Chapter 2: Visits
Dean and Sam hurried through the house and up the stairs of the lighthouse. Again they were panting heavily once they reached the top. Outside more thunder and lightning continued across the sky. Suddenly another bolt struck down from the sky and struck a near by tree with a loud crack. From the limitless view from the windows of the lighthouse they watched the tree burn until the rain finally put the fire out.
Dean realized the light wasn't working. He tried to turn on the lantern but the bulb wouldn't light.
"I think we got hit by lightning," Dean said. He started moving the glass panel with Sam's help and then he exchanged the bulb. It was the biggest light bulb he had ever seen. Together they replaced the glass and then Sam walked over and flipped the switch. Once more the high powered beam of light cut through the rain and gloom.
"Well, that's one crisis solved," Dean said.
"I think we should get out of here just in case this place gets hit again," Sam said. The storm was getting worse, not better.
"Yeah, I think you're right," Dean agreed.
Once back down stairs the two went to the kitchen. Sam found a few cans of Campbell's beef and barley soup in the pantry along with some saltine crackers and half a bag of Oreo's.
"Looks like the last light keeper was a light eater," Dean said.
"Maybe he disappeared before he had a chance to stock up on groceries."
"Maybe."
They rummaged through the kitchen and found a pot, bowls, and silverware. Sam made the soup while Dean checked out the fridge. He ended up throwing away spoiled milk, rotten apples, and onions that had turned into plants. He did manage to find a couple of bottles of beer.
"Sweet," Dean announced, holding up his find to Sam.
"Excellent." Sam poured the soup into the bowls and then divvied up the crackers and even the Oreo's. They ate at the small wooden table in the kitchen since there was no point in messing up the dining room.
"We should make a point of going to the market tomorrow," Sam said. "We don't want to get caught here with no food."
"Totally," Dean replied.
"You know, there's something we need to seriously think about."
"What?"
"Well, let's say this ghost doesn't show himself right away. We don't know who the ghost is yet so we don't know who's remains to dig up and burn. We might be here a couple of weeks."
"So?" Dean asked.
"What are we going to do if we get snowed in here and can't get out? Are you prepared to stay here till spring?" Sam asked.
"I don't think we'd be stuck here till spring. George said that the plow will come this way, it just comes here last."
"But if we should get several snow storms in a row, we could be here for a while."
"It's a risk, but I think we'll be fine. Besides, it may take a while to get rid of the ghost," Dean replied.
"That's another thing we'll have to do tomorrow…research. We need to know who we're up against and just how ticked off this ghost is."
"We can start at the library and even the Nautical Museum should provide some info. Like I said, these disappearances and bouts of insanity have been going on for sixty years, so what ever we're looking for will predate that."
"There should be a list of all the past keepers at the museum. This ghost is probably one of them or connected to one of them somehow."
"Makes sense. You know, we should probably check out the library here and the DVD collection. Honestly, we are going to need to find a way to entertain ourselves around here."
"We'll have plenty of time to practice our pool game," Sam joked. It was a known fact that dean was a champion pool hustler.
"You mean you can practice your game," Dean smirked. "Mine's already perfect."
They finished up their meager meal and put the dishes in the sink. Sam washed and Dean dried.
"I don't know about you, but after driving all for two straight days I'm beat," Dean said.
Sam stole a glance out the window. "The storm seems to be finally letting up."
"Good. Hopefully we won't get hit by any more lightning." They were half way up the stairs when Dean reminded Sam, "Don't forget to take your prescription."
"I won't," Sam said.
"The doc said you had to finish all ten days of the antibiotic."
"I know, I was there, remember," Sam laughed. "Besides, my neck and arm are healing fine."
"Still, take your meds."
"I will! Goodnight."
"Goodnight, Sammy."
"It's Sam," he reminded as he closed the door, although he didn't even know why he bothered. Once inside his room Sam changed into his sweat pants. He looked around his new room. It was nice. The blankets were thick and soft and the pillows were fluffy. In the corner of the room on a small table was a stack of books. He looked at the pile and saw they were mostly murder mysteries and horror stories. He usually didn't go for this type of reading but he didn't have anything else so he picked one of them up and flipped through it. He climbed into his bed and started to read.
Outside the rain had stopped but the wind continued to blow wildly. The windows rattled and a when a particularly strong gust hit the house the window made a whistling noise. The temperature in the room began to drop. At first Sam didn't notice as he read his book but soon he was setting the book down and rubbing his hands together to ease the chill in his fingers.
He suddenly realized that the chill in the room wasn't natural. He got out of bed and walked to his door to check the temperature of the hallway. He turned the knob but the door didn't open. He tugged and pulled on it but it remained shut.
He turned to look around his room and listened carefully for any strange noise. Unfortunately there was so much noise from outside that he couldn't detect anything out of the ordinary. His nose picked up the smell of ozone in the air.
"Hello?" Sam called. He waited and continued to listen. He blew on his fingers trying to warm them. Then he rubbed his hands up and down his bare arms. He realized he could see his breath when he exhaled.
"If you can hear me do something," Sam said patiently.
Sam gasped when something touched him on the shoulder. "Show yourself."
"get out"
The words were little more than a whisper but they were said right next to Sam's ear. Once more Sam grabbed for the door knob and tried to open the door but like before it was stuck.
"Dean!" Sam called and pounded on the door. "Dean!"
Dean had just fallen asleep when he heard Sam calling him and pounding on the door. In a flash he was out of his bed and at Sam's door.
"Sam?"
"Dean, the door's stuck. Something's in here with me."
"Are you in danger?" Dean demanded.
"I don't think so, but there is definitely a spirit in the room. It's freezing in here and it touched me."
Dean grabbed the knob and turned it but the door remained shut even though the latch was clear.
"Stand back," Dean said. He backed up a bit, turned the knob, and rammed into the door. The door opened with a slam. Dean entered the room and noticed how cold it was. Sam was right, something was in the room.
The brothers stood and waited for something to happen but nothing did. After a minute the chilly air began to dissipate and the room returned to a normal temperature. What ever had been there was now gone.
"Tell me everything that happened," Dean said.
"I was in bed reading. The room got cold, really cold. I went to the door. I was going to see if the whole house was that cold or just my room. Then the door wouldn't open. I called out to it to see if it would try to communicate. Then it touched my shoulder and said the words, 'get out.' That's when I called you."
"I'll be back." Dean went to his room and grabbed his walkman. He made a circle around Sam's room and sure enough he was getting a reading. Something had most definitely been in Sam's room.
"Well, at least we know there is an honest to god ghost here and not just a creation of someone's imagination. I doubt we'll hear from it anymore tonight."
"I guess we may as well go back to bed," Sam said.
"Yeah, all right. Call me if you need anything." Dean left the room but made a point of leaving both of their doors open.
Sam turned out his light and got back into bed. Suddenly the friendly and cozy bedroom didn't seem as friendly and cozy. With the lights off, the wind howling, and the trace of ozone still present the room was down right scary. Then there was the fact that Sam hadn't been alone at night in ages. His whole life he had shared a room with Dean. In college he was alone for like a year and then he lived with Jess for the next three. Even during the past six months he hadn't been alone.
The crazy thought of going into Dean's room crossed his mind, and he suddenly understood why Dean chose a room with two beds in it. Dean knew Sam would end up in there. Well, he was 22 years old. He didn't need to share a room with someone. Everything would be fine once he closed his eyes and went to sleep.
He snuggled down in his bed, but sleep came hours later when his body finally gave in to exhaustion.
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Sam was running and running through the snow. He looked around but he was alone. All alone. Where was his father? Where was mother? Where was his big brother? Why was no one coming for him? He continued to run and call their names.
"Mom! Dad," cried. As he called his mind seemed to fight against him. He didn't have a mom. Why was he yelling for her? "Tom...Tom, help me!" No, his brother's name wasn't Tom, it was Dean. "Dean...Dean!" He was so confused and so cold. He didn't want to die out here. Mom had told him that if he got lost outside he could die of the cold. Tears started to roll down his cheeks and his body began to shiver both from the cold and from fear.
"Sammy! Sammy, wake up," a strong and determined voice ordered.
Sam recognized the voice. It was the one that had been there for him almost his entire life. He latched on to it and suddenly the cold disappeared and he wasn't alone, but he was still trembling and the tears still came.
"Sammy, come on, snap out of it," Dean repeated. He didn't know what to think. He had heard Sam mumbling in his sleep and then suddenly he was screaming Dean's name. For the second time that night Dean ran into Sam's room. He was shocked at what he found. Sam's body was jerking and shaking and he was crying like a small child. Dean watched as Sam finally stopped shaking and his cries became small sniffles. "Sam, can you hear me?"
"Dean? Dean what's happening?" Sam was very confused and he wiped the moisture from his eyes.
"You were dreaming but it was more than that. I think you just got visited by a spirit again."
"I was outside," Sam said as he began to remember. "I was running through the snow looking for my family. Tom, I had a brother named Tom. I was afraid I was going to freeze to death outside but I didn't know how to get home."
"How old were you in the dream?"
"I don't know. I never saw myself. I must have been young though because I was terrified."
Sam sat up in his bed and ran a hand through his hair. He was surprised to find himself covered in a cold sweat.
"All right, that's it," Dean announced.
"What's it?" Sam asked.
"Get up. You're coming in my room."
"Dean, I don't need to sleep with my big brother."
"I know, but something in this place has taken a liking to you. You've been visited twice in one night, not to mention the fact that I'm getting tired of running across the hall. Now get up and let's go."
"He was the baby brother," Sam suddenly blurted.
"Who? Tom?"
"No, me. I mean, in the dream, I was the baby brother. That's why I was looking for Tom. He was supposed to be looking out for me."
"That sounds familiar," Dean mumbled.
"Huh?"
"Nothing. Now come on, let's go. It's cold and I'm tired and the longer I have to stand here waiting for you to move the less sleep we are going to get."
Sam gave up. Truth be told he didn't want to stay in this room alone anymore anyway, but somehow he couldn't stop him self from giving Dean a hard time. He got up and followed Dean.
Dean dug around in his bag and pulled out a box of salt. It only took him a second to put a circle of salt around each bed. Hopefully that would stop any more spirits from invading their unconscious minds while they slept.
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The next morning while Dean was getting dressed he was listening to the radio in their bedroom. The weather man was forecasting a substantial snow fall for Monday. Since today was Friday that left them very little time to get their research and preparations done before they became trapped here.
Dean hated to admit it but he was beginning to have second thoughts about this job. It wasn't that he was afraid of the ghosts. It didn't even bother him that much that Sam had been visited twice last night. They weren't in any danger...yet. What worried him was what Sam had said last night. They just might get stuck out here for a very long time, even after they sent the spirits packing. Dean wasn't used to being cooped up. He was an easy come easy go kind of guy. He wasn't afraid of loneliness. He knew that feeling well. No, it really was just the aspect of not being able to come and go as he pleased.
Still, he had chosen this job for a reason...Sammy. The past few months had been a lot for his sensitive baby brother to deal with. Too much had happened too fast; Jess dying, his leaving college, dad disappearing, that damn shape shifter, the nightmares, and then the horseman almost killed him. Dean had figured a simple haunting would be a piece of cake. Plus Sam would like the two of them earning honest money and having the chance to stay in one place for a little while.
Dean would just have to find a way to deal with being stuck here. It wasn't like it was a bad place. The house was really cool, and he even liked the lighthouse. It would just be strange to not be able to climb into his car and drive when the urge hit him. Still, he was tough. He would be just fine. He was a Winchester after all.
"Hey Dean!" Sam called happily from the bottom of the stairs.
"What?"
"Come here! Hurry!"
Dean grabbed his boots and jogged down the stairs. He found Sam standing at the front door.
"Shh," Sam held a finger to his lips and motioned for Dean to follow. Dean saw that he had a wilted looking carrot in his hand. The front door was open and Dean watched as Sam quietly and smoothly walked out of the house and towards two deer that were standing not more than twenty feet from them.
"Hey girl," Sam said calmly. "You hungry?" He moved slowly so as not to frighten them. Little by little he moved closer. Finally he stopped and let the doe make the final move. After a moment's hesitation the doe finally decided she wanted the carrot enough to risk it or that Sam wasn't a threat after all. It walked up to Sam and began to eat the carrot from his hand. Sam ran his hand down her back and then released the carrot. Both deer took off through the woods.
"Okay, that was impressive," Dean said.
"I've never done that before," Sam said. "Dad always made me shot them or bow hunt them. I always hated killing them though."
"But we always ate anything we killed," Dean pointed out. "We never killed anything just for the fun of it...unless it was something evil."
"I know, I just...whatever," he finally said with a shrug. The bottom line was Dean would never truly understand him. He knew Dean loved him like a brother should, he knew Dean liked having him around, and he even did things once in a while to make him happy, but still, Dean didn't understand why Sam liked the things he liked or did the things he did. Dean had never wanted to be normal.
"So I take it you like this place?" Dean asked.
"It's nice," Sam replied. "We should probably get going though. We need to hit the market, the library, and the museum. With this being a small town and tourist season is over, everything will probably be closing down for the day at five o'clock."
"You're right. I figured we would split up. I'll take the museum, you take the library. That'll save some time."
"Good idea."
As the two climbed into the car Dean knew that he had made the right decision to come here. This place would be like a vacation for Sam.
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Beaver Island Public Library wasn't very impressive. It was a house that had been converted into a library. Like many small town libraries it's focus was on entertainment. There was a section in the library that provided resources for kids to do your basic book report or write an essay on Mars, but little else.
"Hi," Sam said to the old lady sitting behind the desk. I'm curious about the lighthouse."
"I'm sure you are since you're currently living there."
"How did you know that?"
"Are you kidding," the little old woman exclaimed. "Everyone knows about you and your brother coming here to take the light keepers position. Personally I think you two are very brave. I wouldn't even want to step foot in there. It's haunted you know?"
"Really?" Sam asked. "Who's haunting it?"
"There could be any number of ghosts in that house. At least seven men have died in that house, others have gone insane, and several even killed their wives and families. I think that place is truly evil." As she said all this there was a gleam of excitement in her eyes. She might have been afraid of the old place but she wasn't above gossiping about it.
"Do you know the name of the first once to die there?" he asked.
"No, I'm afraid not," she replied. "For the first half of the 1900's they didn't really keep many records about what happened there other than deeds, titles, and a master list of the keepers who were employed there."
"Do you think I could see that stuff?"
"What ever for?" she asked.
"Just…curiosity," Sam shrugged.
"Very well." She showed Sam to a back room and then left. A few minutes later she returned with a card board box.
"This is everything we've got."
"Thank you. I'm sorry, I never got you name."
"I'm Rose Daily. I've been running the library here for the past twenty years."
"It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Sam."
"Yes, I heard that you had the brown hair. Your brother is a blond. He's Dean, right?"
"Yes," Sam chuckled. Finally Ms. Daily left when another person entered the library.
Sam looked through the old box she had brought him. As usual it was covered in dust and smelled of age and time. He sat there for an hour and everything he look through made for pretty dry reading. There was a list of the keepers. He found the day the light house was commissioned and who arranged for it, and he found out about several keepers dying while at the place, but no other details were provided.
Finally he began to search the card catalog since this place didn't have computers. He needed some books on local lore and ghost stories passed down through oral histories. Bingo, he managed to find four of them. He quickly applied for a library card and checked the books out along with some others for reading when he had nothing to do. It was time to head over to the museum and see what Dean had found.