I really did not mean to have you waiting for a whole week for the next installment. It's just been kind of a hectic time with work, and I actually had to go to the office most days and I was too drained in the evenings to work too much on this and I didn't want to just post something half-assed. Still not really satisfied with this chapter, but I'll make it up to you with the next
Chapter 8
Greetings, Master Piper,
The other kids and I can see you're new in town
It seems as though the world has got you beaten down
Well I'm sad to say this town will do the same
Heather Dale - Pied Piper
The first thing Dean was aware of when he could finally make sense of things again was the pounding in his head. Everything else felt distant and numb, though, like he was experiencing someone else's sensations. He had no idea where he was, and his eyelids were too heavy to open. He thought he was tied to a chair somewhere, but even that wasn't enough to really alarm him.
The memories clouding his mind were vague. Strangely enough, the clearest one was about him and Bobby talking about…burger joints? That didn't make sense, though, and Dean knew that, however much Bobby might disagree about his choice in Burgers – the man had no taste, really – he would definitely not get so pissed that he'd drug Dean and tie him to a chair.
Then other images started coming to him, in pieces. Arriving to Rattigan. The Pied Piper. Rescuing Jim Hayes. Talking to doctor Blackstone. Sam.
The thought of Sam had the rest of his memories slamming back into his mind. Dean jolted, as if he had been hit head-on by a freight train. He pried his heavy eyes open. The last thing he remembered was being hit by something – drugged most likely. Sam had been telling him something about Loretta. He had been hinting that Loretta was the Pied Piper.
Dean found himself in a dark room – an attic, he thought, probably the one at the hotel. It was small and full of various broken household objects. Sam was several feet away, tied to a chair, just like him. His head was bent and he did not appear to be conscious. A figure was leaning over him. That cleared the rest of Dean's clouds from his mind.
"Hey!" he shouted.
The figure turned. It was Loretta, but at the same time it wasn't. The figure in front of him was tall, wearing this cloak that made her look shapeless. She had changed, somehow, losing the benign aspect Dean had been used to and transforming into something else. She was holding the pipe close to her.
"Hello, Dean," she greeted, and even the voice did not sound like Loretta's. "I was thinking you were going to sleep through all of it. Sammy woke up before you, you know."
Dean pulled at the bonds ineffectively.
"You don't get to call him that, you twisted bitch. What did you do to him, anyway?"
Loretta's grin turned feral.
"You could say I wore him out," she leered. "Sorry, Dean. I was hungry."
Which meant she had drawn forth Sam's negative emotions and feasted on them. And given what Sam had been through, that did not bode well at all.
"Sammy?" Dean tried, but he received no answer. His brother's head was still bent. Dean found it hard to see if he was even alive by this point. The thought made him feel cold.
"He's a bit indisposed right now," Loretta said. "And I didn't even get to the good parts. Just the old hurts. His girlfriend dying. His father disowning him because he wanted to go to college. You and him fighting in a …was that a honeymoon suite? No wonder people misinterpret your relationship."
Dean struggled with the ropes. Loretta hadn't touched Sam's Wall yet. But he knew it was only a matter of time.
"Leave him alone, you bitch. He's done, you hear me?"
"Oh, you're right," Loretta agreed pleasantly. "He can't feel fear if he's unconscious. You, on the other hand…What do you have to offer me, Dean?"
Dean shook his head, still testing his bonds. They held, but maybe he could keep working on them.
"Why did you go after us, anyway? Aren't your type usually way younger?"
Loretta laughed.
"Children's emotions are exquisite, I'll admit that. They turn even the smallest fears and anxieties into fixations. Kelsey Blackstone, for example. Not only was she convinced her stepmother hated her and her father had no idea she existed, she was also afraid of growing old and dying all alone. Pretty complex for her age. Well, I took advantage of that fear. Jim Hayes was more disappointing, though. He might have been a little insecure, but when I tried to convince him his parents loved his baby sister more than him, he shut me down. That's why he escaped me in the end. There was no substance to his fear."
Loretta paused. She glanced back at Sam, who still had not moved, then turned to Dean.
"Now, your brother – he had a lot of fears. And when I realized who he was supposed to be…I knew I was in for a feast. I would have kept him, too. I would have drained him."
"Let me guess," Dean said smirking. "Sammy got out."
Loretta's smile faded.
"Unfortunately, I could not make him lose his faith in you completely," she admitted. "That sustained him."
Dean was sure that bit of information was going to keep him happy for years to come. If he got out of this mess, of course.
"What's your problem anyway? What did this place ever do to you? Can't you solve your grudges in a civilized manner instead of becoming something that gorges on kids' negative emotions?"
Loretta's fists clenched around the flute.
"I wanted a life for myself!" she cried. "I wanted to make myself the priority for once. But my parents had this useless hotel, passed on from generation to generation, and guess who was set up to carry the legacy? My sister was allowed to leave town. She married some guy and lived her life in New York, far from here, had kids and a job. I wanted those, but I had to stay here. The family business, you see." She paused and eyed Dean speculatively. "Perhaps, you do see. You resented Sam when he went to Stanford, didn't you?"
Dean chose to ignore that. Whatever resentment there had been, he was pretty sure he hadn't taken it out on innocent kids.
"And I thought I was going to get out, you know?" Loretta went on. "I was young. I met this guy. He promised to take me away. Turns out he was using me to get the hotel. He broke my heart – and everyone in town, when they found out, they couldn't stop judging me."
Dean kept working at his bonds. He thought that, if he could keep Loretta distracted and talking, he might be able to take her by surprise. At least, it would keep her away from Sam a little longer.
"So how did you do it, anyway?" he asked. "What gave you the idea to become the dude with the flute? Not that I'm judging or anything…"
Loretta smiled.
"I found some things in my mother's stuff. Things from my forbearers. Including the pipe. Funny how no one realized what it was…"
She put the pipe to her lips and blew a shrill note. Rats scuttled from the corner of the dark attic. They made Dean's skin crawl.
"Now," Loretta said, turning to Dean. "What can you give me?"
Dean pulled at the bonds until his wrists felt raw. Loretta was in front of him, now. She placed one hand on his forehead. There was a strange, cold sensation, then Dean felt his memories being drawn out of his brain. All the bad stuff: Dad and Sam dying and Hell and Stull cemetery and the loneliness of after. It all came flooding into his mind.
Dimly he heard someone screaming. It took him a while to figure out it was him. He had forgotten where he was. He had forgotten Loretta and even Sam. All he knew was the agony of every dark moment in his life.
There was a mist gathering in the corners of his eyes. It threatened to engulf him, and Dean struggled against it. He did not want to leave Sam vulnerable to Loretta's influence. It was getting harder and harder to focus. Soon, there was nothing Dean could do. He let the world go dark around him.
xxxXXXXxxxxx
"Dean? Dean! Dean, wake up."
Dean really did not want to wake up. His head felt like somebody was performing a seriously sick drum solo inside his skull. He was tired and out of it, all his energy sapped from him in a way he could not quite explain. Unconsciousness would be much better for a while, he was sure. Certainly, it would be less painful.
"C'mon, Dean. Wake up already."
That was Sam, and he sounded frightened and about ten years younger than he really was. It was enough to have Dean fighting to wake up. He pried open his heavy eyelids and tried to raise his head.
Sam was still bound in his chair, only he was alert and less pale than before. There was no sign of Loretta.
"How come we're alone?" he asked.
Sam shrugged.
"I don't know. I woke up a while ago. You've been…I tried calling you, but you've been unresponsive all this time. Did she…did she made you see things?"
Dean started working on his bonds again. Loretta had not checked them while he had been unconscious. She had probably not realized he had started loosening them. Well, he was nearly shredding his wrists while doing so, but he would take it if it meant getting out of there. Right now Loretta was gone. But, if she came back, Dean was sure she would go straight for Sam. After all, Dean was only the appetizer. Sam and what was behind his Wall were the main course and desert all in one.
"Listen to me," he told Sam. "If we're still here when she comes, I want you to pretend to be still out."
It was too dark for him to make out Sam's expression fully, but Dean knew his brother enough to be aware Sam was frowning at him.
"Why? So she can go to you? Dean, I've been trying to reach you for what felt like hours. She took a hell of a lot out of you."
"Sam, if she feeds on you she goes straight for the Hell-wall," Dean reasoned. "I'm not losing you to some heartbroken hag who works out her issue by feeding on other people's crappy memories."
As if to prove his point, Dean wrenched his hands harder. The rope gave way. If only their luck held for once.
"Come on, come on, come on…" he muttered.
Sam looked at him curiously.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"What's it look like I'm doing?" Dean snapped. "You wanna hang around here longer than necessary?"
"Not really," Sam admitted. "But she tied us good, Dean. I can't move my hands at all. You?"
"I think she was less zealous with me," he said. "Must have a grudge against you. You did escape her once, after all."
Sam said nothing. Dean focused on his bonds. His hands were going numb. On the plus side, he did not think it would take him too long to finally get free.
"That's what I'm talking about!" he grinned when he felt the rope loosening.
He bent and quickly got to work on the rope holding his legs to the chair. The position made him dizzy and he had to swallow against the nausea. No good for Sam finding out that whatever the Pied Piper had done to him, the result was that he was not exactly functioning at 100%.
Dean got up and had to quickly grab the chair as the ground tilted beneath him. For a moment, Sam's panicked calls came from far away. Dean took several deep breaths and the fog around him lessened slightly. At least he could stand up without falling flat on his face now. Mostly.
"I'm good, Sam," he said smirking. "I'm awesome."
"Like hell you are," Sam retorted. "You were about to keel over like some swooning damsel."
Dean glared at his brother.
"Hey, need I remind you which of us is still tied up and needing to be rescued, princess? And I'm fine. Just got up to fast, that's all."
"I'm sure that's all it was," Sam muttered flatly.
Dean scowled. There were times when he seriously wished Sam had not learned sass from him. Other times, he would not have his brother any other way.
The spell of dizziness was gone and Dean's headache dropped to a more manageable level. He let go of the chair and made his way to Sam. He had to sidestep several dead rats as he did so. He wondered if the fact that they were dead was significant.
Sam's bonds were tighter than his had been. Maybe Loretta had done it out of practical reasons, after all, Sam was taller than Dean, however much Dean pretended most of the time it was not so. Or maybe it had been personal. Loretta had to be pissed that Sam had escaped her all those years back.
"Done," Dean said when he finally managed to untie Sam's hands and set to work on his legs.
Sam hissed and rubbed his numb wrists.
"We should get the hell out of here before she comes back," he said.
"That's the plan," Dean said, helping Sam up.
Of course, with how dizzy Dean still was, it was hard to tell which of them was actually holding the other up.
Sam was looking around him, a strange, tight expression on his face.
"Dean, I know this place," he said. "I think she took me here before. I think that's where she kept me, before she cut me loose."
Dean shook his head quickly.
"She didn't cut you loose, Sam. You escaped. She told me. You got yourself out. Now, the question is how."
He watched as Sam's face took on a puzzled expression.
"I did get myself out," Sam said. "Eventually. I…kinda remember now."
xxxXXXXxxxx
Sam woke up trembling. He was freezing, as if he had lain for hours somewhere in the snow. He had vague memories of the Piper and the things he had been shown. His future, so the Piper had told him. The thing he was supposed to become. What would happen to him. The reason he should surrender to the Piper and give up the idea of making his way back to Dean.
He was in some kind of attic, messy and dark. The kind of place where ghosts liked to hide, Dean had told him once. Sam closed his eyes tight. It seemed that every thought, every memory of his led to Dean, one way or another.
Sam remembered what the Piper had told him. That Dean would not want to be anywhere near him, if he knew what was in store for Sam. And Sam had allowed himself to believe that. Just as he had allowed himself to fall completely into the Piper's clutches.
He did not know how much time had passed since his argument with his Dad and the music he had decided to follow. He was sure the Piper had fed on him twice, always showing him the same images of doom and hellfire. The same images that were flashing in his mind right now.
"What if it won't happen?" Sam asked himself. "Or what if it will happen if I don't get out of here? What if by staying here I turn into something else? Something that could harm Dean?"
The thought made him shiver worse than the cold. He had to get out of there. He had to find his father, if only to tell him that he had found out he might be a danger to Dean. A danger to them all.
There were two doors. One of them was blocked by several pieces of furniture. There was no way Sam was going to push them back on his own. He made his way towards the other door, on the opposite end of the room. He steadfastly did not look at the dead and dying rats he could see in the room. Why were they dying, anyway? When the Piper had been there, they had been alive and active.
Sam opened the door. He was looking at a long corridor. It looked dark and threatening. But there were no rats and no other dangers. Sam would have to take a chance and run for it.
He bolted out the door and ran as fast as his legs would carry him. He ignored everything – the exhaustion, the cold, the pain in his bare feet. He was John Winchester's son and Dean Winchester's brother. And he knew how to push through the pain.
Sam ran until he reached a flight of stairs. He stopped, panting slightly, holding on to the banister. He was dizzy and breathless. He thought he must be coming down with something – not surprising, he had been freezing ever since he had left his hotel room. But that did not matter now. All that mattered was getting out and getting to Dad.
He was halfway down the stairs when he heard it again. The music, calling to him. Telling him he was a danger to his family. Telling him he was saving himself by staying where he was. Urging him to return, because that was the only way he could Dean happy – if Sam stayed away from him.
Sam wavered. The music was too much for him. And if that was really the way to help Dean…? After all, Dean had disappeared no one knew where, and what if Sam had been the cause? What if the reason Dad and Bobby were not telling him anything about Dean's whereabouts was because they did not know how to tell Sam that Dean did not want to be near him anymore?
He had half turned to make his way back up the stairs, even though he knew there would be no escaping the next time. Something changed in him, then. He remembered Dean the day he had disappeared. How he had smiled at him and ruffled his hair and said "See you soon, Sammy" right before walking out the door. Just as he had always done. And Sam did not want to believe that it had all been pretend and Dean had known he would not be coming back to Sam. Because there was one thing the monster upstairs did not seem to know: Dean always came back to Sam.
He turned and bounded down the stairs. The music was growing fainter. There were rats all around him, though, biting his ankles, tripping him. Sam slipped and fell to his knees at the foot of the stairs. Yet he kept moving, kept staggering, knowing that, if he escaped that place, he might have a chance.
Outside, the forest waited for him, silent and menacing.
Next chapter will come sooner, I promise. Also, from today or tomorrow you can also find me on archive of our own under the pen name Star_Wanderer. I'll just start posting the stuff I have here there as well for now (bit of branching out and all), but you'll still get all new content first. Cheers and stay safe out there!