(Disclaimer: Don't own anything except the following story)
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Return of the Dragon Slayer.
Chapter Three.
Sam sat quietly in the Impala as they headed towards New York. It had been about six years since they'd last been there and for the life of him, he couldn't remember exactly why. It was a hunt of some kind, he was sure of that but the specifics eluded him. He'd been over his father's journal a heap of times trying to find some mention of what they'd done in New York but he'd found nothing. He'd asked Dean what he remembered of the trip but Dean had just shaken his head and turned up the music.
They'd been on the road for four days now, Dean had managed to stay put for those four days but the dreams had been increasing in intensity and they were both tired, dog tired. Dean had been thrashing about in his bed the previous night and Sam had found it nearly impossible to wake his brother from the dream. He'd had to slap him hard across the face to wake him and when Dean's eyes had finally come into focus, Sam had been frightened by what he'd seen. The distinction between fantasy and reality was starting to blur for his brother and he was slipping further and further into the dreams. They were taking hold of him and if it kept up, it would drive Dean over the edge.
And Dean now flat-out refused to talk about the dreams all he would say was that they would find answers in New York, he was sure of it.
Sam wasn't so sure and he wasn't all that eager to get there either. When Dean had first told him they were heading to New York, his heart had started racing and his mouth had gone dry. He'd tried to talk Dean out of going, he didn't know why he'd done that but he had a bad feeling about the trip. Dean hadn't listened of course, had just grabbed his bag and gone out and waited for Sam in the Impala.
Dean also had mixed feelings about the trip to New York. The closer they got to the city, the more vivid his dreams became; the last one especially so. He'd been a place that was even more beautiful than the world he'd been visiting. This place was 'sacred', he didn't know how he knew, he just did.
He'd been standing in a field of richly violet grass, a man next to him; a man he was sure he knew but had no memory of ever meeting. The man had pointed and Dean had followed his direction, he saw nothing but silver-leaved trees …and then the ground had started to rumble underneath him and the distant trees shook. He felt a shiver of anticipation run through him as he heard the crashing of underbrush and then one of the trees had burst into flame but he hadn't been at all scared. Even when a thunderous roar had echoed through the valley, he had felt no fear. He was meant to be here, this was his place. His heart had started to race and his skin tingled as he realised he was about to see something that would change his life forever. But Sam had woken him from that dream and for a fleeting moment, he had hated his brother, hated him for taking him away from that place.
He put his fingers to the scar on his right cheek, the scar he'd had for about six years; the scar he had no memory of getting; the scar that burned ever deeper, the closer he got to New York. Closer to Mickey's.
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Mickey was in the bar, cleaning tables as the last of the hunters dragged themselves upstairs. He heard the door open and when he looked up he couldn't believe who he saw. Sam and Dean Winchester. If he'd been holding a glass, he was sure he'd have dropped it. Oh, this was bad, this was very bad indeed. He limped behind the bar as the boys came over and sat themselves up on stools. Mickey noticed how Sam sat back in the stool, subconsciously refusing to put his hands anywhere near the bartop.
"Two Buds, thanks Mickey" said Dean.
"Do I know you?" asked Mickey, putting two Buds on the bar as he studied them. They hadn't aged a bit, of course, but there were both very different from the two men that had left here six years ago.
"It's been a while… but yeah. We were here about six years ago" said Dean as he threw money on the bar and picked up his beer. He stopped mid-sip when his eyes lit upon the stuffed-hare sitting on a shelf behind the bar "You still got that damn hare?" asked Dean with a grin.
Mickey nodded "What are you boys doing back in New York after so long then?"
Dean shrugged "Just looking around …kind of a road-trip of sorts I guess… getting away from everything. You know how it is"
Mickey nodded and watched as Dean rubbed absentmindedly at the scar on his cheek; he took in the dark circles underneath his eyes and the haunted look they now held. "Can't remember your name"
Dean smiled and put out his hand "Dean Winchester" he motioned towards Sam "My brother Sam"
Mickey shook Dean's hand and Dean frowned slightly at his touch "Dean" he shook Sam's hand and Sam frowned a little as well "Sam"
He looked at them "I'm just about to close for the night, there are rooms upstairs if you want"
"Thanks, Mickey. Sounds good" said Sam and he put his beer down "I'll get our bags" and he went out to the Impala.
Mickey looked at Dean "You alright, Dean?"
Dean nodded "Yeah. Why do you ask?"
Mickey shrugged "No reason. You just look a little…worn out, I guess"
Dean nodded and rubbed at the back of his neck "It's been a long trip back here" he put his beer down on the bar, got up and went to check on his brother.
"I bet it has" muttered Mickey.
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Mickey locked up and showed Dean and Sam to their room, a different room from the one they'd stayed in last time, he made sure of that. He shuffled down to his quarters at the end of the hallway and locked the door behind him. He grabbed a beer from his fridge, he never drank while he worked so this was his first of the evening, he was sure it wasn't going to be his last. He slumped into his armchair and removed his prosthetic leg, rubbing at the stump to ease the ache he always had at the end of his shift and he thought about the appearance of the Winchesters.
He'd been surprised, hell, more than surprised, it had shocked the shit out of him. He hadn't ever expected to see them again…well not until it was time to go and finally get them. Bring them back. But for them to show up now …he shook his head, it had to be more than a co-incidence. He knew Dean had been the one to bring them back here, it was written all over his face. The man was in turmoil. Mickey sighed, he hadn't agreed with the decision that had been made six years ago, had argued against it but it had been done anyway and the consequences of that decision and the ones made after it…well no one had seen that coming.
He had two choices…two directions in which to point the men. He reached over and grabbed the whiskey from the side-table; beer wasn't going to cut it tonight and the decision he had to make would either save or destroy his people. He just didn't know which would be their salvation.
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Dean fell into a deep and easy sleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow. Sam stayed up and watched his brother for as long as he could but he could feel the hands of exhaustion pulling at him and he finally surrendered, hoping his brother would be there in the morning when he woke.
Dean's mind registered his brothers deep and steady breathing and he rose quietly from the bed, dressed and slipped out the door. He walked silently down to the bar, weaving his way through the empty tables and whispered before unlocking the door and closing it behind him. He went to the Impala, taking the sword and coat from the trunk, putting them on before getting behind the wheel and heading out. He had work to do.
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Sam woke feeling refreshed. He hadn't slept this well in longer than he could remember and he had desperately needed a good nights sleep. He rolled over and groaned when he saw the empty bed. He got up quickly and dressed. He looked at his watch, shit, it was almost midday…maybe Dean was down in the bar…but he knew he was kidding himself. Dean was gone again, he was sure of it.
He jogged down the stairs to the bar, there were four hunters there…but no Dean. He went over to Mickey who was picking up empty beer bottles from one of the far tables.
"Mickey"
Mickey smiled "Afternoon, Sam. I take it you slept well"
Sam gave him a short smile "Yeah, thanks. You haven't seen Dean have you?"
Mickey looked at Sam and saw the worry and…fear, yeah, that was fear, in the man's eyes "No, son, I haven't"
"Shit" said Sam, turning away from him and heading to the door. The Impala was gone "Shit" he turned and Mickey was standing behind him.
"We need to have a chat, you and I"
"Now's really not the time, Mickey"
"Now's exactly the time, Sam. You need to sit down and tell me everything that you and Dean have been doing these last six years and I mean everything. Something's going on with Dean and I've a feeling I may have the answers you're looking for"
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Mickey sat back in the chair and picked up his coffee, it was cold. He got up and bought the pot back to the table and filled his and Sam's cups again before sitting back down.
"And you don't know where he's going or what he's doing?"
"He doesn't know, Mickey. I've never been able to follow him, it's like he knows when I'm in a deep sleep and won't hear him leave ...but he has no memory of anything. Just wakes up in strange places and he's always wearing the coat and carrying the sword" Sam watched as Mickey sat back in his chair, rubbing at his chin. He didn't know why he was telling Mickey all of this, but for some reason he knew he could trust this man.
"And the tattoo?"
Sam shook his head "Has no memory of getting it and the damn thing's huge. I spoke to the owner of the tattoo parlour and he said the only thing Dean had told them was that he and the dragon were one"
"And the dreams, blue fields and a pink and orange sky…"
"Yes, dammit! We've been over this, Mickey. He's starting to believe the place is real. He can't tell fantasy from reality anymore and he's out there with a freakin' sword doing god only knows what!"
"Settle down, Sam…"
Sam shook his head "You said you had answers, Mickey? Well Dean said we'd find answers here. So start talking because the longer Dean's gone…"
Mickey sighed "I can't tell you much of anything, Sam. I wish I could but…I made a promise to someone. What I can tell you is that Dean isn't losing his mind. In fact, he's finding it" he held up his hands as Sam started to protest "I can't give you the answers you need but I can send you to someone who can" he rose from the table.
"Where are you going?" asked Sam.
"Back to work. Until your brother comes back, there's not a lot we can do"
So they waited... waited and waited. Sam spent the next couple of hours pacing the bar, going out to check the front lot, coming back in, pacing some more and then going out to check for Dean again. Mickey had finally had enough, Sam was making the other hunters in the bar nervous so he put him to work, hoping it would be a distraction for the boy.
Dean had finally turned up around 11 that night. He looked haggard and the circles under his eyes were even more prominent. He sat down at the bar as Mickey put a beer in front of him, studiously avoiding eye contact with Sam.
"Have a nice day trip, Dean?" asked Sam angrily.
"Sammy, please…not now" and he drank almost half the beer in one go then put the beer down on the bar and rubbed his hands down his face.
"Dean" Dean looked up at Mickey "You're not going crazy, son"
Dean laughed hollowly "No?"
Mickey smiled "No" and picked up a coaster, wrote on the back of it before passing it to Dean "You go there, you'll find the answers you're looking for"
Dean looked at the co-ordinates then back to Mickey "What makes you think I'm looking for answers?"
"Aren't you?"
Dean looked at Sam "You been talking out of school, Sammy?"
"Fuck you, Dean" he grabbed the co-ordinates out of Dean's hand and went upstairs.
Dean looked at Mickey "How do you know I'll find the answers I'm looking for there?"
Mickey smiled "Trust an old man, Dean"
They looked up as Sam came downstairs with their bags. He walked to the door and turned back "Well?"
Dean finished his beer, sighed and followed Sam out the door.
Mickey watched them both leave and wondered if he'd done the right thing.
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They drove in silence towards the co-ordinates Mickey had given them. Sam was at the wheel and he refused to speak to Dean. Dean had tried a couple of times but had given up when he'd seen the look on his brother's face, he hadn't seen Sam this pissed at him in a long time. He sighed and put his hand to his head as he felt a searing pain briefly flash through it. He shook his head and concentrated on the road in front of him. Answers. He was finally going to get answers.
They hit the outskirts of New Jersey and twenty-minutes later turned onto a dirt track. Dean felt the scar on his cheek start to burn and another pain jolt his head as they travelled further down the track. They finally reached a clearing that held a small cabin. There was a light flickering in one of the windows and smoke spiralling out of the chimney into the star-filled night.
Sam pulled the Impala next to an old Dodge Charger and killed the engine. They sat in the car and stared at the cabin. Dean shook his head again as a dull thudding started in his mind. He felt Sam's hand on his shoulder.
"You alright?"
"Yeah, fine" said Dean and he pushed the door open and got out.
Sam followed his brother out and they moved towards the front of the Impala. Sam looked at his watch "It's after midnight, Dean. You think…" he stopped as the front door of the cabin opened. There wasn't enough light for him to see who it was, but he could tell from the silhouette that it was a woman. She walked somewhat hesitantly towards the porch steps and Sam felt butterflies start up in his stomach. He turned to his brother, Dean was staring and rubbing at his temple "You sure you're okay?" he whispered.
Dean nodded "Headache"
Sam turned back as the woman walked down the porch steps, she was still in the shadows but as she took another step, she was lit by the moonlight and he frowned, she was familiar. He couldn't quite place her and he didn't have time to think about it as his attention was drawn from her by his brother's yell. He turned and managed to grab Dean as he fell to his knees. Dean's hands were clamped around his head and his nose was bleeding. "Jesus!"
Dean was letting out low grunts of pain that turned into a yell as he started to shake violently. Sam looked up as the woman came over and crouched in front of Dean. She took his head in her hands and turned his face to hers "Dean"
"Hey! Leave him alone!"
"No, Sam. Dean…listen to me" she said.
Dean was in agony, the pain in his head was almost unbearable. He didn't know what was happening to him but when he'd seen the woman, seen her face his mind seemed to have …exploded…that's what it felt like. He could see nothing, hear nothing above the pain. Then he had felt hands on his face and a soft voice…a voice he knew.
"Dean…Dean…look at me" she forced his eyes to hers and she smiled at him "I'm gonna help you, Dean, okay?"
He lifted his eyes to the voice and forced his eyes to focus. He smiled "Finn…" and he slumped against her as his memories came crashing back.
To be continued…
