Chapter One
"You know what demons don't understand?" The female voice asked lazily.
"The basic laws of civilization?" The second voice, a male this time, answered sarcastically, " How to interact with humans? How to fake ignorance? How to keep fighting? To up killing scores by making necessary sacrifices? Algebra? How to cook? Sex?"
The girl rubbed the charm dangling from her neck between two fingers, looking thoughtful, smirking only slightly at her partner's irritated response. "Actually… yes." She made her voice purposely surprised.
"Which one?" The man snapped, stepping towards her threateningly, her smirk was in place, which was okay, as she was sitting with her back towards him.
"Oh, ya know…" she drew the words out calmly, one hand never leaving the charm that rested at the hollow of her throat. In one fluid motion she had her body flung halfway around, her arm held steady.
The dagger she was wielding, now deeply imbedded just below the man's ribcage, overshadowed the man's own knife, which fell harmlessly to the floor after a brief moment of timelessness. His face held a permanent look of disbelief as he crumbled to the ground next to it.
"That bit about sacrifices." She finished her previous thought, smiling – one might say sadly – as she studied the body on the floor.
She continued to rub the charm.
Dean and Sam: Childhood
Sam: Sometimes I think dad hates me.
Dean: Sometimes he thinks you hate him.
Sam: …
Dean: Sammy?
Sam: Sometimes I do.
Present Day:
It was noon before Dean woke up that first day; the first day Sam had the vision. The younger brother had been on the laptop for hours before the sun had even risen, not sure what he was looking for, but glad for the first time in weeks to have something to do.
"Hey," Sam's voice was raspier than he'd predicted it would be when he greeted his brother's now awake form, it made him sound cautious, almost scared of the older man; as if Dean were a wild animal that needed to be handled with caution. "How'd you sleep?"
If Dean noticed the hesitancy in Sam's voice, he didn't comment on it; just sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes. "The pills knock me out pretty good." Which the younger man already knew, having been witness to it for the past two and a half weeks, but needed to hear each morning regardless. Not for the actual knowledge, but just to hear Dean's voice.
"What about you?" Dean countered after several long moments.
Sam, having already turned back to the computer, wasn't expecting the question at all - he was thrown. "Huh?" He faced his brother again.
"How'd you sleep?" Dean asked clearly, omitting the usual sarcasm, and inserting instead a seriousness that, up until the accident, Sam hadn't thought he was capable of possessing.
Not wanting to lie, the taller brother simply shrugged.
"Yeah," Dean sighed sadly, and looked as if he was going to say something more – then changed his mind. "Yeah," he repeated and hung his head low, running his hands through his hair almost painstakingly, before getting up and making his way slowly into the hotel bathroom, shutting the door firmly behind him.
Sam took a deep breath as soon as he heard the shower start up, copying his brother's earlier movements, he felt the scar on the side of his head, not yet faded as he'd just had the stitches removed a few days ago. Most of the injury was hidden under his mess of shaggy hair, making it easy for him to ignore for the most part.
Sam knew they wouldn't be able to stay here much longer – the moderately priced hotel room they'd been camping out in since Dean was released from the hospital. The room was nice, comfortable, clean; and the longer they stayed there, the more danger they were in.
Yet Sam had bigger things on his mind, and the dwindling money value of their fake credit card was pushed from his thoughts almost as soon as he turned back to the computer screen. It was an occult site, with informational pages ranging from poltergeists to human demon hosts, and everything in-between. Sam had found what he'd been looking for as soon as he clicked on Common Occult Tools.
He'd read all the information on the page by the time Dean finally emerged from the bathroom; far from looking refreshed, Dean looked worse than he had in days.
"I feel like crap," The elder man mumbled, sitting tiredly on the edge of Sam's bed – Sam told himself it was simply because his happened to be located closer to the bathroom door, not because Dean had forgotten which one had been his.
"Took the words right outta my mouth," Sam admitted, exiting the web page inconspicuously and turning his attention entirely to his big brother. "You alright?"
"I'm not sure, Sammy." The words scared Sam, because Dean never admitted defeat, especially not to him. Although it had been a life changing couple of weeks.
It wasn't every day that a demon succeeded in tearing them apart.
In fact, this was only the third time this had happened to them.
Three times in one lifetime.
"Maybe you should go back to sleep," Sam suggested protectively, following his thoughts to their logical conclusion.
"I slept all night," Dean protested half-heartedly, already tipping slightly towards the pillow.
"Drug induced sleep," Sam reminded, wondering absently how many painkillers his brother had left anyway, "Sleep for real, you'll feel better."
Dean nodded, head hitting the pillow moments later, "You get some sleep too," his words were slurred and his eyes already shut.
"Okay," Sam agreed anyway, knowing his brother wanted to hear it; even if it was a lie. "Goodnight."
"'Night, little brother."
"I'll protect you, Sammy." Big brother never lied.
Sam felt like crying.
I sought my soul, but my soul I could not see.
TBC...
