"We need an idea," Dean said. The two were sitting across from each other at a diner booth, both with laptops pulled out and platters of eggs and bacon in front of them. Dean took a gulp of hot black coffee. Sam didn't reply.
"Hey, space man. You hear me?" Dean waved his hand around to get Sam's attention, who glanced up from his screen with a glare.
"Look, I'm sorry. But I don't know what to do, ok?"
"What?"
"I'm sorry. My idea didn't work, and I don't have any more."
Dean frowned. "Are you talking about last night? Hey, it doesn't matter. I barely even remember what happened. I'm talking about a lead, you got anything?"
Sam shook his head.
"A weird animal attack over in Louisana, but it doesn't look like much."
Dean slammed shut his laptop and shoved some eggs in his mouth.
"Let's go," he said. He picked up his stuff, dropped a few twenties on the table, and walked towards the door. He didn't look back to see if Sam would follow.
The brothers pulled into Jean Lafitte, Louisiana, about six hours later. Dean parked in the parking lot of a small sketchy motel near the edge of town. The trees of the bayou surrounded the area; they both could smell the swamp as they got out of the car into still sweltering heat.
They got a room for the week under the surname Bartholomew. As they walked in, Sam switched on the window air conditioner and Dean decidedly fell onto one of the beds.
"First thing we should hit the morgue," Sam said, dropping his duffel on a chair.
"It's too late," Dean replied.
"They're probably open, and it'll be quiet. It's better we're not interrupted anyway."
Dean sighed and ran his hands through his hair.
"Fine. Put on the monkey suit," he said.
When Sam came out of the bathroom, he saw Dean asleep where he had plopped on the bed. He smiled a little, gently picked Dean's pocket for the Impala keys, and after writing him a note he left for the morgue.
Dean woke up in a sweat. He looked at Sam, who had his laptop open on the table and glanced over as his brother sat up shakily.
"You ok?" Sam asked tentatively. Dean waved his concerns away but stumbled as he tried to stand. He clutched the edge of the bed, and Sam half rose out of his chair to help, but Dean pushed himself upright and walked slowly into the other room. He closed the door behind him and sank to the floor.
After taking a few minutes to calm down, he opened the door and went to sit at the table with Sam. He grabbed a beer out of the fridge on his way over.
"So I guess I didn't make it to the morgue," he said groggily.
"Other than you look like you're on your way there, no," Sam muttered.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"What'd you find?"
"The body was pretty deteriorated; it floated in the water for several days. Funnily enough, they only found it because an alligator dragged the remains into someone's backyard. What's left is barely recognizable, but the body's neck had a clear bite mark that's unidentifiable. It's not a vamp, not a werewolf, no known animal down here. I got some pictures through the mortician's assistant." Sam spun around his laptop so that Dean could look through the pictures.
"Huh," he said.
"Yeah. I've done a little research, and the only thing I've found is the Honey Island Swamp Monster. It's an old Bigfoot type legend."
"Literal Bigfoot?"
"It's probably shit, but it's the only thing I've got right now."
"Well, let's go find some locals and mingle," Dean said, pushing up from the table.
"You just want a drink," Sam said, half a smile on his face. Dean shrugged.
"Yeah. So?"
Sam shook his head as Dean grabbed his jacket and his keys.
"Let's go mingle," he said, standing by the door. Sam shut his laptop and walked out, Dean following. Before he closed the door behind him, he felt a gentle chill breeze float past him, which sent shivers up his neck. He glanced back into the room, looking for anything that might have caused it. Nothing was there.
"Dean. You coming?" Sam called. Dean shook his head to clear it and shut the door.
The two of them found a parking spot on Main Street and got out of the Impala. There were two or three bars on the street, and the two walked down the sidewalk, bordered by dark wooden buildings. The sun had begun to sink behind the trees and it left the town in an eerie orange light.
Next to one of the bars, there was a small shop of curiosities. As they walked by, Sam stopped suddenly, staring at the store. Dean paused and glanced over his shoulder.
"Hey, you coming?" he asked. Sam didn't reply but went into the shop, the screen door slamming behind him. Dean sighed and followed him.
It was dark inside, the only light coming from a lamp on the counter and the sun filtering through the screen. The brothers looked around the shop, which was crowded with a jumble of curios, such as candles and teacups and key chains. Dean found a corner of mainstream occult objects which he glanced over while Sam checked something out at the register. When he was finished, they walked back outside together, Sam holding a gift bag in one hand.
"What, you turning into a housewife now?" Dean asked as they got outside.
Sam didn't answer but just walked back towards the car. He opened the passenger door, tossed the bag onto the seat, and lifted out a small dreamcatcher. Dean frowned at him.
"Really?" he scoffed.
"What? It has a flawless lore of keeping nightmares away. With a little enhancement, we have a shot at making it fairy-proof. Even if we can't catch the thing, we can try to hold it back for awhile."
"It's superstitious bullshit."
"But don't you think it's worth a try?" Sam asked. Dean rolled his eyes.
"Fine. But if I catch you buying a rabbit's foot, I'll burn it."
Sam shrugged, slammed the door of the Impala shut, and the two of them walked back to the bar.
A/N: I AM SO SORRY I HAVE BEEN GONE SO LONG. I promise I'll try to post again more often. First my old laptop got water spilled all over it and then I got a job that requires waking up at 4am and I just let this story slip by... But I love it and I'm going to finish it. And I'll post other stories soon too. So so sorry, but I'm glad to be back.