As you can see, I am still very much alive! I hope you didn't think I was abandoning this story...it's just that my real life has gotten in the way and add to that I just graduated from college last week. I'm not sure when the next update will be and I'm not about to leave you guys with an empty promise.
Mucho, mucho thanks to my awesome, wonderful beta Mizpah! I love you, Mum!
XXXXXXXXXXXX
"I am so not looking forward to this," Dean commented as he brought the Impala to a stop in front of a small-framed brick home nestled in between two others that looked nearly identical. In fact, the entire street looked like that, almost as if the developers were afraid to try something a little different.
"Why do you say that?" Sam asked from the passenger seat.
"Talking to kids about death—especially when it concerns their family? It's not anything a kid should have to deal with."
"You dealt with it, Dean."
"That was different." Dean pushed out of the car not giving Sam the chance to say anything. No matter what his brother threw in his face, it wasn't the same thing. He hadn't lost his entire family at once, not like Adam Jennings had. Sure he'd lost loved ones along the way, but it was something that came with the job—he could deal it. Maybe not in the most conventional of ways, but he could do it.
Straightening his tie, he led the way up the small walkway, preparing to give yet another grieving family another lie in order to find answers. He sometimes wondered how he could do it, but then he remembered it was for them. It was so he could find the answers that would give them closure. He needed no other reason.
"I get what you mean, though," Sam was saying as he rang the doorbell. "It can't be easy for the kid."
Dean was about to answer when the door opened, revealing an older gentleman with short, graying hair and gray eyes.
"Can I help you?" The man asked, regarding the brothers warily.
"Are you Mr. Jennings?"
The man nodded.
"Sir, I'm Detective Jones and this is my partner Detective Owens—we're with the State Police," Dean said, holding up a badge.
"Please, we've been through enough around here. Must we answer any more questions?"
"We understand that, sir. The local police called us—asked us to lend our assistance to the case."
"We know that this has been an incredibly hard time for you, but I promise you we won't take too much of your time," Sam said quickly, stepping into the conversation.
The man studied them for a long moment before finally allowing them to come into the home. He led them past the living room into the dining room where a woman with shoulder-length, graying red hair was sitting, sipping from a coffee mug.
"Alice, these are detectives from the State Police," the man said, introducing them. "They've come to talk about Helen and Micah."
Alice sniffled. "Haven't we been through enough of this, Jonah?"
"We're very sorry about your loss, ma'am," Sam said softly. "We don't mean to cause you any more grief, but we'd really like to figure out what happened and give you some answers."
"The local police said it was arson," she said bitterly.
"Yes ma'am, that's right," Dean said, taking a seat in front of her. "We want to find who's responsible for this. Now, is there anyone who may have had something against your daughter?"
Alice shook her head. "No, Helen was the sweetest girl. She was willing to do anything for anyone, no matter what."
"Our daughter didn't have a single enemy," Jonah agreed. "She always had a smile for everyone."
"Helen was a single mother, correct?"
"Yes, that's right."
"Would her ex-husband do something like this?"
"Phillip was a lot of things, but a killer wasn't one of them," Alice said.
"My dad would never hurt my mom or Micah," said a soft voice from behind the brothers. They turned around to see a teenaged boy standing in the doorway, watching them scornfully.
"Adam, I thought you were still sleeping," Jonah said, walking over to his grandson and pulling the teen close to him.
"You were there when it happened, weren't you?" Dean asked.
Adam nodded. "Yeah."
"Can you tell me about it?"
"Is this really necessary?" Alice asked. "Adam's been through enough. He doesn't need to relive this."
"I understand that, ma'am, but he may be able to help us out," Dean argued.
"He watched his mother and brother die! What could he possible say to help you out?" Alice asked, anger lacing her voice.
"Alice, if it can help and Adam feels up to it, maybe he can answer a few questions," Jonah said softly. "You want to know what happened to Helen and Micah, don't you?"
"Of course I do," she said tearfully.
Jonah turned to look at his grandson. "What do you say, Adam? Do you feel like talking to the police?"
Adam shrugged. "If it will help, I guess."
"Is there somewhere we can speak in private?" Sam asked.
"You can go in the living room," Jonah answered before addressing Adam once again. "If you need anything at all, Grandma and I will be in here, okay?"
Adam nodded and silently went into the living room, Sam and Dean following behind. As Dean watched the boy shuffle stiffly ahead, he couldn't help but feel the rage build up once again. Who got to decide that Adam had to lose his entire family? Who was pulling the strings, playing a cruel joke on a fifteen-year-old kid?
"What did you need to know?" Adam asked as he collapsed onto a reclining chair.
Sam and Dean sat down on the long, leather sofa, unconsciously mirroring each other's posture—elbows on knees, upper bodies inclined slightly forward. "Can you tell us what happened, Adam?" Dean asked.
Adam kept his head down as he fumbled with a thread sticking out from the chair. "I had a fight with my mom over something totally lame. I wanted to get away from her so I went to check the mail. Then my house blew up with my mom and little brother inside."
"Adam, did you see anyone at your house?" Sam asked gently.
The teen shook his head. "No," he said softly. He looked up at the brothers with tears in his eyes. "Why did I have to fight with my mom? I complained about watching my little brother and now I can never watch him again."
Dean swallowed thickly as he felt the anger threatening to spill over. He could see the guilt written all over the kid and it was something he would have to live with for the rest of his life. Dean had felt it when he'd watched Sam die back in Cold Oak—he'd felt there was something more that he should have done. He never should have let Sam go into that diner alone and set off the chain of events that had led to his little brother's death and the deal with the crossroads demon.
But Dean got something that Adam would never get—a second chance at life with Sam. Sure, he only had a year to do it, but that year was so much more than what anyone else could get.
"Adam, I want you to listen to me, okay?"
Adam nodded as he looked up at Dean.
"This is not your fault, you hear me? You cannot go around and blame yourself for something that you had no control over. If you were in that house, you would be gone too and imagine what that would be like for your grandparents." Dean glanced up as Alice and Jonah stopped in the doorway. "I know none of this makes sense right now and it's going to take a good long while for you to stop blaming yourself, but you've got to, okay? If not for yourself, then do it for your mom and Micah. They wouldn't want you to do this to yourself, would they?"
"No."
"Now, my partner and I are gonna get to the bottom of this, okay?"
"You promise?"
Dean could feel Sam's eyes on him, almost begging him not to give the kid an empty promise. But this was one promise Dean intended to keep. "I promise you."
Adam nodded. "Good."
Dean stood up and gave Adam a card with his cell phone number on it. "If you need to talk about anything, you give me a call, all right? Any time of the day."
"Thanks, Detective."
"Call me Dean."
"Thanks, Dean."
Dean was about to leave the teen to his thoughts when a picture on the fireplace mantle caught his eyes. Slowly walking towards it, he noticed it was of Adam and a younger boy he assumed to be Micah. "Is this your little brother?"
"Yeah, that's Micah," Adam answered with a fond smile.
Dean felt as if someone stabbed him in the gut as he took in the two smiling boys. At a quick glance, he could have sworn he was looking at Sam's twin—the boy look just liked his younger brother. "You two look happy together."
"We were. I mean, he could be a total dork at times but I loved him."
Dean smiled as he shot a glance at Sam. "Yeah, I know the feeling." Turning his attention to Adam, he said, "Remember what I said about calling me, okay?"
"Okay."
The Winchester brothers walked out of the living room, Alice and Jonah following closely behind. Before they could walk out, Alice reached out a hand and grabbed Dean's arm. "Thank you."
Dean frowned. "For what?"
"For what you said to my grandson. He's been having a really hard time and I think he needed to hear that from someone other than us."
Dean smiled thinly. "You're welcome."
The brothers walked out of the house and to the Impala without a word. As soon as they were seated inside, Sam turned to face his sibling. "What if we can't do it, Dean?"
Dean narrowed his eyes. "What if we can't do what?"
"Give that family the answers they need."
Dean shook his head as he started up the Chevy. "There's no question about it, Sam. We're going to find out what's been happening around here before any other family has to go through what they have."
Robbie Mallette could hardly contain his elation. They were here! The Winchester brothers are actually here!
He had to be honest with himself— when he first agreed to go along with Gordon's plan, he didn't think the brothers would fall for it. They were smarter than that—he knew from the time he spent with them and Gordon even told him so. But Gordon assured him their plan would be foolproof, and it looked like the vampire hunter was right. Sam and Dean were within their grasp now—all they had to do was strike.
Robbie had to learn to pace himself though. He knew he couldn't do anything to ruin what they'd worked so hard to achieve. He couldn't let Gordon down like that, namely because he knew the man could kill him. Gordon was well trained and while he was teaching Robbie the ropes, it still wasn't enough to defend himself against the crazed man.
"I thought you were going to sleep all morning," Robbie commented as Gordon walked into the kitchen and headed straight for the coffee pot.
"Is it such a bad thing to sleep in every once in a while?" Gordon asked.
Robbie frowned. "No. I just found it unusual, is all."
Gordon didn't say anything as he poured himself some coffee and sat down at the table across from Robbie. Robbie studied his mentor and couldn't help but notice the worry lines etching the man's face. Gordon looked perturbed about something—it could have something to do with the phone call he got last night, but Robbie couldn't be sure.
"What's wrong?" Robbie asked tentatively.
"Nothin'." He took a swig of his coffee. "At least nothing I can't handle."
"Is it about our plan?"
"I don't know…maybe." He fixed Robbie with a look when he noticed the kid's shoulders sag. "Don't worry—like I said, I'll take care of it."
Robbie nodded. "Okay." Then he brightened up. "The brothers are here."
"How do you know that?"
"I saw their car at the local motel."
"You didn't try anything, did you?"
"No. You know I wouldn't do something like that."
Gordon nodded. "Just make sure you don't. We can't afford for you to do something stupid just because you're excited. You do that and you'll end up getting the both of us killed."
"You have my word."
"Good." Draining the last dregs of his coffee, he got up from the table and washed his cup out in the sink. Before walking out of the room, he turned to look at Robbie again. "I mean it, Robbie. I won't let you screw this up."
Robbie nodded, watching as the hunter walked away. He really didn't want to disappoint Gordon, but he also didn't want to be treated like a child either. Gordon had been angry with him when he'd found out one of the Jennings' boys was still alive. He'd told Robbie if he was going to take on a job, then he needed to make sure the job was finished. Robbie had assured him Adam never saw him and was surprised when Gordon had let it go so easily.
Robbie wouldn't do anything else to mess this up, but Gordon never said anything about him not at least keeping an eye on the brothers.
"Have you found anything?"
Sam looked up at the sound of Dean's voice and for a fleeting moment thought about clipping him on the side of the head. It wasn't that he was frustrated at his older brother—well, not entirely anyway. It was just that research took so long and it didn't help that they'd been at it for the past three hours or so. Mostly Sam, since Dean couldn't sit still long enough to achieve anything constructive.
Instead, Sam let out a weary sigh and rotated his neck until he heard several satisfying pops. "You asked me that about ten minutes ago, Dean. Which, when I think about it is an improvement from you asking me every five minutes."
Dean shrugged as he took a seat beside Sam. "I decided to shake things up for you a bit. I know how you like to have your life spiced up whenever you can," he offered with a smile.
Sam cocked his head to look at Dean. "That's you, Dean. Not me. I'm perfectly content with the way I go through life."
Dean's smile grew wider. "Yeah, that's true. Speaking of some spice, I really could go for some chow right now."
Sam's stomach growled at the mention of food. It had been a while since they'd grabbed something for lunch and even that was just a cheeseburger. "Yeah, I could go for something, too." He began to gather up his papers, placing them in a neat pile. "Then I can tell you what I found out."
"So, you do have something?" Dean swatted Sam on the arm. "Dude, you were totally holding out on me."
"No, I was being selective in what I shared."
"You didn't share anything."
"Thus me being selective."
Dean rolled his eyes as he pushed open the doors to the library. "Smartass."
Sam chuckled as he followed his brother down the sidewalk. Dusk was beginning to settle in the small town, the sky painted in pink and amber hues as the sun dipped below the horizon. A few of the citizens were out at this time of night, but for the most part Oneida was pretty quiet. Such is the charm of a small town life…
About a block from the library, they found a small diner, the neon sign advertising that breakfast was served all day long. As the brothers pushed through the single glass plated door, a tiny bell announced their arrival. A young waitress with curly auburn hair looked up from the counter.
"Ya'll just take any seat you want," she said in a heavy southern drawl as she smiled at them.
Sam returned the smile and he noticed Dean's eyes linger on her as he led them to a booth in the very back of the eatery.
"And I thought Oneida didn't have any sights to take in," Dean commented, smirking at Sam as he slid onto a bench.
"Again with that downstairs brain of yours. Do you ever give it any rest?"
"Now where would the fun in life be if I did that, Sammy?"
Sam just shook his head in wonder, saved from answering his brother as the waitress came to their table, setting two glasses of water in front of them.
"Do ya'll know what ya'll want?"
Dean nodded. "I'll take your special with a black coffee."
"Okay." She jotted the order down on her pad and glanced at Sam. "And you, sweetie?"
"Short stack with an orange juice," he answered, grinning politely.
The girl smiled at them. "I'll be right back with your drinks."
Sam snorted as he noticed Dean watching her leave, his eyes never straying from her backside. Clearing his throat a little too loudly, Sam pulled out the papers he'd gotten from the library and passed them over to Dean.
"What's this?" Dean asked, shooting a mild look of annoyance at his sibling.
"Those would be all the reports of fires in the area within the last week alone."
Dean flipped through the pages, his brows rising in surprise. "There has to be at least fifteen reports here."
"Yeah, but it—" Sam stopped as the waitress delivered their drinks and picked it right back up as soon as she was out of earshot. "It never involved any deaths until the Jennings family."
Dean frowned as he gulped down some coffee. "That doesn't make sense if it's a demon involved. They usually like death with their destruction."
Sam shrugged. "Maybe this one is different." He pulled out more notes from his bag. "I found mention of one demon that could possible fit the M.O. Its name is Cheitan—a demon of smoke, sort of low-level so something like this would be right up its alley."
"But why would it decide to kill now if it's only been intent on destruction so far?" Dean asked.
Sam shrugged. "Who knows? I mean, who knows why half these demons do anything they do?"
Dean sighed. "Okay, so we find this bastard and we exorcise it, right?"
"That's the usual plan we go in with."
"Hasn't failed us so far," Dean pointed out.
Sam cringed. "And you probably just jinxed it for us."
Dean smiled but didn't say anything as the cute waitress came back with their orders. The brothers ate in companionable silence, both letting any lingering thoughts about the case escape with the home-cooked meal in front of them.
"So, do you have any idea where we might find this demon?" Dean asked as he polished off his last piece of bacon, dipping it into leftover yolk of his eggs.
Sam shook his head, wondering again about his brother's habit of unhealthy eating. "All the reports say there were no witnesses to the fires and we know that Adam didn't see anything."
"So, it's basically playing hide-and-seek in a town full of people?"
"Yep."
"What else is new?" Dean muttered. Draining the last dregs of his coffee, he pulled out a few bills from his pocket and placed them on the table for the waitress as a tip. Sam gathered up all of his materials and followed his brother to the register where Dean paid for their meal.
"Ya'll be sure to come back and see us," the waitress said with a dazzling smile.
Dean offered a dazzling smile of his own as he plucked a toothpick from the dispenser in front of the register. "We wouldn't dream of going anywhere else."
"God, you sure know how to lay it on thick, Casanova," Sam teased as they stepped out onto the sidewalk.
"You're just jealous that you don't have my style, Sammy."
"Oh, yeah, I'm sure that's—" Sam drew in a startled breath as he glanced across the street, a vaguely familiar figure catching his eye. The guy leered at him, a cruel smile forming on his face.
"Dude, what's your problem?" Dean asked, stopping to glance back at Sam.
It can't be…there's no way possible… Sam's gaze darted to Dean before quickly returning to the opposite side of the street, but the figure was gone.
"Sammy?"
Sam swallowed hard as he turned wide eyes to his brother once again. "Dean, I could have sworn I just saw Robbie Mallette watching us."
