Eternal Memories (4/11)
Category: Supernatural
Title: Eternal Memories (4/11)
Genre: Angst/Hurt/Comfort
Rating: Fiction Rated: T
Betas: Yor and Kaz - thank you both!
Summary: Something's wrong with Sam’s visions, a building collapses and something evil lurks in the dark - the Winchesters have their hands full once again. Takes place after Dead Man’s Blood.
Chapter 4
His head hurt - a lot! That was the first thing Sam noticed as he slowly regained consciousness. It was dark and he wondered how he could not have noticed it had turned night. It took him a minute to realize it was dark because his eyes were still closed. Another minute passed before he thought of opening them.
“Sam, you with me?”
Dean’s voice rang loud in his ears and increased the pounding in his head ten fold. He turned his head from the voice and opened his eyes, wincing as he was blinded by a white light.
“What the …” He mumbled, quickly closing his eyes again.
“Sorry.” His father’s voice muttered.
Sam groaned and forced his eyes open again. You didn’t play weak with John Winchester in the room.
“Sam?” Dean asked again.
This time Sam was prepared and listening didn’t hurt quite as much.
“Headache.” Sam choked out.
“Yeah, no shit.” Dean smirked.
A moment later, Sam felt himself lifted up to a sitting position. The world tilted to one side as his stomach flipped from the movement; he was pretty sure he was going to throw up at any moment. A steadying hand on his shoulder reminded him that his father was right next to him - and throwing up was much less an option than being weak. He had learned that painful lesson ten years ago when he had thrown up on one of his father’s favorite weapons placed on the Impala’s backseat - right in the middle of a hunt.
So he swallowed down the bile in his throat and waited for something else to happen. Most likely they wouldn’t just let him sit here like this, right? Wherever here was. He hadn’t quite found the courage to try and move his head to look around. Concentrating on Dean’s face in front of him was challenging enough just now.
“Here.” Dean handed him a glass of water and four white pills.
Sam accepted them gratefully.
Half an hour later he felt good enough to have get up from the ground and to sit on the bed, his elbows resting on his knees, head propped up in his hands.
“Did you have another vision?” John asked.
“Dad.” Dean looked at his father pleadingly. Not yet!
“Sam?” John ignored him and looked expectantly at his youngest son.
Sam took a deep breath and looked at his father. “Yes. Same one as before.”
“Dead woman, blood on the walls.” John said. It wasn’t a question.
Sam nodded and immediately flinched at the movement.
“You passed out.” Dean stated. He looked at him half worried, half accusingly.
“Sorry.” Sam said sheepishly.
Dean rolled his eyes. “It’s not like it was your fault.”
Sam puffed. He wished Dean would make up his mind. “I know what happened.”
“You had a vision about the murder?” John asked.
“No, a woman who works here told me about it. It must have happened ten, maybe fifteen years ago.” Sam told them. “Her husband stabbed her. Rumor had it she had an affair.”
“Okay then, case closed.” Dean shrugged.
Sam glared at him angrily. “We don’t really know what happened, either here or at the field.”
“You saw it before the pain came?” Dean asked.
“Yes.”
“So it wasn’t like a real vision.”
Sam was pretty sure he must have misunderstood his brother.
Dean squirmed under Sam’s surprised and hurt glare. “You know what I mean.”
“All I know is that I saw a dead woman in here… and walls full of blood!” Sam snapped. “And I saw a freaking Cowboy and Indian battle live and in color!”
“Sam!” John silenced him.
Sam glared angrily at his family. “This has to mean something!”
“We can always come back later, Sam.” Dean tried to reason with his brother. “If Caleb really has information that can help us kill the yellow eyed bastard, then we can’t risk being late. It’s more important.”
Sam knew Dean was right. He wanted to find the demon and finally end this as much as his father and brother. He did want it more than anything.
To ignore these visions though? He didn’t care if the pain had come before or after or if what he had seen had already happened - to him the experience had felt real. It had to mean something!
“This isn’t up for discussion. We’ll leave first thing tomorrow morning. Be ready!” John effectively ended the conversation and left the room.
Dean and Sam looked at each other, but neither of them said another word.
---SPN---
Leaving the next day proved more difficult than the Winchesters had thought. Rain returned in the night and the only road leading to Lincoln, Nebraska, where Caleb had been living for the last couple of years, was now closed because of flooding. The rain had stopped in the morning, but it wasn’t likely that the road would be opened again anytime soon. Flood waters took some time to recede.
John had taken the news with a stoic face before he had retreated to his room, mumbling something about possible leads and more research and not getting into any kind of trouble. The last part was most likely directed at his sons.
Sam used the extra time to find out more about the “mystery” of his visions. Dean didn’t quite see the use in it. Sure, the visions had been strange, but what Sam had seen already happened - there was nothing they could do to change it.
So with nothing else to do and both members of his family locked up in the hotel, Dean decided to go for a walk. He hoped to get a look at some of the classic cars being shown at the fair. Even if the area was closed to the public for safety reasons, he might be able to see something from the distance or cars since moved out.
He was sitting on a bench, about sixty feet away from the grounds - the closest he was able to get - when a man, from the looks only a few years older than Dean, sat down next to him.
“Quite a view, huh?” He said.
“Yeah.” Dean nodded. “I wish we could get closer.”
“Yes, freaking rain. I thought there’d be more time to have a look at the cars. I’m Matt.” He quickly added.
“Dean.” He introduced himself. “So you’re not from here?”
“No, just passing through. Hey, is that your Chevy in front of the Marillin Inn?” Matt asked.
“Yes, it is. 1967 Impala. How’d you know?” Dean asked, suspicions against this stranger immediately rising. He cursed himself for letting even more details slip about his car. It was something that had been drilled into him since a very young age - never trust strangers who knew too much about you.
“I drove by you on the road and I saw you later standing in front of it. It’s quite a beauty.”
“Drove by?” Dean breathed out, relieved to find his suspicions unwarranted. There had only been one person able to drive by him during the traffic jam. “That motorcycle belongs to you?”
“Yep. Always brings me to where I need to be.” Matt smiled.
Dean laughed quietly. “I have to say, for a moment I envied you. We were stuck in that jam for over two hours.”
“It certainly has it advantages. Though it sucks driving through rain.” He laughed.
The ringing of Dean’s phone stopped him from replying. One glance at the screen told him that it was his brother calling.
“Hey, Sam. Had enough brooding? What do you say we go look for a nice bar and …”
“I found something, Dean.” Sam interrupted his brother.
Dean rolled his eyes and let out a frustrated breath. Couldn’t they just enjoy one day in between? “What?” He inquired despite not really wanting to know.
“I did an online search for anything strange about this town.” Sam started.
“And?”
“There is an unusual high amount of people disappearing in the area. I’ve only been able to go back about a hundred years, but I bet it goes even farther.”
“That’s it?” Dean asked, unimpressed. “People disappear all the time, Sam.”
“Not that many. At least not in a town of this size. And many of them left behind families … husbands, wives, kids. They disappeared without any indication there had been problems.” Sam went on, the determination in his voice telling Dean his brother wouldn’t let go of this easily.
He glanced at his new acquaintance; Matt did his best to not appear to be eavesdropping, but they were still sitting next to each other on the bench and he had to be deaf to not hear every word Dean was saying. He didn’t like discussing their job in front of strangers.
“Why don’t we talk about this over a beer?” He suggested.
“Dean …”
“Come on, Sam, this is a big stretch, and you know it. I’m not planning to be cooped up in that hotel room all day. So we either talk about this in a bar or a diner or while driving the Impala through town or we don’t. Maybe Dad would like to talk this through with you.” He added as an afterthought.
Sam’s exasperated groan, clearly audible through the phone, told him that he had won the argument.
“Fine. Where are you?” Sam asked.
“I’ll meet you at the hotel; we can go looking for a bar from there. Give me ten minutes.”
He flipped his phone closed and turned back to Matt.
“My brother.” He explained.
“How’s he doing? I hope he feels better.” Matt said.
Immediately, Dean’s suspicions were back. “What do you mean?”
“Oh, uh …” Matt gave him a small smile. “Sorry, I thought you’d seen me. I was in the corridor when your brother … collapsed. I would have helped, but it seemed as if you had things under control and, well, I didn’t want to intrude.”
Dean didn’t know what to say to that. He hated knowing that someone had watched Sam during one of his visions - or whatever it was that was going on with him right now. He also hated people forcing their help on him and his family. So in a way he was grateful that Matt had held back.
Still, it felt odd. What kind of person sees someone collapsing right in front of him and doesn’t offer help? Not a good person, that was for sure.
He was still considering his next words, when a loud rumble was heard - it sounded as if something huge had just completely collapsed.
“What the hell was that?” He asked startled.
Matt paled. “It can’t be. It’s too soon.” He stammered. A shadow crossed over his face and he looked at Dean with remorse. “I’m sorry, I have to go.”
Before Dean could say anything else, Matt jumped up and ran down the street. Utterly confused, Dean watched him disappear behind a corner. He felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach and pulled out his phone to call his brother.
His worry increased when he only reached Sam’s voicemail.
He tried to call his father next - with the same result.
He wasn’t able to reach his family. Dean’s panic multiplied by a hundred when he heard the sound of sirens ringing in the air - something horrible had happened.
Jumping up from the bench, he started running down the street, back to the hotel, hoping that whatever had happened had nothing to do with the building he had left his family in.
When Dean finally reached the Marillin Inn a few minutes later, he stopped dead in his tracks, staring in horror at the empty space in front of him.
Where just a few minutes ago a four story building had stood, Dean now only saw a gaping hole in the ground.
The hotel was gone.
And so was his family.
TBC
Title: Eternal Memories (4/11)
Genre: Angst/Hurt/Comfort
Rating: Fiction Rated: T
Betas: Yor and Kaz - thank you both!
Summary: Something's wrong with Sam’s visions, a building collapses and something evil lurks in the dark - the Winchesters have their hands full once again. Takes place after Dead Man’s Blood.
Chapter 4
His head hurt - a lot! That was the first thing Sam noticed as he slowly regained consciousness. It was dark and he wondered how he could not have noticed it had turned night. It took him a minute to realize it was dark because his eyes were still closed. Another minute passed before he thought of opening them.
“Sam, you with me?”
Dean’s voice rang loud in his ears and increased the pounding in his head ten fold. He turned his head from the voice and opened his eyes, wincing as he was blinded by a white light.
“What the …” He mumbled, quickly closing his eyes again.
“Sorry.” His father’s voice muttered.
Sam groaned and forced his eyes open again. You didn’t play weak with John Winchester in the room.
“Sam?” Dean asked again.
This time Sam was prepared and listening didn’t hurt quite as much.
“Headache.” Sam choked out.
“Yeah, no shit.” Dean smirked.
A moment later, Sam felt himself lifted up to a sitting position. The world tilted to one side as his stomach flipped from the movement; he was pretty sure he was going to throw up at any moment. A steadying hand on his shoulder reminded him that his father was right next to him - and throwing up was much less an option than being weak. He had learned that painful lesson ten years ago when he had thrown up on one of his father’s favorite weapons placed on the Impala’s backseat - right in the middle of a hunt.
So he swallowed down the bile in his throat and waited for something else to happen. Most likely they wouldn’t just let him sit here like this, right? Wherever here was. He hadn’t quite found the courage to try and move his head to look around. Concentrating on Dean’s face in front of him was challenging enough just now.
“Here.” Dean handed him a glass of water and four white pills.
Sam accepted them gratefully.
Half an hour later he felt good enough to have get up from the ground and to sit on the bed, his elbows resting on his knees, head propped up in his hands.
“Did you have another vision?” John asked.
“Dad.” Dean looked at his father pleadingly. Not yet!
“Sam?” John ignored him and looked expectantly at his youngest son.
Sam took a deep breath and looked at his father. “Yes. Same one as before.”
“Dead woman, blood on the walls.” John said. It wasn’t a question.
Sam nodded and immediately flinched at the movement.
“You passed out.” Dean stated. He looked at him half worried, half accusingly.
“Sorry.” Sam said sheepishly.
Dean rolled his eyes. “It’s not like it was your fault.”
Sam puffed. He wished Dean would make up his mind. “I know what happened.”
“You had a vision about the murder?” John asked.
“No, a woman who works here told me about it. It must have happened ten, maybe fifteen years ago.” Sam told them. “Her husband stabbed her. Rumor had it she had an affair.”
“Okay then, case closed.” Dean shrugged.
Sam glared at him angrily. “We don’t really know what happened, either here or at the field.”
“You saw it before the pain came?” Dean asked.
“Yes.”
“So it wasn’t like a real vision.”
Sam was pretty sure he must have misunderstood his brother.
Dean squirmed under Sam’s surprised and hurt glare. “You know what I mean.”
“All I know is that I saw a dead woman in here… and walls full of blood!” Sam snapped. “And I saw a freaking Cowboy and Indian battle live and in color!”
“Sam!” John silenced him.
Sam glared angrily at his family. “This has to mean something!”
“We can always come back later, Sam.” Dean tried to reason with his brother. “If Caleb really has information that can help us kill the yellow eyed bastard, then we can’t risk being late. It’s more important.”
Sam knew Dean was right. He wanted to find the demon and finally end this as much as his father and brother. He did want it more than anything.
To ignore these visions though? He didn’t care if the pain had come before or after or if what he had seen had already happened - to him the experience had felt real. It had to mean something!
“This isn’t up for discussion. We’ll leave first thing tomorrow morning. Be ready!” John effectively ended the conversation and left the room.
Dean and Sam looked at each other, but neither of them said another word.
---SPN---
Leaving the next day proved more difficult than the Winchesters had thought. Rain returned in the night and the only road leading to Lincoln, Nebraska, where Caleb had been living for the last couple of years, was now closed because of flooding. The rain had stopped in the morning, but it wasn’t likely that the road would be opened again anytime soon. Flood waters took some time to recede.
John had taken the news with a stoic face before he had retreated to his room, mumbling something about possible leads and more research and not getting into any kind of trouble. The last part was most likely directed at his sons.
Sam used the extra time to find out more about the “mystery” of his visions. Dean didn’t quite see the use in it. Sure, the visions had been strange, but what Sam had seen already happened - there was nothing they could do to change it.
So with nothing else to do and both members of his family locked up in the hotel, Dean decided to go for a walk. He hoped to get a look at some of the classic cars being shown at the fair. Even if the area was closed to the public for safety reasons, he might be able to see something from the distance or cars since moved out.
He was sitting on a bench, about sixty feet away from the grounds - the closest he was able to get - when a man, from the looks only a few years older than Dean, sat down next to him.
“Quite a view, huh?” He said.
“Yeah.” Dean nodded. “I wish we could get closer.”
“Yes, freaking rain. I thought there’d be more time to have a look at the cars. I’m Matt.” He quickly added.
“Dean.” He introduced himself. “So you’re not from here?”
“No, just passing through. Hey, is that your Chevy in front of the Marillin Inn?” Matt asked.
“Yes, it is. 1967 Impala. How’d you know?” Dean asked, suspicions against this stranger immediately rising. He cursed himself for letting even more details slip about his car. It was something that had been drilled into him since a very young age - never trust strangers who knew too much about you.
“I drove by you on the road and I saw you later standing in front of it. It’s quite a beauty.”
“Drove by?” Dean breathed out, relieved to find his suspicions unwarranted. There had only been one person able to drive by him during the traffic jam. “That motorcycle belongs to you?”
“Yep. Always brings me to where I need to be.” Matt smiled.
Dean laughed quietly. “I have to say, for a moment I envied you. We were stuck in that jam for over two hours.”
“It certainly has it advantages. Though it sucks driving through rain.” He laughed.
The ringing of Dean’s phone stopped him from replying. One glance at the screen told him that it was his brother calling.
“Hey, Sam. Had enough brooding? What do you say we go look for a nice bar and …”
“I found something, Dean.” Sam interrupted his brother.
Dean rolled his eyes and let out a frustrated breath. Couldn’t they just enjoy one day in between? “What?” He inquired despite not really wanting to know.
“I did an online search for anything strange about this town.” Sam started.
“And?”
“There is an unusual high amount of people disappearing in the area. I’ve only been able to go back about a hundred years, but I bet it goes even farther.”
“That’s it?” Dean asked, unimpressed. “People disappear all the time, Sam.”
“Not that many. At least not in a town of this size. And many of them left behind families … husbands, wives, kids. They disappeared without any indication there had been problems.” Sam went on, the determination in his voice telling Dean his brother wouldn’t let go of this easily.
He glanced at his new acquaintance; Matt did his best to not appear to be eavesdropping, but they were still sitting next to each other on the bench and he had to be deaf to not hear every word Dean was saying. He didn’t like discussing their job in front of strangers.
“Why don’t we talk about this over a beer?” He suggested.
“Dean …”
“Come on, Sam, this is a big stretch, and you know it. I’m not planning to be cooped up in that hotel room all day. So we either talk about this in a bar or a diner or while driving the Impala through town or we don’t. Maybe Dad would like to talk this through with you.” He added as an afterthought.
Sam’s exasperated groan, clearly audible through the phone, told him that he had won the argument.
“Fine. Where are you?” Sam asked.
“I’ll meet you at the hotel; we can go looking for a bar from there. Give me ten minutes.”
He flipped his phone closed and turned back to Matt.
“My brother.” He explained.
“How’s he doing? I hope he feels better.” Matt said.
Immediately, Dean’s suspicions were back. “What do you mean?”
“Oh, uh …” Matt gave him a small smile. “Sorry, I thought you’d seen me. I was in the corridor when your brother … collapsed. I would have helped, but it seemed as if you had things under control and, well, I didn’t want to intrude.”
Dean didn’t know what to say to that. He hated knowing that someone had watched Sam during one of his visions - or whatever it was that was going on with him right now. He also hated people forcing their help on him and his family. So in a way he was grateful that Matt had held back.
Still, it felt odd. What kind of person sees someone collapsing right in front of him and doesn’t offer help? Not a good person, that was for sure.
He was still considering his next words, when a loud rumble was heard - it sounded as if something huge had just completely collapsed.
“What the hell was that?” He asked startled.
Matt paled. “It can’t be. It’s too soon.” He stammered. A shadow crossed over his face and he looked at Dean with remorse. “I’m sorry, I have to go.”
Before Dean could say anything else, Matt jumped up and ran down the street. Utterly confused, Dean watched him disappear behind a corner. He felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach and pulled out his phone to call his brother.
His worry increased when he only reached Sam’s voicemail.
He tried to call his father next - with the same result.
He wasn’t able to reach his family. Dean’s panic multiplied by a hundred when he heard the sound of sirens ringing in the air - something horrible had happened.
Jumping up from the bench, he started running down the street, back to the hotel, hoping that whatever had happened had nothing to do with the building he had left his family in.
When Dean finally reached the Marillin Inn a few minutes later, he stopped dead in his tracks, staring in horror at the empty space in front of him.
Where just a few minutes ago a four story building had stood, Dean now only saw a gaping hole in the ground.
The hotel was gone.
And so was his family.
TBC