Note: As always, I am very thankful for all the lovely reviews! I really appreciate them:)
And…I own Nothing about supernatural… well, life isn't perfect right? LOL
I hope you enjoy this chapter!
Chapter 8
Sam had been walking from corridor to corridor, secretively opening doors to check inside. Where the hell was that nun? She had to be around.
He knew pretty well his time was running short. Not only Dean's life was at stake, but Julie was not gonna let him walk around freely impelling his will upon her authority.
He had his gun prepared in case he needed.
Another corridor…several doors. Why had the hospitals to be huge like that? Floors, doors, section A, section B… it seemed not to have an end.
After 20 minutes going from door to door, he finally found her, sitting by the bed of a man. Her eyes were closed and she seemed to in some sort of trance. Observing, he noticed she was whispering some words.
Getting his gun ready, he silently approached her, trying to listen what she was whispering. The words were in Latin and for him, they sounded like an enchantment.
How shocking he thought the obvious. Of course it had something to do with spells. Praying was the last thing the woman would be whispering for the poor patients.
Sam took a good look at the man on the bed; he was in his 40's, good looking, dark hair, well dressed too. A wound could be well noticed on his head, his arms were all scratched, purple eye, cut lip… and the list would go on.
The man was in a real bad shape. Perhaps he was beat up … badly. Or he could have gotten involved in some accident. If there was something Sam knew about, were all the kinds of trouble that could cause so damage in a person. After all, the brothers had been like that more times than they could recall. Poor man he thought.
" Stop whatever you are doing". He said aiming his gun straight to her head. His voice sounded firm and angry.
The woman, who hadn't noticed Sam's presence in the room stopped right away and looked at him. She was in her 50's, her hair was slightly gray. Time had not been kind to her, as she seemed older than she probably was. No one would suspect such woman could harm a living soul. Looks can deceive. Sam remembered Meg, she didn't seem dangerous at first either. Just a girl trying to be independent… indeed, looks could deceive.
" Sammy. I was wondering how long you'd take to come back". She said normally, not giving a damn for the gun.
" Why is this happening to my brother?" he said closing and locking the door behind as he heard several footsteps coming along, the gun still aimed at her. He had nothing but coldness expressed on his face.
" Straight to the point". She looked at the man she had been enchanting too. He changed from a quiet sleep to disturbed one.
" They are dealing with their guilt Sam… I am not doing anything". She remained calm. Her tranquility was pissing Sam off. Although he was very patient, when the issue was his brother's life, his patience would just fall short.
" Bullshit! Cut the crap right now; tell me how to stop it".
As soon as Sam asked the question, they heard hard banging on the door. Someone was knocking hard on it. "Ma'am, is everything alright there?" It was the security guard. He had found out where the nun was… leading him straight to Sam as well.
He pressed the gun hard against the woman's temple.
" Say everything is fine". He whispered. She gave him a dirty look in disapproval.
" Ma'am!" The guard asked again. Sam looked at her angrily and pressed the gun harder on her head. She gazed at Sam; his eyes were full of hate. She was sure… at that moment; he was capable of anything, even sending her ass to a grave.
" Say it". He whispered again.
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Dean had managed to take a nap and have some disturbed dreams due the previous conversation. He kept his eyes closed, trying to get some more rest. He knew he had to keep his mind busy. Real memories were all he had to maintain his sanity, trying to concentrate in good things to keep his thoughts away from desperation. He didn't even want to rally the comments of his last chat. To think about loneliness…about being abandoned by the person he pretty much dedicated his life to, were not the best means to put himself together. Dean's childhood….or better yet, Dean's life as he had no childhood were about taking care of Sam, being a good son and hunting. Now a son of a bitch came along to distort all the good he had left.
Good thoughts Dean…come on… he began distracting himself. A bar…hamburger, lots of hot chicks, all of them giving me their numbers…hot shower…M&Ms…a shot gun to put a hole in the middle of that thing's head... " That would be nice" he whispered at the idea of killing his captor and getting to a bar.
How long would he be able to keep a grin on his face? That task was getting harder and harder. All his weak points were being fiercely attacked. If he could at least find the weak point of that freak. If he could go a little further inside that room and find something to pick the stupid lock of the chain that held him.
Just a bunch of ' ifs' … The fact was; he couldn't do a damn thing.
He didn't know how much time had passed by and he heard the door being once again unlocked
Be strong…you know how it works, just…don't lose it this time. He encouraged himself.
The noise of the door opening made Dean remember some movies he had watched some time ago. When a person had been kept as hostage…in some dirty room, every time a door was opened, the victims had their eyes wide opened and the freaking noise just made it all intense, all that to keep the viewers curious enough to see who was coming through the door. Another detail, the door was always opened very slowly.
Funny he thought, the person coming through the door was no mystery, and the door was opened quite fast and closed again, fast.
The thing approached Dean and noticed his eyes closed.
" Nap time is over, wake up!" It said firmly.
" Five more minutes" he mumbled, pretending to be as lazy as he could. A grin appeared on his lips.
The thing smiled back and gazed at Dean in deep concentration; he slightly moved his lips and mumbled a word. In a wink, Dean's body jerked and he found himself on sitting position. Again, against his will. Fuck! He thought. What else was this thing able to do?
" Bad mood, are we?" Dean said rubbing his eyes and adjusting himself to the induced position. He leaned his back on the bed.
The thing went out and came back a second later bringing a tray. On it there was a glass of water and a burger. The tray was placed beside Dean.
" Party time! Whoopee…" Dean said making fun. He grabbed the burger and started eating with some generous bites.
" I see you didn't give a second thought about our chat like I told you to".
" Yeah, sorry. My mind got busy thinking about girls and beer. It was more interesting".
" I see". The thing said getting the chair and sitting comfortably on it once more, gazing at Dean.
" Did you have sweet dreams?" He asked with satisfaction.
Wonderful! Dean thought. He dreamed about the day Sam left to college…the day his dad went missing... and he was alone.
" Wonderful dream, beaches, the sea, sun and the whole Village People members singing Y.M.C.A". Dean joked. He was not about to please his captor by confessing his fear.
" Sure you did, that's why you were mumbling your brother's name during your sleep". The thing kept staring at Dean, whose smile faded. A serious expression took over.
" So, what comes next uh?" He had some sarcasm on his words. " You want to make me feel guilt for World war? Hungry people in Africa? What?"
The thing kept his smile on. "You got it all wrong, didn't you? I am not here to blame you Dean. Everything I said was nothing but truth. It's part of your life…your decisions."
Dean kept his silence; he wouldn't give this guy any ammo for his own execution.
" You can't escape from your ghosts Dean. You try to make your way, you fight scary screwed up evil day after day…yet, your biggest battle…is within you. This grin on your face fools no one…it doesn't fool me".
" That's touching, really. Heartbreaking, but I heard it all before". Dean didn't give up his confidence this time. Of course he was shaken inside, and the trick was not to show it off.
" Your confidence is brilliant. I admire that. How strong you can be after all you've been through…just keep something on your mind. I still have a goal to achieve…and I won't give it a break until I do…think about it Dean".
By saying so, the thing approached Dean and abruptly grabbed his throat, pushing Dean harshly into a lying position. The captor closed his eyes and mouthed a few words never letting go of Dean's neck, who was struggling to breath.
" Son of a bitch" Dean gagged. He had both of his hands trying to push the thing away from his throat. Not successfully. Little by little, Dean felt weak, like if someone had just given him some sleeping pills… his vision getting blurred… and his senses were giving in. What was that all about? Why pass through such mind torture and end up killed like that? It didn't make any sense! There was no one to save him, no one to kick the door and save his butt.
Dean was almost giving in to darkness when he noticed the strong grip getting loose and his throat was free again. Those seconds felt like an eternity to him. He began quickly inhaling air in desperation, coughing a little, and attempting to get his breathing to normal.
Gee! Had the thing felt sorry for him? Not likely! Maybe that was just to scare Dean a little, or a lot!.
He didn't really care, all that matter was, what would happen as soon as he opened his eyes, his senses were slowly coming back to him. Dean had no idea what else could be used against him, which memories.
Something shocked the heck out of Dean when finally managed to get his eyes opened. He found himself, sitting on a bench, inside a huge church.
What the hell?
Wasn't he supposed to be lying on a bed, with that freak staring at him? He took a good look on himself. He was wearing a white shirt and black tie, black suit and black pants. Then he took a look around…no one else was there. The place was dead, not another living soul, only an extended line of empty benches and flowers. The windows were dark in a matter he couldn't tell if it was day or night.
Taking a deep breath he got up and walked to the main door and tried it. Locked.
"Helloooo!" he screamed. The only response was the echo of his own voice screaming 'hello' back. " Shit".
He had a weird sensation; it all seemed to be happening in slow motion inside his head. He rubbed his sore neck and began checking the place.
That was a typical church, angels and saints painted on the wall and on the ceiling, sculptures of saints all over, wooden benches…and silence. The silence was what bothered him the most.
Dean… he heard his name being whispered. He turned around and for the first time he paid attention to the altar. In front it, there were two coffins.
" Oh God…" what was about to come now? He let out a sigh. " Anything but this…"
He took small steps and began walking toward the coffins, very slowly, swallowing hard the knot he felt in his throat.
He approached one of the coffins and carefully opened it.
" Dad". He whispered. John Winchester was lying on it, his arms crossed on his chest. Dean squeezed his eyes shut, the image of his dead father was more than he had prepared himself for.
Then he gazed to the other coffin. He knew who was inside. His hands were shaking and his strength was betraying him.
He opened the other coffin. Now the tears couldn't be held anymore…they ran through Dean's face like a waterfall.
" No…Sammy".
The lights of the church suddenly went out, leaving only the two candles by his family's coffins lighting the place up.
For the first time, Dean felt really alone…no one to rely on, no one to rescue, no expectations.
" What is this supposed to mean uh? You want to show me what loneliness feel like! I know what it feels like…you fucking asshole!" Dean screamed at the top of his voice.
" Is this a test? You wanna blame me for that too…you freak…you wanna blame me for that!" Dean shouted angrily, kneeling on the floor and letting the tears come.
The twisted game had just gone too far. Dean knew he'd rather die first protecting his father and especially his brother, than dealing with their death.
" That's enough…please…" he pleaded, avoiding to look at the coffins.
After a few seconds Dean heard roars of laughter…distant and evil.
" You are all alone!" His own voice echoed. And the laughter went on, louder than before.
" No!" Dean screamed squeezing his eyes shut.
When he opened them again, he realized that he was back in the room, still lying on the bed, still chained, that freak was still around.
His body and face all sweaty, his breathing was hard and his heart was beating fast. He felt his throat dry, his emotions confused.
He looked at the door and saw his captor staring at him.
" Put your misery to an end Dean" . The thing gave Dean and dirty look and closed the door.
Dean only understood what he was told, when he looked at the chair by his bed.
A gun had been placed on it… a loaded gun.
That's it for this chapter. I hope you liked and please, please, leave reviews! I'd love to know your opinion! Great week for everyone! ;)
