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Dean had finally gotten Ella calmed down and sat with a hot cup of coffee before he began to worry about Sam. He couldn't hear his brother's footsteps above him anymore. He couldn't hear anything from upstairs.
Something was wrong.
He made his excuses to Ella, placing a reassuring hand on her back.
"Hey, uh, I'm going to go find my partner upstairs, make sure the investigation is uh, going smoothly." Ella nodded, wrapping her hands around the cup of coffee. He hadn't managed to get any useful information out of her after all. She just couldn't believe her husband was really gone. With a hefty sigh, he stood up and walked over to the stairs.
He could hear a little girl's voice talking quietly to someone, but he didn't hear the other side of the conversation. She must have been talking to one of her dolls.
"Sammy?" He called up the stairs, hoping to see him step over so they could get out of there and keep their investigation going. No answer, which sent a cold stab of fear up his back. He walked up the stairs, carefully patting where his sawed-off shotgun lay concealed in his jacket. "Sam, are you up here?"
He stepped over down the hallway, looking in each room as he passed. A little girl was sitting at a little doll table in her room, looking down at something in her hand. He cleared his throat, and she whirled around, keeping whatever she was holding behind her. Her eyes were wide as she looked up at him, and he realized he must have been glaring at her. He made a conscious effort to relax his face, rearranging his worried grimace into a smile.
"Hey, little girl. Have you seen my brother? He was supposed to be up here, looking around." he said, peering around the inside of her room. It was pretty standard, girly as all get out, and enough pink to turn his stomach. She shook her head, keeping her hands locked behind her.
"I haven't seen him." She said, biting her lip. Dean narrowed his eyes, listening for his brother walking around in the hallway behind him.
"Really? He should have been stomping around here. He's pretty tall, you can't miss him." He said, looking down the hallway. Nothing.
"Well, uh, I mean he was here, but he's not here now." She said nervously, looking down at her toes now. "He went back downstairs." Her hands were still behind her back, hiding something.
Dean narrowed his eyes. Kids were worse liars than most. He would have noticed Sam coming back down the stairs, and something about this girl's demeanor was off. The fact that his brother was missing was beginning to ring alarm bells in his head.
"What do you have there?" he asked, stepping into the room. Lily's eyes widened and she stepped back, keeping her hands where they were.
"Nothing!" she said, but she still refused to show him. Suspicious, Dean pressed forward.
"Listen, uh, Lily, right? Well, we're looking for evidence of what happened to your dad. Anything could be evidence, Lily. So, I'm going to need you to show me what you have, right now." He said, doing his best to play into the stern FBI agent role. He must have been pretty intense, because she started trembling. He softened a little, kneeling. "I don't want to scare you, Lily. I just want to help your dad come home." Slowly, the little girl moved her hands from behind her back, reluctantly holding the contents out for Dean to inspect.
His intense green eyes immediately focused on the little doll in her hands. Just a doll, he thought, leaning back onto his heels. Then, he leaned back in to really look. A really realistic doll, he thought, impressed. It had little jeans on, with a flannel shirt and… long brown hair. His face hardened.
It looked exactly like Sam.
He leaned in closer to peer at its little face. A voodoo doll? He'd seen voodoo dolls before, but they never looked this accurate. Mostly little canvas sacks with little buttons for eyes and features painted on with heavy strokes. If this was a voodoo doll, it was made by someone with real skill. Dolls like this weren't kid's toys, they were collector's items. Still, it was never a good idea to have little doppelgangers floating around. His experience with the shapeshifter had proven that to him. He reached for the doll, but Lily pulled it away.
"No, he's mine!" she said, bring up her other hand to clutch her little prize. The Sam-shaped doll lolled its head back, its little limbs falling limp. Dean wrinkled his nose. It made his stomach clench to see the little replica of his brother floppy and limp like that.
"Hey, now. I just want to take a quick look at him. Make sure he's…" He wasn't sure what to say next. "Uh…working right?" he finished, wincing at how lame he sounded. Lily shook her head, clutching the little Sam-doll up to her face.
"No, he's mine, and he wants to play with me!" she said. Dean rubbed the back of his neck. He didn't want to take her toy away, but something about that little toy felt wrong. Sam goes missing, and now there's a miniature replica of him in the same house? He had to at least get a closer look. He cleared his throat and stood back up to his full height.
"Now, little girl. I didn't want to have to do this, but…" He pulled out his fake FBI badge, flashing it right in front of Lily's face. Her eyes widened, fascinated with the shiny medal. "I'm afraid I need to take a look at that little guy, as part of my investigation." He paired his new tactic with a charming smile, reaching his hand out again.
"Is that real?" She asked, her eyes wide and focused solely on the shiny badge in front of her. Dean could see her grip on the doll loosening a little.
"Totally real. It's what makes me a real FBI guy." Dean said, keeping his eyes trained on the toy in her hand.
"I don't have any FBI guys! Let me see!" She cried, reaching for the badge. Dean held it back, keeping it open over her head.
"Whoa, you can take a look at my badge, if you let me look at that, too." He offered, holding the badge for her to see and pointing at the toy. She looked down at the doll in her hand, then at the badge, reluctantly holding the doll out to Dean.
With a quick smile, Dean wrapped his fingers around the Sam-shaped doll and passed the badge over to Lily, who sat down to look at it reverently. He smiled at her before turning his attention to what was sitting in his hand.
It really did look like Sam. It didn't feel like plastic, either. The little four-inch replica sat heavy and floppy in his palm. Using a single finger, he lifted its little arm up, letting it fall back onto his fingers. It even felt warm, sitting heavy on his hand.
Something was definitely up with this thing. Maybe a witch was using this little doll to scry and find out information on them? While he'd never seen a voodoo doll this realistic, he couldn't discount the possibility that it was meant to hurt Sam. Either way, he wanted to take it back to the room and show his brother, wherever he was. Dean wrapped his fingers around the doll, fully covering it with his hand, and stuffed it into his breast pocket.
"Hey, you can't take him home!" Lily said, now seeing Dean pocket her newest toy. "He's mine!" she reached her hands up, expectantly. Dean sucked his teeth.
"Ooh, sorry, I'm afraid he's, uh, evidence. I'll return him once the guys at the office are done making sure it's safe." He said, shrugging and smiling down at Lily. Her face started to redden angrily.
"I don't care! I want him back! He's mine and he wants to play with me!" She said, looking on the verge of tears.
"Hey, uh, why don't we do a trade? You hang on to my badge, and I'll hang on to the doll. For now." Dean said, trying to placate the little girl. He held his hands up. "You said you didn't have any FBI guys. Now you can, just give one of your other dolls that badge, and he'll be ready to go." He said, motioning to the badge still clutched in her little hand. Lily looked down at it, her mouth pursed. With an adorable look of anger, she crossed her arms.
"Fine. It's too big for any of them, anyway." She sat down, in a huff, at her little table. "You probably don't want to play tea party with me, huh?" she asked, a little snark in her voice. Dean grinned, shaking his head.
"Nah, I'm more of a coffee guy. But I bet Sammy would. Wherever he scuttled off to." He said, looking into the hallway again. "You take care of that badge, now. I better get it back in the same condition when I bring this little guy back." He said, pointing at the badge. Lily rolled her eyes.
"Yeah, I'll take care of it. And you better bring him back, he's mine!" she said, pointing at his jacket pocket where he'd stashed the toy. Dean patted his pocket, feeling the doll under his fingers.
"Ha, yeah, I'll make sure he comes back in one piece." He said, drawing a little x over his chest. "Cross my heart!" He backed out of the girl's room, now a little irritated. Where the hell was Sam? Maybe he'd managed to sneak out of the house while he was with Ella. He could have gotten bored and decided to walk somewhere else. Something was nagging at him. Something was wrong. He walked down the stairs, peeking into the kitchen. Ella still sat there, holding her coffee and staring out the window.
"You, uh, didn't happen to see my brother walk through here, did you?" He asked. Ella looked at him blankly, like she didn't comprehend his words. Dean raised an eyebrow. "Hello? Did you see him come through here?" Ella shook her head slowly, her eyes still completely blank. Dean shivered. He needed to get out of here, now. Something was off and he couldn't put his finger on what. In their line of work, when something felt wrong, it probably was.
"Are you leaving already?" Ella's voice came from behind him, and he jumped. He whipped around to see Ella staring at him. Unlike her face from a few moments ago, her eyes were shrewd and discerning. He met her gaze, determined not to look away.
"Uh, yeah. But I'm sure we'll be back soon. New leads are always popping up." He offered a shrug and a smile, which she met. Her smile didn't reach her eyes.
"We'll, then I'm sure I'll see you again." Ella said, turning back to her cup of coffee and sitting back down. Dean rolled his eyes and hurried out the front door.
The Impala was still sitting in the driveway, empty. Dean cursed. He'd been hoping to find that Sam had just decided to wait in the car.
Unlocking the door, he slid into the driver's seat. He started the car, savoring the purr of the classic car's powerful engine. Furrowing his eyebrows, Dean took out his phone, dialed Sam's number and held the phone up to his ear. It rang and rang, but nobody answered.
"Son of a bitch!" He shouts, throwing the phone down. "Sammy, where the hell are you?" He was really beginning to get worried. Sam almost never disappeared like this while they were on a case, and if he did… Well, it was never something good.
When Sam finally woke up, he felt surprisingly relaxed. Wherever he was, it was soft, warm, and dark. He wanted to snuggle deeper into the blankets he was wrapped in and fall asleep to assuage his pounding headache. He tried to rearrange himself to a more comfortable position when an extremely loud, booming noise surrounded him.
"Son of a bitch!" He heard Dean shout, but the voice was so loud and overpowering, it rattled his entire body. The voice sounded like it was coming from everywhere at once. The voice said something else, but it only sounded like thunder rumbling all around him. Sam tried to jump to his feet, but there was no ground underneath him. He fell, surrounded on all sides by rough fabric. It was hot and stifling and dark, and the pounding he felt in his head echoed through his entire body. He'd never experienced a hangover like this. His memories were fuzzy, but adrenaline was still coursing through his veins as he could only latch onto the idea of escaping.
"Dean…" He said, weakly. "Where are you?" He began to thrash around, trying to get his bearings. Wherever he was, he wanted out. He wasn't restrained, but the material around him was too soft for his fighting to have any effect, and he only managed to fall over again.
"What the hell?" He heard a voice rumbling all around him, but quieter this time. Sam lay on his back, panting, trying to catch his breath. His head would not stop its awful, oppressive pounding as he lay in the dark, growing warmer and warmer. After a moment, he gathered up his breath to cry out again.
"Dean! Where are you?" He shouted at the top of his lungs. "I'm here!" He felt his entire prison move, causing Sam to flail in panic again.
"Sammy?" He heard Dean say, and Sam tried to stand again.
"I'm here!" He shouted, not even sure what direction his brother was in. Without warning, something slammed into him from his right side, crushing him against the wall of his prison. He hadn't thought there was a wall on the other side of the fabric, but the crushing pressure had him effectively pinned up against it. The pounding was only worse here and he moaned softly, struggling again, trying desperately to free himself. He couldn't even catch enough breath to cry out again. Nothing he did would budge the walls around him.
"No way." He felt it more than he heard Dean say it, the rumbling was even louder now. The rumbling and the pounding… Sam struggled again, his muscles burning with exhaustion as he tried again to press against the wall behind him.
Suddenly, the pressure was gone, and he stumbled back in the soft fabric walls. He took in a gulp of air, gasping in the stifling air around him.
"Dean, help me! Where are you?" He shouted, kicking blindly in the dark.
Then light was pouring in from above, blinding him as he fell, again, onto the cloth beneath him. Cool air poured over him, and he gulped it gratefully as he began to relax. His relaxation didn't last long, however, as his eyes finally adjusted to the light and he realized there were fingers above him, moving closer. His recent memories of being crushed by a set of fingers not half an hour ago flooded back into his brain, causing him to panic. Immediately he began to writhe, scrambling to get to the corner, to hide, to push those massive things away. There was more there, more memories of what had happened to him, but he couldn't focus in his panic.
"No!" He shouted, putting his hands out as if to stop them, but his miniscule muscles couldn't stop them anymore than they could stop a moving train. The hand wrapped around him, completely encasing him in a prison of flesh.
He tried fighting, kicking, anything, but this hand was even stronger and firmer than Lily's. He couldn't move a single muscle. He couldn't even kick his legs. His entire body was completely enclosed inside a single hand. It made his heart race to think of how much power the hand around him had right now. He'd been crushed to the point of passing out by smaller hand, after all.
He felt a dizzying sensation of movement and his stomach turned as he recognized the sensation of being moved. Then, he was free again, the light blinding his eyes and the cool air surrounding him. He fell to his hands and knees, gasping and shaking. Under his hands, he could see where he was, unmistakable from the fleshy color, leathery texture, and the distinctive lined pattern beneath his tiny fingers. A palm. Terror pierced his heart as he trembled, completely overwhelmed as he looked up, into a massive pair of green eyes.
"Sam?"