A/N Let me just start off by saying, today was not a good day. And this is the result of that. Bad story and angry characters. I love them, I love them, and I love them. But they are mad at each other right now, and if you can't deal with that, don't read it. They will however get over it, because I love them together. I would love to thank StealerOfDreams because she is the best and I love her for beta-ing, I actually really do. I hope you like it, and remember reviews feed the soul. Oh btw, this is the sequel to Old Man Serra, but it's not important to read that one but you can if you like, and you can review on it too!
Disclaimer: If I owned them, I wouldn't write this, I'd spend every minute with them.
Warning: I guess slight spoilers for the season finale, but they are slight. I'm sure language will come up somewhere in here too.
Summary: When Dean tried to crack a joke, he'd be met with a blank stare. When Sam tried to bring up something else, Dean would redirect the conversation to the hunt. It was all they did, and it was starting to take its toll.
More A/N: I love Sammy, and I don't mean to sound horrible to him or Dean. I'm not blaming either, so sorry if my writing comes that way. It's just when you're mad at someone, things are difficult. You say things you don't mean, and you think things you don't really think. But try to stick with it, because I promise it's not going to be so bad in the end. Oh and btw, I love country music, especially Brad Paisley.
It was cold, and Dean wished he could be any place but here. He pulled his jacket tighter and turned the heat up. He glanced at Sam sleeping in the passenger seat, and silently cursed him for always picking the worst places to go. Dean glances outside the window, only to see rain falling. He hates this time of year; it was the only time he and Sam weren't allowed outside to play when they were little. During the summer it was warm, and they ran around outside, and swam in whatever lake Dad managed to find. During the winter, they had snow ball fights in the snow banks right outside the motel room. But during the cold month of November, they sat inside watching the rain pour. Although now Sam and he barely ran around in the summer or have snow ball fights anymore, he still holds that grudge towards the month. Although Dean still didn't like rain, he felt like it restricted him from doing so much.
"Dean?" the voice snapped Dean back in reality. It was soft, but tense. "Where are we?"
"We're almost there Sam," Dean scoffed. He had been driving most of yesterday and tonight. Sam had offered to drive, but Dean knew he was tired. "It's like two more hours or something. But I'm thinking we should stop and get some grub, what do you think?"
"Sure, where are we?" Sam asked again as he sat up, a little more awake now.
"Reedsport, Oregon" Dean responded with a smirk. They were headed to Tillamook, some hours away for some ghost sighting apparently. Dean had laughed when Sam suggested it, because usually, people wouldn't know it was a spirit if it came and started a conversation with them. Dean pulled over at a little café along the side of the road. It was a small café, but it worked. Dean stepped out of the car and stretched his legs. He waited for a minute before Sam shut the car door, and then headed towards the entrance.
Dean walked in casually, and spotted a booth in the back. He made his way towards it, and slowly slid into one of the seats. Sam followed suit, and slid into the seat opposite Dean. He picked up a discard newspaper that was left on the table from earlier, and skimmed it. He was looking for anything that might interest him during these boring days they'd been having lately. Dean smirked when he saw Sam reading a newspaper, and retreated to looking at the menu that was propped against the window.
"Hey Sam?" Sam looked up from his newspaper to acknowledge he was listening. "I'm in a bit of a predicament."
"What's that?" Sam asked casually, not really sure he wanted to know.
"I'm a little stuck between the bacon and eggs, and the sausage and eggs." Sam shook his head, knowing it would be something ridiculous like that, and went back to reading his news paper. "No Sam, I'm serious, help me out here."
Dean never missed a meal. If there was one thing Dean enjoyed, it was eating. Food was like an oasis for Dean; he rarely slept because Sam was always waking him up screaming like a girl from some nightmare or the other. And the rest of the time, all he did was eat, think, and breathe hunting. Before Sam could answer, a young man came up to ask for their order.
"Let's see," Dean started, eyes skimming the menu over a few times. He closed the menu and looked at Sam while he talked. "I'll have some coffee and the sausage and eggs."
"I'll have a coffee and just a piece of toast," Sam followed. Dean raised his eyebrow at Sam, but Sam didn't see it; he went back to reading the newspaper. It had been a while since Sam had actually had a decent meal, and Dean was careful to take note. Part of him wanted to push Sam into eating more, because yes he was worried; but the other part of him didn't want to say anything, because he didn't want Sam to know he was worried. If Sam knew, they'd start another argument about something or the other, and maybe not even address food.
Lately it had been tough; all they'd been doing was arguing. Things had become tense between them, only talking about the hunt and what to do next. They rarely talked about Dad, or joked anymore. When Dean tried to crack a joke, he'd be met with a blank stare. When Sam tried to bring up something else, Dean would redirect the conversation to the hunt. It was all they did, and it was starting to take its toll.
By now, Sam had become accustomed to the hunting life style again. He was still bent on going back to school eventually, and maybe hitting up law school for real this time. But for right now he accepted that he was needed else where, he put his dreams on hold and dragged himself along in this life the Winchester's called theirs.
Dean was hitting his point. They'd found Dad some months ago in Chicago, but they barely heard from him since. They had started off on the east coast, hoping to avoid any states that brought back ugly memories, but had ended up in Carmel, California for the most boring hunt, Dean claimed, ever. James Hilf was just not an interesting boy, and definitely needed to see a therapist. And maybe if he had, Dean would be saved from the boring life of Carmel. Then there had been all that drama with the demon, which failed to make any improvement, except to use all the bullets in the colt except for the last one. It had been about six months since all that happened, and after Dad had disappeared from the hospital again with the colt, the boys had resumed hunting without him. And here they were, one state away from the last hunt before the demon business, and Dean was bored as hell.
Dean's thrills came from hunting the exciting stuff, you know the stuff where your heart rate speeds up and you're running on pure adrenaline. He couldn't stand all this research crap, and all he wanted to do was jump right in and find some action. Dean was more of a 'shoot first ask later' guy, and he intended to do just that.
The silence was finally broken when the food came, and Dean rubbed his hands together with excitement. Sam glanced up and plastered on his face on of those grins. But it wasn't the same grin that either one would have in a playful situation, no it was one of those forced, well if we're stuck together might as well pretend we like each other grins. Dean didn't acknowledge Sam, and just started eating. He stuffed his mouth full of whatever food was on his plate, and Sam briefly wondered why Dean bothered picking what to eat when he ate so fast he probably couldn't even tell the difference.
Sam picked up his piece of toast and nibbled at it, slowly eating it and still reading away. Dean paused for just a minute, just to show his disgust at the way Sam ate, and Sam almost wanted to grab a mirror and show Dean what he looked like. But neither brother spoke, just ate in silence. Dean wondered where it all went wrong. Was it finding Dad and then losing him again that brought this tear between them? Or maybe it was being so close, and then losing this demon again. Or maybe, it was hearing the words the demon had to say. Dean would admit that it hurt; it hurt that Sam never called from college to check in, or even tell him about Jessica. Especially now that he knew Sam wanted to marry her, and just thinking about it made him want to hurl.
Sam was mad at Dean, but more so, he was mad at himself. How Dean be so selfish, how could he always want Sam and Dad to be around for him? Why would he guilt trip Sam into staying? Part of Sam believed all this was part of Dean's plan, but each boy knew that this was all a fragment of their anger, of their disappointment. The thing they found was, it's easiest to blame the person you're closest to, because they'll always come back. Dean knew that Sam didn't think he could call home, Dad had in fact told him never to come back. Sam knew that all Dean ever cared about was him and Dad, and that Dean never forced him to stay, just asked.
But in all of the confusing and desperate times for anything to grasp that was good news, they broke down on the only thing they had left, and that was each other. They had been lucky, knowing Bobby and all. The Impala was wrecked, completely and utterly gone, but Bobby had promised to try his best to get it back to perfection. And while they waited, they borrowed one of Bobby's old pick up trucks. Dean hated the car more than anything, and every time he saw it or drove it, he was reminded of what he was being deprived of. Bobby had said it would be a few months, and a few months later he extended it to a "well the car's really fucked up, but I'll call you when it's close." That had been a month ago, and that was the last they'd heard. Dean almost gave up on it, but he couldn't. It was his beloved car, and right now, it was the only thing that would make him sane again.
Dean considered himself lucky; almost nobody would even try on a totaled car, but Dean wouldn't give up on the Impala because she had never given up on him. So here he was, Reedsport, Oregon, with a rusty old pick up truck and a grumpy brother who barely talked. And apparently he was lucky, the doctors had told him that after the crash, and Dean smirked at how ironic that sounded. And then there were the cassette tapes, all his beautiful music that will never be found again. Dean would have to search far and wide to replace his collection again.
"Dean," Sam brought Dean back to the present again. He seemed to be doing that a lot, drifting into his distant thoughts. "Look."
Dean looked to where Sam was gazing, only to notice a huge crowd of people. Sure they were near the ocean, driving along the coast because well, Sam insisted on it. But there was a huge commotion going on outside for such a little town, there were even several police officers. One lady was escorted into the diner, and she was crying hysterically. Dean tuned into what she was saying, something about finding something on the beach as she was walking. He got up and made his way outside, leaving Sam alone with his empty plate and Sam's piece of toast still there.
What Dean saw made him want to gag. The first thing he was met with was the horrifying smell, and like that wasn't enough, there it was. A person's liver sitting right out on the beach, like it belonged there or something. Dean glanced around the crowd and police officers trying to understand where it came from. He got the gist of it from over hearing parts of conversations. "Oh that poor boy that disappeared!" and "it just washed up on shore, no right now!" Dean shrugged and then made his way back inside to finish off the little amount of coffee still left in his cup.
"What is it?" Sam asked still reading the newspaper like there was actually something interesting written in it.
"Oh, some one's liver just washed up on shore," Dean said as a matter of factly. "I guess some boy's been missing, and his liver just washed up."
"Dean," Dean shrugged like it would answer anything Sam had to say. "What kind of missing person's liver would just show up?"
"I don't know Sam," Dean sighed, he was really starting to get annoyed with Sam's let's-figure-everything-out attitude. "Maybe a shark attack or something, I mean we're at the ocean."
"Why would his liver still be in tact though?" Sam always questioned everything, and Dean rolled his eyes at that.
"I don't know Sam," Dean responded in a harsh tone. "Look it up or something."
Sam wanted to ask more questions, Dean could tell by the way he opened his mouth, pouted, and then closed it over and over. But he didn't, he just got up and left. And Dean rolled his eyes, not really caring to find out where Sam was going, but realized that eventually he'd have to, otherwise Dad would kill him.
"Where are you going?" Dean practically shouted across the diner.
"To look it up," Sam shot back, and then he was gone. And Dean shrugged, and then he picked up Sam's toast and engulfed it in one bite.
Sam had walked a little over a mile before he realized that the car was in fact trailing him. He cursed himself for not noticing earlier, and stopped walking, wishing he had brought his gun or at least a knife with him. The car slowed down and stopped right beside him, so Sam could see the driver was a male. The window rolled down and then the driver spoke.
"Hey man, you alright?" Sam rolled his eyes, what was up with these small towns and everyone thinking they knew everyone in it? "I saw you storm out of the diner, and you look kind of lost."
"Yeah actually," Sam decided to take advantage of the stupidity of this man. "Do you know where I could find a library?"
The man pointed in on direction and then took off, and Sam laughed. Obviously this man was worried enough to follow him, and then took off without offering a ride, oh how the world worked. It made Sam laugh even more.
Sam was still laughing when he reached the library, what for now he had no idea. He was just laughing because life in general was funny, and everything in between was funny too. It was better to laugh he figured, then to cry and throw things, and it had been a while since he laughed a real laugh. So he laughed, and then he quieted down and went in the library. He walked through the rows, trying to find a quiet place to sit and skim books. He found a computer sitting by itself and decided to sit there.
Sam sat there for a while browsing through disappearances near the ocean or near the diner. He looked through every one, noticing how the liver was always the thing that showed up. Sam wondered just how they could tell which liver belonged to who and what not, but dismissed it because he actually didn't feel like caring about anything right now. He searched the archives for the earliest find and found no sense of anything. The first disappearance was a boy named John, and Sam laughed out loud at that, nothing odd about him. Nothing wrong with dear old John, just disappeared by the ocean, and washed up few days later as only a liver. The next disappearance had been a year after that. Johnny boy had a good life, and Sam was forced to forget.
Sam leaned back in his chair, frustrated and tired of everything in general. He sighed one of those extremely dramatic and loud sighs, and then he noticed the man behind him staring at him. He started staring back, wondering if he should say something. He stood there for a moment, before he decided the man realized he was staring back.
"Not finding what you're looking for?" He asked politely. Fine, Sam could do polite, plus it didn't hurt to talk to someone else besides Dean every once in a while.
"No not really," Sam responded and sighed again.
"Are you from around here?" he asked and sat down in a chair two seats away from Sam. "I haven't seen you before."
"No, my brother and I are just in town." The guy looked around and Sam felt stupid for a second. This guy was looking for something, and he obviously didn't find it.
"Brother?" And then Sam laughed, because he got it.
"Yeah, he's back at that diner by all that commotion."
"So you guys were just passing through, and stopped for breakfast, and then you walked to the library?"
"Pretty much," and Sam kept laughing.
"You in school or something?" Sam turned his head at that question, how did he respond to that?
"Well I was," Sam hesitated.
"What school?"
"Stanford," the guy seemed a little taken back. "Oh wow."
"Yeah, but I'm not there anymore."
"Why's that?"
"My girlfriend died and now I'm on a road trip with my brother." It was blunt, but Sam was tired of lying to everyone but Dean. It didn't work anymore for him.
"Oh I'm sorry," and Sam laughed again.
"Don't be sorry, I'm pretty much over it now."
"Oh," the guy moved his head a little. "Oh I'm sorry I didn't mean to be rude, the names Jackson."
"Sam" and he held out his hand.
"So what are you looking into?"
"Just those livers that keep turning up," he said again with the blunt truth.
"Oh," Jackson looked around. "If you want to know my opinion…"
"Sure," Sam looked at him with interest.
"Well it's just; I don't think its sharks or anything like that. I think that would just be weird, I mean why would they leave the livers? I'm one of those guys that believes there's other things in this world than just us, and I think this is one of those things. I don't know what, but you know I've been looking into for a while because my sister was one of the people that disappeared. And the thing is, there was once a witness. A little boy named Mike, and I talked to him, and all he could tell me was that he was scared of horses. I wouldn't make anything of it really, but my sister really loved horses so it kind of struck me. I know I sound insane."
"Huh," was all Sam could say. "Want to help me out?"
"Sure," Jackson nodded. They sat in the library going through nothing, reliving each other's life stories for the most part. Sam skipped the details, and Jackson lived through his. But they got interrupted by the sound of Sam's cell phone. Sam glanced down to see it was Dean. He sighed and picked it up, announced that he should go back to diner, and Jackson offered to drive him.
It had been a good hour since Sam had last seen Dean, and when he came back to the dinner and walked through with Jackson, he wasn't surprised to see Dean sitting in exactly the same spot with two empty plates in front of him. Sam slid across from Dean, but this time all the way over and Jackson slid in next to him.
"Well hello there Sammy," Dean earned himself a glare. "So nice of you to show up, and who is your friend, may I ask?"
"Jackson, this is my brother Dean," Sam said more to Jackson than Dean.
"Hmm," Dean barely acknowledges him. "Alright Sammy, are you ready to go?"
"First of all," Sam started; Dean noticed that he's taken quite a liking to that glare. "It's Sam. And second of all, I'm going to stay here."
"Fine whatever," and Dean got up to leave. He placed a twenty on the table, looked at Jackson, and didn't dare look at Sam. And soon Sam found himself in the same place as Indiana, watching Dean drive off, except this time, in an old rusty pick up truck.
Dean made it about ten minutes before he gave up. He could no longer see Sam, and he had no intention of going back to Sam this time. If Dad asked where Sam was, Dean would shoot the same question back. And that was his solution. Dean was tired of Sam's whiney ways, and he decided from that moment on that Sam was an adult. Sam could take care of himself, and so he let him. But Dean gave up on a much bigger issue; finding a good radio station. He had finally decided that even though he hated it, and it should be illegal, he'd listen to the country music.
It was horrible Dean decided, as he hummed along to the music. He almost wanted to slap himself. And he had no second thoughts about leaving Sam behind. Dean heard the familiar ring of his phone and picked it up. After glancing at who was calling, and deciding that no Sam wasn't worth answering, he opened it and hung up- just so Sam would know he was ignoring him. But he didn't hate Sam, he loved Sam. He lived his whole life for Sam, and Sam's always it for him. But now, they needed to spilt, because too much pressure makes things burst, everyone knows that.
Sam was what most people called surprised when Dean hung up on him. He was astonished when Dean wouldn't even let him leave a message. And he knew why. He didn't mean to make Dean upset, and he didn't mean to drive Dean off. But desperate times call for desperate measures, and sometimes in the middle of it, you drive off the most important people.
"So I guess you guys don't really get along huh?" Jackson asked. Sam glanced over at him, remembering for the first time that he was still there. He thought about it for a second, the question Jackson was asking. It was funny to Sam that Jackson was still there, nice guy is what he is. Sam silently wishes Dean were more like him.
"Actually," Sam started and paused. He does the open mouth close mouth thing again before he decides what he actually wants to say. "He's not so bad."
Dean stopped the truck somewhere between Reedsport and Tillamook, but he wouldn't be able to tell you where. He had gotten a few more calls, one more from Sam, one from an old friend, and one from some number he didn't know. He hadn't picked up because none of them had been from the one person he wanted one from. All his life he waited for one person to call, just one person. And even though that's all he really asked for, one phone call from that one person, he knew he'd never get it. Never ever, but that doesn't mean you have to give up. Because sometimes having hope was enough, enough to remind you what it's worth.
But Dean waited and waited for that one phone call. And right now he needed it. He needed someone to tell him what was right, and what to do. He needed her to call and say everything was going to be okay. He needed her to say it, because then it'd be real. And then he wanted her to tell him she still loved him. And he wanted to be reminded of what happened, and what he lost. Because when all is gone and over, only memories are left. And sometimes that's all you need, but even those he had been mostly deprived of. He needed Mom to call, because Mom's always knew what to do.