Once again, thanx all for the hits and reviews. I appreciate it. J.
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Dean sat at the kitchen table staring at the knots in the wood.
Missouri had persuaded him that Sam would be okay, and that it would be safe to come down and let her make him something to eat. Still, he sat close to the door, his ears cocked for the slightest sound coming from Sam's direction.
As Missouri cooked, Dean had filled her in on everything that had happened, and she listened with growing concern. Dean's description of events triggered something in her mind, and although she couldn't quite put her finger on it without looking at one of her reference books, she was sure it wasn't good news.
Dean jumped a little when a plate full of pancakes appeared in front of him.
"There you go," she smiled, placing a steadying hand on his shoulder. "Eat up."
Dean grinned. "Thanks. Did your psychic abilities tell you I love pancakes?"
Missouri returned the grin before turning back to the stove. "Nope. My eyes did. Last time you boys were here and I made them, I thought you were going to eat the plate too."
She took a pan off the heat and poured the contents into a mug before giving it a good stir. She then came back to the table and put the mug in front of Dean, then sat down opposite him.
Dean studied the brown, frothy contents before raising his eyebrows.
"Hot chocolate?" he queried.
"Sure, hot chocolate. What else do you think I'm going to give you at 4 am?"
"Oh, I don't know." Dean eyed her suspiciously. "Coffee would be good. Strong and black."
"That ain't going to happen, boy. At least, not tonight."
"I'm fine, Missouri." Dean snapped in frustration. "I don't need babying, I don't need coddling. What I NEED is to find out what's happening to Sam, and to get it fixed."
"And we will find out what's going on with Sam." Missouri stated calmly. "I promise you that, but right now you're NOT fine. You're a little stressed, a little confused and maybe a little scared too."
"Your spidey senses tell you all that, huh?" he spat sarcastically.
"I don't need any senses, honey. It's rolling off you in waves."
Dean sighed heavily and scrubbed at his eyes.
"I'm supposed to look out for him," he almost whispered. "Dad would kill me if he saw Sam now. I don't know what to do, Missouri."
She'd known the Winchester boys for a while now, and never had she seen Dean as close to tears as he was now, and it broke Missouri's heart. She knew the boy was the tough cookie, the confident one; the one who always had an answer for everything. The one who would never let his weaker side hang out. But Missouri Mosely knew even the tough ones had a breaking point, and Dean was riding the edge.
"Then I'll tell you what you should do," she said. "And it starts with getting some rest."
"No….." Dean started to protest.
"Now, boy, just hear me out." She in mock annoyance, carrying on when Dean gave up and stared at his mug. "Okay. Your description gave me something to work on, but I need to look at some books before I can be sure. Sam's going to be sleeping until at least the afternoon, which means you have nothing to do but stare at walls."
"I do know how to use a reference book." Dean pouted, making Missouri chuckle.
"I know you do, but I also know you're exhausted. If you don't lie down soon, you're going to fall down. And if you fall down, sugar, let me tell you, I can't haul your ass up, so the floor is where you'll stay."
It was Dean's turn to laugh.
"There's a room right across the hall from Sam. I promise if he wakes, I'll come get you."
After a long moment, Dean sighed. "Okay, okay. But you promise to come get me?"
"Honest Indians." Missouri stated, holding up a hand.
Dean raised an eyebrow. "Is that politically correct?"
Missouri laughed. "Go to bed."
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Dean looked in on Sam, and was sure he hadn't moved a muscle. Satisfied; although not entirely happy, he crossed the hall and went into his room. He stood for a moment looking at the bed before sitting down and taking his shoes off. A couple of hours sleep would be okay; hell, he probably wouldn't even manage that. Then he'd go down and help Missouri with her research. As he lay back on the bed and stretched out, a smell of lavender invaded his nostrils, and he wondered idly; when was the last time he had slept in a bed that had genuinely clean sheets?
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Missouri listened as Dean moved around the room above her head. By the time she had finished washing the dishes, all was quiet again. She crossed into the living room, taking a book from the shelf as she went, and sat down in a big armchair.
She knew which area of the book she wanted, and within seconds had found what she was looking for. The sketch on the page was of a human like figure. It had long, skinny arms and legs, sunken cheeks, a sorrowful expression and coal black eyes. Missouri read the description and traced her fingers across the demon's name.
"Soul Catcher."
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She moved quietly along the hallway to Dean's room and was not at all surprised to find the door ajar. Always on the lookout, she thought sadly. She peered into the room and found the elder Winchester flat out on the bed; dead to the world. She slipped quietly into the room and picking up the discarded fleece blanket, spread it across the sleeping man before stealing away and crossing the hall.
Looking at Sam, Missouri would swear the bruises weren't as strong as they were an hour ago, but then, from what Dean told her, she expected them to have disappeared altogether by lunchtime.
Missouri sat down on the bed, carefully placed a hand on Sam's chest and closed her eyes. For a moment nothing happened. Then slowly, she began to feel it.
Fear, hurt, anxiety, pain, anger.
The negative emotions began to build, getting stronger with each passing second, until they physically hurt Missouri. With a gasp, she opened her eyes and looked down at Sam. His eyes were half-mast, were coal black, and they were staring right at her.
"I see you." She whispered angrily.
A moment later, the black faded and Sam's eyes returned to their normal colour before slipping shut again.
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Missouri poured herself a cup of coffee and wandered out onto her back porch. The sky was just beginning to show light as the dawn approached. A thin mist hung in the air, weaving amongst the branches of the willows and carpeting the ground.
She smiled sadly at the people standing before her on the well manicured lawn. An elderly man, a red haired woman, and a little boy.
"I'm sorry." She told them. "Sam can't help you, but I think I can."
tbc
Sorry. I think I may have made Dean just a little too vulnerable here, but hey…put it down to him being sooooo tired. silly g