Dean paused with his hand on the doorknob and lifted his brows as he stared at Brian. “Dude. Seriously? Some sort of supernatural being is in your kid’s closet. That is a perfectly reasonable explanation.”
“In your world,” Brian shot back. “In my world, the only monsters are murderers, other sorts of criminals, and telemarketers.”
“Well in your world, the grass is always greener on the other side, and the sky is always blue, right?” Dean was getting tired of the disbelief on Brian’s part. There was a job that needed to be done, and it wasn’t going to happen if Brian kept hedging. He pushed open the door and stepped in.
Brian was on his heels in a flash. “My skies can be gray, too. But that’s beside the point. Are you seriously telling me that you think I’m naïve?” He lowered his voice when he remembered that Baylee was still sleeping. And, speaking of his son, Baylee was wrapped up in his blankets, and only his blond curls stuck out from under the covers.
Sam decided it was time to intervene. “Why don’t we just call a truce, guys? Brian, why don’t you let us do what we need to do and figure out what is haunting your son’s closet? And, Dean?”
“Smartass.”
“Just do your job, and keep the wisecracks on the side.” Sam raised his brows when both men stared at him. “What? I’m the only reasonable one of the three of us right now, so I’m calling the shots. Dean, go check out that closet. Brian, hang out with your kid. Go,” he added, when they continued to stare at him.
“Jesus, I’m going, I’m going,” Dean muttered and began to move towards the closet.
“Hey!” Brian stopped him. “Watch your language. We don’t tolerate using the Lord’s name in vain in this house. If you’re here, you abide by the rules,” he explained, when Dean glared at him.
“Friggin’ Jesus lovers.” Dean hoped Brian didn’t hear him muttering away in the closet.
Sam sent Brian a reassuring smile before he joined his brother. Sometimes, he really couldn’t believe the kinds of shit he had to put up with on the job. Whenever Dean felt really belligerent, he was a downright pain in the ass. Always thinking he was in charge and knew what was best, Dean didn’t usually utilize his people skills. Not that he had any. Unless you could count luring women into the backseat of the Impala or back to a hotel room somewhere people skills. Sam didn’t count it.
Of course, when a client—Sam liked to call them “clients” in his head because it sounded too weird when you said it aloud, and Dean was sure to say that they weren’t working for the people they were saving, they were working for Good, so they couldn’t possibly have clients—was difficult, the job could get to be a drag. He sincerely hoped this job wouldn’t be a pain to work. If Brian kept stonewalling them, though, it would turn into a hassle.
And then he couldn’t think at all as the pain shot through his skull, so it felt like there were mallets and hammers pounding thousands of nails and bolts through his brain. He never felt the pain in his knees as he dropped onto them and clutched his head.
Baylee was playing with a remote control car in the den as the television showed scenes from Disney’s Cars. Outside the window, the sun was shining, and the branches of the pine tree scraped against the glass.
“Vroom vroom!” Baylee cackled with childishly mischievous laughter as one of the cars on screen crashed at the same time as his remote controlled one smashed against the sofa.
The scene switched, and Sam barely registered the fact that Brian and Dean were patting his back, his shoulder, trying to soothe him. He dimly heard the panic in both voices, and Brian frantically asking Dean what was the matter with him. He didn’t hear the response as another image flashed in his mind.
There was sunlight streaming through the window of the den as Brian tucked a throw around Baylee as the little boy napped on the couch. He murmured something to his son before pressing a kiss to Baylee’s head, then he left the room, humming to himself.
Baylee shifted in his sleep and didn’t feel the breeze that swept through the room and fluttered his hair. The window was closed and locked.
Suddenly, the television turned on, and the screen was full of static for a moment. Then, a hand slid out of the console.
The image flickered in Sam’s head. The next image was grisly.
Brian wept in the center of the room as EMTs bustled in and out of the den. On the wall and seeping through the pristine white carpet of the room, blood formed patterns and dripped from Brian’s hands.
Sam collapsed fully onto the floor as the vision passed and waited for the room to stop spinning.
“Sammy? You okay?” Dean knelt next to his little brother and wished for the millionth time that Sam had been cursed with some other power. Like telekinesis. Telekinesis would be cool. Not so painful and would totally come in handy during a tricky battle with a demon or something. Visions, though, they could all live without. “Sam?”
Sam tried to sit up, but his head continued to pound, so he lay back. “Dean. It’s okay. I’ll be fine.” When Brian, too, leaned over him, Sam frowned. “Why does Brian have three heads? That’s not normal.”
It shouldn’t have been funny, Dean knew, but he couldn’t help it. The snicker escaped his lips, and he found himself faced with a pair of icy blue eyes. He disguised the chuckle by coughing. “Sorry, man. He’ll be fine.”
“Well, that’s a relief.” But Brian still watched Sam, concerned. “Is that normal?”
“Happens all the damn time,” Dean said nonchalantly, though he knew visions were anything but nonchalant. “He just had a vision.”
Brian’s brows flew up. “I didn’t know visions were supposed to be that painful. In movies or whatever, they’re pretty easy.”
“Yeah, well, this isn’t a movie,” Sam muttered as he struggled to his feet. “It’s real life, they’re a real pain, and your son’s still in danger. Dean.”
He knew that tone. When Sam had that tone of voice, it meant that things weren’t going to get better. If anything, they were about to get worse. “What is it?”
“There’s something in the television in the den.”
“Look, I bought the whole thing about the monster in the closet, but in my TV?” Brian shook his head. “No. No way am I going to believe that. It’s like The Ring or something.”
“Decent movie,” Dean commented. “That Naomi Watts was something else. But the premise was crap,” he added as an afterthought.
Brian nodded in agreement. “Seriously, half of it didn’t even add up. Besides, if you’re any sort of a decent parent, you would never let your kid get that far off track. Pft, I didn’t even bother watching the sequel.”
“Not worth it,” Dean assured him.
Sam rolled his eyes. “Let’s stay on track here, shall we? I know what I saw, Brian, and I’ve usually never been wrong. All we have to do is figure out why you have two monsters in your home.”
“Not two.”
Sam and Brian both looked at Dean. “What do you mean ‘not two’?” Sam asked.
“I checked Baylee’s closet, and there was nothing on the EMF. But when I checked the television in that room, the sensor lit up like Christmas.” Dean frowned. “It’s one evil spirit. I just can’t figure out how it’s changing.”
“It’s not a shapeshifter.” Sam pulled out a battered, leather-bound journal and flipped through it. “A shapeshifter wouldn’t be able to appear and disappear like that or get into an inanimate object.”
Dean leaned back in the kitchen chair. And considered. “Not a shapeshifter, but not our usual, run-of-the-mill evil spirit either. Most don’t change their forms,” he explained to a very confused-looking Brian.
“I still can’t believe I’ve got evil things roaming around in my house,” Brian said after a moment. “I go to church, I believe in God, and, yet, I still have something in this house that could kill my son.”
“Maybe we could put the herb mixture into the walls again,” Sam suggested. “It worked for our old house, maybe it could work here.”
Dean shook his head. “Nah. This is different. I just-”
“Sam!” There was the pitter patter of little feet that gave Sam a two second warning before a four and a half year old hurled himself into Sam’s arms. “You’re back!”
Sam managed to catch Baylee before he could fall off his lap and tried to figure out how to handle a child. He’d never exactly had the opportunity to be around children his age when he was that old, and, later, the only contact he’d had with a young child had been the really quiet one with the murdering grandfather. Of course, that kid had bonded with Dean. Baylee, though, was another story.
“Are you here to get rid of the monster?” Baylee bounced a little. “Are you? Are you? ‘Cuz I don’t want it to hurt Daddy or me, and you have to be really careful around it, too, because it could eat you. It’s got really big teeth,” he added with a tiny shudder. His arms latched around Sam’s neck as his head settled against Sam’s shoulder. “Please don’t let it eat Daddy and me. Mommy would be sad if we got eaten.”
Sam patted his back. “Don’t worry. We’ll make sure you’re safe.” He’d never had a child give him such full trust before. It was disconcerting, but it made something warm spread through him, too.
“Promise?” Baylee leaned back, and his big blue eyes beseeched Sam to say everything really was going to be fine.
“I promise.” He tousled Baylee’s mess of curls and smiled over his head at Brian. “You’ll both be safe.”
“Yeah,” Dean muttered. “Just as soon as we figure out what the heck is going on.”
