A/N: here it is, chapter 11, hope you all enjoy it. thank you all again for the reviews, they make my day. let me know what you think of the newest chapter. :) ps. i have decided that ed and harry have known each other since high school. :)
D: dont own supernatural.
BY THE WAYSIDE
Chapter 11
He sat there staring at the computer in front of him, the same number staring back as he glared at the screen, willing it to change. Everything was going wrong, their new plan was falling apart, just like they had time and time again. The last video they had been able to post of the Winchesters was their mishap in the river, and since then, the number of hits to their sight was falling, fast. They were losing people's interest, losing their lime light, and he was desperate to find a way to hold onto his fifteen minutes of fame.
"So." Harry began, breaking Ed from his silent anger, his voice ringing in the confined space of their trailer. "You think maybe we can give them a sister that talks to dead people? Or maybe, have Buffy be their long lost cousin. What do you think about that?"
"I think that one: it's stupid and two: it's been done before. We need to make this real, man. What ever happened to just the brothers driving around hunting ghosts?"
"Ed, no one is gonna wanna watch that. I mean, Buffy, Angel, the Halliwell girls, they want styling young professionals locked in an epic battel for the good of all man kind." Harry's voice grew louder and more theatrical as he pitched his grand idea to Ed, his arms motioning so fast he almost knock himself from the chair.
"Dude, those stories have been pitched thousands of times, we need something knew."
"Ok, maybe they are superhuman, half-demons from the future. Think Dark Angel meets the supernatural world."
"Harry!"
"Or, we could pitch a movie like House of Wax, but with them?"
"Harry!"
"What?"
"Cool your jets, dude. Lets just stick with the plan, write some scripts about what they actually do."
Harry looked down at the pen and paper in his hands sheepishly, mumbling something Ed couldn't quite make out as his partner's black and blue eyes glazed over in a sort of ill placed horror.
"What did you say?"
"I said, what if Dean and Sam find out. What if they try to break more then my nose?"
"They won't hurt you."
"How the hell do you know?"
"Because, guys like that are all talk. Don't you remember high school?"
"I try not to."
"Remember Terry Lafferty? The guy that used to lock you in your locker at lunchtime?"
"Yeah."
"Well, that dude lost a fight to a girl, remember."
"Ed, he did not lose the fight, he turned a corner and got hit by his girlfriend's back pack."
"Still, big tough guy like that, taken down by a cheerleader's book bag. Like I always say, tough guys are all talk."
"Yeah, well, you keep telling yourself that. I, on the other hand, am gonna do what they say and stay out of their way."
"Exactly why you were always the one in the locker."
"That's because you can run faster."
A sudden pounding made both men jump out of their seats and scream, the fist banging against the door with enough force to make their small trailer physically shudder. Harry stared, both eyes swollen and black at the rattling door as Ed pushed himself further back into the trailer. They remained silent for a few moments as the banging grew louder and harsher, both men afraid of what lay on the other side, wondering if their little marriage counseling had failed to destroy the ghosts.
"I know you're in there. Let me in or I'm gonna break down the door!"
"Hey, we did what you told us to. We deleted everything, so just leave us alone."
"Open the god damn door!"
"You'll hurt us if we let you in." Harry chimed in, clutching a pillow to his stomach like it was a shield.
"I'll hurt you if you don't let me it. Now open the damn door."
"Fine, but I know karate." Ed called as he made his way to the door, puffing out his chest as he swung it open. "What do you want?"
"Let me in."
"Why?"
"Because I need your help, and I don't really think I can keep standing too much longer."
Ed stared wide eyed at the hunter before him, finally taking a good look at the tall man. Dean's eyes were strangely unfocused, his shoulders slumping slightly, his lean body swaying as dried blood flaked away from the back of his neck and jacket. He really did look like the walking dead. "Sure, man. What happened to you?"
"My brother." Dean began weakly as he climbed into the trailer, Ed having to pull him up the steps, his injured knee locking and popping with each step he took. Harry scooting further back into the structure, obviously still a little wary of the figure before him, the pillow still clutched defensively in front of him. Dean rolled his eyes and smiled as he nearly fell into his seat, eyes closing immediately while he tilted his head back, his face and skin pale and sweaty. "He's possessed by a demon that trapped us a few months back." He stated quietly, eyes still closed.
"What do you want us to do about it?" Ed asked, staring intently at the injured man before him, wondering how he was still awake, let alone walking and talking. 'Maybe he isn't all talk.'
"I can't fight it alone, it almost killed me last time."
"And you want us to help?" Harry asked, eyes growing wide as though he were a five year old who's dad just asked him to help with an incredibly adult chore. "Like, hunt with you!"
"No, definitely not. No offense guys, but well, you really suck as hunters."
"Then what do you want from us?" Ed asked smugly, completely content to listen to Dean's story, then throw him out on his ass.
"I need your site."
"Huh?"
"Sam and me, we're a good team, the best. Who better to fight the demon that has him then me and my brother."
"You lost me. I thought your brother was being possessed?"
"He is."
"So, how are you gonna fight with him, against him?"
"I need another Sam. A Tulpa Sam."
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Sam's soul awoke slowly, the suffocating darkness still surrounding him, still pushing in at him from all sides, crushing him. Everything was a blur of pain and fury, his heart aching, mind spinning. It took him several long minutes to remember the day, to feel again, and when he did everything around him came crashing down.
He had killed, his powers had destroyed lives, young and old. He may not have done it himself, but he was still responsible, still the one to blame. It was his power, his soul, his life force that was the weapon, and he knew then that he would never be the same. He had no idea that his body housed such a wealth of power, that his spirit was the cause of such an unworldly strength. Yes, he had visions, and yes, he had moved the cupboard, but those acts were nothing compared to this. He had sent a semi careening through traffic, taken the lives of innocent people, of children. And he wasn't sure that he could live with the consequences. He had become what the Demon told him he would, what 'fate' told him he would, and it was destroying him.
And suddenly, his soul shrank, dipped, faded. He had fought against others for so long, always done the opposite of what they told him he should, always tried to do more then people told him he was capable of. He wanted to fight fate, he truly did, but the more he fought, the harder he pushed, the further into fate he seemed to fall. Everything he did, every breath he took, seemed to bring him one step closer to his destiny, to what the rest of the world told him he would be. Everyone except for Dean, that is.
His brother told him to be a hunter, told him to respect his family, to be there for them, but that was all. Dean had never told him to be one of the Demon's 'chosen' children, he had never told him that he should accept his powers. His brother had simply told him to be himself, to be a Winchester, to be his brother. That was all Sam had to be, but somehow, somewhere along the way he had become a pawn in a very deadly came. But his brother's words, his brother's faith still shined through brighter then his so-called destiny. He was a Winchester, and he was Dean's little brother, and he wasn't about to give that up for anything, not even fate.
So, this time, when Sam awoke he remained quiet, hiding himself deep within the darkened prison of his own body. He had to try and read the demon, figure out what it wanted without it stealing anymore of his strength. He had to have a plan. Sam suddenly felt a small rush of understanding as he sat there in his internal darkness, ideas flowing through his mind, as his thoughts whisper quietly in his soul, trying to stay under the demon's radar. The Asura was using him, but no one ever said that he couldn't use the Asura. And so, slowly and delicately Sam tried to tap into the shadow's energy, mold his own soul into his enemy's. It had said before that it could feel Dean, even miles and miles away, so maybe, just maybe, Sam could feel him too.
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"You want a what?"
"I want a Tulpa Sam."
"Why?"
"I just told you."
"Yeah, but. You have to have a better plan then that." Ed stared at Dean as though he were about to sprout wings, his eyes narrowing as he tried to read the older man's impassive face. "Are you trying to trick me?"
"Look, are you gonna help me or not, because I don't have a whole lot of time here."
"You do realize that it won't be anything like your brother."
"So you can do it?" Dean asked eagerly, neatly side stepping Ed's statement. 'How can it not be like him?'
"Of course we can. We have a page just for Sam, I can put the symbol on it."
"I need him to be as much like the real Sam as possible."
"How so?" Harry asked, his voice wavering as he spoke up.
"Like the tapes you have. You've met him."
"There's no way we can recreate an entire soul. It's just going to be bits and pieces of a story." Harry continued, still trying to talk some sense into Dean.
"So?"
"So, he can help you fight, but..." Harry trailed off, his voice growing weaker as Dean's eyes narrowed.
"But what?" He really didn't have time for this, his little brother was dying.
"But, if you can't get to your brother in time, don't expect the Tulpa to be able to take his place. Once this is over, Sam or no Sam, you are going to have to kill it."
"I know." Dean began, cursing himself as his voice cracked, his tired body slumping further into the chair. Ever since the idea had first struck him Dean told himself that he would understand the difference, that he would be able to handle the decision. But the closer it came to reality, the longer Dean was away from his real brother, the more the uncertainty began to settle in. He knew that it wasn't going to be Sam, not really. But would he really be able to destroy something that was so much like him, that was basically an imagined version of him. And would he really be able to do it if Sam, his Sammy, died.
He had told himself that he would, but the more he though about it, the more the lines began to blur. 'At least it would be something.' He told himself, at least it would still be Sam, if only part of him. At least it would be something. He had seen the younger man's skin before he left, seen how pale it was, his lips were blue and trembling, his eyes dull, body shivering. And that had been nearly six hours ago, before the demon had left with him, walked through the freezing winter day without a jacket, without anything. He kept telling himself that he would get there in time, that he always got there in time, but a growing fear had taken hold of his crumbling soul. What if he was already six hours too late? What would he face when he finally found Sam?
He forced his mind back to reality, back to the two men sitting before him, staring at him, as though they could see the inner turmoil boiling beneath the surface. But they didn't know how much he needed Sam, no one did, and he didn't know if he would be able to lose him. 'At least it would be something.'
"Do you? It's going to look and sound like your brother, but it won't be him."
"I just need a little help. I'll get to my real brother in time, then I'll take care of the Tulpa, don't worry. I just need a little help, that's all."
"All right. We'll post the story, but it will take a few hours."
"Thanks."
Dean sat in the dark and dust filled library, the fireplace sending warm tendrils of light across his tired face. His green eyes burned and blurred as he stared down at the page before him, the same page he had been staring at for the last three hours. But his mind was not it the small, warm room, not with the book before him, not even with the town he sat in. At that moment, everything except his body was far, far away, lost in the thoughts he had been fighting all day.
It had been nine hours since Sam had left, nine hours out in the cold wilderness with the demon. And at that moment, he could have sworn that he felt his brother, felt his fear and his exhaustion, but also his comforting presence. While Dean knew he was sitting in the warm library, searching the area for local cabins or campsites, he could still feel an unbelievable cold, a chill he had not felt since Washington. It was the icy hands of the Asura, the bitter chill of its essence, and Dean could feel it all around him, boring into him, reaching out to him. And in the middle of it all he could feel his brother, weak and fading, but still there, still calling for help. And it made Dean want to scream, to yell to Sam that he didn't know how to help, that he was sorry he had put him in danger in the first place. But most of all he wanted to tell Sam to hold on, to stay alive, to fight, because he didn't have the strength to bury his baby brother.
"Excuse me, Sir." A small voice behind Dean made the hunter jump, his aching body turning quickly in the seat, hand reaching for the gun beneath his jacket. He let his body relax, though, as he was met with the equally frightened blue eyes of the petite librarian.
"I'm sorry, Sir, I didn't mean to scare you, but the library is closing."
"Oh, it's ok. Thanks." Dean shook himself and stacked the books neatly on the table before placing his journal and papers back into his brother's leather bag. Dean then maneuvered his stiff body towards the crutches he had salvaged from the trunk. He stared long at the offending objects as well as the bulky metal brace that circled his knee before gathering himself and heading back towards the impala.
He had tried to throw his crutches and braces away a few weeks before, but Sam had insisted they keep them, just in case. The younger man had even climbed through the dumpster by the small apartment they had rented when Dean had taken in upon himself to dispose of any sign of his injury. But, at that moment, Dean was glad his younger brother had been so persistent. The truth of the matter was that the Asura's attack had injured his knee once again, and, without the brace and crutches, the older hunter knew that he would be crawling to Sam's rescue instead of walking.
He pushed the memories out of him mind as he made his way through the library doors, the crutches almost natural to him. 'I did spend four months with the things.' He told himself with a smug grin, Dean Winchester could master anything. He shook himself again as he tried to focus, the lingering cold still wrapping around him, Sam's presence still eerily close. There were several places he believed the Asura could hide, the most promising being a group of cabins that had been closed down for the winter. They were out of the way, and stable, the perfect place to hide a captive.
As he rounded the corner Dean froze, his heart clenching, breath stalling, as he stared at the impala sitting before him just as he had left it, or so he thought. But there, right before his eyes, sitting calmly in the passenger seat, was Sam.
TBC