No Light Without Darkness 7/7
May 17th, 1am
The Ambassador's Hotel
Kansas City, Kansas
Sam was flying up the steps as fast as his long legs could possibly carry him. He was glad to be such a tall guy for he was still taking three steps at once covering a lot of ground on the way. But he was already panting like a drowning man and a layer of sweat covered his body making his hands slippery as he grabbed the handrail for support using is arms to pull himself just a little further up the stairs while cursing in his mind that the architect of this place had designed it with a penthouse swimming-pool. When he reached the next landing he was sure that some powers had it in for him really bad and made a pranking contest at how to torture Sam Winchester best.
He was gasping like a goldfish on the rooftop of a black Land Rover somewhere in the middle of the Sahara as he read the sign indicating it to be the landing of floor number nine and he would have sworn a little more if he had had the air to. But he heard a set of footsteps close behind him and saw the Golem only half a floor down, which made him fasten his pace - at least he tried - not daring to catch his breath. His lungs burned from the unwanted work out and his legs were made of lead making every step a pain while his side hurt like hell.
He didn’t make it further then floor thirteen. He heard the steps close in continually but didn’t have the strength to speed up as he hardly kept from slowing down. As he saw the big thirteen - go figure - at the door of the landing he heard the shuffle behind him change pace and something slammed into his back with a heavy thud making him fall face first against the staircase door. It gave way and Sam found himself in a heap on the carpet of a long hall lined by rooms. The Golem was on top of him grabbing his neck and pulling him to a stand. Sam saw that it was the single-handed Golem that had looked a lot like him before they melted its face into a muddy puddle. It pinned him against the wall and started punching the younger Winchester brother with the stump of its arm. Sam’s head was thrown back against the wall and he scrambled for any weapon he might find and came up with a bottle of holy water. He screwed off the cap while he got hit in the face again. It was only a small flask so he had to dose the fluid carefully. He took a lucky shot at emptying it over the hand that pinned him to the wall.
It didn’t have the effect it had on demons. But the fingers melted like the face… not loosing their form completely but getting slick enough so Sam could slip from the grip and dodge the next blow. He kicked the Golem hard in the knees making it loose its stand and fall over. Sam looked around frantically for any alternative to immediate flight. He found it in the form of another niche in the wall not unlike the one in the alley but this one harboring an emergency fire hose. He ran down the hallway to where the indicating sticker marked the wall and opened the glass window that covered the niche. He pulled out the hose and turned on the water just as the Golem got to his feet.
The force of the water that sprayed from the hose hit the Golem in the chest and Sam lost sight of it fast. Not sure if it had dissolved already he held the hose in the general direction of where it had been for a minute more before lowering it to see how things were. The Golem was nowhere to be seen. He kept his grip on the hose, water splashing against the floor soaking his shoes and pants as he walked down the hall looking around. There was mud on the floor but no scroll. He was surprised as he was jumped at from the side. The Golem had taken refuge in a room at the hall’s right and tried to knock Sam down again. He sidestepped the thing that now looked pretty much like the Blob, but the Golem grabbed the hose and pulled hard on it. Sam lost hold of his weapon and on the other side there was a cracking sound as the hose was ripped from the wall, water spilling onto the floor in a little flood. The Golem was slipping as its feet were muddy by then and Sam took off towards the staircase again. He flew up the next three landings until he saw the sign on the door that said the pool was on this floor. The spluttering slimy sounding steps were not far behind. He needed to say this about Golems: they were like piranhas. If they once had their teeth in you, they just didn’t let go come what may… and Sam would make sure that a bath was what would come for this special piranha.
He threw the door open and ran down the hall as fast as his aching legs could muster. At the end there was a big double-gate glass-door that showed a dark pool area. It was past midnight and the pool was officially closed. They could be rather glad about it or they might have had to explain the struggle with the mud-monster to the irritated hotel guests. The door was locked and Sam cursed, taking a step back. Normally Dean was the man for kicking in doors and he took a fleeting moment to worry about his brother who should be there already after taking the elevator. Then he gave the door a hard kick… and was royally pissed as the thing didn’t blow open like it should. It took him three more loud and rather painful kicks that rattled his knee pretty hard ere the doors’ lock broke.
The pool area was dark but light spilled in from the ceiling which was a glass roof, enabling the swimmers to see the sky, but still be warm and comfortable in any weather. Electrical lights were glowing on the sides of the buildings roof lighting up the pool area well enough for Sam to see. He hurried in, looking for any kid of weapon and only found a pool net with a ten foot handle leaning on the wall. The doors slammed open again and he grabbed the net instantly turning around and whipping it at the muddy Golem. Sam decided to try and drive it to the pool. He slapped it over the head, but that didn’t do any harm other than pissing it off. The Blob grabbed the net and broke it, leaving Sam with a ten foot stick now sporting a nice spiked peak. He couldn’t help himself but grin.
Sam stepped back as though fleeing - again - and the Golem followed. Within a few steps they were next to the pool and Sam turned to one side making the Golem stand with its back to the water. It seemed like Golems were not the brightest colors in the crayon box… the better for him. He let out a shout and rammed the broken off handle into the Golem’s chest shoving hard. It went in easily and Sam gave another shove to push the mud-man over the pools edge. As the Golem took the dive Sam stepped up and held onto the makeshift spear he was holding. He watched the thing struggle in the water and made sure to keep it staked and out of reach of the pools edge while it slowly dissolved. It took maybe a minute ere the bouncing on the end of his spear seized and there was nothing left but the brownish green mud that stained the formerly clear water.
Dean was still lying on the roof of the hotel. He was panting as hard as ever and didn’t dare move or he would probably wake all the guests with his pained screams. Why him? Why did he get the elevator that took the sixteen story swan-dive while having a hugely traumatized shoulder and a Black Dog bite and enough head bumps to last a lifetime? It was not fair. His left arm hurt like hell. His jaw was set so hard, he cold feel the cracks building in his teeth but if he let go and moved just a little he might bite off his own tongue and he still had use of that one. He didn’t know how long he lay there face down in front of the half open door to the smoldering elevator shaft. Finally he forced himself to turn over carefully and take a look around. He was on the roof. There were tables and chairs all along the railing with a nice view over the city. A bar that was closed due to the late hours was set on the far corner and in the centre there was a flat copula made of glass that gave the guests the chance to look down at the pool one floor below. Dean swore as he sat up and groaned as his body protested against the movement.
He decided to get up and find a staircase so he could get down there to see if Sam was alright. But as he scrambled to his feet, he saw what was normally only happening in those strange science fiction movies. He heard a screech and a few low bumps and as he turned there was a hand coming out of the elevator shaft grabbing onto the rim followed by a slightly disheveled Golem. Well… the ‘slightly’ might be slightly understated but well. It looked like one of those plastic soldiers a kid had melted with a magnifying glass in the sun after it was driven over by the dad’s car and chewed on by the family dog. But other then that it could still kick Dean’s ass royally.
“Oh, you’re kidding me… Who are you the Omega Man?”
The elder Winchester found a completely new strength in himself motivated by the moody look the torn clay-man wore as he pulled himself out of the elevator doors completely and stomped towards him. Dean got up but didn’t get the chance to do any more before a kick that resembled being hit by a sledge-hammer hurled him backwards. All air left his lungs as the foot collided with his chest and he found himself flying just as he had so often lately. The impact couldn’t blow any more air from his lungs, but it still hurt like a son of a bitch. He was groaning and only noticed the cracking noise his body had made at the second thought. He had hit the side of the glass copula and as he looked through the window pane he saw his brother standing at the edge of the water with a long staff in his hand. He didn’t have time to watch as the torn Golem closed in again probably wanting to snuff Dean for good this time. The decision was made before his head could ponder the negative sides of it and he scrambled onto the copula toward the middle of the pools glass ceiling. The Golem followed unaware of the hunter’s plan. It stood over him within seconds putting a foot onto his chest and pressing down hard.
Dean heard a silent crack. He shoved his hand into his jacket and pulled out the gun he always carried. The Golem grinned.
“That won’t do you any good. Bullets can’t harm me… don’t you ever learn.”
Dean turned the weapon and gripped it so the butt of the gun was sticking out.
“Probably not. But I wanted to see you swimming.”
He closed his eyes and swung the gun with all the force he could muster at the already cracking window pane. There the sound of splintering glass and a loud crack as the bursting copula gave way beneath them and Dean felt himself fall in a sea of shards before hitting the water’s surface.
Sam was looking if he could see the scroll anywhere without jumping into the pool himself. But his attention was redirected when he heard a loud thud and a crack. He looked around and couldn’t see anything that might have made that sound. A few more bumps made him realize that the sound came from above. He looked up and his heart skipped a beat.
“Dean.”
His brother was lying on his back in the middle of the glass ceiling. Over him stood a Golem that looked as though it had had a nasty run in with a train and a monster truck at the same time. Sam was about to run to the staircase again and sprint up to save his brother as said man pulled his gun and slammed the glass beneath him. Sam watched in horror as he saw the glass burst in an explosion of shards and Dean started falling in between the glittering pieces of glass that reflected the light from the roof towards the deep and dark waters beneath. It was a good twenty feet drop and as Dean’s body hit the pool there was a spray of water and the splashes shielded him from view. As the turmoil ebbed down the surface became smooth again and Dean was not to be seen. He didn’t come back up again.
“Dean!”
He jumped into the dreary water without wasting a second. His clothes were soaked instantly and weighed heavy on him as he swam to the middle of the pool where Dean and the Golem had gone under. A few long strokes later he found himself diving into the depths on his frantic search for Dean. His brother was a good swimmer normally. But even if the fall hadn’t knocked him out, the soaked clothes would pull him down and with his left arm nearly useless he would probably not be able to keep himself above water.
The dissolved clay made it nearly impossible to see further then arms length and Sam found himself groping into nothingness. As his air ran short he had to go up and take a few breaths.
“Dean?”
Dean hadn’t surfaced and his veins ran cold. He plunged down again swearing to himself not to resurface without his big brother. He started groping around the cool darkness and would have taken a relieved breath if he were not under water as his fingers grazed something solid. He closed the distance to his findings and saw a dark form in the dull waters. He took hold of a wet leather jacket and pushed the two of them upwards. When they broke the water Sam’s lungs were burning from keeping his breath so long. He held Dean underneath his shoulder with an arm over his chest using the other to struggle towards the pool’s side. Dean was unconscious and the grown man he was he would have been hard to take along even without the soaked clothes. Sam found himself more underwater then not, but he tried to keep his brother’s head above it as good as he could. It felt like forever until they were at the edge of the pool and Sam was exhausted.
He held on to the rim next to the ladder for dear life turning Dean, so he could see his face.
“Dean?”
He shook him a little.
“Dean, are you alright.”
His brother unconscious as he was did not answer and Sam felt panic grab hold of him. He needed to get Dean out of the pool to see if he needed CPR, but he had no idea how he could manage that. He tried to keep Dean afloat while pulling himself out of the deep pool. He managed to get his own body out of the water without letting go of his brother with huge effort and then tried to heave Dean out as well. But that was quite the task. After three failed tries he got desperate enough to hold on to the leather jacket with all his might and throw himself backwards with a push of his legs using his weight and the fall to add up the strength. It worked. Dean’s body came out of the water although his knees made a most unhappy sound as they ran hard against the rim.
Sam found himself lying on the tiles with Dean half over him, but lost no time to roll his big brother over and feel his pulse. It was there though faint and Sam breathed out a relieved “Thank god.” He shook his brother rather forcefully and as Dean did not move he decided to get the water his brother must have gotten down his throat out but shoving his hands hard against Dean’s ribcage repeatedly.
It took him a few shoves before Dean spit out a mouthful of water followed by a few strangled coughs. Dean groaned rolling to his side and clasped a hand over his chest. “Dean? Dean, man, are you alright?”
His brother was taking raspy breaths looking pale with his lips a bluish color and his muscles trembling. It was cold lying on the tiles in the middle of the night soaking wet. So it was no surprise that the look he got for that question clearly said ‘Do I look okay?’
But instead Dean groaned once more sitting up and said: “I hate Golems.”
“Me too.”
“That fucked up son of a bitch thought he could snuff me right there… Is he dead?”
Sam looked at the pool that was even muddier then a few minutes ago.
“Yeah. You killed it.”
His head snapped back around and he gave Dean the most pissed off look he could muster up beneath all the relief he felt about his brother not being dead.
“But if you do something like that EVER again, I won’t be jumping after you, do you hear me?”
Dean gave him a weak smile and a pet on the shoulder. “Sure you will.”
Sam knew that Dean was right but he wouldn’t let it go that easily.
“Dean I mean it. Why do you always have to make things look like some fucked up Hollywood stunt gone bad?”
Dean dished out his trademark mischievous grin. “I’ve got a reputation to keep.”
“Okay, that’s it. I’m going to get you a therapist to address your suicidal tendencies!”
Sam only shook his head. It was a lost fight. Dean had bought the exclusive rights to reckless and self-destructive behavior years ago.
“So Sam… what about the scrolls?”
Dean fell backwards to lie flat, still breathing slightly troubled and looking like a wet little puppy that had just been saved from drowning in a bucket of ice water. Sam knew that his brother would not be the one diving into the dulled waters of the pool looking for the magical scrolls with the spell work to animate the Golems. He gave a sigh and shrugged off his soaked jacket followed by the wet shoes.
He got up and walked to the side of the pool looking at the mud-stained water with a small pout.
“Why me?”
Then he jumped in and started a long drawn search for the scrolls in a much too big pool.
Dean was content with lying on the floor for the next fifteen minutes while Sam was scouting the pool cursing every time he came up empty handed. The elder Winchester brother tried to ignore the cold that crept into his limbs as the soaked clothes clung to them making him feel clam and cold in the night air that now blew in from the broken ceiling. He couldn’t find the will to move himself for his body felt heavier then ever. His shoulder was pounding as was his back that had broken his fall into the water and everyone who has once made an unhappy dive from the big platform of a swimming pool knew how it hurt to hit the water’s surface from that high up. His lungs were still burning and he tasted chlorine in his mouth which probably was anything but healthy but seeing that neither was jumping from a freefalling elevator, he did not really care about that.
Finally Sam pulled himself from the pool having his patented pout plastered on his face holding the two scrolls.
He sat down next to Dean dripping wet and started unrolling the paper. That finally motivated the older brother to move and sit up once again with more effort then it really should have been. Dean looked at the scroll and found himself turning his head at every angle.
“Did the ink get blurred or do I need glasses?”
Sam huffed and unrolled the second scroll. There was writing on it but Dean couldn’t read a single word.
“No Dean, but this is no language I’ve ever seen before. The symbols don’t ring a bell.”
“Well that’s great, this much for just reading our enemy’s name here.”
Sam rolled the scrolls up again.
“That means that I just spent like forever diving in that frickin’ cold water for nothing.”
Dean plucked the scrolls from his brothers hand grinning.
“Not nothing.”
He dug into his jacket’s pocket and pulled out a little squeeze bottle of lighter fluid and a lighter. He opened the cap of the bottle but Sam stopped him.
“Wait. Let me copy that first.”
It took a few minutes until Sam had found a piece of paper and a pen at the pool guard’s office and copied the weird symbols down. Maybe one of Bobby’s books could bring light into the darkness later on. Dean soaked the still wet scrolls and after a few unlucky tries with the wet lighter - gladly he did not bring matches - managed to torch them. Being still wet they burned with a lot of dark smoke and a stinging smell that crept into his nose. But it was a really satisfactory feeling to torch what was left of those pain-in-the-ass baddies.
Sam got up while Dean was still warming his chilled hands at the fire.
“I think it’s time to go before someone sees this mess and calls the police.”
He offered his hand to Dean who was rather happy to take it and have himself pulled to his feet. He looked around at the dull water and the broken top window and found himself wincing at how high his fall had actually been.
“Yeah, I think the pool boy will be pissed.”
They walked incredibly slow passing the doors to the pool area whose lock had been broken and down the hall. Sam was limping a little and he rubbed his thighs.
“Man, we’re so taking the elevator.”
Dean gave him a stern look. “We’re so not.”
As they passed the elevator’s door they saw gray smoke creeping up from the gap beneath it and Sam gave Dean an exasperated look.
“You didn’t crash the elevator!”
Dean shrugged and put on an innocent face.
“It wasn’t my fault that freak tried to claw its way through the cabin’s floor making the thing bump up and down so much the cables ripped…”
Sam stopped in his track staring at his older brother.
“And you forgot to mention that because…?”
Another shrug answered him and they entered the staircase looking down at the unhealthy prospect of sixteen flights of stairs. Sam’s pout grew exponentially.
“I hate stairs.”
They took the stairs at a pace that would have shamed a ninety-year-old grandmother, but Dean was already glad he didn’t trip and break his neck within the first few steps. His legs felt like they were made from jelly - he didn’t have an explanation for the stinging pain in his knees - and he found himself grabbing on to the rail for his life with his not screwed to hell arm.
When they came to the landing of the thirteenth floor their steps were greeted by a splashing sound and as they looked down there was water running from underneath the hallway door splashing down the stairs to the lower levels. Dean shot Sam an irritated look and found his brother with an uneasy look to him.
“Sam… I don’t want to jump to conclusions or anything but did you by any chance happen to flood that floor?”
Sam’s mouth was moving in the attempt to come up with a decent excuse but he gave it up.
“Yeah… kinda. But it was the Golem who ripped the fire hose from the wall.”
Dean found himself grinning as they walked on trying not to slip on the now wet stairs. “A fire hose? I told you every boy wants to be a fireman once in his life.”
Sam didn’t answer that but gave his older brother one more well practiced frown. “Dean… what do you think these things were really after? I mean they never tried to kill us until we got behind their little charade.”
Dean shrugged. He didn’t know and that was troubling him a lot but he wouldn’t let it on. It was bad enough if each of them had his own worst case scenarios running through their heads without spurring on each other’s imagination.
“Beats me. Maybe they just thought that this world needed much more handsome young men like us… although I gotta say that I’m getting pretty pissed that every evil bitch that doesn’t like its own visage seems to take on mine instead.”
Sam huffed.
“Yeah well… do you think this was one of Lilith’s plots?”
Dean nodded. “I sure hope so.”
Sam gaped at him.
“What? Are you mad? Did you hit your head once to often this week?”
Dean gave him a shrug that did not exactly deny the possibility.
“Well, think about it, Sammy. That must have been one hell of a puppet master at work there.”
He stopped to see if Sam was following and got a nod.
“Now don’t you think one evil bad ass bitch trying to chew off our asses is enough?”
Sam looked slightly stunned and Dean knew he got his drift as he nodded.
“You’re right. Let’s hope it was Lilith.”
Dean gave him a clap on the shoulder as they finally exited the staircase and sneaked out of the hotel. He was done for. Dean would sleep for a week and not even apocalypse would be able to wake him after this.
The End
A/N: That was it so PLEASE REVIEW!!!!!! This chapter’s title is “Laugh, I Nearly Died” by the Rolling Stones as heard in first season’s episode “Bloody Mary”.
Don't hate me for not giving up the puppet master... I just couldn't. There have to be more seasons! *LOL*
By the way... I have 3 favorite scenes in this fic.
1. Dean smashing through the back window of the Impala
2. The crashing elevator
3. dean taking the swan dive into the pool
Yeah I know there is kind of an m.o. there *g*. Of course I love Sam too, but he just didn't get his ass beat that well... Maybe I should change that some time.