The Boy With No Name

Part 1

Author's Note

Okay, so this is a new book i am writing. I'm going to try and upload regularly but i can't make any promises. (I'm annoying like that XD)

Spoilers if you haven't watched up to Season 2 Episode 4: Children Shouldn't Play With Dead Things.

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"What's dead should stay dead." Dean yelled, stabbing Angela one final time in the chest with a long metal stake. Sam just stood to the side, absent-mindedly cradling his injured hand as he watched Dean re-cover the coffin in soil. 

Sam trudged slowly back to the impala, having no energy left after what he had just been through. He had just been the bait, again! Why was it always him? 

Sure, they had both gotten pretty beaten up, but Sam had take the brunt of the attack. Angela Mason, the zombie they had been hunting, had attacked him when she got to the cemetery and he'd injured his hand pretty bad. 

Dean had a series of large cuts across the left side of his rib-cage, but that was nothing to him. The cuts hadn't even bled much.

As Dean slid into the driver's seat of the impala, he glanced cautiously at Sam. Sam had his head leaning on the window of the passenger seat, eyes closed, and he looked suspiciously pale. I mean, he was always a pale moose but he looked even paler that usual. A thin sheen of sweat coated his forehead and he was clutching at his hand weakly. Dean winced in sympathy. He felt bad for his brother, Sam was always the bait on these hunts. 

The longer Dean examined the expression on his brother's face, the more unsettled he became. He had a feeling something was wrong, but he just shrugged it off.

Turning the ignition, Dean relaxed slightly, letting the comforting hum of the impala shake away his unsettling thoughts. But in the back of his head he couldn't shake the feeling that  something was wrong.

The Winchester brothers had been driving for about 3 hours when Dean pulled into a Motel. He hadn't really wanted to, wanting to keep driving until they reached the bunker, but he knew they both needed time to sleep and recover.

He switched off the ignition, opening his door and stretching his legs. Turning to look at his brother, he noticed he was asleep. He frowned slightly. Sam never slept in the car. The only time Sam slept in the car was when he was sick or in pain. Once again, he shook it off.

"Sammy, wake up," Dean whispered, not wanting to startle him. Sam stirred slightly, but didn't open his eyes. 

"Sammy." He repeated, a little firmer. He shook his little brother's arm gently, trying to stir him awake. All he got was a groan as Sam shifted positions, still refusing to wake up.

Dean sighed softly, opting to carry Sam out of the car and into the motel instead. He walked over to Sam's side of the impala and opened the door. He placed one arm under his brother's knees and the other around his back. Despite his height, Sam wasn't actually that heavy, making it really easy for Dean to carry him to their room in the motel.

The motel room was grungy, but it wasn't as bad as some of the other rooms they'd had in the past. It had the basics; a kitchenette, two beds and a small bathroom. That was all they needed.

Dean walked over to the two beds, placing Sam down on the cleanest looking one. Sam's needs always came before his own. Dean jogged back to the impala, grabbing their duffel bags, before returning back to Sam in their room. 

When he returned he saw that Sam was in exactly the same position as he left him in. Dean set up the customary salt lines on all the entrances and windows, drawing the enochian symbols on the door also. 

Casting one last look at Sam, Dean collapsed onto the other bed, falling asleep almost instantly.