Chapter 7 – A Little Corner of Nowhere

302-Days

Goodwell, Oklahoma – 7.42 am

Dean lay on the bonnet of his car, watching the sun as it rose over the pond. He had fallen asleep in the back of the Impala, and had woken to a chorus of birds at sunrise. He had gotten out and watched the sun rise, replaying his dreams over in his mind. He had dreamed mostly of the Doc and every time his dream even threatened to turn to something bad or painful, the Doc had stepped in making everything alright, like she had been watching over him.

Dean lay taking in the beauty around him, trying to brace himself for the day ahead. He'd have to go back to the hotel, and the prospect filled him with dread. He didn't want to face Sam, he didn't want to face what had happened, but time was marching on and they still had a legion of demons to find and destroy.

The early morning sun touched his face and warmed his skin like the touch of a lover and he knew what he had to do. Dean had sacrificed everything for the job, so from this point on, he would become the job, he would drive himself day and night getting as many of those hell spawn as he could.

He would go back to Sam and he would be professional, but as for their personal relationship, that would take a little more time. It was the only way that Dean could fathom even getting through the next three hundred days without running mad.

Reluctantly he sat up and slid off the bonnet of the car, slipping into the driver's seat and starting the car up so that it growled. Dean backed up and navigated his way back out onto the main road.

As he drove into town, his insides turned to stone as his resolved kicked in. He would do his job, then he would pay on his marker. It was what John Winchester had done, and it would be the same for Dean.

He drove into the hotel car park and parked the car out the front of the hotel room that he had shared with Sam. Opening the door quietly, Dean looked across the darkened room to where Sam was sleeping.

Despite the vow to keep everything business like, the image of his brother sleeping so peacefully hit him like a blow in the chest. This was his brother, the man who he had given his life to protect. He couldn't deny the fact that he loved him, no matter what Sam did, he probably always would. But that didn't mean that he had to like him terrible much right about now.

Dean fished around in his duffel for a fresh set of clothes and went into the bathroom to shower and clean up. He would be eager to get out of Goodwell and try and put the events that happen in this little town far behind him.

Sam was woken from his sleep, with a firm hand on his shoulder. He opened his eyes to see Dean there. He was wearing different clothes and his hair was damp from the shower.

"Sam, get up. Hit the shower and then pack your stuff. I want to be on the road in fifteen."

Dean's words were cold and hard like a command from a superior officer. Sam watched him for a moment as he busied himself re packing his duffle.

"Dean" he said his words full of relief. "Where have you been? I was getting really worried."

"I was out" said Dean sharply "Now stow the questions and get moving alright."

Before Sam could say anything more, Dean had slung his duffle over his shoulder and headed out the door to the Impala. So that was how it was going to be, Dean would avoid the topic and try and distance himself from what happened. Sam sighed heavily and slid off the bed, he wasn't going to press the issue now; he'd wait until he and Dean were on the road.

Sam showered quickly and packed up his gear. Looking up at the clock it was just past 8:15 and he noted that Dean had already packed the majority of the gear in the Impala with the exception of Sam's duffel. As Sam went out to the car, he saw Dean walking back from the check in office.

"You ready?" he said harshly, not making eye contact with Sam.

"Yeah" said Sam tossing his duffel on the back seat.

"Well get in" said Dean irritably as he opened up the door and slid into the drivers seat.

Again Sam sighed and slid in next to his brother. Dean very determinedly avoided his eyes and focused on driving them out of there.

"Where are we headed?" questioned Sam, trying to keep his tone mild, but getting slightly irritated at his brother's brusque attitude.

"Town." said Dean in a clipped voice "I have a quick errand I need to run before we leave."

"Are you meeting up with Hannah?" questioned Sam, feeling his control start to slip slightly.

"You're the psychic Sam, you tell me." hissed Dean, his shoulders coming up defensively.

Sam breathed out heavily; he could feel his brother's anger, just beneath the surface beating at him.

"Are we going to talk about this?" he asked, watching Dean's stony face.

"About what?" said Dean in his deliberately clipped tone.

"Come on man" said Sam tiredly "About what happened last night?"

"No" said Dean in a voice that brokered no opportunity for refusal, but Sam ignored it.

"Dean…."

Sam didn't even get to finish what he was going to say, when Dean cut him off. His response was explosive and full of the resentment that had been sitting deep within him all night.

"No Sam" he bit out "Just because you have all of these high and mighty powers doesn't give you the right to force yourself into other people's heads."

Sam sat a little taller in his seat determined to face his brother's wrath "A couple of months ago, you would have told me what had happened."

Dean turned his eyes on his brother cold and hard "You know something Sam, a couple of months ago you would have given me the chance to when I was good and ready."

Sam fidgeted under Dean's intense gaze, he had meant to just come out and apologise, but Dean's belligerent attitude, mixed with what his mother had said to him, made him feel a little more justified in what he did.

"None of this would have happened if you had just called me in the first place Dean." He said, hearing the defensiveness in his own voice.

Dean's eyebrow rose in shock "Whoa! So was that why you were really pissed at me, because I didn't call?" Dean huffed in incredulity "Be damn thankful that I didn't brother, because now you'll be able to sleep at night without images of a rapped and tortured five year old haunting your sleep."

Sam slumped in his seat feeling immediately contrite "You didn't have to go through this on your own."

Dean looked sharply away from his brother, unable to stomach thinking about this anymore. "I didn't" he said finally, and felt a familiar pain in his chest every time his thoughts turned to the Doc.

Sam was going to bring up his mother's suspicions with Dean, but he could feel that now was not the appropriate time. If he did, Dean would likely throw him out of the car and then where would he be. He decided it would be more prudent to wait until Dean was in a more rational frame of mind, so he kept a wise silence, watching his brother out of the corner of his eye.

As the Impala pulled into town, Dean pulled into a parking space, and without even looking at Sam, he issued the command to wait in the car before slipping out and jogging across the road.

Dean hurried over to the coffee shop. He had no idea what compelled him back to this place, but he was definitely under some compulsion to come back here. As he opened the door, he saw Ruthie and smiled, and spotted Abe, sitting in the same booth that he had been yesterday.

"Morning" he said to the old man, who looked up at him beneath his long grey eyebrows.

"Well I'll be damned." said Abe smiling and offering Dean a seat across from him. "I was almost sure that you wouldn't be back."

"Why?" said Dean with a smile, getting the most unbelievable sense of comfort just form the old man's presence.

"Call it a hunch" said Abe with a cheeky smile.

"Can I get you some coffee." said Ruthie sidling up beside them, and Dean looked up into her smiling face, remembering what the Doc had said. She smiled even with all of her worries and when he smiled back at her, he felt a kinship with this small town waitress.

"Yeah, can I get two to go please." said Dean and watched as Ruthie nodded and hustled off to get them.

"Well you must be just about the luckiest reporter of all time." said Abe taking a sip of his coffee and watching Dean over the brim.

"How'd you figure?" questioned Dean, smiling at the coy expression on the old man's face.

"I'm sure you know by now that they found Orson Hanice with a dead little girl in his basement. I figured as a reporter you would have jumped at something like that."

Dean screwed up his face and averted his eyes. Orson Hanice, he had never bothered to think that the monster that had killed that child could possibly have a name.

"Nah" said Dean "Child homicide isn't my thing. That sort of stuff just turns my stomach. I was actually just heading off and wanted to drop in and say bye."

Abe studied Dean for a long moment, with his eyes that had become slightly milky with age.

"It was you, wasn't it" he finally said in a conspiratorial whisper.

Dean looked momentarily horrified, before he allowed his affable mask to fall back in to place. "Excuse me?" he said almost choking on the words.

"You were the one who found out about Orson." replied Abe with a smile of certainty touching his lips.

Dean tried to smile, but the expression failed "I don't know…." But he didn't finish as he saw Abe shaking his head.

"Don't worry son." said Abe, putting a gnarled hand over Dean's "I'll take that little piece of knowledge to the grave."

Dean smiled, surprised by the old man's gesture.

"How did you know?" he asked

Abe shifted in his seat, pushing his newspaper to one side.

"No one takes notice of an old man like me. Most of the town thinks I'm nuttier than a fruitcake, but sitting here, I see everything. I saw you watching Orson all the while when you were here with me, and when you weren't interested in this story. I knew you weren't a reporter. No reporter in their right mind would miss the opportunity to report on this story. This has the potential of being a career making story."

Dean smiled knowingly. The old man's body was stooped and bent, but his mind was absolutely as sharp as a razor.

"I tell you what, for an old fella, nothing gets by you." said Dean affectionately.

"I don't know what it is you really do Dean. But you did a good thing here. I watched that man for years and he wouldn't have ever stopped."

Abe patted Dean's hand slightly and then pulled his hands back to rest on the table.

"You knew?" questioned Dean watching the old man closely.

"No" said Abe sadly "Not really, I just knew something wasn't quite right about him. I just couldn't quite put my finger on it."

Dean nodded hearing the self deprecation in the man's voice.

"Here you go Sweetie." said Ruthie as she put two tall foam cups on the table in front of Dean.

Dean looked up and smiled at her, reaching in to his wallet to pull out enough money to pay for the coffee, and whatever Abe was having. He just sort of signalled his wish to her with his eyes, and Ruthie nodded in understanding.

"All right old timer" said Dean giving the man a gentle chuck on the shoulder. "I better hit the road. You take care of yourself ok."

With that Dean stood, picking up the coffees. Abe had given him the closest thing he had ever gotten to a thank you for doing his job and it couldn't have come at a better time. He needed to know that he was making a difference, it was one thing to think it for yourself and quite another for it to be affirmed by someone else. He smiled at Ruthie as he left and headed out of the coffee shop.

As he approached the door, he could see two people walking up to it, and as the door opened, Dean saw a tall man with ebony skin, followed by a shorter white man. Dean's brain slowed down, as if he saw everything in slow motion. He knew the man almost instantly and he saw the moment of recognition occur on the face of the dark skinned man.

'Hendrickson'

Dean fought down and initial sense of panic, his gut taking over. He dropped the coffees he was carrying and charged at the two men in the door, collecting Hendrickson around the waist and pushing him back. The man Hendrickson was with fell away in surprise; all the while Hendrickson yelled instructions as Dean tackled him to the ground.

Dean didn't stop, didn't bother looking back, as soon as he felt Hendrickson's legs go from under him, he let him fall to the pavement and used the momentum he had generated to run right over him. Cars were parked all along the street, but instead of trying to run between them, Dean leapt, hitting the bonnet of a Buick that was parked outside the Diner and sliding all the way across.

He hit the ground running, not looking up as the squeal of tyres told him just how close he had come to being hit by a car. The commotion had prompted Sam to shift into the driver's seat and the Impala's engine was already running. Again Dean used his momentum, leaping and tucking his legs sideways so that he slid across the Impala's hood on his hip.

He heard the shot whiz passed his head, but he didn't slow his paced, he just hit the pavement and dived into the passenger side door. The Impala was in motion well before Dean even had a chance to close the door and he leaned out awkwardly to catch the flailing door as Sam sent the car flying down the street.

The squeal of tyres behind them heralded that Hendrickson was in pursuit. Dean looked back to see the black Lincoln come rapidly up behind them.

"Go, Go, Go" he yelled at Sam, as he saw Hendrickson, leaning out of the passenger window, his gun clearly in view. Dean reached over and pulled at Sam's shoulder, trying to get him lower in the seat. If Hendrickson shot at them, he didn't want Sam to catch a stray bullet.


Hannah had no idea why she had come back to Goodwell, for some reason she felt compelled to come back to the Diner on the main street. She wasn't quite sure if it was wishful thinking that she might run into Dean there, or if she had to go in and make sure that there weren't anymore monsters lurking.

As she pulled up to the intersection where she needed to turn, she saw the Impala driving wildly down the street. She reached out for Dean, and felt a sharp spike of fear course through him. She got the impression that they were being hunted, and if they were caught it would be dire for both he and Sam.

The Lincoln following them swerved in and out of view briefly and Hannah could see a man leaning out of the passenger's window with a gun. At that point, instinct took over; she held her foot on the break, while pressing hard on the gas. If she was going to do what she intended it would all be about timing, and if she did it wrong she could kill them all.

Thankfully Michael had taught her to be a good driver. Her brother and her had done endurance challenges and rallies all across Europe and she had really good instincts behind the wheel of a car.

Mentally Hannah timed the point when the Impala would be past her, and as soon as she was confident of it, she let her foot off the brake and sent her car careening into the intersection. The Lincoln hit her squarely on the front section of her car, the impact pushing her car around, and causing the airbag to blow.

Hannah felt it all the way down to her bones, but thankfully, she had been prepared so she had braced herself to try and minimise the damage of the impact. She saw the Impala, slow down slightly, but with a firm push, she impressed upon Dean to get out of there.

Dean didn't see the Focus until the very last second. He was busy watching the Lincoln behind them, so that when the Focus drove wildly into the intersection, it was a complete shock to him. There was an almightily clash as metal struck metal, and as the Focus was turned around by the force of the impact. Dean caught sight of the driver before the airbags blew.

"Doc" he screamed in realisation, and instinctively Sam jumped on the breaks, working out was must have happened as he looked in the rear view mirror.

'GO, Dean GO!'


Dean heard the Doc's voice firmly in his head. Every fibre within him wanted to get out and make sure that she was ok, but he knew he couldn't. He knew he would have to trust her and just keep going.

"Drive Sam" he said urgently "Now"

Dean starred out the window as the tangle of Focus and Lincoln got smaller in the rear view. He took a moment to look across at Sam, whose face was set in grim determined lines. There was acute tension in the car, but not between the brothers, merely at how close that call was.

Sam made a B line for the interstate. He wanted to get across the state lines in case the Feds had the locals looking for them now.

Dean spun around in his seat, unable to see the accident anymore. He pulled on his seat belt cursing his own stupidity.

"Damn it" he hissed, hitting a fist against the dashboard. "I'm so stupid."

"Come on Dean" said Sam tightly "You couldn't have known."

"I should have Sam" hissed Dean hitting his hand again against the dashboard. "I knew he was abducting girls from other states. I worked that out last night, but I should have realised that would make it a federal case. I am so damn stupid."

Sam glanced over at Dean. He could feel the adrenaline and anxiety rolling off him in waves. Dean was worried for the Doc, so much so that Sam could feel his brother's fear deep in his gut.

"She's alright Dean." he said gently, but Dean wouldn't look at him. He ran an agitated hand through his hair.

"Now Hendrickson has her, it won't take him long to find a connection between us." Dean said his voice was haunted by hopelessness.

"Don't worry" said Sam "Hannah's smart and she's powerful. She knows how to take care of herself."

Dean looked at the countryside as it passed them, praying that Sam was right.