Hello Yesterday 5/?
Chapter 5
"What is this?" After the first quick skimming through Sam was now actually reading the notes. The handwriting was mainly his with notes and small paragraphs in a different one thrown in, which he assumed was Dean's. But there was more. Pictures, reports, articles. Everything looked official and he wondered how they had gotten their hands on those. His memory wasn't the best right now but he was pretty sure that the police didn't hand out stuff like this to random people.
"Turned out it was a special kind of ghost. A group actually." Dean explained and waved over the papers. "You had a fancy name for it, it's somewhere in there."
"Ghosts?" Sam looked up, searching for a hint in Dean's expression that this was some kind of prank. But Dean looked dead serious. "Is this some kind of game we play?"
It was the only explanation he could come up with. Except for actually ghost hunting. Or insanity, that one came to mind too.
"I wish." Dean shook his head. "I know this is hard to believe but ghosts are real."
"Ghosts?" Sam repeated dumbfounded.
"Ghosts, vampires, werewolves." Dean named a few common monsters. "They are all real and we hunt them."
"Hunt them?"
"Jeez, how did you make it to Stanford?" Dean let out a nervous chuckle.
"Can't remember." Sam joked, glad for the mood lifter. Dean must be yanking his chain here, he wouldn't put it beyond his brother, but the papers in his hands looked too real. Whatever this was he had been part of it. Maybe they were both delusional.
"Okay, let's pretend for a moment that you're not insane." Sam put the papers down, this was just so surreal. "How does this work? We just stumble around till we find a ghost?"
Dean eyed him for a moment as if he tried to figure out what was going on in his mind. When Sam didn't show any intention to run he reached for the notes.
"Not quite." He fished out one article, clearly ripped out of an actual newspaper, and pushed it over to Sam. "We look out for something like this. Freaky accidents, deaths the police can't explain, everything that looks like something supernatural going on."
Sam read the article more to gain some time to sort his thoughts than anything else. It was just a short note, barely saying anything beyond the fact that there had been a series of accidents in an amusement park.
"We check it out." Dean continued. "Sometimes it's a bust, a human killer or a rogue animal, then we leave it to the locals to deal with it."
"And if it's not?" Sam asked, his mind swirling with all the implications here.
"Then we find out what it is." Dean gestured over the papers. "And stop it."
"Stop it?" Sam licked his lips. "Like …?" He didn't dare to finish that sentence. What if they were two fucked up serial killers who killed innocent people they saw as monsters?
"Sam, we're not some nutjobs on a killing spree." Dean read his mind again. "Some things have to be stopped with a bullet. Werewolves for example."
"Silver bullet to the heart." Sam mumbled to himself. It knotted his guts and his mouth was too dry all of a sudden.
"Most things take a bit more effort." Dean said with a tight smile. "Ghosts usually take a lot of digging."
"Graves." Sam said without thinking. "You have to dig up the graves."
"That's right, Sammy." Dean was now leaning forward, a close eye on Sam, waiting for more memories to come up, they both were, but there was nothing. Only this one little bit. Sam let out a frustrated huff.
"Salt and burn the remains." Dean said as if that should mean something to Sam which it didn't. "That's when you got hit on the head." He continued when there was nothing coming from Sam. "Ghosts don't like it when you dig them up."
The pounding in his head was now close to an eye watering migraine, this was too much. With a groan Sam buried his face in his hands.
"Hey." Suddenly Dean was next to him with a glass of water and his pain medication. "Take it easy."
Sam took the pills and wanted nothing more than to just drop on his bed and sleep it off but there was too much going on in his head, he doubted he would find sleep any time soon.
"You still okay with one room?" Dean asked and sat down in his chair again. "Wouldn't blame you if you want some distance from me after this."
"One room is still okay." He even managed a smile. He probably should run as fast as he could but that offer alone reinforced his faith in Dean. He couldn't explain it but he trusted this man. Even when he shouldn't because c'mon ghosts?
"You're taking this better than I thought." Dean commented.
"I'm not sure if I'm taking it at all. This is …" He had no words for this. "Why us?"
For a long moment Dean didn't answer. He avoided Sam's eyes and fiddled with one piece of paper, clearly pondering if he should give Sam an easy answer or the full truth.
"When we were little." He finally started. "Our mom was killed by something supernatural."
Sam sucked in a breath. Dean had told him that their mother was dead but he had left out the circumstances.
"She burned on the ceiling. That's how Dad knew it wasn't something you can explain." Dean's voice was all husky now and his eyes too bright but Sam pretended to not notice.
"That's how Dad become a hunter, he wanted to find and kill the thing that murdered her. We grew up with this life."
"Did he find it?" Sam asked.
"No." Dean shook his head. "But he found out that it was a demon. The same demon that killed your girlfriend the same way it killed Mom. In the end it took Dad, too."
Sam sat back in his chair. He didn't know if he believed what Dean was telling him, probably not, but he could clearly tell that Dean believed it.
"Dad had a journal, you can have a look if you want." Dean offered and then a warm smile ghosted over his lips. "That's how you found out about monsters the first time around, you snagged Dad's journal and read it."
A while later Dean left to get them something for dinner but the main reason was to give Sam some time to think. He didn't say it but they both knew that that was the reason and Sam appreciated it. He needed time to think.
"You'll still be here when I come back?" Dean had asked and Sam had to admit his fear wasn't coming out of nowhere. Every sane person would run after a revelation like this but he had no intention to leave and he told Dean so.
It was more the other way around. When he heard the car disparaging in the distance, he felt alone and for a second he was sure that Dean wouldn't come back.
"Should have gone with him." He muttered to himself.
To keep his mind busy he went through the notes again. Ghosts and demons, it was a lot to take in but he couldn't deny that this was thorough research, in his handwriting no less, and if he accepted ghosts as a reasonable explanation it all made sense.
Dean had left their dad's journal on the table but so far Sam hadn't gathered enough courage to open it. According to Dean he would find way more than just ghosts and demons in there and he wasn't sure if he was ready for that. His mind was swirling enough as it was.
He let the journal be for the moment and went for a shower instead. After days in a hospital bed with only one quick shower with Dean pacing nervously just outside the bathroom Sam needed to wash off the sweat and the hospital stink.
He let the hot water massage the tight muscles in his neck and even his headache subdued to that but it sucked all the energy out of him. He had just enough left to put on some sweatpants and crawl in his bed. His intention was to wait for Dean but he was sound asleep a second later.
He woke up in a dim room he didn't recognize. So far he'd always woken up in a hospital room which this was clearly not, even in the poor light he could tell that. Sam bolted upright, rising panic made his heart jump in his throat, but when he had a frantic look around he noticed the second bed. And the outlines of somebody sleeping under the covers.
Dean. He was with Dean. Breathing in relief Sam sank back in his pillow. He had been released from the hospital and was now staying with Dean in a motel, he remembered that now.
Without waking Dean, it was 4:30 in the morning, he slipped out of bed and headed for the bathroom. He didn't feel tired anymore and his headache was barely there this morning so he dressed and made himself a coffee in the kitchenette the room provided. In the small fridge he found the food Dean had brought him for dinner and he decided that chicken noodle soup would make a good breakfast as well.
With his coffee and the soup, both steaming hot just like he needed it, he returned to the table. Everything was still there but in a neat stack near the edge.
Sam could picture Dean sitting here, eating his food, while Sam had slept right through it. Now Sam sat here and he couldn't help but look over to Dean who was still snoring softly.
Feeling better this morning he reached for the journal.
He was half-way through it, he was just skimming through on the most part, when Dean finally poked his head up.
"You awake?" Dean mumbled at his sight and rubbed the sleep off his face. "What time is it?"
"Almost eight." Sam answered, looking up from the journal. He'd expected it to be all about monsters but there was personal stuff in there too. Not much and not nearly enough but it was enough to draw a picture of what their lives had been and apparently still were.
"Do I smell coffee?" Dean sat up with a hopeful expression on his face.
Sam raised his cup to him, indicating with a nod that there was more waiting for him.
"But we only have leftovers for breakfast." He added.
"Give me ten minutes and I'll make a breakfast run." Dean offered. "Or we could go and check out that diner I saw at the corner. If you're up for that."
"Going out sounds good." Sam nodded to that. He'd been stuck in a hospital room for too long, he had no intention to get stuck in a motel room as well. But first he had a question for Dean.
"I get why you showed me this." He gestured over the research papers. At his words Dean froze sitting on the edge of the bed. "It explains some things that didn't add up. Thanks for taking that risk by the way, I could have run the second you mentioned ghosts." He smiled and after a second Dean returned the gesture, awkwardly avoiding his eyes.
"You thought we were criminals." Dean justified his decision. "It was the only way to set things straight."
"Yeah, I get that." He looked down at the papers. "And this is pretty solid proof, not that I can say I truly believe all this but I get that we're trying to do the right thing here."
There was a moment of silence before Dean spoke up: "I sense a but coming."
"This would have been enough. At least to get me thinking and to give you a chance." Sam shook his head, searching for the right words. "Why did you throw in the demon? That's big and so far I haven't seen any proof for that. I only have your word that this thing killed our parents and my girlfriend. You could have left that for later, why didn't you?" It made no sense.
Now Dean sighed, eyes fixed on his hands hanging between his knees.
"This demon isn't done with us. With you."
"What do you mean?"
"We don't know its endgame but it has plans for you and others like you." Dean said and when he looked up his eyes shone too bright. "I told you because you can get hit by a vision any second and that's scary enough when you know what's happening."
Chapter 6
Masterpost