Thanks again for all the great comments and for taking the time to read. Hugs, Ember
Chapter Twelve
I'd never even began to comprehend how much I'd miss and need someone in my life until the moment I'd caught myself breathing and it didn't sound right because I didn't have Sam's steady breath to synchronize my own to. For my entire life I'd been matching my stride to Sam's – when he was younger I slowed my steps so he could keep up, and then as grew and kept growing we fell into a natural pace without even realizing it. So how could I just leave him there . . . how could I let him stay alone in that hellish version of reality?
And now I'm left with the choice of trying to save him or my father. My gut tells me it's a no-brainer. Save Sam. It's what my dad would tell me to do. Not that he's telling me anything at the moment as he still isn't answering his damn phone. You'd think he'd get the hint that something is definitely wrong with ten calls in a matter of twenty minutes.
I'd tried talking Bobby into going after my dad, but after hearing only a very watered-down version of where Sam was, he staunchly refused to allow me to deal with Devin on my own. And although I'd never admit it aloud, I was more than just a little relieved.
I've seen a helluva lot of things in my life – truly horrible things that no one should ever have to witness, but after hunting practically my entire life, I'd believed I was well beyond being terrified by anything. I was wrong. The images of my dad and mom. The overwhelming scent of death. The screams and cries of the dying. They were all burned into my mind. And whenever I closed my eyes, I once again saw Sam lying dead in my arms. Of all the things Devin had forced me to witness and endure, watching helplessly as Sam drew his last breath – I wanted it to be me instead. I've known a lot of pain in my life – but it was nothing compared to the feeling of losing Sam . . . it was as if someone had taken a sledgehammer to my chest . . . I couldn't breathe – didn't want to breathe.
My heart clenched painfully as a lone tear trailed its way down my cheek. How could I have not protected him? How could he have been so close, and I still couldn't save him?
No, I won't let that happen to you, Sammy. I won't let you die on me.
"You still with me, Dean?" Bobby asked, pulling me from my thoughts, and at that moment I was glad he'd been as stubborn as ever and insisted on driving.
I'd been so lost to all the horrifying visions Devin had shown me, I'd forgotten we were even in Bobby's truck driving along the darkened highway. Straightening in my seat, I glanced out the passenger's side window, and saw nothing but endless snow. "Where are we?"
"About ten miles from Fargo." Bobby's grip tightened around the steering wheel as he pressed his foot a little harder against the gas pedal.
My stomach twisted in knots as I mentally calculated how much further we had to drive. Taking into consideration the falling snow and the slick roads, it would be nearing morning before we reached Grand Forks. We wouldn't make it in time. By now Devin had to know I was on my way to save Sam, and would make good on his promise to kill him before I had the chance to stop him.
"I shouldn't have left him, Bobby. There's no way in hell he can survive in that fucked up reality – not by himself."
"You had no choice. If you'd stayed there, you'd both be dead." Bobby glanced briefly in my direction, but as the lights of an oncoming car shone though the front windshield, he refocused his attention on the road. "And if your brother hadn't convinced you to come back here to finish this, I would've dragged you out of there myself."
"You don't know what it was like there," I uttered, wiping away the moisture gathering at the corners of eyes. Although I'd told him some of what had happened while I was astral projecting, I'd purposely left out the part about him and my father both being impaled on thick steel posts, rotting away as their blood helped forge a river of crimson beneath their feet. "The things I saw . . . the things I felt, they keep running through my head, and I can't make them go away no matter how how I try. So how's Sam supposed to survive that?"
"I dunno." Bobby breathed a heavy sigh. "But you have to get your head into this hunt or your not gonna do your brother any good."
My mind was so scattered with everything I'd seen in the other reality along with worrying about my dad, and also trying to figure out a way to save Sam, that was a whole helluva lot easier said than done. But Bobby was right. If I couldn't pull myself together, I'd be putting his life at risk as well as Sam's.
If my dad had only answered his damn phone for once – if only I could've just talked to him. He would know what to do, he always knew what to do, while I took everything on a wing and a prayer. I'm a damn good hunter, better than most, I'd say, but I get lucky a lot. So what if my luck's run out, what if this time I lose everything? What if this is the time I get not only myself killed, but Sam, Bobby and my dad killed as well?
"Why couldn't he just answer his damn phone, Bobby?" I looked to the older hunter who'd always been there for both me and Sam when my father was MIA. "I don't even know if he got my messages . . . hell, the shifter could have already gotten to him, and I wouldn't even know it."
"John can take care of himself, Dean, you need to keep focused on your little brother." Bobby rubbed thoughtfully at his beard as he kept his sights on the road. "That shifter told me that ya killed his brother, an' with Sam's memories of you, he knows how to make ya suffer – he wants to watch you suffer. And from what I can see, you're playing right into his hand."
"I killed his brother?" My brow lifted momentarily in confusion, and then I recalled the shifter who Sam and I had buried with my name etched into the gravestone. "I didn't even know Shifters had family cause if I had the damn thing would've been dead by now."
"That sonuvabitch liked to talk, an' gave me a damn earful about how easy you an' your brother were." With another weary sigh, Bobby shook his head. "Said he'd been following you both around for quite a while, switching bodies so he could listen to your conversations an' study you to find out what your weakness was – well, he found it alright." Shifting slightly in his seat, he glanced in my direction. "An' believe me, Dean, I get it. If I had a brother I would kill or die for him just like you would for Sam, but it was only a matter of time before someone used it against you. So unless you start thinking an' acting like a hunter, he will take everything from you."
My stomach flip-flopped at the mention of the shifter following us around, especially knowing that Sam could very well die because of its grudge against me. Every time I'd protected my little brother, every show of concern, every look or glance I made to make sure he was at my side and alright, the shifter used against me. So if Sam died, it would be my fault, and that was the best revenge anyone had ever taken against me.
I fell silent, I couldn't speak. Hell, I could scarcely keep the bile that kept rising in my throat from making a hasty exit. My hands trembled so badly, I had to tuck them beneath my arms in hopes Bobby wouldn't notice, but the older hunter always saw everything even if he had the decency not to make mention of it.
By the time we reached Grand Forks, I was in worse condition than my Impala. The silence that had settled between myself and Bobby along with mile after mile of what seemed to be an endless highway, had left me a complete wreck. Guilt gnawed away at my brain as I questioned and requestioned every hunt I'd ever been on. I'd always thought I'd been protecting Sam. It was the one job my father had given me to do, and it was the one job I was really good at. But now I wondered if the unbreakable bond we shared – how we looked after each other and the unspoken truth between us that we would both die for each other – was that the thing that would be the end of both of us?
"Get off at University Ave," I muttered, gesturing toward the offramp, and with a nod of his head, Bobby pulled off onto University Ave. "The accident happened on the corner of University and North Columbia, so keep going straight."
When we reached North Columbia Road, I had him turn onto the street, and then pointed to where I had seen the green Explorer parked. "Devin was heading North, so from what Sam told me, it's about a twenty minute drive to wherever he is, and he thought they only turned once. So we keep driving till we spot a green SUV and a rooster weather vane on the roof of an old abandoned house."
"Gotcha." Bobby pressed lightly on the brakes, slowing the truck down so I could study every car and house as we passed them by, and after about fifteen minutes I gestured for him to turn onto 6th Ave. N. figuring with road conditions, that was about as far as they would have driven in the amount of time Sam had given me to go by, but didn't spot any houses that looked like the one Sam had taken me to.
"Go to the next street." Sam might have been wrong, he had just been in an accident, so it was possible he had misjudged the distance because he had hit his head and was confused.
"Alright." Bobby made a quick turnaround in a driveway, and headed back toward North Columbia, and within a matter of seven or eight minutes, he took a left onto 8th Ave. N.
Once again he slowed the truck to a crawl as I resumed the search for the house, and as we neared the end of the road I spied an copper-colored weather vane atop of an old dilapidated home. A brief smile flitted across my face as I saw a green Explorer parked in the driveway. Bobby pulled off to the side of the road, and within a matter of moments we were both out of the truck and heading toward the front steps of the house.
We both pulled the guns from our waistbands, and I took the lead as we crept inside the house. Without a word, I pointed toward the stairs, and Bobby followed as I took the steps two at a time. At the landing, we paused briefly to listen for any signs that Devin knew we were coming, but when we heard nothing, we continued down the hallway. The door leading into the room where Sam was being held creaked loudly as I slowly turned the knob and pushed it open, and I cringed at the sound of it announcing our arrival.
From where he stood hovering beside my brother, Devin turned his head to look at me, and then he smiled. I chanced a glance at Sam and he was so still and pale it stole the breath from me.
"That didn't take you very long at all, did it, Dean. I'd actually figured it would take you another hour or so to get here."
"Get the hell away from my brother!" I snarled, aiming my weapon at him as I stepped into the room with Bobby right behind me.
Devin tilted his head to the side, glanced at Bobby, and with a roll of his eyes, he shook his head. "And you brought Bobby Singer with you . . . are you really that naive, Dean?"
Bobby moved forward to stand shoulder to shoulder with me as a united front against Devin. "He said to get away from his brother, you sonuvabitch, and you better damn well do what he says."
"So Bobby, care to share with me your big rescue plan?" With a bemused shake of his head, Devin chuckled lightly. "Again, Dean, I have to ask if you're really that stupid to bring him here with you to save your brother?"
"If you don't get the hell away from my brother, I'll fill you so full of lead, they'll be picking up pieces of you all over this goddamn room."
"I'd probably be more afraid of that oh, so frightening threat if your hand," he gestured toward my right hand, "wasn't trembling so badly on the trigger."
With another glance at Bobby, Devin suddenly jerked his head to the side, and Bobby was thrown against the wall, and held pinned there by some unseen force. I bolted toward him, but Devin splayed out a hand, and I was thrown backward into the wall. "Not yet, Dean," still looking toward Bobby, he held up an index finger as if to tell me I had to wait my turn, "I have to take care of one small little problem, and then you can get back to telling me how your going to kill me."
Devin closed the gap between himself and Bobby, and with my heart in my throat, I strained every muscle fighting uselessly to raise and fire my gun at him. The demon, or whatever the hell he was, tilted his head to the side to study Bobby more closely as if trying to figure something out for himself.
"You wanna kill me so kill me you son of a bitch!" I growled, tears filling my eyes and blurring my vision. "Just leave him the hell alone!"
"I'm afraid I can't do that. He has to die for the things he's done." Devin locked eyes with Bobby, and I watched helplessly as the man I thought of as a second father began to writhe in agony.
Tears spilled from my eyes as I redoubled my efforts to break free of his hold on me, but froze instantly in my spot as an ear-piercing scream filled the room. Thick black smoke rose from Bobby's eyes as brilliant light emanated from Devin's, but even as Bobby continued to scream, he kept his sights locked on the demon. His body trembled and quivered as his eyelids melted away and the whites of his eyes along with he brown of his irises turned as black as charcoal. With one last terrified cry, Bobby's head lolled forward, and his body went completely still.
"There," with a wave of his hand, Bobby and I were released from his hold, and slack-jawed I stared in stunned horror as my friend slumped bonelessly to the floor, "now what were you saying, Dean?"
My eyes locked on Bobby, waiting for him to move – waiting for some sign that he wasn't dead. But he didn't move – just like Sam wasn't moving. He'd killed them both, and more than likely my dad was dead as well. Bobby was right, they'd taken everything from me, and I was too weak to stop it from happening. The gun slipped from my grasp and fell to clatter on the floor, but I scarcely realized I had dropped it.
"Just kill me."