Follow You Home - Chapter Three
Chapter Three
Life had become way too routine for Sam over the last few days. Dean had left but there was a chance that he’d change his mind and come back. So Sam had stayed at the same motel and he’d ordered take-out every night because he didn’t want to risk meeting a demon.
It was boring without Dean; there was no hunting, no playful bickering over pointless things, no-one to talk to.
Now, he’d finally shaken himself out of his self-pity. Pulling on his best shirt, he fumbled slightly with the buttons as he tried to think of a way to explain away the last few years. After a quiet word with the manager of the hotel he’d been given a list of places that were looking for workers. He and Dean would need money when they started hunting again. If. He had to keep reminding himself that nothing was guaranteed anymore. He couldn’t get his hopes up.
The first place on his list was a local bar just a few minutes from the motel. Pulling the door shut behind him, he headed across the parking lot and tried not to look at the empty space where the Impala had been. He was nearing the edge of the lot when he heard the screaming. His head snapped around as he tried to work out where the sound was coming from. The motel.
Spinning around, Sam began to run back across the lot, his eyes scanning the building as he searched for the trouble. As he reached the entrance the door burst open and he caught a glimpse of black eyes flashing before the pain exploded in his head.
Blood. He could smell the blood and all he wanted to do was kill this demon, kill it and drain it. He stumbled back as the demon pushed past him and he snarled, getting ready to give chase.
A hand on his chest stopped him.
“It’s not worth it, Sam.” Castiel placed both of his hands on Sam’s shoulders, holding him in place.
The further away the demon got, the easier it became. He watched as it moved out of sight and leant back against the wall, breathing heavily.
“I don’t want it, Cas. I really don’t.”
“I know.”
“But when it’s near, it’s all I can think about. It’ll get easier, right? I mean, it’s not going to be this hard forever. Please tell me it’s going to get easier.”
“It’ll never completely go away but, yes, I believe that it will become easier with time. Until then, there will be people to help you. Me, Dean-”
He turned away, “Dean’s gone.”
“He’ll be back. He loves you, too.”
He swung back around, ready to ask the angel why he still cared, why he thought Dean would still care. But he was alone except from the motel manager who was giving him a concerned look.
---
Snarling, Dean swung the axe at the vampire in front of him and smirked as he hit his target. A noise behind him caused him to turn around, lashing out again with the axe as he did so. The axe caught the newest assailant on the arm and it shouted out in agony before throwing itself at Dean, sending them both tumbling to the floor.
It managed to get a few punches in before Dean got the upper-hand again and he hurried to bring the axe down before it had time to recover. Satisfied, he stood back for a moment as he caught his breath before he walked away.
Outside the empty building, people walked along the dark streets unaware of how close they might have come to death. Shaking his head, Dean jogged towards the Impala and climbed into the driver’s seat before changing his mind and getting into the back. It was late; time for him to try and get some sleep.
He huddled under the blankets in the back and tried to ignore his rumbling stomach; he’d find some food in the morning, once he’d found a place to stay.
Just as they had every night, his thoughts turned to Sam and he wondered what his brother was doing. He hoped that he wasn’t hunting, not alone with no-one to watch his back. Or maybe he was starting to live the normal life that he’d always wanted. Dean frowned; he didn’t much like that idea, either. The memory of Sam’s confession wouldn’t go away, and the idea that his little brother had been in love with him for years made him question his own actions. Had he unknowingly encouraged Sam? Suddenly, he felt the urge to kill something again.
---
It had taken him three days to summon the courage to leave the motel room again. It was only when he had realised that the demon attacking someone at the very place that he’d stayed had to be more than a coincidence that he had packed all of his things in his duffel and handed the key in at the desk in the lobby.
Now, driving out of town in a car that he’d rented -he still couldn’t bring himself to steal a car off the street unless it was absolutely necessary - he tried to work out what he was going to do. Dean had made it perfectly clear that he didn’t want Sam to try and find him and he was nowhere near ready to face Bobby. That left him with only one option; he had to keep going on the road until Dean either came back or told him that he was staying away for good.
Shaking the thought out of his head, he reached over and fiddled with the button on the radio until he found a channel that he liked the sound of. It took him twenty miles of blacktop to realise that he was listening to AC/DC. After that, he drove in silence.
He stopped in a town that looked exactly the same as the one he’d just left, abandoned the car and walked until he found a motel. As he lay on the bed he glanced to the right and realised that he’d automatically got a room with two singles. Dean not being there was never going to be normal.
---
Dean woke up slowly, groaning as he tried to sit up. His head hurt. Everywhere hurt. Looking around, he saw that he was alone, lying in an alley somewhere and he tried to remember what had happened to him. He pushed himself up off the ground, wincing at the pain in his wrist, and glanced up and down. He visibly relaxed when he spotted the Impala at the end of the alley and he walked towards it as fast as he could; if something was out there, he needed to get to safety until he could remember what it was that he was dealing with.
He didn’t make it.
Something barrelled into him, knocking him to the ground and he felt for his gun even as he rolled to a stop on the ground. It wasn’t there. Cursing, he tried to move away but found himself up against a wall. He had no gun and he still couldn’t remember what he had been hunting. There was only one thing he could do.
Charging forwards, he knocked into the creature with as much force as he could, ignoring the effect that it had on his own injuries. It stumbled backwards and he was momentarily startled; it looked almost human. He jumped to the side as it came towards him once more, confusing it just long enough for him to reach down and pulled his knife out of his boot.
“Come on then, you son of a bitch. Show me what you’ve got.”
It lunged, snarling angrily and he took advantage of it’s rage, feigning a punch to it’s face. As it reached up to block him, he plunged the knife deep into it’s stomach, grinning as it roared in pain.
“You haven’t got much, have you?”
He finished the job off quickly, running on adrenaline. When he was done, he salted and burned the corpse - just in case. Back in the Impala, he sagged against the seat as his injuries began to make themselves known again. He winced as he pulled his top up to reveal deep scratches on his stomach. A quick check in the rear view mirror told him that his head was still bleeding and he was starting to feel drowsy again.
Cursing, he pulled his top off, wadded it up and pressed it to the scratches, which were still bleeding. He was going to need to keep the pressure on the wounds and he could only hope that he wouldn’t be stopped by the police. Explaining his injuries to them -to anyone right now - wouldn’t be easy.
This wouldn’t have happened if he wasn’t alone; if Sam was with him. It would have never come that close. The familiar urge to see his brother washed over him, stronger than ever. All he wanted to do was see Sam frown, to grumble as Sam fixed him up.
Frowning, he wondered whether it was the concussion that was making him…yearn for his brother like this. He twisted the key in the ignition, and turned his music up full blast to try and keep himself awake. He could just imagine what Sam would say if he knew he was driving with a head injury. But Sam wasn’t with him, he was by himself and he had to get to somewhere safer until he felt better.
And then - then he was going back to Sam.
Chapter Four