Post by Silwyna on May 21, 2009 21:07:50 GMT 1
Many, many thanks to Yor for beta'ing!
Chapter 9
Stan and Chris had searched every room, but there was no sign of their friend and co-worker.
“I don’t get this. Where is he?” Chris called out frustrated. “I swear, if this is some kind of sick joke, I’m gonna kill him.”
“Eddie wouldn’t play around in a situation like this.” Stan said calmly. “Maybe he … Hey, what …? Chris, look at this!” Stan pointed at the wall across from where he was standing, lighting it with his flashlight.
“What is it?” Chris asked. A moment later he had his answer.
Astounded, he and Stan stared at a hole in the wall; a hole leading into a tunnel.
“Where in God’s name is that tunnel coming from?” Chris muttered confused. “There are no tunnels under Rosehill.”
“So we thought.” Stan replied thoughtfully. “There have been rumors …”
“You think Eddie went in there?” Chris asked.
“Without telling us about it?” Stan scratched his head. This didn’t sound like the man he knew.
“But where is he then?” Chris looked inside the tunnel. “Eddie is nowhere on this floor. This might be a way out. Maybe he went in to inspect it, make sure it was safe. Something might have happened …”
“He could be in there.” Stan held his head inside the hole and called loudly. “Eddie? EDDIE?!”
The echo of his voice was the only reply.
“He could be hurt.” Chris said quietly.
Stan nodded. “Okay, let’s check it out.”
He couldn’t breathe. His lungs were burning, desperate to take in air. Lights were dancing in front of his eyes; he could hear his heart pounding in the darkness and the blood rushing in his ears. Something weighty was pressing him down; he tried to push it away, but it wouldn’t move.
Breathe … he needed to breathe!
He tried to think, find an explanation for what was happening, but his mind felt thick and heavy and everything was in a haze. He tried to move, to find a way out, but his muscles felt tight and ached from the effort to escape. He was unable to fight what was holding him down.
He couldn’t breathe and he couldn’t get out!
Feeling an overwhelming, all consuming panic, he couldn’t take it anymore. He opened his mouth, wanting to scream for help, but no sound ensued. Instead he felt dirt rushing down his windpipe, into his lungs …
With a start, Sam woke up, gasping for air – a wave of relief rushed through him when he felt his lungs fill with the desperately needed oxygen. Inhaling deeply, his body slowly relaxed, reveling in the air as it coursed into his parched lungs. His hands went to his chest and stomach, searching for anything that might still hold him down, but there was nothing.
Just a dream… It had just been a bad dream.
He groaned as a pounding headache made itself known. Leaning back on the ground, Sam closed his eyes again.
Despite the nightmare, he wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep. Shivers ran down his spine. He was cold, stiff, sick and he was hurting all over. Sleep would get him away from all this, at least for a while.
“Sam?” His father’s voice pulled him back to awareness.
Groaning, Sam took another deep breath and forced his eyes open. He slowly turned in the direction of his father’s voice. He blinked confusedly when he saw John sitting in a wooden cage, blood smears on his face. It took Sam a moment longer to realize that he was trapped in a cage as well.
“You okay?” John asked; relief and worry shining in his eyes.
“I’m good.” Sam replied, not sounding very convincing. He looked at his surroundings, trying to find out where they were. Not a motel room, that was for sure. Where had he been last? The motel, and then …
It all came back suddenly, the memories flooding through his mind. “Oh shit …” He groaned.
“How’s the head?”
Right, his head. Sam’s hand went to his temple, massaging it slightly. He had suffered another vision; or not a vision, something else. He was experiencing something different from what normally plagued him, first the vision then pain.
It was all wrong and it didn’t make any sense.
“Sam?”
He looked up at his father, forcing his thoughts to stop being such a mess.
“What?” He asked, not sure what the question had been.
“Your head, how are you feeling?”
“I’ve been better.” Sam swallowed. “How are you?” He asked in return, remembering the blood on his father’s face.
“I’ve been better.” John smirked, a small smile playing on his lips.
Sam returned the smile automatically. This didn’t happen often, his father smiling. He didn’t think he had smiled once since they had met up in Manning. Except the time they had talked about having spent his college fund on ammo. They had both smiled then. He was living a strange live.
“Sam?”
“Yes. Sorry.” Sam swallowed, forcing himself to stay focused on the matter at hand. He took a few deep breaths until he was certain he could concentrate long enough to hold a whole conversation – and understand it at the same time. “What happened?” He asked. He had absolutely no recollection. The last thing he remembered was the pain in his head and his father holding him. For some reason the pain had then spread to his whole body, as if he was being punched all over, and then .. nothing.
“We were caught by dwarfs.” John growled, clearly not happy.
Sam was sure he must have misunderstood. “Dwarfs?”
“Dwarfs.”
Sam raised a brow. “Come on. Dwarfs?” He looked intently at his father, but John didn’t look like he was joking. “Dwarfs?” He repeated. “Really?”
“There were at least a dozen of them.” John explained. “And they’re fast! I couldn’t even get a good shot at one of them before they had me.” John said.
Sam still couldn’t believe it. “But … dwarfs? I mean, they’re … small. And … really? You got caught by dwarfs?”
“We got caught by dwarfs, son.” John pointed out in a low voice. “And they’re not your average, Snow White nice little dwarfs. These things are strong. And apparently they like blood.”
“Human blood?” Sam asked carefully, hoping the answer would be no. Of course he knew he wouldn’t really be that lucky.
“What do you think?” John pointed at the other side of the room.
Following the line of his father’s finger, Sam saw Ben – pinned to the wall, his arms and legs strapped to a wooden cross. His whole body was covered with deep cuts, tubes sticking out of his skin, blood running through them and collecting into a wooden tank.
“He’s unconscious, which is probably better for him.” John went on grimly. “They’ve already … tasted him.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sam asked horrified. Again, he didn’t really want to know.
John simply pointed at Ben again and upon closer observation Sam saw that a huge part of his jeans had been ripped off and … part of his flesh as well.
“Oh god, please don’t tell me …” He was pretty sure he was going to be sick.
“You slept through the best part.” John sighed frustrated.
Sam could sympathize with him. Having to watch those things “tasting” from Ben and not be able to do anything must have been pure horror. Just thinking about it made him want to throw up.
“Roberta is here too.” John whispered. He pointed at the other side of the room.
Sam saw the older woman, hanging from a cross, just like Ben. The only exception was that there was no blood running through the tubes anymore. He swallowed. “Is she dead?”
“It must have gone quick.” John replied in a hoarse voice.
“Any idea how we can get out of here?” Sam asked after a moment. He turned toward his father, avoiding the sight of Ben and Roberta. This was more than he could take at the moment.
“I already tried to break the bars, but they won’t budge. Same with the lock.” John replied gloomily.
“Great.” Feeling the urge to do something, Sam rattled the bars, but just like his father, he didn’t have any luck. “Where are they anyway?” He eventually asked.
The wide torch-lit chamber they were held in was empty except for the four full-sized humans. No dwarf could be seen anywhere.
“Probably looking for other people. Who knows how many others are trapped inside the hotel.”
“We have to warn them.” Feeling the urge to do something increase within him and ignoring his own pain, Sam once more tried the bars. This was what they did. Save people - they couldn’t just sit here and do nothing, letting others get caught and probably end up like Ben and Roberta had.
“That won’t help, Sam.” John said calmly.
“We have to do something. There has to be a way out of here.” Sam looked around the room, trying to find something he could use to break the lock, but there was nothing in the vicinity he could reach.
“Sam!” John raised his voice, ordering his son to listen.
Sam automatically went still and looked at his father.
“I have a plan.” John said quietly.
“Okay.” Sam exhaled deeply. A plan sounded good. He should have known his father had already figured out a way out of here. “What plan?”
“They’re going to take one of us out eventually. We surprise them with an attack; they’re probably not used to their prey fighting back like we can.”
Sam waited a moment, but his father didn’t go on. “That’s it?” He eventually asked exasperated.
“You have a better idea?” John asked with a raised brow.
Sam thought about it, but had to admit that he couldn’t think of anything else either. “Maybe Dean will find us before they come back.” He said weakly.
He didn’t need his father’s response to know how lame he’d just sounded.
“Okay, so we wait.” He sighed. “What about Ben?”
John swallowed. “There’s not much we can do to help him.”
Sam stayed silent, his eyes going back to the other man. He couldn’t see if he was still breathing. He hated this. All they could do was wait and watch as he slowly bled to death.
After several minutes of staring at Ben, trying to see if he was still breathing, still alive, Sam couldn’t take it anymore. He turned his head to the opposite wall … only to meet the exact same sight. A man, strapped to a cross, blood running down his body from several wounds, tubes sticking out of his skin – most likely dead. Slowly Sam let his eyes roam around the room and he now saw them everywhere. There were at least ten of them, men and women, some looking more dead than others. The scent of blood and decay reached him and he couldn’t help but retch as the scent sent his stomach churning.
“Sam?” John asked alarmed. “What’s wrong?”
Sam wanted to reply, but at that moment the pain came back with full force. He grabbed at the bars, holding onto them as if that would make the pain any less. Black dots danced in front of his eyes, but he refused to give in. He couldn’t black out now, no matter how much his head felt like exploding. If the dwarves came back now, he wouldn’t be able to fight and he wasn’t going to be the helpless victim again. He wouldn’t just let them drag him out and bind him to a cross. Before he’d wake up again, they’d have half of his blood and he would never be able to fight back. That wasn’t going to happen!
He tightened his grip on the bars, letting the hard wood cut into his palms until finally, the pain subsided. Breathing heavily, Sam let his head rest against the bars, his shoulders sagging.
“Sam?” His father’s worried voice reached him as through a haze.
“I’m o… ” Another wave of nausea rolled over him and Sam threw up the meager contents of his stomach.
Once the retching had stopped, he crawled back to the other end of the cage, breathing heavily, still having the taste of bile in his mouth. He was starting to fear this was turning into a bad habit. Wiping the sweat from his forehead, he glanced at his father. “Sorry.”
“You okay?”
Sam made a short assessment of his body before he replied. He felt worse than before. The trembling had increased, he felt cold, sick, and weak. Everything, without exception, hurt, most of all his head, which made thinking clearly a difficult task.
“No.” He shook his head and immediately regretted it. The pounding returned with a vengeance and for a moment he feared he would throw up again.
“You had another vision?” John asked carefully.
“Yeah. “ Sam replied weakly. “I saw others. Like Ben. They were everywhere. And … it was just … not good.” He choked on the words, not really able to describe what he had seen. “Why am I seeing all this? It doesn’t make any sense!” He hit the bars with his fist, hurting himself more than doing any actual damage to the wood, but welcoming the pain as a meaning to focus.
“We’ll figure it out, Sammy. First, we need to concentrate on getting out of here.”
Sam nodded, still shaking all over from the cold and his last vision. They were taking more and more of his strength and he wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take.
“Verbascum … there’s got to be some freaking verbascum in here.” Dean mumbled as he fervently searched the Impala’s trunk for the last ingredient he needed to cast the spell. “What good is having a geek brother when he doesn’t even keep the frigging herb collection up to date. Damn it!”
“You looking for something?”
Startled, Dean swirled around when he heard Matt’s voice behind him. Exhaling deeply, he looked at the other man. “You don’t happen to carry verbascum around with you, do you?”
Matt cocked an eyebrow at him. “No, I don’t, but I know how to get some.”
“Really?” Dean looked at him in surprise.
“Really. You care to tell me what you need it for?”
Dean hesitated a moment. “You wouldn’t believe me if I tell you I need it to kill off a few murdering dwarves, would you?”
“Murdering dwarves, huh?” Matt sighed. “Well, I’ve run into worse.” He looked intently at Dean for a moment. “You’re a hunter, aren’t you?”
Dean narrowed his eyes. “Are you?”
“Me?” He laughed. “No, far from it. But I ran into some of you during my time.”
“Really.” Dean raised a brow. “One of them ever tried to kill you?”
“Some of them.” Matt grinned. “But as you can see, I’m still here.”
Dean bit his lip as he contemplated whether to trust Matt or not.
“Look, Dean, I can’t explain why, but I’m here to help you. I’ll get you the verbascum and I can do the spell for you. I’ve had a lot of practice with these kind of things during my time.” He looked poignantly at Dean. “There is a reason these hunters were after me.”
“Are you a demon?” Dean asked tight-lipped.
Matt laughed out loud; it sounded almost bitter. “No, I’m not.” He shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t know what I am. I’ve been wandering this earth for so long … Maybe someone has come up with a name for someone like me; if so, I was never told. I’m just me.” He looked intently at Dean. “Listen, in my life, I have seen so much … and it never stops. This one time, I’d like to do something more than just watch.”
Dean didn’t know what to think. You didn’t work with something not normal. You didn’t trust some supernatural freak offering his help. That’s what his father had taught them, had drilled into them. Everything supernatural was evil. And everything evil you hunt down and kill.
Things had changed though, hadn’t they? Sam … Sam was having visions. That wasn’t normal. It wasn’t evil either. Because Sam was a lot of things, but he couldn’t be more far from being evil. He trusted Sam implicitly. Hell, since his father just took off, Sam was the one person Dean trusted most in his life.
Maybe it was okay to trust Matt too. Just this once.
He nodded slowly. “Okay.”
“Okay.” Matt smiled. “Let’s do it.”
“I would give my right hand for a glass of water.” Sam groaned.
“Yeah, me too.” John sighed.
They had been waiting for over an hour for the dwarves to come back, but there had been no sign of them.
“What do you think they’re doing with the blood?” Sam asked. “Drink it?”
John shook his head. “I don’t think so. I got a pretty close look at them; I think they use it to dye their caps.”
“You’re kidding.” Sam gasped. “That’s … that’s sick!”
“In this world, there isn’t much that can still surprise me.” John shrugged.
“Have you ever heard of these things before? Murdering dwarves living in tunnels?”
John scoffed. “No, not that I can remember. I didn’t even think dwarves where …” He stopped mid-sentence; straightening up, he looked intently across the room.
“What is it?” Sam whispered.
“I think they’re coming back.”
Anxiously, Sam and John stared at the only entrance leading into the small chamber they were in. Steps echoed through the tunnel, coming slowly closer. Sam cast a short glance at his father; he looked ready to jump at anything that dared to come close enough.
Taking a deep breath, Sam readied himself to do the same.
A long shadow fell on the floor; a moment later two men stepped into the chamber.
“I’ll be damned.” John muttered.
“What the hell?” Stan Mathers called out. “Who did this to you?”
He and Chris quickly hurried toward the Winchesters, immediately trying to open the lock. They had tools and it only took them a few moments before they had freed Sam and John.
“Thanks.” John said. “Now let’s get out of here.”
“Wait, what is going on here? Who put you in there?” Stan insisted.
“Not who, what.” John replied curtly, his eyes already searching the room for anything that could be used as a weapon.
“What?” Chris stared at him dumbfounded.
“Long story.” Sam said. He shared a quick glance with his father, then went over to Ben. One quick check of his pulse told him he was dead. “Damn!” He cursed silently, punching his fist against the wall.
“Oh my God.” Stan and Chris had now seen Ben too and stared terrified at his body. “Is he …?”
“Dead, yeah.” Sam confirmed.
“They were nice enough to leave our guns.” John pointed at a table at the far side of the room, as far away from the cages as the chamber’s size allowed. “Probably didn’t even know what it was.”
“That’s something.” Sam said quietly.
“What is going on here? Who does something like this?” Stan demanded to know. He and Chris had now spotted Roberta as well and stared horrified at her.
“Nothing you want to run into unarmed.” John growled. “Hold on to your tools, they might come in … shit!”
Several footsteps were heard in the tunnel, coming quickly closer.
“They’re coming.” Sam whispered.
“They? Who are they?” Chris asked.
“Sam, you ready?”
“Sam? You’re Sam?” Stan asked surprised.
“Yeah, why?” Both Sam and John looked at the older man suspiciously.
“I don’t believe this.” Stan shook his head in astonishment. “Your brother is looking for you. He’s one hell of a stubborn bastard.”
Sam huffed. “That he is. Where did you …”
“Hey, we don’t have time for this!” John interrupted them.
Sam nodded, hoping that no vision would come into the way this time. Ready to fight, he held up his gun; following his father’s example, he stepped in front of Stan and Chris.
“What is this? Who’s coming?” Stan asked.
He got his answer when the dwarves came running into the chamber.
TBC
Chapter 9
Stan and Chris had searched every room, but there was no sign of their friend and co-worker.
“I don’t get this. Where is he?” Chris called out frustrated. “I swear, if this is some kind of sick joke, I’m gonna kill him.”
“Eddie wouldn’t play around in a situation like this.” Stan said calmly. “Maybe he … Hey, what …? Chris, look at this!” Stan pointed at the wall across from where he was standing, lighting it with his flashlight.
“What is it?” Chris asked. A moment later he had his answer.
Astounded, he and Stan stared at a hole in the wall; a hole leading into a tunnel.
“Where in God’s name is that tunnel coming from?” Chris muttered confused. “There are no tunnels under Rosehill.”
“So we thought.” Stan replied thoughtfully. “There have been rumors …”
“You think Eddie went in there?” Chris asked.
“Without telling us about it?” Stan scratched his head. This didn’t sound like the man he knew.
“But where is he then?” Chris looked inside the tunnel. “Eddie is nowhere on this floor. This might be a way out. Maybe he went in to inspect it, make sure it was safe. Something might have happened …”
“He could be in there.” Stan held his head inside the hole and called loudly. “Eddie? EDDIE?!”
The echo of his voice was the only reply.
“He could be hurt.” Chris said quietly.
Stan nodded. “Okay, let’s check it out.”
---SPN---
He couldn’t breathe. His lungs were burning, desperate to take in air. Lights were dancing in front of his eyes; he could hear his heart pounding in the darkness and the blood rushing in his ears. Something weighty was pressing him down; he tried to push it away, but it wouldn’t move.
Breathe … he needed to breathe!
He tried to think, find an explanation for what was happening, but his mind felt thick and heavy and everything was in a haze. He tried to move, to find a way out, but his muscles felt tight and ached from the effort to escape. He was unable to fight what was holding him down.
He couldn’t breathe and he couldn’t get out!
Feeling an overwhelming, all consuming panic, he couldn’t take it anymore. He opened his mouth, wanting to scream for help, but no sound ensued. Instead he felt dirt rushing down his windpipe, into his lungs …
With a start, Sam woke up, gasping for air – a wave of relief rushed through him when he felt his lungs fill with the desperately needed oxygen. Inhaling deeply, his body slowly relaxed, reveling in the air as it coursed into his parched lungs. His hands went to his chest and stomach, searching for anything that might still hold him down, but there was nothing.
Just a dream… It had just been a bad dream.
He groaned as a pounding headache made itself known. Leaning back on the ground, Sam closed his eyes again.
Despite the nightmare, he wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep. Shivers ran down his spine. He was cold, stiff, sick and he was hurting all over. Sleep would get him away from all this, at least for a while.
“Sam?” His father’s voice pulled him back to awareness.
Groaning, Sam took another deep breath and forced his eyes open. He slowly turned in the direction of his father’s voice. He blinked confusedly when he saw John sitting in a wooden cage, blood smears on his face. It took Sam a moment longer to realize that he was trapped in a cage as well.
“You okay?” John asked; relief and worry shining in his eyes.
“I’m good.” Sam replied, not sounding very convincing. He looked at his surroundings, trying to find out where they were. Not a motel room, that was for sure. Where had he been last? The motel, and then …
It all came back suddenly, the memories flooding through his mind. “Oh shit …” He groaned.
“How’s the head?”
Right, his head. Sam’s hand went to his temple, massaging it slightly. He had suffered another vision; or not a vision, something else. He was experiencing something different from what normally plagued him, first the vision then pain.
It was all wrong and it didn’t make any sense.
“Sam?”
He looked up at his father, forcing his thoughts to stop being such a mess.
“What?” He asked, not sure what the question had been.
“Your head, how are you feeling?”
“I’ve been better.” Sam swallowed. “How are you?” He asked in return, remembering the blood on his father’s face.
“I’ve been better.” John smirked, a small smile playing on his lips.
Sam returned the smile automatically. This didn’t happen often, his father smiling. He didn’t think he had smiled once since they had met up in Manning. Except the time they had talked about having spent his college fund on ammo. They had both smiled then. He was living a strange live.
“Sam?”
“Yes. Sorry.” Sam swallowed, forcing himself to stay focused on the matter at hand. He took a few deep breaths until he was certain he could concentrate long enough to hold a whole conversation – and understand it at the same time. “What happened?” He asked. He had absolutely no recollection. The last thing he remembered was the pain in his head and his father holding him. For some reason the pain had then spread to his whole body, as if he was being punched all over, and then .. nothing.
“We were caught by dwarfs.” John growled, clearly not happy.
Sam was sure he must have misunderstood. “Dwarfs?”
“Dwarfs.”
Sam raised a brow. “Come on. Dwarfs?” He looked intently at his father, but John didn’t look like he was joking. “Dwarfs?” He repeated. “Really?”
“There were at least a dozen of them.” John explained. “And they’re fast! I couldn’t even get a good shot at one of them before they had me.” John said.
Sam still couldn’t believe it. “But … dwarfs? I mean, they’re … small. And … really? You got caught by dwarfs?”
“We got caught by dwarfs, son.” John pointed out in a low voice. “And they’re not your average, Snow White nice little dwarfs. These things are strong. And apparently they like blood.”
“Human blood?” Sam asked carefully, hoping the answer would be no. Of course he knew he wouldn’t really be that lucky.
“What do you think?” John pointed at the other side of the room.
Following the line of his father’s finger, Sam saw Ben – pinned to the wall, his arms and legs strapped to a wooden cross. His whole body was covered with deep cuts, tubes sticking out of his skin, blood running through them and collecting into a wooden tank.
“He’s unconscious, which is probably better for him.” John went on grimly. “They’ve already … tasted him.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sam asked horrified. Again, he didn’t really want to know.
John simply pointed at Ben again and upon closer observation Sam saw that a huge part of his jeans had been ripped off and … part of his flesh as well.
“Oh god, please don’t tell me …” He was pretty sure he was going to be sick.
“You slept through the best part.” John sighed frustrated.
Sam could sympathize with him. Having to watch those things “tasting” from Ben and not be able to do anything must have been pure horror. Just thinking about it made him want to throw up.
“Roberta is here too.” John whispered. He pointed at the other side of the room.
Sam saw the older woman, hanging from a cross, just like Ben. The only exception was that there was no blood running through the tubes anymore. He swallowed. “Is she dead?”
“It must have gone quick.” John replied in a hoarse voice.
“Any idea how we can get out of here?” Sam asked after a moment. He turned toward his father, avoiding the sight of Ben and Roberta. This was more than he could take at the moment.
“I already tried to break the bars, but they won’t budge. Same with the lock.” John replied gloomily.
“Great.” Feeling the urge to do something, Sam rattled the bars, but just like his father, he didn’t have any luck. “Where are they anyway?” He eventually asked.
The wide torch-lit chamber they were held in was empty except for the four full-sized humans. No dwarf could be seen anywhere.
“Probably looking for other people. Who knows how many others are trapped inside the hotel.”
“We have to warn them.” Feeling the urge to do something increase within him and ignoring his own pain, Sam once more tried the bars. This was what they did. Save people - they couldn’t just sit here and do nothing, letting others get caught and probably end up like Ben and Roberta had.
“That won’t help, Sam.” John said calmly.
“We have to do something. There has to be a way out of here.” Sam looked around the room, trying to find something he could use to break the lock, but there was nothing in the vicinity he could reach.
“Sam!” John raised his voice, ordering his son to listen.
Sam automatically went still and looked at his father.
“I have a plan.” John said quietly.
“Okay.” Sam exhaled deeply. A plan sounded good. He should have known his father had already figured out a way out of here. “What plan?”
“They’re going to take one of us out eventually. We surprise them with an attack; they’re probably not used to their prey fighting back like we can.”
Sam waited a moment, but his father didn’t go on. “That’s it?” He eventually asked exasperated.
“You have a better idea?” John asked with a raised brow.
Sam thought about it, but had to admit that he couldn’t think of anything else either. “Maybe Dean will find us before they come back.” He said weakly.
He didn’t need his father’s response to know how lame he’d just sounded.
“Okay, so we wait.” He sighed. “What about Ben?”
John swallowed. “There’s not much we can do to help him.”
Sam stayed silent, his eyes going back to the other man. He couldn’t see if he was still breathing. He hated this. All they could do was wait and watch as he slowly bled to death.
After several minutes of staring at Ben, trying to see if he was still breathing, still alive, Sam couldn’t take it anymore. He turned his head to the opposite wall … only to meet the exact same sight. A man, strapped to a cross, blood running down his body from several wounds, tubes sticking out of his skin – most likely dead. Slowly Sam let his eyes roam around the room and he now saw them everywhere. There were at least ten of them, men and women, some looking more dead than others. The scent of blood and decay reached him and he couldn’t help but retch as the scent sent his stomach churning.
“Sam?” John asked alarmed. “What’s wrong?”
Sam wanted to reply, but at that moment the pain came back with full force. He grabbed at the bars, holding onto them as if that would make the pain any less. Black dots danced in front of his eyes, but he refused to give in. He couldn’t black out now, no matter how much his head felt like exploding. If the dwarves came back now, he wouldn’t be able to fight and he wasn’t going to be the helpless victim again. He wouldn’t just let them drag him out and bind him to a cross. Before he’d wake up again, they’d have half of his blood and he would never be able to fight back. That wasn’t going to happen!
He tightened his grip on the bars, letting the hard wood cut into his palms until finally, the pain subsided. Breathing heavily, Sam let his head rest against the bars, his shoulders sagging.
“Sam?” His father’s worried voice reached him as through a haze.
“I’m o… ” Another wave of nausea rolled over him and Sam threw up the meager contents of his stomach.
Once the retching had stopped, he crawled back to the other end of the cage, breathing heavily, still having the taste of bile in his mouth. He was starting to fear this was turning into a bad habit. Wiping the sweat from his forehead, he glanced at his father. “Sorry.”
“You okay?”
Sam made a short assessment of his body before he replied. He felt worse than before. The trembling had increased, he felt cold, sick, and weak. Everything, without exception, hurt, most of all his head, which made thinking clearly a difficult task.
“No.” He shook his head and immediately regretted it. The pounding returned with a vengeance and for a moment he feared he would throw up again.
“You had another vision?” John asked carefully.
“Yeah. “ Sam replied weakly. “I saw others. Like Ben. They were everywhere. And … it was just … not good.” He choked on the words, not really able to describe what he had seen. “Why am I seeing all this? It doesn’t make any sense!” He hit the bars with his fist, hurting himself more than doing any actual damage to the wood, but welcoming the pain as a meaning to focus.
“We’ll figure it out, Sammy. First, we need to concentrate on getting out of here.”
Sam nodded, still shaking all over from the cold and his last vision. They were taking more and more of his strength and he wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take.
---SPN---
“Verbascum … there’s got to be some freaking verbascum in here.” Dean mumbled as he fervently searched the Impala’s trunk for the last ingredient he needed to cast the spell. “What good is having a geek brother when he doesn’t even keep the frigging herb collection up to date. Damn it!”
“You looking for something?”
Startled, Dean swirled around when he heard Matt’s voice behind him. Exhaling deeply, he looked at the other man. “You don’t happen to carry verbascum around with you, do you?”
Matt cocked an eyebrow at him. “No, I don’t, but I know how to get some.”
“Really?” Dean looked at him in surprise.
“Really. You care to tell me what you need it for?”
Dean hesitated a moment. “You wouldn’t believe me if I tell you I need it to kill off a few murdering dwarves, would you?”
“Murdering dwarves, huh?” Matt sighed. “Well, I’ve run into worse.” He looked intently at Dean for a moment. “You’re a hunter, aren’t you?”
Dean narrowed his eyes. “Are you?”
“Me?” He laughed. “No, far from it. But I ran into some of you during my time.”
“Really.” Dean raised a brow. “One of them ever tried to kill you?”
“Some of them.” Matt grinned. “But as you can see, I’m still here.”
Dean bit his lip as he contemplated whether to trust Matt or not.
“Look, Dean, I can’t explain why, but I’m here to help you. I’ll get you the verbascum and I can do the spell for you. I’ve had a lot of practice with these kind of things during my time.” He looked poignantly at Dean. “There is a reason these hunters were after me.”
“Are you a demon?” Dean asked tight-lipped.
Matt laughed out loud; it sounded almost bitter. “No, I’m not.” He shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t know what I am. I’ve been wandering this earth for so long … Maybe someone has come up with a name for someone like me; if so, I was never told. I’m just me.” He looked intently at Dean. “Listen, in my life, I have seen so much … and it never stops. This one time, I’d like to do something more than just watch.”
Dean didn’t know what to think. You didn’t work with something not normal. You didn’t trust some supernatural freak offering his help. That’s what his father had taught them, had drilled into them. Everything supernatural was evil. And everything evil you hunt down and kill.
Things had changed though, hadn’t they? Sam … Sam was having visions. That wasn’t normal. It wasn’t evil either. Because Sam was a lot of things, but he couldn’t be more far from being evil. He trusted Sam implicitly. Hell, since his father just took off, Sam was the one person Dean trusted most in his life.
Maybe it was okay to trust Matt too. Just this once.
He nodded slowly. “Okay.”
“Okay.” Matt smiled. “Let’s do it.”
---SPN---
“I would give my right hand for a glass of water.” Sam groaned.
“Yeah, me too.” John sighed.
They had been waiting for over an hour for the dwarves to come back, but there had been no sign of them.
“What do you think they’re doing with the blood?” Sam asked. “Drink it?”
John shook his head. “I don’t think so. I got a pretty close look at them; I think they use it to dye their caps.”
“You’re kidding.” Sam gasped. “That’s … that’s sick!”
“In this world, there isn’t much that can still surprise me.” John shrugged.
“Have you ever heard of these things before? Murdering dwarves living in tunnels?”
John scoffed. “No, not that I can remember. I didn’t even think dwarves where …” He stopped mid-sentence; straightening up, he looked intently across the room.
“What is it?” Sam whispered.
“I think they’re coming back.”
Anxiously, Sam and John stared at the only entrance leading into the small chamber they were in. Steps echoed through the tunnel, coming slowly closer. Sam cast a short glance at his father; he looked ready to jump at anything that dared to come close enough.
Taking a deep breath, Sam readied himself to do the same.
A long shadow fell on the floor; a moment later two men stepped into the chamber.
“I’ll be damned.” John muttered.
“What the hell?” Stan Mathers called out. “Who did this to you?”
He and Chris quickly hurried toward the Winchesters, immediately trying to open the lock. They had tools and it only took them a few moments before they had freed Sam and John.
“Thanks.” John said. “Now let’s get out of here.”
“Wait, what is going on here? Who put you in there?” Stan insisted.
“Not who, what.” John replied curtly, his eyes already searching the room for anything that could be used as a weapon.
“What?” Chris stared at him dumbfounded.
“Long story.” Sam said. He shared a quick glance with his father, then went over to Ben. One quick check of his pulse told him he was dead. “Damn!” He cursed silently, punching his fist against the wall.
“Oh my God.” Stan and Chris had now seen Ben too and stared terrified at his body. “Is he …?”
“Dead, yeah.” Sam confirmed.
“They were nice enough to leave our guns.” John pointed at a table at the far side of the room, as far away from the cages as the chamber’s size allowed. “Probably didn’t even know what it was.”
“That’s something.” Sam said quietly.
“What is going on here? Who does something like this?” Stan demanded to know. He and Chris had now spotted Roberta as well and stared horrified at her.
“Nothing you want to run into unarmed.” John growled. “Hold on to your tools, they might come in … shit!”
Several footsteps were heard in the tunnel, coming quickly closer.
“They’re coming.” Sam whispered.
“They? Who are they?” Chris asked.
“Sam, you ready?”
“Sam? You’re Sam?” Stan asked surprised.
“Yeah, why?” Both Sam and John looked at the older man suspiciously.
“I don’t believe this.” Stan shook his head in astonishment. “Your brother is looking for you. He’s one hell of a stubborn bastard.”
Sam huffed. “That he is. Where did you …”
“Hey, we don’t have time for this!” John interrupted them.
Sam nodded, hoping that no vision would come into the way this time. Ready to fight, he held up his gun; following his father’s example, he stepped in front of Stan and Chris.
“What is this? Who’s coming?” Stan asked.
He got his answer when the dwarves came running into the chamber.
TBC