Dean parked the Impala two doors down from the motel room he and Sam shared, stewing in his dark emotions. He knew he had to be strong for Sam's sake, but as he sat alone in his car, he felt the guilt and anger build until it seemed to take away the very air he was breathing.
Nearly two decades had past since he'd almost lost Sammy to the shtriga. Dean's focus had shifted on that day, the phrase, "Watch over your brother," had become more than mere words, it was a promise...a vow. He'd sworn on that day that nothing will ever harm his little brother again. Protecting Sam was the number one priority, just a smidge below breathing. No matter what the cost, Sam would remain safe.
He'd just never imagined the cost would be this high.
Dean was drowning in a sea of, "If only". If only he'd done a bit more research, if only he'd listened to Hannah's warnings, if only he'd trusted Sam's intuition, if only he hadn't chalked Jenna's scare up to a mere dream, if only he'd left Sam at the motel and gone to check up on the little girl. Dean had a wicked set of blinders when it came to Sam. Although Sam's injuries had been far from life threatening, Dean's only focus had been to watch over and take care of his little brother. Perhaps...if only...he'd allowed the hunter in him to take the forefront, instead of the overprotective big brother, Jenna might still be alive.
Dean finally forced himself out of the car and walked up to the motel room, a bag of fast food clutched in his left hand. Any other time he would have devoured the contents in mere seconds, but even the delectable aroma of charbroiled burgers and greasy french fries couldn't calm his queasy stomach.
After Sam had brought Dean up to speed, Dean had used all of his negotiating skills to keep him from bursting back into the Donovan house. The irony of their continued role reversal had not been lost on the older man as he'd tried to reason with his brother. It had taken a while, but Dean had been able to calm Sam down and focus him on the facts. The creatures seemed to pose no immediate threat. In fact, judging from the childlike demeanor Sam had described, Dean was willing to bet that despite their appearance, they really were children of some sort. Although he would've liked nothing more than to go back in there, guns blazing, they first had to figure out just what the hell they were dealing with.
Dean had dropped Sam off at the motel to begin researching the odd creatures and had gone on a quick fast food run, as much to clear his own head as to grab some grub. Now, standing in front of the slightly ajar motel door, he could practically feel the anxious energy pouring out from the room. Dean's own nervousness seemed to feed on Sam's, but he pushed it away. He couldn't change the past, couldn't undo the horrific events that had taken place. Dean pushed open the door and zeroed in on the one thing he could fix.
"Hey, Sam."
Sam sat up against the headboard, books covering every surface of the bed. His right hand hovered over the laptop while his left cradled his cell phone. Sam looked up as Dean came in, and eased the laptop onto the bed.
"Yeah. Yeah, thanks, Caleb. Dean's back, I gotta go. Ok. Ok, thanks." Sam tossed the phone aside and rubbed his eyes.
Dean moved a few of the books and sat on the edge of the bed. "You called Caleb?"
Sam handed Dean a thick leather bound book. "One more pair of eyes can't hurt. We need to move on this fast before another child is taken."
Dean raised his eyebrows. "Taken?"
Sam pulled the computer back onto his lap and gave Dean an odd look. "Yeah. Taken."
Oh crap. Sam thought the kids were alive.
Dean had spent nearly every day of the last four years yearning to be back in his brother's company, but he'd give anything not to be here for this conversation.
Dean tried to approach the subject gently. "Sam, shape shifters don't kidnap their victims."
"I know that, Dean." Sam answered slowly. "But we're not dealing with a shape shifter. Sure, they were able to alter their appearance to look like the kids, but you saw the picture. I've never seen creatures like that."
Dean shuddered. "They were seriously fugly."
Sam made a small noise of acknowledgment and focused on the computer. Dean sighed, moving so he sat at Sam's hip. He placed his hand on Sam's arm, stilling the younger man's hand as it manipulated the mouse. He didn't speak until Sam brought his hazel eyes up to meet his own.
"Sam…" he broke off as he got his first real look at his baby brother. Sam's defeated eyes were slightly glistening as they locked with Dean's. Sam held the gaze for a few quiet seconds before turning his pale face away. Sam was no dummy; he knew what the chances were of finding Jenna and the other kids alive. Their father would tell them to accept it and move on; to concentrate on those that could be saved instead of those who had fallen. Dean wasn't quite sure that was possible here.
Dean gave Sam's arm a squeeze. "Hey."
Sam turned back around, but kept his head down. Dean leaned forward and ducked his head to meet Sam's gaze.
Dean swallowed past the lump in his throat. He hated to see Sam so beaten. If he could offer hope, however false it may be, then it was his duty as the older brother, as the protector, to do so.
"We'll find her, Sam. I promise you that."
Sam finally looked up. He nodded and flashed Dean an unconvinced smile. Dean gave his arm another powerful squeeze, then grabbed the bag of takeout.
"Here." Dean held out one of the burgers. "I'll take over on the computer while you eat."
Sam took the burger with a shake of his head. "I'll think I'll hold onto the computer." he grabbed the book Dean had set down and handed it back to him. "You work with this."
"You never could share your toys." Dean grumbled, accepting the book and placing it in his lap.
Dean unwrapped his burger and looked at it uneasily, still not quite in the mood for food. But, knowing he had to keep his strength up, he took a small bite.
The juices from the burger were like water from a healing spring, warming his body and reenergizing his soul. His mind went blessedly blank as his tastebuds tapdanced his troubles away. Dean closed his eyes and moaned with pleasure.
"Now that's the stuff!" Dean took a monster-sized bite, not even noticing as large globs of sauce plopped down onto the cover of the book.
Dean wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he chewed. "So, whadda we know?" he said around a mouthful of food.
Sam gaped at Dean, the blinked and shook his head. "Right. Ok. Let's start at the beginning. Fifty years ago, Hannah Eagan kills her son. She claims that it really wasn't her son, that some monster had taken his place and that the only way to get him back was to kill the imposter."
"Which we now know is at least partially true. What she killed was probably the same kind of creature we saw at the Donovan's, although it obviously did nothing to bring Michael back." Dean said before stuffing a handful of fries in his mouth.
"Fifty years later, Hannah's spirit sees the same thing come after Becky Lanigan and convinces Becky's mother that the only way to bring her daughter back is to kill it. Same thing with Stevie." Sam paused and shook his head. "Hannah tried to warn me, and I didn't listen. If only I'd--"
Dean cut him off sternly. "Sammy, stop. It's not going to do any good living in 'if only's'." Feeling a bit like a hypocrite, Dean continued and voiced one of his biggest regrets. "Besides, you're not the only one she tried to warn. She tried the same thing with me, right before I tried to blast her with a round of rocksalt. Maybe if I hadn't been so damn trigger happy, we could've avoided this whole freakin' mess."
Sam blinked slowly at Dean, the initial shock at Dean's admittance was quickly replaced with a look of pity. Sam frowned, empathy oozing out of every pore.
Dean rolled his eyes. Lovely. While sharing some of his doubts had detoured Sam away from his own feelings of guilt, it had also steered them right where Dean had dreaded they'd end up. Chic-Flickland.
Dean held up a hand, cutting Sam off before he even began. "Dude, don't even start. Let's just get back to business."
Sam shot Dean one last woeful glance before returning to the facts. "Right. So, basically, Hannah somehow knew that these creatures were taking the place of the children, and she wrongly believed that by killing them, it would bring the real kids back."
Sam sighed and ran a hand through his thick dark hair. "But why children? What possible motive could these things have in mimicking children?"
"I think the more important question is, how many of them are there?" Dean said grimly. "There was Hannah's son fifty years ago, the Lanigan girl, and now the Donovans bring it up to four. We could be dealing with a whole nest of these things."
The Winchesters fell silent as Dean's words hung in the air. The children of the town were in mortal danger, and the only two people who could save them were at a loss.
Sam went back to the computer, his food forgotten as he searched for answers. Dean, having finally wiped the red and yellow swirls from the cover of the book, began to thumb through the pages with a newfound determination.
Ten minutes later, Sam sat up straight, his eyes widening. "Wait a minute."
"What?" Dean asked.
Sam held up his finger, motioning for Dean to wait. His eyes moved back and forth rapidly as he read through the information on the screen. Dean waited as long as he could, a record-breaking twenty seconds, before lightly smacking Sam's thigh.
"Hey! What've you got?"
Sam raised his hand again, reinforcing the action verbally. "Wait."
Dean rolled his eyes. If Sam wouldn't tell him, he'd see for himself. He scooted back so he was shoulder to shoulder with Sam. Grabbing the screen, he tried to pull the laptop to him.
"Did you find something?" Dean asked as he tugged on the computer.
Sam tugged back, yanking the computer from Dean's hands. "As a matter of fact, I think I did." he said, glaring at Dean.
Sam started to read from the computer when his cell phone rang. Sam and Dean locked eyes. "Caleb."
Dean grabbed the phone and handed it to Sam. "Here. Your phone, you answer it." He grabbed the computer off of Sam's lap and quickly moved to the other bed.
"Dean! I—" Sam broke off with a sigh as a triumphant Dean motioned for him to answer the phone.
"Jerk." Sam mumbled over the ringing.
Dean grinned and mouthed the word, "Bitch." just as Sam answered the phone. He chuckled a few times before his ribs sharply reminded him they weren't quite up to enduring a fit of laughter. Wincing, he wrapped an arm around his middle, and began to read what Sam had pulled up. The article was about the Eagan family, written nearly ten years after Hannah had been killed for murdering her "son".
"Oh my god." Dean breathed as he skimmed the article. The focus of the article was on Hannah's son….her only son, who had been found wandering in the woods, alive and well, ten years after his supposed death. Dean began to read snippets out loud to himself.
"'…Michael Eagan, blah blah blah…found near the north edge of the forest late Wednesday night, uh huh, ummm…. no memory of the past ten years...hasn't aged a day.' Holy crap!" Dean ran a hand through his hair, shocked at what he'd just read. Michael was alive?
Dean flashed back to the crudly made small wooden cross that had served as Hannah Eagan's gravemarker. Beloved Mother...Love Michael. How could they have been so stupid? He looked over at Sam just as he was finishing up his call with Caleb.
"Caleb, man, I owe you big time. Yeah, thanks." Sam hung up and looked excitedly at Dean, his eyes wide as saucers.
"Dude, I know what we're dealing with." "Dude, Hannah's son is really alive!" Both hunters spoke at the same time in their eagerness to fit the remaining puzzle pieces together.
Sam went first, cautiously swinging his legs over the side of the bed to face Dean. "Caleb found out what's been taking the kids. It's a bendith."
"A what?" Dean cocked his head to the side, unfamiliar with the term.
Sam stood up and began a limping gallop around the room, which was as close to pacing as his injured knee would allow. "It's from an old Welsh legend. The bendith were notorious for kidnapping children from their homes and replacing them with their own children, called crimbils."
"So the picture….those were crimbils?" Dean broke in.
Sam nodded.
"And they do this so no one will know the real kids are missing." Dean said, thinking out loud.
"I guess." Sam stopped pacing and leaned a hand on the wooden chair near Dean's bed. He glanced at the notes he'd taken during his conversation with Caleb before continuing. "According to the legend, the bendith take human children to raise as their own. The children are taught music and song while in a trancelike state. Most are never seen again, but the ones that do manage to escape appear not to have aged a day. They have complete amnesia from the moment they were taken until they are found, with only faint memories of sweet music."
Escape! That brought Dean back to what he'd been reading on the laptop. "Hannah Eagan's son! He didn't have a brother after all. The son who claimed her body ten years later really was Michael. A bendith must've kidnapped him and replaced him with the, uh…Kimbel."
"Crimbil." Sam corrected. "When they found him, he still appeared to be ten years old, even though nearly a decade had passed."
Dean read a little more from the article. "'The person claiming to be Michael Eagan could not give any information on what had happened to him. His only recollection was the memory of beautiful music.'"
Dean looked up from the article and grinned. "I think we got it, Sammy!"
Sam grinned back and settled himself into the chair he'd been leaning on. "At least we're only dealing with one of these things, not four like we originally thought. And Caleb didn't seem to think that bendiths are all that dangerous."
"What about it's kids, er, the crimbils?" Dean asked.
Sam's grin faded and was replaced with a troubled frown. Dean jumped in and quickly changed the subject. They could deal with the little monsters later. Right now, their main concern was killing the bendith and getting the kids back safe and sound.
"So, how do I kill this thing? Knife, bullets, rap music? Does savage music kill the beast?" Dean half joked.
"Unfortunately, Caleb wasn't able to find any info on how to kill it. I'm guessing a bullet through the heart or decapitation's our best bet." Sam quirked an eyebrow. "And who says you're killing it?"
"I say I'm killing it. You certainly can't go. Not with that bum leg of yours." Dean gestured to Sam's outstretched right leg.
Sam sat back in the chair and folded his arms across his chest. "What about your cracked ribs?"
Dean ignored Sam's question, instead firing back with one of his own. "Where do these things live?"
Sam licked his lips and shifted uncomfortably. "They're usually are found in caves." Sam paused, looking as if he didn't want to continue. Dean raised his eyebrows at Sam, who rolled his eyes as he finished. "In the woods."
"Yeah, like you're going to be able to trek through the woods on that knee." Dean scoffed. His little brother was stubborn, but even a logical guy like Sam must see the lunacy in that plan. Dean closed the laptop and set it on the bed. He softened his tone, trying to lure the fly with honey instead of vinegar.
"Here's what we'll do. I'll take care of the bendith while you wait in the car." He held up his hand to cut off Sam's argument. "The kids should be in the cave, right?" Dean asked, hitting on the real reason Sam was so determined to go. Dean continued after receiving Sam's reluctant affirmative. "Once I find the kids I'll give you a call, and you can talk to Jenna the whole time I'm bringing them back to the car."
Sam took a deep breath and stood up. The rigid lines in his forehead coupled with the obstinate look in Sam's eyes told Dean the outcome of the discussion before Sam was able to voice it. Dean rolled his eyes and settled in for the speech he knew was coming.
"Now here's what we'll really do. We'll go in there, together, and take this son of a bitch down. Then we'll take the kids back to their families." Sam's cheeks were flushed; his eyes flashed intensely. "Jenna was taken because I wasn't there to save her, because I didn't come to her aid when she needed me. I owe it to her to do this. I need to be the one to save her."
Dean bit the insides of his cheeks to keep from smiling. He known all along that Sam would insist on going, but it was always fun to get the kid to launch into one of his stubborn, yet noble speeches. Truth be told, he was quite proud of the man his baby brother had grown into. Of course, having such a fantastic older brother as a role model certainly didn't hurt.
Dean worked to keep his face straight as he slowly stood up. He walked over to Sam, who looked like he was ready to launch into another long-winded argument if necessary. Dean saved him the trouble by clapping a hand onto Sam's broad shoulder.
"Alrighty then, Sammy boy." Dean grinned up at Sam. "Let's go kill us a bendith!"
Well, that was a long one! Hopefully that answered some of the questions that were still lurking. If I've missed anything, or you love/hate the way everything's going, please let me know. With any luck, the next chapter will be up before Wednesday night. Thanks for reading!!!!