:) thank you all again for the reviews, i hope you enjoy this chapter. let me know :)

D: as always, this is just for fun.

WHAT BECOMES OF US

Chapter 4

It was late in the day when the boys pulled up outside the crumbling library, the old brick facade cracked and weathered, copper trimming green with time and the elements. The ornate windows glowed warm and dull, slicing through the chilling air, the shadows clinging to the old building like cobwebs, dropping off its corners, shrouding the street below in a ominous, murky darkness. All in all, it was a place that truly showed its age.

The brothers slowly exited the car, both taking in the building before them, starting at it through the falling dusk, searching for any troubling signs. But the library was eerily silent, deceptively calm. At first glance no one would have been able to tell that that building saw the deaths of so many, saw the last moments of over two dozen lives. No, to any normal person it looked like nothing more then a library, nothing more then an old building made of brick. But then again, the Winchesters were far from normal.

Sam could feel them, every life that had been lost, every future that had been cut short. Each and every voice echoed to him, every scream ringing in his ears, assaulting his senses. The horror that was this place could not hide from him, no matter how much he wished it would. The pain behind his eyes was growing with each passing moment, his brother's voice distant, barely recognizable amid the cries that were filling his aching head. He tried to focus, tried to push through it all, but he found the sensations to be overwhelming, the emotions flowing into him like a raging river, pulling him down into the abyss below.

"Sam!" Finally, after what seemed like hours, the voices eased, his brother's hands holding his shoulders firmly, shaking him, his green eyes wide and afraid. The younger hunter could feel himself moving, feel his brother's arms around his shoulders, pulling him. He fought back for just a moment, Dean's grip instantly growing stronger, before he allowed himself to be led away, allowed himself to fall into safety, to fall back into the protective shadow cast by his big brother.

"Dean." He managed to bite out as the voices began to fade, the overwhelming sense of fear drowning along with the din. It had been tough, too tough, the terror of each victim's abduction had run over him, seeping into his bones, and planting itself deep within his heart.

"I'm here, Sammy."

"My head hurts." His voice was nothing more then a whisper, his expressive eyes closed tightly against the world around him. He sunk back into the comfort of the impala's leather seats as his brother slid into the seat beside him, the car roaring to life while the last of the night's terror faded away.

"Are you still with me?"

"Yeah."

"Vision?"

"No."

"Then what was it?" Dean asked tensely, searching the unfamiliar streets for a motel, his grip tight on the wheel. Whatever had happened back there had scared the older hunter to death. The change had been so instant, so unexpected, that it had momentarily frozen the terrified man. Sam had just stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes rolling back in his head as he stared at the building before them, and Dean had been at a loss to explain it.

"I don't know. It was like I could hear all the people that went missing. They were screaming." Sam didn't see the point in lying, knowing that he could not go through this alone and keep his sanity.

"Like they're spirits are here?" Dean asked, pulling into the parking lot of their newest home.

"No. It's just like echoes, you know. Like the last thing they were feeling before they got taken."

"Maybe your spidy senses are growing?" Dean smiled, trying to lighten the oppressive mood.

"I sure hope not." It was nothing more the a sigh, his voice so weak, so quiet that his brother had barely been able to hear him. Barely.

"We'll fix it, Sam."

"Yeah."

"We will. Now just sit tight, I'll get the room." Dean was out of the car before his brother had the time to react, his mind racing. He had seen over and over again what the visions had done to his brother, and he just hoped to god that they weren't getting more powerful. Because, honestly, he didn't think that Sam would be able to handle it.

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The first thing he noticed was how bone chillingly cold the room was. The dark space lit by nothing more then candles, illuminating the ice covered walls like silver. It was a cellar of some sort, of that much he was sure. He strained his eyes and ears to the darkness, trying to take in everything around him, make some sense of what he was seeing.

As his eyes adjusted to the gloom he saw that the small room was empty, save for an old stone alter, the figure laying across it shivering in the icy air. He tried to move forward, tried to go to the girl, to tell her that everything would be all right, but he found himself unable to move, unable to do anything other then watch the horrible scene unfold.

He could see the knife being drawn along her tense body, feel the fear that was running over her soul, surging into her very being. He could see the terror shinning through her large eyes, see her body twitch as her blood ran freely, but still he could do nothing. And then it happened. The billowing fog raced into one of the girls, took control of her frail body, spoke through her in a voice not her own.

"For love, for family, for destiny. We do not chose our will, we save our souls." And the knife came down, plunging through the captive girl's heart, her muffled scream flowing over into him as he shot forward.

"NO!" Sam sat bolt upright in the bed, his body covered with sweat, breathing shallow and unsteady. Dean was at his side in a matter of moments, holding his shaking shoulders before his eyes even began to focus, before he could even figure out where he was. It had been so real, so terrifying, so horrible, that he felt the bile rise, his stomach churning as the last images rolled over and over through his mind.

"Sam, you all right?"

"I think I'm gonna hurl."

Dean got the trash bin to him just in time, rubbing his brother's back slowly as the younger man leaned over the bed. He let Sam finish before handing him a glass of water, the taller man leaning against the head board, face pale and sweaty.

"You ok?"

"Yeah." Sam sighed as he spit out some water before holding the cold glass to his forehead. "Peachy."

"Was it a vision?"

"Yeah."

"Any idea's where we have to go?" Dean was speaking calmly, knowing he had to give Sam space. His little brother watched people die, plain and simple, and Dean knew just how hard that must be for him to deal with, just how awful it must be to watch people die, knowing there was no way to stop it.

"It's a cellar of some kind, but it doesn't matter. She's dead."

"How do you know? There might still be a chance."

"No. This was different. I think I was watching something that's already happened."

"Well that's not really very fair. Why the hell even see it?"

"I don't know."

"Do you know who it was?"

"Yeah, I think it was Megan Marshal."

"Damn it."

"Hey, Dean, we tried. And look, there's still one more victim that needs to be taken, we can stop that."

"Yeah, but what about the girl?"

"We can find her body, bring her home."

"You mean tell her parents that their kid's never coming back?"

"Dean."

"Yeah, yeah, closure. I know the drill."

"We can't save everyone."

"Yeah, I know." Dean mumbled, knowing all to well that he couldn't save everyone. But that would still never stop him from trying, never make him forget the ones he couldn't get to in time. "So, did you get anything on the thing that killed her?"

Sam couldn't suppress the shutter that ripped through his body, the girls in the cellar were something he knew he didn't want to mess with. "Yeah, and it was creepy as hell, too."

"What was it."

"I think it was the Trater girls."

"I thought they died."

"Yeah well, I couldn't really tell, but I think they were alive. And get this, during the ritual gray smoke appeared and possessed one of the girls, chanted something and then stabbed Megan in the heart."

"Wait, wait, ritual?"

"Yeah, they had her pined to a blood soaked, stone alter. It was pretty bad." Sam nearly whispered, his mind drifting back to the nightmare he had witnessed, feeling the terror all over again.

"What'd the possessed chick say?" Dean cut in, seeing the color begin to drain out of his brother's face once more.

"Uh. 'For love, for family, for destiny. We do not chose our will, we save our souls.' But it wasn't her talking, it was whatever possessed her."

"You think daddy dearest is using his kids to carry on his work?"

"Seems like it. But why?"

"He's buckets of crazy?"

"I think there maybe a little more to it then that, Dean."

"That's all the reason I need. All we gotta do is burn the bones."

"And what's to say the girls won't just keep doing it?"

"What's to say they will?"

"You didn't see it, Dean. The other girl, the way she looked at her possessed sister, it was like she was looking at her hero."

"Well then, we take care of the girls, too. And no not shoot them." Dean continued, seeing the scowl that crossed his brother's face. "We just lock 'em up somewhere and then call the boys in blue. Easy as pie."

"Easy as pie?"

"Yup, pie."

"Dean, when is anything ever that easy?"

"Well, think about it this way. We're do."

"I don't think the world works like that."

"Yeah well, it should." Dean sighed, throwing himself down on his own bed, suddenly overcome by exhaustion. 'When all is said and done.' He told himself. 'The cosmos really are gonna own us. Big time.' "So, how long till the next one goes missing?"

"Uh." Sam began kneading his forehead, trying to lessen the pain of the not completely vision related headache the conversation was inspiring. "Five days till the next one goes missing."

"And then five days after that?"

"Well, I really don't know. I mean, the bodies were always found five days after, but they'd been dead for a little while at least. And now the bodies aren't showing up at all, so who knows?"

"So, all we know is that, in five days, someone is gonna go missing from the library?"

"Not if we can help it." Sam mumbled, pulling open his laptop.

They sat in silence for another hour, both taking in what Sam had seen, both planning what their next step would be. They knew that, if they didn't figure out what was going on in the next five days, then they would have to wait another five years.

But it was more then that, much more. This was their first hunt since the Asura, their first hunt since being the hunted, and neither man really knew how to react to that. They had let their guards down without even knowing it, and their enemies had jumped at them faster then either brother ever thought possible. And who's to say that it wouldn't happen again.

"So." Dean began, clearing his throat after the long silence. He didn't like the quiet, didn't like the emptiness that it inspired, that autonomy that it suggested. Dean like noise, he liked action, he like crowds of noisy, action filled people. The silence to him was like death, barreling down upon him, closing him in, driving him back into his own soul, forcing him behind his own walls. No, he liked places where he could lose himself, and the silence did just the opposite.

"Yeah?" Sam answered, not looking up from the computer.

"What happened back at the library?"

"What do you mean?" The younger Winchester skirted the issue as he typed, knowing full well what his brother meant. The only problem was, that he didn't know what had happened.

"I told you, I could feel them all." He continued after a moment, seeing that his brother wasn't about to let it go.

"Yeah, and?"

"And what? That's it."

"Come on, Dude, that's weak."

"Well, I'm sorry, but that's all I've got."

Dean's reply was cut off by the shrill ringing of his cell phone. Both brothers watched as the device flashed and rang, Sam and Dean both knowing who was on the other end, but both still just watching it.

"You gonna get that?" Sam asked, looking back down at the laptop.

"No."

"How many times has he called you?"

"I don't know. It's gotta be near a hundred now though."

"You should call him back."

"Well excuse me Mr. Hypocritical, but I believe you have just as many on your phone."

"Yeah, yeah. You do know he's gonna kick our asses when he finds us."

"If he finds us."

"What?" Sam's head shot up, brown eyes staring incredulously at his brother. "You're hiding!" He didn't know why he didn't see it before. The aimless driving, the lack of hunts, everything. His brother hadn't been taking a break, hadn't been healing, he'd been hiding from their father.

"Don't sound so surprised."

"Why?"

"Why, not?"

"Dean?" He didn't know what else to say. Dean nearly worshiped their father. His big brother needed the older man far more then he would ever let on. He wanted the family to be together, wanted to hunt with their dad, wanted to make the man proud. And Sam just couldn't fathom the idea that he would willing hide from him.

"Look, I'm twenty-eight. I shouldn't need to hang around with my dad all the time."

"Well, if that isn't a half- assed answer then I don't know what is."

"You're changing the subject, what happened today?"

"And you're changing the subject, why are you hiding from dad?"

"You know, I don't need this." Dean stood, shrugging into his jacket and scooping up the motel and car keys.

"Where're you going?"

"Out."

"Out where?"

"Out, out. I don't know."

And before Sam could answer Dean was gone, door slamming in his wake, the younger man not even knowing where the conversation had gone wrong.