Dean put one of the large coffees in the crook of his elbow, enabling one free hand to turn the knob. He pushed the door open with his shoulder and shut it with a kick. A brown paper bag with grease stains on the side dangled from between his teeth until he could set the hot beverages on the table. "Sam, you up?" He dug inside the bag and pulled out the sandwiches, laying one beside his brother's idle laptop. "Sammy?" The beds were empty and it was then he heard the shower running and noticed Sam's duffel, sitting open in the chair. With a shrug, he took a hearty bite and moved Sam's bag. Sitting down, he ran his finger over the mouse pad to wake the laptop. "Let's see what you've been looking at, little brother." It was obviously research, a hunt for a case. Murders, disappearances, the usual. He smiled grimly. The usual for them lately had been death, Leviathans, and just Hell on earth. The brothers had literally lost everything and everyone. Hunting now was more dangerous than ever, but it was what they did. It was who they were. And as long as he had Sam…
"Are you watching that cartoon porn again?"
Dean stifled a gasp. He had not heard the shower stop. Quickly righting himself, he put a finger in the air and stated matter-of-factly, "Anime, Sam. It's called anime."
Sam rolled his eyes. "Whatever, dude." Holding the towel at his waist, he stalked over and reached in front of Dean to click on a webpage he had previously been reading. "Look at this." His brother held his sandwich high.
"Gross, Sam. Get dressed!" Another eye roll and Sam disappeared back into the bathroom. Dean chewed and read and read and chewed, finishing the sandwich long before finishing the page. "Seriously, man? The Bell Witch?"
"Open the window on the right!" Came the voice from the bathroom. Dean mouthed the words mockingly, but did as he was told. His eyes scanned the screen as he sipped his coffee, eyes widening then narrowing only to widen again as he read. "Did you see?" Sam emerged fully clothed and tossed the damp towel into the corner. Taking a seat across from Dean, he picked up the sandwich, sniffed it, and sat it back down before picking up his coffee.
"Sammy. Eat." Dean all but ordered while he kept his eyes glued to the screen.
"I'm good." Sam sipped the hot liquid and waited for his brother to finish.
"Okay, disappearances and a few unexplained deaths." The older of the two leaned back in his chair and scratched the back of his head. "What makes this our kinda thing?"
Sam dropped his head, exasperated. Grabbing the side of the laptop, he spun it around to face him. "The Bell Witch was said to make her first appearance back in 1817 to the family of John Bell. It's suspected to be the ghost of his former fiancé, Kate Batts. Her death was…" he tilted his head to one side, then the other, "unexplained."
"Sammy."
"Yea?"
"Your geek is showing."
Sam fumed. "Shut up."
Dean chuckled and propped his feet up on the arm of Sam's chair. "Okay… that doesn't answer my-,"
Sam held up a hand. "John, his children, and many family guests were said to have been attacked by an unseen presence: slapping, pulling their hair, they would hear whispers. One of the children…Betsy… even got sick, convulsions and fainting."
"So?"
"So, before their deaths, the recent victims reported being harassed by an unseen assailant." Sam sat back, giving the sole of Dean's boots a scowl before shoving them off.
"Okay, I'll bite. So, where's all this happening?"
"Adams, Tennessee." Sam shut the laptop and got up, putting it away in his bag. "Don't you know anything?" He shook his head and set about packing up his belongs while Dean had yet to move from his perch.
"Ignorance is bliss." Dean raised an eyebrow at his brother, now standing in the doorway, weapons bag in one hand and his duffel in the other. "You in a hurry, princess?" Sam opened his mouth to answer, but was waved off quickly. "I'm kidding. Jeez, gimme five minutes and we're out of here." With that, he disappeared behind the bathroom door.
Sam sighed and dropped the bags to the floor. Sometimes his brother was absolutely insufferable, but then again, that is what made Dean Dean. He would prefer this version of Dean any day, compared to a grieving, angry shell of a man. It was Dean that always had his back, even in those moments when he couldn't fully be trusted; when he couldn't even trust himself. When everyone else was sure Sam would fall…even if he did fall… Dean was there.
He snapped from his reverie when the bathroom door opened to reveal his brother's face in a billowing cloud of steam. "Better make that ten."
Sam sighed again…and then smiled.
As long as he had Dean…
Dean climbed back into the car, a pack of M&M's dangling from between his teeth, and tossed his bagful of goodies into the seat. Sam looked up from the map but said nothing. "What? I got you healthy crap." He grabbed a bottle of water and a protein bar from the bag and tossed them into Sam's lap.
"Thanks."
"How long we got?" The engine of the Challenger rumbled to life and Dean took a moment to yearn for his baby. He cursed the Leviathans for forcing him to put her off the radar. With an indignant pout, he put the car into gear and pulled away from the middle-of-nowhere station.
"Uh, about seven hours." Sam wiped at his eyes with a thumb and forefinger, folding the map and putting it in the glove box. He had slept three days after Castiel had taken on his mental burden, but, truth be told, he was still exhausted. The time he had spent battling Lucifer's projection had taken its toll. Since that time, even before that, they had spent most of their time laying low, taking small cases that did not reek of Leviathans. Even then, they kept their guard up, never knowing which 'innocent' bystander would turn out to be a 'big mouth.' "Just get to Clarksville. No hotels in Adams." He adjusted himself in the seat as best he could and let his head rest against the window.
Dean glanced over and then back to the road. "You okay?"
"Yea, I'm good." Sam closed his eyes. "Just tired."
His brother did not question. Sam had every right to be tired. Having Satan pick at every nook and cranny of your melon would undoubtedly take a lot out of a man. Flipping on the radio, he opted for a softer station, allowing Sam some quiet. Besides, he could blast Metallic in seven hours.
And that's just what he did.
Sam jolted awake to Enter Sandman, nearly putting a dent in the top of the small car.
"Rise and shine, Snow White!"
"Dude, are you five?" The younger Winchester rubbed at his eyes. "And it's Sleeping Beauty, idiot."
"You're such a girl." The driver's side door slammed shut before Sam could muster a retort. He would save that one for later. Unfolding himself from the Challenger, he stretched, joints eagerly popping and muscles screaming in relief. Twisting his back, he caught sight of the sign.
"Days Inn?"
Dean stopped and looked back. "Yea. So?"
"Not very inconspicuous." Compared to where they usually stayed, this was a mansion.
"Exactly." He walked back and leaned a hip against the car's hood. "If there are big and slimy's here, they are going to look for us at the most rundown place in town." Sam nodded. Dean had a point. "Besides, Adams is another half hour away and this place is the closest to the road."
"Okay." Sam ran a hand through his hair and walked back to the trunk. "I'll get the bags, you get the room." Dean nodded and trudged toward the office. Sam grabbed the few bags and sat one on the ground, freeing up a hand to shut the trunk. He headed toward the ground floor, studying his surroundings while he waited for his brother. They were obviously downtown, several taller buildings looming in the background with small, no-name establishments scattered down the road. He had to admit, even with Dean's logic, being smack dab in the middle of the city made him a little edgy. Clearing his throat, he dropped his head as a few people shuffled by and up the stairs, paying him no mind.
"Christo." He mumbled, just loud enough for the middle-aged woman to hear. She turned and looked down at him, expression vague.
"I beg your pardon?" Confusion drifted across her features and her hand drifted to fiddle with the cross dangling from her neck. Sam shook his head.
"Uh, sorry. Thought you were," he looked away, embarrassed, "someone else."
"Oh. Well, alright, then. Have a good evening." She gave him one last glance before shooing her children further up the stairs, muttering about 'watch out for strangers.' Sam sighed and wearily turned toward the jingling sound of keys.
"Room 315." Dean tossed the keys in the air and caught them. "Second floor."
"Lovely." Sam groaned, tossing one of the duffels to his brother. He fell in line behind Dean as he trotted up the stairs and down the hallway, counting off each room number as they passed.
"Where the hell is 315?"
"After 314."
Dean turned and put a finger in Sam's face. "Watch it or you'll be sleeping in the car, Sasquatch." He smiled; that smile that says 'you think I'm kidding until you're sticking your feet out the window trying to get comfortable.' Sam waited for him to turn before rolling his eyes. "Ah, here we go!" Dean unlocked the door and reached inside to flip on the lights. Two full size beds sat against the wall, bright colors garnishing the sheets. Each bed was piled high with white, fluffy pillows at the top. The green carpet accented the other colors in the room, preventing it from being a total eyesore. Nice décor hanged on the light beige walls. A nightstand with a clock radio, lamp, and phone sat between the beds. And best of all, a large flat screen television sat on top of the large dresser. The boys just stared in aw for a few moments before Dean hit his knees in front of the tv. "Please…tell me there is pay per view."
Sam dropped and shook his head, trudging past his brother to deposit the bags on the foot of the bed closest to the bathroom. After taking a peek at the shower and vanity area, he clapped his hands. "Well, we should go take a look at a few of the crime scenes." Dean was still staring into the blank screen of the television from his spot on the floor.
"Sammy, if they have pay per view…"
"Dude."
"Okay, okay. We'll get right to work."
"Thank you."
"After we get some chow." Dean continued to survey the room, walking circles around Sam, who just stared at nothing, exasperated. Hands in his pockets, he waited patiently for his brother's short attention span to flip to the next channel. "You just gonna stand there?" There it was.
"Oh, okay. You're ready now?"
"I've been ready. Come on! I'm hungry!" Dean opened the door and eyed Sam as he walked through.
"When are you not hungry?"
He thought about it for a moment before yelling to down the hall to his brother's retreating form, "When I'm rolling in the hay with a hot piece of-"
"DEAN!"
TBC
Some of the information about Clarksville and Adams is accurate, but some is also just the product of my delusional creativity.
I was really excited when I started writing this. I heart reading about the Bell Witch.
Regardless, I hope you enjoyed.
Until next time...