"Domain of the Beloved" by Tidia

Chapter 3

Before leaving the high school, the Winchester brothers stopped at the office. Sam waited for Dean outside. The elder brother suppressed a chuckle. The younger hunter could be so straight-laced sometimes, especially when it came to authority figures. However, he did not give the same respect to their ultimate authority figure—John Winchester. If Sam had spoken to every principal, teacher or guidance counselor as he spoke to their father. . .Dean let the thought trail off, like so many in the last two days. He would never be able to change the past. There was no use in dwelling on it.

The secretary was on the phone on what seemed to be a personal call since she looked at Dean guiltily. The older Winchester brother flashed a smile of understanding. She placed the call on hold. She gave him her undivided attention. "Hi, we're all set for our preliminary report. We may need to come back later if that's okay?"

She had her finger on the hold button ready to resume her conversation. "Sure, I'll tell Jeff." She placed the phone to her ear once more, and covered the mouth piece as she called out to Dean. "Have a nice day!"

Sam was seated in the passenger seat. It was the seat which Dean had explained was familiar with Sam's ass. "Principal said to tell you that you have detention tomorrow."

The younger hunter didn't reply, seemingly lost in thought. Thoughts could be consuming, filled with 'what if', 'should of' and Dean's personal favorite of 'if I only.' This cemented Dean's decision. He would not tell Sam about Cassie. His brother would somehow try to absorb the guilt that was solely his.

"Hey, I figure we could use the library's computer and then get some lunch?" Dean suggested as he pulled away from curb side parking space across from the school.

Sam's reverie was broken and he turned to Dean. "Sounds like a plan."

Dean agreed with Sam on the fact that he liked the architecture of old libraries versus those built circa 1960s. The cinder block construction lacked history. He would never admit that to his brother of course. While Sam posted on the message board, Dean researched the high school itself.

There were times when a building harbored spirits. There was the possibility of the site being a burial ground or mysterious deaths during construction. The school was relatively new, built in 1975 with federal funds and a state bond. The land was owned by the city, and had remained unused until it was decided that it would be a perfect place for a new high school. The structure that had been used as a high school was now a city administrative building used by the Department of Public Works. All in all it was a dead end. Dean returned the books and materials to the circulation desk. Sam was seated at the computer area.

He whispered loudly into his brother's ear, "Getting in touch with your inner fourteen year old girl?" Dean sat next to his brother at the available chair.

"Shut up." Sam smirked and closed down the window on the computer screen. It was better when Sam was feisty. They both could not be in the doldrums at the same time. One always had to bolster the other.

"I noticed a diner across the street. Figured some lunch and then we could see if there was a reply to Samantha." Dean suggested, knowing his brother would agree. He got up from the chair and started for the exit.

Sam entered the diner first. Another patron was leaving, so Dean held open the door for her and her little girl. He stared after her. There was something familiar. It was her scent. She smelled like Cassie.

It was during those first two weeks they were together. He had showered at her place, and had forgotten his shirt in the bedroom. He caught her smelling his shirt. Usually, Cassie was brazen, but she blushed upon being discovered.

"What are you doing?" He asked, laughing at her.

She shrugged her shoulders and handed him back the shirt. "I like the way you smell."

He had thought it odd, until now, and wished he had something other than a photo. He needed something with her lingering scent.

"Dean?" Sam interrupted his thoughts. He automatically must have followed Sam inside and taken a seat across from his brother. The menu lay open in front of him. He hated when he did things on auto-pilot. "I'll have a coffee and the chicken sandwich." He stated to the waitress. He closed the menu and pushed it away. He had wanted a Coke with lots of ice and a hamburger. It was hot outside, and a coffee was not going to cool him down. And the chicken sandwich? It was probably grilled instead of deep fried. Dean would be punished for not paying attention with an unsatisfying meal. "I checked out the school-and there's no supernatural connection to the building or the land."

"I still think it's Christy. We're just missing something." Sam toyed with the paper placemat, folding over its edges. "Did you check Dad's journal?"

Dean nodded, drinking the water the waitress had brought as an appetizer for a meal that was going to be lackluster. "Nothing about haunted high schools."

"Here comes our food." Sam commented, trying to iron out the paper mat. The waitress was bringing over one tray. It was not heavily laden with food.

"Chicken Cesar Salad," she slipped the plate in front of the younger Winchester. Dean snorted at his brother's choice. "Fried Chicken Strip Sandwich," she said to Dean as she placed the food on the table.

"Thank God," Dean sighed seeing the only vegetable on the plate was a dill pickle and the lettuce, tomato and onion stacked on the sandwich.

"What?" Sam asked, not understanding what his brother had said.

Dean smiled and bit into the pickle with gusto, glad lunch was not going to be a disappointment. "Looks good." There was companionable silence between the two brothers, each lost in their thoughts. Dean remembered his priority was his brother, not his misery. "Back at the school you spaced out. . ." He didn't feel comfortable breaching the subject. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Sam looked up from his salad. Dean saw the uncertainty in his brother's eyes and knew he had to press further. The older hunter was an expert in pushing down his emotions and letting his subconscious work on the issues. His brother needed to talk out his problems. "Was it a vision?"

Sam shook his head, and tentatively took bite of one of the chicken slices.

Dean rubbed his chin, and thought about where Sam had stopped. It was in front of some candid photos of the graduating class. "One of those pictures reminds you of Jess?"

Sam visibly swallowed and placed his fork down. He placed both hands on the placemat in attempt not to fidget. "Yeah, I guess."

Dean gave a quick nod. He wondered if he was as easy to read, probably not since Sam hadn't noticed that his older brother was drowning in suppressed grief. He needed to acknowledge Sam's feelings, and not allow him to wallow in any guilt. "It's all good, Sammy." He kept in direct eye contact with his brother. "You don't need to forget Jessica. I never meant that when I said you needed to move on." Dean believed what he was saying, and substituted the name Jessica for Cassie. "She's just going to be there sometimes just below the surface and sometimes down deep." The older hunter cleared his throat, a lump had formed and he couldn't say anything further. He bit into his sandwich.

Sam picked up his fork and shook his head with a smile on his face. Dean knew he helped his brother, and possibly himself. They finished their lunch with Dean leaving a hefty tip because he ended up with the right meal, even with the coffee.

Instead of returning to the library they decided to return to the hotel and see if someone had a wireless network in the area they could hijack.

Sam clicked the left button on the laptop in quick succession. "The motel office has an unsecured network."

Dean clapped his hands and rubbed them together. "Well that's getting the most bang for the buck."

"Don't you mean that Paul Stanley is getting his money's worth?" Sam commented and he went to the school's website.

"Whatever," Dean waved away the remark with his hand. He had chosen the KISS guitarist on his latest batch of credit card fraud. His brother never participated in the application process so not to possibly sully his record and therefore never be able to sit for the Bar exam in any state. Sam was unwilling to lose his dream of one day becoming a lawyer. He peered over his brother's shoulder. "What did they say?"

Sam summarized the postings. "Christy was well liked- normal parents, still together, into sports, she was at volleyball practice and never came back home."

"So she's not pulling a Carrie?" Even though Christy had been popular, there was always the chance she was a maladjusted teen. "Did she have a boyfriend?" Dean recalled the graffiti in the bathroom and wanted confirmation it was the same Christy.

"Yeah, it was Shane." Dean watched as Sam read the comments on the web board. He brushed his hair out of his eyes. "Guess he took it hard."

"Young love-so who is he with now?" The older hunter knew his brother would find the comment insensitive, further evidence Dean's feelings didn't run deep. But, it hit too close with Cassie's picture in his back pocket, folded and frozen in place in a moment in time. He ached. He was tired. "It is what it is."

"What?" Sam stared intently at the laptop, and hadn't noticed the comment.

"So why is she menacing those students?" Dean replied and then added, "What if it isn't Christy?" It had happened before. They had been misguided, even stubborn in their beliefs forgetting their best asset was flexibility and improvisation.

The younger Winchester shook his head. "It's Christy trying to tell us something."

Dean trusted his brother, whether it was his shining, a feeling or luck, if Sam felt it was Christy then the older Winchester would follow.

"We need to go back to the school." Dean decided because as much as he trusted Sam's psychic powers, they still left Dean without any control. By making the decision, Dean retained some power.

"Tonight?" The younger hunter questioned, closing the laptop.

Dean nodded, "Tonight."

The Winchester brothers waited until the small Texas town was suffocated with darkness. A forced afternoon nap and they were refreshed, ready to conquer the night.

There was no fence around the perimeter of the school. The school was secured with chains roped through the doors and a heavy lock. Reconnaissance around the building led to one door having a padlock, but no other lock on the door itself. It was also away from the street, hidden from any passersby.

Dean pulled out his pick. He heard the satisfying click that released that granted them access.

Sam removed the lock, and worked the chain out. Its rattling noise punctuated the quiet night. He coiled it and carried it inside, leaving it by the door. They were a precision team. Taught by their military father, the whole ordeal took less than 5 minutes.

They lit up the hallways with their flashlights, but there were emergency lights scattered throughout. The smell assaulted Dean first. There was an antiseptic smell of cleaning solution punctuated by a sweet odor. The older Winchester didn't know if it was teen hormones, or the lockers giving off some sort scent of remnants of their owners.

Dean twisted his wrist, making a circular pattern with the glow of the flashlight.

"Quit it!" Sam said, making an 'X' symbol with his light over the older hunter's circle.

The blond hunter chuckled at his own silliness. He understood the gravitas of the situation, but when he saw a place during the day and then saw it again at night the effect was disconcerting. The flashlight had provided a diversion. In the day the school seemed alive, at night the dimly lit hallways were menacing. The only comfort was the obvious—in a vacant building the two brothers didn't have to whisper, they could talk in a normal tone of voice.

"So should we start with the gym?" Dean gestured to the hallway that would take them there.

"We should check her locker too." Sam flashed the light on a bank of lockers. "Christy's locker was 214." The locker numbers on the first floor began with the number '1.' Christy's locker was on the second floor.

The gym was ahead. The brothers pushed the swinging doors open and they violently swatted back at them. The force swept the twosome off their feet and leveled them awkwardly to the floor.

"What the hell?" Dean pushed himself to his knees. His brother followed suit. The older hunter circled the younger. He was prepared to defend an attack from the unseen foe.

The red and white locker doors opened and closed, clapping at them. It was a dizzying effect, and the colors seemed to swirl together.

The doors to the gym would not allow them entry as they kept swinging back and forth, warning them off.

They were trapped, but they held their ground until the sign proclaiming 'Demon Spirit' came toward them, undulating back and forth as it made its way down the hall.

"I hate that sign," Sam yelled out over the commotion caused by the cacophony of the lockers.

Dean did not want to be tempted into action. But, the floor throbbed with vibration of the noise, beckoning a reaction. The older Winchester lifted the rock salt rifle, his bare arms extended and he fired.

"There's nothing to shoot!" His brother said as he aimed at the banner, freckling it with little holes.

"Shoot first, ask questions later." Dean blasted again, and proceeded down the hall towards the exit, until he felt his foot being grabbed.

He stomped his right foot, trying to shake off the curling fingers. Sam was doing the same dance without success as the brothers were lifted in the air. Dean held firm to his rifle. He fired again, and the tendrils clamped down on his ankle shaking him side to side so that he was forced into Sam, who grunted at the additional attack. The older hunter was dissuaded from using the rifle again until a better opportunity arose.

They went through another set of doors, which were held open to allow them to pass through without being kicked by the solid object. However, their bodies were manhandled as they were dragged along the smooth linoleum until they reached the stairs.

"No fucking way!" Dean exclaimed. He had remained complacent for the 2 minutes it took to go down the hall, but neither him nor Sam were going to be dragged down the stairs and face a concussion or worse.

The force that held them in its grip had some sort of revelation because it halted. Their feet were dropped with a thud to the ground. Gingerly, they stood up back in control of their bodies. Dean shook out his leg, and rotated the ankle, feeling the soreness setting in.

"That is not going to be a ride at Disney World any time soon." Dean stated as he glanced at his brother, reassuring himself that Sam was not injured. "What?" He asked as the younger Winchester met his gaze.

"She wants us to go down." Sam ran his hands through his hair, removing the grime he picked up as he had been dragged along.

Dean peered down the stairs. He did not like being led on a chase. "Hell, if I am going to give into her after all that."

Sam moved down a step, challenging his brother with a smirk to follow. "She's angry and she wants something. . ."

The blond hunter shrugged. He always gave into women, those with pretty faces and he guessed angry types too. Sam had called Cassie fearless. It was a trait that drove him crazy, and made him proud.

"Lead on," Dean gestured to his brother, bringing the rifle to a level of preparedness. Dean had no idea what was awaiting them.