So! Let's see.
This is the third in what I'm calling the Quantum Series. I rock at names. It's a MESH of CANON and my AU (see what I did there), picking up where Quantum AU and Snippets left off. If you haven't read Quantum AU or Snippets...you probably should. If you check my profile, there is a vague description of those stories.
This story will be told by both Canon Sam and AU Kate.
By the way...if you are not familiar with my You Are The Third Winchester AU (still a shitty name…), please check my profile. Those of you who want to know where this story fits in that AU timeline...well, it's the most recent.
If you're thinking, "Aw shit, I hate me an AU and especially a sibling fic"...I say...give mine a try. They've surprised many a reader.
Disclaimer for this WHOLE story: I own nothing related to this show. I just play with other people's toys.
Enough rambling.
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Sam...
Sam slowly spun in circles, trying to get his bearings without flipping the fuck out. "Where are we?" He spoke barely above a whisper, one hand running through his hair, nervous energy that'd built for almost six months churning for release.
"Where...when...all very good questions."
Sam tossed a sour look over his shoulder, dropping the arm to his side.
Crowley grimaced. "I'm not sure, but it looks like we're in a park."
Sam's sour look increased tenfold, escalating to a patented bitchface.
Hands splayed before him, Crowley protested. "What do you want me to say? Like you, I just got here. The spell didn't come with a travel brochure."
"One would think curing you meant an improved demeanor."
"One would think. Luckily, my endearing personality prevailed."
Sam snorted, running the fingers of his uninjured arm across the rough stubble blanketing his chin. Yes, they were in a park. But where? And why? With a sigh, he turned. "There's a sign…" He made his way to a wooden post, topped with a small plaque. When he finished reading it, he shook his head and laughed. "I don't fucking believe it," he murmured.
"What? What's it say?" Crowley stepped to his side, raising his eyebrows as Sam gestured at it. "What could possibly be...Oh. Okay. Deansville Park. Ha. Ha. Haha." He sighed heavily, looking around. "No one's here, but something doesn't feel right."
Sam's eyes sharpened, and he reached for a weapon. "What do you mean?"
Crowley shook his head, lips pursed. "Not sure. Her blood spilled here. That much is certain. What I'm not sure of, is...hmmmm…" His voice trailed off, his face pensive.
"Crowley?"
Squinting, Crowley slowly stepped away from the sign, nodding his head at a path leading into the woods. "This way."
Curious, Sam followed Crowley, both demon knife and gun drawn and ready. Crowley glanced over his shoulder. "I sense angelic action, Moose. Those won't be helpful."
Sam grimaced, tucking the demon knife away and awkwardly drawing an angel blade, his cast catching on the fabric of his shirt. "Lead the way."
They walked carefully, eyes everywhere. Sam could feel it - something not right was definitely in the wind, forcing nerves beyond their breaking point to strain even further. Every step matched a ragged breath, forced through his mouth, in an effort to keep up with the hammering in his chest.
The trees swayed gently in a cool breeze, while the sun still provided a decent amount of light. The path, canopied by autumn colored leaves, abruptly ended in a small clearing.
Crowley pointed at a tree. "There." Hurrying over, he knelt, examining the trunk. Bark appeared to have been stripped, as if someone slid down it, landing in a flattened spot at the base.
"There's no blood," Sam argued.
"There's no blood now, but there was. You just can't see it. Someone or something was screwing around here. I'm not sure what happened, but I can sense it. She bled on this tree." He stood, dusting flecks of bark off his hands, and looked around. "It's been a few weeks, but the residue is still…" He gestured with his hand. "...lingering."
A few weeks? They just locked on it five minutes ago.
Questions churned.
How much blood did she lose? How hurt was she? Was she even okay? Sam adjusted his grip on the blade, unsuccessfully trying not to dwell on what happened to her. The priority was getting to Dean, which was still a long ways off.
But...getting to Kate was tangible, much more imminent, and absolutely crucial as well. He clung to the knowledge that she was close...and it fueled him forward.
Sam swallowed hard. "Alright. But, no danger now, right?"
Crowley shook his head.
His heartbeat began to settle. Somewhat. "And Kate's not here?"
Again, Crowley shook his head, sighing.
He knew she wouldn't be there, but that didn't stop the stab of disappointment running through him. Clenching his jaw, Sam stowed the weapons. "Then let's get out of here and find a ride to Sioux Falls."
xxxxx
There were hardly any cars in the nearest lot, and the ones that were there were all spread out, making a covert theft nearly impossible. If anyone walked by, they'd know what he was up to.
So, Sam stood staring, shifting his backpack from one shoulder to the other, trying to decide which car to steal. None of them were remotely like Baby, so Sam's ability to choose fled the building. After a minute, Crowley sighed, nudging Sam forward. "Always choose foreign, Sam." With purposeful strides, Crowley was at a Toyota in seconds, laying a hand on the frame and smiling when the doors unlocked and the engine purred to life.
It took a moment for Crowley's words to register, not to mention his solution to the covert auto theft problem. Sam was preoccupied as rapid fire memories of Dean, commenting on cars, particularly his disdain for not buying American, flashed through his mind. He brought a trembling hand to his mouth, pulling at his chin a little as he fought to regain control of the emotions threatening to spill forth in a stupid, fucking parking lot.
With a casual, practiced, eyeball sweep of the lot, both men climbed inside. After a quick apology to Baby, Sam drove them through the gates, tossing his phone at Crowley. "I know we're in Wisconsin, and I know the general direction to Bobby's, but I'm not sure on specifics. Would you look it up? His address is - "
In a soft voice, Crowley interrupted. "I'm familiar with the address, Sam. It's okay - I'll take care of it."
Sam opened his mouth, only to immediately close it, choosing to simply nod instead. Since the third trial, Crowley's invaluable assistance had been unwavering. His genuine repentance was no longer something Sam needed to get used to - it just was. Without his help, Sam would never have gotten this far, and he desperately needed to be even further.
Still...
It was moments like this...when Sam had to recall why Crowley already knew Bobby's address...that it was weird.
Really fucking weird.
Sam chewed the inside of a cheek, one of the many nervous tics acquired since Dean's absence, to steady his nerves. Both sides of his mouth swelled with uneven lumps from the near constant gnawing.
The headaches were another story. The incessant thrumming or the sporadic icepick jabs were everyday occurrences, sometimes blinding him with their intensity. It was okay, though, because Sam barely felt anything else, including the sores in his mouth, the broken bone under the cast, or the dozen other ways his body was falling apart from stress.
Physical white noise.
As Crowley deftly swiped his fingers across the screen, entering information so the phone would connect to a satellite, he casually intoned, "You're doing it again."
Sam shifted in his seat. "Doing what?"
Crowley paused, glancing up, mimicking Sam's bitchface. "Really?"
Sam huffed. "Just find me a road." He didn't mean to sound gruff. He never did. But that was how he sounded now, all the time.
He couldn't help it.
"I am," Crowley replied, unfazed, as usual, by Sam's tone. "But honestly, if you don't take it easy - "
"I'll take it easy when Dean is safe."
" - you'll drop before that can happen." Crowley's eyes returned to the phone. "She'll make you see reason," he murmured.
"She'll be as ramped up as I am."
Crowley tilted his head from side to side, acquiescing. "True, but she'll take care of you. And you need that." He paused. "Badly."
Sam let out a breath. It was an old conversation he'd had with Kevin and Charlie, too. He knew he was running on fumes. Fumes of fumes. But Dean was gone, and he wasn't going to stop looking. Not this time. "So, which road?"
Crowley sighed. "Take I-90 West…"