Sorry for not updating yesterday. Real life got in the way sadly. So anyway, here's the next chapter~ I'm gonna be posting a new story btw, so that may affect how often this is updated, but it probably won't, just wanted to warn you in case I don't update every one or two days, I haven't given up on this story though so don't worry.
R&R please!
Disclaimer: Still not owning them
"We should call Bobby." Dean spoke up out of the blue, surrounded by the purple sheets that Sam had moved from his bed to replace the bloodstained ones from Dean's.
"Bobby? Why?" Sam asked from the chair he sat in across the room, the same one he was sitting in when Dean finally fell asleep last night. The same chair he had only vacated once in order to grab his laptop and start searching for more information.
"Well don't you think that if anyone were to know something about this thing, it would be Bobby?" Dean muttered from his cocoon of blankets, flipping over on the bed to face Sam. "I mean, it's obvious that we're…" He trailed off, suddenly going silent, and Sam glanced up from the computer to see Dean glaring at him.
"What?"
"You son of a bitch, Sam."
"What? Dean-"
"You promised me you'd take care of that, Sam!" Dean unburied an arm from the blankets and pointed accusingly at the bite mark on Sam's bare shoulder, dried blood crusted over the wound. "You said you'd take care of it! It's probably infected now. Dammit, Sam!" Sam looked down at the ragged holes circling his shoulder, surprise flashing across his face.
"Crap. Dean, I'm sorry, man. I just forgot about it, I swear."
"'Forgot' my ass, Sam! You don't 'forget' a damn Mngwa bite. Hell, it's still bloody. Come over here and let me see it. Now." Dean ordered, but Sam never was one to follow orders.
"No. Dean it's fine. Really. See?" Sam brought a hand up and pressed lightly over the wound. What he wasn't expecting, though, was the sudden flare of pain that shot up like ice over his skin. A yelp of pain fell unbidden from his lips, and the sound had Dean struggling to untangle himself from the sheets, spitting curses when he couldn't.
"Wait Dean. Stop. You'll pull the stitches." Muttered Sam weakly, biting his lip to stop another pained sound from spilling forth as the icy feeling spread down his chest.
"Screw the damn stitches, Sam! Dammit, come here. I need to see how bad it is."
Sam hesitated, chewing on his lip, but finally complied, standing from the chair and slowly shuffling his way closer to where Dean lay.
"Sit down." Dean commanded, patting the bed next to him.
He sighed, "I'm not a dog you know."
"Yeah well you won't be much of anything once I'm through kicking your ass after this, so it doesn't really matter. Sit." Dean threatened, and Sam knew from experience that he probably wasn't lying either.
Deciding not to test the waters any more than he already had, Sam sat on the bed next to him, his wounded shoulder faced towards his brother. Dean scooted up on the bed, leaning closer to Sam and peered closely at the bite.
"Dammit. It's definitely infected now." He growled angrily, but Sam could read the anger for what it really was: concern. Choosing the wiser path, Sam remained silent and still, suffering through Dean's mother-henning. "We need to flush this out with holy water."
He swallowed nervously. "Uh, Dean? I kinda used up all the holy water last night on your cuts."
"…So? Bless some more or something then."
"Um. It doesn't really work that way, remember? We kinda need a holy priest to bless water."
Dean cursed loudly this time, his fit hitting the bed forcefully in frustration. He ran his other hand through his short hair and down his face, a sure sign that he was worried. Silence settled over them for a while before Dean finally sighed.
"Okay well…just let me look at it then. We might be able to take care of it with peroxide." He leaned in closer again, his face deceptively calm, but Sam could easily read the worry that threatened to explode dancing under the surface.
A calloused hand landed lightly on his wounded shoulder, ice cold pain igniting under the touch, and he flinched away violently.
"Whoa, easy there, buddy. I won't touch it again, alright? But we seriously need to clean that out with holy water. If a Mngwa's claws have the holy water giving out a reaction, then I don't want to know what its teeth are gonna do. You could get some sort of supernatural disease from that for all you know. Tell me, you feeling anything? Because your skin is real hot." Dean said, leaning back away from Sam, wary of hurting his brother any more than he already had.
"Hot? I'm freezing." Sam's voice came out shaky with barely restrained pain, body shaking slightly with chills.
"You're cold? Damn. You've got a fever then. Alright that's it. We are so calling Bobby right now." Dean stated as he made to rise from the bed, but he only managed to get his chest clear of the covers before Sam was pressing a palm against his forehead, stopping his progress.
"I'll call him, Dean. Like it or not, your still in worse shape than I am. Don't move around yet or those wounds will open up again. Seriously, they'll scar worse than they're already going to if you insist on moving. I got this." Sam reassured as he stood from the bed before Dean could stop him. Walking on suddenly weak legs over to his bag, he reached in the pouch and retrieved his cellphone, flipping it open and dialing the number he had memorized. It had barely rung twice before a gruff voice was answering from the other end.
"Ello? Who is it?"
Sam smiled at the sound of the old hunter's voice. "Hey, Bobby, it's Sam Winchester."
"Sam? What're you calling me for, boy? You and that brother of yours in some sort of trouble again?"
"You could say that. Bobby, we need your help."
"When do you idjits ever just call to say 'hello'? Alright, what is it?" Bobby's reluctant voice filtered through the phone.
"We're hunting a Mngwa in Minnesota, and well, we kinda got our asses kicked so we're currently holed up in our motel room. We were wondering if you knew of any way to kill these things."
"The Mngwa? You idjits are huntin The Mngwa? Do you have a death wish or somethin? You realize that the Mngwa is one of a kind, right? There is no other." Bobby said, fear present in his tone.
"It is? No, Bobby, we weren't aware that it was one of a kind. But even if it is, why is that so bad? We can still kill it, right?" Sam glanced over worriedly at Dean, who was sitting up in the bed and staring at the phone as if he could hear the words just from looking hard enough.
"Boy, ain't nothing invincible. Of course you can kill it, but it's gonna be hella hard. The Mngwa is one of three legendary beasts spoken of in a Swahili song. The name means 'The Strange One', and it's described along with the lion Simba and the leopard Nsui. You said that you and your brother got your asses kicked? Well you should be lucky that the thing didn't scratch or bite you, or you'd be six feet under by now." Sam glanced at Dean again, worry gnawing at his stomach.
"Uh, Bobby, it scratched Dean. And bit me."
"It did what? It got you and you're still breathing air? Well, kid, I'd like to say that that's a good thing, but I'm not too sure it is. The only reason that the Mngwa would leave you alive is if it wanted you alive for a reason, and I can promise you it won't be anything good."
"Alright, Bobby. I get it, we're screwed. Do you know of anything that can kill this thing or not? Because I'd really like to kill this bitch now. We already know iron rounds are useless. Dean shot about five off into the thing and it didn't even react, so you got anything else for us?" Sam questioned as he began to pace restlessly. All the news Bobby had given him so far just managed to dig them even further into the hole that was 'screwed'.
"Well I might have something. I heard that the Mngwa has a weakness for fire. As you probably know, the Mngwa can't survive outside the forest, so anything that might destroy its forest can destroy it. Hence, fire. But I don't want either of you idjits doing anything else reckless. You sit tight and wait until I get there, you're gonna need the help."
Sam sighed in relief, happy to know that the Mngwa could be killed, and turned to Dean, mouthing "Fire" at him before turning his attention back to what Bobby was saying. Something about waiting until he got there.
"Yeah, we'll wait here till you come. I don't think Dean's up to much movement anyways."
Bobby grunted his approval and hung up the phone without another word, no doubt moving to pack his few necessities and start the drive up to Minnesota. Snapping the phone shut and tossing it back into his bag, Sam turned back to where Dean sat in the bed, leaning against the headrest.
"Ok. So, apparently we're dealing with a legendary monster, as in a one-of-a-kind kinda monster. Also, Bobby says we're in deep shit and that fire can kill this thing." Sam summarized for Dean, heading into the bathroom to wet a washcloth. Dean's eyes followed his progress until he was in the hidden from view before speaking up.
"So he wants us to, what, stay put until he gets here?"
"Generally, yes. You know, it's a smart idea, Dean. We're gonna need some extra help on this one, not to mention that you can't exactly stand right now. So yeah, we're staying here until Bobby comes." Turning on the faucet, he wet the washcloth and brought it up to his wounded shoulder, gently running it over the bite to clean the dried blood away.
"Well joy. What are we supposed to do for…however long it's gonna take him to get here." Dean's bored voice came from the other room.
Biting back the groan of pain that threatened to slip through, Sam continued to wash the blood free from his skin, red tinged water running into the sink to disappear down the drain.
"I don't know Dean, figure something out."
A groan of annoyance was his only answer, but a few seconds later the background noise of the T.V. met his ears. Fake screams played from the T.V, and the unmistakable sound of Godzilla roaring had his brother laughing.
"Guess what, Sam. It's Godzilla vs. Mothra. Love this movie."
Sam shook his head slightly, smiling fondly. It amazed him how the simplest things managed to catch his brother's attention.
Looking back into the mirror that hung askew on the cracked wall, he ran the washcloth over the wound one more time, not liking how the skin was puffy and red. With a final swipe of the washcloth, the holes marring his shoulder were blood free, but now he could see just how bad it looked. The holes went almost all the way through his shoulder and the flesh looked raw and painful, but it didn't hurt nearly as much as it should have.
Putting it off for the moment, he instead grabbed a bandage from the first aid kit that sat under the sink and wrapped it over the wound tightly, wincing when the cold pain flared through him once again. Sam gave his finished work a cursory look before deeming it okay and moving back out into the room. He glanced over at his smiling brother whose green eyes staring fixatedly at the screen as Godzilla stepped on a cardboard box masquerading as a building.
Shaking his head again, he made his way over to the other bed and dropped heavily down on it, mashing his face into the pillow. His eyes closed against the comforting noise of Dean's laughter, exhaustion pulling him down despite his attempts at staying awake. Caffeine could only keep you going for so long. The sounds of the T.V. faded into the background, and eventually faded completely as sleep took him down.
()()()()SPN()()()()
He was on the beach. The waves sparkling like millions of diamonds under the sun. The warm sand rand in between his toes and tickled the soles of his bare feet. Seagulls cried overhead, swooping low and skimming over the surface of the shining water. It was beautiful, but not as beautiful as the woman that stood next to him.
Her golden hair matched perfectly with the vibrant blue ocean and her laughter melded together with the roar of the waves like a melody of happiness. Her blue eyes sparkled brighter than the water and the sun had nothing on her blinding smile.
Her hand was curled in his, swinging back and forth to a rhythm only she knew. She cocked her head to the side, golden curls falling around her shoulders and laughter dancing in her eyes.
"Isn't it beautiful here, Sam?" The sound of her voice had his heart soaring as high as the clouds.
"It sure is beautiful, Jess." He said softly, his eyes locked on her glowing form.
She smiled that blinding smile at him again, and slipped her hand out of his, running ahead of him to stand in the waves. Her hair billowed out around her face, blowing gently in the breeze. The sight of her beautiful figure standing with the sparkling waves at her back had him wondering momentarily if he had died and gone to heaven.
She continued to smile at him, extending her hand towards him in invitation. A dimpled smile broke out on his own face as he walked after her, hand extended towards her own. He should have known it was too good to be real. He should have realized the cliché situation he was currently in, with his hand reaching towards hers, mere inches separating them, but he was too caught up in the moment.
He froze when suddenly her hand burst into flames, the red fire licking up the length of her arm, eating away her flesh and turning her beautiful skin the charred black of death.
Her hand was soon completely consumed, blackened bones the only thing left. It was still extended towards him, as if daring him to grab the Grim Reaper's hand. His mouth dropped open in horror, a scream lodging in his throat as he stumbled back from the burning figure.
Jess's head cocked to the side again, but it didn't look cute this time. Not with fire melting the flesh of her face and catching in her hair, setting her golden curls to flame. He stumbled back another step, but this time the burning figure of Jess followed him, matching his step back with a forward step of her own.
The blackened bones that used to be her arms reached towards him, her face resembling a skull more than a human now. Her mouth opened, fire licking from between her teeth.
"Why don't you love me, Sam? Why did you leave me to die?" She accused, stepping forward once more before the brittle bone of her leg snapped in half, dropping her to her knees in the sand.
Turning her eyes up towards him, her face just a burned skull now, flaming hair darting wildly in the wind, she stared at him as if waiting for an answer. Her blue eyes were the only part of her body not consumed by flames, and they stood out even more against her charred skin.
She would never get an answer though, because in the next moment his eyes snapped open, chest heaving for air. He immediately looked around the room until his eyes fell on the sleeping form of Dean. He must have sacked out not too soon after Sam fell asleep.
He was contemplating waking his brother when a knock on the door had his decision made for him. Dean's eyes flew open, locking first on the door, then on Sam. Nodding his understanding, Sam rolled off the bed soundlessly, grabbing his Glock from the table on his way to the door.
Holding the weapon at the ready, he cautiously peered through the peep-hole before visibly relaxing. He tucked the gun into the back waistband of his pants and pulled the door open.
"Hey, Bobby. That was fast. You must have broken a few speed limits to make it here." Sam noted as the seasoned hunter came through the door, shutting it behind him.
"Well I wouldn't have had to if you boys didn't decide to be a bunch of idjits and try to mess with a Mngwa." Bobby grumbled, setting down his bag of stuff on the small table and moving to stand in front of the bed Dean was laid up on. "Look at you Dean. Bedridden because you two had to go and jump the gun on this."
Dean's face screwed up in surprise at being scolded and he opened his mouth to say something, but Bobby cut him off before he could get a word out.
"I don't want to hear it. Now just listen here, the only rumored way to kill this thing is with fire, so I came prepared." Bobby reached into his duffel bag and pulled out an impressive looking flamethrower.
"Well damn. Guess that'll do the job. What do you say we torch this son of bitch, Sammy?"
"I say let's."
()()()()SPN()()()()
Those foolish sheep. They plan my death, but I've been around for millennia. No matter. Let the sheep play. Let them plan. Let them prepare, and when they finally come to confront me, then I shall show them how a real hunter hunts. I will make you fear, sheep. I will make you suffer. Only then will I feast on your flesh, for what better taste is there than meat tinged with fear. What better sight is there than that of the light dying from frightened eyes. You think you can kill me, sheep? I look forward to seeing you try.
So nothing much happened this chapter, but Bobby is here now, and now they have an idea of how to kill the thing, so I promise more action next chapter. Let me know what you think~ Thorn.