She found a bottle shop, it was just down the road and around a bend in the road, but she wasn't going to tell John where it was.
She walked in, and the man behind the counter, who was playing with a game boy, and was making a few very weird little facial expressions and had his tongue, stuck out the side of his mouth, and was obviously concentrating very hard, because he hadn't realized that Missouri had entered his dingy little bottle shop.
She walked over to the cold room inset in the opposite wall to where she'd just walked in. when she opened the door to the cold room, the man looked up, but only for a moment, before going back to his game.
When Missouri walked into the cold room a sudden chill shot down her spine, before she got used to the temperature of the room.
She walked over and found a case of light beer, and decided that she would get one of those, and she would share some of it with John, so then maybe he wont go to heavily on them.
She picked one up, and was surprised at how heavy it was. She managed to get it out of the cold room and onto the counter near where the man with the game boy who looked up at the slight thud the case of beer made on the counter.
"Can I help you?" he asked, he had paused his game and set it aside on a shelf behind him.
"Just this thank you," said Missouri pulling out her purse which was in her pocket. "Is there anyone here who could help me get this back around to the motel?"
"Why are you buying beer here, you're staying in a bloody pub?" he scowled bitterly.
"Because I needed to go for a walk, is that ok with you?" she shot back, she was still tired and was grieving quiet heavily for the two boys.
"Ok, well," he looked over his shoulder at the dirty clock face on the wall, "I'm about to go around there for lunch, ill carry it to the bar for you, then you're on your own."
"Thank you very much, would you like me to pay you for you're trouble?" she asked courteously.
"Nah, I think I'll live." He said, he had lightened up a bit, and after he had taken the money from Missouri he picked it up and they walked out and down the road together.
Meanwhile, back in the room at the pub, John had shut all the windows and all the curtains which Missouri had opened and turned the TV up loud, was sitting in the couch, talking to himself, through his tears.
He couldn't ever remember a time that he had felt such grief, and it was eating up at his insides.
As he sat on the couch, he cursed himself for listening to the YED, who at the time, he thought was Missouri, he was so angry with himself, and he had, twice, thought about going into the kitchen and finding a knife to cut himself, or matches or something to burn himself, or just anything that would hurt.
He hadn't any idea what the time was, or how long it had been since Missouri had left, and he didn't really care.
All of a sudden he heard a voice.
It was Sam's.
Then he saw him, standing in front of him. He was five years old. He had a big smile on his face.
Then Dean came running in.
"Sam, you cheated!" he announced.
Sam turned to Dean and shouted back at him, "No I didn't! And what does it matter, you always cheat!"
"I don't care! You're not supposed to come inside!" Dean retorted.
Then just like that, they were teenagers.
"Dean! What the hell? Why is this in my room?" Sam was holding up a car magazine, on the front was a picture of a black Impala.
"oh, I thought I'd show you what I'm going to be driving you to school in next year," Dean said cheekily with a grin on his face "dad said he'd buy me a car, and that's the one I want, I'm going to show him, when you've finished with it."
"Here, I don't want it; I don't care what you drive me to school in, cos I'd rather walk! He yelled throwing the magazine at Dean.
Then, just as suddenly as they had turned from children to teenagers, they were adults, and, still, the\y were fighting, though this time it was different.
This time they were talking to John.
"Dad! Why can't I go back to school?" Sam asked, he was frustrated.
"Sam, you need to be here with me and Dad, we have to find this thing that killed mum!" Dean said looking at Sam, before he looked at John.
"What? How can you be talking to me?" asked John looking puzzled.
"Dad, what do you mean?" asked Dean
"You're dead, both of you, I-" he couldn't say it. John Winchester stopped in mid sentence, unable to tell his two sons, even if it was just a dream, or a memory or an illusion, or even a hallucination from his grief, he still couldn't get the words out.
"What, we're not dead Dad, have you been drinking or something?" Sam looked at him as he asked this, though he sounded as though he was mocking his father, then he smiled and walked out of the room, calling behind him, "Dean, why have I found my laptop sitting on the table when I left it on my bed? Oh and what is this site?"
Dean rushed out of the room in pursuit of his younger brother, "I haven't touched your laptop!" he said in outrage that his brother would accuse him of something like that.
As soon as Dean walked out his and Sam's voices faded. John got up and walked into the next room, looking eagerly for his sons, but they weren't there. The room he stood in was empty.
He walked over to the couch and threw himself at it. He landed with his face in his pillow, and found himself sobbing into it, uncontrollably.
Missouri walked in the door to see John asleep on the couch, he had tracks from where the tears had rolled down his cheeks and he was shaking slightly, but that wasn't a surprise, he didn't have a blanket covering him, and because it was dark in the room, it was cold.
