Chapter 2


The slamming of the metal door jarred him, and Dean popped his head up quickly, his eyes darting wildly and a look of complete disorientation and confusion on his face. It didn't take long for him to get his bearings or to lock eyes with the smug face complete with haughty smirk watching him.

"Your ass is gonna pay for that." Dean yelled through the pane, throwing the pillow over his shoulder, and fighting his way out of the blanket before jerking open the car door and stepping into the chilly evening air.

A wave of vertigo caught him and he leaned against the trunk of the car as he waited for it to pass. He would never give Sam the satisfaction of knowing he was right, but Dean had to admit his body was worn out. In his head, he tried to total the number of hours he must've slept but he couldn't quite bring himself to focus on the task. It didn't matter anyways; he was still fatigued and wanted nothing more than for Sam to hand him the key so he could crash again. The crashing granted him sleep, the sleep offered dreams, and the dreams gave him back his mother. Dean swallowed the lump in his throat and threw up a wall before those thoughts had time to linger.

As much as he wanted to, Dean knew he couldn't afford to sleep. He and his brother, who at the moment was moping and brooding more than any girl he'd ever known, had been given a task. He still didn't know the particulars. He was so angry at Sam for trying to hide it from him, he hadn't even asked about where they were going. But Sam knew, Dean was sure of that, the younger could never pass up research, simply because he'd always wanted to know everything.

Dean lifted his head, and catching sight of Sam exiting the office, shifted his position so it would appear as more of a casual lean than a desperate need to remain upright. He slapped on his signature smile, but one close-up of Sam's face and Dean knew he wasn't buying it.

"You look like crap." Sam stated bluntly, avoiding Dean's gaze as he walked over to the trunk, popping it open. The movement sent Dean back a bit and he had to reach out a stiff arm and grasp the door handle to steady himself once more, cursing under his breath because he was pretty sure his little brother had done it on purpose.

"Yeah, well, you don't look to good yourself. Got that whole raccoon thing going." Dean mumbled drawing circles around his eyes with his finger. Dean slowly released his hold and paused slightly to ensure he was steady before grabbing one of the bags Sam had thrown out onto the gravel lot and worked to hoist it, not failing to note the way Sam was studying him.

"Dean, I ca-" The younger began to offer, reaching out to take the bag.

"No." Dean interrupted harshly, gritting his teeth at the extra weight he had to lug into the room came to rest over his shoulder. He was tired, not useless, and was going to do his best to prove it. It was an act he'd perfected over time, and he was damn good at it.

The elder stumbled when the younger brushed past him practically running toward their quarters for the next few days or possibly weeks. Dean silently prayed it was the former. He wanted a simple in and out job. Nothing too major, and nothing that would require a huge amount of fire.

By the time Dean trudged into the room, Sam had almost unpacked completely. The older Winchester relaxed his shoulders, allowing the bags to drop to the floor with a thud. He wasn't even going to begin to try and place them on the bed. Dean crumpled into the bed and rolled over on his back, his eyes taking in the roadside motel scenery.

He had to admit the room was a lot nicer than they were used to. The floor appeared to be clean, and the adjacent bed neatly made. They had more space to move around, and the bathroom looked to be larger, but Dean didn't feel like getting up and actually verifying the assumption.

"You want to shower first?" Dean jumped as Sam's head came into view, his little brother leaning over his sprawled form, trying to maintain eye contact. Dean wasn't stupid, he could that "mothering" look in Sam's eyes coupled with guilt stemming from somewhere in his little brother's psyche.

He had been programmed to protect, and Sam had somehow been programmed to apologize. The simple question was holding just that, an attempt to redeem from snapping earlier. Dean was exhausted, but Sam had driven the entire way, a rarity for the kid, and he could clearly make out the weariness in his voice.

"Uh…no. You first." Dean conceded, reaching out and grabbing the TV remote, flipping the box on rapidly to dispel any chance of argument from Sam.

It worked and within minutes, the steady pulse of the water met Dean's ears. He sighed heavily as he flipped through the channels. There was nothing on, and had it been any other time, he'd have busied himself with unpacking and cleaning out his baby. But today that seemed all too strenuous, so he stared at the ceiling tracing the cracks in the tiles, relieved when the creaking of the bathroom door sounded throughout the room.

"So, what do you want for dinner? I saw a diner about a mile back." Dean propped himself up against the headboard, watching intently as Sam shook the water out from his hair and searched for a clean shirt.

"I'm not hungry." And he wasn't. Food had lost its appeal after he'd upchucked before they had even hit the road because Sam had forced him to eat that God-forsaken breakfast bar.

Dean honestly thought he'd be over the whole ordeal by now. He'd been just as amazed as Sam when he saw how relatively small his injuries were, and as far as he knew he didn't have an infection. To him, it didn't make sense. He should be totally recovered. Sam had insisted that it was his body's response to lack of sleep and intense stress and claimed what he needed was bed rest, but there was no way in hell he was gonna lie on his ass while his little brother got to do the fun stuff.

"Well, too bad. Get up, we're going."

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The Impala rolled to a stop outside the quaint restaurant. Sam put the car into park, the sight of Dean shaking his head catching his eye. The younger chose to ignore his brother's disapproval of his choice and his forcing him to eat yet again. But Sam was starting to get more and more worried that Dean would never snap out of this and recover if he didn't take care of himself, and that included more than just sleeping.

"Frankie's Family Pantry?" Dean scoffed, reading the hand-painted sign hanging above the door. "Are you mental?"

"I prefer intellectually superior." Sam shot back, the sound of jingling bells signaling their entrance as he open the door to the diner.

Dean was visibly stunned upon entering. The diner was packed, only a few small tables remained unused. The brothers maneuvered their way to one of them, sinking heavily down into the chairs. An employee brought them 2 glasses of waters and menus and then wandered back into the maze of people.

"You know for a family place, there sure aren't a lot of families. I think we're the youngest ones in here." Dean stated as he scoped out the area. The majority of people were in their late fifties maybe, early sixties. There was a group of priests on the far side and another group of business men just right of them. But absolutely no kids, or teenagers, even though a good number of people looked to be at parenting age.

"No, I am." The light airy voice jolted Dean from his concentrative state, and he could tell by Sam's small jerk, it had him as well. Both brother's turned their attention to the short, blonde waitress, revealing all of her pearly teeth with her huge smile.

"Oh, really? And how old might you be?" Dean asked, leaning on his elbows and flashing his best grin.

"Dean." Sam warned, shooting Dean a "stop now" glance, and then turned his attention back to the blushing waitress. "I apologize for my brother's behavior. We don't let him out in public often."

The insult earned Sam a sharp kick to the shins, and a laugh from the waitress. Dean sulked that his attempt at fun was shot to hell, a look of slight embarrassment present on his chiseled face.

"Nineteen. And I'm Sarah, by the way," the blonde smiled and the brothers quickly rattled off their names. "Now, what can I get for you?"

Sam got the usual, a bacon cheeseburger and fries. Just the thought sent Dean's stomach somersaulting but he knew if he ordered a salad, or any other type of light, girly food, Sam would know something was wrong. He opted for the BLT, and as soon as Sarah was out of ear shot, asked the younger to fill him in.

Dean had to laugh when Sam stuttered his way through the information, he hadn't brought his notes, and frankly, didn't really have any to bring. All he knew was that the town was experiencing an evacuation of sorts from those that comprised the younger generation. It seemed none wanted to stay, and Dean had mocked the situation stating that he couldn't for a moment imagine why that was.

The elder continued to joke until Sam pointed out that five young men from the area in their early twenties had disappeared, only to be found dumped in the same section of forest, with the same symbol burned over their heart. Sam went on to say that the details of the investigations were hard to come by and he'd barely managed to find anything regarding the symbol, not one article had described the thing. The brother's once again fell into silence when they saw Sarah approaching with their food.

"I've never seen you guys before. Are you investigators or something?" She queried, placing the food down in front of them and issued each a long look.

"What makes you say that?" Dean asked pointedly but his tone nice, his mouth turned down in slight disgust as he watched his younger brother scarf down his food.

"I heard you talking about the deaths and the symbol and everything." Sarah answered sheepishly, his eyes falling to the floor.

"Ah, well, as a matter of fact we are. Reporters, actually." Sam's eyes widened at the lie, but managed to shoot an agreeing grin despite the mouthful of beef.

"Oh. Well, good luck interviewing the people in this town. Already five reporters had to just pack up and go home with nothing." Sarah replied, a small sigh escaping her.

"And why's that?" Dean prompted, grateful that the conversation was keeping him from ingesting the greasy sandwich he'd ordered.

"Because everyone that would talk is gone. Nobody but the older crowd is left, and they seem hell-bent on staying silent." Sarah's voice betrayed her attempt to subdue her irritation.

"Well, you're still here. And if you wouldn't mind, my coworker and I would appreciate it if you granted us an interview." Dean ventured the request, he could sense Sarah knew something about the case.

"Ok" Sarah mumbled. "I could do that. But not here. It's not safe here."

"Why?" Sam questioned, rejoining the conversation, his burger long since devoured.

"Just trust me, ok? Where are you staying? I'll meet you there tonight."

The brother's agreed to her offer, set up a meeting time, and paid for the meal leaving Sarah a generous tip. Upon reaching the Impala, Dean hustled over to the driver's side, slipping into his seat, before Sam could protest. The little bit of food he'd eaten had succeeded in granting him a tiny bit of energy.

"So, what say we find a bar?" Dean offered trying to sound more like his usual self, as he turned the keys in the ignition.

"What say we go back to the hotel and research this thing some more so we know what we're dealing with instead of getting plastered." Sam replied curtly.

"Okay, okay. Dude, what did you and your friends do at college? Play Scrabble?" Dean retorted, pulling out from the lot and onto the main road.

"Yeah, but Monopoly nights were the best." Sam quipped, glad to hear a strong laugh from his brother, but quickly shifted back into work mode, "What do you think she meant by 'it's not safe'?"

"I don't know, Sammy, but I sure as hell can't wait to find out."

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Okay not much action this time around...next chap. though...laying some ground work. So lemme know what you think and if there were any major errors or something...thanx for reading