Chapter One
Dean had known that he had a lot to do today, but he hadn't thought that he would have to do so much when he was so sore. He was hoping that it was only the bed he had slept on last night and nothing more. They couldn't afford to go to the doctor to get him fixed up.
Sam looked at him sideways, frowning as he took the sight of him in.
"You okay man?" He asked as he took another sip from his coffee. He looked his brother over, wondering when he had gotten so drained and worn out.
"I'm fine, just didn't get a lot of sleep last night." He replied as he looked out the front window. After his shower he had returned to his bed and fell into a fitful sleep. Having tossed and turned until early that morning, all he wanted was to gather everything up and leave as soon as possible. He was just hoping that it was the mishap last night with the rats that made him have that dream.
"So do you think that will take care of whatever that thing was last night?" Dean asked, knowing that he wanted to move on but unable to unless he was sure that it wouldn't be coming back.
"You mean burning down the house?"
"No, I meant spitting on it. Of course I meant the house." He moaned in pain as he moved in his chair. Sam frowned at him.
"What's up with you?" Sam asked once again.
"Sorry, I'm just-" He stopped talking as he closed his eyes to concentrate on what he was really feeling. "I didn't get much sleep last night and I'm just on edge." He informed his brother as he reopened his eyes. He didn't want him thinking that there was something wrong, when nothing was out of order.
"Are you sure that's everything because I haven't seen you this on edge, since-"
"Don't," Dean warned him as he cut him off. "We don't talk about that, remember? It's a rule." He motioned for him to gather everything up. "We are leaving, get your stuff and let's go." He turned on one heel and walked through the bathroom door.
Slamming the door behind him he bent over the bathroom sink and took a deep breath. He knew that Sam would be able to nail what was going on in his head. Sometimes he wished that they weren't as close as they were. Dean liked having things for himself and when Sam had gone to college, for the first time in his life he had secrets. His father had never been able to really tell what was going on inside his head. Sam was the one that could do that. He took a deeper breath and got ready to go back outside, facing his brother and their past.
Sam knew something was up the moment his brother had awakened him. He was rushed and all over the place. He knew that something had happened but he wasn't sure what it was. He knew that he would have to find out but there was always a chance that his brother would bitch slap him and tell him to mind his own business. A lot like what it had been like when they were younger.
Sighing in resignation he walked to his bed and began to repack. Tossing his clothes into his bag he emptied out the rest. He sat down on the chair beside the door and waited for his brother to come back in so that they could talk.
Sam wanted to know what was bothering Dean before they went on the next job. The worst thing possible would be that his brother was distracted while on a job. That was something that they couldn't afford. Biting his lip in silent indecision, he looked around the room. Dean's clothes were all packed and sitting in their bags beside the door ready to leave at first light. Sam's frown deepened as he walked back to the bathroom door knocking gently.
"Dean, are you ready to go? I'm packed." He hissed into the closed door, regretting how easily he gave into his brother and what he wanted.
"I'm packed just give me another minute."
"Okay, I'll be in the car." Sam informed the empty room as he turned back towards his bed and picked his suitcase up. As he walked out the door he looked around again, grimacing at the bad emotions still floating in the room. There was more to his brother's mood then he was letting on.
The moment Dean stepped into the room he felt his dream hit him again. The memory of the rats biting and gnawing at him came back to him as if he was in the same room once again surrounded by the overpowering smells and feelings. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as he looked around. He knew that he was never going to be over that moment in his life. Four years later he had still refused to go into older buildings. It was only at the age of eighteen when his father was in trouble that he confronted his past problem.
Looking around the deserted room Dean took a calming breath and plastered a smile on his face. He would act as if nothing had changed because it hadn't. As far as Sam knew he was the same man he had been yesterday. He didn't know that Dean had had to fight to stay in that house yesterday. He paused with that train of thought. Dean would make sure that he never knew. And that was it.
"How long do you think it will take?" asked a cold void of a voice from the far corner of the room.
"Each person is a little different. When confronted with their fears people react in different ways. This man seems to have been dealing with his for years now. It might take a while to break him down," replied the female in the middle of the room. Her voice shook with an edge of fear. She knew that this wasn't what her master wanted to hear.
"How long?" it demanded looking over to her, their eyes meeting.
"A week at the most," she whispered her reply.
"Good. By then the youngest will begin to worry. Then the Winchesters will be ours, finally."
