Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or any characters therein.

Carry on Wayward Son

Chapter 1

John waited patiently for dean to return to get in the car. Damn, if that kid could waste more time to get anything done he would. As his thoughts began to wander Dean had already gotten in the truck again with a rather impish grin plastered on his face. John gave him and incriminating look,

"Well?"

"Two numbers from those two blondes and a free drink, oh yeah!", Dean replied all blue eyes and toothy grin.

"Dean.."

"Oh, almost forgot."

Dean tossed a brown paper bag into his father's lap. Making sure his son got everything, John checked all the herbs and charms twice over. Oh yeah, Dean got them at a strip joint...John had friends in not exactly low places, but more like odd places.

"So where we headed with all the hoodoo junk."

" A town in Maine."

"What's there?."

"...Ellen said there were some disturbances going on there, they could be related to the demon."

The mirth in Dean was immediately replaced by seriousness. Dean could never joke about times when they thought they were getting close. The demon had taken everything, his mom, home, his baby brother. Sammy. When the very rare times popped up about Sam, Dean's father never referred to Sam in the past tense. He didn't know if he thought Sammy was alive, or if he had just been in denial for all these years.

Dean still remembered the flames, the screaming. Everything was burning, suddenly Dean felt the stab of hatred in his stomach, it turned everything to flames, even his father's fucking car! He pushed the feeling back into the dark place it had come from and instead listened to the quiet that begin to settle in the truck.

John put the keys in the ignition, still not saying anything, and begin to drive toward their destination.

Sam had been living with his adopted father since he was thirteen, after the mysterious death of his foster parents in a house fire, the dark man came into his life, and he adopted him indefinitely. The man cared for him. The man truly did, as if he were his own son. To his foster father, Sam was in a way his son. But even though this was true, Sam was afraid of him. The sort of fear that cloud be forgotten. Most of the time Sam did forget, but the yellow glint in his eyes Sam saw when he wasn't really paying attention reminded Sam of the fear. He often wondered why he would fear the man that gave him so much even with the whole funky eye thing; private schooling, early acceptance to Stanford, the huge house he lived in, right down to his car. His father loved him, so did his sister, and he couldn't help but love them in return.

They taught him about the...darker aspects of the world. They taught him how to defend against those dark things, along with algebra in school he was taught demonology at home...and more importantly to kill anything and everything that threatened his life. It was stressed, however, never go out of your way to kill something, only if it was threatening you.

Sam's sister, Meg, was also his best friend and helped him with everything regarded to the training. But Sam had been away from home for two years, he had made a lot of phone calls but never really went back, this was different though. Sam's longtime girlfriend had died... in a fire. He was broken, he hadn't gotten real sleep in almost a week. Because he knew it would happen, he dreamt it, and he did nothing.

He had to go home, with this thought he sped up a little, a black 67 chevy impala on black road.

Rain thumped, thumped on the roof of the huge ford truck. John and Dean had reached the rather stereotypical New England town of Ebony Hills 'bout a half hour ago. And Dean was left waiting outside, in the truck, while it was raining...developing a slight cold...ugh. John was inside the courthouse building, talking to another of his contacts if not friend. Thump, thump,thump. If Dean wasn't nursing his predetermined cold, he would have realized that was his dad that had thumped at the window and not the rain. A wet and annoyed John looked very similar to a wet dog, a dark-haired sheep-dog maybe. Dean, of course kept, these thoughts to himself. So he quickly unlocked the door and moved over as to not get wet.

"So what'd ya find out?" Dean asked cautiously,

"..."

"Dad! tell me now!"

John's throat scratched out: "They say he's here."

John's eyes were haunted, glazed over like he was spacing out.

"He? The demon?"

John nodded, then opened his mouth as to say something more but decided against it.

"Okay, is it okay with you if I drive?"

Dean asked in a way that made it sound like he thought his father could drive, but in his mind he asked because he knew John wouldn't let him if he asked him if John wanted Dean to drive. Dean gently pushed John out of the drivers seat into the passengers, and got wet all the while, his cold seemingly forgotten.

"Do we have a particular address, or something could make this a little easier?" Dean asked.

John slowly coming out of his stupor replied dryly,

"109 Anchor drive, the Cornell Estate."

"Estate? Since when do demons live in houses?"

John gazed out the window "When they're trying to keep something.", he said to himself under his breath.

Dean caught the words but let it drop, for now.

"SAM! You're home!" Yelled Meg as she raced forward for a hug.

Meg had never, has far as Sam knew left the city. It was one of those things that he always wondered about but never really brought up. He hadn't even fully gotten out of the car yet before she attacked him with her bubbly-ness, Sam returned the hug Meg was giving just as warmly. Then She held his face in her hands, sea blue and moss green eyes facing each other, Sam was a good-looking guy, beautiful actually but right now he looked awful.

"Sam, what's wrong?"

God, he hasn't even cried yet, he felt guilty as hell, but he couldn't cry? What was wrong with him? So instead of crying like a normal human being would do, he just lowered his head out of her sight.

"It's Jess, isn't it?"

How did she always know things like this, how did she always know everything that went bad with him? He nodded and she gave him another hug,

"I'm so sorry Sammy ,I'm so sorry."

"I have to talk to Dad."

Again her yes had a knowing look,

" Of course, but he won't be back until later tonight, how long we're you going to stay?"

"Awhile, I haven't really thought about it."

"I'll tell Malakai to get your old room ready, kay."

"Thank you Meg."

"Anytime, now we need to do something about this hair,", she said running her fingers through it, "it makes you look like a girl."

"Shut up, your hair makes you look like a freak'n dude!"

A light punch to his arm, and Sam smiled, which in these days was a rare sight. Instead of walking in the house with meg he turned back to his car.

"Where are you going now?"

"Coffee."

"You should be sleeping."

"Coffee." he said again stubbornly.

Meg just shook her head a disappeared into the huge oak door that was the entrance to their home.

Sam climbed back into the car, he can't believe this place hadn't changed at all. It was only two years yeah, but he had expected stuff to be different. The Cornell estate, could be intimidating to others outside. It was a mansion for lack of a better word, Surrounding was a lot of land, a lot meant that Sam had no idea how much land but a lot sounded right since he was the one that had to do twelve laps every morning before he went to school. Boxing in all of the land was a high fence, most was engulfed by overgrown thorn bushes and ivy. There were many trees on the grounds, they made the place seem even more secluded. But to Sam this was his home.

Sam looked worriedly at the clouds that threaten rain soon, he better get that coffee now.

Dean rolled into a motel parking lot, this particular motel freaked out a bit. Why? Well, it was nice. Dean wasn't used to staying at "nice" places anywhere, which would've sounded horrible if Dean wasn't so used to it.

John paid for the room, he rented it out for a couple weeks. The extra time would allow them to research for themselves, which in any situation was mandatory. Dean unloaded everything, it was early morning so he contemplated sleeping or just skip the sleep and head to a diner. John, after setting everything up in their room, made the decision for them by getting back in the truck, and gave Dean his patented 'come the hell on, you damned kid' look. Sleep was apparently over-rated.

John looked down the street and th wet leafy trees, all in all this was a pretty nice place, he would have like to live here if things were...different. But things are not different, and reality is demons, blood, and a never ending search for someone that might not even exist, no, he can't think that way. Sam's alive, he knew it.