Lift me Up [1/?]
Welcome to the rework of Lift me Up. I'd really like to finish this, and I'm hoping going back over all the chapters and sharing them with more readers will help me finish this story which was originally started for my friend ramenparty
Title: Lift me Up
Show: Supernatural
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, AU
Characters: Dean, Sam and Bobby
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters from Supernatural
Summary: The boys have to face Dean's deal, one year left to live and a lot of demons to kill. Enter a creature until now only rumor, which will change Dean's life forever. -Originally written at a friend's prompt, before season 3 started-
Dean looked up at the house looming in the moonless night and attempted without success to see it through the eyes of the local kids. The ones that had started the challenges that lead to several brutal deaths, why they felt the need to enter into places already shadowed by death he’d never understand. But since Dean had been entering these places from such a young age, he no longer saw them as a threat, at least not to himself. He was careful, had to be when dealing with the insubstantial, but Dean had been trained by the best, and caught off guard or not he and Sam always found a way to deal.
Dean blinked himself back to reality with a subtle shake of his head, still able to clearly see his father’s face, to know that he’d made John proud. That more than a little good had come out of last month’s events.
This however was neither the time nor place to be considering those ‘events’ that had left him with a recently acquired expiration date. Sam absolutely seethed whenever he referred to it like that, but Sam also knew it was his brother’s way. Dean had never stared death in the face quite like this before; the fact that he had on several other occasions, remained endlessly amusing to him. Dean all but threw aside the five stages of death, never liking to stick to the rules there was never enough time for that.
“Let’s go,” he said softly to Sam, needing to keep his focus tight. He took a firmer grip on his shotgun and stepped away from the Impala.
“Janice Crown was the first to die,” Sam informed brown eyes flickering from Dean’s face back to the house as they slowly made their way towards it. “From apparently ‘natural’ causes, since her husband was able to cremate her.”
Dean nodded, they’d known they were dealing with spirits right off the bat, a family slaughtered in their farm house nearly fifty years ago, had left the house abandoned ever since. Except for the kids who felt they need to tempt faith, “It’s never just a salt and burn…” Dean sighed bitterly.
“At least the boy wasn’t seriously hurt,” Sam clicked on his flashlight as they stepped up onto the large veranda.
“What the hell was he doing here in the first place?” it hadn’t been that long since a group of teenagers had been massacred in the old Crown home.
Sam pushed open the door loose on its hinges his flashlight illuminating the large front room, “I spoke with one of the officers,” Sam returned softly and they entered the house guns raised before them. “Apparently his sister was one of the kids that died he was looking for something that belonged to her, a locket or something.”
“Well maybe we can find it while we’re here…” they’d taken a different approach to this haunting. It had been a source of tension between the two of them Dean understood the vow Sam had made to him, but he wasn’t going to let the deal he’d made to bring Sam back from the dead stop him from hunting. They’d come to an agreement after some research had brought them to this house where the family had been buried; they’d salted and burned them all. It wasn’t until later that they realized Janice hadn’t been among them.
“It’s going to be hard enough to find what’s left of Janice, if it’s even here,” Sam commented darkly.
Dean’s lips quirked at that, “Sam have I told you, you’re bring pessimism to a whole new level?” his brother rolled his eyes at that but they continued moving forward. “Somehow I don’t think Janice will let us remove her from this house without a fight.”
The house was utterly silent, oppressive as Dean edged towards the staircase at the center of the home. It wasn’t hard to tell when Janice caught on to their intentions. Dean felt the temperature around them drop, hazel and brown eyes searched the shadows around them, “Take the second floor Sam, I’ll check down here.”
Sam nodded moving towards the stairs his long legs carrying him up and out of sight in seconds. Dean pressed on into rooms layered in dust and debris the beam of his flashlight searching for anything that might possibly have been remains of Janice. Through Sam’s research Dean had an idea of what to look for, most likely hair made into some memorial, jewelry was the most common. Sweeping the walls quickly Dean took note of the broken glass of the old picture frames quickly searching them before continuing on.
He could hear the floor boards creek above his head as Sam did the same. None of the kids who’d ever entered the house, had made it far, either the stories they told one another had them running inside of five minutes, or they lost their lives. So Dean found that the majority of the house was untouched by time, thick cobwebs clung to the furniture and each footstep he took sent up a tiny puff of dust. The wooden floor groaned beneath him, and Dean suddenly felt very unsure of his standing.
The temperature bottomed out around him, the tiny hairs on the back of his neck rising in warning, he was being watched. Turning as quickly as he dared Dean found himself face to face with Janice, sunken eyes staring right through him. Raising his shotgun Dean fired off a round of rock salt while backing up. His aim was true the salt tore through Janice her apparition loosing definition immediately. Dean didn’t see anything after that, with a threatening crack the floor gave way beneath him.
The fall was short with an abrupt and painful landing, his head bounced off the rubble below sending sparks flaring across his vision. For a second Dean felt sure he was going to black out, but he fought to keep awake, hand still tightly gripping his shotgun. Vaguely Dean was aware of shouts above him, though they sounded so far away. He blinked eyes watering against the dust and sharp pain in the back of his head. Dean wanted to be able to take a moment to gather himself, but didn’t know if he even had the time.
---SPN---
The disruption had happened so suddenly a breech forming in the space above, and in he came crashing to the floor. Surprised It watched from the shadows curious wanting to get a better look. As the dust began to settle It ventured closer unable to control the need to get a better look. It liked the look of this one; even now he struggled to get up, eyes blinking rapidly though It was pretty sure he wasn’t seeing much. Groans escaped him and words, short words, words It wanted to learn the meaning of. But there was only one way for that, It hadn’t felt compelled in a long time.
---SPN---
“Fuck…” Dean groaned finally managing to get a hand across his eyes scrubbing the liquid from them trying to bring himself around.
“Dean!” he heard his name shouted above, but couldn’t seem to coordinate himself so he could look up.
“Yeah Sammy…” he pushed past his lips hand moving from his eyes to the back of his head, he could feel his heart pounding there, and had to work doubly hard to suppress a groan.
“I’m coming down for you!” it sounded like Sam had shouted it.
Flinching Dean finally managed to look up through the floorboards, “Please, take your time,” he spoke to the empty space where Sam had been kneeling. Glancing around his surroundings with eyes finally willing to see clearly, Dean felt around for his flashlight, having lost it in the fall. His fingers gripped it quickly and it turned it back on, the cellar was nearly empty around him the air thick with dust.
At the far end of the open low ceiling room was a door he expected Sam to come bursting through at any moment. Sure enough a second or two later the door was nearly yanked off its hinges as Sam forced his way into the room. He had to duck his head in order to fit, Sam’s hand shot to his eyes to shield them from Dean’s harsh light, “Are you alright?!” he demanded coming immediately to where Dean sat amongst the broken floorboards.
“Did you find it?” Dean deflected the question with one of his own.
“Yeah,” Sam humored him, voice lowering as his own flashlight began a slow sweep over Dean’s body. “Found it right before I heard you fall through the floor, can you stand?”
“Of course,” he bushed Sam’s hand aside as he got to his feet, “Makes you wonder why she came to see me if you were the threat…” Dean muttered rubbing at the back of his head, the pain had dissipated to a dull throb but it was still gnawing.
“How’s your head?” Sam moved around behind him his hands reaching for Dean.
Twisting away Dean shot his brother a look, “I’m fine,” he said defensively moving towards the door.
“Dean you fell through the floor.”
“Thanks for stating the obvious,” Dean didn’t allow himself to be pulled to a halt but climbed the stairs quickly and made for the back door of the kitchen wanting to get out and into the fresh air as fast as he could.
Sam was right behind him, and once out into the cool night air Dean found himself pulled to a halt, “Will you just hold up for one minute?” Sam demanded, eyes narrowed stubbornly.
Unable to suppress the need to sigh Dean turned to face Sam, “I just want to go back to the motel and shower,” he could still taste the dust and had to fight the need to cough.
“And I’d like to make sure you don’t have a concussion,” Sam retorted quickly, “Keys,” he all but demanded holding out his hand. Dean’s own hazel eyes narrowed at that unwilling to just hand over the keys to the Impala, and even less likely to do it with Sam questioning him. “You’ve handed them over before,” Sam pointed out voice the epitome of calm.
“I said I was fine,” Dean swiped a hand down his face feeling the dust cling to his skin.
“I’ve driven when you were fine before,” was Sam’s counter.
Striding towards the car Dean reached for the keys in his jean pocket intent on opening the truck to stow the guns away. His brother was right on top of him the minute they left his pocket Sam made a grab and much to Dean’s disgust he wasn’t able to pull back in time. “Sam,” he barked the name as Sam opened the trunk and quickly made the Keys disappear.
“What?” his brother asked all too innocently, as he put his own shotgun into the compartment.
Dean had to resist the urge to throw the weapon at his little brother’s smug face, in the end he just put the gun down and closed the trunk too tired to argue. Sam was already making his way towards the driver’s side door, Dean took a moment to try and brush the worst of the dust off himself before climbing in. The drive back to their motel room was quiet, no music playing to break silence between them.
“You’re head’s really bothering you,” Sam said more as a statement of fact than a question, as he turned the Impala into the motel parking lot.
“Huh?” Dean blinked only to find himself looking at his own hand, fingers massaging the skin above his eyes. He dropped his hand immediately, and shrugged, he hadn’t realized the ache had shifted to behind his eyes.
Sam parked the car and turned to look across the seat, “Dean, you might have a concussion.”
Rolling his eyes Dean got out of the car, and walked towards the hotel room, pulling the key from his coat pocket. Sam was right behind him, brown eyes boring into the back of his head, “Sam I know you’re smart enough to stop stating the obvious.”
“And I would have thought you were smart enough to not ignore a head injury.”
They walked into the small room, Dean making a beeline for the bathroom, but Sam caught his arm his grip firm, “Just let me take a look.”
Dean shrugged out of his leather jacket and dropped down into a chair with a sigh, Sam wasn’t going to relax until he’d been satisfied. And Dean knew he’d have been just as pushy if roles were reversed, but that wasn’t really enough for him to just give in whenever Sam thought it was necessary. His brother moved into the bathroom and soaked a cloth under a rush of water, within seconds he was walking back towards Dean.
Switching on a lamp behind Dean, Sam began to brush the cloth through the hair on the back of Dean’s head. He winced slightly when Sam hit the most tender spot, but he didn’t pull away or say a word. “You’ve got quite a lump here,” Sam spoke softly, his long fingers probing around the wound.
“Is that all?” Dean breathed moving away from Sam’s fingers and coming to his feet.
“I’ll leave you some hot water,” he tossed over his shoulder as he walked into the bathroom.
Dean stripped off his dusty clothes pilling them on the floor near the sink, before his eyes met his reflection in the mirror. There was dirt smeared across his face and neck, and slowly forming bruises on his sides and back. Taking a moment to look at them Dean didn’t remember noticing any pain from his fall, besides his head. Even now as he moved he didn’t feel the twinges of pain that should have accompanied those bruises. Shrugging is aside Dean climbed into the shower, sure he’d be feeling it in the morning.
---SPN---
-The sunlight was bright and warm on his face as Dean’s bare feet carried him across the short grass of the backyard. He couldn’t contain a giggle from escaping him as his bright hazel eyes search for a place he could hide. Getting down on hands and knees Dean pushed his way under one of the bushes in the yard, peeking through the thick leaves to see if mommy was coming for him yet. A small hand went to his mouth to keep another giggle from escaping; she always had such a hard time finding him.
“Fifty!” mummy announced as she turned away from the house one hand placed above her eyes as she looked around the yard. Dean was proud to say he could count up to twenty, mummy was teaching him something new each day.
Dean ducked down lower in his hiding place, an excited tremor running through him as mummy walked around the yard, “Where’s my Dean?” she called softly her voice nearly eliciting another laugh from his small body.
“Oh Dean?” her voice sing-songed. Dean watched as she crouched down not far from where he hid, green eyes searching the shadows.
He couldn’t contain it any longer, a giggle escaped him and mummy looked towards him, “I didn’t know my bushes could giggle,” she laughed coming towards Dean’s hiding place, “Daddy will never believe me.”
Dean suddenly had an idea, pulling his legs under him, he waited until mummy’s hands were almost touching the bush, and then he leapt forward, “Supwise!!” he shouted arms reaching above his head.
Mummy gasped in surprise a hand going to her heart, “Dean!” she laughed taking him into her arms and hugging him tight.-
--spn--
-Dean worked the little glove over his hand with daddy’s help, smiling ear to ear as he closed his hand and watched the mitt do the same. Daddy had said he was going to teach Dean a new game; he was going to teach him to play catch. Dean bounced on his toes in excitement, wide eyes watching Daddy as he slipped his much larger hand into a mitt like Dean’s and picked up the ball he’d brought out with them.
“You ready Ace?” Daddy asked tossing the ball up and down in his hand. Dean nodded enthusiastically, “Alright,” Daddy smiled, “We’ll start out slow, just try and catch the ball with your mitt.”
Moving back a couple of steps Daddy gently tossed the ball towards Dean, he reached out with the mitt, and felt the ball connect, but it bounced off and rolled a few feet away. Undeterred Dean ran to get the ball and lobbed it back towards Daddy; he caught it, mitt closing around it, “You want to try again Ace?” he asked.
“Yeah!” Dean cheered jumping up and down.
“Okay, keep your eye on the ball,” he encouraged tossing the ball gently again.
Dean did just that reaching out with his glove to once again try catching it, this time he closed the mitt around the ball keeping it in place.
“Good job kiddo,” Daddy praised his own smile reaching from ear to ear.-
--spn--
-Sammy was so small, and he wiggled and squirmed this way and that in his crib as daddy held Dean to look down at his baby brother. Sammy burbled to himself tiny fingers reaching for his covered feet. “Night Sammy,” Dean said softly turning in his daddy’s arms as they moved away from the crib. Dean could feel his mummy’s hand moving lightly through his hair, as he road with daddy to his own room across the hall.
He giggled happily as daddy first tossed him up once before laying him down on his own bed. “Goodnight Dean,” daddy said kissing the top of his head.
“Night daddy!” Dean chirped enthusiastically as he looked to mummy who was covering him up with his blankets slowly tucking him in.
Mummy leaned over him, her long hair spilling around them so all Dean could see was mummy’s face smiling at him her eyes sparkling with love. “You’re safe Dean,” she whispered the words as she had done every night, “Angels are watching over you.”
“And Sammy too?” he asked seriously.
Mummy’s smile widened, “Yes,” she told him softly, “Sammy too, I love you Dean,” she leaned down and kissed him.
Dean’s little arms reached up around her neck pulling himself up slightly as he hugged her tightly, “Love you mummy,” he said into her shoulder little fingers locked together, before he let mummy lay him back down a wide yawn escaping him.-
--spn--
-“Daddy?!” Dean called out frightened as the fire roared down the hall. He rubbed at the sleep still in his eyes as suddenly his daddy appeared.
He handed Dean Sammy bundled tightly in his blankets, “Take your brother outside as fast as you can!” he shouted turning Dean towards the stairs as he did. “Don’t look back!” he called voice unlike anything Dean had heard before. “Now Dean, go!”
Dean felt tears of fear rise up in him but he did as his daddy said holding tightly to Sammy as he ran outside of their burning house.-
---SPN---
Dean woke with a start his right hand reaching out to catch the intrusion in a vice grip as he slowly opened his eyes. What he found wasn’t the fire in Lawrence but Sam’s concerned face, he was speaking but for the roar in his ears Dean couldn’t hear a thing. Slowly he released his grip on Sam’s forearm and pushed himself up, “What the hell were you doing Sammy?” he demanded voice gravelly from sleep.
“Checking to make sure you’d wake up,” Sam replied eyes still filled with concern.
“Most people do when they’re asleep,” Dean retorted dryly.
Sam rolled his eyes, “Not always if they have a concussion.”
“Guess that means I’m fine,” he pulled a hand down his face trying without success to shake the dreams he’d been pulled from. He couldn’t honestly remember the last time he’d dreamed about the night of the fire or of any of his life before it had happened.
“You alright man?” Sam hadn’t moved from his spot on the edge of Dean’s bed, “You look like you’ve seen a…” he trailed off before he said it.
“What would our equivalent to seeing a ghost be?” Dean asked in an attempt to change the subject, it didn’t work.
“Seriously are you alright?”
“Other than having been woken up from an awesome dream involving Kate Beckinsale, I’m fine.” Sam rolled his eyes at that but Dean’s bravado appeared to be enough, as Sam got up and moved back to his own bed.
“How’s your back?” he asked before laying back under his own blankets.
“Still there,” Dean returned dryly, “Now are you satisfied or are were going to be doing this again in another hour?”
Sam glanced at him in the dark room his expression hard to read, but something told Dean he wouldn’t have liked it if he could see it, “I’ll let you know,” there was a smile in his voice as Sam settled back rolling onto his side.
Dean rolled his eyes but didn’t make any verbal response as he shifted back on his own bed. He lay head down on the pillow but didn’t want to let his eyes fall closed, he’d faced many things that would have left most adults sleeping with the lights on for years and he’d always managed to find sleep after the hunts. But dreams of his own past-brought on by he didn’t even know what-had Dean wanting to remain awake for the rest of the night. He didn’t want to relive those memories, to see his mom smiling like that as she played with him, to relive the night she had died.
But as Dean lay there staring up at the motel’s water stained ceiling his eyes began to grow heavy again. And almost like their was a comforting hand on his forehead, a soft voice coaxing him, Dean felt like it was safe to give into sleep.
---SPN---
Dean woke the next morning with no clear recollection of what he’d dreamed of after falling back to sleep. Sam hadn’t woken him again it which meant he was finally satisfied that Dean’s ‘thick’ skull had saved him yet again. Pushing himself up onto one elbow Dean glanced towards Sam’s bed, finding it empty. That didn’t immediately worry him Sam still tended to be an early riser, going out in the morning to get them both a coffee.
Sitting up completely Dean scrubbed his hands through his short hair taking some time to fully awake. Running a hand over the back of his head Dean winced when he found the lump, thankfully his head didn’t pound. Dean got to his feet as the muffled sound of his cell phone filtered through the silence of the room. He mad his way into the bathroom quickly realizing that he hadn’t bothered to bring his dusty clothes out of the room.
Dean glanced at the caller ID briefly before dropping his jeans and flipping the phone opened, “Bobby,” he greeted.
“You and Sam finish the hunt?” Bobby asked gruffly.
“It was nothing,” Dean replied, “Could have done it in my sleep.” The door to the hotel room opened and Sam walked in carrying as expected the two cups of coffee.
“That cockiness is going to get you killed,” the older hunter chuckled.
“Care to place bets on whether it’s that, or my expiration date?” Dean asked winking at his brother as he raising the coffee cup in thanks. All he got from Sam was a dark glare, if there had been any question for Sam as to who he was talking too it was gone now. Bobby was perhaps the only one Dean could joke with in this manner and get a laugh in reply. Bobby had shown he held a lot of faith in their skills and what John had taught them, he was sure they’d figure something out before Dean’s year ran out.
“It’ll be at the hands of your little brother if you don’t stop talking like that,” Bobby laughed outright.
Taking a careful sip of his hot brew Dean moved over to the small table and took a seat across from Sam, “What can we do for you Bobby?”
“I’ve found a nest of them,” he said, all traces of humor gone from his voice, “I could use a hand exorcising them.”
“Where’re they located?” Dean asked, motioning for the pen and paper Sam had near his laptop.
“Northern Texas,” Bobby informed, “Been causing a fair bit of trouble around Amarillo, so my contact’s told me.”
“We’re not exactly close to Amarillo,” He pointed out eyes looking to Sam who was already typing on his laptop, no doubt searching for any information on what’s been going on in that town.
“Neither am I, but I don’t want to leave if for some rookie hunter, even a lot of experienced hunters might end up getting hurt or killed on this one.”
Dean pulled a hand down his face, “How many of them are there?”
“No really sure,” Bobby drawled as though he was just chatting about the weather, “My contact’s said their evidence of at least five, but there could be more.”
“It’ll take us two days of hard driving to get there,” Dean pointed out leaning back in his chair, it was going to take Bobby at least that long to make it to Texas if he wasn’t already on his way.
“I’m half way there now,” he confirmed Dean suspicions instantly
“Alright we’ll be heading in your direction as soon as we’ve had something to eat.”
“I’ll meet you in a motel just outside of Amarillo on the 287; we’ll go from there on how to handle this.”
“Right, call if anything changes,” Dean shut the phone and placed it on the table as he got up to find something to wear. Pulling a pair of jeans from his duffle Dean could feel Sam’s eyes on him as he slowly pulled them on. “What?” he asked voice a little sharper than he’d intended but he had a pretty good idea what was on his brother’s mind.
“Dose this smell like a trap to you?” Sam asked closing his laptop before slipping it back in the case.
That raised an eyebrow, Dean turned towards his brother, pulling down the black shirt he had just slipped on, “Not really, why?” he’d been expecting something about the demon Dean had made his pact with. It had only been a month since that day, and already Dean’s nerves were getting frayed, he didn’t like being the one that needed to be saved. That role suited Sam infinitely better than Dean, who had always been the protector, ready to leap in front of danger at a moment’s notice.
Sam shrugged, “I’m not really sure yet, just doesn’t feel right…”
“You getting a vibe from this?” Dean asked, rather pleased that Sam hadn’t had a vision yet, not since the Demon had been killed. Dean didn’t let himself think for a moment that this meant it was all over for Sam. The visions had always been related to the yellow eyed demon or one of the other children, but Sam had had these powers in him since he was a child.
“No…” Sam started slowly, moving about the small motel room as they gathered their things together, “At least nothing concrete yet, I’d like more time to research the area.”
Dean shrugged, slipping his cell into the pocket of his jeans, “Bobby’s not about to run into anything blind.” Sam nodded in silent agreement, but still looked troubled to Dean’s hazel eyes. Shouldering his duffle Dean took one last look around the room to make sure nothing had been forgotten before heading towards the door.
Sam lead the way out of the room towards the Impala, it wasn’t until then that Dean realized he didn’t have the keys, they were still in Sam’s possession. “Dude, keys” Dean held out his hand after tossing his bag in the back, what he received was a single key on a chain with the number 4 attached to it. Dean stared down at the room key with a glare, “That’s not what I meant.”
“Might as well bring them back to the office,” Sam smiled walking around the back of the car towards the driver’s side.
“I want the keys to my car, Sammy,” he warned voice low.
His brother looked him directly in the eyes, “It’s Sam,” he pointed out unperturbed, “And you look like you could use more sleep.”
“Says the guy who got how much sleep?” Dean had no idea how much Sam had managed, and he seriously doubted that Sam would offer up that little bit of information.
“I’m used to working on next to no sleep, it’s you who hates getting up before nine,” Sam pointed out with an amused smile plastered on his face. “Which is kind of odd considering how early dad always got us up…”
Dean shrugged, “You always got to sleep stretched out in the back seat.”
He walked quickly to the main office, dropped off the keys retrieved the bill and was back outside walking over to the purring Impala in under ten minutes, without a word Sam took them back out onto the main road. “Where do you want to eat?” Sam asked as they slowly came into the center of town.
“Doesn’t matter,” Dean commented slouching low in the seat so the back of his head was resting on the bench, “Someplace fast,” he decided after a moment.
Sam pulled them into the first drive through that he came across and put in an order for the both of them, not even having to ask Dean to know what he’d want off the menu. Browsing through the box of old cassettes, Dean pulled out one he felt like listening to and pushed it in seconds later Black Sabbath filled the silence between them. Sam parked the car at the far edge of the parking lot so he could quickly eat his breakfast before getting back on the road.
Before long Dean found himself dozing in the passenger’s seat, the rhythm of music and the movement of the car creating a comforting lull that pulled at him to just relax and close his eyes. For a while he fought it, not wanting to give Sam satisfaction over the fact that he was still tired, but he could only stare out the window for so long before the rarely change farm land became to boring to watch any longer.
It felt to Dean like he was flipping through the memories of his childhood like the pages of a very well worn book, he didn’t know why, he seemed so focused on his past. But he didn’t appear to have much choice in the matter; each time his eyes closed he was faced with another scene from his past. First his nights spent guarding Sammy from whatever had taken their mom; he was too young to understand what had happened, even if their father had known at that time. But it didn’t matter each and every night Dean would find his way into Sammy’s crib hugging the small bundle close as he had the night John had placed Sam in his care.
Dean opened his eyes blinking a couple of times and found himself absently wondering how long that went on for. It couldn’t have been for the entire time Sam had been in a crib, somehow Dean just couldn’t see John putting up with that. Glancing at his little brother through the corner of one eye Dean saw that Sam’s attention remained on the road, at least at that moment not shifting to Dean.
Letting his eyes fall closed for the second time, Dean found himself met with images of his youth, the training John had introduced to him, as he matured able now to help his father with the hunts. It had been both exciting and terrifying the first time John had taken him out to hunt, oddly enough he was more terrified of leaving little Sammy asleep in the Impala than of facing whatever evil had drawn them out. He couldn’t begin to count the number of hunts that had been like it, or how many times he or John had been hurt because of them.
What did stick out clearly in his mind was the first time Sam had been hurt, and too this day Dean felt like it was his fault. That he hadn’t made it to his brother in time; if he’d just been a little faster he could have pushed Sammy down and taken the brunt of the attack. Eyes open or not that particular memory wasn’t about to leave Dean alone.
--spn--
-Dean look up through his opened window as John navigated the streets of the small city they’d been calling home for the past month. They’d been on a hunt the entire time, but hunting werewolves was not as straight forward as dispelling a spirit. Werewolves only changed during the full moon, so they had settled in and waited. While John worked on researching victims for some commonality that could help them narrow down who the werewolf was, or at least who would be attacked next. Dean and Sammy attended a local school; Dean found the excitement of finally being able to hunt a werewolf almost too much to keep focused on his school work.
Sammy didn’t seem to have that trouble even considering this was going to be his first hunt, not just researching with his brother and father but actually out there with a gun ready to shoot. Dean knew it had to happen sometime; Sammy was two years older than Dean had been when he’d started hunting. But it just didn’t feel right to him, he wanted to keep his little brother safe, had argued with his dad as much as he dared. John seemed sure that this was a safe hunt for Sam to start on, it was true that Sammy knew how to handle a gun, was more than capable of killing a werewolf.
Still Dean knew first hand that being able to handle a gun, didn’t guarantee that everything would go as planned, that no one would get hurt. Dean couldn’t bear the thought of Sammy being hurt at all, John didn’t want it any more than Dean but he was still insisting that now was the time Sammy start.
Dean was snapped back to reality when their dad pulled the Impala to a stop in a rather seedy looking part of town. The attacks had happened almost exclusively here, they hadn’t been able to pinpoint if that was because the werewolf lived here or his victims simply passed through. There hadn’t been enough commonality with the victims to tell why they were all killed other than just bad luck. Dean glanced back over the seat to Sammy who was sitting on the edge of the back bench looking alert and almost shaky. He was excited to be out for the first time and he didn’t particularly want to hear anything from Dean that implied even remotely that he shouldn’t.
He was a lot like their dad, Dean was slowly noticing, he had a strong sense of mind, and an opinion on everything. Once he’d made a decision, a very well informed decision-perhaps that was where their paths deviated at least some of the time-Sammy stuck to his guns. He didn’t want to be considered a child anymore, didn’t even want to be called Sammy, not like that was going to stop Dean, if anything it only encouraged him to use the name more.
“You boys ready?” John asked looking from one to the other quickly.
“Yes sir,” they answered in unison.
“Good,” John was the first one to exit the Impala, “Stick to the plan.”
Another quick round of ‘Yes sir’ and they were out of the car standing at the trunk with their father as he opened the hidden compartment handing them each a 9mil handgun, loaded with handmade silver bullets. Checking the gun over carefully as he’d been taught Dean kept half an eye of Sammy making sure everything was alright with him. He appeared to be doing his best to no look anxious as he ejected the magazine before quickly snapping it back in.
Dean accepted a second clip slipping it into his back pocket before his eyes turned skyward taking in the fast setting sun. It wouldn’t be long before the light of the moon filled the sky, street lights had already come on, but it was clear to Dean why this section of the city was the werewolf’s hunting grounds. Street lights or no, deep shadows stretched across the ground bathing much of the large alley in darkness. The only reason it saw any use, was that it was a straight shot from downtown’s bars to an inexpensive housing complex.
That was something that they had been able to establish. Most of the attacks had happened not long after last call. The police didn’t have a clue what to look for, their training didn’t even begin to cover the supernatural, so their best bet had been a pack of rabid dogs which they’d never been able to find. It was hard to reconcile the fact that some of the damage done to the bodies didn’t fit with a dog attack, unable to expand the scope of their thinking, the police had been left baffled.
John shut the trunk to the Impala “Keep a sharp watch,” he warned one final time before striding down the alley towards its far end. Dean took up his position opposite Sammy at their end of the alley and knelt down to wait.
It wasn’t long before Dean heard a growl low and long in the distance, at first he could have mistaken it for a dog, but he knew better. Sammy was looking around eyes wide, gun held firmly in his hand. Dean kept his eyes opened and hands steady as he listened and waited. Adrenalin coursed through his body and he had to fight to keep himself from shaking as remaining still became more difficult. The growl came again reverberating in the alley; Dean heard the scraping of claws above.
He drew a breath to further steady his hands, when the howl broke the pseudo silence hovering over the alley. Dean knew his father must have been close but in the darkness Dean couldn’t make out any movement in the shadows. “Dean…” Sammy’s voice sounded unsure, but whatever he was about to say died on his lips as the werewolf appeared.
Far more human in appearance then Hollywood ever consider the werewolf leapt from the roof the power of its jump sending it clear across the alley, to the far wall. Dean brought his gun up immediately firing at the creature, silver bullets aimed for the heart. With agility beyond that of any human the werewolf surged towards them foam dripping from the shockingly female mouth. Dean felt his attention tear in two as he took in the approaching danger and his need to watch out for Sammy.
John appeared out of the shadows not nearly so easy a target as his much smaller boys, he fired from behind catching the creature in the shoulder. An inhuman cry of pain escaped it, as Dean fired again, his aim true. The werewolf dropped body skidding across the pavement before coming to a stop; Dean looked away before it returned to its original form. His attention went instead to Sammy, he couldn’t be sure if Sam had managed to fire off a single bullet.
When he looked over he found his brother’s attention was turned up towards the roof of the building that the werewolf had appeared from. His gun was pointed down, finger lying next to the trigger, “Sammy,” Dean called wanting to be sure he was alright.
“Did you hear that?” Sam asked not looking over.
With no idea what his brother was referring too, Dean got to his feet, and took a step towards his brother. “Dean!” he heard his father shout his name in warning just as he saw the second werewolf jump from the edge of the roof right above Sammy’s head.
Dean raced to push his brother out of the way, but new before he’d taken the first step that he wasn’t going to make it in time, “Sammy!” he cried, as the creature landed, his brother fell beneath the weight but not before he’d managed to squeeze off a round. Dean’s heart swelled with pride, even as his stomach clenched in abject fear.
Firing his own gun without hesitation, Dean wanted to be sure the werewolf was dead long before it could get its teeth anywhere near Sammy’s flesh. “Sammy! Dean!” John called racing towards them his feet pounding in time with Dean’s own racing heart. Neither of them could get their fast enough to throw the creature off Sammy’s small body.
“Dean!”-
--spn--
“Dean!” Sam’s voice snapped Dean’s eyes opened, and before he knew what was happening he was lunging forward in the Impala’s front seat, heart pounding blood roaring in his ears.
“Fuck!” he cursed hazel eyes flickering madly around as he tried to gather his bearings. Sam had pulled the Impala into a convenience store parking lot; the engine had been shut off. The last thing Dean remembered was Black Sabbath playing.
“You alright?” Sam asked voice more than a little concerned as he looked at Dean, a hand still resting on Dean’s chest where he had planted it to keep Dean from smashing his face into the dashboard.
Dean pushed his brother’s hand aside not wanting him to feel just how fast his heart was racing, though he doubted Sam had missed it. Silently he cursed and blinked several times to rid his mind of the memories so vivid it was like they were happening again. -What the hell’s going on?- Dean wondered bitterly, Sammy had survived that hunt, hadn’t even been hurt all that bad, but it had scared Dean, far more deeply that he really wanted to consider.
“Dean,” Sam tried again, “Dude talk to me.”
Glancing over to his brother Dean forced a smile, “Just a dream,” he said hoping he was working more to convince Sam rather than himself.
Sam looked him square in the eyes, those deep brown eyes were piercing Dean felt sure Sam would see the lie in his words. “Must have been one hell of a dream,” he commented finally moving to get out of the car.
Dean was both surprised and relieved that Sam was willing to let the matter drop that easily. Though he realized it shouldn’t have been that shocking considering the number of times Sam had been plagued with dreams no doubt worse. Pushing open his own door, Dean didn’t think Sam would actually drop the matter that easily, but any amount of time would be welcomed. To both distance himself from the moment and put together a better answer to any of Sam’s questions.
They walked into the convenience store one after the other, and once inside Dean smacked the back of his hand against Sam’s shoulder, “Let me have the keys.” He held out his hand, and was gratified when Sam let them finally fall into his hand. Dean tried not to slip them away too quickly, rolling his shoulders as he looked about the store, “How long was I asleep?”
Sam shrugged looking up from the refrigerator full of drinks, “I’m not sure, a couple of hours. Told you, you needed more sleep,” he said pulling a bottle of soda out of the frig.
“Thank you doctor Winchester,” Dean replied dryly, accepting the bottle Sam handed to him before moving further into the store in search of something to eat.
Dean wasn’t about to let himself be talked into sleep again, at least not for a while. The dreams were far to vivid, the emotions too real it was like he was reliving these moments, moments that he shouldn’t have been able to remember that clearly. Even now fully awake, hazel eyes seeing the store around him, hearing Sam’s voice speaking to him, he felt different. Though he couldn’t put his finger on why, something in his brain itched, it was the only way he could think to describe it not that he was about to voice any of this to Sam.
They selected a few things to eat and headed back out to the Impala. Dean savored the first few seconds behind the wheel, letting his palms glide over the wheel. “Should I leave you two alone?” Sam laughed looking through his open door without climbing in.
“I’ve managed this long,” Dean returned quickly, starting the engine. Sam could only shake his head at that as he climbed in.
Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed
Lift me Up [chapter 2]
Title: Lift me Up
Show: Supernatural
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, AU
Characters: Dean, Sam and Bobby
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters from Supernatural
Summary: The boys have to face Dean's deal, one year left to live and a lot of demons to kill. Enter a creature until now only rumor, which will change Dean's life forever. -Originally written at a friend's prompt, before season 3 started-
Dean looked up at the house looming in the moonless night and attempted without success to see it through the eyes of the local kids. The ones that had started the challenges that lead to several brutal deaths, why they felt the need to enter into places already shadowed by death he’d never understand. But since Dean had been entering these places from such a young age, he no longer saw them as a threat, at least not to himself. He was careful, had to be when dealing with the insubstantial, but Dean had been trained by the best, and caught off guard or not he and Sam always found a way to deal.
Dean blinked himself back to reality with a subtle shake of his head, still able to clearly see his father’s face, to know that he’d made John proud. That more than a little good had come out of last month’s events.
This however was neither the time nor place to be considering those ‘events’ that had left him with a recently acquired expiration date. Sam absolutely seethed whenever he referred to it like that, but Sam also knew it was his brother’s way. Dean had never stared death in the face quite like this before; the fact that he had on several other occasions, remained endlessly amusing to him. Dean all but threw aside the five stages of death, never liking to stick to the rules there was never enough time for that.
“Let’s go,” he said softly to Sam, needing to keep his focus tight. He took a firmer grip on his shotgun and stepped away from the Impala.
“Janice Crown was the first to die,” Sam informed brown eyes flickering from Dean’s face back to the house as they slowly made their way towards it. “From apparently ‘natural’ causes, since her husband was able to cremate her.”
Dean nodded, they’d known they were dealing with spirits right off the bat, a family slaughtered in their farm house nearly fifty years ago, had left the house abandoned ever since. Except for the kids who felt they need to tempt faith, “It’s never just a salt and burn…” Dean sighed bitterly.
“At least the boy wasn’t seriously hurt,” Sam clicked on his flashlight as they stepped up onto the large veranda.
“What the hell was he doing here in the first place?” it hadn’t been that long since a group of teenagers had been massacred in the old Crown home.
Sam pushed open the door loose on its hinges his flashlight illuminating the large front room, “I spoke with one of the officers,” Sam returned softly and they entered the house guns raised before them. “Apparently his sister was one of the kids that died he was looking for something that belonged to her, a locket or something.”
“Well maybe we can find it while we’re here…” they’d taken a different approach to this haunting. It had been a source of tension between the two of them Dean understood the vow Sam had made to him, but he wasn’t going to let the deal he’d made to bring Sam back from the dead stop him from hunting. They’d come to an agreement after some research had brought them to this house where the family had been buried; they’d salted and burned them all. It wasn’t until later that they realized Janice hadn’t been among them.
“It’s going to be hard enough to find what’s left of Janice, if it’s even here,” Sam commented darkly.
Dean’s lips quirked at that, “Sam have I told you, you’re bring pessimism to a whole new level?” his brother rolled his eyes at that but they continued moving forward. “Somehow I don’t think Janice will let us remove her from this house without a fight.”
The house was utterly silent, oppressive as Dean edged towards the staircase at the center of the home. It wasn’t hard to tell when Janice caught on to their intentions. Dean felt the temperature around them drop, hazel and brown eyes searched the shadows around them, “Take the second floor Sam, I’ll check down here.”
Sam nodded moving towards the stairs his long legs carrying him up and out of sight in seconds. Dean pressed on into rooms layered in dust and debris the beam of his flashlight searching for anything that might possibly have been remains of Janice. Through Sam’s research Dean had an idea of what to look for, most likely hair made into some memorial, jewelry was the most common. Sweeping the walls quickly Dean took note of the broken glass of the old picture frames quickly searching them before continuing on.
He could hear the floor boards creek above his head as Sam did the same. None of the kids who’d ever entered the house, had made it far, either the stories they told one another had them running inside of five minutes, or they lost their lives. So Dean found that the majority of the house was untouched by time, thick cobwebs clung to the furniture and each footstep he took sent up a tiny puff of dust. The wooden floor groaned beneath him, and Dean suddenly felt very unsure of his standing.
The temperature bottomed out around him, the tiny hairs on the back of his neck rising in warning, he was being watched. Turning as quickly as he dared Dean found himself face to face with Janice, sunken eyes staring right through him. Raising his shotgun Dean fired off a round of rock salt while backing up. His aim was true the salt tore through Janice her apparition loosing definition immediately. Dean didn’t see anything after that, with a threatening crack the floor gave way beneath him.
The fall was short with an abrupt and painful landing, his head bounced off the rubble below sending sparks flaring across his vision. For a second Dean felt sure he was going to black out, but he fought to keep awake, hand still tightly gripping his shotgun. Vaguely Dean was aware of shouts above him, though they sounded so far away. He blinked eyes watering against the dust and sharp pain in the back of his head. Dean wanted to be able to take a moment to gather himself, but didn’t know if he even had the time.
---SPN---
The disruption had happened so suddenly a breech forming in the space above, and in he came crashing to the floor. Surprised It watched from the shadows curious wanting to get a better look. As the dust began to settle It ventured closer unable to control the need to get a better look. It liked the look of this one; even now he struggled to get up, eyes blinking rapidly though It was pretty sure he wasn’t seeing much. Groans escaped him and words, short words, words It wanted to learn the meaning of. But there was only one way for that, It hadn’t felt compelled in a long time.
---SPN---
“Fuck…” Dean groaned finally managing to get a hand across his eyes scrubbing the liquid from them trying to bring himself around.
“Dean!” he heard his name shouted above, but couldn’t seem to coordinate himself so he could look up.
“Yeah Sammy…” he pushed past his lips hand moving from his eyes to the back of his head, he could feel his heart pounding there, and had to work doubly hard to suppress a groan.
“I’m coming down for you!” it sounded like Sam had shouted it.
Flinching Dean finally managed to look up through the floorboards, “Please, take your time,” he spoke to the empty space where Sam had been kneeling. Glancing around his surroundings with eyes finally willing to see clearly, Dean felt around for his flashlight, having lost it in the fall. His fingers gripped it quickly and it turned it back on, the cellar was nearly empty around him the air thick with dust.
At the far end of the open low ceiling room was a door he expected Sam to come bursting through at any moment. Sure enough a second or two later the door was nearly yanked off its hinges as Sam forced his way into the room. He had to duck his head in order to fit, Sam’s hand shot to his eyes to shield them from Dean’s harsh light, “Are you alright?!” he demanded coming immediately to where Dean sat amongst the broken floorboards.
“Did you find it?” Dean deflected the question with one of his own.
“Yeah,” Sam humored him, voice lowering as his own flashlight began a slow sweep over Dean’s body. “Found it right before I heard you fall through the floor, can you stand?”
“Of course,” he bushed Sam’s hand aside as he got to his feet, “Makes you wonder why she came to see me if you were the threat…” Dean muttered rubbing at the back of his head, the pain had dissipated to a dull throb but it was still gnawing.
“How’s your head?” Sam moved around behind him his hands reaching for Dean.
Twisting away Dean shot his brother a look, “I’m fine,” he said defensively moving towards the door.
“Dean you fell through the floor.”
“Thanks for stating the obvious,” Dean didn’t allow himself to be pulled to a halt but climbed the stairs quickly and made for the back door of the kitchen wanting to get out and into the fresh air as fast as he could.
Sam was right behind him, and once out into the cool night air Dean found himself pulled to a halt, “Will you just hold up for one minute?” Sam demanded, eyes narrowed stubbornly.
Unable to suppress the need to sigh Dean turned to face Sam, “I just want to go back to the motel and shower,” he could still taste the dust and had to fight the need to cough.
“And I’d like to make sure you don’t have a concussion,” Sam retorted quickly, “Keys,” he all but demanded holding out his hand. Dean’s own hazel eyes narrowed at that unwilling to just hand over the keys to the Impala, and even less likely to do it with Sam questioning him. “You’ve handed them over before,” Sam pointed out voice the epitome of calm.
“I said I was fine,” Dean swiped a hand down his face feeling the dust cling to his skin.
“I’ve driven when you were fine before,” was Sam’s counter.
Striding towards the car Dean reached for the keys in his jean pocket intent on opening the truck to stow the guns away. His brother was right on top of him the minute they left his pocket Sam made a grab and much to Dean’s disgust he wasn’t able to pull back in time. “Sam,” he barked the name as Sam opened the trunk and quickly made the Keys disappear.
“What?” his brother asked all too innocently, as he put his own shotgun into the compartment.
Dean had to resist the urge to throw the weapon at his little brother’s smug face, in the end he just put the gun down and closed the trunk too tired to argue. Sam was already making his way towards the driver’s side door, Dean took a moment to try and brush the worst of the dust off himself before climbing in. The drive back to their motel room was quiet, no music playing to break silence between them.
“You’re head’s really bothering you,” Sam said more as a statement of fact than a question, as he turned the Impala into the motel parking lot.
“Huh?” Dean blinked only to find himself looking at his own hand, fingers massaging the skin above his eyes. He dropped his hand immediately, and shrugged, he hadn’t realized the ache had shifted to behind his eyes.
Sam parked the car and turned to look across the seat, “Dean, you might have a concussion.”
Rolling his eyes Dean got out of the car, and walked towards the hotel room, pulling the key from his coat pocket. Sam was right behind him, brown eyes boring into the back of his head, “Sam I know you’re smart enough to stop stating the obvious.”
“And I would have thought you were smart enough to not ignore a head injury.”
They walked into the small room, Dean making a beeline for the bathroom, but Sam caught his arm his grip firm, “Just let me take a look.”
Dean shrugged out of his leather jacket and dropped down into a chair with a sigh, Sam wasn’t going to relax until he’d been satisfied. And Dean knew he’d have been just as pushy if roles were reversed, but that wasn’t really enough for him to just give in whenever Sam thought it was necessary. His brother moved into the bathroom and soaked a cloth under a rush of water, within seconds he was walking back towards Dean.
Switching on a lamp behind Dean, Sam began to brush the cloth through the hair on the back of Dean’s head. He winced slightly when Sam hit the most tender spot, but he didn’t pull away or say a word. “You’ve got quite a lump here,” Sam spoke softly, his long fingers probing around the wound.
“Is that all?” Dean breathed moving away from Sam’s fingers and coming to his feet.
“I’ll leave you some hot water,” he tossed over his shoulder as he walked into the bathroom.
Dean stripped off his dusty clothes pilling them on the floor near the sink, before his eyes met his reflection in the mirror. There was dirt smeared across his face and neck, and slowly forming bruises on his sides and back. Taking a moment to look at them Dean didn’t remember noticing any pain from his fall, besides his head. Even now as he moved he didn’t feel the twinges of pain that should have accompanied those bruises. Shrugging is aside Dean climbed into the shower, sure he’d be feeling it in the morning.
---SPN---
-The sunlight was bright and warm on his face as Dean’s bare feet carried him across the short grass of the backyard. He couldn’t contain a giggle from escaping him as his bright hazel eyes search for a place he could hide. Getting down on hands and knees Dean pushed his way under one of the bushes in the yard, peeking through the thick leaves to see if mommy was coming for him yet. A small hand went to his mouth to keep another giggle from escaping; she always had such a hard time finding him.
“Fifty!” mummy announced as she turned away from the house one hand placed above her eyes as she looked around the yard. Dean was proud to say he could count up to twenty, mummy was teaching him something new each day.
Dean ducked down lower in his hiding place, an excited tremor running through him as mummy walked around the yard, “Where’s my Dean?” she called softly her voice nearly eliciting another laugh from his small body.
“Oh Dean?” her voice sing-songed. Dean watched as she crouched down not far from where he hid, green eyes searching the shadows.
He couldn’t contain it any longer, a giggle escaped him and mummy looked towards him, “I didn’t know my bushes could giggle,” she laughed coming towards Dean’s hiding place, “Daddy will never believe me.”
Dean suddenly had an idea, pulling his legs under him, he waited until mummy’s hands were almost touching the bush, and then he leapt forward, “Supwise!!” he shouted arms reaching above his head.
Mummy gasped in surprise a hand going to her heart, “Dean!” she laughed taking him into her arms and hugging him tight.-
--spn--
-Dean worked the little glove over his hand with daddy’s help, smiling ear to ear as he closed his hand and watched the mitt do the same. Daddy had said he was going to teach Dean a new game; he was going to teach him to play catch. Dean bounced on his toes in excitement, wide eyes watching Daddy as he slipped his much larger hand into a mitt like Dean’s and picked up the ball he’d brought out with them.
“You ready Ace?” Daddy asked tossing the ball up and down in his hand. Dean nodded enthusiastically, “Alright,” Daddy smiled, “We’ll start out slow, just try and catch the ball with your mitt.”
Moving back a couple of steps Daddy gently tossed the ball towards Dean, he reached out with the mitt, and felt the ball connect, but it bounced off and rolled a few feet away. Undeterred Dean ran to get the ball and lobbed it back towards Daddy; he caught it, mitt closing around it, “You want to try again Ace?” he asked.
“Yeah!” Dean cheered jumping up and down.
“Okay, keep your eye on the ball,” he encouraged tossing the ball gently again.
Dean did just that reaching out with his glove to once again try catching it, this time he closed the mitt around the ball keeping it in place.
“Good job kiddo,” Daddy praised his own smile reaching from ear to ear.-
--spn--
-Sammy was so small, and he wiggled and squirmed this way and that in his crib as daddy held Dean to look down at his baby brother. Sammy burbled to himself tiny fingers reaching for his covered feet. “Night Sammy,” Dean said softly turning in his daddy’s arms as they moved away from the crib. Dean could feel his mummy’s hand moving lightly through his hair, as he road with daddy to his own room across the hall.
He giggled happily as daddy first tossed him up once before laying him down on his own bed. “Goodnight Dean,” daddy said kissing the top of his head.
“Night daddy!” Dean chirped enthusiastically as he looked to mummy who was covering him up with his blankets slowly tucking him in.
Mummy leaned over him, her long hair spilling around them so all Dean could see was mummy’s face smiling at him her eyes sparkling with love. “You’re safe Dean,” she whispered the words as she had done every night, “Angels are watching over you.”
“And Sammy too?” he asked seriously.
Mummy’s smile widened, “Yes,” she told him softly, “Sammy too, I love you Dean,” she leaned down and kissed him.
Dean’s little arms reached up around her neck pulling himself up slightly as he hugged her tightly, “Love you mummy,” he said into her shoulder little fingers locked together, before he let mummy lay him back down a wide yawn escaping him.-
--spn--
-“Daddy?!” Dean called out frightened as the fire roared down the hall. He rubbed at the sleep still in his eyes as suddenly his daddy appeared.
He handed Dean Sammy bundled tightly in his blankets, “Take your brother outside as fast as you can!” he shouted turning Dean towards the stairs as he did. “Don’t look back!” he called voice unlike anything Dean had heard before. “Now Dean, go!”
Dean felt tears of fear rise up in him but he did as his daddy said holding tightly to Sammy as he ran outside of their burning house.-
---SPN---
Dean woke with a start his right hand reaching out to catch the intrusion in a vice grip as he slowly opened his eyes. What he found wasn’t the fire in Lawrence but Sam’s concerned face, he was speaking but for the roar in his ears Dean couldn’t hear a thing. Slowly he released his grip on Sam’s forearm and pushed himself up, “What the hell were you doing Sammy?” he demanded voice gravelly from sleep.
“Checking to make sure you’d wake up,” Sam replied eyes still filled with concern.
“Most people do when they’re asleep,” Dean retorted dryly.
Sam rolled his eyes, “Not always if they have a concussion.”
“Guess that means I’m fine,” he pulled a hand down his face trying without success to shake the dreams he’d been pulled from. He couldn’t honestly remember the last time he’d dreamed about the night of the fire or of any of his life before it had happened.
“You alright man?” Sam hadn’t moved from his spot on the edge of Dean’s bed, “You look like you’ve seen a…” he trailed off before he said it.
“What would our equivalent to seeing a ghost be?” Dean asked in an attempt to change the subject, it didn’t work.
“Seriously are you alright?”
“Other than having been woken up from an awesome dream involving Kate Beckinsale, I’m fine.” Sam rolled his eyes at that but Dean’s bravado appeared to be enough, as Sam got up and moved back to his own bed.
“How’s your back?” he asked before laying back under his own blankets.
“Still there,” Dean returned dryly, “Now are you satisfied or are were going to be doing this again in another hour?”
Sam glanced at him in the dark room his expression hard to read, but something told Dean he wouldn’t have liked it if he could see it, “I’ll let you know,” there was a smile in his voice as Sam settled back rolling onto his side.
Dean rolled his eyes but didn’t make any verbal response as he shifted back on his own bed. He lay head down on the pillow but didn’t want to let his eyes fall closed, he’d faced many things that would have left most adults sleeping with the lights on for years and he’d always managed to find sleep after the hunts. But dreams of his own past-brought on by he didn’t even know what-had Dean wanting to remain awake for the rest of the night. He didn’t want to relive those memories, to see his mom smiling like that as she played with him, to relive the night she had died.
But as Dean lay there staring up at the motel’s water stained ceiling his eyes began to grow heavy again. And almost like their was a comforting hand on his forehead, a soft voice coaxing him, Dean felt like it was safe to give into sleep.
---SPN---
Dean woke the next morning with no clear recollection of what he’d dreamed of after falling back to sleep. Sam hadn’t woken him again it which meant he was finally satisfied that Dean’s ‘thick’ skull had saved him yet again. Pushing himself up onto one elbow Dean glanced towards Sam’s bed, finding it empty. That didn’t immediately worry him Sam still tended to be an early riser, going out in the morning to get them both a coffee.
Sitting up completely Dean scrubbed his hands through his short hair taking some time to fully awake. Running a hand over the back of his head Dean winced when he found the lump, thankfully his head didn’t pound. Dean got to his feet as the muffled sound of his cell phone filtered through the silence of the room. He mad his way into the bathroom quickly realizing that he hadn’t bothered to bring his dusty clothes out of the room.
Dean glanced at the caller ID briefly before dropping his jeans and flipping the phone opened, “Bobby,” he greeted.
“You and Sam finish the hunt?” Bobby asked gruffly.
“It was nothing,” Dean replied, “Could have done it in my sleep.” The door to the hotel room opened and Sam walked in carrying as expected the two cups of coffee.
“That cockiness is going to get you killed,” the older hunter chuckled.
“Care to place bets on whether it’s that, or my expiration date?” Dean asked winking at his brother as he raising the coffee cup in thanks. All he got from Sam was a dark glare, if there had been any question for Sam as to who he was talking too it was gone now. Bobby was perhaps the only one Dean could joke with in this manner and get a laugh in reply. Bobby had shown he held a lot of faith in their skills and what John had taught them, he was sure they’d figure something out before Dean’s year ran out.
“It’ll be at the hands of your little brother if you don’t stop talking like that,” Bobby laughed outright.
Taking a careful sip of his hot brew Dean moved over to the small table and took a seat across from Sam, “What can we do for you Bobby?”
“I’ve found a nest of them,” he said, all traces of humor gone from his voice, “I could use a hand exorcising them.”
“Where’re they located?” Dean asked, motioning for the pen and paper Sam had near his laptop.
“Northern Texas,” Bobby informed, “Been causing a fair bit of trouble around Amarillo, so my contact’s told me.”
“We’re not exactly close to Amarillo,” He pointed out eyes looking to Sam who was already typing on his laptop, no doubt searching for any information on what’s been going on in that town.
“Neither am I, but I don’t want to leave if for some rookie hunter, even a lot of experienced hunters might end up getting hurt or killed on this one.”
Dean pulled a hand down his face, “How many of them are there?”
“No really sure,” Bobby drawled as though he was just chatting about the weather, “My contact’s said their evidence of at least five, but there could be more.”
“It’ll take us two days of hard driving to get there,” Dean pointed out leaning back in his chair, it was going to take Bobby at least that long to make it to Texas if he wasn’t already on his way.
“I’m half way there now,” he confirmed Dean suspicions instantly
“Alright we’ll be heading in your direction as soon as we’ve had something to eat.”
“I’ll meet you in a motel just outside of Amarillo on the 287; we’ll go from there on how to handle this.”
“Right, call if anything changes,” Dean shut the phone and placed it on the table as he got up to find something to wear. Pulling a pair of jeans from his duffle Dean could feel Sam’s eyes on him as he slowly pulled them on. “What?” he asked voice a little sharper than he’d intended but he had a pretty good idea what was on his brother’s mind.
“Dose this smell like a trap to you?” Sam asked closing his laptop before slipping it back in the case.
That raised an eyebrow, Dean turned towards his brother, pulling down the black shirt he had just slipped on, “Not really, why?” he’d been expecting something about the demon Dean had made his pact with. It had only been a month since that day, and already Dean’s nerves were getting frayed, he didn’t like being the one that needed to be saved. That role suited Sam infinitely better than Dean, who had always been the protector, ready to leap in front of danger at a moment’s notice.
Sam shrugged, “I’m not really sure yet, just doesn’t feel right…”
“You getting a vibe from this?” Dean asked, rather pleased that Sam hadn’t had a vision yet, not since the Demon had been killed. Dean didn’t let himself think for a moment that this meant it was all over for Sam. The visions had always been related to the yellow eyed demon or one of the other children, but Sam had had these powers in him since he was a child.
“No…” Sam started slowly, moving about the small motel room as they gathered their things together, “At least nothing concrete yet, I’d like more time to research the area.”
Dean shrugged, slipping his cell into the pocket of his jeans, “Bobby’s not about to run into anything blind.” Sam nodded in silent agreement, but still looked troubled to Dean’s hazel eyes. Shouldering his duffle Dean took one last look around the room to make sure nothing had been forgotten before heading towards the door.
Sam lead the way out of the room towards the Impala, it wasn’t until then that Dean realized he didn’t have the keys, they were still in Sam’s possession. “Dude, keys” Dean held out his hand after tossing his bag in the back, what he received was a single key on a chain with the number 4 attached to it. Dean stared down at the room key with a glare, “That’s not what I meant.”
“Might as well bring them back to the office,” Sam smiled walking around the back of the car towards the driver’s side.
“I want the keys to my car, Sammy,” he warned voice low.
His brother looked him directly in the eyes, “It’s Sam,” he pointed out unperturbed, “And you look like you could use more sleep.”
“Says the guy who got how much sleep?” Dean had no idea how much Sam had managed, and he seriously doubted that Sam would offer up that little bit of information.
“I’m used to working on next to no sleep, it’s you who hates getting up before nine,” Sam pointed out with an amused smile plastered on his face. “Which is kind of odd considering how early dad always got us up…”
Dean shrugged, “You always got to sleep stretched out in the back seat.”
He walked quickly to the main office, dropped off the keys retrieved the bill and was back outside walking over to the purring Impala in under ten minutes, without a word Sam took them back out onto the main road. “Where do you want to eat?” Sam asked as they slowly came into the center of town.
“Doesn’t matter,” Dean commented slouching low in the seat so the back of his head was resting on the bench, “Someplace fast,” he decided after a moment.
Sam pulled them into the first drive through that he came across and put in an order for the both of them, not even having to ask Dean to know what he’d want off the menu. Browsing through the box of old cassettes, Dean pulled out one he felt like listening to and pushed it in seconds later Black Sabbath filled the silence between them. Sam parked the car at the far edge of the parking lot so he could quickly eat his breakfast before getting back on the road.
Before long Dean found himself dozing in the passenger’s seat, the rhythm of music and the movement of the car creating a comforting lull that pulled at him to just relax and close his eyes. For a while he fought it, not wanting to give Sam satisfaction over the fact that he was still tired, but he could only stare out the window for so long before the rarely change farm land became to boring to watch any longer.
It felt to Dean like he was flipping through the memories of his childhood like the pages of a very well worn book, he didn’t know why, he seemed so focused on his past. But he didn’t appear to have much choice in the matter; each time his eyes closed he was faced with another scene from his past. First his nights spent guarding Sammy from whatever had taken their mom; he was too young to understand what had happened, even if their father had known at that time. But it didn’t matter each and every night Dean would find his way into Sammy’s crib hugging the small bundle close as he had the night John had placed Sam in his care.
Dean opened his eyes blinking a couple of times and found himself absently wondering how long that went on for. It couldn’t have been for the entire time Sam had been in a crib, somehow Dean just couldn’t see John putting up with that. Glancing at his little brother through the corner of one eye Dean saw that Sam’s attention remained on the road, at least at that moment not shifting to Dean.
Letting his eyes fall closed for the second time, Dean found himself met with images of his youth, the training John had introduced to him, as he matured able now to help his father with the hunts. It had been both exciting and terrifying the first time John had taken him out to hunt, oddly enough he was more terrified of leaving little Sammy asleep in the Impala than of facing whatever evil had drawn them out. He couldn’t begin to count the number of hunts that had been like it, or how many times he or John had been hurt because of them.
What did stick out clearly in his mind was the first time Sam had been hurt, and too this day Dean felt like it was his fault. That he hadn’t made it to his brother in time; if he’d just been a little faster he could have pushed Sammy down and taken the brunt of the attack. Eyes open or not that particular memory wasn’t about to leave Dean alone.
--spn--
-Dean look up through his opened window as John navigated the streets of the small city they’d been calling home for the past month. They’d been on a hunt the entire time, but hunting werewolves was not as straight forward as dispelling a spirit. Werewolves only changed during the full moon, so they had settled in and waited. While John worked on researching victims for some commonality that could help them narrow down who the werewolf was, or at least who would be attacked next. Dean and Sammy attended a local school; Dean found the excitement of finally being able to hunt a werewolf almost too much to keep focused on his school work.
Sammy didn’t seem to have that trouble even considering this was going to be his first hunt, not just researching with his brother and father but actually out there with a gun ready to shoot. Dean knew it had to happen sometime; Sammy was two years older than Dean had been when he’d started hunting. But it just didn’t feel right to him, he wanted to keep his little brother safe, had argued with his dad as much as he dared. John seemed sure that this was a safe hunt for Sam to start on, it was true that Sammy knew how to handle a gun, was more than capable of killing a werewolf.
Still Dean knew first hand that being able to handle a gun, didn’t guarantee that everything would go as planned, that no one would get hurt. Dean couldn’t bear the thought of Sammy being hurt at all, John didn’t want it any more than Dean but he was still insisting that now was the time Sammy start.
Dean was snapped back to reality when their dad pulled the Impala to a stop in a rather seedy looking part of town. The attacks had happened almost exclusively here, they hadn’t been able to pinpoint if that was because the werewolf lived here or his victims simply passed through. There hadn’t been enough commonality with the victims to tell why they were all killed other than just bad luck. Dean glanced back over the seat to Sammy who was sitting on the edge of the back bench looking alert and almost shaky. He was excited to be out for the first time and he didn’t particularly want to hear anything from Dean that implied even remotely that he shouldn’t.
He was a lot like their dad, Dean was slowly noticing, he had a strong sense of mind, and an opinion on everything. Once he’d made a decision, a very well informed decision-perhaps that was where their paths deviated at least some of the time-Sammy stuck to his guns. He didn’t want to be considered a child anymore, didn’t even want to be called Sammy, not like that was going to stop Dean, if anything it only encouraged him to use the name more.
“You boys ready?” John asked looking from one to the other quickly.
“Yes sir,” they answered in unison.
“Good,” John was the first one to exit the Impala, “Stick to the plan.”
Another quick round of ‘Yes sir’ and they were out of the car standing at the trunk with their father as he opened the hidden compartment handing them each a 9mil handgun, loaded with handmade silver bullets. Checking the gun over carefully as he’d been taught Dean kept half an eye of Sammy making sure everything was alright with him. He appeared to be doing his best to no look anxious as he ejected the magazine before quickly snapping it back in.
Dean accepted a second clip slipping it into his back pocket before his eyes turned skyward taking in the fast setting sun. It wouldn’t be long before the light of the moon filled the sky, street lights had already come on, but it was clear to Dean why this section of the city was the werewolf’s hunting grounds. Street lights or no, deep shadows stretched across the ground bathing much of the large alley in darkness. The only reason it saw any use, was that it was a straight shot from downtown’s bars to an inexpensive housing complex.
That was something that they had been able to establish. Most of the attacks had happened not long after last call. The police didn’t have a clue what to look for, their training didn’t even begin to cover the supernatural, so their best bet had been a pack of rabid dogs which they’d never been able to find. It was hard to reconcile the fact that some of the damage done to the bodies didn’t fit with a dog attack, unable to expand the scope of their thinking, the police had been left baffled.
John shut the trunk to the Impala “Keep a sharp watch,” he warned one final time before striding down the alley towards its far end. Dean took up his position opposite Sammy at their end of the alley and knelt down to wait.
It wasn’t long before Dean heard a growl low and long in the distance, at first he could have mistaken it for a dog, but he knew better. Sammy was looking around eyes wide, gun held firmly in his hand. Dean kept his eyes opened and hands steady as he listened and waited. Adrenalin coursed through his body and he had to fight to keep himself from shaking as remaining still became more difficult. The growl came again reverberating in the alley; Dean heard the scraping of claws above.
He drew a breath to further steady his hands, when the howl broke the pseudo silence hovering over the alley. Dean knew his father must have been close but in the darkness Dean couldn’t make out any movement in the shadows. “Dean…” Sammy’s voice sounded unsure, but whatever he was about to say died on his lips as the werewolf appeared.
Far more human in appearance then Hollywood ever consider the werewolf leapt from the roof the power of its jump sending it clear across the alley, to the far wall. Dean brought his gun up immediately firing at the creature, silver bullets aimed for the heart. With agility beyond that of any human the werewolf surged towards them foam dripping from the shockingly female mouth. Dean felt his attention tear in two as he took in the approaching danger and his need to watch out for Sammy.
John appeared out of the shadows not nearly so easy a target as his much smaller boys, he fired from behind catching the creature in the shoulder. An inhuman cry of pain escaped it, as Dean fired again, his aim true. The werewolf dropped body skidding across the pavement before coming to a stop; Dean looked away before it returned to its original form. His attention went instead to Sammy, he couldn’t be sure if Sam had managed to fire off a single bullet.
When he looked over he found his brother’s attention was turned up towards the roof of the building that the werewolf had appeared from. His gun was pointed down, finger lying next to the trigger, “Sammy,” Dean called wanting to be sure he was alright.
“Did you hear that?” Sam asked not looking over.
With no idea what his brother was referring too, Dean got to his feet, and took a step towards his brother. “Dean!” he heard his father shout his name in warning just as he saw the second werewolf jump from the edge of the roof right above Sammy’s head.
Dean raced to push his brother out of the way, but new before he’d taken the first step that he wasn’t going to make it in time, “Sammy!” he cried, as the creature landed, his brother fell beneath the weight but not before he’d managed to squeeze off a round. Dean’s heart swelled with pride, even as his stomach clenched in abject fear.
Firing his own gun without hesitation, Dean wanted to be sure the werewolf was dead long before it could get its teeth anywhere near Sammy’s flesh. “Sammy! Dean!” John called racing towards them his feet pounding in time with Dean’s own racing heart. Neither of them could get their fast enough to throw the creature off Sammy’s small body.
“Dean!”-
--spn--
“Dean!” Sam’s voice snapped Dean’s eyes opened, and before he knew what was happening he was lunging forward in the Impala’s front seat, heart pounding blood roaring in his ears.
“Fuck!” he cursed hazel eyes flickering madly around as he tried to gather his bearings. Sam had pulled the Impala into a convenience store parking lot; the engine had been shut off. The last thing Dean remembered was Black Sabbath playing.
“You alright?” Sam asked voice more than a little concerned as he looked at Dean, a hand still resting on Dean’s chest where he had planted it to keep Dean from smashing his face into the dashboard.
Dean pushed his brother’s hand aside not wanting him to feel just how fast his heart was racing, though he doubted Sam had missed it. Silently he cursed and blinked several times to rid his mind of the memories so vivid it was like they were happening again. -What the hell’s going on?- Dean wondered bitterly, Sammy had survived that hunt, hadn’t even been hurt all that bad, but it had scared Dean, far more deeply that he really wanted to consider.
“Dean,” Sam tried again, “Dude talk to me.”
Glancing over to his brother Dean forced a smile, “Just a dream,” he said hoping he was working more to convince Sam rather than himself.
Sam looked him square in the eyes, those deep brown eyes were piercing Dean felt sure Sam would see the lie in his words. “Must have been one hell of a dream,” he commented finally moving to get out of the car.
Dean was both surprised and relieved that Sam was willing to let the matter drop that easily. Though he realized it shouldn’t have been that shocking considering the number of times Sam had been plagued with dreams no doubt worse. Pushing open his own door, Dean didn’t think Sam would actually drop the matter that easily, but any amount of time would be welcomed. To both distance himself from the moment and put together a better answer to any of Sam’s questions.
They walked into the convenience store one after the other, and once inside Dean smacked the back of his hand against Sam’s shoulder, “Let me have the keys.” He held out his hand, and was gratified when Sam let them finally fall into his hand. Dean tried not to slip them away too quickly, rolling his shoulders as he looked about the store, “How long was I asleep?”
Sam shrugged looking up from the refrigerator full of drinks, “I’m not sure, a couple of hours. Told you, you needed more sleep,” he said pulling a bottle of soda out of the frig.
“Thank you doctor Winchester,” Dean replied dryly, accepting the bottle Sam handed to him before moving further into the store in search of something to eat.
Dean wasn’t about to let himself be talked into sleep again, at least not for a while. The dreams were far to vivid, the emotions too real it was like he was reliving these moments, moments that he shouldn’t have been able to remember that clearly. Even now fully awake, hazel eyes seeing the store around him, hearing Sam’s voice speaking to him, he felt different. Though he couldn’t put his finger on why, something in his brain itched, it was the only way he could think to describe it not that he was about to voice any of this to Sam.
They selected a few things to eat and headed back out to the Impala. Dean savored the first few seconds behind the wheel, letting his palms glide over the wheel. “Should I leave you two alone?” Sam laughed looking through his open door without climbing in.
“I’ve managed this long,” Dean returned quickly, starting the engine. Sam could only shake his head at that as he climbed in.
Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed
Lift me Up [chapter 2]