Proximity

Author's Note: Sorry if I haven't gotten to all of you personally yet, but a massive thanks to all the support I've received on this story. The reviews (and the pm's and emails) have been a real confidence booster, and has me to strive my hardest to write better with each update. Of course, I'll let you decide if that's true or not. Thanks to all of you. And hopefully you'll be pleasantly surprised with "who" Dean saw…it's a new twist for myself, as well. Note: (In case you forgot, cuz I had to look this up, lol) Officer Kathleen Hudak was the lady cop in this episode Nightmare)


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"It can't be you…" a shiver traced over every inch of Dean's skin as he stared at the figure before him. It was a man, young enough looking to believe the age behind his eyes was beyond his years. Already, he and Dean shared a similarity, though Dean didn't recognize it. His face was freakishly pale, and seeing as the man resembled someone who was supposedly dead, Dean understood.

"Don't tell me I've come all this way to find out you're a skeptic," the man smiled warmly against the cold, emptiness of his appearance. Dean juggled with all the possible words he could say, but nothing quite fit his voice just right. "As you might have guessed, I'm Riley," the man offered.

"Riley? Kathleen's Riley? Officer Hudak's dead brother, Riley?"

Riley nodded. "What's that look for? Haven't you seen a ghost before?" he asked with a smile, genuinely curious. Dean forced his mouth closed as it was agape from shock.

"No—I mean, yeah, it's just…I've seen some pretty weird shit in the past twenty-four hours…I just don't know what I can trust as real or not," Dean replied, staring at the man—the dead man—who was staring back at him with just as much life.

"Well, you're gonna have to trust me."

"Trust you with what?"

"Helping you save your brother, of course."

-:-

When Sam opened his eyes he didn't get the relief of escaping the dark. It was still there, like a force set in motion, and it wasn't letting go of him. By the way his neck and back hurt, he realized he'd been unconscious in a position slumped back against a wall, but not just any wall—it wasn't smooth or finished, but jagged and rocky. Wherever he was he knew he shouldn't be there; knew he didn't want to be there.

He struggled to sit up, using the protrusions in the wall to help pull himself to his feet. He wanted to call out for his brother but had no idea if using his energy like that would be helpful at all. He felt just as he felt while in the Bender's home…he was trapped in a cage from the outside world, from his brother…and he couldn't do anything to help himself get out of it.

Suddenly, firelight flickered in the distance of the dark surrounding him, and Sam was allowed to see that the linings of the walls resembled that of a cave. His theory was confirmed when he looked up and behind him to see the same rocky formations that held him prisoner.

"Damn it," he muttered, facing the distant light again. His head was pounding and he'd been sick and tired of not knowing where he was or what was happening, and more importantly, not knowing where Dean was.

He took an edgy step forward, the pain from the motion instantly collecting itself somewhere in the middle of his head and the ache rattled around inside restlessly. He sucked in a heavy breath and ignored the pain.

If Dean could do it, so could he…

He took a few more steps towards the light, but he found the closer he got the more the light faded in the dark. Still, he continued to walk forth, trying to pick up his pace and catch up with the light. He did so for about thirty seconds until the light went out completely and Sam was left in the dark, solid as a brick wall all around him. He huffed out a bitter sigh. But then he heard a voice…

"Sam…"

It was so peaceful sounding, so welcoming, so familiar…so loved, and too long since he'd heard it.

Jess…

"Have you come home to me, now?" Her voice echoed throughout the cave, encircling him in a soothing reverie. He missed her so much…

"Jess, where are you?" Sam asked. He was answered by the sound of a scream, her scream, and she was screaming so loudly that the darkness shattered around Sam and fire surged before him, knocking him down on his back.

And he stared up in unmistakable horror as Jessica was pinned on the ceiling. The dark washed away to the fire, and the fire pulled on the hinges of his memories of that night, that night he lost Jess…

"Jess!" Sam cried, like he always had, again and again and over and over…but nothing stopped the fire.

"I'm ready for you to come home to me, Sam. I've been waiting…"

In the midst of the nightmarish spectacle, he relinquished his fear to the knowledge that this wasn't really happening, and he was asleep somewhere…

Except, he wondered when it was that in sleep you can feel the fire burn…

How did the heat falling down on him seem to scold more than his guilty conscious? He panicked again and looked around him, seeing fire everywhere. He stood again, roughly, and too notice that the ceiling was now completely covered in flames and Jess was gone. The clouds of fire were now raining blood, and it dripped around him with every drop singing his flesh. He let out a hoarse yell, wanting to run but having no where to run to.

Jess was gone, taken again…and Sam was trapped. There was only one person left, the same person who was always there, that Sam thought to call for.

"Dean!" he yelled, and yelled, searching the dark flames for his brother to come riding in on a proverbial white horse to save him—like always, or at the very least wake him up.

"Dean! I can't wake up, wake me up, Dean…" he yelled out, falling to the ground covered with hot ashes. The burning blood was falling harder now, like in a storm, and Sam felt his tears fall when he didn't hear Dean return his calls, when he didn't see his brother jump through the fire. Sam shut his eyes, fighting against the pain and the heat around him, fighting against his fear that this was really happening and he was really dying…"Dean, help me! Wake me up, please, wake me up!"

But Sam was already awake.

And he knew it when he opened his eyes, and the fire was gone and the shadows were left floating around him in a cold wind- though not soothing at all for how his entire body felt afire. He let out a breath he held as he tried to calm himself down and recover from whatever just happened. He had his best idea of what had him now. It was a phantom attacker, just like their Dad had suspected ruled the area. And some phantom attackers were known to cause hallucinations, to bring back tragic events of the past and recreate them…but never so real, had Sam imagined it.

Through his jumbled thoughts and emotions Sam tried to sort through them and figure out a way he could get out.

He wondered why this phantom was being so vile to him for so long. Typically, the attacks are infrequent and, at most, only bothersome. Although, reports of phantom attackers had mentioned injuries of the victims, it'd be a rare occurrence for the phantom to actually take a life. They were malevolent, but not murderous. At least, Sam was hoping that to be true.

He felt his heart rate slow down dramatically from earlier and his breaths were coming easier. Behind his calming façade, he knew he had to get out soon and his mind was racing.

"All right," Sam started below a breath. "You've had your fun, now let me go," he pleaded with the darkness, wincing as the act of speaking made his chest ache.

At first there was only silence, but then he heard the stale wind move about the cave and the coolness of it wrapped around him uncomfortably.

"I've shown you the past…let me show you the future," a dark voice answered thickly. Sam ignored the shady undertone to the voice and focused on his environment, concentrating, waiting…

And the darkness around him lightened, and Sam swung around to see Dean clearly, standing a few feet away. He looked as if lights with no sources were shining down only on him, and Sam couldn't help but think it was a suitable notion that Dean was his light in the dark. A smile came to his face and he stepped forward to Dean. But Dean faltered back, his hands suddenly clutching his stomach, and Sam felt the scream edging its way out his throat before he even saw the blood dripping over his brother's hands.

-:-

"You…you're gonna help me save my brother?" Dean, who wasn't upset with the idea, couldn't help the question.

"It's the least I can do…after all, he's your family. You helped to save mine, so I will help to save yours," Riley answered the question matter-of-factly and then proceeded to walk to the other side of Dean, although he appeared to be hovering. Dean felt his face warm a little. He'd been thanked before for playing hero, but never had the favor been returned…much less, had a ghost from the great beyond offered to help instead of causing mayhem for the Winchester brothers. He wasn't quite sure how to handle it.

"I…well…"

"Thank me later. Right now, we have to move," Riley stated, pointing down a dark pathway. "There…"

Dean took his eyes off the vigorous spirit a moment, and released himself of any shock and confusion that was welling up inside him, and once again the harsh reality of Sam still missing hit him. And Dean was without breath again.

"How do you know?" Dean asked rightfully, not willing to let his guard down just yet.

"Because, that's where he takes all of them…" Riley said, starting to move forward. Dean reached to grab his shoulder and force him to stop, but he was dumbfounded at himself for trying to grab a spirit. He looked at his hand accusingly and huffed. His senses were getting away from him; although he angrily mused a moment at how unfair it was that ghosts could sometimes touch humans but not the other way around. Riley just turned slightly and looked at him.

"What do you mean 'he'? Who is 'all of them'?" Dean was demanding, not wanting to fall into some trap but not wanting to take too much time to interrogate a dead man when his brother was out there somewhere.

Riley seemed to sigh. "The phantom attacker who has been hunting here for a while. You think the Benders were responsible for every missing person here? They caused a lot of…grief…but they weren't alone in the act."

Dean hung his head. Fuck, their Dad was on to something and Dean overlooked it. Sam wanted to delve into it, but Dean had to ignore it…Shit. This was more his fault now than it already was.

"So, this creep has my brother, is what you're telling me?" Having a better handle, a better grip—a kind of knowledge as to what he was dealing with—allowed the fear to subside a little and his anger and determination to find Sam shine through. And it would shine blindingly.

"A couple miles or so ahead there's a cave. It's where he takes his victims," Riley announced, and Dean shuddered at the word 'victim' because he knew he meant Sam.

"Why haven't the cops found it, found the bodies?"

"Because," Riley became suddenly perturbed but kept patience in his tone. "The cave grounds are pretty much condemned; they're too much of a safety hazard. And when they have scouted the cave they never found anything. The bodies are never there because he doesn't keep them there,"

Dean scoffed. "No offense, but why am I supposed to believe any of this? How do I know you aren't leading me farther away from my brother instead of closer to him?"

"I just want to help, I have to help…"

"Just tell me how you know all this!" Dean's voice bellowed and the darkness seemed to cringe. He was becoming more impatient and more frustrated. This was wasting time, but Dean would rather be sure he was doing the right thing by following Riley than make a worse mistake.

Riley paled even more, becoming transparent and flickering in and out of sight like a bulb waiting to burn out. He wore a grimacing expression and there was sadness behind his eyes, a kind of sadness Dean saw before in his brother's eyes.

"He took her," Riley said, visibly struggling to keep his voice steady. "He took my fiancée, Cindy. I thought I could bring her back. No one believed me that some dark shape in the shadows pulled her away from me. And Kathleen tried to stop me from coming out here to look for her, but I told her I had to…and despite her concern, I left. I didn't expect some backwoods family would get to me before I got to the phantom… but I knew about this thing. I researched plenty about this thing…just, trust me. I want to help you,"

And although Sam was usually the one for sympathetic exchanges and understandings, Dean couldn't help but trust his instinct that Riley meant well. There was a dark honesty to his story that Dean could relate to, could understand…and it was as good a reason to trust him as any for the sake of his brother.

"I'm sorry, man, I…" and again, Dean didn't know what to say and was still in partial shock that he was talking to a ghost.

"This is why I need to help you. I couldn't save Cindy, but maybe I can help save your brother. Now, are you going to trust me, or not?"

"Yeah, I trust you," Dean confirmed, and he headed off in the direction that Riley was moving. He tried to run again but Riley suggested he save his strength for when they reached the cave. Dean, although bitter about the situation, complied.

Dean didn't stare at any one thing for too long. A branch here, a rock there, he kept his mind focused on anything else, trying not to imagine what his kid brother was going through right now. Just hang on, Sammy…

-:-

"Dean?" Sam frowned, staring at his brother in horror that only intensified with each shaky breath he heard Dean struggle with. He's losing so much blood…

"Sam, it's over."

"What? What happened…?" Sam tried to go to Dean but he couldn't move.

"It got me, Sam. Right after—" Dean suddenly coughed, blood spitting from his mouth. "After you left me."

"No…" Sam said, and he tried again to run over to Dean, but it felt as though something was holding him there and he couldn't break free. "No, it can't be happening!"

"Why did you leave, Sam? Why did you let it get me? Do you hate me that much?" Dean choked out, doubling over and coughing more. And Sam fought again from the invisible hold on him, and his heart ached to hear his brother ask such questions. His whole body was tingling with fear.

He wondered why this seemed so real, why it hurt so much…

He tried to make himself aware that this was just an illusion. Dean wasn't there. Dean's stomach wasn't gashed open. Dean was not going to die.

"This isn't real…you're not real," Sam tensed his body and held his head up, sucking in a deep breath. A look of betrayal seemed to flash in Dean's eyes.

"Sam, it—it really—hurts," he heard Dean's voice cry, saw Dean's body drop to the ground, and even though Sam knew it couldn't possibly be Dean, his resolve was crumbling each second he had to witness such a sight as his brother dying.

"Stop this! Leave me alone!" Sam shouted to the darkness. "This isn't real, I know it isn't!"

Ominous waves of laughter swam around Sam now, and he looked to where Dean had been and let out a small sigh of relief when he wasn't there anymore. Sam spun around, submerged in darkness once more. The laughter had stopped and he tried to brace himself for whatever might happen next.

The first thing he saw was a tiny glimmer of light, a mere reflective flash and then it was gone. He stared fixated on where the flash was- waiting to see it again, waiting to see it move…waiting to react.

He took in a breath. He let out another. He waited.

Silence.

Darkness.

Just him breathing in, and breathing out.

And he was waiting.

Breathing in. Breathing out.

In the darkness.

With the silence.

Until he felt the icy, rigid blade slithering over his abdomen.

And the darkness splintered, and the silence erupted, and he couldn't breathe anymore.

-:-

"How much farther?" Dean inquired hastily.

"We're almost there," Riley answered, turning briefly to notice the pained tension in Dean's face. "Can you make it?"

Dean looked up from the ground and into the spirit's incredulous, blue eyes.

"I'll make it," he affirmed, and though his voice was weak it did nothing to betray the determination in his eyes.

Riley was quiet for a moment but the silence was lacking from the break and crunch of twigs and leaves below Dean's boots. When his pace seemed to quicken again, Riley spoke.

"It's not your fault, you know?"

"Excuse me?" Dean asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"Your brother being taken—it wasn't your fault."

"Like hell it wasn't," Dean muttered. "I told him,"—he stopped with a sharp intake of breath as his own words were biting him in the ass. "I told him nothin' bad would happen to him as long as I was around…"

"You're his big brother. Of course you wouldn't let anything bad happen to him, just like my sister always took responsibility for me- more than she should have. Sometimes, bad things just happen. Sometimes, we're just not in control," Riley explained. The words hung around Dean threateningly, pulling his stomach into knots.

"I appreciate what you're trying to do and all, but…it doesn't matter what you tell me. I just couldn't live with—if anything happens to him—look," Dean paused as he breathed in every emotion he'd ever known and exhaled just the same. "I take care of him. He's my responsibility. In control or not- I find a way to bring him back, to keep him safe. It's what I do and I'll be damned if I can't do what I do best."

The two looked at each other, studied the other for some sense of understanding. Riley's case had logic, and Dean understood that more than he'd like to admit. Sometimes, you just were not in control. However, Dean's case had heart and dedication, and it seemed to be the Winchester way for devotion to often outweigh logic.

They broke their eye contact the second a petrified yell jostled the wind around them. Before Riley knew what was happening, Dean took off in a mad run. He seemed to struggle at first with the pain coursing through his body, diminishing the strength in his legs, but he limped his way into a full speed marathon run when he heard another yell for help.

"SAM!"

-:-

Consciousness. Awareness. Belief that it was happening.

It all hurt so much. It was all so hopeless now.

Before the object could slice through his skin, he kept one solitary thought in mind.

Dean.

He'd have to fight this one on his own, so he couldn't let fear win. He wasn't sure how he managed the strength, but somehow he'd pulled free from the dark force grappling him. He threw himself on the ground, inching his way on his hands and knees to someplace away from the threat. He didn't know what he was doing or what he could do to get out of this, but he knew he was going to give his attacker hell. If only he could see it.

Then he saw those red eyes glaring at him from a near distance, steadily moving closer, becoming more intimidating. As soon as he thought to jump back, something already had a hold of him.

Steel hands clutched onto his head, smothering it with stinging pain. He couldn't hold in the shock of the pain, and so he yelled. He cried out, for there was nothing else he could do.

A moment later he heard someone call out for him.

"SAM!"

He knew it was Dean. And suddenly, Sam had hope.

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To be Continued…


I struggled with this chapter; hopefully that doesn't show too much, lol. This idea is taking me very far from where I originally planned on taking it, so I'm kind of nervous about it because this thing has a mind all its own now. I think there's only one more part after this to torture you all with, so fret not. Thanks for reading, and thanks for sharing your thoughts.

Silver Kitten