Chapter 4: Mind Games
"So they aren't stuck to the house?" Dean asked, although it wasn't really directed at Sam.
"Apparently." Sam replied. "But why haven't they ever attacked outside of the house before?"
Dean shrugged, "Maybe we pissed them off."
Sam smirked, "Yeah, I could see you doing that. So you wanna tell me what really happened today? Cause I know you haven't been honest with me."
"Yeah because you've been so detailed about your little hallucination." Dean snapped back.
Sam stood and began to pace. Dean was really beginning to infuriate him. "What crawled up your ass?" When Dean didn't answer he continued, "Look man, these things are obviously trying to mess with us. We can't go in there hiding things. You wanna know what it said to me? Fine. It said you resent me."
Dean's head snapped up. "What the hell's that supposed to mean? What do I resent you for?"
"I don't know, why don't you tell me." Sam said, sitting directly across from his brother.
Dean shook his head, "Look, you said it yourself. They're trying to mess with us. They obviously know we're going to kill them, they're trying to get to us. That's all." When Sam looked at him doubtfully he said, "I don't resent you for anything Sam."
"Okay. You're right. They're just playing with us. So why don't you tell me what happened to you today."
Once again Dean's hand wandered up to his chest, which was still sore. He saw Sam's eyes widen and knew his little brother was going to start freaking out if he didn't answer his question. "Fine Sam. I went in and was slammed against the wall. Not softly I might add. Someone has a real hard hand." He laughed a little, trying to lighten the mood. It didn't work. If anything Sam seemed to tense even more.
"What did it say?" Sam asked. Although by the look in Dean's eyes, he wasn't sure he wanted to know. "Dean?"
Dean sighed. "Nothing really Sammy. I don't really even remember."
"You're lying!" Sam said rising to his feet. He was beyond angry now. "Damn you! Why can't you ever be straight with me! I'm not asking you to bare your soul Dean!"
"Good. Cause I did enough of that on the side of the road. Let it go Sam. Let's just get this job done. Find out the info we need, burn some witches, and get out of here. You need to relax man." No way was Dean going to tell Sam what had been said. His little brother carried too much guilt around as it was. Dean was not going to add to his load. Besides, deep down, he knew it wasn't true. Sam may not want their father dead, but he would never hate Dean for it. He knew that. At least, his mind did, he wished his heart knew it too.
Sam sat down and looked intently at Dean. When he spoke he kept his voice calm and even. "I thought we were done with this man. I thought we could talk to each other, that you trusted me. I can't keep doing this with you."
"Aw come on Sam. Don't do that." Sam didn't answer him so Dean continued, changing the subject. "Have you found anything helpful to get rid of them? We're kinda burning daylight here."
Sam sighed. Unfortunately Dean was right. They were burning hours. But when this was over with, they were going to talk. Sam wasn't going to live like this anymore, and if it took giving his brother an ultimatum, then he would.
"Yeah. I think I found something. I need to look into a little more. But I wrote down everything we'll probably need. Why don't you make sure it's all together."
Dean nodded, taking the paper from Sam, happy to be moving on to something useful.
SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN
Dean ducked as another knife came flying at him. This time it nicked the top of his shoulder. "Bring it on bitch!" he screamed. He ran, making it out of the kitchen to the living room. He knew he had to keep them distracted long enough for Sam to finish drawing the symbols.
"You can't escape me" the voice whispered in his ear.
"Sammy!" Dean yelled. His little brother came running down the stairs, looking just as battered as he was. "Sam, we gotta finish the incantation! Are you ready?" Dean was about to say more when that damn voice interrupted again.
"Do it Sam. You know you hate him. It's his fault your father is gone. Do it Sam. Kill him"
"What!" Dean yelled. Then he looked at Sam again, seeing the gun in his hand. Immediately Dean began to back up. "Come on Sam"
Sam looked genuinely confused. "Dean? I'm not going to hurt you."
Dean backed up a little more. "Then why don't you put the gun down man."
Sam looked down at his hands and dropped the gun like it was on fire. "Oh my God Dean. You don't think I'd shoot you?"
"But he does. He knows that he should be dead. That it should have been him and not your father. He knows you hate him for it." The voice teased.
"No!" Sam shouted. He looked at Dean, "Dean please. You know that's not true. They're trying to tear us down. We can't listen. We have to finish the spell."
Dean was about to say something when the screams began. His hands flew up to cover his ears. "Sam!" he shouted and began to go towards his brother, and that was when the wall of flames shot up.
"No!" Dean screamed, coming straight up in bed, panting like he'd run a mile.
Sam shot up in his own bed, scrambling to get up but tangling in the bed sheets and falling between the two beds. "What the hell!" He jumped up, ready to take on whatever was in the room. "Dean?"
"Relax Sammy, there's nothing here." Dean said as he rested himself up against the wall.
Sam slumped back down onto his own bed. "What's wrong?" In the small light that was coming through the crack of the curtains Sam could see Dean. His brother's chest was heaving and he was sweaty. "Dean? What happened?"
Dean chuckled slightly, "Sorry man. Guess it was a bad dream."
Sam exhaled loudly. "You scared the shit out of me. You okay?"
"Yeah. Go back to sleep." Dean told him.
Sam sat silent for a minute. A nightmare? Dean didn't have nightmares. And he noticed that since he woke up Dean hadn't looked at him dead on once. "What did you see?"
Dean was startled by Sam's question. "What do you mean what did I see?"
"I mean, what did they show you?" Sam asked, knowing he was on the right track.
Dean swallowed hard. It went against everything he was, but right now his emotions were a little raw and he just wasn't thinking clearly. But his next words seemed to just tumble out. "Do you hate me Sam?"
Sam couldn't have been more surprised if he hit a brick wall. "Wh...what?"
Dean cleared his throat. "Do you hate me?" he practically whispered.
"What would...I mean...why would I hate you?" Sam had no idea what was going on. Dean was really starting to scare him.
Dean blinked and swallowed hard. God, couldn't his little brother use his psychic sense just once and read his mind. Cause now that he started this he couldn't back out. "For Dad. Cause if I could...I would make things right. I'd bring Dad back to you."
Sam was dumbfounded. He was so shocked he couldn't even form the words. He watched as Dean hung his head lower. He knew his silence wasn't giving Dean the reassurance he was seeking, but he just didn't know where to begin. "Dean...man...I thought we were done with this. I don't hate you. I never have, I never could, and I never will. You believe me right? I mean, I'd give anything to have Dad back...but I don't blame you for what happened. And I sure as hell couldn't have made it without you."
Dean felt a sigh escape him, and a weight lifted. Then he shook his head. He knew this. He knew Sam didn't hate him. And why the hell was he suddenly acting like an emotional pre-pubescent girl? "Shit! Those bitches!" He suddenly screamed out, surging out of his bed.
Sam knew exactly what was going on. And he couldn't help but rib his brother. It probably wasn't the best time for it, but he needed to lighten the mood. And to bring Dean back to focus. He reached up and turned on the lamp bathing the room in an eerie glow. "So I'm guessing these chics are going to be beyond your magic charm?" He smiled.
Dean stopped his pacing and smiled back. "This sucks out loud. We're gonna fry them Sam. And I'm gonna smile the whole time."
"That's the Dean I know. So...what did they show you?"
Dean inhaled deeply. "Ah man...I think they know about the spell we're gonna use on them."
Sam shrugged. "It's the only thing I've found. So we don't really have a choice. We're just going to have to be quick."
"Yeah...but just do me a favor and..." Dean was interrupted when the lamp began to flicker. The room suddenly turned cold and the hair on the back of his neck stood up. "What the..." he began to say but was suddenly thrown back against the door. He landed with a loud thump on the floor. He looked up to see Sam falling backwards over his bed. A shrill scream filled the room.
"Dean!" Sam shouted, trying to make his way to his duffle bag and the weapons.
Dean scrambled up off the floor, intending to cross the short distance to his brother and their weapons when suddenly a wave of heat seared up and flames shot up between him and Sam. Dean threw his arms up protectively in front of his face. The flames were so thick he couldn't even see Sam anymore. The heat was intense and he found himself sweating. He couldn't believe that the whole place wasn't burning down around them, but the flames seemed to settle just under the ceiling, keeping between him and his brother. There was also a loud hum that made it impossible to hear anything but it.
"Sam!" Dean shouted. "Sam are you okay?" But Dean didn't get a reply. He was terrified his brother was unconscious on the other side, or already being burned. Without thinking any more about it, he began to step through the flames.
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Sam had fallen hard over the bed, hitting his elbow so hard on the night stand he was sure he broke it. Just as he popped up to see what the hell it was, the flames shot up. The last thing he saw was the surprise on Dean's face. Now, the there was nothing but fire. And intense heat. There was no way he was getting through those flames to Dean. "Dean!" he shouted, but could barely even hear his own voice over the hum. The heat was really beginning to get to him now. The flames seemed to have moved toward him, crowding him back against the wall. Not that he had much room to begin with. He couldn't find their bag with weapons any longer. He quickly ducked into the tiny bathroom, intent on wetting towels and wrapping them around himself to get through the flames. His arm was throbbing, but he ignored it. He didn't have time. As he leaned over the tub and turned on the tap to wet the towels he felt the hair on his neck stand up, and a breath against his neck.
"You won't have a chance. He'll be dead before you can get to him." the voice whispered.
Sam surged up, spewing a litany of Latin repelling rituals. The voice simply laughed. Then suddenly, he heard a small shout that was unmistakenly Dean. He ran out of the bathroom just in time to see his brother in the middle of the flames. "Dean! No!" he screamed. Just as he reached for Dean the hum stopped and the flames disappeared.
Dean immediately slumped to floor unconscious. Sam dropped to the floor next to his brother, frantically reaching for a pulse. He released a loud breath when he found it. The room was eerily quiet. There was no sign the flames had ever been there. Everything was back to normal. Except for his brother, who lay limply in his arms.
"Dean?" Sam called, tapping his cheek lightly. "Dean, wake up. Come on. Dean!" Sam received no response. As gently as he could, and without regard to his injured arm, he hauled Dean from the floor and after struggling for a few moments, got him onto the bed. With fear, he searched his brother for injuries and burns. As he looked Dean over he couldn't believe that he found nothing. No injury, no blood, and most amazingly, no burns. However, that didn't keep the fear away because Dean was still out cold.
Sam went into the bathroom and wet a cloth, bringing it out and putting it against Dean's forehead. "Dean? Nap times over. Wake up!" But his brother showed no signs of doing that.
Sam sat back, and inhaled deeply a couple of times, trying to calm himself. "What the hell just happened?" he whispered to himself.
As he sat, he looked around the room. He couldn't believe after all that fire and heat, there wasn't a sign that anything had happened. Everything was normal. Except it wasn't. As Sam looked around, he couldn't believe that they had forgot it. He jumped up, and as fast as he could, he lined the door and the window with salt. He then formed a tight circle around the beds. He grabbed his laptop and sat next to Dean. He needed more information. He needed his brother to wake up. He tried one more time to rouse Dean with no success. With a sigh, he sat across from him on the other bed opened up his laptop, and as he researched, kept a vigil on his brother.
-TBC-
Thanks somuch for all the reviews! I have been totally blown away. Your kindness is too generous! But please, keep 'em coming! (lol) See you next chapter!
