.-.-.-.Monster in the Closet.-.-.-.
Summary:
Somewhere in Colorado, children from 3 families have gone missing, can the boys find out what's going on before forgotten memories come back to haunt them, more specifically – Dean. Flashbacks gonna happen.
I have to say, I am really pleased with the attention this story has been receiving and I can only thank you all because what good is a story with someone to tell it to?
Thanks to JayneFaire who gave me a suggested way of updating my story - seen as wouldn't let me upload.
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9. Fragmented Memories
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Present Day
Sam was silent as Bobby let out another sigh, indicating that it was 'story time'. Dean just continued to look on questioningly and Sam was actually kind of thankful that he wouldn't be able to hear this, that way he'd get to question Dean about it after.
"Started nearly twenty years ago when me and your Daddy were working a hunt together. A bunch of nine year olds went missing and we thought it was a local thing to do with local kids, we never expected it –" He looked down at his feet, hand held tightly around the phone. He hated remembering that hunt because he hated remembering the effect it had on John and his boys. He would always hate seeing the Winchesters like that because deep down inside, they were such good people.
"What happened?"
"We didn't know what it was at first. If we had any idea…" Bobby swallowed, "The thing came and it took Dean."
Sam felt like he'd been winded, his eyes looked over at Dean who was still trying to hear what was being said and again, he was thankful that Dean couldn't, "It what?"
"It took him, Sam. Damn near broke your Dad."
"Where did it take him?"
Dean's brow furrowed at the one way conversation he was getting, "Sam?"
"Back to its home. It was like some sort of hell. I'm not surprised he blocked it all out. Or you."
"Me?"
"Well kid, one major problem about this creature. Only children can see it. Me and your Daddy had no chance fighting blind and so we had to use your help."
"Wait… only children? Then how come he saw it tonight?"
"I dunno but it's not safe for you boys, especially Dean."
"Bobby, what do you mean?" The line filled with static before he got to hear Bobby's answer though. It was the sound that you got when you passed through a tunnel but Sam was pretty sure that neither he nor Bobby were currently passing through any tunnels, not unless motels could sprout legs or wheels.
Sam looked down at his phone and was surprised by the fact that he suddenly had no reception. He just kept staring at his phone, praying silently that the reception would just suddenly come back and Bobby would call. Dean woke him from the trance as he began to speak.
"Sam, what did he say?"
"He er… He knows what we're dealing with."
"And?"
Sam looked over at Dean, his gaze studying him, "And Dad's dealt with it before. Dean, I need you to be honest with me. Do you remember anything about this?"
"About what? You think if I knew Dad had hunted this thing before I'd keep it from you? It was probably one of those times he dumped us at Pastor Jims or some place."
"No…" Sam shook his head, "We were there, Bobby said. He was there too. Dean, he said – he said that it took you."
"What?" Dean asked, thinking about the one way conversation – Where did it take him? that's what Sam had asked, "Took me? Took me where?"
"I dunno. Bobby said back to its home. He said it was like hell."
"Sam, I don't remem…" Dean started to say, but he felt a shiver run down his spine. He felt cold and he was sure he'd heard something. His eyes snapped over to the closet door. It was ajar. Without really thinking about his actions, he crossed over the beds and slammed the door shut before reaching for a chair and sliding it under the handle and jamming it into a position that would stop the door from being opened again.
"Dean?" Sam walked over to his brother as he sat on the edge of the bed, he was breathing heavily, too heavily for what he'd just done. No, his heavy breathing was from panic, Sam was sure, "You alright?"
"Yeah. I'm fine. Just don't want any unwelcome visitors." Dean put his head in his hands and took a deep calming breath, trying to steady himself. When he pulled his hands away, Sam immediately grabbed his right wrist, "Hey! What the…?"
Sam turned the hand over and Dean saw what Sam had seen. He had a cut across his palm and it was bleeding, he looked at the chair accusingly, he knew he'd caught his hand on the sharp part but he didn't realise it had made him bleed. And damn it - that must mean some of the blood was on his face.
"Let me sort this out." Sam said, well, ordered really and he disappeared into the bathroom, probably getting the first aid kit.
Dean stared at his palm as it began to sting, as the blood just kept oozing out he suddenly felt sick.
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March 1988
"No." Dean begged, still trying to pull away from the creature but he just felt too weak. What had it done to him to make him feel that way? He searched the dark ground near by for any type of weapon but it was empty. There was nothing.
"Shhhh..." The creature mocked, still keeping a firm grip on Dean's wrist and now stroking Dean's hair with the other hand, "It's okay. You needn't worry. You're not like the others."
"Leave me alone you freak!" Dean spat, his words childish and full of fear but also of strength.
"Never." It whispered and smiled, finally releasing its hold on him.
Dean immediately started backing away, his limbs moving more freely now, and he just kept backing away until he made contact with the cold wet wall behind him. Now with the adrenaline pumping through his system his senses started working overtime and he felt himself gag on the putrid smell that filled the air. He had to force the bile back down his throat; he rolled onto his knees, in position just in case it decided to come back up.
His hand touched something sticky and now that his eyes finally adjusted to the dark, he saw a crimson pool beneath him. He stood up and stumbled away, frantically searching the small room he was in. His breathing quickened, as did his heart rate and he felt his mind reeling, spinning. A strong feeling of claustrophobia and he was sure the walls were moving in, but they weren't. And that stench was getting stronger. What the hell was it? What could smell that foul?
He kept stumbling, running his hands along the wet walls, searching for a way out, searching for something, anything. But the something he found was not the something he wanted. It was a child, the same age as him, eyes blankly staring ahead. It wasn't until Dean went to shake the child for some response that he realised it was dead. Was this what was going to happen to him?
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Present Day
Shaking uncontrollably, Dean ran towards the bathroom, pushing past Sam and falling to the floor just in front of the toilet. And then he started to hurl. Every last piece of anything that was inside his stomach came back up and ended up filling the toilet. The smell didn't help him control his nausea, but finally, ten minutes later he flushed it all away and unsteadily stood up to rinse him mouth out and splash his face with cold water.
"Dean?" Sam asked; first aid kit still in hand. He'd lent against the wall next to the bathroom, not wanting to disturb Dean because he knew the answer he'd have gotten but not Dean was finished.
Whether he was just ignoring the concerned Sam or whether was just too preoccupied to hear him, Dean didn't reply. He just made his way over to his bed and sat down, his head once again in his hands.
"Dean, what's wrong?"
"M'fine." Dean mumbled.
"You were just throwing your guts up for no reason. That's far from fine." Sam knelt down in front of his brother and dragged his right hand out, it still needed cleaning and dressing. The movement caused Dean to fall forward slightly but he caught himself and made himself comfortable once again, just letting Sam deal with the wound.
"If this has anything to do with that creature, I need to know." Sam said, pressing on the wound a little harder than he needed to.
Dean didn't want to talk about it. That snippet of memory had been enough to make him physically sick and he didn't want to think about it but those dead hollow eyes of the little boy kept flashing in front of his minds eye, "Please… Sam." He pleaded.
Sam glanced over at the closet door and the chair jammed into place, this case was getting too personal. "Tell me."
Dean shook his head and opened his mouth; he didn't know how to tell him. He followed Sam's gaze over to chair.
"Then at least tell me why you did that." Sam said.
Dean continued to stare at the door, the creature's words circling in his mind – "I'll be back for you." He forced his eyes away and focused them on the floor instead, but he couldn't help remembering those other words either, from the memory or waking nightmare, whatever it had been – His desperate plea of "Leave me alone you freak!" and it's reply of "Never."
"I don't want to talk about it Sam."
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