Chapter Twenty-One
John stared out the window of Bobby's truck, tight-lipped and anxious.
"Don't worry, Johnny," his friend said, "Coslaw's nowhere near yer boys."
The father nodded, "I know."
Bobby glanced at him quickly, "Then what's got you so quiet-like?"
"Coslaw's off his rocker," John said slowly, as though he was trying to gather his thoughts, "How many other hunters like him are out there? The ones who have loose screws, I mean? Five, ten, more? Have they hurt people, innocent people?"
Bobby sighed, "The job gets to ya, you can't deny that. An' we can't exactly talk to a shrink about it either."
John nodded.
"I've known hunters who've drowned themselves in booze when they snapped," Bobby continued, "Others, well, if you're familiar with weapons like ours, it doesn't take much to do something drastic."
"The best thing we can do is make sure Coslaw doesn't hurt anyone else," Bobby said with finality.
SPN
Someone was shaking Dean's shoulder. It was his brother. Blinking tiredly, the eighteen-year old was pulled from his slumber into wakefulness.
"Sammy?" Dean asked and rolled over, peering tiredly up at his sibling.
"I heard something downstairs," Sam whispered fearfully.
"Huh? Maybe it's the cat," Dean replied.
Sam shook his head, "She's here."
The fourteen-year old pointed and Dean turned his head and saw the yellow cat lying curled up on his brother's bed, just as she had been when he'd last seen her.
"Do you want me to go check it out?" Dean asked and began to sit up but Sam grabbed his arm tightly.
"No! What if it's Coslaw?!"
Dean sighed. First Sam was seeing things and now he was hearing them as well.
He was almost positive that Martin Coslaw had not stayed in Sioux Falls. Why would he, when he most likely believed Sam dead?
But that didn't matter to the fourteen-year old. Even after being shot twice and nearly dying, Sam's ordeal wasn't over. His mind was convinced that that bastard was still around and jonesing for another go at him.
Dean listened to the silence in the house for a long moment before reaching out and squeezing his sibling's wrist comfortingly, "There's no one here but us chickens."
Sam didn't smile at the joke. He gazed at the bedroom door fearfully.
"Sam, I promise you that we are alone."
The younger boy sucked in a deep breath and nodded.
"Why don't you try and get some more rest?" Dean suggested and lay down again.
Sam moved to his own bed and sat on the edge. He reached out and stroked Marmalade's fur for a moment before settling in, pulling the blankets up over his head.
SPN
"Coslaw is going to know we're coming for him," John said, "He's gotta know we'd want revenge."
Bobby nodded, "Yeah, he probably knows."
The younger man glanced at his friend, "Then it stands to reason he'll be ready."
The veteran did not look the least bit concerned; "We'll just have to treat this like any other hunt."
SPN
Sam poked listlessly at the heap of bacon Dean plopped on his plate the next morning for breakfast.
"What's wrong?" Dean asked, eyeing his brother worriedly.
The fourteen-year old shrugged.
"Dad and Bobby are going to be fine," Dean assured his brother.
"I know but…" Sam began but then hesitated, staring at his bacon.
"What?" Dean pressed, eyes boring into his brother.
"What if they don't get back in time," Sam confessed his worry, "For the potion, I mean."
Dean chuckled, causing Sam to look up.
"What am I? If Bobby and Dad don't make it back in time- which they will- then I will call the professor myself and get her to tell me how to make the potion? Okay? You trust me, don't you?"
Sam nodded his head vigorously, "Of course I trust you, Dean!"
"Good," the eighteen-year old said with finality, "That's settled then."
Sam tore off a piece of bacon and fed it to Marmalade; the cat pawing at his pant leg for a morsel.
SPN
John pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. He had his cell phone pressed against his ear tightly, straining to hear Dean over the static.
"We've just arrived in Alaska," he told his eldest, his voice raised, "Bobby said it shouldn't be long now. The roads are fairly good this time of year. We'll take care of Coslaw and get back as soon as that's done."
It had taken the men two and a half days to cross over into Alaska, driving almost nonstop. It hadn't been as difficult to enter Canada as John had worried it might be. Bobby had assured him though, that as long as he had his passport ready and answered the border guard's questions- they were heading into the country to do some hunting- without sounding suspicious they would be fine. And they had been.
"The trouble is when we want to get back into the States," Bobby had told the younger man as they drove away from the border, Canadian flags waving proudly red and white atop the guardhouses.
John hadn't been sure if Bobby was joking or serious. He decided he didn't care to know and would let the veteran hunter do the talking when the time came to go back to South Dakota.
"Listen, Dean if we're not there in time to-" the father began but his son interrupted.
"I've got it covered, Dad," Dean assured him, "I'll call Bobby's friend and get her to guide me through the potion."
John cleared his throat.
"Are you sure?" he asked.
"Yeah," Dean insisted, "This can't wait. Sam can't go through another transformation."
What if it doesn't work? John thought. What if we have no choice but to let Sam change into a werewolf every month?
"If you're certain you can handle it," John answered instead.
Dean chuckled a little, "Let's cross that bridge when we get to it."
John nodded, "How is he doing, by the way?"
Dean sighed, causing the father to sit up more straight in his seat, at attention.
"He's okay," Dean answered, "He's having nightmares… thinks he sees him in the dark at night or hears him."
John didn't have to ask who 'him' was.
"But he's getting better," Dean said quickly, "As long as Marmalade's with Sam, he doesn't seem to get as scared."
That son of a bitch, John thought. He'd hoped that when Sam had shown no signs of having nightmares at the hospital that they had dodged the bullet. It didn't seem that way though. Perhaps being in the same house where he had been attacked and nearly killed was causing Sam's subconscious stress.
"Okay," John answered, "I should let you go. The static is driving me nuts. Tell Sam I said 'hello."
"Same from me," Bobby commented loudly, eyes fixed on the road.
"And Bobby too."
"I will. Be careful. Show Coslaw nobody messes with the Winchesters and gets away with it," Dean said and the connection was lost.
John put his phone in his pocket and sighed. Bobby glanced over at him, an eyebrow raised.
"I'll be happy once we're back at the Salvage Yard," the father answered his friend's unspoken question.
W
The roads in Alaska- at least the main ones- were in good condition: paved, free of potholes and snow.
There was little snow on the ground but the local plant-life was uninspiring. The short grass was yellow and brown, orange lichen covered rocks jutting up from the still-frozen earth and the few trees were either majestic, dark pines or spindly skeletons of no discernable species.
"How can people live out here?" John asked out loud.
Bobby shrugged, "Some folks love it."
John snorted.
"It is beautiful," Bobby continued, "In its own way. In winter when its all barren and white and blue. At night you can see the Northern Lights. Fishing and game hunting up here is very popular. "
"How much longer to Coslaw's?" John asked to change the subject.
Bobby shook his head, "Couple of hours yet."
SPN
Dean smirked at the sight of his brother carrying the yellow cat around as though the animal were a baby. Marmalade was cradled in Sam's arms on her back, her feet sticking up in the air, her tail curled against one arm while her head rested against the other.
Sam though, didn't share his brother's humour.
"She'll know if Coslaw's here."
The eighteen-year old sighed.
"Sammy," he said, "He's not here. He's nowhere near us. He's back in Alaska."
"How do you know for certain, Dean?" Sam asked.
"Bobby's known Coslaw for a while and he knows how that bastard's mind works."
Dean stood up from where he was seated on the couch and moved to stand in front of his brother.
"If that asshole was still here," he began, "Don't you think he'd try and finish the job he started as soon as Dad and Bobby left?"
Sam thought for a moment, tipping the cat out of arms- the animal landed on her feet and ran into the kitchen- before rubbing at his abdomen.
"Are you okay?" Dean asked, concernedly.
Sam nodded distractedly but Dean reached out and lifted his brother's shirt.
The twin bullet wounds- enlarged due to necessary surgery- had all but faded. Dean guessed it was because of Sam's supernatural condition. Just as the wounds he'd received from the werewolf attack- barring the bite itself- the ones he'd received from Coslaw's bullets were quickly vanishing as though they had never been there to begin with.
"How are you feeling?" Dean asked, releasing his brother's shirt.
"Okay," Sam answered.
"Do you want to watch some TV?" Dean asked but his brother shook his head.
"I think I'm going to go to bed," Sam answered.
Dean frowned. It was mid-afternoon. Much too early to go to bed.
Sam turned and called his cat; Marmalade loping towards him from the kitchen and followed the young teen as he made his way upstairs.
Dean remained where he was. He would let Sam sleep for a while before bringing him something to eat and perhaps coax him back downstairs. He knew that Sam was still recovering from Coslaw's attack and that with the full moon approaching his brother wasn't really feeling spunky. But Dean didn't want Sam to feel as though he was alone. Far from it. Dean was with him. Their Dad was with him. Bobby was with him. Dean didn't want Sam to forget that.
SPN
Bobby's trunk bumped and clunked over the dirt road.
John grabbed the seat with both hands to keep from jostling around too much and glanced at the older hunter.
"How much further?" John asked, trying to avoid biting his tongue as he spoke.
"Few miles yet," Bobby muttered, "Just sit tight."
The younger man raised an eyebrow. Sit tight? Better said than done.
W
"That's it?" John asked as he stared out the truck's windshield at the small wooden house sitting before them. There was not even a path or lane- much less a road- leading to Martin Coslaw's house. It really was in the middle of nowhere. Bobby had parked behind a copse of pines, trying to keep his dark green pickup as hidden as possible. He didn't think Coslaw would easily see his vehicle from his home if he peered out the window. It was growing dark and the trees shadows covered the truck black pools.
The building in question was made of wood, with a rusted tin roof but looked totally uninhabited. No smoke drifted form the blackened chimney and the grimy windows where dark. The old pickup that sat in front of the house looked like it belonged in Bobby's Salvage Yard.
"That's it," Bobby confirmed.
"Leaves much to be desired," the veteran hunter said, "Don't it?"
John frowned. He wasn't sure they were at the right place.
"Should we get out?" He asked. He had never hunted another hunter and he wasn't really sure how to go about it.
Bobby nodded and opened his door, "Slowly."
The father did as his friend suggested and set foot on the permanently frozen ground silently. Bobby slipped from the cab to the bed of his truck and grabbed his duffel bag.
Bobby motioned for John to join him on his side of the vehicle- it was furthest from the door of the cabin and shielded them any attack- and unzipped his bag.
He handed John a gun and got one for himself.
Checking to make sure it was loaded, Bobby used hand signals to communicate to John that they should split up and walk around the sides of the cabin to the front, surprising Coslaw.
John nodded and instantly fell into a crouch. His boots crunched dully against the frosty grass as he approached the far side of the cabin, moving around the back of the dilapidated building.
As soon as he saw the rear of the cabin, John knew they were not mistaken.
A tangled pile of chains and shackles sat against the back wall of the building- silver, undoubtedly- and bear traps with red stains coating their teeth sat in another unorganized clump.
John pressed his back against the side of the building as he snuck around the corner, keeping his head low as he moved forward so that he would not be seen if Coslaw happened to look out the window.
At the front of the house, he poked his head around the corner and saw Bobby already in position.
With another hand gesture from the veteran hunter, both men slipped to the front of the building, guns raised, ready to kick down the door and deliver justice for the youngest member of their family.
A gun blast caused both men to jump and crouch down protectively.
John's finger twitched on the trigger of his own gun as a second shot rang out.
Bobby swore under his breath, hunkered down as low as he could, gun pointed at the door.
Apparently they hadn't been as sneaky as they'd hoped.
John looked up sharply as the door of the cabin flung open and Martin Coslaw stood in its frame, his face flushed and his eyes wide and feverish.
Author's Note:
Thanks to CrystalVixen93, SamDeanLover28, Gembomz, L.A.H.H, Kasey, quoththeraven5, SPN Mum, and Souless666 for reviewing.
Thanks to everyone who alerted, followed and favourited.
So, the showdown between Coslaw and Bobby and John begins. But who will win? Well, that goes without saying, doesn't it? But how will this play out? Are Bobby and John just going to shoot or are they going to give Coslaw a chance to talk? Please leave a review if you have a moment.