Chapter Seven: No Roads Left
Sam leaned forward and turned up the radio so that Guns N' Roses blared from the speakers, drowning out Lucifer's voice somewhat.
Dean peered at his younger brother from the corner of his eye but said nothing. What would be the point anyway?
All Dean could do was continue driving. He had to admit that the feeling of the US-63 felt good beneath the Impala's wheels. They had been driving for two hours and although it broke Dean's heart to do so, not in the direction of Whitefish.
Dean knew that Sam was ready to give up and disappear into Rufus' cabin but Dean could not let that happen. Dean had promised Sam he would find a way to help him and that was what he was going to do, even if it meant driving all over God's green Earth.
Just five more hours until we get to Hoxie, Dean told himself, just five more hours until I'm one step closer to fixing Sammy.
Dean jacked the volume on the radio up to its highest level and began to sing along to 'Breakdown' unabashedly.
W
Dean eased out of the car and stretched. He needed to refill the Camero and could also use a snack himself.
Leaning his arms on the rim of the open driver's side window, Dean peered into the car and saw that his brother was scrunched against the door.
"Sammy? You okay?" Dean asked quietly.
Large green eyes stared back at him and Sam nodded without speaking.
"I'm just gonna get gas and something to eat," Dean told his brother, "You want anything?"
Sam didn't react and Dean took that as a 'no'.
Dean had turned down the radio when they'd pulled into the parking lot and now he saw his brother's hand twitch on his lap as though Sam was itching to crank up the tunes again.
Dean straightened up and wiped a hand over his mouth, fingers scratching at the stubble accumulating on his chin.
The bell above the door tinkled as Dean stepped inside the gas station. There was one other person inside besides the girl at the cash register; a businessman who appeared to be trying to figure out whether he wanted Aquafina or Dasani bottled water.
Shaking his head, Dean turned his attention to more pressing matters- snacks for the drive to Hoxie, for instance.
He stared at the array of snack foods for a moment before grabbing a big bag of M&M's, a box of Twinkies and a bottle of Coke.
Frowning, Dean knew he should grab something for his brother but he just wasn't sure what Sam would eat.
Steering away from all the sugary junk food- which appeared to be what the gas station mostly carried- Dean paused when he saw an open box of energy bars.
He peered into the box and grabbed a couple of vanilla-flavoured ones, thinking that they were mild enough that his brother might just eat them.
Dumping his stash at the register, the cashier- a tiny girl with brown hair done up in a ponytail and blue baseball cap- eyed the odd combination.
"Hold on a sec," Dean said and made his way across the store, pushed open the sliding glass door on the refrigerator and plucked out four bottles of water. The businessman had apparently decided to forgo the water dilemma and had wandered over to the coffee machine near the back.
Returning to the counter, Dean paid for the snacks in cash- also getting twenty dollars worth of gas- and pointedly ignored the pouty expression the girl was giving him because he was completely uninterested. All Dean wanted to do was get back to his brother and get to Hoxie.
Stepping out of the tiny store, Dean sighed with relief when he saw that his brother was still in the car, albeit crammed against his door with his knees pulled up to his chest, but at least he hadn't taken off or something.
Dean paused to sit the bag of groceries on the driver's seat and take a quick inventory of his brother.
Kid's eyes were closed and he had his hands over his ears. He didn't answer when Dean called his named softly.
"Damn it," Dean cursed as he withdrew from the window and began pumping his paid-for gas into the Camero.
As Dean held onto the nozzle for the gas pipe, he kept a close eye on Sam. Worried that his brother was drifting farther and farther away from him.
Stay with me Sammy, Dean thought at his brother, don't you dare leave me. I can't do this alone. Stay strong for me Sam. You keep fighting it and I swear to God I'll find a way to fix this.
Setting the gas pump back into its holder, Dean wiped his hands on his jeans before opening his door. He pretended not to notice when his brother cringed away from him as he sat down.
Closing his door, Dean reached out to his brother.
"Hey, Sammy. Sam, it's okay, man. We're gonna go now, okay?" Dean put one hand on his brother's arm and frowned when he felt how tense the muscles were.
Sam didn't answer; just stared at Dean as though he was afraid his brother was going to bite him.
Okay, Dean thought; okay, you know how Sam gets sometimes. Just drive and he'll be fine in a little while.
Gunning the Camero's engine, Dean pulled out of the gas station parking lot, pointedly not looking at Sam.
W
A half an hour passed before Sam relaxed… more out of exhaustion than anything else, Dean thought.
He watched from the corner of his eye as his brother's tenseness evaporated and his chin hit his chest, eyes closing.
Dean gave a little sigh of relief, happy that his brother hadn't had a full on panic attack and turned on the radio, smiling when 'Old Time Rock and Roll' came on.
Dean knew Sam hated Bob Segar but he didn't care, he wanted to celebrate a little bit.
He saw that his younger brother was fast asleep and smiled a little.
At least he's getting some rest on his own without me having to dope him up with sleeping pills; Dean thought and then rubbed a hand down his face. He shouldn't even have to be drugging Sam into unconsciousness every time Dean decided he needed a nap.
Grinding his teeth, Dean turned up the music; Sam didn't stir.
Dean was glad Sam was asleep. He didn't want his brother to see his moment of weakness; Dean had to be strong for the both of them now. Dean had to hold it together because Sam couldn't.
"Damn it!" Dean slammed the heel of his hand on the steering wheel and turned off the radio; he didn't want to listen to the happy-go-lucky sounds of Segar singing about how much he enjoyed classic rock.
As Dean pressed down on the gas pedal, the Camero jerked forward before riding smoothly down the highway.
SPN
Lucifer has taken up residence in the backseat of the Camero. Sam tries to ignore him because he isn't real. He isn't real. But it's hard. It's hard not to listen to the Devil when he's speaking just inches away from Sam.
Sam curls in on himself, leaning against the door of the car- trying to put as much distance between himself and Lucifer in the confined space.
"From his brimstone bed at break of day, A walking the Devil is gone…" Lucifer recites with a grin.
Shut up, shut up, shut up! Sam puts his hands over his ears but nothing helps.
"To look at his snug little farm of the earth, And see how his stock went on…"
You're not real! You're not real! You're not real!
"An apothecary on a white horse, Rode by on his vacation, And the Devil thought of his old friend Death, in the Revelation…"
"Sammy," Dean's voice broke in, "Sammy, its okay… I'm right here."
Lucifer laughs in Sam's ear and continues.
"Sammy, c'mon man, you were right with me," Dean begs, "Please stay with me."
Dean sighs, Sam acts as though he can't hear him.
"Wow, big brother's still trying to find a way to get rid of me, I see," Lucifer says and Sam clenches his eyes shut.
"I wonder how long it will take him to realize that I'm never going away," The Devil mused, "I mean, you know that, don't ya, Sammy?"
No! You are not real! You're a hallucination! Dean's gonna find a way to fix this! Sam thinks desperately because that was the only thing he had to hold onto: the belief that Dean would find a way to send the Devil back to Hell.
"Oh no Sammy, it's gonna be just you and me. Forever."
Sam can't help the sob that escapes him at the thought of this going on for the rest of his life.
"Sammy," Dean's voice calls, "It'll be okay, really, I'm gonna make it okay."
Sam hears his brother's voice crack as he speaks and he feels the Camero skid to a stop on the gravel shoulder of the road.
Sam feels a hand on his upper arm and he knows its Dean.
"We're not much farther to Hoxie," Dean says, "Just an hour or so and then we'll find this lady from Missouri's paper and she'll fix you up good as new."
Sam doesn't open his eyes; he swallows against the lump in his throat.
"Just a little longer, Sammy, and then this will all be over," Dean assures Sam but his words mean nothing. Dean promised Missouri would help him and she couldn't. Sam was not going to get his hopes up again.
Lucifer snorts with laughter from the backseat, "Does your brother even listen to himself when he speaks? It's always 'it'll be okay Sammy; I'll fix it Sammy, just hang in there Sammy blah blah blah.' It's pathetic. What happened to the Dean Winchester who once thought he could kill me with that Colt of his, hm?"
"So pride does come before the fall," Lucifer's amused voice continues.
"SHUT UP!" Sam shouts out loud, lashing out at Dean, unintentionally, and clipping his brother's jaw with his fist.
Dean leaps back- not far because of the seatbelt- and then grabs hold of his brother's flailing limbs.
"Sammy! Calm down! Hey, you gotta relax!" Dean pins his brother's arms to his sides and sees Sam's chest heaving.
"Shhhh, it's okay. I'm going to fix this okay. I will fix this whether it's today or tomorrow or next week or month or, God forbid, ten years from now but I am telling you I will fix this," Dean speaks slowly to his brother, trying to let the words sink in.
Sam leans into his brother, his head against his chest. He feels a warm, gentle hand in his hair and he begins to relax.
Opening eyes to slits, Sam sees that the backseat of the Camero is empty. He takes a shaky breath and feels tears slide down his cheeks.
"It's okay, Sammy," Dean soothes, "I got ya. I'm not lettin' anything hurt ya."
Sam cries against his brother's chest for what seems like forever before Dean carefully pushes him away.
Looking down at his damp t-shirt, Dean gives a wry grin, "Thanks Sammy, I needed a bath."
Sam gives a small smile. He needed that chick-flick moment. He needed Dean to tell him that he was going to make things better. He needed his brother to fight the Devil in his head.
"Hey, I got some stuff from the gas station," Dean reaches into the bag that he'd placed in the back of the car, fishing out an energy bar.
"Figured you might want a snack," Dean offers the bar, "It's 'Vanilla Bean' flavoured or something like that."
One side of Sam's mouth turns up. Dean never really was a good with that sort of thing- give him a candy bar and he'd know exactly what was in the damn thing- but Sam is grateful for the gesture.
To make his brother happy, Sam unwraps the energy bar and takes a substantial bite, chewing thoroughly and slowly before swallowing.
Dean grins at his brother and takes a bag of peanut M&Ms from the same grocery bag.
Sam sets the remainder of the bar on the dashboard. He will not tell Dean that it tasted like ashes in his mouth.
As long as Dean is happy Sam is happy. Sam knows Dean only wants to save him from the damage done by the destruction of Death's wall but Sam, in his heart of hearts, is starting to have doubts that it can ever be repaired. He's starting to think that maybe Lucifer is right.
SPN
Dean was exhausted by the time they entered the city limits of Hoxie, Arkansas. It was a small city; a little over two thousand people called it home.
Sam was leaning against the opposite door, his eyes closed and breathing shallow but even.
Dean ran a hand through his hair as he kept his eyes sharp for a motel they could stop at.
He pulled into the parking lot of a motel that had no name. Whatever, the name isn't the important thing; Dean thought as he stopped right in front of the office and stepped out.
The office was small and old but clean. The floors were scuffed wood, the walls were cream-coloured; the desk was cheap ply board covered with faux cherry wood but it was free of graffiti.
A middle-aged man sat behind the desk, doing a crossword puzzle, and looked up as soon as Dean entered. Dean peered at the man; he was medium height and build, with a neatly trimmed blonde mustache and sandy coloured hair. His blue eyes peeped out from behind gold-rimmed glasses. He wore a white knitted sweater- even though it was summer- and Dean thought he looked like he could be anybody's uncle. Why then did a shiver run down Dean's spine when their eyes met?
Ah, you're just on high alert because you're a hunter, Dean told himself. Even little old ladies start looking like a threat eventually.
"How can I help you?" The man asked and put his pen behind his ear.
"I'd like a room- one with two single beds if you've got it," Dean answered and became edgy, worried about leaving Sam alone. Dean peered over his shoulder to glance out the large window at the Camero. The man turned to the row of keys on hooks behind him and picked one.
"Room 6," The man held out the key with its red plastic fob.
"Thanks," Dean muttered and took the key.
As soon as the door swung shut behind Dean, the man grabbed the receiver of the old, light green telephone that sat on the desk and punched in a number. His gaze never wavered from Dean's back as he watched the young hunter get into his car and drive around the side of the motel and out of sight.
W
Dean was happy to see that Sam was still asleep when he opened the Camero's door and slid into the driver's seat.
Might as well wake him now, Dean thought; although reluctant to do so.
Sighing, Dean reached out and put a gentle hand on his brother's shoulder.
"Sammy? Wake up," He said quietly and Sam jerked into consciousness.
"Hey, it's okay," Dean immediately told him brother when Sam's face became a mask of confusion.
"We're in Hoxie," Dean said, "Arkansas."
"Oh, okay," Sam muttered and curled back into the seat again but didn't shut his eyes.
Dean rubbed his face with a hand and turned on the car, driving around to where their room was.
The room was at the end- Dean was grateful for that- and he saw that the room beside was unoccupied.
Dean got out of the Camero first and looked around the parking lot. Other than theirs, there were only three other vehicles.
"God I love small towns," Dean muttered, glad that they would have some privacy.
Peering into the car, Dean saw that Sam saw sitting up straight but he seemed okay for the moment.
"C'mon Sammy, let's check out our new crib," Dean tried to smile when Sam nodded.
Dean grabbed their duffle bags from the Camero's trunk while Sam got out of the car, moving slowly and cautiously.
As soon as Dean was within reach, Sam grabbed the sleeve of his shirt in his fist. Dean didn't protest.
Setting the luggage on the ground, Dean unlocked the motel room door and stepped inside, pulling Sam with him.
The place looked pretty clean, although it looked like it hadn't been occupied in a while. The carpet was an off-white colour, the walls neutral beige found in many motels with a band of flowery wallpaper at the top, and most importantly- there were two beds.
Dean could have cared less about the hulking black television atop a faux oak chest of drawers or the dark-stained table and chairs in one corner. Dean was sure he wouldn't be watching much TV anyway.
Sam let go of his brother's sleeve and Dean grabbed the duffle bags.
"You hungry, Sammy?" Dean asked as he closed the motel room door.
Sam shook his head and Dean frowned.
"All you've eaten since breakfast was one bite of an energy bar," He protested. He didn't want to sound bitchy but Sam had to eat.
"All you've had are some M&M's," Sam countered.
Dean ran a hand through his hair, "Okay, I'll eat if you'll eat. Deal?"
The expression on his brother's face told Dean that eating was the last thing on his mind but Sam nodded.
Damn kid's a trooper; Dean thought and fought not to smile.
Twelve minutes later they were back in the Camero, Dean driving around trying to find a diner.
As he searched, Dean made a list of what they needed to do: Eat, find the lady who can fix Sam, get our butts back to Whitefish…
Dean wondered just what they would do if Sam was cured. He thought that surely his brother would be healthy enough to go hunting again, maybe even eventually go after Dick Roman and his pals… like he'd wanted to in the first place.
First things first, get Sammy fixed up and then we can go from there.
Dean parallel parked beside a restaurant called 'FAMILY DINER' and got out of the car. He waited as his brother got out, looking at the buildings around them.
The stores were almost deserted and Dean wouldn't have been surprised to see a tumbleweed roll past. There was a hardware store, a pharmacy, the oh so original FAMILY DINER, a Baptist church, a clothes store…
Nobody ever has to leave, Dean thought as he peered at the red and white barber's pole beside the butcher's shop.
"C'mon Sammy," Dean muttered and led his brother into the diner.
1. Chapter title comes from a Linkin Park song of the same name.
2. The passages that Lucifer recites after Sam and Dean leave the gas station are from the poem 'The Devil's Thoughts' (1835) by Robert Southey and Samuel Taylor Coleridge.
3. Thanks to sarah (Guest), Samstruck, d767468, LeighAnnWallace, jack62192, and SPN Mum for reviewing.
4. Thanks to everyone who alerted/favourited.
5. Reviews are hugs!