Dean fumbled with the keys in the ignition. Cas was to arrive in a few hours and Dean was not mentally prepared to face him again.
Sam did not bring up the subject again after the kid Eric was pulled away by his parents, and to Dean, that was a relief. Now that they had a lead this meant that their minds would be focused on finding this Aryan Harrison. On the other hand, Sam was not talking to him at all, unless it was a few words exchanged about the case at hand. Well, words maybe isn't the appropriate term to describe the situation. More like grunting a response to whatever Dean asked.
Sam just didn't understand, did he now? He did not understand what it meant if he just opened himself up. Bad things happen when one opens one's heart to someone, especially in a situation like they had. And anyway, he did a fine job to prevent anything happening. After the fight him and Cas had before Cas left to find the Fruit, he would not be surprised if Cas spoke to him at all.
What have I done? Dean thought as he gently turned on the car. The two people that matter most at the moment are not talking to me, all because of my stupid, unnecessary feelings.
But that didn't matter. Dean had tasked himself to find this Aryan Harrison and to learn what exactly happened to the Harrisons, and if the rumours were true or not. Did he really kill his brother because of jealousy? or was it just a misunderstanding between him and the rest of the little town of Arrowsmith.
XXX
As Dean pulled up into town, there was only one place he could think of to start finding out about the suspect: the most popular bar in town. Luckily for Dean, he had a friendly relationship with the barman, and the best place to get all of the gossip is from the barman.
The Woodcutters Arms was wide open and bustling with the regulars, even though it had barely hit noon. The town drunk was already on his third bottle, the rebel teen love interests had already snuck in for their first unofficial date, the barman, Shaun, already had customers piling up for his infamous apple cider. I say infamous because it had been banned in the state already for being an incredibly potent drink. Legend has it, that a child mistook it for apple juice, had a small sip and nearly went into a coma.
Anyway, Dean strode up to the counter, nudging a few men away to get to the barman. They were so drunk that they did not even take offense to such an action. They grinned at him inanely. Dean gave an uncomfortable smile back before he signalled Shaun.
"Ahh, me favourite customer." Shaun's Irish accent seemed out of place in such a town, yet it fitted right in. "What can I do fer yah?" He leant in and whispered in a confidential voice. "Is it Iris? She asked fer yah, yah know? Especially after yeh little date a few nights before."
Dean's stomach turned. He had forgot about his one-night stand with Iris, the waitress. It was right after Cas left and Dean felt a need to…relieve his anger, if you know what I mean. The waitress had been flirting with him since he first walked into the bar, and he figured she would happen to be the best person for that moment. It was cruel, and he knew it, but a little insecure part of him wanted to confirm a niggling doubt in his mind.
"Uh, no, that is for a later time. I need a little information."
Shaun uncapped a beer for Dean, "Oh, yeah. What exactly do ya need?"
"I was hoping you had a little background about a man who recently moved here. Name Aryan Harrison."
Shaun raised his eyebrow. "Is tat so?" He wiped the counter, but did not lose eye contact with Dean.
He nodded, taking a sip from the bottle. "Yeah. So, can you tell me something about him or not?"
Shaun looked left and right, as if that didn't look conspicuous enough with the multitude of people there.
"Well, me memory is a bit blank at the moment. I might be reminded if…"
Dean slid a hundred-dollar bill without question. "Just tell me what you can."
The barman pocketed the bill and leant in close. "Well, Aryan happens to come by regularly. Sometimes with a bird by his side, but lately I have only seen him once, alone, lookin' like death. He paid off his tab and without another word, left. Methinks he is out in his cabin in the forest, hiding from something. Maybe the lady's husband, I know she was married to another bloke, found about it and is right mad about it. But what do I know?"
Shaun leant back and continued to serve his illegal drink to those who asked. Not another word was said between the two, but that was all he needed to know where to go next.
"Thanks, man." He downed the drink before he paid and left.
XXX
Sam was on the other side in Arrowsmith. He was going to continue with trying to find information from Sadie Smith-Pearson. But to Sam the only information he really wanted was from why his brother was the way he was. He simple could not understand why Dean acted all secretive about it when he clearly overheard the fight Dean and Castiel had just before the angel left.
There was something between the two that pissed him off more than anything in the world. It was a shot in the dark the night before, confronting Dean like that. The truth is that he really did not what Dean felt, but there was something within Sam that told him there was something more to those casual glances and sarcastic responses. There just has to be!
But that was a problem for a later date. At that moment the only thing that was on his mind was the women in the hospital.
XXX
Sadie Smith-Pearson was barely conscious when Sam Winchester, or Detective Granger, entered the room.
The sunlit room emphasised the amount of tubes filled with glimmering liquid entering her system. The bandaged slash on her forehead and the bruised patches on her skin were evidence enough of the situation she founded herself in.
The consistent beeping of the heart monitor raised changed to quicker, sharper notes when Sadie saw Sam with his fake FBI badge. Her eyes widened in fear and her chest rose and fell at a tremendous pace.
"It is alright Mrs Smith-Pearson, I am just here to ask a few questions about the death of your wife."
There was no response from the still woman, only tears from dull eyes her dripped down her cheek. She had to be about twenty-five, but the creased lines on her face told Sam that mentally she was about a hundred and twenty-five.
"Look, I know how it feels to lose someone you love. It has happened to me more times I care to count, but the only way we are going catch the person who did this is by any information you can give to me. Absolutely anything will help."
Silence.
Sam sighed. Today was just not the day. Emotions were still raw, and words cannot be spoken without breaking into tears.
He turned on his heel and walked towards the door. Just, though, as his foot touched over the line a weak voice from behind him said:
"Gary."
"Excuse me?" Sam turned his head to face the girl.
"Gary Tucker. He…he was the on-ne who killed Fae."
"Your wife?"
She nodded. Sam retraced his steps back to the woman in the bed. A nod towards the visitor's chair from her and Sam was already sitting attentive.
"It was about a week ago. My wife and I had a friend come over for lunch, Ozzy Tucker, Gary's husband. We were starting a boarding house for young, abused children who were kicked out of their house by their parents because of their gender or sexuality. Usually Gary would have joined us, but he wasn't there that day, not even his husband knew why. Only an hour into lunch we heard the doorbell ring." Sadie took a deep breath in. "And Gary was outside the door. I continued to talk to Oz when I heard a scream from inside the house. Ozzy and I ran to see the problem and I saw Gary there, with a spade and…and a furious glint in his eye. On the floor was my Fae, barely conscious with blood pouring down her face.
"'Gary, what the hell!?' Ozzy screamed. 'What has gotten into you?'
"He grinned a grin that I would never be able to get out of my mind.
"'Nothing! I have never been saner in my life! But I am angry. I am angry at the fact that you have been taking a great interest with the new counter-boy down at Dawn's Bakery.'
"'What are you talking about?' Oz replied.
"This was when Gary went on about Ozzy having an affair with the new assistant, Alex, down at the bakery. Oz kept denying it. Oz said that they sell the best donuts in the state, but that is all. Of course, Gary did not believe him.
"That was when he noticed me. He shouted at me, saying what was I looking at. He became even more erratic and without warning he swung the spade at me. The next time I woke up was the next morning when no-one was home. The only sound was the sound of gushing water. I went upstairs and…and…and."
"And what?" Sam asked gently.
"Water everywhere; the tap still running. And my dear wife, in the overflooded tub. All…all…" she took a deep breath. "All bloated. She was floating on the surface. I screamed, called 911, and fell on the floor. The next thing is that I am here, alive, but no reason to be."
Sam nodded. He felt the same way when Dean went to hell. He felt absolutely dead inside, yet he knew the only way to continue was to move on, but that was the last thing he wanted to tell the grieving widow.
"Thank you for your time, Mrs Smith-Pearson…"
"It is just Pearson now, Detective. Ms Pearson."
"Thank you, Ms Pearson. And if you can remember something else, no matter how insignificant, just call this number." Sam pulled out a card with one of the many numbers he had.
XXX
It was the fourth hour on the aeroplane when Castiel felt the sharp pain in his stomach again. It was not a physical wound, more an internal, sickening feeling, yet it was a ticklish feeling as well. It happened when ever he thought of going home, or seeing the brothers again.
This was strange, for an angel never felt pain like this. When he had lost his powers and purely human, he had felt pain like it, but usually it was when he ate something that disagreed with him or thought of the next move. Or Dean.
He groaned a little, much to the surprise of the lady next to him. It had happened again. She asked if he was alright, he said he was just feeling a bit sick.
"You must be a first-time flyer. I remember also being nervous the first time." She had a kind voice.
Cas turned to her, "Excuse me?"
"I said that I was also nervous the first time I went up in the air. It was a twelve-hour flight, but I was scared to even bare a glance at the food served to me in fear I would be sick."
Nervousness? Is that what this is? What do I have to be nervous about?
The image of Dean popped into his head and the swirl of nausea tumbled around his lower stomach.
"I must say, it has affected you more than it did me. Wait! I think I might have something to help you."
The lady picked up her bag from the floor and dug through it. She pulled out a small bottle of white tablets.
"Have one of these. They knock you out before you can say 'thank you'."
"Thank you, ma'am, but I am sure they will not solve the problem." Cas wrung his hands. He knew that nothing would come out of human-made medicine.
The lady shrugged her shoulders. "Suit yourself, but they are always here if you need one."
The only medicine that would work, is to not face what is in front of me at all.