{SPN J2BB} Hey Brother: Chapter 2 of 6
NOW
“Sleep well?” Sam asks from his perch on the rickety chair in their rose-themed room, his laptop resting on the table in front of him with a sealed cup of coffee waiting on the opposite end for Dean.
“Like a baby,” Dean grumbles as he swings his feet off the bed. He jumps slightly as the roses around the room assault his vision and glares as Sam chuckles. “Laugh one more time, and I will make sure you don’t talk for a week.”
Sam says nothing, an odd expression crossing his face. Dean dismisses it and heads towards the bathroom to freshen up, grabbing his clothes along the way. About thirty minutes later he exits in a cloud of steam, feeling a lot better.
He knows that Sam sees right through him but he’d rather not talk about his recent nightmare. Dean shudders as he remembers it with vivid clarity.
In his dream, he’d been sleeping next to Cas in his bedroom in the bunker, both of them facing the opposite way. Dean had turned to lay a hand around Cas’s waist, only to feel warm wetness on his palm as he’d touched Cas’s chest. He’d withdrawn his hand to find blood coating his palm and slowly streaking down toward his forearm.
In alarm he’d turned Cas over to find blood pouring from the angel’s torso, soaking the bedsheets in red while Castiel’s dead, lifeless eyes hung open in endless fear; the last thing the angel must have felt when dying.
Dean remembers waking up in a cold sweat, heart beating a mile a minute.
“Dean, you okay?” Sam asks.
Dean snaps out of his reverie and realizes he’s somehow gravitated toward his bed and has apparently been standing in that spot for quite some time. He clears his throat, not meeting Sam’s eyes. “I’m fine.”
He’s glad when Sam doesn’t push. He quickly gets dressed and walks over to Sam, absently rubbing the spot where the Mark of Cain is seared into his arm.
“How about we head for breakfast and I tell you what I found so far?” Sam asks.
Dean seems taken aback by the sudden question, but he agrees. Stepping out might actually help. He grabs his cup of coffee, scoops up the keys to the Impala from the bedside table, grabs his jacket from his bed, and follows Sam out the door.
~*~*~
Sam watches with amusement as Dean takes an overly large bite of the burger he’s ordered and lets out a particularly dirty moan. “Dude, shut up.”
“Hy, dis ish hvven,” Dean struggles to speak around the massive portion of food in his mouth.
“I’m sorry, I don’t speak alien,” Sam teases.
Dean rolls his eyes and concentrates on chewing. After a few seconds he gulps loudly and says, “I said that this masterpiece here is Heaven.”
It’s Sam’s turn to rolls his eyes as he smirks and shifts his gaze back to his laptop.
So what did you find, Geek Boy?”
Sam ignores the nickname and says, “Okay, so there isn’t much in the news articles. But I dug up the police reports and get this: they apparently were smart enough to process the sea salt and stuff. They ended up at this beach and found…” Sam hesitates. Cases with kids always got to them a lot more than the others. “They found seven sets of human skeletons, all in varying degrees of decomposition.” He shudders involuntarily. “Dude, it’s the kids. But… like… just their bones. What kind of monster can do this?” Sam asks, disgust and rage clear in his voice.
As he looks towards Dean, he knows instantly that his brother feels the same way.
Dean looks somber as he asks, “Anything else you could find?”
Sam licks his lips, stalling. He knows Dean will not like this news. “Another kid went missing. Yesterday. The mom filed a missing persons report.”
Dean’s expression turns steely and determined as he pushes away his half eaten burger. “Let’s go.”
~*~*~
Dean pulls up near the curb, in front of the house, then cuts the engine and gets out. Sam hands him his fake I.D. and he takes a deep breath before straightening his suit jacket and walking towards the front door, Sam right behind him.
Dean knocks on the door thrice. A few seconds pass and a dark-haired woman opens the door. She looks tired, her eyes red-rimmed but her expression composed and strong. Somehow Dean can tell she’s been through more than just losing her kid with the way she holds herself.
“May I help you?” she asks. “This isn’t really a good time.”
Dean mentally rolls his eyes when Sam starts speaking. Sam always seems to appeal more to the families than Dean does. He may tease Sam for it, but truthfully, Dean admires that part of his brother, of being able to connect with people on that level. Something that Dean is not always very good at.
“I’m sorry. We don’t wanna bother you. This is Agent Young, I’m Agent Johnson,” Sam says gently as he briefly flashes his fake badge along with Dean. “We just want to ask a few questions. I promise it won’t take long.”
“I already went through this with the local police department,” she says.
“We know. We just wanna be thorough. We’ll be out of your hair in no time, I assure you,” Sam says.
The woman hesitates and then nods and lets them in.
Soon, the three of them are sitting in the living room. Dean admires the woman, who introduced herself as Melanie. Usually, in any other case, the families affected by these fucked up creatures are sobbing or incoherent. But apart from the stray tear that Melanie wipes away now and then, her voice is steady.
“Daniel, he’s a good kid. A straight-A student. He was studying for a quiz the next day when he…” She trails away. “I’m sorry. I just don’t know how someone got into his room. He’s all I have. My husband died a few years ago in an accident. Drunk driver rammed into him in an intersection. It’s been a hard few years being a single mother. But Daniel has been nothing but an angel,” she says, wiping a tear away.
“We’ll do our best to find him,” Dean says.
“So what happened exactly?” Sam asks.
Melanie takes a steadying breath, “He was studying for a math quiz that night. I’m a nurse, and I had to fill in for my co-worker so I was tired from my shift. I told him to get to bed soon and fell asleep. The next morning, he wouldn’t open his door when I knocked. And it was locked from the inside. After a while, when he still wouldn’t open the door, I called a few neighbors and they helped break it open. Only, he wasn’t there. That’s pretty much it. Then I called the police and, I guess you know the rest.”
“Did you see or hear anything strange?” Dean asks.
Melanie frowns in confusion. “Strange?”
Sam nods. “Just, cold spots. Anything that seemed out of the ordinary.”
“How would that help you find my son?” Melanie questions.
“It’s just routine questions. We just want to make sure we explore every possibility, that’s all,” Dean replies.
Melanie shakes her head in denial before narrowing her eyes. “Daniel’s room smelled a bit weird for a while when we first got into it. Does that count?”
“What do you mean?” Sam prods.
“It smelt a lot like the sea. I don’t really know how to explain it. And the police said they’d found sea salt near Daniel’s desk chair,” Melanie explains.
“Do you mind if I check out his room?” Sam asks.
“No. Go ahead. Anything to help get my boy back,” she says.
Sam leaves the room and heads upstairs. Melanie and Dean sit for a few seconds in silence until Melanie breaks it. “Can I ask you something?”
Dean nods, giving her all his attention.
“I heard that the police found... bones. And they suspect it could be the children that went missing before Daniel. Is it true?”
Dean suddenly feels uneasy. How is he supposed to tell her? He hates when kids are the ones targeted by these supernatural creatures. It just hits home seeing as he and Sam have been through enough shit in their own childhoods because of the things that went bump in the night. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I’m allowed to discuss case findings with anyone,” he finally says, not meeting Melanie’s eyes.
Melanie seems to understand by the way Dean acts. “Oh, God,” she whispers as her resolve breaks. Silent tears stream down her face as her eyes radiate pain and fear for her son.
Dean immediately gets up and walks over to her, kneeling in front of her. “I promise you I will do all I can to get your son back. We’ll get whoever is doing this.”
Melanie takes a few deep breaths trying to compose herself. “He’s all I have. Please get him back.”
Before Dean can reply however, Sam walks into the room and nods his head ever so slightly towards the main door. Dean takes the cue to leave and settles with giving a quick nod and a look of promise to Melanie. He knows there are so many ways this thing can go sideways. And that Daniel is most probably injured if not dead already, judging by the skeletons that turned up. But he can’t just shatter this mother’s hope.
He and Sam thank Melanie for her hospitality and head towards the Impala as the single mother shuts the door after them.
“So?” Dean raises his eyebrows in question.
“Didn’t look like a ghost or anything. It’s probably something else,” Sam says.
“Nothing came up on the EMF?” Dean asks and then grits his teeth and pointedly decides to ignore the incredulous look Sam had thrown his way at Dean’s question.
“I hate this,” Dean mutters.
“Come again?”
“She’s been through crap, Sam. I could see it in her eyes. And I just promised her I’d find her son. How the fuck am I supposed to keep that promise? For all I know, the kid could be dead,” Dean snaps. He then takes a steadying breath. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to do that. This is just really fucked up.”
Sam gives a look of understanding as they both settle into the car. “I get it, man. It’s definitely fucked up. I don’t know what sort of monster could do this kinda thing.”
“We need to get this damn fugly. And fast. Before another kid disappears.”
“Yeah. How about I go check out the bodies - or what’s left of them anyway - and you ask around with the other families?” Sam suggests.
Dean nods, a look of determination on his face. He’s not going to let another kid die at the hands of this monster.
~*~*~
Dean is half asleep when Sam enters the motel room. He jerks awake after feeling a cold hand on his arm. “Dude, I told you to stop doing that,” Dean says, running a hand over his face.
Sam gives him an apologetic look. “Sorry. Anyway, did you find anything?” Sam asks as he sits down on the bed opposite Dean’s.
“Yeah,” Dean nods. “So the stuff we know is that these kids seem to have been taken from completely locked or sealed rooms without a break-in. The sea salt in each of the rooms, everything. But almost all the families said what Melanie did. That the rooms also smelt like the sea for a while. That’s gotta be something right?”
Sam frowns. “Yeah. That can’t be a coincidence. It’s not much of a lead but we’ll check it out. Maybe this creature is related to the sea or something. Though I have no idea how it would make it to children’s rooms in the dead of night.”
“So what did you find?” Dean asks.
“It’s definitely the kids, man. It’s… It’s horrible. This monster left nothing. All the flesh seems to have been eaten right up to the bone. I didn’t wanna stay in there any longer than I had to.”
A sense of dread and horror fills Dean. Not for himself, but for the kids. A very horrifying question pops into his mind. “Do you… do you think the kids were… alive? When this - this thing started…eating them?” He feels like he already knows the answer. He suddenly feels a pit form at the bottom of his stomach.
Sam blanches. “I hope not. Crap, we need to end this, and quick. I’ll see what I can find. How about you get some rest?”
Dean starts to protest when Sam stops him. “Dude, you look tired. Get some shut eye. I’ll wake you up in like thirty minutes if you want. Trust me. We won’t let this thing get away,” Sam assures.
Knowing that this is not a battle he can win with Sam, he nods and lays down on the bed while Sam heads over to the table in their room, plops down soundlessly onto the chair and fires up the laptop.
Dean gives a look of disgust to the ceiling, hating the rose theme. He turns over so he’s facing Sam’s bed and is asleep within minutes.
THEN
Dean manages to convince Cas to rest a night before he drives him back to the Gas N’ Sip. He even tries to help Castiel with his bleeding hand, which he’d ended up inflicting while trying to save himself from Ephraim.
He books them a room with two single beds in some run-down motel. He’s kicking his shoes off while sitting on the bed nearest the door as he watches Cas, sitting on the other bed, try to tie a handkerchief one-handed around his palm to cover the wound.
“Here, let me help,” Dean says. He walks over to his duffel and gets the first aid kit. He then kneels in front of Cas and silently tends to his wound.
The moment that Dean had arrived at the Gas N’ Sip, he’d realized he did feel something for this angel. The pain he’d felt at asking Cas to leave before, it had been different. Arriving at the gas station and seeing Castiel had made all the difference.
At that moment, Dean realized he was in love.
Dean finally ties a bandage around Cas’s palm and smiles up at him; his heart breaking seeing the pain in the former angel’s eyes.
He wants to make Castiel feel better. He wants to tell him that he’s there for him, that he has feelings for him. But something makes his throat constrict just seeing the anguish in those eyes.
Dean thinks this isn’t the right time.
“Are you okay?” Dean asks, getting to his feet and sitting on the corner of his own bed.
“I don’t know,” Castiel says after a pause. “All this is happening because of me, Dean. If I hadn’t lost my grace to Metatron none of this would be happening. I should never have trusted him in the first place.”
“This isn’t your fault, Cas,” Dean immediately responds, his heart breaking even more knowing the reason for Cas’s pain. “You didn’t know any of this would happen.”
“That doesn’t account for anything, Dean. I should have known. Every time, I’ve always tried to do what was right. And every time all that has ever happened is chaos and destruction,” Cas snaps, his hands balling into fists as he clutches the bedsheet.
Dean doesn’t know what to say. He knows exactly how Cas feels. If anyone has been through that, it’s him and Sam.
“I’m tired. I’m going to sleep,” Cas finally says, indicating that the conversation is over.
As Castiel shifts up the bed and lays down to sleep, Dean blurts, “Hey, Cas?”
Castiel turns toward him, a questioning look on his face.
Dean hesitates. He needs Castiel to know that he’s not alone. That Dean is there for him, that he can count on him, and that he has someone who truly cares. But Dean can’t bring himself to do it, not after how he’d been forced to ask Castiel to leave the bunker, especially when the former angel had next to no knowledge on how it was to be human.
Dean will never forget the look of hurt in Castiel’s eyes when he’d asked him to leave.
“Just so you know, I don’t blame you for anything. I’ve screwed up too. We all have. It’s part of being human,” Dean says finally.
Dean’s heart lifts as Castiel gives a small smile. “Thank you, Dean.”
“Dean.”
“Dean.”
NOW
“Dean!”
Dean wakes up with a jerk, yelping when the light from the lamp on the bedside table assaults his vision. He moves away from it, swinging his legs over on the opposite side of the bed.
He blinks and lets his vision adjust and then moves his gaze towards Sam, who is sitting on the edge of Dean’s bed with an amused expression on his face.
“What time is it?” Dean asks, his voice thick from sleep.
“Just a few minutes past six,” Sam replies.
“Why didn’t you wake me up earlier?” Dean asks, annoyed. Sam had said he’d wake him up earlier and yet he’d now slept for almost two hours.
“You looked like you needed it.”
Dean nods absently, as he rubs at his eyes. He then looks back at Sam who still looks amused.
“What?” Dean asks. “Something on my face?” he asks, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. He wouldn’t put it past Sam to prank him.
Sam chuckles. “No. You were smiling in your sleep. It was nice. And then you made it awkward when you started making some serious happy noises.”
Dean darts his eyes towards the floor, trying his best not to turn red. He mumbles something about needing to go to the bathroom and almost runs into the wall as he hurries into said bathroom.
He heaves a sigh of relief as he shuts and bolts the door behind him.
He feels a mixture of nostalgia and pain. Nostalgia for the old days when things used to be simple; when he finally had someone apart from Sam, someone he could call more than a friend and not have him die on him like every other person he’d made the mistake of falling in love with.
Pain. Pain for the reality that he did lose the person he loved, when all he’d wanted to do was protect him.
The little bit of joy and yet embarrassment he’d felt when Sam had teased him leaves him in a rush to be replaced by this gaping hole in his chest that he knows he can never fix.
Dean walks over to the sink to wash his face, knowing that he himself is to blame.
For everything that happened.
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