This story is written by Alterra von Feures and myself as a part of our alternate re-telling of Supernatural.
Set after the end of Season 2. Dean and Sam goes after a creature that kills and feeds on young women. But, as Sam discovers, things get a bit more complicated than that when he finds himself attracted to one of the would be victims.
The sheep milled around them driven to a state of panic by that unseen force as Sam followed Dean over the fence and out into the field.
”I know you can hear me!” Dean called, turning around in a slow circle.
Suddenly a wind started howling, tugging at their clothes and hair. Tufts of grass was thrown into the air, caught by the wind and whirled around them…
”We’ve come to set you free!” Dean had to shout to make himself heard over the howls of the wind and the frightened bleat coming from the sheep. ”I know you’re body was stolen!”
Suddenly the wind stopped. The sheep, no longer herded by the poltergeist fled to settle down elsewhere on the field.
”I know what happened to you.” Dean’s voice held that tone of softness again, so rarely heard after the death of their dad. ”We will fix it. I promise. Just stop trying to make us drive over the sheep, okay?”
There was a calmness in the air now. Suddenly Dean heard a little sigh, and a whisper: Okay…
”Are you sure about this?” Sam asked. ”You know how pissed it will be if you break the promise-”
”I saw Melissa”, Dean said, interrupting him.
Sam paused for a moment. ”You know she is dead, right?”
Dean shook his head. ”That’s the problem, Sammy. She is not dead. She and the Fideal are sisters.”
”Oh”, Sam said. ”So that’s what it meant…”
”What?” demanded Dean.
”The Fideal, it told me that they are connected by the same bond.”
”What does that mean?”
Sam shrugged. ”Maybe you should go and ask your girlfriend.”
They were walking back towards the car.
”She is not my girlfriend”, Dean retorted annoyed.
As they took their seats in the little vehicle Sam suddenly laughed.
”What?” Dean asked with a frown.
”I can’t believe you actually stuck your tongue into a Fideal!”
Dean closed his eyes in despair. ”Just drive.”
Stormy kneeled by the side of the bed, the rosary that had belonged to her mother was wrapped around her clasped hands as she prayed.
Her hair was still wet from the shower and she was dressed in a simple white night-gown. On the nightstand there stood a picture in a golden frame; her parents. They were both so young and smiled beautifully for the camera. The photograph had been taken two weeks before the wedding.
They seemed so happy. Two young people in love, planning to live together for the rest of their lives. And then she had been born, nine months after the weeding, and three months after that they were both dead.
As always she felt a strange pang of guilt as if it were her fault that the fire had started.
Tonight she had a hard time focusing on her prayer. All she could see when she closed her eyes was Sam. The pain in his beautiful eyes when she flinched back from him. Tears suddenly filled her eyes.
She wanted nothing more than to call him, to tell him that she was sorry. And she would have had she had his telephone number. ”Tomorrow”, she whispered. ”I’ll go to the motel tomorrow and talk to him.”
”Stop grinning, Sam I swear…” Dean punched his fist on the tiny dash denting the thin veneer.
”Oh now your gonna get it!” Sam mocked as he pulled up outside the motel. ”Bobby will have your ass for this! You gotta learn to love her, bro.” He ran loving fingers over the rounded hood as he sauntered toward the room.
He fell silent as a sad look passed over Dean’s face.
”Hey, Dean”, he murmured, touching his muscular shoulder. ”We’ll get her back together alright”
”God-dam right I will.” Dean said in the singular. Sam winced visibly then for his words. Dean caught it and regret bit at him. ”I mean sure… you can help, Sam, even if you don’t know a wrench from a hammer.” He smirked, punching Sam lightly on the arm.
”I do Dean.” His young face was serious. ”I really want to help fix the impala, OK?”
”You bet, Sam. Now let’s get some shut eye.” He smiled that rare smile for Sam as he opened the door.
Dean was in bed before Sam as usual, watching him linger over his bag, his toothbrush and stuff like that. “You can’t stay awake for ever, Sam”, he finally sighed.
”I don’t know what you’re talking about, Dean.”
”I mean whatever’s scaring your ass in those dreams will kill you quicker if you don’t sleep. Just tell me what it is, maybe that will help”, he prodded matter of facktly.
Sam turned, looking down at the ugly carpet, sitting slowly on the bed in his cotton boxers. ”I can’t… I can’t tell you, Dean.”
”Goddamit why not, Sammy?” he demanded.
Sam raised his eyes, filled with fear, and looked at his brother. ”You’ll think something’s wrong with me. You’ll …”
Dean sat up fear razing his heart for whatever this was he seen in his brothers eyes was more frightening than the monsters they fought. “No, Sam you tell me you tell me now!” He leaned forward, laying his hand across Sam’s neck squeezing gently. ”Tell me.”
Sam looked him in the eyes then. ”The yellow eyed demon… He comes at me in my dreams, Dean and he’s real… so very…real…”
”No!” Dean gasped. ”You can’t be serious!”
Sam pulled away from him. ”I knew you would think that I’m loosing it!”
”No…” Dean said, sitting there with his father’s last words running through his mind. ”Jesus, Sam…” He ran his fingers through his spiky hair.
”What do you think it means?” Sam asked, his voice small.
Dean quickly looked away, scratched his nose. ”I don’t know, Sammy. But what ever it means we will face it together, bro. Okay?” He reached out again, pulling Sam into his arms and hugged him fiercely. ”Now try and get some sleep”, he said releasing his younger brother again and leaning back in his own bed.
Reluctantly Sam did the same.
The long journey and everything that had happened since they rolled into Mansion had taken its toll on him and quickly fell asleep.
Dean sat in his bed and watched his little brother sleep. Then he rose and moved on quiet feet towards the bags filled with the weapons of their trade. He opened one of the side-pockets and retrieved a velvet pouch. As he moved towards Sam’s bed a lonely moon beam shone in through a crack between the curtains. It played over muscular arms and shoulders; caressed its way across a well toned chest and abdomen as Dean stood by his little brother’s bed.
He opened the pouch and poured a mix of salt, herbs and the holy bread of the Christian sacrament, into his hand. He then moved in a circle, allowing a thin stream of the white dust run through his fingers, creating a circle of protection around Sam.
Hopefully it would at least allow Sam to sleep a little better tonight.
Dean returned to his bed and lay there, watching his brother. Silent tears ran down his cheeks. He looked strangely vulnerable, like the little boy he had once been.
”I can’t do it, Dad”, he whispered. ”How could you even ask that of me?”
Finally sleep came to claim him as well. The tears dried on his cheeks, but his brow was knotted, the sensual curve of his lips turned downward in grief and fear.
The sun stood high above the horizon when the sound of someone knocking woke them both up.
Sam was rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as Dean slipped out of his bed, instantly wide awake. He padded over to the window and peered out, then he turned to his brother with a little smile.
”It’s for you, Sam.”
Sam groaned rising up on his elbows, his hair a tousled brown mess. He raised a hand over his face to block the ever brightening light as he looked at the open door.
His eyes widened and he stumbled out of bed tripping over tangled blankets as he fell to the floor.
Dean smiled at Stormy ”Not what you call a morning person ”he gave her a grin walking away from the door with a long arm stretch , showing off rippling muscles across his back and shoulders before sauntering off to the bathroom.
Stormy stepped into the doorway peeking in at Sam scrambling off the floor. He stood suddenly, smiling like an idiot. ”Hey there… Stormy.” He said softly, rubbing his hair down as best he could.
”Hey back”, she returned, a lovely blush of colour rising across her cheeks as she caught sight of something bulging in his boxers, dropping her gaze with a giggle.
Sam looked down gasping. ”Awww shit ”, he mumbled reaching for his pants on the end of the bed to cover himself
”Morning wood, bro”, Dean chipped over his toothbrush, winking at Stormy as he pulled a shirt from his bag.
Another giggle as Sam yanked his pants up, giving Dean a scathing glance.
‘What?” Dean said with that sardonic lift of an eyebrow, heading back to the sink to spit.
Sam hurried over to Stormy, touching her arm lightly. ”Hey I’m so glad you came over. About last n –night….” He stammered.
‘Its OK, Sam”, she said softly, touching his hand. ”I panicked, I’m sorry.”
”Yea?” Sam smiled beautifully for her and she returned it the same.
”I need to talk to you if that’s alright?” Her eyes darting in Deans direction.
”Yea, how about some coffee and breakfast and we’ll talk. All of us, OK Dean?’
”Sounds good, Sammy.” Dean flashed them a quick smile as he went for his pants.
Sam took both her hands in his pulling her closer he surprised her with a soft kiss. Her blue eyes going wide. ”I could never hurt you Stormy you know that right?” He whispered against her coppery hair.
”I know, Sam. I realized that last night.” Her face was drawn her eyes tired reminding him of …him.
”You look tired”, he murmured with concern.
”That’s part of the problem, I think”, she said carefully.
Sam touched her cheek, ”We’ll talk about it.”
He went back to the bed hefting his bag up to plop on the rickety thing when he seen a bit of the powder, what was left of the protection circle. He looked at Dean fingering a bit of dust.
”You did that for me last night?” He asked, his voice tight.
”Someone’s got to watch out for you, little brother.” Dean said. ”Lets get some breakfast. I’m starving!”
Sam smiled and nodded pulling on a shirt. He turned to see Stormy and Dean waiting for him …maybe this day would be a little better …maybe.
Stormy led them to a diner that looked as if it had been plucked right out of the fifties and then preserved. The pink neon sign in the window said: Nancy’s.
”They have the best pancakes”, Stormy said as she pushed the door open and led them inside. ”And the best coffee.”
”Sounds great”, Dean said.
They found a booth in the far end of the L shaped diner and started eyeing the menu.
A waitress dressed in pink came over to them with a friendly smile. ”Hi, Stormy, what can I get you?”
”Hi, Nancy. The usual please, and a double cup of coffee.”
”And you boys?” Nancy asked, giving them a look over her glasses.
”I’ll have pancakes and scrambled eggs and bacon. And a glass of OJ, sweetheart”, Dean said with a wink and a smile.
”I’ll have the same but change the juice into a coffee”, Sam said.
”I’ll make yours a double one too, honey”, Nancy said. ”You two kids been up running around all night?” She asked, her eyes going from Stormy to Sam.
”It’s just been a long night, that’s all”, Sam said managing to smile.
Nancy nodded. ”Your breakfast will be done in a couple of minutes.” She hurried off to shout at the chef.
Sam stretched across the table, taking the girl’s hand in his. ”Stormy”, he said. ”Are your parents dead?”
She nodded, a tear formed in the corner of her eye and slowly rolled down her cheek. She wiped it away with her free hand.
”They died in a fire, didn’t they?” Dean said quietly.
The girl’s eyes widened. ”How did you know?”
”The same thing happened to us”, he said, leaning forward a little, not wanting anyone to overhear the conversation. ”I remember the smell of smoke and my dad with his face streaked in sot. He pushed Sammy into my arms and told me to get out of the house. He tried to save mom but the fire was too intense.”
”I’m so sorry”, Stormy said, instinctively reaching out, taking Dean’s hand.
Dean found himself having to swallow hard, as if the girl’s light touch awoke something inside of him, some part of himself that he had turned off and ignored long ago.
”How do you sleep at night?” He asked, unaware of the softness that had crept into his voice.
”Not good”, Stormy whispered. Her eyes flickered to Sam before returning to Dean. ”I have these dreams.”
”About a yellow-eyed demon?” Sam asked. ”I have them too.”
”How?” She started, then: ”A demon?”
”Have you told your uncle about the dreams?” Sam wanted to know.
She nodded. ”He said I shouldn’t worry about them, that they will pass. But…” She shuddered. ”They are so scary… the things he says…”
”I know”, Sam said, caressing her hand.
”Here we go,” a cherry voice interrupted. It was Nancy returning with their breakfast.
Sam gave her hand a comforting squeeze leaning back he caught the serious glint in Deans eyes and nodded.
Nancy piled the plates across the table with expert ease, flashing a slightly yellow smile. ”Eat up kids”, she said in a motherly tone before sauntering off.
They ate in silence for a few minutes, forks scrapping cups tipping.
Sam sighed after a forkful of pancake, looking at Stormy as she picked more than ate at her food. “What does he say to you, Stormy, in your dream?”
His question was pointed and Dean paused with a forkful of pancake halfway to his mouth.
Stormy set her fork down slowly looking at him with frightened blue eyes. ”He says I’m one of the chosen … one that will rise, or fall among others like myself.”
Sam swallowed hard as Dean turned his head and looked at him. ”And you Sam, what does he say to you ?”
”The same thing. Look, Dean it’s obvious I’m not the only one that dreams this, and I’ll bet the devil there are more of us!”
Dean winced. ”Not a good one to bet with, Sammy.”
”You know what I mean”, he returned exasperated as Dean plied the last of his pancake into his mouth.
Sam looked back at Stormy and she was shaking like a leaf. He grabbed her hand pulling her close. ”Don’t be afraid, Stormy, well figure this out, I swear.”
She nodded and managed to give him a pale smile.
A thought began bothering Dean, a thought he wasn’t going to air in front of her… He took a sip of juice as the Sheriff came into distorted view from the bottom of his glass. ”Well howdy, Sheriff Miller” he said with a wry smile as he lowered the glass, noting the unhappy frown he and his plump deputy wore.
”Another girl is dead”, Miller said quietly, almost accusingly.
Dean’s smile evaporated. ”When?”
”Under the twin bridges late last night”
Dean’s breath exploded. He had been there!
”Little Deanna Field, only 13 years old, running around late with her friends. She had snuck out the window. He mother didn’t even know she was gone. Looks like she was heading back home …when…” The man swallowed hard, his voice nearly breaking.
Dean felt sick, nodding slowly. Sam said nothing as he held Stormy.
”You boys been trying to do something about this at all?” Miller asked half accusingly as his eyes fell on Sam and Stormy.
Dean stood up stiffly, getting in the sheriff’s face. ”I know more in one night than you have since it started, Sheriff”, his voice dead calm his eyes steely.
”Fine ..boy.” Miller returned without budging an inch. ”Just was hoping it wasn’t going to happen any more if you get my drift.” He pulled out his bag of beechnut tobacco, stuffing his left cheek full.
”It ends tonight”, Dean said with hard core certainty.
”See that it does, Winchester. I’d hate to see you boys go up in flames.” The Sheriff made it clear, very clear. Dean gave him a curt nod, jaw set as the Sheriff tipped his hat at Stormy and moved on with Willard in tow.
Dean sat, his brow glistening with sweat.
”Just how the hell you going to make this all happen tonight, Dean?!” Sam hissed.
He started shaking his head when Dean gave Stormy a very pointed look. ‘Oh no ..no, Dean you cant be thinking of using her as bait. She already had a run in ,literally with one of those bitches!”
Stormy raised her hand, silencing Sam’s protests. ”This is my town”, she said, her voice calm now, filled with determination. ”If there is anything I can do to stop the killings I will do it.”
”No!” Sam’s voice was loud enough to make people turn their heads and glance at them. ”No, you can’t do this, Stormy! You almost died!”
She turned to him, her eyes tumultuous depths of churning blue. ”Yes, Sam. Almost. You were there to save me, and you will be there to save me again.”
”No…” His voice had sunk to a desperate whisper. ”What if I fail. Stormy, I am begging you, don’t do this. We’ll think of something else.”
”This is the only way, Sammy”, Dean interrupted. ”You know it is.”
”Shut up, Dean!” Sam barked. ”I won’t let you risk her life!”
Dean put a strong hand on his little brother’s arm. ”But it isn’t your choice. It’s hers.” He turned to Stormy.
”I want to do this”, she said. ”These are my friends, people I know that is being killed. If I knew I could have done anything to prevent it and didn’t, I couldn’t go on living with myself.”
Sam ran trembling fingers through his hair. ”This is crazy…”
Stormy caressed his cheek with soft fingers, making him look at her. ”Sam”, she said, her voice very soft and sweet. She took his hand and pressed his fingers to her collarbone, where the cross sparkled in the sunlight. ”Have faith.”
Continued in part 9.