Chapter 9: Answers

Sam sat on the side of the bed and wiped furiously at the tears in his eyes. He tried to squelch the angry words in his head. The ones the shape shifter had said to him mixed in with the cruel ones Dean had just spoken. Sam had always known he was a burden to Dean, but hearing the words actually come out of Dean's mouth tore at his heart. He didn't mean to be a burden; he just wasn't as good at this as Dean was. He never had been. His heart wasn't in it. Still, he would have to do better. He would have to try harder to not get in trouble or have Dean have to come save him. Dean needed a partner who was an equal, not one who needed help blowing his nose.

He saw the stack of books sitting in the corner. He hadn't bothered reading any of them since he got them that first day. At the very least Sam should be doing his fair share of the research. He owed it to Dean. He walked over to the pile and saw the diary he had found earlier today, when he was in the house resting while Dean was working hard outside. He decided to read that one. An eye witness account might be more helpful than oral stories passed down through history.

He sat back on the canopy bed and turned on the lamp since it was starting to get dark outside. He thought about lighting a fire in the fire place but decided against it. He'd just wrap up in the blanket and keep warm that way while he read.

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Dean was downstairs pacing back and forth. He felt like he was at war with himself. The right side of his brain was arguing with the left side or something. One minute he wanted to go and beg Sam for his forgiveness, the next second he wanted to smack his brother up side the head for being such a drama queen. Everything you said tonight had been the truth one side said. Yes, but it was the way you said it, countered the other. You shouldn't have to coddle him and baby him all the time. But you've always taken care of Sam. Sam gives you a purpose. You were lost when he was in college. Still, if it weren't for Sam right now you would be on the road, hunting, fighting the good fight, not playing house. But Sam was hurt, physically and emotionally and he needed a rest. He needed this chance to be normal. He's a fucking pussy. He's loyal and trusting. So is a dog.

"STOP!" Dean screamed. He ran out of the living room and went to the lighthouse. He didn't know why but he knew he had to go there. Sam's words echoed in his head. 'Lure it to the lighthouse, it's the only way.' He tore through the kitchen and passed through the large wooden door. As soon as he crossed the threshold he felt the conflict in his brain stop. He breathed deeply and climbed the stairs all the way to the top. He collapsed against the light and sat in the floor.

He just sat there, trying to calm his breathing and his racing heart. He felt safe here. Even more, he knew Sam was safe as long as he stayed here. He stared out the window into the distance. He couldn't see very much and every time the light rotated around to his side he was blinded a little by the reflection off the windows. He didn't care though. He was going to stay here until he was sure he was truly in control of himself.

"You did right coming here."

Dean jumped and saw the old man standing there looking out the window. So this was Caleb.

"What's happening here?" Dean asked. "Why do I keep filling with rage?"

"It lives on the rage."

"How do we get rid of it?" Dean almost begged.

"Lure it to the lighthouse."

"How?"

"If your love is strong enough, you will know when the time comes."

"What? What kind of mumbo bullshit is that? Just tell me what to do!"

"Surrender," Caleb said calmly.

"What? If I do that I think...I think I'll..."

"You think you will kill him."

"NO," Dean screamed. "I would never! I don't care how angry this thing makes me! I would never ever hurt him. He's the most important thing in the world to me. I won't lose him. I WON'T!"

"Then surrender to it. Let it fill you. Only then can you fight it, if you're strong enough. Lure it to the lighthouse." Then Caleb was gone and Dean was alone once more.

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Sam continued to read the diary of Jessica Barrette. At first it spoke of her love for Jonathon, how excited she was to be marrying him, and how she planned to keep herself busy during the winter as they spent their first year together at the lighthouse. She was so happy, so eager to embrace her new life. He flipped several pages and found an entry that was dated a month later. She admitted that life here was hard, and she got lonely sometimes but Jonathon always found little ways to make her happy and to spoil her. Sam smiled at what were, once, tender moments recorded for over a hundred years.

Sam turned the page and saw a new entry. Jessica talked about how Jonathon rescued two men from the shore. Both were almost frozen and half dead. She and Jonathon spent the entire night tending to them and trying to warm them up. A new entry two days later said that the two men were Harold and Buddy. She didn't give a last name. She said that Buddy was pretty sick, but that Harold seemed to make a full recovery almost over night. Neither man knew how they came to be there or where they came from. They both had a bit of memory loss. Jessica said that Harold frightened her. He looked at her too long and too often. She was sure Jonathon had noticed.

He moved on to the next entry which was dated three days later. She told of how Harold and Buddy had gotten into an argument and that Harold attacked him. If not for Jonathon she was sure Buddy would be dead at that very moment. The next day's entry was written in a sloppy hand. Jessica told the story of how Harold went mad and he attacked Buddy once more. This time he actually snapped Buddy's neck with his bare hands. What were truly terrifying were his eyes as he did so. They had glowed bright red. Jonathon didn't see the glow. He was racing to get his hunting rifle.

Harold then turned on Jessica and chased her. She ran through the house and into the lighthouse. She mentioned how hard it was to run up the stairs while holding up the folds of her long skirt. When she reached the top she turned to see Harold right behind her. She was sure she was going to die. She closed her eyes and accepted her fate but then Jonathon arrived and shot Harold dead.

Sam turned the next page. He saw that the next entry was two weeks later. Jessica said she was afraid of her husband. Ever since he had taken Harold's and Buddy's bodies to the lake and set them adrift he had been different. He was suddenly angry all the time. He yelled at her for no reason and today he had actually struck her across her cheek. She didn't understand how he could suddenly be so cruel when she knew him to be a good and loving man. A week later was the next, and final, entry into the diary.

On this day I have done the unthinkable. I have killed my husband. He struck me when I burned the supper. I apologized to him but he only grew angrier. Suddenly we went for the ax which was close to the door. He had been chopping earlier. I took hold of his gun and I begged him not to make me do it. Dear Lord in heaven I begged and begged. He wouldn't stop. He still approached me and I did it. I pulled the trigger. God have mercy on both our souls.

Sam couldn't believe what he was reading. This woman had loved Jonathon so much. Then it was like a veil had been lifted from his eyes. Harold, or who ever he really was, he was the dark thing. He liked to go after the weak. He went after Buddy because he was weak. Then he possessed Jonathon because he thought Jessica was weak.

Sam wondered if this was what was happening to Dean. Was something controlling Dean, making him do and say things against his will? Was it coming after Sam because it thought he was weak? He wasn't sure, but he would definitely talk to Dean about it tomorrow.

He should go talk to his brother now, but he wasn't ready to face him yet. He was still to upset over what had been said. He turned on the small television set that was in his room and made him self comfortable for the evening.

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Hours had passed. It was night and Dean was exhausted. He was tempted to sleep here in the lighthouse but the thought of sleeping with no pillow, blanket, or bed wasn't appealing.

He was calm now and was sure he could control himself. He quietly made his way down the stairs and back into the house. Upstairs he could hear the tv on in Sam's room. He listened at the door and didn't hear Sam. He got on his knee and looked through the key hole. Sam was asleep in the canopy bed. The light was on as was the tv. Dean stood up and turned the knob. He figured he'd turn off the light and tuck Sam in.

He was shocked to find that Sam had actually locked the door. It really hurt to know Sam had felt the need to lock himself away from Dean. With a heavy heart he went to his room and went to bed.

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"Tom, mom is dead." he cried.

"It's okay now. I'll take care of everything," Tom said. "Come with me. We have to hurry."

Sam let his big brother take his hand and lead the way. He expected Tom to take him back to the house, but Tom led the down the path that went to the shore.

"Tom, where are we going?"

"Don't worry, Danny. Trust me."

"Okay," Sam replied, not even questioning why he was being called Danny. He looked at Tom and saw that he was starting to change, to look different. Suddenly he was no longer looking at a 13 year old Tom. The person holding his hand was a 13 year old Dean. Some of the fear Sam had been feeling began to fade. Dean was here. He was safe now. Dean would never let anything bad happen to him. He looked up at his brother and smiled. Dean smiled back down at him, all the while leading him to the shore.

Finally Dean and Sammy came to the end of the path and were at the snow covered beach. The edge of the lake was frozen but the ice only extended a few feet into the water.

"It's time, Sammy," Dean said.

Sam looked up at Dean with innocent and trusting eyes. "Time for what?"

"Time to die." Dean's eyes glowed red and he was suddenly lifting Sam up off the ground. Sam didn't understand but Dean's eyes scared him and he began to cry.

"Dean, put me down," Sam begged and kicked his feet at Dean's legs. Usually he was good at squirming out of Dean's arms but today Dean's grip was so tight.

Dean carried Sam to the edge of the ice and then tossed him into the frigid water. Sam tried to swim but his legs and arms were so small and the water so cold. His skin burned and prickled like a thousand needles were stabbing him. His heavy coat saturated and became so heavy.

"Dean! Dean! Help me!" Sammy cried. "Dean! Please!" He slipped under the water. He kicked for all he was worth and managed to get his head above the surface once more. He looked to Dean. Why was Dean doing this? Didn't he love him anymore?

Dean continued to stand there with his red and glowing eyes. Suddenly Dean jumped into the water too. Sam felt a moment of relief. Dean was going to save him. Dean slipped under the water and didn't return. Where did he go?

Sam's limbs were growing so tired. He couldn't stay above water any longer. He slipped under once more. He saw Dean floating in the water. His body was so lifeless but his eyes still glowed red. Sam's body screamed for air but there was none to be had. Suddenly he opened his mouth but it filled with water. The last thing he saw before everything went black was the red fade from his brother's eyes.

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Dean was awakened by cries for help coming from Sam's room. As always he leaped from his bed and ran to Sam's door. He grabbed the knob but the damn thing was still locked.

"SAM! SAMMY!" Dean pounded on the door violently. "SAMMY! What's happening? Are you okay! SAM!"

Dean heard the lock being turned and he stepped back. The door opened and a terrified looking Sam stepped into view.

"Dean." The word was spoken almost like a prayer. "Dean...I know what happened." Sam voice was trembling and his body was covered in a cold sweat. "I saw it."

Dean led Sam to the room they shared and had him sit down.

"Tell me about your dream. Tell me everything," Dean ordered. Sam did. He told him about Danny and Tom, and how they morphed into them, but they were still children, and about the lake, and the red eyes, and about drowning and Dean's suicide. He told him everything in a hesitant and nervous voice.

"Dean, it was awful. It used Danny's love for Tom to lure him to his death. This thing, it preys on the weak. It turns one person against the other. Jessica's diary told how Harold went after Buddy, and then how Jonathon went after her."

"What diary?" Dean asked.

"The one I found in the attic. I read the whole thing. It possessed her husband and she had to kill him to save herself. Dean, this thing, it's going to try to get you to kill me."

"NO!" Dean grabbed Sam by the shoulders and looked him straight in the eye. "That is not going to happen. I'd kill myself before I would allow myself to hurt you."

"Is that supposed to be comforting?" Sam asked. "We need to get rid of this thing before either one of us gets hurt."

"What do you suggest?" Dean asked.

"An exorcism."

"Sam, one usually performs an exorcism on a person. Who are we supposed to exorcise?"

"I was thinking we should try it on the house. This place, it isn't just haunted. It has been possessed by Harold. I don't think he was a real man. He was something else, something powerful. He died here, and his soul...spirit...whatever...is still here, in the walls, the floor, the very foundation itself."

"Fine, we'll do the exorcism, but if it doesn't work. If I'm still getting...angry...then we are out of here. We'll get on the snowmobiles and leave...agreed?"

"Agreed," Sam replied. He'd finally stopped shaking but the images were still so fresh in his mind.

Dean got Sam a drink of water and he crawled into bed. Dean then turned out the light and climbed into his own bed. He lay on his side so he was facing Sam. He wanted to be able to keep and eye on his brother. Sam was also lying on his side facing Dean

"Dean, I'm sorry if I'm holding you back," Sam whispered.

"Sammy, I didn't mean the things I said tonight. I swear. You have no idea how much I wish I could take them back."

"What you said was true though. I'm always messing up. You always have to come and help me out of some jam."

"We help each other. You're to down on yourself. Okay, so you've been in trouble a couple of times, but you've also been there for me. When I was arrested, you called in a 911 so I could escape. You realized that Laurie was wearing the silver necklace binding her to the Hookman. You saved her father from dying. You rescued me from the Wendigo. I was strung up from the ceiling like a side of beef. You had your neck sliced open and were bleeding to death and yet you still managed to burn the book and send the Horseman back to hell. You had the courage to look in the mirror and summon Bloody Mary knowing she would try to kill you. Hell, on that airplane I was totally freaking out. Not you. The plane is in the middle of a nose dive and you're still reciting Latin and banishing the demon. Sam, you aren't a burden to me. You never have been and you never will be."

"I…I never looked at it that way," Sam spoke softly.

"Well, you should," Dean stated. "I've never once felt that you didn't have my back."

The light in the room was very dim, but Dean could see Sam smile. The kid was just now realizing his worth, although Sam would never truly know what he meant to Dean.

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Sam held the rope Dean had given him and stared at him. This seemed wrong, so very wrong.

"Come on, Sam. You have to do this," Dean insisted.

"But we've never done this for an exorcism before," Sam protested.

"That's because I was never the one something was trying to possess."

"But you said yourself that it's never actually possessed you. It's just tried to mess with your head."

"I'm not willing to take the risk," Dean said. "Now tie me to the chair already, and make the knots tight."

"But what if I need your help," Sam asked. "How can you help if you're tied to a chair?"

"Sam, you'll be fine. You can do this without me. You banished the demon on the plane basically all by yourself."

"I guess. Still, why don't you just go to the lighthouse? This thing doesn't seem to like it there. I think it's because Harold was killed up there."

"Sam, stop stalling and just tie me up." Dean was starting to grow frustrated. He understood this was awkward for Sam, but still, he wasn't willing to take the risk that he might hurt Sam if this thing used him to try and stop Sam from doing the exorcism.

Sam finally relented and started with Dean's hands. He tied each hand individually to a separate arm of the chair. Then he ran the rope around Dean's chest and the chair's back.

"Tighter," Dean said. "I can still move a bit."

"If I tie it any tighter I'll cut off your circulation," Sam exclaimed.

"Make it tighter," Dean repeated. He nodded his head in satisfaction when Sam complied. Sam stood up but Dean halted him.

"Feet too," Dean said.

This time Sam didn't even argue. He simply kneeled down and did as Dean asked, securing each foot to a chair leg.

"Happy?" Sam asked.

"Not particularly, but there's no way I can hurt you now. Keep going. We need to act fast."

Sam nodded. He grabbed the salt and made a circle around Dean and then he put the book in his lap so Dean could recite his lines. Dean wasn't performing the exorcism. Dean was actually doing a spell of protection in an attempt to keep the thing from moving in to his body.

"Okay, I'm going to start upstairs," Sam said.

"Be careful," Dean said. "Take the shot gun and some extra rounds of rock salt."

"I will."

"You got the holy water?"

"I've got it. Don't worry," Sam said. "We've done this a million times, right?"

"Right," Dean replied. Only Sammy had never done it completely by himself before. This was killing Dean. Yeah, he was tied up so he wasn't a threat to Sam, but because he was tied up he also couldn't watch Sam's back this time. His kid brother was truly on his own and Dean was terrified.

"Now stay in the hall way and bless each door, but don't go in any of the rooms or it'll shut the door and trap you inside one of them."

"I know," Sam said. His stomach wasn't suffering from a case of butterflies, it felt like he had a herd of elephants inside it jumping on a trampoline and if those elephants didn't stop jumping up and down soon he was going to throw up.

"Okay, I'll be back soon," Sam said.

"You better be because I'm not spending the day in this chair trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey."

The mention of Thanksgiving actually made Sam smile. Dean still didn't know about the surprise he had planned for him. He shook the thought from his head. He couldn't be distracted.

He stood up, placed the strap of the shot gun over his shoulder, picked up his book of Latin prayers, and grabbed the bottle of holy water. He marched up the stairs and started the task of reading the rites of exorcism. Over the top of each door way he would wet his finger with holy water and then use the moisture to make the sign of the cross.

Sam anointed the four bedroom doors first without incident. Then he did the door of the game room. Suddenly the bathroom door slammed itself shut. Sam walked across the hall and made the sign of the cross while reading the prayer out loud.

A noise from the game room caught his attention. He looked to see the pool balls suddenly rolling across the floor and entering the hallway. He backed away and moved for the stairs. Suddenly the number two ball leapt from the floor and went airborne, flying straight for his head. Sam dropped quickly and the ball sailed over him and fell down the stairs.

Before he could get up the five ball launched itself and made contact with his thigh. Sam grunted in pain but kept reciting. He tired to stand and run down the stairs but another ball was launched and this one connected with his arm. Again he cried out. He gave up on going down the stairs on his two feet and simply opted to slide down on his rear. He had to get off this floor. It was only a matter of time before one of them made contact with his skull and they were more than hard enough to kill him if that happened.

Sam continued to slide, half falling, down the stairs. He could see Dean stretching his neck trying to see what was happening.

Dean wanted to ask Sam what was happening but he knew to just keep quiet. Sam needed to concentrate. Since Dean couldn't help the best thing he could do was to not interfere.

Once downstairs Sam limped to the kitchen and continued the process of blessing the house and forcing the evil out. Sam moved as quickly as he could since he knew time was against him. He blessed the lighthouse door, the back door, the kitchen door that led to the hallway, all the while reciting Latin.

A wind began to blow through the hall and Sam had to squint his eyes against it. Dean also felt the wind swirling inside the house. They were definitely pissing it off.

"Sam, hurry up!" Dean called, not able to refrain from speaking.

Sam moved from door to door. The wind increased with each step of progress he made. Pictures began to fall off the walls, small statues and knick-knacks fell off tables and shelves. Sam blessed the dinning room door and then he moved to the living room where Dean was. He blessed the hall door and then headed to the front door.

As Sam approached the front door a loud growl was suddenly heard. The entire building shook from the vibrations of it. Sam was stretching his arm up to anoint the last door casing when suddenly the large wooden door swung open with such force that it slammed Sam into the wall and he crumpled to the floor.

"SAM!" Dean cried.

Sam was dazed. His head had connected with the wall and the door knob had made contact with side, but he still had his wits about him. He pulled himself up and continued to say the prayer. He was shouting now in order to be heard over the sound of the wind. The noise inside the house was deafening.

Dean was watching closely but it was hard to see and hear because of the force of the air as it whooshed around. Suddenly he was hit with a strong gust and his chair actually fell over on its back. He tried to get up but he couldn't move at all.

Sam made his way to the door once more, this time anticipating getting hit. Sure enough the door swung wide but he jumped out of the way and quickly made the sign of the cross above the door.

Once again there was a loud growling the reverberated though the house. The wind inside became a mini tornado that violently exited through the front door, slamming the door shut after itself. Sam had dropped to the floor and covered his head with his arms to avoid getting hit with anything.

All at once there was silence. No wind, no growls, no flying objects, just silence. Sam uncovered his head and looked around. The place was a mess but no real damage. He looked at Dean who was still lying on his back tied to the chair and saw Dean smiling at him. Dean's eyes were filled with pride and even though Sam hurt in several places at the moment he felt like he could fly.

"Well don't just lay there. Get over here and untie me!" Dean called.

Sam gingerly stood up and limped over to Dean.

"You're hurt," Dean noticed immediately. "How bad?"

"Not bad. Took a few hits is all," Sam said as he sat in the floor next to Dean and started to untie him.

With the chair on its back it was a little difficult to get Dean out but eventually his big brother was loose and he started lifting Sam's shirt checking for injuries.

"Dean, I'm okay, really."

Dean was inspecting the spot where the door knob had connected with Sam's side. Dean pressed his thumb and Sam yelped.

"Ou, what the hell are you doing?" Sam gasped.

"Trying to figure out how hurt you are. You're going to have a hell of a bruise here. Let me see your leg."

"No."

"Why?"

"Because I'm not taking my pants off. I got hit in the leg with a pool ball. It's not a big deal."

"You need to soak in the tub later. You're going to settle sore."

"I will," Sam said.

"You did it," Dean finally acknowledged. "You got rid of it. I knew you could do it."

"You were terrified," Sam stated.

"No I wasn't. I never doubted you."

Sam just gave him the look.

"Okay, so maybe I was a tad bit worried, but you did awesome."

"Thanks," Sam said. "I did, didn't I?"

"Yeah, Sammy, you did." Dean reached up and ruffled Sam's hair, which was as close as he was ever going to get to a show of affection, but Sam got the message loud and clear.

Author's Notes: This is NOT the end. Not by a long shot. The story is really just getting started. Our boys have no idea what is about to come their way. J