Ok WARNING for angst, language however no spoilers, just the basic knowledge and warning for LIMP Sam, protective Dean, brotherly banter and maybe a fluff scene, we shall see.
Anyway thank you before you read this for taking the time to read it, and I really hope you enjoy, all feedback is welcome, or if you just want to read it and keep quiet, thank you for reading anyway.
"Why do we always have bad luck? It follows us like a bad smell." Dean said ignoring the piping hot sun's rays burning his back and making his neck muscles ache, hot weather and irritable Winchesters wasn't a good sign.
"I dunno Dean, but if bad smell had anything to do with it, I'm pretty sure bad luck would only follow you." Sam snorted and tugged his shirt forwards, allowing any breeze to cool him, sweat trickling down his back, and sopping a large wet patch on his lower shirt.
"OH so you're a funny boy now huh? Well Sammy, I hate to break it to you, but there's a new smell coming your way." Dean grinned proudly and laughed hard when recognition hit Sam.
"Ew dude, that's disgusting, did you eat road kill or something, jeez!" Sam complained making a scrunched face, and covering his nose and mouth with his sleeveless t shirt.
Dean laughed again, and it truly felt real, like a weight had been lifted and for just once their journey, their lives, and all the problems and risks were forgotten just for a moment. It felt nice. It felt normal.
Great to hear you laugh again bro.
Sam genuinely smiled at Dean who was right by his side.
Riding shotgun, as always, if he's walking in boiling sun heat, side by side, or in the 'pala.
4 hours earlier….
Dean threw another empty cassette tape onto the back seat of his Chevy, sorting out which rock music to play while driving wasn't the best idea but as a Winchester was, stubborn and hard headed, he wanted his favourite tape.
"I know its in here somewhere…..where the hell can a tape run off to….a ha!"
Dean grasped the plastic within his worn hands, he could feel the sense of home drifting through his fingers, their only sense of familiarity, their car, the music, each other.
Driving one handed on an empty desert highway was not the best choice, but hey, not like he could crash into another car. So Dean figured his baby was safe.
Removing the acrylic case and holding out the tape turned to be more difficult than thought, both hands struggled to keep on the wheel and in a split second of whether to push play or volume first, the impala jolted to the side not having its usually focused driver, and veered off track towards the open desert sands, Dean grabbed the wheel as soon as the jolt hit him, and snatched a cry of surprise form the sleeping passenger as forehead met window in a clonk of pain.
Too late to turn without ruining the tires Dean lifted his foot off the accelerator slowing the car and slamming on the breaks too late, the car dipped toward custard dirt and hit the ground with such force, an audible 'pop' was heard as the front of the car tilted forwards.
"DANM! The friggin rims are shredded not to mention the tyres!" Dean seethed as he realized he had no spares, and his baby took a permanent swan dive.
"What happened?" Sam asked calmly and softly as he fully awoke from the restless sleep.
"Wasn't paying attention, car jerked…sorry man, you ok?" Dean said, his anger deflating as soon as Sam spoke.
"Oh….I'm fine, thanks, just bumped my head….anyway…..what were you doing?" Sam said after a moment, puzzled.
"Well I was looking for my AC DC tape, finally found it but you can't drive and organise music at the same time, I've learnt my lesson.." Dean mumbled the last part at Sam's bemused expression.
"Why didn't you wake me, I would have done it for you, just had to ask Dean..." Sam negotiated.
"Sam you need all the rest you can get, I know about the dreams ok, well nightmares, visions, everything! Ok I know, for just once why can't we have some good luck, you get a good nights sleep and chill and I don't end up crashing the car!" Dean sighed, ran a hand over his face and stepped out of the sleek black metallicar.
Sam followed when he heard Dean's curses and angry threats and felt the trunk slam as Dean's check confirmed no spares, his babies tyres were ripped and the rims totalled. Dean started fillin his duffel with the essentials, a few types of guns, knives, map, phones and Dean's car keys, they set off on the long trek into the next town, 15 miles away with only the long open road in front of them, rivers of heat waves, and a dead car behind, Great. This kinda thing hardly ever happened, and neither were happy to walk in the heat.
After several miles of smal chit chat and silence, the sun did start to slow them down, duffel now hanging in Dean's hand, Sam's jacket tied around his waist.
Sam gave a long sigh and breathed deeply, his voice hitching as he spoke slightly.
"So we hit a town, tow?" Sam asked swallowing the dryness and helping his sore throat.
Man what I would give for an ice cold coke right now…
"Yeah most likely, stay in a motel, I got some money. Hey are you ok?, you seem a little dazy…maybe, I'm just saying…" Dean trailed off. His body close to Sam's and always in his line of sight.
"Yeah I'm fine, just tired, s'hot too." Sam complained.
"Its only been maybe a couple hours or so, you sure your okay? We could rest up for a bit if you'd like?" Dean said taking an unknown worry to the situation.
"I said I was fine, just tired, it's too hot out I'm cooking." Sam said giving a nervous laugh.
"Yeah, I'm kinda' melting here too."
"Do you have a drink Dean?" Sam suddenly stopped and asked, his face had taken a fine sheen of sweat and slightly paler now Dean noticed.
"No, sorry Sammy we didn't have anything in the car, why you dizzy or something?" Dean said hurriedly, a thousand possibilities running through his mind. "Do you feel ill?" Cos that would freakin' be great timing.
"NO! ok stop asking I just…..I….I don't feel so good.." Sam mumbled.
"So you are ill, Sammy-"
"Dean, no I'm not ill, yeah maybe dizzy, but its like 90 degrees out here and we're walking what 20 miles, just the heat man..." Sam explained, sure he wasn't feeling too good but he could cope, maybe…..or not.
"Ok, then let's pick up the pace and get to the town before night, clean up, cool off, fix the car and be on our merry way." Dean debated, the worried tone still evident in his voice.
Sam sighed and walked in front of his brother.
Half and hour later…
Dean was walking, more like leaning on each leg slowly, his shirt sleeves rolled up, and their bags dragging behind him, scathing the floor and leaving a trail in the sand stained road.
Sweat had mostly cooled his face but the eldest Winchester could still fee the sun burning a hole in his back with its heated stare, as he stopped and stood panting, finished his whistle song and humming long before.
Now he stood cautiously watching Sam, he was swaying, panting and now at the back of his shirt was soaking in damp sweat.
"Sammy…." Dean breathed, and then inhaled deeply, savouring fresh cool air.
When Sam didn't respond Dean moved further forward, faster to catch up with Sam, something was up.
"Hey Sammy…..you ok?" Dean said edging his way closer to Sam as a faint muttering was heard.
"Gotta keep going…too tired to stop." Sam gasped, then stumbled further.
Dean braced his shoulders, stopping Sam, whose unfocused eyes scanned Dean. The heat radiating off him and the wetness in Sam's clothes, Dean pulled back shocked.
"Sammy you're losing way too much water, you'll dehydrate, c'mon stay with me here." Dean dropped his pack, rummaging.
"Dean I…I" Sam slurred and fell into Dean's arms.
"SAM!" Dean yelled, Sam jerked his head up, half shut eyes threatening to close.
"Got headache…..ah….." Sam clenched his eyes shut in pain.
"Sammy?...Sammy…..shit." Dean held tight to Sam, frowning in worry as he felt Sam tense in his arms, and heard his wet breathing.
Before Sam had time to respond, blinding pain rushed through him, flashes of light and alters of reality later…he was pulled into a vision.
Dean held on tight and slowly lowered Sam to the floor, Sam winced as pain hit full force, grunted and moaned, hissing out curses, and more pain reloaded.
Holding Sam to him, sheltering him slightly from the sun, Dean continued feeling around in his duffel and pulled out the blessed flask.
Dean dumped the holy water on Sam's face, tried to ease the pained lines around Sam's eyes and cool him.
Dean glanced at the sky as if wanting an answer before returning to Sam.
This was so not cool. Why the bad karma!?
"Aw why the friggin hell now? I think the 'higher power' enjoys messing with us Sammy." Dean sighed, raising a hand to his face and rubbing his tired eyes. He knew Sam was having a vision but he couldn't do anything to stop it.
Over the lone stretch of highway Dean could catch the odd glimmer in the sleekness and shimmer of the impala from his seated position and noticed no other cars even on the highway, which alone stretched pretty damn far. None had passed them either... not weird at all.
After a couple minutes Dean could feel a slight tremble under his touch, his hands resting over Sam's chest, his normally steady rise and fall of breaths erratic and laboured. Sam began to shiver, his eyes darting back and forth under closed lids.
"What the hell?" Dean mumbled to himself as he held a gentle yet firm hold on Sam's shoulder.
Suddenly Sam's eyes snapped open and weary bloodshot orbs stared at Dean in shock.
"Dean…..we…it's..bad." Sam gasped trying to sit up way too fast for Dean's liking.
He was still kneading his temple as he tried and failed to stand, still easing the pain.
"Whoa WHOA! Sam, just breathe a minute, calm down ok." Dean said steadying Sam's off balance body to sit.
"What do you mean bad Sam?, just...breathe, sit, talk..." Dean reasoned and help to coax Sam out of his slightly freaked state.
"Well….erm.." Sam took a deep breath. "The job were heading to"-
"Wait, what job?, we didn't have one lined up." Dean asked.
"We do now." Sam rasped. "it's not far from here, I think the next town maybe, but it looked like around here, desert and stuff….it's a farmhouse, there's a guy mid fifties. He goes in see's something and, gives this weird look, like he's seen it before but he shouldn't now…" Sam said with a confused look.
"You're rambling dude, what like if he saw his dead wife or something?" Dean said, finally letting go of Sam, but not wanting to lose the contact he shifted closer.
"Yeah, but….like a really shocked expression, I dunno why it feels different but maybe guilty too." Sam concluded shaking his head, so not a good idea as the pain returned. "Ah…so what are you thinking?" Sam said hiding the wince.
"Guilty? Why would the guy feel guilty if his wife decided to pop it, you thinking murder-kinda guilty or we had a fight and I didn't say sorry before you jumped ship, kinda guilty?" Dean said, grinning at his original phrases.
Sam smiled, although it never reached his eyes. "Yeah, I think so, but that's not it..." Sam gazed at Dean.
"Go on then….drama much." Dean smiled. If Sam was thinking
"Well then he started saying 'sorry, I did what I had to' then…." Sam remembered the perfectly clear part of his vision, the part most disturbing.
The man had just put down a bucket of milk into the farmhouse, all his tools of trade behind him. A flash of the farmhouse stood out over a plain desert backdrop.
A sound caught the man's ear, he spun quickly, his face paled, eyes wide, as he began stepping backwards frantically, utter guilt, confusion and terror evident in his eyes.
He kicked the bucket of milk over as he stood backwards muttering.
"Sorry, I'm so so sorry, I only did what I had to..." the man started to yell the words over and over, when his eyes grew too large, an audible shriek screamed out, as wind started to spread, dust blast away, all the hay and straw disperse and the farmhouse wall shook, the tools along with it.
Pitchforks, blades, knives, spears, cattle prods, machetes , and numerous chained equipment fell at a dead aim for the startled man, they hit their target with such force, blood spurted everywhere, collapsing mess of body parts hittng the floor with sick slaps.
Blood pooled around his wide staring body and a flash of shadow exited the corner of Sam's vision.
Sam thought back to the bloody scene. "Whatever happened to why the spirit or whatever, it sure held a grudge, a lot of anger that's for sure." Sam sighed.
"So what happened to farmer guy, he not live to tell the tale I guess..." Dean said treading lightly, Sam always blamed himself if they couldn't get there in time, how was this situation any different.
"Yeah, pitch forked him to death; there was a lot of blood. It just got angry but I'm pretty sure it's a spirit, wind started to flare up and the barn shook, maybe a poltergeist with the way it could control the tools so...accurately" Sam suggested, Rubbing his head.
"Well if it's not so far, what do you say we head into town, relax a bit, call a tow and then check it out…I don't mean to sound negative Sam but he's probably dead by now….we need a rest man." Dean said wincing as a flash of guilt filled Sam's features.
"Yeah ok, if I can make it back, its way too hot. Are we sitting on a barbecue here?" Sam smiled through the heat.
"Ha! Well I get dibs on the steak, mmmm…..I can just taste it, with a nice cold beer, the perfect night…well without sex." Dean grinned his signature smile.
"Dean….I so don't wanna know about your sex life, shut up you freak!" Sam said turning red from embarrassment, although the high temperatures didn't help.
"Oh freak, well Sammy coming from you, that's a compliment." Dean teased and helped Sam to shaky legs.
"We better start moving, it's still early and I don't want more heat..." Sam whined, Dean nodded and they trudged along, Dean handed Sam the flash and kept close by.
A bloody mess hit the floor with a thud, as numerous farming tools and equipment protruded from the motionless broken body.
The poltergeist's form moved as a shadowy misted blur and passed over the dead man from Sam's vision.
"More will come….you will pay…." It's eerily static voice echoed through the barn, the already run down windows grew frost and cracked when the severe low temperatures touched them.
"Sammy, did you say the guy saw something, as in see, or sense something?" Dean suddenly quipped as his own thought began to wonder.
"Erm…..yeah, he was looking right at something, but what else appears like a spirit, but can control objects like a poltergeist….it doesn't make any sense." Sam blurted even more confused.
"When does it ever. Still did you see it, a shadow, shape, anything?…" Dean said staring at the next town sign a few meters from where they walked. And smiled with relief.
Few more miles, Sammy should hold it…
"Yeah, I think the last thing I saw was kind of misty black outline, shape I guess, but that makes no sense what so ever, man I feel like I'm losing my mind sometimes..." Sam confessed shyly.
"You can't let the job get to you, have a drink once in a while, get out more…..maybe a lil nukkie..." Dean said through a fit of laughs from the look on Sam's face.
"No dude, I mean the things we hunt, we know more about them than most people and they're still a mystery, it just bugs me that it's always a challenge..."
"No pain no gain my friend, and we know about the pain…" Dean said unconsciously rubbing his ribs from the last month a pretty nasty black dog had got the jump on him.
Dean walked in front and took a liking to the rural area, a small town , not very populated and it still had its open space and natural parts.
A local forest surrounded the east side behind some old school houses, and a lake could be seen at the far end of the town reflecting back.
"Reminds me of the old western movies..." Dean thought aloud.
"You're not going into the bar guns blazing Dean, you're not Billy the kid." Sam grunted and motioned to a mechanic's store on his right.
"Well what do you know, we could be done here in no time." smiled Dean heading under the rusted garage door where a largish man with slicked back hair and oil on his face appeared from under a Toyota.
"Can I help you fellas'?" his thick Texan accent asked.
"Sure, we bumped off the road a few miles back, need a tow, it's the black chevy and we gotta get heading out soon, so whenever you got time thanks." Dean said pulling out his wad of cash and flaunting it purposefully in the old mechanics greased face.
"Sure, I'll be free in 2 minutes, gotta plug the oil gage, we don't get a lot of work out here, I'll get the truck ready." The mechanic said, his voice deep and throaty with a toothy smile.
"Aw that's awesome...thanks" Dean nodded. "This should cover the damage." He handed over a wad of bills.
"My pleasure, there's an inn, just across the street, motel place. You could stay there and I'll let you know when the car's done, just the tyres gone?" the mechanic who's name badge read 'Paul' said.
"Yeah we will thanks, and just the tyres yeah. Bout 15 miles down the road." Dean shook Paul's hand and left the garage.
After checking into the 'Greenside Inn motel and café' the boys had a lunch, beds picked and were clean and showered, now for much needed rest under Dean's instructions.
"Dean go to sleep if you want man, I'm gonna research that farmhouse, check the local paper, find out...what this thing is." Sam said booting up his laptop.
"Nah, I'm fine, it's you that needs the rest dude, you haven't slept in awhile and with the vision today, they do add up and take a toll on you ya know..." Dean said, suddenly feeling like the 'father'.
"Who died and made you dad?" Sam blurted and instantly regretted that sentence, it still hurt to talk about John, Sam cursed inwardly and did his best to smile sorely.
"What crawled up your ass and bit you grouchy?" Dean said understanding, when a flash of black caught his eye from the window, and the tow truck revealed the perfect glinting classic car behind, as the mechanic waved him over.
"Sammy, car's here." Dean said tapping Sam and waiting for him to follow as Dean was reunited with his baby.
"Hey boys, just about to fix the tyres, a 10 minute job, gimmie 5 and you can be on your way…..mighty fine car I must say." Paul smiled with his tobacco stained teeth.
"Yeah, thanks for everything dude. Really helped us out. I owe you anything?"
"There's not many a time I get the honour to be with a car like this, it's just…"
"Perfect." Dean and Paul said in unison staring dreamingly at the impala.
Sam stood by and watched suppressing the chuckle that tried to escape.
"Ok….caring sharing moment over, Dean we got business to take care of and…very nice to meet you sir. Thank you." Sam shook Paul's hand.
Paul got to work on the Chevy while Dean and Sam stood outside the garage, gazing at the open view and the vast open desert they could see behind the houses and stores, and the farmhouse, and…farmhouse.
"Dean, that's the house from my…ahem." Sam fake coughed, relying the point.
Dean glanced over and sure enough just where the forest started, behind you could just see the corner of the farmhouse and the barned areas.
"Guess we know where to head then, nice eye Sam." Dean said smacking Sam on the arm lightly.
"Not if it's already happened, it's not the best scene to see." Sam winced at the gory image, the man's wide open eyes staring accusingly, with a blood trickle out of his mouth.
"We need to check it out, see what were dealing with. And c'mon we have dealt with gorier stuff." Dean reasoned raising his eyebrows.
A few minutes later had the boys in their car, cruising up to the farmhouse.
If only they knew they would soon face a whole new kind of supernatural.
The rumble of the impala's engine cut short as it pulled up outside the 18th century farmhouse and occupying barn, and stables.
"So this is it huh?" Dean asked as he stretched his legs and closed the driver side door, the audible creaky whine an essential to his classic car.
Sam did the same and stood in front of the car with his brother admiring the view, and it did look pretty nice, the wide open space, it's history and the old style buildings, except for the blood thirsty ghoul and its killing spree, ofcourse, this place was nice.
"Yeah…." Sam sighed, a little too edgy and nervous than he'd like for a simple look out.
"You ok? Seem kinda uneasy." Dean said side glancing at his baby brother, nothing but worry evident in his eyes.
"I've got this feeling….I dunno what it is, just…..a bad feeling." Sam admitted.
Déjà vu flashed in Dean's head warning signals as he remembered back at the highway with Sam's vision.
"What the hell?" Dean mumbled to himself as he held a gentle yet firm hold on Sam's shoulder.
Suddenly Sam's eyes snapped open and weary bloodshot orbs stared at Dean.
"Dean…..we…it's...bad" Sam gasped trying to sit up way too fast for Dean's liking.
"We could leave it, do the research first. Find out what were dealing with…even call in a favour and get some other hunters on this." Dean suggested.
"Nah man, we may as well, I mean we're here now, might as well check it out, c'mon Dean." Sam trudged forward leading the way as if he's been at this farm his entire life, a secret knowledge of where everything was.
"Ok whatever." Dean caught up to Sam and followed him to the barn.
At first Dean thought the vision hadn't happened yet, as all was quiet and nothing seemed undisturbed. But when the stench hit him and Sam stood back abruptly after opening the barn doors, he knew they were too late.
Sam turned and moved away from Dean going to stand outside and leant up against the barn wall, pale and laboured breaths.
Dean made sure he was ok before stepping into the crime scene, picking out his EMF detector and checking around the bloody mess for any signs of supernatural behaviour.
The scent was unbearable and Dean had an odd feeling this hadn't just happened a few hours ago, it smelt like days had passed, no doubt the heat didn't help. It wasn't just the smell tho, blood and what he could only describe as previous limbs and parts of them were everywhere.
Surely enough over the dead man and all the implements jutting out of him, the whirring shriek of the EMF went crazy. After checking all areas of the barn, the equipment, or what was left of it after impaling the farmer, the stable area, but just as he was about to leave and check on Sam, Dean noticed an old chest, pretty dusty in the far corner of the barn.
He walked over, noticed it was locked, what a surprise? Kicked the rusty lock, which gave way easily and lifted the stiff lid. What he saw honestly shocked him. There was book after book on demons and poltergeists, spirits and how to kill them, exorcisms and all the herbs you'd need for a summoning ritual. Also crossroad dirt, other arts and inns, sacrificial knives, salt and gasoline.
"What the fuck?" Dean whispered. This was definitely not a normal gig.
After gathering some books and one of the herb selections Dean walked out toward his brother, who didn't look so good.
"Your bad feeling was right Sammy, this is no normal gig, man the stuff I found in there. Check this …"Dean handed Sam the book and herb bag "All kinds of our stuff in there, a big old style chest, padlocked. Whatever the farmer was doing he wanted to keep it hidden..."
"Why would a usual farmer need to know about spirits, you think maybe he had to get rid of one, that would explain my vision…" Sam thought aloud. "Maybe he was a hunter or something?"
"Well then he started saying 'sorry, I did what I had to' then…."
"Possibly, maybe he had a few hauntings needed a cleansing, but then why is this thing back, if he did the ritual it should be gone. It doesn't look like he wasn't prepared."
"No, not necessarily if he's just a regular person, he wouldn't have a clue how to properly expel the spirit, it could come back and it would be pissed as hell. If he even got the wrong timing, mispronounced a word, that's all it would take." Sam concluded.
"Ok, so we look into the history of the house, the barn, any haunts, we check family of the guy, see what's impaling people." Dean added up and began to walk back to the car.
"You think he had a family?" Sam suddenly said, his face had paled, and looked so much like the 4 year old Dean remembered, the innocence and too young eyes so clear on Sam.
"No, I think he lived here alone by the looks, but we'll check the house." Dean said, and he knew Sam would blame himself for this guys death too, why couldn't the damn visions let up, why did Sam who took everything to heart and felt so strongly have to witness the worst, it wasn't fair.
Karma really fucking sucked. They were owed at least an island by now with the things they'd had to see and do.
After a quick sweep of the other buildings, which confirmed a ' Stevenson' had lived on the barn alone for over thirty five years. No first name, no family pictures, not much to go on really.
Back at the motel, Dean washed up while Sam continued the research.
A steam cloud later, and fresher Dean all shaved and perfect hair, Sam had found some hits.
"There's a few rumours about the barn, some say it's cursed, but that's mostly local gossip, others have said it's where a 'mad man' lived, so supposedly saying our farmer friend was insane. But a news story stood out to me, erm… three years ago, Dearly loved wife Stevenson recently passed away in the old family barn, in a brutal accidental death, police had no leads, never investigated, husband not suspected…" Sam read and summed up from the news article.
"So was it a freak accident like today?" Dean asked, trying to avoid remembering the scene.
"Yeah, she fell from a haystack and impaled herself on a metal rod, from a fence pole or something; you think it's her spirit now?" Sam rubbed a hand through his long tangled hair.
"Could be, but that wouldn't explain the chest, or your vision, why he was sorry or why she's out for revenge, wasn't exactly our farmers fault she fell." Dean argued.
"But it's not making any sense…..wait a minute." Sam read further down on the news article "They have a daughter, Melanie, lives not too far from here, we could speak to her?" Sam said already grabbing the car keys.
"Ok, there's nothing else to do around here…..whoa what about the body, we can't exactly turn up 'oh by the way your dad's dead and we have reason to believe he killed your mother' c'mon dude, and what about the guy, police will blame us..." Dean said, thinking ahead for once.
"We'll do an anonymous call in." Sam concluded.
"Ok, what's her address?" Dean grinned. And is she hot!?
Melanie's house… 30 miles from the barn….
There was a knock at the door, Melanie stood and went to open the door, veranda creaking as she made her way out.
"Yes gentlemen can I help you?" Melanie asked in the cutest voice Dean had ever heard. Well ok not as cute as the lap dancer in Wyoming but still pretty cute.
"Melanie Stevenson?" Sam asked and after a nod from Melanie continued. "I'm agent Berwick and this is agent Idiot, may we ask you a few questions on your late mother?" Sam asked, sincere and professional, Dean had never managed to understand how he could do that.
Dean shot his brother a killer glare, and followed the offered open door, and his brother who he was so going to kill later, inside the house.
"Dude, it's Idene, not Idiot. Say it right or don't say it at all. "Dean loudly whispered, punching Sam on the arm after Melanie disappeared behind the hallway corner.
"No you're an idiot! Drooling all over her porch like that, man I should have slapped you round the back of your head you moron!" Sam seethed and pushed past a furious older brother.
"Well what do you want to know?" Melanie asked after they were seated and tea's at the ready.
"When your mother passed, afterwards did you notice any strange events, maybe electrical shortages, flickering lights, or cold spots, anything out of the ordinary?" Sam asked. He was sure Melanie paled on that comment.
"Erm…no officer, sorry agent why do you ask?" Melanie stuttered.
"Did your father have any problems after her death?, speaking off record here. We've been given this case due to new evidence, we just have to cover all the bases." Dean spoke up.
"Off record, so you won't think I'm crazy." Melanie shyly answered, after Dean nodded. "My dad said he saw my mom everywhere, like around the barn where she died and things started to happen. The cattle would suddenly die, heart attacks and such, things were always moved and sometimes we got injured. I remember once my dad cleaning out the barn and I heard him scream, I ran out to see him and…..and" Melanie broke down in tears. "I saw this...this thing stood over him, a knife in its hands, I screamed and it disappeared, but he always said mom came back and did all that stuff, but I swear it wasn't her." Melanie cried. "She loved us so much."
"So you saw a figure, a spirit maybe over your dad, but it didn't look like your mom?" Dean summed up.
"No way was that thing my mom! It didn't look like her at all."
"Could you be able to tell us if your father had anything to do with erm…spirits, ghosts that kind of thing, was he interested in any odd books, practice magic, or if your barn was haunted:-"
"Now you mention it, after my mom died we always felt the barn was haunted, it got cold on the hottest days in certain parts and before my mom passed, it was fine we had it refurbished and everything restored, it wasn't until after things started to happen." Melanie explained. "The farm used to do so well, I had to move away after it started to fall apart, help my dad pay for the house."
The brothers exchanged knowing glances.
"What about your dad, did he try to expel or get rid of your mother's spirit like he said he saw, did he ever find someone to sort the problem?" Dean asked as they stood up.
"No, but he changed, got a temper and got really secretive. I haven't seen him in a long time." Melanie sighed.
"Thank you very much for your time Miss Stevenson, good day." Sam said shaking her hand and leaving the two story country house Melanie owned.
"So, pretty sure it's an angry spirit, probably disturbed it when they did the refurbishments in the barn and the mother got in the way, dad became obsessed got into the books and tried to get rid of it himself. That would explain the situation and your vision Haley Joel." Dean grinned.
"Yeah but it's still just a guess, we don't know for sure what happened." Sam argued opening the passenger door.
"We don't need to know, we have the problem and a solution, angry ghosty goes bye-bye and our job's over, quit worrying dude!" Dean said turning the key in the ignition and the familiar roar of home echoed along the highway back to their motel.
"That still doesn't explain who the vengeful spirit is, or how they died. We need to know where they're buried or what's tying them here to get rid of it." Sam rasped.
Man I do not feel good.
Dean side glanced at his brother worriedly, he didn't sound too good and he didn't look 100.
"Ok so when we get back to the motel, I'm ordering in man, starved!" Dean boasted slicing the silence.
"Sure….whatever." Sam panted. Even with the windows down, the heat was stifling him.
"Well we could eat a dead shoe, couple greasy pork sandwiches in a dirty ash tray." Dean grinned as Sam paled.
"Don't Dean, not right now…ok?" Sam breathed. All he wanted to do was sleep for a month and get rid of whatever was making him feel so deflated.
"Why what's up?..you still queasy from the road?" Dean said, mock and humour gone in a flash.
"I don't know, I'm hot, so damn tired…I feel like I'm gonna throw up and my head just doesn't fit right now. It's dizzy and confusing…" Sam leaned further out of the open windows, trying to bring some relief to his fatigue.
"Sammy?" Dean fearfully asked.
"Another headache...b'fine." Sam slurred and rested on the door, eyes closing.
Dean slowed the car and pulled off in a byway, Sam's form shook as the engine died, but he didn't move.
"Sammy…?" Dean repeated, yep he was SURE something was up with Sam.
Reaching out a shaky hand Dean pulled Sam's shoulder back, Sam slumped in the seat and was turned to face Dean, he was even paler, dark rings under his eyes and a slow trickle of blood pooling from his nose.
"Shit...SAM!" Dean yelled, he shook hard on Sam's shoulders, trying to rouse him to no avail.
"Sammy! You wake up right now!" Dean screamed.
A low grunt was heard, then a twitch of fingers, hazel orbs met worried green glassy ones and Sam stirred.
"Man you ok? Your nose is bleeding Sam." Dean asked in a rush, deeply exhaling the stress.
"No…something's up, can…we…motel please." Sam begged, and It broke Dean's heart to hear that broken plea come from Sam.
Dean shifted gear and roared back onto the highway to their motel, and with Dean driving the half hour trip would be halved and quartered.
"Hang on Sammy, we'll make it soon…" Dean whispered and stomped on the accelerator further than he already was.
Sam slurred from unconsciousness and reality, mumbling incoherent words and tossing a little. At first Dean thought it was with the heat making Sam ill, but on second glances it looked more like a vision.
"Ah…argh…." Sam took a quick intake of air and tried to ride through the pain.
"Sammy…is it another vision?" Dean asked, at least then Sam wouldn't be ill, but still the visions were a weakness for Dean. Something only Sam could feel and see, and what Dean could never hunt down or kill.
Dean watched Sam tightly pinch his nose and control his deep laboured breathing. Yep definitely a vision then…
A few ran red signs later and angry flaring stop and crunch of gravel under the tyres, the impala skidded to a stop, the driver panicky, the passenger out cold.
"Sammy…help me out here…" Dean mumbled as he half carried half dragged the youngest Winchester to their motel room.
After carefully loading Sam on his bed Dean took a minute to breathe for the first time today, he ran a hand through his dishevelled hair and sighed deeply. This day was not on his favourites list.
The trickle of blood from Sam's nose had left a dried crimson stain, and had dripped onto his clothes. More clothes ruined…blood's a pain to get out.
Running to the bathroom and wetting a cloth Dean wiped the dried blood away and tried to cool Sam's pale sweating form.
Two hazel slits blinked at him. Thank god. "Hey pal…you had me worried for awhile." Dean grinned, just so honestly happy to see Sam ok, he hadn't been fine since they'd reached the friggin town.
"De…Dean…I know…what we..." Sam swallowed the rising bile. "What we have…to do..."
"Don't worry about the case man, rest for a bit." Dean coaxed.
"No. the spirit…how she died..." Sam finally said.
"But aren't visions of the future, how could you see the spirit die, this some new power of yours physic wonder?" Dean teased smiling, hand gripping Sam's arm gently.
"No, I'm connected…to the spirit I think…at the farm I felt something, now I've seen her death. She wants revenge Dean, we need to finish this. Now." Sam said panting through the pain.
"Ok then, how did she pop it?" Dean asked intrigued.
"Original farmer killed her for trespassing on his land, then buried her in the corner of the barn…pretty gruesome guy." Sam pulled a face.
"Nice. " Dean grimaced. Ok that explains everything we didn't know but why are you connected? What makes you think that?" Dean asked, fearing his brother's safety, it could be a trap or something out to get Sam and his shining or whatever.
"Dunno, just a feeling. I think she's showing me what happened for justice, but he's long dead now, it looked like 18th century. Maybe every other farmer pays, I don't know how we're connected but it's like I was with max, I saw in the vision what he did when he killed…feels similar, I can't explain it." Sam tried to make Dean understand but the headache and throbbing pain he still felt just complicated things.
Dean gave a forlorn expression. "OK, not getting that, but a 'feeling' I get, so we know the motive, the reason the ghost is after blood, so we salt 'n' burn it and problem's over?" Dean said feeling proud but the look Sam gave shot his dream down. "What?" Dean said frustrated.
"It can't be that easy, there's something more to it, I know it." Sam wondered aloud.
"Maybe one of Stevenson's ritual exorcisms went wrong or he brought the spirit back or something, if you got mauled by a farmer then one woke you up with a faulty spell work you'd be a little more than pissed." Dean mused.
"Bloodthirsty and on a killing spree is a little harsh though, perhaps it's got a grudge with farmers, or anyone who goes into the barn." Sam said, confusing each other more and more.
"Then were safe!" Dean sarcastically answered swinging his hands in the air.
"I'll do some more research, we need to finish this soon, and call the cops about the body Dean…he deserves to rest. And Melanie should get to say goodbye." Sam said booting up the laptop once again.
"That won't need to be necessary…they got it covered." Dean lifted back the curtains and revealed 2 police cars and a coroner drive through town. "They found him." Dean announced.
"Great our job is a lot harder." Sam sighed." We have to hurry this case…she'll kill whoever goes in there!"
1 hour later
With Sam tapping the laptop keys softly and in his own world, Dean flicked the few TV channels he could find, but found nothing of his nature to watch.
"What have you got then geek boy?" Dean grinned beamishly.
"Not much…hang on." Sam typed a few more things and clicked on the mouse. "Ok, Erm…in 1827 a girl by the name charlotte Hoskins disappeared off old oak farms never found but that's definitely the girl Dean. Look at her picture."
Sam brought up webpage and the 10 year old girl, it was hard to believe that this innocence had become the violent creature from his vision.
"Yikes, shame we have to hunt that bitch down tonight…" Dean said sorrowfully, she was a pretty little thing, and it's a shame her life was cut too short, by a too far gone farmer with an axe.
"She's gonna kill everything, or anyone that gets in her way…it's her way of justice Dean. Remember some spirits only see what they want…" Sam argued.
"No prob, don't sweat. You do some more looking up, find her grave or bones or whatever; tonight we salt 'n' burn the body, check EMF tomorrow and be on our way." Dean boasted.
Sam's anger grew. "It's just too simple Dean! There is more to the story I'm sure, I can feel more going on." Sam admitted.
"Well we'll see more when we get there, cops would have cleaned up, it's a small-town I'm guessing the night watch man is off duty permanently." Dean wanted another hunt over, but was rushing ahead going to be costly for them?
"Fine." Sam huffed and continued the research, he had to find a way to fully explain this hunt, he just knew something bad would happen. It wasn't as simple as it looked.
"Ok Sammy you ready to hunt this thing?" Dean quipped, gathering the supplies and polishing his gun.
"I haven't found anything new…yeah I guess we're going in…blind." Sam silently added. Frustrated he couldn't put his finger on the bad feeling he had.
"C'mon then dude, time's a wastin'." Dean giggled with joy and exited the motel room, leaving Sam and his thoughts, a few moments later the rumble of the impala was heard and Dean's eager shouts for Sam to hurry up.
They drove up the highway and took a dramatic turn on a dirt road to the farmhouse; hopefully it would be easy and sorted soon, and they could leave this oven range.
Pity things never went to plan.
They pulled up at the dusty farm, it was still light out, and for night it was pretty warm across the desert.
"You ready Sammy?" Dean said, Sam seemed to be against this idea and he didn't know if it was just moody Sam, or if he had held some secret gruesome knowledge back.
"Sure, but if this thing turns south, can we just get out of here and head back tomorrow please I really feel like there's more to this case." Sam sighed with Sad pleading eyes.
"Ok." Dean said slowly, feeling like he missed the plot. He then got out of the car, gathered a shot gun filled with rock salt for them both, gasoline and salt to burn the bones with, also a consecrated iron round just in case things went bad, as Sam had insisted they could.
Five minutes later they were prepped and ready to go in, opening the creaky barn door they aimed their flashlights and scoped the area carefully.
Dean went over to the chest he had found the old books and rituals in, and showed Sam some of the ingredients.
"Wow pretty powerful stuff, and if he didn't know how to use it, that's asking for trouble." Sam whispered.
The dramatic drop in temperature got their attention and Dean quickly asked which corner the girl had been buried in. Sam closed his eyes and tried to re-imagine the vision…south corner.
"Over by the hay, hurry it up Dean." Sam insisted, he grabbed a shovel from the near by equipment stand and tossed one to Dean.
"Thanks, you start and I'll keep watch." Dean said, tricking Sam.
"Oh no, you dig first and I'll keep watch, I'm not doing your dirty work!" Sam harshly whispered pointing a finger at Dean.
"Fine, bitch." Dean mocked and began shovelling the soft desert sand.
Sam had an uneasy feeling, slightly more then usual and that was enough to send his hunter skills on high alert and his nerves tingling.
An icy gust of wind ruffled his hair and made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.
"Er…Dean…" Sam shyly whispered.
"What!" Came the muffled reply.
"Could you kinda hurry up down there…things are getting attention up here." Sam spoke normally, a hint of sarcasm to his voice, as he spun in all directions to search for the spirit.
"Why?...what's going on Sam?" Dean said, muffled by the dug hole and surrounding dirt. "I ain't hit bones yet!"
"Erm….think little charlotte's out to play." Sam said shaking from the cold, even though the night air was warm, he'd started to wish he'd put on a thicker jacket.
Dean turned white; he'd left Sam up there with a friggin vengeful spirit. Well done Dean you IDIOT! He listened for any sounds of a struggle, none, so he dug faster. But when the sound of breaking air and a sudden crash followed by Sam's yelp then silence, Dean scrambled out of the hole.
"SAMMY!" Dean screamed, rising to see the damage.
Sam was looking around for signs of the spirit, then all of a sudden a white glowing mist began to form a figure, then take features, now into that once lovely little girl, its features turned cold and malice filled her cold soulless eyes. She lunged forward, ice fingers biting into Sam's skin. Her breath misting in with Sam's, freezing his lungs making breathing painful and slow. Next thing he felt was the air knocked from his struggling lungs and he was flying through the air, it wasn't so bad…that is until his back connected with the solid barn wall and pain ignited his nerves.
He could hear Dean's scream for his name, but couldn't answer as he was again airborne and crashing against the upper level and the wooden fence surrounding the upstairs.
Wooden planks, hay and dust fell from the second floor, and the sickening feeling in Dean's stomach grew dramatically.
Sam awoke to burning pain in his side and a darkening wet patch around his ribs.
Sam heard tapping on the wooden beams growing louder from his face down position and saw a dark figure rushing to his side.
Dean ran up the ladder, across the planked floor to find Sam in a heap on the floor under some debris.
"Shit! SAM!" Dean yelled and bolted over toward him.
"Dean…no way in hell is that a spirit, its…it's too strong." Sam panted. "I was holding iron through it when it threw me."
"Then burning the bones won't do much will it, what the hell could it be?" Dean said, releasing a breath he never knew he was holding.
Dean scooped Sam up, hearing a hiss from his lips, Dean gently held Sam's arm around his neck and hefted Sam's waist to help him balance.
After a slow yet undisturbed journey down the ladder, both boys made it to ground level but it wasn't long before the windows started to frost and the ice breath of the devilish little girl reappeared as a jaggered flickering ghost.
"Dean…get the rock salt." Sam cursed, and side hobbled with Dean backwards to retrieve the salt as the girl approached.
Right before Dean had time to fire the shotgun, she disappeared and all or any knowledge she had been there went with her. "Son of a bitch." Dean breathed. "That's new."
"She'll show again, we have to hurry." Sam winced. His head throbbed, and he could swear his head was bleeding by the wetness on his face.
Dean dropped the gun and focussed on getting out of the barn when a cruel tug tore him away from Sam, who lost balance, he hit the south wall; smashing a window with the force he was thrown and submerging under the hay piles. All was still.
"Shit!" Sam released a pent breath. Misted air filled his vision.
Once again Sam felt like he was flying until, white hot pain and a startled cry was ripped from his throat when he caught the side of a metal crate, his chest took the brunt.
The haystack seemed to flurry, then Dean's handsome, yet now bloody features peeked out under the straw. Dazed and confused from the blow.
"Ah….jeez!" Sam gasped. I'm not a rag doll, didn't you get the memo? Sam clutched his chest and side with a body hug and laid still catching his breath for several moments, but felt rather than saw his back colliding with the old wooden chest Dean had found. A cry was torn from his lips and blood began filling his mouth.
Dean hazily stood and lunged for his shotgun, aimed and shot directly over Sam's head, resulting in a shrieking cry from the spirit and Sam's slumping body.
"So rocksalt hurts you, huh bitch."
Dean ran over to his brother's bloody form. "Sammy…Sam you ok?" Dean worried.
"Took your time." Sam cringed, his voice rasping and sore. He coughed once and noticed the chest knocked over, it's numerous books, ingredients, herbs, rituals and exorcisms notes spread over the floor, one in particular caught his eye.
Sluggishly and wincing, Sam reached and picked up a crumpled sheet of paper, worn and faded it looked used the most due to its state. After a quick read of the ritual and order, Sam realized why this hunt made him on edge.
"Dean…we can't kill this thing as easy as we thought…" At Dean's confused glare Sam continued. "This is a like a pagan exorcism, a two part ritual…one expels the spirit from what it's attached to and releases the ghost's form, but this makes it stronger…then the second part you bind it to send it back to hell or to rest or whatever." Sam pulled a face of horror, this was going to be a bitch to undo.
"So…that doesn't help us now. It's pissed! What do we even bind it to!?" Dean said, wiping the blood running from above his right eye.
"Stevenson probably didn't do the second part…so we have a free roaming, unattached killer vengeful super spirit after us…we need to finish the spell. Salt will only work for awhile. It won't stop her. We might not even need to bind it, if she's distracted enough...we could just end it." Sam sighed. Things just get worse and worse in their life.
"You're telling me, it just gets more powerful after the first part and he left it…just great." Dean shouted. Wind picked up and again the chill returned with a vengeance.
"Probably why it took a stab at him, he tried to kill it, made it half way…if we don't finish this spell, we'll be stabbed or thrown to death." Sam faintly smiled, behind the fiery pain, and throbbing aches they had a job to do…Their lives we're weird.
"Gimme that inscription…" Dean snatched the sheet and prepped up to read the Latin inscription to seal the spirit to rest forever, the spirit however had other plans…
Sam pushed Dean away while the mist started to appear before him. "I'll get her off your back. You need a salt circle to finish that spell."
The girl had already appeared before Sam, hard angry eyes glaring at Dean and the paper in his hands as he started the incantation. Sam took two handfuls of salt and ran through her as she screamed and dissolved.
Only to reappear a split second later on the second floor, sending hay, old barrels and planks of wood toward the youngest Winchester.
As Sam dodged another plank, he threw some salt in a wide arc trying to hit the girl and she again dispersed in another shrill scream.
"Dean hurry up already!" Sam shouted from his current position of not being a human dartboard as random objects always found their way toward him, supernaturally aided. If it wasn't planks it was electrical wires finding their way to his neck, or crazy axe weilding tulpas.
"Hold it off a little longer." Dean only had a few more lines to read.
"Ah…son of a bitch." Sam cursed as a barrel of old decayed wood pieces decided to explode on him.
"Just a minute…I got it."
"No it's got me!" Sam said dodging a brick in his direction.
"Esorcismo contro Satana e gli angeli ribelli." Dean hurried, the wind once again picked up and the air grew icily cold.
"I N nomine Patris, et Filii et Spiritus Sancti. Amen." Deans last breath, as he finished the incantation and glanced around nervously, after the Imploding white light his eyes took a moment to readjust and still he nervously looked around, sure that it would just reappear any second.
"Is it over…" Sam's small voice squeaked under the fallen barn door, he hefted himself off the floor and limped, more like swayed over to Dean.
"I think so…I hope so, man that was one nasty lil bitch!" Dean teased, and felt now for sure they had gotten rid of the ever lasting spirit.
"I'm glad that's over, the sun's nearly up and it feels like I ran into a wall." Sam said in a monotone voice. "Can we go?" Sam was already limping to the half left barn door, cradling his side with a hurt wrist.
"Sure pal, Dean picked up the old chest and dumped the papers and books and left over notes, and noticed an amulet, a greenish style gem set in the middle with silver carvings around the side. He pocketed the jewellery and picked up the last of the chest. It was hard to come by some of the herbs he'd seen in that box and it all came in useful, wasn't like the farmer needed it. He grabbed their gear and glanced around, it looked like a tornado had hit this barn after they had left.
"Sammy, you good?" Dean said, seeing Sam's eyes closed already and leaning on the impala's bonnet.
"Oh man, I need an ice bath…" Sam winced as he touched a sore spot on his head and rubbed his face, feeling the tight dried blood and some fresh wet patches.
"Well you do smell…you'll be sprouting some nasty bruises in the morning kiddo." Dean said, but inwardly cringed at how bad a beating Sam had taken.
"Thanks." Sam snorted and opened the passenger door. "We got any Advil?" Sam said again, his voice getting weaker.
Now that this job was over Dean wanted to hurry up and get a long good look at Sam's injuries not to mention his own.
"You okay to drive?" came a nervous question from the passenger seat.
"Sure, got a hard head you know." Dean shook his head and tapped it to state his point, that wasn't such a good idea either as a headache started up again.
"Yeah, full of wood, or air." Sam laughed and leaned back in his seat, after only a few minutes of speedy driving, Sam was in a dreamless sleep.
Until they reached the motel that was.
"Rise an shine sleeping beauty, I need to check your noggin, can't have you as a coma victim and little brother, how annoying would that be." Dean didn't chuckle as coma's still brought a rash of fear over Dean ever since his. Ever since Dad.
Sam couldn't remember walking into the motel room or laying on his bed but he woke up to the standard motel ceiling and a clear bright blue sky through the shabby curtains.
"You're so not the lightest person in the world, I'm not dragging you up as well man." Dean teased although he was doing flip flops inside, glad that Sam was awake.
"You carried me?" Sam half groaned.
"No shit Sherlock, did you figure that out all by yourself or did I give it away, damn." Dean said in a mock tone and overdramatically cupped his hands around in face in mock horror.
"You patched me up too?" Sam felt around and noticed several bandages and stitches on his shirtless chest. "Thanks." He smiled.
"Yeah, you owe me for that too man." Dean grinned, because he would always be there for Sam and no matter what, do anything for Sammy.
Dean thought back to patching Sam up, some of his wounds…
Dean half carried, half dragged the sleeping, well unconscious form of his baby brother through their hotel room, and placed him on the bed weakly, he was pale and sweaty, so big brother instincts took over. It was better to do this if Sam was out of it.
After removing the sleeveless t shirt Sam was wearing, he could see the extent of the bruises and cuts marring his body.
Especially under his chest to the side, a large expanding bruise and mixes of purple, and blues formed the impassive circle indicating Sam had at least broken a rib but at least his breathing was fine, so no punctured lungs to worry about, and he wasn't bloated or swollen to indicate internal bleeding.
Noticing the dried blood over his body and on Sam's face, Dean wet a rag of clothing and wiped the dried blood away, dampening Sam's chest and then his head, now seeing the large red mark over Sam's temple he understood why the kid had passed out.
"Damn concussions!" Dean cursed but kept on cleaning up the bloody mess.
Under Sam's nose, temple, and jaw line were deep gashes that had finally stopped bleeding but needed to be stitched and when he was turned over to check his back, Dean choked back a sob.
The bruising from Sam's ribs continued to a deep reddish purple on his back, about half way covering, and numerous cuts and abrasions scattered once soft pink flesh.
Some of the cuts were near scrapes and mostly bruises with being flung from wall to wall, but some long scratches were butterfly stitched and his sore ribs bandaged all around.
Next Dean checked his wrist as he had been cradling the said arm and noticed MORE bruises and it set in an odd angle, but thankfully it wasn't broken as Dean expertly flexed the limb and bandaged it in a tight professional wrap.
Now Sam had been put back together, Dean glanced over at him through the remaining hours of pre-dawn darkness before the sun rose.
He could see new bruises forming around Sam's face and a slight swelling of his wrist and cheekbone. He'd be wincing for a while, stupid super spirit! But at least he was okay, this could all be fixed.
Dean, satisfied Sam was resting comfortably, tended to his own battle scars.
Nothing much was wrong with Dean, Sam yet again had taken the brunt of her attack and Dean had escaped with a mild knock to the head and hissing when he felt cuts where the glass window scathed him.
All in all not too bad, he finished stitching the deep cut above his right eye, wincing, and cleaned away their dirty clothes to one of the duffle bags.
He sat in his own bed and laid still for a few moments before exhaustion set in and he fell into a light snooze.
Not 34 and a half minutes later he heard a moan, and woke suddenly to Sam gracing the day with his presence.
"Rise and shine sleeping beauty." Dean laughed.
"Are you okay?" Sam steadily sat up and tried to breath through his tightly wrapped chest. "I look like a mummy. Thanks."
"Well you are a girl…" Dean joked, he picked up their laundry duffle bag and his jacket fell out, a stain of blood on the sleeve.
He bet down to pick up the cloth when the amulet he found fell out of the pocket…
Sam watched in fascination and Dean passed him the object saying "I found it in that old chest. Looks like it might be a good thing to keep in hand. Kept the chest aswell."
"Where, at the barn?" Sam answered groggily, with a hint of accusation.
"Yeah it looked like some kinda pendent, I don't know why I picked it up, the writing on it seems familiar to what that book had in it though. Bobby's always got crap like this around that comes in useful." Dean said vaguely.
"Dean! What the hell did you bring it back for!" Sam shouted hysterically.
"What the hell's wrong man, calm down." Dean said stressfully.
"No Dean, I can't... this pendant, what if it's the link to the spirit's body. The hunt's not done yet." he said with urged importance.
"What so we just destroyed a barn to dust, but just pissed off the damn spirit more, and we cold've just burnt this!?" Dean spat.
"We have to destroy the pendant. What if we just weakened her...?" Sam said suddenly a little too shocked.
"What, I saw the bright light, that normally means ghosty is toasty."Dean blurted grabbing his coat.
"She'll follow the link, if she's attached Dean and if it's here…" the air began to turn to an icy chill that froze the very marrow in their bones.
"Shit." Dean breathed a cloud of white smoke while panic set in.
"Sam try to break it, I'll get the fire ready." Dean yelled whilst running for his duffel.
Sam hastily yet forced had to abruptly stand on shaky feet and try to destroy the gem. Even after 2 boots crashing down on the incredibly strong stone it didn't even crack.
A distant thump had Sam spinning round to find Dean thrown head first into the cheap plaster walls, dust and white plaster debris dusting off him.
"Dean!" Sam called but instantly regretted it as the spirit took it's favourite play toy out for a spin again. Sam felt the familiar yet extremely disturbing feeling of weightlessness then a blinding flash of white and pain exploding on his side.
Sat stunned and gasping Dean stood uneasily and ran for the jewel.
He grabbed his .45 and took dead aim for the centre of the pendant, a loud shot rang out but only chipped the side of the stone jewel, a green light flashed then started to dim from the spirits form, and it's shriek spoke of the misery they caused.
Just piss it off more Dean, way to go! Dean mentally kicked himself, before objects rained down on him, and a quick duck and roll was necessary if he didn't want to be shish kebabbed with scissors.
Sam still lay slumped, his breathing shallow and sweat dripped from his face at the exertion. He wasn't in his full game, not to mention the number she did on him a mere few hours ago, he wasn't up for this yet.
"Sammy torch it!" He heard Dean distantly shout before reality came back with all senses alert, Sam regrettably sat up a bit too fast for his swimming vision and caught the flying duffel with the salt and gasoline.
All he had to do was step forward, just a few more paces to the discarded jewel, soak the trashcan and dump the salt and toss the necklace in, but he barely had the energy to crawl.
Another thump and thus then the crash of a lamp hitting hard ground alerted Sam Dean was still the spirits rag doll, but she wasn't so sweet and innocent in this life as she'd looked in her painting.
But eventually Sam found his hidden and only strength and made his way to the necklace laying abandoned on the floor, once part of a life now the only reason the life isn't at rest, it had to be destroyed. Whatever hold the girl still had on the gem was strong and if he didn't finish this now, they'd surely end up like the farmer and his wife.
Sam doused the trash can and threw in the necklace with the salt with all his strength, but the spirit saw what he was planning to do and shrieked the highest screech that Dean had to cover his ears as he dropped from the invisible hold.
Bright light invaded Sam's vision and everything felt like slow motion, he could see Dean mouthing 'Sam' with a troubled look on his face, but only then did Sam notice the third person, she looked so sweet and calm, just like little girls should. Her light pink almost white dress.
Her heavenly form of a young girl with white light pooled all around her like an insane halo made Sam pause with the lighter.
Her tight ringlet curls hung in two pigtails and bounced as she moved cheerily to Sam, who seemed transfixed in watching her.
Dean couldn't see the same thing as he desperately had widening eyes on Sam and his slumping form, as if watching something he couldn't see. This in truth had more of a fright for Dean then any vision or visible creature they BOTH could see and fight.
Even with the visions, Dean could help him through the situation and comfort him afterwards.
The bright and smiling little girl who stood now right before him didn't even seem to be any relation to the benevolent spirit they were facing. Sam's fight left him and he felt bone achingly tired.
The girl smiled, but only a small dimpled glance, she flickered and only briefly did Sam see her true form through the disguise. Black bone and rotting meat with devilled eyes and deep dark hatred pouring off her. Then he façade took over again, and the fake sweet child smiled warningly at Sam, who now realized the whole illusion and instantly recoiled from reaching distance. Once the spirit knew Sam didn't believe her impressive tricks, she changed from into the black decaying corpse.
Her hatred flung itself at Sam with such force, and all the anger built up over the fear of Sam destroying her existence, twice now caused the adrenaline to ripple and turn to unleashed anger.
With lightning fast reflexes her knife like fingers grabbed Sam's head as he was pushed away, her ghost like hand passed through his head, bringing all the pain and misery she had ever suffered, added to all the anger and envy she had felt.
As soon as the spirit latched on it felt all the warmth and life in Sam, his light emanating from his soul. She suddenly felt alive again and reached further into him, feeling more power.
Even when she disappeared from eyeshot, Sam still felt her bony fingers clutching his brain. He tried to fight the scream but the pain intensified and he felt himself grow weaker, and weaker. Other feelings and emotions swirled in him he was sure wasn't his and he saw and felt the girls death, the emotional attachment to the necklace and why this child had held on and fought for so long.
Dean watched Sam jerk back then grab the side of his head and temples and scream like he was being ripped apart. The raw pain in his voice at that moment broke Dean.
That's when he saw the flickering form of the spirit latched onto Sam who was now slowly crumpling, but the pained cries just as desperate, he could tell Sam was losing energy and he just hoped he could pull through another attack. They'd both had awful luck and timing these last few days.
Dean reached the lighter Sam had hesitantly let go of to hold his head, he brought it down to the trash can so fast fire exploded with a hiss and the spirit let out an unearhtly growl, let go of Sam immediately and burst into a swirl and spiral of green lights and fire.
Dean looked worryingly down at Sam, his hand flopped to his side and a pained expression glanced back, panting heavily Dean helped him stand only to fall backwards as Sam's lets gave out and he collapsed in a heap on the floor. Eyes only just open; he smiled fainty, glancing to the amulet, burning away.
Dean let the fire die down and exstinguished the flames now the threat was well and tuly gone. Noticing Sam leant forward cradling his ribs again and some bruises forming around his face, Dean knelt before his brother. "You got any left over strange feelings?"
Sam shook his head. Too tired to speak.
"You okay Sammy?" Dean grinned, and sat heavily on his own bed, pulling Sam up with him, tonight they both took a beating.
"I don't wanna do that again, anytime soon." Sam whispered, his voice still sore from screaming.
"What the hell did the bitch do to ya anyway?" Dean's interest was peaked, but worry laced his tone as he checked Sam over.
"Illusion of the girl she used to be, when I saw through, I dunno she just came at me, her hands felt like they went through my freaking head. It just hurt so much, then I just felt drained." Sam said, falling sidewards next to Dean and breathing heavy.
"She just wanted to let people know about what happened to her at first, that's why she never killed but...when they refurbished, they found the necklace and that was all she ever cared about. Was her mom's." Sam said sadly.
Dean felt a lump in his throat.
"She just couldn't bear losing it. Why she got so mad when they tried to get rid of her, she just wanted to be close to the only thing she had left."
There was a few moments of sad silence before Dean spoke.
"That's what her kinda spirits do, they latch onto something that means the world and they can't let go of that even in death. It probably made it worse she was killed, for years just watching and waiting, unable to move on, because she was protecting the only thing that was left of her life."
Sam carefully but weakly stood and rolled onto his bed, drifting his eyes shut and inhaling deeply, as Dean laid down and flicked the lamp beside him off, the room went to darkness as exhaustion took over. It didn't matter it was late afternoon. They had not caught a break.
"You have any wounds I gotta' stitch? Cos dude...I did that already." Dean joked.
"I'm fine. Just sore. You?"
They let their bodies aches and pains be known and sank into the semi-soft mattress to finally get some much needed rest.
"Dean?" Sam slurred.
"Huh?" Came the muffled reply of inducing sleep.
"Next time, don't pick up random jewellery that could kill us." Sam joked, and Dean knew by the way Sam smirked at him he was joking.
"Only if you don't redecorate the walls by freefalling." Dean grinned back. "I won't get back my room money for Sammy sized holes."
"Deal. Though you did make a few holes too."
And then there was rymthmitic breathing as they finally caught a break and relief for a hunt finally over.
This was one of my first ever fics when I was 14, I never really liked it, tried to polish it off like with all my other fics but I'm happy to let it stay here, it's a nice starting point to when I entered the world of fanfiction.
Hope you enjoyed, past the awkward first fic writing.
Thank you for your time. x