Riding Out the Storm Chapter Three
Summary: The Winchesters travel to eliminate a deadly apocalypse-freed entity. But will they be able to stop it before it stops them?
Their motel room was much like any other room they'd ever been in; cheap and tacky, with a hint of cleanser smell that, for the most part, covered up the evidence of previous tenants.
Dean was just coming out of the shower; the need to 'wash the town off him', becoming too powerful to continue to put off. Sam was sitting at the small table by the covered window, hard at work on his laptop.
"Find anything?" Dean asked as he headed for his bag.
"Maybe," Sam replied without looking away from the screen. "I took into account what time of year this is. Says on this website, Ostara is one of the Lesser Wiccan Sabbats and is celebrated on the Spring Equinox, most often March 21st, but varies somewhat from the 20th to the 23rd."
"Yesterday was the 20th, wasn't it?" Dean commented.
"Yeah. Christians celebrate Easter near this same time and it's based on basically the same principles," Sam explained. "Easter is actually determined in a very Pagan manner... It's always the first Sunday after the first full moon after the Spring Equinox."
"So, what are you saying, exactly? Are we dealing with a evil Easter bunny?" he raised his brows as he pulled on a pair of jeans.
"What?" Sam shot him an incredulous look. "No... I'm just explaining Ostara..."
"Okay, well...so what are we dealing with, do you think?"
"Well," Sam looked back at his computer, "I was thinking about what we saw at the morgue...and the fact that Ostara is a time for celebration of fertility and balance. A time when all elements within and without are brought into harmony...a time of new life and rebirth-"
"Whoa whoa whoa," Dean interrupted. "You think that whatever crawled outta Sanders' body was planted there as part of some sick ritual?"
"It's the only thing that seems to make any sense," Sam grimaced a glance to his brother again. "I've checked everything else out about this town. There's nothing; no mysterious deaths or missing persons in the past year. Other than Sanders, of course. No reports of unusual activity or hauntings, Bobby said."
"So what... another god or something popping outta the woodwork? And it's hellbent on impregnating...men? With god knows what? I mean, if something did eat its way outta that guy, what was it, and where the hell is it now?"
"I have no idea the answer to any of those questions, Dean," Sam defended. "There's close to nothing to go on. Maybe we should check out Sanders' apartment; see if we can't find something the police might've missed."
"Yeah. Sounds like a plan," Dean agreed as he pulled on his jacket. "That, and we should look into whether or not this guy had any enemies."
________________________________________
Dean reentered Sanders' apartment after having talked to several of the neighbors. Sam was crouched down on the floor beside the couch. "Didn't get much outta the neighbors, except that he was mostly a private man," Dean told him as he approached. "That, and he was dating a pretty redheaded girl for about a month. She stopped comin' around about a week ago. No one knows her name, so I guess we need to try and talk to his family."
"Which we might be able to do tomorrow," Sam said. "They're flying in to make funeral arrangements."
"How do you know that?"
"Benny said something about it."
"When did you talk to Benny?" he sounded offended, and Sam looked up at him, furrowing his brow and cocking his head to the side a bit.
"On the way out," he replied. "I checked us out at the front desk while you headed back to the car, remember?"
"Oh," Dean shrugged and let out a small laugh. Then, almost as quickly, pasted on a serious face. "You find anything in here?"
"A lot of dried blood," he replied, looking back down at the couch as he pulled off one of the cushions. "Oh...oh gross," Sam grimaced and Dean moved around the couch to his side.
"What is it?"
"It's uh...it looks like...part of Sanders," he replied, pulling a tissue from a box on the coffee table, and retrieving the small bit of flesh that had fallen into the couch. Dean's eyelid twitched and he had to swallow a bit of bile that had begun to rise in his throat. Sometimes, Sam did the grossest things.
"Dude...what're you gonna do with that?"
"I'm looking at it," Sam defended.
"Do I need to be here for this?"
Sam raised his brows and looked over at his older brother, whose face was a slight tint of green. "No, Dean. You can go wait in the car, if you like. I think there's a teddy bear in the back seat."
Dean stood up and gave him his best 'bitch-face'. "Yeah... It's your teddy bear," he mumbled under his breath.
"What?"
"Nothing."
Sam decided to let it go, and went back to examining the bit of flesh. After a moment, he cocked his head to the side. "Hey," he glanced at his brother. "Got something I could write on?"
Dean glanced around the living room and spotted a sticky-notepad and pen. He grabbed them and handed them to Sam. "What is it? You find somethin'?"
"There's a symbol on the skin," he said as he set the flesh down and began to sketch.
"Oh, sick," Dean turned away. "What kinda symbol?"
"I'm not exactly sure. It might be some kinda numerology...some kinda Greek symbol. I think I've seen it before."
"Great. Are you done?" he asked, impatiently.
"Yeah," he stood and glanced at the paper before tucking it into his pocket.
"Good." Dean headed toward the door with Sam close behind him. Once they were in the hallway, he turned to his younger, yet taller brother, "You hungry?"
Sam raised an incredulous brow, "Seriously?"
________________________________________
Bobby Singer had gone through so many Ancient Greek mythology and lore books, that his head ached and his eyes burned, even more than normal. Once he'd received the picture message on his phone from Sam, he'd known where to look and surmised where else to reference as far as what might be going on.
What he found, wasn't going to make Sam very happy. Bobby knew him well enough to know that. But the call had to be made; answers had to be given. They needed to kill this thing and do it fast, before all hell could break loose.
He ''sucked it up'', picked up the phone, and dialed Sam's number...
________________________________________
Dean approached the door to their motel room, a to-go bag held by his teeth, a six-pack in one hand, as the other fished into his pocket for the key. He let himself in and grabbed the bag with his now free hand, then kicked the door shut behind him.
"I got us some cheeseburgers. They didn't have salad, so I just told 'em to mix up a bunch of the toppings in a bowl for ya; lettuce, tomatoes...uh..." he paused when he saw Sam's posture where he sat on the edge of the bed farthest from the door. He was slouched over, head hanging a bit. His elbows sat on his knees and he was staring at his hands. "Sam? What's wrong with you?" he asked as he set their dinner down on the table beside Sam's closed laptop.
"Bobby called," Sam said in a low voice. Dean caught sight of Sam's cell phone, where he'd undoubtedly thrown it on the bed. "This is my fault...yet again," he cocked his jaw before clenching it.
"What're you talkin' about?" Dean asked as he approached him, sinking down across from him on his own bed.
"This is happening because of me, Dean," he couldn't even look at him. "Because I jump-started the damn Apocalypse."
"C'mon, man," Dean shook his head, a small smile passing over his face. "You don't know-"
"Yeah, I do know," he met his eyes, then. "Bobby said so. And it makes perfect sense."
"What does?" Dean furrowed his brow.
Sam looked back down at his lap. "It's Gaia."
"It's what?" Dean made a face.
Sam sighed, "A Greek goddess...kinda like mother nature, basically. You were right about it...impregnating people, sorta," he explained. "That's what Bobby thinks she's doing. He says there's an ancient transcript that was intentionally buried a long time ago, that mentions that, 'in the afterworld, or the time of great war, Gaia will rise up, piercing the bodies of her enemies and injecting them with her next meal'."
"That's...that's awesome," Dean sarcastically remarked. "I don't think I follow, exactly."
"I think what it means, basically, is that she's impregnating them with some kind of embryo of a creature, that gestates pretty fast, fattens itself up by eating its way out of its host, then is drawn back to its 'mother'...and she eats it," he made a face as he met Dean's.
"Great," he stood. "Well, look at the bright side," he forced on a smile.
"And what's that, exactly?" Sam narrowed his eyes.
"At least we're back down to lookin' for one monster."
"Right..." he replied, then looked back down at his hands.
Dean rolled his eyes, "Look, Sammy, this isn't your fault-"
"Just save it, okay, Dean?" he said in almost a whisper. "We both know whose fault it is; regardless of the fact that I didn't know... Sanders died a horrible, gruesome death, because I didn't wanna believe that I was wrong about Ruby. More people are gonna die; one each night until the end of the Spring Equinox, at which point, a whole lot of people are gonna die, if we don't stop her. And we don't have a damn clue where she is."
"We're gonna stop her, Sam," Dean assured him. "We'll find her, and then we'll stop her. We've gone out on less in the past, right? We can do this. I promise, Sammy..." he waited a moment, looking for any sign that his brother might begin to relax. After a few moments, he saw Sam let out a breath, and took the opportunity to change the subject. "Now come on; gotta eat somethin' to keep our strength up."
"Dude, how can you even think about eating after what I just got through telling you?"
Dean reached into the paper bag, pulled out a plastic-sealed bowl of salad, and tossed it to Sam. "Do you really need to ask?" Dean smirked as he walked back over with his paper-wrapped burger and two beers, handing one to his younger brother.
Sam let out a breath as he shook his head...
Chapter Four
Their motel room was much like any other room they'd ever been in; cheap and tacky, with a hint of cleanser smell that, for the most part, covered up the evidence of previous tenants.
Dean was just coming out of the shower; the need to 'wash the town off him', becoming too powerful to continue to put off. Sam was sitting at the small table by the covered window, hard at work on his laptop.
"Find anything?" Dean asked as he headed for his bag.
"Maybe," Sam replied without looking away from the screen. "I took into account what time of year this is. Says on this website, Ostara is one of the Lesser Wiccan Sabbats and is celebrated on the Spring Equinox, most often March 21st, but varies somewhat from the 20th to the 23rd."
"Yesterday was the 20th, wasn't it?" Dean commented.
"Yeah. Christians celebrate Easter near this same time and it's based on basically the same principles," Sam explained. "Easter is actually determined in a very Pagan manner... It's always the first Sunday after the first full moon after the Spring Equinox."
"So, what are you saying, exactly? Are we dealing with a evil Easter bunny?" he raised his brows as he pulled on a pair of jeans.
"What?" Sam shot him an incredulous look. "No... I'm just explaining Ostara..."
"Okay, well...so what are we dealing with, do you think?"
"Well," Sam looked back at his computer, "I was thinking about what we saw at the morgue...and the fact that Ostara is a time for celebration of fertility and balance. A time when all elements within and without are brought into harmony...a time of new life and rebirth-"
"Whoa whoa whoa," Dean interrupted. "You think that whatever crawled outta Sanders' body was planted there as part of some sick ritual?"
"It's the only thing that seems to make any sense," Sam grimaced a glance to his brother again. "I've checked everything else out about this town. There's nothing; no mysterious deaths or missing persons in the past year. Other than Sanders, of course. No reports of unusual activity or hauntings, Bobby said."
"So what... another god or something popping outta the woodwork? And it's hellbent on impregnating...men? With god knows what? I mean, if something did eat its way outta that guy, what was it, and where the hell is it now?"
"I have no idea the answer to any of those questions, Dean," Sam defended. "There's close to nothing to go on. Maybe we should check out Sanders' apartment; see if we can't find something the police might've missed."
"Yeah. Sounds like a plan," Dean agreed as he pulled on his jacket. "That, and we should look into whether or not this guy had any enemies."
________________________________________
Dean reentered Sanders' apartment after having talked to several of the neighbors. Sam was crouched down on the floor beside the couch. "Didn't get much outta the neighbors, except that he was mostly a private man," Dean told him as he approached. "That, and he was dating a pretty redheaded girl for about a month. She stopped comin' around about a week ago. No one knows her name, so I guess we need to try and talk to his family."
"Which we might be able to do tomorrow," Sam said. "They're flying in to make funeral arrangements."
"How do you know that?"
"Benny said something about it."
"When did you talk to Benny?" he sounded offended, and Sam looked up at him, furrowing his brow and cocking his head to the side a bit.
"On the way out," he replied. "I checked us out at the front desk while you headed back to the car, remember?"
"Oh," Dean shrugged and let out a small laugh. Then, almost as quickly, pasted on a serious face. "You find anything in here?"
"A lot of dried blood," he replied, looking back down at the couch as he pulled off one of the cushions. "Oh...oh gross," Sam grimaced and Dean moved around the couch to his side.
"What is it?"
"It's uh...it looks like...part of Sanders," he replied, pulling a tissue from a box on the coffee table, and retrieving the small bit of flesh that had fallen into the couch. Dean's eyelid twitched and he had to swallow a bit of bile that had begun to rise in his throat. Sometimes, Sam did the grossest things.
"Dude...what're you gonna do with that?"
"I'm looking at it," Sam defended.
"Do I need to be here for this?"
Sam raised his brows and looked over at his older brother, whose face was a slight tint of green. "No, Dean. You can go wait in the car, if you like. I think there's a teddy bear in the back seat."
Dean stood up and gave him his best 'bitch-face'. "Yeah... It's your teddy bear," he mumbled under his breath.
"What?"
"Nothing."
Sam decided to let it go, and went back to examining the bit of flesh. After a moment, he cocked his head to the side. "Hey," he glanced at his brother. "Got something I could write on?"
Dean glanced around the living room and spotted a sticky-notepad and pen. He grabbed them and handed them to Sam. "What is it? You find somethin'?"
"There's a symbol on the skin," he said as he set the flesh down and began to sketch.
"Oh, sick," Dean turned away. "What kinda symbol?"
"I'm not exactly sure. It might be some kinda numerology...some kinda Greek symbol. I think I've seen it before."
"Great. Are you done?" he asked, impatiently.
"Yeah," he stood and glanced at the paper before tucking it into his pocket.
"Good." Dean headed toward the door with Sam close behind him. Once they were in the hallway, he turned to his younger, yet taller brother, "You hungry?"
Sam raised an incredulous brow, "Seriously?"
________________________________________
Bobby Singer had gone through so many Ancient Greek mythology and lore books, that his head ached and his eyes burned, even more than normal. Once he'd received the picture message on his phone from Sam, he'd known where to look and surmised where else to reference as far as what might be going on.
What he found, wasn't going to make Sam very happy. Bobby knew him well enough to know that. But the call had to be made; answers had to be given. They needed to kill this thing and do it fast, before all hell could break loose.
He ''sucked it up'', picked up the phone, and dialed Sam's number...
________________________________________
Dean approached the door to their motel room, a to-go bag held by his teeth, a six-pack in one hand, as the other fished into his pocket for the key. He let himself in and grabbed the bag with his now free hand, then kicked the door shut behind him.
"I got us some cheeseburgers. They didn't have salad, so I just told 'em to mix up a bunch of the toppings in a bowl for ya; lettuce, tomatoes...uh..." he paused when he saw Sam's posture where he sat on the edge of the bed farthest from the door. He was slouched over, head hanging a bit. His elbows sat on his knees and he was staring at his hands. "Sam? What's wrong with you?" he asked as he set their dinner down on the table beside Sam's closed laptop.
"Bobby called," Sam said in a low voice. Dean caught sight of Sam's cell phone, where he'd undoubtedly thrown it on the bed. "This is my fault...yet again," he cocked his jaw before clenching it.
"What're you talkin' about?" Dean asked as he approached him, sinking down across from him on his own bed.
"This is happening because of me, Dean," he couldn't even look at him. "Because I jump-started the damn Apocalypse."
"C'mon, man," Dean shook his head, a small smile passing over his face. "You don't know-"
"Yeah, I do know," he met his eyes, then. "Bobby said so. And it makes perfect sense."
"What does?" Dean furrowed his brow.
Sam looked back down at his lap. "It's Gaia."
"It's what?" Dean made a face.
Sam sighed, "A Greek goddess...kinda like mother nature, basically. You were right about it...impregnating people, sorta," he explained. "That's what Bobby thinks she's doing. He says there's an ancient transcript that was intentionally buried a long time ago, that mentions that, 'in the afterworld, or the time of great war, Gaia will rise up, piercing the bodies of her enemies and injecting them with her next meal'."
"That's...that's awesome," Dean sarcastically remarked. "I don't think I follow, exactly."
"I think what it means, basically, is that she's impregnating them with some kind of embryo of a creature, that gestates pretty fast, fattens itself up by eating its way out of its host, then is drawn back to its 'mother'...and she eats it," he made a face as he met Dean's.
"Great," he stood. "Well, look at the bright side," he forced on a smile.
"And what's that, exactly?" Sam narrowed his eyes.
"At least we're back down to lookin' for one monster."
"Right..." he replied, then looked back down at his hands.
Dean rolled his eyes, "Look, Sammy, this isn't your fault-"
"Just save it, okay, Dean?" he said in almost a whisper. "We both know whose fault it is; regardless of the fact that I didn't know... Sanders died a horrible, gruesome death, because I didn't wanna believe that I was wrong about Ruby. More people are gonna die; one each night until the end of the Spring Equinox, at which point, a whole lot of people are gonna die, if we don't stop her. And we don't have a damn clue where she is."
"We're gonna stop her, Sam," Dean assured him. "We'll find her, and then we'll stop her. We've gone out on less in the past, right? We can do this. I promise, Sammy..." he waited a moment, looking for any sign that his brother might begin to relax. After a few moments, he saw Sam let out a breath, and took the opportunity to change the subject. "Now come on; gotta eat somethin' to keep our strength up."
"Dude, how can you even think about eating after what I just got through telling you?"
Dean reached into the paper bag, pulled out a plastic-sealed bowl of salad, and tossed it to Sam. "Do you really need to ask?" Dean smirked as he walked back over with his paper-wrapped burger and two beers, handing one to his younger brother.
Sam let out a breath as he shook his head...
Chapter Four