Chapter 11

Dean was dog-tired. His mind was smoking from the night of driving. Alone with his thoughts. He didn't even get a cup of coffee when they finally rolled into the outskirts of Madison and stopped into an old diner. Lou's Diner. Like one of those ones from the '50s. Only this one looked time had not been good to it.

The booth cushions were duct-taped together in places. The tables were wobbly and peeling. But the waitress was very nice, the food was hot and decent. After going all night Dean was tired and hungry. He was happy to be wherever the food was. The other customers were a mix of blue-collar workers. Either just getting off the night-shift, or just going into their day shift. Sam and Dean blended right into all the flannel.

Sam brought out his laptop to go over the facts of the case again.

As they ate, they determined they would find a motel for the night first. Dean was going to take a nap while Sam played dress-up to visit their victim at his day job. Ask him for their missing information. Sam would return to the motel and they would plan from there.

When they entered their room, Sam went to turn towards his bag for the appropriate attire for the 'interrogation'. Dean just flopped face-first onto his bed. When Sam had come out of the bathroom, showered, shaved, and read to play FBI, he found Dean in the exact same position he had left him in.

Dean had completely zonked out. Fully-clothed. Shoes still on.

He was out for a good few hours. A dreamless sleep.

Sam was able to get all the necessary information from the victim that was needed to pinpoint where and who. He was able to conclude that the location of the initial poisoning was a local BBQ joint. One of the waitstaff had to be their Djinn.

Upon return to the motel several hours later, after casing the currently closed restaurant, Sam found Dean in the exact same position he had left him in. Again. Dude hadn't even woken up to take his shoes off. Sam immediately tried waking him, only to be greeted with a sneer and a pillow to the face. Well, at least he was alive.

Since it was evident that Dean was out of commission for the foreseeable future, Sam was left to go find lunch, and do some more digging into the case. Can't ever be too prepared. He looked up everything from the restaurant's history and current staff list to hacking into their security camera system. Hoping something would lead him to a who.

After a couple of hours more of research, Sam kept coming back to the same set of facts. The bar of the restaurant was where all the action happened. Not only had he seen their current victim on the footage, but he was also able to go back far enough to see the last two people who had been reported missing. That's not all he was able to find out.

Dean groaned as he rolled over and sat up. He looked over at the dimly lit table where Sam was working.

"What time is it and why didn't you wake me up?"

"It's about 4 PM and I tried. And got a pillow to the face. I know better than to wake you up when you get like that, Dean." Sam pulled another Bitchface as Dean stood, realizing he was still wearing shoes and the whole nine yards. Damn, he really must have been OUT.

"So, get this." Sam immediately launched into his research and his findings of that morning and afternoon.

"So, I've narrowed it down to the bar inside. I have even made a list of the employees that were working the nights of the three abductions. I didn't find any common customers, ruling out the possibility that it's someone who frequents this place." Sam concluded, after his long explanation of his findings while Dean had been noncoherent.

"I brought you a cold brew. It's in the mini-fridge. You're welcome."

Dean looked up, surprised. "Thanks, Sammy." He said as he turned toward the mini-fridge in the cupboard in the corner. Thankful that his little brother had his back. Even in these smallest of ways.

"I'm just going to shower and change and we can head on over there and check things out," Dean said as he grabbed his discarded bag from the floor next to his bed.

"Ok. I'll take a nap in the meantime. Since you got me beat in the sleep department and all. I have to do some catching up." Sam said in a mocking tone.

Dean threw him one of his own Bitchfaces before heading into the small bathroom.

Damn, Dean really must have been tired. He stretched as he let the water run hot. He could feel the stiffness. In every muscle. Even the ones he didn't know he had. It wasn't the same as sitting in a car for hours and hours on end. That was natural. Second nature. It was the haven't moved a muscle in more than several hours kind of stiff.

The steam of the shower was quickly filling the small space as he stepped into the tub, and pulled the curtain closed securely. Dean turned his back to the spray and let it hit the base of his neck as he moved his head from side to side. Letting the hot water loosen the knots that had formed from being facedown for so long.

As Dean continued to wake up, loosen up his stiff muscles, and regain full brain function, a thought occurred to him; J hadn't been in his dreams. In fact, he didn't recall anything at all. Not too strange, but considering the last few nights, it still felt slightly off normal. Abnormal.

He should have been excited to get some decent sleep since that is a commodity for hunters. You take it when and where you can get it. And with everything that was going on in real life, as well as in his dreams, considered. But he still could not help himself when he thought about how it felt… lonely. Cold.

Almost as if he had subconsciously been expecting her to be there. It was almost as if he was looking forward to it, and was now slightly disappointed that it had not happened again. Dean guessed he just assumed J would show up again. As to why he would assume such things, remained a mystery.

Back at The Roadhouse, Sam and Dean had left before she showed up to help with the night shift. There wasn't any time for Dean to even see her, let alone talk to her. And Jo had not been any more forthcoming with information about her.

At least she promised that she was doing the same thing to J when it came to information about himself. Jo was keeping to the 'you guys go find out on your own' method. And she was surprisingly resolute.

As he turned to put his face into the hot spray, behind his closed eyelids, he saw green and brown duo-toned eyes. Honey covered emeralds. He missed them. Missed their fire. He wondered where she was and what she was doing. What was she doing while he stood naked and wet in this shower hundreds of miles away? The picture of her bent over her work, from the first time Dean saw J, appeared in his head. Then the vision of red lace from his first dream.

The way she had looked at him that first night during his dream. Before Dean was aware that what was happening was real. He almost felt like he was under her intense gaze just thinking about those moments. That J was in control of her appearance of herself in his own dreams. And she chose red lace. The same red lace he had caught just a glimpse of the first time he had laid eyes on her? He hoped so. The piercings hiding underneath the light fabric…

Dean wanted to play with those piercings. He wanted to kiss those full lips. He wanted to wrap his arms around this woman and squeeze that perfect ass as he had in his dream. He wanted J and the physical need was becoming more and more apparent. More and more of a problem. A complication. A distraction.

He had to keep his mind clear. Dean was afraid that if he didn't, he would make another mistake. Mistakes are not an option in this line of work. So, he allowed himself to think of what he had kept unthinkable. Until now.

Dean thought of that tattoo. Tracing it with his teeth and his tongue, feeling J's legs wrap around him as he did so. Feeling her hair entwined in his fingers as he pulled her head back to gain access to her neck. Running his hands all over the hot flesh he had once felt so closely but remained so far. Eliciting lustful exclamations and reactions in return.

Dean wondered what she really sounded like. What she really looked like when she was being handled in such a way. How would she handle him?

As the images continued to flash through his head, he relieved some of the physical pressure that had been building since he first laid eyes on this tall, dark, and mysterious stranger. The now warm water ran down, washing away his tension. Both metaphorically and physically, now.

Dean shivered. This time it was the water. He was confident he wouldn't be distracted during this hunt. He had fixed the problem. At least for the time being. J wasn't just going to go away, he knew that.

But he was also determined to leave these thoughts in this shower, and get this job done. For the time being.

No distractions. No mistakes. Clean.

Dean stepped out of the shower and wiped the fogged-up mirror with his towel. He was able to look upon his reflection momentarily before the fog consumed it once more. He saw his eyes and the shadows beneath. He looked like he had not slept in days.

'Keep your head in the game. Keep your eyes on the prize… of a job well done.' He added, thinking again of J in her red lace. 'This might be a little harder than I initially anticipated.' Dean thought to himself as he finished getting dressed in the now too steamy bathroom.

'Son of a bitch.'

He wiped the mirror again of condensation and looked himself hard in the reflection. He saw a battle being fought behind the green eyes that stared back at him. A cold war.

Dean hoped Sam wouldn't notice. And if he did, he prayed to God that he wouldn't say anything. No chick flick moments. There was no way in hell Dean was even going to attempt to explain what was going on.

He focused himself on the job at hand and reached for the door handle. It was time to wake Sammy up and get this show on the road.

There was a monster to kill.