AN: Thanks to everyone who left a review, favorited, or followed my last chapter! This is the last chapter also, so thanks to anyone who stuck with this story till the end!
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Everything belongs to the creators of Supernatural.
Six minutes after Katherine called Dean, the Impala was screeching into her driveway. The car was quickly turned off, and within seconds, Dean was out of the car and running up the front walk to the door.
Dean raised a fist and pounded on the heavy wooden door several times. "Mrs. Warren!" he called. "Ms. Warren, it's Agent Walsh!"
A light shuffling noise could be heard from coming within the house. The doorknob turned slowly and Katherine Warren's face peered through the crack in the door. As she recognized Dean, her face lit up with happiness and the door came open the rest of the way. "Agent Walsh," she said and quickly ushered both men in. Right when Sam and Dean entered the house, they knew exactly what Katherine had been talking about. The heavy feeling of being watched was immediately sensed by the brothers.
Katherine must have seen as the brothers tensed when they walked into the house. She hurried to close the door and pulled her faded yellow shawl closer around her shoulders. Her eyes were wide with fear as she looked up at Dean. "You feel it too, don't you?"
Seeing no point in lying to the woman, Dean nodded quickly. Sam watched as Dean slowly pulled the duffle that he had snagged from the backseat of the car off his shoulder. He set it down on the flower-print armchair and looked at Ms. Warren. Sam had seen the look that was in Dean's eyes now only a handful of times. The bright green eyes looked pleading and held a certain degree of urgency and panic. Dean then started to speak in a voice that he usually reserved for frightened children.
"Ms. Warren, do you trust me?"
The nod that followed was given without hesitation. Sam was once again blown away in his older brother's ability to instill a sense of safety and trust in him into complete strangers. In times of panic and fear, people that had never seen him before followed Dean's lead without question. It was a trait that Sam didn't have and would forever envy.
"Alright," Dean started to unzip the duffle. "Then whatever happens next, I need you to listen to me and do exactly as I say. Your safety depends on it, okay?"
Once again, Ms. Warren nodded, a little slower this time but it was definitely there. Dean waited until he saw Katherine nod again, and then pulled out the first shotgun loaded with rock salt. He held it out for Sam to grab, which he did, and grabbed the next one for himself. Both brothers checked the shotguns to make sure they were in working order, and turned to look at Katherine.
Katherine's gaze was trained on the two large weapons. Her eyes glittered with momentary panic, and Sam was suddenly afraid that she was about to call the police on them. However, she seemed to rationalize something, because when she looked back up into Dean's eyes, her eyes were steady. "You aren't from the FBI, are you?" she asked calmly.
"No," Dean admitted. "But we are here to protect you." Without waiting to see Ms. Warren's reaction, Dean turned back to the duffle and brought forth a large canister of salt. Quickly, he opened the container and made a large circle in the middle of the floor. He looked back up at Katherine and reached out a hand. Slowly, she took it and Dean stepped her into the middle of the circle. "I need you to promise me," Dean's intense eyes met Katherine's. "That no matter what happens, you will stay inside this circle until either Sam or I tell you it's okay to leave, okay?"
"I promise," Katherine's voice came out small and trembling.
Dean gave a half smile. "Good." He disappeared into another room for a moment and came back carrying a dining room chair. He set it gently in the middle of the circle. Then, he gestured to Sam. Sam went to follow his older brother, but looked back at Katherine first. She had sat down in the chair and was looking at the doorway Dean had just walked through. Praying that she would be alright, Sam joined his brother.
Dean was standing in the middle of the room, his eyes wandering over every inch of it in search of a threat, when Sam got there. "Okay, so we need to find this thing and get rid of it as soon as possible," Dean stated. "And we need to keep an eye on Ms. Warren so that Peter doesn't come after her while we're looking for the locket."
Sam nodded in agreement. "Why didn't you just ask her where the locket was?" he asked.
"She's already freaked out enough. If we start asking about her jewelry as we're waving around weapons, she might think we are trying to rob her," Dean explained.
Unable to argue brother's logic, Sam nodded. He was just about to ask Dean how they were going to go about searching the house when a blood-curdling scream pierced the air from the other room. In a blink of an eye, Dean was through the doorway and back to the room that Katherine was in. Sam was quick to follow him.
Katherine was still standing in the middle of the circle, her eyes wide with fear and locked onto the figure across from her. Standing just on the edge of the salt circle was Peter McArthy. He was still clad in the dark coat that he died in, his stringy hair and long beard a tribute to the lack of care before his death. The two bullet holes that decorated his chest were still seeping with blood. A twisted grin pulled itself across his face as he stared at the woman in the circle.
"P-peter?" Ms. Warren's small voice could barely be heard.
Mother. The voice could be heard like a whisper in the wind. The curtains on the windows began to whip and the hanging light above them started to sway. Did you think I would forget? You left me to the mercy of these town people! You wouldn't even claim your own son! Lights started to flicker.
A sob was wrenched for Katherine's throat. "I'm sorry!"
The sick smile on Peter's face widened. No you aren't. He lifted one hand. But you will be.
Before Peter could do whatever he planned on doing, Dean's loud voice interrupted him. "Hey! Remember me?" The sound of a shotgun being cocked punctuated the question.
Peter whipped around. The spirit's eyes narrowed as he saw Dean. You.
Dean smiled. "Yeah it's me, you son-of-a-bitch. Ready for round two?"
All thoughts of his mother seemed to fly from Peter's head at Dean's taunting. In an instant, Peter had left the edge of the salt circle and came to stand in front of his brother. Without hesitation, Dean pulled the trigger, scattering Peter into oblivion. But it wouldn't last long and they both knew it.
Dean looked up at Sam. "Find the locket. I'll keep old Pete away from Katherine."
Instinctively, Sam wanted to buck against the order. Old anger for his dad came bubbling up to the surface, threatening to spill over. That coupled with the fact that Dean was once again putting himself in the line of fire, while already injured, made it very difficult for Sam to force his feet to carry him from the room.
Sam decided that the first place he should look was Katherine's bedroom. A part of Sam felt like blushing at the intrusion of privacy, but the lives of at least two people depended on him finding that locket.
Katherine's bedroom was at the top of the stairs. The door was wide open, which left Sam feeling a little less guilty, and he walked in. The room was simple. A bed, a nightstand with a lamp, a closet, and a dresser were the only things decorating the space. On top of the dresser was a cluttered mess. Sam's heart sank as he saw several jewelry boxes on the dresser, any which could hold the locket.
Before Sam could let the feeling of hopelessness settle too far in his mind, a loud crashing came from downstairs. Dealing with supernatural beings that liked to throw things since an early age, it was easy for Sam to identify the sound as a body being thrown into something hard. Knowing that Dean wouldn't have let Peter harm Katherine as long as he was breathing, it could only mean it was his brother being pounded on. Again.
Abandoning any shyness, Sam quickly started ripping open the jewelry boxes. In the back of his mind, he hoped that Katherine would understand the necessary carelessness after everything was over. After he had opened the last box, his anxiety multiplied. The locket was nowhere in sight. However, this didn't even come close to scaring him as when he noticed the thudding downstairs had stopped.
In an instant, Sam's long legs were propelling him downstairs. Frantic thoughts ripped through his mind. What had happened down there? At least as long as Dean was getting tossed around, Sam had known he was alive. This silence terrified him.
He made it downstairs in record time. A quick scan told Sam that Dean nor the ghost was anywhere in the immediate vicinity of the stairs. There was evidence of a fight, though. Shattered vases and even large dents in the walls attributed to the battle. Sam followed the trail of destruction into the room where Katherine was.
When he entered, Sam felt his heart stop. Katherine wasn't in the room, and neither was Dean. Panic clouded his thoughts as he continued following the damage to the kitchen, terrified of finding the broken body of his brother at the end. The scene in the kitchen surprised him.
Katherine was crouched on the floor, staring intently at the floor. Sam's heart dropped somewhere around his feet when he realized she was looking at Dean. "Dean!" he called, racing to kneel next to Katherine. "Dean!"
His older brother groaned. "Jesus, man. Give a guy a second would you?" Stiffly, Dean sat up. Dean's right arm curled tightly around his ribs. "Damn. That guy packs one hell of a punch."
Hearing such a "Dean" answer come from his brother immediately soothed his worry. Sam placed a steadying hand on Dean's shoulder. "What happened to you?"
"Well," Dean glanced over at Katherine. "Peter went after me when you went upstairs. We ended up in the kitchen," Sam's eyes narrowed as he realized Dean was omitting parts of the story, but let him continue. "And he had me pinned down in the kitchen. Then, he was just gone."
Sam was confused at the abrupt ending of the story. "Just like that?"
Dean looked at Kathrine again. "He might have had some help in getting gone."
His eyes widened as he looked at the woman next to Dean. "You?"
She nodded timidly. "I-I could hear Dean fighting-" she paused and her breath hitched with a sob. "Fighting with Peter." Sam sympathized with the dazed quality to her voice. An hour ago, she probably would have called the cops on anyone who had even played with the notion that her serial killer son could come back from the grave and try to harm her. Now, she was sitting next to two men who had come into her home armed with guns filled with rock salt, stood in a salt circle across from her dead son, and apparently helped get rid of that dead son, at least momentarily. It was understandable if she was slightly shaken. "I wanted to help," she started again, a defiant tone now creeping into her voice, as if daring Sam to question her about disobeying their orders. "I noticed that Peter couldn't seem to cross the salt earlier, so I picked some up and followed them into the kitchen." She barely stumbled over Peter's name this time. "I saw Dean getting beat up and threw the salt at Peter. Then, he just, disappeared."
The end of Katherine's story brought Sam jolting back into reality. Sure, salt dispelled spirits, but it wasn't permanent. Finding the locket became the priority again. He had to find it before Peter came back to tangle with Dean for a round three, and this time Dean wouldn't have had several days rest in between.
"Katherine," Sam looked at her with his most convincing 'I'm trying to be calm right now but this is important' face. "I need you to tell me something. Did you reclaim a locket that was found in an alley about two years ago?"
Ms. Warren's eyes got very wide, and her hand reached to grasp at something around her neck. Gently, she brought forth a small, silver locket from within the folds of her clothing. "You mean this one?" she asked softly.
Relief dawned over Sam at the sight of the small piece of jewelry. Trying to decide a way to break it to Ms. Warren that they had to burn the locket that obviously held value for her, Sam slowly reached for the chain. However, something caught the corner of his eye from the end of the room. Peter was flickering back into existence, and he looked pissed.
"Sam!" Dean's frantic voice pierced the delicate silence, not unlike Sam had a few minutes previously. Sam looked back at his brother who was casting around the floor, obviously looking for the shotgun. But before Dean could grasp the life-saving weapon, Peter was on him again. This time, Peter had no intention of playing with his prey before-hand. No, this time, Peter had gone straight for the neck. He tightened his grip on Dean's throat, slowly but surely killing him. Peter grinned. Die.
With no regard for what Katherine thought, but sending up a silent apology, he ripped the necklace from her hand. He ran over to the sink, pulling out the small canister of salt and lighter fluid both brothers kept on them at all times now. The necklace was thrown in the sink and quickly doused with salt and lighter fluid. Sam fumbled through his jacket pockets, searching for the elusive lighter, cursing as he was acutely aware that every second he couldn't find it was a second of Dean's life squeezed away. Finally, Sam's hand curled around the small silver lighter. He could have cried out of relief, but instead, he flipped open the top, watched as the flame sparked to life, and threw it down on the locket. The necklace went up like kindling, and Sam watched in fascinated horror as he contemplated how important fire had been in his life.
An agonized scream marked Peter's passing from this world and effectively pulled Sam from his thoughts. His legs started moving on their own, his body craving contact with his older brother. However, his mind and heart cried in protest, knowing that what he found might completely tear his world apart.
Dean lay still in the middle of the floor. Eerily still. Once again, Sam's heart clenched painfully and his mind screamed. Just walk away! it seemed to say. If you don't see it then it isn't real! But Sam's body refused to listen. Sam watched as his hand reached for his brother's still body, heard as his voice said, with all the fragility of a lost child, "Dean?"
SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN
"And you're sure you're okay?" came Katherine's voice, still strained from the afternoon she'd been through.
Sam nodded wearily. "Yeah, we're okay." His right hand was gently settling his older brother, who was listing slightly into his side, arm curled tightly around his ribs.
Katherine smiled slightly. "Good," she said. "And-thanks again." Sam just nodded and gently led Dean out the front door. It took some maneuvering, but Sam managed to get Dean settled into the Impala's passenger seat. He then slipped around to the other side and fired up the engine. The car backed slowly out of the drive, and Sam waved to Katherine as they pulled away.
"I'm glad she understood about the locket," Sam said absently. He felt kind of bad about that, but if he hadn't done it, Dean would be dead. Dean merely grunted in agreement. "Need a hospital man?" Sam asked, slightly worried at Dean's lack of communication. Maybe the concussion was worse than a 'sleep-it-off' kind of thing, or maybe the ribs were actually broken instead of just cracked like Dean claimed.
"Nah," Dean mumbled. "Just a week of sleep." With that, Dean tucked himself closer into the side panel of the Impala, eyes closing.
"Hey," Sam said, pushing Dean slightly. "Don't fall asleep yet. I don't want to have to haul your heavy ass into the motel. Dean moaned softly but sat himself more upright again.
They pulled into the motel. Sam walked over to the other side and helped Dean get back out. Just as Dean had managed a standing position, the sky opened up above them and rain started to fall. "Shit," Sam muttered, knowing they couldn't move at more than a fast shuffle. Resigning to getting soaked, Sam moved Dean so they could start walking to the room. When they were about halfway there, Dean started to chuckle. "Is there-" Sam panted, "something you-find funny in-this situation?"
Dean just snorted. "Just our freaking Winchester luck, Sammy."
Sam couldn't help but agree.
When they finally made it to the room, Dean all but collapsed onto his bed. He groaned miserably at the pressure the position put on his ribs but he didn't seem at all inclined to move. After ten minutes, Sam had gotten cleaned up and checked on Dean. His older brother seemed to have almost fallen asleep, his eyes almost all the way closed. Sam smiled, Dean would be just fine. Sam laid down in his own bed and listened to the sound of Dean breathing, letting it comfort him in the fact that Dean was still alive to fight another day. Just as Sam was on the brink of unconsciousness himself, a sneeze penetrated the silence. Dean let out a moan and a quiet "dammit" slipped out from under his breath. Sam couldn't stop a small laugh from escaping. "How're you feeling Dean?"
"Just peachy."
AN: So that's the end! I hope I ended it well enough to wrap up all the ends! Please review and let me know what you thought!
