Stalking Horse - Chapters 5 - 8

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STALKING HORSE
Chapters 5 - 8

Chapter 5

Sam's breath caught in his throat. "It all makes sense," he whispered.

Bobby looked at him quizzically.

"Horse," said Sam, "ever since I got him out of the lake, practically the only word he's said has been 'horse'", he scraped a hand through his hair, "I thought he was saying it because he was frightened it would come back - but he's saying it because he's frightened he won't see it again."

Bobby nodded.

"We've got to kill this thing," Sam blurted, loudly enough to cause his sleeping brother to shift in the bed.

"There's something else you ought to know", whispered Bobby.

Sam stared at him, wiping his tearing eyes.

"He won't just sit back and wait for it to come to him; he's gonna try and get back to it", Bobby continued, "We can try to keep him on lockdown, but your brother is a regular Houdini at the best of times".

"He'll stop at nothing to find it again. And I mean - nothing". The hidden meaning of that phrase wasn't lost on Sam.

xxxxx

They both turned as they heard a hoarse groan; Dean was sitting up in the bed.

Sam's face softened, along with his voice, "Hey, bro' how ya doin'?"

Dean stared at him as if he didn't understand the question; he rubbed his chest and gave a hollow cough.

"Coffee?" prompted Sam, hopefully.

Dean shook his head absently, his gaze never quite meeting Sam's.

xxxxx

Sam and Bobby took the opportunity while Dean was in the bathroom to discuss their options;

"If we head over to the lake to finish this thing off, what do we do with Dean?" Bobby speculated, "we can't take him, he'd be a liability - to us and to himself".

Sam thought aloud, "cuff him in the room?"

"Nah, we might be gone hours, even overnight", Bobby continued, "we can't leave him tied up with no food or drink."

"What about sleeping tablets?" Sam suggested, "we can take him with us, so we can keep an eye on him, but keep him drugged up?"

Bobby scratched his head under his hat and sighed heavily, "I don't know, son," he took a long sip on his coffee, "I don't know what to think".

Sam put his coffee cup down abruptly. "I know what I think"; a note of alarm sharpening his voice, "I think he's been a heck of a long time in there". They both stared at the bathroom door, then turned to each other.

Sam tapped on the door, "You ok in there, Dean?" No response was forthcoming. "Dean, answer me or I'm coming in."

Still silence.

"Right, I hope you're decent - I'm coming in."

He tried the handle, but the door was locked; he turned to Bobby whose face was pale with dread.

Stepping back, he lunged, shoulder-first towards the door, tearing it from it's hinges with a hollow, untidy crash. Stumbling over the wreckage into the bathroom, he scanned the room through drifting dust, pulling back the shower curtain. The room was empty.

His eyes fixed on the window which hung open, it's hinges unscrewed. An upturned waste basket stood on the floor beneath it; a makeshift step up to the window.

Sam and Bobby stared, mute with horror.

"Where the hell is he?" croaked Sam, tears of panic and anger welling in his eyes.

"I dunno", replied Bobby, "but I know where he's damn well' going." He sighed; "I guess that's our decision made for us then …"

xxxxx

Bobby and Sam slammed the door to the room behind them. "We'll take my truck," Bobby shouted to Sam, noticing that the Impala was still parked where the Winchesters had left it before the whole nightmare started. "It's still got my Forestry Authorities badge and all my gear in it".

"Got the harness and the repelling charms?" he yelled as he climbed in the drivers side.

Sam slid into the passenger side and noticed a stack of wrought iron rods laying across the back of the cab. He turned to Bobby and his eyes asked the question.

Bobby stared at him, "well, let's just say the park authorities back home are probably wondering where their gate is right now!" He shrugged apologetically, and Sam managed a ghost of a smile.

xxxxx

The truck screeched to a dusty halt on the maintenance track where it had picked up two damp, shivering Winchesters less than 24 hours before. Sam tumbled, rather than climbed out of the cab and dashed towards the clearing, with Bobby following, surprisingly fleet of foot for an older man.

When they reached the clearing, it was deserted; no sign of any life; faerie, Winchester or otherwise.

"What do we do now?" asked Sam.

"You tell me, boy", Bobby panted, "we wait and see what happens."

xxxxx

The hours passed, Sam and Bobby sat on the edge of the lake close to the clearing. Bobby stared sympathetically at the agitated younger man.

"Will ya sit still, boy, ya look like ya got the DT's"

"Where is he, Bobby?" Sam pleaded, "Why isn't he here?" He stood up abruptly, "We should be out looking for him, not sittin' here like a pair of useless lumps."

Bobby pulled him down by the hem of his shirt, "sit y'ass down" he scolded, "I don' know where he is; the same as I didn't know where he was las' time ya asked ten minutes ago". He laid a hand tenderly on Sam's back, he knew the younger Winchester was perilously close to the edge. "We hafta stay here. If we go off looking for him, he's gonna turn up here and no-ones's gonna be here to pull his ass out of that lake!"

Sam looked at Bobby. He knew the older man was talking sense and nodded slowly, chewing his lip to hold back the tears.

Dusk had begun to fall and the sky around the lake had taken on a pink tinge as the shadows began to lengthen. Sam shivered and pulled his shirt collar up around his neck.

"I'm goin' to the truck to get my jacket", he muttered, "d'y need anything?" He turned to look at Bobby when no response was forthcoming.

Bobby was staring out over the lake; Sam's eyes followed his gaze.

The Kelpie's liquid eyes stared back at them.

xxxxx

It stood in the lake in about the same spot where the brothers had seen it before, it's sublime gaze fixed on Sam and Bobby, the hazy, pink tinge of the sky colouring it's iron grey flanks to a softer, dove-grey; the constant trickle of water from it's flaxen mane foaming the water around it's legs. Sam's hand reflexively shot to his breast pocket and he felt the little pouch that would protect him from it's influence.

"What do we do now?" he whispered to Bobby; Bobby spoke without taking his eyes off the Kelpie, "I've got no friggin' idea!"

Sam twitched as he heard a snap of a twig behind him, and turned abruptly to see Dean standing behind them, the now familiar look of utter blankness on his face. Sam reflected sadly; that was Dean's face, but that wasn't Dean behind it.

"Oh, thank God, dude", he sighed, "we were worried sick."

He moved to hug his brother, but Dean stepped around him without even acknowledging him, staring unblinkingly at the Kelpie, a gentle smile playing on his lips, as he walked slowly towards the waters edge.

Bobby's head spun around between staring at Dean and staring at the Kelpie as it stood in the lake. It pawed at the lake's bed, and gave a soft snort.

"It's calling to him!" Bobby shouted, "ya gotta stop him …"

"Dean!" Sam called, running after his brother, "come back dude, lets talk about this." Dean carried on walking, entering the water once he had reached the edge of the lake.

"DEAN!" Sam raced after his brother, and grabbed him round the middle, dragging him bodily out of the water; "Dude, you gotta snap out of it!" his voice was muffled against his brother's hair.

Dean struggled in his brother's strong arms, his struggles violent enough to cause them both to overbalance in the shallow waters at the lakes edge. As they tumbled down, Sam caught sight of his brother's face glaring across at him; it was twisted in hatred and Sam's heart froze when he saw it.

Dean managed to shake off Sam's grip and began crawling forward into deeper water, Sam staggered after him, and grabbed him under the arms, pulling him back toward the bank, Dean screamed; a raw, inhuman howl of anger; writhing and twisting furiously in his brother's arms. An elbow caught Sam in the jaw and loosened his grip enough to allow Dean to slip free.

Bobby watched with horror and began to wade clumsily toward the brothers.

Sam reached out, clutching Dean's shoulder and pulled him back into a body hug, but Dean twisted before Sam could complete the manoeuvre and landed a vicious head-butt straight into Sam's face. Scarlet droplets peppered the icy water as Sam staggered backwards clutching his fractured nose. Bobby tried to grasp Dean's arm, but received an elbow in the throat for his trouble, staggering backwards, Bobby ended up on his ass at the lake's edge.

Striding towards Sam, Dean threw a violent punch, this time hitting Sam square in the bread basket. Sam doubled over with a hoarse grunt, dropping to his knees; still groping frantically through the a haze of blood and tears to grasp his brother's flailing arms.

The Kelpie simply stood silent and aloof watching the altercation with gently detached interest, it's flaxen lashes fluttered slowly in a lazy blink.

"P-please …" Sam sobbed, trying to reach the brother he knew was there within that mindless shell.

"Plea…" Dean grabbed his throat harshly and forced him down, and down … pushing his head under the frigid water.

Bobby watched in horror as Sam's body thrashed and convulsed as Dean held him with unnatural strength, his face a mask of placid disinterest.

Sam felt his lungs constrict as the freezing water burned his skin. Clawing at his throat and fighting with all his waning strength to lift his head, his hot tears mingled with the icy water - his life was slipping away and it was by the hand of the brother he adored that it would end; that knowledge was more than he could bear.

Suddenly he felt the grip loosen, and a heavy weight splash limply into the water beside him. He scrambled up out of the water retching and gasping wetly for air, and saw the unconscious body of his brother laying in the water at his feet ...

Bobby stood over him holding a wrought iron rod in the manner of a baseball bat.

"I-I didn't know what else to do …" he gasped.

Xxxxx

Chapter 6

 

Bobby and Sam dragged Dean's unconscious form out of the water, laying him out on the loose shale at the lake's edge. Darkness was descending rapidly, only the faintest amber glow over the peaks of the mountains now illuminated the three shivering figures and Sam could feel rather than see the impressive lump that had already erupted on the back of his brother's head. He ran his fingers through the wet hair and examined his hand – it was too dark to tell whether the resulting stain was mud, or blood.

Sam looked up at Bobby, "thanks Bobby", he whispered wetly, still coughing and wheezing through his swollen, bloody nose.

"Kid, if I could have helped you any other way than this, I would have!" Bobby's voice cracked and Sam knew that this was one of the hardest things the older man had ever had to do.

"Bobby, I know how you feel about Dean," Sam looked at Bobby who was struggling to hold himself together, and squeezed the older man's shoulder; "he's like a son to you, and I know how that would have hurt you …"

The two men huddled around Dean's inert body.

"That sonofabitch has gone" Bobby muttered, scanning the lake.

"It'll be back at dawn," mumbled Sam, his gaze never leaving Dean's face, now barely visible through the gloom.

Sam felt a blanket being laid across his soaked back, and he pulled Dean up close to wrap it round the both of them. He looked across at Bobby, wrapping himself in a blanket, and deliberately sitting a little way apart from them to give the boys some privacy.

Sam cradled his brother to his chest and rested his throbbing forehead against his brother's, trying to rest his stinging eyes.

xxxxx

"SAM!"

Sam's eyes fluttered open in confused wakefulness. He gasped as a spike of pain shot through his head, "SAM!" A hand shook him roughly, causing the pain to burst in little specks of light before his unfocussed eyes.

"B-Bobby?"

"Sam, LOOK!"

Sam looked to where Bobby was pointing and his heart stood still.

The Kelpie stood on the bank of the moonlit lake; the first time they had seen it out of the water. It was barely an impala's length away from them.

Surrounded by a faintly phosphorescent glow, it stood out in soft relief against the night, the trickling of the constant stream of water down it's neck the only sound Sam could hear as it stood motionless, regarding them casually; it's eyes never leaving them.

Sam clutched his brother tightly as he felt him start to stir.

Something in the Kelpie's demeanour had changed; it's ears lay back flat against it's skull and it's soft brown eyes had taken on an unfamiliar hardness as it stared, rather than gazed at them.

Sam scrambled back, away from the hauntingly beautiful figure, dragging Dean with him.

"It knows we won't let him go to it, so it's coming for him" gasped Bobby, squinting through the darkness. Sam nodded mutely as Dean began to fidget, dazed eyes fluttering as he tried to focus his vision on the glowing shape before him.

The Kelpie took a step towards them. It's pale hooves moving on the wet gravel with barely a sound. It gave a harsh snort from flattened nostrils, and tossed it's head aggressively, a fine spray of water from it's flailing mane creating a crystalline mist around it.

Sam managed to find his feet. He hoisted Dean inelegantly under the armpits and dragged him back to join Bobby beside the truck.

Dean's eyes latched onto the Kelpie's and he began to squirm weakly against Sam's grip.

"We can't fight him as well as that thing!" snapped Bobby, gesturing to Sam's struggling brother; guessing that now was likely to be his only chance before Dean regained something approaching his full strength, he grabbed Dean firmly by the wrist and pulled him away from Sam.

"Bobby? What the hell?" cried Sam,

"Sorry kid, it's for the best!"

Sam heard a click as Bobby, gripping a still dazed Dean across the chest, snapped a handcuff around his wrist with surprising dexterity. He looped the chain around the truck's door frame, and spun the bewildered Winchester around snapping the other cuff behind him on his other wrist.

Sam gaped as Bobby stepped away from Dean, his arms secured behind him; handcuffed to the truck.

xxxxx

Dean took a few seconds to realize his predicament, then he threw his head back and howled; a terrifying cry of rage – he lunged at Bobby, the cuffs painfully jerking his arms behind him; he tried again, screaming in anguish, ignoring the pain spiking through his shoulders and the burning of the metal cuffs around his wrists, he writhed and convulsed like a wild animal trying to escape a snare.

Hot tears streamed down Sam's face as his body shook with fear and anger; the sheer terror of seeing his brother tearing himself apart to meet his doom and the blind fury at the cause of it all; this sublime creature that was slowly inching towards them.

His fury turned into insane resolve and he lunged at the Kelpie, hurling one of their protective pouches at it. It staggered backwards with a snort as the leather pouch hit it's neck and burst, shaking it's head in distress. Sam took the opportunity and rushed, throwing his entire weight at it, totally deaf to Bobby's shocked yell; driven by Dean's desperate wails and his own rage.

He slammed into it's silken, ice-cold body, long arms grasping it's neck and long, slippery handfuls of mane. It reared in shock, dragging Sam's feet off the ground, but he maintained his grip, using his not insubstantial weight to wrestle it back down.

He gritted his teeth, ignoring the bucking and plunging of the creature, twisting it's neck, down and down, pressing his full weight harder and harder into it. It squealed and hissed, forelegs splaying under the Sam's weight, hindquarters stamping and kicking, but unable to keep purchase on the loose gravel.

Dean howled and sobbed as he thrashed wildly against the handcuffs, reaching out towards the Kelpie's tormented cries for help; blood staining his wrists and pooling in his palms as the tug of the metal cuffs cut and tore his wrists.

Bobby rushed to join Sam "It's vulnerable on land," he yelled breathlessly; "it's out of it's element!" The combined weight of the two men forced the weakened creature's elegant head onto the ground. Sam slammed a knee onto it's throat.

"Bobby, NOW!"

Bobby produced the harness and worked it over the creature's muzzle, cursing as it's head slammed into the ground crushing his hand; he roughly pulled the webbing into in place, and buckled the strap tightly over the back of it's neck. The Kelpie whittered sadly and closed it's beautiful eyes as if accepting the shame of defeat.

Sam gripped the noseband of the harness, he snarled through gritted teeth … "Let my brother go you sonofabitch!"

The creature gave a laboured wheeze and it's long lashes lifted; it gazed up at him, liquid eyes white rimmed with fear, and for just one short moment, Sam's heart sank as he felt the merest hint of compassion for it.

It gave another snort, it's body heaving in defeated despair.

A final long breath melted into a gurgle as the creature's entire body dissolved into a mass of water, sending Sam crashing face-down to the ground in the midst of an ice-cold torrent.

xxxxx

Bobby squinted through the moonlight at Sam, sprawled inelegantly in a massive puddle of water, Sam returned his gaze. Both men stunned into silence by what had just happened.

Bobby returned to his senses with a shake of the head, offering his hand to help Sam up and they both ran over to the limp figure slumped against the dented and bloodsmeared door of the truck, his arms twisted grotesquely behind his back.

Sam crouched down beside his brother. "Dean …?" he spoke softly. The hanging head twitched slightly with a quiet moan.

Bobby leaned over Sam, watching the younger Winchester as he tried again, this time gently ruffling his brother's hair, taking care to avoid the tender spot where Bobby had dropped him with the wrought iron bar earlier.

"Dean …?"

This time the head lifted wearily, unfocussed eyes gazed up at Sam.

"Sam, s'at you?"

xxxxx

Chapter 7

"Sam, s'at you?"

Sam stifled an involuntary sob as his brother spoke his name, "Yeah, dude, it's me" he smiled tearfully, rubbing Dean's back. "Everything's fine now, man; it's all over!"

Bobby grinned, "C'mon boy, let's get you out of those bracelets!"

Sam soothed his brother while Bobby unlocked the cuffs one by one cringing as the metal separated wetly from raw, bloody flesh causing the elder brother to cry out.

Once the cuffs were gone, Dean grunted hoarsely as his battered shoulders took the weight of his arms, gingerly bringing his forearms up across his chest trying to find the most comfortable place to nurse his torn wrists, and discovering there wasn't one.

Dean looked up at Sam, "Y-you're shiv'rin", he grasped Sam's shirt, "an' soaked …"

"Long story, dude!" smiled Sam.

Dean turned to Bobby, wide-eyed, and received a warm smile. "C'mon y'idjit, we need to get our asses back to the motel and get a hot drink down our necks!"

Sam and Bobby helped Dean to his feet, and the three men, exhausted, bruised and shivering, stumbled back to the truck.

xxxxx

The motel door opened and the weary Winchester brothers limped into the room, followed by Bobby. Sam sat Dean at the kitchen table and squatted down to look at his wrists.

The light of the motel room highlighted the full extent of the ugly damage. Sam gagged at the sight.

Dean looked at his wrists in queasy dismay then looked up at Sam.

"Hey, bro' we need to get these cleaned up!" Sam said, far more cheerfully than he felt.

Sam felt strong hands grip his shoulders, and spin him in the direction of the bathroom. "Ya ain't doin' nothin' before ya have a hot shower an' a hot drink – you're damned freezin'"

Sam protested; "But, Bobby, what about …"

"What about nuthin'?" Bobby scolded, "ya shiverin' so hard, you'll hurt him more than you'll help him." Sam's indignant glare twitched into a smile. "I'll sort out his wrists … now GIT!"

Sam glanced at Dean who was looking up at him smugly. "Yeah – go on, GIT!" the elder Winchester teased in a plausible impression of Bobby.

Sam grinned, "Bite me!" he mouthed.

Dean looked at his brother's bloodied, bruised nose and swollen, darkening eyes, "Ugh, no thanks – damaged goods!" he smiled, but the smile didn't run deep. Deep down, he knew that he was responsible for that damage and that knowledge tore him to pieces.

Bobby filled a bowl with warm water and poured a generous amount of pungent antiseptic into the bowl, turning the water milky. He distracted Dean from his unhappy thoughts when he placed the bowl on the table in front of him.

"Okay son, get ya wrists in there."

Bobby tenderly lifted Dean's left forearm, taking the weight so his shoulder didn't have to, and lowered it into the water.

The antiseptic stung murderously on the open wound and Dean used all his self-control not to cry out. He knew to do so would have Sam dashing out of his warm shower to check on him, and that's where the kid needed to be right now, warm and comfortable and taking care of himself, not out here panicking over something he couldn't help.

Dean opened his eyes to see Bobby crouched down next to him looking square in his pain tightened, sweat-beaded face.

"Okay kid?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah" gasped Dean breathlessly.

"Ready for the other one?" asked Bobby.

Dean took a deep breath, "Yeah, as I'll ever be!"

Bobby gently lifted Dean's right forearm, and placed it in the water.

Dean buried his face in his shoulder to prevent Bobby seeing his agony as the antiseptic stung and burned the raw wound.

Dean felt Bobby gently splashing the warm water over the backs of his wrists to ensure that both wounds were fully cleaned.

He turned to the older man, "what about your hand?" he asked, looking at Bobby's grazed, swollen fingers, a dark bruise blossoming across them.

"Ah, nuthin' much – just got a bit squashed earlier on." He carried on rinsing Deans wrists, and realized Dean was still staring at the back of his hand.

"It ain't broken or nuthin', I've had worse in the yard – so quit ya worryin'!"

Dean smiled up at him, still not convinced.

Bobby tenderly lifted Dean's wrists out of the bowl and carefully laid them on a clean pillow case he found in the room's stash of spare linen. Using it to dab them dry, as gently as he could, he finished the job by bandaging each wrist, carefully and neatly. Dean admired his work, "thanks Florence, great job!" Bobby gestured to slap him round the side of the head.

They both turned on hearing the shattered bathroom door creak as Sam stepped out. Dean's tortured shoulders reminded him sharply that they weren't going to be tolerating any kind of movement for the forseeable future, and he let out an involuntary yelp.

Sam was at his side in a moment.

"Shoulders are just a bit stiff, no problem," grunted Dean, his hunched posture speaking volumes about exactly how 'just a bit stiff' they were.

After a much needed hot coffee, Bobby got up and stretched, "think I'll turn in guys!" he yawned and headed towards the door. The brothers looked at each other. "Where ya goin' Bobby?" asked Dean.

"Goin' sleep in the truck – give ya both some space!" announced Bobby, gathering up his things.

"No way" both brothers snorted in unison, "you deserve a night in a warm, comfortable bed as well as anyone tonight!" Sam added.

Bobby glanced at the room's two beds, and back at the Winchesters.

"We can share!" said Sam, "It's not like we're strangers or anythin'!"

"Yeah, Bobby," Dean smiled mischieviously, "only, you haven't let him eat any burritos today, have you?"

Bobby laughed.

"Cos, if you have, you can share with him – I'll sleep in the truck!"

Sam scowled and drilled a bent knuckle into his brother's tender shoulder.

"Owww … bitch!"

Bobby smiled and dropped his cap on the bed; "morons!" he chuckled.

xxxxx

Sam switched off the bathroom light and climbed into the bed beside his brother.

"G'night Bobby…" he murmured.

"G'night boys … " came Bobby's gruff voice, muffled by the blankets.

Silence settled over the room.

"G'night John-Boy …" Dean's voice broke the silence.

"Idjit…!"

Just as he had the terrible night of the Kelpie encounter, Sam wrapped a long arm around Dean's chest, tugging him in tight. To Sam's almost unbearable relief, unlike last time, Dean's body wormed backwards, moulding and curling into the warm, comforting presence of his brother's chest.

xxxxx

Bobby lay in the darkness staring at the ceiling. He was deeply touched by the Winchesters' concern for him and their kindness. He loved these boys as he would his own sons, but he was also a realist. He knew they had bridges to build after the recent terrible events and he was determined to give them the privacy to do that.

As the first light of dawn crept across the room, he slipped out of the bed. Glancing across to the other bed, he saw an untidy mop of dark hair spread across the pillow, of the older Winchester, who appeared to have been completely overpowered by both quilt and brother, the only visible sign was a bare foot hanging off the end of the bed.

Bobby scribbled a short note and left quickly, closing the door silently behind him with a fond smile.

xxxxx

Chapter 8

 

Sam stirred, and rolled over with a yawn. He stretched lavishly and almost punched his soundly sleeping brother in the side of the head.

It wasn't until he sat up, rubbing swollen, tender eyes that he noticed the other bed was empty.

Dean woke a few moments later to find Sam sitting at the table reading Bobby's note which talked about a pick-up job and having a lot of work down at the yard.

They didn't believe a word of it.

They knew exactly why Bobby had left them and they respected him all the more for it.

xxxxx

Sam made coffee and toast and the brothers sat at the table in content silence as they enjoyed their breakfast.

Dean put his coffee cup down, even the small weight of the mug elicited a pained wince. He looked down at the table.

"I'm sorry Sammy."

Sam looked at him, nonplussed, "what for?"

"I did some terrible, unforgivable things; I hurt Bobby, I hurt you - jeez, I tried to kill you!"

Sam shook his head, and reached out to grasp his brother's hand. "You didn't; that thing did all that bad stuff." He stared intently into Dean's eyes, noticing the tears welling there, "Dean, you know as well as anyone, all about being possessed".

"That's the thing," whispered Dean, leaning close into Sam, "I wasn't possessed, I was completely lucid the whole time - I can remember everything". He scrubbed a hand over his face, "I remember that if Bobby hadn't crowned me with that iron bar, you wouldn't be sitting here having this conversation. I would have drowned you and not given it a second thought."

"Bobby's warned us before about faerie magic," said Sam, "it's freakin' old and freakin' dangerous - that's what he always says" smiled Sam, "Either way, it wasn't your fault".

"I can't describe it," muttered Dean, "the raw need, the overpowering desire to be close to that thing; I don't think there's a word to describe it". Sam let Dean continue; "It's like, like waving a bloody steak in front of a starving dog or sailing a yacht to a drowning man, only ten - a hundred times stronger."

Sam didn't interrupt, he just listened; Dean took a long, deep breath and Sam knew that whatever he was about to say was going to be painful for him.

"When that thing dragged me down under the water, I struggled and fought because that was my body's natural reaction. But when you dived in and pulled me out, took me away from it…" Dean's voice trembled and he stared down at the table, "I hated you for doing it."

He looked up at Sam; a picture of abject misery.

"I know now", he added, "those guys that got killed and eaten - the twelve missing dudes … they weren't taken; they went willingly."

He picked up his empty mug and fiddled absently with it.

"Listen Dean," Sam stared at Dean, "I don't care if you were or weren't possessed, I don't care if you were or weren't hypnotised, or mesmerised or friggin' pasteurised. I don't care if it was faerie magic or demon magic, or some ass pullin' a white rabbit out of a hat. All I know is you weren't in your right mind, so don't ask me to forgive you because there's nothing to forgive. Understand me?"

Dean stared at Sam for the longest time before a broad and genuine grin spread across his face.

"Okay, Bitch; whatever you say. How can I argue with a speech like that?"

xxxxx

Sam helped his brother shower and dress; the pain in his shoulders limiting his movement to an almost comical degree. They gave up trying slip his T shirt on when it became obvious he couldn't lift his arms more than a few inches, and so he just settled for a loose button-down shirt.

"We should get going". Dean announced, from his position sitting on the bed watching Sam clean up the breakfast things.

"Where?" asked Sam.

"Dunno!"

" Why don't we just rest up here;" asked Sam, "neither of us is up to travelling right now, it's beautiful, and we can relax and enjoy it now."

Dean pondered for a moment, "I don' know Sam, it's kinda lost it's appeal to me", he sighed, "a maneating, nutjob faerie horse with mind scrambling powers and a vindictive streak tends to do that to a place for me!"

Sam burst out laughing, holding his tender nose as he chuckled and snorted. Dean couldn't help but join him, but flinched violently as the laughter jolted his shoulders.

"Hey, you OK man?" asked Sam, the laughter leaving his voice rapidly.

Dean grimaced, "freakin' shoulders feel like I've been bench pressin' the Impala - I c'n hardly move." He sighed miserably, "I think you may be right about stayin', there's no way I can drive like this".

He shuffled back on the bed to lean against the headboard, wincing pitifully with every laboured move. Sam raised his eyebrows and had to turn away to keep from smiling.

"I can't watch this a moment longer!" Sam stood at the foot of the bed, hands on hips, "it's like watching someone kick puppies!"

Dean looked affronted.

"Get your shirt off."

Dean's eyebrows shot into his fringe. "What the hell?"

"I wanna see if I can help ease it."

Dean looked nervous, "How?"

"Trust me."

Dean's eyes narrowed suspiciously, "Sammy …"

"Stop bein' a woman, an' get your shirt off!"

Dean fumbled clumsily with the buttons of his shirt, eyeing Sam suspiciously, as he slowly slipped it off over his shoulders taking care not to catch the gauze around his wrists.

"Roll over - on your front."

Dean briefly stared at Sam as if he had gone stark raving mad, but slowly eased himself down, and rolled onto his belly with a groan, arranging himself in the least uncomfortable position he could find.

He lay, face buried in the pillow feeling very vulnerable with Sam looming over his bare back.

"You're not gonna put a snail on my back are you?"

"Don't be such a girl!" Sam grinned as he remembered his propensity for tormenting Dean when they were younger; the episode with the spider in the swimming shorts was, to Sam's mind, one if his finest moments.

He gently laid his hands on Dean's tense shoulders.

"Gonna give you a massage"

Dean looked up in astonishment, twisting to see if Sam was joking, or about to play some hideous joke involving ice or frogs or itching powder. He grunted as his shoulders protested at the movement.

Sam pushed him down gently.

"Chill out man", he grinned, " Jess used to suffer really bad tension in her shoulders when we were studying – she taught me one or two tricks …"

"I don't wanna know about the other ones" mumbled Dean into the pillow.

"'fraid I don't have any aromatherapy oils like Jess used to have, you'll have to make do with moisturing lotion.

"You use moisturiser?"

"Dean, it's the 21st century, a lot of men do".

"Not REAL men".

"Yeah, well. Just 'cause I don't wanna walk around looking like I eat furniture for fun, doesn't make me any less of a man than you!"

Sam laid his hands on Dean's shoulders, ignoring his brother's slight flinch and began to gently knead the tense muscles; his strong fingers working the hard, twisted knots he felt there.

Dean seemed to dissolve deeper and deeper into the mattress as Sam's confident hands slid firmly up and down his spine, moving with the rhythmic rise and fall of his brother's back, working across his shoulders in sweeping circular strokes, alternating between feather light and heavily firm.

Sam finished by running his thumb and forefinger up and down the back of his brother's neck and along the tops of his much more relaxed shoulders before leaning over and whispering, "how's that feel bro'?"

Zzzzzzz …

"That good huh?"

xxxxx

It was three days before either of them felt up to moving on. During that time, Sam had heard whisperings of a possible job in Seattle, and so they packed up and put the natural splendour, great food and warm welcome of White Lake behind them with very mixed feelings.

Dean had ingraciously permitted Sam to drive owing to his fragile, healing wrists and the lingering, but much improved, stiffness in his shoulders.

The Impala had been on the road for less than five minutes when Dean spoke up abruptly.

"Dude, stop the car!"

Sam looked at him in alarm, "what's wrong man, you gonna hurl?"

"No!" Dean barked, "jus' stop the friggin' car."

Sam pulled over.

Dean opened the door and stepped out of the Impala. Sam followed him, concern driving his movements, "What's wrong man?"

Dean hushed him and scanned the deserted road; only featureless fields on either side.

"Don' know, jus' … well, jus' a feeling"

Sam looked at him, perplexed.

In one of the fields, two horses stood beside the fence, Dean strode toward them.

The two horses looked up from their grazing, and the darker of the two ambled over to Dean.

Sam's jaw slowly dropped in astonishment.

The horse was a barrel-chested dapplegrey, it's pale mane and tail fluttered in the breeze. Dean smiled as it nuzzled his body, huffing and snorting, and almost pushing him over.

"Hey, steady, dude!" laughed Dean, "hands - er - head off the merchandise!"

He bent down to rip up a handful of grass and fed it to the friendly animal, teasing it's peach soft muzzle and running hands through it's coarse forelock, as it gazed at him through soft brown eyes fringed with pale lashes.

It was wearing a green fabric harness. Sam's heart froze as he approached and recognised the 'Harpers' Saddlery' badge.

Dean ignord him, gently rubbing the horse's ear, whispering to it as it nuzzled and fussed him.

After a few moments, the horse stepped away, tossing it's head briefly, it turned and trotted back to it's companion.

Dean stood leaning on the fence, smiling as the two horses once again stood side by side, whittering in pure contentment. He turned when he realised Sam was standing beside him.

"What was all that about?" Sam asked.

Dean turned to him; "He said thanks."

Sam stared at him. "Was that …?"

"Yeah." Dean smiled as the two horses looked up from their grazing and playfully butted heads.

"He thanked us". Dean turned to Sam with a look of sheer joy.

"He didn't say words, but I knew exactly what he was telling me." he glanced back at the horses, "he was cold and lonely and frightened, until you released him from the enchantment."

Sam looked at the two horses, "you heard him calling you?"

Dean thought for a moment, "Felt. Him calling me."

Dean turned to Sam. "That's his brother - they missed each other so much it broke their hearts …"

The two brothers leaned lazily on the fence and watched the two brothers grazing happily in the afternoon sunlight.

Dean's fingertips strayed onto his brother's wrist.

xxxxx

end

 

Comments

[borgmama1of5.livejournal.com]

Enjoyed this case story a lot! Great brother angst, and nice twist at the end :)

[dizzojay.livejournal.com]

Hey thre, I'm really glad you enjoyed - I love horses, and so really enjoyed writing this one!