Sup' Chapter 14
(Dean feels a need to get out, to scream, to fight; to kill. He starts to get dressed, and finds the glass they were drinking from over by the radiator; it's cracked now, but that's just as well, the bottle is near empty. He drops it into the trash can, takes the last swallow of whiskey, and places the bottle in alongside the glass. Dean isn't spent, not for a long-shot, but he has no trouble zipping his jeans shut. And even though his tee shirt is back on, he feels a chill go through his body, so he picks up his flannel one, and slips his arms into the sleeves; the soft fabric is soothing his skin, but not his soul. A ghost would not be his first choice in monsters tonight, there's not much fun in killing them. But it's all that's available, so the fight will have to do.
Dean opens Sam's laptop, still sitting on the table since before their argument began. He sees that Sam managed to identify the culprit in question, just like he always does; "Sam, the answer-man". He finds the file Sam made, it has everything Dean needs; name, body disposal via cremation, family address, and that the location of the urn is upon the mantle there, plus a psychological profile, explaining why this ghost hates men who are tall, and good looking, with short-hair.
Dean copies down what he needs, turns off the laptop, and puts it away. He goes over to Jody and lays a soft kiss on her temple. Then he goes to Sam, and puts his hand on the back of Sam's shoulder. He lets it linger there, until he can pull himself together, take a deep breath, and finally drag himself away, wondering if he will ever see his brother, again.
Dean drives quietly to the family home. It's empty, no cars, no people; no pets. Dean checks for an alarm system and cameras, there are none. He easily picks the lock and begins to search the house from top to bottom; except for the urn, it seems completely cleaned out. But Dean doesn't give up. He knows there must be something keeping that ghost here. He goes outside to search the grounds. There's no picnic table, no swing-set, no lawn-chairs, not even a clothesline. He makes his way towards the backdoor, and when he puts his hand on the knob, he feels a piece of fabric.
It was old and worn, like a rag, and in the dark he couldn't make out what it was. He just puts it in his pocket. Dean goes back inside and checks the urn; it definitely has a person's remains, but it occurs to Dean, that even though he was cremated, he wasn't salted. His Dad once told him, "Salt and Burn, there's a reason for everything". So Dean takes some salt from a pouch in his jacket, dumps it into the urn, and shakes it thoroughly.
But now he has to make sure whether or not it works, so he goes to his car, rolls down all the windows, and drives toward where the killings were taking place; a stretch of winding road in the thick woods. He slows down when the curves become pronounced. He sees what looks like gaps between the trees, just big enough for Baby to get through, so they go deep enough into the forest, to disappear into the brush. Dean cuts the engine, and turns off the lights.
He gets out, and reaches into the backseat for a beer from the cooler. It is tepid now, but it will still feel good going down. Then he leans in through the driver's window, to pick up the crowbar.
There was no warning; one minute Dean was okay, the next, there was a ghostly hand ripping him along his right side from his back, clear through to his chest. Dean screams, but he's able to grab the crowbar on the seat, and cut it through the apparition. Dean is now bleeding heavily, but a small smile crosses his face. His shirts are soaked, and more blood is dripping down onto the seat. Dean touches the wound with both sides of his right hand; then he has to use the door to push himself up. But Dean doesn't care. His blind rage won't let him. All he can think about is how much he wants to destroy. But he knows now, that's he's a sitting duck, and he'd much rather that the ghost be the prey.
Dean grabs the shotgun and walks a few feet to a rather clear spot. He thinks it to be a good place to make a stand. Dean waits and watches, sure enough the ghost reappears. Dean shoots it and it vanishes, but just for a few seconds, then it comes back with a vengeance. It knocks the gun out of Dean's hand from behind, but Dean still has the crowbar, he slashes at the ghost again and again, but it just keeps coming back. Dean manages to find the gun and shoot the ghost, but it doesn't give up easily. It chases Dean all through the forest; and he chases it.
Dean fires at the ghost, several different times throughout the chase, and the ghost scratches Deans face and neck, everytime it catches him. This time, though, the ghost takes its hands and squeezes Dean with all its might, trying to crush his bones.
But as Dean goes down to his knees, his thumb gets caught on something sticking out of his pocket; it's s the piece of fabric he picked up from the door knob. He wonders if this might be the item keeping the ghost here. Dean rolls over onto his good side, looking for the lighter he keeps in his right hand jacket pocket. The ghost strikes at him again, it catches Dean's right side; the one that's already hurting and bleeding, the pain makes Dean scream again. He tries with all his might to get his lighter to start during their scuffle. Finally after three tries it flames up and Dean holds the fabric to the lighter. As it catches fire he can better make out its shape; it looks like a necktie; he watches as the ghost screams, burns, and disappears into the night.
Breathing hard, and feeling the exhilaration, Dean is calming down into the peace that his soul needs. He suffered, but he survived, now he's reassured that he's supposed to be here, for whatever reason, he lives another day; or does he? The pain is rearing its ugly head. Dean tries to get up more than once. He rolls onto his knees, and uses a tree branch to pull himself up. He tries to go back to the Impala, but he's disoriented, and it's too dark. But he knows the temperature will drop another ten degrees, and at the rate he is bleeding, he might die of exposure. So he walks into the wind, hoping it will keep him from passing out. But he doesn't get far, before he collapses.)
TBC