A/N: Glad to know some people are sticking with this! As for now, more strangeness to come. I love Sam angst in all forms along with the necessary Dean angst. If you've read my stuff, though, you already know that, so you should also know what to expect. I'm so rambling. Thank goodness I only have SIX days left until I am officially NOT a first year teacher anymore. As always, beta-ed by the unparalleled geminigrl11 who always knows how to save me from myself (I will not watch the show that cannot be mentioned--I won't!).
Chapter Five
It was nearly seven when Dean stumbled in. He attempted stealth, trying to will his legs to move fluidly, but he abandoned it when he saw Sam sitting in front of the laptop.
"You're up early," Dean commented, moving sluggishly to the bed.
Sam merely peered at him over the top of the laptop. "You're home late."
Dean laughed. "You should have stayed, Sammy. I'm telling you. You should have stayed."
Sam barely acknowledged him.
Dean flopped back onto the bed. "Just give me five minutes, bro, and then we'll head out and get some breakfast. Okay?"
With raised eyebrows, Sam watched as his brother relaxed on the comforter. Only seconds passed before Sam saw the even rise and fall of his brother's chest and knew he would not be waking up in anytime near five minutes.
He glanced at the clock. He could probably get in some research around town and be back before Dean even got up. It was better than staring at the computer--his eyes burned after his long night.
Once outside, the morning sun was glaring, seeming to find every metallic surface and reflecting into Sam's sleep-deprived eyes. He wished he had Dean's sunglasses for a moment, but instead squinted and moved ahead.
He had only made it a few feet when a yawn pulled through him, and he didn't try to fight the sudden, uncontrollable need for caffeine.
With a sigh, he made his way into the café.
OOOOOOO
The café was as close to deserted as it had been the day before, and Sam wondered fleetingly how it stayed in business. After ordering his coffee, Sam sat at a table, head in his hand, as he tried to piece together all that had been happening since they arrived in New Junction.
But his thoughts kept running in circles, and he could never quite remember what had been dreamed and what had been real.
A man paused beside his table, and it took a moment for Sam to look at him. They knew no one in town, aside from the oh-so-helpful garage staff, and he hadn't really expected anyone to be speaking to him.
The man gazed at him with an odd intensity, but Sam was too tired to fully notice.
The man, with closely cropped dark hair, stared a second longer, before cocking his head. "You passing through?" the man asked.
Sam nodded distantly. This was a conversation he was used to. "Yeah."
"But you stay not by choice," he said, his voice carrying a certainty that made Sam focus.
He studied the man, trying not to appear unnerved. "What do you mean?"
"You are not here by choice," the man said again, his eyes narrowing as he focused in on Sam. Then he offered his hand. "My name is Dominic."
Sam took the proffered hand slowly. "I'm Sam."
"Sam. Why are you here?"
"Our car broke down and we have to wait for the parts to come in."
Dominic leaned in. "I could sense you the moment you came to town. Your aura—it's like a beacon."
Uncomfortable, Sam shifted in his seat. He could sense me? My aura? Nothing seemed to make sense.
"And this town—you've sensed this town since the moment you got here, haven't you?"
Sam stared at him, drawn in by the lure of information. "What about the town?"
"I don't know," Dominic said plainly with a noncommital shrug. "But I can tell you it's a new thing. This--whatever it is--has only come for the last few days. It's only come with you."
Sam tried to keep up with Dominic's vague answers. "What do you mean?"
"You need to be careful, Sam. It's everywhere."
Sam tried to contain his frustration. "What's everywhere?"
Dominic narrowed his eyes further, looked intensely at him for a moment.
Sam waited, attempting patience, hoping he didn't look as confused as he felt.
Finally Dominic sat back. "Here," he said, holding out a card. "In case you need anything."
Sam took the card, looking at it slowly. It was a simple card, just a name, address, and number. Dominic Neville. 66 Enders Lane. (515) 555-7663.
He stood, looking down at Sam, an expression Sam couldn't read plastered on his face. "It's near you, Sam, and only you."
Sam's confusion mixed with a sudden foreboding that made him feel sick.
Dominic offered him a half-smile. "Maybe I'll see you tomorrow."
"Yeah," Sam replied thickly.
Dominic turned to go. Betrayer.
Sam opened his mouth to ask him to repeat himself, to ask if he'd said that or heard it, but Dominic was halfway out the door before Sam could give the words voice.
OOOOOOO
Sam's stomach growled as he got out his motel room key.
Dean was up, lounging on the bed with the remote poised in his hand. "Where'd you go? Told you I'd be up in five minutes."
"Wasn't gone that long," Sam said, plopping down on the other bed.
Dean glanced at the clock. "Five hours? I've been out to breakfast and back."
Sam looked surprised. "Five hours? It can't be."
"It's almost noon. Didn't you think to leave a note? And turn on your cell next time. I don't want you wandering off where I can't find you. You don't have a good history around hicks in small towns."
Sam just kept staring at the clock in disbelief.
"Where'd you go anyway?"
"Just…exploring," Sam said distantly, trying to recount his steps. "Met a guy at the café."
Dean raised his eyebrows.
Sam rolled his eyes. "I think he knows something. About this town."
"What about the town?"
"What's going on here."
"And what is going on here?"
"I told you, Dean, something's off."
"Right, psychic boy," Dean said, his skepticism barely masked. "Your vibes."
Sam gave Dean a perturbed look. "I'm serious. The guy at the café said it had started suddenly, that it was new, but that it was real."
"Yes, and we believe everything that strange men tell us in small town cafés. Dude, we need something more than some guy's testimony and your vibes. Something concrete. We can't exorcise air." Dean hated to write of Sam's concerns so quickly, but his behavior was becoming more than slighlty problematic. He didn't want to admit just how worried he'd been when he couldn't contact Sam, and anger seemed to be the best way of hiding it.
"That's why we need to keep looking."
"We have been looking, Sammy. No one--besides your weird psychic vibe guy--says anything strange is going on."
Leveling Dean with an irritated look, Sam said, "The only thing you've talked to the locals about is where to hook up."
Dean looked ready to protest but it melted to a grin. "You know, Candy said there's a swimming pool. Her friend, the little curly-haired one--she's the lifeguard. I figure I'll check on the car, and we get a little water-time in." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, but Sam didn't respond to it.
"I'm taking the EMF and sweeping the area. I'll meet you for breakfast."
"Lunch, Sammy. Lunch. You're skipping meals."
Sam let out an exasperated sigh. "Fine. Whatever. Lunch, then."
"No more than 20 minutes, Sammy. You look like you could use some food."
"Yes, mother."
