Any Place Put Here Chapter 1, a supernatural fanfic

Disclaimer - I own no part of Supernatural or it's characters - I only own my O/C and my original song.

I sighed as I helped my brother set up the small stage and yet another off-the-main-track roadhouse bar.

This one looked rougher than normal, so I tried to stay within an arm's reach of my brother as much as

possible.

For more years than I cared to add up, my older brother and I had been performing country music across

the country, taking paying gigs wherever we could get them. Our dad left us when we were really

young, and we grew up in the bars where our mom worked. The various bands that would come

through taught us both how to play guitar and gave us our love for country music.

Mom passed away when I was barely 18. My brother and I had nowhere to go, so we thought we'd

head to Nashville to hit the big time right away, become famous and make our fortune. Then reality set

in. It's not how good you are, it's who you know in the business to help you get to that next step.

So here we were, at yet another dimly lit bar, setting up for a gig that barely paid us enough to cover our

next few day's expenses. But money is money, and we were glad of it.

"Lacy, I'm just running out to the van to get the last bit of equipment. Could you set up the mic stands?"

my brother Brad asked me.

"Sure – I'll have everything ready for when you get back in."

I watched him walk out, and quickly looked around. The few people sitting around drinking looked

harmless so I pulled out the stands and got both set up along with the one music stand we shared. I

looked down at my watch, and realized I hadn't seen Brad come back in yet. I jumped off the stage, and

walked out to the back door to where our van was sitting with the door open.

"Brad?" I looked around for my brother but couldn't find him. I did find a little bit of blood at the door,

and got nervous.

"Brad?"

"Laaaccy?" I heard my brother's voice coming from the side of the building. I ran over to find him

leaning against the building holding his hand to his face, looking a little pale.

"Oh my god Brad –are you ok? What happened?"

My brother looked down at me and smiled. "I'm ok – just had someone express their opinion towards

country music is all."

I chuckled, then we walked back over to the van, got out the last of the gear, and went back in to finish

setting up.

A few nights later, the crowd filled in the small roadhouse, and I listened to the sounds of room getting

full. I took a final look in the mirror that hung in the back room, which I used as a makeshift dressing

room. I fluffed my long blonde hair one last time, and double checked my makeup. My blue eyes stared

back at me, eye liner and mascara making them look larger than they normally are. My usual clothes are

jeans and a t'shirt, but I always made sure to make an impression when we hit the stage. My skirts were

a little shorter than I'd like, but tips came a little quicker the shorter the skirt was.

We were in the middle of our set, and one patron was getting a little too close for my comfort. That's

the joy of the job, when you sing songs about cheating, drinking and making love for a living, people

tend to think that is who you are. And as the liquor flows, sometimes the men in the audience think I'd

love nothing better than to meet up with them for the evening. I might be in the entertainment

business, but not THAT kind of entertainment.

Normally my brother and I just brush of that kind of advance, but for some reason that night my brother

got really angry. He stopped playing guitar and jumped off the stage and grabbed the guy who'd been

trying to run his hands up my legs. I was shocked as normally my brother would just look at me, and if I

shook my head no, he'd just ignore it.

My brother drew back his arm to hit him, when two men came running over to pull him off the man

who'd tried to grab me. I put my guitar done, and hopped off the stage as the two men struggled to

hold my brother back.

"Let me go! Who the hell are you to stop me from kicking this guy's ass!" Brad yelled.

I got in front of him and grabbed his face with my hands. "Brad – calm down! It wasn't that big of a

deal!"

"Not that big a deal?" he yelled back at me. "He was running his hands all over you!"

"Brad – seriously, get a grip. He barely touched me and I was dealing with it. What is wrong with you?"

My brother was starting to calm down, and the two men holding him slowly released their grip on his

arms.

I looked at the two of them, both were fairly tall, the older looking one just over 6' with amazing green

eyes, and the younger one with longer hair, but he had to be around 6'4"! I never like to think of myself

as short, but when you are only 5'5", men that tall remind me of my vertical challenge!

Brad looked at me, and smiled. "Sorry sis – I just get so tired of these guys thinking you are an easy lay."

I was shocked – my brother never ever talked like that. I watched as he made his way back up on to the

stage. I turned back to the two strangers to thank them. I once again noticed how handsome the older

man was. The younger one was too, but I have to admit that of the two men, I was having a harder time

stopping from staring at the older one.

"Thank you both so much. I just don't know why my brother reacted like that. He's usually so easy

going. He got mugged earlier this week when we first got to town and I think it upset him than he wants

to admit".

The two men looked at each at my comments, then the older one looked back to me.

"No problem – was glad to be of service. Wasn't sure how bad he was going to hurt that guy as your

brother had a weird look in his eyes. My name is Dean, and this is my brother Sam."

I smiled at them both, with an extra wink for Dean. "Seriously, thank you. I don't need to try and bail

my brother out of some small town police station. We barely make any money doing this, and I'm not

sure if my brother hurt a local, I'd be able to get him free. With my luck, he'd be the Sheriff's cousin or

something!"

They both laughed, and the younger one (Sam – that's what his brother had called him) walked back to

the bar. Dean walked me back to the stage and held my hand, giving me balance to get back on stage. I

looked down at him and smiled again.

I picked my guitar back up and got ready to continue with the set. I looked to my left to smile at my

brother when I saw him glaring at me.

"Do you have to try and pick up every man in these bars? Geesh Lacy, let's just get this show over with."

I honestly thought my jaw had hit the ground. My sweet brother had never talked to me like that.

Trying to keep the tears from falling, I looked out away from the stage to the audience. Not everyone

was listening to the music, but I'd give them the best performance I could, even though I was more

going through the motions. My head was racing with thoughts as to what was wrong with my brother.

Did he hit his head when he was attacked earlier this week? Maybe he had a concussion. I decided that

later tonight when the show was over, I was going to find out where the nearest medical facility was and

he was going to get checked over, whether he liked it or not. He'd been going off by himself a lot this

week, which was unusual, but I had written it off to cabin fever.

I forced a smile out across the room and we picked up where we left off.

"All right everyone. Hope you're enjoying the show so far…" There were snickers at the back of the

room at that comment.

I started again "Here's a song that my brother and I wrote together. We hope you like it."

I sang out to the room, but my eyes kept straying over to the two brothers leaning against the bar. The

older brother's eyes were staring straight at me the whole time which while flattering, was a little

unnerving. There was something very old in his eyes that I couldn't quite place.

I reminded myself to concentrate as this was a new song and with my brother a strange mood I didn't

want to mess up the words.

I made it through the first verse and chorus and started to relax as I began the second verse.

"Put some fuel in my beat up Chevrolet…" Dean looked over at his brother and they chuckled.

"Two hundred bucks got me to the coast in two days

They say it's raining on the island, but that seems fine

I just gotta get away, and get some quiet time

Any place but here, that's where I'm gone

Any place but here, get away from home

Any place but here, gotta get away

Any place but here, that's where I wanna be today

Any place but here"

We finished up the third verse and final chorus, and the audience cheered. It is always an amazing

feeling when people like the original songs we perform.

A few hours later we were done for the night. We cleaned up what we could from the stage, and locked

up our more expensive gear in the manager's office for the night. We had only one more show we'd be

performing at this location.

I walked over to the bar, and grabbed a towel to wipe the sweat off my forehead. That was one of the

downsides of singing on stage – those hot lights are killer especially in the summer time.

I was just about to call the bartender over to order a drink, when an icy cold glass of beer was placed in

front of me. I turned to my left to find two green eyes smiling down at me.

"Thought you'd like a drink – singing that long I figured your throat would be dry."

I chuckled "I usually down a big glass of water, but what the heck – this looks refreshing too."

He laughed as I took a sip from the glass.

"Hey – I really loved your show. You guys have great harmonies together and I really like that you put

some original music in there as well. That one song about the Chevy was the best, but I'm kind of

biased. I'm not a big fan of country music but your singing could convert me" he said with a smile.

I smiled at him "I take it you're a Chevy man?"

"1967 Impala parked just outside the door"

I was a little surprised at that, as I had him pegged as a pickup truck kind of guy. I looked down at his

hands and noticed his knuckles were pretty scarred up. He caught me looking and chuckled, rubbing

one hand with the other. "I know – I'm a little beat up, but you know what they say – chicks dig scars." I

laughed and went to reply but I got pulled off my chair.

"What the…"

"Lacy – what did I say earlier? Quit acting like a whore!"