Author's Note I'm giving you a heads up that I'm using some common lore, but also putting my own twist on it. Nothing is cold hard facts. Cause I can't do that much research to save my life. Ask my English grade.
It'd been quite a few nights since Sam had realized his new ability. It was an awkward ability that plagued him from the beginning. Eventually, Sam learned to brush it off until he wasn't in front of someone. Especially if that someone was Dean. Sam felt a little discouraged when he met Dean's eyes. He hadn't said anything about his new ability to his older brother, and Sam kept putting it off. By the time Sam had the guts to say anything, he just played it off as a one time thing. That just so happened to happen more and more frequently. Until, finally, sensing the heavy tension in the room, Sam blurted out something stupid.
"Would you please just go out and get laid already?"
"What?" Dean snapped his head to look at his brother. Sam was situated at the table in a hunched over 'I'm researching' slouch.
Sam felt his face burn up. All the thoughts in his head were banging back and forth until he finally couldn't help it. He didn't cower back into himself as he usually did when confronting Dean. No, he was going to get this god damned tension out of his brother if it killed him.
"I can feel it all the way over here, man. Go to a bar- do something! I can't take it anymore."
"Hey, I'm not miss brood over here." Dean spat back, motioning his hand toward Sam. Sam had to admit that he was getting pretty frustrated with their current case. This mysterious demon was still playing tricks on the townspeople. No real leads had showed up- whether that was good or bad. Both the brothers wanted to play it off as a demon passing through, but they both knew that wasn't the case. Demons just don't 'pass through' without at least killing someone. Maybe this demon was just fucking with them. Maybe it was Ruby?
Dean saw Sam visually tense up then. The elder Winchester got up from his bed and pulled out a chair from the table. It wasn't big enough to allow them to sit face to face for their knees would have scrunched together uncomfortably. Instead he positioned himself beside Sam and clapped a hand on his back.
"What's up man?"
"I..." Sam began, but felt a pang of guilt in his stomach. Dean had repeatedly told him he disapproved of Ruby. And now that Sam has an accusation against her... Well, the little brother felt a tad bit too little now. "It's nothing."
"Whatever, dude. I'm starving. Let's hit that diner again. Their burgers are so good!" Dean held up his hands as if he was holding a giant burger. He shook them a little to emphasis his point. Sam's stomach felt empty then, twisting a little. Normally he would think of this feeling as normal- everybody with a soul has gotta eat, right? But Sam wanted- no craved- a giant, thick, burger. Topped with tomatoes, unions, and a shit load of barbeque sauce! Sam snapped out of it, wiping the drool from his mouth.
"Dude, please keep your appetite to yourself." Sam sighed, picking up the keys from the table.
"Who said you could drive?" Dean caught up to him, snatching the keys away. He swung open the door and crossed his right arm along his body, tucking it up and bending forward. His legs were crossed. "Ladies first."
Sam would have hit him then if he didn't find Dean's joke so amusing. Or maybe he fantasized about a well-mannered Dean- No, definitely just a cheesy joke.
Sam ended up getting a giant burger after all. For a while he marveled the taste of tangy ketchup and bitter onions. Of course he regretted it later when he vomited it back up only hours later.
"Light weight." Dean had commented over the sickening hacks his brother made. They had to pull over the road for Sam. Taking advantaged of open space, Dean decided to take out the giant map that was hopeless crammed into the glove box and lay it on the hood of the Impala. It was tough getting that thing open with such a tight space. Dean fished his hand back in the glove compartment for a highlighter. His hand emerge with a bright, pink marker. Much to his distaste, he took it and started to track the demon's odd occurrences.
"Any pattern?" Sam said has he strode up behind Dean. He was wiping his mouth when he noticed what Dean was doing.
"Are you kidding me? This bitch has got to be kidding me!" Dean slapped his hand down on the map. Sam peered over Dean's hunched form to notice the pattern made a smiley face.
"I don't think I've ever met a demon so sickeningly facetious." Dean ascribed, cutting Sam off from throwing out a snide remark.
Instead, Sam settled on, "Facetious? You pull that one out of your ass or-"
"Hey, I read, dude." Dean poked Sam's chest, emphasizing dude.
Sam felt a jolt in his chest. They both coughed a little, looking away. When they met eyes another jolt occurred. Dean had had enough and he turned around, scattering to pick the map back up.
"We gotta get moving." Dean choked out the best he could, tough-guy facade well broken down.
"Yeah." Sam ignored the obviously awkward air. They both were thankful for that.
They were on their way to the most recent incident. A old guy along the name of Doward Smith had proclaimed that his pet parrot exploded in it's cage. It's last words were 'oh noes!'. Dean had a good ten minute laugh out of that one; and Sam just sat there in silence, a large grin forcing itself onto Sam's face as he took in his brothers overwhelmingly absurd humor. Sam was getting very sick of this Empath bullshit and very quickly so.
The questioning was par for the course. The usual crying victim being preyed for information. Sam couldn't help but scowl at the man's overreaction. Sure, he could get that the parrot was probably his best friend, but... it was just a parrot. It didn't help the awkward mood, either, when Dean started slipping smart ass remarks about the parrot having an 'explosive' personality. The younger man was happy to be out of the stuffy house, but disappointed when there was no new information provided. He shrugged it off though as both of them knew it was a dead end to begin with. They were running out of leads and running out a patience.
"I dunno man, maybe this just isn't our thing. The demon has no real motive and definitely isn't doing any harm." Dean shifted in the driver's side car seat. He cranked up the music a little louder, hoping for Sam to drop it at that.
"Yet, Dean. Maybe it's pissing us off so we'll leave. Maybe it knows we are here and it just wants us to give up. I don't want to take that chance." Sam replied, turning the dial back down.
"Is there something you aren't telling me?" Dean had cut through the brief moment of silence after Sam's last statement. The music had drifted silently for a second too long.
"I have to be certain before I tell you." Sam replies a little too quickly. Dean swung the car over to the side of the road, shifted into park, and cut the engine.
"Tell me now." Dean ordered. There was little room for Sam to argue. He felt the intensity of Dean's discontentment. His emotions slipped under Sam's skin and Sam himself felt a surge of fury. He felt as if something was being hidden from him. That he wasn't able to be trusted. These sensations welled up in Sam's eyes then, feeling a slight sting in them as well. Did Dean want to cry? Searching for the answer in Dean's face proved useless, though. Sam couldn't decide whether Dean really wanted to cry or if Sam just couldn't take the beating.
"I trust you." Sam blurted out, a tear edging its way from Sam's eyelid. He felt the cool rush of it over his face and he quickly jerked his head to peer out the window.
Dean was taken aback. "Man, you're such a girl." Despite the harsh complaints from Dean, his hand reach over and touched Sam's shoulder softly. Sam could feel Dean's anger, frustration, and omitted emotions cease. They ebbed away slowly the longer Dean stared wholes into the back of Sam's head. Sam took a deep breath and turned back around.
"I think Ruby has something to do with this." He confessed. He glanced between Dean's emerald eyes, waiting to hear 'I told you so'. Thankfully enough, Dean just nodded. A small smirk placed on his face a few minutes later.
"See, that wasn't so hard." He chuckled and slapped Sam's shoulder.
"But. But... I'm not completely certain. Please, let's just think this through first." Sam reminded cautiously. Though Sam had cut off most contact from Ruby, he still felt some connection to her. She saved him from his loneliness.
"Yeah, yeah." Dean waved Sam off the conversation. Still, he muttered, "demon's are all the same". When Dean glanced over to check on Sam's face, he felt a little pang of guilt. Sam looked over at him and gave him the 'I forgive you, anyway' nod. Sam's eyes shifted from one of Dean's eyes to the other. He liked looking at the green fields they seemed to so easily reflect.
"Ruby." Sam whispered a little too nervously. For being a god damn hunter, he was being a pansy right now. Or at least that is what Dean would have said had he won the argument of coming with.
"The last few times you saw her, you wanted to kill her." Sam had said point-blank. "Besides, she's a lot closer to me when were alone."
"Just don't go doing the nasty just to find out if she's in on it." Dean shot jets of brooding emotion over to Sam. And Dean had the nerve to call him the brooding Nancy. Sam brushed it off as he still hadn't gotten around to telling Dean that he could, ya know, feel what he felt. Sam had gotten a little better at it, though. He could choose when to switch off his emotions- well not really switch them off. He was better at concealing his outward appearance. He still felt the tug on his heart strings, unfortunately.
Backing to the present, Sam could see a slight shine of leather making it's way to him. Then Ruby's eyes came into focus as well as her pale skin. The moonlight left little to light up her features, but he subconsciously filled them in.
"Finally want to get back to it, pretty boy?" Since when did she call him that? And why does she seem so pissed?
"Actually, I wanted to ask you something." He shifted his weight to his other leg, shuffling his hands in his pockets. He felt so bumbling then as he reminded himself that she could be in the middle of all this- the main cause.
"What? You think I'm such sick trickster or something?" She spat out, stopping a few feet sooner than she intended.
"Oh god, don't mention that guy- is beside the point!." His sentence mushed together haphazardly and he couldn't help it. He felt like he was twelve again, asking out a beautiful young girl to a school dance or something. What's with this? There is no way he was... no.
"I'm not in love with you." He blurted out immediately cursing himself. What the freaking hell?
Oh, and sorry about how graceless you'll feel after this. A voice echoed in his head again. Was he remembering something or was he just going crazy?
"Well, that's nice. I'm glad we can talk one on one like this." Her tone was sour, but she didn't seem all that phased about it. "Look, I'm done playing games. Are you on my side or not? Because right now, Dean is holding you back from what you need to do. You're the only one who can prevent this mother load of fuck about to shit itself all over this place."
"What do you mean 'my side'? I'm not taking anyone's side. Hell, I didn't even know there were sides!"
"You know damn well that Dean wouldn't approve of this. He never wants you to be the hero. He's too selfish to let that happen." Her arms were crossed now, hip jutted to the side and she leaned all her wait on it. The scowl on her face was evident of irritation and betrayal. Not that Sam needed body language to decipher her emotions.
"Well, maybe if Dean doesn't approve of it, that is a good cue to stop doing it." He felt less awkward now, envisioning himself in his brother's shoes. So cheesy, but it worked.
"Really, Sam? You're going to let this whole year of work crumble into dust? Just because your co-dependent brother decides to spring back to life for you?"
That took it too far. Sam was up in her face now, pinning her to the nearest wall he could find. His breath was rough and jagged, and out of context, it seemed like a sex scene waiting to happen. But Sam wasn't one for angry sex. He thinks. Isn't sure. He shakes his head trying to put his thoughts back into perspective.
"Don't- talk about my brother like that." His words came out fierce, but his eyes started to soften. She saved him one way or another.
"Alright... alright, Sam. I'm sorry." She was almost breathless. Was she getting turned on?
"Oh, don't do this to me now, Ruby. This is not the place or the time."
"What do you mean?" She seemed truly clueless. Right, she didn't know about it either.
"Shut up, alright? Tell me about this demon. And if it's you, I swear, Ruby-"
"It's not me you dolt. God, am I the only demon on this planet anymore?" She shoved Sam's arm off of her and repositioned her leather jacket. "It's not even a demon. It's something called 'The Fool'."
"Come again?"
"It's like a trickster. But it's not."
"Thanks." He mutters sarcastically. When he turns his gaze back to look at her, she is gone. "Yay, more research."
Sam got back to the hotel a little later than expected, but Sam had to take a breather. He'd finally had nice, clean, non-tense air to breath. When he stepped through the temporary housing, though, it hit him like a shit ton of bricks. Dean was self-loathing over on his bed, his arms crossed tightly against his chest and one of his legs rested on it's counterpart. He was nervously bobbing his foot in anticipation. He was so deep in perplexing though, Dean didn't notice Sam unlock the door and open it up.
"Dude, where have you been?" He nagged. If he went to go turn on the light, Sam would have-
He turned on the light.
"What are you gonna do now? Stare at me intentionally and accuse me of seeing a mistress?" Sam sat down at the all too familiar table and eased up the cover of the laptop. "Anyway, Ruby did give me a lead. She isn't the problem, by the way."
"How do you know for sure, Sam?"
Sam cleared his throat and Dean knew what was coming. "The Fool is titled Le Mat in the Tarot of Marseilles, and Il Matto in most Italian language tarot decks. These archaic words mean 'the madman' or 'the beggar', and may be related to the word for 'checkmate' in relation to the original use of tarot cards for gaming purposes." Sam took a glance at Dean.
"So, what, we're dealing with another version of the trickster? And I thought one was bad enough." Dean sat back against the headboard of the bed. scrubbing his hand on his face didn't ease much of the tension, but Sam could feel it made him feel comfortable. Sam thought about sitting down beside him, taking his own hand and brushing it softly across his face. Maybe that would make him happy. Or freak him- both of them- out.
"It's like that, but it's not." Sam winced at the uncanny echo of Ruby's words. "The trickster plays tricks because it's fun to him. But The Fool plays tricks because he wants other people to laugh. Or in medical times, it was a way to survive from the noose."
"Alright, so... what about the demon smoking out?"
"I'm guessing The Fool can be just as powerful- if not more- than the trickster."
"Great. How are we suppose to deal with this? I mean, just because it's not a demon anymore doesn't mean it's any easier to find." Dean sighed wearily. Nothing was going right for them in this fucked up town.
"That isn't exactly true." Sam added, ruffling in his jacket pocket. He'd taken the moment's reprieve from Dean to also check out a card shop along the way home. When it came to the job, Sam didn't mind picking a few locks and stealing some useless cards. He produced a set of Taro cards and placed them on the table beside his laptop.
"And?"
"I have no idea."
"Great one, dimwit."
