Disclaimer: I don't own anything Supernatural-ey.

This chapter is shorter than the last. EXCITING.


"Dean!" Sam hissed. Dean grimaced at the squeaks of his wheelchair as he manoeuvred it over the darkened steps outside Millers Diner.

"Well I'm sorry. If you haven't noticed it's getting difficult to do the whole stealth James Bond thing. And I'm really not that far from James Bond. I'm dreadfully handsome, I'm a great shot, I get the girls-" Dean saw Sam smirk in the dim security light. "…most of the time… and I have a job where I get to kill things."

"But you kill things that are already dead. And you don't wear a suit."

"A suit would make the stealth bit even harder," Dean said, focused on retrieving something stashed under the wheelchair. He leaned over to reach further and the wheelchair tilted. Dean fell sideways to the ground but righted himself quickly, creating a series of squeaks and cracks that echoed through the back alley.

"Dammit Dean!" Sam exclaimed, forgetting to be hushed. He snatched the small container of lock-picking tools from Dean's wheelchair and turned towards the door. "Why did you come here if all you're gonna do is make noise? I can look around this place myself."

"Sam, you might need me to pick the lock. You've never been great at this type of-" Dean stopped when the lock clicked ceremoniously and Sam pushed the door open. "How'd you do that? The last time you tried to pick one of these locks you were fourteen."

"Well sometimes at Stanford I'd have to find a way into the library to get a book or something."

"I'd be proud if that wasn't so geeky." Sam let out a frustrated breath.

"I'm serious, Dean. This thing will be easier if you just let me do it by myself. I don't even think you can get in this door."

"Maybe I just shouldn't have come at all. You didn't need me to pick the lock."

"Well you seem to have a problem with staying in the room. But if that's over now, go back to the motel. Go watch Jurassic Park." Dean scoffed.

"Sam if I had a night to myself I wouldn't spend it watching Jurassic Park."

"You did have a night to yourself. And you spent it watching Hogan's Heroes and Letterman." Sam walked into the kitchen of the diner as Dean looked on through the doorframe.

"Maybe I don't want to spend another night watching bad TV. I need to have… fun." Dean said. Sam appeared in the doorway, clutching the EMF meter which was formerly a walkman.

"So you wanna go out to a bar or something later?" he said, walking back and forth trying to get a reading.

"No, I need more grown-up fun. Which you wouldn't be there for."

Sam stopped pacing the darkened kitchen and looked at Dean. "So you're gonna wheel around the local bar trying to pick up girls?"

"No. Maybe. I'd probably just give someone a call. That cute nurse at the hospital… Meredith?"

"What happened to wanting to stay with me in case something happened?" Sam asked with a small smile.

"I dunno, man. I think I was just whacked out on painkillers or something…" Dean said casually. Sam gave Dean a look. "Fine, I was worried. But hiding is stupid. I can't let it stop you and especially me from having fun." Sam nodded. "But… you're not going hunting by yourself." Sam rolled his eyes.

"Tomorrow night. It'll give me a chance to have some fun, too." Dean cast Sam a look. "Different fun."

"You finally gonna catch up with Sarah?" Dean asked, nodding knowingly.

"No. I was thinking Courtney. She gave me her number today. And she's local."

"Oh yeah. But Courtney? Really?"

"Well, I was planning on asking her about the diner. And what's wrong with her anyway?"

"That's just like you, geekboy, to only date for work. And there's nothing wrong with her. I just thought you and Sarah had this… thing going. You didn't seem to have the same sort of thing with this Courtney chick."

"Well, she's great. She's funny and we actually have a lot of stuff in common."

"Shit!" Dean exclaimed.

"Jealous?"

"No, I saw someone. Something, over there," Dean said in a whisper, pulling out a gun tucked down the side of the wheelchair. He looked over at the shadows at the end of the alley.

"Maybe it was the owner?" Sam asked, looking around. He stepped out of the diner kitchen and silently walked closer to the shadows. "I don't see anything."

They both heard a rustle of movement in the diner and the flick of a switch. The security light went out. Sam and Dean stayed still, listening. Dean cocked the gun and looked meaningfully at Sam. He carefully turned towards the doorway and looked inside, gun drawn. Sam clutched the dormant EMF meter and decided it didn't look very threatening. He cursed himself for not bringing a gun or rock salt.

Something dark stirred and Dean shot at it, smashing a window. It rushed towards Dean, knocking him out of the wheelchair which had become wedged in the doorframe. Dean swore and dropped the gun. It skidded out of reach of his grasp.

Sam instinctively scrambled over the wheelchair towards Dean, but the creature pushed Sam backwards and he slammed against a wall, knocking down shelves of ketchup and salt shakers. Dean awkwardly rolled his way closer to his gun and picked it up. Sam regained his balance and pulled out a thick curved knife. Dean fired a number of shots throughout the diner, missing Sam's leg by inches. The creature leaped out of the broken window and ran off, weaving through the neighbourhood.

"Well that was… fun…" Dean said, still flat on the floor. "Little help?"

"What was that?" Sam said, staring out the window as he helped Dean back into the chair.

"I dunno. But I got the feeling it had something against us. Did you pick up anything on the EMF meter?"

"Naw, but think it could be busted." Dean took his creation from Sam and quickly inspected it before putting it in his jacket pocket.

"Did you see it jump like that? And it pushed you pretty hard there," Dean said, indicating the ketchup-soiled shelves piled on the ground. "I shot it. It didn't even feel the shot."

"That wasn't a person. Might have been someone possessed. Could have been a lot of things, Dean."

"It still ran." There was a pause as the brothers stared through the broken window.

"We should probably go. We just broke a window, trashed a kitchen and fired a few rounds into a noticeboard," Sam said, surveying the diner in the darkness.

"I was just thinking that."


"So what was that you were saying earlier? You want the room to yourself tomorrow?" Sam asked Dean as they walked and wheeled respectively towards the motel. He glanced at his watch. "Well, tonight?"

"Yeah. I think it'd do you some good. You know, get… socialised…" Dean trailed off pathetically.

"I think it'd do you some good," Sam said as he opened the motel room door. "I need to go speak to Courtney anyway and 'maybe you wouldn't be so crabby all the time.'"

"Ha-ha. So you think this thing is tied to Millers Diner?"

"Dammit, this was clean," said Sam, taking off his ketchup soaked shirt. "Well it wasn't inside the diner. It only went in after we opened the door,"

"…so?"

"So it doesn't live there. But yeah, I think it could be related. But why would something be killing people associated with a diner?" Sam asked, more to himself than a disinterested Dean.

"Food poisoning revenge?"

"Unless it's just random-"

"Sam, shut up. I'm going to take my painkillers and then I'm going to sleep. And I am not listening to you anymore because my head hurts."

"Dean you are crabby."


Thanks for reading. Please review - because you owe me. ;-)