Chapter 10

Sam didn't reach for his gun, Sam didn't move. Still he remained, watching his brother poise to shoot. Dean always looked so damn awesome in this position. Just like the kick ass hunter he was. So alert and prepared, his game face never wavering. Sam wondered what he looked like when he was about to shoot something's head off. He felt the same, but really, who knew? He'd never been all that great with self awareness. Maybe he just looked like a douche, a try hard douche.

'Sam, get your gun.' It was an order. Dean sounded exactly like their father. Only instead of obliging, Sam's eyes fell to the kitchen drawer. He racked his brain desperate to remember the last time he saw one open by itself like this. It intrigued him, made him tilt his head like some curious puppy.

'What the hell?' Dean dashed around the counter, slamming it shut with an almighty bang as he pulled the trigger at the empty space in front of them. Utensils crashed together while they stood motionless. Maybe Dean got the thing. That would be cool.

Or maybe not.

A sweeping icy wind blew past them at rapid speed. The ugly, brown curtain clattered and shook on the bent brassy rod and the hanging light bulb swerved madly, maybe even a little sarcastically. Lately, to Dean, everything felt like it was laughing at them. Even a frickin' dusty light bulb. It was beginning to get on his last nerve.

Sam, although vowing never to admit it, found some pleasure in the coldness sweeping over him. It made his sticking damp hair feel a little lighter and made his sweat a little cooler.

He didn't think much about the light bulb.

'What is this thing?' Dean spun around, trying to locate the invisible being whizzing around like a manic mosquito frantic for human blood. The whooshing air offered some indication of its whereabouts but it was so damn quick Dean feared shooting again would do nothing but only get the thing riled. They needed a plan, but first they needed to do some damn research. 'Let's get out of here.'

It was a simple solution yet one Sam held in high regard. If this was just another normal day, he'd stay and keep shooting at it, probably until all the rock salt was gone and they held in their hands nothing but weapons simply not designed to kill invisible monsters whose main ambition was to tease and then destroy them. If you couldn't kill the thing immediately, coming up with a plan allowed for a better outcome. Good idea.

As Dean hurried Sam along, he scooped up his keys and cell from the bench. The rest would wait. He felt for his wallet in his back pocket and when positive it was on him, continued to push his brother's back towards the door. Sam felt like telling him if he remembered anything, he remembered how to walk but refrained. As it stood now, he was humoring, so he might as well go the whole way and appease Dean sufficiently.

The door opening with ease shocked Dean and surprised Sam. Both expected a lock down. To have to kick it in for their chance of escape. This thing was making it easy for them. They didn't have time to appreciate the gesture. Dean shoved his brother out of the room and called out to Bobby while rushing to the Impala. 'Get in.'

Bobby? No, the old man wasn't a part of this.

'You got to keep with me Sam.'

Was he really clicking his fingers? That won't send me flying back to reality Dean. It's going to take more than that.

'Get in the car. Hurry up.'

Just Dean and him. No one else. Not Bobby, not Ruby, not dad.

Oh yeah. Ruby and dad were dead. Okay then, not Bobby. Just Dean.

'What is up with you?' Dean's eyes brimmed over with nervous tension, almost flashing from fiery green to burning yellow. He frowned through the window confused. Should he jump in and drive, race over to Bobby's room and help the man out or smash through the motel room and try again to kill that invisible supernatural son of a bitch alone? So many options, so little answers.

And what was the deal with Sam? He seemed off guard.

'It's a defense mechanism.' Sam told him matter-of-factly, pulling the seat belt across his torso.

Dean shook his head and blinked. 'What is?'

'What I'm doing.' He told him before adding with a slight nod. 'Or what I'm not doing.'

And the decision was made. Dean's foot pumped metal before the door fully closed. 'Here's the plan. We get two more rooms at this other motel I saw before, we keep those ones so no one else has to deal with that crazy crap and we go back tomorrow night when we know what we're dealing with and kill that freaky invisible thing. What do you think?'

Sam nodded.

'Okay. Call Bobby and tell him to pack up his stuff and get the hell out of there. We'll call him when we have a proper address.'

Sam played along interested to see where all this was going. Invisible was genius really. Throwing them up against the unknown, unable to see what they were dealing with. Like really, how do you Google 'nothing'? You can't. Brilliant.

Speaking to Bobby was easier when he wasn't in the same room staring at you like you are the most disgusting disappointment to ever grace the earth. Dean calling out little extra tidbits of information here and there also helped. Speaker phones had their uses. It turned more into an exchange between the other two in the end leaving Sam sitting back silent and grateful. Maybe they should always use speaker phones. Sam was up for that.

Another crappy, beat down motel came into view alongside a grassy hill of the main road. Sam didn't believe a word when his brother informed him it was probably better than their last one. Not by the looks of it, but he didn't expect any different, nor did he mind. By age seven, all motel rooms blurred into one. This, he thought, had to be the longest day ever so ultimately, he smiled, happy to accept anything. All he wanted was a bed so he could pretend to sleep. Enjoy the time to both think about wild stuff and zone out in the quiet dark.

Bliss.

oOoOoOo

'Longest frigging day ever.' Dean sighed lying back on his wobbly bed by the window. Sam smirked at the similarity in their thoughts as he pulled off his boots. Pretty amateur that was. Pretty lame. He preferred more complex perplexity. Something to keep his mind running. If he was going to do this, he wanted to do it right. There were prerequisites.

'So what room is Bobby in?' Sam asked his tense brother.

'Nineteen. Not as close. Around the corner.' Good. 'So Sam...' .' Dean sat up, stretched out his back and massaged his neck. If this headache would go, it would not be too soon. 'This defense mechanism thing? What did you mean?'

'Just to be okay with it all, you know?' It was hard to talk about it when he knew what it meant. A whole lot of nothing. Maybe that was a sign; that thing back in the motel room. Couldn't see it, couldn't hear it, could just feel it. It was nothing, just a feeling.

'No, I have no idea.'

With a sigh, Sam stood up and tore off his shirt. Still way too hot. Especially in this uncooled room, but peeling down the blankets didn't turn him off the idea of covering himself with them as soon as he slid in. 'Everyone needs something. Just like you. You have your own.'

'My own defense mechanism?'

'Yeah. You have lots of them. Probably more than me.'

Another pillow. One wasn't enough. Maybe in the cupboard.

Two in the cupboard. Great.

Sam threw one over to his bed and the other to his brother. 'Thanks.' Dean said distracted - processing some kind of thought. 'You've lost me.'

'It's late. Maybe it will make more sense in the morning.'

'Yeah maybe.' Dean wasn't convinced. Sam's weirdness was becoming weirder and he didn't much enjoy the out of character peace visibly washing over his brother's face when the time came for Sam to switch off the lamp. Nor did he like the idea of all those blankets smothering his newly healed body.

'It's hot.' Dean spoke carefully. 'Just use the sheet if you have to use anything.' Sometimes playing the big brother card annoyed him as much as it annoyed Sam but sometimes the risk was too great not to. Once he heard the younger man kick off his blankets he scanned the room. Maybe not pitch black but this room was a room tucked in a garden corner with no neon signs bursting through a break in the curtains like many others. This, much to Dean's dismay, made the room way too dark. He gave it a moment and listened. Then another. The very first hint of skin scraping against sheet he leant over to the bedside table and switched on the lamp.

Sam blinked a little, attempting to refocus. 'What's wrong?' Was the thing in here? Was there a sound he missed? Did it follow them here? Probably. It would make sense.

'Nothing.' Dean half-smiled both wearily and serenely.

'Then...?'

'Let's just sleep with the light on.'

oOoOoOo

Alone Dean and Sam sat, guns loaded, weapons on the bed by their sides, research completed. Answers and solutions not forthcoming but purpose and determination a-plenty. At least with Dean. Bobby stood by in room number nineteen at the other motel, laptop on hand, ready for calls to be fed further information for the sole purpose of feeding more back. They just needed something to happen. Just to get more of an idea. Just so Dean could end this thing and rid the world of one more monster polluting God's green earth.

It was dark. It was after ten and it was boring. The more hours that past the more restless Sam became, even and maybe especially in spite of Dean's constant demands to stay with him. This confused Sam. He was here wasn't he? Sitting, holding his gun, at least acting alert and ready. Did it matter if he fidgeted a little when absolutely nothing was happening? He thought not. Yet, he didn't complain; just made the effort to sit straighter, breathe in deeper and appear more dedicated to the cause.

Until he didn't realize the increasing slump in his shoulders, the interest in his stunted fingernails and the tapping of his foot.

'Sam!'

'What?'

Same thing. His mind used to be sharp. It probably still would be under any other situation. But this situation? It was hard to concentrate.

BANG!

Dean shot up searching for the stem of sound. Gun pointing up, down, to the left and then to the right. Sam imitated for appearance sake. Just to save any argument, only half interested in locating this inconvenient being.

'Come on you bitch!' Dean yelled into thin air still quick with his movements as he stalked the ten steps into the kitchen. 'Show yourself! Sam stay behind me.'

Why? What was that going to do? Shouldn't he stay exactly where he was to cover all areas? Doesn't matter. Sam followed watching Dean's actions more than his surroundings. Lucky Dean couldn't see him. He wouldn't be happy with that. Sam figured it best to at least pretend to want this thing as dead as Dean did. You know, he thought to himself, for appearance sake.

BANG! An invisible sound from across the other side of the room, near the door, close to the window. Dean whirled around, banging into the barrier that was Sam Winchester.

'Sam!' He didn't have the time or a margin for fumbling.

'You told me to stay behind you.'

Dean pushed past him and before Sam could take a step, Dean once again shouted an order. 'Stay behind me.'

'That's what I was doing and you-'

'Come on.'

Dean's confusion escalated. Nothing dropped. These bangs; they resulted from nothing and ended in less. He figured he should just shoot the place down just to get a possible and lucky hit. If his brother wasn't an inch away doing his best uncoordinated, awkward shuffle of a dance, he might have just gone right ahead and done so too.

Whoosh.

A shot fired.

A Winchester dropped.

The other Winchester yelled; the job suddenly touching him. 'Dean!'

'Why did you shoot me?' Dean was annoyed and hurting. Of all the dumbass things for his brother to do.

'Sorry.' Sam sighed in regretful relief while holding a hand out to help him up. If Dean was berating him, all was fine. He grabbed hold of his hand and Sam pulled him up with more strength than he knew he had. 'You okay?'

'No.' Dean frowned clutching his injured shoulder. Felt like shattered bones. That shot was close range. Dammit to hell. This is the frickin' last thing they needed. 'Do not shoot unless I tell you to or you see the thing okay? And –' Dean rolled his shoulder just to see if he could. 'Do not shoot me.'

'Okay. I know. Sorry.'

'You do know. So do what you know, okay?'

'Dean.' Sam glared behind his brother and swallowed. This being, this thing, this monster was no longer invisible. It stood directly behind Dean, snarling and smirking at the younger Winchester. Without hesitation, Dean twirled a half circle and shot into its smarmy, skeevy face.

A twitch of a finger was all it took to fling Dean across the room crashing into the table and breaking two chairs. Dean was down, the smashed timber lying heavy on top of him. This thing didn't suffer a bruise from the shot. Sam raised his gun, pointed it in its chest and pulled the trigger.

'I'm not a ghost.' The thing chuckled recovering from the non-effective force. Sam knew it wasn't a ghost but he forgot. Forgot what to do next. He glanced at Dean who once again struggled to stand to fight back. Broken bones often did not stop him and this was no exception. The thing should know this. It didn't. When it took a step towards him, Sam took a step back. He wasn't scared. Only he was a little, but also a bit fascinated.

First things first though; Dean.

'It's okay.' Sam told him. 'Just stay there.' His own voice even reassured himself somewhat. Somehow. 'I got this.'

You got nothing, Dean thought in a controlled panic as the monster that looked eerily like any other human gained on his brother. Dean was up. The thing waved a hand without looking back as it stalked towards the reversing Sam hurling Dean flat against the wall under the window.

'It's okay.' Sam told his brother again calmly. 'It's not real. You're fine.'

'It is real! This is real!' Jesus Christ. This is what this was? Dean thrashed some more knowing without a single doubt he had to get vertical and fast. Sam was in no position to fight this and win. The reality of the situation clearly blurred to him.

'It's just another vision. I'll get us out.'

As soon as Sam felt the sensation of heel against the chrome foot of his bed he fell into a sitting position and glanced down. It didn't matter the monster was at his toes with evil intentions, it didn't matter this Dean was still kicking about. It didn't even matter this was going to hurt like hell once again.

All that mattered was unwrapping these bandages so he could dig himself back out to the real world. The real world where his brother would be waiting for him. Not hurt, not angry, not pinned against a wall. Just waiting for him.

(tbc..)