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gilascaveTitle: Heart's Desire II: Follow The Light, It's Not In Vain
Sequel to: Heart's Desire I: Times Two
Fandom: Supernatural
Author: Wolfling![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
wolfling and James zortified
Pairing: Sam/Dean (Wincest)
Rating: NC-17
Word Count 24,361 (story total)
Warnings: none
Spoilers: vague ones for Devil's Trap and Asylum
Summary: What do you do when what you want, is what you have?
Author's Notes: Many thanks to wesleysgirl for the beta. This will be posted in four parts, a part a day over the next four days so as not to completely spam.
~~~
continued from part one b
part two
Dean had originally intended to be on the road by mid-afternoon. Plenty of time to do some research into the area, and the lake specifically, and pack for a weekend of not being on the job, for after.
Sam's jumping him as soon as they'd walked in the front door had delayed things a bit, and now it was early evening. They'd stopped at Cafe Bernito for dinner -- good food, cheap, and the girl bussing tables was good for slipping Dean a couple slices of pie for dessert. Then they finally hit the road out of town.
Sam was sitting beside him, humming along softly to the radio, one arm propped up on the open window, the wind blowing his hair crazily. He seemed to all but glow with happiness. He wanted to rib Sam -- tease the hell out of him, because it was a two hour drive and what the hell else was he gonna do? But as he looked over again and saw Sam's face, all Dean could think was how long had it been since he'd seen his brother so happy?
Sam looked over and met his eyes, smiling. "There's worse ways to spend a day," he observed.
"Like fixing a broken water pipe, mopping the laundry room, and re-washing some stranger's molding clothes just so we could get the laundry done before taking off?"
"At least nothing was trying to kill us." Sam's smile widened. "And it gave us an excuse to take a shower together."
"Sammy, Sammy, Sammy," Dean said with a 'tsk'. "Is that all you think about?"
He knew perfectly well what an 18 year old guy thought about -- pretty much the same thing a 22 year old guy thought about. But he was driving, and thinking about being in a shower with Sam, with soap and hot water and... crap. Yeah, that was why he hadn't wanted to think about it right that second.
Sam seemed to give the question some consideration before answering. "Yeah, pretty much. Least today."
"Today?" Dean asked, faking an incredulous tone. "And tomorrow, what, you'll go back to your Gameboy?"
"Nah," Sam said, shaking his head. "You're more interesting than Castlevania."
Dean gave him a wide-eyed look. "Wow, I really did get all the charm in the family, didn't I?"
"Don't let it go to your head," Sam advised.
"Why not? You let it go to yours." Dean glanced down to let Sam know which head he was referring to.
Dean took a quick mental step back and wondered why the hell he wasn't turning into a gibbering moron, given how badly he'd been freaking out just a day before. Well, they did have a job to take care of first -- he'd always been good about putting shit on hold while there were monsters to be destroyed.
At least, ever since he'd nearly let his brother get killed. Dean swallowed and shoved that back down in the back of his brain where it belonged.
"So what are you thinking about?" Sam asked, and Dean had a second of panic before he realised that it was just a natural progression of their conversation.
"I'm thinking about sex," he said easily.
Sam smirked. "Pot, kettle."
"When did I ever deny I thought about sex most of the time?" Dean shook his head. "Monsters, Metallica, and making out."
"The three 'm's?" Sam teased, smiling at him fondly.
"The perfect life philosophy. There's actually a fourth 'm', but... nah. You're too young, yet."
Sam just raised an eyebrow questioningly at him, it disappearing under his thick bangs.
Dean sighed like he was giving away one of his best secrets, then said, "Maturity."
It was the first 'm' word that he'd thought of, other than 'manmeat' and 'morbid.' Well, he realised, there was another word but... wow, did he not want to go there. Hard enough imagining what dad would do to him -- thinking about their mother was definitely not something Dean wanted to do right now.
There was a snort of amusement out of his little brother. "Yeah, you let me know when you grow into that one."
Dean flipped Sam off, and kept driving. One nice thing about the GEO's size, he thought a few minutes later, was how easy it was to reach over and goose his brother.
The downside of that being of course his brother could return the favor just as easily. Easier with those freaky long arms of his.
"Driving!" Dean shouted, trying half-heartedly to squirm away from Sam's fingers without driving them into the opposite lane.
"That's why I'm restraining myself to just pinching."
"That wasn't a pinch, that was taking a slice of my hide!" Dean waited until the oncoming lane was clear of traffic for a couple miles, then reached over and tried to push his hands past Sam's, to get in another pinch of his own. He didn't expect to be successful, but keeping Sam distracted would protect his own parts, for a few moments at least.
It quickly devolved into some kind of strange slapping fight that had them both laughing like loons.
"Dude, seriously, chill," Dean managed, some time later. His stomach hurt like hell, muscles aching, and he tried hard not to gasp for air. He still felt like laughing, but he couldn't remember exactly what they were laughing about.
Sam managed to compose himself, but then took one look at Dean and went off again.
"The hell is your problem?" Dean muttered, then he was grinning and fighting back laughter again. He saw a sign for the lake up ahead, and slapped his brother in the leg, hard. "Hey! Which exit do we take?"
"Uh..." Sam pulled out the written directions Alex had given him, still chuckling. "Second one, the one that goes to the far side."
"Five miles, great. You have the keys?" he asked, knowing full well that it was too late now if Sam didn't, but he figured it was a nice object lesson in being prepared, if Sam realised now that he'd forgotten them.
Not that he had any reason to think Sam wouldn't be prepared -- but hell, teasing his brother was a reflex, and one he didn't see any reason to stifle.
Sam reached into his pocket and pulled them out, holding them up for Dean's inspection, all without looking up from the directions he was looking at.
"And they warned the housekeeper we'd be there?" As far as he knew there was no housekeeper, but he was wondering how far he could go before Sam flipped him off.
"They have a cleaning service that comes in once a week -- Wednesdays. So there shouldn't be a problem with them."
Dean blinked. "They really have... dude, how rich are these people, anyway?"
"Pretty rich," Sam replied. "But Alex is cool. Doesn't use it to lord over anybody else or anything."
"No, no; that isn't what I mean. Sam, maybe you should ask this guy out. Or his sister, if he doesn't swing your way." He gave Sam the most exaggerated smirk he could, remembering the way his brother had closed up when he'd talked about trading affections for treats, before. Best to let Sam know upfront that he was only joking -- even if the idea of having a sugar daddy or sugar momma would make Dean's life a lot more fun.
Sam turned his head to study him thoughtfully. "You wouldn't have a problem with that?" he asked. "Me letting someone fuck me for money?"
Dean opened his mouth to say that if he got a decent car out of it, he was good with anything. Then he felt something entirely other than good, and he clamped his jaw shut.
He tried twice to unclench his jaw enough to say something.
"Yeah, thought so." He could hear the satisfied smirk in Sam's voice.
"Shut up." It wasn't the most eloquent of retorts, but it was all he could say that wasn't shouting things that he wasn't prepared to hear himself saying. Things like 'you belong to me' and 'no fucking way does anyone else get to have you, ever'.
Because that meant thinking about not stopping this, and... Dean shook his head, hard.
They fell into silence for a bit then, until they'd made the turn off and were heading down the road that would lead them to the cabin. Then out of the blue, Sam asked, "Do you want to fuck me tonight?"
"God dammit," Dean said, feeling Sam's words hit him like a blow to the stomach. Hell, even his knees shook, and Dean couldn't even look over at Sam, not with the images that were exploding in his mind. Like asking him did he want to breathe, because since the first time Dean had figured out that guys could do that sort of thing, he'd been working his way up to allowing himself that fantasy.
The one that always made him hide under the covers in shame after, and pray that no one could ever read his mind, or his face, and see what he'd been thinking.
"Is that a yes?" Sam asked, his voice getting softer, deeper, in that way that Dean already was associating with sex. "Because I think I'd like that. Been thinking about it all day, really." He shifted in his seat and one hand went down to adjust himself through his jeans.
Damn, but it was so completely not fair that Sam should be this...easy with it. Maybe that vision had warped his brain, but Sam was just talking like it was nothing.
He saw the cabin and yanked on the wheel, pulling the car up and parking. He didn't let go of the wheel right away, staring out at the cabin and the lake, beyond. He didn't move, didn't respond to what he knew was Sam's confused and curious look.
Finally, in a soft voice, he said, "First time I ever thought about doing that to you, I threw up for half an hour."
Sam reached over and touched his arm. Not in a sexual way, just connecting. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "It had to be hard wanting that, thinking you were in this alone..."
With a rough jerk, Dean shook off his brother's hand and yanked open the door. "Let's find out what's haunting this place."
He heard his brother sigh, but thankfully Sam didn't press the issue. "We better take a look around and unpack the car, then I'll take you through what I found in my research when you were doing the laundry."
"Great." Dean headed for the cabin, considering then rejecting going back to grab a shotgun just in case. From Sam's brief explanations earlier, it didn't seem like something that would need a good shooting -- which was really kind of too bad. He was suddenly in the mood to shoot things. He couldn't even kick in the door because Sam had the keys.
He tensed his shoulders for a moment, hoping the prickling feelings in his back would go away.
Sam followed him to the door, moving past him to unlock it when they got there. He glanced at Dean as he walked past, a small concerned frown turning his mouth down at the corners, but he didn't say anything or touch him.
"So where was the activity concentrated?" Dean asked, looking around the outside of the cabin and not seeing anything obvious, like a human skull or messages painted on the walls in blood.
He tried not to think about the fact he hadn't answered Sam's question. But fuck, what could he possibly say? Yes? No? Somebody please shoot me in the head so I don't have to answer?
"Upstairs," Sam said, nodding in the direction of a wrought iron spiral staircase in the center of the open area of the ground floor. He stepped into the place a bit further and turned around, obviously trying to see everything at once.
"Jesus." Dean shook his head as he headed for the stairs. This 'summer cabin' would house a family of twelve, full time. He glanced around at the decor -- not seeing anything that looked like a good reason a spirit might be hanging around. No strange tribal masks on the wall, no religious symbols carved in stone hanging the wrong side up.
It looked perfectly ordinary.
"I think Alex understated how much this place has," Sam commented, moving over to take a closer look at the home theatre system set up in the sunken living room area.
"Tell him we couldn't clean the place, and we can just move in." Dean smirked, but he knew there was no way. Not because Sam would never go for it, but because he'd been living in one place for fucking months and he was starting to feel like his feet were growing into the ground. The idea of taking up residence, even someplace as nice as this, gave him the creeps.
But still, he was glad he said it because it made Sam shoot him a quick smile, the first since they'd got out of the car. "That's a novel way of using a haunting."
Dean grinned, smugly. "And you thought you got the brains." He put his hand on the stair railing and felt the cold bite of iron -- at least no ghosts would be waiting to kick him down the stairs, with this much iron.
He hurried up the stairs to look around and find this critter.
The upstairs was just as elegant as the downstairs; the stairway let out into a hallway with wood floors and tasteful art on the walls. There were five doors leading off the hall -- two on each side and one at the very end.
Dean carefully walked up to the first door and paused. No strange sounds -- no sounds at all. No cold spots. No EMF meter, because that was in the back of dad's truck, currently someplace in Mississippi.
The first room was a guy's bedroom -- probably Alex. Clean and tidy and looking more like a younger kid's room than someone about to graduate high school. Well, then, Sam had said they hadn't been up here for a couple years. Maybe redecorating wasn't a big priority.
He left the room and went to the next door, on the other side of the hall. He opened the door and found pink everything inside.
So there was a sister. Dean turned to call down to Sam, and stopped.
Then he called out, "So, Sam? A strange figure?"
The figure stared back at him, its almost-face seeming to look right at him. Then it vanished.
"Yeah," Sam's voice came from a distance, but he was obviously heading towards Dean. "Alex said his mom saw it and his little sister." By the time he finished speaking he'd reached the door of the room Dean was in.
Dean looked over his shoulder and held his hand up. "About this tall? Kinda grey, humanoid but not human? Just stands there and doesn't say anything then vanishes?"
"You saw it?" Sam immediately scanned the room.
"No, I'm just talking out of my ass." Dean rolled his eyes. "Yes, moron, I saw it. It was standing right there," he pointed. There was no sign of it now, and Dean looked around the room for any signs of what might have triggered the appearance.
There was nothing that one wouldn't expect to find in a young girl's room -- lots of pink and ruffles, dolls and slightly out-of-date boy band posters. There were shelves covered with all sorts of collectibles: dolls, figurines and a bunch of rocks.
Sam had moved past him, and was checking the spot Dean had indicated, waving his hand through the air and kneeling to check for any physical evidence.
"So what did you find out about the lake?" Dean asked. "I'm guessing you didn't come across anything like a local legend about a strange figure that appears in girl's bedrooms."
"Nope," Sam said, sounding slightly distracted as he continued poking around. "No history of anything bad happening in the lake or the cabin or the ground it's on. No burial grounds, curses, or anything like that. It's a pretty recent development too -- before they built here it was nothing but nature on this side of the lake."
"So, maybe something moved in?" Dean thought about all the spirits who could, or would, move their territory. The list was short, as most things tended to stay either in a fixed location, or were fixed to an object. He hadn't recognized the figure, which ruled out half a dozen of the spirits who roamed freely.
Fixed to an object.
Dean turned his head and looked at the pile of rocks.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Sam look in the same direction. "Or was brought in," Sam suggested.
"It can't be that easy?" Dean looked over at his brother, trying not to smile. If the sister had been collecting rocks, and had grabbed one that belonged to a rock spirit, then the spirit would have followed -- wanting her rock back.
"The law of averages, occasionally one of them would have to be that easy." Sam shrugged. "Maybe we're due?"
"Don't talk like that," Dean said, grinning. "If you jinx us, I am going to be seriously pissed off." He walked over to the rocks, and looked them over. "Got any idea which one it could be?"
"Guess it's too much to ask for the right one to be labeled, huh?" Sam moved over to stand beside him, leaning over to take a closer look.
"Maybe you can point it out?" Dean asked the room, not sure the spirit could hear them or would bother responding. He waved his hand over the rocks, waiting for any sign. He caught the look Sam was giving him, and flipped his brother off just on principle.
They waited silently for a few minutes, but nothing happened. "There's one way to make sure we get the right one," Sam finally said.
"Put 'em all back." Dean nodded. He picked up one of the smaller rocks, and turned it over. "Looks like they came from the lake." The rock was smooth and rounded, worn by immersion rather than wind.
Sam grinned at him. "Your arm feel good enough to do some pitching?"
~~~
end part two
Sequel to: Heart's Desire I: Times Two
Fandom: Supernatural
Author: Wolfling
wolfling and James zortified Pairing: Sam/Dean (Wincest)
Rating: NC-17
Word Count 24,361 (story total)
Warnings: none
Spoilers: vague ones for Devil's Trap and Asylum
Summary: What do you do when what you want, is what you have?
Author's Notes: Many thanks to wesleysgirl for the beta. This will be posted in four parts, a part a day over the next four days so as not to completely spam.
~~~
continued from part one b
part two
Dean had originally intended to be on the road by mid-afternoon. Plenty of time to do some research into the area, and the lake specifically, and pack for a weekend of not being on the job, for after.
Sam's jumping him as soon as they'd walked in the front door had delayed things a bit, and now it was early evening. They'd stopped at Cafe Bernito for dinner -- good food, cheap, and the girl bussing tables was good for slipping Dean a couple slices of pie for dessert. Then they finally hit the road out of town.
Sam was sitting beside him, humming along softly to the radio, one arm propped up on the open window, the wind blowing his hair crazily. He seemed to all but glow with happiness. He wanted to rib Sam -- tease the hell out of him, because it was a two hour drive and what the hell else was he gonna do? But as he looked over again and saw Sam's face, all Dean could think was how long had it been since he'd seen his brother so happy?
Sam looked over and met his eyes, smiling. "There's worse ways to spend a day," he observed.
"Like fixing a broken water pipe, mopping the laundry room, and re-washing some stranger's molding clothes just so we could get the laundry done before taking off?"
"At least nothing was trying to kill us." Sam's smile widened. "And it gave us an excuse to take a shower together."
"Sammy, Sammy, Sammy," Dean said with a 'tsk'. "Is that all you think about?"
He knew perfectly well what an 18 year old guy thought about -- pretty much the same thing a 22 year old guy thought about. But he was driving, and thinking about being in a shower with Sam, with soap and hot water and... crap. Yeah, that was why he hadn't wanted to think about it right that second.
Sam seemed to give the question some consideration before answering. "Yeah, pretty much. Least today."
"Today?" Dean asked, faking an incredulous tone. "And tomorrow, what, you'll go back to your Gameboy?"
"Nah," Sam said, shaking his head. "You're more interesting than Castlevania."
Dean gave him a wide-eyed look. "Wow, I really did get all the charm in the family, didn't I?"
"Don't let it go to your head," Sam advised.
"Why not? You let it go to yours." Dean glanced down to let Sam know which head he was referring to.
Dean took a quick mental step back and wondered why the hell he wasn't turning into a gibbering moron, given how badly he'd been freaking out just a day before. Well, they did have a job to take care of first -- he'd always been good about putting shit on hold while there were monsters to be destroyed.
At least, ever since he'd nearly let his brother get killed. Dean swallowed and shoved that back down in the back of his brain where it belonged.
"So what are you thinking about?" Sam asked, and Dean had a second of panic before he realised that it was just a natural progression of their conversation.
"I'm thinking about sex," he said easily.
Sam smirked. "Pot, kettle."
"When did I ever deny I thought about sex most of the time?" Dean shook his head. "Monsters, Metallica, and making out."
"The three 'm's?" Sam teased, smiling at him fondly.
"The perfect life philosophy. There's actually a fourth 'm', but... nah. You're too young, yet."
Sam just raised an eyebrow questioningly at him, it disappearing under his thick bangs.
Dean sighed like he was giving away one of his best secrets, then said, "Maturity."
It was the first 'm' word that he'd thought of, other than 'manmeat' and 'morbid.' Well, he realised, there was another word but... wow, did he not want to go there. Hard enough imagining what dad would do to him -- thinking about their mother was definitely not something Dean wanted to do right now.
There was a snort of amusement out of his little brother. "Yeah, you let me know when you grow into that one."
Dean flipped Sam off, and kept driving. One nice thing about the GEO's size, he thought a few minutes later, was how easy it was to reach over and goose his brother.
The downside of that being of course his brother could return the favor just as easily. Easier with those freaky long arms of his.
"Driving!" Dean shouted, trying half-heartedly to squirm away from Sam's fingers without driving them into the opposite lane.
"That's why I'm restraining myself to just pinching."
"That wasn't a pinch, that was taking a slice of my hide!" Dean waited until the oncoming lane was clear of traffic for a couple miles, then reached over and tried to push his hands past Sam's, to get in another pinch of his own. He didn't expect to be successful, but keeping Sam distracted would protect his own parts, for a few moments at least.
It quickly devolved into some kind of strange slapping fight that had them both laughing like loons.
"Dude, seriously, chill," Dean managed, some time later. His stomach hurt like hell, muscles aching, and he tried hard not to gasp for air. He still felt like laughing, but he couldn't remember exactly what they were laughing about.
Sam managed to compose himself, but then took one look at Dean and went off again.
"The hell is your problem?" Dean muttered, then he was grinning and fighting back laughter again. He saw a sign for the lake up ahead, and slapped his brother in the leg, hard. "Hey! Which exit do we take?"
"Uh..." Sam pulled out the written directions Alex had given him, still chuckling. "Second one, the one that goes to the far side."
"Five miles, great. You have the keys?" he asked, knowing full well that it was too late now if Sam didn't, but he figured it was a nice object lesson in being prepared, if Sam realised now that he'd forgotten them.
Not that he had any reason to think Sam wouldn't be prepared -- but hell, teasing his brother was a reflex, and one he didn't see any reason to stifle.
Sam reached into his pocket and pulled them out, holding them up for Dean's inspection, all without looking up from the directions he was looking at.
"And they warned the housekeeper we'd be there?" As far as he knew there was no housekeeper, but he was wondering how far he could go before Sam flipped him off.
"They have a cleaning service that comes in once a week -- Wednesdays. So there shouldn't be a problem with them."
Dean blinked. "They really have... dude, how rich are these people, anyway?"
"Pretty rich," Sam replied. "But Alex is cool. Doesn't use it to lord over anybody else or anything."
"No, no; that isn't what I mean. Sam, maybe you should ask this guy out. Or his sister, if he doesn't swing your way." He gave Sam the most exaggerated smirk he could, remembering the way his brother had closed up when he'd talked about trading affections for treats, before. Best to let Sam know upfront that he was only joking -- even if the idea of having a sugar daddy or sugar momma would make Dean's life a lot more fun.
Sam turned his head to study him thoughtfully. "You wouldn't have a problem with that?" he asked. "Me letting someone fuck me for money?"
Dean opened his mouth to say that if he got a decent car out of it, he was good with anything. Then he felt something entirely other than good, and he clamped his jaw shut.
He tried twice to unclench his jaw enough to say something.
"Yeah, thought so." He could hear the satisfied smirk in Sam's voice.
"Shut up." It wasn't the most eloquent of retorts, but it was all he could say that wasn't shouting things that he wasn't prepared to hear himself saying. Things like 'you belong to me' and 'no fucking way does anyone else get to have you, ever'.
Because that meant thinking about not stopping this, and... Dean shook his head, hard.
They fell into silence for a bit then, until they'd made the turn off and were heading down the road that would lead them to the cabin. Then out of the blue, Sam asked, "Do you want to fuck me tonight?"
"God dammit," Dean said, feeling Sam's words hit him like a blow to the stomach. Hell, even his knees shook, and Dean couldn't even look over at Sam, not with the images that were exploding in his mind. Like asking him did he want to breathe, because since the first time Dean had figured out that guys could do that sort of thing, he'd been working his way up to allowing himself that fantasy.
The one that always made him hide under the covers in shame after, and pray that no one could ever read his mind, or his face, and see what he'd been thinking.
"Is that a yes?" Sam asked, his voice getting softer, deeper, in that way that Dean already was associating with sex. "Because I think I'd like that. Been thinking about it all day, really." He shifted in his seat and one hand went down to adjust himself through his jeans.
Damn, but it was so completely not fair that Sam should be this...easy with it. Maybe that vision had warped his brain, but Sam was just talking like it was nothing.
He saw the cabin and yanked on the wheel, pulling the car up and parking. He didn't let go of the wheel right away, staring out at the cabin and the lake, beyond. He didn't move, didn't respond to what he knew was Sam's confused and curious look.
Finally, in a soft voice, he said, "First time I ever thought about doing that to you, I threw up for half an hour."
Sam reached over and touched his arm. Not in a sexual way, just connecting. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "It had to be hard wanting that, thinking you were in this alone..."
With a rough jerk, Dean shook off his brother's hand and yanked open the door. "Let's find out what's haunting this place."
He heard his brother sigh, but thankfully Sam didn't press the issue. "We better take a look around and unpack the car, then I'll take you through what I found in my research when you were doing the laundry."
"Great." Dean headed for the cabin, considering then rejecting going back to grab a shotgun just in case. From Sam's brief explanations earlier, it didn't seem like something that would need a good shooting -- which was really kind of too bad. He was suddenly in the mood to shoot things. He couldn't even kick in the door because Sam had the keys.
He tensed his shoulders for a moment, hoping the prickling feelings in his back would go away.
Sam followed him to the door, moving past him to unlock it when they got there. He glanced at Dean as he walked past, a small concerned frown turning his mouth down at the corners, but he didn't say anything or touch him.
"So where was the activity concentrated?" Dean asked, looking around the outside of the cabin and not seeing anything obvious, like a human skull or messages painted on the walls in blood.
He tried not to think about the fact he hadn't answered Sam's question. But fuck, what could he possibly say? Yes? No? Somebody please shoot me in the head so I don't have to answer?
"Upstairs," Sam said, nodding in the direction of a wrought iron spiral staircase in the center of the open area of the ground floor. He stepped into the place a bit further and turned around, obviously trying to see everything at once.
"Jesus." Dean shook his head as he headed for the stairs. This 'summer cabin' would house a family of twelve, full time. He glanced around at the decor -- not seeing anything that looked like a good reason a spirit might be hanging around. No strange tribal masks on the wall, no religious symbols carved in stone hanging the wrong side up.
It looked perfectly ordinary.
"I think Alex understated how much this place has," Sam commented, moving over to take a closer look at the home theatre system set up in the sunken living room area.
"Tell him we couldn't clean the place, and we can just move in." Dean smirked, but he knew there was no way. Not because Sam would never go for it, but because he'd been living in one place for fucking months and he was starting to feel like his feet were growing into the ground. The idea of taking up residence, even someplace as nice as this, gave him the creeps.
But still, he was glad he said it because it made Sam shoot him a quick smile, the first since they'd got out of the car. "That's a novel way of using a haunting."
Dean grinned, smugly. "And you thought you got the brains." He put his hand on the stair railing and felt the cold bite of iron -- at least no ghosts would be waiting to kick him down the stairs, with this much iron.
He hurried up the stairs to look around and find this critter.
The upstairs was just as elegant as the downstairs; the stairway let out into a hallway with wood floors and tasteful art on the walls. There were five doors leading off the hall -- two on each side and one at the very end.
Dean carefully walked up to the first door and paused. No strange sounds -- no sounds at all. No cold spots. No EMF meter, because that was in the back of dad's truck, currently someplace in Mississippi.
The first room was a guy's bedroom -- probably Alex. Clean and tidy and looking more like a younger kid's room than someone about to graduate high school. Well, then, Sam had said they hadn't been up here for a couple years. Maybe redecorating wasn't a big priority.
He left the room and went to the next door, on the other side of the hall. He opened the door and found pink everything inside.
So there was a sister. Dean turned to call down to Sam, and stopped.
Then he called out, "So, Sam? A strange figure?"
The figure stared back at him, its almost-face seeming to look right at him. Then it vanished.
"Yeah," Sam's voice came from a distance, but he was obviously heading towards Dean. "Alex said his mom saw it and his little sister." By the time he finished speaking he'd reached the door of the room Dean was in.
Dean looked over his shoulder and held his hand up. "About this tall? Kinda grey, humanoid but not human? Just stands there and doesn't say anything then vanishes?"
"You saw it?" Sam immediately scanned the room.
"No, I'm just talking out of my ass." Dean rolled his eyes. "Yes, moron, I saw it. It was standing right there," he pointed. There was no sign of it now, and Dean looked around the room for any signs of what might have triggered the appearance.
There was nothing that one wouldn't expect to find in a young girl's room -- lots of pink and ruffles, dolls and slightly out-of-date boy band posters. There were shelves covered with all sorts of collectibles: dolls, figurines and a bunch of rocks.
Sam had moved past him, and was checking the spot Dean had indicated, waving his hand through the air and kneeling to check for any physical evidence.
"So what did you find out about the lake?" Dean asked. "I'm guessing you didn't come across anything like a local legend about a strange figure that appears in girl's bedrooms."
"Nope," Sam said, sounding slightly distracted as he continued poking around. "No history of anything bad happening in the lake or the cabin or the ground it's on. No burial grounds, curses, or anything like that. It's a pretty recent development too -- before they built here it was nothing but nature on this side of the lake."
"So, maybe something moved in?" Dean thought about all the spirits who could, or would, move their territory. The list was short, as most things tended to stay either in a fixed location, or were fixed to an object. He hadn't recognized the figure, which ruled out half a dozen of the spirits who roamed freely.
Fixed to an object.
Dean turned his head and looked at the pile of rocks.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Sam look in the same direction. "Or was brought in," Sam suggested.
"It can't be that easy?" Dean looked over at his brother, trying not to smile. If the sister had been collecting rocks, and had grabbed one that belonged to a rock spirit, then the spirit would have followed -- wanting her rock back.
"The law of averages, occasionally one of them would have to be that easy." Sam shrugged. "Maybe we're due?"
"Don't talk like that," Dean said, grinning. "If you jinx us, I am going to be seriously pissed off." He walked over to the rocks, and looked them over. "Got any idea which one it could be?"
"Guess it's too much to ask for the right one to be labeled, huh?" Sam moved over to stand beside him, leaning over to take a closer look.
"Maybe you can point it out?" Dean asked the room, not sure the spirit could hear them or would bother responding. He waved his hand over the rocks, waiting for any sign. He caught the look Sam was giving him, and flipped his brother off just on principle.
They waited silently for a few minutes, but nothing happened. "There's one way to make sure we get the right one," Sam finally said.
"Put 'em all back." Dean nodded. He picked up one of the smaller rocks, and turned it over. "Looks like they came from the lake." The rock was smooth and rounded, worn by immersion rather than wind.
Sam grinned at him. "Your arm feel good enough to do some pitching?"
~~~
end part two