Well everyone, here it is. the final chapter of In Transit. another story finished... it's always a little sad to see them go. lol. thank you all so much for the great, great reviews and for sticking with the story, I hope everyone enjoyed the ride!!
IN TRANSIT
Chapter 15
Sam stumbled, cursing as he fell forward once again. He needed to get to Dean, needed to make sure his brother was ok; but everything seemed to be trying to keep the pair apart. It was the story of their lives. Everything always tried to break them up, to steal one from the other, and Sam for one was getting tired of it. He shrugged off Raven's hand, pushing himself back to his feet. His entire body was shaking, his head throbbing, mind continuing to slip back into the nightmares. All he wanted to do was lay down and give into the void. But Dean needed him, he could feel it, and Sam refused to let his brother fall victim to whatever Pete had planned.
No, too much had been lost in the night, too much had been left in the dust, abandoned along the dusty road that was their lives. Too much had vanished, and Sam refused to let his brother slip away as well, refused to let the darkness claim someone else he loved. But time was running out, he could sense it, the minutes slipping away from him, running through his hands like water. He was losing, and he could feel every second of it.
"There." Raven stated, pointed to a dilapidated house sitting precariously on the hill.
Sam's moment a relief was short lived however; a gust of wind roaring through the canyon so strong, that it caused the still distance house the creak and moan, shingles and siding falling from the structure as the gale continued. The entire place was going to fall to the ground in a matter of minutes, and Dean was still inside.
Sam summoned what little strength he had, willing himself up the steep and muddy hill. He needed to get inside the house, needed to find his brother. Suddenly, the nightmares started again, so fierce that the younger Winchester was certain the Cur was near. He could sense it, feel it wrapping around his mind, driving deep into his soul, tearing away what little strength he had left. But this time, instead of seeing his brother beneath the train, he saw Dean standing in a darkened basement, Pete watching him with a crazed eye, knife in hand. And, at that moment Sam realized that this nightmare was actually in the process of coming true. He was going to watch his brother die through the eyes of the creature.
"No." Sam moaned, forcing himself to focus, his knees sinking in the soft mud beneath him. When did I fall? He blinked several times, his breath coming out in short, uneven gasps. He wouldn't let his brother go, wouldn't let Dean vanish from the world, disappearing on a cold set of train tracks. "It's there." Be bit out, forcing himself to his feet.
"What's there?"
"The Cur, it's at the house with Pete and Dean."
"How do you know?"
"Just, trust me." Sam mumbled, summoning what little energy he could, pushing his way back up the hill, back to Dean.
"If that's true, then you need to leave."
"Not without my brother."
"Then you'll both die."
"You don't know my brother and me." Sam stated confidently as they neared the house. It was true, where most hunters failed, where most hunters fell, Sam and Dean pulled through.
The young hunter stalked around the side of the house, following the footprints left in the mud. Two sets, Pete and Dean. His suspicions were right, his brother was in there with Pete, the man responsible for this whole stupid mess. The same man that seemed to have an unnatural interest in Dean. Sam still couldn't figure out why Pete wanted his brother, still couldn't find the link between the creature and Dean. But the link between the Cur and Benjamin, that was glaring.
Pete had done something up at the house, tried to work the magic Kathy had learned. But, somewhere along the way it backfired. Benjamin was the Cur and the Cur was Benjamin; the two being bound when Pete killed his brother. And now, well now the Cur was trapped, unable to leave because of its link to a still bound spirit. So, it did what it had been summoned to do, kill Ben's younger brother, although now, the thing just seemed to be confused. It was killing all younger brothers, regardless whether they belonged to Ben or not, and the only way to stop it was to release the spirit that had become trapped within.
And suddenly, with gut-wrenching clarity, Sam knew what Pete was up to. He didn't care if the Cur stopped killing, didn't care if it existed or not. No, all he wanted, all he could think about was freeing his brother, and that meant putting someone else in his place. Pete was going to trade the two out.
They were out of time, Sam could feel it deep in his soul. Pete was going to kill his brother, and then he was going to force the Cur into his spirit, rob his soul of peace, of safety. He was going to turn Dean into a killer, and Sam could feel every second as it slipped away. He had to get to Dean, had to stop it all, but he wasn't sure he had the strength to meet the Cur face to face.
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Dean stood motionless, his breath catching in his throat at the sight of the creature. But, instead of advancing, instead of ripping his body apart, it just stood there, studying him the way a toddler studied animals in a zoo. It was the weirdest thing Dean had ever experienced, and that was saying something. It was almost like the thing was trying to understand him, like it was trying to see who he truly was, to look into his soul. And Dean hated every second of it.
The older Winchester tried to move back, to step away from the creature, but he was held firmly in place by whatever trap Pete had managed to set. Dean's mind was running a mile a minute, trying to find some way out of the mess, some way out of the slowly crumbling building. But, all he could think about, all he could focus on was the Cur. It was like its eyes were bottomless pools of sorrow, of mistakes, of missed chances. He could see Benjamin in it, see the trapped soul, the broken brother. He could almost hear him, too, begging for release, for safety and for answers.
Ben had been just as in the dark as Kathy, both being nothing more then pawns in Pete's twisted life. Dean could sense the defeat rolling off the creature in waves, the sorrow almost deafening, pain drowning him. Mistakes, that's all they were, mistakes that piled up over time, festered over the years, and now, another mistake was about to be added to the mixture. Dean knew they didn't have all the facts, and he had known since before he and Sam had even gotten on the train. It was a mistake to rush into it, and now, Dean feared, it was a mistake he would never be able to fix.
He tore his eyes away from the creature, spinning back around when he felt a presence behind him. Dean ducked just in time, Pete swinging the dagger at him for all he was worth. The old man tottered and swayed at the edge of the ring, but kept himself from falling into his own trap. Dean cursed, kicking out at the man when he lunged again, his foot only able to make contact with Pete's hand. He couldn't get to him, could reach outside the two foot circle he was trapped in. And Dean knew that he could only bob and weave so many times, before Pete made contact.
"You can't win." Pete bit out, trying once again to slash Dean.
"Why do the bad guys always say that?"
"Just give in."
"Yeah, right." Dean growled, hitting Pete's arm with such force that the man slide across the room.
Pete just sat there, rubbing his arm, his eyes cutting through the defiant hunter before him. Dean couldn't help the shiver that ran down his spine, the icy breath of the Cur snaking over his shoulders, chilling him to the bone. It was almost as though the beast was waiting for orders, waiting to be led. But Dean didn't look at it, didn't break eye contact with Pete.
"You know." Pete began, still hanging back. "I could always to this the hard way."
"Oh yeah, because the easy way is such a walk in the park."
"You're not going to win. But, if you would rather both you and your brother die, then it can be arranged."
"Leave Sam out of this." Dean tried to stalk forward, his anger boiling. Sam was already hurt, already falling at the hands of the creature, already suffering because of someone else's mistake, and Dean wasn't going to let him suffer any more.
"I will, if you would stop fighting the inevitable."
"My brother and I aren't just gonna lay down and die."
"That's exactly what you'll do if you don't cooperate. No one knows you're here, no one knows about your brother. I could send the Cur after him, let it finish him. Then I could just leave you here. Do you know how long a person can survive without food or water?"
Dean just glared at the man before him, his anger coming off him in waves. Dean felt like an animal trapped in a cage, pacing back and forth, waiting for his chance to break free, to strike. He had to figure out a way out, had to find a weakness, a flaw in the plan. Because, there was no way he was gonna let Pete beat him.
"You can't effect the world outside that circle. Not as a living being, anyway." Pete answered, almost as though he was reading Dean's mind.
Well, there goes plan A. Dean thought, shifting from one foot to the other. "So, you got me. Now what? Gonna feed me to your brother the monster?"
"I'm going to trade. You for Benjamin."
"Why can't you just let Ben go, I mean, the creature's already don't it's job."
"That doesn't seem to matter anymore. It's confused. See, it's still killing younger brothers, but it's also holding on to Ben's soul. But, if I trade it with someone similar, the Cur will never know the difference."
"And what happens if you don't trade at all? Just grab your brother and run."
"Then I'll die."
"So, basically. You're trying to get your brother out of this mess because you feel guilty, but you're not guilty enough to just lay down and die and let the thing go. That pretty much it?"
Pete just glared at Dean, his eyes never blinking, body twitching with barely controlled anger. Dean knew he was right, knew what was running through the older man's head, but at that moment, it didn't mean anything. Pete was still going through with it and Dean was still trapped like a rat in a cage.
Dean stepped back on instinct when Pete began to approach, the hunter hitting the unseen force around him, unable to move more then a few inches. From the looks of it, the old man was done talking and seemed to be going back to his 'shooting fish in a barrel' mentality. And Dean knew, at that instant, that he was beyond screwed. He held his breath, Pete advancing on him with surprising speed. Once again, Dean bobbed before sliding as far to the side as he could, dodging the knife again.
He cursed beneath his breath when he felt the cool metal slice through his shoulder. He reached out with his left arm a second later, hoping to pull Pete into the circle as well, but once again he was too late. It was like something had taken over the rider, the old man moving faster then he should have; and it was really starting to piss Dean off. He regained his senses a second later, trying to push off the ground, his right arm both broken and cut. But, he was a fraction of a second too late, and he knew it.
Dean looked up into Pete's crazed eyes, the knife glinting in the light as it came down. Dean curled in on himself, doing his best to protect his head and neck. He could feel the Cur behind him, feel the cold air as it wrapped around him, digging into him, mere seconds before the knife. But, an instant before the knife met its mark, a gunshot rang out. Dean barely had a second to react before the Cur plunged, the icy air assaulting his skin as it move within inches of him. But, instead of stealing his soul, instead of forcing him into nightmares, it went for Pete.
Dean raised his head, watching Pete as he inched his way back across the floor, arm holding his bleeding side, his terror filled eyes locked on the Cur. The creature advanced with unimaginable speed, wrapping its arms around Pete, its nails digging into his head. Pete writhed on the floor, his hair turning whiter and whiter as he screamed, but Dean was powerless to stop it. All he could do was watch, still trapped in his small prison, the events happening around him painfully out of his control.
A few seconds later, and it was all over. Pete lay dead a few feet before him, the Cur slowly dissipating, leaving the spirit of Benjamin behind. It was a strange and solemn moment, Benjamin standing still and silent, soft eyes staring down at the body of his dead brother. There was no sadness in his eyes, no judgment, no indifference. It was just a man, just a spirit, just a brother watching over another brother as if he didn't understand, didn't see how things had come to be. And, a moment later, he was gone, vanishing in a single gust of wind, leaving a silent world in his wake.
"Dean?" Sam's weak voice broke through the heavy air.
Dean slid around on the floor, turning back towards the steps. The entire world had stopped in those few short seconds after the gunshot, but now, well now time seemed to be rushing by him. Sam was sitting on the steps, his lanky body leaning heavily on the rail, eyes closed, gun in hand. His skin was frighteningly pale, blood running from his nose, but he seemed to be breathing easier then he had been, and a few seconds later he opened his eyes, a small smile on his face.
"You just gonna sit there?"
"Uh, actually yeah."
"What?" Sam asked a moment later, his eyes sliding closed again.
"It's some kind of trap. I can't move."
"Are you serious?"
"No, Sam, I'm joking."
"Hang on." Sam mumbled, pushing himself to his feet.
It was only then that Dean noticed Raven; the old woman standing at the top of the stairs, her dark eyes locked on Pete. It was like she was frozen, the shock of what she had just seen stealing her breath away. She had known about it, all of it, but that didn't seem to have lessened the shock. She had known them, back when they were just men, just brothers, and she had seen what time and tragedy did to them. And Dean couldn't begin to imagine what she was now going through.
"Dean, what the hell?" Sam asked, nearing one of the candles. There were two rings drawn on the floor, a small one containing Dean, and another surrounding the candles. And, much to Dean's dismay, that seemed to be keeping them out of everyone's reach.
"Please tell me you can get me out of here, Sam."
"Uh. Give me a minute."
"Sam, I don't have a minute, this entire place is gonna fall to the ground."
"I think I have to put the candles out." Sam began, ignoring Dean as he looked through a book on the alter.
"Thanks for the head's up."
"Dude, I can't get at them."
"Blow um out, dude." Dean began, getting antsy despite himself. He was really getting tired of standing in a two foot circle.
"You try blowing them out." Sam countered, rubbing his forehead.
"You need holy water." Raven began suddenly, her voice quiet, yet still sharp.
"What?" Dean growled back, his anger rising again. She had known what Pete was planning, had helped him set up the rings, had lured them there.
"Holy water." She said again, still not moving from the stairs.
"How do you know?" Sam asked slowly, obviously coming to the same conclusion as Dean.
"You have to understand, I was just trying to help."
"Help what, kill my brother?"
"Please, Sam. I tried to talk Pete out of it, I tried—–."
"It doesn't matter anymore." Sam bit out, his eyes never leaving the woman. "Just hand me my bag."
"Why?"
"There's holy water in the side pocket."
Raven just stared at them. It was obvious to Dean that she had questions to ask, but one look at the brothers made her keep silent. She had done too much to them, too much to others, and now, after seeing the fates of Ben and Pete, it seemed as though Raven finally understood.
Sam poured holy water on all five candles, finally breaking Dean of the trap. It was a solemn victory to say the least. Two men were dead, brothers; and countless others had lost their lives all because of one man's love, and another man's secrets. It was a lose, lose situation, and the fact that he and Sam managed to walk from the crumbling house with only a few bruises was little compensation.
"Dude, I hope I never see a train again." Dean mumbled, holding a make shift gauze to his bleeding shoulder.
"Yeah? Then how are we gonna get back to the impala?"
"Son of a bitch."