Author's Note: I do not own either Dean, Sam or John Winchester.
My first fanfiction, yay! Ive been working on this for a while and finally have it in. Please, pleas,e please, read and review. Tell me whatchya like, dont like, love etc. I'll love you forever.
Caroline
Dean walked into the small roadside Dinner Diner closely followed by Sam.
"Two," Dean blandly answered the waitress asking how many.
She led them to a booth on the right hand side of the Diner. It was pushed right up against a window with a wonderful view of the one way road from which Dean and Sam came, and the thick, dark forest on the other side. It was close to sundown and the last rays of pink and orange hues swirled in the clouded sky. Dean sat down wordlessly not looking at the waitress. She handed them two menus and Sam smiled a "thanks" as she walked over to the next hungry costumer.
Sam looked at Dean in an expecting sort of way. Dean just fiddled with the plastic cream colored salt container, twirling it in his fingers breathing quietly. Sam knew this wasn't like Dean. To not talk, to not look at the very cute waitress who took their order, to be depressed.
Sam sighed. What could be wrong with his big brother? It killed him that Dean wasn't talking. To see him so distressed and not know what was wrong? Shoot him now.
But then again, it wasn't the first time he'd seen Dean this way. Right after he had him healed by a Faith Healer to realize he'd taken the life of someone else, wasn't exactly Dean's fondest memory. It took awhile for him to get back in synch again, to move on. Sam remembered how painful that was to drive the car in complete udder silence. Hell, he's going through it right now. Sometimes Dean could be such a...
"Dean," he said finally. The expectant looks weren't getting him anywhere.
Dean grunted in reply still staring at the salt dispenser.
"What the Hell is wrong with you?" he said more out of concern than annoyance.
"Whuddya mean Sam." It sounded more like a statement, than a question.
"I mean, what's with your shitty attitude? It's not like you Dean. Talk to me brother..." he reached across the table and took Deans hands in his, forcing Dean to stop playing with the damn salt container. Which in turn forced Dean to look other places than down at the table. Not looking at Sam he looked out the window at the twilight sky quickly becoming darker.
Sam knew it would take him a while. It always did. Dean had more of a problem telling people things, than he himself did. It took exactly six minutes, six long minutes of waiting, and six minutes of weird stares from across the room looking at the boys hold hands. Sam didn't care. It wasn't like he was ever going to see these people again, and besides that, there was something wrong with his big brother, and he needed to know what it was. Holding Dean's hand helped. He knew it. It helped tell Dean that he was there for him. He would listen.
"Alright Sam." His voice was husky and gruff. He looked up at Sam with those brilliant green eyes with splinters of gold in them. Sometimes Sam thought that his eyes and voice clashed. The kind, caring eyes of his brother were the opposite of his harsh growl like voice.
Dean sighed. He let go of Sam holding his hands and ran them through his short dark blonde hair ducking his head and finally resting his face in his hands. He was thinking.
Sam waited patiently.
Still with his face in his hands he said, "There's just somethin' I haven't toldjyou about. And it's just been botherin' me an' all..."
Sam listened and waited for Dean to elaborate.
Dean sighed again. This time it was more of an exasperated exhale. He lifted his head and looked out the window again.
"I'm scared."
Sam tilted his head as if he hadn't quite heard him. "Come again?"
Dean sighed yet again. It was heavier than the past ones, as if he was getting really annoyed, but at the same time realized it was his fault Sam wasn't understanding.
"I'm scared we'll never find dad. I'm scared that I'll be chasing him the rest of my life to never find him again. It'd be nice to, ya know…know if he's okay. Who knows if that really was him on the phone that one day before going to Indiana? It could've been a trap to get us killed. I almost did if it weren't fur you and your sudden urge to steal a car."
Sam didn't really get what Dean was saying at all but he decided to wait until Dean was done. Besides, there was nothing he could possibly say that would make any difference to the situation.
"I have to find Dad Sam. I mean, I know sure as Hell you do too, but I need to find him for a different reason. For closer. To know that he's okay, to know that our searching isn't in vain…I'm scared something happened to him Sam. I kept thinking over the past few days…what if that really wasn't Dad on the phone? What if something happened to him, and that was something trying to kill us. Huh? This is getting harder for me to deal with Sam. It's harder for me to accept. Dad wouldn't just leave us for the thing that killed Mom. He would've gladly accepted our help, knowing he trained us all our freakin lives."
Dean was angry now, Sam could tell. His mood seemed to change a lot. But usually when he started out depressed, he'd end up being angry.
"Dean I have no doubt that was Dad on the phone. Besides, wouldn't I have gotten some weird sensation if it wasn't, what with my freaky "psychic powers?" He smiled queuing Dean to start laughing at his joke. Dean didn't even look at him.
"Oh come one Dean! I can't believe that's what's been bothering you! Don't you see? You're just all worked up cuz you haven't eaten in like 2 days. You'll get better once you eat." He smiled genuinely.
Dean looked at his brother. He could be so queer sometimes…
But then again…he was the one who was worried about not finding their father…
He decided he wasn't gonna press the matter. Maybe he was being petty and trivial. And that food the hott waitress was bringing the couple next to them looked really good…
He sighed for a last time. At least for now.
"Alright Sam. I guess you're right. I do need to eat." He smiled, glad that his dumb depression was over.
Sam was over the moon. He knew he could be a help!
"Dad's fine Dean. I promise." There was something about Sam's smile that Dean couldn't doubt.
The girl came by to take their order. Everything looked so good to Dean. The brunette waitress in short shorts and a white wife beater was looking pretty delicious herself, but decided, unfortunately, that food was going to fuel his body in a more…substantial way. Like I said, unfortunately.
The brothers ate their food and after throwing a 20 on the table, trudged out the door. Dean squeaked his Baby's door shut and purred the engine to life. Sam smiled and pulled out his laptop looking up in their next destination in detail. He'd already had everything laid out for 2 full days, he just never said anything to Dean, since he was in a pretty low depression hole. Dean backed the Impala out of the graveled parking lot and got on the same road they came from.
"Where to next?" Dean looked up through the windshield at the quickly darkening sky.
"Some place called Cedar Grove, West Virginia. The deaths aren't numerous either. There've only been 4 or 5 in the past 20 years, but the same death cause dates back all the way to the late 1800's. It says here that every victim died in this situation. It seems that they've all been teenage girls, around the age of 16, who've been dared to spend the night at a grave yard. The next morning they were found dead in the arms of a statue. And this statue ain't your normal, everyday statue." He turned the laptop towards Dean. It showed the image of a gargoyle like monster with its arms held out in front of it, crossed as if it were holding something invisible.
"What a scary little bitch. And that's normal for something like that to be a grave stone? I mean, that seems pretty intense."
"That's another weird part. There aren't any accounts of it being placed there. It showed up when the first recorded death happened. They removed it after the death because it's so disturbing, but after every death, it shows up."
"So…the people there just, like, removed it but did nothing to set up a night watch? I mean, the best way to stop those deaths, is to make sure no ones in there in the first place."
"Well that's what they did. They set up a night watch with two female police officers at first about 30 years ago when they noticed the trend, but they ended up dying. Weird, considering the males never get the bad end of this. They soon set up male officers, but somehow teenage girls still manage to squeeze in. It doesn't happen every time one stays the night either. It happens sort of in a cycle. One recorded death date was in 1980 in June. It was around the second week. The next was 1981, second week of June. Next one, 1983 second week of June, next, 1986 same week, 1990…It seems as if the years are going in numbers. Like, 1980 plus one year is 1981. 1981 plus two years is 1983, 1983 plus three years is-"
"1986. Yea I see what you mean. Maybe it was always in that sort of cycle, but started in the late 1800's. That sort of repetitive cycle sounds like a ghost, or some poltergeist of some sort. They seem to like numbers…Well, at least I know one thing."
"What's that."
"I wouldn't stand a chance being an evil ghost. Numbers are complete bitches to me. Never liked 'em. It's like tryin to read Chinese."
Sam rolled his eyes and continued clicking on the laptop.
"Anyway, this sounds like our kinda gig. Lemme know when you close Dean, im dead tired."
Sam closed his laptop and stowed it under the seat before pulling the hood of his sweatshirt over his face and leaned against the window.
"769 miles to Cedar Grove. Yay."
As the green sign flashed by the Impala traveling down the one way road, Dean saw the silhouette of a man pass by. He looked in the rearview mirror at the man that looked strangley like...
"Dad?"
But as soon as the words left his mouth, the man vanished.
There are two things going on at the same time...
Please R&R. The second chapter should come out soon, but reviews would get me motivated to finish it.
