-1Waves of Hard Times

Chapter 1: Thirty Minutes

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or any of the Supernatural characters. Wish I did.

A black 67' Impala, after being driven five hours straight on the road, had finally stopped at a standard corner restaurant. Gravel crunched under the well worn tires as it coasted into the parking lot and came to a halt before the restaurant.

The purring engine was cut off almost abruptly as the driver turned the keys. Putting them into his pocket, he paused. It was way too quiet. The leather seat coverings creaked as he turned to face the back.

"Wake up you two. It's time to eat."

A muffle came from the backseat. "Where are we?"

John glanced and saw his youngest son, Sam, turns from the window. The two hazel eyes peered intently at him, still laced with sleepiness. At eighteen years his oldest, Dean, sat in the passenger seat staring glumly out the window resting his head in his hand.

John and the boys had been traveling for the past four days across the southern states towards their latest hunt. Dean, who had been excited at first at the prospect of another adventure with his Dad, found his enthusiasm dissipating. Spending four days with your younger brother, your annoying younger brother was enough to spoil any good mood.

"Weren't you paying attention?" He snapped back, lifting his head momentarily from his hand.

"Sure I was."

"Then you'd know where we were."

"I…we're at a restaurant." Sam concluded.

Dean resumed staring out the window again. "No shit, dumbass." He said as he glanced at the restaurant. Dean smirked at Sam as he saw him frown in the rear view mirror.

"Alright, boys." John said gruffly. "We're just stopping here quickly for lunch."

"Here?" Dean looked across at his father. At his father's nod, Dean slouched in his seat. "I'm not hungry."

"Not hungry? Oh Henry!" Sam immediately piped up from the back seat in an attempt at humour.

"Shut up, shit face." Dean glared back as Sam snubbed his nose at him.

"Dean, keep the attitude to a minimum? Okay?" John ordered crossly. When Dean didn't acknowledge him, John pressed him, "well?"

"Yes, Sir." Dean mumbled.

"Keep it at a low, Dean." Sam nearly echoed.

"I know we've been driving for a long time, but I don't need your problems right now." John said. John didn't see the broken look Dean showed before it was masked away and concealed behind his now cross expression.

"Yeah, keep 'em to yourself." Sam called from the backseat. Dean almost whipped around to hit him in the face.

"And Sam," John turned to his youngest.

"Ya?"

"Get in the restaurant."

"Yes, Sir." Sam mumbled and opened the car door. As he passed Dean's window he smirked at him. Dean hit the window as Sam sped towards the restaurant. John groaned. Why did they have to start up now? I am so not in the mood for this. He turned to his eldest.

"Hold up Ace." John halted Dean who was ready to step out of the car. "Really, what's been with you lately?"

Dean turned to his father. "Nothing." Yeah right.

John knew that defensive manoeuvre pretty well. Let's just say Dean was not the guy for expressing his emotions or thoughts. John could probably blame that on himself. Again a guilty feeling rode through his body but he pushed it aside.

"I wasn't born yesterday Dean. Spill."

"No crap." Dean muttered.

"Excuse me?" John's tone got sharper. Dean knew better than to talk to him this way.

Suddenly Dean blurted out. "I think I should go on this hunt, dad, seriously."

John sighed. He had hunch that this was why Dean was so moody. Not to mention that Dean lost the privilege to drive his car. For a month. Just that is enough to get Dean ticked off, but adding on that he couldn't go on the hunt, and the lecture he gave Dean, John was surprised Dean held on this long.

"You know your punishment."

"Yeah, but ya know, you and Sam can't go after that werewolf by yourselves. Hello? You need me along."

John knew how true it was. Ever since Dean started going on hunts with him, John could safely say that Dean was a natural at hunting. John was now used to having Dean watch his back, Dean becoming John right hand man. That's why John phoned in Caleb and asked him if he was busy.

"We are going to meet Bobby at a rendezvous point in Hale, Kentucky. I, Sam and Bobby and his partner will be on the hunt."

"You're kidding me, right?"

"If you remember correctly, YOU disobeyed a direct order, Dean. And what almost happened?" When Dean didn't respond John continued, "well?"

"Sam almost got killed."

John barley heard what he said when Dean whispered his answer. John could tell Dean was taking the guilt trip. Ever since the fire, John had purposely told Dean, 'take care of Sammy, his safety comes first.' And Dean stood by that, becoming very protective of Sammy.

"I told you it wouldn't happen again."

"In our business, it better not. I need to be sure it won't happen again. Cause Sam's life could be in jeopardy." Not to mention yours. "For now, no hunt, remember your punishment."

"I know. Sorry sir." Dean slipped out of the car. "We better catch up with Sam before the people in there think he's been abandoned and take him home for a pet."

John opened the car door and follows Dean inside. Pushing the away the thoughts of their conversation, he walked through the door of the diner. As the chime of the bell announcing his entry died away, John looked and saw Sam shifting around in his seat, talking to himself. Always full of energy, Sam had lately been able to change his moods drastically. It kept John on his toes. Not too far off, Dean was at the counter, already getting the eye of the young waitress and soon her number.

As John walked over to the fidgeting Sam, his thoughts turned to Dean. The pretty, young waitress giggled at something Dean said. John gave a soft smile. Dean was very much like himself when he was that age. Young, bold, charming….

As John passed by he was able to hear a fleeting bit of the conversation. Dean was saying, "I'm on tour with my band. We're playing at several huge and big, important concerts. We're getting our name out. We're…uh…the Metal heads." At this point, the girl giggled again, "oh, really? That's like, so cool. You staying in, like, the town? How long? I hope you can spend a few extra days…."

….reckless, cocky.

"Sit already," Sam said, becoming exasperated. He propped the menu up in front of his face as John sat across from him in the booth. "Hmm," Sam pondered, trialing his finger down the list, "this looks good."

"Keep an eye on the price, Sam." John said. There was no sense in wasting money. "Hey, Dean."

Dean didn't acknowledge his father at first, but slowly turned his head. John raised his eyebrows and motioned with one hand to the booth. Dean rolled his eyes and turned back to the girl, apparently bidding her a suave goodbye. He sauntered over in his own time and sat beside Sam.

Soon, the waitress bounced up to them and smiled at Dean. "Hello, my name is Chantal, and I shall be your waitress today." She said in a ridiculously upbeat tone. "Ready to order, Slither?" She focused her limited attention on Dean, who did his best to ignore his father.

"Uh, yeah. How about the…." Dean grabbed the menu out of Sam's hands and scanned the list. Sam glowered at him. "How about the, err...special there, sweet heart." He sent her his megawatt smile. Chantal giggled again, which John was beginning to find rather irritating.

"Sure thing," she said. "Slither." She giggled again as she wrote on her notepad. John had enough of her.

If only John new that the waitress would be the least of his problems come thirty minutes.