The sun was beginning its descent and evening's dark threat had begun creeping in through the windows. Dean rotated his head slowly, squinting his eyes to try and catch another glimpse of the apparition that had charged his little brother only to vanish entirely moments later. C'mon. Where'd you go?
Jessie was on his right trying to catch her breath. Dean had heard her scream and at first had thought the thing had tried to take her, but she seemed fine now except for the angry and confused looks she kept firing his way. I wonder how long it's gonna take before she starts yelling at me…
"Dean?"
Dean shook his head and looked down at his little brother's face, noticing he still had Sam's neck in a firm supportive grip and realized that was why Sam had got his attention. Dean carefully removed his hold on his brother's head, halting momentarily as his worried tired eyes locked with Sam's blank empty ones. I'm so sorry, Sammy.
Dean moved his hands under Sam's arms and using every ounce of upper body strength he possessed began pulling Sam closer towards him. He sighed contently when he had finally gotten his little brother into what he considered a suitable position with his back stationed against the old wall and his head resting on Dean's shoulder.
"Y-you okay, S-sammy?" Dean asked lethargically as he brushed the stray hair out of Sam's face.
"Yeah, Dean. I'm good--but you're not." Sam replied cautiously. Don't piss him off.
"Sam, I'm fine." Dean replied quickly, relieved he'd managed to get the phrase out without a single gasp.
"Dean, don't do this, ok? Jessie told me what happened." Dean clenched his jaw tightly and turned his head sharply to face the betrayer. She had no right to do that.
"So, what of it?" He shot back angrily, jerking back from his brother causing Sam's head to snap upright. Dean watched his brother's body tense at his sudden movement that had caused them to break contact, and he couldn't get over the fact that Sam's eyes were rapidly moving back and forth as he searched for him. I'm right in front your face, Sammy.
"You're leg is broken and who knows what else. We need to leave and get help." Dean started to protest and grew irritated as Sam just continued to talk right over him, drowning him out in that mock superior tone he used every time he thought Dean was being irrational. "We can come back later after you're taken care of."
"That's what I've been saying." Sam smiled as Jessie chimed in. He knew his brother was hard headed but he rarely ever refused him and Jessie, well, Sam got the feeling that Dean liked her and that he would cave if they both worked him over enough. Sam waited for Jessie to add more to help his case, but she offered nothing more, and went back to former state of silent sulking.
"See, Dean, I'm not talking crazy"
"No, but you are talking to the wall, college boy." Dean scoffed. His lips forming into a smirk as he waited patiently for his brother's spiteful response. The former pity he'd felt for his blind brother was now gone, and his pent-up anger replaced it. Sam had betrayed him again. First he calls dad and now he tells me I can't finish a job. Well, we'll see about that, won't we Sammy boy.
Dean's smirk faded. His little brother was a stubborn one and refused to give him anything in the way of verbal sparring. All he got was the sight of his little brother scrunching his face in confusion, his cheeks dark red with embarrassment. College boy hates to look stupid.
"Dean, please." Sam pleaded quietly and rather calmly considering his older brother had made him look like a fool. I have to remain calm. We can't survive another fight right now. He's just upset 'cause he's hurt. Nothing to do with me…I hope.
"Sam, I-"
"Look, Myrah is gonna come back. You know that right? And how are we going to fight her? Huh? I mean, really, we're not in good shape here." Sam was throwing the words out hastily; he was desperate and growing terrified of the thought that he would die at the hand of his brother's pride if he didn't do something quick. But what?
"Who the hell is Myrah?" Dean's anger began morphing into curiosity and confusion, wondering if Sam's blindness and seclusion for the past week was causing him to go off the deep end.
"You know her better as Lady Toliver. But I don't think she wanted to hurt us." The reply came coupled with an exasperated sigh. But the voice was Jessie's, not Sam's.
"No, she wanted to hurt me!" Sam replied angrily, his eyes wide.
"What? Why?" the response came quickly and earnestly.
"Because she thinks I have some sort of power, and she wants it. Not that I would expect you to comprehend that. You're just another ignorant townie!" Sam lashed out, his tolerance level had reached the level of nonexistent. First Dean and now I have to deal with this moron.
"I'm ignorant? Sam, I used to live in this house, for God's sakes. I freakin' communed with the Lady. If anyone is ignorant here—it's you." Jessie spoke sharply her words laced with fury. Who does this guy think he is?
Dean had been sitting in painful silence watching the whole scene play out before him. His mind wasn't involved in it though; he was too focused on the intensifying agony that ran throughout his entire body. He couldn't shift anymore, without a quick charge of pain ripping through him like a jolt of electricity. A list of obscenities ran through his mind, but remained unspoken. This is not good.
He thought about letting Sam win this one. Help was sounding better and better with each passing minute. He craved sleep, a temporary escape. Just for a little while…His eyes started to close but Sam's yelling forced them back open. I'm gonna kill him. Dean soon noticed it wasn't just Sam, but Jessie as well. He hadn't heard most of the argument, but he wished he'd had. He caught the last part though and now was completely engaged in the ongoing dispute. Jessie used to live here?
"You never told me that." Jessie stopped mid-rant and shot a look at Dean as if just realizing he'd been in the room the entire time. She could almost make out the hurt vaguely apparent in Dean's comment.
"Well, I didn't think it relevant at the time." Jessie retorted coldly.
"Oh, of course not. 'Cause I only mentioned the house and Sam a couple THOUSAND times."
It was Sam's turn to fade into a stunned silence. He still cringed inwardly when Dean flew into a bitter rage. His brother resembled his father so much when he argued---the same authoritative tone, the same hateful response, the same guilt tactic, the same sense of hurt and betrayal that lingered in their angry words. It scared him, really, it always had.
Sam's train of thought broke when he heard Jessie telling Dean something about not having to take his crap anymore, followed by heavy steps and subsequent banging. She's leaving!
"Dammit! Why won't it open?" Jessie screamed as she repeatedly altered turning the door knob to no avail and kicking the door.
"She's not gonna let us out." Dean stated nonchalantly.
"So what do you propose we do?" Jessie's voice still bordering a scream.
"We have to vanquish her." Sam voiced, reentering the conversation.
"You guys are nuts. You know that?" Jessie stated as she walked back over towards Sam and Dean.
"Yeah, we know." Dean quipped, a smile on his face.
"So, what? We wait for her to come back?"
"Yeah, pretty much, unless you know where we might find her." Sam said pointedly. If she really communed with Myrah, she has to know.
"The attic…I used to go and talk to her in the attic."
"Why the attic?" Dean asked, genuinely interested.
"That's where it all happened. That's where she was killed."
"Okay, Jessie, listen. I need you to think." Dean started, the thrill of the hunt starting to course through him, "Did they ever find her body? Did they bury her?"
"No, there wasn't anything left to bury." Sam offered and Dean shot a look at Jessie for conformation.
"He's right. So the legend goes…"
"Alright, uh…Sam, I'm gonna grab your shoulder ok?" Dean slowly warned as he made his way back over to his brother. Last thing I need is to be on the receiving end of Sam's right hook.
"Um…okay. What are you gonna do?" The question was unnecessary. Sam knew exactly what his brother planned to do and was more than slightly irritated when his shoulder almost buckled under what felt like Dean's entire body weight as he tried to reach a standing position.
Dean lost his balance once but Sam was prepared for it and reached out to steady him. It didn't take Dean's blood curling scream for Sam to realize he'd grabbed Dean's bad leg, the sharp bony edge against his palm sealed that.
Everything seemed to happen too fast. Dean was up, moving around. Sam could hear him dragging his bad leg behind him wondering how Dean would ever make it upstairs to the attic.
He felt Dean's hand on his shoulder and the cold steel in his hand. Dean took his right and placed it over the trigger. He placed spare ammo in Sam's left and instructed Jessie to stay with Sam.
Sam felt Dean's hand squeeze his shoulder tightly and listened intently to his orders.
"Stay here. Listen to Jessie. Make it with one shot if you can—well, maybe Jessie should have the gun. I mean…" Sam's throat tightened upon hearing his brother's doubts.
"It's okay, Dean. I can make out shadows now. Really, I can do this. Let me do this." Sam felt his brother's grip on his shoulder tighten as he said it and then release him.
And without another word, Dean was gone.
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Okay, so I'm getting better at updating faster, eh? So...lemme know what you think cause that really encourages me to get my butt back on the computer and start typing...