Hello everyone, I'm soooo sorry for the long delay. I hope you will all forgive me . . . and believe me the next chapter will be along shortly as well!
Enjoy:
"Okay Sammy, what the hell happened while I was gone? And just so you know, you no longer have permission to stay in any hotel alone ever again," Dean told him, then grinned as Sam looked at him with those big pleading puppy dog eyes.
"Dean . . . I don't know what the hell is going on," he paused, trying to collect all of the thoughts from his muddled mind. "I had this weird dream . . . and I was in some little boy's body . . ."
Dean sighed deeply as Sam replayed the dream and the events afterward to him. "So your saying Casper actually showed her ugly face after you had the dream about her drowning you . . . I mean the little kids?"
"No Dean, I made the entire story up and stopped breathing for shits and giggles!" Sam exclaimed as he popped a few painkillers in his mouth and swallowed them dry. "Can we please just drop it now?"
Dean shook his head. "I'm afraid not baby brother, you nearly died on me tonight . . . maybe we should just drop the case and leave town. After all, neither of us has ever been singled out by a spirit like this."
Sam groaned at let himself fall back into the comfort of the musty hotel bed. "I've never been to this town before, so why would the ghost decide to choose me to . . . kill me next?"
The older Winchester winced at the thought of yet another ghost trying to kill his little brother. "Maybe you have a different kind of connection to all of this . . . maybe your dreams are the connection, or maybe the ghost has some creepy attachment to you . . ." Dean yelped as the pillow Sam threw at him with perfect aim causing him to tumble from his own bed.
"Oh did I hurt your feelings Sammy?" Dean cooed sarcastically from his spot on the ground. He slowly clambered to his feet and made his way towards the window where he pulled the curtain away and gazed down at his Chevy Impala. "She came through this window Sammy?"
"It's Sam," an extremely groggy voice whined from the bed. "Dean I almost drowned tonight . . . we're not dropping this case and I'll come with you to check out all the other victim's wives tomorrow okay? Just have a heart and let me sleep!" Sam told him, both wanting to fall asleep and stay awake to avoid any memories all at the same time.
Groaning loudly, Dean let his head fall forward onto the plate glass window. "Fine, but just so you know, you'll be answering all of these questions again in the morning."
"Aren't you gonna go to sleep?" The now slurred voice asked. Sam snuggled into the thin sheets on the bed and let his face droop comfortably onto the flat pillow. He already knew Dean would stay up and make sure whatever was here earlier wouldn't try to hurt him again. Dean had been protecting him for as long as he could remember, this time wasn't any different.
"Maybe I will later Sammy, I'm just gonna stay up for a while and . . . do some research on this town," Dean lied, knowing that the night ahead wasn't going to be pleasant. He had a feeling Sam would be having night tremors and he'd have to be here incase any of them were connected to Casper. Secretly Dean just wanted to make sure that the freaky ghost wouldn't decide to pay another visit to his brother.
The night went on and no sign of the ghost had shown. Dean had had to wake Sam up a few times after he had been thrashing and mumbling in his sleep.
So now Dean sat and kept his eyes trained on the window and his entire body tuned to the essence of the room, he'd know if any ghost entered here. The hours bore on, and the older brother couldn't help but to let his eyes gracefully fall down to his cheeks. He had fallen asleep.
"Sammy . . . Sammy . . . Sammy," the cold voice whispered into the night air.
Sam Winchester gasped, his eyes snapping open and his body jolting up into a sitting position. Blearily he looked around the room, his eyes slowly coming into focus. His eyebrows raised when his eyes landed on his sleeping older brother.
"So much for keeping guard," he mumbled, settling himself back down onto the bed. He realized the more blankets were pilled on him than before. Dean must have covered me with them while I was sleeping, he thought. His brother was always doing stuff like that; checking up on him, making sure he ate right . . . well ate anyway.
"Sammy . . . Sammy . . . Sammy," the voice whispered again, only this time getting the attention of the youngest Winchester.
Panic consumed Sam as he bolted upright again and snapped his head back and forth trying to find the source of the voice that was calling to him. "What do you want?" he asked, his voice nothing more than a harsh whisper.
"My sweet boy," the voice called out again. Suddenly the form of the woman from earlier appeared next to the bed Sam was occupying.
Sam was about to call out to his brother when her hand placed itself over his mouth. Sam could instantly feel the coldness as her dead, cold skin made contact with his own warmth. Then he felt another hand being placed behind his head.
The youngest Winchester tried to fight off the hands that held him in that awkward position, but when he tried to push the hands away, his own went right through the others. The earlier feeling of being drained of warmth was back and the comforting feeling of the heat was being replaced with the bitter cold.
"Mmmm," Sam groaned, the sound muffled by the intruding object over his face.
"You're my sweet boy," She whispered in his ear.
Suddenly Sam felt the sensation of floating and he realized that he was being carried. He couldn't help but be astounded as the spirit carried him with such ease. Then suddenly the hand over his mouth was gone, but the coldness still lingered.
With a sudden burst of energy, Sam lashed out, hitting a lamp on a table near the door he was being carried out of.
Dean was immediately on alert. When his eyes landed on the ugly ghost, his hand searched for the shotgun that had been positioned at his side for an incident just like this one. "Put him down," he ordered, not really knowing if the ghost could comprehend what he had just asked.
The ghost sneered at him and looked down at the younger Winchester who was now lying limp within her dead, purple arms. "He's my sweet boy," she whispered, her voice hoarse from being dead for so long.
"Put him down," Dean yelled this time, not caring if the other occupants of the motel could hear him. When the ghost did not heed the second time, Dean shot a round of rock salt into the ghost.
She instantly cried out in pain and dropped Sam onto the ground, disappearing into the night.
Dean's brow furrowed as he could vaguely hear the ghost whispering, "I am Llorona, he is mine." He ignored that for now and rushed over to his baby brother, guilt consuming him for falling asleep. "Sammy?" he asked hesitantly.
A soft grunt answered him and brown eyes opened to catch his in a staring contest. "Looks like it doesn't even matter if I'm in a motel room by myself," Sam whispered. "You're acrappy bodyguard by the way."
Dean rolled his eyes and helped Sam to his feet. "Funny you should say that Sam. Besides, I'm not the one with a spirit trying to . . . do whatever that spirit was trying to do to you."
"I don't get it. This wasn't like the last time, I didn't feel as drained or as cold," Sam muttered from his place on the floor. He shivered slightly, looking up at his brother.
"Well your lips are blue and so is the rest of your body . . . your freezing," Dean informed him pulling Sam to his feet and supporting his weight as he half-dragged, half-carried his brother to his bed. After piling the numerous blankets on his brother he looked at the clock that sat on the nightstand.
4:27 a.m. "There isn't any chance of getting you back to bed is there?" Dean asked with a half-smile.
"Nope," Sam told him, sitting up then placing the laptop on his thighs.
"Thought so," Dean mumbled. He took the laptop from his brother and ignored his whines and protests as he did so. "When she left, she said her name was Llorona and that you were hers . . . I'd say you're the next victim Sammy."
When Sam didn't reply or protest to the pet name, Dean looked over to find his brother fast asleep. "You need to quit doing that Sammy," Dean whispered as he started googeling the name 'Llorona'.
TBC . . . I hope you liked it!