with each cool drop of rainwater that ran down his neck. His vision wavered and he made himself move again. Sam hoped he was going in the right direction. He hadn't really seen anything when the creature had picked him up, too preoccupied with freeing himself before he ended up lunch. Lightning lit the sky and the trees around him, flashing in his eyes and making him moan.
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Dean stood with his face turned up to the sky as rain poured down on him and lightning flashed. "Oh, come ON!" he shouted angrily, and ducked his head against the downpour, starting forward again. "How the hell am I supposed to see Birdzilla in this crap? Sam!" Dean yelled as he trudged through the trees, slipping as the ground quickly turned to mud. "Sammy!" He went to his knees and climbed back to his feet, grimacing at the mud that clung to him. "Awesome."
The rain drove down making it hard to hear anything above the white noise. Dean's flashlight was next to useless as the beam was diffused in the downpour and made him nearly blind. "Sam!" He stomped forward and then pinwheeled his arms in the air as his right foot found nothing but air ahead of him. Dean tried to throw himself back but it was too late; Gravity took over and he fell to roll down the side of a hill he hadn't seen. He slid to a rest at the bottom and groaned, spitting mud, and had to wipe it out of his eyes before he could see.
Dean blinked, letting the heavy rain help clear his eyes and gasped as his brother staggered into view ahead of him. "Sammy!" He shouted and lurched to his feet. His brother didn't stop ,however. He just kept slowly walking forward with his left hand clasped over his right shoulder and his head hanging down, wet hair swaying in front of his face like a curtain. "Sam?" Dean grabbed his elbows and steadied him when he jerked back. "Hey, hey! Sam!"
"Dean?" Sam looked up and had trouble seeing in front of him between his hair, the rain, and what he was beginning to think was delirium from fever.
"Yeah. Hey, you ok?" Dean brushed the wet hair out of his brother's eyes and frowned. "How are you hot in this crap? Shit!" He exclaimed as Sam went down to his knees. Dean went with him and kept Sam from sliding to the muddy ground. "Sammy?" He put a hand to Sam's right shoulder and pulled his brother's away. Dean tugged his jacket aside and hissed in sympathy at the sight of blood. "Shit."
"S'ok," Sam muttered and closed his eyes, leaning in to the hand on the side of his neck.
"No, it's not. Birdzilla do this?" Dean eased Sam's collar from his neck to try and get a better look.
Sam nodded and raised his head, opening his eyes. "Put some holes in him." He chuckled softly. "Pissed it off." He looked over Dean's shoulder, and his eyes widened as two eyes glowed out through the rain from the trees on the hill beyond them. He saw the creature move forward and reacted in a panic. Sam lunged forward and slammed Dean back into the ground as Birdzilla appeared and sailed through the space they had just occupied and then soared up into the rain and out of sight.
"Dean? Dean!" Sam rolled off his brother to the side and tapped his face a couple times.
"Knock it off." Dean knocked Sam's hand away while his head spun. He'd landed on something hard, probably a rock with his luck, and the back of his head was pounding. "What'd you do that for?"
"Birdzilla." Sam let his head drop forward as the adrenaline washed out of his system and exhaustion took over again. "Sorry."
"What?" Dean frowned and pushed up on his elbows until he was sitting. He ran his fingers back through his hair and couldn't tell if it was mud or blood he felt. "What for?"
"Didn't mean to hurt you." Sam said softly.
"Dude, I'd be bird food if you hadn't knocked me on my ass," Dean snorted a laugh and took his brother's good arm. "Come on. Gotta get you outta here."
Sam struggled to his feet with his brother's help and then clamped his hands onto Dean's arm. "The boys! Are they alright?"
"Yeah, Sammy. They're fine." Dean shook his head, got a grip around his brother's waist and started pulling him up the hill he had fallen down. He looked up and around the trees and spat rainwater as it flooded his face.
"Gonna need…holy water," Sam mumbled as he trudged up the hill.
"Yeah." Dean tightened his grip on his brother, easily feeling the unnatural fever heat coursing through him. There had most certainly been something on Birdzilla's claws that shouldn't be. "Here we go. Easy, buddy." Dean half pulled, half carried Sam up and over the top of the hill. The trees were thicker there and lessened the rain pouring down on them.
"Sucks," Sam stumbled and fought to keep his legs under him while his head swam and his shoulder burned. The pains from the bruising in his arms and legs had long fallen into the background, and he didn't relish the thought of what they'd look like later.
Dean chuckled. "Yeah, it does. Dude, you weigh too much."
"Shuddup," Sam grumbled and took some of his own weight back as they walked. "Lost my gun." He looked over and scowled at the amused look on his big brother's face. "Shot Birdzilla though. Pissed him off."
"Remind me to buy that bird a beer." Dean laughed and kept his hold on Sam when he tried to hit him and swayed. "What? You piss me off all the time. I can sympathize."
"Such a jerk."
"Suck it up, bitch." Dean grinned and kept them moving, teasing Sam every couple minutes to keep him lucid. The heat he felt coming off him in spite of the rain was worrying him, and he dearly wanted to get a good look at the wounds in his right shoulder; Sam had yet to do more than curl the arm into his stomach.
The walk back seemed longer than it should have been. They were both drenched through by the time they reached the car. In spite of the chill from the rain, Dean cranked the air conditioner to try and cool his cooking brother, all the while grumbling about the mud they were getting all over his seats. After the look Dean had gotten at Sam's shoulder in the car, he bypassed the motel and headed straight for the nearest hospital. He was fairly sure one of the creature's claws had punctured a muscle. He drove with one hand on Sam's chest to keep him from curling forward into the dash. Sam muttered occasionally, usually Jess' name or Dean's, and it spurred Dean to drive faster.
The hospital was small, little more than a glorified clinic, and Dean screeched the car to a stop outside the emergency door. He dashed around the car and pulled Sam out, unresisting. "Come on, little brother. Almost there."
"Where?" Sam managed to get his head up but couldn't make his blurred vision make sense of anything.
"Hospital. Don't argue," Dean ordered and lugged him through the open doors and into the waiting room. "Can I get some help here?" He shouted and breathed in relief as several nurses converged on them. He let them pull Sam from his arm and lay him out on a gurney. He balked at being left in the waiting room, but they refused to let him back until they'd had time to assess his brother.
"Can you tell us what happened?" A nurse asked as she handed him a clipboard with forms and a pen.
"Uh, bear. We were hunting in the woods." Dean scrubbed a worried hand through his hair as Sam vanished through a door. "Caught us off guard."
"Alright. We'll take good care of him. Just fill these out and bring them up when you're done."
Dean nodded and dropped into an uncomfortable plastic chair with the clipboard. He wondered briefly what their Dad would say if he knew Dean had almost lost Sam to the damn creature. He shook his head and pushed that thought away. Time for guilt later, and he bent to the forms with a groan of frustration. "I hate these things."
An hour later, having tried to clean up a little bit as best he could in the restroom, Dean leaned back in his same chair with nothing better to do than watch people come and go, nurses on their rounds and the occasional doctor. He watched one man coming back from the cafeteria with a tray of food and idly considered seeing if they had any decent coffee. He smirked when the man tripped, spilling his tray across the floor. A salt shaker dropped to shatter across the tile floor, white crystals spreading out in a spray. Dean lurched forward intently as one of the nurses nimbly danced back from the salt with a look of something close to fear on her face before she went around it and vanished again.
"Son of a bitch," Dean muttered. There was only reason someone evaded contact with the purifying properties of salt in his world, and he didn't believe in coincidences. Something hinkey was definitely going on. He stood and went to the desk, senses now on high alert.
"Can I help you?" The nurse looked up to him with a bored smile.
"Yeah, you can tell me where my brother is." Dean leaned his elbows on the desk to get an unobtrusive closer look at her. He wrinkled his nose while she checked her screen and leaned back quickly as the cold chill of fear wormed through him. He smelled sulfur.
"Treatment room twelve." The nurse looked back up and smiled again, waving an arm toward the double doors. "I'll have someone come get you when…"
"I'll find it," Dean cut her off, and strode to the doors over her protests. He pushed through into the hall beyond, needing to find his brother. They were in danger; Sam was in danger, and Dean had left him unprotected. He stalked down the hall, eyeing everyone he passed suspiciously. A voice cut above the background noise of the emergency room suddenly, and Dean broke into a run, following the sound of Sam's pain-filled shout.
"Sammy!" Dean burst into a room and slid to a stop. His brother lay shirtless on a bed, his wrists and ankles in restraints with a nurse at his shoulder. She set aside a bottle of peroxide and laid a bandage over the wounds then looked up at Dean. Her eyes slid to solid black as he watched. Dean lurched forward to grab her.
"Stay, Winchester." The nurse smiled and slid a scalpel along Sam's throat as he panted, half unconscious on the bed.
Dean caught himself on the end of the bed and glared death at her. "What the hell do you want?"
"You were supposed to stay in the waiting room."
Dean spun and growled at the doctor who came in behind him. "What the hell do demons want in a damn hospital?"
The doctor wagged a finger playfully at him as he leaned against the door, completely at ease. He blinked and his eyes turned black as well. "That's not for you to know. We aren't hurting anyone, if that's what you're worried about." He spread his hands and smiled. "We are actually doing the job of our meatsuits, and quite well, I might add."
"What?" Dean stared, surprised and took a step closer to the nurse. "Why would you even bother?"
"Nope, again, you don't get to know that. We are under orders to blend in, but…I'm betting that doesn't extend to John Winchester's sons." He gave Dean a feral smile. "And how nice of you to give yourselves over into our tender care."
"Another step and little brother will be light a few pints," the nurse warned Dean as he tried to ease closer to her again.
"If you're under orders to fit in, offing us ain't gonna help that." Dean knew they had no chance to fight their way out, not with Sam down. Talking was all he had left, and he hoped his poker face worked on demons. "You said your boss wants you to blend in. You think our dad's not gonna wonder how we got ganked in a damn hospital? You think every Hunter in a hundred mile radius isn't gonna start lookin' at this place?"
The doctor studied him for a moment and then sighed. He gave an elegant shrug and straightened from the door. "Suit yourself. I suppose we can't risk an army of you idiots raining down on us before we have a chance to…relocate." He smiled and nodded. "And we will. Fine. Take your brother and go."
The nurse straightened from Sam with an irritated sigh. "I'd go quickly if I were you." She dug her fingers into Sam's shoulder, making him moan in pain. "Before we get the urge to…play."
Dean growled angrily as she trailed the scalpel lightly down Sam's chest as she eased around the bed and away from Dean before slipping out the door. As soon as they were gone, Dean rushed to his brother's side. "Sam? Sammy! Wake up. We have got to get the hell outta Dodge."
"M'wake," Sam said and rolled his head into the hand Dean put on his neck. "Think I saw…demons?"
"Yeah. Dude, this place is General Hospital for hell spawn. Come on." Dean slid an arm behind his shoulders and lifted him up so he was sitting. "Not gonna leave us alone for long."
"Where's my shirt?" Sam looked blearily around the little room.
Dean spotted the shredded remains of his shirts in a pile on the floor. "Uh…toast. Hang on." He saw Sam's jacket hung over a stool and grabbed it. "Here." He slid it on his brother's arms and patted his back. "You ready?"
Sam nodded. "No." He smirked as Dean snorted and let him pull his legs off the bed and then stand him up.
"What happened to the fever?" Dean asked as he pulled Sam's good arm over his shoulder, noting that he felt much cooler than he had in the forest.
Sam shuddered. "Holy water. They cleansed the wounds. Think they enjoyed it."
Dean snarled as they started for the door, enraged that they had caused his brother that kind of pain and he hadn't been there, but still somewhat surprised that they had actually performed any real healing, especially on a Winchester. "Alright, just keep walking. Don't stop."
"How many are there?" Sam looked up as they went down the hall and startled to see nurses and doctors stopped in their tracks, over a dozen of them, and all staring fixedly at the brothers with jet black eyes. "Crap."
"Keep walking," Dean reminded him, and kept them moving. It was a nerve-wracking two minutes until they finally cleared the emergency room doors and stepped outside once more. He dragged Sam to the Impala and shoved him into the car then ran around and slid behind the wheel. He didn't take a breath until they were away from the hospital and gave a full body shudder. "Man, that was like being caught in a scene from Invasion of the Body Snatchers!"
Sam nodded and slid down in the seat, letting his head roll onto the back of the seat. He was exhausted between the creature, the trip through the forest, and the painful purification of the holy water.
Dean glanced at him and saw him slip into sleep with his head rolled to face him. "That was too close, dude," He said softly. Dean pulled out his cell phone and quickly dialed their father. He needed to know about the hospital. It rang several times and then went to voicemail, making Dean growled angrily until it beeped. "You know, Dad, this would have been a good time to actually pick up the damn phone. It's not like we don't know you're nearby!" He stopped and took a breath to calm himself and left a terse message informing Dad about the hospital and its demon employees.
Dean drove along the back roads, leery of the main road back into town in case they were being followed. The rain had gone from downpour to steady drizzle as the headlights cut into the night on the lonely road. He reached to turn on the radio and startled as the engine suddenly began knocking. It sputtered and died as he looked on in shock and the car coasted to a stop on the side of the road.
"Son of a bitch!" Dean exclaimed.
Sam jerked awake at the curse and looked around in concern. "Dean? What's wrong?" He looked over at his brother and frowned. Dean was just staring at the dials on the dashboard with an odd face. "Dean?"
"We're, uh…we're out of gas," Dean informed him and felt a blush crawl up his face. "How the hell is my baby out of gas?"
Sam eased himself back up in the seat. "Demons?" He peered out into the rainy night ahead and behind them but saw nothing. "Maybe they were hoping to catch us on the road."
"Well, now I'm glad I went the back way. Dammit!" Dean slapped a hand against the steering wheel.
"Hey." Sam touched his arm and pointed off to their left. "There's a house. Lights are on. Go on. Get help. I'll be fine."
Dean glared over at him as Sam started to slide back down the seat. "No way, dude. You're coming. You think I'm leaving you out here alone with a demon posse breathing down our necks?"
"Probably don't even know where we are," Sam said and closed his eyes.
"Nope." Dean shut off the car and got out. He went to the trunk, opened it and took out a spare handgun then slapped it shut and went around to the passenger door. He opened it and bent down to his brother. "Time to go." He had to pull Sam out, careful of his right shoulder. "Here."
Sam took the gun Dean handed him and slid it behind his back, shivering as cold metal touched his bare back. "Need a shirt."
"It can wait. Move." Dean tugged him into motion and kept a constant watch on the road behind them as they crossed the tended field toward the house. They stumbled up the steps of the front porch, and, as they did, the light above them glowed to life and the front door opened to reveal an elderly woman with a halo of silver hair and kindly blue eyes.
"Oh, my goodness," She exclaimed in surprise.
"Uh, hi." Dean smiled at her and tried to put her at ease. "Our car ran out of gas over there and we were hoping maybe you had some to spare somewhere."
"Oh you poor things. Come in! Come in!" She opened the door wide. "Let old Sylvie take care of you. Is he alright?" She stepped forward fearlessly and looked up into Sam's weary hazel eyes.
"Yeah, he's fine. Just lazy." Dean smirked and watched Sam roll his eyes.
"Come on then, get inside." Sylvie shooed the men into her house and steered them to her living room. "Put him on the couch there. What happened to you, sweetie?"
Sam could only watch, bemused, as Sylvie descended on him. In moments she had him out of his jacket, Dean shoved into a chair with his feet up by the cheery fire, and was tutting over Sam's shoulder. "I'm alright. Really." Sam smiled up at her.
Sylvie snorted and waved a hand. "Look like a bear's chewtoy, son. Sit still while I get some coffee on and food sorted. What's your name?"
"He's Sam. I'm Dean." Dean stood and pulled his damp jacket off. "Let me help?"
"What am I? Old? I can handle two boys on my own. Now sit back down and warm up before you freeze up." Sylvie planted her fists on her hips and stared at him until Dean dropped back into the chair with a lop-sided grin.
"Yes, ma'am." Dean chuckled as she left the room.
"What just happened?" Sam asked with a small laugh and leaned back into the comfortable cushions. He tugged the afghan off the back of the couch and pulled it over his chest, uncomfortable being shirtless around the woman.
"Dude, I don't know." Dean shook his head and then frowned as Sam's head dropped back on a soft groan. "Hey." Dean was up and at his side. "You alright?" He leaned over and carefully peeled back the edge of the bandage on the front of Sam's shoulder.
"Yeah…just tired." Sam flinched as the tape pulled the wounds.
"Damn," Dean groaned. The marks looked painful as hell, and two stitches in the meat of his shoulder had been popped, probably when demon nurse had dug in her fingers. "Gotta fix this."
"Awesome," Sam rolled his eyes, making Dean smirk.
"I'm gonna run out to the car." Dean fixed Sam with a look and waited.
Sam rolled his eyes again and shifted slightly so he could pull the gun from his back with his left hand and slid it under the couch cushion beside him. "Yes, mom. I'll be fine for two minutes with the harmless old lady."
"Who says I'm harmless?" Sylvie asked with a laugh as she came back in with a tray. She hooked a stool with her foot and dragged it over beside Dean, then set the tray down. "I figure you'll be needing this." She pulled the towel off the tray revealing two cups of coffee and a suture kit. "Or do you need me to fix those two stitches?"
"Huh?" Dean looked up at her in surprise.
Sylvie chuckled and patted his shoulder. "Son, I've been around a long time. I reckon I can re-sew a couple stitches as well as you can." She enjoyed the looks on both their faces as she sat on the edge of the couch at Sam's hip and picked up his much larger hand in her own. Something about the two of them had shouted at her the moment she'd seen them, bedraggled and near falling down and so suspicious of even little old her. They needed caring for, and that was something she could do. "You can have your coffee after and I've got pot pies in the oven."
Dean shook his head, grinned and nodded. "Sylvie, you're alright."
Sam tried to rescue his hand but she held on tight and he huffed out a breath. "Thank you, Sylvie."
"You just give me a squeeze if you need to while your brother's fixing your shoulder." Sylvie let out a hearty, beautiful laugh when both men startled. "Oh please, you don't have to be my age to see it and hear it. Of course your brothers." She looked between them and smirked at Dean. "You're obviously the older."
"Lemme guess, you can sense how irritating Sammy here is?" Dean asked with a laugh.
Sam snorted softly and rolled his head to look at Dean. "Dude, it's the wrinkles around your eyes."
"I don't have wrinkles, you little…" Dean didn't finish it, with a quick look at Sylvie as she laughed again but swatted the side of Sam's head instead. "Shut up or I'll stitch your elbow to your nose."
Sylvie smiled and watched as Dean set to work on his brother's shoulder. She kept her hold of Sam's hand, returning every squeeze when he flinched as Dean worked. He had his eyes shut tight and her heart melted a little when Dean finished, set his hand on the side of his brother's head and Sam turned into it for comfort. She thought it had to have been a very long time since these boys had anyone but each other.
"He's mostly out now. You can let go," Dean told her softly. He stood and stretched then grabbed a cup of coffee and settled in the chair beside the couch. Dean studied her for a moment. "How come you let us in? I mean, it's the middle of the night. We're a mess. We could be axe murderers or something."
Sylvie chuckled and pulled her hand free of Sam's with a last pat. She took the other cup of coffee and shrugged. "When you get to be my age, you don't worry so much about things anymore. Besides, one look at you boys is enough to know you're not evil." She smirked at his snort. "Do you need to call anyone? Your mother maybe?" She was prying, she knew, but couldn't help herself.
Dean's face fell into a frown and he looked over at his brother. "Our mom's gone…long time now."
Sylvie nodded, seeing that he wasn't going to say more. "I'm sorry, honey." She stood and patted his knee. "You get comfie. I'll go check on those pot pies." She bustled off into the kitchen and gave the boys some time to themselves. She cleaned the coffee pot, checked her pies and took them out to cool, did a few dishes and then stuck her head into the living room. Sam was still out and Dean had fallen asleep sitting up with his coffee mug perched precariously on his knee. She smirked and stole silently into the room and rescued the cup from his fingers. Poor boy was just as exhausted as his brother. She took another quilt from the back of the couch and gently folded it over Dean with a warm smile before taking herself off to bed. The pot pies would keep.
Dean woke confused, unsure where he was and why he was so warm. He blinked his eyes open and then relaxed, remembering Sylvie and her happy mothering. He looked down and smiled at the quilt spread carefully over him and then scowled at himself for not being alert enough to wake when she'd been that close. He glanced over at the couch and his scowl turned to a worried frown as Sam shifted and moaned.
"Crap." Dean untangled himself from the quilt and went to sit beside his brother as he began to thrash while tears escaped his closed eyes. "Sammy." Dean took his good shoulder and gave him a shake. "Wake up, kiddo."
"Jess." Sam mumbled in his sleep and Dean's heart broke a little, as it always did.
"Come on, Sam. Wake up now." Dean ran a hand over his brow, relieved at least to not feel a fever burning there. Sam lurched up suddenly, shouting Jess' name as his eyes flew wide. "Whoa!" Dean caught his arms and held him steady while Sam heaved for air.
Sam gasped as the dream came back to him and he took hold of the front of his brother's shirt reflexively. He knew he was still crying and couldn't seem to stop it. His shoulder screamed pain at him from being moved and he gave in. Sam let his head fall forward onto Dean's shoulder and he let the tears fall. "Sorry. Sorry."
"Easy, Sammy. It's ok," Dean soothed and, in spite of his aversion to chick flick moments, gave his brother what he needed. Dean wrapped his arms around him, careful of his wounded shoulder and held on, letting him cry. "I know, buddy."
"She's gone," Sam whispered, heartbroken.
"I know." Dean repeated. He wished for the millionth time that he could go back and change what had happened. "I'm sorry." He looked up and saw Sylvie in the doorway, wide-eyed. Dean gave her a minute shake of his head, knowing Sam would be even more mortified to be caught like this by a stranger. She nodded to him and stepped back.
Sylvie crept back down the hall to the kitchen and started a pot of coffee with shaking hands. She clasped one fist over her chest and wiped a stray tear from her eye. How could anyone see such heartbreak and such affection and not be touched? She had an overwhelming urge to go back in there and hug them both to her but knew it wouldn't be welcome. Instead, she worked at making the coffee that would no doubt be needed soon. It was close to dawn.
Dean felt when Sam slipped back into sleep, becoming heavy against him and his head rolling into the crook of Dean's shoulder with a little sniff. He smiled sadly with the memory of many times little Sammy had done much the same after nightmares. Dean gently eased him back to the couch and pulled the quilt back up to his chin. He waited a moment to be sure Sam was out again and then stood. He went out and followed the hall into the kitchen and sure enough, found Sylvie puttering about.
"Hey. Sorry we woke you," Dean said quietly. He smiled when he saw her over-bright eyes.
Sylvie waved a hand at him. "Don't worry about. I don't mind. I…" She trailed off and poured a cup of coffee to give herself a moment while Dean looked on. She took it over to him and held it out. "He's lost someone recently."
Dean nodded. "Yeah."
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to intrude." Sylvie put a hand on his elbow to offer him comfort. "If there's anything I can do for you boys, you just ask."
"You've done plenty already." Dean went and sat at the little kitchen table. "We just need some gas for the car to get back to town now."
"Oh that's no problem at all. I have an old pickup out back. Never use the thing, but my grandson keeps it gassed up. You can siphon off whatever you need." Sylvie smiled and went to the fridge. "You're not going anywhere however until you've eaten something." She took out one of the pot pies and quickly popped it into the oven to warm. "Trust me. Best in the county."
Dean grinned. "I do love pie."
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In Boone, in the hospital, a blind woman sat up in her bed and growled angrily. In her mind, she saw through the eyes of her creature, the thing she had trapped with magic and blood. Normally watching the land pass by below through its eyes was enough to calm her and placate her rage. The children she had promised the beast had slipped through its grasp, saved by two Hunters; two brothers. As the creature screamed its own hurt out into the night, she threw her head back and let out her own shout.
"Damn you Dean Winchester!"
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The open period for Prompts to be submitted is now closed and I am working on chapter 5. You've all given me a wealth of fun and diverse prompts to work with for the next chapter! Thank you!
Though prompts are closed until the next chapter is released, PLEASE continue to leave reviews and let me know how I'm doing. :D Knowing we're appreciated is what keeps a writer writing!