God's Gift of Hope (Supernatural Fanfiction )

Scene 16

"There is nothing..." grumbled Sam. The three siblings were sitting around the small table in the motel room. Each had a laptop in front of them – as well as several printouts of what the sheriff's department had been able to find thus far in the investigation, into the two separate murder suicides.

A printer sat proudly at the fourth spot at the table; Dean having procured it using his FBI badge from the not so happy owner of the motel.

A discouraged Hope stood and made her way over to the bed. She lay down, looking at the ceiling, lost in her thoughts. Dean shoved his computer away from himself, "Let's review..." he said to the room.

"Ok... Not a spirt – no EMF. Not a demon – no sulphur." started Sam, he was sat with his back to Hope, on Dean's right side, "And most likely not an animal, beast, werewolf or vampire – not to mention any other supernatural being we have ever come across before..." Dean added, touchiness rising in his voice.

"And most likely not a cursed object, unless the two cases are separate... and not linked after all... but looking at these pictures," Sam picked up the crime scene photo's as he spoke and looking them over again, he came to the same conclusion, "they look exactly the same. Same kind of injuries; as if they clawed at each other or themselves, maybe while fighting... and the same kind of ending – death by blade..."

"Yeah well, there is no way it could be a cursed object – not the same one anyway. Given that, there is no connection between the two groups of people; and how did they get their hands on the stuff from the deceased estate anyway? Well, at least we will know by this time tomorrow..." As Dean finished his comment, Sam looked up from his laptop and with a confused look plastered on his face, he asked, "How's that?"

"This time tomorrow, the sheriff's department should have itemised and logged everything on this list," Dean picked up the inventory list of the deceased estate and shaking it in Sam's direction he continued, "and given that this object would have acted pretty quickly to get that level of carnage..." Dean's voice trailed off.

"If an object here is cursed, we'll have another bloodbath by this time tomorrow?" Sam finished for Dean, "So what? We just wait around to see if that happens?"

"Yeah. Well, there is nothing else we can do Sammy..." Dean stood and started walking over towards the bathroom.

"Then what? We go home if nothing happens... or... we what... Wait some more? We are still waiting for this supposed hound..." Sam stopped talking, realising he had gone too far; he turned in his chair and looked at Hope, who was lying on the bed looking back at him, "I'm sorry" he said to her.

"You still don't believe me... Do you?" Hope questioned Sam quietly. Dean, who had stopped in the middle of the room, when Sam had first put his foot in it, continued his walk to the bathroom, listening carefully.

"I..." Sam was going to say 'I do', but he knew that was wrong, Instead Sam rose and walked over to the side of the bed and sat down looking at Hope, he continued softly, shaking his head slightly, "No... I concede the hounds are real that they have attacked before. I'm just still not convinced of the why..."

In the silence of the room, Sam and Hope could both hear the tap running in the bathroom. Shortly it shut off, as Dean finished washing his face.

"Why not?" Hope challenged Sam.

"Well..." Sam began, "because that isn't what they do. Their primary role seems to be the collection of souls from the people who sold out for some deal; and sometimes, rarely, a demon may be controlling them and using them to hunt and kill people. But I don't get why some demon would control them to get at you?"

Hope had no answer to that, so she just lay there looking back at Sam, who continued carefully, "Not to mention – how does the next one even find you?"

"How do they find the souls they have to collect – normally?" Hope countered.

Sam thought about it and then replied, "I don't know, but it doesn't really matter because you, can't be found. Castiel can't find you – so you're shielded."

"I don't know how that happened. But maybe I'm only shielded from him... from Castiel, not from demons or hellhounds..." Hope was trying to find answers for her brother, but honestly, she knew of no answers that would help him understand any better than she herself did.

"Then... why wait around? That is what they do right? Find you and wait?" Sam asked, trying to understand.

"Well... maybe they need to be there – to see people help me – to know who to go after. It is not like collecting a soul – when your times up – your times up... Somebody could help me whenever, and they need to be there, to see that..." what Hope was saying sounded plausible to Sam, and to Dean who had been standing silently in the bathroom, listening.

"How do you know they are there?" Dean finally spoke, breaking the silence, as he stepped out of the bathroom.

"You can feel them..." Hope looked over to Dean as she answered, "And hear them. Sometimes it is obvious. Your hear snorting and growls. Other times you have to be really still and concentrate; in time you can tell there is something there still – watching."

"That's what you were doing when it attacked?" Dean was thinking back to when the two of them had fought the hound together, "You just stood there... waiting... because you were listening to where it was... you knew where to strike, not because you could see it... but because you could hear it..." Dean's revelation had both him, and Sam impressed, as Hope merely nodded. An awed silence descended on the boys.

Sam broke the silence, "When was the last time one attacked?"

"Seven years ago..." Hope stopped talking as she saw the look of sadness fall over Dean's face. She realised what he was thinking; it had been that long since someone had helped her.

Sam rushed on before Dean could get too upset, "And you killed it?" Hope nodded, "and that is when it took thirty-two hours for the next one to appear?"

"No... it was only a couple of hours that time. Three at the most. It was three hounds ago that took thirty-two hours..." Hope admitted slowly.

"So... in seven years, things could have changed?" Sam asked his sister. Hope, not knowing what Sam was after, just lay there, not responding.

"The demon, who was doing this, could have moved on, or been destroyed or lost his ability to control the hounds..." Dean was talking now; he looked hopeful at the prospect of finding a plausible reason why the hounds may have stopped this time.

"It certainly is a possibility," Sam added, shaking his head in agreeance with Dean's statement, "and maybe a reason why none has shown this time..." Sam sighed as Hope nodded, and then he continued, "Look... I'm sorry I'm sceptical – usually, that's Dean's job..." Dean scoffed at Sam's comment, "Ultimately, it doesn't matter what I think. I am here and I am not going anywhere. I will fight with you... If..." he let the word hang there, for just a second, before, "another one comes..."

"Thanks." Hope said quietly with a small smile on her face.

"No problem..." Sam replied, "now how about you get some sleep!"

Hope let out a breath, as her shoulders relaxed and she nodded at Sam's new plan, "Sam..." she called to him as he stood to move away.

"Yeah" Sam turned back to look at Hope.

"If I have a nightmare... will you wake me?" she asked him.

"Of course, Hope... of course"

Fade Out