A FRESH CHANGE OF CLOTHES
The short, sharp blade of the knife was deeply curved designed only to do one thing only, slice flesh, human flesh. The honed blade was lightly gripped between Dean’s fingers as he leaped into the dark.
A week earlier Dean had looked into those puppy dog eyes of Sammy’s, turned around and driven 400 miles the wrong way to St. Louis just because Sammy had received an email from a Stanford girl in trouble. Sammy was on his way to rescue a damsel in distress.
Dean had warned ‘College Joe’ that his social life had ended the day Jess burned. Big Brother didn’t have friends, didn’t need friends. Sammy fumed, Big Brother always kicked out friends like everything else that got in the way of the almighty Hunt.
When Sam knocked on Rebecca Warren’s door he knew just how wrong Dean had been about friends. She was desperate and he had arrived just on time to save her. Let Dean mock all he wanted about that damsel in distress junk, just as he could stop his leering at Becky.
Rebecca was in trouble, she had to clear her brother Zack of murder, and it was bad. She had a security tape showing her brother going into the murder house where he was accused of tying up, beating, and murdering his girl friend. That tape, once so damning, cleared Rebecca’s brother. This was their kind of job the boy’s took, because the tape showed Zack’s flash mirror eyes. That meant a shape shifter and that meant silver bullets to the heart.
The hunt went quick. After figuring out the shifter had dropped into the sewer the brothers found piles of sticky, slimy, bloody, shifter skin. For once both agreed that shifter goo was disgusting.
Then the shifter got busy big time. An Asian wife was murdered and her stricken husband stared back at himself feet away from his butchered wife. Sam, Dean and Rebecca found themselves tied up in the monster’s lair, Dean and Rebecca were duplicated so the shifter could play killer games with its look a likes.
Shifter Dean leered at Becky as he pressed his little, sharp blade into Rebecca’s throat only stopped by SWAT who chased Dark Dean into the dark and ended up rescuing Sammy’s damsel in distress. Back and forth the switches occurred. Sammy found himself facing first Rebecca then Dean.
Facing this monstrosity, his own big brother, eager to fight, Sammy saw the green of his brother’s eyes darken instead of gleaming brighter as the brothers joined, close, chin to chin, their panting breath in each other’s mouths. More than fought, battled. Dark Dean mocked that the older brother always won. On the fight went, quick, short blows and blocking forearms followed jabs and connected kicks matched with swift throws. They fling one another across the pool table, crashed down wood chairs. Dean swing a pool stick at Sammy who ducked. In a sudden burst of force Dark Dean flung his Sammy into a book shelf slamming down books and broken shelfs, stunning his brother. Pouncing, dropping to his knees Dark Dean began to strangle the life out his Sammy.
Struggling, fighting, losing every breath, Sammy knew it was true, how alone his brother had become, how he was denied love, deserted by him and John, ignored after submitting to his father’s rules, forced to watch his kid brother ditch him going off chasing his own dreams. It was cutting words that Dark Dean had slammed Sammy with heard tied in the lair with thick, heavy ropes, his brother, covered in some filthy sheet, head bowed, unconscious hidden from view not knowing what was said. News that Dean suffered a darkness this monster found flattering and eager to taste. Shocked, Sam had denied the revelation. This shifter had leeched more than faces, it mucked through private things, too private to be racked over like muck.
Then it happened, his real brother was there, silver bullets smashed into this Dark Dean, killing it. When Sammy found his breathe again he watched his real brother jerk off Dark Dean’s neck the only Christmas gift Dean treasured, the bronze amulet that had came from Sammy’s hand many Christmases ago.
Now the private knowledge between them could be glimpsed at, allowing them to admitted they were freaks and that was alright, they had each other’s back.
How was it to Sammy, that he could not get past his childhood allusions of what kind of person Dean was?
Why had Dean not share his concerns with his brother? Was it because he liked the maturity or he was afraid of his own needs?
How often do real people share their true self with loved ones?
What has to happen before people can be honest with one another?
Written By: Southeast …..