Where the Soul Resides
Black-Angel-001: i apologize for the wait but with the holidays and all i hope you guys understand. now then, to get on with the second chapter!
Where the Soul Resides
The New England town they arrived in was relatively small and typically historic, and about ten or so miles from a major city. It had a charming type of name that was also fairly typical of others like it; New Haven Cove boasted a low crime rate, a good family and retirement air, and plenty of shops for finding that rare item you were looking for. It was between big towns and citites, close enough to be accomidating but far enough that after driving all day (or all night or both) you were glad for the many small and locally owned bed and breakfasts with soft mattresses, proper water heaters, excellent food (with a complimentary breakfast) and even better rates. It was quaint, quiet, and just out of the way enough to be unsuspecting of dangers in any form and properly appalled at any kind of tragedy.
It was the type of town Dean and Sam had seen time and time again, both with their father and travelling together. It was also the type of town that was welcoming of most strangers even if they kept reservations, especially for the strangers who asked lots of questions and boasted about being reporters from some big city paper. But the brothers knew how to do their jobs and do them well; it didn't take long for Sam's charm and puppy eyes to work their magic on the motherly owner of the bed and breakfast they were staying at.
Mrs. Emily Stratford took one look at the brothers and decided that they needed someone to take care of them, even if it was only for a little while. She promised them big meals, which were the norm there, and plenty of cookies and cakes to snack on in between. When they asked about the murders, she tsked and shook her head sadly.
"Such a horrible thing to happen, and here of all places! They were all such nice young men, too, very polite. Well, except for that Mr. Eric Long fellow. He was a bit...shifty, if you know what I mean. But still, he didn't cause any trouble and was quiet enough, they all were. Solemn, too, I remember that."
"Mrs. Stratford, do you have any idea what killed them," asked Dean as they followed the widow up the stairs to their room.
"Why, the paper said it was a heart attack or something of the like," she replied, a little uneasy. Her eyes cut to the left nervously before staring straight ahead again.
Sam and Dean caught the edge in her voice and Sam jumped in. "But we were wondering what you thought did it. Your family has owned this place for quite some time right?"
"Since before the second war," Mrs. Stratford said proudly. "I really wouldn't know I'm afraid; I'm sorry. Here we are." Stopping in front of one of the doors, she turned the brass knob and opened the door. Stepping inside the room, she nodded to herself as she looked around. "I hope you're comfortable here. Towels and sheets are fresh, the windows open to a beautiful street view. If you need anything, just use the phone or come and get me and we'll see about getting it taken care of."
"Thank you, Mrs. Stratford," Sam said because he knew Dean wouldn't if he could help it. She closed the door behind her when she left, smiling and talking a little to herself.
In silence the brothers put their bags away, set their shaving kits in the bathroom, and pulled out the computer and few sheets of paper they had with information. They moved around each other in a wary silent manner, and although they tried to avoid it, they sometimes ran into each other, literally. It made the tension rise in the room until Dean grabbed his jacket, muttered a short, clipped message, and stormed out of the room. Sam stayed in his seat on the bed with a paper in hand, eyes glued to the door as if that would make it re-open and his brother come back. Then he gave himself a self-degrading shake of the head and looked back to the paper.
If just staring at a door would make Dean show back up, and get them back to being brothers, not just strangers who inhabited the same space, things would have been fixed a long time ago. Hell, if it did that then it would fix everything else too: Dad wouldn't have died, Jess wouldn't have died, growing up would have been full of different aspects, their mom would still be alive. Sam shook his head again. While they were thinking the impossible, why not add in world peace and no scary monsters in the dark?
With a resigned sigh to a night spent mostly alone and full of staring at a screen, Sam settled himself deeper into the propped up pillows and got to work.
Since New Haven Cove was a 'small and highly respectable town' it didn't really have a bar. It had a pub though, and as long as it served alchohol that was all Dean was really worried about. If he felt a twinge of guilt and whatthehellWinchester at leaving Sam alone in a house that was killing people to do research by himself, Dean quickly squashed it with a swig of beer. Sam was the one who wanted to come here to begin with, it was his case, not Dean's, so Sam could have fun doing the leg work mostly by himself.
Even after three beers Dean wasn't able to fully convince himself of it.
Black-Angel-001: lotsa filler right now, lotsa set up. it'll be worth it i promise, just bear with me!