Hello strangers! Yes, I am alive. Yes, I know it's been about three years (literally) since I've updated or written anything. BUT I'M BACK. Now, this story is one I've already written the first chapter of, so I'm reposting it with a couple changes and will be picking up where I left off. Thank you so much to those who have stuck with me! I love you guys. And...enjoy! Please review! And leave any suggestions on stories you'd like me to write!
- Winchesterlove94
The Impala creaked under the weight of the two passengers as they pulled themselves out of the warmth of the car, the doors squeaking shut simultaneously.
"Oh man, Sammy- I haven't had that much fun hustlin' pool in a while," Dean sighed happily, shoving the car keys into the pocket of his leather jacket, "did you see that guys' face when I sunk that last ball in- priceless," he continued cheekily.
Sam rolled his eyes but scoffed a laugh, finding it hard to resist smiling at Deans' shit-eating grin, "You practically bankrupted the guy- I'd be pretty pissed off too," he retorted, scanning the mostly empty parking lot as he trailed his brother to the motel room they rented out earlier that day.
Dean chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the sides, and nodded his head with pride, "We did make a killing," he laughed, yanking out the wad of money he had shoved into the back of his jeans, waving it around victoriously.
The younger brother snatched the pile from his brothers' hands, neither stopping their forward momentum. "How much is this, anyway?" Sam questioned, flipping through the money.
"$2,500, man," Dean called over his shoulder, a grin plastered on his face, "how does lobster sound for dinner?" he asked in all seriousness, his eyes light.
"Dean, it's 1 in the morning," Sam laughed as they reached their room, watching his brother search his pockets for the keys.
"Breakfast?" Dean offered straight-faced. Sam rolled his eyes but his grin grew, dimples showing and all. Dean couldn't help but smile at his brother; it'd been a long time since he'd seen Sam look this...content. "It's been a good night," the older brother sighed happily as he jiggled the key into the lock, "we ganked a fugly, won some serious cash, and we're getting lobster for breakfast."
"You don't even like seafood," Sam pointed out incredulously, shadowing his brother into their motel room, "we should spend our money on things we actually need- like, oh, I don't know, gas for the car, or ammo, or food that doesn't have eyes still attached to its body."
"Why you always gotta bring me down, man?" Dean shot back, snatching the wad of cash from Sam's hands, "tomorrow you'll wish you hadn't been such a little bitch when I'm dining on expensive lobster and you're eating Funyuns."
Sam raised his eyebrows, but quirked a smile, "You're unbelievable," he sighed, shaking his head and throwing his bag onto one of the two beds in the room.
"Thank you," the older brother retorted, cheeky smile back in place.
The room was nothing special. Two beds, one bath, mustard colored walls, a window overlooking the parking lot. It was actually pretty big compared to most rooms the brothers stayed at- this one even had a small kitchen area with it's own microwave. Super fancy.
Sam threw himself onto the bed farthest from the door, grabbing the laptop out of his bag before shoving the rest of his things to the end of the bed. He settled himself onto the bed, shoving a pillow behind his back and opened his laptop with a huff.
"What're you doing?" Dean said, rifling through his own bag, pulling out his Colt 1911- his favorite- the grooves of the ivory engraved handle resting seamlessly in his hand.
Sam glanced up from the screen, "I'm gonna do something useful and find us a new case," he retorted, focusing back on the illuminated screen.
"Actually, you know, I was thinking that maybe we could take some time off," Dean commented, treading carefully, "You know, see the Grand Canyon or the World's Largest Ball of Twine."
Sam sighed, pushing his bangs out of his face. "Dean-"
"-don't 'Dean' me, Sammy. We've been hunting non stop for, what, the past three months? It's about damn time we got a little R&R."
"Dean, the longer we sit on our asses, the c-"
"-colder the trail gets to find dad," the older brother cut in, finishing Sam's sentence. "Dude, I know, we've been over this."
"Then why do you keep bringing it up?" Sam snapped back.
"Well, we're not exactly following the yellow brick road here," he retorted, somewhat incredulously.
Sam just huffed a breath and rolled his eyes, bringing his attention back to the computer.
Dean stared at his brother for a moment, shaking his head a little before tucking the gun into the back of his jeans, "When's the last time you slept for more than two hours?" he asked casually.
Sam clenched his jaw, "I feel fine," he said, shrugging his shoulders.
"That's not what I was asked," Dean fired back. When Sam only shot him a pointed look, he sighed, "I'm just sayin', I know you've been through hell the past few months- but running yourself into the ground isn't the way to deal, man."
"Maybe I should 'deal' your way; you know, drowning myself in liquor and physical violence."
"Do as I say, not as I do, little brother," Dean grinned, trying to hide the pang of hurt he felt.
Sam took a deep breath, "Look, hunting takes my mind off of Je-" Sam's words cut off in his throat and he bowed his head; no way was he going to cry right now, "it takes my mind off of...things. Can we just leave it at that?"
Dean watched his brother for a minute and then nodded his head; he knew when to back off.
He also knew that Sam would confide in him eventually.
But for now, his little brother was hurting and he wasn't going to push him.
"Besides, we've seen the World's Largest Ball of Twine three times," Sam added softly, "how much more interesting can a cat toy get?"
Dean quirked a smile, "You used to love visiting that thing, you know."
"I was six. You could have given me a rock and I'd be entertained."
"Nah, that only lasted a couple hours," the older brother admitted with a smile. Sam just smirked before focusing back to his computer, the tense air in the motel room disappearing.
Dean pulled out another gun from his duffle bag and placed it on bedside table, watching Sam busy himself with his laptop. He peeled off his leather jacket and tossed it over the end of his bed, tucking the amulet that hung rightfully around his neck underneath his shirt. He took a seat on the edge of his bed and began cleaning the other weapons in the bag.
It'd been a really simple case- a run of the mill casper had been haunting an ordinary house; turned out his bones were buried in the backyard after being bludgeoned to death by an ex-wife. A little salt and burn action, and then poof, the fugly was gone.
To celebrate the rare simplicity of the case, the brothers' had gone out for drinks and to stock up on some cash- much to Sam's disapproval, who'd wanted to head back to the motel early and turn in.
"Lemme get a shot of whiskey and two beers," Dean called to the bartender.
The bartender made her way over to the two attractive men at the end of the bar,"Whatcha boys celebrating?" she asked with a smile as she poured a shot, tossing her long dark hair over her shoulder.
Dean retorted with his million dollar smile and winked at the girl, "Oh, you know, just being alive and in the presence of such a beautiful woman."
Sam rolled his eyes and spun around on his stool, his back to the bar now. He knew his brother's game.
"Oh, what a line," the girl laughed out loud, her bright blue eyes sparkling as she handed the shot glass to the older brother, "does that work with all the ladies?"
Dean grinned and glanced down, "Usually," he admitted, sheepishly before tossing back the shot effortlessly, "what's your name?"
"Ellie," she responded, cracking open the two beers and sliding them towards the handsome man in front of her, "and yourself?"
"Dean, and this is my geek brother, Sammy," the older brother responded, clapping Sam on the back and handing him one of the beers.
"Thanks. Thanks for that," Sam muttered, taking a swig of beer as he eyed the surrounding area. Force of habit.
"Well you boys let me know if you need anything else," Ellie sing-songed, nodding to another customer who waved her over, "anything at all," she finished seductively, batting her eyelashes at Dean before winking and heading back to the other side of the bar.
Dean watched her retreating form and whistled under his breath before spinning around on his stool. "Alright, Sammy," he spoke up, clapping his hands together with excitement, "time to win me some money," he said, staring over at the several pool games going on.
Sam scoffed and nursed at his beer, scanning the crowded bar uneasily. The music was blaring loudly and the overwhelming smell of alcohol, smoke and cheap perfume made his stomach churn. He jumped when Dean waved a hand in front of his face, "Hey, am I boring you over there?"
Sam blinked a few times and shook his head, "No, sorry. Have fun," he continued dully, nodding towards the pool tables.
"Gee, Sammy, tone down the enthusiasm, you're embarrassing me," he mocked, rolling his eyes. Sam just quirked a half-hearted smile before staring blankly ahead. "Hey, you okay?" Dean asked, staring at his brother with concern.
"M' Fine. Go have fun," Sam ushered, placing his beer onto the bar.
"What's goin' on with you, Debbie Downer?"
Sam rolled his eyes and elbowed his brother, "Dean, I'm fine. Really," he repeated, an edge to his voice.
Dean was unconvinced, but let it go as he got up off his stool, clapping his brother on the back, "Then you can come help me win some cash," he grinned.
"Great," Sam mumbled unenthusiastically, but hopped off his stool and followed his brother anyway.
They found a game just getting started and Dean joined right in, putting on a drunk facade while Sam continuously attempted to convince his brother he was 'too drunk' and 'inexperienced' to play pool. But Dean just waved him off, putting down a $200 bet, the opponent matching it with sneer.
Sam watched the game unfold, his brother's skills clearly no match for the other guy's. But something was bothering the younger brother- it was the way the man seemed to be staring at Dean and himself. Sam would catch the opponent staring directly at him, a funny look in his eyes; like he was trying to remember something.
A half hour later, after the brothers were up $2,500, the man finally called it quits, slamming his pool stick down.
"Good game, man," Dean said honestly, scooping up the pile of money on the table. The man just stared silently at Dean, fuming.
Sam shifted uneasily- he did not like the way this guy was sizing up his brother and quickly took a stand next to him, "Uh, Dean, you wanna head out?"
"Yeah, Sammy, let's go," Dean responded, breaking eye contact with the man.
The guy's eyebrows suddenly shot up and his eyes went wide, as if a light went off in his head, "Hey, Dean," the man called, after the brothers had turned around, "what'd ya say some day you teach me how to hussel like you?"
Dean paused and faced the guy,"Sorry pal, but-"
"James. The name's James."
The older brother paused, "Well, sorry James, but it was more like beginners luck," he replied smoothly.
James just nodded slowly, his gaze flickering between the brothers, a smirk coming to his face, "Right," he sneered, "well I'll see you boys around, then" he replied, his eyes narrowed slightly, smirk still in place.
Sam tugged at Dean's jacket, directing his brothers attention back to him and nodded his head towards the door, "C'mon," he urged, making his way to the front door, Dean behind him.
What they brothers didn't see before the Impala peeled out onto the main road, was James staring through the bar window, a malicious smile growing on his face.
"Hey, I think I've got something," Sam spoke up after a few minutes, pulling Dean out of his thoughts.
"Let's hear it."
"Alright, so, Lawton, Pennsylvania. Once a month, three girls go missing around the same time- their bodies are found later that-"
Sam was suddenly cut off by incessant pounding on the motel door, the brothers' heads snapping up towards the direction of the noise. The knocks got louder and faster as the boys jumped to their feet, grabbing their guns and aiming them at the door.
Dean motioned for Sam to stay put as he crept to the door, his gun armed and ready. He glanced out of the peephole, but only saw the top of someone's bowed head. The knocking continued, not as loud, but just as incessant.
Sam watched his brother slowly unlock and open the door, his heart pounding in his chest; something was wrong, he could feel it.
Just before Sam could speak up, Dean cracked the door open and a girl came stumbling through it's entrance; the door slamming against the wall as it was shoved the rest of the way open.
Before the girl could fall head first to the floor, Dean caught her limp body, shooting Sam a frantic look. The girl froze in Dean's grasp, trembles shaking her frame. Blood matted down her long, dark hair and covered her clothes that were torn and ripped.
"Hey, hey, hey," Dean soothed, struggling to stand the girl upright on shaking legs, "You okay, lady?"
The girl's head slowly rose- big, frightened, bright blue eyes bore into the older brothers. Sam hovered near by, adjusting the grip on his gun, and suddenly, we recognized the scared woman, "Dean..." Sam started slowly, a pit beginning to form in his stomach, "isn't that the bartender from earlier?"
Dean moved his eyes from his brother, to the girl, searching her face for familiarity, when it clicked. "Shit. Ellie," he muttered, "hey, you're okay, sweetheart," he now spoke to the girl, still holding her upright, "what happened?"
Ellie stared at him for what seemed like hours, her bright eyes now haunted and void, and whispered through cracked lips, "I'm sorry."
Not a second after those words left her tongue, two large figures came barreling into the motel room- one ripping the girl from Dean's grasp before he could even look up and the other pointing his gun at Sam. At the same time, Sam held his own gun towards the second man and Dean pointed his at the other who now held Ellie against his own body.
"Who the hell are you?" Dean roared, taking a few steps back so he was standing next to his brother.
"Drop the guns!" the man holding the bartender shouted, who whimpered at his outburst.
"Hey, easy!" Sam shouted, his heart pounding furiously as he locked eyes with the frightened girl, "what do you want?"
"I'm not gonna ask you again," the same man growled, and at that moment, the brothers' saw the glint of a silver knife pressed up against Ellie's throat, a tiny trail of blood leaking from where the knife was placed. "Now drop the God damn guns or you'll see the inside of this pretty little things's throat on your floor."
"Okay, okay! Just calm down!" Dean yelled, pulling his aim off one of the men and holding his hands up, nodding for Sam to do the same. The brother's slowly placed their guns at their feet, both racking their brains for a Plan B.
"Now put your hands above your head," the man continued, shoving the bartender to her knees, the girl crying out as she hit the floor.
Dean and Sam placed their hands on their heads, shooting each other a look, before focusing on the two guns pointed at them.
"Alright, come on in, boss," the second man called through the door. A few moments later, two more men sauntered in and then following behind them...
James.
"Oh you've got to be fucking kidding me," Dean gritted with disbelief.
"Hey boys," James greeted with a eerie grin, "told ya I'd be seeing you soon."
"What the hell's goin' on?" Sam demanded, clenching his jaw tightly.
"We've got a long night ahead of us..." James trailed off, glancing back and forth between Dean and Sam, his sneer growing into a merciless smile, "So let's get started."