Chapter 10- Poison Whiskey

Sam walked up to the motel building, his arms full, and kicked at the door with his foot for his brother to let him in but it did not open. He banged again but there was still no answer. Guessing that Dean was in the shower or had lain down for one of his coma-inducing daily naps Sam began to juggle with his grocery bags and dig in his pocket until he pulled out his room keys and unlocked the door before stepping inside.

His eyes first fell on Dean's empty bed and then scanned the room but there was noone there. In fact, nothing seemed to have been touched or moved since he had left to go shopping over an hour ago. Sam could not here the shower running but still placed his bags on the small kitchen table and walked over to the bathroom door, knocked, and pushed it open. Dean was not in there either.

"Dean?" Sam asked the empty room as if the walls would suddenly come to life and tell him where his brother was.

It was strange for Dean to have been gone for this long without calling Sam to tell him what he was up to. After their quick escape from Crete they had decided to stay in a motel room and take it easy for the rest of the day. By four, Dean had given up on a peaceful afternoon and had gotten up off his bed, told Sam that he had seen a library in town that he was going to check out for any books that may help them and that he would be back by dinner.

Six o'clock came and went and Sam had decided to leave and go for a walk having found diddly-squat on the net. Finding a store not too far from the motel, Sam went in to buy them some food for the next few days and had expected Dean to be back to the room by the time he had got back. It was now getting close to eight and still no Dean.

Sam pulled a can of Coke out one of the bags and thought for a minute. He had been around Dean for too long and had researched with him too many times to think that there was any way he was still cooped up in a library between rows of old, dusty books. Could he have found something and left without telling him? No, Sam answered his own question, he would not, but then that left only one other place he could be.

Sure enough, a half a hour later Sam spotted the Impala parked outside a small bar next to a row of motorcycles and rusty cars. He might have known that Dean would want a drink after what had gone down that morning and should have realized it from the solemn way Dean had acted while they were at the motel. Walking inside, Sam found Dean right away, sitting in his favorite spot at the bar, seated on a wobbly looking stool, his head bowed down over his drink. Something was off, he thought and noticed that Dean was not surrounded by his usual cloud of women.

Sam strode up and took a seat next to him.

"Hey, Jerk, thanks for letting me know where you were."

"Hey, Sam," Dean groaned and then drained his glass before motioning for another. Sam could smell the whiskey on his breath from about two feet away.

"Dean, are you alright?"

"Oh yeeeeeah, I'm just... ha, well..." Dean tried to talk but his speech was just as unfocused as his eyes were.

"Are you drunk?"

"Ha, no," Dean chuckled stupidly, "See unlike you, I can hold my- booze."

"You're drunk."

"So? Why wouldn't I be. I killed that girl-"

"Dude, keep your voice down!"

"-I wasted her and I didn't even think about it. I killed her and she never did anything to..." Dean trailed off, his voice whiney and uncharacteristic.

"Dean," Sam shifted closer to his brother, "you did what you had to do. It's your job. That thing was gonna kill more people."

"Yeah, but not that girl," his voice was still very childish as he stared into his tilted glass, not even noticing as he sloshed some of his drink on the counter, "That girl didn't do anything. I didn't think twice, man, but I should have done somethin'. She could've been all right. She could've lived."

"Dean, how were you supposed to kill that thing without killer the girl it was possessing? It wasn't a demon we killed, it was a gypsy."

"There had to be a way, Sammy, there had to be."

"What makes you so sure? Bobby said..."

"'Cause," Dean slurred, "'Cause there just had to."

"Dean, you're not making any sense."

"Man, 'cause... never mind. Jeez, you ne'er shut up."

"Okay, come on," Sam said thumping Dean on the back, "Let's get out of here and get some coffee."

"I don't want no coffee, Sam."

"Well you can't stay here all night."

"Who says?" Dean asked, giving Sam a feeble shove.

Sam rolled his eyes and turned away from Dean, huffing with his impatience. Dean was unreasonable on his good days, when he was drunk Dean could prove to be down right impossible. The sooner he could get him back to the room and in a deep, drooling slumber the better.

"I couldn't save her, Sammy. I couldn't do it."

"What?"

"I couldn't save her."

"Who? That girl?"

"Her, Jo, anyone..."

"Dean, what's wrong? Who else couldn't you save?" Sam could not hide the concern in his voice. He had never seen Dean act like this before but now his big brother had washed away to a helpless child.

"Sam, I couldn't save anyone. The people I love always die. Dad died because of me."

"Dean, none of that was your fault."

Dean ignored Sam's reassurances and emptied another glass before slamming it back down on the counter and raising his hand in a lazy gesture for another drink, but Sam ushered away the bar tender. Dean straightened and looked up at him so dangerously that he was sure that he would hit him, but instead he patted Sam's shoulder and returned to his miserable state, head bobbing up and down with his arms up on the bar.

"They called me."

"Who?" Sam asked curiously.

"The hospital, dude. Ellen, she had a heart... oops," Dean slipped off his chair and bust out laughing.

Sam caught him under his arms and sat him back up on the stool, needing him to finish what he had started to say, "Ellen had a heart attack? My God, is... is she okay?"

"What? What's wrong with Ellen?" Dean looked up again and would have looked genuinely concerned if he had not been slightly cross-eyed.

'Alright, come on, I'm getting you back to the motel," Sam dropped some money on the counter and draped an arm around Dean's shoulders, he helped his brother into a awkward, standing position.

"The motel?" Dean mumbled on as they left the pub, "Awww, the motel is nice. I can sleep."

"Not right now though," Sam moaned and gave a shove to Dean who had just toppled against him.

"Hey!" he shouted, standing upright and staring at Sam as though he had just had an epiphany, "Can we get some pie?"

--

"Detective Moris, I understand that you were the first person to enter the scene after the incident, but this is not your division. You are not authorized to be involved in this investigation."

"Somebody killed those people and I'm tryin' to help you out here."

"I know, but we're quite capable of handing this case ourselves without outside help."

"I doubt it."

"Look, I promise, when we figure out if the girl was involved in any way at all we will take care of it. For now, we're just trying to locate her."

"Yeah and a hell of a job you're..."

"Listen here, we have all of our resources out there working to..."

"You listen. If this department didn't have their heads so far up their asses then you'd be able to see that I've got information that can help."

The police chief let out a long, impatient breath before speaking again, every syllable strained, "We welcome any information you have to give us."

"First," Bobby said, flattening both his palms against the desk, "We've got to make a deal."

"What sort of deal?" the chief asked, reclining in his plush desk chair.

"I'll give you what I've got and you tell me who that girl is."

"For the last time," the chief stood up and leaned across his desk and up to Bobby's face, "I can not give you classified information on an ongoing case."

"You've got her name but I've got something that can help identify her. If she's out there giving some clown a lap dance, he's not going to ask what her name is."

"You know what she looks like?"

"No, but I'd be able to pick her out of a crowd unlike you knuckleheads."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Let's just say I've got a bit of experience with her kind."

The chief looked at Bobby questioningly and opened his mouth to ask what he was talking about but decided that he did not want to know. Instead he asked, "Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"Fine, but if anyone finds out I told you it'll be my badge."

"Nothing leaves this office."

"Okay, the girl's name is..."

--

Hope you enjoyed it. Next chapter will be : Something to hold on to :