Cursed Dawn [Supernatural Fanfiction)

Small Town Stranger

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Grabbing the nylon seat belt, Dean finally unbuckled Sam and threw open his door. Coughing and shielding his eyes from the smoke, Dean pushed Sam's shoulders frantically until he fell out of the car. Sam hit the pavement and flipped over just at the same moment he saw Dean holding his hand out and shouting something over the crackling flames.

"Dean! Get out!" Sam tried to get to his feet, but his ankle had rolled severely when he had tumbled out of the car and prohibited him from standing up straight. "Dean, no!"

The car door Dean was trying to get out of was framed by blurry strips of red and orange. Smoke had filled the Impala and coated the windows with a layer of cloudy grey. Dean retracted from the fiery fingers and tried to slip out of the driver's seat. But that side was just as bad. The handle was scorching hot and the floor was being eaten away by the fire. There was no way Dean could escape safely.

Sam made it to his feet and hobbled over as close as he could to the car before a blast of heat permitted him from going any further. "Dean! I won't leave you! Dean!" From inside the thick billows of smoke, Sam could see Dean's hands pounding on the windows and the faint yelling underneath the roaring fires. Sam looked around desperately for help, but there was none to be seen. They were in an abandoned neighborhood searching for a cyber-space ghost-- there would be no one to save them. Determined, Sam stepped forward toward the car, preparing himself to open it the moment he had an opening between the flames.

But instead, he saw Dean kick the driver's door open and fall into the arms of some unidentified figure. The two of them fled to the woods. Sam stopped where he was, trying to figure out what had just happened. He glanced at the car and saw its entire frame warble and ripple from the heat and then, before he had time to react, the car exploded. Sam's body was propelled backwards and a raging ball of fire flung him onto the sidewalk. The young Winchester remained motionless for some time.

Grunting and moaning from the great ache in his back and neck, Sam looked over to the embers sparkling on the streets in an almost mocking memory of the tragedy that had just taken place. Reaching his hand across the rough asphalt, Sam mumbled in an almost childlike innocence, "Dean? Dean?" Closing his eyes, Sam suddenly saw a vision. It was a vision of Dean lying in a field. The sound of feet crunching leaves was heard-- but no one was seen running. The scene of Dean zoomed in and Sam was able to get a clear look at his brother's face. The left side was seared; mangled; distorted. The right side was pure; fresh; and just like what Dean had looked like before the brutality of both worlds overtook his spirit.

The vision continued with a tall, eloquent creature stepping out into the field and kneeling down beside Dean. A pale hand came into the frame-- Sam never saw the stranger's face --and rested gently on Dean's head. The white fingers extended and webbed out, covering the entire surface of Dean's face. It seemed, at first, that this visitor was going to restore Dean and return him to his proper place. But instead, the hand slipped away-- taking the remaining features of Dean's face. Sam gritted his teeth and winced at the pain throbbing in his head. The vision proceeded in quick flashes and cuts, showing the thin man digging a deep hole and kicking Dean inside.

"Dean!" Sam shouted, waking himself up to reality. His breathing was sporadic and his heart thundered inside his chest. Clutching the front of his shirt, Sam stumbled to his limp ankle and started walking toward town. He had to find Castiel and Laurel, two angel siblings who helped them through their cases from time to time. Sam wasn't sure what they could do or where he could find them, but he knew they would do anything in their power to help him find Dean.

Sam walked weakly into a rural city where neighborhoods were separated by chain-linked fences and barking Rottweilers. Seldom people were seen and, if Sam did see one, they were either sitting in an alleyway with an empty bottle or on their front porch with a shotgun. Stopping to catch his breath and to take the weight off his ankle, Sam caught sight of a bar just a few blocks down. Knowing Dean would go there regardless if they needed information, Sam decided it would be a good stop.