Time: Night time.
Place: highway to not there.
Who: Winchester snr, 2 x Winchester jnr
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"One more word. Out of either of you." John snarled, eyes not leaving the road. "You walk"
"Yes sir" the two voices piped up from the back seat.
Whispering "Three bags full sir. Suck up" to Dean.
Dean whacked his brother's arm with the back of his hand. Grinning, just before he got a kick in the shin. Sammy never could have reached, even a year ago.
The car stopped. Both boys were thrown into the seat in front. Dean automatically reached for his knife, while Sam took extra seconds to extract himself from the floor.
"Get out" their Dad didn't even look at them.
"He started it" Sam whined
"I didn't ask who started it. Get out" the order in the tone invited no arguments.
"But..." Sam argued any way.
"I'm counting to three. If you are still in this car at three, there will be a death in the family"
"I need new shoes. I can't go to Sammy's funeral in these." Dean stuck his foot under Sam's nose.
Sam took a big swipe at his brother's leg and rolled his eyes. "I'm not inviting you to my funeral." Dean moved before Sam made contact with him
A knife for one, a gun for the other and shoes, coats, money. Out separate doors and they had barely closed before the car took off. Watching as the tail lights disappeared off into the gloomy darkness.
"I hate it when he does this" Dean sighed.
"If we had a home, or friends we could call, then it wouldn't matter" Sam stormed off down the side of the road.
"Sammy" Dean called after him.
"If he didn't want us with him, he could just leave us somewhere" he waved his hands in the air.
"Sammy" walking a step behind.
"He could visit us and…" Sam stepped in some road kill, he cursed under his breath.
"You might want to listen to me. Dude. What I was going to say was, you might want to take a step to the right" Dean laughed as Sam wiped his foot on a clump of plants. "And Dad would never leave us. He wants us to be safe. We are safest with him. We are safe together. It's safer."
"He has left us Dean. We are out here, in the dark, alone"
"Training" he shrugged, patted his pockets. "Gum?" he offered his brother a stick.
"Dark. Alone. Middle of no where Dean" Sam stomped off down the road.
They walked in silence for about a mile.
The lights of the small truck stop came out of the darkness. Without thinking both boys had assessed the area for an escape route and possible dangers. Then gone straight to the diner.
Safety. Food. Shelter.
That order had been drilled into them. They understood their surroundings here better than any other. Many years on the road had brought them to places like this before.
Sam climbed into the booth. His bag beside him. Dean sat opposite and pushed his bag into the back of the bench.
He shook his head at Sam. "How do you think you'll get past that bag, if a werewolf jumped the partition?" he pointed at the window.
"The same way you would. Hide under the table, then slide under the bench to the next booth." Sam picked up the menu, looking at the pricelist. "Then realise, that there is no full moon and we just ran away from a hairy biker" He pulled out a crumpled pile of notes and some coins.
Dean looked embarrassed. He looked out the window to the moonless night. He cursed under his breath.
A waitress came from the kitchen, round the end of the long counter, towards the rows of booths. A faint country song played monotonously in the background.
"You boys doing ok?" she asked.
Sam yawned and looked immediately sleepy and innocent.
Dean turned on a full wattage smile and skilfully weaved a tale of their Dad being with the tow truck and there only being room in the cab for two.
"Dad said he wouldn't be long. We should get some of your famous pie and wait for him, ma'am" Dean pulled no punches in the finely tuned story. They had used it every other town until Dean looked old enough to be out on his own. Today, however it would get him free coffee and Sam pie.
People believe Sam's silences quicker than Dean's stories. She looked at the skinny kid and at the pile of change he had pulled out of his pocket. Enough for a piece of pie and a soft drink. She winked at them, pushed the pile of change back at Sam. "I'll get you and your brother some pie"
"One piece is fine ma'am" Sam pushed the money back across the table.
Seeing the determination on his face she took three dollars and left him the coins. "Special tonight. Two for one."
"Coffee included?" Dean chanced his luck.
"Coffee and Dr Pepper. Free re-fills" she favoured the boys with a genuine smile. Sam yawned again, rubbed his eyes. "Thank you ma'am"
When the waitress was out of sight,Dean rolled his eyes, "Sleepy child?" he said disbelieving what he had just seen. "Thought you left that one couple years back"
"Bite me!" Sam shook his hair forwards over his eyes and put his head on the table.
"Oh. Sulky teen. Great" Dean got up.
Sam grunted something.
At the counter he sat on a stool. He switched off the charm routine. He nodded to the waitress and picked up the tray with the food.
"I'll take it over. Your feet must be killing you. Plus the teenage yeti just switched from nice to grump." He gave her the 'kids. What can you do?' look.
"Got one of my own at home. Spends the time she ain't on the phone moping in her room."
He turned and looked at his little brother. Sammy didn't have a room to mope in and since the last town, the last call he had made was to the morgue. Dean felt his mask slip a little. He fixed it back on and turned a weary smile to the woman. "Tell me about it. Thanks for the pie Ma'am"
"You're welcome" she smiled and went back to the kitchen. No doubt to do one of the million things she had to do before dawn.
Always things to do in the dark. Dean got that.
"Pie" he announced. Pushing the bigger slice towards Sam. It was their shorthand for 'I'm sorry'.
Sam looked up. "Yeah. Me too."
Into the third refill and second hour the inevitable happened. Sam got out from the bench. "Going to the Head"
Dean looked round the diner. The hunter group at the window didn't look like they would mind if a guy took his brother to the bathroom. Sam, on the other hand, would call it being babied. Or annoying.
"Don't forget to wash your hands" Dean finished his coffee.
Sam rolled his eyes.
Dean went to the payphone at the counter. Putting a couple of coins in the slot he punched in the code for free calls he had got from Caleb. He followed it with his Dad's number. Pick up the phone!" he instructed his Dad in a whisper. "It's the green button" and the fiftieth time I've told you, he thought silently. His Dad dismantled an engine and put it back together. He had yet to see him remember to answer the cell phone.
John opened his jacket. Hand still on the wheel, he automatically turned in his seat and started to hand the phone back. With two fingers, like it would explode.
"Damn it" he swore. Forgetting he had left the boys and their bickering in the rear-view mirror. He looked at the display. Caller Unknown.
"Green button." Puzzled and angry he glared at the cheery singing thing.
"Green button" He glanced down from the road at the flashing box.
It had stopped making noise. Too late to make out the answer button in the dark. He threw the contraption into the passenger seat.
"Damn it"
The black Impala did an illegal u-turn on the empty highway. Heading back to the truck stop diner it had passed earlier.
"Damn it" Sam swore.
"What no toilet paper?" Dean looked up from the salt container he was emptying on the table.
"No, dude, you gotta do that? I think I'm allergic to the soap, you'll get us thrown out." Sam slid back into the booth.
"Yeah I gotta do it. Bored" increasing the flow of salt, he drew an extending spiral on the table.
Dean sneaked a look at his brother's massive paw like hands. "Let me see" Sam held his hands out and turned them over. There were red scratches on the back of his hands.
"You'll live"
"If you are so bored, start counting the stars." Sam snatched his hands back. Hiding them under the table like not seeing them would make them itch less.
Dean chuckled at the memory. It had been a game to keep Sammy, from asking if they were there yet, every ten seconds. It was only when Sam had learned the names from a book he found that Dean stopped looking out the window. There were better things to count. Ammo, socks, charms, holy water, twinkies, kills. Dollars won on the pool table. Those were especially fun to count.
Sam recognised the look on his brother's face. He was thinking back to "the good old days" he hated that. Dean grabbed his leg and spat out "What the…?" Seeing the waitress nearby he changed his intended word "heck!" rubbing his shin.
"Stay in the now Dean. Last time you had that look you told Mary-Lou Rebeki about how cute I was potty training" Sam shuddered at the memory.
"You should have seen your face!" Dean got up. "If you haven't broken my leg too bad, I'm going to use the restroom." He was half way across the floor before he turned round and loudly said "You were Sammy."
"What?"
"Cute"
"Jerk!"
"Cutie pie!"
"Cut it out Dean!"
"Ok sweetie!"
"Dean!"
Pulling into the car lot, he looked for signs his boys were at this place. No cop cars, no skid marks, missing trucks. Usual signs his older son had been here. Sammy didn't leave any signs. He was a ghost, just passing through.
"Diner or a bar first?" John realised, as he took a coin from his pocket, that talking to yourself was the first sign of madness. Tossing it up and looking down as it hit the floor unseen. "Diner" his stomach agreed.
There had been no stops other than for gas since early the morning before.
Perhaps why things had been so volatile.
An army marches, or drives, with its stomach.
Sam idly picked up the salt and started making pattern on the table. Protection symbols he had learned. Some of the other stuff Dean had done was sort of like them. Dean was just a sucky artist.
Finishing the container, he went to the edge of the booth and grabbed another from a nearby table.
As he returned to his seat, his Dad sat opposite. "Hey kiddo" he moved Dean's coffee away from him and dusted some of the salt from the table. He put both hands on the table. Empty. Sam clicked on the safety catches on his weapon. Setting it beside him on the bench, out of sight. He sat up straighter. Uncomfortable. Not sure what to expect. He avoided meeting his father's eyes. Finding a spot in the distance.
"You eat?"
"Pie"
"Any good?"
"Famous"
"Guess I'll try a piece" he waved to the waitress. Raising his voice so she didn't have to leave the counter. "Pie please ma'am"
"Sure hon. Coffee?" She called back.
"Please"
Sam sat there. He just didn't get what was going on in his son's head. Proud of his reaction. The gun had been the first thought. Waiting for the teenage rebellion to take over from the years of precision training.
"You left us" Sammy stated.
There is was. John sighed.
They sat for two minutes. In silence. Not know what to say. Even how to say it.
John picked up the salt and tipped it up. He was going to show Sammy a new glyph. Repeller of evil spirits. The lid came off and a small mountain of salt landed on the table. Sam looked at it for a long moment. Then, they both laughed. Tension broken by the noise. Just a father and son sitting in a diner eating pie. Or about to. John reached over to another table. Two salt sellers in one hand. He tipped up the first one. The lid came off. John didn't stop to laugh at it this time. He quickly upended the last one. The same thing.
Licking his finger he stuck it in the granules. Licking it again, "Sugar" his humour drained from his face.
"What is it Dad?"
"Where's Dean?"
"Restroom"
John put his knuckles on the side of Dean's mug. Half full and tepid.
"How long?"
"I would have looked at my watch and timed it. But my watch was in the car when it drove off"
"Sammy. I don't have time for your hormones. How long has your brother been gone?" John's tone invited no more backchat.
"A little while I guess"
"Guess better" He snapped at Sam.
"About ten minutes, Sir" Sam picked up on his Dad's concern. "Why? Is there something here?"
"There are signs of mischief, not caused by you two. Sugar in the salt. Lids off." His eyes scanned the room for more. "Chewing gum on the roof"
"Itching powder on the soap" Sam glanced towards the restroom doors. Hoping Dean would be walking towards out of them.