Okay, here it is. The next chapter. Who will get to Sam first? Will he be saved? Can he be saved? Read on.....
Cindy.
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The classic, sleek black car shot down the snowy highway at a breakneck speed. The driver wore a look of determination coupled with desperation. His knuckles were white as his hands gripped the steering wheel. His jaw clenched as troubling thoughts raced through his mind.
"Dean!" his passenger cried as he gripped the armrest of the passenger door. He turned his head to the driver when he received no response.
"DEAN!!" he shouted.
The driver turned slowly to the passenger, his eyes bright with fear and anger.
"Dean, we can't help Sam if we're being scraped off the highway. You need to slow down a bit."
"We have to get there Bobby! We're running out of time," Dean replied, turning back to stare out the windshield.
"We'll get there, but not if we go off the road Dean!"
Just as Dean was about to reply, the Impala began to fishtail in the wet slush. Dean fought to gain control of the car as Bobby held on for dear life, wishing he had put on his seatbelt. After what seemed like an eternity, the car finally straightened out. Bobby looked over at Dean, who cocked an eyebrow and gave him a crooked grin.
"Okay Bobby. You win," Dean said as he slowed the car, but just a little.
Once Bobby could breathe again he turned to Dean. "Dean, I know you feel responsible for the trouble we're in now, but it isn't your fault."
"You're damn right I feel responsible! I should have been stronger Bobby. I should have stopped it!"
"Shit Dean! You were possessed. What exactly were you supposed to do?"
"Fight it harder than I did Bobby! I should have fought harder for Sam," Dean cried, slamming his fist into his thigh.
"Dean! Sam would be dead if it weren't for you fighting. That demon would have had you smother him, but you fought your way out and stopped it," Bobby reminded Dean.
"Yeah, I guess. But I should have done more. Sammy's out there alone because I was weak Bobby. Plain and simple."
"Dean..."
"No Bobby! You didn't see his face. I remember it all. The look in his eyes. He was shattered. But the last thing he said was that he loved me. After what I said and did, he still said he loved me." Dean turned his head to hide the tears that threatened to fall.
"Dean, I can't say that I know how you should feel. I wasn't there. But I can tell you this. Even if you were to cut off Sam's arm, he would still love you. And I'm willing to bet that deep down he doesn't believe it was you saying and doing those things."
"If anything happens to him, I don't know what I'm gonna do. He sounded so lost and sick. Bobby, we have to get to him. He doesn't deserve this! When is he gonna catch a break? Huh? Why do all the evil freaks go after him?" Dean cried, shaking his head in frustration.
"We both know why Dean. His abilities make him a magnet for the supernatural. He's like a beacon that they're attracted to. And then there are the ones who want to use him, to take his power. Sam was born with this target and it's up to us to watch his back as best we can and keep him safe," Bobby replied with conviction.
"Real great job I've done so far!"
"Hey, cut yourself some slack Dean! You've saved him more times than I can count. Nobody's perfect. We will get to him, and we'll send that bastard demon back to hell!"
"Bobby, there's no room for error when it comes to Sam. With the neon target on his back, I should know better than to ever let my guard down. But I did Bobby, and look what happened."
"You both have to live a little, otherwise what's the point?"
"Yeah, well what difference does it make if we don't find him before the demon does?"
"We'll find him Dean. We have time."
"How much further?"
"We should bit Colorado Springs in...uh, an hour and a half," Bobby said, looking at his watch.
"Hold on Sammy. We're coming" Dean whispered to himself, pressing harder onto the accelerator.
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Jack Daly stood in the livingroom of the abandoned house watching Sam's restless slumber. He savored Sam's pain and despair. He smiled as Sam cried out in his sleep, the vision playing in his dreams again. Jack licked his lips in anticipation of what was to come. Jack approached the couch where Sam slept, stopping just outside the salt line. He glanced down at the barrier and let out a humorless laugh before stepping over the line. He took two steps and stood over Sam's huddled body. Despite the coldness of the room, sweat coated Sam's skin and dripped from his hair. Shivers quaked through his body from the fever he suffered. He would cough and then moan from the pain the coughs produced. Jack slowly shook his head and lowered himself down to his knees.
"Now Samuel," he whispered. "We can't have you dying before your appointed time. My master would be very displeased."
Jack reached out a hand and placed it on Sam's forehead. Almost instantly the shivering and coughing stopped and the fever broke. Sam's haggard breathing evened out and his pained face relaxed. Jack removed his hand from Sam's forehead, then gently ran his fingers down the side of Sam's face and neck. Sam flinched at the touch, gasping in his sleep, before quieting once again.
"Sleep now Samuel. Your time is almost upon you. It will be an honor taking your life."
Jack rose from the floor then turned and left the room. Soon he would finish his task and the final and most important psychic would be dead. The 'chosen one'. The boy that would be king. But there was only room for one king; his master. And that was how it was going to stay.
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Well, that's it for now. I'm thinking I may have time to post another chapter later, after I fix dinner for the kids. I hope that's okay with you all. :)
Cindy.