Sacrifice – chpt 2 – s.n. fic
by: sifi.
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"Dean!" Sam called and burst into the hallway, his voice reverberating in the far too large space that was the house Martin and his family lived in.
"We're fine Sam…" Dean called, his voice rolling faintly down the enormous central staircase.
Sam shook his head and pulled out his cell, wondering at the absurdity of using the device while they were both INSIDE the house.
"We'll be back down in a minute… it tried to ambush us…" Dean explained from his end.
"Did you get a look at it?" he asked.
"Nah, not really… it was just kind of a big grayish mist…"
"Alright… be careful…"
"Yep," Dean severed the connection and pocketed his phone as Martin opened the door to his bedroom.
Dean stood and stared, the child's room was actually a suite of rooms that were quite possibly larger than full Wings of most of the motels he and Sam had ever stayed at. He looked around and shook his head.
"Come on…" Martin grabbed his hand and led him through the 'sitting room' deeper inside.
They stopped in the actual bed room where Dean could see the boy spent his time. The room was supposed to be for sleeping while the anteroom was supposed to be more for day to day activities and quote unquote 'living' purposes but Martin seemed to prefer a central location. His room was easily three times the size of a standard motel room, the bed was a huge four poster jobber with spread and dressings that were far too sophisticated for a boy of nine to really like. There was a large desk against the far wall, the kind of desk usually reserved for people like Daniel Blake who'd made it to their station through wily if not hard work, again, not for a child of nine. The desktop items were all neatly arranged and precisely ordered including the laptop which sat closed, its power light blinking patiently in the gloom.
Frell me man… it's gotta be like living in a damned museum! what kind of person does this to a kid? It's just sick! Dean thought as Martin dove under the desk and started rooting around. His eyes fell onto the bed, It sure does look comfortable though…hard or soft mattress? Pillow top or featherbed? Hmmm… he wondered and with a smile took a running leap, flipping in mid air onto his back and landing with a soft 'whumpf' atop the properly made piece of furniture.
"Ahhh…" pillow top… nice… he grinned and stretched out with his hands behind his head while keeping his eyes open for anything amiss as the boy backed out from under the desk and drew up the power cord. He glanced around, his eyes taking in Dean's casual sprawl and easy enjoyment of the bed and he smiled inscrutably before turning back to his desk and rooting around in one of the drawers.
He's observant… Dean noticed peering snidely out from under his lashes, wondering just what this kid was thinking. They'd met so many people through the years, so many kids too from different walks of life that Dean was often quite amazed at just how un-different children really were when it all came down to it. Leave it to the adults to screw 'em up… he smirked watching as Martin pulled out a camera and the cable to attach it to the laptop.
"This?" Martin thumped the mattress though Dean never felt it budge, "…this is my best possession… when I'm sleeping I can do or be anything or anybody…" he smiled as Dean sat up and eyed him openly.
"Dude… you can do or be anything or anybody you want, any time you want…" he nodded before tucking his pistol into the waistband of his jeans so he could retrieve the shotgun from the desk while Martin pocketed the camera and held the laptop and its cords tight to his chest.
Dean guided him out of the room with a warm hand on his shoulder and they made their way back to the staircase.
"What about station?" Martin asked halfway down the hall.
"What? Gas station? Radio station? T.V. Station? What station?" Dean asked knowing full well what the boy was referring to. God I hate when adults do that to kids! he sneered angrily to himself.
The boy smiled and looked up at Dean wondering if he was just messing with him or not, one look at his face told him all he needed to know, "I mean socioeconomic station…you know that…"
Dean stopped and turned the boy to face him, "See that? That phrase right there? that's not something a kid your age should be concerned with…seriously… let your folks worry about that kind of crap… the only socioeconomic anything you should be concerned about is whether or not you've got enough cash in your pocket for when the ice cream man comes around…"
The boy nodded, his eyes still examining Dean's, Poor kid's probably been B.S'd his whole life… probably doesn't know what or who to believe… damned shame… betcha he believes more of what Emma tells him than his own folks…he thought spocking his eyebrow at the boy.
"You're a lot smarter than you like people to think aren't you?" the kid finally asked.
"Damned skippy…" he nodded and leaned down, "…and damned handsome to boot…"
Martin chuckled, the sound making Dean smile openly as he turned him back toward the stairs, "Man you can be brilliant and people will still underestimate you, it can be a good thing though… sometimes…" Dean muttered.
"Yeah… that's why I keep a B average instead of an A…" Martin said in such a serious voice Dean almost missed the joke.
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"Dean!...Sam! Sam! Help!" Martin's voice cracked hard as the sound of his fear snagged through the youngest Winchester.
He set the bell down and lurched from the table, his knee catching on the lower lip as he charged for the door, deep pulsing pain thudded just above his kneecap and behind him, as he careened limping into the hallway a faint brassy tinkling hit his ears.
"Sam!" Martin gasped from Dean's side.
"Dean!" Sam called skidding to a halt and crouching at his brothers' side pressing his fingers to his twisted neck and very unhappy with the stripe of blood that was still dripping down the side of his mouth and onto the floor.
Fear sent shockwaves through him as he pressed harder, unable to find a pulse.
Oh God it's broken… his neck is freakin' broken…No! Please God NO! "God… Dean! Come on Dean…." Don't you die on me you son of a bitch! Don't you dare die! he pleaded looking at Martin, "What happened?... Come on Dean please…" and then he felt it, a faint trembling thumping behind his brothers' larynx. The sound of air passing into and out of his body, no matter how jagged it was, brought tears to his eyes and made his hands tremble until he had to clench them into fists around Dean's jacket.
"We were coming down the stairs and he heard something behind us…it pushed him…" Martin stammered with tears in his eyes.
Sam frowned and pressed his hand to his brothers' face as Dean's breathing deepened and his eyes came slowly open, rolling uncertainly and obviously unable to focus.
He was dead… oh God he was dead… he really was…again! Damnit Dean! You're not supposed to die! EVER! Do you hear me! Sam's voice yelled inside his head.
"Dean?..." he said softly drawing Dean's attention to him, "Dean…say something…"
"…uhm..iin…" Dean garbled and blinked trying to get his eyes to both look at the same thing at the same time, "…'sa matter w'you?" he squinted hard at his little brother, frightened by the fear he saw on his face.
Sam gasped relief through a laugh and ran his hand down his face as Dean rocked his head from side to side and winced before starting to orient himself to the floor and trying to get up.
"No! Stay down…" Sam held him gently with a hand on his chest then looked at Martin, "Go call 911…" he instructed.
Dean's brows crinkled and his mouth frowned, "Sam… hold it Martin…"
"Martin… go please…" Sam admonished and caught Dean's attention while the boy rose wordlessly to his feet, nodding and ran down the hall toward the nearest phone, "Dean, listen to me… you're going to the hospital…" he insisted.
Dean closed his eyes and breathed deep, pushing Sam's hand off his chest as he rolled to his side.
"Dean!" Sam barked feeling his heart lurch in his chest, "Don't move!" his cry and the fear behind it actually stopped Dean from pushing himself upright. He let himself roll back to his original position with Sam supporting his head and neck.
"What is it Sam?" he asked softly, feeling his heart beat pick up pace with his little brother's obvious fear.
Sam swallowed hard around the words that he didn't want to utter and shook his head.
"What?" Dean asked.
"Just please… let's get you checked out okay… Please…"
"I was dead wasn't I?" Dean muttered certainly and closed his eyes when Sam nodded and mouthed the word, 'Yeah'.
"Okay then… a few x-rays, maybe another CT – hey with the amount of radiation I've got in the last year alone any kids I have'll probably have at least three heads…" he joked, trying to exorcise the very unsettling mask of genuine, deep fear on Sam's face, while drumming his fingers on his chest as they waited.
"Hoping for daughters then?" Sam joked tightly.
"They're coming…" Martin huffed returning from somewhere down the hall, he slid next to Dean on his knees and laid one hand onto his shoulder while the other grasped the older man's hand. "Are you gonna be okay?" he asked, his eyes flooding with an almost desperate concern.
"Yeah… I'm gonna be fine…" he assured the boy with a gentle squeeze of his fingers though his eyes only flicked away from Sam's for a moment before returning to that comfortable purchase.
--
"…are a very lucky man… the muscle soreness should go away in a couple days," the ER attending shook his hand, then turned and extended it to Sam even as Dean turned his head to the left and then the right, trying to pop the crick out of his neck.
"Thank you doctor…" Sam nodded and sucked back misty relief as his big brother rose and shrugged into his jacket, "Dean… what happened?" Sam asked taking advantage of the fact that they had a moment alone.
Dean shrugged, "Damned thing tried to sneak up behind us… I turned and it lashed out before I could get the shotgun up… I'm telling you Sammy… whatever this thing is we gotta find a way to get rid of it…for good…"
"Do you really think it's associated with the bell?..." Sam asked.
"Well what else do you think it could be?" Dean asked knowing the look on his little brothers' face.
Sam shrugged, "I don't know… maybe it's associated with Martin… I mean he's pretty well adjusted for a nine year old kid who's family is sitting in the formal dining room like statues… oh wait… they ARE statues…"
Dean frowned and shrugged, "It's possible…but whatever it is… my guts are telling me it has something to do with that damned bell Sam… we need to find out everything we can about it…"
Sam nodded, "I was making a rubbing of the inscriptions when you were pushed, we'll see what we can find out in the morning… in the meantime though I think we need to get somewhere relatively safe for the rest of the night…"
Dean nodded, "Yeah I'm beat… dyin' really takes it outta ya…"
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tbc
Please R&R
Let me know what you're thinking
Thanks.
sifi
