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ETERNAL
Chapter 11
"God damn it." Dean cursed, searching yet another corridor. He couldn't believe he'd lost her, she had been standing right beside him, hell, he'd even had his arm around her and yet she was still gone. And, worse of all, was that he had felt the painting again, knew he had taken more from Kerri.
He was supposed to keep her safe, supposed to watch out for her, he had promised. Ever since he had found her in the forest nearly eighteen years before, ever since the watcher had taken her away right before his eyes, he had sworn that it would never happen again.
But then he had left, followed his family to the doorsteps of hell, and left his friend, and his promise, behind. Her family had been killed by the Yellow Eyed Demon, her sister ripped from her arms as the demon laughed. And then Dean had returned, stumbled back into her life after a hunt gone very wrong, and he had almost gotten her killed in an abandoned mine. And now, now he had lost her, possibly forever.
And Sam, that bastard had done something to Sam as well. They were both gone, the two people he had told himself that he would always keep safe, the two people that meant more to him than anyone else. His little brother, and his closest friend, both gone while he spoke to them, both vanished in an instant.
And, on top of everything else, on top of losing Sam and Kerri, that damn painting kept reaching out to him, the voices following him down the empty corridors. He tried to ignore it, but it was like his body was on auto-pilot, continually ending up back at the one hall he didn't want to be anywhere near. He knew that Sam wasn't down there, and he knew that being close to it would only hurt Kerri more, but he still couldn't seem to stay away.
His body ached for those green fields, for that late summer breeze. He could almost feel the sun on his face as he wandered through the house, the cold storms raging beyond the decorative windows nothing more than a distant nightmare compared to the peace and safety of Tir-na-nog. He knew he couldn't be there, knew there was no reason to be there, but he also knew that every fiber of his being wanted to be there. The voices lulled his mind to sleep like a gentle wind, the weight of the world falling away as he listened to the soft harmonies. It was so beautiful, so perfect, so inviting.
"You should just give into it, Dean."
The elder Winchester was broken from his trance, his lungs heaving, as he struggled against the pull of the painting. It took him mere seconds to regain his senses, but, when he did he felt his heart nearly stop again. There, standing before him, a wide and sinister smile growing across his face, was William Bramhurst.
"How do you know who I am?"
"Please, you think you're the first hunter that has tried to stop me?"
"Well, I did till about thirty seconds ago." Dean answered, his strong voice masking the panic that was slowly filling him.
"I have to admit though, using another hunter as bait, that is a new one."
"Well, at least I'm inventive."
William just smiled at the comment, his eyes taking in the hunter before him. "How old are you, Dean?"
"What does that have to do with anything?" Dean asked. This was worse than he had originally thought. Not only did William know he was there, he actually knew who all three of them were. Hell, he and his brother were probably front page news on every hunter handbook.
"Humor me."
"Twenty-nine."
"Really, is that all?"
"I've been hunting longer than most."
"Yes, you have. But not as long as me."
"Oh yeah, and how long has that been?"
"Five hundred years, Winchester. Five hundred years, and I have yet to be caught. I have to say, that doesn't bode well for your little community."
"I guess not." Dean stated, nervous for the first time. Five hundred years! Bramhurst had evaded capture and death for five hundred years. How the hell could that even be possible? Twenty, thirty, hell, maybe even one hundred, but five?
"Yes, that is usually the reaction I get. You see, people like you always come to me, thinking they're the best, that this is just another quick fix, another easy notch on their belts. But, they are always wrong."
"I get why you took Kerri, but why Sam?"
"Well, that's where you're a bit different, Dean. You see, not many hunters hunt in pairs, it seems to be more of a solo thing. But you and your brother, you're legends."
"I'm flattered."
"He has already given into it, Dean, has already let the painting feed him. Why are you still fighting?"
"Sam would never do that. He wouldn't hurt her."
"Wouldn't he? You've felt it, you've seen it, how could anyone resist."
"He could. I can. She doesn't deserve to die."
"You mean, she doesn't deserve to suffer because of your mistakes."
"I will not let you kill her."
"What's done is done, Dean. You've seen her, I have no doubt that you and your brother have figured out how the painting works. She's already gone. But you can have a part of her soul, have a piece of her before she is gone."
"You sick bastard." Dean growled, advancing on Bramhurst. He didn't care about the FBI, didn't care about drawing suspicion, didn't care about anything other than killing the arrogant man that stood before him. But he stopped the instant he saw the man's smile grow.
"You can't kill me."
"Oh yeah, why not?"
"Because I am the only one that knows where Kerri is."
"You just said she was beyond help."
"I guess I did. There is always, Sam though."
"What have you done with him?"
"I told him once that I didn't like people roaming my house alone. He should have listened."
"Where. Is. He?"
"If you're as good as everyone says you are, then you should be able to find him yourself."
"Believe me, I am and I will." Dean's voice was flat and deadly, his green eyes on fire. But that still didn't seem to phase the millionaire one bit. He just looked Dean up and down once more, his smile growing ever wider as the lights flickered and went out. The darkness lasted no more than a minute, but when the light returned, Dean found himself alone in the corridor.
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Kerri's head felt like it was going to explode, her eyelids so heavy that she wasn't sure she'd be able to open them. It was an all encompassing fatigue that had taken over her body and she wasn't sure how much longer she would be able to fight it. Someone had fed from the painting again, of that she was certain, but there was an entirely new sensation floating over her, and she didn't quite know how to take it. The last thing she had remembered was walking down the hall with Dean, but now, well now she was definitely laying down.
"Dean?" She called out weakly, finally forcing her eyes open. But, what she saw only made her fears grow. This wasn't the room she had been in before, and Dean was nowhere to be found.
"Dean?" She called again into the large room, pushing herself up against the silken pillows. "What the hell." She whispered, looking down at herself. For the past several hours she had been wearing a black dress, but now, well now she was wearing red silk pajamas, and she had no clue where they had come from.
But she was too tired to think about it, her aching body sinking back down into the warmth of the blankets. She knew she had to get out of there, knew she had to find Dean and Sam, but she just couldn't keep her eyes open, couldn't fight the overwhelming desire to sleep. Her heart almost stopped when she felt the bed dip, a strong hand brushing her bangs from her face. She forced her eyes open, trying in vein to back away when she saw who was sitting beside her. But he just smiled, pulling her back by the elbows.
"Here." He began, pulling her up to sit. "Drink this."
"What is it?" She began, her voice shaking, as she tried again to break out of his hold.
"Tea. Just drink it, it will make you feel better."
"Why would I trust you?"
"I'm sure you have done your research, Kerri. Some of the girls had been with me for years, this has only been happening to you for a few hours. Drink."
"No."
"One way or another, you will drink this."
"Why, so I can feel nice and healthy while I die?"
"I'm not the one you should be blaming for this. And besides, this will help you stay stronger."
"How, by making me a permanent part of the painting?"
"That has already happened. You are not getting out of this house alive. It just depends on you as to how long you choose to live."
Kerri studied the man for a moment before reluctantly taking the drink. She could feel herself drifting away, could feel her life draining from her as each moment passed. Bramhurst was right, at the moment there was no way she was going to get out of that house alive, but maybe if she could buy some time, then Dean would have a chance to figure something out.
Bramhurst helped lay Kerri back against the pillows, the empty mug now resting on the bedside table. He was right, no matter how much she didn't want to admit it, she was feeling a lot better, though still very, very tired. She couldn't help it when her eyes slid shut again, couldn't help it when the darkness over took her, her body falling back into the bed as sleep claimed her.
It was a little over an hour later when her blue eyes fluttered open once more, her mind clearer than it had been in hours. She looked around the room, the events of the night falling back into place with a frightening pace. She and Dean had been out looking for Sam, and then, the next thing she knew she was in Bramhurst's room, in pajamas. But now, at least, she was no longer tired. And, though she knew that she was still in very bad shape, she couldn't help but be grateful for small favors.
She slowly pushed herself out of the bed, her bare-feet hitting the cold floor beneath her. But she didn't have time to dwell on that, didn't have time to think about anything other than finding the brothers, and fast. She didn't know how long she had been out of it, didn't know what had happened to Sam, or what Bramhurst may have done to Dean. At that moment, the only thing she knew was that no one was feeding off the painting, and even that she was second guessing. She felt completely normal, and she had no idea what that tea had actually done to her, or taken from her.
But that was something she could worry about later, something she could let Dean yell at her for later. That is, if she was able to find him. She quickly pushed that thought from her mind as she ventured out into the hall, her keen eyes searching every inch of the mansion. She would find both Dean and Sam in one piece, she had to believe that. She had lost too much to this fight already, had had too much taken from her, and she wasn't about to loss someone else. No, she would fight for them till her dying breath.
She had no idea which wing of the house she was actually in, having never been told where Bramhurst's room was. She shouldn't really been surprised by that, because really, why would she need to know that in the first place. But apparently, that information suddenly became very important. So, she just made her way around the building as quietly as she could, her ears trained for even the slightest sound. She had no weapons and no backup, but she had been in worse spots before, and she would find a way out of this one.
Kerri had been searching the house for the better part of an hour when her nerves finally started to get the better of her. There was no doubt in her mind that she had chosen the exact wrong path. She hadn't seen or heard a single person in all of her time searching, and she knew that, despite the late hour, many of the guests were still out and about. And so, the only conclusion was that she was going in the wrong direction for help. Her assumption was only strengthened when she began to notice that the decorations were become less spectacular the longer she walked.
She was in an area of the mansion that didn't often see guests, and that only made her heart beat faster. The once bright and richly decorated walls had given way to wood paneling and old carpets, the long corridors lit by only a few widely spaced lights. If she didn't know any better she would have expected Dr. Frankenstein to jump out of the wall and take her to his dungeon.
She smiled to herself, not a hundred percent convinced that that couldn't possibly happen, as she continued on down the halls. She agreed with Dean, her house was ridiculously big for her small family, but her mom had loved it, and her father had finally finished the renovations shortly after her death. So really, she had a reason for living there all alone, but this house, well this was just ludicrous. Hell, it probably had two different area codes. And who the hell even knew how far away Dean was, or if she would ever find Sam without someone giving her directions.
But, just as she finished the though, just as she turned the next dark corner, she found what she had been looking for. There, laying against the wall, his back to her, was Sam's still form.
"Oh please, no." Kerri whispered, running to his side. She let out a long, shaky breath when she saw that he was breathing, her earlier fears instantly washed away. She quickly checked for injuries, her hand coming back bloody after running it through his hair. But, the gash that had been it's source was already beginning to heal.
The younger man moaned softly as she continued to go over him, his eyes fluttering as she laid his head in her lap.
"Have a nice nap?"
"Oh yeah, super." Sam mumbled sitting up, leaning against Kerri as a wave of dizziness hit him.
"Do you remember what happened?"
"I was on the phone with Dean, and then, well I woke up here. Wait, where is Dean?" Sam suddenly looked around.
Kerri knew exactly what the younger Winchester was thinking. There was no way Dean would willingly let her out of his sight, not with everything that had happened. But then, well, this wasn't really willingly. The last thing she remembered was having the life literally sucked out of her, and then she awoke, alone, in Bramhurst's room. And she just hoped that where ever Dean was, he was ok.
"I don't exactly know."
"What do you mean, you don't know?"
"We were out looking for you, and then I got really dizzy and when I woke up I was alone."
"He wouldn't just leave you there."
"Well, I didn't exactly wake up in the same place I fell asleep in." She added, helping the much taller man to his feet.
"What's the supposed to mean? Where'd you wake up."
"Bramhurst's room."
"What!" Sam asked, turning brown eyes on her, finally taking in her altered appearance. "What'd he do?"
"Nothing."
"So what, you woke up, had a chat and then left? Come on, Kerri, that's weak."
"Yeah well, it's the best you're gonna get."
"Kerri?"
"Look, I don't know what happened, Sam. I woke up, in pajamas, might I add, and he gave me some kind of tea."
"Tea?"
"At least that's what he said it was."
"And you drank it!"
"He said it would make me better."
"Oh yeah, that makes it a good decision."
"Look, Sam, I was dying, I could feel it."
"But the other girls were with him for months, sometimes years."
"And he said that it was because of this tea."
"But, you have no idea what it did to you."
"I know, but I know what would have happened if I didn't. Sam, if I didn't drink it I would've been dead by the morning. At least, this way, you guys have some time." Kerri admitted, her voice faltering.
She knew that time was running out, she could feel it in her bones, and she was going to do whatever she could to stop it. It wasn't that she was afraid of dying, that was something she had faced before. No, she wanted to hold on, wanted to do whatever she could, because she knew what would happen to Dean if she didn't. She wasn't blind, she knew that he blamed himself for things that were far beyond his control, and she knew that he would never forgive himself if she got hurt. And that was a burden she didn't want to lay upon his already weighted shoulders. Dean had enough to worry about, had more troubles than ten men combined, and there was no way that she was ever going to make that worse.
"Kerri."
"Don't worry, Sam. I trust you guys."
"What's Dean gonna say when he finds out what you did?"
"What he doesn't know won't hurt him. We fix this, get rid of whatever kind of hold that painting has on me, and then we go home. End of story."
"You know, sometimes you and Dean sound so much alike it's scary."
"You're telling me. I'm the one that just got compared to your brother."
"Alright. So, do you have any idea which way to go?"
"I would have to say the opposite of the way I have been going for the past thirty minutes. Do you still have you're phone?"
"No." Sam answered, dejected, searching his pockets a second time just to make sure he didn't miss it.
"Then I guess we find what we can find."
"How're you feeling?" Sam began as they walked, his arm wrapped protectively around her slim shoulders.
"Fine, actually."
"Can you still feel the painting?"
"No. But that might just be because no one is feeding off it."
"Or maybe they are and you just can't tell."
"That's a possibility."
"Did he mention, you know--?"
"How much time I have?"
"Yeah."
"From what I gathered, none."
"What?"
"Can we just take this one step at a time, Sam? Let's just find Dean and then go from there." Kerri could feel his arm tighten around her, and all she wanted to do was lean into him, to let him try and make everything better. But this was reality, and she knew that that would accomplish nothing other than making him a nervous wreck. She had to believe that she would get out of this all in one piece, and, if she didn't, she knew she couldn't let Sam and Dean blame themselves.
So, she just stood up a little straighter as she walked, taking comfort in Sam's touch, knowing that, in a few short hours, it may be something she would never get to feel again.