Silence was strange. Sometimes it was eerie and menacing, something so big and unavoidable that it overwhelmed people. Other times it was comforting; a big, warm blanket of emptiness. Sam Winchester enjoyed silence. He would lay awake until four, sometimes five in the morning just enjoying the silent house.
This morning was no different. Sam lay haphazardly on the bed, the sheets barely even covering him. He had one leg hanging off the side of the king size mattress and it barely grazed the floor. The white sheet was bunched up and wrapped around his muscled chest. He turned his head to look at the blonde woman that lay beside him. She was bundled up under two or three blankets. She was always cold, and the couple continuously argued over trivial stuff like the level of air conditioning or whether they turn on the ceiling fan. Sam looked back over to his bedside table where he had been having a staring contest with his alarm clock. It read 3:51, two hours before he was to wake up. He knew he needed to get some sleep but he couldn't force himself to close his eyes. Therefor he stared at the clock, daring another minute to tick by, another point off his important job interview tomorrow. His eyes were finally closing when he heard a noise from downstairs.
When you lay awake in a house for long periods of time, you learn the routine; when the water heaters switch on and off, when a neighbors car starts up, you memorize the silence. As soon as a single noise was out of place, Sam would know. And there were lots of noises out of place. Firstly, there would be no car noises until precisely 5:45 when old man Barkley left in his beat up old mustang. There would be no one walking outside until 6:38, when Andrew and Mark came to carpool with him to their first classes. And there most certainly would be no one coming in the front door. Ever. Even Mark and Andrew knocked, and Sam had known them for years. So when he heard a rattling noise and their old front door creak open, Sam Winchester was on high alert.
For a moment he considered going downstairs by himself. He would fight off the intruder without putting Jessica in harms way. But a million situations flashed by where the intruder's accomplice murdered Jessica in her sleep. So he decided against that. He reached over and put a large hand on his girlfriends shoulder and shook gently.
"Jess," he whispered, loud enough to wake her but not loud enough for the intruder to hear them. "Honey there's someone downstairs. We need to go see who it is." She sucked in a deep breath and rubbed her eyes.
"Who's downstairs?" She murmured.
"I don't know, but we need to go see who it is." He stood up and walked around the other side of the bed to help her up too. He grabbed her small hand and noticed the freshly painted nails. Jessica hated getting a manicure and he made note to ask her about it later. They walked down the staircase hand in hand, Jessica staying slightly behind, shielding herself with Sam's large frame. He murmured reassurance to her all the way downstairs. He knew how her mind could get to her sometimes; make her believe things were so much worse than they really are.
They slowly turned the corner into their tiny kitchen and were met with a large shadowed figure hunched over their fridge. Sam heard Jessica's breathing start to quicken and he squeezed her hand to remind her that he was there. The figure stood up straight, noting their presence. He closed the fridge door as Sam flicked the light switch on the wall. As the light flooded the room Sam staggered back. He couldn't believe it- he didn't want to believe it.
The man he was looking at had a tall, muscular build, his dark green army jacket hanging casually over his toned arms and chest. His hair stuck up just the way he remembered, a few shades lighter than his own. It was styled up into a faux hawk, something Sam had figured he did in the shower that morning. It was a habit he picked up as a little kid and never had the maturity - or time - to grow out of. The way he stood was the same, his presence filling up the room. He was grinning, full of sarcasm and wit. His green eyes flashed.
"What's the matter Sam? Speechless? That's a first." Dean Winchester chuckled and grinned that sideways grin Sam didn't realize he had missed. He had to keep it together. He hadn't exactly left on good terms and he was sure Dean hadn't missed his brother the way Sam had missed him.
"What are you doing here? How did you find me?" Sam motioned for Jessica to go upstairs; he didn't want her involved. She stood her ground though, always the stubborn one.
"You really doubted my abilities to find you Sammy? And actually I was hoping for a beer," he turned back to the fridge. Sam rolled his eyes.
"What do you really want Dean? I told you I'm not doing this anymore,"
"Sam what's going on? Who is this? Is this illegal? Because you really shouldn't be-" Jess rambled on nervously until Sam shushed her.
"Jess everything's fine. This is my brother, Dean. We used to be in business together, before I quit to go to college. We were..." He hesitated for a moment, not sure whether to tell her the whole truth.
"Mechanics. We're mechanics," Dean covered smoothly. "It's a family thing."
"Yeah," Sam put in. "And I left because I wanted something better." He looked pointedly at his brother and motioned toward the door. "Now if that's all you need, then you can either leave now, or you're welcome to camp out on the couch for a night. I have an important interview and-"
"Sammy, Dad's gone. He went out on a hunting trip and hasn't been back for a few days,"
"A hunting trip? What are you talking about? Sam you're not going anywhere until I get answers," Sam turned around and gave his full attention to Jessica.
"Don't worry Jess, I'm not going anywhere. Dean can stick his hunting bullcrap up his ass cause I quit that life when I went to college. Now could you please go upstairs while I sort this out?" Jess nodded meekly and gave Sam a quick kiss before walking up the stairs to the bedroom. When Sam turned back around he was greeted with not only his brother, but two other familiar faces as well. The left newcomer was taller then the other, although she was still a head shorter than Dean. She had piercing blue eyes which paired perfectly with her sunset hair. She had long, tanned legs, the perfect bronze color acquired from spending copious amounts of time outside. The blonde one next to her was quite small, with a petite frame and tiny waist that fanned out into large hips. She was dressed more- provocatively than her sister and obviously wasn't afraid of showing skin. Her dark red flannel was folded up to reveal a tanned stomach, and her jean shorts revealed legs that went on for days. Her wild hair was pulled haphazardly up into a ponytail with a few strands hanging in the front. Sam spent a long time staring, almost long enough to make it uncomfortable. He couldn't quite believe what he was seeing, the infamous twins standing at his door. Sunny Skye and Kitty Kat Singer.
"Hiya Sammy," Skye waved. From her side, her sister Kat smiled devilishly. "Fancy meeting you here."
The last thing Sam remembered was the butt of a rifle quickly approaching his face before he blacked out.
"So how much longer do you think he's gonna sleep?" I asked. Dean shrugged.
"Who knows? I hit him pretty hard, but he's never been much of a pansy. How's his head doing Skye?" Dean positioned his mirror so he could look at Skye who had Sam's head in her lap and was patting a cold washcloth all over the side of his head.
"He'll live. You sure you couldn't have hit him a little more gently?" She shot Dean one of her famous condescending looks before directing her attention back to Sam. Dean did nothing to acknowledge this except reach for my hand across the bench seating of the Impala. I pulled my hand away and busied myself with sorting through the collection of cellphones that were kept for emergencies.
"Kat, are you sure you're ok? You've been acting really dodgy, you're not normally like this," Dean placed his hand back on the steering wheel.
"Well you wouldn't know what I'm like, would you Dean. It's not like we've kept in touch for the last 10 years," I threw the box back onto the floor and sighed. "I've just been through a lot is all. I don't really want to talk about it." I rubbed my stomach absentmindedly and looked down. I had a sudden vision of it large, inflated as though- I shook the vision from my head.
A few miles later a groan was heard from the back seat. Sam sat up, and rubbed his temples.
"Morning sunshine," Skye grinned. "'Bout time you woke up." Sam looked around confusedly, but recognition grew in his eyes as he looked in the faces in the car.
"You didn't," he growled, anger becoming alarmingly present in his face as well.
"We did what we had to Sammy," Dean showed no emotion; although Skye and I both knew that he was bluffing. "We need you to find dad. Your college days are over."
"Dean you can't do this. I'll call the police, you'll be arrested for kidnapping," Sam seemed to be bluffing himself; he would never get his brother in trouble like that.
"Very funny Sammy," Dean chuckled. "Now sit back and suck it up. We have a very long drive ahead of us."
Before long we arrived at a motel. Dean opened the door to the Impala and stepped out onto the damp pavement. I followed him into the lobby as Skye began to unpack our belongings. Sam stayed sulking in the back.
"Room for four please," Dean placed his credit card on the counter. The woman behind the counter smacked her gum and stared blankly at us.
"We only have rooms for 3," she told us monotonously. Dean sighed.
"I guess I can sleep on the couch then," We paid for the room and went back out to the car where Skye was waiting with two suitcases and a furious looking Sam.
"You ready?" I asked. Skye nodded and followed us to the room, Sam trailing behind. "He's got something up his sleeve." I murmured to Dean.
"Oh I know," He pulled a small black cellphone out of his pocket and waved it around. "But I'm a step ahead." I grinned and rolled my eyes as we walked into the motel room.
