A supernatural fic
Jan. 22nd, 2010 04:43 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dol_moonA Supernatural fic I wrote for a Challenge using the prompt What if.
title: Must I go on with you.
Author: Dolavine
Teaster:Spn What if fic, All hell breaks loose part 1,2. Sam dies at the hands of Jake as Dean heads off to bring him back by making a deal with the Cross roads demon. She refuses his request.
Pairings: none a chronicle of Dean with some Bobby Singer
word count: 3,917
Rating PG
Dean stands in front of the Cross Roads demon staring into her black eyes awaiting the answer to his pleading request.
“We have Sam, what do we want with you?” she said turning away from him.
He reaches out and grabs her shoulder. “Take me, Sam doesn’t deserve to die, he’s better than me.” A tear falls down his cheek as he tries to hold a strong cold stare.
“Take the death your dealt Dean; you don’t want to be where Sam is right now.” She stepped into the center of the road and disappeared. Dean fell to his knees covering his eyes with his palms as his heart broke into a million pieces.
The Impala pulled through the dry bushes along the dirt road leading into the ghost town, it pulled up in front of the old school house, and Dean looked at the open door before he took a very deep breath. He reached into the trunk pulling out a shovel and a bag full of rock salt. He then headed into the building his heart heavy but he knew what he had to do with the body, even this, the body of his brother.
The hole he dug was just deep enough to keep animals from digging him up so Dean climbed out and pushed Sam’s lifeless body down into the open grave, it hit with a thud and splayed out face up, the setting sun creeping into the black hole accentuating his blank, open eyes.
Dean sat on the edge of the grave his feet dangling into the open pit, he reached into the bag of salt sitting next to him on the ground, and threw several handfuls onto Sam’s body from head to foot while chanting something in Latin. Tears rolled down his face and into the grave as he finished the binding spell to keep Sam safe from any kind of reanimation. He worked into the night filling the grave in and putting a large stone as a marker over it. He pulled a sharpie pen from his pocket and wrote on the flattest part of the side. Sam Winchester, Brother, Ghost hunter and Hero.
The Impala’s headlights led the way down the country highway to nowhere, and everywhere but nowhere Dean really wanted to be any time soon, he only wanted this highway to go on forever because when he stopped then he would know that Sam was gone.
Several Months later.
Bobby walked into a seedy biker bar in the middle of nowhere, he scanned the room spying a figure sitting at the bar throwing back tequila shots with several hard looking biker chicks on each side of him. He walked up to the man and stood behind him. “You think this will bring him back?” He said looking into the mirror at the warped image of Dean’s face.
Dean turned putting an arm around one of the cooing women, a large drunken smile across his face. “Hey, Bobby boy.” He said putting his other hand on Bobby’s shoulder.
“Dean, do you really think this will make you forget that Sam.” Dean interrupted his sentence. “Have a drink Bobby.” He held out the bottle and shoved it in Bobby’s face. “This don’t change nothing, Sam’s de.” Dean cut him off again only this time with a stern look in his eyes. “That’s a name we don’t mention anymore.” He slammed the bottle on the bar and pushed the women away.
Bobby watched them walk away as Dean poured himself another shot and downed it. He took the bar stool next to him and leaned in close. “Look, this never solved anything Dean. I should know, I’ve been there, when I lost my family.” Dean shouted. “I said, we don’t talk about that, or didn’t you get the MEMO, I’ve moved on to bigger and better things.” He poured another drink and slammed it back wincing at the taste.
Bobby stood up and leaned over the bar into Dean’s face. “When you’re ready I’m at the Bar D’s Inn room 23 but I’m not stay’n I’ll be gone by tomorrow night.” He started to walk away when Dean turned his stool around. “Yeah, leave, that’s right get the hell outta here old man, who needs what you’re sellin anyway.” “you all leave anyway, so what does it matter.” He muttered under his breath before raising a drink to the crowd, tilted his head back and poured it back hissing after he swallowed. “Now that’s what I’m talking about, pure medication for what ails ya.” He said turning back to the bar. Bobby headed out the door.
Dean woke up his head pounding as usual, the sun hurting his squinting eyes. “Oh yeah, another morning after.” He said looking at the naked woman beside him. He pulled the blanket off and walked naked into the bathroom rubbing his head to help ease the pain. He stared into the mirror his tired face looking back at him with a scraggly half beard that was in great need of grooming. He rubbed his hand down his face and looked around the ill kept bathroom for something to shave his face with. He found a lady bic razor full of stubble. “This will have to do.” He said unwrapping a mini sized bar of hotel soap and lathering up his beard. His blood shot eyes staring back at him as he shaved the beard off layer by layer. The taste in his mouth made him sick to his stomach and there was no mouthwash to be found so he put the bar of soap in his mouth and rubbed it over his tongue. “Oh My God!” He gagged and quickly tried to wash his mouth out only creating more suds. He spit and spit, and spit, thinking that it was never going to end but finally relief, no more soap taste. His stomach betrayed him and he ran to the toilet and relieved himself of what wouldn’t digest due to the apparent alcohol poisoning he subjected himself too yet again. He washed his mouth out with cool water and looked at the soap bar again but then decided never again.
He walked back into the bedroom and pulled on his jeans and t-shirt before picking up his boots and coat and slipping out the door. He sat on the hood of the Impala his keys in his mouth and put on his boots, the sun hurt his eyes and his head pounded even harder. He could only think of what Sam would have said to him about what he was doing.
“Alcohol never fixed the problem only made new ones and if your head hurts you did it to yourself, there’s no one else to blame.”
He climbed into the driver’s seat and fired up the car. “Shut up Sam what do you know your Dead.” He said hitting the gas squealing out of the parking lot. He found himself in front of the same bar he’s been visiting for the past three months, the longest he has ever stayed anywhere in, well, most of his life. He stared at the Open sign glowing in the darkened window. “Home sweet home.” He said climbing out of the car and walking through the door. He bellied up to the bar and slid a credit card across it to the bartender. “You know the drill.” He said. “Sure, Mr.” He read the card. “Sutter, the usual?” Dean smiled “I think a Bloody Mary this morning to start off with; I have a bit of a hang over from last night.” The bartender nodded and walked away the credit card in hand.
The bar was full and Dean was loaded by this time so he called for his tab to be tallied on the credit card because as he put it. “Me and this hot young lady have some business to attend to.” The bartender came back the card in hand, “Dean, it’s been declined.” Dean frowned and pulled out his wallet. “Here, try this one.” He handed the card to the bartender and went back to kissing his date. The bartender returned with a slip and Dean went to sign it. “What’s the name on the card?” he said. The bartender looked at the card. “Lois Jenkins.” They both laughed and Dean made his voice higher to imitate a woman’s “Is that Lois or Loise?.” They both laughed as he signed the slip and pushed the card into his pocket.
Bobby watched as Dean and the woman entered the sleazy motel room stumbling through the door way before slamming the door behind them. He was torn as to what to do about this situation. He wanted to leave and just let him work it out or kill himself but how could he do that, those boys were like sons to him. He started the truck up and began to pull out of the parking lot to drive back to his Hotel when he rode past the bar that Dean liked to live at. The sign that read “Steve’s Place” was falling off the front of the building, the windows were broken out and it was nothing but an abandoned shack with a red condemned sign on the front of it. He slammed on his brakes and pulled into the dirt lot. He got out and walked into the building through the open hole that was once a doorway. The inside was bare, the light fixtures were broken and hanging down, the bar was covered in dirt and downed ceiling plaster, and the Mirror in which he had looked at Dean’s face in was shattered with missing pieces. He knew what he had to do, save Dean from this destruction.
Dean woke up his head splitting and looked over at the woman lying face down in his bed. “Yep, another morning after.” He said this every morning, every morning for the last three months. He woke up in this same hotel room with the dirty bathroom and television that only had porn channels, under the same sheets with a different woman every morning after a night at the same Bar drunk from drinking tequila shots all day and night until he was to the point of passing out. This was his life for three months since, well, since. He couldn’t even bring himself to think it. He looked at his face every morning blood shot eyes, bad taste in his mouth, sick to his stomach and usually ripe from not caring enough to bathe for several days or change his clothes.
He walked into the bathroom, looked into the mirror at his face yet again and stuck out his tongue. He thought about taking a shower and then decided he wasn’t inspired enough. He washed his face, shaved his stubble with the same dull lady bic he took his beard off with the other day and rinsed his mouth with mouthwash that was left by house keeping.
He pulled a fresh pair of jeans out of his duffel bag and put on the same old t-shirt. He grabbed two pain killers from a bottle on his night stand and chewed them up as he picked up his boots and keys before heading out the door. He sat on the steps of the hotel’s stairway and pulled on his boots. It was a cloudy day so no sun to hurt his eyes this morning. He walked up to the hotel office and asked what the room charges were for the month. The clerk hit a few keys on the computer and spouted out a price. Dean slid another stolen credit card over the counter and signed the slip. He winked at the clerk who smiled coyly. “Book the room for another month darling.” He said smiling as he walked out the door. She smiled and said “Oh yes sir.” Her blue eyes going black as the door shut behind him and he strutted to the car.
Bobby pulled into the parking lot across the street from the bar Steve’s place, it was 11am and the building was in tip top shape, the open sign shined a red beacon into the parking lot inviting weary thirsty travelers in for their choice of refreshments. He climbed out of the truck cab and walked inside. The bar was empty all but the bartender who welcomed him to sit at the bar if he wished. He smiled as if nothing was wrong and sat at a corner booth. The bartender asked if he wanted a beer or something to drink, he ordered a beer and sat in the shadows.
Dean pulled into the parking lot again, the first one there. He strutted in the door and sat at the bar. “The usual Dean?” he said pulling the tequila off the shelf. “I think I’ll just have a beer for starters today.” The bartender filled a mug to the brim with a draft and slid it in front of Dean. “Another Credit tab?” He said holding out his hand for the card. Dean reached in his pocket and pulled out several cards. “Where the hell did I get these?” He said. “I know I only put one in my pocket last night.” He looked at the bartender. “Which one Dean?” He said taking one from the pile that he had laid on the counter. “Um, that one will do, I guess.” He sipped the beer and shoved the other cards back into his jacket pocket. Soon the beer was gone and the shots started flowing like water as the bar filled up yet again with thirsty patrons and sexy women.
Bobby laid $5.00 on his table next to the beer he hadn’t even touched and walked out the door. He knew what was going on here. It was a demon trap. This is a trap set-up to keep Dean in a fog of depression and not out looking for revenge over Sam’s death. He climbed in his truck and headed out of town. “I know what I need and IM not gonna find it here.”
Dean leaned over the bar and grabbed a fresh bottle of whiskey from the shelf. “Tequila not enough tonight?” The bartender said handing him a double shot glass and a bowl of popcorn. Dean pushed the popcorn away and pulled the shot glass over and filled it to the rim. “’Sometimes there isn’t enough alcohol in the world to cure what’s eating at your soul.”
“You got that right.” The bartender said smiling.
Dean downed half of the bottle before he knew he couldn’t take any more. He handed the bartender another credit card and told him to “charge it.” The bartender handed the card back to him. “Already did.” He said handing him the original card too. “You’re a good man. Now where’s my wench, I’m off for things that need attending too.” A woman appeared at his side not really Dean’s type but he’s not too picky these days.
Bobby returned to town his truck loaded with everything he would need for an old fashioned devil’s trap. He went to work in the abandoned bar painting symbols on the walls, pentagrams on the ceiling and floor, pouring salt in circles around the room and casting spells. “This outta do the trick, when those demons come in to open up shop in the morning their getting the surprise of their undead lives.”
Dean woke up and suspiciously his head wasn’t pounding. “Oh great I’m getting a tolerance for insane amounts of alcohol.” He looked next to him and there was a woman sleeping beside him. “Good to see some things haven’t change yet.” He stumbled into the bathroom and switched on the light, it didn’t hurt his eyes and he felt like an actual shower this morning. He turned on the hot water, brown rust flew out of the pipes as they honked and sputtered until clear hot water sprayed out. Dean climbed in letting the hot steam wake him up. “Ahhhh, what took me so long to do this?” he said out loud. He heard the door to the bathroom creek open. “Hey sweetie?” a voice said sweetly. “Want some company?” He pulled back the shower curtain to see a naked thin woman with bleached blond hair that he really didn’t recognize standing outside the shower. “Ahh, sure.” He pulled the curtain back and invited her in.
Dean ran down to the corner ATM and withdrew some cash from one of his now many credit cards. “Where the hell am I getting these?” He didn’t even know the passwords but whatever he typed into the ATM seemed to work and he got cash back. He ran back to the hotel and threw $40.00 on the night table before running back out the door.
Bobby pulled up to the bar, the open sign was lit up and the jukebox could be heard outside. “What the hell?” He said pulling the truck into the vacant lot across the street. “How?” he said as he grabbed salt bullets and his rifle from the behind the seat before jumping out of the truck. He ran across the street and up to the entrance of the bar. He leaned into the doorway before kicking the door open revealing the empty bar. He stepped inside but it was empty. The jukebox pounded out classic heavy metal songs, the kind Dean loved to listen to as the red lights over the bar shown down on empty stools. “It’s like the scene from an alien abduction.” He muttered. All he could figure was the devils traps had worked, but why was the bar still transformed and ready enticing Dean? He started toward the door when he heard a car pull up outside, he slipped into one of the back booths and laid down.
Dean pulled up in front of his bar, pulled off his sunglasses and proceeded inside. He bellied up to the bar and called out. “Hey bar keep.” He leaned over the bar and looked up and down each side. He pulled out two credit cards and smacked them down on the bar counter. “Hey, money, plastic, unlimited money.” He shouted looking toward the stockroom doors. He waited a few minutes and looked around finding no one so he stepped behind the bar. “Hum, no one here, I guess it’s a free party today.” He began pouring himself a whiskey when the door opened. He looked over seeing the bar tender standing outside of the door. “Hey, where you been?” Dean shouted out the door before downing the shot of whiskey. “Come on in the first drink is free.”
The bar tender just stood there. “You come out, the parties moving.” He said in a slow drawl not his usual tone. “Nah, I like it here just fine.” He said pouring another drink. “hurry in or the bottles gonna be free.”
Bobby stood up and walked toward Dean. “I thought you were leaving old man.” He said throwing back another shot. “Yeah well see Dean the truth is, your pretty screwed up.” He said slapping the shot glass out of his hand and grabbing the bottle. “Aren’t you even wondering why the Bartender isn’t coming inside his own bar to stop you from drinking his whiskey for free?” Bobby stepped back and pointed at the man outside. Dean looked, snarled, and picked up a clean glass. “Not really.” Bobby grabbed him by the collar of his jacket and pulled him across the bar. “Damn it Dean, He’s a demon, this is a demon Trap, they are trying to kill you to keep you from revenging Sam’s death.” Dean looked around the bar. “So why isn’t he coming in to get me?” he said bewildered.
Bobby pulled Dean to the center of the room and kicked a large table over exposing a devil’s trap painted on old rotten floor boards, he pointed to the ceiling where another was painted and the ceiling was dilapidated and the lights weren’t working. “It’s all a glamour Dean, its all for you, to keep you from leaving. Don’t you see, Sam’s death wasn’t in vein there is something they don’t want you to stop, something that is coming and you alone can defeat it.” His eyes bugged as he dropped Dean to the floor. Dean laid there stunned, he looked at the now black eyed demon standing outside the door, growling with rage. Flashes of blurry memories raced through his brain.
The same thing every morning.
Where was he getting all these credit cards?
Nobody questions why the names on the cards are not his and sometimes female.
The motel clerk never asked him for his information when he signed in and her
eyes went black just the other day when he was leaving.
Dean stood up dusted off his jeans and turned back to the bar. He walked over grabbed the bottle of whiskey shoved a bar rag down inside of the bottle and lit it on fire. “Stand back Bobby we’re getting out of here. Bobby loaded his shotgun with salt rounds and aimed at the door. He fired two rounds into the demon as Dean pitched the flaming bottle at the wall of liquor igniting an explosion. They both rushed the door and jumped through it as the injured demon vanished from their sight. They tumbled into the parking lot just as the building exploded into a fiery mass.
The demon reappeared behind them and two others walked out of the fire. Dean and Bobby took off heading for the impala. “Now Dean, where do you think your going?” Dean turned to see the Yellow eyed demon staring back at him. He raced to the car the other demons appearing in front of him as he opened the trunk. Bobby reached in a grabbed out the Colt and fired at the yellow eyed demon missing him. Dean grabbed the gun shoved the other demons away and staggered forward quickly taking aim and firing into the Demons chest.
The yellow eyed Demon flew back dropping to the ground. “So, you’ve done it.” He said touching the oozing hole in his chest as he fell to the ground face up the black smoke pouring out of the host’s mouth and disappearing into the sky. Dean turned and aimed at the other two demons that had dropped to the ground the black smoke racing into the sky before disappearing.
Dean looked at Bobby and put his hand on his shoulder. “Thank you for your one man intervention.” Bobby just smiled and pulled Dean in for a fatherly hug. “I’m glad your back, now don’t ever do that again.”
The Impala pulled into the ghost town and down the street to Sam’s grave marker. Dean and Bobby got out of the car and stood beside the marker. Bobby looked down. “Hero is a good word to describe Sam.” He said. “Hope someone loves me enough to call me that after I’m gone.” He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a silver cross and placed it on Sam’s grave.
Dean knelt down and touched the dirt. “Well Sammy, I’m on my own now, but I hope you still have my back, wherever you are.” He looked up at the sky the sun making him squint. “Take care of him, he’s my brother.”
The end
title: Must I go on with you.
Author: Dolavine
Teaster:Spn What if fic, All hell breaks loose part 1,2. Sam dies at the hands of Jake as Dean heads off to bring him back by making a deal with the Cross roads demon. She refuses his request.
Pairings: none a chronicle of Dean with some Bobby Singer
word count: 3,917
Rating PG
Dean stands in front of the Cross Roads demon staring into her black eyes awaiting the answer to his pleading request.
“We have Sam, what do we want with you?” she said turning away from him.
He reaches out and grabs her shoulder. “Take me, Sam doesn’t deserve to die, he’s better than me.” A tear falls down his cheek as he tries to hold a strong cold stare.
“Take the death your dealt Dean; you don’t want to be where Sam is right now.” She stepped into the center of the road and disappeared. Dean fell to his knees covering his eyes with his palms as his heart broke into a million pieces.
The Impala pulled through the dry bushes along the dirt road leading into the ghost town, it pulled up in front of the old school house, and Dean looked at the open door before he took a very deep breath. He reached into the trunk pulling out a shovel and a bag full of rock salt. He then headed into the building his heart heavy but he knew what he had to do with the body, even this, the body of his brother.
The hole he dug was just deep enough to keep animals from digging him up so Dean climbed out and pushed Sam’s lifeless body down into the open grave, it hit with a thud and splayed out face up, the setting sun creeping into the black hole accentuating his blank, open eyes.
Dean sat on the edge of the grave his feet dangling into the open pit, he reached into the bag of salt sitting next to him on the ground, and threw several handfuls onto Sam’s body from head to foot while chanting something in Latin. Tears rolled down his face and into the grave as he finished the binding spell to keep Sam safe from any kind of reanimation. He worked into the night filling the grave in and putting a large stone as a marker over it. He pulled a sharpie pen from his pocket and wrote on the flattest part of the side. Sam Winchester, Brother, Ghost hunter and Hero.
The Impala’s headlights led the way down the country highway to nowhere, and everywhere but nowhere Dean really wanted to be any time soon, he only wanted this highway to go on forever because when he stopped then he would know that Sam was gone.
Several Months later.
Bobby walked into a seedy biker bar in the middle of nowhere, he scanned the room spying a figure sitting at the bar throwing back tequila shots with several hard looking biker chicks on each side of him. He walked up to the man and stood behind him. “You think this will bring him back?” He said looking into the mirror at the warped image of Dean’s face.
Dean turned putting an arm around one of the cooing women, a large drunken smile across his face. “Hey, Bobby boy.” He said putting his other hand on Bobby’s shoulder.
“Dean, do you really think this will make you forget that Sam.” Dean interrupted his sentence. “Have a drink Bobby.” He held out the bottle and shoved it in Bobby’s face. “This don’t change nothing, Sam’s de.” Dean cut him off again only this time with a stern look in his eyes. “That’s a name we don’t mention anymore.” He slammed the bottle on the bar and pushed the women away.
Bobby watched them walk away as Dean poured himself another shot and downed it. He took the bar stool next to him and leaned in close. “Look, this never solved anything Dean. I should know, I’ve been there, when I lost my family.” Dean shouted. “I said, we don’t talk about that, or didn’t you get the MEMO, I’ve moved on to bigger and better things.” He poured another drink and slammed it back wincing at the taste.
Bobby stood up and leaned over the bar into Dean’s face. “When you’re ready I’m at the Bar D’s Inn room 23 but I’m not stay’n I’ll be gone by tomorrow night.” He started to walk away when Dean turned his stool around. “Yeah, leave, that’s right get the hell outta here old man, who needs what you’re sellin anyway.” “you all leave anyway, so what does it matter.” He muttered under his breath before raising a drink to the crowd, tilted his head back and poured it back hissing after he swallowed. “Now that’s what I’m talking about, pure medication for what ails ya.” He said turning back to the bar. Bobby headed out the door.
Dean woke up his head pounding as usual, the sun hurting his squinting eyes. “Oh yeah, another morning after.” He said looking at the naked woman beside him. He pulled the blanket off and walked naked into the bathroom rubbing his head to help ease the pain. He stared into the mirror his tired face looking back at him with a scraggly half beard that was in great need of grooming. He rubbed his hand down his face and looked around the ill kept bathroom for something to shave his face with. He found a lady bic razor full of stubble. “This will have to do.” He said unwrapping a mini sized bar of hotel soap and lathering up his beard. His blood shot eyes staring back at him as he shaved the beard off layer by layer. The taste in his mouth made him sick to his stomach and there was no mouthwash to be found so he put the bar of soap in his mouth and rubbed it over his tongue. “Oh My God!” He gagged and quickly tried to wash his mouth out only creating more suds. He spit and spit, and spit, thinking that it was never going to end but finally relief, no more soap taste. His stomach betrayed him and he ran to the toilet and relieved himself of what wouldn’t digest due to the apparent alcohol poisoning he subjected himself too yet again. He washed his mouth out with cool water and looked at the soap bar again but then decided never again.
He walked back into the bedroom and pulled on his jeans and t-shirt before picking up his boots and coat and slipping out the door. He sat on the hood of the Impala his keys in his mouth and put on his boots, the sun hurt his eyes and his head pounded even harder. He could only think of what Sam would have said to him about what he was doing.
“Alcohol never fixed the problem only made new ones and if your head hurts you did it to yourself, there’s no one else to blame.”
He climbed into the driver’s seat and fired up the car. “Shut up Sam what do you know your Dead.” He said hitting the gas squealing out of the parking lot. He found himself in front of the same bar he’s been visiting for the past three months, the longest he has ever stayed anywhere in, well, most of his life. He stared at the Open sign glowing in the darkened window. “Home sweet home.” He said climbing out of the car and walking through the door. He bellied up to the bar and slid a credit card across it to the bartender. “You know the drill.” He said. “Sure, Mr.” He read the card. “Sutter, the usual?” Dean smiled “I think a Bloody Mary this morning to start off with; I have a bit of a hang over from last night.” The bartender nodded and walked away the credit card in hand.
The bar was full and Dean was loaded by this time so he called for his tab to be tallied on the credit card because as he put it. “Me and this hot young lady have some business to attend to.” The bartender came back the card in hand, “Dean, it’s been declined.” Dean frowned and pulled out his wallet. “Here, try this one.” He handed the card to the bartender and went back to kissing his date. The bartender returned with a slip and Dean went to sign it. “What’s the name on the card?” he said. The bartender looked at the card. “Lois Jenkins.” They both laughed and Dean made his voice higher to imitate a woman’s “Is that Lois or Loise?.” They both laughed as he signed the slip and pushed the card into his pocket.
Bobby watched as Dean and the woman entered the sleazy motel room stumbling through the door way before slamming the door behind them. He was torn as to what to do about this situation. He wanted to leave and just let him work it out or kill himself but how could he do that, those boys were like sons to him. He started the truck up and began to pull out of the parking lot to drive back to his Hotel when he rode past the bar that Dean liked to live at. The sign that read “Steve’s Place” was falling off the front of the building, the windows were broken out and it was nothing but an abandoned shack with a red condemned sign on the front of it. He slammed on his brakes and pulled into the dirt lot. He got out and walked into the building through the open hole that was once a doorway. The inside was bare, the light fixtures were broken and hanging down, the bar was covered in dirt and downed ceiling plaster, and the Mirror in which he had looked at Dean’s face in was shattered with missing pieces. He knew what he had to do, save Dean from this destruction.
Dean woke up his head splitting and looked over at the woman lying face down in his bed. “Yep, another morning after.” He said this every morning, every morning for the last three months. He woke up in this same hotel room with the dirty bathroom and television that only had porn channels, under the same sheets with a different woman every morning after a night at the same Bar drunk from drinking tequila shots all day and night until he was to the point of passing out. This was his life for three months since, well, since. He couldn’t even bring himself to think it. He looked at his face every morning blood shot eyes, bad taste in his mouth, sick to his stomach and usually ripe from not caring enough to bathe for several days or change his clothes.
He walked into the bathroom, looked into the mirror at his face yet again and stuck out his tongue. He thought about taking a shower and then decided he wasn’t inspired enough. He washed his face, shaved his stubble with the same dull lady bic he took his beard off with the other day and rinsed his mouth with mouthwash that was left by house keeping.
He pulled a fresh pair of jeans out of his duffel bag and put on the same old t-shirt. He grabbed two pain killers from a bottle on his night stand and chewed them up as he picked up his boots and keys before heading out the door. He sat on the steps of the hotel’s stairway and pulled on his boots. It was a cloudy day so no sun to hurt his eyes this morning. He walked up to the hotel office and asked what the room charges were for the month. The clerk hit a few keys on the computer and spouted out a price. Dean slid another stolen credit card over the counter and signed the slip. He winked at the clerk who smiled coyly. “Book the room for another month darling.” He said smiling as he walked out the door. She smiled and said “Oh yes sir.” Her blue eyes going black as the door shut behind him and he strutted to the car.
Bobby pulled into the parking lot across the street from the bar Steve’s place, it was 11am and the building was in tip top shape, the open sign shined a red beacon into the parking lot inviting weary thirsty travelers in for their choice of refreshments. He climbed out of the truck cab and walked inside. The bar was empty all but the bartender who welcomed him to sit at the bar if he wished. He smiled as if nothing was wrong and sat at a corner booth. The bartender asked if he wanted a beer or something to drink, he ordered a beer and sat in the shadows.
Dean pulled into the parking lot again, the first one there. He strutted in the door and sat at the bar. “The usual Dean?” he said pulling the tequila off the shelf. “I think I’ll just have a beer for starters today.” The bartender filled a mug to the brim with a draft and slid it in front of Dean. “Another Credit tab?” He said holding out his hand for the card. Dean reached in his pocket and pulled out several cards. “Where the hell did I get these?” He said. “I know I only put one in my pocket last night.” He looked at the bartender. “Which one Dean?” He said taking one from the pile that he had laid on the counter. “Um, that one will do, I guess.” He sipped the beer and shoved the other cards back into his jacket pocket. Soon the beer was gone and the shots started flowing like water as the bar filled up yet again with thirsty patrons and sexy women.
Bobby laid $5.00 on his table next to the beer he hadn’t even touched and walked out the door. He knew what was going on here. It was a demon trap. This is a trap set-up to keep Dean in a fog of depression and not out looking for revenge over Sam’s death. He climbed in his truck and headed out of town. “I know what I need and IM not gonna find it here.”
Dean leaned over the bar and grabbed a fresh bottle of whiskey from the shelf. “Tequila not enough tonight?” The bartender said handing him a double shot glass and a bowl of popcorn. Dean pushed the popcorn away and pulled the shot glass over and filled it to the rim. “’Sometimes there isn’t enough alcohol in the world to cure what’s eating at your soul.”
“You got that right.” The bartender said smiling.
Dean downed half of the bottle before he knew he couldn’t take any more. He handed the bartender another credit card and told him to “charge it.” The bartender handed the card back to him. “Already did.” He said handing him the original card too. “You’re a good man. Now where’s my wench, I’m off for things that need attending too.” A woman appeared at his side not really Dean’s type but he’s not too picky these days.
Bobby returned to town his truck loaded with everything he would need for an old fashioned devil’s trap. He went to work in the abandoned bar painting symbols on the walls, pentagrams on the ceiling and floor, pouring salt in circles around the room and casting spells. “This outta do the trick, when those demons come in to open up shop in the morning their getting the surprise of their undead lives.”
Dean woke up and suspiciously his head wasn’t pounding. “Oh great I’m getting a tolerance for insane amounts of alcohol.” He looked next to him and there was a woman sleeping beside him. “Good to see some things haven’t change yet.” He stumbled into the bathroom and switched on the light, it didn’t hurt his eyes and he felt like an actual shower this morning. He turned on the hot water, brown rust flew out of the pipes as they honked and sputtered until clear hot water sprayed out. Dean climbed in letting the hot steam wake him up. “Ahhhh, what took me so long to do this?” he said out loud. He heard the door to the bathroom creek open. “Hey sweetie?” a voice said sweetly. “Want some company?” He pulled back the shower curtain to see a naked thin woman with bleached blond hair that he really didn’t recognize standing outside the shower. “Ahh, sure.” He pulled the curtain back and invited her in.
Dean ran down to the corner ATM and withdrew some cash from one of his now many credit cards. “Where the hell am I getting these?” He didn’t even know the passwords but whatever he typed into the ATM seemed to work and he got cash back. He ran back to the hotel and threw $40.00 on the night table before running back out the door.
Bobby pulled up to the bar, the open sign was lit up and the jukebox could be heard outside. “What the hell?” He said pulling the truck into the vacant lot across the street. “How?” he said as he grabbed salt bullets and his rifle from the behind the seat before jumping out of the truck. He ran across the street and up to the entrance of the bar. He leaned into the doorway before kicking the door open revealing the empty bar. He stepped inside but it was empty. The jukebox pounded out classic heavy metal songs, the kind Dean loved to listen to as the red lights over the bar shown down on empty stools. “It’s like the scene from an alien abduction.” He muttered. All he could figure was the devils traps had worked, but why was the bar still transformed and ready enticing Dean? He started toward the door when he heard a car pull up outside, he slipped into one of the back booths and laid down.
Dean pulled up in front of his bar, pulled off his sunglasses and proceeded inside. He bellied up to the bar and called out. “Hey bar keep.” He leaned over the bar and looked up and down each side. He pulled out two credit cards and smacked them down on the bar counter. “Hey, money, plastic, unlimited money.” He shouted looking toward the stockroom doors. He waited a few minutes and looked around finding no one so he stepped behind the bar. “Hum, no one here, I guess it’s a free party today.” He began pouring himself a whiskey when the door opened. He looked over seeing the bar tender standing outside of the door. “Hey, where you been?” Dean shouted out the door before downing the shot of whiskey. “Come on in the first drink is free.”
The bar tender just stood there. “You come out, the parties moving.” He said in a slow drawl not his usual tone. “Nah, I like it here just fine.” He said pouring another drink. “hurry in or the bottles gonna be free.”
Bobby stood up and walked toward Dean. “I thought you were leaving old man.” He said throwing back another shot. “Yeah well see Dean the truth is, your pretty screwed up.” He said slapping the shot glass out of his hand and grabbing the bottle. “Aren’t you even wondering why the Bartender isn’t coming inside his own bar to stop you from drinking his whiskey for free?” Bobby stepped back and pointed at the man outside. Dean looked, snarled, and picked up a clean glass. “Not really.” Bobby grabbed him by the collar of his jacket and pulled him across the bar. “Damn it Dean, He’s a demon, this is a demon Trap, they are trying to kill you to keep you from revenging Sam’s death.” Dean looked around the bar. “So why isn’t he coming in to get me?” he said bewildered.
Bobby pulled Dean to the center of the room and kicked a large table over exposing a devil’s trap painted on old rotten floor boards, he pointed to the ceiling where another was painted and the ceiling was dilapidated and the lights weren’t working. “It’s all a glamour Dean, its all for you, to keep you from leaving. Don’t you see, Sam’s death wasn’t in vein there is something they don’t want you to stop, something that is coming and you alone can defeat it.” His eyes bugged as he dropped Dean to the floor. Dean laid there stunned, he looked at the now black eyed demon standing outside the door, growling with rage. Flashes of blurry memories raced through his brain.
Where was he getting all these credit cards?
Nobody questions why the names on the cards are not his and sometimes female.
The motel clerk never asked him for his information when he signed in and her
eyes went black just the other day when he was leaving.
Dean stood up dusted off his jeans and turned back to the bar. He walked over grabbed the bottle of whiskey shoved a bar rag down inside of the bottle and lit it on fire. “Stand back Bobby we’re getting out of here. Bobby loaded his shotgun with salt rounds and aimed at the door. He fired two rounds into the demon as Dean pitched the flaming bottle at the wall of liquor igniting an explosion. They both rushed the door and jumped through it as the injured demon vanished from their sight. They tumbled into the parking lot just as the building exploded into a fiery mass.
The demon reappeared behind them and two others walked out of the fire. Dean and Bobby took off heading for the impala. “Now Dean, where do you think your going?” Dean turned to see the Yellow eyed demon staring back at him. He raced to the car the other demons appearing in front of him as he opened the trunk. Bobby reached in a grabbed out the Colt and fired at the yellow eyed demon missing him. Dean grabbed the gun shoved the other demons away and staggered forward quickly taking aim and firing into the Demons chest.
The yellow eyed Demon flew back dropping to the ground. “So, you’ve done it.” He said touching the oozing hole in his chest as he fell to the ground face up the black smoke pouring out of the host’s mouth and disappearing into the sky. Dean turned and aimed at the other two demons that had dropped to the ground the black smoke racing into the sky before disappearing.
Dean looked at Bobby and put his hand on his shoulder. “Thank you for your one man intervention.” Bobby just smiled and pulled Dean in for a fatherly hug. “I’m glad your back, now don’t ever do that again.”
The Impala pulled into the ghost town and down the street to Sam’s grave marker. Dean and Bobby got out of the car and stood beside the marker. Bobby looked down. “Hero is a good word to describe Sam.” He said. “Hope someone loves me enough to call me that after I’m gone.” He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a silver cross and placed it on Sam’s grave.
Dean knelt down and touched the dirt. “Well Sammy, I’m on my own now, but I hope you still have my back, wherever you are.” He looked up at the sky the sun making him squint. “Take care of him, he’s my brother.”
The end
