Chapter Two
Sam unlocked the door to his motel room and dropped his duffle bag unceremoniously onto the carpeted floor. He peered around the room half-heartedly before crossing to the bathroom and filling up one of the plastic cups the motel provided with cold water.
Sam stared at his reflection in the mirror as he gulped down the icy liquid, noticing the dark circles under his eyes and brow furrowed from stress.
Sighing sadly, Sam turned away from the bathroom and sat down on the bed farthest from the door. A wan smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as Sam realized that even in Dean's absence, he still took the bed his brother would want him to.
Sam leaned back against the lumpy mattress and stared up at the water-stained popcorn ceiling wondering what to do next.
W
Evening found Sam sitting alone at a local watering-hole a few blocks from his motel. He stared blindly at the seat opposite him- where Dean should have been sitting- while his fingers shredded the label of his untouched bottle of beer.
The bar was loud and bustling. It seemed as if every cowpoke in Fort Worth had retired here for a night of drinking and dancing. The air was stale and smelt of spilt beer and sweat. Billy Ray Cyrus lamented over his 'achy breaky heart' from a Jukebox that had seen better days. The floor was sticky with God-knew-what and the lighting left something to be desired.
Sam didn't notice any of this though. All he could think about was his brother. Dean should be here. Should be guzzling down his fourth beer and hitting on all the pretty girls in low-rise jeans and cowboy boots.
Pick a hemisphere.
Sam ground his teeth as his brother's words wormed their way into his head again.
What was he doing here? He should be heading to Mexico by now. Wasn't that the plan?
Tomorrow, Sam told himself; tomorrow I'll cross the border and won't look back. I just need tonight to get some rest.
Sam stared at his beer bottle- the alcohol had long gone warm- and frowned.
Pick a hemisphere.
Sam sighed and stood, paying for his untouched beer and slipped through the crowd toward the exit.
W
The night air was chilly and Sam was glad he had his jacket with him. Light from the bar spilled out onto the sidewalk, painting the concrete a kaleidoscope of red, blue and yellow.
Stuffing his hands into his pockets, Sam's gaze drifted to his shoes and remained fixed there.
Walking around the corner, Sam thought only about getting back to his motel room where he could catch a few hours of sleep before continuing on south, when the sounds of a struggle alerted him to trouble in a nearby alleyway.
"Go away! I said no!" A scared and angry female voice cried out.
"C'mon baby, don't be like that," A deep masculine voice chuckled, clearly drunk.
Sam peered around the corner of the alley and saw a man towering over a rather small, skinny young woman.
"I said no! Leave me alone!" the girl tugged at the man's hand on her arm.
Sam couldn't just stand by and watch, his legs moved of their own accord and he stepped into the mouth of the alley.
"Hey, douchebag," Sam called out, "She said she doesn't want to go with you."
The man let go of the young woman's arm and approached Sam, "Why don't you mind your own business?"
Sam nodded at the girl as she hurried past him. He smiled; glad that he could do something good for someone.
"You should have kept your nose out of this, buddy," the man growled. It was dark in the alley and difficult for Sam to see but he could tell that he was at least a foot taller than the other man.
"Guess I can't help myself," Sam smirked and easily moved into a fighting stance.
Suddenly stars burst in the young man's vision and he lost his balance, slumping forward as he passed out.
The girl smiled from behind the fallen Winchester, one hand twirling the butt of her pistol.
"That's gonna hurt in the morning," the man, Lloyd, laughed and the young woman stepped over Sam's body.
"That was almost too easy," Alma pressed herself against the other hunter, "We'd better get him to Tim and Reggie before he wakes up."
Lloyd leaned down and kissed Alma, wrapping a brawny arm around her slender waist. The female hunter took her cell phone out and pressed Speed Dial.
"Yeah, Tim, we got him," her sultry voice informed the blond hunter as Lloyd kissed her neck.
Alma smiled, "Glad to help out a friend."
W
Sam woke slowly, the back of his head pounding, and blinked groggily at his surroundings.
Sam didn't dare to try and sit up yet. He raised a hand to the nape of his neck and felt his hair matted with sticky blood.
His vision was foggy- due to the blow to the back of his head- and Sam squeezed his eyes shut for a moment.
What had happened? The last thing Sam remembered was rescuing that young woman from that drunken prick outside the bar.
Carefully Sam opened his eyes and allowed them to focus. He narrowed them suspiciously when he got a good look at where he was.
The room had a plain cement floor and redbrick walls. There was a small window set high in one wall- too high for Sam to reach and too small for him to climb through- and a single naked bulb casting a dusty light down on him. The door reminded Sam of the one that led to Bobby's panic room- dark, unyielding iron- with no handle on the inside.
As Sam continued to peer around the room, he saw that someone had drawn a Devil's Trap on the floor in black permanent marker- the trap touched the angle where the floor and walls met, leaving only the four corners of the square room free of the trap's power- and a matching one on the ceiling when Sam tilted his head upwards.
This has to be some sort of mistake, Sam thought, I'm not possessed.
He reached out a hand, supporting himself against the brick wall as he stood on unsteady legs. Someone had laid him on an old, stained and lumpy mattress and had removed his shoes and jacket.
Sam shuffled forward, his eyes catching sight of a metal bucket that sat in one corner of the room and wrinkled his nose.
Lurching across the room, Sam leaned against the metal door for a moment as his head swam and his stomach flip-flopped dangerously.
Raising a fist, Sam knocked his hand against the door. The metal gave a dull, sonorous thud that didn't echo.
"Hey!" Sam called out as loudly as he dared- his head spiked with pain as he raised his voice, "Hello? I'm in here! There's been a mistake! I'm not a demon!"
Sam paused, trying to listen through the thick metal. After a moment he decided to try again.
"Hey! Can anybody hear me?" Sam's voice cracked and he coughed, nearly doubling over with its force and the pain in his head.
"Shit," Sam whispered and laid a hand on the door for support. He had no idea where he was or who had locked him in this room. The only thing Sam knew for sure was that whoever was on the other side of the door, they were not a friend.
Gathering up his strength again, Sam slammed the flat of his hand against the door, "Hey! Let me out of here!"
Sam sighed and turned away from the door. It was obvious that no one was going to answer him- not anytime soon, at least- and he crossed the floor to sit heavily on the mattress.
Sam lifted a hand and ran his fingers through his hair, careful not to touch the gash on the back of his head. He closed his eyes as a wave of dizziness swept over him and Sam lay down on his side on the mattress. All he could do now was wait until whoever was keeping him locked in this room decided to appear and give him some answers.
SPN
Dean gulped down his the last mouthful of beer and seriously contemplated ordering another one.
He leaned back against the bench seat and sighed. He had never felt so relaxed before. And it wasn't just because of the beer, either. Dean didn't have Sam to worry about anymore. Dean was on his own and he felt… free.
Dean couldn't help but be glad that Sam had decided to leave. After everything that had happened recently with Ruby and the Apocalypse, Dean and Sam hadn't been acting very much like brothers and their relationship was only getting worse. Now they both had a chance to do what they wanted; Dean could continue hunting, find out a way to stop the end of the world and Sam could live his 'normal life'.
Everything would be better for the Winchester brothers now that they were separated. And as long as things stayed that way, Dean reasoned, nothing could go wrong.
Dean stopped a passing waitress, "Hey Sweetheart, do you think there's another beer in the back for me?"
The young woman smiled and nodded. The patron was certainly nicer and better looking than many of the other guys who flocked to the bar. As she grabbed a bottle she scribbled her name and number onto a small white napkin and handed it over with the alcohol when she returned.
Dean raised an eyebrow when he received his beer and the waitresses' number.
"What time does your shift end?" he asked and twisted open the beer.
The waitress flicked her long hair back over her shoulder and cocked her hip seductively.
Tonight's really shaping up; Dean thought and took a swig of beer as he admired the waitress' butt as she went to check on some other bar flies.
Author's Note:
1. Thanks to mb64, cold kagome, sammynanci, doyleshuny, mandancie, babyreaper, BranchSuper, sarah, Souless666, AshleyMarie84, Kailene, MysteryMadchen, maxandkiz, L.A.H.H, SamDeanLover28, Nobody's Love, AlxM, Katlover98 and Guest for reviewing.
2. Thanks to everyone who alerted, followed or favourited this story.
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