I'm not gonna lie; I just completely forgot to update. I know it's been a long time. I'm sorry.
But, here's Chapter 21!
Chapter 21
Sam thought he might pass out.
He stared in steadily mounting horror at the pile of debris separating he and his brother. It took him a moment to realize that he was still holding Cecilia from when he pulled her from the danger zone.
"Oh my God," Cecilia gasped, looking shellshocked, gazing at the collapsed ceiling.
"He's still around," Sam moaned, knowing he couldn't panic but desperately tempted to. "God damn it, it didn't work."
She looked at him. "What?"
He remembered for the second time that he was still holding her and let go, feeling guilty, somewhere in him, but he wasn't sure where. Dean was on the other side and he might be hurt, and Patrick MacDowell's spirit was still at large.
Cecilia fell to her knees. "It's happening again," she whispered. "I can't, oh God, I can't do this, not again, oh God…"
Suddenly feeling dizzy at her words, Sam pulled her to her feet to face her. "Again?"
There were tears in her eyes. "Last year, I had this boyfriend." Shoe closed her eyes to stem the flow the flow of tears. "His name was Stephen, and I…" She stopped. "I loved him. One night I started to have nightmares. About him. That was the – the first time –" Her story came to a shuddering halt.
Sam felt even dizzier, and realized that a line of blood was running down his face. Something must have struck him when the ceiling fell in, but he couldn't be sure what. Dean was in danger. Dean was in danger. Dean was in danger.
"I couldn't stop it," whispered Cecilia. "I couldn't figure it out…I couldn't save him. It was my fault he died!" Her voice had risen to a hysterical pitch.
"Whoa, whoa, calm down." Sam grabbed her hands. "Believe me, I've been in your shoes before, and you can't blame yourself. But right now, Dean could be hurt, and we need to save him, okay?"
She stared up at him, her tear-filled eyes wide. "What if I can't?" she whispered. "What if…"
"We don't have time for 'what ifs,' " Sam said. He didn't mean to sound harsh, but Dean was his top priority right now. Nothing else mattered.
Dean groaned, feeling pain in every inch of his body. With a wince, he found he could move, albeit slowly. He had never actually thought he could hurt so much.
No, that was a lie. He had been in this much pain before, and beyond.
Whoa, morbid.
Damn, he was in bad shape. He thought of Cecilia's prediction of his death. Maybe he should have taken it more seriously.
Cecilia. Death.
Oh, now he remembered. The stupid girl had followed them – again – into the house, and within five minutes of walking through the door, the ceiling had randomly collapsed right on top of them. He blinked, trying to recover control over his aching body. He had to get up, had to figure out a way to get out of this mess. He looked around, his blurry vision clearing, but he was alone.
Sam.
Oh, damn it!
He tried to push himself off the ground, but his body wasn't cooperating yet, and his trembling arms would not support him.
He felt his heart skip a beat at the sound of voices on the other side of the rubble. Sam! His brother was alive, at least, and had hopefully survived the collapse unscathed. He strained to hear. Now it was Cecilia's voice, high and scared and almost hysterical.
Okay. They were both alive. Now, he needed to get up and let them know he was, too.
He forced himself off the ground and stood on shaking legs. "Sam?" he yelled, trying to look for a way through the rubble. "Sam!"
There was the sound of rapid footsteps, and when Sam spoke, his voice was much closer than it had been. "Dean! Are you okay?"
"I think so. Sore, but all right." Dean tried to pull a few scraps of wood and metal from the pile of debris, but found he was weaker than he thought. He cringed at the thought of admitting it to Sam.
"Can you get out?" There was the sound of something solid and fairly heavy hitting the ground. Obviously Sam's bodily strength hadn't been affected at all.
"Um, no." He grimaced at the admission.
"Why? Dean, are you really okay?" There was a note of panic in Sam's voice.
"Yeah, Sam, I'm fine, seriously." Almost, anyway. "I'm just a bit weak, okay?" Ugh. There, he said it.
"Oh. Okay, well, hang on, then. I'm coming."
Dean was about to reply when he felt a sudden unfamiliar chill run down his back. And then the sound of hoarse, laboured breathing met his ears. Shit! He started to scramble away.
"Sam, hurry up!"
Dean froze in shock. He'd just been about to shout that – but somehow, Cecilia, on the other side, had beaten him to it.
"Huh?"
Cecilia's voice rose even higher. "Your ghost is in there with him!"
He heard Sam's panicked cry. "Dean!"
Dean didn't answer as he crawled clumsily away from Patrick MacDowell's spirit, the look in its eyes confirming Dean's suspicion that it was out for blood.
Yay for more cliffhangers! I'll promise to try to update soon.