Stubborn Survival: Gleason's Revenge

By: Coffeemaniac

Set between 2006-2007. John Winchester has been dead a few months. It's been eight weeks since Sam was kidnapped by Mark Foster and Richard Gleason

Rated M for violence, torture, mentions of child abuse, and mentions of child sexual abuse. The violence and torture are fairly graphic, the other things are not.

Reviews are welcome and encouraged.

Part 7

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Several hours later, night hung heavy around Dean as he drove back to the motel. He had dragged Carlisle's body deeper into the trees, walked back to the Impala to retrieve a shovel then walked back into the woods, dug a hole, dropped the body inside then set it on fire. Burning a recently deceased body took time and a strong stomach because burning meat smells like burning meat, human or otherwise. After Carlisle was as cremated as he was going to get, Dean covered him up in the makeshift grave.

Luckily, Carlisle's recent adventures had scared away hikers and campers. It would have been difficult to explain why Dean was digging a rectangular hole or burning a corpse. And since Carlisle had been law enforcement, Dean didn't need anyone remembering that they had seen him in the area.

He figured he'd been lucky as he pulled into a parking space. As he stepped out of the car, he noticed a beat-up looking pick up with a fitted camper sitting nearby. He recognized it and started to walk over when Bobby's voice stopped him.

"I've been waiting for you," the older man said.

Dean turned around with a confused grin. Bobby stood there looking serious with his flannel and ball cap.

"Hey, Bobby, what are you doing here?"

"I figured we should have a talk. You got a room here?"

"Sure, yeah. Come on in. I was just about to wash off and go grab some dinner."

"Yeah, that sounds about right," Bobby said.

Dean felt the older man watching him. He could see questions floating behind the bland expression. There was concern there too or maybe it was apprehension. It almost seemed like Bobby was waiting for him to snap.

Dean led the way into the small motel room.

"Have a seat," he said. "Let me take a quick shower and we can head out."

"You smell like smoke," Bobby said.

"I figured out the whole Big Foot thing. It was a skinwalker but the guy was a hybrid. Mom was human."

"I never seen that before," Bobby said.

"No. Me either. And you know what, I knew the guy."

"Who? The skinwalker?"

"Yeah, turns out it was the sheriff. Carlisle."

"Carlisle? The sheriff here? In Cayuga?"

"One and the same. He said he'd never hunted or attacked anyone before. But, then he started getting this need to hunt and that's when all the sightings started. He was about to break his 'no kill' rule again, mainly tearing me apart, so had to put him down. Truth is I think he kind of wanted me to."

"And of course you burned the body."

"Of course. I'm not an amateur."

"Sheriff Carlisle. I did not see that coming."

"I know," Dean said. He started towards the bathroom. "Okay, give me ten."

"Hey, Dean, where's Sam?"

"What is with you? I haven't seen Cooper since that last job. Why do you keep asking about him?"

"No, son, not Sam brother, Sam. Where is he?"

The last thing Dean heard before a burst of light ripped through his vision was Bobby calling his name.

When Dean opened his eyes again, his head felt sore as if someone had been playing basketball with it. His brain ached. He wasn't sure there was enough room in his skull to contain it.

The bed cushioned him and he was grateful not to wake up on the floor or on the pavement outside. He couldn't remember why he'd been unconscious but whatever it was had bruised something behind his eyes. It was nice to be in relative comfort after that.

"Hey, you still with me?" Bobby said.

Dean closed his eyes again. He blew out a slow breath and blinked his way slowly back into the light.

"Dean?" Bobby said.

"Yeah, I'm here," he said. His voice sounded gravelly in his ears.

"You know where you are?"

"Motel, right?"

"That was a pretty bad fit you had there."

"I don't remember. What happened?"

"Well, I…I asked you a question. Then you had what looked like a stroke and went down like a shot deer."

"Huh," Dean said, mulling over the description. "What did you ask?"

"Maybe put that on the back burner for a minute. I'm pretty sure the same thing happened earlier when I asked you on the phone."

"I don't remember."

"I'm getting that," Bobby said."Just try to relax for a bit. Get your sea legs back."

"You sure I didn't get clobbered? Feels like something tried to bash my brains in."

"I'm sure, Dean. I think what we got here is going to take some expert handling. I called a woman I know. She's not far away and she's coming over to take a look at you."

Dean started pushing himself to sit up. "I don't need a doctor, Bobby."

"She's not a doctor. Just bear with me, all right? Trust me."

"I do. You know I do. But, I'm not getting poked and prodded and stuck with needles. I just need a couple aspirin."

While Dean moved to stand up, Bobby stood back. The older man didn't try to stop him or interfere which Dean appreciated because he wasn't sure he could take on an angry kitten with his head pounding so hard.

Dean lurched into the bathroom feeling like his legs were going to crumble at any moment. He gave the door a quick nudge and it closed behind him. Like a starting shot at the beginning of a race, the sound of that door latching sent Dean's last three meals hurling out of his body. He barely made it to the toilet. By the time his insides stopped trying to move outside, he was kneeling and sweating.

"Christ," he said softly. He couldn't remember ever vomiting that violently.

He felt a cool, damp cloth across the back of his neck then a firm hand on his shoulder.

"There's some water on the sink. You need help getting up?" Bobby said.

Dean lifted his arm and Bobby dragged him gently upward holding on until he steadied. Dean flushed the toilet then looked at the shower.

"I think I need that."

"Good idea. Drink the water and brush your teeth. I'll throw some clothes back in here for you."

Dean nodded.

"Just take your time," Bobby said."Don't be stupid. If you feel like you're going to pass out again or you get dizzy or anything, you call out, all right?"

"I'm okay, Bobby."

"Yeah, well, let's not get crazy," Bobby said before he walked out.

Dean smiled fondly at his retreating back. He reached into the shower which was only a shower, not a bathtub and turned the water on. While it warmed up, he stripped off his smoke smelling, vomit splattered clothes feeling relieved just to have them off.

He stepped under the warm spray with a sigh. He brought the cool bottle of water with him and took a few sips. The headache that had been plaguing him was starting to diminish. As long as he didn't think about Carlisle's burning corpse or try to remember what Bobby had asked that caused his attack, Dean's stomach stayed settled too. He guessed that what he experienced was some kind of sudden, onset migraine. What else could knock him out like that unless he really had suffered a stroke?

Whoever Bobby thought he needed to see might have some answers but Dean wished he knew more about Bobby's suspicion. He understood that Bobby feared another attack but Dean didn't know of anything that could cause such a massive reaction.

As Dean allowed the water to run over the top of his head he realized that the episode he experienced was catching up with him. Hands trembling and eyes burning with exhaustion, he turned off the water and reached blindly for a towel off the rack. His fingers found one and he dried off. He stepped on to the thin mat lying on the floor and glanced towards the mirror. Fog hid his reflection and he was mostly glad for that. He guessed he'd find a pale impression of himself with freckles standing out.

True to his word, Bobby had left jeans, underwear and a t-shirt on the sink so Dean put some clothes on. He hadn't heard the bathroom door open or close which bothered him in a vague way. He felt vulnerable knowing that he was partially incapacitated. He supposed it was better to have Bobby there but he was used to taking care of himself.

With no socks he padded into the main room where Bobby sat on the edge of one bed and a woman sat across from him on the desk chair. Their knees were almost touching and Dean immediately felt like he'd walked in on some intimate moment. Both of his guests stood up as soon as he appeared.

"Dean Winchester, this is Audrey Mitchell," Bobby said.

Dean walked a couple of steps and held out his hand. Audrey shook with him displaying a strong grip and soft skin.

Dean wasn't sure how old she was. She looked like she might hover somewhere between forty and sixty. Her eyes were brown and set inside a face with just the start of crinkles around her eyes and mouth. Brown hair hung in waves at shoulder length with just a few strands of gray mixed in. She wore a green cloth in her hair that kept it pulled back. Dean didn't know what the cloth was called but if she had fit it around her forehead it would look like a hippie headband. He could see diamond studs decorating her ears.

She didn't look anything like Dean would have expected. Her bright, floral dress and green blazer completed a package that just did not match his image of whatever this woman was supposed to do for him.

"Audrey is a scryer," Bobby said. "She used to be a practicing witch but she's not in that field anymore."

Dean scowled and shook his head. "Bobby, I don't need my future told."

"Don't be short sighted, Dean," Audrey said. "I can do more than tell the future. I can look at the past as well. And with my background, I can generally reverse spells."

"I don't mean to be rude but I kill supernatural things, I don't…"

"Dean," Bobby said, warning in his voice.

"It's all right," Audrey said. "You have a lost memory, Dean. Something important. I'm going to help you find it. But, in order for me to do that, I have to search your past and find out where that memory went."

"How do you know I forgot something? I mean if I don't remember…"

Bobby walked over to stand in front of him. He said, "Trust me, son, you've forgotten something important. And when you try to remember it, you get zapped by some pretty serious conditioning. The headache, the collapse, those things are part of it. To steer you away from that memory."

"Nothing's that important. It doesn't make any sense."

"It will." Bobby patted his shoulder. "Why don't you have a seat so Audrey can examine you?"

Dean didn't want to sit down.

He hated the idea of a stranger rooting around in his mind. He didn't know if she'd take his temperature or try to invade his dreams but it made him uneasy. A legitimate scryer is capable of seeing past and future events. Kind of like a fortune teller or palm reader, they're sensitive to the world beyond the veil but a scryer is more focused. They tend to use crystal balls or power stones to hone in on particular events and then magnify the emotional or spiritual details in order to show their significance.

If Bobby was right and Dean had forgotten something or been conditioned to forget something, the kind of magnification used by scryers might be enough to give him an aneurysm. Or maybe Bobby was overreacting and Dean got hit harder by Carlisle than he realized. He was no stranger to concussions and sometimes they caused some weird problems.

But, Dean sat down as instructed anyway. He overrode his misgivings because he trusted Bobby. Besides he had a vague feeling that Bobby was right. He did feel like he was missing something. A shadow hovering just outside of his consciousness that danced around in the dark teasing him to remember.

Audrey picked up the desk chair and set it down in front of Dean. She smiled and took his hands in hers.

"All right, this is what I'm going to do. I'm going to say something that I believe will trigger an attack because I need to see the reaction. Then, after you settle again, I'm going to put you into a light state of hypnosis so that we can start counting back the days until we reach the point of significance."

"Don't you need a crystal ball?"

Audrey tugged the thick silver chain around her neck and pulled a starburst shaped crystal out from where it had been hiding under the top of her dress. The two inch stone was colorless.

"Are you ready?" She said.

"Let her rip," Dean said.

Almost immediately he started to feel pressure building behind his eyes. It wasn't the lightning bolt that he'd experienced before. It felt more like a warning to turn back. He kept quiet, not wanting Audrey to back off before they started.

"Dean, you have a brother named Sam Winchester."

The shaft of pain that shot through his skull crumpled him immediately. He thought he might have screamed but wasn't sure as he lurched forward grabbing his head with both hands. A set of arms wrapped around his torso and held him. Knowing it was Bobby, he leaned into the strength trying to hold back the blackness.

"It's all right, it's all right," Audrey said. Her words whispered through him and started to soothe the agony tearing into his head.

"Breathe," she said. "Nice and slow, deep breaths in and out."

He followed her directions almost as if he was being compelled.

"That's right," she said. "Nice and slow. Just listen to my voice and come back."

Dean's stomach twisted. He pulled violently to escape Bobby's hold and made a stumbling break for the bathroom. With eyes blurry from pain-filled tears and the threat of unconsciousness still hovering, memory guided him to the toilet where he spit up the water he had drunk and then dry-heaved for a few minutes.

Trembling with weakness and scared by the whole event, Dean pushed away from the toilet and leaned his back against the cupboard below the sink.

Bobby knelt close by and handed him another bottle of water.

"You all right?"

Dean just sent a glare at him.

"Okay," Bobby said. "When you're ready, come back out and we'll see about reversing this thing."

"I don't know what she asked me," Dean said. He thought he sounded weak and frightened.

"It's okay. She's the best at this, I promise. We're going to get it fixed."

As Bobby reached the doorway, Dean said, "This is important. I have to do this, right?"

"Afraid so, son. There's nothing bigger right now."

Dean leaned his head back and closed his eyes. The pain still hovered and his stomach still churned but he breathed and he sipped water because whatever his mind was hiding, it had to be recovered