Ferguson's Edge

By Magicsunbeam

Genre: Mystery/angst

Rated: T for odd mild swear words

Summary: A blizzard forces the boys to make an unscheduled stop in a small town. When they find no accommodation, the local sympathetic realtor offers them use of a empty farmhouse. There, the boys stumble on a 65 year old mystery. Hurt Sam/angst, frustrated Dean.

*** Disclaimer*** Supernatural isn't mine. It and its characters etc belong to lucky old Mr Kripe and WB.

~~~***~~~***~~~***~~~***~~~***~~~***~~~***~~~***~~~***~~~

Dean Winchester gripped the steering wheel of his `65 Impala so tightly, his knuckles showed white. With his nose was almost pressed to the windscreen, his eyes scanned the road ahead, searching for the grass verge.

He swore softly under his breath as another wave of snow swept across the car, momentarily taking away what precious little visibility he did have.

Sam Winchester tried to look relaxed in the passenger seat, but if pushed, he'd have to admit he was starting to feel a little uneasy. His uneasiness was heightened a moment later when, swearing again, Dean rubbed at the windscreen with his shirt sleeve.

"Dude, you know that's not going to help. Why don't you just accept it?" he asked his sibling.

"Accept what?" Dean growled in frustration.

"That we're going to have to stop. The radio's predicting blizzards in the area for the rest of the day. If we try to keep going in this we're going to get stuck. Or worse."

"So what do you suggest, genius? In case you hadn't noticed, we're in the middle of no where!"

"There's a town about a mile up the road. It may be an idea to stop there for the night?"

Dean was silent for just a moment before his temper got the better of him and he thumped the steering wheel in frustration.

"Frickin` snow! I HATE frickin` SNOW!"

Sam barely managed to keep himself from laughing out loud at his brother tantrum, but he couldn't control the goofy grin.

"Man, you're so cute when you lose it like that."

Dean stopped the already crawling car and whipped his head in his brothers direction. Incredulity showed clearly in his eyes and that made Sam lose it all together. He laughed loud and hysterically, tears of mirth welling up and spilling onto his cheeks. Dean sat for a moment with a nonplussed expression on his face that made Sam laugh even harder.

Before long a smirk broke through and Dean began to chuckle to himself. He glanced at his brother and wondered when they had last laughed like this. Dean put his foot on the gas and slowly inched the old car forward again.

"Bitch." he muttered, grinning.

Sam grinned back.

"Jerk."

_______________________________________________________

One mile and a lot of snow later, the boys heaved a collective sigh of relief when they saw a billboard advertising `Eden Hills - population 745.` Dean had pulled the car in a parking slot next to the town's convenience store and whilst Sam crossed the road to the towns Hills Motel to book a room, Dean had gone into the store for supplies.

"You're kidding, right?"

"No joke, man. They have no room."

"Okay, so we find another motel."

"There's only one motel."

Sam watched with concern as his brother's eyebrows almost disappeared into his hairline.

"It's a very small town." Sam tried to reason.

Dean stared numbly at his brother before adding an extra box of Oreo cookies to his already considerable stash and head back up the aisle.

"Where are you going?" Sam asked, following his irate sibling.

"To the car. Next town might be more accommodating."

"Dean!" Sam snagged his brother's jacket pulled him to a stop. "In case you hadn't noticed; it's snowing. Heavily."

Dean pulled himself from Sam's grip. "I know that, Sam! What do you suggest we do?"

Sam was about to answer when a box of crackers moved along the shelf voice asked.

"Can I make a suggestion?"

___________________________________________________

"I can't believe we're doing this." Sam grumbled, pulling his coat tighter around his body.

"You were the one who said we should stay." Dean countered, his eyes scanning the snow covered road.

"In a motel!"

"There isn't any room, remember? You'd prefer sleeping in the car?"

"Yeah, but man, a run down farmhouse? We're going to freeze or asses off ." Sam grumbled.

"Suck it up, Sammy-Boy. You're not half as cute as me." Dean smirked at his brother, sighing when Sam didn't make a come back. "Look, it's not run down, it just hasn't been occupied for a couple of years. Ron said there are plenty of logs ready to burn, we have the sleeping bags. We'll be fine. Besides, it's still better than the car."

"That's another thing; since when did we start trusting perfect strangers?"

But Dean was no longer listening. He was looking at the big structure that had suddenly loomed out of the near white-out. Dean pulled the car up beside a tatty- looking mail box, wound the window down and brushed away the snow. There, on its side in plain black letters were the words.

FERGUSON'S EDGE.

"Sam." Dean said staring up at the farmhouse. "I think we're home."

______________________________________

TBC