Chapter 4
(warning this part contains scenes of violence and course language. You will also witness the beginning of Sam and Dean's personal issue with each other since Sam's return from hell)
Sam and Dean made it back to the motel they checked into, just as the sun was setting along the horizon. The air was dry yet damp very irritable, much like their failed attempt to connect with a strange young mechanic. For the first time since he’d accepted this case, cursing to himself bitterly while stepping out of the impala, Dean felt like he’d abandoned his “hunter’s code of conduct”: “Saving people, hunting things…the family business.”
But Sam had reminded him the whole time, “We can’t help her unless she wants our help.” This indication seemed to bruise Dean’s pride more than he expected. After that conversation with Kay Forster, the brothers were determined to figure out what was going on with her.
While the boys were about to settle in for the night, Sam was surfing on his laptop researching possible disturbances in the area until some enlightening info came to his attention.
“Dean, listen to this,” he called to his older brother, who was busily scraping shaving cream off his 1:00 shadow with a razor. “It says here there have been several cases of abnormal behavior occurring throughout different parts of the city. People suddenly just snapping, experiencing unusual violent outbursts, suicide attempts. Doesn’t that strike you as bizarre?”
“Yah if you’re a psychotic mental patient in a psych ward,” Dean lashed from in the lit bathroom. “Where are you going with this Sam? I mean how’s this even connected to Kay at all?”
Sam sighed, scratching his head. “I don’t know. But instead of just trying to figure out what we’re dealing with, I thought I’d check for any supernatural activity. Kay said it was like something was channeling into her body…don’t you think this might be a good place to start?”
Dean poked his head from the bathroom scrutinizing his younger but taller brother. “How is a bunch of crazies suddenly snapping their twig, a good lead in any of this?”
“Because maybe if they’re suffering from the same side-effects as Kay, we might be able to understand what’s hurting her.”
Dean rolled his green eyes staring back at his robust reflection covered in shaving cream. “Either that or we’re starting to suck with women! I don’t know about myself but how the hell did she manage resisting that puppy-dog eyes thing you do? Even for you that was the worst I’ve ever seen you strike out.”
Sam lifted his eyes towards the bathroom, frowning. “Dean this isn’t a popularity contest, we’re talking about an innocent girl’s life here! So do me a favor…don’t bring your personal problems into this okay.”
Like a bullet exiting his colt, something inside Dean exploded at the mention of the word “personal problems”, which was a subject he was in no mood to discus. “You got something to say to me Sammy?” he shuffled towards his brother combatively. “Cause if you got something to say then let’s hear it!”
Sam expression was drained of sentiment, reforming into annoyance. “I’m not getting into this with you Dean. Not tonight… and definitely not while we’re on a case.”
“Ah that’s a load of crap and you know it! All this time trying to use this case as an excuse, pretending like the last four months haven’t been…” he shook his head scowling. “But you can’t fool me…”
“Dean, I said I didn’t want to talk about this!” his voice was scolding.
“To hell with what you want! I’ve been rattled up in your shit for too long and I’m tired of it Sam.” Dean could feel his blood pressure rising in his face, nostrils flaring. “I’m tired of the silent treatments and frequent brooding episodes! As far as I’m concerned you’re the only poster boy for personal problems here Sammy.”
Sam’s jaw clenched tightly, bluish eyes glazing. “Is that what you keep telling yourself…every time you think of Lisa throwing you out?”
“I’m about two seconds away from kicking your ass.”
“Go ahead! Cause no matter what it won’t change anything that happened!” Sam paused, struggling to cool himself off. “Nobody forced me to say “Yes” Dean, I made that choice… You think it doesn’t bother me every time I’m around you…remembering what I…what he did…”
“It wasn’t you.”
“I almost killed you Dean… and I can never get passed it…so I’m trying… very hard to avoid it,” He swallowed hard, rubbing the tension off his beat-red face. “I know you can’t understand that now but what I’m going through… I’m not ready to share this burden with anyone.”
Before Dean could say something, Sam grabbed his beige jacket off the bed and stormed out the room. He needed time to walk off steam, he was entitled to it after the hell he went through over four months ago. Touching the contours of his face set Dean backwards in time to when Lucifer almost beat him to death, wearing his brother’s body. He remembered the searing pain of his bones crunching upon impact of the devil’s fist. Dean’s face was completely shattered and bloody…until Castiel healed him with his new angel mojo.
He wanted to talk to someone, and he needed it to be her. Flipping open his cell phone he punched in Lisa’s number.
“Hello?”
“Hey…Lisa it’s me.”
There was a slightly disturbed pause. “Dean? Why are you calling…what’s wrong?”
He inhaled deeply, squeezing his eyes with his fingers to prevent tears. “Nothing’s wrong I…just wanted to call and see how Ben was doing?”
“He’s fine…he misses you a lot Dean.” Her tone was full of resentment.
“I miss him too…and I miss you Lisa. I’m so sorry about everything…”
“Can we not… I’m too tired to argue… The only person I’m thinking of is Ben…and when he’s going to see his daddy again.”
Hearing the anguish in her voice stung worse than getting punched in the stomach. “Can I… talk to him?”
“I don’t know Dean he’s…”
“Please?”
“Sure…” in the background he could hear her calling his son’s name, “Ben honey, your dad’s on the phone!”
Three seconds later his eardrums were met by an urgent young voice. “Dean!”
The sound of Ben’s voice tugged his lips into a smile. “Hey pal, how are you doing?”
“I’m fine…when are you coming home?”
“Hopefully pretty soon here buddy,” though Dean wasn’t entirely convinced by his own answer. “Hey listen… I need you to take care of your mom for me okay? You’re the man in charge while I’m away…so can I count on you to do that for me champ?”
“I guess so.” Ben reluctantly sighed.
“You promise?” Dean asked heavily, pacing the floor.
“Yeah…I promise…” the connection was briefly muffled with Ben’s breath on the other end of the line. “I love you dad.”
Unable to prevent the inevitable, tears began to sprout from Dean’s eyes. He’d gotten attached to this kid even before he learned the paternal truth. From the moment he laid eyes on Ben, an instant connection was formed between them. Ben was his son, his reason to continue on. And now Dean was a wreck being a part from him for so long.
“I love you too pal… I’ll see you soon okay?”
“Okay.”
The darkness in Kay Forster’s bedroom seemed deafening compared to the inner struggle of her nightmares. The air was thick with agonizing screams, gripping the mattress tightly, bracing herself, something tore through her body. When she opened her eyes, cheeks drenched in tears, Kay scrambled to the floor rocking back and forth on her heels, curling into a ball. As she ran her hands up her face, sobbing uncontrollably a sharp push tossed her against the wall like a ragdoll.
Kay cried out the instant her skull connected to a hard surface. It was happening again, just like the other night when she was forced on the roof against her will. She wanted the pain to stop. Her ears were vibrating as her heart pounded like thunder. “Please stop!” she wailed, grinding her teeth together as gravity pinned her to the floor.
Kay’s arms suddenly stretched above her head, her mind was compelled with misery and torment…eager to take her own life. Something was pushing her to end the suffering. Storming into the bathroom, forehead soaked in blood from the gash above her eye, Kay shot her fist against the glass of the mirror, nearly shattering her knuckles.
“No!” she hollered snatching a piece of a glass shard with her quivering hands, “Please I don’t want to! Stop it!”
She was drowning in constant emotions of fear and desperation. Hard as she fought, the shard was already slicing into the frail skin of her wrists towards her veins. Kay howled as blood pooled from her angry wounds…but it didn’t compare to the hatred she felt behind the cuts.
(warning this part contains scenes of violence and course language. You will also witness the beginning of Sam and Dean's personal issue with each other since Sam's return from hell)
Sam and Dean made it back to the motel they checked into, just as the sun was setting along the horizon. The air was dry yet damp very irritable, much like their failed attempt to connect with a strange young mechanic. For the first time since he’d accepted this case, cursing to himself bitterly while stepping out of the impala, Dean felt like he’d abandoned his “hunter’s code of conduct”: “Saving people, hunting things…the family business.”
But Sam had reminded him the whole time, “We can’t help her unless she wants our help.” This indication seemed to bruise Dean’s pride more than he expected. After that conversation with Kay Forster, the brothers were determined to figure out what was going on with her.
While the boys were about to settle in for the night, Sam was surfing on his laptop researching possible disturbances in the area until some enlightening info came to his attention.
“Dean, listen to this,” he called to his older brother, who was busily scraping shaving cream off his 1:00 shadow with a razor. “It says here there have been several cases of abnormal behavior occurring throughout different parts of the city. People suddenly just snapping, experiencing unusual violent outbursts, suicide attempts. Doesn’t that strike you as bizarre?”
“Yah if you’re a psychotic mental patient in a psych ward,” Dean lashed from in the lit bathroom. “Where are you going with this Sam? I mean how’s this even connected to Kay at all?”
Sam sighed, scratching his head. “I don’t know. But instead of just trying to figure out what we’re dealing with, I thought I’d check for any supernatural activity. Kay said it was like something was channeling into her body…don’t you think this might be a good place to start?”
Dean poked his head from the bathroom scrutinizing his younger but taller brother. “How is a bunch of crazies suddenly snapping their twig, a good lead in any of this?”
“Because maybe if they’re suffering from the same side-effects as Kay, we might be able to understand what’s hurting her.”
Dean rolled his green eyes staring back at his robust reflection covered in shaving cream. “Either that or we’re starting to suck with women! I don’t know about myself but how the hell did she manage resisting that puppy-dog eyes thing you do? Even for you that was the worst I’ve ever seen you strike out.”
Sam lifted his eyes towards the bathroom, frowning. “Dean this isn’t a popularity contest, we’re talking about an innocent girl’s life here! So do me a favor…don’t bring your personal problems into this okay.”
Like a bullet exiting his colt, something inside Dean exploded at the mention of the word “personal problems”, which was a subject he was in no mood to discus. “You got something to say to me Sammy?” he shuffled towards his brother combatively. “Cause if you got something to say then let’s hear it!”
Sam expression was drained of sentiment, reforming into annoyance. “I’m not getting into this with you Dean. Not tonight… and definitely not while we’re on a case.”
“Ah that’s a load of crap and you know it! All this time trying to use this case as an excuse, pretending like the last four months haven’t been…” he shook his head scowling. “But you can’t fool me…”
“Dean, I said I didn’t want to talk about this!” his voice was scolding.
“To hell with what you want! I’ve been rattled up in your shit for too long and I’m tired of it Sam.” Dean could feel his blood pressure rising in his face, nostrils flaring. “I’m tired of the silent treatments and frequent brooding episodes! As far as I’m concerned you’re the only poster boy for personal problems here Sammy.”
Sam’s jaw clenched tightly, bluish eyes glazing. “Is that what you keep telling yourself…every time you think of Lisa throwing you out?”
“I’m about two seconds away from kicking your ass.”
“Go ahead! Cause no matter what it won’t change anything that happened!” Sam paused, struggling to cool himself off. “Nobody forced me to say “Yes” Dean, I made that choice… You think it doesn’t bother me every time I’m around you…remembering what I…what he did…”
“It wasn’t you.”
“I almost killed you Dean… and I can never get passed it…so I’m trying… very hard to avoid it,” He swallowed hard, rubbing the tension off his beat-red face. “I know you can’t understand that now but what I’m going through… I’m not ready to share this burden with anyone.”
Before Dean could say something, Sam grabbed his beige jacket off the bed and stormed out the room. He needed time to walk off steam, he was entitled to it after the hell he went through over four months ago. Touching the contours of his face set Dean backwards in time to when Lucifer almost beat him to death, wearing his brother’s body. He remembered the searing pain of his bones crunching upon impact of the devil’s fist. Dean’s face was completely shattered and bloody…until Castiel healed him with his new angel mojo.
He wanted to talk to someone, and he needed it to be her. Flipping open his cell phone he punched in Lisa’s number.
“Hello?”
“Hey…Lisa it’s me.”
There was a slightly disturbed pause. “Dean? Why are you calling…what’s wrong?”
He inhaled deeply, squeezing his eyes with his fingers to prevent tears. “Nothing’s wrong I…just wanted to call and see how Ben was doing?”
“He’s fine…he misses you a lot Dean.” Her tone was full of resentment.
“I miss him too…and I miss you Lisa. I’m so sorry about everything…”
“Can we not… I’m too tired to argue… The only person I’m thinking of is Ben…and when he’s going to see his daddy again.”
Hearing the anguish in her voice stung worse than getting punched in the stomach. “Can I… talk to him?”
“I don’t know Dean he’s…”
“Please?”
“Sure…” in the background he could hear her calling his son’s name, “Ben honey, your dad’s on the phone!”
Three seconds later his eardrums were met by an urgent young voice. “Dean!”
The sound of Ben’s voice tugged his lips into a smile. “Hey pal, how are you doing?”
“I’m fine…when are you coming home?”
“Hopefully pretty soon here buddy,” though Dean wasn’t entirely convinced by his own answer. “Hey listen… I need you to take care of your mom for me okay? You’re the man in charge while I’m away…so can I count on you to do that for me champ?”
“I guess so.” Ben reluctantly sighed.
“You promise?” Dean asked heavily, pacing the floor.
“Yeah…I promise…” the connection was briefly muffled with Ben’s breath on the other end of the line. “I love you dad.”
Unable to prevent the inevitable, tears began to sprout from Dean’s eyes. He’d gotten attached to this kid even before he learned the paternal truth. From the moment he laid eyes on Ben, an instant connection was formed between them. Ben was his son, his reason to continue on. And now Dean was a wreck being a part from him for so long.
“I love you too pal… I’ll see you soon okay?”
“Okay.”
The darkness in Kay Forster’s bedroom seemed deafening compared to the inner struggle of her nightmares. The air was thick with agonizing screams, gripping the mattress tightly, bracing herself, something tore through her body. When she opened her eyes, cheeks drenched in tears, Kay scrambled to the floor rocking back and forth on her heels, curling into a ball. As she ran her hands up her face, sobbing uncontrollably a sharp push tossed her against the wall like a ragdoll.
Kay cried out the instant her skull connected to a hard surface. It was happening again, just like the other night when she was forced on the roof against her will. She wanted the pain to stop. Her ears were vibrating as her heart pounded like thunder. “Please stop!” she wailed, grinding her teeth together as gravity pinned her to the floor.
Kay’s arms suddenly stretched above her head, her mind was compelled with misery and torment…eager to take her own life. Something was pushing her to end the suffering. Storming into the bathroom, forehead soaked in blood from the gash above her eye, Kay shot her fist against the glass of the mirror, nearly shattering her knuckles.
“No!” she hollered snatching a piece of a glass shard with her quivering hands, “Please I don’t want to! Stop it!”
She was drowning in constant emotions of fear and desperation. Hard as she fought, the shard was already slicing into the frail skin of her wrists towards her veins. Kay howled as blood pooled from her angry wounds…but it didn’t compare to the hatred she felt behind the cuts.
