A/N - Thanks for the positive feedback on 14--Dean's voice is hard to find when you're doing chick-flick stuff. And no, I'm not at all allergic to chocolate brownies, so bring them on! This chapter is pure exposition. Wolf Laurel is a real place, but I've taken some license with it. Ass-kicking will commence in Chapter 16, and Chapter 17 will probably wrap this story up.
Three days later, Sam and Dean Winchester were loading the car for their trip to a place called Wolf Laurel, North Carolina, located in the Blue Ridge mountains about five hours west of Raleigh. This was where the last set of coordinates were pointing, and Sam had been unable to dig up any mention of strange deaths or unexplained happenings in the area. He and Dean figured that this meant Sarah's hunch had been right; the demon was luring them there in an attempt to cross into the physical plane, and they had planned accordingly.
Sam couldn't help but smile a little as he stood on the front porch and watched his brother making the last minute preparations, checking their weapons and supplies, and even making sure that his precious upholstery no longer bore any traces of their bloody encounter with Abigail--Dean seemed to be everywhere at once, practically vibrating with excitement and energy.
"He's like a kid at Christmas," observed Sarah, who had come to stand next to Sam, "You'd never believe that anyone could be this excited about encountering a demon."
Sam nodded. On a hunt, Dean truly was in his element. Sam felt foolish for not realizing it earlier; he had always assumed that Dean was like him, wanting a normal life, and part of his resentment toward his brother had been fueled by the thought that Dean wasn't being true to himself and was following their father out ofblind loyaltyand a desire to please, to be the better son. Knowing that wasn't true took a weight off the younger Winchester's shoulders somehow. It also made Sam feel almost jealous, wishing he could be that comfortable in this life, but he shook it off. There would be time to think about the future later, and if Sam were honest with himself he'd have to admit that in this case he was as anxious as his brother was for a little payback.
Sarah turned her attention from Dean and focused on Sam, looking serious. "Your presence will most likely trigger the demon's attack, and it will only be strong enough to really come at you after nightfall. I know we've been over this a million times, Sam, but I've got to tell you one more time--your first concern, beyond reinforcing the circle of protection, beyond the incantation that will slow this thing down enough for Dean to destroy it--your first concern, your only concern, is in not allowing yourself to be separated from your brother, no matter what. Neither of you can take this demon out alone."
"I know," said Sam, and Sarah nodded her approval. Dean had finished his last checks and came bounding up the steps to the front porch, whistling under his breath. Sam rolled his eyes as he recognized the tune--Iron Man by Black Sabbath.
"Well, we're packed up and good to go," said Dean, looking from Sarah to Sam. "You ready, bro?"
"Sure thing." Sam extended his hand to Sarah, "Thanks for everything. We'll never be able to repay you." Sarah ignored the hand in favor of a tight hug. "Just kill that demon, Sam. That'll be thanks enough." Sam smiled and stepped out of the embrace, clearing the way for Sarah to get to Dean.
The psychic just laughed at the suddenly wary look on the elder Winchester's face. "C'mere, you," she said, hugging him. After a moment, Dean returned the hug, but kept his smile hidden. Sarah released Dean and then held up a hand. "I almost forgot--one more thing before you go."
Sarah disappeared into the house and returned a minute later bearing a thermos, which she handed to Sam. "A little something to help you both see more clearly when you're fighting this demon," she said. "It's a special tea--an old recipe--that enhances the sixth sense."
Dean looked at her as though she'd grown a second head. "Are you giving us drugs?" he asked.
"No, you goober, just an herbal tea. It helps me read difficult auras, clears the areas of my mind that I use in reading objects. I think it'll help you use your strengths more effectively, that's all. Drink it when you reach the coordinates--one cup each, and then afterward, if you need to, to help you recover."
Dean looked ready to comment, but Sam cut him off. "Thanks again, Sarah."
Sarah watched them get into the Impala, calling out, "Y'all call and let me know how it turns out now, you hear?"
"Yes mom," Dean said under his breath but Sam just smiled and waved, saying, "We promise!"
Five hours later, the Winchesters found themselves on yet another winding two lane road as they ascended the thickly forested mountain where Wolf Laurel was located. Although it was late autumn and a lot of the trees had lost their foliage, the trees were so close together and there was so much vegetation that Dean felt uncomfortably hemmed in by their surroundings. Near the top of the mountain, Dean spotted a pair of open gates with lettering that read Welcome to Wolf Laurel Ski Resort. Sam checked the GPS and nodded, so Dean turned off the main road and started up the steeply sloping drive.
The resort was fairly small--a lodge, some lifts, and a few scattered homes were the only structures on the property. There hadn't been any snowfall yet, so there were no skiers, and neither Dean nor Sam could see any employees.
"Let's check it out," said Dean, and the brothers exited the car, shivering as the cold hit them. The temperature had dropped as they had climbed, and the wind had picked up as well; at this altitude it was no longer blocked by the surrounding mountains.
The brothers headed over to the lodge, where a wraparound porch afforded a 360 degree view of the mountain they were on. They made a slow circuit of the porch, scanning the landscape.
As they came around to the north-facing side of the lodge, Sam found what they were looking for. "Dean, look!" he said, indicating a ski run that was bisected by an enormous boulder. Even from this distance, Dean could see that there was a ring around the boulder where nothing was growing, and not just because it was autumn. The land surrounding the rock looked blasted, blackened soil like a gash against the greens and browns nearby.
"That looks about 1/2 mile away from here, at least," Dean said, and checked his watch. It was 3:00. "We need to get our supplies and get a move on--we're going to have to climb that ski run on foot, and we're almost out of daylight."
"Yeah," said Sam, suppressing a shiver, and they headed back to the car to prepare.
By 5:00, Dean, Sam, and what looked to be a small arsenal of flammable items were assembled in the shadow of a large rock in the middle of a ski resort in western North Carolina. Dean had cleared space and built a small fire--both for warmth and for weaponry--inside their protective circle. Both brothers knew that it wouldn't hold long, but they hoped it would give them enough time to torch the demon once it appeared. Sam sat huddled near the fire, his father's journal with the incantations they'd deemed most useful in one hand, a cup of Sarah's special tea in the other. The tea tasted good, spicy and still warm despite the long journey. He finished his, and poured out a cup for Dean, who hesitated a little bit before drinking it, studying Sam closely.
"What?" Sam asked finally, tired of being stared at.
Dean shrugged. "Just wanted to see if you were going to start yelling about being the lizard king or anything, dude. You know how I am about all this spiritual brotherly auraenhancing mumbo-jumbo."
Sam lifted an eyebrow. "So don't drink it."
Dean shook his head. "Can't let you have all the fun, now, can I?" he asked, downing his in one gulp and smacking his lips afterward. "That wasn't half bad." He checked his watch again. 5:15. It wouldn't be long now.