Fly
to the Angels
Chapt 4?
Summary: Dean has to face his own
memories, a trip home, a estranged father, and his own
mother.
Pairing: Sam/Dean (gen)
PG13- slight language warning
Thanks for all the support!
Disclaimer: I don't own the Winchesters or SPN. This is not-for-profit.
Dean was developing a complex. About houses. It was something he had come to realise as he studied Missouri Mosely's business establishment, and by the look of it, home residence too.
It was probably why he felt so at ease amongst the countless motels and cheap rooms he found himself frequenting. The lack of attachment, something he needed, but not necessarily healthily expressed, from his own family, was reassuring when all it involved was living and breathing, in something that was an empty shell, only consisting of four walls. With basic facilities, and never staying anyone place no more than a week, at anyone time, it could never be called a 'home', and attachment never an issue.
Dean did not need separate rooms or a kitchen and bathroom that were actually more than a foot away from his own bed. He didn't need a lived-in abode, with two or more floors, a living room, a garage and a white picket fence… home for Dean, simply meant, his father and brother.
Right here, right now, it did scream 'lived-in' with vociferous pride, garden bright and colourful, flowers and shrubs exploding naturally, and an old-banger of a car, that wouldn't have looked out of place being driven by an old lady in her late sixties on wards.
Dean's late lunch, an over-stuffed burger, sat unattended by his side, relatively untouched. Sam's own, a somewhat healthier option, did not fare much better, although he was pretty sure were left untouched for entirely different reasons, with a thunderous ache still playing against the back of his eyes.
"So" Sam said, "You ready?"
"– Yeah, sure" he said, startled out of his observations.
They both exited the Impala, and made their way round the rusty-brown car, parked in front of a closed garage.
"Dude" Dean commented, dryly, as he kept one eye on the neglected car, "Kill me before I end up driving something like that".
"I think it's safe to say" Sam replied, with a smile, "That you'd only drive that by force".
"An evil one" Dean agreed, as they climbed the few, steep steps, to the brown-wooden door.
As Sam reached to press the bell, the door suddenly swept open and a small black lady stood there, a beaming smile radiating of her.
"Oh" Sam said, startled, before smiling back, "Hello, you probably don't know who we are" he began.
"-Of course I know who you are" she said in a high pitched voice that consisted of treacle and honey, "I've been expecting you".
Dean looked at her, one eyebrow raised, as he hesitantly asked, "you… you sensed us coming?"
"Well, honey, I can 'sense' things, as you put it" she said, breaking into small bubble of laughter, "But no, not this time".
She backed up, letting the door swing open more, revealing a wide hallway with dark warm brown and mahogany wooden panels.
"Come on in boys", she said, gesturing for them to follow, "We have a lot to talk about".
Both Sam and Dean exchanged similar confused and curious looks, before Sam took a step in, closely followed by Dean.
"If you didn't see us coming," Sam asked, "How'd you know…?"
"Your father told me" she said calmly.
"You've spoken to Dad?" Sam asked, shocked, and upset, that their father had obviously been in contact with this stranger, but not Dean or himself.
"Yes" she said, moving into a smaller room that consisted of a big, well-cushioned sofa, a coffee table, and a one-seater. A small desk sat, situated in front of a window. She gestured with her hand, indicating for them to sit on the sofa, "As soon as he heard you boys were here, he called me", she paused and studied them as they both sank into the deep seats, Dean on the left, Sam on the right, "He said it wouldn't take you long to find me".
Dean shifted slightly, moving his whole, prompting her to say, "Don't even think about putting your dirty boots on my table".
He paused, eyes widening slightly before he settled fully back into his seat.
"How did he know?" Sam asked, continuing the questioning.
"I called him" Dean spoke quietly beside him.
"What?" Sam asked, turning to face his older brother, shocked, "When?"
"When we stopped" Dean said, refusing to turn and meet the interrogating stare, "toilet break. Gone for a few minutes" he paused and briefly glanced at the unchanging stare, "Any of this sounding familiar?"
"Why?" Sam asked bluntly.
"I… what did you think I was going to do?" Dean asked, "We were coming here – back here" he paused, feeling his face redden, "I needed…"
"No" Sam said quickly, stalling Dean's flail into embarrassment, slightly surprised by his choice of words. He couldn't remember Dean ever coming out with 'I need' that didn't have anything to do with beer, girls, himself or some other selfless-act, "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I don't know" Dean admitted, "It was… I just wasn't thinking straight O.K" a shrug of the shoulder, and Sam could feel the tense muscles, as arm brushed against arm, Dean's free hand rubbing at his eyes again.
What do you want me to say, Sam, Dean silently fumed, that I was shitting myself, that I couldn't get that house, the flames, those screams out of my head… God, he's kid brother just didn't need to know those details. He looked up, eyes darting quickly to Missouri, as he fidgeted under her scrutiny.
Shit, he thought, did I just broadcast all that?
"Now's not the time for brotherly spats" Missouri spoke up, eyes moving from brother to brother.
"Do you know where he is?" Sam asked, turning his attention back to the lady before him.
"No… sorry" she spoke it softly.
Dean shifted again, head coming up, eyes darting up and down, in short concessions.
"I thought you were psychic?" he said.
"Boy, I can't just grab facts out of thin air!" she scolded, glaring at him.
"Miss Mosely…" Sam began.
"Missouri, please" she insisted, "We are all friends here".
"Missouri" he started again, "We you his contact…?"
"I'm your Daddy's friend, Sam" Missouri corrected him, "And yes we have contact. If you're trying to ask if I was the one who informed him of his partner's death than yes I told him".
"When your father came to see me he was consumed by grief, and he wanted answers" she continued, "He took me to the house to see if I could sense something… to see if I could feel the imprints - the things left behind – to try and find out what killed your mother".
Again Dean felt uncomfortable under the scrutiny of this woman. Her eyes soft, her mouth small, her silky smooth complexion, doing nothing to halt the pendulum of nerves and emotions that were already sharp and sensitive. Discussing this now was not helping.
"Your Daddy wanted you boys away from there" she said frowning at Dean, "and he asked to keep an eye on the house".
"And?" Sam asked eagerly, "Has there been anything?"
"Well, that's just it Sam" Missouri said, looking at him, "There hasn't been anything – no deaths, no reports of incidents, no suspicious circumstances… what exactly is it that you have seen?"
"So, Dean" Missouri asked, "Is it all psychics you're scared off or just me?"
She sat opposite him at the kitchen table, as she poured fresh, home-brewed coffee, into three coffee mugs, which she had placed between them. After Sam had revealed the details of his dream, and Missouri had given her reassurances, she had agreed it warranted another home-visit – today. Sam had visibly relaxed, excusing himself to go to the toilet, but Dean had remained physically tense and withdrawn. Eyes pained, a slight flush to his cheeks, Missouri had, herself, felt heavy and weighed down by the torrent of emotions hammering away.
"I'm not scared" Dean said defensively, tone abrupt, "You're just not what I was expecting" he added unconvincingly.
"And what were you expecting?"
"Hmm… old lady, white eyes" he paused and smirked at her, "crystal ball?"
"I don't want to scare the clientele" she said, laughing and then she looked him directly in the eye, "I'm not going to invade your privacy Dean. I won't go poking where I'm not wanted" she took a sip of her own coffee.
Sam appeared, through the open doorway, catching the end of the exchange.
"Sam" she said, "There's a coffee here for you".
Missouri was well aware of the alarmed look that spread across his face as he glanced at his brother. These boy's had obviously not dealt with, or discussed, Sam's newly discovered skills.
"Thanks" Sam said, finding himself sitting at the head of Missouri's kitchen table, "So, when do we make a move?"
"As soon as we have finished our refreshments" Missouri nodded at Sam, seeing his impatience, "I need to make up some supplies, just as a precaution, but we should be out here in thirty minutes or so" she looked at Sam, "We do it my way – let me have a feel for the rooms, sense the imprints, see what I feel".
"Right" Sam said, "O.K, sounds good"
Missouri cleared her throat as Dean sat silently staring down into his coffee-mug.
"I think you should sit this one out Dean" Missouri spoke up, expecting the impending reaction.
"What?" Dean shot out, head snapping up.
"I don't think you should go" she repeated firmly.
"I have to" he insisted.
"But do you want to?" Missouri asked, again fixing him with a knowing stare.
"Sammy needs…" Dean began.
"Do you want to?" Missouri asked again, voice firm and unwavering, as she sat small, framed by the sink and brightly sun-lit window.
"No…" Dean paused glancing at his brother, "But I can't let Sam go in there on his own".
"This isn't about not being there for him" Missouri insisted, still keeping her sight locked on him, "This is about what you need, what Sam needs… what that house and family needs".
Dean shot up out the chair, strong hands and arms pushing him up, so forcibly that his chair clattered backwards precariously before finally tumbling over.
"I don't care what you think" Dean stated firmly.
"Dean" Sam stated, voice cautionary yet soft.
Missouri stood also, keeping their dead-like sight on each other.
"I can't… I won't let him do it alone" he said vehemently, staring her down, eyes set with stone.
Missouri finally moved from her position, pulling away, one hand remained, fingers tracing the edge of the table, as she moved around, until she found herself standing in front of him.
"I know Honey" she said calmly, "But it's not good for you to go in there".
Dean started to reply, but she held a finger to his lips, "Shh, let me speak".
"These places" she began, "Dark spirits… whatever you want to call them, they feed of death, fear, despair, darkness", she raised her hand from the table and placed it gently against the front of his right shoulder, noticing his flinch, as did so, "You're shoulder was hurt".
"You're poking around" Dean stiffly reminded her, "Thought you couldn't 'grab facts out of thin air?"
"Wounds can mark your soul, much like a scar, the physicality of it, as well as feelings and emotions associated with it" she paused, continuing to keep her hand held there, "But your soul, everything about you, is already hurting… and boy it's seeping out of you like a second-hand sieve".
Dean's hand snapped up, fingers wrapping tightly around the offending wrist, "I thought you said you wouldn't…".
"I have to" she shot back, "I'm not going to go into specifics here Dean. Enough has been said – all anyone needs to know is that you shouldn't go in there" she paused, glancing over at Sam, Because if you do, then your not only putting yourself at risk, but your brother too".
"But Sammy…" Dean began defeated.
"You're not going in" Sam spoke up, as he stood up and walked around the other side of the table, effectively trapping Dean, like a boxed-animal , in the corner of Missouri's kitchen. Cruel move Sam Winchester, he considered silently, but one that he hoped would have a desired effect, "Look what happened the last time you were there".
Dean roughly pushed Missouri's hand away and turned to Sam, "I'll put a handle on it" he insisted.
"We can't take the risk" Sam said, "I wont be alone – Missouri will be with me" he paused, digging into his pocket, "And dude, cell-phones".
Missouri backed away slightly as Sam eased a bit closer to him glad to see that Dean didn't attempt to run.
"I don't like it" Dean admitted quietly.
"I know Bro" Sam said, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder, "But it's for the best"
"Tell me that again when it's over" Dean said, catching Sam's eye, face resigned and unsure.
Twenty five minutes later they were finally ready to leave. Missouri had enlisted Dean's help in packing the several ingredients together, a small gesture, that she hoped made him feel a bit more worthwhile. Hopeless and helpless had been the general feeling, floating around him, but not enough to mask the desperation of letting his brother back into that house.
Missouri had gathered the bags up, placing them in her handbag, and shocked Dean even further by informing her that not only were they taking his car because it was the first available car on the drive, that he was to stay here. Dean had argued at first but then agreed with Missouri's distrust of him actually staying put. Would he stay outside, if he heard a scream, she had questioned. Probably not, he had answered. So, reluctantly he had agreed to stay and for Sam to call when it was over. Missouri had handed her own car keys to Dean, much to the delight of Sam, who gave him a knowing smile
When it was time to leave, Missouri headed outside, leaving Dean and Sam, standing in the open front door way, to have a few words between themselves.
"This is going to be O.K Dean" Sam said, turning to look at him, "I promise".
"Dude" Dean complained, "Don't make promises; it's like a curse or something".
"You make them all the time" Sam noted.
"No" Dean said, hand reaching up, exploring the wooden ridge of the door-jamb, "just tell people how it is – besides it's a big brother's job".
"Yeah", Sam smiled at him, "But every now and then the kid brother gets to shed the annoying side-kick cape".
"What movies have you been watching?" Dean snarked at him, "No don't answer that, it'll probably be some geek arty crap".
"You mean you won't understand it" Sam said, laughing.
"Bitch"
"Jerk"
There was silence for a few seconds before Dean pulled his hand away from the door-jamb and slapped Sam on the back.
"Seriously" Dean said, "Be careful"
"Always" Sam replied, "I'll call"
He watched as his brother trotted down the steps and path to the awaiting Missouri and the Impala.
His heart squeezed tight as the Impala pulled out of the driveway. It really hurt to watch his brother drive away from him.
It was several nails, and a few hours later, that Dean finally heard anything.
Pacing back and fourth, up and down, he was sick of the sight of this kitchen, that table, and his cell-phone, sitting innocently in the middle of it, willing it to ring.
So it was a blessed release when it did, Sam's name flashing up, like a flare.
He scrambled for it, knee banging hard against a chair, causing him to grunt out "Sam!"
"I'm alive" the voice announced.
Relief flooded through him, like a dam, releasing its water. He was alive, and hopefully, it was all over.
"Man, it's good to hear your voice" he admitted honestly.
"Me too, bro" Sam said through the line, "Are you O.K?"
"Hey, that's my line" Dean said incredulously, phone clutched tightly to his ear.
"I'm fine" Sam insisted, "This thing was pretty pissed. Threw a lot of shit around" he paused, taking a breath, "But you know, it just wasn't prepared for the reflexes of a Winchester".
"Right" Dean said ignoring Sam's light attempts at humour, "But you're O.K?"
"I told you, I'm fine" Sam insisted again, "I think something attempted to strangle me, but dude, get me… I dodged!"
"Choke-boy out-moved a choke-hold?" Dean said, alarmed that he hadn't been there to help, but strangely reassured the familiarity. He grabbed at Missouri's keys and headed for the front door, "I'm impressed".
"Listen" Sam said, "Missouri said she can't feel anything here anymore, like it's empty, so if you're up to it, why don't you head over".
"Already on my way" Dean replied, as he reached the car and fumbled with the keys, finally unlocking it.
"Kay" Sam replied.
"You didn't mention…" Dean began as he started the ignition and pulled out of the driveway, "It's not…"
"I'll tell you everything on the way".
Sam stood, hands bundled in his pockets, with Missouri and Jennifer, her kids at her side. They had just finished clearing all the mess up, that had been caused by flying objects, missiles and furniture, unwilling to let Jennifer on doing it all herself.
He had let Missouri explain all the details to her, while he had phoned Dean, to fill him on the night's events. He had explained that Missouri could not sense anything of the thing that had killed their mother, no familiar imprints or feelings that she had felt, all those 22 years ago. Instead she felt something entirely different. Troubled spirits and dark souls.
Missouri had explained to Sam, and he in turn to Dean, that when bad things happen, something so bad that it leaves a dark shadow, and much like how Dean's wound scard his soul, it marked the house and all around it, leaving it fester and bring with it an opportunity, and place, for more troubled and dark spirits.
He was disappointed that this wasn't the thing that killed his mother and Jess, but as the same time, he was somewhat glad, because he had always pictured his father and brother, by his side, all three wronged in such unimaginable ways.
He was pulled out of his thoughts as the familiar rusty-brown car pulled up, parking against the sidewalk.
"Dean!" Sari exclaimed, as he climbed out of the car, bouncing eagerly over to him, "Hi"
"Hey" he said, smiling at her, "Had a good night?"
"Yeah" she nodded, "We went to the pictures, although…" she paused and glanced back at her brother, "We had to choose a child-friendly one".
"I'll let you in a secret" Dean said, crouching down, "That's what big brothers' and sisters' do" he winked at her and stood up.
Missouri headed over, hand extended, "My car better be in one piece, Dean Winchester" she said as he handed over the keys.
"I'm surprised it even went at all" Dean smirked at her.
"I better be going" she said, choosing to ignore him, "It's late and I'm not getting any younger. I presume you boys have a place to stay".
Sam stood, hands still in pockets, and stepped in before Dean could speak, "We're fine thanks Missouri".
Truth was they hadn't even thought of a motel or room, Dean intent on getting the hell out of Lawrence as soon as possible, Sam intent on stopping anything from happening. Dean interpreted Sam's words as 'Thanks, but we need to be on our own' which in turn meant, 'We need to re-group'.
"O.K" Missouri said, heading to her car, "Call if you need me".
Sam and Dean both turned to Jennifer. They said their goodbyes, watching as the family went inside, and then headed for the Impala, both sliding wearily inside.
"So, where to?" Dean asked.
"Do you mind if we stay for a while?" Sam asked, "I just want to make sure they are all right".
Dean glanced at Sam, a concerned look on his face, as Sam stared out of the window.
"Why?" Dean asked, "I thought…?"
"It is" Sam reassured him, "It's just… I want to make sure they are O.K, that's all"
"Sure" Dean finally replied, settling back into his seat, he asked himself, when the hell is this going to be over?
"Dude, I don't get" Dean asked, "If everything is O.K, why are we still here?"
"I just wanted to make sure" Sam said again.
"Have you had another…?" Dean started to ask.
"I just feel… different" Sam finally said, "Something feels off".
"Why didn't you mention anything to Missouri?" Dean asked, confused, "I'm not supposed to be here, remember?".
Sam refused to look at him, instead turning his head, so he could look outside of the window, their old house directly in his view.
"Because… I didn't start feeling like this straight away" He paused, "It could be trapped wind for all I know! Would you just stop with the twenty questions!"
"Dude, wanting a shit, doesn't keep you outside a house for hours on end!"
"Dean!" Sam exclaimed frustrated.
Dean turned, and looked out of his own window, blowing small warm puff of air, against the cold glass.
"About before…" Dean began, "I am sorry that I didn't have your back".
Sam did turn then, glancing at him quickly, throwing a small smile, before turning back again to look at the house.
"We've been through all this" Sam said, "You had no choice… besides there was no way you were getting past Missouri".
Dean snorted hard.
"I'd like to see her try" Dean said, catching another smirk from Sam, "O.K, maybe not… she's a freaky little lady".
"I can't believe you drove her car" Sam suddenly said, "What was thing you said about…?"
"Shut up!" Dean said, seriously, "If you ever… I swear… just don't"
"Yeah, whatever Dean" Sam, said, waving a hand in his direction, "Thinly veiled threats and all I'm really hearing is blah blah blah"
"We'll at least I'm not an annoying side-kick" Dean argued back, "And you actually admitted. Which makes me Batman!"
No response
"Dude, did you hear me?" Dean asked, turning to look at Sam, "I called you Robin. He wears a shitty home-made costume… Sam?"
"Jennifer" Sam whispered out, "It's Jennifer".
He suddenly flung the door open and stumbled out of the car, barrelling himself across the garden to the white door, which was firmly shut and refusing to open.
"What?" Dean shouted, scrambling out after him, "What is it?"
"They're in trouble" Sam shouted back, as lights, inside and out, started flickering.
The door, surprisingly, flew open and a blonde and hysterical woman flung herself out, straight into Sam's arms.
"There's something in there" she cried, tears falling from her cheeks, "the kids… I tried to get them, but it won't let me".
Sam quickly pushed Jennifer into Dean's arms, shouting, "Look after Jennifer, I'll get the kids".
"No wait!" Dean yelled after him, as Jennifer turned, and buried her head into his arm, crying with gut-wrenching sobs, "Sam!"
"My kids" Jennifer mumbled brokenly, "God, please don't let anything happen to my kids".
Dean pulled his arm up enveloping her tight to chest, as whispered into her hair.
"Everything will be O.K" he said, "Sam'll get them. Everything will be fine".
He wasn't too sure who the words were for, himself or Jennifer, but all could do was stand there, holding a woman who had only met that very morning, close to him, as he stared disbelievingly at the open front door, like it was the gateway to hell.
And then suddenly two silhouetted figures appeared in the door-way as Sari, clutching tightly at her little brother's hand, face fierce and determined, ran out into the night.
"Oh thank god" Jennifer exclaimed, pulling herself free of his hold, as she wept both children into her arms, leaving Dean staring at the doorway with devastated hope.
"Where's Sam?" he barked.
"Something grabbed him" Sari said, eyes full of tears, "Just pulled him right away from me".
And then Dean was running, stumbling, yelling his brother's name as he skidded to the open doorframe, his chest tightening and breaths hurting. Please, no, he begged silently, don't let it have taken his brother too.
He had no choice
He ran in, calling his brother's name, with all his might.
The world shifted
Sam blinked and realised he was not being dragged across the floor as he had been when he was wrenched from Sari's grasp, the faint sound of two children screaming ringing in his ears, but was now hanging against a wall, feet dangling. Hanging was not the right word, he thought. No he was pinned there, by an unseen force, dread spiking in him as he realised.
His legs could not move
His arms could not move
He couldn't even move his head
He was royally fucked
And that's when he saw it. A figure in flames. Moving towards him slowly, but the fear he'd had before, receded and a sense of familiarity swept through it.
"Oh my god" he whispered, "I know who you are… I know now".
The flames receded slowly, drawing back like a snake, to reveal a beautiful young lady, soft blonde hair cupping her face, a sharp-white nightdress billowing around her, and a wistful smile on her face.
"Sam" she said moving closer, coming to stop mere inches from his trapped form, "I'm sorry".
She turned, almost floating and stepped away from him, and lifted her head defiantly.
"Let go of my son" she ordered, voice strong, "And get out of my house"
At that precise moment two things happened.
Sam heard a gasped 'Mom' as a white light suddenly branched out, like an exploding firework, from their mother.
"Mom, Wait!" Dean cried, as he flung himself towards her.
To Sam's horror the white light not only completely engulfed Mary, But Dean too, blinding Sam as the bonds were released and he slipped to a floor in an undignified heap.
He blinked several times, desperately trying to regain a sense of the room, as the blinding darkness receded, and the room swam back into focus.
Dean was still, his back facing him, on his knees as another whispered "Mom' escaped from him brokenly.
"Dean" Sam asked, gently, as he shuffled forward, shaking his shoulder. Dean didn't respond, so Sam pushed himself around, mirroring his position, with one hand still resting on his shoulder.
Dean just stared ahead, eyes unfocused and dazed, as blood dripped from his nose, some pooling on the wooden floor between, some staining his jeans at the knee.
"Mom" he whispered again.