Dean hadn't really realized when he'd nodded off to sleep. He'd switched spots with Sam a while back, when the skies had darkened. It was almost like his cycle had been reset; this dream was short, with one detail as a focus, but everything was in sharp detail.
The room had been so blazing white it hurt his eyes as he looked down at white-tiled floor. His vision zoned in from blurry to clear as his eyes focused.
He saw his hands, grimy with dirt, and dark red scabs had dried in his nailbeds. One hand was skinned; there were multiple scabs on scabs, lines in different stages of healing, the skin was all variations between red and flesh colored. It was from the many, many times he'd stuck his hands through the bars to hold Sam's hand.
He was rattling his wrists against the iron cuffs as hard as he could, chaffing the skin from his wrists easily as skin and blood began to scrape onto the edges. He could sense someone was behind him, and he felt panic rise violently into his chest.
Another thing came into view: a sterile-looking steel table with various tools on it, gleaming evilly in the starchy bright light.
He heard an awful whirring, like the high-pitched,dried-out and squeaky buzz of a dentists' drill. He squeezed his eyes shut, screwing up his face as he stained against the iron cuffs in a vain attempt to escape.
He then felt a piercing pain screaming through his skull, it started to move in an arc as Dean felt warm blood slip down his grimy scalp and drip uncomfortably down the sides of his ears and down the nape of his neck. The thing was slicing his skull open in a circle like a power saw. He founded himself screaming as he tried to strain against his bonds, anything to get himself out of here.
Dean woke with a start when Sam knocked loudly on the glass his cheek was resting on.
"I see why Cas was always so impatient. Sleeping's pretty inefficient." Sam joked, as Dean rubbed his face. He looked out the window- the sky was still the pinkish-gray of dawn. He was grateful to have been woken up though- his dream had been strange and it made him nervous.
"Okay, what did you want to wake me up at too godamn early o' clock for?" He yawned and climbed from the car. Sam was muching on a breakfast sandwhich as he handed him a newpaper article he'd clipped from, taking another large bite out of the sandwhich.
"Screw you for that," Dean muttered under his breath, and Sam very unattractively smiled with a clear view of all the mashed up food in his mouth. Dean rolled his eyes and read the newspaper article quickly.
"So you thinking vengeful ghost?" He asked when he'd finished. It was an article about how apparently, at the prescreening of a movie at an old theater, the movie had been so scary that people had clawed their own cheeks and eyes out, some died of heart attacks or asthma attacks.
"I don't know. I read up a little on it and it said the theater burned down about a year ago, and one girl died. But nothing weird has happened there until now. Maybe it really was the movie." Sam explained.
"So, where is it?" Dean asked.
"At this place called Dryden Cinemas, it's about two hours away. We can start at the hospital with one of the victims." He motioned for Dean to get in the car first.
"Age before beauty," Sam said, smirking at him.
"Been getting way more beauty sleep than you!" Dean quipped back, getting into the car and slamming the door. He suddenly heard something very peculiar, rapid bursts of sound like when a radio transmission is interrupted by a text or phone call.
"...d.d.d...';an...er:re...d.d.d...nw?" Dean covered his ears with his hands, and was filled with relief when the strange noises finally stopped. Sam had climbed into the car and looked up at him with surprise.
"So you heard that?" He asked, instead of the 'what's wrong?' that Dean had been expecting. Dean brought his brows together. "You heard it too? What is that?"
"That was me." Sam said, looking at him with observant eyes as if he were examining him. "I've been trying to get through to you since you first came back."
"What are you talking about?" Dean asked. Why had Sam sent such a strange message? He couldn't have learned Enochian already, could he?
"I've been trying to talk to you through our bond, but it didn't seem to be coming through. I've been testing it all along and never got a response..till now."
"But, why? Why couldn't I hear them before?" Dean asked, driving smoothly down the road.
"...c..c...',,rii...blw...d,:aa..." Dean had to restrain himself from ripping his hand from the wheel and covering his ears. "Stop it!" He burst out, peeved.
"Sorry. I wanted to see if it got a little better. Dean, I don't know exactly how they did it, but they somehow messed around with your brain, I think."
"They? You mean heaven?" He asked. "What did they do?" He thought back to what the demon had said again. That his brain was 'scrambled like eggs'.
"I don't know. I tried to have a look- everything just looked off. I think it's the connections; it's like you blew a fuze and now not everything is hooking up with what it's supposed to. But I think you're getting better, it's repaired enough for me to get something through, right?"
"I...barely anything. I feel like I'm defective or something." Dean voiced his true opinion. He hated how he'd been treated when he first got back, and he could barely do anything still.
"I think you're learning. And your brain is probably healing at the same time, plugging things back in, taking time to heal up the frayed bits. Look." He stared at Dean, and he got another message in his head, the incoherent noises making him feel like he was going crazy.
"...d.d.d...de..." The noises trilled into his head, rapid bursts and choppy bits if the words, like someone had taken the sentence, diced it, and taken out the majority of the information.
"Sam, dammit! Just wait a little, that's freaking me out," He said, turning his attention back to the road. He was silent for a moment, debating whether or not he should tell Sam about the disturbing dream he'd had before he woke him up.
"I think they did do something to my brain." He voiced quietly after a moment. "My dream- I was strapped to a chair, and someone was..." He felt disgusted suddenly at having to say what he had seen aloud. He didn't like the idea of someone meddling around in his gray matter, disabling connections or poking around.
"Someone was doing some sort of surgery on me. They were cutting open my skull, in a circle, I was trying to escape but-" He suddenly felt sick to his stomach. Someone had been in his brain, scrambling information, messing with the mechanics: he was met with a full body shudder. He felt violated and dirty, with that sour feeling in his stomach that came with the realization.
"That's after I left, Dean." Sam said, looking shocked. "What else?"
"Nothing else. It was short, that's all I saw." He shot it down, and clenched his jaw. "I don't really want to talk about any of this right now, okay? Just, tell me more about this case. Please. What about the fire?"
Sam looked a bit dejected that Dean had changed the subject so abruptly, like he didn't trust him or something, but he continued anyway.
"About a year ago, the theater caught on fire and the building was mostly burned down. The girl who died was a senior in high school out on a date with her boyfriend, who survived. They rebuilt the cinema after that, and it's mainly a local, family owned business." He said, used to firing off facts. "That was one year ago, so I don't know why she's suddenly decided to be vengeful, that, or it was a haunted movie."
"I guess we'll just have to find out from the victim. They're at the hospital, you said?" Dean asked, grateful to shift the topic off of him.
"Yeah. She blinded herself pretty early on, but she's the only one who is giving any interviews right now."
...
They'd passed through security easily enough, saying they just wanted to ask some questions, flashing badges.
They finally made it to the patient. She was resting in her hospital bed, and she looked on edge as she jumped with every noise and clatter around her. She had white gauze wrapped around her eyes, and an IV in her arm. She had scabby scratch marks down her cheeks, and she was fidgiting her fingers uneasily.
"Miss Christianson?" Sam asked in his best soothing sweet-guy voice. The young woman slightly jumped and turned to look at them, forgetting that she wouldn't be able to see any longer.
"Who are you?" She asked, clinging to her scratchy hospital blanket and drawing it toward her in fright.
"I'm FBI agent Mr. Connors and this is my partner, Mr. Sutton. We wanted to ask you a few questions about the other night?" Sam asked, pulling up a chair. She jumped at the noise it made dragging across the floor.
"I've aleady talked to the newspapers." She said irritably.
"Yeah, well, they're not the professionals, are they?" Dean asked, and Sam shot him the usual be nice look.
"Can you please tell us what happened that night, starting from the beginning?" Sam asked softly. Obviously, he wanted to do the talking for this one.
The girl sighed and knit her hands together nervously. "Well...I heard about this new movie from my boyfriend Ron, and we wanted to go together and have a little scare. We love the Drydens and love supporting local businesses, so we decided to go." She took a deep, shaky breath.
"So, we piled in and the movie started. Next thing I know, I'm filled with the most fear I've ever felt in my life, and I can't see anything. I hear everyone screaming around me, I heard that Ron's having an asthma attack. Then, people start screaming there's a fire! So, I somehow made it to the exit, but by then I had no idea where Ron had went, and I couldn't see a thing." She was frowning deeply, clasping and unclasping her hands.
"Anything else unusual? Did you smell sulfur while you were watching the movie, or see anything...?" Sam asked, and the girl suddenly gripped her blankets with two angry fists.
"My boyfriend just died and all you care about is if the theater smelled like rotten eggs? Is this some kind of sick joke? Give me your badges, I want to feel them!" She shrieked, furious. Sam didn't hestitate to give her his badge, which she ran her fingers over. She seemed to calm down a tiny bit.
"I didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. Until the movie started." She finally answered, stroking the badge as if it gave her reassurance.
"One last question. What was this movie about?" Dean piped up, a question she'd somehow failed to answer.
She screwed up her face, trying to recall. "I...I don't know. I can't remember." Sam shot him a look, lifting his eyebrows.
"Thank you so much for your cooperation, Miss Christianson." Sam finished, rising from his chair to leave. She looked more upset as they left.
"So, this is more of a movie issue then?" Dean asked, walking side by side with his brother down the hospital halls.
"I don't think so. She did smell sulfur- but she only remembers that subconsciously." Sam replied, and Dean raised his eyebrows at him.
"You read her mind?"
"It's easy once you get the hang of it. It could really be useful for the liars we get sometimes." He smirked at Dean in a very little brother way.
"You're such a little shit," Dean rolled his eyes, hiding his smile. "What else makes you think ghost?"
"She did say people were screaming fire: but there wasn't anything mentioning it burning again. I'm thinking this ghost is terrorizing people, but we don't know who or why."
"Should we hit the theaters then?"
"No, not just that. I think we should see the movie."
...
They cruised up the the cinemas, and the Dryden Cinemas wasn't very hard to miss. It had a huge, angular old-style overhang with broadway lights, but the faces were all blank, they must have taken the movie titles down and closed the place after the incident had happened.
They pulled into a spot and Dean noticed that even though the doors were closed, someone was inside behind the snack counter. They swiftly got out and strode up side-by-side to the theater, and Dean rapped on the glass door loudly with his knuckles.
The girl wearing her work uniform, a red vest and black pants, whipped her head up, startled. Dean quickly pulled his fake FBI I.D. out of his pocket and pressed it to the glass, pointing to it and raising his eyebrows. Sam quickly took his out and pressed it to the window as well.
Flustered, the girl came up and quickly unlocked the doors, swinging them open for them.
"I'm so sorry! I wasn't told anyone would be coming by," She said quietly, ushering them in. She looked extremely nervous, and her arms were trembling slightly.
"You alright, miss? You're shaking." Dean pointed out, giving her a suspicious glance. She looked up at him with wide, spooked eyes.
"Oh, sir, I- it's nothing like that. It's just, between the incident, all the investigations, newspapers coming by...no one's had time to clean the place. You know, of all the...blood..." Her face physically went paler as she said the word.
"I'm the youngest worker here, and I really don't want to lose this job. It's the only way I can fund for college. So, I have to do this if I want to keep my job," She said nervously. "Oh, please don't get my boss in trouble! He hasn't given me my paycheck yet, it's about six hundred dollars, and if he gets busted..."
"We'll keep that between you and us." Sam reassured her. She let out a relieved sigh. "I guess it wouldn't hurt to tell you they made me do the same thing last time, clean the nasty stuff away."
Both Sam and Dean brought their eyebrows together. "Last time?" They asked in unison.
"Well...about two months ago, someone came in and committed suicide." She physically shuddered, squeezing her eyes shut. "I knew him, too. His name was Lance Tallbot. I think he was really shaken up over Carol's death here. He did it in the same theater." She shuddered again.
"Carol is the girl who died in the fire, right?" Sam asked, a satisfied look on his face as he was figuring it out.
"Yeah. He really liked her, it was almost too much. Like an obsession." She shrugged, clearly creeped out by this Lance kid.
"Was that Carol's boyfriend?" Dean asked, and the girl almost looked disgusted.
"Oh, god no. Her boyfriend's name is Jay. Lance was kind of like her stalker."
"Jay survived, didn't he?" Sam asked again. Maybe they could talk to someone who was closer with the actual people who might be the culprits.
The girl bit her lips and looked to the floor. "I don't know how he's doing. He was taken to the hospital for a heart attack, he was here that night." She said, and Dean could almost physically see the Sam's face illuminate with insight.
"Can we take a look at the crime scene?" Dean asked quickly, Sam clearly wanted to talk to him.
"...Caro..gho'','..scr;.:aun;" ..." Dean screwed up his face as unintelligible bursts of sound ran through his mind as Sam probably unconciously was trying to tell him what was going on.
She fished out some keys and placed them in Dean's outstretched hand. "It's still not clean.." She said timidly.
"I've seen worse in my day," Dean asnwered, lightly putting a hand on Sam's shoulder and leading him away.
Right when they were out of earshot, Sam fired of his sentence in a slight whisper.
"Carol must be the one haunting this place. She must have seen her boyfriend who left her to die and freaked out. Ghosts can manipulate emotions; she must have wanted to scare him to death, but got the rest of the audience also."
"But that woman at the hospital said she wasn't afraid until the movie started. I think it would be safe to ask the girl who works here to play the movie, just to cover all the bases." Dean said, he wasn't exactly set on the whole ghost idea.
Sam had whipped out his phone and was checking something. "I found it- her body is buried in the local cemetery- Carol Andrews. Up for some grave-digging?" He asked, an Dean let out a puff of air. "Sam, we need to clear the movie."
Sam looked like he was thinking for a second. "We can split up. I'll head down to the cemetary for a good old salt and burn, and you can stay here and watch the movie. If anything goes wrong, you just need to call and I'll be able to fly here in seconds. Sound good?"
"Great. I'll call if something's up."
Sam quickly disappeared with the light flapping of feathers. Dean shuddered slightly- it still freaked him out a little that he could do that.
He didn't even need to ask twice for the girl to screen the movie for him. Next thing he knew, he was sitting alone in a dark theater, which still smelled faintly like blood, the beginning of apparently a movie so scary it made people blind themselves starting. So, basically a normal day for Dean Winchester.
He watched for fifteen minutes and nothing much seemed to be happening. In fact, the movie was Grade A shit. Dean stood up, stretched his legs and went to try and investigate further, the dim light coming from the flickering screen.
Suddenly, his whole body felt like it had been doused in cold water as he hit a cold spot. He sure wished there were some lights on right about now.
"Who are you? Why are watching a movie in the place that I died?" Dean heard a chillingly hollow voice behind him. He whipped around and saw a high school age girl in blackened clothing and burnt skin walking toward him.
Before he could answer, he saw another ghost appear. It was a scrawny and nerdy-looking kid with huge grandpa glasses and zitty cheeks, a bullethole and bloom of blood in his chest.
"Carol, want to tear this dumbass up with me?" He asked in a geeky voice. Dean had no doubt that this had to be Lance. There's two hauntings? He thought to himself. He quickly whipped out his phone and texted Sam.
"2 gho. Car & Lanc. S&B both." He quickly sent it, and whipped his head up to see what the teenage ghosts were doing next as he rapidly tried to look for the exit.
"I hate you!" Carol shrieked, and suddenly Dean felt a sharp lick of the very uncharacteristic feeling of complete fear. "You set the fire that night!"
She launched herself at the boy and Dean felt another huge surge of fear as their energies went flying.
"It was meant for Jay! I wanted you to myself! And now I have you!" Dean was almost repulsed himself. Carol screeched and began to try to rake her fingernails down his face in fury. The two ghosts continued to fiercely battle, and Dean was suddenly overcome with pure fear, feeling it deep within his soul and body.
A ghost with venegence against people could be one thing, but ghosts who wanted both people and another ghost to pay could be a problem. And obviously, these two specters hated each other. No wonder it had been such an issue-both ghosts wanted to kill each other, but both of them refused to die.
The fear they sent out into the atmosphere had Dean falling to his knees and curling up into a little ball, screaming. His heartbeat sped up and he could hear the blood pounding in his ears, throbbing in his temples. It took all the willpower he had to not claw his eyes out, but he did drag his fingernails down his cheeks as complete and total fear consumed him.
It wasn't only the pure emotion. Scenarios climbed into his mind, his worst fears. Sam getting murdered right in front of him, and not being able to do anything. Cas being killed by the kids, then having them turn around and become unstoppable monsters. Recollections of hell creeped into his mind like bile. He'd gotten his own device, and heaven was going to force him to kill and destroy everything he loved...
He wasn't sure how long this flesh-crawling fear lasted, but suddenly it was significantly less as he looked up and saw the creepy boy incinerate and fall into orange embers. Thank you, Sam.
Instead of looking relieved, the remaining ghost looked infuriated as the kid whose throat she was wringing suddenly disinigrated. "I was supposed to be the one to kill him!" She shrieked, having a full-blown venegence attack. Suddenly, the walls began to crack and crumble and spurts of fire began to ignite around her as she began to burn herself out of all her ghostly energy, hair whipping around her face and her eyes burning with revenge and hate.
She screamed and made a yanking motion, and Dean was barely able to see when she dissolved into embers. Suddenly, hundreds of thick chunks of concrete were falling all around him and on him, spilling and cascading out from the wall, the ghost's last act of revenge.
Dean felt horrible pain as limbs got crushed, pinning him down. He was forced to breathe in all the concrete dusk that had kicked into the air. He couldn't move as more blocks tumbled around him still, finally blacking out as a heavy chunk of concrete bashed his head in.
Dean barely registered anything as he felt like he was floating, somehow knowing that he was being dragged. His head swam as he felt unimaginable pain on his skull. He felt like maybe his head had been crushed. If he had been human, no doubt he would have been killed. He felt the world spinning as he struggled to open his eyes. He heard people talking, but he wasn't sure if it was just Sam desperately trying to get through to him through their bond, and having it finally work.
"Think he's far enough away?" He heard a pleasant sounding young voice, his voice was somewhat high in pitch but slightly rough, making it sound very boyish.
"I don't know. We don't have much time before he'll wake up." Dean heard a different voice this time. His was clearly young, but it was clear as a bell and rich. He'd be a good speech deliverer, Dean thought hazily to himself. Finally he somewhat came closer to his senses. Wait. Who were these two people? Were they rescuing him? Why?
He struggled but was able to open his eyes just a sliver. He was met with the image of a head of pitch-black hair, he didn't see their face as he looked down and dragged him backward.
"Cas...?" Dean asked woozily, only realizing after he'd uttered it that it was completely inpossible. Plus, in no way did either of the voices sound like the angel he knew so well.
The dark-haired kid was dragging him by his shirt a bit farther away from the blazing fire, as the other kid, who Dean couldn't see, was clearing the rubble off of him.
"RJ! He's awake!" Dean heard that boyish voice call out in an alarmed tone, the kid he couldn't see. The dark-haired teen immediately brought his hands to his face, trying to conceal his identity, dropping Dean a few inches with a thunk. The wind was knocked out of him and Dean wheezed to breathe.
"Oh, shit!" The teen hissed, turning and trying to make sure Dean didn't see him. Dean felt black stars swirl and pop into his vision.
"He's not safe yet!" The other, boyish voice insisted. Dean closed his eyes and felt the heat from the flames pinch his cheeks. His head swam.
"Dammit, leave him!" The other teenager demanded, and Dean tried to stay conscious as the two turned quickly and began to sprint away, he could only see their backs as their legs pumped quickly and each footfall clacked on the concrete floors. They were pretty damn speedy, like they were used to running like this.
Dean felt a wave of goosebumps rush down his body as he saw that these two boys, both tall, lean teenagers, one with pitch black hair and the other with fair, golden-blonde hair, were heading the absolute wrong direction.
"Stop! Wrong way!" Dean called out hoarsely, but it was much too quiet to reach them. He watched in horror as the two sprinted directly into the orange wall of flames, not even faltering in their long-gaited sprint as the fire swallowed them both. Dean felt his head spinning, and suddenly someone was helping him up.
"Sam! Sam, you have to help them!" Dean insisted, almost feeling delirious as Sam pulled him to stand upright.
"Help who, Dean? What are you talking about?" Sam demanded, surprised by his brother's urgent tone.
" Those kids! There were two kids, they just dragged me out! Then they ran- they ran straight into that fire!" He insisted, grabbing at Sam's shirt that was grimy with graveyard soil. Sam seemed to be concentrating hard, thinking deeply as he narrowed his eyes.
"No one is here except us, Dean. And beyond that fire is only another concrete wall, there's nowhere they could have gone."
Dean shook his head, his skull throbbed. "No, they were here! I swear! They dragged me out, they saved me! You have to help them!"
Sam knit his eyebrows together and brought his hand up to Dean's skull, and he clearly felt the gigantic dent in it. He shot off a blast of healing energy, and it started to repair itself, along with the other crushed parts of his body.
Dean suddenly found himself in the passenger's seat of their car. Sirens were wailing as the fire engine was rushing to the rescue, and billows of dark smoke were climbing into the darkening sky.
Sam quickly turned on the car and pulled out of their spot, speeding down the road. Hell no, they would not be caught and tried for arson and impersonating FBI agents.
"Sam, go back! We have to help those kids!" Dean insisted. He tried to remember what they looked like, but his head had been damaged. He remembered their heads of black and blonde hair. Wait-one of them said a nickname. AJ? Something like that. He wanted to know who they were, he needed to thank them.
Sam's face fell into one of concern. "Maybe we shouldn't have you hunting so soon after all that. You did just find out you're part angel and going to be a dad in the same week." Sam said sympathetically, Dean hated that he was looking at him like he'd lost his mind.
"Fine, Sam! Don't believe me? Read my damn mind, then! Tell me what I saw wasn't real!" He stared down Sam, waiting him for tell him he was right. Sam paused for a second.
"Maybe there were kids that helped you. Still, they got out of there fine. I scanned it, Dean. No one was there," He reassured him. He quickly changed the subject. "We both need a shower. Let's rent a motel tonight, okay? You can sleep in a real bed for once." Sam offered, shoving him his cell phone to look up the closest and cheapest motels.
"Fine." Dean replied moodily, typing in the search into the phone and seeing a few pins drop in possible places to stay. At least Sam admitted he wasn't going crazy. There was a pause as Dean plugged in directions on how to get there.
"Dean, you've got a lot on your mind. Just try to relax for a little, just for tonight." Sam tried to calm him down. Dean could tell he knew how nervous and anxious he was about the events lately that had flipped his world upside down. He only shoved the phone back at Sam with the directions. Yeah, he'd told him he could talk to him about anything, but since when had Dean really done that?
He was worried sick about Cas, and the kids, especially since he couldn't keep an eye on them anymore. Castiel could be puking his guts out right now and he'd never know. He was scared at how these kids were killing him, consuming anything he had. He was scared that he'd lose both of them if Castiel ran out of energy. Or it would be even worse if only the boys survived- he could never love the things that killed his best friend.
"You okay?" Sam asked him after a long silence, Dean had been thinking and not talking at all. He nodded, watching the street lamps as they passed by quickly. "Fine," he replied, clearly expressing that he didn't want to talk.
They finally reached the motel, and Sam let Dean shower first, seeing that he'd want to drop off to bed as soon as he could. Dean tried to let the water wash away his toxic worries as he let the warm water slip over his scalp and down his body. It warmed him up and cleaned him, but that was about it. He didn't really feel mentally better whatsoever.
He scrubbed his face dry, sighing loudly into the towel. He tried to shave the scruff from his face really quickly, not caring if he was still a little stubbly. He checked to make sure the sigil was still on his iris- sure enough, it was still there. He stumbled into boxers and collapsed onto the bed, groaning as it had been the first bed he'd touched in a little under a year.
He was exhausted, and too tired to worry about the special surprise waiting for him on the other side this time. His mind drifted as he nodded off to sleep: he thought about those kids again. How did they know where he was? How did they get there in time? Why had they saved him anyways?
AJ, KJ, JJ? He struggled to remember the nickname one had called the other. He needed to remember just that one bit of information, and maybe he'd be able to piece together the picture.
Suddenly, the information fell into his mind. RJ. It was RJ, he remembered. Ar-jay, he tried to sound it out. That had to be it. He felt his mind getting hazier as his goal had been accomplished. He would find them, and he would thank them.
Cas, hold on, buddy. He felt himself silently praying as he dropped to sleep. You'll be okay. Take good care of Leoniel and Robert John for me.
Please review! I love suggestions: they get my mind rolling and building up amazing ideas! Thanks the Firesinger for the suggestion of them continuing their hunting job as part-angels, got my new ideas to pop into my head! I love any questions, guesses, and even criticism :)
