Shut The Gates At Sunset 20/21

[soncnica]

Title: Shut The Gates At Sunset 20/21
Author: soncnica
Rating: PG-13
Genre/pairing: gen, h/c
Characters: Dean, Sam
Word count: cca. 1.986 this chapter, the whole story has around 48.040 words.
Summary: Shut the gates at sunset, after that you can't get out. A case finds Sam.
Spoilers: Umm S1?
Warnings: Maybe I can warn for catatonia and abuse but not Sam or Dean... and dunno, blood lose. And Sam has a lot of erm embarassing moments in this fic. Poor kiddo, I made him suffer from something kinda... odd. Let's call it... supernatural injury.
Disclaimer: I seriously only own the grammar/spelling mistakes. Everything else is not mine!
A/N: The title and well the summary come from a song called Enjoy The Ride by Morcheeba. Erm, the song has nothing to do with the story, I just thought it would be an appropriate uh name for it.

 

Sam was wide awake; it truly felt to him like he had been sleeping for days on end. Nothing burned, nothing throbbed, nothing hurt, nothing was wrong. He felt well rested. Everything was…normal.

's this how normal feels like?

He focused on driving down the road, the 'borrowed' car had a garbage problem that was even worse then the Impala's. Burger wrappings, empty Coke cans, juice cans, cigarette burns on the upholstery, windows pooped on by birds, whoever owned this car was just disgusting. But it was the nearest car to steal and it looked like it was in a driving state. Sort of…it was the only one that was not a truck or a family car with at least two baby seats in the back.

The road was as dark as it was before when Dean had driven him to the motel; it seemed like a lifetime ago. He wondered what the time was, but just couldn't force himself to look at his watch. Time was relative anyway. He knew the way, it shouldn't take him long to get to Ryan. He was amazed at how uneventful the ride was, there were no trees jumping on the road, no animals doing suicide, no stops for peeing…my bladder feels empty, it's actually a weird feeling.

There was no pesky big brother with his blaring music that blew out his ears. It was just a peaceful night drive on a road that held no surprises. He passed the now closed gas pump, when the concern for Ryan kicked in. It started with a whisper that soon turned into a scream.

Gotta save Ryan, have to see he's alright.

The thought was pulling at his brain, squeezing his chest making it hard to breathe, to see. But the thing that frightened him was that he was so used to these sensations that they became him. The pain was dull, no longer hurting.

His phone rang and he fished it from the passenger seat, where he had thrown it before. It was hiding beneath a newspaper and a cigarette box. Empty cigarette box. God, the car smelled.

"Sam where are you?"

"I just passed the gas pump."

"I'm right behind you. Fifteen minutes at the most and I'll be there."

"O.K." he didn't know what more to say.

"Sammy, be careful."

"It's Sam and I'm already there. See you." I'll be fine…as long as you get there.

O.K. so he lied. He wasn't there but five more minutes with this speed and he will be. He just wanted to end the call, before Dean would go all 'Sam stop your car and wait for me or I'll kick your ass'.

After a deep sigh he threw the phone on the empty cigarette box and continued to drive. Looking through the window on the lonely, dark road he realized that he was weary of everything. Weary of these things happening to him, tired of being hurt and a puppet to everyone that…but he had to keep doing this. No matter the price he and Dean paid…it's worth it.

Saving lives, keeping people safe and in the dark. No need to get them involved in the dark shadows of the world. It's better that they are oblivious.

It was his job to help Ryan, his job to save him…and he'd do it.

The thinking of keeping people in the dark and saving Ryan got him closer to the building and he turned off the smelly car.

In the light of the moon and the stars the building looked like a castle, torched by the enemy army. Sam didn't waste any time in admiring the architectural components of it all and he staggered down the now familiar path, with the pavement crunching beneath his feet. In the silence of the night the sound was loud in his ears, making him look behind him on numerous occasions when he thought he was being followed. The rustling of the tips of the trees followed his every step, making his skin crawl with goosebumps.

The cold air was drying his sweat soaked shirt and he hid himself in his hoodie, shivering slightly at the sensation. It smelled of summer, despite the rain from the night before. It was a fresh mixture of blossoming flowers and trees. The smell of freshly cut grass also invaded his nose. He was in the countryside after all.

The trees were still a silent guardian of the benches and hidden windows. No lights were turned on anywhere in the building, and Sam though that maybe the building died along with Leroy. But then one light turned on and he dismissed that thought. One figure walked by the window, only a silhouette was visible and Sam hid behind a tree. It was a massive block of wood, and with his thin form he was easily hidden. The light turned off and he believed it was safe enough to continue his way to the entrance.

The two lions were still there, but they seemed different somehow. Sweeter, nicer, smiling in a way.

The doors were unlocked, which seemed a little odd, but Sam had no time to dwell on it. He had to get to Ryan. The light hit his eyes and it stung for a second. His feet once again hit the familiar marble floor, his soft sneakers making little sound as he stepped on that first step. Only a million to go, he thought.

"Mr. Hicks? What are you doing here?"

Crap, well now I know why the door was open.

He turned around slowly; not wanting to answer the petite women, he knew was standing behind him, to soon. He would just take his time and turn around slowly. But there isn't a lot of seconds you can gain in just turning around slowly.

With one foot still on the first step, he said: "I was just…"

He was interrupted by a rough opening of the heavy door that caused the cold wind from outside to swirl in. It blew away the smell of undercooked food and cleaners. The pungent smell of disinfection still burned Sam's nose though.

In the bright light that ruled the hall, Sam saw a figure enter the vast room. He knew who it was; he could feel him coming a mile away. Well, actually those fifteen minutes past, like a minute ago and he knew it was Dean.

"Dean…"

The look Dean gave him told him all he needed to know. It was the tall tale sign of 'run Sam, I've got this'. And Sam ran. He ran up the stairs, the same one that mocked him earlier that day.

"Ryan's mother, she… we just heard…" and the last of Dean's words faded with those final few steps.

The hall was huge and long, just the way he remembered it. Nothing changed in the last few hours he'd been gone. The light was dim here, in such contrast with the light downstairs, where the brightness almost scorched his eyes. The windows were still standing in a row, smiling like black teeth in an old man's mouth. The stars were visible through them though, and the young moon was still being a mother hen to them, not letting them escape.

He checked his watch, the desire to know when the darkness would end too powerful to ignore anymore. From what he could determine, the short pointer was on 4 and the long one was grazing 52.

Satisfied with the clock showing early morning and knowing that the sun would probably rise soon, he continued his way towards Ryan's room. He still remembered that impossibly high room number. He tip toed down the hall, the moon following his every move, illuminating his path. The concern he felt for Ryan was pinching at his stomach, a feeling he always got when something's about to happen.

The pain hit him full force and he staggered towards the wall. He slammed his tall frame against the white wall and waited for the unavoidable things that were about to happen.

The pain started in his temples and made an agonizingly slow climb to his brain. He dug his hands in his eyes and hit his back on the wall a few times, trying to deflect the pain that was invading his mind to the pain in his back. But it was a lost cause. The image sliced through his mind, turning the black window in front of him into a bleary slide show of colors and shapes.

-:-

Someone was sitting on a clean white bed, the sheets fluttering in the warm summer breeze coming from a large open window.

"Sam…help me. Please."

Sam stood in front of the figure and saw the brown eyes, big and scared with tears running down the freckled cheeks.

-:-

The child's voice still echoed in his ears when he woke up sitting on the cold marble floor. His hand was braced on the wall, his fingers chipping away the already loosened paint. He breathed in that all too familiar smell that seemed to follow him everywhere he went in this place. Even his vision smelled of it. The smell of death.

His head hurt, the pain he thought he wouldn't feel so soon and hoped he wouldn't feel ever again. But hoping is futile with these kind of situations; he knew it would be best if he would learn that already. It would make thinks easier if he wouldn't base everything on hope. But then…hope is all he's got. All he'll ever have.

When his world tilted itself right again, he bolted up from the floor with a frantic whisper of: "Ryan!" and the world once again rotated around its axis. He had to hold on to the wall to get his bearings back.

He slid his hand on the wall, staggering slowly towards Ryan's room, chipping away paint in the process, leaving a stream of ruined wall. His fingers started to hurt, but the pain was dulled by the headache he felt coming. He kept his hand on the cold oily wall, never wavering from the solid touch he had…a touch to ground himself.

The further he got the more the hallway got brighter. The early signs of a sunrise were glowing in the far horizon and the red color of the awakening sun shone through the windows, making the space for Sam to walk on look bloody and warm. The feelings of dread and safety both at the same time spread throughout his body, warming him up and making him walk faster. He tried his best to stifle down his vision, but all was in vain as the echoes of Ryan's voice still lingered in his mind, making him stumble and almost fall when he hit a picture hanging on the wall. The picture hung loosely after that, he didn't try to fix it, couldn't even bring himself to care.

The visions took a lot out of him, making him dizzy and weak, confused and nauseated. The sun crawled up some more and tiny specks of dust were visible in the dull red light, they hit Sam's body and rested upon his clothes, face and hair. He breathed them in and saw how they danced around him…they were the only normal things right now that got his mind of the blinding pain in his head.

The bleary sight he was gifted after the vision made him see distorted figures and misshapen forms. Nothing made sense to him anymore; the tears burning in his eyes were a slight distraction from the jumbled world he resided in right now.

"1271," he stumbled further, "1273, oh, shit." he blinked and sucked the tears threatening to fall, resting his chin on his chest. The restless hair he wore fell into his eyes, drying up the rest of the tears.

"1275," he stopped walking.

"Ryan."

TBC…