Ok guys, here is Chapter 9. I hope you like it. Please R&R. Oh and as always I don't own the Winchester's more's the pity :).
Chapter 9:- Blinded by fear
Dean pressed his eyes shut as Sam held his arms out towards him, blood dripping from his tortured young face, scratches and cuts etched into his body. A shadow stood behind him ready to strike as Sam shouted, "Why didn't you protect me? Why didn't you save me? Why didn't you see this coming?"
Dean held out his hands trying to reach him, trying to wrap his arms around him protectively, desperately, but Sam was out of reach. He stepped forwards trying to grab him, but with every step, his brother seemed further away. His heart pounded in his chest as he broke into a run, his bare feet beating down on the dusty earth beneath him. Sam was disappearing into the darkness quicker than he could run, but his screams he could still hear deafeningly.
His eyes tore around the darkness as he stood panting, left alone, the darkness consuming him. "No!" he cried, as he threw out his arms, fumbling for anything in the darkness. His eyes widened, straining against the eternal blackness. "SAMMY!"
Dean woke with a violent start, his body shaking uncontrollably, drenched in a cold sweat as fear clambered to seize control. His breathing was ragged as Sam's cries reverberated around his ears. His eyes, pressed firmly together, tried to block out the voice within him screaming that he couldn't protect his family that he would fail to see the danger before it was too late and he'd be left all alone.
As the shaking began to subside and his body tried to relax, he opened his eyes. Squinting against the darkness, he realised he must have been asleep for hours. Leaning over the bedside table, he fumbled for the lamp. Flicking it on, he froze. Turning it off and on again, he rubbed his eyes, panic beginning to well up in the pit of his stomach.
He heard someone open the door and enter the room. Squinting hard, he looked over desperately trying to make out who was standing before him, fear creeping up his spine making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.
"Hey," a voice Dean recognised said, as he flicked on the light switch.
"Sam," Dean breathed.
"I see this place hasn't gotten any better," Sam smirked, as he lay a grocery bag down on the table, gazing disdainfully round the room.
Dean turned his head round the room. "Guess not," he replied, trying to keep his voice even as terror and anxiety seized control of his chest. He turned his head back to where he hoped Sam still was.
Sam, noticing Dean was gazing over his right shoulder, turned before looking back, concern crossing his face. "You okay?"
Dean noting the concern in his voice said, "Yeah man, course," trying to make his voice sound unworried. He angled his head slightly, praying he was looking at his brother, desperately trying to pinpoint him with his ears.
"Yeah, I'm not buying it," Sam said, looking down at his brother who was sat on the edge of his bed staring blankly at his chest. "What's wrong?"
"I umm … I've got something in my eyes," Dean said, making an attempt to rub them clean.
Sam waved a hand in front of his eyes, Dean not blinking. "Can't you see me?" Sam started in alarm, as he crouched down in front of his brother.
The demon, who had snuck out of the room on hearing the door handle turning, smiled from his hiding place in the bathroom. Closing his glinting eyes again, he allowed his mind to travel deep inside the elder Winchester's fears, whispering again to his subconscious and this time taking control of Dean's senses.
Dean jerked violently as Sam gently touched his brother's face. His ears rang with his brother's bloodcurdling screams. He flung himself off the bed as he fumbled around desperately trying to find him, pushing the darkness away.
Sam watched frozen in horror as his brother stumbled around, his hands flailing in the air as his face contorted with fear. He sat paralysed as Dean cried out, "Sammy where are you? I'll protect you; I won't let anything happen to you ever again!"
Within Dean, the demon grinned as he watched the barriers Dean had spent years trying to build, crumble as he toyed with his mind.
Sam, snapping out of his trance, lunged forwards, grabbing his brother and wrapping his arms around him, desperately trying to stop Dean's violent struggles.
"Dean, it's me, I'm here. I'm fine."
Dean continued to struggle violently against him as he yelled incoherently.
He couldn't find Sam. Though the darkness had lifted slightly, he still couldn't find him. All he could hear were his frantic cries. He turned his head rapidly trying to pinpoint his brother. From the shadows, something jumped out tackling him to the floor, trying to tie him up. "No get off me," he yelled, struggling against the shadow that tried to overpower him. "I have to save him, I have to help him."
"DEAN!" Sam shouted, as his brother's body writhed under his grip, his body drenched in anxious sweat. "Come on, wake up!"
He pinned his brother down, trying to restrain him as one of Dean's fists connected with his ribs, making him gasp for air. Reaching desperately for his duffle bag, which he had dropped by the door, with his leg, he dragged it towards him, tipping the contents out over the floor.
Kicking a set of handcuffs towards him, he dragged a flailing Dean across the room to the old iron radiator and cuffed him to the pipe, wiping the beads of sweat off his own brow. Tying rope around his brother's feet as one collided viciously with his stomach; he fell back from him, exhausted. He eyed his brother cautiously, who struggled against the restrains in vain, cursing as he nursed his bruised lower ribs.
The demon within Dean smelled the delicious sensation of absolute fear as its victim's body convoluted and contorted. Sighing contently, it released control of Dean's senses allowing him to collapse with exhaustion.
From inside the bathroom, the demon opened its eyes grinning, its hunger fulfilled if only for a short time. Taking one last look through the crack in the door, it swept out of the bathroom window and into the night, leaving Dean lying weak and broken on the floor, silent tears running freely down his face.
Looking down at his brother's drained face, Sam watched anxiously as Dean fell quiet. Crawling slowly towards him, nursing his injured ribs, he cupped Dean's face in his hands.
"Dean. Dean! You okay buddy?"
Dean cracked his eyes open, desperate to believe his brother was alive. His whole body ached as he shuddered against the darkness that eclipsed his vision. "I've felt better," he coughed, listening closely to Sam, trying to make out from his voice whether he was hurt. "You okay? I saw the demon coming towards you."
Sam watched, torn as Dean looked straight passed him. Trying not to let sadness show in his voice, not wanting to upset his brother anymore, he braved a smile, saying, "I'm fine, apart from the well timed blows you landed on me."
"But the demon that killed mum and Jess, it was about to jump you!"
"Dean," Sam sighed. "There was no demon. I came into the room and you freaked."
But … I thought … The other demon?" he muttered, remembering the reason they were here.
"Don't worry about it. I think you must have played your role as bait a little too well," he grinned, patting Dean on the back reassuringly.
"Oh great, now I'm playing the damsel in distress! Give me a tutu and pigtails and you've got yourself your very own sister."
Sam grinned, thinking, 'Sarcasm, great. He'll be fine.'
"Now if I unchain you, do you promise to behave?" he said, his voice light and as happy as the situation allowed.
Dean made to swat him with the back of his hand, stopping as the chain tautened around his wrist. Grinning, he said, "Let me up man, my ass is killing me."
Sam, complying, scoured the floor for the key to the handcuffs. Undoing them gently, he turned his attention to the rope that bound his brother's legs, cutting through it with a knife. He lifted him to his feet. "How you doing?" he muttered as Dean tried to steady himself using the wall and his brother for support.
"This blindness thing is a bitch," he muttered in reply, as he tried to find his centre, his body still disorientated from the assault on his senses.
"I bet," Sam smiled sadly. "I reckon we should get you checked out at the hospital."
"Hell no," Dean started jumpily. "That would be like walking back into the lion's den after taking a pounding!"
Sam grinned. "Nice uses of simile, but you don't get a say in this."
"But-"
"No buts. We need to get those eyes sorted out. If we don't, you won't be in any state to hunt – ever."
Dean, who has opened his mouth to protest, shut it sharply, thinking 'What will I do if I can't hunt.'
Sam smiled, knowing he'd hit a nerve. His brother would be unbearable to live with if he couldn't hunt, and what would he do. He needed a back up, and his father wasn't exactly reliable.
Against Dean's protests that he could manage to walk across the parking lot by himself, Sam walked beside him, nudging him around obstacles as he lead the way to the Impala.
Opening the passenger side door, he pushed Dean into the seat, closing the door behind him as he walked round to the driver's door. Starting up the engine he put it into gear and pulled out onto the main road heading for the hospital.
