Monachopsis

Chapter V: Scared Of Your Own Shadow?

"How?" asked Dean. His eyes were wide in awe of his father. I couldn't help but remember the same look in my eyes when I was twelve years old. It was the last time I ever looked at him like that.

"I'm working on that," said John. "That's why Gray's here. I need the three of you to watch out for each other until this whole shitshow is over with."

"Let us come with you," said Sam. "We'll help."

John bowed his head. His voice was almost inaudible, "No, Sam. Not yet." Louder, he said, "Try to understand. This demon is a scary son of a bitch. I don't want you caught in the crossfire. Any of you," he turned and looked at me. He held out a hand, and I understood; a peace offering. I took it. "I don't want you hurt."

"You don't have to worry about us," Sam assured him.

"Of course I do," John scoffed. He hadn't let go of me, instead moving his hand to my shoulder. The motion did not go unnoticed by Dean. "I'm your father."

John cleared his throat before starting again. "Listen, Sammy, the last time we were together, we had one hell of a fight."

"Yes, sir," Sam agreed.

John didn't say anything for a minute. He smiled ruefully to himself and nodded, as if he was coming to terms with something he had been holding onto. When he looked back up at Sam, his eyes seemed almost misty. "It's good to see you again," he said. "It's been a long time.

Sam said quietly, "Too long."

When John released me from his grip to embrace his son, I stepped back again. The heavy emotions of this reunion was stabbing me in the heart. I was again reminded of how much I didn't fit into this family. They were a unit; a team. All my life it was just Mom and me. What was I going to do now that it was just me?

My uncomfortable shuffling caught Dean's eye. When his gaze shifted from his family to me, I couldn't read the emotions in them. His guard was up, and I had a feeling it would take a lot before he let those walls down enough for me to know him. Looking at him now, I feared he would never really be my brother.

It was another moment before John broke away from Sam. With the additional glow of the streetlights outside, I caught a glimpse of a damp trail down the side of his face. But before I could really get a good look at it, he turned to Dean.

However, my heart leapt in my chest when John suddenly went flying backwards. I cried out, but before I could hurry over to him, Sam yelled as he--too--was tossed across the room by nothing. Then Dean. It was only when I glanced at the wall that I noticed the disembodied silhouettes flitting from wall to wall.

But in the next moment, a force like a truck knocked me off my feet. I had less than a minute of suspension before I hit the wall and everything went black.

The details of what happened after I was knocked out are fuzzy. I know I was only out for a few seconds. When I opened my eyes, the room around me was tilting and blurry. But despite the ringing in my ears, John's screams of pain echoed clear in my skull.

"Dad!" I cried out. Adrenaline was beginning to pump, instinct pushing me to my knees.

No more than five feet away, John was pinned against the cabinets, screaming as shadow-claws sliced his chest to ribbons. On the other side of the room, Sam and Dean were being tossed around like rag dolls. As soon as they would muster the strength to climb to their knees, the shadow monsters would fling them back down to the ground.

John let out another raw roar. The sound jarred me into action, struggling to climb to my feet. My head was pounding from the dent it left in the drywall, and as soon as I was upright, I was flying across the room. My puppet-body slammed into something that wasn't a wall. Dean groaned as the two of us hit the ground. Instinctively, he grabbed me by the biceps, keeping me from being thrown out the window and into the street two floors below.

"What is this thing?" I demanded.

Dean didn't answer, breathing heavily. He again tried to make a run for John, but was stopped. Across the room, Sam was rifling through a bag on the ground. He shouted, "Shut your eyes! These things are shadow demons, so let's light 'em up!"

They're what? I thought to myself. But I didn't have time to make sense of what he'd said before Dean seized my arm in a vise-grip and yanked me to the ground. Pain shot through my hip as I hit the floor. Dean flung out his arm and shoved my head against his chest. Through my eyelids, an impossibly bright white light flared.

John's screams stopped. Dean gripped my arms and instructed me to keep my eyes closed. He hauled me to my feet, but before he could escort me anywhere, I shrugged him off. I opened my eyes as much as I could and gave him the best glare I could muster.

"I'm fine," I tried to say. But words were replaced with a sudden, hacking cough. Thin smoke permeated the air of the hotel room.

Dean clung to the couch cushions and called out, "Dad!"

I couldn't hear John's reply with the ringing in my ears, but Dean stumbled in the direction of the door. I felt my way along the walls, searching--and locating--my duffel bag sitting by the restroom. I stumbled my way across the room blind, walking into another body against the wall. I caught sight of Sam's shaggy brown hair through barely-open eyes.

Sam gripped the shoulder of my jacket, and the two of us followed the hunched over figures of John and Dean as they led the way to the door.