Sam and Samuel's journey in spititland Chapter 1 (1/5)
Title: Sam and Samuel’s journey in Spiritland
Author: farfadine
Movie Prompt: Spirited Away
Characters: Sam and Cas, with Bobby, Jo, Crowley, Ruby, Ellen, Bobby, John and Dean as second roles.
Rating: PG for curses
Word Count: ~15400
Summary: The Winchesters were moving, again, and Sam wasn't happy about it. And to make it worse, his dad took a wrong turn and they ended in a forest, blocked by a strange totem guarding a tunnel. And of course, his dad and brother had to go explore it, leading them all somewhere that Sam was sure wasn't Nebraska anymore.
Notes: AU, Mary died later than in the show, the Winchesters don’t know anything about monsters. Most of the SPN characters are slightly OOC (e.g. Ruby here is Crowley's daughter), either because I needed to adapt a bit or because it's just the first time I'm writing a SPN fanfic (yay). (Also, there is a very brief appearance from a character that isn't from SPN nor Spirited away, if you spot him and guess it right, I'll give you e-cookies.) Also, thanks natakud you are awesome and thank you, thank you so much cleflink for the beta, that would have been an horrible fic to read without you.
Sam and Samuel’s journey in Spiritland
Remember your name
Do not lose hope - what you seek will be found
Trust ghosts. Trust those that you have helped to help you in their turn.
Trust dreams.
Trust your heart, and trust your story.
Instruction - Neil Gaiman
They were moving again, their few possessions crammed in the trunk of the Impala. Some bags were piled on the floor and on the back seat next to Sam. Legs propped on them, a book clutched to his chest, the teenager was lying on his back, glaring at the roof of the car, ignoring the landscape passing by the window. Why did they have to move again? He had made friends. He had thought that this time, finally… but no, they were moving again, Crossing Indiana, Illinois and Iowa to reach Nebraska. What was in Nebraska anyway? “Why?”
Sam could see the shoulders of his father tensing out of the corner of his eye. He answered in his gruff voice. “We already talked about that, Sam.”
“Your father… he looks like a bear,” Fiona had said the first time his friends had met him.
“More like a grizzly bear, yeah.” Sôsuke had added. Sam had nodded. His father could pass for a grizzly bear, what with the hair, the beard, the voice, the attitude…
“What about my brother then?” he had asked and Fiona had hummed softly.
“A friendlier bear? One who knows how to talk?” Sam had nodded again. Dean sure knew how to talk his way around every situation but still was a bear, especially in the morning.
“And me?” They had both look at him, faking deep concentration before grinning at him.
“You’re Sammy the Pooh!” Sam had snorted and silently prayed that his brother would never hear this.
We already talked about that, Sam mimicked making a face. Something hit him on the head and he yelped. Recognizing the yellow of a bag of M&M’s, he glared at his brother who was halfway turned toward him. “Grumpy Sammy’s hungry, huh!” Sam made a face at him but Dean just laughed. “Eat bitch. We still have ten hours before we arrive.”
“Shut up, jerk,” came the automatic answer which in turn prompted a “Boys!” from their father.
* * *
Sam sighed. They still weren’t there. “Two hours or so,” Dean had said before folding the map and putting on his headphones. Sam gazed a moment at his brother’s neck, the skin tanned a light gold by all his time outdoors. He then turned to the book he was still clutching against his chest. The Hobbit said the cover. Mr. Wyatt had given it to him on his last day of school as a farewell gift. Opening the book, he grabbed the card that was tucked inside.
To Samuel Winchester,
May this journey accompany you on yours,
Bill Wyatt
Sam sighed again.
“We know Sam, so stop sighing for Pete’s sake.” The teen glared at his father and then at his brother for good measure. The jerk was surely smirking anyway. Looking at the small card one more time, he shifted to put it in his jean’s pocket and then started reading.
He was roused from his book when he felt the car slow down. They couldn’t have arrived already. He remembered vaguely Dean indicating Dad to take the next freeway exit. Sitting again, Sam noticed the roadwork signs. His father grunted and followed the arrow marked detour while Dean unfolded the map. Both Sam and his father groaned when Dean announced “It’ll take another hour to get there but if we’re lucky, it will still be daylight.” Great. Sam slumped down on the bags next to him, looking hazily at the scenery by the window, slowly falling asleep.
* * *
He heard his brother, the one bear that had learned to talk, speaking with someone. Directions were given and the car started moving again. Sam shifted, angling himself so that he was laying half against the bags and half against the back seat. He looked through bleary eyes as the shops of the city they were passing through turned into houses, then fields, then trees. After a turn, the car started to jolt as if the road they were on was less (or not at all) kept up. Or as if asphalt was nonexistent. Their new house was in the middle of nowhere. Fantastic! Too tired to vocalize his thoughts, Sam let his opinion be known by another sigh. “Well, look on the bright side, Sammy, maybe you’ll have the bike you always wanted so much,” Dean smirked. Two years too late. Sam thought about smacking Dean’s head but something outside caught his attention.
A short wooden statue covered by moss was standing on the side of the road. The features were almost completely erased by time but the smile had stayed. Sam straightened and kept looking through the rear window at the totem as it grew smaller.
“Did you see that?” he asked, leaning over the front seat between his dad and brother. Dean was looking at the map again, displeasure written on his face.
“No, Sam, I… Dad, I think we took a wrong turn and...” Both boys were startled when John suddenly hit the brake. Some kind of totem, another one, was standing in the middle of the path. A few steps behind that, Sam could see an old rickety wooden gate and then what looked like a tunnel made of trees.
A shiver ran down Sam’s spine and he looked in disbelief as his father and brother exited the car and walked to the gate. Not wanting to stay alone, Sam get out of the car too and followed them but stopped at the totem. Rocking on the balls of his feet, fists clenched, Sam tried to ignore the feeling of uneasiness growing inside him but the sharp cry of a bird broke his resolve. “I really don’t feel good about this. Shouldn’t we go back before it goes dark?” Dean turned around and grinned at him.
“Don’t be chicken, Sammy. Come on.” Sam was about to reply but his brother had turned again, humming the Indiana Jones theme and following their father who had opened the gate.
Sam looked at the totem on his right. A bird was resting on the head of another animal standing on his rear legs. It was a big feline, a cougar maybe. ‘A bear’ he heard Fiona say in his head. It was smiling too, but Sam found nothing reassuring in it. Looking up front again, he saw his father and brother walking into the tree tunnel and, after a second of hesitation, jogged to catch them up.
“Watch out, Sammy,” hissed his brother when he almost ran into him.
“I don’t think this is a good idea.” said Sam, staying close to his big brother. He looked back and felt anguish built inside of him as he noticed that he could barely see the gate, the totem and the Impala behind. Clenching his fists, Sam faced forward again.
The tunnel was dark and seemed like it went on forever. Sam felt like they had walked for an hour when his digital watch told him that only ten minutes had passed. The path started to clear then and they found themselves in a vast meadow. Green grass stretched all around and there were short totems and other statues standing along the trail that Dean and John kept on following.
Sam’s anxiety swirled in his stomach and he looked back once more only to see a few trees and the darkness of the tunnel they had come through. Not wanting to stay alone, Sam ran again to his brother and father but kept looking around him.
Something wasn’t right, Sam knew it and it wasn’t just the absence of any sound, the ruined houses he spotted in the prairies or sculptures of various styles, subjects and origins they passed. It was something he couldn’t explain, a ball in his stomach, a ringing at the back of his head. The more he walked, the more he wanted to go back, but Dean and John were still going on as if the more they walked the more curious they became about what could be at the end of the path.
Finally, they crossed a dry riverbed, stepping on wide rounded stones, and stopped at the bottom of a staircase on the other side. Smells of food assaulted them and, while it made Sam fidget, bad feelings multiplied tenfold, his father and brother seemed pleased and started climbing the stairs. Suppressing a groan, Sam followed them, astounded at the sight of the street they came onto.
All around them were two or three-story buildings painted in bright colors - blue, green, purple, orange - all their architectures different as though someone had taken New Orleans residences, western saloons, Chinese houses, Arabian palaces, mixed them all together and thrown them onto a map like dice. Paper lanterns and flags of all origins were hanging from balconies and across the street, swaying in the breeze that conveyed smells of food. Most of the buildings seemed to be restaurants, names and signs written in all kind of languages, plates full of all sorts of food crowding the tables. There was something exhilarating and joyful about the street and Sam was sure it could have been a fun place if his father, brother and he weren’t the only people around and if the silence wasn’t so heavy. The more Sam looked around the more his chest constricted.
The strangeness of the place didn’t seem to bother Dean and John who had walked toward one of the restaurants. Sam tried to call them but no sound came out of his mouth so he ran toward them. Getting closer to his family, Sam felt like he could breathe more easily and he shamelessly reached for his brother. “Can we leave now? This place creeps me out. It’s like… a ghost town.” Dean laughed and batted Sam’s hand away.
“You’re a total wuss, Sammy. The food couldn’t have cooked itself so it’s not a ghost town. Hello, anybody here?” Dean yelled the last part, already sitting down next to their father at a table covered in hamburgers, French fries, cokes and beers.
“We’ll pay when they get back. Sam, sit down and eat.” Sam turned toward his father in disbelief. He was drinking a bottle of beer and putting food in his plate with his free hand and Dean was halfway through a cheeseburger. Sam would have started a rant on the rudeness of it if he could have shaken out the bad feeling cramping his stomach.
Stepping back, he looked around but there was still no one to be seen. At the end of the street, at the top of another staircase, a clock on a bright red pole caught his eyes. Sam walked slowly towards it, putting a hand on the colored metal as he moved to stand by its side. There was a wooden bridge in front of him that was made of the same red as the pole and a huge building on the other side. It looked like those old houses in Georgia, with white façades, columns and balconies, except it had more stories than usual.
Sam felt the urge to leave the place again but the horn of a bus broke the silence and he walked to the bridge, looking over the parapet. The ground was a good mile down and, on a road raised on a mound, a bus was travelling, headlights lighting the way. It honked again, the sound echoing all the way up. Sam watched it disappear into the first light of sunset. The sight of the bus, and the thought of people in it, was reassuring: it was something he knew, a familiar mark. The sight had somewhat calmed him but he straightened suddenly, the heavy feeling of someone watching him making him shiver.
Turning around he saw a young man eyeing him with suspicion a few feet away from him. He looked barely older than Dean, with dark tousled hair and blue eyes that darkened with irritation. “You are not supposed to be here. Leave right this instant.”
“What?” blurted Sam, surprised by the angry tone.
“It’s almost night. You have to leave before it’s completely dark,” the young man continued while walking toward Sam. The teenager looked up at the sky and gasped. He was sure that the sun had just started to set a few moment ago but the sky was already half dark, blue turning a deeper shade quickly. Sam snapped out of his observations when a hand gripped his shoulder. The young man turned him around easily and pushed him forward. “Run, you have to get to the other side of the bridge.”
There was something in the stranger’s voice, something like thunder and Larsen effect, something imperious that made Sam start running without looking back. He crossed the bridge quickly, went down the stairs two steps at a time while the lanterns in the street below flickered to life. He ran to the restaurant where he had left his brother and father and bumped into Dean, gripping his arm for balance. “Dean!” He tried to pull his brother, yelling at his dad’s leather-covered shoulders. A puff of warm air on his face made him turn his head toward his brother and he let go with a yelp, stumbling backward.
It wasn’t Dean. It wasn’t his dad either. Two bears were looking at him, blinking slowly, and Sam started running again. He ran to the end of the street, barely noticing the shadows turning more and more corporeal around him. He ran down the stairs but had to stop abrutply. Where there had been a field and a dry riverbed there was now a lake where the lanterns of boats were reflected on the dark water. The sky was dark too, the first stars piercing the night shyly while Sam was trying to catch his breath, his thoughts, his everything.
What now? What should he do? Where should he go? Sam looked at the boats coming closer with wide eyes that widened even more when, after combing his hand through his hair in a frustrated gesture he noticed he could see through it. It was becoming transparent, as was his other hand when he raised it too, the tip of his fingers almost completely invisible while the color of his wrists was just starting to disappear. Just then, the boats docked with a long hooting sound and Sam snapped out of his stupor and ran again. He went to his right, jumped into the bushes that bordered the staircase and huddled up.
Peeking through the foliage, he could see the gangways being pulled down and passengers leaving the boats but, while some of them looked human, others didn’t at all. There were swarm of lights buzzing around like glowworms followed by satyrs and leprechauns. Some creatures with red faces and long noses came after that and Sam was sure a bunch of seals had changed into human form between two boats. He felt again the sensation of being watched and turned his head to stare into pale blue eyes. The man was tall, maybe taller than his dad, with pale skin, long blond hair and fangs that grew longer as he smiled.
Sam scrambled further back into the bushes and yelped when he felt a hand gripping his shoulder once again. Turning slowly, he released a shaky breath when he saw the young man fromf before smiling gently at him. There was a nagging voice in the back of Sam’s head saying that he should still be cautious, but the warmth of the hand on his shoulder calmed him a little. His voice was still unsteady when he felt like talking again.
“Where am I? What is this?” he asked, eyes locked with the stranger’s.
“Not your world anymore. Drink this or you will disappear completely.” The young man thrust a vial filled with a clear liquid in front of Sam who eyed it suspiciously. “You will not be transformed into a bear,” the stranger added, moving the vial closer. Sorrow crept into Sam’s heart and he took the vial in his almost invisible hand. He drunk it and was happy to see his fingers again as he gave the vial back.
However, the feeling didn’t last. “It was them that I saw, huh? The bears… it was my brother and father wasn’t it?” asked Sam to his new friend as they retreated out of the bushes.
“Unfortunately, yes. But we don’t have time. Come, follow…” The young man stopped abruptly and stepped back close to Sam as if hiding him from something. Sam opened his mouth but a hand was put in front of it. The tension coming from his friend made Sam stand immobile and alert.
The sound came first, the stomp of a heavy mass hitting the ground, a low growl interrupted by sniffing noises like an animal searching for something. The smell came shortly after the growling had come nearer. A horrid smell of rotten eggs made Sam gag. He closed his eyes and willed himself unnoticeable, his body tensing more and more as the seconds went by as slowly as snails.
When finally the animal went away, the young man took back his hands and gripped Sam’s elbow. “He is looking for you. We must hurry.” He was up and running the next instant. They were going fast, too fast to be normal, houses and lights blurring together, and Sam felt like he was a kite a second away from rising into the sky. They zigzagged between all the creatures walking in the street and entering or leaving restaurants, then stopped a moment when they reached the bridge where they had met.
The young man, still gripping Sam’s elbow, walked directly to the two creatures greeting the crowd of other… things… crossing the bridge and spoke to them too quickly for Sam to figure what they were and what they were saying. The older boy then turned to him. “We are going to cross that bridge. You must hold your breath while doing it or you will be discovered. Do you understand me?” Sam nodded and barely had time to take a deep breath before they started walking again.
Crossing the bridge seemed to take forever. Sam was looking straight ahead, afraid to forget to hold his breath if he looked at the entities walking by his side. He had to put his hand in front of his mouth and nose halfway across when holding his breath became more difficult. They were almost at the end, two steps away from landing on the other side of the bridge when Sam couldn’t hold his breath anymore and exhaled. A creature like the ones that stood at the beginning of the bridge pointed at him and opened his mouth but, before he could talk, Sam’s friend touched its forehead and the creature collapsed on the ground.
They didn’t lose time waiting to see what would happen. The young man dragged Sam on the side, behind a hedge and into a small garden in front of the house where they crouched behind a shrub of azaleas. Light was pouring from the windows, silhouettes starting running behind them as they heard someone yelling that a human had been spotted. Sam tried to apologize but his friend put a finger on his lips. “We don’t have time. You can’t stay here long or they will find you.” The young man looked briefly at the windows. Behind them, people were still running, shouting at each other about the human that had to be found. “I’ll keep them occupied while you run away,” continued the older boy. Sam tensed at the thought of being alone again.
“You can’t. You can’t leave me like this.” Sam voice was slightly quivering and he wanted nothing more than to grab the young man and never let him go. The older boy looked at him with gentle eyes.
“I am sorry, but it is the only solution if you want to survive in this world and save your father and brother.” Sam stared back with sad eyes.
“So they really turned into bears. All that… it’s not a nightmare, is it?” The young man didn’t answer.
They stayed silent a few seconds before the older boy reached out a hand to put two fingers to Sam’s forehead. “When no one is around, you will take the back door behind you. There is a staircase going down. Take it. It will lead you to a corridor and then to the boiler room. There is a man there, he is called Bobby. You must talk to him.” As he was told directions, a picture of the path to follow appeared in Sam’s head, leaving him a bit dizzy when his friend pulled back.
“Backdoor, staircase, corridor, boiler room, Bobby,” repeated Sam.
“Tell him you want to work for him. You might have to argue until he caves. If you can’t convince him, Crowley will change you into an animal.”
“Crowley?”
“He is the owner of this establishment. He can’t do anything if you are working here. But you must know that he and Bobby will try their best to make you leave. You must resist. Do you understand?” Sam nodded, trying to will down his anxiety. “And you have to remember, you must trust me, Samuel, I am your friend.” Sam started to nod but froze.
“How do you know my name? And what’s yours?”
“Because I have knows you since you were a little boy. As for me, my name is Cas.”
NEXT // MASTERPOST
Notes:
1) Fiona and Sôsuke are both Ghibli’s movie characters’ name. Fiona come from Porco Rosso and Sôsuke from Ponyo on a cliff by the sea.
2) I searched for Mister Wyatt's name on SuperWiki but apparently he was never named so I named him Bill because I was reading The perks of being a wallflower at the time.
3) A Larsen effect is the name of audio feedback, it's this really shrill sound that happen when you put a microphone to close to a loudspeaker.
Author: farfadine
Movie Prompt: Spirited Away
Characters: Sam and Cas, with Bobby, Jo, Crowley, Ruby, Ellen, Bobby, John and Dean as second roles.
Rating: PG for curses
Word Count: ~15400
Summary: The Winchesters were moving, again, and Sam wasn't happy about it. And to make it worse, his dad took a wrong turn and they ended in a forest, blocked by a strange totem guarding a tunnel. And of course, his dad and brother had to go explore it, leading them all somewhere that Sam was sure wasn't Nebraska anymore.
Notes: AU, Mary died later than in the show, the Winchesters don’t know anything about monsters. Most of the SPN characters are slightly OOC (e.g. Ruby here is Crowley's daughter), either because I needed to adapt a bit or because it's just the first time I'm writing a SPN fanfic (yay). (Also, there is a very brief appearance from a character that isn't from SPN nor Spirited away, if you spot him and guess it right, I'll give you e-cookies.) Also, thanks natakud you are awesome and thank you, thank you so much cleflink for the beta, that would have been an horrible fic to read without you.
Sam and Samuel’s journey in Spiritland
Remember your name
Do not lose hope - what you seek will be found
Trust ghosts. Trust those that you have helped to help you in their turn.
Trust dreams.
Trust your heart, and trust your story.
Instruction - Neil Gaiman
They were moving again, their few possessions crammed in the trunk of the Impala. Some bags were piled on the floor and on the back seat next to Sam. Legs propped on them, a book clutched to his chest, the teenager was lying on his back, glaring at the roof of the car, ignoring the landscape passing by the window. Why did they have to move again? He had made friends. He had thought that this time, finally… but no, they were moving again, Crossing Indiana, Illinois and Iowa to reach Nebraska. What was in Nebraska anyway? “Why?”
Sam could see the shoulders of his father tensing out of the corner of his eye. He answered in his gruff voice. “We already talked about that, Sam.”
“Your father… he looks like a bear,” Fiona had said the first time his friends had met him.
“More like a grizzly bear, yeah.” Sôsuke had added. Sam had nodded. His father could pass for a grizzly bear, what with the hair, the beard, the voice, the attitude…
“What about my brother then?” he had asked and Fiona had hummed softly.
“A friendlier bear? One who knows how to talk?” Sam had nodded again. Dean sure knew how to talk his way around every situation but still was a bear, especially in the morning.
“And me?” They had both look at him, faking deep concentration before grinning at him.
“You’re Sammy the Pooh!” Sam had snorted and silently prayed that his brother would never hear this.
We already talked about that, Sam mimicked making a face. Something hit him on the head and he yelped. Recognizing the yellow of a bag of M&M’s, he glared at his brother who was halfway turned toward him. “Grumpy Sammy’s hungry, huh!” Sam made a face at him but Dean just laughed. “Eat bitch. We still have ten hours before we arrive.”
“Shut up, jerk,” came the automatic answer which in turn prompted a “Boys!” from their father.
* * *
Sam sighed. They still weren’t there. “Two hours or so,” Dean had said before folding the map and putting on his headphones. Sam gazed a moment at his brother’s neck, the skin tanned a light gold by all his time outdoors. He then turned to the book he was still clutching against his chest. The Hobbit said the cover. Mr. Wyatt had given it to him on his last day of school as a farewell gift. Opening the book, he grabbed the card that was tucked inside.
To Samuel Winchester,
May this journey accompany you on yours,
Bill Wyatt
Sam sighed again.
“We know Sam, so stop sighing for Pete’s sake.” The teen glared at his father and then at his brother for good measure. The jerk was surely smirking anyway. Looking at the small card one more time, he shifted to put it in his jean’s pocket and then started reading.
He was roused from his book when he felt the car slow down. They couldn’t have arrived already. He remembered vaguely Dean indicating Dad to take the next freeway exit. Sitting again, Sam noticed the roadwork signs. His father grunted and followed the arrow marked detour while Dean unfolded the map. Both Sam and his father groaned when Dean announced “It’ll take another hour to get there but if we’re lucky, it will still be daylight.” Great. Sam slumped down on the bags next to him, looking hazily at the scenery by the window, slowly falling asleep.
* * *
He heard his brother, the one bear that had learned to talk, speaking with someone. Directions were given and the car started moving again. Sam shifted, angling himself so that he was laying half against the bags and half against the back seat. He looked through bleary eyes as the shops of the city they were passing through turned into houses, then fields, then trees. After a turn, the car started to jolt as if the road they were on was less (or not at all) kept up. Or as if asphalt was nonexistent. Their new house was in the middle of nowhere. Fantastic! Too tired to vocalize his thoughts, Sam let his opinion be known by another sigh. “Well, look on the bright side, Sammy, maybe you’ll have the bike you always wanted so much,” Dean smirked. Two years too late. Sam thought about smacking Dean’s head but something outside caught his attention.
A short wooden statue covered by moss was standing on the side of the road. The features were almost completely erased by time but the smile had stayed. Sam straightened and kept looking through the rear window at the totem as it grew smaller.
“Did you see that?” he asked, leaning over the front seat between his dad and brother. Dean was looking at the map again, displeasure written on his face.
“No, Sam, I… Dad, I think we took a wrong turn and...” Both boys were startled when John suddenly hit the brake. Some kind of totem, another one, was standing in the middle of the path. A few steps behind that, Sam could see an old rickety wooden gate and then what looked like a tunnel made of trees.
A shiver ran down Sam’s spine and he looked in disbelief as his father and brother exited the car and walked to the gate. Not wanting to stay alone, Sam get out of the car too and followed them but stopped at the totem. Rocking on the balls of his feet, fists clenched, Sam tried to ignore the feeling of uneasiness growing inside him but the sharp cry of a bird broke his resolve. “I really don’t feel good about this. Shouldn’t we go back before it goes dark?” Dean turned around and grinned at him.
“Don’t be chicken, Sammy. Come on.” Sam was about to reply but his brother had turned again, humming the Indiana Jones theme and following their father who had opened the gate.
Sam looked at the totem on his right. A bird was resting on the head of another animal standing on his rear legs. It was a big feline, a cougar maybe. ‘A bear’ he heard Fiona say in his head. It was smiling too, but Sam found nothing reassuring in it. Looking up front again, he saw his father and brother walking into the tree tunnel and, after a second of hesitation, jogged to catch them up.
“Watch out, Sammy,” hissed his brother when he almost ran into him.
“I don’t think this is a good idea.” said Sam, staying close to his big brother. He looked back and felt anguish built inside of him as he noticed that he could barely see the gate, the totem and the Impala behind. Clenching his fists, Sam faced forward again.
The tunnel was dark and seemed like it went on forever. Sam felt like they had walked for an hour when his digital watch told him that only ten minutes had passed. The path started to clear then and they found themselves in a vast meadow. Green grass stretched all around and there were short totems and other statues standing along the trail that Dean and John kept on following.
Sam’s anxiety swirled in his stomach and he looked back once more only to see a few trees and the darkness of the tunnel they had come through. Not wanting to stay alone, Sam ran again to his brother and father but kept looking around him.
Something wasn’t right, Sam knew it and it wasn’t just the absence of any sound, the ruined houses he spotted in the prairies or sculptures of various styles, subjects and origins they passed. It was something he couldn’t explain, a ball in his stomach, a ringing at the back of his head. The more he walked, the more he wanted to go back, but Dean and John were still going on as if the more they walked the more curious they became about what could be at the end of the path.
Finally, they crossed a dry riverbed, stepping on wide rounded stones, and stopped at the bottom of a staircase on the other side. Smells of food assaulted them and, while it made Sam fidget, bad feelings multiplied tenfold, his father and brother seemed pleased and started climbing the stairs. Suppressing a groan, Sam followed them, astounded at the sight of the street they came onto.
All around them were two or three-story buildings painted in bright colors - blue, green, purple, orange - all their architectures different as though someone had taken New Orleans residences, western saloons, Chinese houses, Arabian palaces, mixed them all together and thrown them onto a map like dice. Paper lanterns and flags of all origins were hanging from balconies and across the street, swaying in the breeze that conveyed smells of food. Most of the buildings seemed to be restaurants, names and signs written in all kind of languages, plates full of all sorts of food crowding the tables. There was something exhilarating and joyful about the street and Sam was sure it could have been a fun place if his father, brother and he weren’t the only people around and if the silence wasn’t so heavy. The more Sam looked around the more his chest constricted.
The strangeness of the place didn’t seem to bother Dean and John who had walked toward one of the restaurants. Sam tried to call them but no sound came out of his mouth so he ran toward them. Getting closer to his family, Sam felt like he could breathe more easily and he shamelessly reached for his brother. “Can we leave now? This place creeps me out. It’s like… a ghost town.” Dean laughed and batted Sam’s hand away.
“You’re a total wuss, Sammy. The food couldn’t have cooked itself so it’s not a ghost town. Hello, anybody here?” Dean yelled the last part, already sitting down next to their father at a table covered in hamburgers, French fries, cokes and beers.
“We’ll pay when they get back. Sam, sit down and eat.” Sam turned toward his father in disbelief. He was drinking a bottle of beer and putting food in his plate with his free hand and Dean was halfway through a cheeseburger. Sam would have started a rant on the rudeness of it if he could have shaken out the bad feeling cramping his stomach.
Stepping back, he looked around but there was still no one to be seen. At the end of the street, at the top of another staircase, a clock on a bright red pole caught his eyes. Sam walked slowly towards it, putting a hand on the colored metal as he moved to stand by its side. There was a wooden bridge in front of him that was made of the same red as the pole and a huge building on the other side. It looked like those old houses in Georgia, with white façades, columns and balconies, except it had more stories than usual.
Sam felt the urge to leave the place again but the horn of a bus broke the silence and he walked to the bridge, looking over the parapet. The ground was a good mile down and, on a road raised on a mound, a bus was travelling, headlights lighting the way. It honked again, the sound echoing all the way up. Sam watched it disappear into the first light of sunset. The sight of the bus, and the thought of people in it, was reassuring: it was something he knew, a familiar mark. The sight had somewhat calmed him but he straightened suddenly, the heavy feeling of someone watching him making him shiver.
Turning around he saw a young man eyeing him with suspicion a few feet away from him. He looked barely older than Dean, with dark tousled hair and blue eyes that darkened with irritation. “You are not supposed to be here. Leave right this instant.”
“What?” blurted Sam, surprised by the angry tone.
“It’s almost night. You have to leave before it’s completely dark,” the young man continued while walking toward Sam. The teenager looked up at the sky and gasped. He was sure that the sun had just started to set a few moment ago but the sky was already half dark, blue turning a deeper shade quickly. Sam snapped out of his observations when a hand gripped his shoulder. The young man turned him around easily and pushed him forward. “Run, you have to get to the other side of the bridge.”
There was something in the stranger’s voice, something like thunder and Larsen effect, something imperious that made Sam start running without looking back. He crossed the bridge quickly, went down the stairs two steps at a time while the lanterns in the street below flickered to life. He ran to the restaurant where he had left his brother and father and bumped into Dean, gripping his arm for balance. “Dean!” He tried to pull his brother, yelling at his dad’s leather-covered shoulders. A puff of warm air on his face made him turn his head toward his brother and he let go with a yelp, stumbling backward.
It wasn’t Dean. It wasn’t his dad either. Two bears were looking at him, blinking slowly, and Sam started running again. He ran to the end of the street, barely noticing the shadows turning more and more corporeal around him. He ran down the stairs but had to stop abrutply. Where there had been a field and a dry riverbed there was now a lake where the lanterns of boats were reflected on the dark water. The sky was dark too, the first stars piercing the night shyly while Sam was trying to catch his breath, his thoughts, his everything.
What now? What should he do? Where should he go? Sam looked at the boats coming closer with wide eyes that widened even more when, after combing his hand through his hair in a frustrated gesture he noticed he could see through it. It was becoming transparent, as was his other hand when he raised it too, the tip of his fingers almost completely invisible while the color of his wrists was just starting to disappear. Just then, the boats docked with a long hooting sound and Sam snapped out of his stupor and ran again. He went to his right, jumped into the bushes that bordered the staircase and huddled up.
Peeking through the foliage, he could see the gangways being pulled down and passengers leaving the boats but, while some of them looked human, others didn’t at all. There were swarm of lights buzzing around like glowworms followed by satyrs and leprechauns. Some creatures with red faces and long noses came after that and Sam was sure a bunch of seals had changed into human form between two boats. He felt again the sensation of being watched and turned his head to stare into pale blue eyes. The man was tall, maybe taller than his dad, with pale skin, long blond hair and fangs that grew longer as he smiled.
Sam scrambled further back into the bushes and yelped when he felt a hand gripping his shoulder once again. Turning slowly, he released a shaky breath when he saw the young man fromf before smiling gently at him. There was a nagging voice in the back of Sam’s head saying that he should still be cautious, but the warmth of the hand on his shoulder calmed him a little. His voice was still unsteady when he felt like talking again.
“Where am I? What is this?” he asked, eyes locked with the stranger’s.
“Not your world anymore. Drink this or you will disappear completely.” The young man thrust a vial filled with a clear liquid in front of Sam who eyed it suspiciously. “You will not be transformed into a bear,” the stranger added, moving the vial closer. Sorrow crept into Sam’s heart and he took the vial in his almost invisible hand. He drunk it and was happy to see his fingers again as he gave the vial back.
However, the feeling didn’t last. “It was them that I saw, huh? The bears… it was my brother and father wasn’t it?” asked Sam to his new friend as they retreated out of the bushes.
“Unfortunately, yes. But we don’t have time. Come, follow…” The young man stopped abruptly and stepped back close to Sam as if hiding him from something. Sam opened his mouth but a hand was put in front of it. The tension coming from his friend made Sam stand immobile and alert.
The sound came first, the stomp of a heavy mass hitting the ground, a low growl interrupted by sniffing noises like an animal searching for something. The smell came shortly after the growling had come nearer. A horrid smell of rotten eggs made Sam gag. He closed his eyes and willed himself unnoticeable, his body tensing more and more as the seconds went by as slowly as snails.
When finally the animal went away, the young man took back his hands and gripped Sam’s elbow. “He is looking for you. We must hurry.” He was up and running the next instant. They were going fast, too fast to be normal, houses and lights blurring together, and Sam felt like he was a kite a second away from rising into the sky. They zigzagged between all the creatures walking in the street and entering or leaving restaurants, then stopped a moment when they reached the bridge where they had met.
The young man, still gripping Sam’s elbow, walked directly to the two creatures greeting the crowd of other… things… crossing the bridge and spoke to them too quickly for Sam to figure what they were and what they were saying. The older boy then turned to him. “We are going to cross that bridge. You must hold your breath while doing it or you will be discovered. Do you understand me?” Sam nodded and barely had time to take a deep breath before they started walking again.
Crossing the bridge seemed to take forever. Sam was looking straight ahead, afraid to forget to hold his breath if he looked at the entities walking by his side. He had to put his hand in front of his mouth and nose halfway across when holding his breath became more difficult. They were almost at the end, two steps away from landing on the other side of the bridge when Sam couldn’t hold his breath anymore and exhaled. A creature like the ones that stood at the beginning of the bridge pointed at him and opened his mouth but, before he could talk, Sam’s friend touched its forehead and the creature collapsed on the ground.
They didn’t lose time waiting to see what would happen. The young man dragged Sam on the side, behind a hedge and into a small garden in front of the house where they crouched behind a shrub of azaleas. Light was pouring from the windows, silhouettes starting running behind them as they heard someone yelling that a human had been spotted. Sam tried to apologize but his friend put a finger on his lips. “We don’t have time. You can’t stay here long or they will find you.” The young man looked briefly at the windows. Behind them, people were still running, shouting at each other about the human that had to be found. “I’ll keep them occupied while you run away,” continued the older boy. Sam tensed at the thought of being alone again.
“You can’t. You can’t leave me like this.” Sam voice was slightly quivering and he wanted nothing more than to grab the young man and never let him go. The older boy looked at him with gentle eyes.
“I am sorry, but it is the only solution if you want to survive in this world and save your father and brother.” Sam stared back with sad eyes.
“So they really turned into bears. All that… it’s not a nightmare, is it?” The young man didn’t answer.
They stayed silent a few seconds before the older boy reached out a hand to put two fingers to Sam’s forehead. “When no one is around, you will take the back door behind you. There is a staircase going down. Take it. It will lead you to a corridor and then to the boiler room. There is a man there, he is called Bobby. You must talk to him.” As he was told directions, a picture of the path to follow appeared in Sam’s head, leaving him a bit dizzy when his friend pulled back.
“Backdoor, staircase, corridor, boiler room, Bobby,” repeated Sam.
“Tell him you want to work for him. You might have to argue until he caves. If you can’t convince him, Crowley will change you into an animal.”
“Crowley?”
“He is the owner of this establishment. He can’t do anything if you are working here. But you must know that he and Bobby will try their best to make you leave. You must resist. Do you understand?” Sam nodded, trying to will down his anxiety. “And you have to remember, you must trust me, Samuel, I am your friend.” Sam started to nod but froze.
“How do you know my name? And what’s yours?”
“Because I have knows you since you were a little boy. As for me, my name is Cas.”
NEXT // MASTERPOST
Notes:
1) Fiona and Sôsuke are both Ghibli’s movie characters’ name. Fiona come from Porco Rosso and Sôsuke from Ponyo on a cliff by the sea.
2) I searched for Mister Wyatt's name on SuperWiki but apparently he was never named so I named him Bill because I was reading The perks of being a wallflower at the time.
3) A Larsen effect is the name of audio feedback, it's this really shrill sound that happen when you put a microphone to close to a loudspeaker.