A/N: Wow, it's late. Haha... ok, so not too late-- about 1:45am only. Today's delay is brought to you by the namesake of my profile person; my beautiful and rambunctious neice. I went back to my parents place for the long weekend to not only be greated with some of my brothers, but also a two and a half year old Ally. But, on the plus side, I did e-mail myself both A Windy Story and this one shot to finish up, and through chasing after Ally, bathing her and making sure she doesn't stick her fingers where they're not supposed to go, I managed to finish off this one shot. It's a longer one, so I hope you all enjoy it! Ally goes back home tomorrow, so I'll see if I can get that damn chapter of A Windy Story up for you. Until then-- enjoy!
Title: Ghost Ship
Genre: Kindda horror, and supernatural... and if you squint, some humor.
Summary: Dean figured that the hunt that envolved a cruise ship, hot girls and alcohol would be great. What he didn't realize that the six people who had gone missing in the past month had been recruited for something far from great. And the Winchester's were next in line...
"Now this is my kind of job," Dean grinned pulling down his sunglasses to cover his green eyes.
Sam smiled, "Dude, just because we're taking a case on a cruise ship doesn't mean that you get to stare at all the girls the whole time while I do the work."
"I don't stare," Dean spoke as he watched a woman in a tank top and mini skirt walk by, "I admire."
"Six people have gone on this ship in the past month that haven't gone off," Sam said in a significantly quieter voice, "Admire from afar."
Dean frowned, "Some day I'll teach you how to have fun Sammy."
"And some day I'll teach you my real name," Sam shot back, "Come on-- lets go drop the bags off in our room."
After having endured two more gay assumptions, Sam and Dean had managed to book a small room on the lower deck that could hold little more than the two single sized beds inside. The case had been a last minute find, and so the brother's new they were lucky to even get a place on board the luxury cruise ship. Most of the people that were onboard fell into one of three categories; newly weds, retirees and seeking singles. It was the later that Dean eagerly wanted to chat it up with, but reluctantly had to agree with Sam on the fact that the case would come first.
"It's a three day cruise," Dean pointed out as he took off his sunglasses and Sam unlocked their room, "So we can figure out what's happening tonight, and then spend two days… relaxing."
"Two minutes Dean," Sam turned to his brother deadpan, "Give me two minutes of conversation with you without having to picture you doing--"
"It is so important to your health that you don't finish that sentence," Dean interrupted as he moved past Sam into the cabin.
Sam grinned as he plopped his bag down onto the bed, "Ok… so I know we couldn't bring much because of security, but what did you manage to get?"
"Uhh," Dean unzipped his own bag and stared at the contents as Sam closed the door, "Some holy water, exorcism books, and a pocket knife. What about you?"
Sam looked into his own bag, "Basically the same, though I grabbed some blessed beads and Dad's journal," the young hunter sighed, "I wish we had a better weapon though."
"Well…" Dean cleared his throat nervously as he stuck his hand into the back rim of his pants and pulled out a pistol to show Sam.
"What?!" Sam cried out before hissing, "You brought a gun onto the boat?"
"I feel naked without it Sam, you know that," Dean attempted to justify.
"What if there had been a metal detector?" Sam countered, "What would you have said when they had you pinned against the ground reading you your rights?"
"Oops?" Dean grinned innocently.
Sam sighed and rolled his eyes, "…honestly Dean…"
"Hey, we got a weapon now!" Dean defended, "We have a better chance of getting rid of whatever is on this thing if we have something that can hurt it."
Reluctantly Sam agreed, "Yeah… you're right. It was still stupid though." He paused, "What kind of bullets did you bring for it?"
Dean unzipped another pocket on his bag, "About a half dozen silver bullets, case of 44, and three rock filled capsules," Dean looked up to see Sam's impressed look, "See, I'm taking this thing seriously."
"Or you just like to shoot things," Sam teased, "Come on, lets go up on deck and look around."
"Now there's an idea," Dean flipped back down his sunglasses and followed his brother out the room.
Almost immediately after getting outside of the cabin, Dean noticed the massive amount of people walking around and talking. No wonder a large fuss wasn't being made by only six people missing. Mentally Dean began to rate the girls as they walked along the corridor while Sam talked more on the case.
"There's been three women, and three guys, so whatever this is, isn't choosing that way," Sam spoke in a quiet voice.
A blonde haired woman in tiny red shorts and a halter top walked by the brothers, giving a prolonged look at the elder.
'Nine. Definitely a nine.'
"The age groups are about the same though," Sam continued on, "Every one of them was in their early to mid twenties."
A lady that looked as if she could loose about thirty pounds and possibly had a mustache walked by in an all too revealing bathing suit.
'Oh God, is that a dude?'
"I figure we can look around a bit on deck, and maybe ask some of the people who have been working if they noticed anything," Sam was oblivious to Dean's game.
At that moment a lady with long wavy red hair walked down the hall. Her eyes sparkled green eyes and her slim stature bore a dark blue bikini top and a pleated white skirt.
'Wow… nine…' Dean swung around as he watched her walk away, 'ten… definitely a ten…
"Dean!" Sam barked out as they made it to the deck, "Have you been listening to a word I'm saying?"
"Of course," Dean put on his best offended tone, "I know exactly what you said."
"Really?" Sam turned to face his brother, "What was the last thing I said?"
"You asked me if I listen to a word you say," Dean grinned.
Sam went to make a very loud retort back, however saw that Dean was already halfway to a small outside bar. With a reluctant and exasperated sigh, Sam followed just in time to hear Dean hitting up a conversation with the bar tender.
"… my brother and I heard that there was another person that went missing the other week," Dean was saying.
"Yes," the man was looking at Dean in an odd way, "There has been a few of them."
Dean frowned at the man's choppy English, "Yeah… umm, were you here for all of them? Like, working?"
"Yes."
Dean gave and exasperated look to Sam who spoke up, "Excuse me, Sir, I think what my brother is trying to ask, is do you know what happened to these people?"
"No," the man pushed two drinks towards the brothers, "Here… have fun… on the house."
"Alright!" Dean enthusiastically cried out, "See Sammy… you do have powers."
"Dean wait," Sam spoke as the bar tender walked away, "Do you think we should?"
"Lighten up Sammy," Dean took a large swig of his drink, "The guy was probably just getting pissed at us asking him questions."
"Yeah," Sam sighed taking his drink, "Well next time wait for me before you start giving the third degree."
Dean shrugged this off as he finished his drink in one gulp. After much talkative pestering, Sam finished his and together the hunters took a tour of the deck. Sam couldn't help but feeling a little good in the fact that Dean was finally happy; it had been such a long time since Dean had laughed and smiled so much, and Sam thought for a moment that Dean was actually forgetting the fact that he had less than a year to live.
"I'm tired," Dean spoke suddenly as he stopped in his tracks near the railing.
"What?" Sam frowned as Dean clutched the railing wearily, "…Dean, are you ok?"
"I'm tired," Dean repeated with a wide yawn.
Sam paused a moment before reluctantly mimicking the yawn, "Yeah… me too…"
Dean frowned, "Maybe just the long ride in the car?"
"M-Maybe," Sam exhausted another yawn, "I'm going to go crash for a bit… pick this up later."
"I'll follow," Dean responded lamely.
Clumsily the two headed back down bellow deck to their rooms. The walk wasn't a long one, however by the time the hunters got to the door and unlocked it, neither could keep steady focus.
"Dude, something's wrong," Dean breathed as he sat on the edge of his bed and Sam closed the door.
Sam stumbled to the bed, crashing nearly face first into the mattress, "…you're right."
Sam was sure he heard Dean mumble something but couldn't hear properly or reply as his body slipped quickly into an unconscious state. The next thing the younger hunter was aware of was someone shaking his body.
"Sammy," Dean shook Sam's shoulders firmly, "Sammy wake up man… time to wake up."
"Humm?" Sam mumbled.
Dean lightly smacked the side of Sam's face, "C'mon buddy… wakey, wakey."
"Dean?" Sam squinted sideways at his brother.
"Yup," Dean grasped the collar of Sam's shirt with both hands and lifted him into a sitting position, "You alright?"
"Yeah," Sam wiped his hand over his eyes and looked at Dean through the sleep which still lingered, "You?"
"Yeah," Dean let go and looked around, "What the hell happened?"
"We went to sleep," Sam looked around as well, "I think it was something from those drinks," he smacked Dean's arm, "I told you we shouldn't have drank them."
"Lets go," Dean ignored Sam's comment as he put his gun into the rim of his pants and pulled open his bag, "Grab your knife."
Sam pulled out his small pocket knife and watched Dean do the same as well pull out an assortment of the bullets. Without word Sam moved to the door and opened it up carefully. Dean snuck out first, though stopped barely a foot out of the doorway.
"What the--?" Dean breathed staring around.
"This can't be good," Sam whispered staring down both to his right and left.
The hallway had changed completely. No longer did any people walk around in busy noise, nor was the place lit up brightly with lamps and ceiling lights. Only a few random light bubs hung down now, giving ominous shadows to everything. The wall had gone from a solid oak finishing to a peeling wallpaper and paint finish that seemed to have weathered with age. The floor no longer was a soft peach color, but now was covered in broken and splintering wood.
"Dean, what the hell happened?" Sam questioned.
"I don't know," Dean took out his gun, "Lets go up deck."
Slowly the two worked their way down the long hallway, and up to the deck. The sky was dark and ominous, being disrupted only by shimmers of broken moonlight. Wordlessly the brother's walked onto the abandoned deck.
"The ship isn't moving," Dean observed.
"Yeah," Sam glanced out over the railing at the still, inky water, "We should split up… you go right and I'll go left, and meet at the back."
"No," Dean, despite it only being himself and Sam seemingly on board, whispered, "Dude, we have to stick together."
"Dean, we need to figure out what's going on," Sam pulled out his knife which he'd shoved in his picket, "I'll be fine."
Dean sighed, "Alright, just be careful."
"Yeah," Sam nodded, "You too."
Sam broke away from Dean as he moved to the left of the ship. A low wind broke through the silence as Sam crept along the broken and rotting walkway. He almost laughed at how much the place looked like a ghost ship they'd see in the movies. All that was missing was the--
"Going somewhere?" Sam swung around to see the ghost of the same bar tender who served them their drinks.
"You," Sam breathed, pointing his knife towards the man, "What did you do to us?"
"Welcome," the man spread his arms out, "to my ship."
"Your ship?" Sam frowned, feeling his heart beat quickening.
"My ship," the man confirmed, "I have… how you say… recruited you."
"What?"
"My ship needs people," the opaque spirit explained, "So I collect. You, are my lucky number seven from here."
"The other six people that went missing," Sam questioned, his eyes widening, "They were just taken to be on your crew?"
"Three wenches and three men," the spirit grinned.
"Well you're not going to have me," Sam spoke threatening taking a lung towards the spirit.
With a flick of his hand, the spirit lifted Sam up off his feet, sending out a horrible choking sound from the hunter.
"Dean!" Sam's strangled voice called, "…D-Dean…"
Slowly Sam's body was moved towards the railing, his feet dangling nearly two feet off the ground as his lips turned blue.
"Man overboard," the spirit whispered with a smile.
"No!" a cry came from around the corner of the walkway.
Sam's blurring vision looked over to see Dean running over, with his gun drawn and pointed at the spirit. Dean's eyes were wide, and shone mysteriously in the moonlight.
"Let him go," Dean begged.
"All I ever wanted was to be captain," the man spoke slowly to get the words out properly, "Now, I will be Captain Thomas J. Marcus."
Dean cocked the gun, "Let him go."
Thomas looked at Dean a moment, another crooked smile spreading across his face, "…ok."
Without warning Sam was flung over the railing.
"No!" Dean cried out firing two quick shoots into the spirit, which disappeared in a wisp of smoke, "Sammy!"
Dean took one lung forwards towards the railing when suddenly he fell flat against the rotting boards of the ghost ship.
Instantly he awoke.
"Sam," Dean gasped sitting up, and staring around.
He was back inside their cabin again, and looking around, Dean's heart pounded in his chest at the absence of his little brother.
"Sammy!" Dean cried out, "…oh God…"
The memories of what happened was all to clear and Dean jumped up from his bed quickly and rushed out the door. He was vaguely aware of the fact that there was once again numerous people rushing around in the halls. As he reached the deck again the sun shone down brightly on the sunbathers, and the crew. Pausing in mid movement, Dean stared around for any sign of Sam.
"Sam!" Dean shouted out, numerous people turning around to look at him, "Sam!"
A shout and cry from the left caused Dean's attention to be turned. Rushing through the growing crowd of people, he could see vaguely the image of a person laying on the deck.
"Someone call a doctor!" a person shouted.
"I think he was overboard!" another cried out.
"Sam," Dean breathed shoving his way through the crowd.
Dean's breath caught in his throat as he saw that it was Sam laying on the ground of the deck, completely soaked.
"Sammy," Dean dropped to his knees, his fingers immediately going to the young hunters neck; breathing a sigh of relief at the beat, "Hey Sammy… can you hear me?"
Slowly Sam's eyes opened up and stared at Dean, "Hey… Dean."
Dean sighed and closed his eyes briefly before replying, "Hey Sammy," he pulled some wet hair form his forehead, "How are you?"
Sam breathed hard and stared at the growing crowd of people, "…what happened?"
"Can you move?" Dean asked, swallowing hard.
"Yeah," Sam coughed loudly, "help me."
"He's ok," Dean called out to the crowd before turning back to Sam, "C'mon Sammy… go slow, be careful."
Dean grabbed firmly onto Sam's arm and helped pull him first to a sitting position, and then to a standing position. Knowing that Sam wanted to get away from the people as soon as possible, Dean held firmly around his midsection and helped carry him away. Sam leaned heavily into his brother as they walked through the crowded deck, and to down bellow.
"Almost there," Dean reassured as they reached their room.
Once inside, Dean deposited Sam onto the bed, sitting down beside him, "Sammy, are you alright?"
"I think so," Sam pushed back his wet hair, "How about you?"
"I-I woke up here," Dean spoke quietly, "Dude, what the hell happened?"
"I don't know," Sam shook his head, "I remember the ship had changed, and there was some spirit up on deck. Then nothing."
"He grabbed you," Dean breathed hard, "Threw you over board."
Sam nodded, "I figured that. What- what did he say Dean?"
"He was collecting people," Dean sat with his hand partially over his mouth, "Just… killing people to make his own ghost ship."
"Did you get a name?" Sam asked carefully.
Dean nodded, "Thomas Marcus. Dude… are you sure you're ok?"
"I'm fine Dean," Sam forced a smile for proof, "I swear. We should look up the name and try to figure out who the hell this guy is."
"Yeah," Dean cleared his throat of the emotions, "You should go dry off. Check for any other injuries," then added as Sam walked into the bathroom, "And keep it unlocked!"
Keeping an ear out for any signs of distress from the bathroom, Dean pulled out Sam's laptop. Happy that Sam's wireless connection was holding up, he quickly typed in the name Thomas Marcus. Some random and useless sites came up before he ran into one that spoke of a sailing from the late 1600's.
"Oh man..." Dean breathed as he read through the small part of the article telling of a Thomas J. Marcus.
During a 1689 sail from south Italy, the ship captained by Captain Ralph Bores was mutinied by sailor Thomas Marcus. The attempted mutiny was only partially successful as Thomas contracted scurvy through the trip, and died before making shore…
"Find anything?" Sam questioned walking back into the small room.
Dean smiled, "You look better."
Sam nodded, "Yeah. Couple of bruises, that's it."
"That's good," Dean let out a small relieved breath, "And yeah, I found the guy. He was a sailor who took over the ship he was sailing on. He died before he could be much of a captain, and I guess he went on after to collect his crew."
"So he's probably hit more ships than just this one," Sam mused as he looked down at the screen Dean was on, "Goes for places with lots of people."
"They landed in New York," Dean commented as he read more in the article, "That'll be the place they would have buried him."
"Yeah," Sam grinned, "Guess you get your wish-- two days of just relaxing."
Dean mirrored the smile, "Sounds good to me. Do you want to rest up a bit first?"
"No, I'm good," Sam shook his head, "We better go up deck before they send the cavalry after us to check on me though."
Dean nodded, "Yeah, you did seem like kind of a wuss."
Sam rolled his eyes and walked out the door. Dean followed, placing a sentimental hand on Sam's shoulder before once again flipping down his sunglasses and moving into the crowded corridor. Sam smiled and followed a small distance behind. The second piece of good luck in the past ten minutes happened as the same red headed woman in the blue top and white skirt walked seductively by Dean; sending a long flirtatious look at him.
'Yep,' Dean grinned, 'Definitely a ten…'