I'm baaaaaaaack! Hello to everyone! This story is a bit of a continuation from my other story "Switched? Uh Oh…" Little details might make a bit more sense if you read that one first but it's not completely necessary. Everything is kind of summed up in the first little bit of this story.
Hope you'll all read and review!
Enjoy!
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Dean shook his head and started running. In the past few months he'd noticed something about his brother. They'd get coordinates, phone call or quick visit from their father telling them of a new hunt they should check out… and they'd go. No questions asked, no argument nothing.
At first Dean had been ecstatic that Sam was finally warming up to the idea of hunting. He'd finally accepted it as what the Winchester's did best and was ready to start kicking ass with the best of them. The best being Dean, of coarse. But recently it had been more then Sam not questioning a job. Not only had Sam's hunting skills sharpened to a point where even Dean was now having trouble keeping up with him, but the youngest Winchester seemed to be enjoying the hunts.
On more and more hunts, as was the occasion now, Sam would smile before breaking into a sprint, racing Dean to the supernatural occurrence. The last hunt they were on Sam had even gone so far as to say,
"Race ya!" But there was no race to be had. As much as Dean hated to admit it, his brother's freaky long legs would out run Dean every time.
Part of Dean thought it was great that the two of them were finally having fun and the horrible realities of their life weren't weighing so heavily on Sam anymore. But another part of him was growing a tiny bit concerned. Sam's transition had happened so quickly, almost too quickly. It didn't seem like a kid who'd spent months of his life pinning over a lost girlfriend and seeking revenge would all of a sudden say, 'okay, demons dead, what's next?'
Dean had had the pleasure of experiencing Sam's nightmare's first hand when several months ago they'd inadvertently been switched into one another's bodies. The switch happened when trying to return from fighting a sleep demon on another plane. The only way they were able to switch back was thanks to the help of a group of rather odd, yet dedicated Lunar Sprites. One in particular, named Bryson who Sam had sworn up and down was a miniature version of the middle Winchester.
However when Dean's consciousness had been in Sam's body an odd thing had happened. Powers beyond any of their wildest dreams had come to light and soon enough the demon that had killed Mary and Jess reared it's ugly head. They'd fought the thing off long enough for Sam to get back into his body, trap the demon there where slowly, it had died.
Since that day Sam's body had lost use of it's powers again and a vision had yet to take him again. Sam was just a normal guy, or so it seemed. Every now and then Dean would have a nightmare of that night they'd had to return Sam's abilities back into his body. He could still picture his brother standing on that Sprite altar with a glare unlike any human or supernatural thing he'd ever seen. Wicked red eyes with slices of vibrant yellow etching them like demonic rays of sunshine. Nothing more had come of that look or the powers that had almost destroyed the Sprite's home.
A day or so after they'd left the small town farm Dean had asked Sam if he remembered what happened that night on the altar. Sam played dumb and said 'not a thing.' Dean knew his younger brother and knew Sam was hiding something. However Dean also respected Sam and knew if something were really wrong, Sam would tell him…
Theoretically, he hoped.
There was one thing, that no matter how curious Dean was, he was liking. Sam was finally hunting like Dean knew his brother could. Dodging, weaving, leaping, swiping, running, shooting, stabbing, dousing, burning… Sam was mastering them all. And in the process the boys had helped a lot more people in a less amount of time then they had in the past.
Hunts that used to take three or four days were now taking one or two. They'd get up bright and early, because Sam now slept like a dead sloth on a hot day and head out to do research. They'd become better at that too, diving and conquering. Usually by noon they'd have something and come nightfall they were already to banish, kill or exorcise what ever the supernatural maybe.
The demon was gone but evil was still out there and Sam and Dean were stopping it, left, right and center. So much so that Dean was finally having a thought that he never thought would enter his incredibly good looking head; God, how he needed a vacation. Because as much as the boys were getting better at hunting, they'd still get their dings, nics, scrapes, bruises and broken bones.
Since the demon had been killed, Sam and Dean had barely gone four days without killing something or researching it. A day ago they were in Ohio exorcising a poltergeist now they were in Montana chasing down a Rawhead in the woods. Montana was a nice state, pretty, even Dean had to admit. They'd driven past some gorgeous mountains that even he wouldn't mind camping by.
He'd yet to suggest the idea to Sam however as the moment they'd settled at their roadside motel, the young Winchester was out of the car and on his lap top. Dean's body still ached from the punishment it took while handling a haunted church a week ago. And as much as it pained him to say it, a nice cabin in the woods at the foot of a beautiful mountain or by a nice cool lake. A few cases of beer, some food supplies and a weekend, maybe a bit more. No cell phone coordinates or email or researching, just two brothers, relaxing like normal human beings.
Dean skidded to a halt in the dark woods not believing what he had just thought. Sam was the one that complained about not having a normal life, not him.
BLAM shuck-shuck BLAM shuck-shuck BLAM
"WHOOOOOOOOO!" Dean wasn't just ripped from his thoughts he was actually startled into dropping his own weapon when he heard the blasts from Sam's shotgun. Blasts followed by an oddly out of place cry of elation.
Dean snapped too and started running again, only to run a short distance to a less dense part of the forest where Sam stood over the body of the Rawhead they'd been hunting. Sam had his shotgun in one hand slung over his shoulder like he was straight out of a John Wayne moving. As Dean approached, a bit more out of breath then he'd like to have been, Sam swung his head toward him.
"Holy shit, Dean did you see that thing's freaking head explode?" Sam asked. Dean smiled at his brother's enthusiasm and looked down to the creature that was indeed, minus half it's head and for that matter, upper torso.
"Nice going, but you know you only needed to shoot it in the heart… once," Dean replied.
"Pffffft," Sam said waving a hand, "Where's the fun in that?" Looking at his brother again, Dean wondered oddly what the man was thinking. Sam was looking at the body again, grinning like he'd just won a million dollars. "Let's torch this sucker and get back on the road. We can hit the road and be in Washington by nightfall tomorrow."
"What's in Washington?" Dean asked.
"Haunted girl's private school," Sam said wiggling his eyebrows, "Come on," he said giving his brother a nudge, "This job is a 'damsel in distress' gimme job! I researched it on our way here and I think…"
"Sam!" Dean blurted out. Sam snapped his shot gun up and started swinging it around them searching the darkness for an unseen foe.
"What? Where is it?" he demanded. Dean sighed and realized as much as he needed a vacation, Sam needed it more. His brother was way to high strung at the moment.
"There isn't anything Sam," Dean replied. "And I'm pretty sure if there was, you would have already killed it by now." Sam looked at him inquisitively but lowered his gun with a smile.
"Then what is it?" he asked. Dean took a deep breath and hesitated. Before the demon it would have been Sam in this position, it would have been Sam who would be telling Dean to slow down and maybe take a break. But Dean couldn't wait for the old Sam to come back. True they were in their own bodies and had been for sometime but it just seemed at the moment, they'd switched roles.
"Sam look at us," he sighed. "We've barely taken a long enough break to zip down and take a piss. I was thinking… I mean maybe we should… I dunno, take a vacation." Sam's gaze was unreadable for a moment, he blinked and then blinked again.
"Vacation?" he asked as if the words held no meaning for him.
"Yeah," Dean replied. "This is a nice place around here, we could get a cabin and just… relax for a few days." Sam started laughing but then stopped when Dean scowled at him.
"You're serious?" he asked. "You actually want to take a vacation?" Dean rolled his eyes and pulled out the lighter fluid from his jacket pocket.
"Never mind, it was stupid," he huffed. He started dousing the Rawhead's body in accelerant. Had he known his brother was going to dismiss him so quickly he surely would have kept his mouth shut. Now he just looked like an kicked puppy with his tail between his legs.
"No," Sam replied. Just as Dean was about to strike a match he paused and looked back to his brother. It was hard to see him in the dark half moon lit night but Dean had heard the fatigue finally register in Sam's voice.
"No, what?" he asked. Sam sighed and shook his head, his long hair bouncing from side to side. Since the incident Sam had dubbed, 'the ultimate punishment of all things Dean related' or as Dean called it, 'Sammy needed to shave that mop', the youngest Winchester had proudly grown his hair back and then some.
The look was still similar to the way Sam had always kept it since his teen years but now it was just a bit longer. Even more in his eyes and even more annoying to Dean and their father.
"No it's not a stupid idea," Sam replied. Dean snapped his head back surprised at his brother's response. Then he snapped his head back again, actually hurting himself a little, surprised that he had been surprised by Sam's reply.
"So… we take a break?" Dean asked. "Find a cabin around here?"
"Do ya one better big brother," Sam smiled. "Jess and I came to Montana a few times…" Dean felt his heart quicken it's pace, it was the first time since the demon had been destroyed that he'd heard his brother even mention the deceased love of his. Disturbingly, that comforted Dean.
"I'm sorry I didn't realize…"
"Nothing to apologize for Dean," Sam cut him off. "Anyway she and I came here once and stayed in a cabin at a resort maybe a half hour drive from here. Jess and I made friends with the old woman that owned the place and she said if we were ever in her neck of the woods again, we should stop by." Dean suddenly felt awkward staying at a place that would hold so much memory for his younger brother and didn't want to put him through such an event.
"Maybe we should just move on," he said. "We can take a vacation after we pick up some private school girls… the legal age ones of course."
"Grindin' my gears Dean, no sixteen year olds?" Sam laughed.
"Cradle robber," Dean joked back. The brief humour soon dissipated again as Dean fiddled with the match in his hand. "Seriously Sam, if you don't want to stop…"
"Dean come on," Sam said, once again cutting his older brother off, "I loved Jess and yeah this place will have memories but… good memories. It'd actually be nice to go back there. I guess it just caught me off guard that you'd be willing to go there." Dean smiled, glad his brother probably couldn't see his face in the dark night.
"It's settled then," he replied. "We burn Mr. Raw here and then go find that nice old lady and see if she'll give us a free stay."
"Dean," Sam warned. Dean struck the match and looked back down at their fallen prey.
"Okay, okay," he laughed. "We'll just ask for a discount." He dropped the match and winced as the bright blaze shrunk his retinas back to size. It always amazed Dean how hot and how quickly a body exposed to lighter fluid, could burn. Dean mused that maybe the supernatural wasn't very flame retardant or maybe they just had, explosive personalities… Dean smiled.
"Dean?"
"What is it Sammy?" he asked. The fire curled and danced as the body of the Rawhead was consumed.
"I uh… I believe I have myself a predicament," Sam replied. Dean started to turn to make fun of his little brother for sounding like an idiot but never even cracked a smile. In the light of the fire Dean was finally able to see his brother properly… and the blood that came with him. A large gash, probably made by the Raw's claw traced from the back of Sam's hand all the way up to a nick on his bicep. The wound was deep and was still bleeding all over the place.
"Jesus Sam," Dean exhaled. He quickly pulled a roll of gauze from his pocket and started wrapping. Before the demon an injury such as this would require one of their shirts to patch up, until they could get back to the car. Or sometimes it would even require them to get back to their place of residence at the time. But Dean had gotten smarter now, instead of letting himself or Sam bleed to death before they could get the necessary supplies, he started carrying something's with him. Gauze was always there, as was a small tube of Tylenol and some disinfectant.
"Hey Dean?" Sam asked. Dean looked up at his little brother's face as he finished wrapping and tied the gauze off, most likely the wound would need stitches later.
"Yeah Sam?" he replied. His brother's face was paler then it should have been and he teetered a little but seemed to be fairing alright.
"I definitely think I'm ready for vacation to start now," he replied. Dean smiled as did Sam. After throwing his brother's good arm over his shoulders for support, Dean walked the two of them back to the Impala and on to a much needed break.
The next morning the two of them were quick to pack up their things and check out of the stingy motel that probably hadn't seen a real maid since the 70's and hit the road. Soon after the pulled into a long winding dirt driveway underneath a sign that read, 'Shooter's Cottage Resort.'
The main building to the resort was a newer building, giving Dean comfort that it hadn't had time to gather spirits yet. It looked like a large homestead and had a very nice 'welcome travelers' sign out front. Inside was even nicer, front entrance way that led straight to a nice mahogany front desk.
Dean kept a careful eye on his brother, who'd had to suffer through forty stitches the night before with nothing more then a few swigs of hard liquor and dinged the bell. As he waited for someone to come he looked at his brother again. Sam was a bit pale, but better then the night before. When Dean had brought Sam into the motel the comment that Sam looked like the walking Dead had slipped out.
Sam, though ready to collapse had weakly smiled at Dean and simply said, "Brains."
Sam caught Dean staring at him and scowled.
"Dude, it's just a flesh wound, I'm not going to keel over and die," he said. Dean shrugged.
"I'm just saying you still look a little pale," he replied. "You sure you're okay?"
"Get of my back Dean," Sam suddenly hissed. Dean took a step back wondering where his brother's sudden change in attitude had come from.
"Easy killer," he said. "Seriously, you take a bitch pill this morning?" Sam narrowed his eyes and looked like he was about to say more when suddenly he stood taller and smiled, looking over Dean's shoulder.
Dean turned to see a portly old woman approaching them with a nice sturdy Golden Retriever faithfully at her side. When the woman reached the desk she lifted the glasses that hung around her neck and placed them on her nose. Then she smiled and looked up, her smile grew.
"Samuel Winchester from Lawrence, Kansas. Stanford wasn't it?" she asked. Dean's mouth dropped open and he looked between the two people. Sam smiled a warm smile and nodded.
"Good memory Mrs. Shooter," he said. "It's good to see you again."
"You two love," the old woman smiled. "And as I recall I told you to call me Louise, haven't been Mrs. Shooter since the husband up and died on me in '92." Dean couldn't suppress a laugh at the woman's tough nature. She may have been in her elder years but this woman clearly had many more left in her. This drew Louise's attention and she leaned in a bit closer.
"Now by the laugh and the trouble making twinkle in your eye I'd say you're the brother… Dean was it?" she said.
"I'm impressed," Dean replied. "But then again a beautiful young woman such as yourself doesn't need to do much to attract a man's attention." Louise's face, lit up like a Christmas tree and she let out a hardy laugh before shaking her head and wagging a finger at Dean.
"I can see Sam was right about you," she laughed. "Always the charmer." Dean looked at his brother, happy for the compliment, Sam sighed and rolled his eyes with a smile.
"Anyway, we're wondering if we could rent a cabin for a few days?" Sam asked. "We're a little tight on money right now so if you have something cheap…"
"Don't be silly," Louise replied. "You and your Jessica reminded me so much of my Bernard and I when we were your age. It was a breath of fresh air to have you hear Sam and it will be again. This place needs more young people to liven it up. Will Jessica be joining the two of you?" Dean visibly winced at the words but kept his mouth shut, allowing Sam to respond how he felt necessary.
"Actually Jess was… in an fire just over a year ago. She… died," Sam said haltingly. It was clear by the look on Sam's face that he still didn't like to think to much about what had happened. Which made his behavior over the past few months rather strange. There were times when Dean was sure Sam had forgotten all about Jess or didn't seem to care anymore.
Now however Dean was seeing more of the old emotional, 'heart on his sleeve' Sammy. It was nice for the 'terminate everything that moves' Sammy to take a back seat, even if it was just for a moment.
"Oh dear," Louise said genuinely. She came around the front desk and pulled Sam into a hug. Sam returned the hug and actually looked as though he was really enjoying it. "I'm so sorry, I didn't know her long but you two seemed so in love."
"We were," Sam said as they pulled apart. The smile on his face was only slightly forced. "But my brother's been helping me a lot since her death," Sam said. Dean felt himself beam with pride, Mr. Big Brother, indeed! Even if he wasn't quite sure how he'd helped his brother, he was glad it was so.
"We'll then you boys can stay as long as you like," Louise said. "It's the off season so we don't get many customers staying out here. You boys can have cabin 26 right by the lake, free of charge."
"Mrs. Shooter… Louise we couldn't possibly stay for free, let alone cabin 26... That's the nicest one you've got on this land," Sam replied. Dean looked at his brother wondering just how many times Sam had actually come to this resort.
"Non negotiable," Louise said. She pulled a set of keys from a drawer under the desk and handed one to Dean and the other to Sam. "I want you to stay and stay well. You look pale Sam, like you need a good rest. That and I'd like to keep a charmer like Dean here around as long as possible. It's good for a woman's ego, you see." Both Dean and Sam laughed and accepted the keys.
"We'll find a way to repay you Mrs. Shooter," Dean said. He was all for getting free things, especially nice free things but even he felt a little guilty at the moment.
"You can repay me by having a nice time and joining me for tea tomorrow afternoon. My bridge partner Midge is coming by and I know she'd like to see the boy who saved her life again," Louise said. "I know I'm still thanking you for that day." Dean raised an eyebrow and looked at Sam curiously. Sam had gone an interesting hue of red and was looking down at his hands.
"Saved their lives?" he echoed.
"It was nothing," Sam replied sheepishly. Louise snorted.
"Horse manure," she said. "Midge and I would be dead if Sam hadn't stopped that ghost from taking our hearts!" This time, when Dean's head snapped back, he actually heard his neck crack slightly.
"Ghost?" he spat. Then he realized the woman in front of them seemed perfectly fine with the idea.
"Oh yes," Louise said. "The old homestead was built by early settlers a man had died after starving himself to death when his wife killed herself, leaving a note blaming him for everything. People said the woman took his heart out so… guess he was trying to take everyone else's. Midge and I were playing bridge like always when that spirit appeared and your brother came charging in tossing salt all over my floors." Dean couldn't believe what he was hearing. Sam had done nothing all his life but weep and moan for a normal life when it turned out, even at Stanford he'd still gone on a hunt of his own.
"Is that true?" he asked. Sam nodded sheepishly then shrugged.
"I didn't know that when Jess and I first stayed," he replied. "But it was a simple tortured spirit that had attached itself to that house."
"And now?" Dean asked, never one to leave a job unfinished.
"The old homestead was old and rotten anyway," Louise replied. "Sam… what was it… salted and burned the bones?" Sam nodded, still blushing furiously. "He burned the bones and the ghost never came back. Just in case though I went through with plans to build a new homestead anyway and tear down the old one."
"Smart move," Dean replied. But still he was shocked by the admonition that his brother had gone on a hunt while he and their father had believed Sam, safe and sound in university.
"Well anyway," Louise said. "Tea's at noon and I expect you both to be there. I've got chores to get done and staff to order around. Sam you know you're way to 26 right?" Sam nodded, his colour still hadn't changed from it's terribly embarrassed hue. Dean looked at Louise and smiled as best he could under the circumstances. His brother had flat out lied to him and it hurt.
"Thanks so much Mrs. Shooter, we'll see you tomorrow," he said. Then like that he walked out the door back to the Impala.
The short drive to the cabin had been in total and utter silence, save one or two directions from Sam. Dean was angry, he was furious Sam would have been so reckless and gone into a hunt alone.
However once inside the cabin Dean was momentarily derailed from his anger. It was bungalow style with two doorways leading to bedrooms on the road side of the house. The main living room was slightly lowered with three large couches facing a huge bay window that overlooked the lake. The kitchenette was the closest thing to the doorway as was the bathroom opposite it. Dean wasn't just inside a nice log cabin, he was in paradise.
"Dean." So much for paradise. Dean's wonderment came crashing back to reality as he remembered just how upset he was. With a huff, Dean moved toward one of the bedrooms and tossed his duffle inside before returning to the main room. Sam did the same although he placed his duffel bag down with considerable more care then Dean thought necessary. It hadn't gone unnoticed that Sam had once again forgotten to zip up the duffel.
"What the hell Sam?" Dean spat. "How in your right mind could you be that stupid?" Sam rolled his eyes as he returned to the main room to face off with Dean.
"It was a simply spirit," Sam said. "What was I supposed to do? Call you and dad? If, IF, you had called back those two sweet old women would have been dead. I did what I did because I had too."
"And what if you had gotten hurt? What if those women weren't so accepting of your ghost story?" Dean demanded. Sam flopped down on one of the couches and kicked off his shoes.
"I would have dealt with it Dean!" he yelled. "I was old enough to live without the two of you and I was damn sure old enough to make my own decisions regarding life and death. Hell, we've been making those kind of choices since we were kids!" Dean pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, he could feel a headache coming on and they still needed to get supplies for the week.
"I know you can Sam and you did the right thing protecting those ladies but…"
"But WHAT Dean?" Sam yelled. "I don't get you sometimes! I finally start acting like the soldier the marine you call a father wanted and you turn into some sort of blubbering nostalgic pussy! The past is the past Dean, why do you have to go out of your way to dig it up!" Where this attitude was coming from Dean didn't know but the more it continued, the more he grew concerned. That and the fact that Dean had noticed his brother's hands were shaking slightly.
"I am allowed to worry about you Sam, I am your big brother," Dean asked carefully. Sam snapped his head toward Dean frighteningly fast and for a moment, Dean could have sworn he heard a low growl.
"Exactly, you're my brother," Sam snarled. "You're supposed to heckle me and not give a shit what I do. Face it Dean, you're not my god damn mother and you never will be!" That one cut Dean straight to the core. He'd always felt bad for Sam, knowing how hard it had been going through elementary school without a mother and a barely present father.
Dean pivoted on his heels and headed back toward the door. He had felt bad for Sam and had done everything in his power to give him a normal childhood, only to have it thrown back in his face.
"Dean, wait, I, I didn't mean it," Sam pleaded. Just as Dean reached the door Sam stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. Quickly Dean shrugged him off and harshly pulled open the door.
"I'm going to get supplies," he snapped. "You're so independent, you should be alright for awhile." And with that, Dean walked out the door and slammed it behind him. He knew Sam didn't really think that little of him and was grateful for all that Dean had done for him. Still what he said, stung. They both just needed a little time to cool off from one another. Maybe Sam would be back to relatively normal ways when Dean returned.
Sam leaned his head against the back of the door and touched it lightly as if he could some how physically take back what he's just said. He hadn't been thinking when the words slipped from his mouth. His headache was throbbing at his temples and his hands shook.
This happened every time he'd wait to long to quell his urge. For a few days after the demon had died, Sam thought he'd got a handle on the urge. He thought he'd got a handle and would no longer need to physically stop himself from getting out of hand.
But he could feel his whole body begin to shake and new something had to be done. Quickly and actually grateful Dean had left when he had, Sam rushed to his room and quickly reached into his bag. Inside he pulled out a small box with neatly cut air holes in the lid.
Opening it, Sam was greeted by two sad little eyes. Gently Sam reached in and pulled the small piece of tape from over Bryson's mouth. Then he pulled out a granola bar from his pocket, opened it and broke off a piece before holding it to Bryson's small mouth.
"I'm not hungry," Bryson said. Sam sighed and put the granola bar down.
"You have to eat Bryson, you've already lost some weight," he replied. It was the same routine they'd been going through since they'd left the Sprite's small home. Bryson would refuse to eat. Sam would tell him he had to. Bryson would reply back with something angry and spite filled…
"Don't pretend to care Sam, you're a monster!" Sam would sigh roll his eyes and simply get down to business with no further incident. Every now and then however Bryson would push it and Sam would struggle to control himself but usually managed to get a hold of it.
"You know if there was any other way I'd let you go in a heart beat but… Bryson you have to understand what you're doing for me," Sam said. He wiped off a space on the bureau and lifted Bryson out of the box, easing the tape from the Sprite's wings.
"You have a problem Sam, a problem that's turning you into a monster and you know it!" Bryson hissed. Suddenly Sam felt himself loosing control as he gripped the small Sprite and yanked him within inches of his face.
"Wrong," he snarled. "I have a necessity to save myself from becoming a monster. Don't push me Sprite, you know what happens when I get upset." As expected Bryson's little eyes grew wide with fear as Sam's grip tightened. Sam was just reaching for Bryson's wings, when the little Sprite, changed the rules of the game.
"I know you need help," Bryson squeaked. "M, maybe if you talk to Dean about th--"
"DEAN?" Sam howled. The fire was building up in him, he could feel himself loosing control of his calm and growing angrier by the second. He started squeezing Bryson which was made evident by the small Sprite's gasping. "Are you insane? Listen you little bastard, if you even think of trying to get Dean's attention to yourself I will come in hear and rip your damn wings off! They'll still be of use to me if you're dead and when that runs out I'll go back and find your little friends and do the same to them! You do NOT want me angry Bryson, do you?" Tiny tears trickled from Bryson's eyes as his red, oxygen deprived face turned away from Sam's gaze.
"No," he whispered. "I'm sorry, please." Sam barely heard the Sprite. Instead he held the sprite over the bureau and started flicking one of his wings. After a few flicks, sparkling dust started to come free and settle on the table. After several more flicks a considerable amount had settled on the table and Sam angrily wretched Bryson back up to his face.
"You cause yourself pain, Sprite. If you just gave me the dust I wouldn't have to force it from you," he snarled. Bryson said nothing as Sam taped him up and roughly tossed him back into the box. He tossed in the granola bar as well, knowing the Sprite would eat eventually out of sheer need to eat. Then after securing the lid back on the box Sam slid the box under his bed toward the back so it was hidden behind the bedside table. He shoved his duffel bag underneath the bed as well, completely hiding the box.
Then Sam, who's started to twitch angrily, headed back to the bureau. However as badly as he was shaking at the moment he couldn't help but stop and stare at his reflection in the mirror. What looked back, would scare even veteran hunters like Dean and their father. Two red eyes with streaks of yellow, hair that was gradually loosing all it's colour and going a ghostly white and a skin that seamed almost… golden.
Tears of rage filled Sam's eyes as he stared at his horrid reflection, he hadn't asked for this. He'd never wanted to be a freak and it seemed every time he thought he was closer to normal, his dream would be ripped away.
Not wasting another second, Sam swept the Sprite dust into his hand and inhaled it into his mouth. The dust burned slightly as it always did and then began to tingle throughout his entire body. A wave of calm washed over Sam and he closed his eyes to take a deep breath, speeding up the effects. When he opened his eyes again normal Sam Winchester had returned in the mirror and he'd returned with a smile.
"You're okay Sam," he told himself. Then he turned to the door, "You'll always be okay."
Back in the living room Sam lowered himself to the couch and allowed the soothing sensation continue to magnify. Dean was right, maybe rest was a good thing at the moment. Sam was asleep even before he realized his eyes had closed.
Next to the dust bunnies and an old green duffle bag a small shuffling of a granola bar could be heard and with it, the tiny sobs of a heartbroken Sprite.
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TBC…
Oh my god… poor little Bryson! Sniff! Don't worry, Bryson will be okay I promise! Just bare with me!
As always an little sneak peak at the next chap;
… "We should take a vacation more often," Sam smiled. "I could get used to this."
"Sam?" Dean sighed. He needed to know before it drove him insane. It had been driving him nuts since he saw it that morning but missed his chance to investigate.
"Yeah?" Sam replied.
"What's in the box under your bed?" For a moment Sam just looked at him then he sighed and turned away.
"Picture's of Jess and some of her personal stuff… you didn't look did you?" he asked. Dean suddenly felt childish for being so curious.
"You know me better then that Sammy," he said.
"Yeah I do Dean," Sam sighed. "Look, the stuff in there is… I'm just not ready to show it to you yet okay? Promise me you'll let me keep my little slice of normal."
"Okay Sam," Dean said. "I wont touch the box, probably would be sick at all that mushy stuff anyway." Sam laughed and thumped Dean on the back.
"Heaven forbid you be exposed to pictures of true love," he replied. Dean turned away laughing.
"Gag me," he replied. And had already started forgetting about the box under the bed.
Hmm… dare you read the next chapter and find out if Dean can catch on that something is wrong? And wait… what IS wrong with Sam? Insert evil music here Mwa ha ha! Read and Review please!