Disclaimer: I do not own supernatural rather it is television show. The original characters and stories are mine. Any similarities to real people and places are purely coincidental. I can not take credit for the title, it is a movie out by Columbia Pictures. Thanks Columbia!
Stranger then Fiction
Chapter 1: A Rude Awakening
The last two nights the Winchesters have camped out in the outskirts of Phoenix. The cheap hotel room's air was thick and stale with the remembrance of old cigarettes. The broken air conditioner ejected barely cool air. It was midnight in the quant motel room where the two brothers were sleeping. Dean slept peacefully while Sam slept restlessly. The twisting and thrashing created sweat beads on Sam's forehead.
"NOOO!!" Sam sat straight up in bed with his eyes forced shut, panting and sweating.
Dean sat up, pistol at the ready. "What's going on? You ok?" Dean surveyed the room looking for anything out of place.
Sam untangled himself from the sheet and sat up on the edge of the bed. His breathing slowed down. The sweat continued to bead and to drip from his eyebrows. Dean concerned, sat next to his brother. "You ok Sammy? Talk to me. Tell me what's going." Dean frowned, his hand gently rested on Sam's right shoulder. "Was it Jess again?"
Sam got up and paced the floor like a caged animal. "I don't know why I am having these dreams. I haven't had one for over a year. Why now?" Sam rubbed his shoulders in a fruitless attempt to relieve stress. "I think I need a good stiff drink." He half-heartedly smiled at his brother.
Dean returned a feeble smile, "Yeah that sounds like a good plan. There is a bar down the road. It might help us relax." Without talking they changed into clothes and headed out for the bar.
The bar was a busy hole-in-wall filled with locals. The noisy hall became deathly silent as the two strangers walked in. Everyone turned to stare at the foreigners. "Well, that's not uncomfortable," Dean remarked and gave a half-wave to crowd. After sizing the two up, people went back to their drink, game of pool, or conversation.
Dean pointed to the one remaining table in far corner of the bar. "I'll grab us a drink. Take that table".
Sam fumbled his way through the crowd. No one made eye contact or moved their chair to allow him through. Friendly little place, he thought as he slowly made his way to the small, beer soaked, crumble covered table.
Dean had a little easier time getting through the crowd as he bluntly asked people to move out of his way. He sat down and handed Sam his beer. Immediately taking a swig and giving a refreshing "Ahh". That hit the spot, Sam thought."It's not a stiff drink, but it will work."
Sam was grateful Dean was not interrogating him about the nightmare. Dean had sensed Sam's reluctance to expand on the nightmare while at the motel and did not feel like pushing the topic. Both become engrossed in the watching the crowd. Their nomadic childhood promoted an interest in people watching. In the furthest corner, a young couple sat in the middle of an obvious argument. The female throwing her arms about with anger written on her face. The young man exasperated leaned back and rolled his eyes. Three oversized biker men played cards at the table closest to the brothers. Their graying hair pulled into a long braid and tucked under a handkerchief made Sam smile. Dean under his breath smirked, "Check out the leather chaps and jackets. Big, bad biker men".
"Yeah, let's try to avoid trouble tonight". Sam said with a smile. Sam's head suddenly filled with throbbing and excruciating pain. Moaning and writhing, he clenched his forehead and landed on the filthy floor.
The bar crowd turned and stared at the brothers. An obviously angered biker stood and grunted at Sam on the floor. Dean stood up, "My brother, he has had a little too much to drink. No worries, he will be ok. Go ahead; go back to your drinks. Nothing to see here."
Dean kneeled beside his younger brother and said, "Sammy, I am gonna get us out here before the natives turn on us." He struggled to pick up Sam and balanced him on his feet. Dean clumsily ushered his impaired brother out of the bar.
"Go on now get going. Don't come back till you know how to handle your alcohol!" the grouchy bartender yelled after them.
The fresh air did Sam some good and he came out of his fit but continue to rub his forehead. "A vision, a very strange vision," Sam muttered as he stumbled his way to their car.
Sam leaned heavily on Dean as the two entered the hotel room. We must look like drunks stumbling their way home. Dean thought as he fumbled with the hotel key. He heaved Sam through the door and over to the bed. Gravity pulled both of them onto the bed. Sam groaned with the fall but otherwise seemed unaware of what was happening. Dean attempted to make his brother more comfortable by removing his shoes and pulling a sheet up to Sam's shoulders. Wiping away the sweat from his forehead, he whispered, "Good-night Sammy".
With a deep sigh, Dean fell into his own bed. What a night!