Thank you guys for all of your lovely reviews I hope you like chapter 7. I know it's a shorty but I really I enjoyed writing this chapter. Once you start reading you'll understand why lol. I'll say no more, I'll leave it to your imaginations.
Chapter 7: - Oops.
Dean flopped down on the bed as Sam closed the door behind them, carrying a bag of fast food. Throwing the keys aside onto the dresser, he shrugged off his jacket and placed the bag on the chair.
"Here," he said, chucking a cellophane wrapped burger at Dean's head.
"Oi," Dean smiled, grabbing the burger and sitting up. "Watch it." He ravenously tore off the packaging, devouring the burger in three bites.
"Urgh man, you're such a pig," Sam groaned.
Dean smirked; finishing his mouthful he grabbed the bag and took out a packet of fries. "Survival of the fittest Sammy, eat or weep."
"Hey, give that back," Sam responded, trying to grab the bag Dean had stolen. "My food's in there too."
"Well hurry up and eat or I'll eat it for you." Dean started to eat his fries greedily, before reaching for one of the drinks Sam had placed on the dresser and took a gulp. "Ahh," he groaned contently with a grin. "Needed that." He stood up and ruffled through his pack, taking out a towel and shower gel.
Heading for the bathroom, Sam yelled, "You better not use all the hot water!" Dean gave him a devilish grin before closing the door.
Alex pushed the curtains aside as she stuck her leg through the window, bending her head as she climbed in. She extended her leg, reaching for the floor, but instead came into contact with the sink. "Oh great," she muttered under her breath. Deciding she could only have gone one too far over she continued to climb in. As she sat on the ledge, drawing her other leg in, the shower was turned on.
Jumping at the sudden sound of rushing water and movement from behind the shower curtain, her feet slipped on the wet bathroom sink. "SHIT!" she cried, as her feet flew out from under her and she fell sideways, her arms flailing out and grabbing the shower curtain, ripping it down on top of her.
Lying in shock on the hard tiled floor, she fought against the sopping wet sheet in panic until she finally struggled free. Looking up, she found a naked Dean staring down at her in horror, his hands held in front of him in an attempt at modesty.
"Oh crap," she muttered in dismay, her face etched with embarrassment. Covering her eyes with her hands, her cheeks blushing crimson, she felt around on the floor and on the wall hangers for a towel. "Here," she cringed, holding one out for him, flustered.
"Ehh thanks," he said, his voice high pitched, the air crackling with an awkward and mortified silence.
From behind her, the bathroom door was kicked open. Sam, armed with a shot gun, burst into the room saying, "Are you okay? I heard a-" before standing stock still, his jaw open as he looked at the scene.
Looking from Alex's mortified face to Dean's flushed cheeks, he lowered the gun, his body shaking with silent laughter.
"Don't even think about it," Dean muttered, hurriedly tying the towel Alex had given him around his waist.
"What?" said Sam, choked up with laughter, his eyes twinkling with hysteria. He grabbed his stomach, doubling over as he lost control making Dean's flush even deeper. Fighting for breath, he gasped, "Your faces … I wish … I had … a camera."
Dean threw a bottle of shower gel at him, his face going as red as Alex's. Alex struggled to her feet, scuttling past Sam and out of the bathroom, leaving him staring at Dean, biting down on his bottom lip in amusement.
Alex stumbled across the room and took a seat on the chair which sat in the far corner, drawing her knees to her chest. She stared at the beige wallpaper intently as Sam left the bathroom and walked towards her, taking a seat on the bed opposite.
"So …" he said, after a tense and awkward pause. "Was there a reason for you dropping in so unexpectedly and embarrassing my brother?" He watched as Alex flushed all the way to her roots. He tried to hide the smile that itched to light up his face, a twinkle burning in his eye, as Dean walked into the room wearing a pair of jeans and rubbing a towel through his hair.
"Well actually there was," she smiled sheepishly. "I need your help."
Sam's smile fell from his face, a serious expression replacing his playful mood. "What's happened?"
"Sheriff Peters … and pretty much the whole town turned up at my house. The deputy sheriff and his wife … the woman that accused me of witchcraft outside Bob's … they're dead. They think it's me … that I did it. They're after me."
"Shit," Dean muttered under his breath, as he yanked on a t-shirt and began throwing his stuff into his pack, Sam following suit "We gotta get outta here." Bending down, he scooped up the remaining dirty clothes he'd kicked under his bed, throwing them into the bag and picking up the laptop. "Here," he shouted, throwing the bag to Sam and passing him the laptop as his brother walked towards the door, grabbing the keys as he went.
Dean made for the bathroom to check for any mislaid belongings whilst Alex stared in wonder at the speed in which the pair packed up their lives.
Sam returned, throwing the keys aside as he checked the draws and floor. "Got everything?" Dean said, as he came out of the bathroom and walked towards the door.
"Yeah, think so."
"Dad's journal?" Dean continued, turning back as he opened the door.
"Got it," said Sam, picking up the journal and walking towards the open door. "Ahh hell," he muttered looking out of the doorway.
Dean followed his gaze. Walking towards them were half the population of the town. "I don't think so," he said slamming the door shut and walking towards the window at the other side of the room, Alex following. "Oh great, the other half," he muttered sarcastically, as he looked out to find the other half of the town's population walking towards the back of the motel, surrounding them.
"This can't be happening," Alex whispered.
Dean looked at her then Sam, a serious expression furrowing his brow. He turned back to close the curtains, his eyes widening in alarm as he shouted, "Aww crap, hit the deck!" Sam threw himself on the ground between the two beds as Dean pushed Alex to the floor, hurling himself down beside her as a hail of bullets rained down on them.
"Jesus Christ," Alex screamed, covering her head as the wood of the motel splintered. Dean reached over, trying to shield her as the window above them exploded, shattered glass thundering down on them, as the rest of the room was blown to smithereens.
"They better not touch my car," Dean shouted angrily over the roar of gunfire, thinking of the bullet holes that would destroy his baby. As suddenly as the rapid gun fire had started, it stopped, a suffocating silence replacing the deafening roar. Dean could hear the faint clicking and smooth sliding of the guns being reloaded. Knowing they only had seconds before the next wave of gunfire hit, he looked up from where he lay on the ground and shouted in a hushed voice, "You okay little brother?"
"Yeah," Sam groaned, shaking the shattered glass and other debris off him.
Dean looked up at the ceiling, hunting for a way out. "SAM."
Sam seeing what his brother saw, said, "I'm on it." As fast as he could, he dragged a chair into the centre of the room directly beneath the sun roof. He jumped up on to the seat and pushed it open.
"Move it Sammy!"
Sam pulled himself up through the window. "Come on, let's go," he whispered, extending his arms down to Alex. "You're up next."
Alex held up her arms grabbing Sam's as he pulled her through.
"The book," Dean exclaimed, as he looked round for his father's journal, picking it up off the floor.
"Move it Dean," Sam muttered. Dean climbed up onto the chair, stashing the journal into his jacket as he let his brother drag him through the sun roof just as the door beneath them was smashed open.
"Here," Dean whispered, throwing the journal to Sam. Listening intently to the voices below, he mouthed, "Go!"
Sam crawled across the roof leading the way.
"You're next," Dean whispered, looking at Alex. They began to follow as slowly and as quietly as possible, keeping low and out of sight.
As they followed, the roof creaked ominously beneath Dean, who cursed silently, stopping momentarily. From beneath them, all movement stopped and an eerie silence filled the air.
Dean breathed deeply, his senses heightened by the unnatural silence. "MOVE!" he ordered, as a hail of bullets shot through the roof, the roof creaking and groaning, buckling under his weight.
"DEAN!" Sam shouted, scrambling back towards his brother.
"OH SHIT," Dean yelled, as the roof gave way beneath him and he fell through it and into the devastated room below. Crashing to the floor in a mountain of rubble and coughing heavily on the dust, he was dragged to his feet roughly. "Get off me," he shouted, as he struggled against his captors, watching others point their guns at the ceiling again and open fire.
Alex let out a bloodcurdling scream as she rolled across the roof trying to dodge the hail of bullets. Curling up in a ball against the edge of the crumbling rooftop, it began to groan and give way beneath her. Her weight forced the roof to collapse and she fell through it to the floor in a crumpled heap, a cloud of dirt fogging up the room.
Sheriff Peters stalked towards her as she came to her senses and backed away from him fruitlessly into a corner. "Pin her down," he snapped. Two large burly men walked forwards, one grabbing her arms, the other her legs.
"Get … off … of me," she screamed, wriggling and struggling against the two men as the sheriff walked towards her.
"Leave her alone," Dean shouted angrily.
Bending down, Peters pulled out a handkerchief, dousing it in a liquid Dean couldn't quite make out. Alex looked at him wide-eyed in terror, struggling violently. "Here we go," he muttered, placing the wet cloth over her nose and mouth. Writhing around under his grasp she desperately tried to hold her breath.
"Get off her," Dean yelled, stamping on one of his captors feet, trying to break free.
Alex, unable to hold her breath any longer, took a deep ragged gasp feeling almost instantaneously light-headed and drowsy. Struggling hard, she breathed in again, her body slowly going numb and her eyes growing heavy. In several more breaths she couldn't feel anything, her eyes closing one last time. She slumped unmoving on the ground.
"What have you done to her?" Dean snarled through gritted teeth, hating the fact he'd had a front row seat, having had to watch powerlessly as Peters drugged Alex, unable to prevent or stop it.
"Where's you're brother?" the sheriff glared at him coldly, ignoring his question.
"What?" said Dean, temporarily confused. "He's … he's not here. He went out for food," he muttered distractedly.
"Is he up there?" the sheriff continued, pointing up at the roof. Sam, hearing this, scrambled behind a chimney as one of the townsfolk poked his head through the hole.
Dean, without realising it, held his breath watching as the guy stepped down off the chair before shaking his head muttering, "Nothing."
"Right, now will someone please shut him up!" One of the men, who had held Alex down, stood up and walked over to Dean clobbering him with the butt of a rifle, knocking him unconscious. "And find his brother!"