Chapter 1 – Flesh and Blood
291 Days
Spokane, Washington – 7:00am
Dean rolled over to strike the alarm clock where it wailed next to his head. Once again he had awoken with the edgy need that was becoming and intrinsic part of his current existence. Sam still hadn't stirred, so Dean didn't mind throwing back the covers and heading for the bathroom, ignoring the morning erection that pushed uselessly against his boxers.
Dean walked into the bathroom and stood before his reflection in the small motel mirror. He studied his features and was slightly taken back at how ragged he looked. He hadn't shaved in a few days so patchy stubble clung to his chin, and he wasn't sleeping well so heavy dark bruises had appeared under his eyes.
He ran a hand agitatedly through his hair and turned away from his reflection in disgust. He started the shower and stripped off his faded t-shirt and boxer shorts before climbing in. The water streamed down over his face and body and he felt a measure of relief at its warmth.
Dean's existence had become all about the job. He found joy in nothing and every waking moment he made his mind focus. He and Sam had spent three very long days at Bobby's hunting cabin, monitoring the news and the police websites for any information about their run in with Hendrickson, all the while Sam had been researching up incidents that happened in Spokane. Why he had suddenly become fixated with the city in Washington, Dean didn't know, and he had stopped asking.
Dean dunked his head under the spray and turned his face towards the falling water, as he let the water run over him, his mind turned to the Doc, as it seemed to constantly. It didn't matter if he was awake or asleep, the idea of the woman seemed to haunt him everywhere. As soon as his thoughts turned to the Doc, recollections of the dream that he had about her flooded him and he felt the blood rapidly heading south.
In reality, Dean had kissed her only once, barely touching her, but in his dreams Dean had taken her every night in every conceivable way since he had said goodbye to her ten days ago. His body throbbed incessantly, but he knew from experience that taking care of his need just left him feeling empty and pathetic, so he reached for the faucet and cranked up the cold water.
While the cold water could quell his body's ache for her for a short while, he still missed her in a way he didn't think was possible. Dean had never been a romantic, in fact he could count on one hand the number of woman in his life that he had anything more than a passing attraction for, but with the Doc, it seemed different. He had no secrets from her, he could be completely who he was and take pride in what he did. She pretty much knew him warts and all and still she hadn't turned her back on him.
For Dean that was a completely new feeling. He didn't share much of himself often and he was the first to admit that he probably didn't share well, but that didn't mean that he didn't need to from time to time. In the past, either his father or Sam had been his sounding board, but with his father gone and Sam going through a change that Dean honestly couldn't comprehend, he felt like he was very much alone in the world.
That was why when the Doc had called him nearly a week ago, he had nearly leapt around for joy. The only problem was that he had made himself a vow, once made, he would never go back on, so he had watched the Doc's caller ID flash on his phone until, it changed to a missed called message. Then he had listened to her voice mail message over and over when Sam had been out getting them some food. She had asked him to call her, and he had been sorely tempted to, but he had resisted.
Since then, she had been persistent, sending him text messages and leaving messages on his voice mail nearly every day. Dean had kept that little fact from Sam as long as he could, but soon Sam figured it out. When that happened, it seemed that Dean's torture doubled. If not being able to answer the Doc wasn't bad enough, then listening to Sam raise his suspicions was pure hell.
Sam never pushed the issue, but every time Dean's phone would beep or ring, Sam would make a comment to the effect 'If she really cared for you, surely she would respect your wishes and stop calling ' or 'She's got to want something else from you if she is this insistent.'
Sometimes it hurt so badly that Dean had wanted to believe him. It would at least make leaving the Doc just that much more tolerable. More often than not he just ignored his brother and focused on the job.
Dean lathered up his hair with the cheap motel shampoo, ignoring the suds that slipped down his face and threatened to sting his eyes. Then he dropped his head under the shower spray and let the flow of water rinse away the suds, he turned his face into the spray again pushing the hair out of his eyes. Dean stood that way for a long while, wishing that the cleansing water would somehow wash away all of his doubt and confusion.
He climbed out of the shower, pulling a towel from the nearby rack. As he rubbed himself dry his couldn't help but notice the collection of scars that he was accumulating. The long slashing scar that Thammuz had given him on his chest, was still angry and red. He would have it for life, but somehow he could accept that as being par for the course in his line of work.
Idly he wondered what story he would have to come up with to explain it to his would be lovers, perhaps a car accident, or some noble act like saving a child from being trapped in a well or something. Dean ran the towel roughly over his head, shaking the water from his hair, then he wrapped the sodden towel around his waist and grabbing his discarded clothes he went back out into the darkened room.
Dean tossed his boxers and t-shirt on the bed and riffled through his duffle until he had a fresh change of clothes. He dressed quickly, rubbing his hair again with the towel. Then he returned the towel to the bathroom, cleaned his teeth and left his brother to sleep as he went out into the early morning bustle as the residents of Spokane all tried to get to work on time.
Dean slipped the keys from the pocket of his jacket and slid into the driver's seat of the pick up that the brother's had borrowed from Bobby. The Impala was too hot right now, so Sam had convinced Dean to leave it garaged at Bobby's cabin for a while. While Dean had agreed in principle, it just didn't feel right belting across the country in Bobby's pick up. He didn't get the same sense of comfort behind the wheel of the pick-up as he did when he drove the Impala. It was just one more thing in a long line of things that was upsetting Dean's sense of the universe.
Dean backed up and drove out of the Motel car park into the beginning of the peak hour traffic. As far as cities went, Spokane was prettier than most, with plush parklands and the river flowing through it. Dean had been able to glean from Sam that he believed that there was a conclave of demons centring in on the city, but as yet he hadn't given Dean any details beyond that, so Dean had spent his time, trolling through the local papers and watching the news reports on the television. If Sam was right and there were demons gathering in Spokane, it wouldn't be long before the carnage started and when it did, Dean and Sam would be there.
291 Days
Wakonda – South Dakota – 9:58am
Hannah looked up from the map that she was studying, wiping at her tired eyes in agitation. She had been driving since the break of dawn, and her eyes were now irritated and sore. Her head also ached dully but she was fairly certain that was from the energy of John Winchester, as he pulsed incessantly at the periphery of her consciousness, a thing he had done since she had detected him six days ago.
She had tried to contact Dean, she had rung and left messages, but he hadn't returned any of her attempts. After that had not worked Hannah had tried to reach out to Dean, connect with him in the same way that she had done weeks ago when he was in Reno, but she had been unable to. She had reached for him with every ounce of energy that she had, focussing in on him with a singular purpose, but instead of finding him, like she had been able to so easily in the past, she found nothing.
If Hannah had any doubts that the spirit of John Winchester was not on the level about his sons being in danger, her inability to link with Dean soon quelled all of those. Hannah began to fear for him. In the past anytime Hannah had a worry for Dean, she was able to slip into his mind like a gentle breeze and get a sense of how he was, she had done it with such ease that she almost took if for granted... until now.
Four days ago with her fear weighing on her like and anchor, she had packed her gear and jumped into Charlotte and hit the road. Hannah wasn't even sure where she was going. Her internal compass told her where books of power lay, but it wouldn't lead her to the Winchester brothers and without her connection to Dean she was all but riding blind.
John Winchester had given her a few possible locations to try, but the last three had been a bust, and Hannah was growing more and more frustrated. She felt like she had suddenly had her sight taken away and left in a world without direction or guidance.
Once again she smoothed the map over Charlotte's hood and tried to get her bearings, looking at the streets that intersected the small town of Wakonda. As she studied the map again, she was vaguely aware of the car that pulled up behind hers, she became aware of the sound of boots striking the pavement and she looked up to see two Highway Patrol officers walking towards her.
She stood straight smiling at them as she absently brushed the creases from her suit pants.
"Car trouble Ma'am?" asked one of the officers, his soft lilting accent curling his words into a gentle question.
"No" replied Hannah looking up at the man and then across at his partner who stood on the other side of Charlotte. "I'm just a little lost."
"I take it you're not a local?" said the other patrol man, and Hannah watched as his mouth broke into a crocked grin.
"However could you tell?" replied Hannah, making her own accent thicker as she spoke. One thing that she had learnt in her travels was to never alienate the people that could potentially help you.
"Where are you headed?" replied the first patrol man glancing down at the map on Charlotte's hood.
"I'm going to the Angostura Reservoir and I'm just trying to figure out the fastest route." She said, pointing to a spot on the map.
"Hell, that's clear on the other side of the state" said the first patrolman looking at the expanse on the map.
"You got someone driving with you or are you doing this alone?"
Hannah looked up at the second patrolman who had stepped off of the curb and was also looking at the map. For a brief moment Hannah was tempted to say that she wasn't travelling alone, but she didn't think the dead spirit of the father of a friend of hers counted as a travel companion.
"No, it's just me." she said with a subtle shrug and a smile.
The patrolman smiled back at her "Well if those Rhode Island plates are anything to go off then it looks to me like you don't find distance a problem."
Hannah smiled but said nothing; there was something about knowing how much the patrolman had observed that unnerved her slightly.
The first patrolman tilted his head from left to right as if he was weighing up options and then her nodded to himself as if he had come to some great epiphany.
"I reckon your best bet is to get on to the 46 and follow that all the way through to Pickston. Then on the other side of the river if you get on the 18 and just stick like glue to that you should be fine, what do you think Mike?"
The second patrolman followed his partner's finger on the map and nodded in agreement.
"It will take you a little further south than you'd probably expected to go, but if you stay on the 18 then you should be fine and there will be plenty of places along the way where you can stop for gas or put up for the night."
Hannah smiled at the two patrol men following the thick yellow line across the map with her eyes.
"Gentlemen that sounds a lot like a plan to me. Now all I have to do is find my way to the 46 and I should be fine."
"Why don't you follow us Ma'am, where heading up to the Highway now. We'll be headed in the other direction when we get there, but it will at least take one obstacle out of your journey." The young patrol men both smiled at her and she couldn't help but note how pleasant they both were.
More and more often these days, Hannah started to realise that there were so many good and decent people on the earth that deserved to live there life in peace. If Sam and Dean couldn't stop the demon hordes, then a lot of these people would be the ones to suffer.
"Thank you. I really appreciate your help" said Hannah almost solemnly as she held out her hands to the two men who had stopped to help. As she took each of their hands and shook them in turn, she prayed that they would be left unscathed by what lay ahead.
The two patrolmen went back to their squad car as Hannah folded up the map and slid in behind Charlotte's wheel. She waited for the squad car to pull out and then followed the two patrolmen through the small neighbourly streets of Wakonda. A few minutes later the patrol car pulled up to a T junction, where the Highway sign was clear.
Hannah pulled up next to them, indicating in the opposite direction. She wound down the window and paused a moment before taking off.
"Thanks again for your help." She said with a subtle wave.
"Take care Ma'am" said the patrolman in the passengers seat "Drive safe."
With that Hannah turned on to the highway and watched in the rear view mirror as the patrol car headed in the opposite direction. Hannah waited until they were well out of sight and then opened Charlotte up, allowing the powerful engine to pull her down the road. She had a lot of distance to cover and she knew that she was running out of time.