Fields Of Jasmine
Chapter 30 ~ Loyalty
Dean shoved the iron door closed behind Sam. The omega reached – more out of instinct than anything else – to his left side, along the wall. To his own, and Dean's surprise, he found the light-switch on the first try.
"Holy shit.", Dean gasped as soon as the lights were on and his gaze fell upon shelves and desks full of books, test tubes and a lot of other weird looking items. There were weapons littering a giant iron-table; including knives, guns and a whole lot of other familiar hunting things Dean only knew from his or Bobby's arsenal.
"Wow." Sam's throat went dry at what he was seeing. This was truly his? This was what he had spent his life with? It was literally a library including a labor of the supernatural. This was his. This was what he had been doing. There was proof enough for him that he'd been a hunter all along.
This didn't look like only a job to him. This was so much more. This was like an inner calling or something, as if he'd done this with all of his heart and so much more.
"Dude ... you're awesome.", Dean chuckled in disbelieve. "I thought we'd find something ... but this? THIS? Holy shit, kid. That's ... that's awesome. - You ain't only a hunter ... you're a freakin' geek. A hunter-nerd. Dude ..."
"Was.", Sam interrupted breathlessly, as his gaze continued to roam through the room.
Dean gave him a curious look.
"I was a hunter." Sam made another step into the room. Of course it wasn't that big. That may was, why he had rented two of them and – obviously – turned them into a single one. "'m not anymore."
Sam's knees started to turn into jell-o slowly. He couldn't possibly trust his legs right now.
This was his home. Literally his home.
Now that he was here, smelled the old air and saw those shelves he knew. This had been his sanctuary at times he needed a safe haven to lay low. He KNEW this was where he came when wounded or to simply get back his strength do serious research on demons and other profound lore. He could remember those books, knew where he'd possibly find things other hunter's didn't have a clue about.
He remembered himself collapsing onto the bed at the very back of this storage room – which wasn't visible from where they were standing right now – and he remembered Harry talking to him while patching him up.
Now that he was here he remembered hovering over books and making himself coffee with that machine right beside his bed.
"It had never been an apartment I've been remembering.", Sam murmured. "This was it ... I was here. This was my retreat when I didn't know where else to go."
Dean heard what he said, while he looked around, noticing sigils and other drawings on the walls and the ceiling, even a painted key of Solomon lurked out from under a dusty old carpet beneath his feet.
"Don't tell me you've got a bathroom in here, do you?" Dean walked past Sam, but not without touching him.
"No bathroom. Toilet.", Sam mumbled and pointed to where a Portaloo was squeezed into the very last corner of the storage. "I've cleaned it out before I left last time." It was rather a half-memory than something he could really remember.
Actually they had thought they'd crash for the night as soon as they'd arrive. They didn't since they were too nosy to just lay down and sleep until the next morning. Instead the both of them started to dig through books and shelves and the desks until late into the night.
It was only when Dean noticed Sam growing too silent and thoughtful, and the omega seemed as if he was falling from the chair due to fatigue, that he directed him toward the back of the storage and made him lay down on the dusty, makeshift bed with him.
Sam drabbed the alpha beneath him, as he used his chest as pillow. Dean buried his fingers in Sam's soft hair and hummed contentedly.
Somehow proud and though worried, he found himself staring at the ceiling. This was Sam's refuge. The shadow's lair. No one else knew besides Sam. And Dean honestly doubted, that the short guy from the office truly knew with whom he had been dealing all those years.
Sam was the shadow and Dean was his partner in crime now.
The Alpha was worried that Sam would find the old version of himself…the man that had existed before those bad things had happened to him. The omega wasn't too keen about who he had been before and even seemed a bit uneasy while going through the desk and eyeing the weapons.
"You recognize those things?", Dean asked quietly.
"Some.", Sam answered straight away and sighed. "Not all of them though. I can remember what some of them are for or which cases I needed the books for. I can't remember if there's been lore about Orthos …"
The alpha breathed in deeply. "That's not the main reason why we're here."
The omega made an unhappy sound. "That's why you came with me...in hopes that there may be information about it."
Dean frowned at that. This wasn't entirely true. "We came here because it's where you lived partly. To get some of your things. We also came because I wouldn't ever let you come alone, Sammy." He paused. "I told you we're in this together.
"But this is Lawrence."
"I know. And it doesn't matter." He needed to end this conversation before it'd ended up taking the wrong course.
"Sure it does. To you." Sam's voice was quiet and even. "I know that. It's tugging on you. That you're so close to where you lived. I can feel it."
Dean pondered that, thinking about a retort. "Yeah, well. You're right about that. But that doesn't mean that I don't want to be here with you."
The omega closed his mouth and shifted. His eyelids slid closed and he exhaled audibly. "I love you, you know that, right?"
A smile tugged on Dean's down-turned lips. "Yeah, sunshine. I know." He made a point by pausing. "I love you too. Do you know that?" Sam chuckled and nuzzled into Dean's chest. "Shut up."
"You shut up." The alpha sniffed. "Jerk." The omega couldn't help but grin. "You're a jerk." "Yeah. My jerk." Sam wrapped his arm around Dean's middle and snuggled closer – as if that was even possible. "Bitch." Dean ruffled Sam's hair. "Your bitch." "Yeah. My bitch.", the ex-hunter smoothed Sam's hair back again.
~ 67' Chevrolet Impala ~
The next morning didn't come for them before nine o'clock.
Maybe it was due the lack of noises, or the lack of sunbeams stabbing through their eye-lids since there were no windows. It might also be because the both of them were exhausted and tired as hell.
Sam was the first one to open his eyes. If it hadn't been for the pressing matter at hand – which was actually a full bladder – he wouldn't have gotten up anyway.
But since he needed to go, he had no other choice but to ease out from his mate's grasp and slip out of the makeshift bed.
Sam thought for a moment, and as tempting it may be to use the Portaloo, he didn't want to clean it afterwards. Not to mention if they forgot to clean it, he'd get an heart-attack the next time they came here. If they came here again anyway.
Sam sighed, as he staggered towards the exit and groaned as the first beams of the bright spring sun hit him right in the face. When he shoved the door open some more, it made a loud creak and groan, so the omega opened it just enough to squeeze himself through the gap.
He cringed inwardly, when the door made another shriek, hoping that he didn't wake Dean. The alpha deserved an hour or two more rest. He'd been driving the whole day yesterday with only one break in between.
Once outside, Sam pulled in a deep freeing breath. The air out here smelled clean and fresh with a hint of flowery odor. His eyes fluttered closed as he tilted his head backwards and his face towards the sun.
A gentle warmth settled over his face and warmed his cool skin tenderly.
Sam's smile widened a bit and he made a comfortable sound. Had it not been for his over-sensitive and full bladder, Sam would've stayed there a while longer, enjoying himself. But it was no use. He needed to pee. Like yesterday.
The omega walked two storage units further down and rounded the corner, before he relieved himself in some withered bush. He barely had his zipper back up, as he got snapped out of his gleeful bliss. Sam's eyes snapped open. Breath caught in his lungs.
A ray of emotions crossed his handsome features and ebbed away, leaving behind a mask of horror. Then he heard it.
Footfalls.
A familiar scent crawling up his nostrils and setting alarm-bells off. There was a snarling noise and the sound of gravel crunching under light weight. Then there was crunching gravel…it sounded heavier and so different from shoes.
"Look what we've got here.", a female voice sing-sang cheerily. There was the rattling of a chain. Not one of those heavy ones. Nope. It sounded like something thin and light. Like the ones you used to go with dogs for a walk. Sam closed his eyes as he released a shuddering breath.
"Samuel. Nice to see you again." He could literally hear her smirk. "You're the demon." Sam stated, his voice firm, not giving away his fear of what this may mean. "Indeed, boy. I am."
Sam took another calming breath and his eyes opened slowly, before he turned around to face what he knew he was going to see.
Though he braced himself, he couldn't hide the initial shock of what he saw. A blonde woman with short hair and mischievous brown-green eyes which flashed black a moment later. There was a beast beside her. The beast was a big muscular thing with long white fangs and gleaming white eyes. It was baring its teeth at him, snarling and growling. She rose her hand and the THING fell silent immediately.
~ 67' Chevrolet Impala ~
Dean groaned and sniffed and made another couple of unintelligent noises as he slowly rose from the land of dreams.
"Sam?", he murmured hoarsely. His arm stretched out to where his mate was supposed to be. All he felt was the lack of another warm body and he could barely pick up the remains of Sam's scent. The alpha groaned. "Sammy?", he called out again.
At the lack of response, Dean sat up with a wince as the movement tore at his right hip and muscles in his leg. He rubbed over his face to clear his blurry vision and gazed into the lingering darkness.
"Sam?", he asked, this time even louder and with a hint of gnawing panic. He struggled out from under the covers and swung his legs out of the bed. "That ain't funny, kiddo. I'm gonna spank your perky ass!"
~ 67' Chevrolet Impala ~
The omega's eyes narrowed at the female only a couple of yards away from him. She sighed and shook her head in a parody of sadness. "Bad news, hunter. Due the need of completing breaking the seals and my task to make sure that these things happen ..." She bit her lower lip, then tilted her head to the side. "I need to kill you."
"Is that so?" Sam's voice stayed calm. His gaze was chilly. "Look ... I am dearly sorry for this." She rolled her eyes at herself. "No I'm actually not." She eyed Sam some more. "You know this would be so much more fun if you'd at least TRY to run ... or somethin'." Sam shook his head, standing his ground. "I am done running."
"Oh." She made a surprised sound. "Look who's grown a big pair of balls." She made a sweet noise. "I'm sorry – that ain't possible, isn't it?" Meg chuckled evilly. All Sam could do right now was to glare at her. Well, besides the bitch-face he threw her way.
"Just get it over with, will ya'?" Sam prayed that Dean would hear him. That he'd latch onto the urgency he was trying to reach his mate with. He hoped most of all, that it'd work. The omega had read that mates had some sort of psychic connection – or so he thought at least.
He swore to himself that he'd never again go out pee by himself – at least not completely unarmed.
~ 67' Chevrolet Impala ~
Dean pressed his back up against the brick-wall, feeling the uneven surface dig through his tee and into his muscles. Green fire was burning in his eyes as he heard that bitch talk. He gritted his teeth together so not to make a single sound – not even the growl which dared to erupt from his throat.
The alpha held his gun close to his chest. The safety was already off and his finger twitched against the trigger when he heard the demon's beast snarl. He knew if he messed this up, it would be Sam and him paying dearly.
~ 67' Chevrolet Impala ~
Meg cocked an eyebrow and her ears perked up, as if she had heard something. Her grin widened and her lips twitched. "No need to hide, handsome.", she hummed and raised her hand. A split moment later, a surprised grunt and a loud thud was heard. Nothing more.
"Dinner's ready, baby.", she whispered and petted the thing's head. It looked up at her and she gave it a wave with her hand. Sam's eyes widened in horror. "No," he breathed. "No. Don't. It's me you want. Not him." His voice broke, suddenly powerless and raw.
The demon titled her head to the side and pursed her lips. She acted as if she was thinking, but she actually wasn't. Not at all.
"You stay.", she growled at the young omega, as he attempted to storm at her or go after the beast. He himself wasn't quite sure what he wanted to do.
Sam felt an invisible force – like a rope – wrap around his neck and suddenly he found himself air-born and pinned to the wall of a rusty-brown container-wall. All air got knocked out of his lungs on impact and the back of his head made brutal contact too.
The blonde girl sauntered over to him, holding him in place with her telekinetic abilities. Sam desperately tried to get much needed oxygen into his lungs. He was so screwed. He'd taken Dean down that road with him. Dean. His alpha. God. No. His gaze flickered towards where the beast had disappeared around the corner.
"Let him go.", Sam gasped, fixing the girl with a rebellious look. "It's me you wanted. You have me. Please." Again she acted as if she was pondering Sam's suggestion, but shook her head with a wide grin. "You know that I like it when you beg, right? Always did." She bat her lashes at him. "Well ... Savanger did anyway. At least ... you know how it goes ... until he died." Meg pursed her lips again. "It's honestly a pity that I've to kill you. You'd be the perfect pet for ... whoever I'd be riding in the future."
"Screw you!", the omega spat at her, trying to free himself from the invisible grasp around his neck. "I'd never go back. I'd rather die." Meg made a tsking noise, then sighed. "Right. About that." Her eyes narrowed at him and the next second, Sam's throat was closing up on him further. "I like to watch.", she continued with a smirk. "Death is something beautiful. Especially when people are begging me for it. Nonetheless. I don't have time for that kind of fun right now." She paused, seemed to think for a moment and then looked aside. "BUT, I sure as hell can draw it out some more and ..." She got interrupted by a loud whine and a screech. For a millisecond, her grasp on Sam faded. "Cerber!", she called out, whipping her head around to look in the direction the beast had disappeared.
"Dean.", Sam croaked out desperately, clawing on the invisible restraint pressing into his soft flesh.
"Cerber!", she hissed through gritted teeth. A dark creature appeared from behind the container. But, it sure wasn't the one Meg had been calling for. This one was different. It looked different. It was a bit taller and seemed lankier even though there was a lot of black fur covering its body. Its eyes weren't perfectly white and there was blood.
Sam choked out a breath, feeling resignation take the place of rebellion in his heart. What had he left to fight for if Dean wasn't there anymore? What was he worth without his alpha? The man who had saved him and gave him so much more than anyone could ever imagine.
As the demon looked back at the thing her eyes grew wide and she spun around, her mouth hanging open. "What have you done?!", she half-growled half-snarled at the beast.
It tilted its head to the side and it nearly looked as if it was grinning back at her, telling her "Gotcha, bitch." For a nano-second, Sam even thought he saw a flash of brown gleaming up in its eyes, but it was too fast to be sure. Sam's mind was too clouded to be able to decide if it was an optical illusion.
Sam's vision was blurry at best and unconsciousness was daring to take him out right there as he found himself on the verge of slipping away.
The monster was taking on its fighting-stance, the hairs on its back rising up. It snarled and bared its sharp teeth at the demon. Or, how Sam saw the whole thing through the mist of oxygen deprivation, it was snarling at him.
~ 67' Chevrolet Impala ~
Dean's eyelids fluttered and a muscle in his neck twitched as he slowly started to come back to himself. For long seconds he couldn't place where those weird sounds were coming from, nor why it was so damn bright. Wasn't he in Sam's lair? And why the hell was the mattress that hard? Hadn't he been sleeping on something softer?
A groan fell from the ex-hunter's lips and at the first conscious intake of air into his lungs, he felt the all too familiar stab of pain. He wasn't supposed to be hurting either, was he?
That was about the moment everything came crushing down on him. Waking up to find Sam gone. Getting his gun and a clip of special ammo from the desk where Sam's weapons were laid out. Not that he consciously knew why he was doing it, nor how he could know that this clip would fit into his gun. Later on Dean would figure, that it had been Sam leading him there and telling him which clip to take from the table.
It had been like a feeling, a call – something or someone – telling him what to do. Dean standing, with his back pressed up against a container and listening to someone's talk. Then the snarls and growls. Eventually the picture as he snatched a glance from behind the corner.
Sam pinned to another container. The blonde haired demon and the beast in the middle of the corridor facing Sam. Dean had heard screeching noises, like claws against metal and then something took him down from above. All he could remember after that, was blackness.
That was about the same moment that he felt an heavy weight upon him. The alpha's eyes snapped open and he tried to take a deep inhale. An impossible attempt, since the weight which was crushing him belonged to a black fury creature. He gasped and choked back bile as a wave of dizziness and nausea overcame him.
"Sam.", he croaked out, realizing the complete silence he was surrounded by. "Dammit."
Had he shot that thing?
Eventually, Dean managed to roll the thing off of him and when he finally staggered onto his feet and straightened up, he saw his gun only a few feet away from him in the gravel. "I'm gettin' too old for that shit.", he grumbled under his breath. "Fuckin' bastard."
Dean limped towards it and picked it up. Then he made his way around the container in a jog (well, rather a fast limp) and stopped immediately when he saw the scene before him ...
... to be continued