Still don't own Supernatural. Not suing would be appreciated.
Anyway, thanks for the reviews.
A rope was coiled nearby, one end frayed.
"Come on, Sammy. Don't do this to me."
Sam was sprawled across the damp wood floor, eyes closed, limp, not breathing. Dean ran to his brother's side and tried to keep his panic under control as he heard his own blood thump in his ears. The bruises on Sam were already starting to appear, blood was thick and coagulated from his nose and a gash across his forehead. Dean checked for a pulse with shaking hands. Nothing but still blood in veins.
Desperately he started chest compressions. "Get your ass up, Sammy." Nothing changed. "Fuck. Sammy, please."
Dean started the third round of alternating compressions and breaths. He felt a rib crack, but couldn't make himself stop.
"Sammy." His voice broke as a tear escaped his efforts to keep them back and traced a way down his cheek. "Please."
Two Hours Earlier.
Dean slammed the trunk closed and tucked the pistol into the waistband of his jeans. Sam was checking that his own gun was loaded and working. Dean turned to the abandoned school and thought that even without the overcast sky, that damn place still would have looked straight out of a horror flick.
Sam turned to him. "Yeah."
A drop of rain fell and hit the impala. The two walked up to the doors and forced one open. The air was damp and musty. The beams of light from their flashlights caught the dust as it swirled through the air. The rain picked up outside and dripped somewhere in the darkness.
"Most of the victims were found on the third floor." Sam kept his voice low.
"How's your head?"
"Fine." Sam automatically replied.
He lied. The headache from the night before still pounded at his temple, not as much as before, but enough to notice that the three ibuprofens didn't do anything.
"We can do this tomorrow, if you want."
Sam turned his light on his brother. "Dean, seventeen people have been killed here in the last month. Somehow this place lures people in, not all of them were teenagers here on a dare."
"I know, but if you're not top form-"
"I'm fine. All we got to do is find this spirit and recite a few rites."
Dean met his brother's eyes in the dark and saw the angry determination that burned there. "What aren't you telling me?"
"Nothing, let's go." Sam led the way down the hall.
Dean grabbed Sam's arm. "Sam."
"I knew one of the victims, okay?" His voice was even, calm. "I told his mother that I'd get whoever got her son."
Dean tried to remember the list of names to see if any stuck out. His breath caught for a moment. Jeremy Moore, Jess's brother. Dean knew why Sam had to get this thing, he knew why his kid brother had to tell Jess's mother that at least one of her children's murders was resolved. Sam's shoulders were squared and his hand steady, the light didn't waver an inch. He was in full hunt mode, determined and dead set on getting this thing.
They moved silently through the dark halls. Water pooled in a few places, marking places where the roof had failed after all the years. Something shimmered at the end of the hall and then disappeared. Sam started for it, but Dean held him back.
Sam pulled from his brother's grasp. He knew the spirit was down there and he had to get it. He pulled out the book that contained the rites and walked forward.
He turned back to Dean. "What?"
"Don't go into this thing all pissed off, anger clouds judgment. You know that. We'll get this thing."
He didn't say anything, but nodded slightly. They continued down the hall. The guy that belonged to the spirit had been cremated, so the basic salt and burn didn't apply. That always made things a little more difficult. Apparently, according to the testimonies of those who survived the murderous spirit, it could look like anyone.
He barely caught the whisper and glanced back at Dean. "Did you say something?"
Dean met Sam's eyes. "No. Are you okay?"
"Yeah, let's just do this."
"Sam. You have to help me."
Dean saw his brother pause for a moment. He wanted to ask Sam what was wrong, but knew he'd just get 'nothing' as a reply.
"Only you, not him."
Sam glanced over at Dean. "We'll finish this faster if we split up."
"Splitting up never ends well, I think every horror movie has taught us that."
"Please, Sam. Only you can help me."
Sam was smart enough and had hunted too long to listen to some disembodied voice.
"Sam, you promised my mom. Save me like you couldn't save Jess."
His blood ran icy and something dropped into the pit of his stomach. He swallowed and closed his eyes for a second. A wave of dizziness washed over him and the pain in his head sharpened. He touched the wall for support and leaned against the damp cement.
"Sam?" Dean searched his eyes.
"Just give me a minute." Sam gripped Dean's sleeve.
Sam felt like passing out or vomiting, he wasn't sure which. He closed his eyes again and swallowed back the nausea. He was cold and his skin damp with sweat.
Something crashed a few rooms away. Both Dean and Sam looked towards the sound.
Dean slipped the book out of his brother's shaking hand. "Stay here, I'm going to finish this. Okay?"
"What about the splitting up thing?" He almost smiled.
"I never take movies too seriously."
"Except porn." He did smile then.
"Everything has an exception." He noticed how pale Sam was. "Stay a few feet behind me then."
Sam nodded and pushed himself away from the wall. Dean started down the hall again, his brother behind him.
"Sam, you have to find me. Please."
His headache sharpened again and he staggered slightly. He leaned against a nearby door to the gym. A light flickered for a moment in the darkness of the gym and Sam looked towards it.
"Hey, Dean." Sam glanced back. "I think there's something in here." He stepped into the gym.
Sam's footsteps echoed with the dripping water. He splashed through a few unseen puddles. His hand shook, causing the beam of light to tremble in the dark. His mouth was dry and the pounding in his head increased again. He dropped down to one knee and pressed his fingers against his temple.
Quiet footsteps drew Sam's attention away from his pain. He stood too quickly and was flooded by dizziness. When his vision cleared he saw the translucent outline of a figure. It took him a few seconds to pick out the blond hair and dark eyes from the surrounding dark.
A chill ran up his spine as he recognized the boy. "Jeremy?"
The boy smiled sadly. He looked so much like Jess, forever preserved at seventeen.
"Help me, Sam." Jeremy met Sam's eyes.
"Oh." The air left Sam's lungs.
"Hey, Sam." Dean turned and saw only the empty hall behind him. "Sam?" He paused to listen for footsteps, but heard only the distant drip of water. "Shit."
Dean backtracked to find his brother and tried to ignore the sudden fear that he felt. The spirit appeared in front of him. She was beautiful, soft auburn hair and deep blue eyes. If she wasn't dead, Dean would have jumped her in a second.
She blocked the doors to the gym. "Hello, Dean."