Umm. Hi! –Cowers mercifully- I know I haven't updated in a while, but, I uh... :) I do actually blame my dad. He keeps hogging the computer. Grrrr. Oh and I also blame the holidays. And the Supernatural box sets. AND the damn internet. Oh, and kinda myself for just being plain lazy ;) Sorry again and here is the next chapter! God! It's so short! Sorry!
Oh, one more thing, now this is a personal request. Can someone please become a umm, like pesterer (lol) for me? Give me a kick up the backside every few days or so to get me writing again? Pretty please?
-:0:-
"Say goodbye to your brother, Dean." Jack smiled crookedly before sending the metal pipe firmly into Sam's already coated-with-blood hairline.
He grinned and shivered in pure delight as blood splattered the pipe and his clenched fist. He dropped it loosely to the floor where it echoed with a sickening clang.
He pulled a face. "Shut UP!" he growled at the girl who's screams dinned the room. Her yells subsided slowly, becoming gasps, shuddering as tears dripped from her face onto the cold floor.
Turning, he made to walk out of the room, but ground to a halt as she spoke behind him.
"Monster!" she spat, glaring at him hatefully with bloodshot eyes.
He laughed loudly and turned to her.
"Oh love, if only you knew!" he chuckled at her, beaming as she lifted her head defensively. He shook his head and moved back to the door. He stepped out of the room and locked it with a loud bang.
As he made to walk, his hand slipped into his back pocket and pulled something out.
Dropping it in front of the door, he smiled triumphantly as the cell fell to the floor, banging against the metal of the door.
"Too easy!" He thought, sighing happily as he remembered the time he had done that before.
Flashback.
"Tamara Smith." He murmured to himself, "Beautiful name." chuckling, he added, "Shame really!" He looked down to the forlorn body that lay on the floor, twisted at an angle.
Seeing the lips blue and the skin pale, he stepped over her and lifted the fragile figure up.
Holding her in his arms, he turned on his heels and walked out of the wooden door that hung on its hinges behind him. He stepped onto the porch and down onto the gravel that crunched beneath his feet. Reaching the trunk of his car, he dropped the body and opened it up.
He smiled softly at the other two figures that lay next to each other. Bending down, he picked up the girl once more and placed her gently next to them. He stood to admire his own work before remembering he had a call to make.
Slamming the trunk closed, he walked back into the house and pulled his cell from his pocket. He relished at the blood making it slick.
Dialling the number, he waited as it rung. A soft beep and a grunt told him he had an answer.
"What?" a gruff voice said.
Smiling proudly, he replied. "It's Dover."
"Yes, I know. What am I, stupid?" The smile slid from his face a little.
"No, I-"
"Well?"
"Oh, it's done." The grin plastered his face again.
"Good. I have a new one."
Jack's face lit up.
"Who?"
"Little Sammy Winchester."
"Uh, did you say Winchester?" Jack frowned in recognition, "You mean tall guy, black hair. Nearly put a bullet through my head for knockin' into his kid?" He asked.
"Yes, that one. How many more do you know? He has got the tendency to be violent." Jack could hear the distaste in his voice.
"Hmm, well, just give me the-"
A scream rang out behind him, making him yell and turn around.
The windows smashed. Dozens of police officers swarmed through them.
He dropped the phone.
"Holy shit!"
End of flashback.
And now, he grinned, he had finaly got his boy!
-:0:-
"Say goodbye to your brother, Dean."
"What the-" Dean gasped, hands grabbing at the sides of his head, squirming painfully.
"Dean? What is it son?"
"Its-" he began, but cried out as his legs buckled beneath him. A scream, so loud, full of terror and pain resounded in his head.
"Sam!" he yelled before groaning and falling onto his hands.
He felt John's hand on his back and he grit his teeth. Looking up at him, a look of desperation shone in his features.
"I-I heard Sam. A- Uh, in my head. It- it was like he was right here!" He scrunched up his face in confusion. Taking a deep breath, he continued "He, w-was screaming, and I heard Dover. He, uh, he said say goodbye to your brother Dean!"
A pause, seconds of silence flew by, Dean looking at John, John frowning back. "Dad?"
His face couldn't have been paler. John took a breath, silently willing himself not to crack in front of Dean.
"You... uh... Dean?"
"Yes sir?" Question laced his son's trembling voice.
"I honestly don't know!"
-:0:-
"Sam, c'mon, please!" Rachael whispered desperately, trying for the millionth time to arouse him. Tears crawled, still, down her face. She knelt down, next to him, cringing at the blood on his face, flowing freely from a large cut on his forehead. She lent forward, gently putting her hands on his limp arm. Shaking him softly, she silently pleaded him. She watched as his face remained slack.
Chocking on a sob, she tucked her grimy hair back from her face.
"SAM!" she yelled loudly, shaking him even more vigorously. Suddenly his eyes sprang open and he gasped, coughing.
"Sam!" Rachael cried, before quickly helping him to sit up. He opened his eyes blearily and looked at her face. Coughing once more, he cleared his throat and turned to her.
"Holy crap that hurt!" he mumbled, voice cracking. He was enveloped in a hug by Rachael but groaned as she crushed his bruised or more likely broken ribs.
"Oh my God, im sorry!" she gasped, pulling away. She stared at him for a few seconds before hugging him again, being more careful of his broken form.
"Aww, no fun!" Rachael screamed, looking around for Jack, recognising the voice.
"You know, I always say, if you want something done properly... use your hands!"
Sam choked and cold hands wrapped tightly around his neck. He flailed his legs, grasping at the fingers, killing him. "Sam! No!" Rachael screamed, looking in disbelief as he was lifted right off the floor... and slammed backwards into the wall.
TBC.