Longer chapter than usual, but hope you guys enjoy it!
Dean examined the room again closely. He was staring into blackness once again, and realizing this, took out his flashlight once again. He took another, more close look around the room. He saw what was a tiny camera I the far corner on the ceiling. He likes to observe his own sick little games, he thought. He then saw the metal door. He focused it on the metal door. He tried pushing it in, but it didn't budge.
I'm gonna have to break this son of a bitch, Dean thought.
Dean climbed back up to the top floor of the hut-like place. He ran out the door, looking for a crowbar of some sort to use to jam open the metal door. He knew Sam had already fainted, seeing as there was no longer an answer on the other end when he had talked into the phone. He knew he had to get his brother out of their before hunting the raw head.
He opened the door of the old junker car, looking for a crowbar. He knew he had kept one in case a spirit apparition took place. It was the only long piece of iron he could get in this town. He stuck his hand under the driver's seat and felt the cool metal of the crow bar. He sighed in relief as his fingers tightened around it, bringing it around to himself.
Without shutting the door, he ran back into the garage, throwing himself down the steps. He felt pain course through his feet as it hit the concrete, but he ignored it, knowing his brother needed to be freed.
As soon as his feet hit the ground, he ran over to the metal door. He bent down onto his knees. He carefully wedged the flat edge of the crowbar into the crack of the metal. He started to push on the door, forcing it open slowly, not knowing how close Sam was to the metal, not wanting to hurt his brother. The metal made a loud creaking noise, and Dean wondered now about the raw head.
He had the metal open far enough that he could see Sam's familiar small figure and mop of brown hair. He sighed in relief that he had found his brother. Safe and sound, he thought. He tore the rest of the metal off the frame of the concrete, throwing the metal across the room once it was detached.
He looked at Sam, his face pale as snow, sunken cheeks, sweat beading from his head, his position of what looked like agonizing being in the small place for hours. He wasted no time, grabbing his brother by the waste and carefully pulling Sam out of the hole. Sam was still sleeping, but stirred.
Dean crushed his brother to his chest, pulling Sam's head into his chest, not wanting to let him go. He felt Sam's tiny body in his hands, realizing that if he had believed Ashley, that he would never feel this again, his brother's fragile and small body in his hands.
Sam's groan pulled Dean out of his dark thoughts. "Sammy?" Dean asked, cupping Sam's head with his hands, trying to look into his brother's eyes.
Sam opened his eyes slowly, but shut them immediately, feeling the searing pain coming back to his head. He brought his hands to his head, ignoring Dean's soft caress and pressing his hands over his ears as if some sound was making his head ache and he was aiming to drown it out.
Dean looked instantly worried, but didn't let go of Sam's face.
"Sammy, what is it?" Dean asked urgently, shaking his brother.
Sam let out a shriek of pain as his brother's slightest movement made the pounding in his head worse. The pain masked his voice as he tried to speak to his brother. He tried to speak, but his throat was too dry and he couldn't think through the pounding in his head.
Dean pressed his brother's head to his chest once again, wincing in guilt as his brother let out another shriek of pain, and ran to the steps, attempting to get Sam home. But before he reached the steps, out of nowhere, the air was blown from his lungs, and he was flung across the room. He hit the ground with a loud smack.
He looked up slowly, his back locked up and in pain. An ugly-looking figure was crouching over something…
"GET THE HELL OFF OF MY BROTHER, YOU BASTARD!" Dean screamed and launched up from the ground.
Just in time, the ugly shadow was on his feet and got out of the way from Dean's fist. Dean stopped himself before almost running into Sam's body, but he couldn't avert his eyes down, now wanting to see if his brother was dead or alive. The thing had been on top of Sam's body long enough to kill him. Dean knew this, but couldn't look until he killed the thing. Not until he got revenge.
The thing looked at Dean with intimidating eyes and started to run toward Dean, eyes wide with lust and mouth open. Dean side stepped easily, the thing running past him, but instantly stopping. Dean was confused.
This bitch wants a bite of me, he thought.
"Yeah, I know I look good, but c'mon, you really wanna piece of this?" Dean asked, trying to toy with the creature. He lunged at Dean once again, but missed. Dean then booked it toward the cave. There's a camera, this son of a bitch has to have a plug for his tv somewhere, all I need is water, he thought. He heard the creature lurking after him.
Dean ran for what he thought was five minutes before he reached another room. It was dimly lit, the walls dripping from what looked like bad plumbing and a television in the far corner. This one isn't very smart, surrounding himself with his own death, Dean thought. There was also a lever in the corner by the television.
He knew it wouldn't hurt to take a shot at the lever, hoping it would spray water. He waited patiently for the raw head to arrive in the room. When he finally did, Dean laughed a shrill and high laugh, trying to get the raw head's attention.
"Look's like someone needs to cut down on the meat, huh?" He asked, smiling. He was standing in front of the television, his arms crossed around his chest. The raw head got a fiery wild look in his eyes and ran at Dean once again with barred teeth.
When the raw head was a foot away, he stepped aside and let the creature collide into the tv set, running toward the lever. He yanked the lever down as hard as he could, and to his delight, water poured from the ceiling like a down pour of rain. Dean watched as the raw head was electrified with his head into the tv where the glass used to be, rather than strewn across the floor.
"Karma's a bitch." Dean laughed. He waited until the sparks stopped flying from the tv, looking at the raw head for any sign of life left in him. He was still. Dean knew the creature was dead.
He started on his way back to the mouth of the cave as he winced in pain when he made a move with his arm to shut off the lever. He looked at his arm.
His arm was covered in blood, glass sticking out from just above his wrist. He couldn't believe he hadn't felt anything before when it had happened. He knew better than to take it out now, but wait until he was back at home and had Sam safe.
I'm coming, Sammy, Dean thought.
Sam came to when he felt someone shaking him awake. He looked up, his vision blurred and his head still pounding as badly as before. "Sammy? Sammy? Can you hear me?" The familiar voice said. He clasped his eyes shut, trying to concentrate on the voice and the face.
He opened his eyes again and looked up into his father's face. "Dad?" he uttered softly. His dad smiled with tears running down his face.
"Oh, Sammy, thank god." He said. He hugged Sam to his chest, and Sam cried out in pain once again, the pounding in his head getting worse by the minute. John carefully looked at Sam. He felt his son's head, his head burning with fever.
Sam tried to sit up, successfully getting all the way up. John backed away from his son a little, giving him room to breathe.
"Sammy? Do you know where Dean is?" John asked. The though of Dean brought Sam back to his senses. He remembered his brother's voice coming from the cave and he glanced over at the cave. John followed Sam's gaze and nodded, knowing what Sam meant.
"Do you want me to carry you and take you with or will you be safe here until I come back?" John asked Sam. He didn't want to leave his son alone, but he trusted Sam with what he wanted to do. Sam could barely move, so he gave the answer that was best for him. "Stay here.." he uttered. He crawled over to the wall and layed his head on the wall, feeling the cool sensation that ran through him from the cold cement.
John looked at his son and saw the relief as Sam felt the cool wall. He knew Sam would hold out and be safe.
"Be back, Sammy." He said.
He started at the cave, running in and sprinting, determined on finding his elder son. "Dean!" he screamed. He waited a minute and got no response. He kept running. After 3 minutes, he slowed to a walk. He was about to yell out for his son again when he heard footsteps. "Dean." he whispered and started running again.
Dean's safe, alive, well, was all John could think as he ran.
Dean heard a faint cry for his name. Sam, he thought. It was the only person in there with him. He booked it, running as hard as he could manage. After two minutes of sprinting, his feet gave out. He fell to the floor, gasping for breathe. His lungs were in pain as well as his arm.
His arm was gushing blood once again, and all Dean had felt was excruciating pain shooting into his arms like spikes. C'mon, Dean, we gotta keep going, do it for Sammy, he thought. He got up, sucking in a breathe before setting off again, this time walking. He held his arm, staggering forward.
After another minute, he heard hurried approaching footsteps, he leaned against the wall, his breathe coming in and out faster. He was terrified, thinking it was another raw head that had come to finish him off.
His breathe became even louder to the point where he could no longer hear the footsteps. He leaned against the wall, and slipped down to the floor, laying his head against the cool cement. This is it, he thought, tears strolling down his eyes. I love you, Sammy, he thought.
Suddenly, he heard his name next to him. "Dean?" a familiar voice said.
"Dad..?" Dean asked in astonishment.
Dean reached into his pocket, searching for the flashlight. He quickly turned it on.
He saw his dad, drenched In sweat with worried eyes staring down at Dean. Dean stood quickly. He hated when his father saw him crying or when he was being weak.
His father pulled Dean into a tight hug. Dean couldn't help it. He let out a whimper as he started to cry once again. "It's ok, Dean." his father said, patting his son's back. He hadn't treated his son so gently since he was a kid. Dean quickly wiped away the tears and pulled back from the hug.
"How did you-" Dean started but his father cut him off. "Bobby told me that he saw the old car that I rented down at this house when I got back from the hunt and he said he hadn't heard from you guys, so I checked it out." His father said.
"Is Sammy ok?" He suddenly remembered his little brother's pain and agony from before.
"Dean, he's fine. He said he'd wait while I found you." Dean took a deep breathe and let it out, trying to calm himself down.
"What the hell happened, Dean?" John asked.
They set off on a slow walk again while Dean told John the events of the past few days.