CHAPTER 4

The bakery/gas station was also a small diner. From the smells that hit my nose when I got out I would guess that they had just finished barbequing some chicken.

"Wow! Do you smell that?" I heard Dean say, "Hey, Running Coyote? Where are you going?

I looked over my shoulder right before I got to the road's edge "For a walk, I'll be back in a few."

Dean wasn't buying it but I wasn't ready to talk. "It wasn't real, it hasn't happened." I told myself over and over, Dean's eyes, they'd been black, he'd been enjoying licking that blood. He'd looked so cruel, so evil. Every sense I had was responding to the vision. The way my heart was pounding it felt like I had just run a marathon, or three. Chills were running up and down my spine and I kept looking in all directions because I felt hunted. The Dean in my vision, every fiber and cell in his body wanted to kill, to desecrate, to destroy, he felt like what had attacked my friends.

If that wasn't bad enough how vision Sam felt was even more confusing. Sam wasn't Sam, but he was, but he wasn't. There was something else trying to override and control him and it screamed in rage when Sam tumbled down into the gaping, spiraling hole of nothingness. He had been looking at something when he fell, guilt and sorrow twisting his features, tears streaming down his face, his whole being resigned to falling into the abyss. I had caught something in the tilt of his head and the shape of his mouth right before he disappeared from view, relief and a weird sense of victory. Sam was proud of making this choice.

I frigging hate visions, "What the hell does all this mean?" I threw out to my guides, who, of course had become suddenly silent on the issue. "Typical." I thought there weren't a lot of perks to being a hunter, until I started following the Shaman path. Lots of confusion and responsibility and very few rewards, especially these days. "All right Coyote, get your crap together. Sam's going to tell Dean what happened. Maybe if I am really lucky Dean will listen when I talk instead of becoming even more belligerent then usual."

I stopped walking and gazed out into the prairie land that surrounded me. A breeze picked up brushing through the bits of my hair that had fallen loose from my braid. I felt my feathered earrings dance along the side of my neck in response to the wind's playful mood. Something was watching me, I shifted my eyes left and saw a coyote just standing there, in broad daylight. It's tail was slightly raised, ears and eyes locked on me "Hello brother," I whispered to it.

"You idjit." Was what I got in reply. I didn't hear it so much as the words just popped into my head.

"Seriously. What is this? The Great Spirit according to Bobby?" The coyote yipped at me, it sounded like a laugh, shook it's head and trotted away. "I should have remembered, life is always more complicated when you get the Winchesters involved. Fine! Have it your way." I spun on my heel, more frustrated than when I got out of the car but less panicked. Frustrated I can deal with. "Let's get this over with." I headed back up the street. The diner/bakery/gas station – things tend to multi-task a lot out in the rural parts of the country – had been blue at one point. If I had to guess I would say bright robin's egg blue. Now it was faded more into plains dust covered, wind beaten partly cloudy day blue- or rather blue-ish. The sign on the door had been recently replaced and it's bright colors and perky lettering spelling out, "Take a Load Off Diner" seemed almost garish in comparison. The furnishings inside were outdated but clean and there was a small fenced in porch with several large potted plants providing shade in the back. The porch gave you a great view of the plains and the purplish foothills in the distance. That's where I found the brothers, smack in the middle of an intense conversation.

They were sitting across from each other, plates of bbq'd chicken, potato salad, chips and baked beans in front of them. There was a covered plate to the left side of Dean in front of an empty seat. I assumed that was for me. In the middle of the table was an entire blueberry pie, my favorite, Dean had remembered.

"Sam, I don't care what we have to do. We let those demons out, they hurt people, we have to fix that. End of story."

I about fell over when I heard that. Dean was more willing than Sam?

"Look," Sam replied, "I know I'm normally the one that's all for trying new things, but this is a waste of time. We should be trying to find something to help you. The sweat ceremonies can take hours, hours we don't have."

Dean's fork slammed onto the table, I wasn't the person he was angry at and I stopped in my tracks. His jaw tightened from the effort he was exerting to not lash out even further at Sam, "Stop trying to save me Sam," his voice was low, almost guttural, "We do our job, we clean up our mess and we move on. Understood?

Sam's shoulders tightened but he looked away, ceding the point to his older brother even if he didn't agree. "Fine. Whatever."

Dean's features relaxed, then I realized what was driving his rage, it was fear. He leaned back in his chair and his eyes did the instinctive hunter motion, checking all around for threats or eavesdroppers and spotted me. I could see him wondering if I had overheard their conversation and the instant he realized I had, my face probably gave it away. We locked eyes, his narrowed in thought, he tried to smile but it didn't reach his eyes and looked more like a grimace then a grin. "We got you some food," he said, trying to pretend everything was normal.

"And pie I see, thanks." I decided to let Dean off the hook and follow his lead.

"Fair's fair," Dean replied with a small nod, "You bought my favorite, I get you yours."

I squeezed his shoulder as I walked by and sat next to him, "I didn't buy you a whole one."

"Who said all of this was for you?"

"So, I'm going to have to fight Sam for a piece and you get the rest?"

He nodded as he took a drink of soda, "Yup, that's the plan."

Sam had stayed sullen and silent throughout this whole exchange. He took a few more bites of food, gathered his plate and stood up, "I'll meet you guys at the cars when you're ready to go, I need a walk. I'll have them pack this to go." Then he left without another word.

I uncovered my plate, saw my food was still warm and tried the chicken. My taste buds immediately thanked me for it. "Damn!"

"Yeah. The couple that own the place know how to cook," Dean agreed with me.

"Everything ok?" I asked between bites.

The cars were in view of Dean and I and we watched Sam stride down the street.

"Not really, but nothing you can do to help. He was filling me on what you were talking about. You heard my answer."

"Do he tell you about the vision?"

He put his napkin over the now empty plate and finally focused his attention on me. "Yeah. I don't really want to know what you saw. I imagine it wasn't beer and beaches related."

That brought up a good memory, "Unfortunately no, and I don't think we have time to relive that night. Sam said he has visions now."

His face grew somber, "Did, does, who knows? I can't keep track anymore. He's...well, never mind." Sorrow touched his eyes and he rubbed his hand across his face like he was trying to gather his thoughts. "Look, if this Rising Dove of yours insists we have to do this ceremony, fine. I owe you from before and Sam and I brought this down on your family. I don't like it but it is what it is. Fair enough?"

"Fair, but Dean this is no go to church, say your prayers and leave an hour later. This is intense." He needed to fully understand what it meant, "It's, look, we believe the Spirits themselves can talk to us, through us, during all this. It's not something to walk into lightly." I wished I had never said those words, every part of his face stilled, there was no warmth, no life, no soul in him.

"You don't know what Sam and I have been dealing with for the past year so I'm going to let that comment slide. I'm not trying to offend you but your spirits have nothing on demons and I never walk into anything lightly, not anymore. Enjoy the pie, save some for me." Then he got up and followed after Sam, leaving me alone with my thoughts, which are not the best company to share pie with. I savored the food, it was really that good. I'm not a food critic or anything but when the potato salad you're eating makes you close your eyes and chew slowly just to get all the flavors you know there's something special about it. I lack the vocabulary to accurately describe the pie and I have a college education. I knew that the brothers would probably need some time to get their acts together, I had never seen them this intense or conflicted before. This trip was getting more and more challenging as it went, and I was thinking that my friend's being possessed was the worst thing that could happen.

Just as I was scraping the last bit of the slice of pie I had onto my fork, I saw them coming back up the street. I gathered up my dishes and the pie and went inside. The middle aged couple who ran the place were sitting behind the counter. The woman had short, curly, blonde hair, hazel eyes which seemed to always be smiling even if she wasn't and freckles on her pale face. She walked with a slight limp but still managed to always be bustling around behind the counter. The man that I assume was her husband was taller, with gentle green eyes, well worn but strong hands, tanned skin and mousy brown hair that was long enough to brush his collar. He always kept one eye on his wife and managed to always be right where she needed him to be if she needed to reach up for something or pick something up. It was obvious they cared for each other and were completely content being exactly where they were in life.

"Thanks for bringing your friends," the man said in resonant, deep baritone.

"You're welcome. Dean, the one with the shorter hair, is an absolute pie fanatic. The food was amazing too. I was in a rush when I came through earlier, I'm Running Coyote." I reached my hand over the counter to shake his.

"Lakota?" He asked. I was slightly surprised, the reservation was more than a day drive away and most white people don't bother to ask.

"Yes."

He paused and spoke slowly, "Wíyuškiŋyaŋ waŋčhíŋyaŋke lo"

I'm pretty sure my jaw hit the floor when he finished. "You speak Lakota!" He had even used the correct version of pleased to meet you.

"A little," he replied, a proud, shy smile spread across his face. "I'm Ralph."

"Wíyuškiŋyaŋ waŋčhíŋyaŋk Ralph." Woman don't use the "lo" at the end. "Where'd you learn to speak the language?"

His wife spoke up, "We've done some charity work on the Reservation, it's tragic what the Natives deal with. I'm Stella. We take a few weeks every year and work with charities like Habitat for Humanity or others. We found out through a blog we follow that your tribe suffers so much in the winters so we try to help and it's always fun to learn new languages."

I felt tears rising in my eyes, "Philámayaye," I had to thank them in my language I was too stunned to think in English. "Most white people don't even know we still exist."

Stella took my other hand and held it briefly, offering me some sort of comfort. "We didn't either, we're glad we found out." The three of us just looked at each other for a few minutes, I couldn't speak, I felt a few tears slide down my cheeks. Then Stella smiled, "Let me wrap the rest of that pie up for you. I'll put some ice packs in the bag so it doesn't get too warm in your car."

I handed her the pie and noticed they had some breakfast pastries for sale and took a minute to look around. The actual store part was only two small aisles of food and supplies but I noticed that what they sold was much higher end than most places. They had more fruit out, a wide variety of juices in the small cooler, coffee beans along with ground coffee but they didn't have just Folgers, there were a few fair trade brands as well. A few loaves of homemade bread, one was even gluten free and one was 12 grain sat in a small wicker basket and there was a much larger selection of healthy snack bars and not just candy.

"You have an interesting selection of items," I remarked.

"Long haul truckers sit all day and most truck stop food is atrocious for you," Ralph replied. "We figured we could do a little something to help them have a bit of goodness in their life instead of oil and sugar. Stella and I were worried that we'd lose business when the Flying J opened up down the way but turns out truckers actually like the variety. We live in that RV out back, it's solar powered and we drive to the RV park that's about 2 hours back when we have to drain our tanks. It works out pretty well. Our customers get a little healthier and we have everything we need."

"No wonder you two are so happy." They were living life on their terms, just like my people do. "I'll make a few phone calls, give it a few weeks and you'll probably be getting a lot more business. I have some friends that do a lot of driving and would have no problem going a few hours out of their way to eat here. Keep an eye out for classic cars like that Impala out there, though most won't be in such great shape. Those will probably be the people I am talking about." Once I told Bobby about this place it would quickly become a prime hunter stop. The only thing that attracts hunter more than hot women is good food.

"We'd appreciate that," Stella said as she handed me my now wrapped up pie.

I looked out the door and saw that the brothers were leaning against the cars, waiting for me. "Give me a second." I told Stella and Ralph. I opened the door, poked my head out "Hey guys, be right with you." The brothers nodded back at me.

I turned back to Stella and Ralph, "Wrap me up three of those apple turnovers, get me a pound of that ham in the case, two pounds of that potato salad, some of that sharp cheddar cheese." I grabbed a basket from by the door, picked up the 12 grain loaf, some of the fruit they had, a bag of the fair trade coffee, six of the snack bars and some delicious sounding actual mustard, not that crappy yellow stuff and a few other items.
"That should do it." They rang me up, I gathered all the bags.

"We look forward to seeing you again." Ralph said, then he looked at Stella, she nodded and spoke slowly, "Iyuskinyan wancinyankelo"

"It was nice to meet you too," I replied. "Thank you." They both smiled at me and I walked out.

"You planning a picnic?" Dean asked.

"I got dinner and breakfast."

Sam looked at me, smiling in response to the huge grin I had on my face, "The pie make you that happy?"

"No, well yes. They speak Lakota!" I blurted out. I sent a silent thanks out to the Spirits for the lesson I had just been given. Kind people are everywhere, sometimes I forget that.

"Really?" Sam replied, taking some of the bags out of my hand. "Isn't it a pretty hard language to learn?
"They know a few phrases." My words came out so fast I probably sounded like a kid who just came off a roller coaster. "I guess they've done some charity work to help my people and learned it there. Hold on." I pulled my phone out of my back pocket and called Bobby.

"Hello," his crusty old voice rang in my ear.

"Bobby, it's Coyote. Grab a pen and write this down."

"What's got you all riled up and excited? Get a new gun or a new car?"

"Neither, found great food," I replied.

"It must be good the way you sound, hold on." I heard rustling in the background, "Okay, shoot."

"It's a little diner off of SD-79 about an hour or so north of the Flying J. It's called Take a Load Off Diner, owned by Stella and Ralph. It's faded blue. Healthy food, home made pie, potato salad and bbq that will blow your mind and they sell a bunch of other things. Spread the word and tell them pay cash, not fake cards. I'm going to keep on eye on the place so if anyone starts trouble they'll be answering to me. Got it?"

"Who are these people to you?" Bobby knew I usually didn't stake claim or protect people that weren't my family.

"People who care. Good people."

"Got it. How are the boys?"
"Stuffed full of good food and smiling," I told him, which was sort of true. As I had been talking to Bobby both Sam and Dean had slowly been getting larger and larger grins on their faces. They knew, just like I did, that once hunters heard about this place Stella and Ralph would be seeing a rather large increase in their monthly income.

"I'll put the word out. Need anything else?" Bobby asked.

"Nope, thanks."

"Keep those boys out of trouble, Lord knows they can't seem to do it on their own."

I laughed, "Thanks for the Herculean task. I'll try. Catch ya later."

"Bye."

I hung up, "Let's go." I told the brothers.

"I'm getting tired of looking at the ass end of your car," Dean said, "And you've already driven enough today. Ride with me and let Sam drive."

He was still smiling but I saw the intent behind the suggestion, Dean wanted to talk.

"I guess I could use a break. Sam?"

"I get to drive and listen to the rest of your music. I'm good with that." I saw the look that passed between the two, they had already discussed this. I know when I'm being outmaneuvered and I was a little tired of driving.

"Ok, she turns better than you would think so don't over steer." I tossed him the keys.

"No problem."

I grabbed some of the juice that I had bought, packed the rest of the things in the back seat of my car and joined Dean in the Impala.

"Head south for about an hour, you'll see the Flying J on the right," I told him, "I stayed there last night and held the room and got one for you guys."

He turned the key, Baby purred and he pulled out of the parking lot.

"I have to give you this," I said, "I love my car but something about her purr always makes me smile."

Dean patted the dash and smiled, "Hear that Baby, speed ain't everything. You've got style."

I ran my hand across the dash in front of me, "Yes you do darlin'. You've got heart," I took a drink and looked at him. "So. Are we talking or are you pretending you don't want to talk for about fifteen minutes then going to ask a random question?"