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Chapter Seven
John stared at Sam. "What do you mean what do we do now?"
Sam rolled his eyes, apparently trying to suppress his anger. "I mean, we can't just leave Dean there, we have to go get him."
John studied Sam's face closely; he was unwilling to put Sam in any kind of danger if it would be avoided.
"I'm going to go round a few bars, try and find out where this fight club is, then I'll go and get Dean." And kick his ass for those guys…for scaring me.
Sam sensed John's thoughts, anger at boiling point in him.
"I am not going to sit here while you go get drunk!" He said loudly, commandingly, with a fury no teen could master.
John felt like a commander was yelling at him back in the marine days. He turned shocked eyes to his son.
The anger in him wavered and vanished, Sam was flustered, he was trying to be strong and his decisiveness fuelled by anger to his father. Sam wanted to save Dean, at whatever cost.
"Do you really think I would abandon your brother?" John asked quietly, dreading the answer.
Sam looked shocked, not the reaction he had been steeling himself for. His forehead furrowed in thought. Then he looked up to his father as though he were seeing someone worth while for once, not as though he were looking at a commander, a drill sergeant, a torturer.
"No dad." It was honest. John let out the breath he didn't know he was holding. There was no 'sir', no anger, no defiance, just love, acceptance. Something he didn't get from either boy much.
Though he couldn't blame them, he was hardly the father of the millennium. But he did his best.
And he would rip this town apart and search until hell froze over to find his son. To save his son.
To right a wrong.
Dean was never meant to have this life, and John couldn't help but blame himself for it. Even though he knew Dean didn't.
"Come on then Sam." John said, grabbing the keys and the note. He had a son to find.
"I'm coming?"
John turned back to his son. "Yes son, I wouldn't normally, but this time, you're right, we can't leave him and I'll need you to convince Dean to leave…"
"Me?"
John shook his head slightly. "Sammy, no one on this earth can resist those eyes."
For the first time in a long time the both laughed, because it eased the tension.
OoOoOoOoO
Dean stumbled again, falling to his knees. He pulled himself up again. His eyes set on the back door of the fight club.
"I'm coming back you bastard." He whispered briefly as the world started spinning again.
OoOoOoOoO
The thing John Winchester loved about this town was that all the bad ass fight club punks were easy to pick.
He loved it even more when they gave him directions to the fight club in question.
He loved it when they were so drunk they didn't realise Sam had been taking note of everything they said.
In fact, it made his day, or night.
Whatever.
The point was he was happy to be strolling past, or rather knocking out the bouncer at the front door of a fight club belonging to none other that McFinnigan.
He charged through the door and up the staircase, Sam trailing behind him, they entered, unseen by everyone there, overlooked.
Then he saw it, in the corner, a black back.
Dean's bag.
OoOoOoOoO
Red entered the side door to the fight club. He had left briefly before realising the kid's bag was here.
It needed to be disposed of. No evidence would point to him.
He was never that sloppy.
Though he didn't expect to walk into the room and have himself thrown against a wall by a man his height, with such brutal strength he almost started shaking. Almost.
"Do you know who I am?" Red demanded of the man.
"You're the idiot who better be giving me directions to my son before you get your oversized head stuck in a car door." The man growled back.
Now Red really did start shaking.
"Take it to the ring!" Someone yelled. Obviously eager to see blood spilt. Red made a mental note to have that fighter kicked out later, literally.
The man pushed him towards the mat. Ready to punch the hell out of him.
OoOoOoOoO
Sam watched his father prepare to beat Dean's whereabouts out of the man. He had already taken on one guy who was trying to get away with money from Dean's bag.
That man had told them of Dean's defeat.
That man had pointed out McFinnigan.
That man was going to wake up in a couple of hours with a concussion.
Sam loved his dad sometimes.
His eyes strayed to the door, a shadow moved beyond the entrance. A figure leaning heavily on the doorframe. Another fighter that had lost. Sam pitied anyone who came here for fun; they clearly had fun issues, and warped self preservation. Yet, Sam admired Dean for coming. It proved how far he went for his family.
Sam watched his father, drag the man to the mat. He could sense John was mad. He lingered in the shadows of a corner, staying out of sight, not wanting to be attacked by drunken fighters. He didn't feel like knocking them all out.
John raised his fist as a voice rang out over the room, attracting all attention.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you."
TBC
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So, who wants to guess who said that? And why?
Need some dramatic music to play…
Hope you guys are still liking/loving this. Thanks for all your support. Next chapter coming as soon as I write it. By the way, I am going to 'up' the rating just to be safe, though you won't be getting anything that wouldn't be in the show, I hope.
KEEP SMILIN' :)