Sam stared in the mirror, gently wiping the blood away from his cheek. Glancing for a moment back to the door, his thoughts filled with concern for his brother, knowing if the roles were reversed Dean would not have left his side. Feeling the guilt he got up and headed back to the sitting room.
Annabelle paced up and down, looking over to Dean and smiling, the gash on his head still exposed and seeping blood. "This is going to be too easy" she laughed to herself, an odd look spreading across her face. Picking up the movement of Sam she quickly went over to 'tend' to Dean.
Sam slowly peered into the room, his dread turned to somewhat relief as he found Annabelle delicately placing a bandage onto his brother.
"He's fine" Annabelle smiled over to him "I've put some of those plastic strips on to help close the cut".
"Butterfly stitches?" Sam questioned.
"That's them, he should really get it done at the hospital, but we're miles away".
Sam cut her off before she could say more, "he won't go anyway".
"Then he'll probably have a scar, but chicks dig scars, right?"
Sam laughed "Yeah, I'm sure he'll be happy with that," there was something about the woman in front of him that he couldn't quite place but he had to trust she was doing right by his brother.
"Go back to sleep now, you'll need your energy" she said with what appeared to be a genuine concern for him.
Reluctantly Sam walked away, leaving his brother in her 'care'.
Annabelle waited a moment, hearing the bedroom door shut she whispered to Dean "for all that boy senses, he has let you down". Pushing herself off the sleeping hunter's chest, she looked pleased as punch when he groaned in agony.
Again she took up pacing the room. Looking over to Dean checking he was still asleep she began to 'talk' to him. "You know I thought it was going to be hard taking you out, but look at you, you're nothing, a weak excuse for a human being, I was going to take great pleasure bringing your life to an end and getting my revenge on your precious father, but there's no satisfaction killing you now, is there?" she laughed "Unless... wonder what Daddy will think when he finds out his darling son killed his special brother, revenge dear Dean is oh so sweet".
Turning for one more satisfying look, Annabelle walked out of the room and simply disappeared down the hallway.
It was in the early hours when Dean's eyes flickered open, glaring up at the ceiling trying to focus, he couldn't place where he was for a moment, that was until it all came flooding back when he tried to sit up "Son of a bitch" he huffed, gripping at his side trying to numb the pain.
In more of a 'leaning this way because it's comfortable' position than upright, he slowly tried shifting forward to stand himself up. The room he was in was dark, as he got to his feet a woozy feeling came over him "Oh man" Gaining his composure and with the aid of the nearly full-moon outside shining in, he could just make out enough not to trip himself up. He headed for the kitchen to get a drink for his desert mouth, and something stronger for his pounding headache.
Grabbing a glass with his left hand and his right arm hugging his side, he struggled his way over to the sink. Taking his time, he filled the glass and slowly and with great relief he began to drink.
"Wooh I needed that" placing the glass down, he figured he was more likely to find the medicine in the bathroom, so off he went, with no actual idea of where he was going. Walking out of the kitchen he didn't seem to notice the knife block, a knife block with one of the knives missing!
"Sam?" he quietly called out as he headed down the hall, hoping his brother would come and point him in the right direction "Sam?" Not having a thought to switch on the light, he guided himself along the wall, eventually coming to a door.
Smiling to himself he wondered if he was about to enter Annabelle's room and what he'd say if caught. He began turning the handle; screwing up his face he slowly entered the room. "Hello?" he tried to ask without laughing.
"Dean?" he heard a voice reply that he wasn't prepared for.
"Who's that?" he face was frozen and the funny quips he has just thought of were gone.
"It's Sam you idiot, what are you doing?" Sam was resting on his elbows staring at his brother's outline that bared an unflattering resemblance to the hunchback of Notre Dame.
"Looking for the bathroom if you must know" Dean's smirked was lost in the darkness.
Sam shook his head as he got up and switched the light on.
Dean squinted for a moment turned to his brother and smiled "guess it's not here then!"
"Your head's bleeding" his eyes sorrowed at the state of his brother.
Dean raised his hand to his head; pulling it away he saw his bloodied fingers "Damn".
Sam guided Dean to the bathroom; searching through the cabinets he found some headache pills and more dressing. "Sit" he demanded.
Dean looked down at the toilet seat and back to Sam.
"Sit" Sam demanded.
Without arguing Dean gingerly took a seat.
Sam pulled at the bloodied bandage, carefully removing it "that's odd, she said she'd put those butterfly stitches on".
"Butter who?" Dean asked desperately trying to resist the temptation to feel the wound.
"Those plastic stitches you can get, she said she put them on".
"Maybe you heard her wrong" Dean rubbed the other side of his head; he was having trouble hearing his brother himself.
"I don't think so," patching his brother up the best he could, his mind started to wonder about who this Annabelle woman actually was.
"You're done" his brother sorted, Sam led him back to his room; Dean was in need of rest.
"You going to be okay?" Sam asked, realizing he had never had to take care of his brother like this before".
"Yeah, now leave me in peace, I need my beauty sleep!" Dean replied with a yawn.
That was how Dean was, no matter how bad his situation, he always had a quick remark.
Sam closed the door behind him and went to the sitting room to take up the couch, a figure hiding in the shadows watching his every move.
Morning fell upon the house; Sam was awake and went to check on his brother. Opening the door he was surprised to find Annabelle wrapping bandages around Dean's chest.
"There you go, that should protect them for the time being, I don't think they're actually broken, but you've got some really bad bruising" Annabelle handed Dean his shirt.
"Well that's good to know" he smiled fiddling with the bandage before realizing Sam had entered the room "hey Sammy".
"Hey" he replied, somewhat suspect of Annabelle's presence "morning".
"Good morning, now that you boys are up, and we all know who is who, lets get that coffee going" Annabelle patted Dean on the knee and then smiled at Sam as she left to go to the kitchen "I think we might be in for a long day".
Dean struggled with his shirt, trying to figure out the best way to put it on without it hurting.
Sam felt uncomfortable watching "let me help you".
"Yeah cos that would look like a great Kodak moment!" Dean replied slightly annoyed with himself that Sam had to offer but still held out his shirt for the help with a smile.
With some comic moments later and Dean fully dressed, they made their way to get that cup of coffee.
"So, what can we do for you?" Sam asked Annabelle as she finished filling his cup.
"It's simply really, my husband passed a year ago and he now haunts this house each full- moon, it hasn't been a problem really but this full-moon will land on the anniversary of his death and he threatened he would be more powerful and wasn't going to take any prisoners, he was going to avenge his death" Annabelle's face saddened "I love my husband but I cannot take him affecting my life or that of anyone else like this anymore… I need him gone".
"Avenge his death? How did your husband die?" Sam quizzed her, as he sipped on his drink.
"He was murdered, out by the big tree" she began to sob "I came home expecting to see him in front of the tv, I didn't realize he was outside fighting for his life".
"Do you know who done it?" Dean questioned with concern.
"No" she quickly answered, not raising her head to look at either of the brothers.
Sam's eyes narrowed, he wasn't sure how much he believed her. "How do you know our father?" he asked again having not received an answer from her last night.
Dean almost choked on his coffee at his brother's question, but turned to Annabelle and waited for the answer.
TBC
Thanks again for the reviews! Hope I haven't disappointed with chapter 3
