Well, I did promise some action, didn't I? And an explanation behind the stalker/ex-boyfriend, and the librarian. So - here it is!! Thanks to everyone following this little fic and to Brigid Tanner for giving me that swift kick when I fall behind on updates, and for proofing these chapters. Those of you who enjoyed Lil' Sammy, hotshow and I are working on a non-amnesia sequel called Murphy's Law. It will start posting once this Sammie Rae fic is concluded in a couple more chapters. (Though I do have an idea for one after she's married and how they introduce George to the world she grew up in. Ya know - if any of you want to see that.)
Chapter 32
Sam covered his brother as Dean picked the lock on the side door to Rae's school. When the door creaked open, he motioned to Rae and Bobby hiding in the shadows. They slipped through right behind Dean. Sam followed, taking rear guard. Rae and Dean had both been to the library before, so all he could do was follow. Partway down the hall, Sam could have sworn he heard the door open again. He hissed to Bobby and made a motion indicating he needed to double back. Bobby agreed with a jerk of his whiskered jaw as Sam dropped back.
Sam held his pistol up, at the ready, as he approached the outer door. It was closed, just like they left it, but something still bothered him. Something just seemed…off. Sam inspected the area and all he could find was a bit of mud with a leaf stuck in it near the door. Any one of them could have tracked it in even though they did not cross any grassy areas, preferring to stick to the pavement so they would not leave footprints. Sam frowned. There was something wrong here, if he could just put his finger on it.
A dark, blurry form bounded out of the shadows, crashing into him. Sam felt himself propelled backward, slamming into the far wall. All the wind knocked out of him, he struggled to pull in a breath as he twisted in the grip of whoever or whatever had him pinned. In the light streaming through the glass doors, he could make out a snarling, angry face. Unfortunately, the face was not human, at least not completely. It had human features but was covered in fur and sported jagged, wicked teeth. Shit, he had to pick a full moon for this, didn't he?
Gunshots ricocheted in the hall, driving the beast away from him. Grateful, Sam took a deep breath and looked over at his brother's face. Gone was any indecision or anxiety that had been so prevalent lately. Dean was all business now. The creature darted off, running at superhuman speeds.
"Great," Dean growled, standing in front of Sam, "and me without any silver bullets. How about you?"
Sam took several deep breaths, shaking his head. "Didn't think we'd need any."
"You call that being quiet!" Bobby's harsh whisper demanded as he and Rae ran toward them. "What the hell happened?"
"Pretty sure it was a werewolf," Dean said, checking his clip. "And we don't have any silver on us."
"What about in the car?" Bobby asked, heading for the door.
Dean dug his keys out, tossing them to Bobby. "Check in the trunk. I ought to have a couple of clips in there."
"Right. Back in a minute." Bobby raced out the door at a full run.
"Hope he makes it back," Dean muttered, checking the shotgun he carried in the other hand.
Sam furrowed his brow at his brother. "Afraid the werewolf will attack him outside?"
Dean paused, giving him a strange look. "Didn't think about that. Shit, Sammy, go out there and cover his ass." Dean nodded toward the outside door. "Rae and I will wait here."
Sam hesitated a moment before heading outside. He saw Bobby dart across the street toward the library. Standing in the sidewalk in the shadow cast by an old oak, Sam decided to give Bobby about two minutes before going after him. Bobby might be an old fart, but he certainly knew this business. Probably even better than Dad did, Sam found himself admitting. But Dad had more nerve than any two hunters they had ever met put together. Sam checked his watch in the dim light. Thirty seconds. That left Bobby with a minute and a half to…
"Dad!" Rae's scream, so familiar to Sam he heard it in his dreams now, sent a frozen spike through his spine. He crashed back through the school door. No one was in sight.
"Dean! Dean!" Sam shouted, desperately trying to figure out what happened. The werewolf must have come back and Rae screamed a warning, but then – where were they? "Dean!" he screamed into the dark, empty building, his heart racing. "Rae!"
"Sam!" Dean's bellow echoed through the halls. Sam tried to follow it, but it seemed to come from all directions at once.
"Where are you?" Sam shouted, straining to hear something, anything.
"Library!" Came his brother's answering shout.
"Sam!" This shout was closer, right behind him as a matter of fact. Sam whirled around in time to see a clip arcing through the air toward him. He snatched it from its path, ejecting the one in his pistol and replacing it with the one loaded with silver bullets. Every time he used silver bullets, he thought of the Lone Ranger. Sam shook his head to clear it of distracting thoughts.
"Where are they?" Bobby demanded, breathing heavily.
"Library. This way." Sam headed up a ramp from the commons area. Ramps always led to the center of the school, and libraries were always in the center. He used to think it was symbolic, that education was centered around literacy, or that the library was the repository of the school's knowledge. Now he just hoped that theory still held true.
Bobby's breathing turned ragged as they charged up the ramp. Sam spared a single worried, backward glance as he raced ahead. Now he understood what Dean meant about hoping Bobby would make it, but now was not the time to worry about it. Sam charged ahead, rounding the next corner at top speed.
A furry shadow loomed over Dean, who was sprawled on the floor. Dean was not attempting to move, just staring at his attacker with a surprised look plastered across his brother's face. Sam pointed his gun at what he assumed was a werewolf, stepping steadily and slowly closer. His eyes flicked over his brother trying to make sure there were no bites. One side of Dean's face was covered in blood, from the gash marks on his temple Sam figured it was from the claws. No bites, he thought to himself, just no bites.
The werewolf sniffed the air, its head tilting toward Sam. As it took in Sam, he saw its eyes widen and heard it snarl. He was the target? What did he ever do to it? They had only been in town a couple of months. Sam stepped back, aiming for the creature's heart. As it lunged, Sam heard Dean's shout of "Sam!" He fired, hoping to hit close to his target. It landed on him, claws ripping into one shoulder. Sam tried to fight it off, wondering what was keeping his brother.
"He's my brother!" Dean's voice filled the hall. "Let me go!"
There was no time to process what he heard, Sam had a fight for his life on his hands and he was pretty sure this creature had no intention of loosing. It wanted him dead and to eat his heart. Sam struggled in its grip. He forgot how strong werewolves were. Why did he think it was a good idea to do this during a full moon again? And where was Dean? Sam managed to throw a glance toward his brother. Dean was still on the floor in nearly the same position as before, but he was yelling something that Sam could not hear.
As he barely managed to avoid the creature's sharp teeth, Sam saw another blur from the corner of his vision. Dean's body flew by, knocking the werewolf away. Sam took a deep breath, shaking himself. He raised his gun, but the werewolf was gone and there was a red streak from the place Dean had been lying to the point he rested against the wall now.
"How bad?" Sam asked hauling his brother to his feet.
With a groan, Dean said, "Not too bad."
"Liar." Sam offered his gun. Dean waved it away.
"Dean!" Bobby wheezed. "What happened?"
Dean leaned heavily against the wall. "Werewolf. That way." He pointed a hand red with blood.
"Damn, Dean," Bobby stepped closer. "You all right?"
Dean rolled his eyes. "Just get it."
Sam grasped his brother's shoulder, attempting to force him down to the floor. "Just rest here and try not to bleed out before we get back."
"Over there." Dean pointed at the spot he was in when Sam came barreling up. Sam supported most of his brother's weight as he helped Dean back.
"Why here?" he demanded, settling Dean on the floor.
"So I can talk to Elly. Now go." Dean leaned back against the wall, taking a deep breath. "Go!"
Sam, with a single worried glance back, rushed in the direction the werewolf left. As he raced down the corridor, Sam remembered this was a school. The creature could hide in any of the classrooms. He slowed, eyes scanning the floor. It left some mud when it came in, maybe it left another sign somewhere. Bobby seemed to have the same idea. Bobby motioned to the doors on the right. Sam nodded, he would take the doors on the left.
No sign of the werewolf. Nothing. Worried about Dean and Rae Sam headed back, Bobby close on his heels. They found Dean in the same spot, but now Rae stood guard holding Dean's shotgun.
"Did you get it?" she demanded.
Sam heaved a sigh, knowing how she and Dean would react. "It got away."
"Jeez, Sammy," Dean grunted, standing. "Can't even catch one little werewolf without me?"
Sam rushed to Dean's side, determined to help him out to the car. "Where did it get you, Dean?"
Dean stumbled, leaning harder into him. Sam caught the extra weight smoothly, not wanting Rae to notice. Dean chuckled, the way his brother always did when trying to make light so Rae wouldn't worry. "Barely a scratch. Nothing to worry about."
"Just the same," Sam insisted, "I'm driving and you're going to let Bobby check you out when we get there."
Dean scoffed, still letting Sam take a lot of his weight. "Yeah, like you'd be able to stop him."
Sam looked over to Bobby, who cocked his head to one side. "You either," Sam snapped to his brother.
Now Dean chuckled as they pushed through the outer door. "But I know better, Sammy." Dean grinned brightly.
"'bout time," Bobby grumbled behind them.
Sam kept a sharp eye out, expecting the werewolf to jump out of every shadow. The car was exactly the way they left it. Even so, Sam had Bobby check it out before he would allow Dean and Rae near it. He put Dean and Bobby in the backseat, forcing Rae to sit up front with him.
"Bobby?" Sam demanded as he pulled into the apartment parking lot.
"Help me get him inside," Bobby replied. Sam felt a surge of relief. That meant Bobby thought he could handle it, Dean didn't need a hospital.
"I don't need any help," Dean grumbled, his voice just as strong as ever. Of course, Sam had fallen for that more than once. Not this time.
Exiting the car, Sam tucked his gun in his waistband. He wrenched the back door open with more force than necessary, reached in and hauled his brother out. Sam wrapped an arm around Dean's waist, knowing he would have to support most of his brother's weight. Rae ran ahead to the door then waited just outside it, bouncing nervously.
"Sam? What's she doing?" Bobby whispered.
"She's not allowed to go in first," Sam explained patiently. "Dean's rule."
"Damn straight," Dean mumbled, head heavy against Sam's shoulder. "Never know what's inside."
"Dean, anyone ever tell you you're paranoid?" Bobby asked, moving closer to help.
"It's not being paranoid," Dean took a deep breath, "when everything really is out to get you." He released Sam to grab Bobby by the shoulder. "Sam, you check it out. Bobby and I will stand guard at the door."
Sam rolled his eyes, taking out his gun. "Fine." He saw Bobby take out the other handgun as he unlocked the door.
Sam entered their apartment. It was dark, they turned out all the lights before leaving. Everything seemed okay, but Sam had that prickly feeling on the back of his neck again and that sense of something being off. He flipped on the den light with his free hand, surveying the room cautiously. The door to his bedroom was ajar. Sam frowned, they kept that door closed at all times. The weapons bag was in there.
Sam kept close to the wall, making his way toward the hall. He glanced back at the door before making his move. Dean stood there, the other handgun loaded with silver bullets in his hand. Dean gave him a quick nod. If it weren't for the blood drying on his brother's face, right now Sam would swear he had not been injured.
Using his foot, Sam kicked open the door. Nothing. He peered around the corner, gun at the ready. Dean had his back. Even injured, Dean was more reliable than anyone else Sam could ever name. Even Dad. At least Dean was always there when he needed someone to watch his back.
Sam reached out to flip on the bedroom light. A thin, sickly yellow light so typical of motels and apartments flooded the small room. He scanned the room, looking for anything amiss. His eyes rested in the far corner where there was a shadow that did not look right. Sam raised his gun, pointing it at the shadow. A low growl emanated from the corner, followed by a blur of teeth and fur.
The gun kicked in his hand two, three times, before the shadowy blur of fur crashed into him, knocking Sam into the wall. Sam looked up into those wicked teeth and the odd thought about what it would feel like to be torn apart alive flashed through his mind. He heard two more gunshots and the werewolf slumped over him. Sam shoved it away. It landed with a heavy thud on the floor.
He stood, using the wall for support.
"Sammy, you okay?" Dean demanded.
Sam could not tear his eyes away from the still form on the floor. The fur disappeared, replaced with natural human skin and features. It was the guy he caught watching them, his stalker, probably Sarah's ex. Well, this was not going to look good.
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Bobby finished doctoring the knife with the dead guy's fingerprints and Dean's blood just before the cops arrived. Sam's shoulder was patched up and under a fresh shirt. Those wounds were mostly superficial anyway. He was more worried about that blow Dean took to the head.
Interesting cover story Dean came up with. They claimed that Sam's stalker broke in and held Dean and Rae at knifepoint and proceeded to torture Dean in order to learn where Sam was. The fact the guy was naked? Well, that pretty much summed up why Dean was so worried and tried to keep all the stalker's attention away from Rae, not even shouting or screaming as he was being tortured.
The paramedics patched Dean up on the scene and said he did not have a concussion. They wanted him to go to the hospital, but naturally the stubborn boy refused. Bobby considered trying to force him, but after seeing the stricken look on Rae's face at the mention of the hospital, he decided against it.
Bobby closed the door as the last of the police and paramedics left. "Hell of a cover story there, Dean."
Dean chuckled from the couch. "Worked, didn't it?"
Bobby shook his head, that boy was really a piece of work. "How's the shoulder, Sam?"
"Fine, Bobby. Thanks." Sam sank into the couch next to his brother. "Dean? How are you feeling?"
"You heard the paramedics, Sam. It's fine." Dean protested.
"Actually, what they said was that they would like to give you a saline IV, to help replace the blood you lost." Sam glared at his brother, not that Bobby blamed him.
Dean's head whipped around, searching the apartment. "Where's Rae?"
"Bathroom," Sam snapped. "You should be in the hospital."
Dean scowled. "You know how that freaks her out," he hissed.
Their argument was interrupted by a scream from the bathroom. Since he was still standing, Bobby beat the brothers to the bathroom door. "Rae! What's wrong?" He pounded on the door, his hand mimicking the way his heart pounded against his chest.
The door cracked open and Rae's shocked face appeared. "I need to call Amy's mom."
"What for?" Dean demanded, pulling him aside.
The door closed, one hand still sticking out. "Phone."
He watched Dean's face redden and the vein in the unbandaged temple throb. Sam's hand thrust between them, slapping a cell into her outstretched hand. Rae's hand disappeared followed by the bathroom door slamming in their collective faces.
"Back up, Bobby." Dean took a step back, foot raised in that classic door-kicking-in mode.
"Wait, Dean." Sam pulled him back. "Maybe it's, uh, a girl thing."
Dean turned, his face pure confusion. "Girl thing? She's thirteen. What kind of girl thing?"
Sam shrugged. "I'll ask Karen later." Bobby had the distinct feeling that Sam knew exactly what kind of 'girl thing,' but did not want to tell his brother. Looking at Dean's still beet-red face, Bobby couldn't say he blamed Sam.