Hey again everyone! I've got say THANK YOU so much to all of you who review or just read the story! And I really hope you all had a fabulous Christmas cause I know I did. Yep! I got exactly the CDs that I wanted, "Transatlanticism", "The Beautiful Letdown", and much more. Right now I'm listening to "Battle For Everything,".
Anyway, I noticed that some of you wondered if Sam is gonna be any different now when he's back from the dead. Sure, there's gonna be some changes with him, but not in the personality. He's still going to be Sam. And no, this is so not a deathfic, you guys! Okay, so I did kill Sam in the beginning but technically I brought him back right? Besides, I could never truly kill any of the brothers. I don't do that. This story is mainly going to focus on what happens when you mess with forces that you shouldn't mess with. Like Dean did when he brought his baby brother back from the dead.
Oh, and there's a small mention of Ridley C. James' Caleb in this chapter, so it belongs to her. Chapter 5 ladies and gentlemen. Enjoy!
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I need a lullaby, a kiss goodnight, angel-sweet love of my life... - "My Skin" - Natalie Merchant
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Things becomes much more troublesome the more Sam recovered from his so-called little 'poltergeist-adventure', as Dean would like to put it. Dean convinced both his father and Pastor Jim that it would be best if Sam didn't know that he had in fact been dead for over five weeks. To Dean's big surprise, John Winchester completely agreed with Dean, while Pastor Jim however were against it.
"Sam's an adult, he deserves to know what really happened to him."
Both Dean and John snorted loudly at this. Sure, Sam had his rights as an adult, but right now Dean thought keeping the truth from Sammy would be best for everyone. It had actually been much more easier than he thought. Already the next morning, Pastor Jim had someone remove Sam's tombstone from the cemetery and John had all Death Certificates erased. You might think that be impossible, but John Winchester was a pro, while Dean spent most his time helping Sam recover.
"Dean, I don't need a babysitter!" that was the constant thing Dean kept hearing from Sam day in day out. Okay, so Dean had a knack of following Sam around a lot, but who could blame him? Dean just wanted to make sure that his little brother stayed alive.
The whole Sam-coming-back-from-the-dead had been hard on everyone, and Dean was still dealing. He truly thought that when his brother was back with him again, the dreams would stop, however they just got worse. Dean's restless nights, however, just kept on comin'. One night, Dean had awaken from a nightmare, thinking that Sam was dead again. When he realized that Sam was in fact sleeping peacefully in his bedroom, Dean had gone straight out in the church yard, grabbed a pick, and basically started to assault his car. Dean had gotten used to his sudden outburst which could surface now and then, even though Dean tried to convince himself that Sam was alive and alright.
After Sam had been back for three weeks, things slowly started to go back to normal, if normal was ever going to be something for the Winchesters. But Sam had been merely shocked when Dean had revealed to him that he had got a job in the city.
"You got a job?" asked Sam, both confused and stunned.
Dean grabbed the newspaper lying on the counter and grinned at his brother. "Don't be so shocked, little brother. I'm not all that thick-headed, you know."
"I never said you were, Dean. It's just... why did you get a job?"
"What? It could always be good to have a job. Besides, I could need some cash."
"You don't work for cash, Dean," Sam informed him. "You hustle and play poker on pubs. And I don't get why you started to working anyway. I'm fully recovered now, shouldn't we hit the road again?" Sam poured some milk over his cereals, not seeing the look his older brother gave him.
"Sammy, you nearly died. Like for real this time," said Dean quietly, and Sam looked up at him.
"So? Remember when we dealt with the Reaper, you nearly died then. And after the car crash, you were in a coma. You nearly died then too," Dean looked away. "We never stopped hunting then."
"I know, I know," said Dean softly. "I think we should just take a small break, that's all."
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Sam wasn't hard to convince when it came to taking a break from hunting, his father however was a little harder to convince. "Taking a break?" came the stunned and shocked reply from John that night, giving his older son a-out-of-the-question look.
"Dad, Sam was dead, alright? Dead for real, he was in a fucking coffin for five weeks, Dad, five weeks!" yelled Dean angrily that night, as father and son was discussing in Jim's office. "He's not ready to get back on the field, neither am I."
John merely just shook his head and gave his soon a stern and commaning look. "Dean, the Demon-"
"I don't care about the damn demon!" growled Dean menacingly. "This is Sammy we're talking about Dad. I'm not going to put him back in the middle of the hunting after this. Not yet."
John stopped cleaning his rifle and looked his son straight in the eye. "You're serious about this, aren't you?"
"Look, Dad," said Dean in a softer and more respectful tone, as he sat down. "He could die. If we start hunting again, Sam could die." John opened his mouth to speak, but Dean wouldn't let him. "I know, there's always risks. But I can't lose him again, not like that. I won't," Dean could feel the hot tears burning underneath his eyelock but he refused to let them fall. "If he dies again... I'll die with him."
Dean rose from the chair, his heart pounding and his head aching. "You do as you want Dad." Dean turned away from him and walked over to the door. "But for now, Sammy and I are done." Dean opened the door and left, leaving his father stunned behind him.
Dean walked down the empty hallway towards the guest room, lost in thought. He poked his head into the chapel to say goodnight to Jim and then turned his attention to Sam's room. Dean knocked softly on the door, and opened the door. Sam was sitting on the bed, reading from a book while rubbing his temples furiously.
"Hey, you okay?" asked Dean worriedly, and made his way across the room and over to Sam.
"Yeah," said Sam and stopped rubbing his temples, blinking few times. "Just a headache. Nothing serious." Sam got up, walked into the bathroom and disappeared out of Dean's sight.
"Do you want me to get Pastor Jim?" asked Dean anxiously, praying that it wasn't something serious.
"No," came the reply through the door. "No, I'm good. Just give me a second."
Dean sighed deeply and sat down on the bed and eyed Sam's room. It usually looked like it used to when Sam stayed here, books everywhere. Dean smiled at the memories from the place, and how often he used to call Sam geek. "Geek," muttered Dean fondly. A flushing sound could be heard and Sam walked out of the room, looking slightly pale.
"Did you say something?" asked Sam, with raised eyebrows.
"Yeah," Dean picked up The Picture of Dorian Gray and turned the front cover towards his brother. "I said geek."
Sam snorted.
"Dude, it's like a 18th century book," said Dean in disgust and flipped through the sides of the book.
Sam leaned over and snapped it from Dean's hands. "It was published in 1890, which is the 19th century, dude."
"That's exactly what I'm saying, geek all the way," pointed Dean out. "Besides, I can't believe you're reading creepy books like that."
Sam rolled his eyes. "Creepy is a little overreaction, it's just... classic. Just like your music." Dean raised his eyebrows. Sam frowned. "Wait a second, who did you know this book was creepy?" Dean opened his mouth and closed it. He did it a few more times which made him resemble a fish.
"You've read it," hissed Sam.
"Have not!" cried Dean offended.
"You so have."
"No."
"Dean."
"No."
"Just admit it, dude."
"Okay, fine. I surrender," Dean threw his hands in the hair dramatically and rolled his eyes. "9th grade, our English teacher forced us to choose a book that a dead guy had written. I got Oscar Wilde."
Sam cracked a smile.
"Dude, it's not funny," said Dean, offended. "Do you have any idea how much I struggled with that friggin' book? It was a nightmare for me." Sam grinned widely. "Stop laughing, that book was more of a pain-in-the-ass than any demon or spirit we've ever faced. Including that voodoo chick in Maine."
"Ah, you mean the voodoo chick who you slept with and then got some strange demonic chlamydia?" asked Sam, and started to laugh loudly.
"I swear to God, Sammy, you don't stop laughing I'm going to be forced to hurt you," threatened Dean in a clearly playfully tone.
"Is that a threat?"
"You bet your ass it is."
"You know you can borrow it again if you want," said Sam and give his big brother a teaseful smile.
"Ask me again one day, when hell is freezing over and humans starts developing wings."
Sam threw the book at the desk and layed down on the bed, his face facing the ceiling. Dean did the same, and grinned at the lamp in the ceiling as he let his head fall down on the soft and vanilia-smelling mattress. "What?" asked Sam and smiled.
"Nothing," Dean turned his head to look his brother in the eye. "I'm just glad you're okay again."
Sam nodded. "Yeah, me too," he said quietly.
"So, I'm going into town tomorrow with the Impala, need some repairing."
Sam narrowed his eyes, and frowned. "What for? I didn't know the car needed to be repaired?"
"Yeah, let's say she had a little accident," Dean looked away, it was strange. Dean felt more and more uncomfortable to lie to his brother about the whole thing. But it was for the best.
"I don't get it, why don't you just fix it up yourself?" asked Sam.
"Because, Sammy, my baby needs the royal treatment," said Dean proudly.
Sam snorted again. The brothers layed on the bed in silent for a few moments before Dean cleared his throat and stood up. "Well Sammy boy, I am going to bed now, so would you pless keep the volume down."
Sam smiled. "I'll try."
"Uh-huh, and don't forget your pills," reminded Dean, going into protective-mode. Dean wasn't the only one who had noticed Sam's frequent headaches, and Jim had insisted that it wasn't normal. However, Dean took the matter in his own hands and got Sam a description from the hospital. Dean opened the door, but turned to his brother before leaving.
"Oh, and one more thing, little brother," said Dean. "It wasn't chlamydia."
--
Dean woke up early the following morning. He was glad that at least this night, a nightmare hadn't kept him from sleep. He poked his head into Sam's room out of habit, and was relieved when he saw Sam peacefully sleeping. Dean made his way to the kitchen and grabbed a cup of coffee before driving his beaten-up Impala to the car workshop downtown. Dean jumped out of the car and walked over to a mechanic that was busy yelling at a client.
"Ahem," Dean cleared his throat to get the angry mechanic's attention. "Excuse me?"
The mechanic turned to Dean. "Just a sec, pal." And then he turned to the client. "I don't give a damn if it'll take the house, you will pay me buddy." Dean raised his eyebrows and turned his back on them and waited till the client had left. The mechanic turned to him. "Right sorry about that, I'm Denny."
"Denny, right," said Dean. "I called you the other night, about my car."
"Aah," Denny walked past Dean and eyed the Impala with big eyes. "Right you're the Impala man."
"Yep, that's me," said Dean with a forced smile.
"She's beautiful, a '67, right?" Dean nodded. "Very handsome. These are some really hardass marks. Who did this to her?"
"Let's just say I had a little accident," said Dean casually. "So, can you fix her up or not?"
Denny stroke a hand over his beard and looked like he was in deep thought. Dean raised his eyebrows expectably. Denny nodded slowly. "Oh, yeah, I can patch the little lady up, however, it's going to cost you, one grand."
Dean's jaw dropped. "One grand? What are you kidding me? I can buy a new car for that. Besides, Caleb specially recommended you, he said you were a good guy."
Denny hunched over to look at the marks on the side of the car and grinned. "Oh, I am a good guy. Caleb however, bless his spirit, is an idiot."
Dean shook his head and sighed. This was gonna be a long day.
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"I'm restless," complained Sam and rubbed his temples. He blinked a few times, trying to shake of the throbbing in his head. It was weird, he had taken the pills and still the headache just seemed to grow worse.
Jim looked up. Jim and Sam were sitting in Jim's office, organizing in book. "Still having headaches?"
"More like migraines," said Sam and inhaled sharply. "The medication isn't really working." Sam closed his eyes and opened them and threw a glance at Jim. "Though, it's nothing serious, right? I mean, side-effect from the poltergeist-attack?"
Sam couldn't help to feel worried when he saw Jim's expression. "No, Samuel. I'm sure it's nothing serious."
"I need to hunt," said Sam suddenly. Jim raised his eyebrows. "No, I'm serious. I mean, Dad's gone hunting, Dean's got a job and I'm stuck here."
"Am I boring you, Samuel?" asked Jim with a grin.
Sam grinned sheepishly. "No, Pastor Jim, it's not that. It's just... after being on the road for over a year and then all the suddenly we stop... it feels, I dunno, weird."
"Samuel, you're babbling," said Jim and stood up. "I'm going to get us some coffee, that usually stops your babbling, right? Or tones it down a bit," Sam smiled and Jim left the room. Sam sighed and looked around the room, feeling tired of sorting in different kinds of bibles.
Sam stood up and walked over towards the bookshelf, before he knew it, a hot-white sharp pain sliced its way into his head. He doubled over, gasping in pain as the familiar scensation of a vision crept its way into him. And then he was pulled into the vision.
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Yeah, another cliffhanger! Hey, I like them like that xD Anyway, hope you like the chapter and you know the drill, review please! I'm sorry if you guys noticed any extreme spelling mistakes, but I'm very tired tonight. There might be a possibility that I can post another chapter before school starts, but I can't promise anything! See ya!