I was so overwhelmed by the responses to my other story, and by the number of people who asked me to write a sequel. After talking to my beta, and careful deliberation over what should happen, I have decided to write a sequel. Granted it might not go up as fast as the other one did, but I will do my best to put up fast and good updates...
This story will kind of be a cross over with a book by Christine Feehan called, 'Wild Rain,' but you don't need to read it to understand this story, I will explain it enough along the way!
This story is set three months after the first story, and after Sam started getting the headaches from his visions, but his father is still there, and he has been forced to go to therapy to help his self esteem.
The Outstretched Shadow
"Sammy it's time to get up!" Dean's voice sounded from the room adjacent to Sam's. The brothers along with their father had decided rent an apartment until Sam's physical and mental therapy was done. He had, had the cast removed a week earlier, and had been going to the physical therapist's office every other day since. His regular therapist meetings were every Monday and Friday afternoon.
Sam cracked his eyes open, and looked at the alarm clock that sat beside his bed. 6:30 a.m. flashed in red, and Sam groaned. What the hell was his brother thinking waking him up at six thirty in the morning, when he actually had the chance to sleep in. It was Saturday morning, and he had nothing special to do, so he pulled the covers over his head, and tried to go back to sleep.
His mental request wasn't granted though, as he felt the covers being tugged, he grabbed them, and held on for dear life. "Sam!" Dean yelled, his voice stern, and the one moment that it distracted Sam, Dean used to yank the covers off. Sam growled at his brother, and sat up, wincing as he put pressure on his bad wrist. His wrist had a brace on it, but nothing else to protect it, so it was easily hurt.
"What the hell do you want Dean?" Sam growled, his face serious and menacing, as if he could kill his brother with a look.
"Damn, it's your birthday and you're still bitchy. Well Happy Birthday to you anyway." Dean said, smirking at his menacing face that had gone from serious to confused in a matter of seconds.
Birthday? Sam asked himself, and then it dawned on him, if Thursday was the ninth of July, than that made it July eleventh. "Oh, ah thanks." Sam said, his voice low, and it was obvious to Dean that his brother had forgotten his birthday. His humor soon turned to concern..
"Sam you have got to stop this." Dean said, and Sam looked at him, his eyes confused. "You forget everything that used to be important to you, and try to blame yourself for everything that goes wrong in the world." Dean sounded impatient and mad; but his other tones were overcast with one that had to be worry, and it made Sam feel even more guilty than he had before. He had made his brother worry about him for the hundredth time in last three months.
"I'm sorry Dean," Sam said, and when he saw the forlorn look on his brother's face, he decided to try and change the subject. "So what are you gonna do for my birthday?" Sam asked, and saw his brother's face change to one of almost giddiness in a matter of seconds.
"You will just have to wait and see, Sammy boy." Dean said, and with a mischievous grin he disappeared out the door. Sam groaned to himself, and dragged his hand through his hair, almost none of Dean's surprises were good; especially for his health. If his brother's plans kept coming at him the way they always did, Sam wouldn't make it to his twenty fifth birthday.
Sam flung his legs over the edge of the bed, and stretched as he stood. He walked over to the closet, and grabbed a pair of blue sand-blasted jeans, and a dark blue tee-shirt. He put them on and then dragged on his socks, and sneakers. He brushed his hair, and headed to the kitchen.
When Sam got to the kitchen, his father and brother were already sitting there eating breakfast, and reading the paper. Sam grabbed a cup, and poured himself some coffee, and sat down. Dean looked over at him, and pulled something from his pocket. He handed the object to Sam, and then went back to reading the sports page.
Sam looked down at the object in his hand and smiled. Dean had given him a bracelet. It was made of braded twine in three different shades of brown, and in the middle there was a metal plate, that had a symbol on it that he didn't recognize. He looked to Dean for an explanation, and his brother grinned.
"The symbol means serenity, I figured you could use it after the past few months that you've had. It's also a protection charm." Dean said, and Sam smiled as he pulled the twine around his good wrist and tried to tie it, but with his hand and wrist in the brace it was hard. He didn't have to ask, before Dean reached over, and tied it around his wrist, before acting as if he had done nothing, and turned back to reading the sports page.
John just looked at his son, and when he saw Dean tie the bracelet around Sammy's wrist, he smiled to himself. They were still his boys, and they still protected each other, even if they didn't get emotional about it. The last emotional outburst that had happened had been three months ago when Sam had been in the hospital, and at least he was going to therapy now for it.
"Happy Birthday Sam." John said, and Sam smiled as an answer. Sam stood, and went over to counter to get a bagel, but he only made it halfway there when the pain ripped through his mind. He heard the cup shatter as he dropped it, and it smashed on the floor. He gripped his head, and fell to his knees. He heard Dean and his father calling his name, as the images started flashing through his mind.
Sam watched as a man walked in the forest. The man walked to a small shed, and went around the back to split the wood that was piled there. He was on his fifth piece when there was a rustling in the shed. The man went around to the front, and pulled open the door. It wasn't until then, that Sam got a good look at the man's face. He knew the man, but he didn't have enough time to think about that, as a figure hurtled out the door, and at the man. The figure was first a man, but as Sam watched, the muscles rippled, and fur rolled over the skin of the man. The black panther slashed at the man's chest, and Sam felt his own chest tighten, and streaks of white hot pain stab through him.
The vision ended, and before Sam blacked out, and slumped into his brother's and father's waiting arms, he muttered one name, "Rio?"
Dean and John looked at each other, before both looked at the unconscious Sam, whose nose was bleeding, leaving a little red puddle on the floor.
So what did you think? Am I evil yet, and how long will it be until you all find out who Rio is, and the man that attacked him?
Review and I will try and answer those questions as fast as I can.