.-.-.-.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.

Just wanna say thanks again to everyone! Here's the next chapter!

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14. Scratches

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Dean would have argued with Sam after they'd eaten, would have begged to go to a bar instead of going back to the motel room, where that thing was just waiting for him, but he knew he couldn't. Bobby was coming and they didn't know when he'd show up. The sky had been darkening since they left the diner and as they approached the motel in the Impala, there was very little sign that day had even existed, the sun hidden well behind all the buildings and the half moon glowing softly amongst the twinkling stars that had started to appear.

Sam smiled as they pulled into the car park noticing the rear lights of Bobby's truck as it was being parked. Dean only half smiled, his mind half lost in memories, he felt sickened that memories could make him so afraid of something, even after all the horrible things he'd faced and killed.

"What took you?" Sam teased, jumping out of the Impala and heading for Bobby before the car had even stopped.

"Traffic was bad." The older hunter smirked in reply, he couldn't help but notice how Dean seemed to be lacking his normal enthusiasm and fire and his smirk turned into a frown but he said nothing.

Sam followed Bobby's gaze and sighed, watching Dean getting out of the car, "It's killing him, all those memories."

"I'm not surprised, he was a mess when we found him, barely said a thing for two days."

"I'm not deaf." Dean snapped, rounding the car to join Sam and Bobby outside the room door, "We going in or what?"

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March 1988

"'Or what' isn't even an option, never was." John growled lightly, picking up his youngest and carrying him at his side, he didn't want Sammy to have to stand on the stuff or slip as they were going down, "We're going in."

Bobby nodded and readjusted the bag on his back so it was more comfortable; he then tightened his grip on the flashlight and gun. He had the light so he was going first. He took each step cautiously, eyes scanning all around out of habit more than anything else; after all, this thing was invisible to him and John.

"Remember Sammy, you see this thing, you tell us straight away and when I tell you not to look, you close your eyes and you don't look. Got me?" Sammy bit his lip and bounced his head up and down softly, eyes never leaving his fathers, he was shivering slightly now, scared of what would be waiting when they got down there.

"We're gonna get him back aren't we?" He mumbled and his father smiled.

"'Course we are kiddo."

Bobby nearly slipped at the bottom of the stairwell, foot sliding in the slimy sludge that filled all of the second to last step. He had to drop the light in order to grab the gruesome rail, which left his hand feeling kind of sticky and stained slightly red. Once he'd steadied himself, he bent down and picked his flashlight up, sending John and Sammy a quick "I'm okay."

John and Sammy reached the bottom of the stairwell now and John, noticing that the floor wasn't nearly as bad as he originally thought it was, put Sammy down beside him. Sam's eyes were flashing all over, moving from one blood stain to the next, John just lifted his chin and forced Sammy to stare into only his eyes and he spoke softly "Don't stare at the marks, just look out for movement."

"John… we've got a problem." Bobby called from two feet in front. John looked up and he immediately saw what Bobby meant. They were in a long corridor, so long you couldn't see the end in this light but that wasn't the problem.

"Where are the doors?" John demanded, standing up from his kneeling position, "There were doors and rooms on the plan. Where the hell are they?"

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Present Day

Sam went in first, he didn't know whether to be relieved or concerned that Dean actually didn't argue but then again, it was only a motel room. He opened the door wide and Bobby followed him inside, followed by Dean at the rear.

"What the…?" Sam muttered as he rounded the bed nearest to the closet. The chair that had been propping the door shut now lay on the ground and the door was ajar once again. Cautiously, Sam opened it and looked inside; his eyes were drawn to the long scratches down the back of the door moving in all directions.

"Sam…" Dean growled threateningly, now rounding the bed as well, his stride long and angry. He grabbed the closet door from Sam's grip and slammed it closed before grabbing a fistful of Sam's shirt and shoving him up against the door, it had a graceful air to it the way he executed the moves, "Don't you ever do that again!"

"Do what?" Sam asked, a little frightened by the waves of anger that came from brother but happy none the less to see that spark of Dean's.

Dean took a deep breath and let go of Sam, "Put yourself at risk like that. It could have been there waiting and you wouldn't have been able to do anything because you can't see it, remember?"

He hadn't forgotten, he remembered quite well because Dean was the only one who could see it. It was a foolish curiosity that had made him open the door and look inside and he regretted doing it but if he hadn't, he wouldn't have seen the scratches. "I know, I'm sorry but you take a look at that door, it's scratched to pieces like someone's been clawing at it."

Bobby strode over to the closet, pushing both brothers gently out the way so he could open it and look inside, "I'm guessing it's tired of waiting."

"Then you better get on with explaining about this thing before it decides to have another go." Sam urged.

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March 1988

The blood had finally stopped running down from the cuts in his cheek but they still stung as the occasional tears ran over them. The slice across his palm throbbed and ached. He shivered, his body complaining about the lack of heat, foot and water but he couldn't bring himself to do anything but stare ahead into the emptiness. Once or twice he thought he'd heard voices but he didn't dare call out in case it was a trick and either the creature would come back or all those noises.

But that didn't matter. Even without calling out to the voices, the creature still came. Dean felt so weak; he just wanted it all to be over, he wanted to be back with his Dad and Sammy, sleeping soundly. The creature knew this and for some reason it decided it was fun to tease Dean about his family, taunting him, threatening him.

"I won't lie. I don't need to. They're looking for you. They're somewhere outside these four walls and they're looking for you." It said, in an almost sing song voice, "But they won't find you. They can't find you. And if they do find you, I'll kill them and I'll make you watch."

"Leave them alone." Dean muttered.

"If you give up, I'll let them leave alive."

"They won't leave without me."

The creature looked over to the dead boy, Charlie it had once called him, "They will if they think you're dead."

Dean gulped, "They won't believe it's me."

"I can manipulate surroundings which includes dead things. I can make them see what I want them too. I won't let you leave, not when you're the key."

"I bet I don't fit your lock." Dean mumbled, it was getting harder to form words but he managed to keep the same amount of venom in each one. His head lolled forward and his eyes fell closed. Sleep, sleep sounded good.

"Wake up!" It screeched in his ear, he flinched but refused to open his eyes.

It grew mad and impatient, flexing it's nails and when Dean just kept on refusing to lift his head and open his eyes, it decided to slash his upper left arm and his lower legs. The shock got it the reaction it wanted and as more blood began to ooze from Dean, he bit back a hiss from all the burning pain.

"Now then my tasty little Dean." Its eyes locked with his, "You're gonna be a good boy and let me take it. Because yours is different… and you will give it to me. Don't be greedy."