Chapter 4
Sam and Dean spent the better part of the morning checking out the properties on the east side of the county, three to be exact. Each inspection went pretty much the same: Dean parked the Impala about a mile down the road, each hunter, with weapon in hand, approached the property cautiously, and Dean always went first followed by Sammy of course.
Sam had objected to the last part of their strategy explaining that it would be easier to recognize things if he was actually looking forward but Dean would hear none of it. Instead, back to back, they checked out each place and space and only after determining the situation to be "safe" would Dean allow Sam to look around freely. Sam didn't bother to question the routine anymore, instead, he followed the strategy his big brother had laid out. After all, he did appreciate his brother's concern. Sam just hoped that the upcoming inspection would end the same as it had happened three times before, approximately thirty minutes into the search, Dean looks at Sam, Sam shakes his head, and they trek back to the Impala.
When they arrived less than a mile from the fourth property, Dean, after admiring the rumbling idle of his baby, cut the engine and moved to exit his poor dust covered car. He was halted by his brother's quiet call.
"Hey, Dean?"
Dean turned back, eyebrows raised, to look at his younger brother. He knew that tone and what his little brother was going to ask even before he began to painstakingly try to say it.
"You don't think," Sam paused, glancing down at his hands resting nervously on his worn jeans, " I mean… What I mean is.."
Dean noticed Sam's difficulty in getting the words out and resettled back down in his seat, his body now angled in Sam's direction, his eyes supportive.
Sam continued, "Do you think that we might actually be causing my vision to come true by being out here. I mean, maybe us finding the place leads to… you know – my death?"
There it was again… out in the open - Sam's vision of his coming death.
"Sam," interrupted Dean shaking his head. "No, I don't and let's go over this again. Your vision…it's not gonna happen! I mean it, Sam, I WON'T allow it!" Dean, surprised by the forcefulness of his own voice, softened his tone and continued, trying to reason with his little brother, trying to convince Sam, as much as himself, that he would be safe, the vision would be prevented and that the plan was a good one.
"Look, the way I see it we have two choices… wait for this … "thing" … to happen and try to stop it, having no idea what we're up against (or) try to get more details, ya know, check these places out, see if they clarify your vision in any way. At least if we know where you'll be or what we're hunting, we can stop it before it hurts you."
Sam already knew Dean was right. To wait and do nothing was a weak plan at best. Dad had ingrained it in both of them years earlier. Be the hunter, not the hunted. Know what you're up against and choose the terms of the hunt, its location, its weapons of warfare.
Sam almost wished Dad were here. As much as he questioned the man and defied his absolute, sometimes drill sergeant approach to parenting, it gave the illusion that he was in total control of each and every situation and for now, Sam wished for that touch of security. Sam paused before concluding his thought- in reality, however, it really was Dean who offered Sam security-always had, always would.
Dean's eyes looked sympathetically at Sam's, waiting for his response.
"Yeah, your right." Sam replied appreciatively.
"Are we okay, Sam?" Dean questioned finally.
Sam nodded, opened his car door and stepped out. Dean watched, deep in thought. He had asked himself the same question three houses back and drawn the same conclusion. Still, to hear it again put Dean even more on edge. What if….? Dean shoved the question beginning to brew out of his head.
With weapons, pre-chosen, they checked out the property with stealth-like precision, their movements matched and intentional, back to back, connected, weapons raised and ready, turning in synchronized fashion as if performing a dance perfectly choreographed.
The result was nonetheless the same. Nothing was familiar, nothing was found, Sam shook his head, and they moved on.
"One more?" Dean questioned detecting Sam's disappointment that the day was slipping away and they had made no progress in unraveling the mystery that hung like a noose before him.
"Sure," Sammy replied, glad to see Dean had no intention of giving up. His big brother's commitment and confidence that they would continue until the threat no longer existed offered him the security he so desperately needed.
Dean secured the weapons in the trunk and suavely slid back into his baby, its black leather seats now hot from the sun's overhead rays.
Just before joining him on the front seat, Sam heard a sound coming from his brother's side of the car. He suddenly motioned to get his brother's attention.
Dean glanced over when Sam didn't enter the car. The youngest hunter's finger was up to his lips gesturing for his brother to be silent. Dean froze, his heart thumped loudly in his chest as he went on full alert. He searched his baby brother's eyes to determine whether he should attempt to make it to the trunk for a weapon.
The oldest sibling could tell Sam was listening, but to what? He glanced worriedly around the car trying to detect whatever it was that had put his little brother on alert. His eyes returned to Sam's.
"Hear it?" Sam questioned as softly as he could.
Dean shook his head and formed the word "what?" on his lips without making a sound.
"Your stomach, dude." A huge smile swept across Sam's face as he broke out laughing in his typical high pitched, Sammy kind of way. "I can't believe you missed it. I could hear it growling all the way over here," he jested, "... Remind me never to be on a stake out with you when you're hungry, man!" Truth was, his older brother's dependency on food had always amused Sam. The guy couldn't go more than a few hours without some major refueling. He pointed to his brother's face and continued laughing, "Man, your face! Dean, you should have seen your eyes pop out of your head!" He had enjoyed watching his brother fall so easily into his prank. It was a rare moment when he could truly catch Dean unaware. He knew he might be initiating all kinds of trouble for himself in the future; his big brother was never one to let a prank go by unchallenged. Still, Sam had decided it was worth the risk.
"Smart ass," Dean gruffed at his little brother, "That is so not cool!"
After settling down a bit, Sam began to feel kind of badly that Dean had actually taken him so seriously. Maybe with all that was going on, his timing hadn't been the best. Sam couldn't help but notice that even with all Dean's bravado earlier about Sam being safe and the vision not happening, it was obvious by his reaction to the prank, that he was clearly more fearful than he was letting on.
Sam relented. "Sorry, man," he offered as he slid onto the passenger seat. "Didn't mean to really scare you."
"I wasn't scared…." Dean paused… "much."
"Yeah, sure," Sam offered relieved that his bother wasn't ticked. "How hungry are you?"
Dean's stomach answered and Sam couldn't help but break into another round of laughter. Sam's laugh was rare these days and Dean had to admit it was good to know he still knew how.
"What?" Dean questioned embarrassingly, starting the engine and turning up the cassette player trying to drown out the chorus that was beginning to well up inside his stomach. "I can't help it! If I don't eat soon, my stomach's gonna start growling ' Creeping Death'!"
Dean's words did exactly what they were supposed to do, get a rise out of Sam.
"God help me." Sammy moaned back. "Metallica in stereo is more than I can handle, more than anyone should have to handle for that matter."
Truth was, if Sam were willing to admit it, his brother's music was beginning to grow on him, no maybe more like become tolerable to him.
Dean rolled his eyes trying hard not to play into his brother's hand. In a way, he was glad his little brother lighten up for a brief moment, even if it had been at his expense.
"Maybe we should hit the diner in town again before we head west." He glanced over to Sam who seemed agreeable. "I'll treat," he offered, "even if you really don't deserve it," he added with his classic crooked smile. "Maybe I'll buy you dessert if you're good!"
Dean got the response he was looking for as a half smile once again graced his little brother's face.
Sam couldn't resist testing the limits.
"Are you gonna play sheriff again? Cuz I don't think I could take another meal with you protecting me, especially from a vicious lunchtime crowd."
"Cute," Dean replied annoyingly. "Very cute- Nice change, by the way," he added. "I'm usually the cute one," he chuckled. "Oh, and Sam, definitely no dessert for you!"
They entered the diner just towards the end of the lunch time crowd. Dean blessed the pretty young waitress that had seated them for breakfast with his irresistible smile.
She smiled sweetly, not drawn in by his attempt at charm and sarcastically replied, "Same table as this morning?"
Dean snorted softly, shifting uncomfortably, aware of his brother's pleasure at seeing him crash and burn. He gestured at Sam who was innocently standing beside him amused that Dean's magic seemed to have no affect her. "Actually, he loved breakfast so much that he wanted to come back for seconds."
Sam looked at his brother in surprise wondering how the heck the situation had ended up turning on him when he had said or done nothing.
In the end, both boys sheepishly took their seats, placed their orders, and began to plan their next few stops. The humor that had been enjoyed earlier quickly dissipated as the seriousness of their situation returned to them. Dean tried as best he could to honor Sam by not playing the "sheriff" but it was impossible. His little brother was in trouble and there was no way in heck that he would take a lunch break. He resigned to look at Sam whenever his brother glanced up and took every other opportunity when Sam wasn't looking to scan the crowd for possible threats.
Sam, fully in tune with Dean, knew exactly what Dean was doing but decided not to make a big deal out of it. If it put Dean's mind at ease, then he was willing to oblige. He did feel sorry for the waiter when he tried to bring Sam an extra knife after his had accidentally dropped, clanging noisily on the hard diner floor. The poor guy had no clue when Dean grabbed his arm and forcefully removed the knife from him. Sadly, the waiter had left shortly after and Sam couldn't help but wonder if the reason was to dry off. While Dean's constant vigil was appreciated, it was a constant reminder to Sam of his oncoming doom and as the meal progressed, Sam's demeanor slowly declined.
Feeling sorry for the kid, Dean relented and bought Sam dessert. (Yeah, alright, his little brother had pulled out the puppy eyes and hinted that dessert would make him feel better.) Dean hated to admit it, but he was a sucker when it came to Sammy, always was, always would be. Sam knew it and used his little brother advantage whenever the situation allowed, especially for dessert.
It wasn't long before they were back on the road again, this time deciding to head north instead of west for whatever reason, neither one was sure, but north it was, mutually agreed upon.
A black truck slowly pulled out shortly after the Impala left town. The driver slowly caressed the smooth silver weapon strategically placed on the front seat beside him. A slow tingle traveled along the spine of the old hunter as he initiated the hunt and anticipated its conclusion. He had chosen his prey and he knew its protector. He had chosen the location and the weapons needed to bring it to its demise. It was now only a question of when. He would silently, carefully watch and wait until the opportunity presented itself. Based on the direction the boys were heading, the when was soon, very soon.