Chapter Thirteen: Made Up Monster

Ten minutes after the appearance and immediate disappearance of the monster, Sam sat at the table in the library and sifted through the Men of Letters books. He had never seen that monster before. It reminded him of some things, like the shtriga that fed on the energy of children. But that thing could never make it into the bunker with all the warding they had.

The next creature he thought of was a reaper. He knew from experience that reapers just looked like average Joes, but the creature looked so much like a storybook reaper that he had to at least look into it.

Other than that, he had nothing.

He sifted through one of the books, researching reapers first. Maybe there was some sect to them that they didn't know about. Some kind that looked like the grim reaper and could make it past the warding and could go after people who weren't on the brink of death.

Dean sat down across the table with two plates of cake in front of him. Sam didn't see how Dean could be eating at a time like this; the bunker was just penetrated and here he was eating away. Granted, that was how Dean often coped with trauma, but he could at least grab a book and start searching.

"You should eat something," Dean said, interrupting Sam's focused mind.

"I'm fine," he said automatically.

"You haven't eaten since breakfast and you didn't even eat much there. So, eat." He set a plate right on top of Sam's open book. Naturally, Sam looked up in aggravation. Dean just made two serious errors: he interrupted Sam's research and put food on top of a book. But he wasn't going to fight Dean over it so soon after everything.

Exhaling a breath in aggravation, Sam picked up the plate, moved the book to the side, and then put the plate on the table. He wondered when Dean even had time to bake a chocolate cake. Probably this afternoon while he was avoiding me, he realized. It's too fresh to have been here before I died.

Dean was watching, so Sam picked up the fork and began to chip away at the chocolate cake. He normally wasn't a fan of unhealthy food like that, yet the chocolate melted on his tongue and filled his whole body with warmth. I have never loved chocolate cake as much as I love it right now. He hungrily took another piece of it, seeing Dean eat his cake a little more slowly and deliberately. It was a true role reversal.

Halfway through, though, Sam realized something wasn't quite right. He didn't like junk food, and he certainly didn't inhale it like he was doing right now. He set down the fork and gave Dean a suspicious look. "Did you put something in the cake?"

"What? Of course not." He looked offended that Sam even suggested it in the first place. "What makes you think that?"

"Because…I like it. A lot," Sam confessed.

Dean snorted. "Now's not really the time for jokes, Sam."

"I'm serious! You know I don't like junk food but here I am…"

"Well, you're hungry. You went through a lot."

A lot that you haven't told me, Dean's tone conveyed. Sam stared at him and locked onto Dean's gaze. He picked up on the message, but he wasn't ready to budge yet. "Yeah, well," Sam swallowed. "We both have." He pushed his cake off to the side and picked the book back up in an attempt to shut down conversation.

Dean wasn't going to cooperate with that. "You're the one who says we should talk about things," he stated with slight agitation. "What's got you shut down?"

"We can talk about this later, alright? We're in the middle of a hunt."

"And what makes you think these things aren't connected?" Dean demanded. "Maybe you brought that monster back with you from the veil."

"So what, you wanna splash me in holy water or something?" Sam snapped in frustration. "Touch me with some silver? It's not some monster we know, so we gotta research! If you could just let me focus-"

"You're focusing on the wrong thing, Sam! We gotta sort out what's goin' on with you."

Sam flexed his jaw in frustration. There was plenty that Dean wasn't saying, but it was all implied in his tone. He didn't think Sam was mentally or physically capable of hunting. Maybe a couple of hours ago he wasn't—heck, maybe he still wasn't. But there was a monster in their presence and they didn't have a choice any more.

"I'm gonna call Charlie," Dean stated. Sam jumped in his seat and stared at Dean in shock. Of course they were on the same page, but Dean was wrong. He kept going without regard to Sam. "She and Cas and Jody can come and take care of this."

"Are you kidding me?" Sam practically growled. No. No way. "We're hunters, and we hunt monsters. So if one's here, we can take care of it." And besides that, he didn't like the idea of those three coming back. He loved them all to pieces and would die for any of them in a heartbeat, but if they came back, they would absolutely press him for answers harder than they already were. Jody was tough on him last time and made him feel guilty for not opening up. A mom tactic, probably. He wouldn't know since he didn't have a mother.

"We can't take care of it until we know everything factoring into the situation," Dean said. He was trying to restrain himself and keep his voice calm, but he was obviously worked on. "You coming back from the veil and this thing appearing are linked. If you opened up then we could piece this together a whole lot faster."

Still not happening.

"Sam," Dean ordered lowly while Sam stared at his book. "You gotta talk to me, man. This thing is ripping you to shreds." He said that in a more pleading tone, like he was close to begging.

I can't do it, Dean. I'm sorry. But…I'll start to fill in some of the pieces.

"It might be connected to grief," he said as he turned a page in the book. "I saw a lot of people we lost." Dean opened his mouth to protest and say he knew that already, but Sam suddenly lifted a hand and stared at him. "What did you say was in the cake?" he randomly asked.

"Um…nothing?" Dean repeated. "Why?"

"No no no, the flavor of it. Chocolate," Sam muttered. He rose to his feet, looking around the library. There was absolutely no way that the Men of Letters had a copy of the books he was looking for, and he had to recall that he and Dean only ever had them when they borrowed them from local libraries.

"Sam…what are you thinking?" Dean asked in a more serious, less worried tone. Even he could tell that the wheels were turning in Sam's head and he was close to a breakthrough.

"Those books you used to get for me whenever we were in towns long enough. Boy wizard, lightning scar…"

"Harry Potter?"

"Yeah!" That was it. "And there were those monsters-"

"Dementors," Dean filled in. "Fictional creatures, Sam."

"Maybe at first." He set a hand on the table, staring at Dean as he dumped everything. "Think about it. Harry Potter has a huge following. People always complain about not getting letters to the school and that they want magic to exist, so…"

"So," he finished, "you think the dementors have enough of a following that they were brought into existence."

"Tulpas. It makes sense, right? It was the chocolate thing that got me. Doesn't that help heal a person after an encounter?"

"That, and the fact that the air turns brutally cold wherever they are, they're creepy as anything, and they suck away all your happiness."

"Right-"

"And they're attracted to people who went through great suffering." Dean stared at him pointedly.

"They should have been after us years ago, then," Sam countered.

"…Fair enough."

Squashed that conversation again. At this rate, maybe Sam could keep Dean off that track until the end of the hunt. Now they knew what they were hunting. The only thing left was to find a way to kill it.

"You'd need a witch or a wizard to kill it," Dean was already saying. "They need a patronous charm. And even then, it's not clear if that kills them or just wards them."

"We don't have any witch friends to kill it for us," Sam thought aloud. They only knew one witch right now, and that was Rowena. No way were they going to work with her—not while they had some common sense. "Okay, give me some time to research online. There's gotta be some kind of fan made way to kill them…"

It only took Sam a few minutes to switch out the books for his laptop. His laptop had been put in his bedroom a little while back, so he was out of the room for just a few minutes before he was back at the table and browsing through whatever the internet had to offer. While Sam began sifting through all the search results, Dean stared off into space, thinking about something. Sam figured it was either more worry for him or that Dean was finally focused and thinking about the case.

But then Sam realized that Dean wasn't just staring at nothing and thinking. The way he was fidgeting and folding his hands showed that he was up tight about something. It wasn't Sam, because even when he was worried about Sam earlier, he wasn't doing that. He put his search on hold and stared at his brother for a while. Something was off—something happened in the time between Sam getting the laptop and coming back.

"The monster didn't come back while I was gone, did it?" Sam checked, though he was sure that wasn't the case.

"No." Dean's eyes glanced down to an object on the table but quickly flitted away. If Sam hadn't been looking suspiciously, he wouldn't have even noticed it. But he was, and Dean just glanced at his cell phone.

Sam snatched it away, hearing Dean cry out a "dude" in outrage. "You called them, didn't you?" Sam asked quietly.

"Sam…"

He didn't bother waiting; he went into Dean's recent calls list and saw the phone call. There was a two minute phone call with Charlie that just happened five minutes ago. Even without seeing all the details, Sam could read the situation easily enough: Dean called and told them all to come back, despite Sam telling him that they were hunters and they could deal.

Before he even fully realized his anger, Sam was throwing the phone back at Dean's chest. "Seriously?" he snarled, glaring at Dean as he quickly caught the phone.

"Sam."

That's all Dean could say. Over and over again, all he could say was his name. He couldn't deny it and he couldn't argue his stance because he knew just how stupid he was being. That didn't stop him from doing exactly what Sam told him not to do though. Dean stopped respecting his wishes altogether, and he had a feeling it'd stay that way until he opened up about everything.

He was so ticked up that he stood right back up and started walking out. Again, he heard Dean stupidly call his name to try and get him to come back.

"Not interested, Dean," Sam said over his shoulder.

Still, Dean was equally uninterested in letting him go. He stood up and walked out after him. "Would you just listen?" Dean snapped.

"I'm going for a walk."

"No, you're not." Dean grabbed onto Sam's shoulder and easily spun him around, partly due to his natural strength and Sam not being back to 100%. "You got a dementor on your tail, and if it corners you while you're alone-"

"Who says the dementor is after me?"

"What?"

Sam took in a breath as he tried to calm himself. If he said this wrong, it was going to sound like the biggest jerk on the planet. And anyway, Dean didn't deserve any anger for what he was about to bring up. "I'm not the only person who went through something terrible." Obviously he was talking about the fact that Dean had to kill him. Sam just walked right into his room and stood there for Dean to stab him. "And I know, it's completely my fault that you had to go through that and I'm sorry…" He briefly closed his eyes, emotions of sympathy and compassion pushing away his anger. "I'm really sorry about that…But the dementor might be after you. How well are you coping with all this?" He met Dean's eyes again and was relieved to see that Dean wasn't going to punch him for bringing it up.

"Not well," Dean said after a few moments. Of course he wasn't; he killed his brother. "But Sam, I know what I went through. And yeah it was the worst thing I ever experienced, but I don't think it's as bad as what you went through."

"We're not doing this, Dean. We're not comparing our trauma and playing the game of 'who suffered more.' We both got sent through the ringer. And I want to start healing from it—I do."

"Then talk to me," Dean pleaded again. "It's the only way."

I know it is, Sam finally admitted to himself. Keeping it to himself was only making it worse. He wanted to get the weight off his chest and tell Dean everything, but it would hurt both of them.

"…I will tell you," Sam said slowly. "…After we take care of this case." But they were going to do it with more people now because of that phone call. He was still really angry about it, but there was no stopping it now. "When's everyone coming back?"

"They're not."

Sam stared blankly at Dean while he continued.

"Charlie called me, Sam," Dean said. "She was giving an update and asking how things were here. I told her they were fine."

Not only did Dean not call her, but he lied to her about things being fine. She didn't know that there was a dementor around the bunker or anything. "…Why'd you look so guilty, then?" Sam asked in confusion. "And why did you lie?"

"You think I'm confident in that choice?" Dean responded. "Dude, you're still weak on your feet and extremely on edge. I had half a mind to call her back and tell her what was up."

"But you didn't. Why?" Sam repeated.

Dean stared at him for a long time, trying to piece together his thoughts. They reached Sam and hit him right in the heart. "Because," Dean finally began, "we're hunters and we can handle it. And you're my brother and I trust you when you say you're up for this."

One minute Dean was full of trust, but the next, he was doubting. And for good reason, Sam realized. I just blew up at him for nothing. "Thanks for that," Sam said quietly. His brother's trust…that was something he couldn't take advantage of anymore. Not after all the crap they went through whenever they kept secrets.

"So," Dean lifted a thumb and jabbed it back towards the library. "What do you say we get back to finding our 'patronous charm?'" It was Dean's attempt at peace making, even though he wasn't the one who blew up and caused the whole thing. Even now, he was looking out for Sam and trying to raise him back up.

He wasn't going to take it for granted. "You got it."

*…*…*…*…*…*

One thing that I love about the Supernatural universe is that basically anything is possible, including the fact that dementors may be real. Don't worry, this isn't going to turn into a crossover story with Harry or the gang; just the monsters and a little bit of lore that goes along with them.

Like I said last update, new chapters are going to be coming more slowly at this point. Life's insanely busy and as much as I want to write, I just can't. But on the upside, I WILL keep working on my Supernatural stories to completion.

So, until next time…

Peanut