Thank you so much Jenjoremy for the fabulous beta job and Gredelina1 for all your help.
I have had a couple guest reviews that I've not been able to answer as I can't send a PM without an account to send it to. I can't reply to one here as it would mean spoiling the future story for the rest of you. The other, Katy's, I can answer as I think a few of you might be thinking the same thing. Dean isn't in 2010 looking for Sam. Time is a straight line, so Dean isn't doing anything at all as he's not even born at this point. Sam being in 1978 doesn't subtract from his time in 2010. There won't be a Dean POV for a long time as there would be nothing to tell. We're going to see Sam's life until they're both in a time that they can be together again.
I am happy to answer any other questions any of you have, but you'll need to have an account with PMs enabled so I can send you a message.
One more thing... Happy Holidays!
Chapter Eleven
Sam left home around dawn and made it to the Nebraska town Missouri had said the hunt was located in by late morning.
The drive had given him time to think about how he was going to handle the hunt, and he wasn't feeling confident. There was no Internet to help him with the research, and he couldn't access the police records. He couldn't even pass as a fed as he had no suit or badge. He was going back to basics for the case, and it was equal parts daunting and interesting. He was going to come at it from a completely civilian angle, something he hadn't done in a long time.
He found a motel on the edge of town and went into the office to check in. The woman behind the desk was much younger than Sam and she was clearly not loving her job. She slapped down her magazine with a scowl when he entered, her expression only brightening slightly when she caught sight of him and his smile.
"Hi there," she said in a sultry voice. "How can I help you?"
"Hi," Sam said. "I'm looking for a room, a king, probably for two nights."
He hoped he would have the hunt cleared up before he'd need to come back and pay for longer, as he needed to get back to the site. The work he wasn't there to do would have to be absorbed by Ray and Carl, and that wasn't fair on them. He'd never had these concerns before, but he liked them in a way. It gave him a sense of belonging.
"Sure thing. Let me see…" She picked up a heavy book and ran her finger down the columns. "Here. Twelve is free, and that's a nice room."
"Great. How much will that be?" Sam took his wallet from his pocket and opened it. He still felt the surreal quality to paying for things with real money he'd earned rather than with stolen cash and credit cards. With the profits of selling the Lincoln and his wages, he was doing well financially, even with the costs of running a house coming out of it.
"$36 even," she said.
Sam counted out the bills including a tip for her and handed it over. She looked startled by his generosity and beamed as she thanked him.
Sam filled out the register and signed it then took his key and left, her genuine gratitude following him.
He took his bag from the car then walked along the row of rooms to his and unlocked the door.
When she said it was nice, Sam thought she must have meant clean, as there was nothing else to endear it. The walls were a stark green and the bedding was yellow. There was no TV and no coffee maker. It didn't matter particularly, but these were things Sam was used to from his life on the road, and the difference was glaring. He checked the bathroom and saw it was basic with a tub with shower attachment and a toilet close enough that he was going to bump his knees on the side of the tub using it.
In his duffel were enough clothes to last him a few days and beneath that the weapons he would need for the hunt. He had only brought what he would need. His time of traveling with the full trunk of the Impala was over. He had no access to dead man's blood, unless he could break into a morgue, so he thought he was going to be relying on speed for the kill rather than overpowering it. Seeing as he seemed to be basically invincible, he thought he would be able to handle it.
He emptied the clothes onto the bed and tied the fastenings of the duffel again. He would keep the weapons with him in the car where he could access them easier.
Before he'd left Missouri's the day before, they'd come up with a story to cover his questioning. He hadn't thought it would work, but Missouri said people were trusting, and that, coupled with his 'winning smile,' would get him through. All he had to do now was find the right people to test his story on.
He picked up the duffel and left the room again, clicking the door closed behind him and walking back along to the office. There was a man ahead of him checking out, and Sam waited for him to finish before approaching the desk and explaining his query to the clerk. "I'm looking for a library," he said.
"Oh, sure. It's on South Street. Go out of the lot and take a left. Drive down to the diner and then take a right. The library is halfway down the street. It's a red brick place. Mr. Downey runs it. He's real nice."
"Thank you," Sam said. "Is the diner good?"
"Yeah, real good. Me and my friends go there all the time for their burgers."
"I'll keep that in mind," Sam said, knowing full well he wasn't going to be indulging in Dean's favorite snack.
He thanked her again and left the office, going to the car and stowing the duffel in the trunk. He was pretty sure he wasn't going to need it for a while if the vampires were following lore and avoiding the painful sunlight.
Getting in behind the wheel, he brought the engine to life and smiled at the powerful roar. He wasn't as attached to his car as Dean was to the Impala, but he did love it. There was a thrill to driving it that Sam hadn't really felt before. This was his car in a way he'd never had before. The Impala had always been John's and then Dean's. Sam hadn't even had a car when he was at Stanford as he could get most places on foot and when he couldn't, he borrowed one from a friend or Jessica. The Mustang was his alone.
He drove out of the lot and followed the directions he had been given. The library was a small place, which Sam figured he should have expected given the size of the town. He entered through the double doors and went straight to the counter where a middle-aged man was checking out books for a college age kid. When he was done, Sam stepped up and smiled at the man.
"How may I help you?" he asked.
"I was hoping I could get a look at the local papers from the past week," Sam said. "Do you have them?"
The man pressed his lips together. "I know we'll have today's on the shelf, but I'm not sure about old ones. Let me show you where today's is and then I'll take a look in the back. Sometimes the old ones are left in the staff lounge."
"Thank you," Sam said.
He followed the man to a corner of the large space where there was a display shelf of newspapers and magazines flanked by comfortable looking chairs and small tables. Sam took the local newspaper from the shelf and sat down on one of the chairs while the man left him after assurances he would be right back.
The headline was a story about how the sheriff had apprehended two youths for the crime of breaking down a fence in hopes of going cow tipping. Sam had to laugh at that, remembering the time Dean had tried to persuade him to do it when they were staying in farm country in their teens. Sam had resisted, pointing out the absolute stupidity of the impossible task. Dean had eventually given up on the idea, thankfully.
None of the early pages of the newspaper mentioned the deaths either, which Sam found strange as Missouri said the last had only happened a few days ago. He wondered if the people of this town and time preferred light news stories to the ghoulish nature of the articles Sam was used to in his time.
The librarian came back with a handful of newspapers for him. "They were in the staff lounge," he explained. "I've got the past seven days here. I think the older ones will already be in the trash."
"This will be fine," Sam said, taking them from him. "Thanks for finding them for me."
"It's no trouble. I have to wonder what you're looking for in our news though. You're not local are you?"
"No, I'm looking for someone and I thought maybe the newspapers would have some clue for me."
He looked like he wanted to ask more, but there was the tinkle of a bell and they both turned to see a woman with a child sitting on her hip at the counter with a stack of children's books.
"Excuse me," he said, hurrying away.
Sam set the papers down on the table beside him and started with the oldest. There was no mention of the attacks on the front page, but he found a small article on the second page that said the police were still investigating the deaths.
Sam skimmed the front pages of the other newspapers, hitting the jackpot on the third. It was a headline declaring the discovery of another victim named Shirley Brookes. She had been found on the outskirts of town, and though the details were vague, the injuries were conducive to a wild animal attack. Advice was given for how to report animal sightings and the best methods of avoiding confrontation. References were made to the previous attacks, and Sam made note of the names.
Thinking he had what he needed for now, Sam stood and piled the newspapers neatly on the table then made his way to the counter where the librarian was still checking out a pile of books. He waved a hand in farewell and then left.
The diner was close enough to walk to, so when he left the library, Sam backtracked along the street and pushed open the door. It was a nice place that seemed to have stuck with a 1950s theme. Plastic booths lined the walls and there were tables filling the rest of the space. It wasn't that busy, despite the fact it was lunchtime, and Sam had his pick of places to sit. He chose to take a stool at the counter though, hoping to engage someone there in conversation so he could attempt to gain some new knowledge of what was happening in the town.
He read the menu while he waited to be served, deciding what he wanted, until a woman came to him wearing a pale green uniform and white apron. "What can I get you?" she asked.
"I'll take a coffee and the chicken salad, please."
"Sure thing." She set down a cup and saucer and poured coffee from a pot then passed his order through a hatch to the kitchen.
As Sam sipped his coffee, he felt her eyes on him. She was much older than him, so he didn't think it was attraction that was earning her scrutiny, and he hoped for curiosity as it might give him an opening to ask his questions.
"Are you new to town?" she asked. "Place this small, I thought I knew everyone."
"I'm just visiting," Sam said.
"We don't get many visitors," she said. "Most people just stop here on the way to the city."
Pleased by the direction of the conversation, Sam began to introduce his story. "I'm looking for someone actually. My brother is missing, and the last postcard I got from him had a local postmark. I was hoping I would find someone that has seen him."
He took the small snapshot of Dean from his wallet and held it out to her. She took it and examined it carefully.
"I've not seen him," she said apologetically.
Sam sighed heavily. "Thanks for looking. Our parents are so worried."
She clucked her tongue sympathetically. "What happened?"
"He fell into a bad crowd," Sam said heavily. "They moved through our town and he disappeared with them. They said they 'lived free', and they were known for partying when they were there. They found an abandoned place to hole up and they only really appeared at night. They were tearing it up in bars in the evenings, and partying till the early hours. Have you seen anyone like that?"
She was about to answer when a voice called through the service hatch, "Order up!" She excused herself and collected Sam's salad and brought it to him.
Sam thanked her and waited to see if she'd answer. When she didn't, he prompted, "Have you seen anything?"
"Maybe," she said carefully. "I haven't seen them, but my husband mentioned something like that a little while ago. There were some new men and women in Harry's Bar when he was there one evening, and they made an impression. They stood out as they were strangers, too, and… well, because it was the last time she was seen."
"She?" Sam asked interestedly.
"Mary Beth," she said solemnly.
Sam remembered that one of the animal attack victims had been called Mary Beth Parker.
"The last time she was seen? Is she missing, too?" he asked.
"She died. There's been some kind of wild animal attacking people lately. My husband says it's got to be a coyote the way they're being killed."
"How are they being killed?" Sam asked.
She hesitated. "I shouldn't say. I only know because Hank's the deputy here."
"I won't tell anyone," Sam said. "I don't know anyone to tell."
Seeming reassured she said, "It's the necks. They're going for the throat, leaving them to bleed out."
Sam formed his features into a horrified expression. "That's terrible. And your friend was killed?"
She bit her lip. "We weren't really friends. I know you shouldn't speak ill of the dead, but Mary Beth wasn't a good girl. Hank said he saw her playing cute with one of the men that was causing trouble in the bar that night. When he left, she was all over him. And she comes from a good family…" She shook her head. "But she still shouldn't have met her end like that. No one should. Hank and some of the others have been out looking for this coyote with the rangers, and we're all being told to be careful. I won't walk home alone anymore."
"It's better to be safer than sorry," Sam said wisely.
"That's what Hank says. He takes good care of me."
"I'm glad," Sam said, turning over what she had said in his mind.
"I hope someone's taking care of your brother, too."
"Me too," Sam said. "He's tough though. He made a bad choice, taking off, but he's smart."
"He'll be fine," she said bracingly. "You'll find him, I'm sure."
The door opened and a couple came into the diner, hand in hand.
She excused herself and Sam picked up his fork to start on his salad. He was hungry, as he hadn't eaten since an early breakfast. He wanted a moment to think on what he'd heard, too. If there was a nest of four, it was going to be harder to take them down. He wasn't in physical danger, but some could escape and put others in danger. He was going to need to be smart in how he handled it. If there was a way to separate them, he would have a better chance at getting them all.
He thought he would start his search in Harry's Bar and see what he could see. He might get lucky. It was about time luck graced him after all.
Though Sam didn't have a suit to pack, he'd brought his most 'fashionable' clothes in reserve, and he wore them that evening. The shirt was form fitting and the pants were definitely more flared than he had ever thought he would be wearing. He sent up thanks to the universe that Dean would never see him dressed like this. He'd rupture himself laughing.
Sam didn't feel as stupid as he had thought he would though. It was right for the time, and this was his time now. He had to blend in as a man on a night out if he was going to be able to pass as casual.
He'd already scouted the bar and found that rather than it being a dirt cheap place where he could have worn his usual clothes, it was a more modern with people dressed in nicer clothes than the casual jeans and shirts he was used to seeing when he was out. There was a pool table though, and he thought he would at least have an opener to talk if the potential vampires were there. He could hustle with the best, though he usually had a partner in setting the scene of him being too drunk to play well.
He drove across town just before sunset, and went into the bar, knowing the vampires wouldn't show until later. He wanted to be there when they arrived so he could gauge people's reactions to them. He didn't want to spend the evening tracking locals that just happened to stand out.
The bar was reasonably busy, though Sam still stood out as a stranger. He hoped he could use that in his favor. If he didn't look local and the type that would be missed to the vampires, he thought he would be a better target if they were feeding.
He bought a beer and sat at the bar to drink it, scouting the room. There was no one he pegged as another stranger to the town though, as people seemed relaxed as they chatted in groups. No one approached him at first until there was a lull at the bar and the man that had been serving came along to Sam.
"Another?" he asked.
Sam shook his bottle and found it was almost empty. "Yes, please."
The man retrieved a bottle for him and exchanged it for a bill. "You're new in town," he said. "You the fella looking for his brother?"
Sam raised an eyebrow, surprised his story had spread so fast. "Yeah?" he formed it as a question.
"Hank said you met Carol in the diner today. She told him the story, and he told me. You want me to take a look at the picture?"
"Yeah, that'd be great," Sam said, pulling the picture from his wallet. It was just a headshot of Dean that he carried in case they were separated and he needed help finding him. Dean carried one of Sam, too.
"Afraid I haven't seen him," he said. "And most people that come through town end up here or in the diner."
"Thanks anyway," Sam said.
He held out a hand to Sam. "I'm Harry. This here's my place."
Sam shook his hand and said, "Sam Taylor."
"What are you going to do next, Sam?"
"I'm not sure," Sam said. "Maybe stay in town another day or two and ask around some more. I am going to take tonight night off though. Tonight is just about having a good time."
"Good idea," he said. "You'll find a good time here. Folks are friendly enough and they like to take care of visitors when we get them. Speaking of…"
The door had opened and two women had entered. They were around Sam's age, maybe a little younger, and they were dressed similarly in floaty tops and flared pants. They drew attention as they walked to the bar, from men and women, and Sam sensed an atmosphere of anticipation around them.
"More visitors?" Sam asked.
Harry nodded. "They've taken over the old Hillock farm, them and two men. I don't think they're coupled off, as they're always extra friendly if you know what I mean."
Sam looked at them and the way they moved, the way their eyes swept the room. There was something almost predatory about them. That, coupled with the fact they weren't local, made him suspect they were the vampires he was looking for.
"They seem nice enough," Sam said.
"If you're looking for that kind of company, they are," he said with a chuckle. "Would you like to buy them a drink?"
"Sure," Sam said, thinking it was as good an introduction as he was going to get. He handed Harry some money and said. "Get them whatever they like."
Harry smiled as he walked along the bar to the two women and took their orders. He spoke to them for a moment and then gestured along the bar to Sam. They smiled sweetly at him and them the taller whispered into the ear of her friend.
Sam thought that they'd taken the bait.
As the evening wore on, the suspected vampires grew more relaxed and confident. Sam played pool with them, listening to their teasing about his shots and flirting unashamedly with both of them. They reacted as Sam hoped they would, and he was confident he was tagged as their next target. He just needed them to make the last move of his plan.
Maisie, the taller and more forward of the two women pressed against Sam as he leaned over the table to take his shot, and Sam could feel eyes on him. He wondered if the other patrons were judging the woman for her brazenness or if they were jealous that he was the one she'd given her attention to.
"So, Sam," she whispered in his ear, "do you like to party?"
Sam pretended to scratch his shot in reaction to her proximity and laughed shakily. "I love to party." He dropped his voice. "I don't think much partying happens in a town this small though."
"That's where you're wrong," she crooned. "Me and Katie have a place, and we really like to party. We're planning on going there now, and you're invited."
"Really?"
She giggled. "Really. Do you want to come?"
Sam straightened up and looked her in the eyes, seeing the hunger there. "I'd really like that."
She smiled as she plucked the cue out of his hands and set it on the table. "Let's get out of here then."
Sam grinned as she took his hand and led him out of the bar, with Katie sashaying ahead of them. When they got outside, they led Sam toward a rusty Pinto. Sam pulled back and said, "I think it's better if I follow you. I don't want to leave my car here overnight."
He gestured to the Mustang and they cooed.
"Wow, nice car. I'd love to take it for a ride sometime," Maisie said.
"Maybe you will," Sam said. "I'll drive it over tonight and we can all take a ride in the morning."
"I'm sure we will," Katie said, and Sam was sure they were thinking of how they could take the car when he was dead and swap it with their Pinto which was a heap.
"Sure, you follow us," Maisie said. "We'll go slow so you can keep up."
Sam grinned. "That won't be a problem."
He walked to his car and climbed in. The girls got into their Pinto and pulled out of the lot. Sam took a moment to quickly open his duffel and pull out the machete he had stowed there. He tucked it under his jacket sliding the hilt into his pants. It was uncomfortable, but it would be concealed there until the right moment.
He started the engine and followed them onto the road. They were driving slowly, giving him a chance to catch up, and when he did, they pulled ahead at what was probably the top speed for their crap heap. Sam laughed to himself as he put his foot down and edged closer to them.
He was actually enjoying himself. It was the thrill of the hunt and the speed he was driving. He hadn't felt like this on a hunt in a long time. Since Lilith, everything had been hard. Before that even. He hadn't been able to enjoy a hunt in a long time. There was always something more important hanging over them. He still had big things hanging over him, like the apocalypse he would return to, but that was so many years away it felt like another life. Lucifer was trapped in this time and Michael was ruling all the obedient angels. Sam didn't have to worry about them in this moment.
They drove out of town and onto a quiet highway. Sam teased them as he drove, allowing them to pull ahead and then catching up with them in seconds. He didn't snap back to attention until they turned on their blinker and pulled onto a dirt track leading to a house. Sam went after them, and pulled the car to a stop beside theirs. There were no other cars, and the place was in darkness. Sam guessed the male members of their nest weren't home. He wondered if they were working another town or a different bar for their victims. He was glad as it meant he could take on these two alone before facing the others.
He climbed out and surreptitiously adjusted the machete.
"What do you think?" Maisie asked, gesturing expansively at the house.
"It doesn't look much like a party house," Sam observed.
"Wait 'til you get inside," she replied. "It's something really special."
Sam grinned and allowed her to lead him by the hand into the house. Katie lit Coleman lamps, casting light over the dark space.
This was the point at which the ruse failed. The room was bare except for a small radio and mattresses on the floor. There was a scent of copper in the air that Sam guessed was blood from their previous victims.
"Really not a party place," Sam said with a sigh, looking around. Maisie and Katie linked arms and smiled at Sam with their secondary teeth descended.
"I don't know about that," Katie said. "We sure enjoy ourselves here."
"Good to know," Sam said. "I think I'll enjoy myself, too." He pushed back his jacket to reveal the machete tucked there and then pulled it free with a flourish. "I'm going to have a real party."
Maisie took a step back, looking shocked that their meal had come armed, but Katie held her ground. "Hunter," she growled.
"Vampire," Sam said, raising the blade over his shoulder.
Katie rushed at him, her hands clawed, and Sam kicked her in the stomach. She staggered back, but Maisie had gotten over her shock and was coming at him now. Sam adjusted his stance and allowed her into his space before swinging out with the blade and catching her on the shoulder. His aim wasn't good enough but it served to distract her as she stumbled away from him, howling with pain.
Katie had gathered herself and she was coming for him. Sam lifted the bloody machete again and waited for her. She was almost upon him when his blade caught her in the side of the neck. It swept right through, decapitating her neatly. The pieces thudded to the ground and Maisie screamed in agony, her friend's name ripping from her. She dropped her hand from her injured arm and stalked towards Sam. He waited for her to come close enough, but she was smarter this time. She kicked him and he stumbled back into the wall with the wind knocked out of him. He clung to the machete, knowing it was his only defense.
"I will kill you."
Sam dragged a breath into his empty lungs and rasped, "You can try."
He stepped away from the wall, lifting the machete ready to attack, and she kicked him in the gut again at the exact same point as before. He folded over, overplaying the blow that had healed almost as fast as it came, and breathed heavily.
"Not so strong now, are you, hunter?"
Sam snapped upright. "Strong enough for this."
The keen blade sliced cleanly through the air, cutting off her head without effort. Sam stepped back, exhilaration rushing though him, and he laughed.
The rush of the kill still hadn't worn off, but Sam's attention snapped back to the mission when he heard an engine. He peered around the still open door and saw headlights approaching. The other vampires were back. He knew there was no concealing what he had done, so it was better for him to attack head-on. He would let them come to the house and then kill them.
He stood behind the door and listened carefully as the car came to a stop. He felt confident and ready until he heard the voices and doors opening and closing. There were too many. He couldn't do anything about it. If they were more vampires, he would have to kill them, too, and if they were victims, he would save them.
"Looks like the girls are back already," a man said. "And they brought a friend."
A woman giggled nervously. "A real party then."
"Sure will be," another male voice said. "We're all going to have a good time."
Sam heard the creak of a foot on the wooden porch, and he yanked open the door.
"Party's over," he said.
The vampire looked startled for a moment, his eyes narrowing, and then he looked past Sam at the exposed body of Maisie on the floor behind him.
"No! He's killed her! Maisie, she's dead!"
"They're both dead," Sam said, using the vampire's distress to his own advantage. He swung with the blade, but the vampire was too fast. He dodged back, grabbing Sam's wrist as the machete dragged his arm around to complete the swing. He twisted his hand, and Sam heard a crack and pain seared up his arm, making him drop the blade.
The women screamed, and the vampire laughed at Sam's capitulation. He could already feel the bone knitting together again, but it hurt. He played up the injury, holding it to his chest and hissing between his teeth, trying to regroup.
"Oh no you don't," the male furthest from him said, and Sam looked up to see he was holding the women by the arms. One of them was the woman that had checked him into the motel. She looked terrified and tears were streaming down both her cheeks and her friend's. Sam guessed they had tried to run.
The vampire holding her seemed to think his friend was in no danger from Sam, so he stayed back while the first vampire advanced on Sam. He kicked Sam's knee and it gave way, dropping him to a half kneeling position. It worked to Sam's advantage though. His broken wrist was still healing, but he could reach the machete with his left. He grabbed it and straightened up. While the vampire was still reacting to the fact Sam was on his feet, Sam swung the blade and sliced through his neck.
The women screamed as the pieces fell, and the second vampire released them in favor of coming at Sam with his teeth bared. Sam tossed the blade to his dominant right, feeling it was ready for the weight and movement, and raised it. He waited for the vampire to step into range, but it caught him off guard. He lowered his head and drove its shoulder into Sam's stomach, sending him bowling back to the floor. The blade slipped from his hand again, and the vampire caught it up.
Without a word of taunting or victory, it raised it in two hands and drove it down, plunging it into Sam's stomach so deep Sam felt it jar against the floor beneath him. He screamed in pain, agony ripping through him, as the vampire stepped back. Sam panted through the pain, and then in one of the most macabre moments of his life, he grabbed the hilt of the blade and pulled it agonizingly out of his stomach. The wound clung to the metal, and Sam struggled to drag it all the way out.
Still in pain and shock, Sam got to his feet and advanced on the stunned vampire to make the move that would decapitate it. The head that fell to the floor still looked shocked at what he had seen.
Sam looked past him to the women that seemed frozen in horror. He wanted to comfort them, but he didn't think the person that had just done what they had seen him do had anything to offer in comfort. He turned away from them and picked up the keys that the first vampire had dropped when it had attacked. He walked slowly to the women with his hands raised and then held out the keys. "You need to get out of here," he said.
Neither of them took the keys and Sam set them on the hood of the car they'd arrived in.
"I'm going to take care of the bodies now," he said. "You don't want to see that."
"What were they?" the motel woman asked.
Sam considered before answering. He didn't want to change their world view by telling them that vampires were real, but he had to give them some explanation.
"They were murderers," he said. "They have killed a lot of people. I am a part of a government task force that deals with threats like this. It's better if you forget what you saw here."
He had no idea if they'd believed him, but he remembered what Missouri said about people being more trusting in this time.
"You should go," he said again, before turning away and getting to work dragging the bodies into the house.
He heard car doors opening and closing and then an engine sputtering to life. He went back for the second body, not watching them turn and drive back along the road. He didn't think they would tell anyone, but he couldn't be sure, so he needed to hurry and get the vampires taken care of and himself of town.
When the bodies were loosely piled inside, he went to the car for the can of spare gasoline and matches. He poured the gasoline over the bodies and then threw on the match. Flames rose up and Sam walked away from them. He climbed into his car and started the engine. He had taken care of what needed to be. Now he would get home.
Sam got home around dawn—only 24 hours after he left. He was exhausted, but there was another feeling combined with it that he hadn't expected. It was triumph. He had killed the vampires and saved lives.
He let himself into the house and shrugged off his jacket, hanging it on the peg by the door. He carried his duffel into the study. He was going to need to burn the clothes he had been wearing as they were soaked in blood and there was a gash in the front where he'd been stabbed. More important was cleaning the machete before the blood had a chance to pit into the blade. He stopped though for a moment and just allowed himself to feel what had happened; he had been mortally wounded again, but he had lived.
He moved to set the duffel on the desk and then stopped as he saw there was something new there. Among the papers and books he'd left out was a leather journal. He picked it up and opened the clasp. It fell open and Sam saw pages of blank paper. Only the front page had been used; there was a message for him in an unfamiliar hand.
'I thought you could maybe use this now. Make it last, Sam.'
It had to be from Missouri, and he knew what she meant. She wanted him to start his own journal, to catalog the things he was going to do and see: the things he was already planning.
He had realized on the way home from Nebraska that he needed to hunt. He had enjoyed it, but more than that, he had needed it. In a way he hadn't ever felt before, he had found a peace in hunting. It was what was missing from his new life. He had a job and friends, but he didn't have this outlet for his feelings and source of satisfaction that came from saving lives.
He thought Missouri had known it all along. He wondered how long she'd hung onto the journal, waiting for it to be the right time to give it to him. He didn't think she had ever planned to take the vampire hunt at all. It had been about getting him to see what he needed. She wouldn't risk her life and James' future by hunting again. She had arranged the conversation for him. He would have to thank her for giving him this.
He sat down at the desk and set the journal down in front of him. John Winchester's journal had started at the point he learned the truth about the world. Sam needed to start at the point he learned the truth about himself.
He picked up a pen and started to write, the words forming themselves in his mind and transporting to the page without conscious instruction.
'Hey Dean. Here's the thing, I'm trapped in 1978…'
So… Sam's first hunt as part of his new life. I loved the idea of him keeping a journal. He's going to do and see some great things in this life, and they should be catalogued.
Until next time…
Clowns or Midgets xxx