Setting : This story takes place pre season one. Dean is twenty one. Sam is seventeen. Based on the song by Black Sabbath ' Juniors eyes'.
Warnings: Swearing and crude jokes.
Disclaimers: I don't own any supernatural characters and are making no money from this story. Any extra characters are the author's inventions and are not based on any living person. Places and company names are used for reference only. Song belongs to artist credited.
Authors note: Unrelated to any other story I have posted.
Beta: Many thanks to RealFunkyTown for her awesome editing skills. Any mistakes are mine not hers.
Junior's eyes
Chapter 1
John Winchester huffed a sigh as he looked out the side window of the Impala to the old weatherboard house. It was shabby and well back on the block but it had an evil sense about it, to John at least. He turned to his eldest son in the passenger seat. "You know the plan, Dean?"
"Yes, I know the plan Dad. We have been over it ten times already, keep the old woman calm and get the information we need. I still think it's you who's going to be having the problem with that."
John sighed again, wanting to reprimand Dean for questioning his commitment to the hunt, but knowing now was not the time.
Just when did Dean start to give him lip anyway? The last few years had been hard ones on the boys with the training mixed with schoolwork but Dean had just turned twenty one and was well away from the books. But just lately Dean seemed to be using humor as a blanket more times than could count. It seemed to John the more serious the situation the more he made jokes and at first John thought it was to help Sam over some more stressful hunts, but he seemed to be using it all the time of late. He would make a point of talking to Dean about when it was appropriate to use humor. He had already had a huge argument with Sam that morning and didn't feel like doing it again anytime soon.
Sam spoke up from the back seat. "Yeah Dad, try to stay calm in there and avoid pissing her off."
"Well having you in the car should help that." Sam opened his mouth to retaliate but Dean stepped in.
"Come on guys, time and place." He growled. Both John and Sam opened their mouths in surprise as Dean stepped out of the car.
"Sorry Sam. It was wrong of me to say that."
Sam's shock at John's apology showed on his face."You sure you don't want me to come in? I can behave, promise."
"It's okay, Sam. I think Dean had this one right. We need a lookout just in case and you know how protective Dean is of you." Sam nodded.
"Good luck, dad."
"Thanks, Sam."
John slid out of the car and found Dean leaning against a tree with his arms folded.
"You guys finished with your feelings?"
John sighed again and walked past Dean to the house and knocked on the door.
After a few moments a middle aged darker skinned lady came to the door.
"Come in, Mr. Winchester." John stepped through the doorway.
"Hi, I'm Dean. Pleased to meet you, Miss Tramere." Dean held out his hand and the woman shook it slowly getting a good feeling about the young man who had offered his hand when his father hadn't.
She led them to a small, softly lit sitting room and motioned for them to sit on the chairs scattered around the room. Dean sat close to his father, knowing his short temper was likely to get him in trouble no matter how much he promised.
"Thank you for seeing us High Priestess Tramere." John kept his voice low and as soothing as he could. "I know you are very busy but it is imperative we find the lady that is using these spells around town."
"Actually, I go by Mambo Tramere. What spells are we talking about?"
"Does it really matter?"
"Yes, if I know what is being used it will help me narrow down the person who is doing it."John sighed and turned slightly to Dean.
"What are they again?"
"Ah we have two guys that spent all their families money on balloons and candy. One lady gave away everything she owned in the middle of the street. A guy went swimming in the reservoir, no one knows how he got in. Another guy dressed himself in only diapers and claimed he was a baby. We have several people stepping off a curbs with their eyes shut, like they are imagining it's a cliff, the full yelling and pretending they are dead when they fall down. A lady made a shrine dedicated to digital clocks, bought hundreds of 'em. Another lady went to a child care center saying she was four and needed to be there, and my personal favorite, about a dozen people going round making revving noises as they walk along with racing commentary as they pass people in the street." Dean consulted a list they had put together.
She looked at them shrewdly. "These spells don't seem like they are doing much damage. You are hunters aren't you?"
"They don't look like much now but they can escalate pretty quickly if someone wants them to."
"And how do you know this will? It sounds like someone out for some fun to me."
"We just need to be sure that this nut... this person..." John tried hard to push down his anger. "Doesn't get carried away."
"So you intend to find this person and observe?"
"No, warn them off."
"How exactly do you warn people?"
The Mambos eyes were narrowed at John and Dean. Just by looking at her Dean could tell John had not collected a fan.
John found his temper about to break, this woman seemed determined to piss him off. "We just talk to them, that's all."
She still looked through narrowed eyes at John, not trusting him one iota in Dean's book.
"We can make a suggestion, nicely, that they be careful with what they are doing," Dean said softly.
John glared at Dean hoping like hell he was just playing nice, they had no business being 'nice' to witches. She watched as Johns fixed a fake smile on his face and turned back to face her.
"Well there is lots voodoo, hoodoo and mountain magic, around at the moment with the festival going on so it will be hard to pinpoint."
"So after all this you cant tell us who it is?" John's impatience showed through as he frowned at her.
"Easy, Dad," warned Dean.
"Don't easy dad me! She is just jerking us around."
"Just chill okay Dad?"
"Yeah, dad just chill." She mimicked Dean not knowing it was something Sam did that pissed him off.
John felt his control slipping and knew he needed to get out of there soon. "Look can you help or not?" John felt the vein in his forehead starting to pulse.
"I might," she said in measured tones."Can I have another look at the list?"
Dean handed her the paper.
"The general theme seems to be high jinks and fun which could be anyone but there are two age involved tricks which makes me think of someone in particular." She studied the list for a few minutes seeming to turn things over in her mind. "It sounds like a gentleman by the name of Sander Denton. The best time to talk to him would be in the mornings. He's a freelance photographer so he works afternoons and nights all over. He focuses on age spells and has used them on himself with good results."
"Why would he do that?" John was skeptical. It was a guy pulling these spells off? All his research pointed to a female.
She stood and flipped through a small book on the side table. "He wants to be young again like us all."
"Not all of us." Grizzled John, sure now she was setting them up for a joke.
"It might do you good to release the child inside you, Mr. Winchester. You might even like it."
"I seriously doubt that."
She sighed as she sat and wrote the address down and handed the paper back to Dean.
"You're sure it's a guy?" Pressed John.
"Yes, I'm sure. He is about sixty now but looks like you, Dean. So you can see he knows his spells."
"Where did he learn his spells from?" Dean asked.
"Well, magic and witchcraft run in his family. He came to me to help hone what god given talent he had."
John could feel the vein in his temple throb with restrained anger. God given talent, his ass. People believing it was handed down through the family and they had every right to use it. "So you taught him the age spells?"
"I showed him the books I use and, as I said, taught him to hone his talents, though I never specifically taught him any one spell."
"Why is that?" Dean spoke up.
John was sure he saw a look on Dean's face that he got when he wanted to learn more.
"I never teach my students any one particular spell because they are all interpreted differently by the individual user. Each person puts their own twist or flavor to it."
"What gives it the different twist?"
John looked at Dean in disbelief as he conversed with the woman like they were at a tea party.
She seemed to sense John holding onto his temper and gave him a quick glare before turning back to Dean. "The power they have within, sweetie. That makes the spell what it is."
John was clenching his fists as the woman had the hide to call his son 'sweetie'.
"For instance," she continued, "if I was to put a spell on your father it would have different results than if you did it."
"Because I'm not a witch or a voodoo?"
"No sweetie, you don't have to be a witch to have powers. You have plenty of powers, you are just untrained."
Dean's eyebrows raised at having someone say he had plenty of powers. He opened his mouth to ask how she knew when John stepped in.
"Okay Dean, that's enough running your mouth. We have bothered this poor woman enough. Thank you for your help. Come on, Dean." John rose and headed for the door without another word.
Dean stood and shook Mambo Tramere's hand."We really appreciate your help. Thank you very much. I promise we will try to talk to Sander without freaking him out."
"Good luck with that." Her eyes landed on John's back and Dean had a feeling she was talking about more than just this hunt.
"Thanks again." Dean waved as he followed his dad.
Dean found his dad fumbling with the latches to the front door. It seemed that she had locked the latches after they had come in and now John was having to open them all to get out. As John finally unlatched the last lock, Mambo appeared to the right of John in the hallway. Dean's reflexes jumped in even though he liked the woman, he was always alert for trouble, being a hunter. As Dean stepped behind his dad's back he heard some muttered words he couldn't make out. He went to turn to ask her what she meant when a thick wind blew him forward and he stumbled into John's back.
John's bulk buffered most of Dean's fall and he turned and gave Dean a glare. "Careful on your feet there, clumsy."
Dean looked back into the darkness of the house but couldn't see anyone at all. They made it back to the car although Dean kept looking back at the house over his shoulder. They climbed in and John drove them to Sander's house even though the Mambo had told them he wouldn't be home until the morning. John picked the lock and Dean kept watch while he looked around inside.
When they were back in the car and heading back to the motel John finally spoke, "So it looks like she was right. He has some sort of altar and spells written down and taped to a wall but no spell books at all. We can come back in the morning and 'talk' to him."
Sam noticed the way John had spoken and knew something had happened in the Mambo's house as he had expected. Even though they hadn't talked between her house and Sanders house Sam had picked up the tension between them and his dad's barley contained anger. He sighed and leaned back on the seat, predicting a long and hostile night between his dad and brother. He was not looking forward to it. When they arrived back at the motel, John sent Dean out for burgers indicating John wanted some space from his son.
As Dean stood in the store and waited for his order to be cooked he started to feel nauseous and a headache kicked in. It was a dull throbbing pain in the back of his head, making him scrunch his brow. The food was finally ready and he headed back to the motel. By the time he got there his headache had crawled around to his ears and was beginning to feel more hostile. He went to the trunk and slipped the smallest first aid kit into his pocket. He entered the room and dropped the bag on the table in front of Sam as John came out of the bathroom.
John headed for the table and Dean moved into the bathroom and shut the door behind him. "I'm not saving you anything, Dean. You better hurry up."
"Yeah, Yeah." Dean knew his food was fair game to Sam while he was growing so much, but he really didn't care for once. He took some pain killers and left the kit in the bathroom under a towel.
When he went out into the other room there was a burger and fries sitting waiting for him at the table despite Sam's threat. "Another minute, Dean and they would have been mine."
"Sure, Sammy." Dean sat and ate almost half his burger before he felt to sick to eat. He pushed his fries over to Sam without a word.
Sam looked up in surprise."You okay, Dean?"
Dean nodded and got up and threw the rest of his burger out in the trash. Sam noticed him throw out the rest of his food and he frowned in concern.
"Dean, you want to go to a bar and play some pool? We could use some cash before we get going tomorrow." John hadn't seen Dean throw out his food.
Dean had gone over and sat on one of the beds, shutting his eyes."Can I go in the morning?"
John frowned as he looked over at Dean. Normally he would be jumping over hurdles to go to a bar. "You okay, Dean?"
"Yes sir. It's just a headache."
"Okay, well, I'll go but save me a bed. I won't be in late."
"Yes sir."
They knew that meant he and Sam would be left to fight it out over the other bed and the cot. He wasn't really in the mood to tussle over a bed as his headache had now come around to his temples making them throb. John slammed the door behind him and Dean stood and went to the bathroom and washed up for bed.
When he came out Sam was sitting against one of the bed heads, so he dragged the cot out without a word, sliding his boots, jeans and socks off and got under the covers tiredly. He curled up so he could fit without hanging over the sides too much. Sam looked over with concern as his brother climbed under the covers. It was extremely rare for Dean not to put up a fight over sleeping in the small cot.
"Dean are you okay?"
"Yeah, Sammy, I'm fine," Dean mumbled.
"You sure, Dean? Because you can have..." Sam didn't finish his sentence because Dean scrambled out of the cot and ran for the bathroom door.
Dean threw up his meager attempt at dinner and dry reached until his headache was the full 360 of his skull. When he had cleaned up and crawled back into the cot Sam came over with a first aid kit. He put a hand to Dean's forehead making Dean feel like he was the younger brother for a second.
"Hands off Sammy, I'm okay."
"No, you're not, Dean. You're burning up. Let me do this for once."
Dean opened his mouth to tell Sam to back off but a thermometer was shoved in there.
Sam pushed Dean down on the cot and sat with him until the device beeped. "Well you have a fever 103.5 that's pretty high. Have you taken something?"
"Yeah, but I'm guessing it's in the toilet now."
Sam gave Dean more tablets and a glass of water.
"Thanks Sammy."
Sam eyed Dean critically.
"Do you wanna sleep in the bed? Since you're sick and all."
"I'm okay here. It's closer to the bathroom," he joked softly.
"Get some rest."
"Yes, dad."
Dean was happy to close his eyes and let his body succumb quickly to sleep, hoping the headache would be gone when he woke. Sam studied his brother's sleeping face. He didn't like it when Dean was sick. He was the glue that held the family together and Sam really needed his brother for that now. Since he had told his dad he was planning to go away to university when he finished high school they were at each other's throats constantly. If the argument he had with his father that morning was anything to go by he was in for a tough time.
Dean woke four hours later feeling very hot and struggled out of the covers and fell the short distance to the floor. He saw that both beds were now occupied meaning his dad had returned while he was asleep. The motel room felt too hot for him so he swallowed down more painkillers and stepped out of the room for a few minutes. The cold air outside instantly made him feel cooler but his headache come more to the front of his head. He stared up at the stars, thinking about the 'conversation' between Sam and John that morning.
A rustle behind him as the door opened made him turn slightly. "Dude, you do know you are dressed in your underwear, don't you?"
"No one is going to care Sammy. Go back to bed." Dean's voice was rough and sharp.
"You okay?" Sam reached up to Dean's brow. "You're all hot again."
"I just took tablets. I'll be okay. I'm just cooling down a bit then I'll be back in bed."
"Okay. Hey Dean, thanks for talking to dad with me about school. I know it might not happen but I want him to let me go if I decide I want to."
Dean sighed mentally. It had been more of an argument than a talk, and Dean knew the fact that Sam had wanted to talk about it in the first place meant Sam was already sold on the idea. He just had to work out the means.
"No problems, Sammy. You're my brother and I'm here for you for anything, you know that." Dean had to work hard to keep the bitterness from his voice. He hated the idea of Sam just skipping out on them but he had been seeing it coming for some time and was still trying to accept it. He doubted he ever would.
He had promised Sam when he went on his first hunt he would always have his back, but if Sam left that wouldn't be possible. Dean was upset and conflicted but as far as he could tell Sam didn't have a problem with it. His main concern seemed to getting as far away from their dad as he could. Meaning as far away from Dean as well. Sam missed Dean's sad face and the tears in his eyes in the dark and clapped his brother on the shoulder.
"Sleep well, Dean. I hope you feel better in the morning."
"Me too. Thanks, Sammy."
When he had cooled down, Dean slipped back into the room and into bed, pleased his brother and father were fast asleep. Despite his headache Dean was soon snuggled under the covers and fast asleep.
'Junior's eyes looked up to the skies in tears,
He prayed that his maker, the giver and taker, would hear.'
Juniors eyes, Black Sabbath.
TBC
