Dean woke up, feeling slightly sick in his stomach. Something bad was going to happen. Shaking off the feeling, he sat up and stretched, then brushed a hand down the back of his neck, rubbing it, but carefully avoiding the fang marks. Not that he would let his brother or Cas know, but it hurt like a son of a bitch, and he still felt light-headed and dizzy. His head snapped up as the deafening bunker alarms activated, screaming at Dean. He was out of bed in seconds, his hand slipping under his pillow for the gun he always slept with. Better to be safe than sorry. Clicking off the safety, he dashed across the room and flung open his door. It crashed into the wall with a resounding bang. He bolted down the hallway, sliding round the corners in his bare feet. Of all the nights to have slept topless. He got to Cas' door and pushed it open, brandishing his gun. It was empty. Oh crap. He swivelled and ran down the corridor to Sam's room. Thankfully, he bumped into his brother before he got there. Thank God Sam was okay.
"Cas' gone!" Dean shouted breathlessly over the screeching of the alarm, clasping a hand on Sam's shoulder. Sam met his brother's eyes, confused and worried for their friend, but for Dean too. He didn't look quite right; paler than usual. Probably after effects of their last hunt. Cas was their main concern right now, though.
"Split up, we'll cover more ground." Sam suggested.
Dean nodded, and Sam branched off down one end of the corridor, Dean the other. Dean made his way tactfully through each room, pushing open doors, creeping through rooms, finding nothing. He got to the end of the corridor, and tried turning the handle. Locked. He didn't have his lock pick, and it would take too long to get it from his room and then use it, so he drew back, and kicked the door in. The crash echoed around the bunker as the door was wrenched off of its hinges, despite the loud alarm. Dean ran in, all former cautiousness abandoned. The room was dark, and he could only make out shadows. Holding his gun in front of him offensively, Dean switched the lights on, but the room was empty, aside from some old furniture and books. It had simply been a locked store room, nothing special. Cursing at his stupidity, he flicked the lights off, and tried to place the door back, but failing. Eventually, he settled for resting the door against the outside wall. He, Sam and Cas would fix it later. He walked down the stairs, and started along the bottom corridor but stopped as he was suddenly overcome by a wave of dizziness. Grabbing the wall for support, he slid to the floor and waited for it to pass, rubbing a hand over his eyes.
Sam appeared beside him from out of nowhere, and slid to a stop beside his brother. Grabbing Dean's arm, he mouthed, "Are you okay?"
Dean nodded uncertainly, but stood anyway and patted his brother's arm. "I'm okay now." He shouted in reply, and Sam released the other Winchester's arm. Dean then asked his brother if he had found anything.
"Nothing!" Sam replied. He would ask Dean about what just happened later. He was getting really scared for his older sibling. Dean had lost a lot of blood.
Now getting worried, Dean motioned to Sam, and they scoped the library. Where the hell was Cas? The Winchesters walked out of the batcave's library, and down the corridor that lead to the kitchen. Dean turned the corner first, Sam hanging behind so he could watch over him. Dean stopped abruptly, indicating with his hand that Sam should do the same. Smoke was leaking out from the sides of the door, and there was black liquid oozing malevolently from under the door. An audibly violent commotion was coming from the room, despite the deafening alarms. Dean looked back to his younger brother, and they advanced. The two of them stopped outside the room, standing in the black stuff, guns raised. Dean felt the click of the gun as he cocked it, heard Sam do the same. Sam held his fingers up in a countdown.
3... 2... 1...
Just as Sam moved to push open the door, it was kicked open, and Sam and Dean stumbled back, guns held up defensively. The smoke billowed from the open doorway, looking a lot like a demon smoking out. At first, nothing happened. There was just darkness, as the smoke unfurled into the corridor, encompassing the boys. Dean's eyebrows knitted together in confusion, and he stepped forwards cautiously, trying to hold in an inevitable cough. A figure began to emerge from the kitchen. Dean sucked in a withheld breath at the sight of the stranger, but instantly regretted it as he started coughing, holding up a hand to his mouth, the other still tightly grasping the gun.
