Chapter 4: More Close Encounters

Author's notes: I just wanted to say thanks to all of my reviewers. I'm glad that everyone seems really happy with how this is turning out. I love the show and I love these guys. It's fun to write the horror but to then turn around and write a scene with our two boys being total smart asses, and THEN turn around a write a scene that's totally chick flick. What can I say, Dean and Sam are perfect! Now if I could just meet them and find a state that let's a single and desperate woman marry two gorgeous studs at once life would be perfect.

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Back at the house Sam put all of the groceries away, which ended up being a ton of work since there were so many of them. Dean had gone to the shed to check out the snow mobiles. He wanted to make sure they were working properly and gas them up.

Sam had a feeling Dean would be using them a lot. He knew Dean would hate being cooped up here, but at least the snow mobile would give him so mobility.

He figured he might as well get started on dinner. He wanted to prove to his brother that cooking wasn't that hard, and that yes, he actually knew how to do it. He decided on something easy, spaghetti and garlic toast.

As he cooked he thought about all they had learn today. He was pretty sure that Daniel was the ghost who visited him last night in his dreams. He was trying to show Sam something, but he didn't understand yet. Did Daniel die that day lost in the woods? Did he ever find Tom? How did he get lost in the first place? Was he running from something? Sam needed a lot more information.

He wasn't too worried about two of the ghosts. The boy was probably Daniel. The man could be the one who hanged himself, Charles Butler, or maybe even Michael Fritz. Or it could be none of them. The one that worried him was the 'other' one. He had a feeling that he was visited by that one last night too, when he was told to get out. Then again, maybe it was the man who was warning them to get out, to protect them or something. Yep, he definitely needed a lot more information. After dinner he would start reading some of the books he had checked out today on local lore. Maybe he could find some answers in there.

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Dean walked into the shed and extended his hands in thanks. "Oh, yes!" he exclaimed. He rushed to the two snow mobiles and ran his hands over them appreciatively. They were a sight of beauty. They held the promise of freedom. Let the snow come. Maybe he couldn't drive his baby, but he wasn't trapped. Hell, he and Sam could easily get back and forth to town on these things during good weather.

He lifted up the seats and found storage compartments and everything on them. He had a seat on the royal blue one and gripped the handle bars like a kid in a candy shop. He spotted the keys handing on the wall of the shed and hopped off long enough to retrieve it. Once back on, he started the engine and revved it loudly.

"Sweet!" As long as he had these babies right here life would be good. He would have a blast riding these things. He turned off the engine to save the gas and then put the key back on its hook. He checked the gas reserves and saw that they had more than enough for the entire winter if need be.

He had no intentions of staying here that long. A couple of weeks, three at the most, should be enough to get the job done and head out. He'd get to kick some spooks asses, Sam would get to play house and rest up a bit, and then they'd be back on the road looking for Dad.

He missed his father. It was hard with the old man just disappearing. Was he dead? Was he in jail? Had he been captured by something? Was he in hiding from something? Or, had he just got tired of it all and walked out on Dean? In his heart he knew it wasn't the last one, but still, where was he? Why didn't he call? Dean never realized how much he had relied on his father. Dad always made the really big decisions. Dad chose the jobs. Dad always knew what to do in any situation, and Dean had been happy to let him make those decisions.

Now all of a sudden he had been thrust into that roll. Every day Sam looked to him to decide the what, when, where, and why. Not that Sam didn't do anything, mind you. He was awesome at research. That was one of the things Dean missed most about Sam when he went to college. It was definitely helpful having a bookworm in the family.

Plus, Sam was good to have in a battle. The kid could fight…not as good as Dean could…but he could usually hold his own in most situations. Yeah, that's why that shape shifter almost rang his pretty little neck and the Hookman and the Horseman sliced him open. Dean froze. He couldn't believe he'd just thought that. Sam had done his best during those fights. Still, his best hadn't been good enough. The kid was seconds away from dying each time. Dean put his hand to his head and literally shook it back and forth, trying to shake the cruel thoughts out of there.

He took several steps back away from the snow mobile and tried to figure out what he was feeling. You've saved his life how many times, and the minute you find Dad he's going to leave again. Ungrateful little shit.

Suddenly Dean realized what was happening. These weren't his thoughts. Something was trying to enter his mind. He hurried out side, away from the shed.

"Get out of my head!" he shouted. "I won't believe your lies." He stood his ground and waited to see if his mind would be assaulted once more but whatever had just happened seemed to be over now. Dean took a deep breath and wiped his face with his hand. Well that had certainly been intense. Suddenly he thought about Sam. Was his brother also having his head messed with?

Dean ran to the house, throwing open the front door. He searched through the house frantically.

"Sam! Sam!"

"In the kitchen," Sam's voice called.

Dean took another shaky breath and put on his mask of composure before entering the kitchen.

"What's up?" Sam asked as he dumped a box of noodles into boiling water.

"Uh, I just wanted to let you know that the snow mobiles are in perfect running order."

"That's good," Sam said. "I can't wait to take them out for a ride. It should be fun."

"Yeah," Dean replied. "So, everything okay in here?"

Sam looked at him strange. "Why wouldn't it be?"

"Uh, no reason. I just wanted to make sure that, you know, you don't burn the place down or anything," Dean replied.

Sam just rolled his eyes and turned back to his pot. "I'm not going to burn the place down. I was thinking after dinner we might go for a hike, do a little exploring."

"Sure, that sounds good."

"Then later I'll start reading. I checked out a bunch of books on local lore. There's bound to be some ghost stories in there."

"I'll help with that," Dean said.

"Great. Dinner will be ready in about fifteen minutes."

"Can I help?" Dean asked.

Once again Sam stared at him. "Okay, who are you and what have you done with my real brother?"

"Ha, ha."

"Really…Mr. I Don't Cook is offering to help."

"Don't be an asshole. I just thought you might need a hand," Dean grumbled, trying to remember why he had come in this room in the first place. Oh yeah, to check on Sam. His whole life had been spent watching out for Sam, and now the rest of his life would be a continuation of the same.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pick on you. If you really want to help you can grab some dishes and silverware and set the table."

"We really should have thought about buying some paper plates and cups while at the market. Washing dishes is going to be a pain in the ass."

"Maybe we can make one more trip to the market on Monday before the storm hits," Sam offered.

"Yeah, maybe." Dean searched through the cabinets to find plates and glasses and then rummaged through the drawers for some forks. He had to admit that Sam's cooking sure smelled good.

Sam dished out generous servings of the pasta and meat sauce and then put two slices of garlic toast on each plate. The two sat down to eat. Sam waited anxiously for Dean to say something. Dean knew he was waiting for a compliment or a complaint and he felt like messing with him so he sat there and said nothing. After each bite Sam would watch him for a reaction until finally when Dean's plate was halfway gone Sam just finally came out and asked him.

"Well, do you like it?"

"I'm eating it aren't I," Dean smirked.

"Yeah, well from you that isn't necessarily a compliment. I'm sure if I put ketchup on it and stuck it between two buns I could probably get you to eat dog poop."

Dean actually choked on his food when he started laughing. "Actually, when you think of some of the diners I've eaten at I think I may have already have had that meal, several times in fact." He took a long drink from his can of Coke before continuing.

"The food is good, Sammy. Thanks for cooking."

"You're welcome."

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Dean and Sam hiked through the woods surrounding the lighthouse. There were several trails that wound their way around the property, obviously put there for summer tourists. Today the paths were abandoned except for them. The ground was soft but not too muddy and a thick layer of leaves covered the dirt paths that crunched as they walked. Soon their cheeks and noses were rosy from the cold air.

"Let's head down towards the water," Sam suggested.

"Sure." Dean took the left fork in the path which would lead to the water's edge. After a bit the trees gave way to a small spit of sandy beach. Looking up you could see the lighthouse over head on the side of the cliff, and looking straight ahead there was another building.

"What's that?" Sam asked.

"I think this is the fog horn. See the loud speakers facing towards the water."

"I wonder why they didn't just attach it to the light house."

"Maybe," Dean replied, "so the people living in the lighthouse wouldn't have their eardrums blasted out."

"Ah! Good thinking. Wow, it's going to be a challenge to fall asleep the first time we have to run this thing all night."

"I don't think it'll be that loud for us. We're a good distance away, plus the speakers point out. We can always test them later tonight."

Sam walked away from the fog horn and closer to the water. He picked up a rock and skipped it perfectly across the surface. Dean came to join him the two skipped rocks for several minutes.

"I still remember the day I taught you how to do this," Dean said. "You were so frustrated at first. You stomped you foot and said that skipping rocks was stupid."

"That's cause all my rocks kept sinking to the bottom," Sam laughed. "My whole life you always learned how to do everything first. Ride a bike, whistle, skip rocks, I remember thinking that I wanted to figure out just one thing before you did."

"Maybe that's why you took to school so much. You knew I hated it," Dean chuckled.

"Nah, I liked school because no one at school knew what we did after dismissal. In school we were just like everyone else."

"Sam, I don't want to talk about this again."

"About what?"

"About how you and I are freaks. I know you think our childhood sucked, but you're 22, let it go already."

"I wasn't about to have that conversation," Sam retorted. "You're the one that started talking about the past." He threw his last rock and turned to walk away.

"Sam! I'm sorry," Dean sighed. "It's just…sometimes you make it sound like we were raised by the devil himself. Everything Dad ever did he did out of love. All he ever wanted was for us to be safe and know how to take care of ourselves."

"I know that," Sam snapped, and then more softly he added, "really, I do."

"Can you honestly say it was all bad?" Dean asked. "Even the time you and I spent together?"

Suddenly Sam turned to look at Dean. "No, god no! I turned my back on hunting, but I never regretted having you for a brother. You were the best brother…well…most of the time," he smirked.

"Of course I was the best brother," Dean said with that shit eatin' grin plastered on his face. "I deserve a medal for putting up with you all these years."

"I wouldn't go tooting your horn too loudly. I also remember the time you lost me in the middle of a carnival because you were too busy chasing after several girls."

"Hey, I told you to stay put. You're the one that had to go and wander off."

"You told me to stay put and then never came back. I was nine. What did you think I would do? I went to look for you."

"Man, dad busted my ass for that one. I went back to get you after I got their phone numbers and you were gone. I was searching all over for you and after an hour I finally gave up and went to get Dad. At first he was too busy being scared to nail me, but once the cops called several hours later and said you were at the station that was it. That was one of the worst spankings I ever got. Dad must have taken his belt to my backside at least twenty times."

"I remember. I think I cried just as loudly as you did and I never even got hit. I felt so bad for you."

"Yeah, but I never held it against the old man. I shouldn't have left you."

"You were a kid. You made a mistake. Besides, it all turned out alright in the end."

"Put it this way, I never lost you ever again," Dean said proudly, and he never would. The two pitched several more stones in silence, each lost to their own thoughts.

Sam took a few more steps towards the water and gazed at the rippled surface. It was so peaceful looking and yet he knew the water was freezing cold. Water that cold could cause a person to go into hypothermia in just a few minutes.

"You planning on going for a swim?" Dean asked, as if plucking the thought right out of his mind.

"Definitely not. That water's what? Forty degrees? I'll pass on joining the Polar Bear Club this time around."

Two large barges began their slow journey past them moving south. Sam wondered what cargo they were carrying. The sun was beginning to set and as he looked out across the water Sam could see a fog slowly rolling in towards land. It was still pretty far out but it was coming.

"Looks like we get to test the fog horn tonight."

"What?" Dean looked out to where Sam was gazing and also saw the fog. "We should start heading back. It's getting dark and we're going to need to get the light house up and running."

They started walking back quickly. Suddenly the sound of someone walking on leaves came from another direction, causing both of them to stop and look.

"Hello?" Dean called. "Is someone there?"

No one answered but Dean and Sam both had the feeling they weren't alone. The sound continued to move past them towards the water. Then Dean saw it. A woman was walking towards the water. She wore a long dress of navy blue that came all the way to her ankles and her black hair was pulled into a loose bun on top of her head.

Dean was about to go after her but Sam grabbed his arm. "Dean, she's not real."

Dean did a double take and realized that with some effort you could see through her. She was a ghost. The woman began to walk out into the water never turning to look back at the land. After a minute she had walked out all the way to her neck and then finally her head disappeared beneath the surface.

"Just how many ghosts are haunting this place?" Dean asked.

"At least four so far."

"Christ, we're going to have to dig up half the cemetery at this rate," Dean complained. Digging up graves was hard back breaking work.

"I have a feeling we're going to have to find a different approach to this than salting and burning remains."

"And what approach would that be exactly?"

"I wish I knew," Sam replied.