The Winchester Code

Chapter 6 - The Sam Diaries

The Sam Diaries

Chapter 6

“Yeah, I got her.” Bobby told me. I smiled with relied.
“Is she ok?” I ask.
“Well she’s still breathin’.” Bobby’s gruff voice answered from the other end of the line.
“What do you mean?”
“She was attacked, Sam.” Bobby said. “She told me that her doctors were trying to kill her. She had cuts all up her arms and she was not in a good state. You were right to call me.”
I looked over at Dean passed out on his bed.
“We’ll head back there in the morning.”
“Alright.” Bobby said. “We’ll be here I guess.”
“Bobby?” I stopped before he hung up. “Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.” I hear Bobby drop his line.
I stared into the darkness for a couple of seconds before, I too, put the phone away.
I li back on the bed and stared up at the motel ceiling. This life meant a lot of travelling and, besides the bunker, we didn’t really have a permanent place to call home. Of course, we had Bobby’s but he has people floating through and he’s busy, and he’s more of a father to my brother and I than a roommate.
We work a lot, Dean and I. We travel from state to state, sometimes even to different countries, for our work.
We’re Hunters. Not the sort of hunters that go out and hunt furs or food, we hunt ‘things’. Demons, ghosts, werewolves, vampires and a whole life of other crazy things that plague the minds of young children. I can almost guarantee that that thing that lived under you bed was real. That monster in your closet? I’ve probably killed ‘it’ and one hundred more just like it.
I rolled onto my side and the mattress squeaked under me. I drew my legs closer to my chest, but decided to spread out instead. I rolled back onto my back and kicked my legs out, ‘starfishing it’ on the double bed. Being 6”4’, it’s hard to get comfortable in a bed when your feet hang over the end.
I’ve been into the Hunting life from ever since I can remember. My mum died when I was six months old. Dad was determined to avenge her death and set out to find and kill the demon that had killed her. We did find the demon, Azazel, and killed it, then dad died saving Dean’s life. Just to make our crazy lives even worse, the demon that killed my mother bled his demon-y juices into my mouth and gave me the power to sometimes see people’s deaths before they happen. But only the death of other psychics – like me.
That’s why we were at the Geller’s. I believe that the dead demon had a successor and was using him to raise up a new generation of psychics. I think that Grace Geller was meant to be one of them.
I turned and looked at my big brother. He was sprawled out on his stomach, one hand under his pillow, no doubt clutching the gun that he kept under his head when he slept.
Last year, my brother and I had discovered the existence of angels and prophets. Ever since Dean found out he was a perfect vessel for the Archangel Michael, and I, the devil himself, Lucifer, we had been very careful when it came to trusting angels.
A while ago, I had been cast into a place worse than Hell. It was known as ‘The Cage’. A place where Lucifer (me) and Michael (our step-brother, Adam) had been locked away to keep us from destroying the world by bringing on the apocalypse.
To cut a long story short, I escaped without my soul, Adam was trapped, I teamed up with my deluded grandfather, got my soul back, went crazy, nearly died a couple of times, transferred the crazy, got my grandfather killed and saved the world again.
I could hear Dean shift in his bed, mumbling something.
“Cas where are you?”
Cas. The one angel we can trust.
Admittedly, he did go crazy and inadvertently – through a series of unfortunate events – cast Dean into purgatory, but he is almost always there to help us when we need him.
Cas has saved our asses more times than I like to admit, and he’s a good friend. There’s a crisis with heaven at the moment though, so we don’t see him as often as we used to.
I sighed to myself and glanced down at my phone. 3:14 Am.
I closed my eyes. I should’ve been asleep. I was so tired and my body was sore from the beating I had taken from ganking that witch we were hunting.
I tried to clear my mind, but all I could think about was the witch. She had killed three people and so we had killed her, but it wasn’t easy. We underestimated the power she possessed, she was deep into witchcraft and had thrown me and my brother against the brick walls of her house, sending bees to come and attack us. Our saving grace was when the doorbell rang and a persistent mailman told her she needed to sign for a package. The further away she was from us, the weaker her powers were. Her at the other end of the house allowed Dean to escape. He literally stabbed her in the back with his special demon killing knife. That knife is the only knife (that we know of) that can kill demons. And when I say ‘kill demons’, I mean ‘send the black-eyed bitches to Purgatory’, if that’s where they go. Of course, Dean didn’t need to use the demon blade, he could’ve shot her, or used a different knife, or snapped her neck, but he just used what was available.
“Sleeping Sammy?”
I opened my eyes and looked over my shoulder.
Oh no. Please not again.
“What? Aren’t you happy to see me?”
“How are you here?” I asked the angel.
“I never left.” He answered. “You know that.”
“Are you going to let me sleep?”
Lucifer had almost killed me from sleep deprecation. Ever since I got my soul back, my dreams have been plagued with memories of the café and I’ve been able to see Lucifer. He almost convinced me to kill my brother, but Dean had helped me work through it. Later on, I transferred the devil onto Cas and I was ok, but Cas had gotten better and I had gotten worse, but I haven’t told Dean that.
Dean has always been more than just a brother to me. He takes care of me. ‘Watch out for Sammy’ has become his life’s mission. He was four years old when he carried me out of our burning house, and since that day, he has never stopped looking out for me.
“How do you know you’re not already asleep?” Lucifer asked me. I closed my eyes again. “Come on, Sam. I’m not that bad.”

*************************************************************************************************

Dean drove down the open highway blasting ACDC as loud as he could manage. He was somehow singing over top of the music. “I’m like evil I got under your skin! Just like a bomb that’s ready to blow!”
I leaned my head against the new window. It shattered for an unexplained reason a while ago. Dean suspected my ESP shit did something, but I didn’t. Not that I’m aware of anyway, but it would explain the high-pitched ringing I heard and the reason I was sick.
“Come on, Sammy!” Dean shouted at me, “You love this song!”
I rolled my eyes and stared out the window again.
The open country side zipped past. Only a couple more hours and it’ll be night time, but Dean won’t stop the car until around 1:30 in the morning when we get to Bobby’s. Then, he’ll either crash in the morning in the upstairs bedroom, or he’ll see Zaviana and flip out. I did think about telling him that Bobby had gone to get her, maybe leaving out the fact that I had asked him to get her. Dean seems to be under the impression that she’s completely safe, but I don’t think that he remembers what happened when our mum died in that same way… We were constantly moving. Dad was scared all the time. We became hunters because of that one event. I don’t think that Dean is completely convinced that she’s not evil. Not saying that I trust her, but not many people can fake a convincing seizure.
“Can you play something better?” I ask.
“Better than Shoot to Thrill?” He looks at me with mock hurt. “How about…” He reaches over and flicks the ‘next’ button on the stereo. The opening riff to ACDC’s TNT started playing and I smiled slightly. I don’t mind these songs, but after hours and hours of them, they get quite repetitive.

 *************************************************************************************************

We pulled into the driveway at Bobby’s house. Dean drove into the garage where there is a spot reserved for his car, and turned off the engine. The Impala’s purr died and we could hear a dog barking. I opened the door and got out, following Dean out the garage down the path to the porch where Bobby’s dog guarded the house.
“Hush, Squid!” Dean demanded as he walked up to the door. The dog yelped and flattened herself along the deck. I reached out and patted her hear. She relaxed at my touch and rested her head on her paws, going back to her guard dog duties. Dean looked at me and I shrugged as he reached for the door.
He tapped on the old wood. There was a good chance that at two in the morning, Bobby was still awake.
Apparently, though, he wasn’t.
Dean opened the door and stepped inside, leaving me to follow.
The lights were off and I could hear Bobby snoring from his study. I followed Dean through the house, half expecting him to stop and ask about Zaviana.
I followed him upstairs and watched as he disappeared into one of the spare rooms.
“Night, Sammy.” He said, closing his bedroom door behind him.
“Night, Dean.” I replied as I walked by his room, heading to my own. I pushed open my door and flicked on the light. There was no girl sleeping in my bed, so either she was sleeping in Bobby’s room, or she was down in the bunker. Knowing Bobby, she would be downstairs.
The bunker is completely demon and ghost proof. Iron walls drenched in salt keep them out (or in). There are a number of devil traps that we use for trapping devils painted on the floors and walls, and there are many warding spells drawn all around. The water supply available down there is holy water, which burns demons. The bunker would be the safest place to put a strange girl. The safest for her and us.
I looked around my room, suddenly very tired. My bed looked inviting and I didn’t bother getting changed before jumping in, kicking off my boots and pulling off my shirt before falling asleep.