Sam and Dean
"Damn it, Sammy!" Dean Winchester ran his hand through his golden-brown hair, looking at his so-called little brother. Sam Winchester was grinning from ear to ear and locked his brown eyes with his brother's green ones.
"Where. Are. The. Keys?" Dean's black 1967 Chevy Impala was gleaming in the October sun outside the cheap motel room off Highway 34 in Hastings, Nebraska.
"I told you, I gave them to you last night after I went and got the burgers." Sam stood up, looked at the clock and stretched. It was almost 7:30 in the morning. At 16, Sam was 6'2, verging 6'3, whereas Dean was 20 and had to look slightly up to his younger brother.
"Dad will kill me if I lost the keys. He's three states away searching for a…"
"Yeah, Dean. I know. Relax, look under your bed or something, they have to be here somewhere."
Dean took his beat up leather jacket off and threw it on his bed then got on his stomach and looked. "There's nothing down here but an old condom wrapper and some pennies." Sam rolled his eyes.
"Well, hurry and find them. I need to be at this new school soon." Dean rolled over and looked up at Sam, disbelieving his ears.
"School? You know Bobby sent us here for a reason, right? We've got work to do."
"Yeah, Dean, and it can wait until I'm done with school."
"Sammy," Dean started.
"Stop, I've told you. Sammy was some chunky twelve year old. It's Sam."
Dean stood up and held his hands up like a man surrendering to the police. "You go it, Saaaam." Again, Sam rolled his eyes. Being on the road with Dean was fine, when their father was around to control him. John knew how to keep Dean in line, even though Dean was old enough to be on his own. Sam was a little bit harder to handle. Sam grew up on the road; nothing solid to hold on to besides the Impala, Dean, John and Uncle Bobby on occasion.
Sam's mother had been killed when he was just six months old by a demon. A real demon from Hell. The boys were told this from a young age and John began training them to fight. Most men out of the Marines become civilians, members of society. John Winchester, on the other hand, became a hunter of supernatural beings; ghosts, demons, things of legends that most people were told were fake by the time they were seven or eight. The Winchester boys knew different. They knew all too well those things were real.
"Sam, there's a ghost in this town. We need to do research for dad."
"Well, you can do research. I'm going to school." Sam walked into the bathroom, grabbed the keys off the sink, shook them at Dean and attempted to walk out the door.
"No you don't. One, you knew they were there the whole time? And two," Dean continued when Sam nodded. "Bobby asked us to do this for Dad."
"No Dean, he asked you." Sam tried to push Dean out of the way, but Dean grabbed both of Sam's arms before he could touch him (Dean) and pinned Sam against the wall with his arms behind his back.
"Ow! Damn it Dean!"
"Aw, wittle Sammy can't use big boy words like that!" Sam pushed Dean off and narrowed his eyes at Dean.
"Dude, I'm sorry but I want more than this. I don't want to be a hunter my whole life." Dean looked at Sam as though he was seeing him for the first time.
"You want to leave the family business? Sam, this is our lives."
"Dean, I just want to be normal. Normal sixteen year olds go to school." Sam picked up the keys he had dropped during the fight. Dean was holding out his hand.
"The burger joint up the street is one thing. You're not driving my baby all the way to the school." Sam tried not to grin. Dean practically worshipped that car after their father had given it to him as a birthday present in January.
"Plus, when we came into town I saw that the public library just by the school. I'll be there." Dean grabbed the keys out of Sam's hand and headed out the door, yelling "Come on, bitch!" as he did so.
"Jerk!" Sam yelled back as he grabbed his backpack from under his bed, walked out and closed the door tight behind him. Dean was already in the Impala, cranking up some Led Zepplin song that they had listened to about 300 times form Indiana, where John still was, and Nebraska. Sam opened the door and the car squealed as he got into the passenger seat.
"We need to go otherwise I'll be late."
"Yes, Mr. Punctual." The car roared to life and the brothers took off down the road. About 15 minutes later, Dean parked the car right in front of the school.
"Alright, Samuel. Do you need lunch money or anything?" Dean had sarcasm in his voice, but he was being serious. Dean had been looking after Sam since he (Sam) was six months old.
"No, I kept the change from the burgers last night." Sam grinned at Dean and Dean grinned back.
"You son of a bitch. Now go to school. Be a good boy." Sam jokingly blew a kiss at Dean. Dean reached over to ruffle Sam's shaggy brown hair. Sam pulled away, got out of the car and looked at his school for the week, maybe more if the vampire nest John was hunting took longer than expected. The ghost would be an easy job; hell Dean could probably do it by himself. Sam waved at Dean and Dean took off in the Impala, making sure to make as much noise as possible. Sam took a deep breath, and walked up the massive stairs to the high school.
Dean
Dean pulled into the small library and looked at the stone lions flanking the stairs.
'Oh God, Dad really wants me here?" Dean thought. But Dean would do anything to help out John. Dean was John's little solider and Sam was the rebel.
'Who the hell does Sam think he is?' Dean's thoughts were racing as he walked up the steps and jammed the keys to the Impala into his father's old leather jacket. As he opened the door to the library, the young female library looked up at him. Dean smiled at her and swaggered up to the counter.
"Hi, my name's Dean Adams. My family was from around here and I'm doing a report for a class of mine."
"Oh," behind her glasses, her blue eyes looked Dean up and down. "The records are over there." She pointed to the Northwest corner of the library.
Dean smiled again, "Thanks, doll." He winked and walked to where she was pointing.
Dean looked for anything that could cause a ghost: weird deaths, deaths along the interstate, unjust killings. "…left the family farm in 1868, came back in…" Dean couldn't read the rest of Jerry Toolman's biography. It reminded him of his conversation with Sam earlier.
'Why would he want to leave? So he could pretend to be a normal kid? Or would he pretend that he doesn't know what's out there? What if he gets married? What if he has kids? What if what had killed Mom came after them? But what if you're wrong?' Another voice in Dean's head asked. 'What if Sammy can have a normal life? What if he marries a gorgeous girl and they have amazing kids? Uncle Dean and Grandpa could visit if there was case somewhere close, maybe even get Sam's help if they needed it. Sammy the soccer dad.'
Then another thought occurred to Dean. 'If Sam could do it, why can't I? I could go back to Lawrence, become a mechanic like dad was.' Dean was so lost in thought that he nearly jumped when the librarian came up to talk to him.
"Mr. Adams? Are you finding everything okay?"
"Why yes, I am. Call me Dean, by the way." The librarian finally returned one of Dean's smiles.
"Okay, Dean. What did you say you needed this for again?"
"Oh, a school project. History class at the community college." Truth is, Dean didn't even know if there was a community college close by.
"Oh, so you're a student? At the community college?" Dean took that as a yes. She bent over the book Dean had been looking at, but now he was more focused on her low cut shirt.
"You know, I don't think this is the right book for you. The book you want is this way." She grabbed Dean's hand, pulled him out of his chair and pulled him towards a completely different part of the library. Dean then remembered why it was nice to be able to move around the way they did.
Sam
Sam walked into the principal's office at 7:57 AM, and waited for the principal to get there. His secretary said that Mr. Cooper should be in soon. Sam looked at all the pictures and degrees framed on the wall. One was an educational degree from Stanford; the other was a masters, also from Stanford.
"Sam Winchester?" Sam stood up at the sound of his name and offered his hand to the beer bellied, balding man. Mr. Cooper took and shook Sam's hand.
"Yes, sir."
"Says here this is your fifth high school and you're only a junior?"
Sam nodded, "Yes, sir, My dad's a Marine, we move around a lot. This time he sent my brother and I ahead. He's got some loose ends to tie up." Mr. Cooper nodded and John's voice was saying the words with Sam as he recited the words that were used almost every time somebody asked about their dad.
"Fifth school, straight As in all of them. Sounds like you're a hard worker." Sam looked down and smiled, it was weird hearing complements from somebody.
"Yes, sir I try."
"Good, you should fit in here no problem." Mr. Cooper handed Sam a schedule.
"This is your class list. You're due in Mrs. Smith's U.S. History class about three minutes ago." Mr. Cooper smiled and offered his hand to Sam. Sam stood up, shook Mr. Cooper's hand and smiled.
"Thank you, sir."
"I hope you enjoy yourself here, Sam." Sam walked out of the office and wandered around the halls until he saw Mrs. Smith's classroom. He opened the door, already late, expecting for her to be in mid-lecture.
"Ah, Mr. Winchester, so happy you could join us. We were waiting." Mrs. Smith was an elderly woman with white hair tied into a bun and thick bifocals.
"Sorry, ma'am. I was in Mr. Cooper's office."
"Not at all, dear. Class? This is Sam Winchester. He will be joining us. Now, Sam, please take your seat next to Miss Rhodes."
A shy, but cute girl with black hair and brown eyes looked up at what Sam assumed was her name. Sam took the seat next to her.
"Hi, I'm Sam."
"So I heard." She flashed a smile. "I'm Heather."
"Well, Heather, what class do you have after this?" Just as Heather opened her mouth to answer, Mrs. Smith started her lecture.
"Who invaded the Rhineland, breaking the Treaty of Versailles?" Sam raised his hand, since it didn't look like anybody else was going to.
"Oh, um, yes, Mr. Winchester? Did you have a question?"
"Oh, no ma'am, I was going to answer your question."
"Oh!" Mrs. Smith looked slightly taken back. "Well, by all means."
"Adolf Hitler and the Germans."
"Very good! I was told you were smart Sam." This was the first time in his life Sam wished he wasn't as tall as he was. The entire class (except maybe Heather) stared at Sam with a loathing that Dean usually reserved for when John said that Sam could sit in the front seat. As Mrs. Smith continued her lecture, Sam just tried to blend in and knew he was in for a rough day. The highlight was though that Heather had been in three of his classes, and his lunch period.
Sam and Dean
Sam was waiting on the stone steps outside of the high school, waiting for Dean to come pick him up. He must not have found anything good, since Sam didn't get called into the principal's office with a phone call from his 'father' saying that there was something wrong with 'grandpa'. That was their code from when the boys were very young. Truth was they never knew either set of their grandparents, although they were named after Mary's parents (Deanna and Samuel).
'What if Dean tells Dad about what I said this morning? I mean, yeah I meant it all, but I didn't want Dean to know that.' Sam never wanted to disappoint Dean. John was one thing; Sam was pretty sure that John blamed him for Mary dying since the demon was in his nursery. Sam had felt like he was disappointing his dad as long as he could remember. Dean, on the other hand, had always been there for Sam. In some cases, Dean was a better father than John was.
After a few minutes of thinking, Sam heard that same damn song and the squealing of the tires of the Impala.
"Hey, Sammy! Let's go!" Dean yelled, getting looks from all the girls that were standing around on the lawn. Dean was pretending not to notice them, but there was a hot blonde in a jean jacket that Dean winked at.
"She's only 16." Sam said in a dead voice. Dean's smile faded and he cleared his throat as the he started to speed out of the parking lot.
"So how was school?"
"Fine, met a girl, had lunch with her."
"Cute?" Sam rolled his eyes, pretty much all Dean cared about were looks.
"How was the library?" Sam tried changing the subject, and Dean took the hint. Dean's smile came back.
"Oh I had a blast."
"Good, so you figured it out right?"
"Huh? Oh, well I narrowed it down to two people, most likely."
"Great! And the librarian?"
"You mean Cindy?"
"Cindy? Really? Bobby sends us here for a job and you sleep with the librarian?"
"It was like a porno, Sammy."
"Too much, and quit with the Sammy."
"Well, we can either talk about the ghosts or the sexy librarian."
"The ghosts please." Dean rolled his eyes. Sam never wanted to talk about fun stuff.
"Well, Karen Ebienhaus died in 1809, killed by her husband for pretty much no reason. Then there was Donald Gleason. Died on the highway, nobody knows who, or what, did it."
"What about the victims?"
"What about them?"
"Any connections?"
"Oh, yeah." Dean pulled into the motel parking lot, got out of the car, walked into the room and flopped on his bed. Sam grabbed his backpack, followed Dean inside and stared at him. Sam slammed the door and, when Dean still didn't try and continue the conversation, threw his backpack at his older brother, hitting him square in the back.
"Ow! For fuck's sake, Sam!"
"Hello! The victims?"
"I was getting there! We're not just gonna talk about dead people in the middle of the parking lot are we?" That thought hadn't occurred to Sam.
"Sorry Dean, now about the vics?"
"No! I want a massage!"
"Screw you."
"Cindy already took care of that thank you very much." Dean rolled over and flashed a smile at Sam. Sam tried not to smile back.
"All the victims were school teachers. Married, female school teachers."
"So, Ebienhaus was a school teacher?"
"You got it. Well, until she got married."
"Right, because teachers…"
"Couldn't get married back then. Yeah, I know." Dean cut Sam off. Dean loved his younger brother but hated when he would try and act smarter than him (Dean). Of course, Sam was smarter. He was the brain, whereas Dean was pure brawn. Sam could honestly become both if he stayed. Sam was babbling about going back to the house where Ebinhaus was killed, or the school she taught at, blah blah blah. Dean hesitated, and then said
"Sammy?" Sam shot Dean a hard look. "Sorry, Sam, were you serious this morning? About leaving?" It was Sam's turn to hesitate, and Dean had his answer.
"Sammy, you can't leave. This is a family business. Do you know what that means? It means family."
"Family business?" Sam suppressed a scoff. "We fight monsters, Dean. What the hell kind of family business is that? Do you know what most families do for family businesses? They fix cars, they run law offices, they…"
"And how many of them had one of their own killed by a demon?" Dean didn't mean to be, but he was shouting. Sam recoiled slightly. Dean turned away to try and wipe the tears away.
"Dean," Sam almost whispered.
"No, Sam. You listen." Dean turned back towards Sam, tears be damned. "I was a four year old kid. I was barely allowed to look at you, let alone hold you. Dad puts you in my arms and tells me to run out of the house. Do you even know how terrifying that is?" Dean's voice broke as he sat on his bed and buried his face in his hands.
Sam had never seen Dean break down like that, mainly because Dean had hidden all of his meltdowns from Sam. Sam sat on his own bed and watched his brother. Dean's shoulders moved up and down but no sound came out of him. After some time, Dean finally looked up, his eyes red, and looked at Sam.
"Family is everything Sammy."
"Yeah, I know Dean."
"Just, keep that in mind, okay?" Sam slowly nodded. Dean cleared his throat, stood up, walked into the bathroom and shut the door. Sam really didn't know what to do. He had never seen Dean so exposed. Dean was the one that shrugged off any kind of emotion with sarcasm. When the water in the bathroom started running, Sam decided to get started on his homework, hoping it would take his mind off the mother that he never knew.
Meanwhile, in the shower, Dean Winchester's eyes began to tear up again. Mary had always told Dean that angels were watching over him, but that was getting harder for Dean to believe. Dad was on the run most of the time, Dean had been taking care of Sammy since Sam was six months old and he had barely gotten his GED. If angels did exist, they weren't watching over him.
Dean
"Yeah, Dad I know, but Sam and I can…"
"Dean, don't do anything other than get me the name. You and Sam can't handle this on your own yet."
"Dad, I'm twenty years old. Sam is sixteen. I think we can handle a ghost." John Winchester sighed into the phone and replied
"Dean, I'm two days away from getting this vamp nest and then I will come and take care of it. If Bobby didn't have that shapeshifter to hunt I would've had him do it." John's tone was irritated. Dean felt defeated, but kept his true plans to himself.
"Yeah, alright Dad."
"Is Sam there?"
"No, he's in school. He…"
"Good, that's where he should be. So do you have a name for me?"
"Yeah, I've got pretty much all the information you'll need."
"Good, I'll want to know as soon as I get there. I'll need something easy after this nest. They're smart."
"Is it just you, Dad?"
"No, old hunting buddy is helping me. The one that called me about it."
"How many are there?" Dean had the heroic image of John in his head again, the one that he made Sam believe for a little while.
"About ten, maybe more."
"I wish I was there to help you, Dad."
"I know, but you need to watch out for Sammy." Dean rolled his eyes.
"Dad, Sam can take care of himself."
"Dean, don't argue with me please?" John's voice was exhausted now.
"Okay, I'll let you get some sleep then."
"Okay, bye Dean." Click. Beep. Dean knew his dad had hung up the phone, not waiting for a 'bye, Dad" or an "I love you". Not that John said the latter very often, rarely actually, but it wouldn't have killed Dean to hear it. Actually, Dean wanted to hear it, not that he would tell anybody that, Sammy included. Dean hung up the motel room phone and lied back on his bed. He wondered how Sam's day was going.
At least today was Friday, which meant Dean was going to be able to just hang out with Sam all weekend. The two of them could get some beers (Dean was sure one of his IDs said that he was 21), watch football, just hang out, and hopefully forget about the other night.
The brothers hadn't talked about it at all, and Dean was fine with that, he just hated the way that Sam was looking at him like he was a ticking time bomb. Dean was just overwhelmed that night. Sam said he wanted to leave, it was almost the anniversary of Mary's death, John was still gone and this damn ghost job could be done if John would just let Dean handle it. Dean knew he and Sam could find the ghost and send it back to hell. Dean hadn't run the idea by Sam yet, but Sam wouldn't have much of a choice.
Dean wanted Sam to realize what he was leaving. It sounded crazy, but Sam needed to know that these things were serious and they came after innocent people for no reason. The sons of John Winchester were far from innocent and everything supernatural had reasons for coming after them. Sam needed to know that they won't stop just because he leaves the family business. He needed to be prepared.
Sam
Sam could tell that Dean was up to something. He said they were just going to buy some beer, watch football and just hang out on the Saturday afternoon. Sam as a little confused as to why he had to go. He had three essays to write and a test to study for.
His week at Madison had been rough, but it got better on Thursday afternoon when Heather's brother, who was on the basketball team, sat with Sam and Heather at lunch. After that, the guys in Sam's math class seemed to be nicer to him. Sam was hoping to ask Heather out, but he never had the courage to just ask. She had given him her number yesterday afternoon and Sam was going to call her as soon as he got home from this ridiculously long beer run.
Sam was never one that was smooth with the girls. That was Dean's department. Every school Dean went to he had a girl on his arm after about five minutes. Sam's thoughts were still on Heather when Dean came to a sudden stop. Sam almost crashed into the dashboard.
"Dean! What the hell?" Sam banged his hand on the dashboard.
"Whoa!" Dean rubbed his side of the dash and almost cooed to the car. "It's okay, baby. The mean man is just a bitch." Sam scoffed.
"You seriously treat this car better than any woman you've been with."
"Well, yeah. Women come and go, Sammy, but cars last forever if you treat them right." Sam had decided to let the Sammy thing drop since the other night. If Dean needed to hold on to the image of Sam as a kid that was still naive and needed protecting, fine.
"Anyway, we're here." Sam looked out his window and saw an old abandoned house.
"Um…Dean?" Dean was grinning.
"This is where Mr. and Mrs. Ebinhaus spent their lives, and eventually their deaths, together."
"Dean, we can't go in there! This is craziness."
"Sammy, we can handle this. Come on, let's just go take a look."
"What if the ghost is in there, Dean? We need guns and salt and EMF meters, the list goes on." Sam wasn't sure if the smile on Dean's face could get bigger, but it did. He got out of the car and a confused Sam followed. Dean was opening the trunk and then took a step back.
"Pick your poison." Sam looked into the trunk and was surprised. There was salt, salt shells, shotguns, pistols, EMF meters, holy water, everything a hunter needed and then some.
Sam was shocked and asked, "Dean, where did you get this?"
"Do you remember Mike Fermont? Dad's buddy, but they had some sort of falling out." Sam nodded. "He lives about 100 miles from here and I asked him for help. I got him to run it up to me when you were flirting with your little girlfriend in high school." Sam rolled his eyes.
"You know Dad will kill us if he finds out we did this right?" Dean smiled and started loading one of the shot guns. Sam would never admit to Dean that he was nervous.
Sam and Dean
"Come on, Sammy. You're not scared are ya?" Dean taunted Sam just as they were about to walk into the abandoned house.
"No." Sam's voice cracked slightly and Dean raised his eyebrows and smirked.
"You sure? No shame in wittle Sammy saying he's scared." Dean's voice went into baby mode like when he talked to the Impala when he thought Sam was asleep.
"Shut up, Dean." Sam looked at the sawed off shotgun in his hand and took a deep breath. Dean could tell that Sam was nervous, and although Dean wouldn't tell Sam, Dean was nervous too. Dean slid the pistol into his jean pocket and clicked on his flashlight.
"We've got each other's backs, right?" Dean locked his green eyes with Sam's brown ones, and Sam felt better and nodded. Dean slowly reached for the door and opened it. The brothers walked through the threshold of the home and looked around. Cobwebs, dust, and dirt were everywhere. Dean pulled the EMF meter out of his shirt pocket and turned it on. It began to make little noises, but nothing that really indicated anything.
Then the boys heard a noise upstairs. Dean looked at Sam and took off for the stairs. Sam followed, but said
"Dean! I don't think we should do this without Dad." Dean was already half way up the stairs and wasn't going to turn back now. Dean shined his flashlight in the corners while Sam slowly walked up the stairs. Dean opened the door where the shuffling was coming from and walked in. There, sitting on the bed, was a raccoon.
"Shit!" Dean slammed the door as the raccoon jumped off the bed and ran towards the door. Dean banged his forehead against the door.
"What?" Sam yelled up at Dean. Dean sighed, defeated.
"Nothing, it was a stupid rodent." Dean walked back down the stairs and Sam felt bad for his older brother. Sam knew Dean was just trying to prove himself to John.
"Dean, let's go check out the school that she taught at."
"It's not there anymore. It was torn down."
"Well, is there a school that was built in its place?" Dean paused. He looked at Sam, who was still on the stairs.
"Madison."
"My high school?" Dean nodded.
"Let's go check it out then." Dean smiled, knowing Sam was just trying to make him feel better since Dean knew he was wrong.
"Okay, Sammy. Let's go." Sam led the way out of the house, happy to be leaving.
Twenty minutes later, Sam was staring at the now familiar front of his school.
"My science teacher always leaves her classroom window open." Sam walked around until he found the open window, which was on the second floor of the school.
"How are we going to get up there?" Sam asked, looking up.
"I'll lift you up there." Dean was already getting in position on the ground to give Sam a boost up.
"Are you kidding? How will you get up there then?"
"You can come unlock the front door." Dean said as though it was obvious, which it was. Sam tried not to look nervous as Dean lifted him into the air. Sam grabbed the window frame and was able to pull himself up into the classroom. It was dark, and Sam had forgotten to grab the flashlight from Dean. He opened the door to the classroom and walked out, shutting the door behind him.
"YOU'RE HERE!" A voice from behind Sam said. Sam's legs felt like rubber and he couldn't move. After his legs returned to normal, he ran to the front door, and, out of breath, told Dean about what had happened.
"So, she's here? Is there a basement to this place?" Sam nodded, not wanting to go back in.
"Come on, Sammy, will you be brave for me?" Sam felt like a little kid. He had remembered Dean asking him that exact thing when he Dean was leaving to go get food and Sam didn't want to be left in the motel rooms by himself. Sam nodded, and followed Dean inside, the gun his hands shaking. Sam was telling Dean where to go, leading from behind the way to the basement. Once there, the boys realized the lock needed to be picked. Thankfully, Dean was an expert at this. The door popped open, and Dean shown the flashlight down the stairs.
"Ladies first, Samantha." Dean grinned at his brother, just trying to ease the tension. Sam glared, and Dean knew the time for jokes would have to be later. Dean led the way downstairs, Sam following close behind.
"GET AWAY FROM MY WIFE!" A man appeared in 1800s clothing, running towards the brothers. Dean shot the man in the chest and he disappeared; both knew he would be back though.
"So it's not the teacher that's haunting this place, it's her husband."
"She must've cheated on him, which made him kill her."
"The other two teachers were probably…Dean! Look out!" Sam saw the man reappear behind Dean, and shot him in the head. They needed to be quick. Searching the basement, they looked for anything that may have belonged to the ghost. They reluctantly split up, hoping to make it go faster.
"Sammy! Find anything?" Dean was waiting for a response. When he didn't get one, he went to find Sam. The ghost had Sam by the throat against the wall.
"Sammy!" The ghost turned towards Dean and with a swish of the hand, had Dean fly into some boxes. Dean tried to get up, but his head was swimming. That was when he saw what looked like a locket on the floor. He picked it up, and inside was a clump of hair.
'It's worth a shot.' Dean thought as he pulled the lighter out of his jean pocket and lit the hair on fire. Dean heard a screaming coming from Sam's general direction, and then a gasp of air. Dean heard Sam walk over and looked up at his little brother, and for the first time in a long time, saw him. The scared little kid that had just found out monsters are real. Dean stood up and said,
"Let's go, Sammy." It took all of Sam's might to get walk up the stairs and get into the Impala.
The brothers were silent for most of the rest of the day. Dean had gotten them beet and they were watching football when there was a knock at the door of their room. Dean stood up, grabbed his pistol and looked into the peep hole. Sam was curious, but was too busy hiding the beer bottle to be too worried. Dean turned to Sam, smiled wide and opened the door.
There was John Winchester.