Disclaimer: Stephen King and Warner brothers are the only geniuses here. I only hope that my misadventures using their characters and themes do not offend them. I am merely a poor student, who will remain poor.
The truck at the end of last chapter comes from the Stephen King's book, not the season finale, but "huzzzza" for coincidences!
Sam sat on the rim of the tub in Eileen's bathroom. It was almost noon. Both Eileen and Rachel had knocked on the door trying to bring him food; a change of cloths, or Band-Aids.
Sam wouldn't open the door though. He sat there, replaying the events of the past several hours over and over again. Flashing images and events filled his mind:
Dean on the road walking towards him. Then Dean on the road 55 feet ahead of him. Dean's blood on the road. Dean not moving. The truck driver standing outside the cab, his head in hands. Rachel running to the driver. And Eileen kneeling beside Dean.
All this before Sam got his feet moving. He didn't need to run over to Dean to know that he was dead. You didn't get hit head on but a truck going 100 and dragged 55 feet and get back up. In the back of Sam head thought 'If I don't go over there and see him, then he can't be dead.'
Sam tuned into reality when he heard the truck engine come on, and it started moving off. Sam blinked back the tears. "HEY!" But he was shushed by Rachel's hand on his chest. She spoke to him in a soothing voice.
"This will haunt him forever. But it doesn't have to haunt you." Her eyes suddenly didn't seem cloudy anymore. Maybe it was his own blurring vision. He nodded as the thoughts connecting in his mind. 'No, Dean doesn't have to be dead. Rachel's not dead, Gage wasn't dead, even the cat. I can fix this.'
So Sam sat on the tub, staring down at his hands. They where cut up pretty bad. Caked with dirt and blood. His blood, and Dean's blood. The earth of the Micmac burial ground was hard and stony. Eileen had a pick and shovel but the work was back breaking. They said he had to do it himself. Dig the hole himself, bury Dean himself. Then build a cairn on top. And that's what Sam did. He placed the last stone meticulously on the top as the sun rose.
He didn't even remember the walk back. It was all a blur. I painful blur of picking Dean off the road. Trying not to break down when Dean's head rolled unnatural around. He hoped it would stay a blur.
A knock came again, and when Sam didn't answer again, there was the sound of clinking metal and the knob turned. Sam didn't bother looking up as Eileen entered the bathroom and sat beside him on the tub.
After a few minutes of awkward silence, Eileen starting talking. "The neighbors think a deer was hit this morning. The truck driver will say the same. Anything to avoid the truth.
So no one will ever know. You need to get cleaned up Sam. You'll see, everything will be okay."
Sam laughed at the absurdity of saying that everything would be okay. "Dean died! He died and I buried him! I buried him!"
"You did the right thing, Sam. You've see my mother, she's fine, just as she was before she died. We got Dean up there as fast as my Dad had brought her. Dean will be back, he'll come to you." She patted him on the shoulder and went back out, closing the door behind her.
Sam felt the tug of unconsciousness; of long overdue rest, so he slid down to the floor. As he drifted off he soothed his soul be repeating in his head: 'Dean will be back.'
No one came to him in his dreams, it was past any point of warning.
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Sam woke to the sound of footsteps in the hall. His neck cracked as he straightened. A glance out the window showed darkness, his cell told him it was 10:04 pm. He briefly considered calling his Dad. 'Bet this would be the first time he would pick up too.' The thought of having to admit to his failure was unbearable, his father wouldn't understand. 'Dad, Dean died. But it's okay. I'm expecting his return any time now.'
The footsteps returned crossing the door in the opposite direction. Sam listened to the footfalls, heard it pivot, then walk by the door again. Dean was pacing outside the bathroom. He swallowed as his stomach flip-flopped. He simple realized that it was Dean. He could feel him, it was like another sense had been added.
Sam pushed himself off the ground, ignoring the ach from his stiff and sore body. It didn't matter. All that matter was Dean was on the other side of the door. 'Church came back slow. But he was still Church. If Dean can't open doors anymore, that's fine. I'll open them from now on.' Placing his hand on the knob, Sam paused. The pacing stopped too. Sam closed his eyes for a moment of silent prayer. A prayer that it would be Dean. A whole Dean. His brother. His. But then he'd accept Dean no matter how he came back. So it really didn't matter.
Sam pulled open the door in one hard and fast motion.
The hall was empty.
Save for the fresh tracks of muddy footprints everywhere. 'Dean was here.'
"Dean?" Sam called out as he started walking to the stairs. He went down onto the main level. A glace to the left revealed the front door, open wide. Sam could just barely make out the blackness of the path opening from across the lawn. It was vibrating again. As it had the first time in his vision. But this time it was real. The sound of shuffling and a whimper brought Sam's mind back to the house. Sam turned around, and came right into the face of an old man. He looked to be in his 50's, he was muddy and bloody but his hair was stark white between the streaks of blood, and his eyes flared with insanity. 'Louis?' The man gave him a toothy smile. It reminded him of a clown in a child's nightmare. Then Louis looked passed him. The Dean sense tingled, and Sam turned around back to the door.
Dean stood in the doorway, blocking the view of the path. He was a caked on mess of dirt and dried blood. Both his hands where behind his back. Sam looked into his eyes, and hazy hazel ones looked back at him.
"Dean?" Sam chocked out.
"In the reanimated flesh." Dean ground out.
"Dean!" Sam ran forward, intent on hugging Dean and refusing to ever let go. That's why he was totally caught off guard when Dean's arm came out and pushed him to the side so that he crashed into the wall. Sam was so caught up in his sudden rejection that he didn't realize Louis had followed right after him when he had moved to embrace Dean. He didn't see the impact between Louis and Dean as his own face met the wall. Sam watched through tear strained eyes as Dean pushed Louis off of himself with the same hand he had brushed off Sam with. He watched in detached horror as Dean's other hand came out in front holding the axe. It was bloody.
Louis hunched over as Dean brandished the axe. "You ungrateful bastard! We saved you! You should know better!" Louis shouted indignantly. Dean threw his head back and laughed.
"You should have known better." Dean said as he ran into Louis axe first. Sam stood in shock as the sound of flesh tearing filled the air, followed by an enraged cry of pain from Louis. Dean straightened as Louis hit the ground. "You should have thought ahead. Your not needed anymore." The whimpers rose up again. And Dean turned his head sharply towards the source: the kitchen. Sam's knees gave out and he slid to the floor for the second time that day; Dean's head had turned towards the kitchen, the kitchen was behind him. The turn was unnatural, 60 degrees. A memory flashed of picking Dean up off the ground and his head rolling, the neck bones broken. 'Oh god.'
"Yes?" Dean asked Sam, moving away from the corpse formally known as Louis. "Didn't mean to wake you from your beauty sleep Sammy. You've slept through most of the fun. I'm going to finish off a couple things here, you should go get cleaned up." He said just before passing out of sight behind the stairs to the kitchen, Dean paused and looked into Sam. "It's a tie." He said smoothly then Sam heard the kitchen door open and a fresh round of whimpers followed.
Sam picked himself up onto his shaky legs and bolted for the kitchen. He raced in to find a scene right out of a horror flick. The once white farm kitchen was painted a sicken blood hue. Appliances where on the floor, the table was broken in two. Bloody hand prints where everywhere, accompanied by slides of blood. Like people trying to crawl away then being dragged back. His eyes first fell on Rachel, well, a part of her. His eyes followed the parts like a game of connect the dots- to Dean, whose back was turned from him.
"Geezes Sam, can't you fellow orders once?"
"Dean?" Sam spoke in a shaky voice. "Dean?" Sam heard Dean sigh, and turn around. Eileen was bunched up in Dean's arms, her face a mask of fear.
"Yes, Sam, it's me. They just forgot to tell you a couple important things when they had you haul my dead ass up to the burial grounds. Like the truth. Isn't that right sweetheart?" Dean asked looking down at Eileen, giving her an almost playful smack on the forehead.
"Gage came back a mean little guy, didn't he Elly?" When she didn't respond Dean smacked her forehead a little harder, she then nodded. "You told Sam that Jud went nuts on them. How about some truth?" Eileen hiccupped. She kept her glaze down.
"Gage killed Jud, and…and Mom."
"Don't forget the eating her part. That's a crucial detail."
"He didn't mean it! He wouldn't do that! He wasn't buried at the Micmac grounds soon enough. Mom was fine. You killed her you bastard!
"Fine? You helped It get us up here, you made sure it happened. I'm just making us Even-Stephen." Dean gave the thoughtful pause. "Or maybe I am a bastard. This could all be because Wendigo Sr. touched me before I became road kill."
Sam pushed down his fear. He hated the feeling of fearing his brother. "Dean, let her go. Please."
"Let her go? Are you bugshit? Who do you think sent us the e-mail Sam? Huh?" Dean asked pointing at Eileen, who continued to hiccup.
Sam shook his head, 'No...no it was Dad.'
"It wasn't Dad. The place had us all figured out. You were right on one thing Sam, it is alive. But you where completely off on the rest. Things have been slow around these parts. People don't believe anymore. So it needed to find some believers. It's had its way with the Creeds for 2 decades. It needed fresh meat. We apparently have quite the reputation amongst the things that go bump in the night."
Sam looked down at Eileen. And said in a soft, beaten voice. "You sent us the e-mail. Sent us to Steve, brought us here. For fertilizer?"
"She even caused your vision! Using her own psych abilities and It's power. You're going to have to learn that little trick Sammy."
"Let her go Dean. And let's get out of here. We'll call Dad-" The crack of Eileen's neck being twisted stopped him. The bile rose in his throat as he watched her body hit the ground. It all added up to more gore then Sam could handle. He bent over and spewed the remnants of yesterday sandwiches with the old ladies.
Sam whipped his month and looked at the body of Louis on the floor in the entryway. Then moved around with the pieces of Rachel. Before falling onto Eileen. 'One messed up family. Louis was insane, but human, he should have been locked up, not killed. Rachel was dead. Is dead, was dead.' Sam still didn't know how to classify her, how to classify Dean. 'What have I done?'
Dean voice pulled him out into reality. He was kneeling beside Sam, rubbing his back.
"They had it coming Sam. Louis brought me near to the road. Then had the Wendigo chase me out onto it. Rachel and Eileen brought you over to Jud's, to make you sympathic, make sure you'd bring me to the Micmac burial ground. But also to make sure that I'd cross the road to get to you. 'It' saw to the truck coming along just in time. How were we supposed to fight 5 forces working against us?"
Sam couldn't bring himself to look up. So he spook to the floor. "What is It then?"
Dean chewed his lip for a moment; "Well…umm…Did you ever see The Lord of the Rings? I guess it's something like the ring? You know, but real. Think of the Wendigo as the evil guy, the one who made the ring. The Wendigo turned the Land. It gave the Land a will of it's own. The Ring gave the nasty little dude a long life, and drove him nuts. Well, the Land kind of does the same thing."
"You watched The Lord of the Rings?" Sam asked, forcing out a weak laugh. 'Are you saying your insane? Or that I am?'
"Hey! The elf chick was hot!" Dean laughed.
It just made Sam feel more sick. 'It really is Dean. He came back to me. Just like Eileen said. Just like Jud said.-pause- Jud! He'll have answers.' Sam stood up, averting his eyes from the chaos. "Dean, stay here."
Dean stood up and blocked his way. "You think Jud will have some answers? You don't think you can talk to me!"
Sam blanched at Dean's harsh tone. 'He can read my thoughts?' He remembered Abbey's story about Timmy; how Timmy would look into your eyes and know your deepest darkest secrets.Dean's left eye twitched.
"Thanks for the comparison, man."
"You just killed people, Dean. I mean. Gah, I don't know."
"I didn't do anything Sam. You did. This-" Dean spread his arms indicating the whole situation. "-this is all yours."
Sam felt quilt wash over him. 'He came back to me. He's my responsibility. Whatever he does is my fault.' "What are you suggesting then?"
Dean smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "One fucked up family should be replaced by another. Call Dad. You've always wanted to settle down. Well. A mop, some body bags and this place will do just fine. Can't you feel the vibrations Sam? We're home."
'Oh god.' The bile won again and Sam was back on the floor. He vaguely heard Dean say something about having to clean that up.
Dean watched Sam for a minute then left the kitchen, stepping over Louis body as he went out the front door. He fumbled for a few moments with the car keys as came around to the trunk. He started rummaging for a couple bags of cloths and other such personal items, but then with his head buried in the trunk he stopped. He was still for a moment before pulling himself up, and slamming the trunk lid down. "Get the fuck out of my car Jud!" The figure in the passenger seat made no movements.
Dean huffed and came around the passagener side. The window was rolled down, and Dean leaned in. "Your not a useful sort of fellow now are you Jud?" Jud kept quite. "Fat lot of good you did anyone. But that was all you where before too. Couldn't keep yourself from sharing with Louis, then when things got out of your hands you tried getting in the way. You failed. But trying to stop this again. tisk Jud. Harassing me at the school." Jud whispered something back, but even Dean could pick it out.
"Repeat." Dean said in a firm aggressive voice.
"Your unnatural, your evil."
Dean smiled. "So says a ghost. I think it's time for you to stop bush whacking around here and get going to hell. Sam and I are going to be just fine by ourselves. Sam's stronger then Louis, and has far more potential then Eileen. He won't leave here, not without me. And I'm not going anywhere."
Jud grabbed a fist full of Dean's blood streaked shirt. "Dean! If your still there, think of your brother. I know your lost, but don't let It live off your Sam. The way It drove Louis mad, used Eileen to see the world, and Rachel to hold them together. Don't let It do it to your family."
"Dead dude, it's already done." With that Dean pulled out a banishing pouch that Missouri had given them. He tossed it into the car. And Jud was gone, without even a scream.
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Sam wiped his mouth on his sleeve. 'Pull yourself together, Sam! You have to help Dean. You got him into this, now you have to get him out!'
"Sometimes dead is better." A voice with a thick Yankee accent called out in his head, by the last syllable the voice was nothing but a cracked whisper. 'Jud?' Sam didn't get a response.
"Nah, it's just me." Dean said reentering the kitchen. Sam watched Dean fuss about the house. Filling buckets of water and soap. Picking up Rachel body parts and bagging them. He went about the task in a manner that reminded Sam of Jess spring cleaning their apartment. He asked Sam to help a couple times, but didn't press the issue when Sam didn't respond. 'He's spring cleaning a massacre.' When the bodies where bagged and in the garage Dean started mopping the kitchen, whistling 'The cat came back' as he did so.
"Dude? You there?" Sam fell back when he refocused to find Dean standing right in front of him. He could stop himself from backing away once on his feet. "I asked what you thought?"
"Thought of what?"Samasked, not really wanting to know
"Of throwing the bags into the woods? The Wendigo would probably like it." Sam stared at him. 'He asked that as casually as if they were bags of rotten vegetables…and not people.' Sam watched Dean head out into the garage. "And Sam?"
"Yeah?"
"Maybe you could invite those old ladies over for a card game this week. I liked to hear some of those ghost stories you got from them myself." Dean turned and gave a wolfish grin reveling a bit of pink flesh stuck between his teeth.
Sam ran into the bathroom and stared into the mirror. 'I made Dean a monster, and now I've got to live with it…god, I'm a hypocrite. Dad would-I don't know what Dad would do. Could he kill Dean? Would he kill Dean to save him from being a monster? I can't call Dad, because he might actually do it. And I couldn't stand it. It's my fault, not Deans.'
Then the Sam in the mirror look at him with accusing eyes; "Dean wouldn't want to be a monster." Mirror Sam said to Sam.Sam looked away and out the bathroom window, he could see Dean walking across the lawn towards the path with a large body shaped bag over his shoulder.
"Sometimes dead is better."
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