A/N: All disclaimers apply, and thanks for the reviews.

Brother´s Role

Supernatural Fan fiction

by

Nicol Leoraine

Chapter 2

„And I thought they said that the cabin is only half a mile from the road," Sam muttered as they made their hike through the bushes, the shotgun loaded with rock salt in one hand, the plan of the area in the other.

„Yeah well, it´s not like there´s a sign „Joe Hannigan´s cabin – ghosthunters to the left, tourists to the right," Dean mocked and stopped. Sam frowned at his brother´s back, then walked to his side.

„Watcha looking at, Dean?" he asked after a minute of silence.

„Dunno. You´re not getting any weird vibes?"

When Sam looked at him with raised eyebrows, Dean tilted his head, then sighed.

„Nevermind. Just keep your eyes open."

„Anything specific?"

„You see something moving, you shoot it."

„Isn´t it a little excessive?"

„You enjoy being thrown around?"

Sam shook his head.

„Then do what I say."

„Yes sir," Sam mumbled and for a second Dean felt as if they were back in the asylum. The words his brother shouted at him came to his mind and he swalloved.

„I´m not bossing you around, Sammy. Just want to keep us in one piece," Dean muttered, not really sure if Sam heard it or not. But a pat on the shoulder was an answer enough.

„I really doubt there´ll be anyone after the last attacks, anyway," Dean added for the good of it.

Few minutes of walk later and both brothers stood before a rather abandoned cabin. The wood seemed to be rotten, one of the windows was broken and the porch looked as if someone tried to burn it. Definitely not a nice place to live at or even sleep in for few nights.

„Think it looked like this even while Hannings was alive?" Sam asked spontaneously.

„Probably," Dean replied, paying more attention to the EMF detector, frowning at the low readings. „Damn it, I thought it would be much stronger here," he muttered and started walking around the cabin, not letting his eyes from the monitor. Sam followed him, paying more attention to their surroundings.

„There´s nothing," Dean said frustrated when they checked around the cabin. „If he´d killed them here..."

„Maybe he didn´t. The sheriff told you that they already digged in here. If they didn´t found anything, there probably is nothing to find."

„Just our luck. Old Hannings could´ve been a schizophrenic but he sure wasn´t stupid enough to bury his victims under his porch." Dean shook his head and grimaced, his look pausing at the cabin.

„Okay, it´s time to go inside."

xxxx

Sam didn´t protest but that didn´t mean he liked it. Walking through the door wasn´t an easy thing to do. The smell of decay hit your nose the second you took a step inside. Scrunching his face, Sam reached up with his hand and tried to protect his nose, while his other hand waved around him, dispersing a squadron of flies.

„What the hell is that?" he asked, his voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt. Dean only shrugged, not covering his nose and mouth, hesitant to put either the EMF or the shotgun away. So instead he started breathing in through his mouth, and praying away the tears. The smell was stinging, but it wasn´t a smell of decomposing corpses. As Dean´s eyes trailed around the interrier of the cabin, he quickly localized the source. Someone visited the cabin not so long ago – and that person didn´t care that outside stood an outhouse.

„Crap," Dean grumbled, turning away from the disgusting pile that covered half the room.

„Exactly," Sam added and shook his head. „Do you get anything?" he asked his brother, yearning for the fresh air outside.

„Nah, the readings are low. I wonder if Hannings died here or somewhere else. Seems to me there´s not much activity."

There wasn´t really much of anything, Dean thought, well besides the flies and the smell. There was a small kitchen, but it was too dirty to even consider bringing there some kind of food, not to mention cooking. Dean didn´t find the courage to open the doors of the fridge. The main room had a small fireplace, two uncomfortably looking chairs, a table with one cracked leg and an old dusty couch. Sometimes in the past, there was also a TV, as Dean found a several old issues of TV guide. Other than that, the cabin was empty. No personal properties, not even an animal trophy hanging from the wall.

„Okay Sammy, we´re leaving."

No sooner did Dean finish the sentence, when Sam pushed open the door and practically stumbled onto the porch. Once seeing Dean emerge from the cabin with the same haste, Sam walked up to the nearest tree, taking in gulps of fresh air as if he just emerged from under water. Dean was doing the same.

„That was... shit," Sam shook his head, disgusted.

„My words, Sammy," Dean agreed and straightened out. His younger brother was still bent over, fighting off the nausea, when Dean´s hair on the back of his neck stood at attention. He tensed, the stench of the cabin forgotten.

Sam sensed his brother tensing and he quickly looked around, his eyes narrowed.

„Dean?" it was more like a whisper and both brothers were preparing themselves for the attack, but it didn´t come.

„Saw something to the left," Dean replied in same hushed voice, the shotgun raised and ready to use, when the EMF detector picked up its tune, disturbing them.

„Well, something´s definitely near."

As if hearing it, a small form appeared in the bushes. Dean´s finger tightened around the trigger, but Sam´s restraining hand stopped him.

„No, it´s the kid," Sam whispered in haste and took a step towards the misty figure. Dean internally cursed and followed his brother, their moves slow and careful. The boy didn´t step back, only watched the approaching duo and they could see the contures of the child´s face. The boy looked younger than what the sheriff told them, but then again, Dean himself didn´t look older when he was ten. He was watching them with huge dark eyes, and Dean was getting nervous of the unblinking stare. His steps faltered as they get into the close proximity of the boy, the EMF gave a high pitched sound, startling them all. The boy blinked for the first time.

„Follow me," he said, then turned and was gone.

„What the hell?" Dean cursed, but not sooner did he do that than Sam started out. „Damn it, Sammy!" he shouted after his long legged brother, realizing that he was likely to fall behind, because as much as Sam was better at the school stuff, he was also the fastest runner in the Winchester family.

Sam heard his brother, but wasn´t about to slow down. The boy was fast, he already lost him several times, then when he wanted to stop himself, he spotted him peeking from behind a tree. Sam only hoped that the boy wasn´t leading them into a trap and that Dean was close behind him, because he didn´t dare to look around in search of his brother, the image of the boy too easily lost in the bushes.

Dean had some trouble keeping up. He felt the dull pain in his chest resurfacing, but knew well enough that this wasn´t a good time to start complain, so he gritted his teeth and tried not losing his brother from sight, which was a hard enough task.

He caught up with Sam and gasping for air hesitated if he should first smack his brother or turn off the damned EMF which was now beeping with renewed urgency. Gasping for air, he looked around and realized they were standing on a clearing, not ten yards from another cabin. This one looked to be in perfect state though.

„I think we just found out where are the Denim´s burried," Sam uttered in quiet voice and Dean looked at him, confused.

„See that place where nothing grows?"

He pointed at the other end of the clearing, and Dean saw the hollow ground. It was a square and any comment about bad soil was silenced by the green grass rising from the ground, around the hollow square of earth. Of course, the fact that the boy was standing right there was also quite a good indication.

„Ooookey," Dean drawled out and nervously looked around. „Let´s do it, before the parents realise we´re here," he said and headed for the grave. It was Sam´s hand that stopped him once again, this time though more like a warning than restrain.

„Uh, I think it´s a little late for that, Dean," he said nervously and suddenly, Dean saw the reason behind it standing three feets from his own face, frowning.

The mother appeared at the grave, putting one arm on the boy's shoulder. He looked up at her and smiled. Dean couldn´t but feel a twinge of envy, seeing the mother and son together. There were times, when he was just a little kid, when he thought it would´ve been better if he´d died with his mom, that then they would´ve been together. But every thought of dying evaporated once he laid his eyes on his baby brother, crawling on the floor, or sleeping.

„Dean?" he heard Sammy speak and was unsure what to do. If it was just an average angry spirit, it would´ve been easy. He would probably empty the shotgun, Sammy would recite the binding spell that would buy them the time needed to dig out the bones. But now, knowing that the man had a right to be angry, that he was only protecting his family, it was harder to attack. And what if they didn´t need to do it forcibly? After all, the boy brought them here himself.

„We´re just trying to help. Let us do our job, and we´ll end this."

Sam blinked in surprise, hearing his brother speak those words, because in truth he was anticipating the booming sound of the shotgun. The spirit of the father looked a little surprised himself, but it didn´t take too long.

„No!" the apparition growled and in the next second, Dean was laying flat on his back some six yards farther.

„Dean!" Sam ran to his brother´s help, kneeling down. His heart beat fast, but he couldn´t stop the sigh of relief when Dean blinked his eyes open and grimaced.

„Guess he´s a little pissed," he grunted as he tried to get up, cringing. Sam threw him a concerned look, but still helped him up.

„You think so?" came the sarcastic reply, when the spirit gave an angry scream and both brothers felt themselves being lifted in the air, and they stayed here, as if pinned to some unseen wall.

„Next time, shoot," Sam mumbled and Dean only grunted. He had a hard time to speak, to move or simply to take a breath. The spirit of the father was looming over them, his face scrunched in a grimace of rage and pain. And when Dean saw his eyes, he was sure they were as good as dead. He knew that look, saw it in the eyes of his own father, when the man found another trail of the thing that killed their mother. It was a look of a possessed man.

„We... only want... to help," Sam stuttered, not getting enough air himself.

„No one will take my family, ever again," the spirit hissed, and Sam shivered.

„We didn´t... kill you. It was... Joe Hannings," Dean said, fighting hard against the unseen bounds, the fear for his brother pumping adrenaline through his body.

„I know," the spirit looked at Dean with glee. „I took care of him. As I shall take care of you. I won´t let you harm my family."

It was then that Dean looked away from the father, at the little boy and his mother. He saw the scared look on his face and knew that the boy wanted them to help, to stop what had become of his father.

„You´re the only one... hurting your family!" he shouted, the edges of his vision already darkening from the lack of oxygen. „Don´t you see... he´s afraid of you? Of what you´d become?"

There was no reaction and Dean thought he lost. One look at his brother told him Sammy was probably unconscious and he too was losing the fight.

„Daddy?" It was the tiny boy who spoke and for the first time, Dean felt the unseen fingers around his neck loosen their grip a little. „Please... let us go."

Dean blinked as much in surprise as in struggle to keep conscious. He couldn´t help but feel relief vashing over his body, as he saw the crumbled face of the father. Not sooner did he see it as the man released them from his grip and turned away.

Dean fell with a thud and for a minute only gulped in the air, feeling the pressure in his chest abate, his vision clearing. The moan from his right brought him to his knees.

„Sammy? You okay?"

Sam coughed, one hand reaching for his brother.

„Yeah," he croaked and regarded Dean with concern. „You?"

„Just peachy," Dean replied with a grin.

„What-"

„Later. First we need to dig out the bones, before the father changes his mind. Nothing broken?" Dean quickly checked, assured when Sam batted away his hands with a grunt.

„Nope. I´m fine. Where are-"

„At the grave," Dean replied but knew it wasn´t true even before he turned. The clearing was as empty as it was when they arrived. With a sigh, he helped Sam up and together they shuffled toward the grave, on their way picking up the shovel that Sam didn´t let out of his hands even when they were running.

„Okay, bro´. I think this is our green light to start the dig." With that, Dean burrowed the shovel into the ground.

xxxx

He should´ve know it won´t be so easy. With each piece of bone uncovered, the creeping feeling intensified and Dean couldn´t stop looking behind himself. Sam quickly recognized his brother´s nervousness and it didn´t make him any calmer. They quickened their pace and had the bones uncovered in record time.

As Sammy mumbled the spells that should allow the spirits to finish their road to the other side, Dean reached into his pocket and pulled out a little cannister with gasoline. His hand faltered when he sprayed the bones, and it was impossibly hard to use the lighter. He felt the beads of sweat running down his back and could feel the watching eyes.

Still, he took a piece of paper, held it above the lighter then let it fall from his hands, right onto the waiting bones. The fire started instantly.

The face of the young boy appearing in the midst of the flames, held in the arms of his mother almost set him off, but looking at his brother, he realised that Sammy didn´t see them. For a second he wondered where was the father, but when the flames flickered, he could see the shadow approaching the waiting duo and encircling them protectively with his arms.

The wind took up and the sky darkened but it was nothing paranormal – just a sign that the light of the day was dying away. Dean knew they should leave before the night fell, but he couldn´t force his body to move. He felt the need to stay, until the last piece of bone turned into ashes, so they could bury it in salt and definitely end the journey of the family.

He didn´t know why the sudden empathy. Under any normal circumstances, Dean was the first to shoot. Trying to talk down the spirit wasn´t his style.

Maybe he was just tired. He felt the throbbing in his chest and wasn´t quite sure if it was caused by his last flight across the clearing or if it was a distant reminder of the not so long past encounter with Dr. Ellicot and the load of rock salt provided by his own brother Sam.

Well, maybe it had more to do with the nightmares that troubled both brothers, so none of them got much sleep. But they didn´t talk about it and even though Sam tried, Dean always stopped him. In the end, they put it aside, knowing that there was no time to deal with it - there were people needing help, there was a father to find and a monster to kill. Maybe once in the future they could sit down, drinking cold beer and under the nightsky full of stars tell each other everything they wanted.

But this wasn´t the right time or place. And for once, Dean don´t wanted to be the older brother. He don´t wanted to say it was okay if Sammy pulled the trigger three times, aiming the gun at his face. He don´t wanted to deal with his brother´s guilt, or to accept his apologies while he had still pieces of rock salt embedded in his skin.

Just for once he would like to not feel responsible, to lean at someone, without being afraid of showing weakness. He wished his brother could understand that in all these years Dean was there to protect him and not to hurt him.

He just wished Sam didn´t hate him like he did in the asylum.

xxxx

Sam cleared his throat, the silence and his brother´s stillness making him nervous. Dean wasn´t one to linger in one place but now he seemed hypnotized by the flames that were mirroring in his eyes. Sam swallowed the urge to grab his brother´s arm and pull him out of his stupor, afraid that Dean might unconsciously react and the last thing Sam wanted was to end up on the ground – again.

So they waited till the flames died away and buried the bones in salt. While doing this, the EMF stopped its wild beeping, but there was still some noise and Sam crinkled his eyes.

„Looks like this place has more ghosts than we thought," he mumbled, not sure if Dean even heard him.

„Much more, Sammy. This place is weird."

„Well, then I say we should leave. I don´t know about you, but traipsing the unknown forrest in the dark isn´t my idea of fun. It´s too easy to get lost there."

Dean looked up from the new grave and slowly nodded. He had this absent minded look in his eyes, one that Sam didn´t see too often. What disturbed Sam most was the thin layer of sweat covering Dean´s face.

„Are you okay, Dean?"

„I´m fine," came the casual reply and Sam shook his head in frustration.

„Then let´s go."

Hesitantly, Dean followed in his brother´s footsteps. Only when they lost the clearing from they sight, Dean blinked, as if waking up from a transe. His eyes came back to focus and he shook his head, trying to clear it.

„Yeah, we should go," he mumbled and altered his pace, feeling a great urge to get to his car and as far away from this place as he could.

TO BE CONTINUED

A/N: This is not the end, LOL the story just started. Send me a review and I'll try to get the next chapter up in the next few days.