Young Blood [SUPERNATURAL]

Part 20: The Basement

a/n: wow, how long has it been since an update...too long. But shit is about to go down, and I'm excited to finally finish this book so let's go. Leave me a comment! :)  

"WHERE'S DEAN?"

"Not coming." Ash answered shortly, all business. "Did you find out which room Wyatt's in?"

"212. Second floor." Sam raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean, he's not coming? Did something happen?" He grabbed Ash's arm at the elbow, preventing her from ignoring him. "Is he okay?"

"He's fine." Ash informed. "Just an asshole." 

"Well...yeah...but..." There wasn't time for him to say anything else; Ash wasn't listening. Something about the way her eyes had brushed over his face, as if she hadn't really seen him at all, had Sam on edge. Something had definitely happened between her and Dean- that was the only explanation as to why Dean wouldn't be accompanying them. But Sam was keen enough to know that now wasn't the time to talk about it. 

Flying up the steps that ran along the spine of the hotel, Ash forced the memories from her argument with Dean to that dark place in the back of her mind where all her unpleasant memories lived- that night Wyatt turned, the brief period when she was believed that he had betrayed her and was responsible for killing innocents, and the look in Dean's eyes when he said you're dependent on a monster, the way the words sliced through her, like a blade of ice, when he said she was damaged and scared to be alone. But she couldn't think about any of that now, least of all Dean. She couldn't even find the emotional space to be angry at herself for letting him in. It was her fault, after all, for believing he could understand. 

Her body was operating on its own, on a mission. It seemed as if an instant, she was standing outside of room 212. She raised her hand but hesitated. Whether she was planning to try the doorknob, knock, or kick the door in, she couldn't say. The sudden urge to cry was a flush of hot heat against her eyelids but before she could even make the decision to swallow the tears or let them fall, she felt Sam behind her. 

"You ready for this?" His voice was even. Not at all nervous, the way she felt. In his hand, a curled machete glittered menacingly. 

It probably wasn't the smartest advance, but in a swift motion, Sam kicked the door, his foot landing solidly just below the knob. The door cracked under the force, swinging open dejectedly from the hinges. Moving with the stealth of an animal, Sam flew into the room. 

Releasing a hollow breath, Ash gripped the handle of the smaller machete that was concealed within the waist of her jeans and followed. Her heart was pounded- anticipation, fear, maybe something else she couldn't name. Her senses seemed to be heightened, eyes flitting from one dark, empty corner of the room to another. She followed behind Sam's large frame, listening as hard as she could for any movement, any trace of Wyatt or Ky. Of anything. And when Sam reached the other side of the room, flicking open the blinds to illuminate the vacancy, Ash felt all hopes of finding Wyatt drop from her heart, to where they died in the pit of her stomach. 

"He was here." Ash mumbled to herself. She knew she must look wild- trembling, brandishing a knife that was too big for her to hold comfortably, eyes stinging and red. Normally, she wouldn't want to appear too emotional or desperate in front of Sam- or anyone, for that matter. But this wasn't a choice. 

"He was here." She repeated dully. "We saw him."

Across the room, Sam was still looking around, brows furrowed darkly. He was throwing open the drawers of the nightstand, undoubtedly searching for some indication that Wyatt or Ky had been here, and he didn't notice Ash numbly stumble out of the door, into the hallway. She pressed her back against the wall, her mind reeling. Push it down, she told herself. Push it down, keep going.