It was nearly two pm by the time Dean scraped himself out of bed and into the bathroom. Sam, who had already been up for an hour, had used the time to shower, change his variety of bandages and band aids, take more pills and get dressed. He felt clearer headed than he had in weeks.
Dean took his time in the bathroom so Sam lazed on top of his bed, catching up with news of the outside world on his phone. Things would invariably reach their usual level of crazy soon enough so he decided to enjoy the moment.
"Hey Dean," he called out, once he heard his brother finally open the bathroom door. "Not far from here is the smallest bar in the UK. It's called The Dove. Before we go back we should definitely take a visit."
"Yeah, I'm up for that." Dean stepped out, towel drying his hair. "Lemme get dressed and we can go check it out."
"Now? Can we get some food first, at least? That soup was so good…"
Dean padded over to his bed, and began rummaging through the first aid kid Sam had left there. "I won't say no to a visit to Wong's. We could do with getting some more supplies too." He pulled out a clean bandage from the dwindling pile and began carefully wrapping it around his arm. Really, it needed stitches: it hadn't stopped bleeding. Dean just wrapped it tight instead. "You want me to take a look at your war wounds when I'm done?"
"S'ok Dean – already done."
Dean carried on getting dressed. "So, what do you mean it's the smallest bar in the UK? Is it like…"
They were interrupted by a knocking on their hotel room door. Dean's head was halfway inside his t-shirt, so Sam reluctantly got up off his bed to answer it. It was the scruffy looking guy he had seen in the hotel lobby when he first arrived here two days ago.
"Hi. Um…is Dean around?"
"He's getting dressed. I'm his brother, Sam." Sam stuck out a hand. "You work here right? I thought I saw you the other day." The handshake was returned, but not before Sam noticed him staring at his wrapped-up fingers.
"Phil Brooker: Manager, arse-wiper and general dogsbody of this fine establishment." He smiled. "Brother huh? I can kind of see the resemblance."
"What can I do for you Phil?" Sam stepped out into the hallway, guiding Phil out. Sam figured the amount of dried blood on his bedsheets would freak the guy out. Not to mention the sodden bandages everywhere. The place looked like a makeshift hospital.
If Phil seemed bothered by Sam not wanting him in his room, he didn't show it. Sam figured he probably saw all sorts managing a slightly grimy hotel like this one.
"Yeah, nothing's up – just haven't seen Dean for a couple of days so I thought I'd swing by and ask see if he was ok?"
Sam thought back – the last time Phil saw them they were both pretty banged up after his rescue.
"We're all good here, thanks Phil. We'll probably only be sticking around another day if that's ok with you?"
"No probs. What about the woman in the connecting room? Same as you guys I assume?"
Sam's skin prickled, as if someone had just walked over his grave. "The um, the woman next door…"
"Yeah the blonde lady: seemed tight with Dean. Is she not…" He was cut off by a sudden gust of air, as Dean yanked the door wide open with what seemed an unnecessary amount of force. Dean grabbed Sam and pulled him back into the room, before calling out, "Hey Phil! I'll catch up with you later."
Sam stumbled back into the room, as his brother shut the door. "What the hell Dean?"
"I don't want you around that guy. He's creepy." Dean's face was a mask of concern.
"The fuck? Seriously?" Sam was incredulous. "I gotta tell you Dean, the only one worrying me around here is you. What's going on?"
There was a stand-off as they glared at each other without talking. Dean went to move past him, but Sam shoved him back. "No Dean! Enough of this! Who's the blonde woman staying next door?"
Dean changed tack, tried to make light of it. He gave a smirk. "What, so I gotta tell you about all my hook-ups now?"
"BULLSHIT!" Sam roared. "You've done nothing but lie about that room since I got here. If she was just some woman you were fucking, she would have been in this room with you, not that one."
"Stop embarrassing yourself Sam, with your mystery paranoia plots. That was already her room when I got here. We hooked up a couple of days later. I guess we did spend a bit of time doing…y'know. I can see how Phil thought we were together." The words spilled out of his mouth like oil out of a can. Smooth and slick. "She must have left without checking out. Bit surprised she didn't let me know she was going… but I guess she was the love 'em and leave 'em type."
"What's her name?" Sam asked, disbelief clearly apparent in his voice.
"Candy Lovelace." Dean answered, immediately.
"What?! That's where your brain went first - the porniest of all porn names?"
"All expectations were fulfilled Sam. She was awesome."
"She was a hooker then?"
"Sammy you know me, I don't pay for sex. I thought we both had a good time. I know I did." He chuckled. His smug expression infuriated Sam. He knew, absolutely knew, something was going on here. No way would Dean spend night and day getting laid whilst his little brother was missing presumed tortured. But forcing Dean to admit anything was just not going to happen: his brother was more stubborn than a cat at bath time. So, he was forced to play this a different way.
Sam sat heavily on the bed and dug though his duffel bag, pulling out a warm hoodie. He shivered as he peered up at his brother. "If that's true..."
"..which it is…" Dean interrupted.
"…If that's true" Sam repeated, "then I'm glad you had someone around whilst I was gone. It must have been a tough time for you, not knowing what happened to me."
Dean's mask slipped, just for a brief moment, and Sam saw an unbelievable amount of pain in his brother's eyes. Dean quickly turned around to grab a shirt to put on over his tee. "Naw man, I always knew you were gonna be just fine. Takes more than a few British bastards to put Sam Winchester down for good."
"If I'm 'just fine', then tell me why I'm seeing paranoid shit that you say isn't there." Sam looked directly up at Dean in confusion. "If everything's as ok as you say it is, why do I feel like everything's upside down?"
"Sam – you've been through hell – you're gonna be seeing plots and enemies coming out of the walls for days. Weeks, even." Dean sat down next to him and gave him the old 'big brother knows best face'. "Give yourself a break ok? Dude, you know I hate all that self-help crap, but you got to take the positives here: you and me – we're still kicking. Chuck and his hot sister didn't destroy the world and the stupid sons of bitches who kidnapped you are dead as disco." Dean radiated total sincerity. "I'm sorry I called you paranoid before Sam, that was out of line. You're just a bit messed up is all. But nothing getting back to your own memory foam mattress and a proper cup of American java wont fix."
Sam pulled his hair back from his face in a conciliatory gesture, and sighed deeply. "I guess you're right. I'm sorry too Dean. Being cooped up in that cell all that time…thinking you were dead…" He startled Dean by grabbing his brother in an embrace. Then, without giving him any chance to react, he shoved him back off the bed as hard as he could. A pair of handcuffs were around Deans wrists and attached to the radiator between the bed and the wall in less than six seconds.
"The fuck Sammy? SAM?" Dean's confusion was genuine, unlike Sam's.
"I am sorry." he said, pulling on the hoodie that had hidden the cuffs. Carefully he dragged both beds back out of reaching distance, and moved anything and everything that Dean could possibly use to escape. "Sorry it had to come to this. But you're a lying son of a bitch and I need to get to the bottom of whatever the fuck is going on here. Yeah those bastards did a number on me, but I am not so messed up that I can't see something is really wrong here."
"Sam, you have exactly ten seconds to uncuff me, or I swear to god…" Dean began to threaten.
"Oh can it Dean. Save your energy. Hey - maybe 'Candy' will come back and fulfil a few more expectations whilst I'm downstairs talking to Uncle Creepy."
Dean yelled and tried to kick at Sam. "Sammy don't – please don't." Sam hated the begging note in Dean's voice.
Sam picked up Dean's cell and put in a video-call to his own phone. He put Dean's phone carefully on the desk and angled the camera to make sure he could see his brother at all times on his own phone. He then pulled off all the band aids from his fingers, ripping open his wounds. Using the blood, he went around the room marking up angel wardings. "Just in case you decide to call Cas." Sam didn't want to waste time re-band aiding his fingers, so just quickly wrapped some gauze around them. Then dug around the duffel one more time.
Dean's eyes narrowed as Sam retrieved his knife and shoved it through the belt at the back of his jeans. "Sammy…whatever it is you think you're doing – stop it now. I mean it. Do not go down this road..."
"Then tell me the truth."
"I can't Sammy, I…" Dean faltered, and Sam was shocked to see his brother's eyes welling up. That alone only made Sam more determined to get to the bottom of this.
"Why can't you just trust me on this? Please Sam?"
"I'll be back soon Dean." Sam said softly. "Whatever this is – you don't have to go through it alone. When I find out, we'll face it together." He ignored his brothers shouts as he went out into the hallway, closing the door behind him.
Rather than take the elevator, he walked down the stairs, enjoying the freedom of stretching his legs. He could hear Dean still cursing through his cell phone, so turned the volume down low and put the phone in his hoodie pocket. Dean would be able to hear whatever conversations Sam had through his own phone on the desk but it didn't really matter: Sam needed to be able to check up on Dean to make sure he hadn't gotten out of that room until he had some answers.
The lobby was empty; Sam found nothing but empty chairs and the smell of old sweat. He called out to Phil but got no reply, so went behind the small reception desk and found a door marked Private. After knocking two or three times but getting no response, Sam tried the unlocked door. It opened into an office no bigger than their room upstairs. Phil was sat at a metal desk, totally engrossed in whatever game he was playing on a laptop. The office was tidier than Sam expected, and there was even a fairly healthy looking plant on the windowsill. As Sam announced himself with a loud cough, Phil looked up in surprise, then cursed as whatever character he was playing died.
"Shit fuck, I just started a comp game." He took a second to compose himself. "Sorry…Sam, was it? I'm not used to guests coming in here…not that we actually have many guests…"
"Hey, yeah, sorry about that Phil. I did call out, and knock, but I guess your game was pretty good huh?"
The hotel manager closed the laptop with a shrug. "Don't stress it: I spend too much time on there anyway. So what's up? You changed your mind and checking out already?"
"Oh, no, no nothing like that. It was something else actually. You mind if I sit down for a bit?"
"Pull up a pew Sam." Phil gestured to the rickety looking chair in front of his desk. "What can I do you for?" he joked. Phil seemed like a genuinely nice guy, and Sam really hoped he didn't need to start waving his knife about.
"This is kind of embarrassing. Not so much for me, but for my brother." He looked down at his bandaged hands and made a show of being a bit nervous.
"Embarrassing how? I've only known Dean a little while but I got the feeling it would take quite a bit for your brother to get embarrassed. And also, do you mind me asking - what happened to your hands?"
Sam looked at Phil as if he was unloading a burden. "I've had a pretty bad week to be honest - I've been staying with friends out of town and one of them had a huge crazy-ass dog. We took it out for a walk and it attacked some little dog and it took both of us to get it to leave the poor thing alone."
"Oh no!" If Phil was only playing nice, Sam couldn't tell.
"Oh its ok – the little dog is fine: it's me that came of worse. Trying to get Buster to open his jaws to let that other dog go, my hands got caught in the cross fire. Looks worse than it is, but I still had to go to the ER and get a shot. Some vacation huh?" Sam smiled ruefully.
"What happened to your friend's dog?"
"The cops took him away. My friend only had him a couple of months and he's never given him any trouble before. He was a stray, so who knows what's in the poor mutts past huh? You think he'll get put to sleep?"
"I really don't know much about dogs but, probably." Phil pointed to a kettle near the window. "You want a cuppa or something?"
"Oh no, but thanks. Gonna go out and grab some lunch soon. Maybe you can recommend me somewhere local? And cheap, cause I'll be paying for the both of us on my own. And that's kind of what I wanted to talk to you about."
"If it's about your bill you don't need to worry, Dean already paid up in advance…"
"What about the bill for the other room?"
"Same."
"And it was Dean that paid for that one too I bet." Sam looked annoyed. "See – that's the other thing that's ruined our vacation. The blonde woman that was with Dean. You ever see her before? She a regular here?"
"No…she arrived with Dean. She wasn't local - I think she was American like you guys. Why..?" He suddenly became wary.
Sam looked at Phil, a pained expression on his face. "I think she was a scammer."
"What? What happened?" Phil asked, concerned.
"I'm not entirely sure myself, but I think she tricked Dean out of quite a bit of money. He won't tell me the whole story – I think he's too embarrassed. He has a bit of a reputation as a ladies man, and...well, let's just say he never saw this coming."
Phil was worried. "Look, whoever she was, I can promise you she's nothing to do with this hotel…"
"No no!" Sam held up a hand. "Don't get me wrong. I'm not blaming you or your hotel at all. I'm just trying to get to the bottom of this in case I have to call the police."
Phil, to his credit, looked like he genuinely felt bad for Sam. He sat thoughtfully for a good long minute before answering. "Sam – being honest, I'm technically supposed to photocopy passports and keep a record of every guest's details. In reality...that doesn't happen so much. The Dorchester, we aint." He gave a nervous laugh. "People mostly stay here to get off the grid, if you know what I mean, your brother included. He gave me fifty quid just keep his name out of the guest register." He sighed. "You going to the police will cause a metric ton of aggro, so I want to help you find this woman without any interference if possible. You understand what I'm saying?"
Sam nodded. "Phil, I get it. I'd also prefer to sort this out myself than go to the cops. But if we get no luck, I won't have any choice. I'm not talking nickels and cents here, she stole a lot of cash. Did she give you her name when she checked in?"
Phil rubbed at his forehead furiously. Then got up and put the kettle on. Sam took the opportunity to look at his phone whilst Phil's back was turned. Dean was about as angry as Sam had ever seen him. He put the phone back in his pocket.
"Didn't Dean tell you her name?" Phil asked.
"Yeah, and it's the most ridiculous thing I ever heard." He waited until Phil sat back down, with a steaming mug of tea in hand. "It's a long shot, but I wanted to know if she maybe told you something, anything."
"She was quiet. Never said anything to me directly. Dean chatted away enough for the pair of them."
Sam clasped both palms against his forehead in frustration, but Phil held up a hand. "Hang on – I'm not finished. I've been wracking my brains trying to remember as many details as I can that could help. And I might have something: she made a mobile phone call the other day as she was coming out of the lobby."
He took a slow sip of tea, as he fought hard to remember the call. Normally, thoughtfulness and consideration were traits Sam admired, but now he wanted to scream at the guy to hurry up and get on with it. "I'm not 100% certain, I could be totally wrong, but I thought I heard her say something like 'Hi, its Mary'. She said it quietly and I wasn't listening all that hard, and that could have been a fake name too..."
Sam had stopped listening. Mary? Mary, like his mom? Blonde, American, Dean acting like his world just caved in, his hallucination of his mom outside the cell, Dean's mysterious arm wound? The coincidence was too much. His head swam and swam and he thought he might throw up.
Sam barely choked the next words out. "You have any surveillance cameras?"
Sam's composure had dropped and Phil could see nothing but raw emotion in Sam's face. "Do you know her?" Phil asked. "You do, don't you…?"
"I don't…I don't know for sure unless I see her. I need to see a photo, or video…"
"The hotel doesn't have any CCTV Sam. I mean, we do have a camera but it's never worked. It's just for show…" He trailed off as he could see the look on Sam's face hardening. "But next door does! The off-licence next door has cameras all over the place cause they've been robbed so many times. They probably have one or two facing the front."
"Off-licence?" Sam asked.
"Yeah, sells booze. Ranjit's a mate, he might have a look later if I ask."
Sam was done with all pretence. He stood up, pulled out a wad of notes from his pocket and placed it carefully on the desk in front of him. "Here's £500. Go ask him. Now." His tone left no room for argument.
Phil opened and closed his mouth, stunned at the huge amount of unexpected cash. He wasted no time grabbing his jacket and pocketing some of the cash on his way out of the office.
"Print me some pictures," Sam called out after him. "as clear as possible."
As soon as Phil was gone, Sam picked up his cell again and raised the volume. "You got anything you wanna say to me Dean?" His brother stared at him sullenly, with no answer. "Whose photo is Phil gonna come back with Dean?" Still nothing. His brother was one stubborn son of a bitch and was going to play this one final card long after the game was finished. Sam rolled his eyes at his brother's obstinacy. "Dean – why won't you talk to me? I would rather find out whatever this is from you than from a stranger…"
His brother finally replied, the tinny speaker not able to fully mask the emotion in Dean's voice.
"No, you don't Sam. You don't want to find out at all." Dean looked away from the camera and refused to say anything further.
