Bedeviling the Chipper

By: Maygin

Summary: "Loneliness is never more cruel than when it is felt in close propinquity with someone who has ceased to communicate." – Germaine Greer

Disclaimer: I am not making any money off of nor do I own anything supernatural… other than my roommate.

Authors Lament: Okay, just so you know, I'm a little wary of this chapter. I keep reading it over and I just can't figure what needs tweaking. So let me know.Also, I'd like to thank Tricksters Apprentice for her official stamp of approval… I should get a sticker or something! That's awesome! Joou Himeko- no more eating food while reading my stories, they're not spew worthy ;) Kaewi- I am very surprised at how little Sam is in this too because he's my favorite, I really wasn't sure if people would flow with this, but apparently some people are just as weird as me! Geminigrl- …I just love that you used the word kudos!

CHAPTER 10

"Hello scary building… I see you are still looking quite decrepit a desolate… so hey, why don't I just come on in there and whack you with my blessed hankie?"

"You are one disturbed individual." Dean stepped over some soggy cardboard amongst the abandoned streets and buildings; throwing a concerned glance to his partner who looked quite calm despite the last 48 hours. They reached the open, concrete doorway of the ominous-looking building Dean was becoming quite familiar with and walked inside. He already knew exactly where they were going.

"I'm a gay man being haunted by a half-dead brother and carrying around a hankie as a weapon… speaking to walls is the least of my problems."

"So what was it? Did you get picked last in gym class? Lose the blue-prints to your tree-house? …Someone steal your football?"

"Have you heard of this amazing process out there? It's called clarification."

"Oh god you sound like Sam." He grumbled, but suddenly his head was swinging around to Cal.

"Nope; sorry sugar. And I haven't got a clue what you're talking about."

"Your childhood… what manly act did you miss out on that made you-… you?"

Cal was surprised to say the least by the line of questioning. He could only surmise that Dean was obviously missing him and his brother's daily banter so much so that he felt the need to fill the void in some way. "Well Mr. Sensitive, if you must know my father was in the Navy so he was never around. My mother practically raised me. But he made sure I went to an all boy's school. You know… to make a man outta me." Cal snorted, "Boy was he surprised when I brought back my prom date the one night he was actually home."

Dean actually let out a short laugh. If anything because he could just imagine the look on his father's face had he or Sam brought home a prom date of the same gender. And again, Laura Winters popped into his mind.

"So what did you miss out on in your childhood?"

Dean gave a sharp shake of his head, moving through the next room. "Other than our mom? Nothing, I loved my childhood."

"You say that as if someone else didn't."

Dean's mouth set into a grim line as they stepped into the connecting room. "It was harder on Sam. He grew up in this."

"So did you." Cal pointed out.

Dean shook his head, sliding back a piece of plastic acting as a door and stepped into the room. "I had a good five years of normalcy. Sam didn't. He doesn't know what it's like to have two parents who love you and treat you like a kid instead of a hunter; who'll play games with you or…" he stopped in front of the plastic covering the little room where, by the smell of it, the body still laid. His words sounded tired and a bit defeated. "…who'll hold you and tell you everything's gonna be alright when you think there's a monster in your closet."

Cal realized there was more to that statement than met his ears. "He had you." He stated as if bringing the simplest fact to light.

Dean hesitantly glanced at him. "Let's hope that enough." He mumbled before pulling back the sheet of plastic and looking straight up. Just because he worked with corpses and evil dead every day didn't mean he enjoyed looking at them.

"Oh my gawd!" Cal back-peddled a few feet and quickly sought out the cleanest air in the room with which to calm his heaving stomach. "Are you sure that's human?"

"Yup." Dean's eyes roamed the ceiling.

"Oh, that's horrific!"

Dean's brow twitched suddenly and he looked down. He started shoving the corpse with his shoes; sliding it across the floor against the wall.

"Oh my gawd, what are you doing?" Cal asked sickly, hearing the scuffling noise from across the room.

Dean knelt down and stared at the floor where the body had once laid, that lump of lead in his gut re-appearing. A pair of black handprints burned into the concrete floor stared mockingly back at him.

"Dean?" Cal's voice sounded a bit hesitant.

"Yeah." He answered distractedly.

"Where's the body?"

"Two feet from where you last saw it." Dean answered in frustration.

"No, I mean Eddies."

Dean was on his feet and looking to the place the zombie had supposedly died. "Damn." He couldn't believe he'd actually missed that. He was definitely off his game.

"Don't say that. Don't say damn. Damn insinuates that something bad is going to happen." Cal rambled nervously.

"Come on." Dean backed out of the room with one last glance before heading back towards the stairwell; Cal close on his heels.

Cal paused though as the elder brother started going up the stairs instead of down. "Where are you going?"

"I need to check something else out."

Cal ran after him, "What about Eddie the Ex-delivery Boy?"

"Quit worrying." Dean reached the third-story and checked the rounds in his shotgun. "I'm a good shot."

"Yeah, because that worked so well last time."

Dean threw an annoyed glare his way. "He was dead alright? That thing- revived him or something." He moved through the doorways, following the familiar pattern of the second and first floors.

"Wait, wait, wait… so it brought the un-dead, dead guy back to undead life?"

"Something like that." Dean wasn't really paying attention to the man behind him anymore. They had stepped into the room above the room above the incident. This time though there was no smaller, connecting room, just one large one. And right where he had predicted was another black smear where the ceiling and floor had been touched by fire.

"I don't get it." Cal stared at the black marks.

"Sam was right." Dean sighed. "That thing was here the other night."

"To kill Sam?"

Dean shook his head absently. "That doesn't make sense. If the thing wanted him dead, he'd a been dead a long time ago. I just-" he broke off with a sigh, stepping further into the room, the weariness of the last couple days laying heavily on his features.

"Okay," Cal too stepped further into the room, wanting to offer his assistance. "What if it wanted Sam's powers; the shining- or whatever you call it like he said before?"

"But why like this? Why separate his soul from his body?" Dean paused. The kind of pause brought on by the mysterious light-bulb above the head effect. "He can't do it."

Cal waited on the edge of his seat. Something had obviously clicked into place in the elder Winchester's head. Dean turned to him, a disbelieving grin pulling at one corner of his mouth.

"He can't absorb his power." Dean announced. He couldn't believe it was this simple. "It separates Sam's soul from his body in such a way that it becomes attached to this plane… and then it just sits back and waits for Sam's spirit to decompose."

"Why?"

"He can't absorb the Shining, so what would be the next best thing?"

"Karaoke?"

"Having a poltergeist with the Shining as its lapdog."

Cal's eyebrows twisted, "What, like a slave?"

"More like a personal assistant."

Cal looked a little ill at what the other man was proposing. "You don't honestly think Sam would help that thing."

"If he keeps spiking? Sam won't have a clue who he is… he'll be like every other Poltergeist out there, only a helluva lot more powerful."

"And paired up with the thing that killed your mom and his girlfriend…"

Dean sighed, the heavy weight of defeat once more pressing down. If this wasn't his ultimate failure he didn't know what was; handing his baby brother over to the hands that started this whole mess in the first place. Who the hell thought he was qualified for this anyways?

"Dean."

The brother turned at the suddenly tense whisper, searching the other man's face.

"I think he's back."

The switch from distracted anger to alert-fullness was immediate, as Dean turned to where Cal had pointed, his shot gun raised and his ears open. "Where?"

"Eddie… over there." He raised a shaking finger again.

Dean peered into the shadows near the corner of the room where a few rusting metal cabinets sat. He didn't see anything else, but he waited. "You sure?"

"Yeah it's- wait." Cal suddenly bumped into the brother's back.

Dean turned aiming the other way, but still there was nothing. Cal let out a small shriek and jumped around, facing the other way again.

"Damnit Cal." Dean cursed, searching the room for their perpetrator.

"What if there's more than one?" Cal fisted his hand in the brother's jacket. Cal felt a cold pressure of air at his back and turned with a shriek. "Samuel!" he cried in relief, holding a hand to his pounding heart once more. "You're gonna give me a heart-attack sweetie!"

"Sam?" Dean asked hopeful.

"Yeah." Cal nodded. He straightened up again, but paused at the look the youngest Winchester was giving him. It was a look lacking comprehension, a look of distrust. "Sam?"

And suddenly Cal was being tossed like a rag doll across the room. He landed non-too-gently on his backside and slid the last few feet to a stop. Dean turned wide eyes back to the empty space between him and his invisible brother… but he couldn't force himself to raise the shotgun.

"Sam?" Dean shouted desperately. He tightened his grip on the weapon. "What the hell are you doin buddy? Come on, it's me!" His eyes searched the room. "It's your brother Dean, remember me?" He stood there, tense; waiting. Nothing happened. "Cal?" he asked cautiously, not turning his head.

"I think I got another splinter," Cal whined.

"He still here?" Dean ignored; if the man was talking, he was fine.

"Yeah." Cal groaned as he pushed his thin frame to a standing position, rubbing his butt and gingerly coming to stand behind the older brother. He peeked around Dean's shoulder at Sam, who was staring at Dean warily. "I think he recognizes you."

"He damn well should. I've only been in his face the past twenty-three years."

Cal watched the recognition suddenly click into place, and his brother's name spoken on the younger man's lips. "He's calling you." Cal nudged Dean's back.

"Yeah I'm right here Sam," Dean sighed with relief. "You with us again?"

"He wants to know what's happening." Cal translated, still hiding behind the older brother, not certain his presence was appreciated yet.

"You were right Sam. The thing that killed mom and Jessica… it came after you."

"He doesn't know what thing you're talking about, and um…" he pressed his lips together, "he doesn't remember Jessica."

Dean fought his facial expressions; the last thing he needed to do was make Sam think his frustration was directed towards him. Well… technically it was, but more towards what the situation had done to his brother. It just wasn't fair. "Alright Sam, you know I'm your brother right?"

"Yeah." Cal answered for him.

"And as your brother you trust me right? I'm serious here."

There was a moment's pause where Cal waited for the younger man's answer, who was looking quite confused. "Yes, he trusts you."

"Alright, then I need you to listen to me very carefully okay? There is this thing out there that attacked you, and it started a chain reaction that is causing you to lose yourself- your memories. You're probably feeling a little angry right now? Got a lot of pent-up negative energy goin on?"

Cal watched the younger brother carefully. He was still being overly cautious, even with his brother. He supposed even some of the memories of him and his brother had been lost too. Having holes in ones timeline tended to put most people in a distrustful state of mind. Underneath the wariness though he could also see the barely contained anger… rage. Sam was practically vibrating with it.

He realized he'd been holding his breath waiting for the younger man to answer, so he let it out slowly. "He nodded yes."

"Good-"

"He wants to know why you can't hear him." Cal interrupted. "Or see him."

Dean sighed; he didn't know how much to tell his little brother in his current state of mind. "Do you remember what we do for a living?"

"Yes."

"Do you remember why?"

"He doesn't."

"A demon killed our mom Sam, when you were still a baby. We've been hunting supernatural things ever since; but the thing that killed mom… it came back for you."

"Yes." Cal answered Sam's questioning if the demon and his attacker were one in the same.

"The demon did something to you; it separated your spirit from your body. And for some fucked up reason the only one that can see or hear you is Cal." Cal gave a small wave over Dean's shoulder. "And he's gay… so you know, don't be nice to him or anything cuz he might propose to you when this is all over."

Cal slapped Dean's shoulder half-heartedly. He knew he wasn't intentionally being an ignorant jackass, well- okay he was, but it was for his brothers sake… anything to help calm that raging storm inside him; bring a little light-heartedness to the inferno. Sam actually directed his question to Cal this time, a little more trusting apparently after his brother's joke. "He wants to know what's happening to him."

Dean licked his lips, "You're spiking… it's-" He made a frustrated grunt. "You're turning into the very thing we hunt." He was going to calmly explain the entire process yet again, but felt father time was looking at him expectantly, tapping his watch.

"How do we stop it?" Cal translated.

And this was the question he had hoped to avoid. "I don't know." He answered honestly.

"What happens if he keeps spiking?"

Okay, so maybe this was the question he'd been hoping to avoid. "Then you turn poltergeist and buddy up with the thing that killed mom."

"And basically become unstoppable?" Cal asked quietly.

"Yeah." Dean answered.

"You have to stop the process."

"I already told you Sam I don't know how."

There was a brief pause. "At Saint Lukes Hospital." Cal answered the young man's question. "Yeah, it's still alive; barely."

"Look Sam, we're gonna figu-"

"He wants you to promise you won't let the process finish."

"I promise Sam." Dean answered without hesitation. Lord knows he'd demand the same thing too were he in his brother's position.

"He says no matter what, you can't let him become that."

"I won't, I promise."

Another pause. "Are you sure?" Cal asked the spirit, not at all liking what he was hearing.

"What?" Dean asked curiously.

Cal swallowed and spoke quietly, reverently. "He says he thinks if you let his body die, it'll stop the process."

Dean shook his head, a little shocked at the rude suggestion. "No way. Every other poltergeist out there became what they are because their body died."

"He says exactly. The spirits of those people separated from their bodies after they died. His separated prematurely… unnaturally. He thinks if the body dies before the spiking process culminates, it'll nullify and his spirit won't be bound here."

"It won't come to that." Dean said firmly.

Cal's hand suddenly twisted into Dean's jacket in fear. "He says it already has." His voice was quietly tense.

"What?" Dean glanced back at the other man, eyes wide at the implications he knew where being thrown his way. A small rattling sound appeared from the corner of the room as the metal cabinet's drawers started shaking in place, not much, but enough for the point to be driven home.

"Dean, he says we should go." Cal instructed urgently, pulling slightly on the jacket still fisted in his hand.

Dean fought it, "This isn't it Sam, we still got time." The metal cabinet suddenly flew backwards, crashing loudly into the concrete wall. "Damnit!" Dean yelled in anger.

"Dean!" Cal pulled desperately on the other man's jacket. An old florescent light bulb resting against the wall suddenly exploded sending tiny shards of glass into their exposed skin. "We have to go!" He gave one last tug and together the two men sprinted for the stairway. The entire trek through the building they were defending against any type of free-floating object that had suddenly turned lethal. This had definitely been the worst spike yet, it seemed to be engulfing more than just the building; for as they ran towards the car, random debris in the streets started flying about and the streetlights started popping as the bulbs shattered.

The two men practically dove into the car and Dean shoved it into gear and tore out of the parking lot making a beeline for the hospital. Neither man spoke. It was the longest four minutes of Dean's life.

Cal breathed heavily beside him, trying to slow his pounding heart and his shaking hands. "Are we doing what I think we're doing?" he asked resolutely.

A long pause passed between them. Dean swallowed, his eyes never leaving the road. "I made a promise."

TBC…