Since We've No Place To Go (M) - (Supernatural, 12 parts) - Completed 12/25/12

[Zwee]

Oh my goddd.... There's so many things I love about this story! I love the sneeze scaring, and the plot to overall sneeziness ratio (perfect) and Dean saying "Jeez, Sammy." (something about those two words side by side, especially when in response to sneezing totally gets me!) and the subtle humor (like Dean ordering Sam a cold, frou-frou drink and himself the standard coffee, or Sam mentioning Dean staring at the pregnant lady). It's perfect. Thanks so much. Every time you update this story, my day is made. Promise.

[sexygirl1012]

This just keep getting better and better! I can't wait to see what happens next!!

[BlueRandom]

Ohhhhhhhhhhh how I love you. Poor sneezy Sammy I laughed at Dean trying to scare the sneeze out of him, haha;)

Hee, thanks!

Oh my goddd.... There's so many things I love about this story! I love the sneeze scaring, and the plot to overall sneeziness ratio (perfect) and Dean saying "Jeez, Sammy." (something about those two words side by side, especially when in response to sneezing totally gets me!) and the subtle humor (like Dean ordering Sam a cold, frou-frou drink and himself the standard coffee, or Sam mentioning Dean staring at the pregnant lady). It's perfect. Thanks so much. Every time you update this story, my day is made. Promise.

Aww, ditto for comments!

This just keep getting better and better! I can't wait to see what happens next!!

Coming right up

[BlueRandom]

Part Eight

Sam waited for Dean to go into the bathroom of the small inn they had located on the outskirts of the town, before sinking onto one of the double beds with a sigh and rolling over onto his side. He knew he'd be alright in a few days: he tended to get hit hard, and mend fast; but that didn't make the waiting any more bearable. He drew his knees in towards his abs, burying his face in his hands.

“Do you feel as bad as you look, or just testing out your hibernation skills?” Dean was back, standing at Sam's head so that he appeared to be upside-down.

“Depends.” Sam uncurled a bit, raising his shoulders in a semi-stretch and meeting Dean's eyes.

“On what?”

“How bad do I look?”

Dean deliberated for a moment. “Remember that ghost we saw in Arizona one time? With the stake through his neck and the eyeballs popping out and the skin-thing?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, he'd beat you out in a beauty contest.”

“Uhh'huh … hehh'SHEWW!” Sam recovered his composure, and clenched his jaw so that the dimples appeared on either side of his mouth; a feature that slightly diminished the stubborn attitude. “Very funny. Maybe you should lay off the coffee.”

“Probably not the best time for you to be giving out health advice, Sam.”

His brother couldn't find it in himself to rise to a response; instead, resting his head on his arm and staring moodily at the space on the floor between the beds. He tilted his face into the bed covers, coughing into them.

“So, you gonna check out some more on this town?”

More coughing, Sam sitting upright to catch his breath.

“I'll take that as a 'no'.” Dean scooped up Sam's computer, flipped up the screen and began to type furtively.

“No – Dean, get off it,” objected Sam, attempting to grab it back.

“What the hell? I'm doing research.”

“Yeah? You should probably try refining your search terms by something other than bra size.” He leaned over Dean's shoulder, tapping a couple of keys so that the screen wiped blank and a password entry flashed up.

“Kill-joy.”

“No ...” Sam groaned, wincing and trying to hide his face behind the cast on his wrist. “Huhh … huh'KkShoo! Hehh'SCHhuhh!”

“Sneezy bastard, aren't you?” Dean remarked, conversationally.

“Uhh'CHShhoo!”

“Yes, yes you are.”

“You can't leave anyone alone, can you?” Sam punched the pillow behind him in exasperation, settling on his stomach on the bed and pulling his laptop towards him.

Dean kept an eye surreptitiously trained on him: Sam looked paler now, and a little sweaty. He couldn't help being impressed by Sam's ability to pull himself together for the purpose of a case, however crappy he was obviously feeling. At the same time though, there was the undeniable instinct to check up on him; the overriding older brother impulse to take care of him. A factor, Dean decided, not diminished by the pathetic state he was currently in.

“There've only been a handful of murders here over the last century,” Sam informed him, reading the statistics aloud from the screen and trying to ease his headache without drawing attention to it. “Lower than the national average for a town that size.”

“Yeah, well, it's a pretty quiet place.”

“You said it,” muttered Sam. “Crime rate low, a few disappearances over several decades, but nothing that stands out.”

Dean made a squelching noise with his cheeks, to indicate his displeasure. “I think we're dealing with a spirit here. There weren't any signs of a break-in at the victim's house; and the place was in chaos. Shame no-one seems to have any information.” He took out a stack of newspapers, leisurely rifling through them with a pen between his teeth.

“It does sound like a spirit.” Sam's voice was husky, but pensive. “I guess we could go through the unsolved missing-persons cases: there aren't many, it shouldn't take too long.”

“Have you looked in the mirror lately? Like hell are you staying up half the night.”

Sam responded with an irritated look; then pinched his nose, half-failing to stifle the sneeze. “Nn-CHSHhh!”

“Bless you.”

“Huhh … hehh'IHSHh-uh!” Frowning, Sam rubbed his nose with his knuckles. “For the love of God, Dean; quit bossing me around.”

“Right, because you're doing such a great job of taking care of yourself now,” said Dean, continuing to flick through the papers; pausing occasionally to highlight an article or caption.

“Uhh'ihh! ...” Sam gasped, then sighed; flushing with embarrassment when Dean looked up. “Uhh … huhh … uhh'SHEHhh!”

“And bless you. Again.”

“Mmh.”

“I'm gonna go down to the lobby; see if there're any vending machines or something.” Sam grunted his acknowledgement of Dean's words, nestling his face in the crook of his arm and closing his eyes. “Feel better, kiddo,” Dean murmured; so quietly that his brother had no chance of hearing.

Before he had time to close the door, his cell phone began to vibrate against the uneven surface of the bedside table. He crossed the room in three strides to snatch it up, registering the unknown caller ID with puzzlement as he did so. “This's Dean Winchester.” Sam couldn't hear the other side of the phonecall, but Dean was at once alert and resolute; already beginning to pull on his boots with his free hand. “We'll be right there.”

“Dean, it's late ...”

“That was Jim,” Dean said, tersely. “He just got back from the hospital – his wife's had a fall. He's got something to tell us.”

_ _ _

Edited March 12, 2012 by BlueRandom

[ID2006]

Love love love this

[obsessed]

Fantastic (:

[flower]

Yes! Love it! And I don't know why, but I really love that you keep referring to the cast on Sam's arm. And the sneezing, of course. And Dean blessing Sam when he sneezes. So many things to love, really.

[27jj]

yesss, pretty much everything that flower said. sneezy sam in cast = LOVE

[SexualOddity]

HOW HAVE I MANAGED TO MISS THIS BEFORE! THIS IS AWESOME! OH MY GOODNESS! I love your narrative, and the way the plot is unravelling all slowly slowly and getting me all intrigued, and I LOVE the build ups and your characterisation and Dean and Sam's relationship here and... and... and THIS IS AWESOME!!!

I am excited by this fic.

*Snuggles fic really tight and never lets go*

[BlueRandom]

Love love love this

Fantastic (:

Thank you!!!

Yes! Love it! And I don't know why, but I really love that you keep referring to the cast on Sam's arm. And the sneezing, of course. And Dean blessing Sam when he sneezes. So many things to love, really.

Haha thanks, he looked pretty cute with the cast ...

yesss, pretty much everything that flower said. sneezy sam in cast = LOVE

HOW HAVE I MANAGED TO MISS THIS BEFORE! THIS IS AWESOME! OH MY GOODNESS! I love your narrative, and the way the plot is unravelling all slowly slowly and getting me all intrigued, and I LOVE the build ups and your characterisation and Dean and Sam's relationship here and... and... and THIS IS AWESOME!!!

I am excited by this fic.

*Snuggles fic really tight and never lets go*

Lol ahh thanks for commenting! Glad you like it.

[BlueRandom]

Part Nine

The front door opened on Dean's second knock, by which time Sam was shivering again and fiercely pretending not to. Jim greeted them with open misgivings; beckoning them inside.

“Jim?” His wife came through from the kitchen, wearing an oversized knitted cardigan with buttons straining over the swell of her pregnant stomach. She looked exhausted, and didn't seem to register the two men standing on her front porch.

“Go on, sweetheart.” He kissed her tenderly, placing a hand on the small of her back as she made her way to the stairs.

“Did the hospital give the all clear?” asked Sam, anxiously.

“Yeah, they did; thank God.” Jim led them through the hallway to the room his wife had just vacated, sitting down heavily at the kitchen table and motioning for them to join him.

“And the kid?” Dean indicated a region close to his knees.

“It's lucky; he was at his grandparents.” He smoothed the skin on his forehead, and Sam noticed a tortured look in his eyes he had somehow missed before.

“You had something to -” began Dean, but stopped as his brother moved sharply at his side, accidentally elbowing him in his effort to turn away.

“Uhh'HESCHhoo! Huhh … ahh ...” Sam squinted upwards for a few seconds, before sneezing twice more in rapid succession. “Huh'ESCHhh! Uhh'CHSHh-uhh!”

“Sorry about this one; I swear he's not usually like this.” Dean skated over the interruption, removing the attention from Sam before he curled up with embarrassment. “You said you had something to tell us.”

“I think –” Jim halted, looking pained. “This is going to sound insane.”

“Trust me.” Dean's expression was grim, and confiding. “We'll get past it.”

Jim remained skeptical, glancing nervously at the ceiling at the direction in which his wife had retreated. “I know you're not police.” He didn't seem to expect an response, still avoiding their gaze. “I – I think ...” His voice faded, and he covered his eyes with his hands, recommencing speech in a shallow whisper. “There was a woman. We were kids, teenagers; it was a game. Darell and I – we broke into her house, on a dare. We were supposed to grab something from the bathroom, anything to show we'd been there, and get out. But she woke up.” He slid his hands tremulously to the sides of his face, casting his eyes upwards once more. “It was an accident. She was screaming, and I panicked: Darell had fled back out of the window, and she was standing there, staring at me, screaming. And I pushed her.” His pale eyes were bloodshot when he looked up at Dean, a long-hidden agony across his features. “I could hear it, the moment she died. I heard the breath leaving her body; the exact moment.”

“You never told this to anyone.” Dean was stating the obvious, concealing his sense of jaded disappointment. One more skeleton-filled closet for them to unearth. “How did you cover it up?”

“I called Darell back, and we moved the body together. It was night time, and we took his car, so it was ...” He swallowed, his self-hatred evident. “Easy. No one ever knew what happened to her.”

“And now she wants revenge.”

“I don't know. Look, I wouldn't be thinking this if it wasn't for what happened to Darell – and this evening, with Liv falling on the stairs. She said she could have sworn she felt someone pushing her: she was terrified. I'd never forgive myself if anything happened to her; or the baby.”

“We'll do our best to help you.” Sam spoke earnestly, trying to inject reassurance into his tone. “My brother and I; this is what we do.”

Jim seemed caught between gratitude and suspicion, compromising with a curt nod. “There's no one else to ask.”

“We understand. But you have to tell us everything you know.”

“I hated this road the first time,” Dean complained, shifting gear as the road sloped upwards into the mountains. The cabin was a little to the east, the forest it bordered stretching further into the distance.

Sam was coughing into his fist, and didn't reply. He rested his forehead against the cool window of the Impala, trying to think about Jim's confession. Dean had been wary of the man to start with, and yet had seemed more let down than Sam to hear his past exposed. Perhaps Sam was the more cynical, after all. He sniffled, hand pressed against his nose, one eye closed and the other open; his breath hitching slightly. “Huhh ...”

Dean's head turned towards him, concerned.

“Eyes on the road, D-Dean … huhh'SHEWw! Uhh … huhh-CHSHhh!”

“Y'alright?”

“Fine. Where do we start looking?”

“He said he doesn't know where in the forest they buried her. I still think we should have brought him with us.”

“I told you, he can't leave his wife on her own.” Sam paused, eyes unconsciously moving into puppy-mode for a brief moment before he reluctantly gave in to the internal struggle. “Huhh … hehh'KSCHH! Uhh'SHEHh!” He dragged his sleeve across his face, and twisted almost fully around in his seat to get as far away from Dean as possible. “Hehh'UHHShoo!”

“This is ridiculous. I'm taking you back to the cabin, and – you're going to sneeze again, aren't you?”

“Huhh'uh … huhh'EHSHhoo!” Sam made a noise of protest, and cleared his throat. “Like you can search an entire forest on your own.”

“Probably quicker than if I'm having to mind you all the time. Hold on,” Dean's tone changed abruptly, inspiration hitting him. “The tape, in the video player at the cabin. If the camera caught the spirit just as she was leaving her resting place -”

“Then we've got our grave,” Sam finished, catching onto his brother's train of thought and trying to picture the scene in his head. “As long as we can find the place on the recording.”

“Perfect.” They had reached the lodge, still partially submerged in snow. “Right. You, inside.”

_ _ _

[obsessed]

what will happen next!

[BlueRandom]

what will happen next!

Ahh, did you update the title for me? Thank you!

[sneezychick93]

This story is so good!!!!

[Zwee]

This is SO good. I like Sam fiercely pretending not to shiver and "eyes on the road, Dean" and

“This is ridiculous. I'm taking you back to the cabin, and – you're going to sneeze again, aren't you?”

It made me laugh and squirm with cuteness.

All these lovely images you give me! Thanks so much!

[obsessed]

what will happen next!

Ahh, did you update the title for me? Thank you!

Anytime! Feel free to nag me if I ever forget

[27jj]

Poor Sammy!! This story makes me super happy:) Great update!

[Lexi]

I neeeeed more

[alias]

I am very picky when it comes to Supernatural fics, and I must say, yours is PERFECT! You have the characters DOWN! I love love love it. Especially the plot to sneeze ratio. Perfection.

[BlueRandom]

what will happen next!

Just a sec

This story is so good!!!!

Thank you!!

This is SO good. I like Sam fiercely pretending not to shiver and "eyes on the road, Dean" and

“This is ridiculous. I'm taking you back to the cabin, and – you're going to sneeze again, aren't you?”

It made me laugh and squirm with cuteness.

All these lovely images you give me! Thanks so much!

Haha thanks! Sam is sooo cute, right?

Poor Sammy!! This story makes me super happy:) Great update!

Ditto for this comment!

I neeeeed more

Coming up

I am very picky when it comes to Supernatural fics, and I must say, yours is PERFECT! You have the characters DOWN! I love love love it. Especially the plot to sneeze ratio. Perfection.

Ahhh thank you, that's so lovely!

[BlueRandom]

Part Ten

“You want the bed, or the couch?” Dean felt this was quite a generous offer, considering that under normal circumstances he would have left out the choice. “You can watch a movie or something, if you can find one.”

“I'm not a kid, Dean.” As though to prove his point, Sam pulled his shotgun out from the duffel bag and slipped it into his jacket; glancing pointedly at the door.

“If you're going to be sneezing all over the place, we might as well bring disco balls and a megaphone.”

“You want to stop exaggerating?”

“I'm not about to get my ass kicked by some spirit just because you want to prove you're friggin' action man.”

Sam exhaled impatiently, stretching the muscles in his shoulders. “Are we going to watch the tape?”

After ten minutes of staring at the paused screen of the copse of trees at the point just before the video cut out, Dean had to admit he was out of his depth. He was having considerable difficulty in picking out any distinguishing features of the forest. Sam's expression had become increasingly smug as Dean's resolution had lessened, despite the shadows under his eyes and the frequent pawing at his nose. “You ready yet?” His voice came out husky, and Dean flashed him a warning look.

“Come on, a tree is a tree.” He scratched his head, doubtfully. “I'll find it.”

“Sure you will … hehh'SHEWw!” The sudden movement seemed to take Sam by surprise: he blinked a few times, a little dazed.

“If you'd stop doing that we wouldn't be having this problem. Actually,” Dean reconsidered, casting an eye over his brother again. “Forget it, you still look like crap anyway.”

“We're wasting time.” Without further hesitation, Sam shut off the video player and headed for the front door.

If Dean's teeth were chattering and his joints aching from the cold, he didn't want to think how Sam was feeling. His brother's eyes were narrowed, arms wrapped around his chest, but all the while facing determinedly away from Dean. Every few minutes his whole frame would shake as he coughed as quietly as he could, his pace slowing down slightly. Dean would slow too, but with subtlety enough for it to be unnoticeable; pretending to adjust the shovel he was carrying. The snow was seeping into his jeans, although his extremities were already too numb to sense it. Sam paused again, coming to a halt this time, his breath rising in juddering gasps.

“Huhh … huh-uhh … uhh'HhKSHh! Uhh … hehh'UHHShoo!”

“Sam ...”

“It can't be that much further in. There was still a fair amount of daylight surrounding the area on the tape, and the forest gets way more dense as you go deeper.” The location was fixed in his head: he knew they should be facing west, judging by the position of the light on the video footage, and had a clear mental image of the trees' formation around the place. That left a kind of circular perimeter for them to search; although Sam was sure the body would have been buried on this side, closer to the road, since it would have been heavy for the teenagers to drag. Dean, on the other hand, was less interested with the geography of the forest than with keeping a watchful look out for anything lurking close by.

“Hey.” Sam stopped, pointing ahead of him. “There. Those trees, they were on the tape. The movements,” he turned in a semi-circle, tracing the outline in the air, “came from that direction.”

Impressed, Dean nodded. “Where d'you want to start digging?”

It took several strategic guesses and a considerable length of time to hit the area; Dean's shovel finally striking something too solid for dirt, but too easily moved to be rock. “Gotcha.” He cast his flashlight upwards, signalling for Sam to join him in widening the space. Sam's face was streaked with mud, speckled where fresh snowflakes had cleared it, from rubbing his nose in between digs. The physical work seemed to have warmed him up, Dean noticed, although his tiredness was evident.

“Surely this thing should be showing up by now?” Sam lowered his voice, producing salt from the bag to scatter into the ground.

“Don't complain. Is that the whole skeleton?”

Sam replied in the affirmative, standing back as Dean prepared to set the pit alight. He felt the spirit before he saw her: a blast of air even colder than the forest temperature, and a tremor rippling up his spine. “Dean!”

“I'm on it – start shooting!”

Trying to mentally block out the intensified numbing cold, Sam fired several shots towards the spirit; causing her to retreat and vanish temporarily. He spun around, watching for her reappearance, hearing the surge of material catching fire behind him as Dean threw in the lighter. He began to count down the seconds, rapidly calculating the amount of time it should take the remains to burn fully. The woman's ghost materialized ahead of him again and he aimed another shot between her outstretched arms.

“I think that's …” Dean broke off, and swore harshly. “It's not working! Shit, it's not working –” The fire had burnt away, but the spirit was swarming towards them once more, rushing at Sam.

“Huhh'CHShoo!” Sam sneezed, reflex bringing the injured hand not containing his gun up to cover his face. The translucent female form had almost reached him when Dean made use of his own shotgun, buying time enough to grab his brother's arm and wrench him in the direction of the Impala. “We're running away?” Sam panted, bracing himself against the onset of dizzyness.

“You got another option?”

By the time they reached the Impala, Dean persistently shooting behind him as the spirit emerged, Sam looked ready to collapse. He was coughing into a fist, the other hand flat against the dashboard, as Dean pulled the Impala out onto the mountain road.

“Hanging in there?” Dean clapped a hand on Sam's shoulder, swiftly checking the rear window for anything following.

“She must have left something behind, something for her spirit to latch onto.” Sam shivered, chewing his lower lip. “It could be anything.”

_ _ _

Edited April 15, 2012 by BlueRandom

[flower]

So excited to see the update! Thanks.

[Zwee]

Awwwwwww... Practically every sentence describing Sam's misery made my heart wrench! And I LOVED it. You're too good. I'm positive I've said I like your spellings at least three times before, so I won't say it again... It's just there's something about them that seem so real and perfect, like that would totally be what Sam's sneezes sound like! Okay. And I really like that we can just tell how worried Dean is about Sam. And Sam won't have any of it until the hunt is done. This is so intriguing to me! Every chapter hooks me more! You're awesome. Thanks!

[BlueRandom]

Part Eleven

Daylight was peeking over the horizon in long stripes of peach and silver when they reached the town once more, Sam asleep in the passenger seat. Dean had waited until they reached a straight stretch of road before stripping off his own jacket and covering Sam with it, yawning widely as he resumed driving. They had only been a few minutes into the conversation about possible objects left behind, when Dean had turned to adjust his rear-view mirror and found Sam slumped a little sideways, chest rising deeply and evenly. Dean was getting pretty tired himself, and watching his brother did nothing to alleviate this. He pinched his thumb to stimulate some kind of wakefulness, thinking over his last phone call to Jim. He had called as soon as Sam had passed out, instructing him to get his wife as far away from the house as possible before they arrived. Jim had been compliant, ready to act at once, and Dean was having some trouble reconciling this with the image in his mind of the scared teenager.

Sam jerked awake suddenly as they rounded the final bend; eyelids opening, blinking twice, and closing again. “Huhh … huh-ihh … huhh'SHEHH!” He pushed Dean's jacket onto the back seat, sneaking a quizzical glance at him out of the corner of his eye. “God, sorry. I didn't mean to sleep.”

“You're right on time, Sammy boy.” Dean slammed on the brakes at the corner of the street, bringing the Impala to a halt in the snowbank of the sidewalk.

He leapt out, Sam following but still moving drowsily, and thumped his fist hard against the front door. Sam's breath caught and he twisted around, hands cupped over his face. “Huhh'IHShoo! Uhh … uhh'HESChh! Uhh … huhh'CHShh!”

The door opened as Dean cuffed him gently around the head, ruffling his hair. Jim was pale, but glaring at them with rapt attention. “What's going on?”

“We gotta concentrate on two things.” Dean strode past him into the hall, holding up a thumb to enumerate. “First things first. We've got an angry spirit on our hands, and she'll be showing up at any moment.” He paused a moment to let this resonate, resisting the urge to pace the length of the room. “Secondly, we think she's connected to some object; something that's holding her here. If we're going to deal with this thing, we need to find that object.”

“How do you –”

“You're just going to have to trust us on this one. Right, you take this.” Dean produced one of their guns, loaded with rock salt, shoving it towards Jim. “Know what you're doing?”

“Yes.” He didn't elaborate, merely continued to watch Dean.

“Good. You see anything moving, shoot it. Me and Sam not included.”

Sam decided to break in at this point, stepping forward for the first time. “Jim – you said you took something from the bathroom, the night you broke in to her house?”

Jim was utterly motionless as he clutched the shotgun, but he nodded stiffly, meeting Sam's eyes. “A model of a dolphin, from the bathtub.”

“Do you still have it now?” Sam spoke softly, and Dean could hear the undercurrent of urgency in his words.

“I - ” Jim seemed almost to be pleading, fists clenched on the shining metal. “Yes. I couldn't … In the drawer by the bed.”

Sam and Dean exchanged a wordless look, and Dean bolted out of the room, sprinting up the stairs. Sam turned back to Jim, voice husky but gentle. “You keep it that close?”

“As a reminder.” Jim avoided Sam's gaze, still clutching the gun.

Sam registered the agonising regret of years in the way he spoke, and tried to think of a response; but it was Jim who reopened the subject.

“I can't let her take my family.”

“I know.” Sam's expression was pained for a moment, before it merged to a frown. “Huhh'SHEWw!”

“Bless –”

“Don't bother, you'll be at it all night,” Dean advised him, returning with the small object held out on his palm. “Sam?”

His brother had taken a couple of paces backward, then turned his body to face the wall. “Uhh … ehh'CHSHhh! Huh'uh … huhh'IHShoo!”

At that moment, the ceiling light wavered. Dean stopped in his tracks, seizing Jim's upper arm to prevent him from reacting. Sam, however, had missed it; and straightened up, rubbing his nose with a puzzed expression. Before he could speak, Dean held out his own forearm, drawing attention to the goosepimples that had risen from the cold air now seeping into the room. They began to back into the centre of the room, Sam and Dean fanning out to cover all directions. Jim copied their lead, standing close to Sam's shoulder and shadowing his defensive stance.

It was to Dean's side that the spirit first appeared, the lightbulb fizzling out barely a second beforehand so that only her shimmering outline was visible in the darkness. He shot at her, forcing her to vanish and rematerialize across the room; this time facing Jim. Her hair was matted, her features gnarled, but something still human haunted her appearance. The man froze, pinned to where he stood by recognition and overwhelming guilt. Sam lurched forward in his place, and the sound of the gun appeared to wake Jim from his trance, causing him to jump back to the present.

“Down!” Sam yelled, forcing him to the floor in time for the spirit to surge over their heads. Dean fired in her direction, but missed; the rock salt exploding instead against the far wall. The woman was starting to bear down on him, her fingers reaching out and teeth bared viciously.

“No!” Jim seemed to appear from nowhere, ramming his full weight into Dean's side so that he was slammed onto the ground, and firing the shotgun at the same time. The spirit missed her target, giving Sam time to snatch up the fallen lighter and ignite it beneath the dolphin model. The woman's translucent profile snapped towards the flame, beginning to flit in Sam's direction; but then she looked down, her form juddering. The tongue of fire started at her feet, sparking and hissing as it swept the length of her. Within moments she was engulfed, a despairing wail coming from within the smoke.

They stood for a moment, each taking in the sudden absence of the apparition. Then Dean reached down to the spot where Sam had dropped the lighter, tossing it into the air and catching it again with a satisfying click. Sam's nose and eyes were streaming from the smoke, and he scrubbed at them impatiently. Jim cleared his throat, the sound disarmingly isolated in the ringing silence. “She's gone?”

Dean nodded, coughing smoke from his lungs.

“I wanted to … just wanted to say … thank you.” Jim held out a sweaty palm, the other attempting to staunch the blood from a cut on his forehead.

“You weren't so bad in there yourself,” admitted Dean, gruffly, shaking his hand with sincerity.

They began to fix up the room, silently righting the bookshelf and coffee table, sliding the magazines back into place. Sam kept breaking into fits of coughing, hunching over and ducking his face into his elbow until they passed. Eventually, Dean clapped him on the back, and told Jim they would be getting on their way.

_ _ _

Edited July 10, 2012 by BlueRandom

[ID2006]

Yay more