Gimme Shelter – chpt 3.
by: sifi.
OOooOO
"Mmm?" blue-green eyes snapped open, his gaze turning immediately to the motel room door. There was something on the floor. The faint scraping sound of that square being shoved under the door must've been what woke him.
Glancing around the room, no Dean yet...damn! the bed was still made and the bathroom door was open. He hadn't been home and that meant Sam might have to go looking for him.
He stepped out of bed squirrelly twitching in his belly as he grabbed the square off the carpet and frowned deeply.
That's my tie... where... what the HELL?! he thought trying to will away the goose flesh that broke out over his arms and chest. The satiny blue length of fabric he'd been missing at the hotel just a couple days ago sat on a steel looking table, neatly tied and displayed as if it was going to be put on a mannequin. There were no other features in the photograph.
I sooo deeply do NOT like this... he sighed, "Come on Dean... get back here." Tracking him down would be easy enough even without his cell phone, after all he knew his big brother better than anyone. All he had to do was find a seedy bar with a pool table and suckers ripe for the hustling, which in a college town meant cheap, dark and just far enough off campus to be fairly comfortable for University staff to hang out.
Spreading the room darkening drapes he glanced at the ultra-bright sunny day outside and winced. His spine gave a twist as he set this new picture down on the table beside the laptop, skewed just slightly off the one of him and Kitsune. I do NOT like this... he looked around the room, okay, then grasped the room key and opened the door, peering up and down the empty sidewalk in front of the building.
Barefoot he crossed the lot to the office and smiled sleepily at the young woman at the desk.
"Good morning." she greeted, smiling almost indulgently at him.
"Mornin'... did you happen to see anyone near my room door? Uhm... room 3? Woulda been just a couple minutes ago."
He measured her response, weighing instinctively whether or not she was even really thinking about it and decided that she was when she finally shook her head, "Not that I recall... we do have a couple with two children with them... if they bothered you I can ask them to take a different room." She offered.
Sam shook his head, "No... thanks..." he started to turn away but turned back quickly, "what time does housekeeping start making the rounds?"
"Oh not for a few more hours yet, they usually start around 10. There's plenty of time to go back to sleep if you want."
He let his eyes droop and smiled easily with a nod, "Thanks... do me a favor? If you see anyone..."
She shrugged, "I'll try to keep my eyes open."
"Thanks." He nodded and stepped back into the sunshine. Alright Dean... where the hell are you?
OOooOO
Pressure throbbed in felt covered waves outward from the center of his brain while sour acidic bile sat eating into the back of his throat. Something heavy, wet and just as hotly cutting moved through his belly, twisting and torturing his intestines.
I know this feeling...didn't I say never again? I had to have... can I hold it off? Ungh... it's gonna be bad... can I hold it off? He wondered through his partial consciousness, I've been worse, I've been worse... Tampa was worse, and his insides woke up, nope... can't hold it... he pushed himself to all fours, glanced over the room swinging all around him, spotted a hall near the entryway and wrapping the throw blanket around his hips dashed for the only place it made sense for there to be a bathroom.
Burning spears of agony ran lengthwise through him as the sour stink of acid-rotted whiskey exploded out of him. When was the last time I ate anything? Did we eat yesterday morning? Mmm no... slept in... god that was nice... warm safe dreams, beautiful oblivion... so musta been at least the night before... what'd we have? but he couldn't remember and thinking so hard really hurt as he leaned over to unleash another flood.
Where the hell am I? The little hunter in the back of his mind asked while picking through last night's details to try and orient himself. A heavy weight blossomed in the pit of him somewhere between his low belly and his root as flashes of flesh color started to remind him. There was the taste of a faintly whiskeyed kiss, palms full of springy spongy, perky boobs, firm satiny warmth against him, astride him, full lips searching out his sweet spots and the blissful abandon he fell victim to. As it all came back slowly, each layer of lusty wanting and the long moments of dirty, heady debauchery revealing itself, a sparkly hot sense of guilt fought with his nausea. When the cause of the problem came back, and he remembered the spring that fed last night's pool of despair he groaned and rested his head on his forearm, Bobby's words ringing in his ear, "I don't know how to tell y'this so best thing I can do is come right out and say it." 'Say what Bobby?' he remembered thinking with a frown as Sam muttered "It wasn't Laura she was trying to kill..." Bobby's still talking, did he just say? I think he just said, wait what? Hold on Sam, "...she thinks it's her fault Lilith was able to kill the baby..." there wasn't really much else he remembered hearing. He did remember the crushing weight in his chest that wouldn't let him breathe for a moment, baby? Did he just say...? He did... she was... why didn't she tell me? He'd glanced at Sam then as some vague connection was made through the field of brain-static, Why would Lilith care if we were pregnant?... a second later he understood, she didn't want theirs to have any competition. Did she? Will we ever be able to... why didn't she tell me? I was a dad. I would've been a good dad, I woulda tried to be. I want to be a dad...That's twice now I've been robbed of what should have been mine... Ben should have been MY son... not some loser's who probably doesn't even know he exists...I could've been happy with them, I would've been a good husband to Lisa... woulda made her happy and we would have more kids...I would have made it work. He sighed while aching somewhere deep and reminded himself, but he wasn't mine... this one WAS... a drop of saline plinked into the water in the basin, this time coming from his eyes. Last time we were together was at Bobbys... ... ... a few struggling moments later, after some basic math he nodded, she would have just found out... and knowing her she would have wanted to tell me in person... from deep in his belly guilt exploded through him leaving his otherwise waxy face blazoned with a deep red flush of shame.
OOooOO
"WHAT!" Sam barked stabbing the button on the phone an eyeblink after the ring started, but all he got was dead air. "Son of a bitch!" He cursed looking at the word "unavailable" on the screen.
The first time he got the call he thought it was a simple wrong number and hang-up. He even thought the same thing when it happened again a couple minutes later. The next time it started ringing, he let it ring wondering if maybe Dean was using the old phone code for some reason but it went to voice mail and there'd been no message or sound.
He looked at the computer screen and the record of calls he'd accessed from their carrier's site and shook his head frowning while he cinched his boot laces tighter. He startled, jumping when the room phone rang. His mouth went dry and a tangy metallic taste hit the back of his throat.
"'lo?" he answered already cringing inside at the thought of more dead air on the other end.
"Mr. Carson?" came the receptionist's voice.
"Yeah?"
"This is Erica from the front desk, we're holding a package for you, would you like it brought to your room?"
"A package? From who?"
"I'm sorry sir there's no return address. Would you like it brought to you?"
A frown twisted his lips as his belly gave a twitch, "No, I'll pick it up on my way out thanks, just hold it for me there willya?"
"Of course Mr. Carson, just bring an I.D. when you come to the office."
"Will do thanks."
The instant the handset hit the cradle, the phone rang.
"Yeah?" he sighed and found himself listening to dead air on the line.
Dropping the phone back into the cradle and quickly slipping the cord out of the back he shook his head, bit his lip and gave in to the shiver that ran over his spine.
OOooOO
Dean leaned hard against the bathroom door holding onto the throw blanket wrapped around his hips while he scanned the rest of the house. The whole structure had a distinct lack of energy to it. On the left was the family room but there was no tv, just behind the bathroom was a four step stairwell that would take him into the kitchen, and back around to the right was the garage, front hall, living room and elevated dining room just on the opposite side of the kitchen. Then to the right of that would be the stairs going up to the second level.
Kitchen... God I am soooo not ready to eat... need bread and grease... nice big loaf of crusty french bread... lots of melted butter and some bacon on it would be awesome! He turned the corner and stumbled over the blanket, mmm clothes first.
Why does this place feel so dead? He wondered then thought about it. He'd been in many places where there'd been dead bodies, ghosts, all of those things he'd been raised to hunt but no matter what it was... if it was about a death or the dead, a place had a distinct energy, especially a house. This place had nothing. Not like it's 'dead' but more like it's never been alive at all...Ahh yeah that's it... he found his clothes draped over the back of the couch and knew it wouldn't have been his doing.
"Hello?" he called wincing for the volume raging through his head even though he knew there'd be no response. "Wheeew..." he grunted as he got a whiff of himself and grimaced. "Shower... food...Sam's probably freakin'... " he groaned pulling his shorts up the rest of the way and pushing himself up the stairs toward the main bathroom where there was sure to be a shower. There was nothing in the house to indicate that children lived here let alone anyone else. It wasn't about love it was about comfort... why did I DO that? I may be a lot of things but I'm not a cheat... well except at poker or pool if I have to... but... he stopped and wondered about all the women he'd slept with in his life. Not one of them meant anything, not one of them was more than a delicious night's distraction, something to pull him out of whatever torment wouldn't stop chewing through his head, especially after Cassie. "Y'know if you don't want to be with me you don't have to lie Dean! Just leave!" Cassie hollered pointing at the door.
He shook his head, "It's not a lie Cassie... this is what I do..."
She wheeled around, her hands on her hips, "Y'know what? I'll make it real easy for you...Get out. Just get out and don't bother coming back!"
It was the tail end of a fight that'd been going on for over an hour and they were both exhausted. Finally, feeling like a fool, with his dad's assertion that no one would understand what they do ringing in his ears Dean realized that she wasn't going to give him a choice. Once that hit home he turned around and left. After all, no one kept John Winchester waiting, especially not one of his sons when they'd been called to 'heel'.
After that, he'd stuck to doing the job and prowling the cities and towns they worked through like a tom cat, every bit of connection used for whatever tiny teasing drop of human contact to help keep his sanity. For a long time he'd convinced himself it was all he needed, that he could live like this for as long as it took. Course I never expected to live this long.
He moved through the up stairs hall, peering one by one into the meticulously made and kept bedrooms, finding the order a little more than creepy. It was the same feeling he got any time he squatted in a model home.
"You going out with that girl again?" John had asked one night while they were in Twin Falls.
"Maybe." He answered from the motel room door.
"Don't get attached."
"Don't worry... I'm past that." Then he'd just driven off into the night, found himself a nice tuck in at the local forest preserve, parked the Impala and spend the night drowning in heavy metal and whiskey leaving John to think whatever he wanted.
"Son of a bitch!" he cursed watching the knob for the shower spin uselessly against the wall. "Shit." and suddenly he was sure he could've spat out half the Sahara he was so thirsty. "Tell me there's something in the fridge..." he groaned sliding into his jeans and pulling his shirts on quickly.
For five more years he'd been obliviously content to trail along beside John whenever the old man would have him, or to nibble off the crumbs of cases he saw fit to toss Dean's way. I never DID know if he sent me on jobs so he could just watch how I handled things, if I handled them they way he wanted things done... or if he really thought I was capable... wouldn't surprise me if he'd been following behind and watching. He sighed and finished tying his boots trying hard to think about anything but the night he met Laura.
He could still feel death hovering all around him, closing in on him as the EMT's raced him into the emergency room. His heart was stuttering in his chest, misfiring like an engine with a loose timing chain and he could feel himself drowning both in his own blood, and panic. He'd woken up for a few seconds in the car and Sam was gone. John was there, bloody and unconscious but no sign of Sammy. He had no way of knowing where the boy was or what had happened to him and he was scared.
It was all so simple then. We were just three guys being tossed around by powers a lot bigger than us. I think I wish she'd let me die that night.
"Easy there tiger," clear amber eyes smiled into his as warmth and calm slid up his arm and into his chest. His heart beat seemed to catch and hold a proper rhythm and it began to slow and grow stronger, the veil that lingered at the periphery of his vision retreated while words he could no longer remember were said, and finally healing darkness left him to rest.
"Am I a ghost?" he remembered asking some time later as he looked around at the cluttered desk.
"No," she'd smiled, "You're a self aware slice of your own consciousness that's temporarily hanging around in my head."
"I should've known nothing would ever be the same after that." He sighed opening one of the two bottles of water from the otherwise empty fridge and chugging it down. "Man I need food." he tossed the empty into the sink, slid into his jacket grateful to find the Impala's keys in the pocket and made one more pass through the place just to be sure he didn't leave anything behind.
"Good morning baby..." he smiled sliding his sunglasses on then stroked the dash as he reversed down the driveway. Behind him, shadows swayed on the vinyl siding of the model home.
OOooOO
In his booth in the diner Sam twisted in place hoping to drive out the wrench in the middle of his back. He looked at the innocuous envelope on the table, his eyes fixed on the name;
"To: Mr. Jim 'Sammy' Carson
% Arbor Hills Motel Room 3
Winchester, Il. 60332"
He hadn't opened it yet and wasn't going to until he had a chance to talk this over with Dean. Something was very wrong here. There could be no doubt that someone was watching them, the couple photos, his missing stolen tie, numerous hang-up phone calls. It's almost like someone's stalking us... or is it just me? He wondered staring down into a plate of eggs and bacon he no longer wanted.
OOooOO
Dean pulled the car into the lot, eased the gearshift into park and leaned back feeling the engine vibrating all around him.
"Shit." He sighed cutting the soothing rumble and sliding from the car shambled shakily into the motel room.
"Sammy?" he called once the door swung closed behind him. The younger Winchester wasn't there but his belongings remained. That they did seemed somehow strange to the older brother, he expected...well honestly he didn't know what he expected exactly, but for all the times Sam had taken off for whatever reason Dean certainly didn't expect him to stick around for whatever repercussions might now come between them. Dean took a dizzy look around, his eyes fell to his bag still on the chair where he'd been rooting through it before everything hit the fan, and he tossed it onto the bed.
I feel terrible...he leaned in the bathroom doorway, his head on his forearm trying to still the spinning, uncertain if another wave of acidic spew was in the offing. He breathed deep through his mouth until it passed and wondered if perhaps some of it might stem from the leaden weight of regret rocking in his depths. There were a lot of things Dean Winchester regretted, most of them he could live with and learn from, I have to tell her, but this was new. A stable relationship outside of the blood line wasn't something he'd allowed himself to truly, deeply or for any length of time, genuinely contemplate having an opportunity to have, and I blew it. Please forgive me, not that I deserve it but... you have to... I need to know you're out there for me... I need... God I'm sorry.
Shakily he closed the bathroom door and started the shower wondering if the damage he'd done could be repaired.
OOooOO
With the unopened envelope in hand and concern growing in his belly Sam stopped short half relieved at the sight of the impala parked contentedly before their motel room door.
He ambled toward the car peering into the front seat first then the back to see if Dean was still inside or if he'd gone into the room.
Oh man... I'm sorry Dean... he thought turning the key in the lock and walking into a humid wall of shower sounds he could mimic perfectly in sequence since he was a kid. Wow, he hasn't been hung over in a long time... he frowned recognizing the tell tale groan of a night of liquored up debauchery, not to be confused with the moan of a night of successful seduction. Don't tell me you went out and did what I think you did... maan Dean... he's gonna need food if we're gonna be able to work this out.
He set the envelope on top of the pictures, half anchored it with the computer and turned back out the door to get a heart attack in a paper wrapper that would help cure his big brother's hang over.
OOooOO
"Sam?" Dean called stepping out into the main room with a towel swathed around his hips while the shower continued to run behind him, "Huh..." his eyes fell to the table and the manila envelope under the computer, that wasn't there earlier was it? He wondered picking it up and dropping the two photographs beneath it onto the floor.
At the sight of his little brother's missing tie he frowned confused then glanced at the second picture, a lascivious grin growing easily for a moment, "Good boy..." he sighed then seemed to notice something that wiped away that grin and left him with a seedling of unease growing in his belly. Woulda had to be on a ladder to get that shot... what the hell? "Where are you Sammy?" he mumbled reaching for the cell phone the younger man had obviously retrieved and placed on his night table.
OOooOO
Tbc.
Please R&R.
Thanks.
Sifi