Disclaimer,Summary & Rating: See Chapter 1
I THOUGHT I SAW
NB – Please see author's note at end.
Chapter 29
Sam blew out a huge, deep breath as the rest stop and the news cameras dwindled in their rear view mirror. "Dean, you okay?"
The panther nodded affirmatively.
Sam sighed, "So much for an 'under-the-radar' journey to the kahuna. Sorry, man."
Dean rolled his shoulders in that shrugging motion and gave a yowl-growl that Sam knew was along the lines of, 'dude, what else were we supposed to do, let that world-class scumbag massacre his wife and kids?' just because we wanted to be inconspicuous?'
They'd lost most of the day's useful travelling time by that point, but Sam was confident that they could make it up the following morning with an early start. Dean growled an agreement that conveyed one day's delay in getting to the kahuna in SoCal wouldn't make any difference. Besides, as Sullivan had pointed out, there was no way of knowing just when Dean would revert back to human form - he could change back thirty seconds from now or still be a panther in six months without the kahuna's help. As he pulled into the parking lot of another low-end motel, Sam wryly acknowledged that if the Winchester Luck - all bad - held true, Dean would suddenly change back to human form just as Sam was pulling up the Impala on the kahuna's front yard.
Sam parked at the far end of the lot near the end of the row of rooms to be as inconspicuous as possible. He had driven for a good hour after leaving the rest stop but had no idea how far the 'local' news would be broadcast or what bigger networks might have picked it up.
Without needing the advice, Dean got down from the front passenger seat into the foot well just in case, and as Sam tramped across the lot in the early evening drizzle (working itself up into proper rain) he was relieved to look back and see that the car's position under the overhanging shrubbery at the edge of the lot made it look just like any other anonymous, beat-up old clunker...a description he had better never repeat in front of Dean. Sam was semi-seriously convinced that Dean's tendency to womanise came from the fact that Dean was really in love with his car; yet one more quirk in his older brother's "unique", and slightly twisted, psyche.
He went into the dingy lobby, which was an inadequately lit nicotine-reeking replica of a million other cheap motel lobbies that looked as if it had been decorated once and for all time circa 1952.
The desk clerk looked like that freaky guy at the news-stand in Men In Black I, who Will Smith thought was the alien until it turned out to be that little pug dog. The mostly burned away cigarette dangling from between his lips indicated how he got to look like the living dead. To Sam's relief, however, the guy continued to maintain his dead-from-the-neck-up routine without any hint of recognising Sam as, "Hey you're the dude with the panther!"
Sam took the furthest room from the office despite it appearing he was the only guest; the desk clerk evinced no curiosity as to this apparent overzealous desire for privacy and the instant Sam had the key he simply turned and shuffled silently in back; Sam caught a flicker of the screen and realised why the guy was so focussed - it was some local skin flick channel showing the "classic", Debbie Does Dallas.
Going back along under the veranda which made his ears hum as the increasingly forceful rain bounced off it, Sam opened the room door and heard the click as Dean flowed from the Impala's passenger side. He grinned as even despite the rain, the panther carefully used his shoulder to nudge the door back shut - forbid any rain should get into Dean's precious baby!
The room comprised a single large but sagging queen-sized bed; however, the bedclothes appeared to be clean, albeit it very threadbare - another wash cycle would probably disintegrate them.
"There's a rest stop just over the highway. Burger and fries with extra onions and coffee?" Sam asked.
The panther nodded as Dean headed into the bathroom to shake the droplets off his fur.
Jumping back into the Impala, Sam went over to the diner, which had just two big rigs in the lot, the drivers of which were apparently asleep in their cabs since the only people in the diner besides him was a middle-aged, frumpy waitress and the short-order cook who unreassuringly could have been the desk clerk's twin. Sam ordered four large burgers and fries to go, one with no onions, and two large coffees. Dean would devour the three burgers and most of the coffee with no problem and if Sam was lucky, he could persuade his brother to eat some of his own as well.
Back in the room, Sam sat at the tiny, rickety table and ate his fries but eschewed the greasy burger. Dean, who had simply inhaled the food onions and all, growled in agitation.
"Forget it," Sam refused, shuddering, "Your leopard taste-buds might not register anything above and beyond meaty goodness but trust me, one bite was enough. It's all yours."
Dean promptly chomped the burger before tentatively getting on the bed, which sagged alarmingly under his weight; Sam resigned himself to a night of backache from the sprained mattress. The thing had probably been bought brand new when Adam was a kid.
Abruptly Sam's cell began to ring, making him jump. The caller ID read: JBW - Dad?!
"Uh, Dad?" Sam answered the phone tentatively as Dean froze on the bed.
"Sam," John's raspy voice came over clearly, "Are things ok with you and Dean?"
"Uh, yes sir." Sam was completely thrown by this sudden paternal contact. John only called his sons when it involved "work", not to make general enquiries about their health and happiness.
"Well, I'm sat in a motel room in Burbank, New Mexico, watching a local news report about a heroic vacationer who saved a woman and her kids with his pet panther. There were plenty of shots of the kid's car..."
Sam winced, "Yes, sir...Dean..."
"Is a panther?"
"Yeah..."
Instead of the expected harsh, 'and you didn't think this worthy of mention?' riff, John simply said, "How?"
"He was on a job in New Orleans," Sam said in a carefully neutral tone that sought to avoid any 'the first time you abandoned him to fend for himself' connotations, "He killed a hoodoo witch doctor but got caught by part of the spell the guy didn't have time to finish. Turned him into a panther for a couple of days and then he changed back. He didn't think it was worth mentioning." This time Sam allowed a little more sarcasm to leach into his tone.
Dean, who had come to the edge of the mattress and was now perched precariously on the end of the bed almost in Sam's lap as he sat on the cramped chair, head-butted Sam's arm warningly.
"He's still...Dean?"
Sam realised that John was actually worried about him trying to transport a leopard that thought it was a leopard across country. "Oh yes."
Answering amusement was clear in John's tone as he asked, "Is Dean there?"
Shoving his head towards the cell, Dean gave a loud growl, his tail waving backwards and forwards in a positively 'wagging' manner that made Sam wish his photo-enabled cell phone was still in his jacket pocket and not several feet away.
"Hey son," John's tone was cheerful but tempered with an affection Sam rarely heard from their father at all, but particularly when it came to Dean, whom John had always treated as a fellow, if subordinate, soldier, like a Marine Corporal to his own Sergeant.
Dean answered with an almost-purr; Sam moved his position and laid his arm around the big cat's neck holding the cell so Dean was in a better position.
"You be careful, Dean," John advised his elder son as if talking to a person transformed into animal were an everyday occurrence, "and mind Sam."
Dean gave a loud snort-sneeze of derision at that one.
"I heard that," chided John. "How're you gonna fix this?"
Sam explained about Missouri and Sullivan.
"He still around?" John asked with obvious pleasure, "Ain't seen him in a coon's age. But Sullivan's solid gold, if he vouches for this kahuna, you can take it to the bank."
"Yes, sir," for all his emotional issues with his dad, Sam implicitly trusted John Winchester's judgement of people and despite his liking of Sullivan, he was subtly reassured by his dad vouching for Sullivan.
"I gotta go," John said with his customary abruptness, "I'll come find you boys soon, ok."
"Sure," Sam answered cheerfully, not believing a word of it but not for anything would he trigger the friction that he had come to realise so distressed Dean.
Concluded in Chapter 30
© 2007, C D Stewart
Author's Note:
Okay. First to VolaciousWings – not one chapter but 2, enjoy! I must apologise also to the authors of deep breath : Dancing in the Dark, Bar Fights and Bullets, Lying in Wait, Blood Battle, In Reverse, Driving Miss Daisy, Darkness Beckons, That Vision Thing, etc and etc.
My email inbox is acquiring a gradually increasing number of "story alerts" that I just have not had time to read. I think Phx is working on the 3rd in All the Kings Horses and Wonderwithme is even starting on the sequel to Lying in Wait, gah! (I did try to skim thru Chapter 22 but I have no idea who Ben and Alex are anymore so it's back on the "re-read list"). Then there's Demonhunter2 who sent me an email giving me a head's up on the sequel to Worth Killing For, which is another "re-read". To be honest, I am going to have to go back and re-read most of the stories because although I have tried to skim through them periodically, I have simply got so far behind the chapters don't make sense any more.
I simply haven't been able to go on the site for about 8 weeks and I am aware of all the great stories I must be missing (at the risk of outraging thousands of readers and writers, thank goodness for slow updaters!). I am also aware of those people who have reviewed I Thought I Saw or my stories in general (Sarah, thanks for Miles to Go and The Whole of the Moon reviews), such as isel1lja, VolaciousWings, ohcEcho and many, many others. I apologise for not responding but I hope you understand my email inbox at the moment is in a triage situation – I only have 24 hours in 1 day and need about, oooh, 60 or so.
Unfortunately my own illness and that of family is still a major issue, and on top of that – which is why you're getting two chapters of I Thought I Saw and my one-off short Bobby's Story all at the same time – instead of upgrading me my ISP disconnected my Internet service to my home PC. I was without any home Internet connection since before I went to the Asylum Con in Coventry, UK (11th – 13th May 2007) until practically the end of the month, so I couldn't upload anything. I have posted a brief account of my Asylum trip (yes, saw Jensen Ackles in the cute flesh) on my personal blog at Yahoo 360 (uk.360. and also at the Supernatural.tv site under my handle The Cat's Whiskers. I am suffering major writer's block with False Memory but have got Fugits Fugitives on the boil, so I'll see how things play out – I love to write, but I cannot risk my health, so I hope to have your continued patience and tolerance for "tortoise girl".
