ricky
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Posts: 36
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Sandman
Nov 19, 2005 7:13:53 GMT -5
Post by ricky on Nov 19, 2005 7:13:53 GMT -5
Disclaimers: I have no stake in Supernatural, nor the characters of Sam and Dean Winchester. We can thank the WB for them. But the rest of the story is mine.
The story itself is written to be akin to an episode, so each part is fairly long. So each part will be split into two sections so there aren't any long posts.
Okay. The goofy legal stuff out of the way, let's get started.
Part 1 –
Greensburg, PA
Jimmy looked up from the book he was reading as the door to the dorm room shut, and relaxed when he saw it was only his roommate Chris. Chris smirked a little at Jimmy as he walked over to his closet. “I told you that Urban Legends class would freak you out, Jimmy.” He started to change out of his regular clothes and into his usual bed attire of a T-shirt and running shorts. “So what are you reading over tonight?” he continued, his voice muffled as he pulled the T-shirt over his head. Jimmy made a face at his roomie, glad it couldn’t be seen. “Not so much reading anything as scanning over things, Chris. I need to make sure of a few things before I start anything.” Chris sat on the edge of his bed, looking at least moderately intrigued. “For what, if you don’t mind me asking?” Jimmy smiled at the other. “Like you really care,” he teased. “Ouch. That hurt.” Chris smiled briefly. “Seriously though. Does this have anything to do with that assignment that’s supposed to be your midterm?” “Do you think I’d be reading this for the fun of it?” “You’re certainly weird enough to do that.” “Oh, bite me.” Chris laughed. “Not if you paid me. I’m not the gay one in this room, remember.” Jimmy rolled his eyes. “You know, you’d be way more likeable if you weren’t so straight, Chris.” Both young men laughed; it was one of their favorite ways to tease each other. Chris sobered up first. “So. Your reading?” Jimmy smiled at the comment. He was always forgetting just how persistent his friend was. “All this reading does relate to an assignment for my Urban Legends class. I have this idea, and I needed to make sure something like it wasn’t already in existence elsewhere.” “Wait a minute. I thought you only had to take an existing legend and see if it could be made to fit in modern times.” “That was for our midterm, Chris. And I finished that one up a couple of weeks ago. This project is going to be for my final.” “Dude, we’re still a couple of weeks away from midterms,” Chris said with a laugh. Jimmy didn’t join in the laughing. “Better to start this one sooner than later. I really need to nail this class big time if I want to keep my G.P.A. intact.” “Let me get this straight, then. You’re going to try and create your own legend?” “Yeah. So?” “I don’t know, dude. Sounds a little wacky, even for you. Besides, I think I saw this movie.” “Chris, would you be serious for once?” “Jimmy, does this world need yet another legend?” Jimmy sighed, a little disappointed. “I didn’t expect you to understand, Chris. But I also didn’t expect you to poke fun at me.” Chris jerked back as if slapped. “That was hardly necessary, Jimmy.” He stood up and went to the door. After making sure it was locked, he switched off the overhead light. “I’m going to crash since I have that early class tomorrow.” He climbed into his bed, turning onto his side to face the wall. Jimmy bit his lip so as not to swear out loud, though he didn’t know what he’d be swearing about more: his own stupidity, or his roomie’s need to joke about everything. But he also didn’t want Chris to stay mad at him. “Chris?” Chris smiled slightly, obscurely pleased that it was Jimmy making the overture this time around. “Yeah, Jimmy?” “Sleep well, Straight Boy.” At the name, Chris laughed aloud and rolled onto his back. “You too, Gay Boy. With luck, the sandman will visit us both with some nice dreams.” “’Sandman?’” Jimmy repeated stupidly, then grinned. “You’re a genius, Roberts.” Chris grinned back. “I know that already, but thanks for noticing.” Jimmy laughed. “Go to sleep, Chris. The entire campus knows how you are if you don’t get your beauty rest.” “Oh, shut up,” Chris retorted with a laugh of his own. He did roll back onto his side to go to sleep, however. Jimmy barely noticed in his rush to get to his desk. He had to get his thoughts down on paper before he forgot them. A couple of hours later, he rubbed his tired eyes and read over what all he had written. He knew he should save it onto his computer, but he decided to wait until the morning to do that. He stifled a yawn as he quietly read aloud the final thing he had written down, making sure it sounded all right. Hearing it aloud, he thought it sounded fine, but he’d ask his professor after the next class. Giving in to a yawn, he sort of tidied up his desk, the all but fell into his bed. Managing to not yield to the temptation, he turned off his bed-, and desk-, side lamp. Before he dropped off to sleep, he thought he saw a misty, grey shape standing beside Chris’ bed. The next morning, he had forgotten all about what he had thought he saw, as he was jolted awake by Chris’ alarm. Almost automatically, he glanced at his desk to make sure his pile of notes and notebooks were still the way he had left them, since he wouldn’t have put it past Chris to have rearranged them in the night. Reassured that his desk was left alone, he crawled out of bed and shut off the alarm. He then smacked his roomie foot to wake the other. When that didn’t work, he shook Chris’ shoulder. “Wake up, sleepy. You have class in an hour,” he said as cheerfully as he could make himself be at the time of day it was. Jimmy went back to his own bed, thought about falling back into it, but started to make it up instead when it hit him that his roomie hadn’t even moved a muscle after the shake. A little annoyed, he went back over and shook the shoulder harder. This time, Chris’ head lolled over to face Jimmy. There was a small trickle of blood coming from both the nose and from the mouth. The eyes were opened wide and staring vacantly. But what caused Jimmy to scoot backwards into his own bed was the look of utter horror on Chris’ face. Jimmy took a deep breath, expecting Chris to suddenly move and start laughing at his fright. “Chris, this isn’t funny any more,” he said in a not too steady voice. When Chris still didn’t respond, Jimmy, grabbed a small mirror and held it beside Chris mouth, hoping it would fog up. When it didn’t, he gingerly reached out and put his fingers on the neck to feel for a pulse. Jimmy backed away, shaking his head. “No,” he whispered. “Noooooo!” he then shouted at the top of his lungs and for as long as he had breath to do so. In his shock, Jimmy never saw the two small piles of fine, grayish sand, one on either side of the head.
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ricky
New Member
Posts: 36
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Sandman
Nov 19, 2005 7:15:10 GMT -5
Post by ricky on Nov 19, 2005 7:15:10 GMT -5
Part 1 (cont'd) -
Somewhere in Ohio -
Sam Winchester sat at a table, staring at the screen of his laptop while he waited for his brother to join him. He wasn’t looking for anything in particular when a small article caught his attention. He had nearly finished reading it when his brother finally joined him. “Have you ever noticed the people who work at places like this?” Dean Winchester asked as he sat down. He slid Sam’s coffee to him. “And how helpful they are to everyone?” Sam looked up from the screen. “Dean, what are you talking about?” Dean nodded back to the counter where two very cute young women, as well as a just-as-cute young man, were busy with the morning rush. “He said he’d be willing to go out of his way to get me something if I wanted it.” Sam glanced over at the guy in question then looked back at Dean. “You do know he’s gay, don’t you?” Dean somehow managed to keep his jaw from dropping open. “You’re kidding? You have to be kidding. There’s no way.” Sam smiled at his brother’s confusion, though saying he smirked would probably be closer to the mark. He didn’t often have the chance to get his brother good. His expression turned serious again. “Check this one out.” He turned his computer so Dean could read the article. “Okay,” Dean said after he was done. “So?” “Doesn’t that strike you as odd at all? How often do college sophomores fall dead while they sleep?” “Overdose, maybe?” Sam clicked onto one of the article’s links and read a little more. “According to this, the guy was clean. Not even any over-the-counter drugs in his system.” “Heart attack?” “According to his family, there’s never been a history of that. And from this report, there was a little blood from the nose and mouth. But from what the roommate said, there was a look of utter horror on his face. And get this. When they started to remove the body, they found two small piles of fine grey sand, one under each ear.” Dean stared at his brother for a few seconds. “Sand?” he said disbelievingly. “Sand. Neatly piled under each ear. As if poured there. The roomie said he never even noticed the sand.” “Do you think the roomie’s lying?” Sam shook his head. “I think there’s more to this than what we’re reading here, Dean.” Dean took a sip of his coffee. “Just how far away is this place? Greensburg?” “The way you drive, about six hours.” “I’m not convinced this is something for us, but we’ll go and check it out.” Dean took another sip of his coffee. “You weren’t serious about that guy, were you?” Sam smiled as he closed the laptop. “Why?” he asked as he stood up. “You like him?” “And what’s that supposed to mean?” Dean demanded as he followed Sam out to the car. “Never mind,” he said as he opened his door. “Just get in.” Sam gave his brother another smile but said nothing else. “So what’s on your mind, Sammy?” Dean asked once they were underway. “Dean, stop calling me Sammy.” “Oh, right. Forgot.” Sam gave his brother an exasperated look. “I can’t stop wondering about that sand. There’s no rational reason for it to be where it was.” “From a beach party off campus, maybe?” “The sand would have been scattered throughout the bed. Not to mention all over the floor.” Sam fell silent as an idea took hold. Dean glanced over. “What is it?” “Did either you or Dad ever come across anything about a Sandman?” “A Sandman? Sam, the only Sandman I know of is from a song.” “Not necessarily. I have this vague memory from when we were kids about this mysterious man who could make people fall asleep by sprinkling sand in their eyes.” “And you think this could be one gone bad?” “It could be a possibility.” Dean gave his brother a skeptical look but said nothing. He didn’t have to; the look said it all for him. Sam met that look squarely. “It could be some kind of local legend. Let’s face it, Dean. Neither you nor Dad ever ventured this far east very often.” “We were out this way enough while you were safely tucked away in school. If there had been anything of the kind there, we would have heard about it.” “Not if it had been dormant whole you were here.” “You thinking this may be a cyclical thing?” Dean asked, losing his skepticism a bit. “It sounds like it could very well be. We’ll have to research it when we get there.” “We’re going to have to talk with that roommate.” “And that roommate’s professor. According to the school’s information, this professor is teaching a class about urban legends this term. For the first time in nine years.” “And now this happens. Interesting coincidence.” Sam met his brother’s glance but said nothing. Nothing needed to be said.
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ricky
New Member
Posts: 36
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Sandman
Dec 2, 2005 17:58:28 GMT -5
Post by ricky on Dec 2, 2005 17:58:28 GMT -5
Part 2 –
Dean pulled into a space in the visitor’s parking area and looked at his brother. “Nice place,” he noted. “Definitely not a party school.” “Most of the students aren’t here for partying, Dean,” Sam said as he climbed out of the car. For some reason he didn’t want to really look at, the comment annoyed him. “No need to get all riled up, Sam. I wasn’t meaning anything by it. Though you do have to admit that a good party is a great way to get rid of some stress.” “You almost get lucky that one time, and now you want to turn into a party boy. Dean, you definitely aren’t the one for that scene. You’ll never have the time for it.” “I don’t need you to remind me of that fact. I wasn’t the one who left to head off to college.” Sam sighed testily. He wished his brother would just let the college thing go. “Do we have to go through this again? I wanted a life as close to normal as I could get. Dad never understood that.” “I don’t either, Sam. But things still wouldn’t have changed for you. You are who you are, and hiding from it wasn’t going to change that.” Dean finally climbed out of the car and looked around. “Well, that’s certainly a lovely feature,” he commented, pointing to his left. Sam had noted the cemetery almost as soon as he was out of the car. “You thinking this could just be some kind of vengeful spirit?” “Just keeping my options open, Sam. If that’s all this is, we won’t have to go far to fix it.” “If that’s all it is, why would it be bothering the school? That stream is between the campus and the cemetery.” “Maybe the cemetery wasn’t always there. Maybe the physical remains were moved before the school was started.” “But the spirit stayed where it had been first buried? Is that possible? I always thought that the removal and reburial of the physical remains required a priest’s blessing.” “I don’t know, Sam. That’s just one of the things we need to find out.” Dean started walking toward the campus. “And Sam?” he added as almost an afterthought. “Try not to let all these pretty girls distract you this time.” He flashed a sly grin back at his brother. Sam let out a disbelieving laugh and shook his head before catching up with his brother. “You know,” Dean said after a few minutes. “I could actually get used to a place like this.” He glanced back at the attractive young lady who was speculatively watching the brothers. Sam noted the direction of his brother’s glance and smiled slightly. “You’d be bored inside of a week, Dean.” “You think so?” “I know so. “You’re not a firm believer in anything close to a routine.” Dean looked up slightly at his brother. “And what were doing isn’t at all routine?” Sam’s smile widened slightly. “Since when do we ever have a set way of approaching things? There’s the building we want,” he added, turning to the right. “What was that room number again?” Dean asked as he followed Sam into the building. “333.” “Another nine.” “Could be just a coincidence.” Dean gave his brother a look at told the other that he didn’t believe it was a coincidence. But he said nothing about it as they climbed the moderately busy stairwell and emerged on the third floor. About halfway down the hall, they found the room. “He’s not in,” a voice said to their left before Sam could knock on the door. The brothers turned and started briefly at the young man in front of them. He was only ten feet away, and wearing nothing but a towel. Dean recovered first. “Do you happen to know where he’s at?” “He’s out in the Grove,” the young man said with a shrug. “Said something about not wanting to work on this project of his inside any more if he could at all help it.” “What project would that be?” Sam asked. “He wouldn’t say exactly, but I’m guessing it’s for that freaky class of his.” “Freaky class?” “He’s taking this class about urban legends for some reason.” The young man shivered slightly. “There’s no way I could ever do that. Stuff like that can keep me awake for nights on end.” “They keep me awake at night sometimes as well,” Dean said with a friendly smile. “Listen, if you can tell us where to find the Grove, we’ll leave you to whatever it is you were doing before we showed up.” “Oh, this,” the young man said with a laugh. “My roomie always thinks it’s funny to lock me out of the room while I’m showering. Good thing it’s not a co-ed floor, since the girls love to steal towels from the boys if we’re not careful. “The Grove?” Sam asked mildly. “Oh right. Sorry. Just go down the steps at the end of the hall here, go out of the left-hand door, and you’ll see it.” “Thanks,” Dean said. “Good luck with your roommate.” He started down the hall, with Sam following. As they did, they could hear the young man pound on the door of his room and say, “Scott, if you don’t unlock this door right now…” The rest of the threat was lost in the general conversation on the floor. “What could this project be that he wouldn’t want to be inside to work on it?” Sam asked once they had reached the relatively safety of the stairwell. “Maybe he was working on it the night his roommate died,” Dean said, his tone indicating he was merely speculating. “And doesn’t want to be reminded of that fact by being in the same room while he works on it.” “He could do that by working in the library, Dean. I’m wondering if maybe he’s afraid of accidentally invoking something. And doesn’t want anyone else to be caught up in it.” The pair exited the building and immediately saw the Grove. So named for the three rings of maple trees surrounding a small stone area in the center. A stone table with stone benches were also in that center area, and a young man could be seen at the table. “Seems peaceful enough out there,” Dean commented. “Notice anything odd about those trees?” Sam asked, walking cautiously towards the Grove. “Not immediately. Why?” “Three concentric rings of nine trees,” Sam would have said more, but they had reached the inner ring of trees. “Jimmy Logan?” Dean asked upon reaching the table. Jimmy looked up in surprise; he hadn’t known anyone was even nearby. “That’s me,” he said as he looked back down at the open notebook in front of him. “Hope you don’t mind if I finish writing things down. I’ll forget them otherwise.” Sam glanced down at the table, and the papers taking over half of it. “This for your project? For your class?” “Every page of it,” Jimmy said, sounding distracted. “I had been going to toss the whole mess after what happened, but my professor said for me to keep at it. And I think Chris wouldn’t want me to give it up either.” “Chris was your roommate?” “Best friend for years. I’m sure you’ve heard what happened.” “Only what the media has been reporting,” Dean said with an easy smile. “But you know the media. Always hyping the story.” Jimmy made a face as he stopped writing and put his pencil down. “Nothing much to hype with this one. It hypes itself quite well. I suppose that’s why I haven’t told everything to the investigators.” “What sort of things haven’t you told?” Dean asked, keeping his voice mildly curious. “Jimmy,” Sam said reassuringly as he noted the younger man’s hesitancy. “It’s all right. We’re here to help you with this.” He sat down beside Jimmy. Jimmy looked at Sam, noting how good looking Sam was. “You are seriously hot,” he said off the top of his head, more to keep from saying anything else about his roommate’s death. He wasn’t sure if he could trust these two just yet. Something was telling him he could, but he held back. Dean snickered as Sam blushed slightly. “I know,” Jimmy continued. “You’re straight. You both are. But I had to tell you that…” He looked questioningly at Sam. “Sam,” Sam said with a smile, thought he was still slightly pink. “Sorry if I embarrassed you, but I can be a bit too direct for my own good with things like this.” Jimmy laughed briefly. “Chris would always call me a horn dog, yet he was getting it more than I was.” “Did you and Chris ever…?” “No. Not that I wouldn’t have if he had wanted to. But he never asked, and I wasn’t going to again.” “Again?” Jimmy gave Sam a speculative look. “It’s not important. But I don’t regret anything in relation to him.” He sighed. “What is it you want from me, Sam?” Sam glanced at Dean briefly before returning his gaze to Jimmy. He knew the younger man was looking for some reason to trust him before telling of what happened. “Just tell us what happened that night, Jimmy. I know you don’t have any reason to trust us just yet, but if we’re to help you we need to know.” “How can you possibly help against something like this?” “There are ways, Jimmy,” Dean said, trying to be helpful. “What sort of ways?” Jimmy asked suspiciously. “Like locking me away as my brains soften?” “You’re not insane in any way, Jimmy,” Sam said soothingly. “Look, you have an open enough mind to accept that the physical world isn’t all there is. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be taking this class. Right?” Jimmy thought about that. “All right. I can accept that.” “Taking this a stage further, if there are those supernatural things around the country, don’t you think that there would also be those who could know how to counter them?” “Are you saying that you know how to counter things like this?” “We’re no experts by any stretch, but my brother and I do have some working knowledge about these kind of forces. And if one of those forces is loose on campus, we need to know as much as we can so we can prevent more people from being hurt.” Sam ignored Dean’s glare and focused on Jimmy. “Will you help us, Jimmy?” Jimmy looked at Sam’s earnest face and nodded. “All right. I’ll help you.” He took a breath before continuing. “I didn’t tell everything I knew because I didn’t want anyone to think I had gone off the deep end, so I left out a number of things.” Dean sat down on Jimmy’s other side but didn’t say anything. Yet. “I’ll spare you the boring, mundane details,” Jimmy said after a few seconds. “Since those are all part of the public record. No point with boring you with those. But I was working on this project that night.” “Just what is this project, Jimmy?” Sam asked quietly. “It’s something for my Urban Legends class. For our final exam, we’re supposed to create as plausible a legend as we can come up with. Right before Chris had gone to bed that night, he had made some comment about hoping the Sandman would bring us both some good dreams. So I then got this bright idea about a version of this Sandman taking memories while someone slept instead of bringing dreams and left tiny piles of sand behind as a by-product of its theft. A couple of hours later, I had some rough ideas down on paper and was ready to crash. But as I was turning the light out, I thought I had seen a sort of hazy shape standing beside Chris’ bed.” Sam’s gaze caught Dean’s at that comment. “When I was awakened in the morning by Chris’ alarm,” Jimmy continued, “I had forgotten all about the figure. It wasn’t until I saw them carefully removing the sand from the bed that I remembered what I had thought I had seen. That’s when it hit me that my so-called original legend may not be original at all.” “What makes you say that?” Dean asked. “Because Chris was dead, and it was in a way that couldn’t have been coincidence.” Jimmy leafed through his notebook and tore out a couple of sheets. He handed those to Sam. “I have these particular notes copied in a couple of other places, so I’m giving them to you.” He glanced at his watch and started to shove everything into his backpack. “I have class in half-an-hour.” Sam stood up as Jimmy started to leave. “Jimmy, can you tell me something? Why do you think you were left alone and Chris was the one to be attacked?” Jimmy paused but didn’t turn around. “Once you read over those notes, you’ll understand better.” He all but ran from the Grove. Dean rounded on Sam as soon as Jimmy was out of earshot. “What did you tell him about us for? He didn’t need to know that.” Sam was no less fervent. “He needed a reason to trust us, Dean. One he could actually believe a little more than a general statement of wanting to be helpful.” “We’re supposed to be secret with what we do.” “And all those others we’ve helped before don’t remember us after we’re done?” Sam asked acidly. “He was going to find out sometime, Dean. And I never told him we Hunt these forces.” He stood up. “Come on. Let’s go see if we can understand his meaning about why he wasn’t attacked.” He left the Grove. Dean glared at his brother’s back for a second before he, too, left. But he was still annoyed with the whole thing.
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ricky
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Sandman
Dec 2, 2005 17:59:02 GMT -5
Post by ricky on Dec 2, 2005 17:59:02 GMT -5
Part 2 (cont'd) -
“Understand?” Dean asked in disbelief. “How can I understand when I can’t even read these things?” He waved his hand at the notes. The brothers were in a hotel room about fifteen minutes away from the college, looking over Jimmy’s notes. Dean had given up after a few minutes of straining his eyes. “And how can you possibly read that?” he continued. “I’ve read smaller writing than this,” Sam replied dryly. “ Now let me read for a minute.” “Sam, talk to me here,” Dean said after a couple of minutes of trying to wait patiently, definitely not his strong suit. “I think Jimmy may have been on to something here.” “What makes you say that?” “Just some impressions from his original notes. He’s added to them since that first night, but since the writing’s a bit different, I can pick out the newer stuff. One of his later warnings is to make sure to never say the being’s name unless somehow protected.” “Somehow protected? Is that meaning what I think it does?” “Very likely, but we can get to that later. According to these preliminary notes, this being normally feeds on those people who are very short on sleep. It makes putting the victims to sleep that much easier.” “So there is a sleep factor involved in this?” Dean asked, interested in spite of himself. “And any college would be a perfect feeding ground, since college students have made sleep deprivation into an art.” Sam said that with a wry grin. Dean stuck out his lower lip thoughtfully. “Makes sense in that respect. What else?” “It’s somehow able to determine the oldest memories it can feed upon and takes those. There’s no explanation of how it can do this, but it can. And as a result of this drain, small piles of fine sand are left behind. Very small piles for a general feeding.” “So that’s why Jimmy was thinking this being was what killed his roommate.” “Exactly.” Sam looked up at his brother briefly before returning his gaze to the papers in his hand. “Now we come to where Jimmy started to really get into his idea. Every nine years, this being goes into a feeding frenzy. No reason for why, it just does. And instead of just taking a few memories, it takes them all. As a result of the drain, the victim is killed.” “What is going on with that nine anyway?” Dean demanded. He could almost grasp the significance, but it kept eluding him. “The number theme continues. During it’s frenzy, it kills a total of nine victims. And each victim is killed exactly ninety-nine hours after the preceding one.” “Ninety-nine hours? Why did he choose that length of time? “He may not even know. There’s more, though. The being becomes corporeal during feeding and remains in that state for upwards of nine hours. It’s also the only time it’s vulnerable.” “Vulnerable to what?” “This set of notes doesn’t say. I’m guessing Jimmy hadn’t worked that one out at that point.” Sam squinted briefly at the page in front of him. “Now this is interesting. When it’s in a frenzy, it’ll normally attack the elderly on account of their minds being less resistant and having more memories. Unless otherwise invoked.” “Unless otherwise invoked?” Dean repeated. “You’re still reading the original notes? Nothing new?” “I haven’t read anything to you that was added after that first night.” “So when the roommate made the comment about the dreams, he actually did the invoking needed to bring it to that room. But why was Jimmy left alone?” “If what he saw wasn’t just wishful thinking or the result of a tired brain, he was still awake when it start to drain the roommate.” “So he just fell asleep without first checking?” “Not everyone is like the two of us, Dean. He wouldn’t have had any reason to think it was anything other than a figment of his imagination. Especially after a night reading over the assorted legends floating around. And according to his notes, interrupting a feeding is almost certain death for the one who dared to interrupt.” “You think he was actually starting to believe in this thing?” Dean asked skeptically. “The thing he had only written down a few hours beforehand?” “Subconsciously, he may have been doing just that, Dean,” Sam said. “And if everything else written here is true in any way, then this little charm probably is effective for the twenty-seven hours claimed.” “Another nine? And what charm? It’s actually something spoken?” “Definitely something spoken.” “Let’s hear this one.” Dean didn’t bother to hide his skepticism. “‘Dreams will come; dreams will go. Sandman please; leave me alone.’” “That’s it?” Dean repeated the verse. “Doesn’t seem like much of a way to deter something.” “If everything here is valid, that little verse is what kept Jimmy alive.” Dean thought about that. “We need to get the rest of his notes.” Sam looked at his brother solemnly. “We also need to talk with Jimmy’s professor.” “How are we going to manage that one? Just walk into his class and start asking questions?” “It’s worked before.” Before Sam could say anything further, Dean’s cell phone rang. “Hello,” Dean answered. “Yes, this is Dean.” His eyes widened at something said on the other end. “No, that won’t be a problem. Right. In an hour.” Sam looked questioningly at his brother. Dean didn’t know whether to smile or grimace. “That was Jimmy’s professor. He wants to meet with us in his office in an hour.” “Dean, how did he even know your number?” “He said that Dad gave it to him.”
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ricky
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Post by ricky on Jan 1, 2006 6:37:18 GMT -5
Part 3 –
Dean and Sam were walking across the night-darkened campus. They were going to be a bit early for their meeting, but they both wanted some answers. Their walk was quiet, and fairly dark, since the lights along the sidewalk were doing very little to brighten the night up. “Did Dad ever mention to you about knowing any professors?” Sam asked his brother. The pair of them had been discussing this new complication in their search nearly without pause since the professor’s phone call. “Dad didn’t exactly confide everything to me, Sam,” Dean said flatly, hoping irrationally that his brother would just drop this for a few minutes. “I know he told you a lot more than he would ever tell me. Even before I went off to college.” “That’s because I’m the eldest. I could handle knowing more because I was older than you. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you with anything.” “Then why didn’t he ever tell me anything like he told you when I reached the same age you were first told, Dean? I always had the feeling that I was only around with him because Mom wasn’t there to watch me for him.” Sam broke off suddenly as he spotted a light in the Grove. Dean followed his brother’s gaze. “Let’s check that out.” He silently trotted to the grove, with Sam at his heels. But all they saw in the center of the Grove was… “Jimmy?” Sam asked, stepping into the light. Jimmy looked up at the sound of his name. “Hey, Sam,” he said without much surprise. Sam moved forward and sat down on the bench beside the younger man. “Why are you out here?” “I couldn’t take being inside. Not tonight.” “What’s tonight?” “Sam,” Dean interrupted. “We have an appointment. Remember?” Sam didn’t even turn to look at his brother. “You go on. I’ll stay here for a while.” “Sam,” Dean said warningly. Sam heard the warning and stood up, shooting an apologetic glance at Jimmy. Walking over to his brother, Sam grabbed Dean’s arm and pulled his brother just outside the first circle of trees. “Dean, I can’t leave him here alone like this. Not now.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” Dean asked angrily. “It’s Jimmy’s professor we’re supposed to be meeting, not Jimmy. And the professor is expecting to see both of us.” Sam glanced back at Jimmy. “Then the professor is just going to have to make due with you. Something’s going on here, something very odd. And I have to find out what it is.” “Are you sure you’re not seeing something that really isn’t there?” “Dean, think about this for a minute. We get a call out of the blue from a professor here who claims to know Dad. That same professor wants us to meet him here on campus. And when we get here, that same professor’s student is here in the one place that can’t be rationally explained by anyone. That same student whose notes we read an hour ago, by the way.” “You really are jumping at shadows, Sammy.” “Dean, stop calling me that. And I’m not jumping at shadows here. Something very strange is happening, and I’m willing to bet some of the answers are inside of Jimmy’s head. Even if he doesn’t consciously know it yet.” Dean held up his hands. “All right. Have it your way. But I think you’re just wasting your time.” “I don’t think I am,” Sam said intently. “Fine. Whatever. I’ll tell the professor you said hello,” Dean added as he left the Grove. Sam shook his head as he watched Dean leaving. When he couldn’t see his brother, he rejoined Jimmy in the center.
Dean was still swearing silently at his brother as he entered the faculty office building. He was having a hard time believing that Sam could seriously think that a college kid with a way-out theory could have any answers. He was having a hard time believing there was anything here that needed their attention as far as that went. But he couldn’t discount Sam’s instincts, since his brother did have a knack of finding the oddest things at just the right time. Remembering that always reassured Dean that his brother hadn’t lost any of his edge when he went off to college. His temper had cooled to something close to normal for him when he reached the correct office and knocked on the door. “Come in,” a deep voice on the other side said. Dean opened the door, expecting it to squeak for some reason. “Evening, Professor,” he said, closing the door behind him. “Evening, Dean.” The professor glanced briefly at the door. “Your brother not joining us tonight?” “No, sir. We saw one of your students in the Grove on the way over, and Sam elected to stay there.” “I’m presuming you’re meaning Jimmy, since I doubt you’ve met any of my other students yet.” “That’s right, sir.” “Please call me Walter, Dean.” Walter took a sip from the mug in front of him, and grimaced at the taste. “What was Jimmy doing in the Grove in the first place? And why at night?” “Those were a couple of things Sam was hoping to find out. I hope. So, Walter. Just how do you know my dad?” “For a number of reasons, I can’t go into any great detail at this time. Let me just say that he did me a favor of sorts a few years back.” “Nine years ago, maybe?” Dean asked bluntly. “What makes you say that?” “That number has been cropping up far too many time to be a coincidence. What happened here nine years ago?” Walter laughed briefly. “You definitely don’t waste time, do you? You are definitely your father’s son.” Dean simply raised an eyebrow at the comment. Walter coughed once, as if to cover up a slip. “Well, then. To keep this as short as I may, I had just started my career here and was teaching a number of disparate courses.” “Including the one about urban legends,” Dean interjected. “That’s correct. During the course of the term, I began to notice and number of odd occurrences around the campus, particularly around the Grove. At this point, it’s not important what those occurrences were. Through some unknown way, your father learned of what was happening here and came to investigate things, determined to ‘fix the problem,’ as he put it.” “And was he able to?” “He had thought he did.” “And where do you come into this?” “I had been keeping an unofficial record of everything that had been going on. So when your father started asking questions about the events here, I was able to answer some of his questions.” “So how does this all tie in with what may be going on here right now?” “I’m starting to see some similarities. And your father told me, before he left, that if things started ‘acting up again’ as he put it, I was to get in touch with him in some way.” Dean nodded at that. “So when you said that Dad had given you my number, you had gotten his recording giving my number to call instead.” Walter smiled slightly at the comment, opening a desk drawer as he did so. He pulled out two folders from the drawer, one thicker than the other and bound with twine. “The thinner folder has all of Jimmy’s notes in it. The thicker, bound folder has all my observations from the past nine years ago, since I’ve learned a few things since your father’s departure. For the record, Jimmy has no knowledge of this folder.” He pushed the folders across the desk to Dean. “I suggest you and your brother look over these closely.” “Thanks for the advice,” Dean said flippantly, though he wasn’t looking forward to another go at Jimmy’s writing. “Looks like Sam and I have some long nights ahead of us, so I better go and collect him and head back to the hotel. Thanks for your help, Walter.” He stood up, shook hands with Walter, and picked up the folders. “One last thing, Dean,” Walter said quietly before Dean opened the door. “I didn’t get the recorded message. I spoke with your father.” Dean stared at Walter silently.
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ricky
New Member
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Post by ricky on Jan 1, 2006 6:37:50 GMT -5
part 3 (cont'd) -
“I didn’t mean to walk off like that, Jimmy,” Sam apologized as he sat back down. “You really think I have some answer up here?” Jimmy asked, tapping the side of his head with his index finger. Sam stared for a few seconds before breathing out a laugh. “You weren’t really that far away, Sam. Your brother doesn’t think much of me, does he?” “I wouldn’t go that far, Jimmy. He’s just not convinced that there’s anything here he and I should be concerned about.” “And you are?” Jimmy asked skeptically. “I’m convinced that there’s more here than meets the eye. And that’s enough for me.” “Care to tell me just how you’re going to find out what it is you think I know? Going to promise me a fun weekend?” Sam laughed at the look he was being given. “Sorry, Jimmy. Nothing like that.” “Pity. You look like you’d be fun. So what is it you’re going to do?” “Actually, I’d just like to borrow your notes. The full set of them. If you have them,” Sam added. “I don’t have them with me at the moment.” “They’re in your room?” Jimmy nodded, his face set. “And I’m not touching them until the morning.” Sam nodded, knowing when not to push things. “That may be the best thing for you right now. Just give yourself a night off from that kind of thinking.” Jimmy smiled at Sam a bit sadly. “I wish I could stop thinking about this, Sam. But I can’t. No matter what I do, my mind always returns to this project. Chris used to tease me about being way too focused for my own good.” “There’s nothing wrong with being focused, Jimmy.” “But to the exclusion of everything else? I’m having to force myself to stop thinking about this so I can concentrate on my other classes. Chris was always good at finding ways to distract me when I got like this. But Chris is gone, and it’s my fault he is.” “Why do you think it’s your fault?” “Who else’s could it be, Sam? I’m the one who created this entire mess by coming up with that legend.” Sam saw the desperation in Jimmy’s eyes and couldn’t help but respond to it. He definitely knew what the other was going through, since he still felt the guilt of Jessica’s death in him. He decided to take a chance at that point. “You’re not the one to blame for this, Jimmy. And you never will be. Nor do I think you’ve come up with something completely new as far as what we may be dealing with.” “Are you saying…? What is it you’re saying?” “I’m thinking you may have stumbled onto something that was already in existence but wasn’t ever documented. For whatever reason. Did you ever work out how your legend was originally formed? Or how it could be killed?” Jimmy shook his head. “No. Nothing like that.” “Do you have any reason why you keep coming here?” Jimmy looked confused at the question. “It just seemed to be a perfect place to work on things, at least during the day.” “And at night?” “I’m not sure, actually. It just seems safer here than anywhere else for whatever reason. I think I’m about the only one on the whole campus who thinks so, since everyone else thinks this place is creepy.” Jimmy sighed at looked at Sam. “I really don’t want to deal with this any more tonight, Sam.” Sam looked at Jimmy sympathetically. As much as he wanted to know what the younger man was thinking, he knew he couldn’t push the issue. At least not yet. “Jimmy, what is it? That’s the second time you’ve mentioned something about tonight.” Jimmy shook his head as he placed a hand on Sam’s knee. His other hand, shaking slightly, reached out slowly towards Sam’s face. Sam managed not to react to the hand on his knee, but he backed his head away from the hand heading towards his face. “Jimmy,” he said steadily. “No. I can’t.” Jimmy sighed as he brought both hands back down to his lap. He had known he wasn’t likely to get far, but he was still disappointed. “I’m sorry, Jimmy.” “I’m sorry too, Sam.” Jimmy tried smiling but didn’t quite make it. “I suppose you’ll be wanting to leave now, won’t you?” Sam nodded. “But it’s not for the reasons you think. I can’t hold this against you, but it’s just not for me.” He stood up. “You have my number. When you’re ready to talk, call me. Doesn’t matter when.” He started to leave. Jimmy watched Sam leaving, acknowledging to himself that Sam was right. “Sam?” he said quietly. “About tonight.” Sam paused beside one of the trees, hand on the tree.” “I hope I’m wrong,” Jimmy continued. “But if I’m not, you’ll know why tomorrow.” “Thanks, Jimmy,” Sam said, turning to give the younger man a smile of understanding. He then resumed his walking and slowly made his was back to the car to wait for his brother. To do some thinking.
Dean found his brother leaning against the passenger door, watching the stream tumble over the rocks in the moonlight. “So?” he asked, drawing the word out slightly. Sam sighed. “Wish I could tell you that things went just great. I suppose you’re going to tell me that you told me so.” Dean leaned back against the car beside his brother. “Didn’t he tell you anything at all?” Sam had long since decided to keep Jimmy’s trying to make a move on him quiet. “Tell me, no. Hint a lot, definitely. He seems to feel there’s going to be something happening tonight. He also feels that the Grove is the safest place to be for the night.” “He thinks there’s going to be another attack?” “So I’m left to guess from his words. But the time would be all wrong from the notes he gave us.” “Remember, those are the first set of notes. He’s likely revised them a couple of times.” “And his notes are safely in his room, and I don’t fancy breaking into his room to get them.” “We won’t have to. Jimmy’s professor gave me a copy of Jimmy’s notes. As well as his everything from what happened nine years ago.” Sam looked quickly at his brother. “Nine years ago? So we are dealing with something cyclical?” “So it would seem. And it was also something that Dad arrived too late to stop permanently.” “So Dad was here. But why didn’t he put any of this into his journal?” “Could be due to a lack of anything concrete. But the professor kept everything he had written down, both from that time and what he’s learned since then.” “So we’re left to face something not even Dad knew much about.” “I think Dad may have known more than he was letting on to the professor,” Dean disagreed. “But for some reason, he wasn’t able to put that into the journal.”
Scott wasn’t completely sober as he walked down the hall to his dorm room. But it was a Friday night, and it had been a very rough week in the dorm, with Chris’ weird death and all. So when some friends asked him if he’d like to go out for a few drinks, he readily agreed. He didn’t have enough to get drunk, but enough to have a pleasant buzz. So he wasn’t too far gone to notice the piece of paper sticking to the door knob of his and Matt’s room. At first, he thought it was a warn-off and smiled. He briefly wondered who his roommate had managed to hook up with for the night; his bets were on Jimmy. But then he noticed that his name was on the paper. Curious as to who was leaving him notes on the door, he tore it from the knob and opened it.” ‘Scott,’ the note began. ‘I have a huge migraine and am going to try and sleep it off. Hope you’re no too drunk to read this. Matt.’ Having seen first-and just how ban his roommate’s migraines could get, Scott debated finding someplace else to crash for the night. But as he had an early class that morning, he opted to be as quiet as he could. He swore briefly as he fumbled around with the key and the lock, but he finally managed to open the door. Just enough to squeeze in without letting in a lot of light from the hall. Inside, the room was nearly as dark as a tomb, which wasn’t a huge surprise. Fortunately, Scott didn’t need any light to be able to find his toothbrush and toothpaste; there was no way he was going to go to bed with his mouth feeling like it did. As he was leaving the room, he thought he saw something out of the corner of his eye. But he just shrugged it off as his tired imagination working overtime. It wasn’t until he was rinsing his mouth out that he remembered what Jimmy had said he thought he had seen the night Chris died. Scott ran down the hall and hurriedly opened the door. To find nothing there. He laughed at his jumpy self as he shut the door and locked it. While his eyes adjusted to the darkness again, he changed into his usual sleeping attire of a T-shirt and his boxer shorts. As he pulled on the shirt, he thought he heard a muffled sound coming from Matt’s direction. Looking over to his roommate’s bed, he once again saw something indistinct standing there. “Who is that?” he asked quietly, hoping it was just another guy from the floor. When there was no response, he cautiously approached the figure he was sure he was seeing and reached out to touch the shoulder closest to him. And felt his hand slip right through. Scott’s eyes widened at the sensation of his hand slipping through something. And his eyes widened further as the figure turned towards him and met his eyes. Scott opened his mouth to yell…
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Sandman
Jan 4, 2006 18:00:59 GMT -5
Post by xxjared4lifexx on Jan 4, 2006 18:00:59 GMT -5
Hey Ricky!! Great story so far. I really enjoyed it. uw irte really good buddy. Keep it up. cya. ;D
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ricky
New Member
Posts: 36
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Sandman
Jan 14, 2006 18:56:52 GMT -5
Post by ricky on Jan 14, 2006 18:56:52 GMT -5
Part 4 –
Sam sighed and rubbed his tired eyes in an attempt to alleviate his eye strain. He had spent a vast portion of his morning reading over both sets of notes that Dean had acquired the previous night, trying to find answers to the questions he needed to solve the most. But in neither source did he find what he was looking for. Instead, all he found were more questions. A fumbling at the door brought him to full awareness in an eye blink. Standing up in one fluid motion, he quickly moved to the door so as to be behind it when it opened. He held himself readiness, and relaxed when he saw it was his brother opening the door. Dean nearly jumped out of his skin when he turned to shut the door and saw Sam standing behind it. “Feeling more than a little paranoid, Sam?” he asked sardonically to caver up his own jumpiness. “No more than you are,” Sam retorted with a slight smile. “I thought for a second you were going to wet yourself.” Dean shot his brother a disgusted look. “Ha, ha, ha. Grab one of these bags, you comedian.” Sam’s smiled widened as he did so. “Looks like you have way more than lunch here.” “I figured I would pick up a few other things while I was out anyway.” Sam nodded, not even needing to ask what those other things were. “He cleared a space on the small table and sat his bag down. Dean also sat his bags down, mostly on the floor. “Find out anything useful?” he had gone on his shopping trip in an attempt to relieve his frustration at not being able to figure out either set of notes.” “Yes and no.” Dean dug into one of the bags and pulled out his lunch, then handed the bag over to his brother. “What exactly is that meaning, Sam?” he asked before taking a bite of his sandwich. Sam swallowed his mouthful before answering. “I can honestly say I have no more idea of what we may be facing than I did last night. I did find out some things that may be useful down the line, but nothing of what we need right now.” “Like anything resembling a name for this thing.” Sam shrugged slightly. “I think Jimmy’s name for this is as good as a description as anything. It certainly describes the after-effects well enough. But there’s nothing about how this formed in the first place. And since we don’t know that much…” “We don’t know how to kill it,” Dean finished. “That’s just great news.” “For all that they aren’t really in-depth, Jimmy’s notes are actually a better guide for what we can possibly expect. The professor’s notes provide a lot of details, but all they really do is confirm everything Jimmy already had written down. And some of Jimmy’s notes aren’t even touched upon by the professor.” “You think maybe Jimmy is being guided with this idea of his.?” “You mean by something that’s in opposition to whatever’s doing the attacking?” Sam asked in surprise. That idea never occurred to him. “That goes well beyond anything I’ve ever thought to be possible in relation to what we do.” “It’s beyond my knowledge as well, but Dad had mentioned once that he thought that kind of intervention was possible. And we both know that there are sometimes helpful spirits.” Sam shook his head. “We still have way too many loose ends with this one, Dean.” “We’ll manage, Sam. We do have a little time we can play with before this thing attacks again.” “Time is something we never have enough of, Dean.” “Maybe this time, we do.” “No. Actually, we don’t have as much time as you think we do. We’re starting to lose time with each subsequent attack.” Dean took a look at his brother’s intense expression and swallowed his reflex reaction to Sam’s comment. “What are you getting at?” “The time between attacks decreases each time by nine hours. And the time from the first attack to the second one is eighty-one hours.” “Is that time scale based solely on the notes?” “I double-checked it with the reports from the last sequence.” “So eighty-one hours from the roommate’s death would have been when?” “It would have been an hour ago, but…” Dean steamrolled over the rest of his brother’s comment. “So why was Jimmy so convinced that something was going to happen last night?” “What if Jimmy’s roommate wasn’t the first victim?” Sam pulled over his laptop. “Eighty-one hours prior to the roommate’s death, an elderly woman residing less than a mile away from the campus was found dead in her home. Apparently, she had died while she was asleep. When she was removed from the scene, they had found twin piles of sand on the bed.” He gave Dean a serious look. “The family requested an autopsy, since the woman had been in good health.” “What did the autopsy find?” “According to the autopsy report, her brain had been turned into sand. For obvious reasons, that part of the report was never made public.” “I’m not going to ask how you found it either. But, turned to sand?” Dean scratched his head, trying to remain skeptical but failing miserably. “I haven’t heard of anything that could do that.” “Neither have I. And I’m betting Dad hadn’t either, since there’s no references to it in his journal. So I decided to backtrack and look at what records I could pull up from nine years ago.” “And?” “This isn’t anything new we’re dealing with, Dean. There are too many similarities for this to be starting up because some college student came up with an idea for it.” Sam looked levelly at his brother. “And we need to find the full history of the Grove. Once we find that, I’m positive we’ll be able to find the answers we need.” He was going to say more, but his cell phone jangled to life. “Sam here,” he answered. He felt his eyes widen as he met his brother’s gaze.
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ricky
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Sandman
Jan 14, 2006 18:57:31 GMT -5
Post by ricky on Jan 14, 2006 18:57:31 GMT -5
Part 4 (cont'd) -
“I’m starting to get tired of seeing this place,” Dean complained as he followed Sam to the Grove. “Don’t hang on to that feeling, “ Sam told his brother, “since you’re going to know it a lot better before the day is out.” “I hope that doesn’t mean what I think it does.” “We both know there’s something unusual about the place. This is the perfect time to see what can be found.” Sam turned and smiled at his brother. “Unless you want to deal with Jimmy.” Dean made a face. “You can have Jimmy all to yourself, Sam. I’ll start right here,” he added abruptly as he stopped just inside the outer ring of trees. “At least it’s daylight. This place is just plain creepy at night.” Maybe it was designed to be,” Sam said quietly. “To keep people away from something that needed to stay hidden.” Dean looked sharply at his brother. “You think the source of this is in here somewhere?” “Maybe the source of it. Maybe the cure for it as well.” Sam resumed his walking toward the center, leaving his brother to start his work. “Jimmy?” he said as soon as he reached the stone benches surrounding the table. Jimmy jumped to his feet at the sound of Sam’s voice and moved quickly towards Sam, as if he were going to hug Sam. But he stopped short of doing so. “Hey, Sam,” he said in a muted voice. “Thanks for coming so quickly.” He looked at Sam almost pleadingly. Sam clenched his teeth briefly as he weighed his options. Then, looking as if he were sticking his hands into a blast furnace, he took Jimmy into a very loose hug. He was hoping that Dean wasn’t noticing this. For his part, Jimmy clung to Sam as if Sam were his last hope of escaping a burning building. “What happened?” Sam asked after a very long thirty seconds for him. “Scott and Matt are dead,” Jimmy said as he released Sam from his grip and sat back down. Sam almost stumbled into the table as he sat down hurriedly. “It killed two this time?” “I think it was only going after Matt, and Scott happened to get in the way.” “What makes you say that?” Jimmy took a deep breath. “Last night, not long after you had left and I had gone inside, I found Matt trying to walk to his room with his eyes shut. He would always get these huge migraines, so we all knew what to do. Except last night’s was worse than normal, since he couldn’t even walk straight. I managed to get him to his room and into his bed.” “So he was going to try and sleep it off?” “Try was definitely the right word, since he could probably see sound in that state.” “So he would have been an easy target for this thing. So why would it have gone after the roommate?” “Scott was always a bit protective of Matt, though none of us ever knew why. So if he thought he saw the same thing I thought I saw the night Chris died, he would have tried to interfere to keep Matt safe.” “And incurred its wrath. So what happened that makes you think that the roommate was trying to interrupt?” “I was mostly going from the look on Scott’s face.” Sam absorbed that comment silently. Then, “Jimmy, are you the one who found them this morning?” “It’s a long story, but I was. I should have called you sooner so you could see things, but…” “No,” Sam interrupted. “You did what you had to do.” “Sam,” Dean called from just outside the inner ring of trees. Sam was at his brother’s side in a couple of seconds, Jimmy trailing after. “What do you make of this?” Dean asked, kneeling beside a small flat square stone mostly covered by the grass. Sam knelt down beside his brother for a closer look. “An old burial marker? Or a memorial marker of some kind?” Dean pulled out his pocket knife and started to clean off the old mud and dirt embedded into the stone. Sam looked up at Jimmy. “You know anything about this? Anything at all?” Jimmy was still staring at the stone, as if seeing something he had known was there but hadn’t expected to see. Sam stood and shook the younger man’s shoulders briefly. “Jimmy?” Jimmy blinked as Sam shook him. And seemed to emerge from whatever had held him enthralled. “I’m here, Sam. I’m here. I just wasn’t expecting to see that is all.” “What is it, then?” “This,” Dean said, leaning back onto his heels. Sam knelt on the ground again and looked at the stone again. Charles Emerson Logan was what was etched into the surface of the stone. Sam traded a look with Dean before both brothers looked at Jimmy. Jimmy didn’t even notice the looks at him. He was still staring at the stone, and the name on it. “Jimmy?” Dean said crisply. Jimmy flinched at the sound of Dean’s voice. “What?” “You knew of this, didn’t you?” “I did, but I didn’t. If that makes any sense. I mean, there’s an old family legend of sorts about twin brothers who were antagonistic with each other about everything. The elder twin was supposedly the golden boy of the family, and the younger twin was jealous of the attention being lavished on his brother. When the elder one was accepted to a special school, the younger one had a fit of jealousy when he learned that he wasn’t. Things got physical between the two of them, with the younger twin claiming that he was going to take what should have been his.” “’Take what should have been his?’” Sam repeated questioningly. “Since the elder twin was to have been the smarter of the pair, the younger twin would have wanted to somehow make himself smarter. Or make his brother dumber.” “So what happened?” “On the morning the elder twin was to have taken the train to this school, he was found dead in his bed. Not a mark on his body, and only a trickle of blood coming from his nose. And the younger twin was nowhere to be found. At the time, it was assumed by the authorities that the younger twin had run off after what had happened to his brother, that he had lost his mind. Their parents ordered memorials stones be made for each of them. And placed somewhere on the old family grounds.” Sam and Dean looked at each other, both wearing the identical expression of determination.
“I’ve never heard of sibling rivalry going to such extremes,” Dean said as he and Sam walked to the library. “Makes our little fights seem like play time.” “So where was the other marker?” Sam asked. “If the twins were as antagonistic as the family legend paints them to be, their parents may have kept the markers as far away from each other as possible.” “So they wouldn’t keep fighting after death?” Sam gave his brother a level look. “I can tell you aren’t buying that theory either.” “I’m not, actually. But it could explain why there weren’t two markers there. I hadn’t finished my looking around, so it may be there, but in a different spot.” They had just entered the library, so Dean fell silent. Sam walked over to the front counter. “Excuse me?” he said to the pretty young woman working behind the counter. She looked at Sam speculatively. “How can I help you?” “I’m looking for some information about the Grove. Could you tell me where I could find it?” “That section is fairly substantial. Was there anything in particular you were looking for?” “There is, actually. But I can’t remember what it’s called. But between my brother and myself, we’ll know it when we see it.” She craned her head around Sam to look at Dean, who smiled at her. “If you’ll follow me,” she said as she emerged from behind the counter. “ I can show you the section on the Grove.” “Thank you,” Sam said simply as he started to follow her. Dean looked closely at her as she walked past, then raised his eyebrows at Sam, nodding at her. Sam tossed his brother a look of disbelief. The young woman led them to the back of the library. “If you either of you need any other help, just press the button at the end of the stacks.” She pointed to a small red button placed on the post about halfway up. She smiled slightly at Dean before returning to the front. “Very nice,” Dean noted as he watched her walking. “Dean,” Sam said testily. “Start looking.” “I am, Sam.” “At books.” “You’re taking the fun out of this, Sam.” Dean looked towards the front of the library again, leaning back slightly. Sam pulled his brother into the aisle. “We have a job to do here, Dean,” he said as he started pulling books from the shelf. Dean pulled down a book with something close to distaste. “What is it I’m supposed to be looking for here?” “Any references to Charles Emerson Logan.” “Right.” Several hours later, Dean closed the latest book he had leafed through and rubbed his eyes. “Find anything yet, Sam?” he asked, laying the book down on the table. “I think so, yes.” “Let’s hear it. Before my eyes start to fall out from overuse.” Sam smiled briefly. “The marker you found is the only marker in the Grove. It was placed there in memory of Charles Emerson Logan, who died on September 9th, 1888. On his eighteenth birthday.” “Which puts us at exactly where we started.” “Not exactly. This entry was cross-referenced to this book here.” Sam held up a small book bound in dark brown leather and looking fragile. “Which is?” “A small portion of the Logan family history, dated 1850 to 1897. It corroborates that Charles Logan didn’t have a twin brother.” “Which doesn’t help us.” Sam ignored the comment. “However, there were numerous times when Charles acted so far out of his normal character that people thought he did have a twin. And this ‘brother’ of his was named Edward Christopher.” “Charles had multiple personalities?” “So it would seem. And back then, they wouldn’t have known how to treat anyone like that. So they likely would have had him institutionalized so he could be ‘cured’ and sent back home.” “And the parents would have told their son that he was being sent to a new school to learn different things than he was being taught around here.” “Which is exactly what happened. Charles, in his innocence, was overjoyed at the chance to go somewhere new. But Edward was extremely jealous of that. And he let that jealousy be known to any who came within earshot. Said he wanted to have that same chance.” “And had that demand rejected because he was going to be sent there anyway as part of Charles. Or else he was ignored, which is what sometimes happens to anyone with multiple personalities.” “Exactly. I guess Edward had had enough at that point. He was somehow able to channel his anger and his hate into a usable for and somehow separated from his physical body, taking with him the memories of his eighteen years. And leaving behind the body.” “You’re telling me that this entity is actually the disembodied personality known as Edward Logan?” Dean’s skepticism returned in full force. Sam noted that skepticism. “You tell me.” He turned to the last pages of the little book. “Listen. ‘I hurriedly write this entry down, knowing it shall be the last I ever write. The being we’ve called the family ghost is not happy with me for writing this down for all to read, but these secrets must be known for the family to be safe. “’I can feel his touch on the back of my neck, so seductively sweet, coaxing me to just let go and fall asleep. He stands in front of me now, looking the same as when his body died, when it was Charles. But the look in the eyes is pure Edward. His eyes…’” Sam looks at Dean. “And that’s where the book ends.” “So if this is some old family ghost, why is it attacking all those not related to it?” “Because it still feels a strong tie to the family land, which is now part of the campus.” “So it sees the whole of the campus as it’s territory?” “And everyone on the campus as an extension of its old family.” “Great. So how do we stop this thing? We can’t very well salt and burn the bones this time.” “I’m not even sure that would work this time,” Sam said, leafing through the book again. “Since it had left the body before the body’s death, there wouldn’t be a tie to the remains.” He fell silent for a minute. “Sam,” Dean said finally. “Talk to me here. What are you thinking?” Sam looked at Dean. “We need somehow lure this thing into the Grove. Before it’s ready to drain another victim.” “And how do we manage that?” Dean asked, not at all sure he really wanted to hear the answer. One look at his brother’s face confirmed his feelings. “Sam, you can’t be serious.” “We’re going to need bait for this, Dean,” Sam said. He wasn’t particularly happy about this development either. “Who could be better?” Dean clenched his teeth briefly as he looked at his brother. Try as he might, he couldn’t see any other options.
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ricky
New Member
Posts: 36
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Post by ricky on Feb 9, 2006 8:12:40 GMT -5
Part 5 –
Sam walked across the campus towards the Grove. He appeared to any who might have seen him to be merely strolling, but his easy stride belied his hurried pace. In the deepening dusk, he fingered the small bag he had been given by Jimmy only minutes before and had been shoved into a jacket pocket. Jimmy hadn’t explained what was in the bag, saying only that Sam was going to be needing it. Sam suppressed a shudder as he thought about how the younger man seemed to know that something was going to be happening. He would have given a lot to know just how far Jimmy’s uncanny intuition went, but he knew that his brother would never take the time to find out. Just as he knew that his brother would never countenance adding a third member to the team. Which was a pity as far as Sam was concerned, since there had been times in the past where a third member could have been very useful. He put those thoughts aside as he reached the outer ring of trees for the Grove. He knew his brother was just inside that ring, walking the outer of the three circles. He sighed ever so slightly as he entered the Grove and had just reached the stone table at the center when he heard his brother’s voice come from the dark. “First circle complete, Sam,” Dean said. “It’s still not too late to change your mind about this, you know.” “I’m not changing my mind, Dean,” Sam told his brother intently as he turned on the battery-operated lantern sitting on the table. “This is the only way to do this.” “So you keep saying. I’m starting the second circle.” Dean fell silent. Sam was able to hear his brother walking just inside the middle ring of trees, and thought about the stroke of luck they had had when they had finally found the Grove’s true purpose. A purpose that had been forgotten down through the years as the school had slowly expanded, and had been further knocked awry by the accidental moving of the burial marker. Or had the moving been no accident? “Second circle now complete,” Dean said from just inside the inner ring of trees. “We do have a problem now, though.” “What’s that, Dean?” Sam asked, not looking up from the book he was leafing through. “Someone’s coming.” “Jimmy,” Sam said plainly. To him, it made no sense for anyone else to be approaching the Grove at night. Dean shot his brother an accusing look. “I thought we agreed that he was to be left out of this.” “I didn’t tell him what we were going to be doing, Dean. I wanted to keep him out of this as well, you know.” “Well, he found out somehow.” Dean glanced out to the edge of the Grove. “And he’s going to be ruining all my work.” Sam also glanced out to the edge of the Grove. “I don’t think so, Dean. He’s following your path.” “He’s doing what?” Dean’s eyes managed to pick out the younger man’s form. “He is. How did he know?” “Like I have any more clue than you do. But you better finish with your walking before he gets this far. We can seal it after he’s in.” “He has no business being here for this,” Dean said angrily, knowing it wasn’t his brother’s fault but having no one else to take it out on. Sam calmly met his brother’s angry gaze. “We don’t have any other options at the moment, do we?” “How can you take this so calmly?” “Because I’m now recognizing the fact that he needs to be here for this. Walk the circle, Dean. We can worry about it later.” Dean looked as if he wanted to argue the matter further, but he saw the sense of his brother’s words. A bit late, but he did see the sense of them. He took a couple of deep breaths to calm himself again, then focused his attention back to walking the circle. He was just finishing up as Jimmy approached where he was at. “Permission to enter the final circle?” Jimmy intoned formally. Sam didn’t waste any time wondering how the younger man knew exactly what to say; he just accepted it. “Enter,” he replied just as formally. “Walk the final circle and be welcome within it.” He breathed a small sigh of relief that he had read over the entire entry for what they were about to do. Otherwise, he would have never known the proper response. Jimmy nodded his acceptance and traced out Dean’s footsteps. As soon as he reached his starting point, he placed his hand on the tree beside him. “The circle is sealed. That which must be done will forever be kept secret. As before, so again.” “And ever on,” Sam replied, completing the sealing. He turned to Jimmy. “How…” “You need me here, Sam,” Jimmy interrupted. ‘Without me, you wouldn’t succeed.” “And just what is it that makes you so important?” Dean demanded. “I’m a Logan.” The glare Dean leveled at his brother could have peeled the bark from the trees. “I thought you didn’t tell him anything.” Sam returned the glare. “I didn’t.” He looked again at Jimmy, who was looking far too calm for Sam’s sense of well-being. “Just how do you know?” “That’s irrelevant right now, Sam,” Jimmy said placidly. “Now hold on a minute, Jimmy,” Dean protested hotly. “You are not going to invite yourself into this without any explanation. So start explaining.” “Dean,” Sam said out of the side of his mouth. “We don’t have the time for this.” “We’re going to make the time.” “No, we aren’t. We have only a finite amount of time to get the job done here. If we don’t get done before the circles fade…” “What? What’ll happen?” “We won’t be in any position to care at that point.” Dean studied his brother’s worried face for a moment. “Fine,” he said finally, annoyed with the circumstances but resigning himself to them. “Let’s get this done with then.” Sam nodded at Jimmy, acknowledging Jimmy’s right to lead this. Jimmy nodded his acceptance and moved to stand as close to the center of the Grove as he could contrive. That he stood directly over the now correctly placed marker was not lost on either brother. “Dreams shall go,” Jimmy said in a sing-song voice, one very dissimilar to his normal voice. “Dreams shall come. Sandman will you please come home.” He repeated the rhyme two more times, then stood waiting. Dean glanced around a bit nervously. “Is it here?” he asked in a whisper. Sam nodded. “It’s here,” he replied, barely moving his lips. “What’s he waiting for?” “I’m not sure.” “Edward Christopher Logan,” Jimmy said suddenly. “By the blood that we both share, I ask that you show yourself to those present.” There was a heavy silence in the Grove for a minute before Jimmy was flung back onto the grass at the edge of the inner circle. “So much for this being easy,” Dean commented, opening the duffel bag on the table. Sam cautiously made his way to where Jimmy lay upon the grass. The younger man’s face was a mask of pain. “Dean,” Sam called. Dean was still rummaging through the duffel bag. “Keep your shirt on, Sam.” Sam stood over Jimmy. “Edward, show yourself. Show your true self.” He felt a cold prickling at the back of his neck and dodged to his right. “Dean, will you hurry it up over there?” he scrambled over to the table, where his brother was still frantically searching. Dean looked up. “I thought you put the salt in here, Sam.” “I thought you did.” The brothers stared at each other for a few seconds. “Great,” Dean said flatly. “Now what?” “Plan B,” Sam said as he pulled a knife from the bag. Dean looked at the curved blade of the knife, then at the determined look on his brother’s face. “Plan B?” “We improvise.” Sam moved cautiously back to where Jimmy was laying on the ground, a hazy figure now standing over the younger man. Hoping that cold iron would work against the Sandman now that it could be seen, Sam lashed out with his hand and ran the knife along the Sandman’s back. He felt the knife sliding through whatever substance made up the Sandman. The Sandman felt it as well. Though in no way repelled by the metal, it could obviously feel it throughout its being. It turned with lightning quickness to face its tormentor. Sam dodged out of range, being careful not to let it catch his gaze. His arm whipped out again, nicking the Sandman’s arm. This time, however, he wasn’t able to dodge out of the way fast enough, and the Sandman grabbed hold of Sam’s other wrist. Sam fell to his knees, fighting to keep awake. He blindly slashed upwards with his knife and felt it flow through the Sandman’s substance again. His wrist was released, but not before he had caught a soundless yell of pain and fury within his head. By this time, Dean had formulated his own plan, one which made certain he would remain out of range of the Sandman’s influence. He stood near the table, a handgun in each hand. He had regular bullets in the one, and silver bullets in the other. Not knowing which would be more effective, he was taking no chances. He just needed a clear shot at the thing, something complicated by his brother’s constant movement. Sam saw Dean out of the corner of his eye. Ducking under the spectral arm reaching for him, he said, “Dean. Not in here.”
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ricky
New Member
Posts: 36
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Post by ricky on Feb 9, 2006 8:13:17 GMT -5
Part 5 (cont'd) -
“Sam, just stop dancing around. I can’t get a clear shot with all your moving.” Sam slashed at the spectral hand just before it touched his shoulder. “You’ll breach the circle if you fire those at it. It’ll be free to escape then.” He dodged the Sandman’s hand again, rolling across the ground and kneeling beside Jimmy, who was still laying flat on the ground. “And once it’s free of here, its anger will be allowed to have free rein.” He looked pleadingly at his brother briefly before ducking his head again. “Who knows how many more it’ll kill at that point.” Dean looked as if he had just swallowed a live snake, but he put the guns on the table. “So what do you suggest? Your knife isn’t having much effect on it.” “It doesn’t like the feel of the iron, Dean. The iron is able to slow it down somewhat.” He dodged out of the way one more time, springing to his feet and slashing the Sandman in the side before it could station itself above Jimmy again. “And Dean? Whatever you do, don’t let it look you in the eyes.” Dean was going to ask why that was so important, but he remembered the final words of the family history that his brother had read. “Sam,” he called out. “See if you can get its eyes.” “Right.” Sam jumped to his feet. Only to find that the Sandman had vanished. Dean looked around. “Where did it go?” “It’s still here, since it can’t leave until the circles fade. I don’t think it had fed long enough to stay visible for very long.” “Jimmy’s forcing it to take its form didn’t work then.” “Obviously not.” Sam walked over to the spot where Jimmy had been. “Edward Christopher Logan,” he said intently. “By the blood of the Logans which you share, you are commanded to show your true self within this circle.” He caught his brother’s nervous glance before he felt himself being pulled off balance and flung aside like a rag doll. He landed awkwardly, losing the knife but managing to stay awake in spite of the Sandman’s touch. He tried to scramble to his feet but only made it to his knees when he felt a chill touch on his head. And a voice seductively trying to coax him to sleep. Dean saw his brother struggling to rise and hurried over, his favorite knife in hand. Able to discern a very faint outline touching his brother head, he slashed at it with the knife. He had a fleeting feeling of grim pleasure before he felt a chill touch on his chest. Before he knew what to expect, he was shoved backwards, just missing colliding with the table. Sam took advantage of the reprieve, however fleeting it was, and reclaimed his knife. Without even thinking about it, he slashed the knife through the air at a spot behind him, and felt the knife move through where the Sandman was. “Dean,” Sam called as he scrambled to his feet again, still a little woozy. Dean shook his head to clear it of the lingering grogginess resulting from the touch of the Sandman. “What?” Sam ducked under the barely visible arm reaching for him. “Get him to take visible form.” “And how do I manage that?” Dean asked as he slowly got to his feet. “I didn’t read over that book like you did.” “It doesn’t matter how you do it, Dean,” San said dodging backwards. “Just do it.” Dean looked at his brother dodging, spinning, and backpedaling and fought the urge to join him. Glancing down, he saw he was standing directly over the marker. Looking back at his brother, who was now kneeling on the ground, he said,” Enough of this, Edward. Just show yourself, you crazy bastard.” And started at what had just been virtually empty space seconds before. The Sandman, Edward, was no longer a hazy and indistinct shape. While it wavered and flickered in places, it was fully visible to the brothers. And the face was the most visible of all. Sam averted his eyes as he got to his feet, but not before he caught a faint glimpse of the madness that lay behind that gaze. Taking advantage of the momentary confusion in the Sandman, Sam quickly joined his brother by the table. “Now what?” Dean asked as the Sandman turned itself to follow Sam. “You need to get it to the marker,” Jimmy called out weakly. “It’s at its weakest at that spot.” At the sound of Jimmy’s voice, the Sandman turned from the brothers and started towards Jimmy, its eyes alight with madness and an unholy glee. Without even thinking about it, Sam dashed over to protect Jimmy. He slashed the Sandman across the chest with his knife, the ducked away from the Sandman’s arms. He lashed out again, striking its face this time. He kept up the attack until the Sandman was actually retreating. “Dean,” Sam said when he could. “Once I get it to the marker, keep it busy. I don’t care what you have to do, just keep it there. Don’t let it wander away.” He ducked under one of the Sandman’s hand, but he wasn’t able to dodge the other. His face screwed up in pain as he fought the compulsion to look into the Sandman’s eyes. Dean jumped to his brother’s defense, slashing his knife across the back of the Sandman. He remembered almost too late to avoid its eyes as it turned to face him. He wanted to go for its eyes with his knife, but he knew he’d never be able to without some help. Or some serious luck. Sam shook his head to clear it of its fogginess. He watched his brother fighting the Sandman for minute before it finally clicked that it was standing directly over the marker. And that chased the last of his sleepiness from his mind. Walking over to the table, he placed his knife in the duffel bag and pulled out the small bag that Jimmy had given him from his jacket pocket. Looking far calmer than he actually felt, he joined his brother in facing the sandman. He dumped the contents of the bag into his hand, and was momentarily surprised to feel sand there. His surprise gave way to understanding, and he flung the sand full into the Sandman’s face just as it was turning its head to gaze at him. The Sandman froze, its mouth opened in a soundless scream. It quivered, minutely at first but then more violently. Then, with no warning, it started to disintegrate from the ground up. Soon, the only thing left was the sand Sam had flung into its eyes. The sand fell to the ground. Dean looked at his brother, who was breathing hard. “What did you throw?” He was sporting a few marks that would be bruises in a few hours. Sam was already starting to show his bruises. “Sand,” he said tiredly. Dean looked at his brother in disbelief. “Sand? How did you know that would even work? And where did you even get it from?” Sam sat down on one of the stone benches. “I didn’t know for certain that it would work, but it seemed to be likely. Do you remember my asking you a while back if you or Dad had heard anything about like this?” “What’s that have to do with anything?” “Remember that peculiar childhood legend I mentioned about the being able to put kids to sleep with sand?” “Is that what the sand was for?” “That’s exactly what it was for.” “So when the Sandman is put to sleep with his own sand, his existence is negated. You never did tell me where you got that sand.” “The sand was what was left of the Sandman’s last two victims,” Sam said quietly. “Jimmy gave you that sand?” Dean asked. Though why that should surprise him he didn’t know. He glanced over at the younger man, who was sitting up. “How much do you think he remembers?” Sam glanced over at Jimmy. “With luck, not much. Only one way to find out though.” He walked over and knelt beside Jimmy. “How you feeling, Jimmy?” “Is it finished?” Jimmy asked, looking far too alert for what had just happened. Sam noted that fact, as well as the fact that Jimmy’s voice was slightly different. “It’s finished.” Jimmy nodded. “Then my work here is done.” Dean knelt on Jimmy’s other side. “Work? What work? Just who are you anyway?” Jimmy smiled almost whimsically. “I’m James Logan, Jimmy’s distant grandfather. I’m the one who wrote that family history you found to be so useful.” “Does Jimmy know about all this?” Sam asked, accepting this facet of the job without a qualm. “Jimmy’s always known about me,” James replied. “He’s a medium, even though he doesn’t know that yet. And I’ve imposed upon him long enough. My thanks to you both for your help.” Jimmy’s body shuddered slightly and then went still. Sam looked at Dean, who shrugged. Around them, the circles were fading on their own, their faint light sinking back into the ground.
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ricky
New Member
Posts: 36
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Sandman
Feb 25, 2006 7:48:37 GMT -5
Post by ricky on Feb 25, 2006 7:48:37 GMT -5
Part 6 –
Dean and Sam were walking across the sunlit campus the following morning, both moving slowly. And both showing signs of having had a busy weekend. “They probably think we were in that brawl the papers talked about,” Sam said after the latest group of students stared at them, pointing and whispering. “That still wouldn’t help with your being ugly,” Dean commented. Sam smiled at the comment, glad to see that some things would never change. “Why don’t you just get over yourself?” “Because I know how good I am,” Dean retorted, smiling as well. “Just because you can’t recognize it doesn’t mean that I can’t.” “You are so full of it, Dean.” “You’re just jealous.” Sam gave up at that point, shaking his head. He knew he wouldn’t win this round. “You really think the professor will be able to tell us anything about where Dad is?” he asked instead. Dean was silent for a little while. “To be honest,” he finally said, “no. But I don’t think that’s the reason he wants to see us.” Sam was silent as a group of students flowed out of the doors to the faculty office building, one of whom eyeballed Sam with obvious interest. “See?” Dean said mock-seriously as the entered. “Things aren’t all bad for you.” “Dean, spare me. I’m not even remotely interested.” “You interested in Jimmy, then?” “Trust me,” Sam said. “Guys are not my thing. Besides, weren’t you the one who was getting all happy about that guy in that coffee shop a few days ago?” “Don’t remind me,” Dean growled. Sam’s smile widened at his brother’s facial expression. “So what were you meaning about the professor?” “Nothing in particular. Why?” “I just thought… Never mind. It wasn’t important.” Dean gave his brother a disbelieving look but let it go. They walked in silence for another minute before reaching the professor’s office. Dean knocked on the open door once, then poked his head in. “Knock, knock,” he said brightly before he noticed that someone was sitting in the chair across from the professor. “Sorry, Professor. We’ll come back a little later on.” The professor waved them in. “No, no. It’s quite all right. I was just going over some things with Jimmy, but we can pick this up again.” Dean conjured up a smile as Jimmy turned in his chair. “Hey, guys,” Jimmy said, smiling slightly at Sam. “Hi, Jimmy,” Sam said while Dean hid a grin. “I really wish you would take a little more time with this, Jimmy,” the professor said resignedly. “I know you do, sir,” Jimmy said firmly. “But I’ve made up my mind about this.” The professor sighed. “As you will, then.” “Thank you.” Jimmy stood up and walked to the door. He looked at Dean. “Thank you for all your help, Dean,” he said almost shyly. Dean tried to shrug it off. “Not a problem.” Jimmy smiled slightly, as if he knew that Dean was both surprised and grateful about the comment, before turning to Sam. “Sam, could I talk with you for a few minutes? Alone?” Sam looked surprised at the question for a few seconds before regaining enough sense to plaster a small smile on his face. “Sure, Jimmy,” he said finally, ignoring the almost smug look on his brother’s face. “Looks as if you get just me again, Walter,” Dean said after the other two had left. He laid down a bound folder on the desk before sitting down. “Thank you for letting us borrow these.” “So you were able to solve the mystery,” the professor commented. “You father thought the two of you would be able to. If you don’t mind my asking, what was it?” “Jimmy’s description of it was fairly close to the mark,” Dean said noncommittally. “So he didn’t really create anything new.” “Not really. But he was able to document it, so for all intents and purposes, he did make this one.” “Interesting,” the professor said after a minute. “Your father must be terribly proud of you for him to have such confidence in you to take on such responsibilities by yourself.” Dean fixed Walter with a serious look. “Walter, did Dad say anything to you about where he was at?” “Sadly, he did not. But he did ask me to tell you when I had a chance to that he was going to leave you some idea of his whereabouts at the coordinates he first gave you when you were in California.” The look on the professor’s face said that he didn’t exactly understand what he was relaying. Which was all to the good as far as Dean was concerned. The less who knew what was going on, the better. “I see,” was all he said to the professor’s words.
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ricky
New Member
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Sandman
Feb 25, 2006 7:49:13 GMT -5
Post by ricky on Feb 25, 2006 7:49:13 GMT -5
part 6 (cont'd) -
“You all right, Jimmy?” Sam asked as the two of them emerged back into the sunlight. “Yes and no,” Jimmy admitted quietly. “Physically, I’m doing fine. Just a small lump on the back of my head where I hit it on the ground. Mentally and emotionally? Too much has happened here in too short of a time frame for me to able to adjust. I’m just not as happy here any more, which is why I’m leaving school after the term ends.” “Jimmy, no. You can’t leave school.” Jimmy signed impatiently. “Everybody’s been telling me that, Sam. But no one’s been giving me any good reasons to actually stay.” “Jimmy, listen to me. If you leave before you’ve finished, it’ll be something you’ll regret for the rest of your life.” “And how would you know?” Jimmy asked bitterly, not even bothering to hide it. “Because I left college early. To help Dean. The details of why aren’t important right now, though. What is important is that, even though Dean and I are a team for what we do, I wish every day I hadn’t left school to join him.” “You were in college?” Jimmy asked in surprise, forgetting his bitterness for the moment. “Surely not for what it is you do now.” Sam sighed to himself. He didn’t want to get into this right now, but he couldn’t very well get out of it since he was the one to start the topic. “I had gone to college to get away from this, actually.” “You had walked away from something you’re good at?” “Hunting was all I had ever known, Jimmy. From before I could walk, it was all the life I ever knew. I wanted something normal, some sort of life I could call my own. Something I could control on my own terms.” “Why did you…?” Jimmy began to ask after a few minutes of walking in silence. “Never mind. You said it wasn’t important.” Sam looked over at the younger man. “If you truly want to know why, I can give you the highlights of what’s led me to where I am now. But only if you’re willing to tell me why you feel you have leave school.” Jimmy was silent, thinking his options through. “All right. I agree to your proposal. You want to talk in the Grove?” “I’ve had enough of the Grove to last me the rest of the century, Jimmy,” Sam said wryly. We can go and talk out by Dean’s car instead. Not that you’re at all against spending a little more time with me,” he added with a teasing grin. “I’d enjoy your company more if you’d stop wearing all those layers of clothes,” Jimmy retorted with his own smile, only half-joking about it. “I may as well get this out into the open right now.” He gave Sam a serious look. “I know you feel nothing towards me, except maybe simple friendship. And I can accept that even if the truth of it does hurt. But couldn’t you just pretend that you thought of me as more than just someone you helped out of a tough spot? Just for a little bit?” Sam didn’t have a clue how to answer that one, so he didn’t even try to. “I guess that’s answer enough,” Jimmy said finally. He laughed shortly. “You probably think I’m some sort of desperate kid with my coming on to you like that.” “You definitely caught me by surprise with it,” Sam admitted. “Not everyone could say something like that to someone he barely knows.” “It’s usually easier for me to say that to someone I barely know than someone I do know.” Jimmy looked speculatively at Sam. “Never mind. It would take far too long to explain to you.” They walked across the road to the visitor’s lot and decided to walk in the grass between the lot and the stream. “So what did you have in mind to do once you do leave school?” Sam asked. During the walk, he had decided not to try and talk Jimmy out of his decision. “I hadn’t really thought that far ahead yet,” Jimmy admitted, blushing slightly. “I’ve always wanted to head out to California, though. Maybe I’ll just move out there and see what happens. What’s next for you?” Sam shrugged. “More of the same. The job never changes, only the location of it.” “Sounds pretty lonely.” “Traveling with Dean is never boring.” “Neither of you has much chance to be by yourselves, do you?” “To tell you the truth, I don’t think either one of us would know exactly what to do if we knew the other wasn’t nearby. We’ve both gotten so used to covering each other’s backs that it’s second nature any more.” Jimmy stopped suddenly and turned to face Sam. His face screamed out that he had made some sort of decision. Sam looked questioningly at Jimmy but said nothing, content to let the younger man resume when he was ready to. “So you’d never have the time any more for something like this?” Jimmy asked, lightly kissing Sam on the lips. Sam continued to look at Jimmy, not at all sure which emotion was more prevalent at the moment. “Why did you do that?” he finally asked, sounding only curious. “I’m sorry,” Jimmy said, though he looked anything but sorry. “But the only way I was going to be able to do that was to either trick you or surprise you. As for why, let’s just leave it at I had to know for certain.” “Know what for certain?” Jimmy’s smile turned impish. “Us gay boys like to keep secrets as much as the girls do, Sam. Let me keep this one.” “Sam!” Dean called over before Sam could reply. “We need to get moving.” “You take care of yourself, Sam,” Jimmy said, turning his head away suddenly. There was no way he was going to let Sam see him getting teary-eyed. “You take care too, Jimmy,” Sam replied. He knew what he should do, what Jimmy was waiting for. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Not at this point. He settled for a smile at the younger man and walked to the car. He was conscious of Jimmy staring at him the entire time. “That looked awkward,” Dean commented once Sam was within earshot, not making a joke out if it for whatever reason. “You have no idea,” Sam said dryly. “It was worse than it looked.” He glanced back at the lone figure standing by the stream before returning his attention to Dean. “Were you able to find anything out?” “A bare hint is all,” Dean admitted. “But at least we have that. We have to go back to Colorado. To those coordinates Dad left for us in his journal.” “You think Dad maybe found something else out there?” “It’s certainly possible.” “You don’t sound too sure about that.” “Let’s just say I’m keeping my options open this time around,” Dean said as he climbed into the car. “Dad wouldn’t send us there for no reason.” Sam got into the car as well. “So why didn’t he call you with this?” “My guess would be that he didn’t want any direct links between him and us.” “No direct links? Dean, since when would Dad be afraid to talk to us?” Dean had no answer for that. But the looked he gave Sam as he pulled from the lot and onto the road was full of speculation.
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Sandman
Oct 25, 2006 13:44:16 GMT -5
Post by girl2693 on Oct 25, 2006 13:44:16 GMT -5
:oALL R GREAT ;D
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jaredpfan26
New Member
"Give you a couple of severed heads and a pile of dead cows and you're Mr. Sunshine."
Posts: 30
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Sandman
Jul 5, 2007 11:11:21 GMT -5
Post by jaredpfan26 on Jul 5, 2007 11:11:21 GMT -5
This story was so awesome!!! You should right more. I could totally picture all of this happening in an episode!!!
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