Dean groaned slightly and came to realize that he was on his back. One part of his body was warmer than the other part and he could feel every muscle in his body yelling at him not to move. He groaned again and raised a stiff arm to his head, shielding his eyes as he cracked them open. The blinds had let a beam of sunlight into the room, the cause of one half of his body's abnormal temperature.
He rolled over and glanced around, relief spreading through him when he realized that he was on the blue carpeted floor of the motel room. As he stood up he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and had the overwhelming urge to lie back down and pretend he had never gotten up.
He was covered from head to toe in blood, courtesy of his swim in the blood lake, and his hair was a mess. His face was tinged red with even darker spots underneath the coat of grime, blood, and dried sweat, where several of the cuts and scratches he had sustained had dried up and begun to scab over. He could see dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep and when he stripped off his over-shirt he found bruises running up and down the length of his arms and shoulders. He sighed deeply. He felt like he had been run over by a truck and his entire body protested against any kind of movement at all.
It took a moment for his head to clear and he wondered how long he had been out. Across the floor from where he had landed was Sam, looking no better off than he was. His brother was cut and bruised as well and the bottom half of his pants looked like he had decided to tie dye them in blood. Sam was sprawled on his back still unconscious and Dean went to his little brother, shaking his shoulder roughly to rouse him.
"Sam!" he called.
Sam groaned in protest to his brother and slowly opened one eye. "I'm gonna kill you."
Dean laughed. "Wake up sunshine."
Sam sat up slowly, with Dean's help and looked around. The same relief that Dean had felt washed over his face as he recognized the familiar surroundings. "Thank God," he said. "How long have we been out?"
"I have no idea, dude," Dean replied.
"Where are the girls?"
Dean looked around, spotting a strand of blonde hair on the side of the bed across the room. He climbed to his feet and jogged over to the spot, finding Kya face down against the carpet. Her pale skin was tinged with bruises where he could see them and her clothes were shredded from one too many battles. Blood stains covered the length of her garments, both from wading through the blood lake and from having him in her arms after he had come back to life from it, where the blood from his clothing had soaked through hers. He knelt down next to her and gently took her shoulders, rolling her over with care and gathering the beat up girl into his arms. Sam came over and looked down at the damage.
"How come you're nice to her?" he grumbled, indicating how gentle Dean had been.
"Cuz she's cuter than you," Dean shot back.
Sam nodded. "I don't see Heather anywhere."
"Maybe she's in her room," Dean said.
"What?"
"Well, we were brought back to where we were taken. Maybe she was too."
Sam shook his head. "That's too big a maybe."
Dean shrugged. "Well, she was with Kya when we got out so if she isn't here, she has to be wherever the book first took her from in the first place. It's the only explanation I have."
Sam turned to find the book laying face down on the carpet with its pages fanned out against the floor. He picked it up slowly and snapped it shut before turning it over in his hands. Even though he knew the house had been destroyed and the curse was most likely lifted he had trouble opening it again. He watched Dean lift Kya into his arms and set her on the bed before his brother joined him.
Dean shook his head when Sam offered him the book. "I am never reading again," he commented.
Sam looked at him. "You read?"
"Shut up, Sammy."
Both boys turned at the sound of a collar and found Buck had climbed onto the bed next to Kya and was now curled up in a massive ball beside the girl, his head resting on her stomach. He whined pitifully and gave them plaintive eyes, as if to say "why'd you let this happen?". Dean sighed and turned back to Sam.
"First thing," he said, tapping the cover of the book, "Bonfire."
Sam shook his head. "I don't know, Dean. I think the book is safe now."
Dean crossed his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow. "Oh really? Well then open it."
Sam shrugged and took a deep breath before jerking the cover open and reading the first line. He waited but nothing happened. He stood with the book in his hand and read the first paragraph, and still nothing happened. He looked back up at Dean triumphantly.
"Told you so," he said.
"Sam, that is so first grade," Dean tossed back, heading for the shower.
Sam gave his brother a dirty look before sitting on the edge of the bed and reading more of the book that had nearly claimed all of their lives. He heard the shower running and shook his head. When they had all gotten cleaned up and rested a bit he knew they had more work to do. There was still another ghost to deal with, and somehow they had to bring Hunter Banks to justice for his actions. How they were going to accomplish that was beyond his exhausted mind at the moment. He looked back at the bathroom door and sighed again, throwing himself to a laying position on the bed and continued reading.
Kya groaned and rolled over to find a soft and furry mass against her side. She almost freaked out until she realized it was Buck, her newly adopted and fiercely loyal dog. She realized that the she was back in the motel room as she rolled over stiffly to wrap her arms around the great black dog. Buck nuzzled her neck, as if aware that she was injured and not wanting to disturb those injuries. She looked up as Sam spoke to her, not registering his words at first.
"How are you feeling?" he asked again.
"I've had better days," she groaned.
She laid her head on the dog's back, wanting nothing more than to crash again and not wake up for the next week. She finally raised her head as Dean stepped from the bathroom, wearing clean jeans and the white towel wrapped across his shoulders. She looked around the room.
"Where's Heather?"
"Dean has this theory that she's in her bedroom getting ready for a date," Sam grumbled.
"I never said date," Dean replied. "I said it was likely that she was put back where she was taken from."
Kya nodded slowly. "It makes sense. And you better pray that you saved some hot water."
Dean motioned for the bathroom. "By all means go and find out."
Kya got up from the bed and the dog padded faithfully behind her, as though Buck feared if she left his sight again she would disappear. She grabbed up her duffel bag and let the dog into the bathroom with her before shutting the door.
"Lucky dog," Dean muttered.
Sam laughed. "So after we use up all the hot water in the motel, what are we doing?"
"Sleeping for the next three days straight?" Dean wondered.
"I don't think that's sleeping, Dean. I think being out for three days is more like a coma. So you want to take a coma?"
"Sounds good right about now. But then again, so does food."
Sam looked up from the book. "Then go get some. And try not to eat it all on the way back."
Dean pulled a navy blue shirt on over his head and slipped on another pair of worn out hunting boots. He smiled at his brother as he snatched the keys to the Impala off the dresser.
"I promise to save you a French fry."
"Two," Sam said, without looking up.
"One and a half," Dean countered, heading for the door.
"Done," Sam commented.
Dean laughed and shut the door behind him.
