.-.-.-.Monster in the Closet.-.-.-.
Somewhere in Colorado, children from 3 families have gone missing, can the boys find out what's going on before forgotten memories come back to haunt them, more specifically – Dean. Flashbacks gonna happen.
I'm biting my lip now and pouting. Thank you all for reading and thank you for your encouragement and kind reviews. I hope you've enjoyed reading this story as much as I've enjoyed writing it because it's been one heck of a ride for me and a definite new experience playing with wee!chesters.
Well here you go - the final chapter!
PS – If you have Avril Lavigne's 'Keep Holding On', it goes quite well with this chapter, especially about half way down when it's just Sam and Dean. (If you decide to listen to it, it's best to press play when the first flashback starts).
Both brothers just stared at each other, a smile crossing their lips, pleased the other was fine and was alive. The momentary silence was interrupted by Bobby who had grown bored of watching the flames.
"Either one of you wanna tell me what just happened?"
"It's spirit or whatever it is demons leave when they die… it latched onto Charlie's bones. So much for this not being like a salt and burn." Dean smirked, but it didn't last long as he found his world to be spinning.
Sam caught him before he fell and steadied him, half dragging and half walking him towards the exit. "He thinks it's really over this time and I gotta agree. That thing really didn't want us touching those bones."
Bobby watched Dean, his eyes moving towards the blood on his chest, "I think you boys should get out of here. Sam, you need to get him fixed up."
"I'm fine." Dean slurred, trying to blink away the two Bobby's he could see.
"What about clean up? And those kids?" Sam asked. He really did want to get Dean seen to, maybe go to a hospital or something, but he couldn't just leave things the way they were.
"I've been hunting longer than the pair of you. I know how to do clean up, I know how to call the police and I unlike you two, I know how not to get arrested when they arrive."
"The kids…" Dean tried to voice his concern.
"Me and Sam found a couple of bodies and I found a kid called Ricky who's really out of it but he's alive."
"R…Ric.. ky?" Dean coughed gently, eyes lighting up at the name.
"Yeah. I guess he'll be fine but I ain't an expert." Bobby picked up Sam's duffle bag that lay by the doorway and moved across the room to fetch the shot gun. He thrust them towards Sam, "I'll call you when I get done, let you know it went smoothly and you boys just make sure you stay safe and get cleaned up."
"Bobby…" Sam started.
"Get out of here before I kick both your asses!" Bobby growled, though a smile formed across his lips.
Dean's head lolled forward and his eyes snapped open, but they were closing again almost immediately. Sam nodded to Bobby and took the weapons, trying his best to balance them and the semi-conscious Dean.
"And Sam…" Bobby's voice was barely audible, "I know what he's like. Make sure he doesn't go on one of those stupid guilt trips. If he hadn't played the stupid dumbass hero, that kid would be dead and probably more with him."
"I know." Sam smiled.
"Make sure he does too."
Sam nodded again and continued on his exit of the building.
The movements were lost on Dean as he became immersed in the memories of the last time.
He was very much aware of that warm hand on his skin and those comforting fingers running through his hair. A low rumble echoed beside his ear, telling him everything was fine and that he was okay now. He believed every word it said because it was a voice of truth and voice that meant protection. He tried to nod to let the voice know he was listening but he felt numb and still so cold inside.
A higher voice with a squee like quality and an awkwardness about it followed the low rumble. The hands belonging to this voice were smaller and slightly softer, a sign that they had many years of wear yet to come. It pouted with him, telling him to wake up and open his eyes or he wouldn't talk to him for a month. Dean didn't believe it for a second, yet that didn't stop him from trying to open his eyes but they were still so heavy.
Another voice in the background echoed softly, a rough but kind voice. It simply said hello and told him he would be fine before turning its attention to the other voices, telling them that they had to get out of here and get Dean back to the apartment. No touch came with this voice but Dean was happy with the comfort that came from the other two.
He felt safe. He felt like he could drift and sleep and when he woke up, he'd wake up somewhere else, back in his bed with his annoying little brother at his side and his Dad fussing over him in a clumsy manner that suggested he wasn't really all too sure what he was supposed to do, or say.
A gentle rocking motion told him that he was in the car and he forced his eyes open to look over at his brother, "Where we goin'?"
"Hospital." Sam replied simply.
"No." Dean would have shaken his head as well but it hurt too much, "Too many questions, not enough answers."
"Look," Sam explained "You're in pretty bad shape, you look like death and we've gotta get a doctor or at least a nurse to check you out."
"Sammy, they can't do anything. They can't fix what they don't understand." Dean whispered, "I just need to sleep it off and I swear I'll be fine."
"Dean…" Sam was about to argue, his brothers words cutting deep, as if Dean was actually admitting that creature had done more than just physical harm to him.
Sam glanced over at his pale brother and into those hazel green eyes that pleaded with him, begging him. And Sam gave in, nodding gently, "Fine. But if you get worse or you refuse to wake up, I'm taking you to the nearest Doctor."
Dean smiled and leant back in his seat, closing his eyes. "So what now?"
"Now? Now we're getting you to that motel in the next town and I'm cleaning you up."
"What about the stuff in the other room?"
"I'll swing by on our way out and pick it up." Sam sighed, "Dean… you know Bobby says that kid Ricky'll probably make it."
Dean vaguely remembered Bobby saying something like that, the words were kind of fuzzy and mixed up in his memory though, "And the others?"
"I don't know if he'll find any more survivors."
Dean didn't reply. Sam knew exactly what would be going through his mind, it would exactly like Bobby had said. He'd be sending himself on a guilt trip. Dean Winchester, also known as Atlas, the man with the weight of the world on his shoulders. He blamed himself for everything bad and nothing good. It was his nature and all Sam could do was try and ease the burden.
"You know if it hadn't been after you, it would have gone for more kids."
Dean nodded numbly.
"I'm proud of you."
That got his attention and Dean turned his head to look at Sam, "You what?"
"I said I'm proud of you. This thing tortured you when you were younger but you still faced it, so you could save the children it had and the ones it would have taken somewhere along the line. You faced your fears. You always do. And I'm proud of you."
"Oh God…" Dean laughed as they pulled into the parking lot, "Dude, enough. Please."
Sam just smiled in reply and climbed out of the car, neither of them needed to speak to know that Dean had to stay in the car. So he watched Sam gather up their things through the open door and he drifted off into another forgotten memory.
Every was a blur. He'd been fast asleep in his bed and having a darn good dream too when the sound of a gunshot woke him up. Next thing he knew his Dad had come bounding into the room, paused for only a second and then dragged both him and Sammy out into the living area.
Dean had quickly glanced around the room with tired eyes, he thought he saw a flash of grey and he thought he'd heard a creaking but he was probably just tired. And being tired made Dean ratty, especially with the person who had woken him up in the first place.
He could guess what had happened. Sammy, one simple word. Three words and two numbers if you said 'Sammy and his .45'. Sammy had complained the other night about hearing creaks and he swore he saw the closet door open and their Dad, sucker for believing that Sam's 'Closet Monster' was most probably real, had given him a .45 and told him to aim well. And now Sam's supposed 'Closet Monster' had probably crept out of it's closet, gone up to Sammy and said 'Boo' or whatever it is 'Closet Monster's' say and Sammy had fired without hesitation or care that his older brother was fast asleep and enjoying a particularly good dream.
It wasn't that Dean truly doubted Sam, it's just that Sam's new belief had been keeping Dean awake and away from his precious sleep. Maybe that was what this closet monsters plan, to keep Dean away from his sleep. And that, that right there would be pure evil.
And now he was bundled up in the car with Sammy bouncing up and down in the back seat and a few quickly packed clothes and their Dad telling them that they were visiting Pastor Jim because the case he was working was getting pretty dangerous and he didn't want his sons involved. Well, actually what his Dad had said was, 'Pastor Jim called, he said he wanted to see how you both were before you started back at school' but of course Dean knew the truth, well maybe not the whole truth such as how this all conveniently happened after Sammy's shooting incident. But he knew enough.
Sam climbed back into the car, the first thing he noticed was Dean had his eyes closed.
"Dean, you okay?" Sam asked. He wouldn't be Sam if he didn't.
"I'm fine." Dean sighed, but it wasn't a sigh that told Sam to back off. It was a heartfelt sigh that was dealing with guilt and pain. He knew he shouldn't feel guilty, but he did. Deep down inside he felt like he should have been able to save more of them but there was nothing he could do to change that.
Sam turned the key and the car purred into life, gently easing Dean's mind, even though he wasn't the one driving. He hummed gently as Sam drove, tapping his fingers gently against his leg and singing the words inside his head.
"Hush little baby, don't say a word,
And never mind that noise you heard,
It's just the beast under your bed,
In your closet, in your head."
"Dude, are you humming Metallica?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow.
Dean turned his head slightly to look at Sam, a smirk spreading across his face before turning back to staring out the passenger window. Though one thing was for sure…
He still wanted to sleep with the closet door shut.