well, i felt kind of bad for leaving that last chapter with that nasty cliffhanger (i just couldnt help myself) so i decided to get this chapter up a little quicker. thank you all so much for the great reviews, they were all awesome. there's just one more chapter to go after this one. :) enjoy.
ETERNAL
Chapter 16
Dean laid on his side, his very skin burning, head feeling as though it would break in two. He curled into a ball, trying with all his might to ignore the overwhelming pain that had woven its way into every fiber of his being. He had to get past it, had to get to Kerri. She couldn't be dead, he wouldn't allow it, not now and not ever. She was his closest friend besides his brother, the person he had turned to for so many years, the girl he had never once forgotten. She couldn't be gone, not now, not after finally finding her again after twelve of the longest years of his life. No, she would be fine, she had to be, she'd be alright if he could just make it to her side.
He pulled his aching, burning body across the cold floor, voices mixing around in his shattered and fraying mind. But all he cared about, all he could focus on was Kerri. But the pain was too much, his eyes watering as he pressed his forehead down against the marble floor. It felt like his very soul was being ripped from his body, being torn into agonizing shreds. Then, almost as soon as it had begun, the pain lessened, his spinning mind finally slowing as he laid still and silent on the floor. And then, just as he pushed his heavy eyes open, intent of resuming his crawl towards Kerri, he heard William begin to scream.
66666666666
Sam fell to the floor when the gunshot rang out, covering his head as he took cover. It took the younger Winchester several seconds to realize he hadn't been hit. He was so certain Chetling was going to shoot both he and his brother, sure that they had fallen into a trap set for them before they had even stepped through the door. But then, the bullet was fired, and it had been aimed at the last person Sam ever expected.
He watched, horror struck as the bullet hit Kerri, her eyes wide and searching, body falling back in what seemed like slow motion. And, the very moment she hit the canvas, her blood mixing with the paint, Dean cried out in pain, falling to the ground as though he himself had been shot. And then, Sam watched in near terror as Dean began to tremble, curling in on himself, trying to get away from the pain, all while pulling himself towards Kerri, who, to Sam's horror, had yet to move.
She was laying still as death beneath the paining, her head against the floor, arm blocking her face from view, a swath of blood tracing her route to the ground. Sam felt like he'd be sick, the girl he'd known since he was a toddler, the girl he'd somehow forgotten, now beyond his reach. It wasn't right, and it wasn't fair, and, like so many things in the young man's life, it made no sense at all. She was sick, already dying, why the hell shoot her?
But, what was even worse, what made the entire scene even more heartbreaking, was Dean. His big brother was still in pain, his tall body curled up into itself, shivering and shaking with both pain and loss. But, despite all that, he was still pulling himself across the floor, still reaching out towards Kerri's still form. And Sam knew that seeing her like that was killing him. He had promised to keep her safe, promised to be there when the darkness came, but life and fate had gotten in his way. He wasn't there when the Demon took Evelyn, wasn't there when Tom burned alive, refusing to leave his youngest daughter's body behind. He wasn't there to help her face the fallout of their lives, wasn't there to keep his promise, and now he couldn't even save her when she was standing mere feet away.
Then, just as he was sure his heart was broken beyond repair, sure that they had lost more than they ever thought, the pained tension in Dean's body began to release, just as William fell to the ground with a scream of pure agony. And Sam was on his feet in an instant, moving to Dean's side, the once handsome millionaire lying on the floor a few feet away, writhing in pain, his skin turing dry and ashen, hair going grey and thin, age finally catching up with him.
"Bruce! What have you done?" Bramhurst yelled through his pain, his body aging faster than Sam could believe.
"What I've been planning to do for over five years now." The hunter smiled wickedly, seemingly unaware of both Dean and Kerri.
Sam couldn't believe how casual he was, couldn't believe he was just standing there, smiling as William Bramhurst slowly dissolved into nothing more than a pile of dust, his screams echoing eerily through the corridor even after he'd left this world. And, all the while, Bruce Chetling just watched, looking almost bored, and having absolutely no remorse for the twenty nine year old girl he had just shot.
"Dean?" Sam began, kneeling beside the older man, shaking his shoulders gently. His brother was laying face down on the floor, body still shaking violently.
In all the talk about destroying the painting, Sam never once considered the effect it would have on Dean. After all, he'd been feeding from it too, whether he liked it or not. But they had been so focused on saving Kerri, so focused on getting out of their ever growing mess, that the fact just slipped all their minds. That is, until Dean fell to the floor, twisted in both pain and grief.
"Dean? Answer me."
"Sammy?" Dean sighed, and the breath caught in Sam's throat when he heard the utter heartbreak in his brother's voice.
"Yeah, Dean, I'm here." He answered softly, rubbing Dean's shoulder, trying in vein to calm the still shaken man.
"Kerri."
It was spoken like a statement, a plea. He wasn't asking Sam if she was alright, he was asking him to go to her first, asking him to check to see if it actually was Kerri, and not something else. The younger Winchester knew every thought that was racing through his brother's mind, every scenario playing out. Maybe it was a doppleganger, maybe it was someone pretending to be Kerri, or perhaps it was all some weird illusion cast by the painting. Anything other than the truth, anything to steer his mind away from the fact that his best friend, his life for so many years was laying on the floor, gone.
Sam squeezed Dean's shoulder before moving over to Kerri, the older man's face still pressed to the floor, body shaking. Sam took a deep breath, glancing mournfully back towards his brother before kneeling beside, Kerri, pulling back her long hair, his fingers sliding along her cool neck.
"Oh my god." Sam nearly yelled, repositioning his hand, unable to believe what he'd felt. But once again, he felt it, weak and slow but there, beating in his mind like a drum. Kerri had a pulse, she was still alive.
"Kerri." Sam began, gently rolling her too her back, Dean moving to his side. "Hey, Kerri, can you hear me?" Sam ran his hand over her face as he laid her head in his lap. Yes, she was alive, but she was hurt, bad.
Sam couldn't help the gasp that escaped him when he finally got a good look at her wound. The bullet had gone clean through her right shoulder, just below her collar bone. Dean quickly pulled off his outer shirt, pressing it against the wound, trying to stop the blood that was flowing far too quickly from her body.
Sam could feel her stir in his arms as Dean continued to apply the pressure, her brow furrowing, left arm weakly pushing at Dean's hands, trying to get the pain to leave her, her eyes fluttering with the strain.
"Come on, Kerri, wake up." Sam continued, his voice soft and soothing, Dean still tending to her wound. "We gotta get her out of here, Dean."
"I'm sorry, boys." Chetling began, examining the remains of the millionaire. "But the roads are washed out."
"Do I look like I give a damn?" Dean began, his voice nothing more than a menacing growl, eyes boring into the man. But Chetling gave him barely a glance before continuing, his voice casual and bored.
"This place is remote, it's the reason Bramhurst chose it. When the storms wash out the roads, they are completely impassable."
"Says you."
"Look, I'm sorry for your loss, alright, but there's nothing that can be done. Like I said before, there's casualties to every war."
"You arrogant son of a bitch!" Dean yelled, throwing himself at Chetling, his actions so fast and abrupt that it took the older hunter completely by surprise. "Why'd you have to shoot her you fucking jack ass." Dean shouted, punching the man with all the strength he had, every strike backed with a flood of emotions.
Chetling managed to block Dean's third punch, grabbing the older Winchester by the forearms, using Dean's own momentum to flip him forward, pinning him to the ground. "You don't understand."
"Screw you."
"It was the only way to kill William, the only way to end it all."
"She was sick, you bastard." Dean snarled, finally breaking free of the man's grip, sending him flying back with a well placed kick to the gut.
"Her blood had to be in the painting. She was apart of it and her actual blood was the only way to break it."
"You could have told us that, cut her hand or something. But no." Dean began, advancing on the man again. "You had to freaking shoot her."
"We're not talking about a drop of blood here, Winchester. Her soul was part of the painting, her blood was the only thing that could break that bond." Chetling stated, diving towards one of the forgotten guns just as Dean made a move towards it too.
Sam held his breath, pulling Kerri further into his arms, as his brother and Chetling wrestled for the firearm. His heart beat faster and faster as the seconds passed, his brother fighting with the fury of a man possessed. But Chetling was good, better than Sam would have ever expected, and he managed to dodge many of Dean's advances, sending his brother to the ground more than once with a well placed hit. He could feel Kerri struggling in his arms, trying in vein to push the rag away from her wound, her breath coming out in short, shallow gasps.
Bramhurst was gone, dead and dust like he should have been centuries before, but they were far from safe. Bruce and Dean were still struggling for the gun, the other two pistols too far for any of them to reach, and Kerri was slipping away, her soul fading as blood pooled beneath her. And the worst part was that, even if Dean managed to get the gun, the roads around the mansion could still be impassable, and Sam was afraid that he and his brother would still be forced to watch Kerri die right before their eyes.
Sam's head snapped up when he heard Dean grunt. His brother was laying on his back, arms wrapped tightly around his stomach, Chetling standing above him, gun trained on the downed hunter.
"She was as good as dead the minute she walked in that door. At least this way, her death can mean something."
"You're sick."
"No, Dean, I'm a hunter." He spoke confidently, moving around Dean and over towards the painting, his sharp eyes never leaving either brother.
Sam slide back into the wall, pulling Kerri even closer, shielding her with his large body. He didn't know what this freak had in mind, but he wasn't going to get any closer to Kerri.
"You'd rather she suffered?" Bruce began, pointing the gun towards both Kerri and Sam.
Sam's eyes drifted between Chetling and Dean, his brother's eyes narrowed, body tense. If looks could kill, Bruce Chetling would be nothing but a pile of skin and bones.
"Stay away from them." Dean growled, inching closer.
"She's in pain, an injury like that will take a while to bleed out. I'm doing what's right, what's humane."
"Bull shit. Now stay away from her."
"It can be over in mere seconds." He began softly, speaking directly at Kerri.
Sam looked down instantly, surprised to see Kerri's blue eyes blinking back at him, glassy and unfocused, but open.
She didn't say anything though, just leaned further into Sam, her weak arms wrapping around him, holding on for dear life. Sam instinctively tightened his grip when he felt her tremble, Dean's eyes burning into them as Chetling continued to aim the gun right at he and Kerri.
"Fine." The wayward hunter stated after a long silence, his tense grip on the gun never once loosening. "But, like I said, the roads are gone, you won't be able to make it through."
"Well, we won't know that for certain unless we try." Dean stated dryly, the lightning crashing again. And, faster than any of them could even blink, Chetling was gone.
"What the hell?" Dean breathed pushing himself to his feet. "This whole freaking house is like being stuck in a bad horror flick." He began, forcing a smile that didn't reach his eyes as he knelt in front of Sam and Kerri.
"You still with us?"
"I sure hope so, because if this is heaven then I want my money back." Kerri tried to joke, her voice so low and strained that both brothers had to lean in to hear her.
"Nope, you're still on good old planet earth."
"That's good." Kerri breathed, her eyes sliding closed once more.
"Hey, Ker, keep your eyes open."
"I'm tired."
"I know you are, but I need you to stay awake."
"Why?"
"Because I'm a glutton for punishment."
"I heard what he said, Dean. I know the roads are out."
"Yeah well, he was lying." Dean snapped, rising to his feet before helping Sam stand, Kerri still held tightly in his arms.
"Dean."
"Just, stop. You're not dead yet so quite talking like you are."
"I was just gonna ask you who was driving my car, because we're not leaving it here." Kerri smiled weakly, her half closed eyes focused on Dean.
"We'll get your car later."
"No way."
"This isn't something I'm gonna argue about right now."
"Then we're taking my car and leaving yours here."
"Like hell we are."
"Then we're gonna argue about it."
"Um, guys. Don't you think we should figure out how to get out before we fight over the cars. Besides, Kerri, we don't even know where yours is parked."
"Traitor."
"I was thinking we'd just walk out the front door." Dean shrugged, leading the way back to their room. "I mean, Bramhurst's gone."
"Yeah, but Chetling is still around here somewhere."
"So?"
"So, you think he's just gonna let us walk out of here?"
"Why not?"
"He tried to kill Kerri, Dean."
"Hey, I'm not agreeing with the guy, but he got his job done. He's wacked out, Sam, but all he was doing was hunting. Besides, why get his hands dirty when the storms could just do us in?"
"You're filling me with confidence, Dean." Kerri mumbled, the pain from her arm obviously overwhelming her.
"Let's just get to the cars and we'll figure it out from there."
They walked the rest of the way to their room in silence, all three too lost in thought to speak. The link was severed, and even though the painting was still hanging, completely intact on the wall, Sam was sure that for now, the killing was over. William said that it took certain souls to unlock the painting's dark powers, and that, without that key, Tir-na-nog was nothing more than a piece of art.
In all honesty, he was still trying to figure out why the painting worked between Dean and Kerri. William he understood. Once his wife was taken, he was open to any woman with similar attributes. He and his wife had had the link, had been able to unleash the power of the ancient magic. But Dean and Kerri, that Sam just didn't understand.
Yes, they were incredibly close, the closest friends he had really ever seen, but they had been separated for so long, lived such different lives, that there really shouldn't have been anything between them anymore. But then, like Bramhurst said, Tir-na-nog could see beyond black and while, love and hate, could see past the limits of the human mind. And apparently, there was something there that none of them understood.