Chapter 26

Brooklyn

Dean followed the address to Prosperity, Indiana, landing us at a beautiful blue, two story house. The three of us headed inside, guns drawn and ready to shoot whatever we saw that wasn't human.

None of the lights worked, making the situation even more nerve racking. We didn't have to do our usual sweep of the house, finding what Crowley was getting at in the kitchen. A women was laying, head first, in the oven. Her entire body was burnt to a crisp, making a gasp leave my lips.

"Is that... Jenny?" Sam asked, just as shocked as I was.

"You were a great gal, Jenny Klein," Dean said, letting out a sigh as he leaned against the island of the kitchen.

As if on command, Sam's phone rings again. "What the hell are you doing, Crowley?" Sam half-yelled into the phone.

"Oh, Moosie, isn't it obvious? I'm killing everyone you've ever saved – the damsels in distress, the innocent whippersnappers, the would-be vampire chow – all of them."

Dean shook his head, looking at the phone, "How do you even know –"

"I have my sources and a cracking research team," Crowley said with a chuckle. Dean's eyes moved to me, both of us looking at each other as Crowley talked. Both of us seeming to need a distraction. "When you boys hit a town, you tend to leave a mess. Now, you're probably wondering why my dogs aren't in there giving you the bum's rush, so let's brass these tacks, shall we? I'm gonna gut one person every 12 hours until you bring me the Demon Tablet and stop this whole trials nonsense."

Though this whole thing was gestured towards Dean and Sam, I defiantly felt some of his words stab at my side.

"We don't have the tablet. Kevin took it and –" I started but was cut off by Crowley again.

"I took Kevin. Then someone took him back. Word from the cloud is that it wasn't Heaven. So either the cutest little Prophet in the world is with you three kids, or you better find him tout-bloody-suite because time, she is a-wasting. About now, you're thinking of ways to stop me. You won't be able to, but you'll try because that's what you do. You... you try. So, time for an object lesson. Indianapolis, the Ivy Motel, room 116. You have 57 minutes."

The phone beeps, cuing that Crowley has hung up.

Sam, Dean, and I all look at each other, no one needing to say a word to know what we do next.

Indianapolis, here we come.

Dean

The Ivy Motel reminded me of the many hotels that Sam and I went too, now bringing in Brooklyn. It was a small building, holding only two stories of rooms. Finding room 116 was easy, once we got to the second floor.

Sam, Brooke, and I headed up to the room, finding the door locked. I lightly pushed Brooke back, away from the door before kicking it in.

We expected to find a decorated room or even some people sitting on a couch watching TV. We didn't find either of those things, instead we found an empty room.

Confusion filled us as the door closed behind us. I flipped on the lights, revealing the living room and small kitchen. Sam went into the bedroom, hoping to find something only to find nothing as well.

What the hell was going on?

Sam's phone rang again, causing him to pull it out and answer it, "Crowley."

"Five... Four... Trios... Zwei..." Crowley started, making Sam, Brooke, and I look around beyond confused. "...Uno," Crowley finished.

Suddenly, Brooke dropped her gun her hands reaching up to her throat as she gasped. In seconds, I dropped my own gun, grabbing onto Brooke as she stumbled back into me.

Panic filled me as I looked at Brooke, "Brooke! Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey! Can you hear me? Brooke? Brooklyn!" I yelled as she continued to gasp for breath in my arms.

I fell to my knees, laying a gasping Brooke on the floor. Crowley's voice came through, my ears only picking it up in hopes of finding answers. "She's dying, and there's nothing you can do about it."

"You son of a bitch!" I yelled, trying to help Brooke breath.

"Son of a witch, actually. My mommy taught me a few tricks," Crowley said, causing me to look at Sam. Panic in my voice, I said, "It's a spell. Find the hex bag."

My eyes wanted to stay on Brooke who was still gasping, but Sam and I both had to look for the bag in order to save her.

Crowley continued talking. "I thought of sending in a few of my bruisers, really letting them go to town. But then, well, trial one was kill a Hellhound. Trial two was rescue a soul from the pit. So, from here on, I'm gonna keep everything hell-related – demons, et cetera – away from you. Safe side and all that – plus, I just thought it seemed fitting. The way Dean takes Brooke's breath away and all. What's the line? "Saving people, hunting things – the family business." Well, I think the people you save, they're how you justify your pathetic little lives. The alcoholism, the collateral damage, the pain you've caused – the one thing that allows you to sleep at night, the one thing is knowing that these folks are out there, still out there happy and healthy because of you, you great, big, bloody heroes!"

Tears threaten my eyes as Sam continues to throw stuff around in hopes of finding the bag. I stop and look over at Brooke who has now rolled over and is coughing up blood, still gasping.

I quickly rush back over to Brooke, kneeling by her and turning her back over. "Hey! Hey! Hey! You're gonna be okay." Though those words left my lips, I wasn't sure who I was convincing more, me or her.

"Brooke? She's Dean's ultimate saving, pulling her right out of hell to walk on Earth. What was it Brooke? Family is everything? Well, it seems this family just sent you right back to the burning place of Hell."

My heart is breaking, my own lungs seeming to loose it's strength. Any words that do come out, come out in a struggle and whisper as my tears release, "No. No, no, no. No. No, please, no."

Brooke grabs ahold of my jacket, squeezing it tightly as her eyes meet mine. I see the fear and feel it myself. She gasps one last time, it leaving her slowly as her hand releases my jacket and falls next to her.

Sam stops searching and looks over at us, his mouth dropping in shock. I shake my head, the tears leaving me as Crowley continues to talk.

"People like Brooklyn, they're your life's work, and I'm going to rip it apart piece by piece because I can, because you can't stop me, and because when they're all gone, what will you have left? You want to keep those people alive? I want complete and utter surrender. The tablet, the trials – you'll give them up, or we'll keep doing this dance. Your choice, my darlings."

The phone beeps, ending the call.

Something pulls me towards Brooke's pocket, making me lift her lifeless body into my lap. I reach in her jacket pocket, pulling out a small hex bag. Somehow, it had gotten in there. It was the perfect place, the one place we wouldn't think to check.

Anywhere we went, she would have died.

Don't hate me, please! I'm sorry this is such a short chapter but I didn't really want to continue it in this chapter. I decided to end this 1st book here since it's more of a cliff hanger for you guys.

I'd like to do a 2nd book finishing up Season 8 and doing Season 9. Or should Dean Winchester and Brooklyn Myers' story end here?

Let me know in the comments! Also, if anyone ever wants to make a cover or fan art, just let me know :)