Don't Feed After Midnight
Chapter 11
Dean was set on giving Sam a well deserved piece of his mind over the counterfeit meat, when he saw it.
The bunker had a series of doors that they had been unable to find keys for, jimmy or pick the locks of.
Those doors made him edgy; locked doors with who knew what crap hidden behind, that wasn't something any hunter worth his salt found comforting.
He and Sam had put a lot of effort into trying to get those doors open early on, justifiably worried by the unknown zones inside their new batcave. Wary of whatever was behind them coming out to bite them in the ass, at any moment.
But what with Abbadon, the trials, Crowley. Then Sam's near death experience; the question of what was hidden behind door number 2 had gotten pushed into the background.
The men of letters were dead, the bunker appeared to have been undisturbed for over 50 years before they came, if there was some freaky shit behind one of those doors, at least it appeared to be contained. Maybe they'd stumble on keys one of these days and get to check those zones out.
But, it became less of a priority as days turned into weeks, without trouble bursting out of them.
The locked doors had transformed gradually in Dean's mind, from unknown threats, into landmarks. Like the pictures of dead people on the walls or the swords that sat on the shelving in the library.
Until now, that was.
Now, one of those doors was unlocked and sitting slightly ajar.
Dean drew his gun hastily.
Edging the door open he peered through.
Beyond was an unbranched hallway, empty and indistinguishable from any of the others. Thirty feet further on was a second door.
One which resembled the entry door to the bunker. Bound in iron and rimmed heavily with wardings. It appeared to be a twin of that other, exterior door.
But the thing that really sent chills racing down Dean's spine as he advanced along the corridor; foot falls deliberate and silent, gun raised. Was that the door at the end of the hallway was also cracked open, inky shadows lurking just beyond.
…ooo0ooo…
Kevin ran into Sam in the hallway, quite literally.
He was coming round a corner, incensed over the sabotage of his iPod, when he bounced off the younger Winchester's chest.
It felt like being hit by a Mac truck.
Collecting himself Kevin looked up and cringed.
The muscles in the man's jaw were bunched in fury, as were his fists. The eyes that glared out from behind his bangs and made him look wild.
It was shocking, startling. Usually, Kevin forgot how physically imposing the younger Winchester was.
Sam Winchester had a way of fading into the background, of seeming way smaller than his brother, despite being the taller of the two Winchesters. Somehow you forgot the man was 6' 4" and composed of solid muscle, and that he was just as strong and physically capable as his brother.
Huffing out a breath through flared nostrils, Sam sounded like a bull ready to charge. Then, he blinked, looking down at Kevin, and seemed to wilt, or shrink.
"Hey, Kevin… s-sorry." He stammered.
Kevin gulped, dry mouthed with shock, he'd only ever found Sam Winchester intimidating once before.
On that first day, when he'd stolen his Mom's car and driven halfway across the country, been forced to steal an unassuming rucksack (which contained the word of God, the Leviathan tablet.)
Driven by awful compulsion; sparked as he came to learn, by his activation as a prophet of god.
He'd understood none of this when Sam Winchester charged after him and tried to run him down.
He hadn't been the most athletic kid, but he had been fuelled by terror, and his panicked, advanced-placement brain had informed him that bobbing and weaving would be his best bet against the unhinged giant.
He'd managed to stay just ahead of the owner of the rucksack.
Until, a female nurse appeared out of nowhere and clotheslined him. He'd slammed to the ground and lay there hugging the rucksack to his chest, sobbing, expecting the scary man to murder him, helped by the black eyed, nightmare nurse, who demanded to know what he was.
Sam had loomed over him, like a monster, glaring and breathing hard with exertion, just like now.
"Sorry Sam, I wasn't looking where I was going." Kevin breathed nervously, still cowered before the Hunter on reflex.
Sam's mouth pulled sideways. "Makes two of us," he said. Then Sam's eyes lit up suddenly, "Did - did you…?" he began hopefully.
Kevin realised Sam thought he'd made some kind of headway with the tablet. "Ah, no, I was just… looking for Dean." He muttered.
"You and me both," Sam's jaw clenched, another flash of anger brought forth the scowling giant once more, then his eyes flitted over Kevin's face. "What did he do?" He asked in a clipped voice.
Kevin held out his iPod for Sam's inspection.
Sam frowned.
"My music… he, he swapped it…? With his stuff…" Kevin pulled a face of distaste, remembering the 80's metal music.
Sam's eyebrows rose, disappearing into his hairline. And then the man snorted.
"I didn't know Dean could work something— so advanced…
Sorry Kevin… I thought he was just aiming this shit at me.
Dean, I guess you could say he's acting out, it's dumb, but it's kinda what he does. He's trying to start a prank war, usually he doesn't involve other people, but I guess he likes you."
"Likes me?" Kevin asked incredulously.
Sam huffed a laugh. "Yeah, he has a stupid way of showing it, but that's Dean. He's a jackass."
They advanced side by side towards Dean's room in silence.
"Sam?"
"Yeah?"
"What did he do to you?"
Sams lips pursed, "he ate my yogurt, gave me an ice shower. Caused that flood the other day, filled my laptop with porn, then blew it up about 15 minutes ago."
Kevin's step faltered, yeah, destroying Sam's laptop. That was a low blow.
"Dunno how he got it to throw sparks and smoke like that." Sam mused.
"Doesn't matter much, it was old." He brushed it off with effort. "Jerk knows I'll raid his emergency cash reserve an' get another. All this crap, it's aimed at riling us up. Sparking retaliation, it's a game."
Kevin nodded, remembering what he'd read in Edlund's books.
"I've been ignoring it," Sam continued, "maybe that's why he's aiming it at you now. Sorry." He ran a harried hand through his hair.
"He hates being ignored, drives him insane.
When he relaxes an' thinks I've let it ride. When he least expects it—" Sam chuckled to himself… "let's just say, I'm not going to let it go with super-gluing his hand to his beer this time."
"You really did that?" Kevin asked, thinking of the books again, and struggled not to think of other things he'd read in the electronic books. Looked away nervously.
Sam smiled at him with a nod, "I did. It was priceless. A real MasterCard moment."
…ooo0ooo…
Beyond the warded door the lights were off, shadows stretched forward, illuminated only by the hallway behind. Dean stepped forward finding a small alcove which led to what, on closer inspection proved to be an antique freight elevator. Having cleared the small shadowed space of threats, Dean edged the door behind him closed, and flicked on the overhead light.
The disused bulb flickered and sizzled, surging for a bit like there was a demon or ghost present, before settling down to a steady glow.
The control panel in front of him looked simple enough, just two levels labelled.
In keeping with the rest of the bunker, the elevator was controlled by an antiquated switch and lever system, instead of backlit buttons.
Stepping closer, Dean studied the elevator doors and ran an appreciative palm over the metal feeling the inscribed wardings. They felt almost warm sliding under his fingertips.
The symbols themselves were intriguing, a complex blend of protective sigils spanning Sumerian, Enochian, Egyptian and elements from several other, more obscure cultures Dean couldn't place. The net of wardings covered the doors, intricate and almost beautiful.
The lift, Dean supposed would explain how the Men of Letters had got some of the larger items of equipment into the bunker.
Facing the door Dean hesitated and considered back tracking, finding his brother to get backup, before going further down the rabbit hole.
But rejected the thought summarily, still annoyed over his brother's betrayal with the fake meat.
After another moment's hesitation, Dean flicked the switch and turned the lever. Waited, listening to the clunk and whir of machinery from inside the shaft. Watched the doors slide open, gun raised.
The open doors revealed an empty shadowed interior.
Broken glass from a shattered lightbulb crunched underfoot as he stepped inside, pulling a maglite from his jacket pocket.
He shone the torch around briefly, examining the interior, and released a pent up breath.
Jerked the control lever to the other level.
As the doors slid shut, Dean thought he caught a flicker of movement behind him in the corridor. But whatever it was, it was small and low to the ground, he shrugged it off as the doors slid shut and the cab lurched upwards.
…ooo0ooo…
'Inconsiderate Jerk!' Sam fumed as he stomped back down the stairs.
"The cars gone." He informed Kevin with a huff, 'damn it Dean! Would it kill you to tell someone you're going somewhere, or leave a note?'
Apparently it would.
He and Kevin had wasted nearly an hour searching for Dean, before it occurred to him to check and see if the impala was parked outside.
It wasn't.
"He's probably gone to that bar in Smith Centre, he's got a thing for one of the waitresses," he said.
Kevin shook his head, iPod still clutched in his hand, face announcing without words his own irritation at Dean and the situation.
Sam shot the boy a conciliatory smile and held out his hand.
"Give it here, make me a list, I'll re-upload them for you."
"Didn't he just kill your laptop?"
"Yeah, but we have an iPad, somewhere. Dean's not a fan of things without buttons—"
Suddenly, the lights went out.
An alarm started bleating in the depths of the bunker, then, a heartbeat later the red emergency lighting came on.
The light stained Kevin's face with phantom blood as he stared up at Sam, his slanted eyes wide and panicked in the semi dark.
-/-/-/-/-
Authors note: Yes I'm alive, despite the giant break between chapters. teaching two special needs kids in lockdown, and supporting 3 essential workers has been... a mission, as you can imagine.
But my fair country has been luckier than most. Thanks to a quick and harsh lockdown we are looking at 2 weeks without a new case and the kids are finally back at school.
I Hope the rest of you out there are staying safe in this scary time, where we get new chaces daily to mark off another square on our appacalypse bingo cards. If your checking them off too, Earthquakes, rumours of civil war and Locusts all have a big tick.