Chapter 13. Lights Out
Sam frowned in his sleep as he was rocked to the side. The thirteen year old opened his eyes and immediately remembered where he was. He sat up and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. The teen couldn't believe he had been asleep for so long. He had fallen asleep almost as soon as Caleb had taken over driving and by the look of the light coming through the car window it was early morning. Caleb was still in the drivers seat and from what he could tell Dean was still awake and the two hunters were quietly talking as Caleb sped along what appeared to be suburban streets. Were they already in Lawrence?
"Where are we?" Sam asked around a yawn.
"Glad you finally decided to join us runt." Caleb quipped, glancing briefly in the rear-view mirror at the youngest Winchester.
"Seriously man."
"We're in Lawrence Sammy." Dean supplied tiredly. "We're almost at Mike's house." Missouri had called back during the night to give them both Mike's work address and home address to save them some time with looking the guy up when they arrived.
"Really?" Sam sat up straighter in his seat and looked out the car window at the passing scenery. The interest in visiting his family's old home town still very present.
Sam studied the houses in the quiet neighbourhood and wondered whether their old home was close to here. He figured it couldn't be too far away considering they were obviously heading for his dad's old friends house and he assumed that the two of them would have lived close enough to each other and work. As Caleb negotiated the streets faster than the recommended speed Sam couldn't help but wonder what it would have been like to grow up in this town with a normal family. Sometimes he envied Dean. His brother had been four years old when their normal existence had been shattered. Old enough to remember what it was like. He wished he had some memories of his own.
His thoughts went to his father. It was worse not knowing what they were walking into or even if they had enough time to change the events in Caleb's vision. Dean's headaches had been worrying him also. It hadn't gone unnoticed by the by that Dean's headache warnings had started after his concussions but he had decided against trying to convince his brother about seeing a doctor, knowing that Dean would not willingly see a doctor unless his father ordered him to or he was dying.
Dean's groan from the front passenger seat interrupted Sam's thoughts and the teen turned to look as his brother brought his hand up to his head.
"Deuce?" Caleb looked at Dean with concern.
"It's nothing. How far away are we now?" he asked trying to ignore the creeping headache. Usually they didn't get any worse than a constant annoying throb but this headache just seemed to be climbing higher and higher.
"We're just about there. Caleb replied. His frown deepened when dean winced in pain.
"Aghh … God!" the now eighteen year old folded over in his seat as he clutched at his head. "Deuce!" Caleb called as Sam also called his brothers name.
Caleb slammed on the brakes right in front of the Guenther household and immediately exited the car and raced over to Dean's door, wrenching it open and taking hold of Dean's shoulders. "Deuce … Dean!"
Caleb tried to get the kids attention, not liking what he was seeing. Dean looked very similar to what he looked like when he was having one of his visions, only without the vision.
"Dean!" Sam called frantically from the backseat. "Caleb?" he called, looking at the psychic for answers that the man didn't have.
The pain in Dean's head had hit higher than any of his others had so far and he hadn't been aware of anything at that point but the pain in his head. Caleb and Sam's concerned voices had faded away and he couldn't see, hear or feel anything but the sharp hot pain slicing through his head. He couldn't ever remember a headache being this bad before and he audibly sighed with relief when it started to ebb away. When he was able to actually think again he found himself wondering if that was anything like what Caleb felt when he had a vision. If it was then he really did pity the man. He became aware of two voices calling out his name and he realised that he had probably just scared the crap out of Caleb and Sam, especially Sam.
"Dean, God Damn it! Answer me!" Caleb ordered when Dean had seemed to calm down, giving the boy a shake for emphasis.
"What?"
"Are you okay?" Caleb had been worried when he couldn't get a response from Dean and Sam looking to him to fix the problem wasn't helping.
"I'm fine." Dean's tightly shut eyes opened and he realised that Caleb was still holding on to his shoulders he shrugged off the hold and rubbed at his still aching head.
"Dean, what happened?" Dean looked at his friend and winced. The psychic normally stuck with calling him Deuce but he had called him Dean a few times in a row now, symbolising how much he really had been worried. He could feel Sam almost hanging off the back of the front seat trying to get close to his brother to make sure he was alright. Dean halted his progress with a hand to the kids shoulder and Sam sat back down, his eyes not leaving Dean's face. "I'm fine guys but …"
"But what? Caleb asked, keeping eye contact with Dean.
"But we need to hurry. We're running out of time."
"How do you know?" Sam enquired from the back of the car.
"I can just feel it." Caleb moved back to give Dean room to get out of the car. "I get a headache whenever I get the feeling that something's wrong." As soon as Dean was standing Caleb stood up from his crouch. Sam opened the back door and stepped out of the car also.
"That doesn't sound good."
"Ya think?" Dean replied sarcastically.
"Look lets just see what this guy has to say." Caleb looked towards the yellow house.
Dean ran a shaky hand over his short hair and nodded and then looked at Sam and Caleb. "You guys do realise that its barely four in the morning." Sam pointed out.
"That's his bad luck. Stay in the car Sammy." Dean ordered.
"Why?" Sam cried.
"Because I said so." Dean snapped. He suddenly squeezed his eyes shut tightly and brought his hand up to his temple. The pain in his head almost causing the little bit of beef jerky he had consumed in the car to make a repeat performance.
Caleb steered Dean back to the passenger seat and sat him down and waited anxiously for this attack to end. A few moments later Dean's breathing returned to somewhat normal and he opened his eyes and looked into the concerned eyes of his friend. Sam was standing right behind Caleb, almost on top of the poor guy trying to see if his brother was alright. "It's cool. I'm okay." he tried to assure them as well as himself.
"No it's not and no you're not." Caleb patted Dean's knee and then stood up. "Both of you stay here."
"Caleb, I'm fine." Dean protested. His pale colouring said otherwise.
"Dean, you're staying and that's final. I'll be back in a few minutes." Caleb turned to leave as Sam grumbled his way back into the backseat of the Impala. He shook his head at Sam's mutterings of how this wasn't fair.
"Dude, you cant stop me from coming with you." Caleb turned back around and saw Dean sitting, facing towards him with his feet on the curb. "Kiddo I can so take you and you know it." He smirked and then a serious look came over his face. "The faster we get this done the faster we find John. Just let me handle this and we'll be on the move again."
Dean gave a frustrated sigh and crossed his arms over his chest looking all but five years old before wincing at the still lingering headache. "Fine, just hurry up."
Caleb rolled his eyes and decided he wouldn't mention that if the boys hadn't been so bitchy at him he might have already been on his way back to them with the information they needed.
Sam watched Caleb walk up the small house and then up the porch steps while Dean leaned his head on the back of his seat and closed his eyes. Sam's attention went back to his brother. He wasn't sure who he was more concerned about at the moment. His father or his brother. Dean's pale pallor and pained frown had him worried about what was going on with Dean's head and the effect it was having on his health. "Dean are you okay?"
Dean sighed. He was already sick of hearing that question and knew that he hadn't heard the end of it. "I'm fine, Sammy."
Caleb knocked on the brown wooden door all the while wondering how a simple birthday visit had turned into a search and rescue. Only in their screwed up lives could this happen. Dean's headaches were a worry also, especially considering the kid seemed to think they had something to with what was happening with John. He was seriously considering calling his father and seeing what he thought might be happening with Dean. The man was a neurosurgeon after all.
When no-one came to the door immediately Caleb raised his fist and pounded louder. They were kind of in a hurry and Caleb hated waiting at the best of times. Eventually he heard footsteps and shuffling come from inside the house just before the door was opened to reveal a bleary eyed man. "Excuse me Sir, I'm Detective Scott." Caleb flashed the still half awake man his fake badge. "Are you Mike Guenther?"
"Um yeah … do you have any idea what time it is Detective?"
"I apologise for that Mr. Guenther but if you could answer a few quick questions I'll get out of your hair," Caleb said falling into his professional mode quickly.
Mike scrubbed a tired hand over his face and looked at the young man standing before him. He had dark longish hair and was wearing faded, worn jeans, an old t-shirt under a well worn brown leather jacket. He only looked in his mid-twenties but it was two early in the morning for Mike to really question it. He nodded and leant against the doorway.
"Thank you." Caleb pulled a notepad out of his jacket. "Did a John Winchester come to see you yesterday?"
Mike frowned. He didn't know what he had been expecting but questions about John after all this time hadn't been it. John's brief visit had haunted him all night. He hadn't been able to sleep much after what John had told him, despite the fact that didn't exactly believe in ghosts but the man had disappeared only to return over ten years later to tell him that the ghost of some guy wanted to kill him. It had disturbed him to say the least. And now the police were asking about him. "Sir, did John pay you a visit?" Caleb asked when Mike seemed to drift.
"Yeah, what is he in trouble?"
"Nothing like that, we just need to talk to him. Do you have any idea where he might be now?"
"I'm sorry, I don't have a clue."
"Did he say anything?"
Mike nodded. "Actually yeah. He was asking about an old acquaintance of mine."
"What's your acquaintance's name?"
"Carlson. Gaylord Alan Carlson."
Caleb wrote the name down on the pad and then gave a tight smile to the shorter man. "Thanks for your help Mr. Guenther. You don't happen to have an address do you?"
Mike nodded and held up his hand. "Wait here and I'll see if I can find it." Caleb watched the man walk inside the house. He wondered what the story was between John and this man. Missouri had explained briefly to him that they'd had a falling out and John had taken the boys and left. Caleb looked back to the car and saw that Dean was leaning back against the seat and Sam was leaning forward on his arms next to Dean's head. It looked like they were talking but it was hard to tell from the house.
"Here you are, this is the Carlson's family address. It's the only one I have." Caleb turned back to Mike and took the piece of paper from his outstretched hand. "Thanks, you've been a great help."
"No problem." Caleb smiled a quick smile in Mike's direction and then turned away without another word and headed straight for the boys waiting in the Impala.
Mike watched as the young dark haired detective walked away and got into the black … black Chevrolet Impala. John had had a car just like that. He squinted, trying to get a better look. The car looked exactly like John's had. He could make out two boys sitting inside of it and Mike got the feeling that the young man he had just spoken to had not been a cop at all. As he watched the black classic drive away Mike was willing to bet that the car had been a 1967 model, still owned by the Winchesters.
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John held back another cry of pain as he was thrown into an old rickety table, collapsing it with his weight and the force of which he had been thrown into it. As he hit the ground his injured leg, which had recently been impaled by a garden pick, jarred and sent spikes of pain up and down the limb. Before he really had a chance to think about it he was lifted into the air and slammed back down again. His hands which were still bound behind his back took the full brunt of the impact. He heard and then felt a snap in his right wrist and then the burst of pain from the break caused him to cry out, not being able to hold it in.
He tried to roll off his hands to ease the pressure on his now broken wrist but a kick to his head halted his attempts, making him see stars.
"How are you feeling John?" Gaylord Alan Carlson laughed maniacally at John's lack of response. He didn't have to hear John's pain to know it was there. He had been working the hunter over for the last ten minutes and the pain was written all over his captives face. The look was sweet to Carlson. It was so much better than any of the others that kill had killed in revenge. John's suffering was like heaven. The bastard was finally getting what he deserved for killing the love of his life.
"Ya know it's pretty ironic. I decide to start dishing out some justice and then you show up in town. It couldn't have been more perfect." Carlson picked up the gardening pick again and brought it down hard and fast against John's vulnerable stomach.
John groaned and tried to fold in on himself but straightened up straight away as the movement only served to grind his wrist into the ground. He looked up at his captor and glared, gathering up his strength John kicked out hoping to swipe Carlson's legs out from under him.
Carlson laughed at John's attempt at fighting back when John's leg passed right through him. John gave an angry growl. As Sam would say, this really wasn't fair. The spirit could do what he wanted to him but he couldn't touch the spirit. He was really craving for a rock salt loaded shot gun right about now as Carlson leaned in closer to John once again revelling in the pain he had caused the hunter. "Actually you know what would be even more perfect?" Carlson asked. "Taking your son's out with you. I wouldn't even bother having a little fun with them like we are now. I would just take them out."
If looks could kill John was sure that Carlson would have been a sent to hell ten times over. "Go near them and I will kill you." he threatened seriously.
"You and what army? You cant even protect yourself John, how are you going to protect them. They deserve to die just like their father. None of you were good enough for Mary."
"I'm warning you Carlson." John growled.
"Your wasting your breath John," Carlson responded. "Time for lights out." with that simply said John didn't have time to think about what he meant before the wooden end of the pick was smacked down on his face hard and fast, twice. Literally putting the lights out in John's head.
Carlson smiled down at John. The next time he came to play with the hunter would be the last. Fun time was over and it was time to get down to business. With a single thought the cabinet that had been standing against the wall cam crashing down on top of the unconscious man, sending everything that had been sitting on the shelves down on john as well. Carlson smiled one last time at the wretched man before him. He was excited at the prospect of finally ending his life but he would have to patient. It wouldn't be long now. With that last thought Carlson vanished from the room leaving John's unconscious and beaten form alone dark cold basement.
TBC ...
So there it is ... the boys are getting closer. You are probably all wondering how they are going to think of looking at the old Winchester house. Will Caleb or Missouri have a vision? All will be answered very soon. Let me know what you thought :-) seeya soon :-)