Please see previous chapter for all warnings, disclaimers, and all that other technical stuff.
Also, I forgot to mention this in the first chapter: Story inspired by two other stories. I'd tell you what they are but they would definitely spoil this story...so...if you're honestly curious send me a PM, if you can wait then the stories will be revealed in later chapters when nothing can be spoiled ;).
Sam climbed out of his dad's truck and shrugged on his suit jacket. John had sent Dean to pick up supplies while he and Sam were going to talk to the families. In most cases, Sam was the one who was sent on supply runs. It gave him a job to do and got him out of his dad's hair for an hour or two, which was fine with Sam. But he couldn't really figure out why his dad was sending Dean to town instead.
The youngest Winchester followed his father up a gravel driveway and to the front door of a small trailer. Sam raised an eyebrow at the missing windows but didn't comment. John knocked on the door and the two waited for someone to answer.
Finally, the door opened to reveal a tall woman with startling red hair. She wore a pair of jeans and a black shirt. "Can I help you gentlemen?" she questioned with a polite smile.
"I'm Victor Ford, this is my partner," John motioned to Sam, "Tyler Jacobson. We're with the FBI. We were wondering if you could answer a few questions for us about your husband's recent disappearance."
Her eyes watered up but she nodded, "Yes, yes of course. Please come in. I'm Maggie Reynolds." She led them into the trailer, shutting the door once they were all inside. Maggie brought them to the small couch in the cluttered living room. "So, uh, what questions do you have?"
John cleared his throat, "What time did you notice your husband missing?"
Maggie sighed, "He didn't show up for work Tuesday morning, I was visiting my mother so I wasn't here."
"Did Mr. Reynolds miss work often?" Sam asked before his father could open his mouth for the next question.
Maggie shook her head, "No, no. Ed loved working at the toy shop. He was always smiling when he came home." She smiled fondly at the memory.
"Is there anyone who didn't like Ed, maybe had a grudge against him?" John said, a pen and a piece of paper in his hands in case a name was given.
"Everyone loves Ed, we're always getting invited over for dinner every other night."
The woman obviously thought the world of her husband. Sam and John shared a quick look and knew they were thinking the same thing: there would get nothing useful out of her.
Maggie told them a couple stories about her husband and afterwards John asked a few basic, non-important questions before he and Sam left. When they were back in John's truck and pulling out of the gravel driveway, John called his oldest son.
"Yeah?" Dean answered.
"The first guy, Reynolds, was apparently a good guy. Paid his taxes, played Santa at Christmas parties, and I bet he baked cookies for the local charity too." John reported with a heavy sigh. In his peripheral vision he noticed Sam pulling his black tie off, "Leave that on, Sammy-"
"It's Sam." Sam interrupted, fixing his tie with a quiet huff.
"-we've still got a few more people to interview." John returned his attention to Dean, "Did you get what I asked you to?"
"Yes sir. I re-stocked the first aid kit, bought more ammo, and had a very interesting conversation with the local sheriff. We were both at the ammo store when we ran into each other. I flashed my badge and he told me the FBI wasn't going to help any, that he should have called Animal Control or the Wildlife Department in instead."
"What? Why?"
Dean explained, "Apparently a couple kids were attacked by wolves yesterday afternoon. They kept it out of the press, though. The sheriff thinks the disapperances were caused by the wolves and our missing people are probably strewn all over the forest."
"We're not dealing with a werewolf, then, since they don't have fur." John groaned, "Damn it. Alright, we'll meet you back at the motel when we're finished. Start researching any other possibilities."
"Yes sir."
The two Winchesters hung up without saying any goodbyes. John glanced over at his youngest son to find Sam had fixed his tie. He looked like a lawyer, making John inwardly wince. No, don't even go there, he thought to himself. There was no point in him going down that particular road of thought when he knew it'd only make him feel horrible.
"What'd Dean say?" Sam broke the silence with a quiet cough added onto his words.
Not taking his eyes off the road John replied, "We're definitely not dealing with a werewolf." He relayed what Dean had said to Sam.
The younger hunter cocked his head to the side just barely. It was a habit he had had his whole life. Dean even titled it 'Sammy's dog-like question face'. The older brother had sworn up and down the action made Sam look like a dog. John had to hold back a smile at the memories the simple action brought up. "Maybe wolves really did attack Colesing, then. There might not even be a case here."
"I'd rather be sure, Sam."
Sam bit his tongue against a retort and instead asked, "What do you think it is then?"
"No clue. Dean's working on a theory right now, though."
Sam snorted, "Dean? Researching?"
"He's a fine researcher when he wants to be, Sam."
"Yeah, well, he'd rather be shooting something."
John couldn't deny that. Dean adn Sam could be complete opposites at times. While Dean had been eager to shoot anything that even looked at him wrong, Sam preferred researching for hours until he came up with the most reasonable theory. It killed John sometimes when he would spend days looking up something for a hunt and it would only take Sam an hour at the most to uncover an answer.
They fell back into a silence. John was starting to foget all about the Stanford incident. Of course, he wouldn't fully relax for a couple more weeks until the scholarship expired. He'd felt guilty as hell denying Sam something he obviously wanted, but Sam had to learn to protect himself. The eighteen year old had been coddled for a long time when it came to hunting and training, instead focusing on school work and grades.
Sam and John talked to the remaining families but did not find anything interesting about the missing persons.
"The only thing I see in common is they're all dudes." Dean stated as he lazily threw a wadded up piece of paper at the back of his brother's head.
"Stop, Dean." Sam said, continuing to tap away on his laptop. The Winchesters had pulled their money together to buy the device to make researching easier. Sam had gone several days without eating lunch at school, but he thought it was definitely worth it.
"Make me, bitch."
"Dean." John sent his oldest a warning look, though inside he was glad the brothers' banter was starting to return. He knew he and Dean had to be on the same track: Sam wasn't leaving them.
"So what the hell kills guys like this?"
"My best guess is a skinwalker." Sam suggested, shutting the computer down and closing it. He sat in his seat so he could face his brother, who was lying on one of the beds and facing the ceiling. John was on his own bed, cleaning some of the weapons. "It'd explain the fur. Unless we're missing a connection?"
John shook his head, "As far as I can tell none of the men have ever met each other. Hell, they've probably never even passed each other on the street."
"What about where they went missing?" Dean questioned, interlocking his hands behind his head.
"The third victim went missing near the woods. He was with his cousin or something and he just disappeared." Sam told his brother as he stood up and walked over to the small fridge. He pulled out a small jug of milk and poured himself a glass before returning it to the fridge.
They continued to discuss the hunt, without any fighting which was a shock to all parties involved, but came up with nothing useful. Eventually Dean broke off to take a shower, leaving his father and brother to do their own thing.
John pulled out his journal and began writing at the table. The youngest Winchester glanced at the small clock hanging near the door and decided to go to bed. He undid his jeans and tugged them off before climbing into the bed furthest from the door, making sure to leave enough space for his brother. Despite being eighteen and twenty-two, the two brothers were still sharing the same bed. John didn't want to spend money on a second room and the places they stayed at usually didn't offer roll aways. Sam was seriously considering buying a cot. Sharing a bed with his brother had been slightly awkward since Sam was thirteen and he was sure Dean felt the same way.
He drifted off to the sound of his father scribbling away and the shower running.
When Dean finished his shower he dressed himself in a shirt and a pair of boxers before leaving the bathroom. Dean felt himself relax when he saw his brother sleeping and his father writing. Thank God they didn't fight, he thought with relief. Since Sam's almost-disappearance-to-Stanford the oldest and youngest Winchesters had had fewer fights. Now they were mostly disagreements about whatever monster they were hunting. Then again, that might have had something to do with the fact John and Sam only talked about hunting and nothing else.
Dean remembered a time when Sam would talk about everything and anything to whoever would listen. But now it was like his only topic of conversation was hunting. In a way Dean was glad, there definitely would not be as many fights between everyone. In another way it was like Sam wasn't Sam anymore.
He sighed before climbing into bed beside his brother. The lamp in the room was left on for John until the father grew tired himself. He double-checked the salt lines and several other protections before turning off the light and going to bed.
:) More to come next Wednesday...unfortunately I"m still stuck on writing chapter 7 but hopefully motivation and inspiration will slap me in the face or something.
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