Good morning everyone. I hope you're having a wonderful day so far. If not... I'm in the same boat.

Friday, September 19th, 2008

Pontiac, Illinois

Again, Dean found himself trying to keep his mind empty as he watched the miles pass by. The only difference was this time have the task of driving to keep him distracted. He tried to convince Bobby to let him take a shift driving, but the older hunter was having none of it. Not only had Dean already made that trip in the opposite direction, but he also just came back from the dead. He deserved to rest. Dean had a feeling he'd be hearing that a lot from Bobby and Sam once they reunited with him.

In all actuality, Dean felt less rested and relaxed than he probably would have if he drove. When his entire train of thought wasn't focused on thinking about the vision he had in the bathroom, it was on the pain he felt across his body. His head was still pounding despite taking aspirin and drinking water. His back and the very core of his chest ached sharply. He was still swelteringly hot despite the air conditioning and his skin was hot to the touch.

The only place that didn't feel hot was – ironically enough – the burn mark on his shoulder. That was numb, or at least he couldn't feel the fabric of his t-shirt on top of it. He was tempted to touch it again just to see if he could feel it, but then he remembered what he wasn't supposed to be thinking about and all thoughts of touching the burn got pushed aside.

Despite his discomfort and the stress, he was unrelentingly putting on himself, Dean did manage to drift off a few times. At least, he thought he did. He couldn't remember falling asleep, but he kept startling himself to find that the scenery outside the car had suddenly changed on him. It wasn't dramatic, but he had no memory of the time between traveling between point x on the highway to point y, so he had to have fallen asleep. It didn't help anything, but it didn't cause him to have another vision either, so he'd take what he could get.

They arrived back in Pontiac both sooner and later than Dean expected. The layer of darkness that had settled over the town left nothing feeling familiar. As far as Dean could tell, they were in a different part of town altogether, which would explain why he hadn't spotted Sam or Baby when he was wandering the streets before.

Outside of the motel, bright neon lights vertically spelled out the word "Astoria." The place was rough-looking and in what seemed to be the sketchier part of town – exactly the kind of place that the Winchesters frequented. That was enough to tell Dean with certainty that Sam would be inside.

Parking out front and heading inside, Dean was expecting to just exchange two words with the clerk before getting Sam's room number and going on their way. That changed when he caught sight of her. She was a pretty girl; indistinguishable in race with tan skin, short brown hair, and brown eyes, but surprisingly that wasn't what caught Dean's attention. No, it was the nametag clipped to her white polo shirt. On it, in big, blocky, black letters, was written the name Skye.

"Son of a bitch."

"What?"

"That's the girl," Dean said, gesturing over to her. "That's the girl from the gas station." Bobby locked eyes on the girl behind the desk and began scrutinizing her ruthlessly. She didn't notice; was too absorbed in whatever it was she was reading.

"You sure?" he asked. "She doesn't look like much."

"Trust me," Dean said. "I know."

Dean marched right up to the counter; an intense, dark look fixed upon the girl. It couldn't be a coincidence that she just happened to also work at the same motel Sam was staying at. It just couldn't be. Setting his hands on the counter, he cleared his throat to get her attention, but she didn't look up.

"I'll be with you in a moment, sir," was all she said. Frowning, he decided to try something else.

"Christo." The girl was completely non-pulsed by the invocation, still not bothering to look up from her reading.

"You should really do something about that head cold," she said. "It sounds nasty."

At least I can rule out demon again, he thought. Fuck it, no more beating around the bush.

"What are you doing here?" Finally, Skye pulled her face up from the stapled-together packet she was reading. She made a mark next to the end of a paragraph in blue ink and pushed her hair out of her face.

"I work here," she said.

"You work here," Dean said. "And at the gas station?"

"It's a tough economy," she shrugged. "I'll take whatever I can get."

"You really expect me to believe that?" Skye blinked.

"Uh, yeah," she said. "Where have you been the past few months."

"Hell." Her bored expression didn't change.

"Haven't we all?" Dean's expression settled into a scowl, but Skye remained unphased. "So, I should take your sudden appearance here to mean that you're going to use the money you stole from me this morning to pay for a room for you and your gay lover here." She gestured over to Bobby. "How was that? Am I in the right ballpark?" Both Bobby and Dean shuddered in disgust.

"What, are you nuts?!" Dean exclaimed. "No!"

"Hey, there's no shame in it." Despite saying that, the smirk on Skye's face clearly showed she was enjoying this a little too much. "It's 2008. Gay marriage is legal in California now. Be loud, be proud, rejoice!"

"He's my nephew," Bobby said in his voice that left no room for messing around. "And we're here looking for my other nephew – his brother. You wouldn't be able to help us with that, would you?"

"Depends," Skye said, keeping her eyes laser-focused on Dean. "Am I getting back the money you took from me or do I need to call the cops?"

"No," he said. "I'm considering it repayment for your little murder attempt earlier." Skye's face fell.

"Murder attempt?" she questioned. "What are you talking about?"

"In the gas station," Dean said. "With that fucking ear-shattering noise." Skye continued to stare at him like he had five heads.

"What noise?" she said. "You just flipped out of nowhere and took money from the register. I had to tell my manager that we got robbed. I almost lost my job." She brought a hand up to the side of her head and grumbled, "and my left ear." Dean continued to stare her down, incredulous.

"That's not what…"

"Of course, my nephew will pay you back." Dean snapped his head around to glare at Bobby. "After all, it's the least he can do after all the trouble he caused you."

The pointed look he gave Dean showed that he wasn't kidding. Dean tried to silently plead with him, but Bobby remained steadfast. Skye raised an eyebrow expectantly and with much chagrin, Dean fished the money out of his pocket. The much-too-pleased smirk made a reappearance on the girl's face as he handed her the money.

"I'm sorry for the trouble I caused you." The strain in his voice didn't go unnoticed, but Skye smiled and nodded, nonetheless.

"Thank you," she said in the most patronizing tone possible. "I really appreciate it. I'm sure my manager will as well."

Dean so desperately wanted to snap at her. It wasn't about the money. He could care less about that. He just didn't like her insinuating that he was crazy and didn't know what happened. The only thing that stopped him was Bobby speaking up.

"Now that's out of the way, could you tell us what room my other nephew is in?"

"Oh," Skye said, her head snapping to attention. "Right, almost forgot. What's his name?"

"George McFly." Skye let out a cackle at Dean's answer.

"You can't be serious." Of course, he was. Marty would be too obvious. When he didn't say any more, Skye shook her head and turned to the aging computer monitor sitting on the counter. "Okay then. Let me see what we have in our records."

The task took longer than Dean felt it should have. It seemed she was just uselessly clicking and typing rather than doing anything. He thought she was just putting them on when her face suddenly grew grim, and she sucked in the corner of her mouth.

"What?" he asked, dread growing in his chest.

"Uh, it seems we do have someone staying here under that name but…"

"But…?" Bobby implored.

"It looks like this booking has been flagged."

"Flagged?" Bobby questioned. "What, was the credit card declined?"

"No," Skye was quick to say. "They paid for five nights in advance with cash. Uh, in this system 'flagged' seems to mean that someone put in a note or concern. I'm looking at it right now and… Oh…"

"What does it say?" To her credit, Skye managed to look up at Dean sympathetically.

"'Look out for Sid and Nancy.'" She looked back and forth between the two men pensively. "That doesn't sound like your boy, does it?"

"No," Bobby said, astounded. "Not at all."

"What room number is that?" Bobby gave Dean a side eye, but Dean remained stoic.

"Room 207." Dean turned and started heading for the stairs with Bobby following him closely. Skye – unsurprisingly – scoffed. "You're welcome!" she called at their retreating backs.

"You don't really think that'd be Sam, right?" Bobby asked once they were out of earshot.

"I don't know," Dean said. "Did you really think she would call the cops?"

"Ain't worth it to risk it," Bobby defended.

"Yeah, well, this ain't worth the risk either." With that, Dean didn't have anything more to say. He just continued his march up the stairs, knowing he was going to find Sam in this building, but hoping he wouldn't be in Room 207.

Before they even got to the door, they could hear the music blasting from inside. Already, Dean could see what whoever left that note was talking about and it just made him more certain that Sam wasn't inside. Walking up to the door, he banged his fist against it, and it didn't take long for it to fly open. To say he was surprised by who opened the door would be an understatement.

It was a woman – a beautiful woman with long dark hair and dark eyes. Although she was scantily clad – white panties and a thin gray tank top that left nothing to the imagination – he wouldn't exactly describe her as being anything like Nancy Spungen. Except for maybe the slight look of annoyance that looked like it could easily devolve into violence, but a lot of women could pull that out without any real threat.

"So, where is it?" she asked. Dean and Bobby exchanged looks.

"Where's what?" Dean asked.

"The pizza that takes two guys to deliver?"

Right away various porn scenarios started popping into Dean's head and it honestly made him want to stay and try to find out what this girl's deal was. However, that was overridden by both his worry and relief for Sam's wellbeing. Sure, that meant he and Bobby would have to knock on every door in the hotel to find him, but at the same time at least he wasn't in the "Sid and Nancy" room. Easily, he smiled at the woman and said, "I think we got the wrong room."

For a second it looked like she was going to tell them off and slam the door in their faces, but she was cut off when a man walked out of the bathroom from behind her and started asking her something. He stopped in his tracks the second he caught sight of who was at the door. Dean felt like he'd gotten the wind knocked out of him because the man in question was his brother, Sam Winchester.

Despite his surprise, there was another undercurrent of relief that came with the sight. Sam looked good – better than he was expecting after hearing whatever the hotel's computer system had to say about them. He was in good health – not strung out or beaten to smithereens. He didn't appear to be drunk and looked every bit the same as he did when Dean had left him behind. (Well, he'd let his hair grow out a bit more, but he sure wasn't going to complain about that right now.) Even the girl was unharmed, so he couldn't really see what it was they were talking about with the whole "Sid and Nancy" spiel. Sure, the girl clearly had an attitude, but outside of that there was nothing that screamed "pinnacle of dysfunction." Mentally, Dean made a note to find out who had left that comment and teach them a thing or two about judging people.

At the same time Dean was taking stock of his brother, Sam was looking at him with a thousand unreadable emotions flashing through his eyes at the same time. That was understandable. He was bound to be confused by his older brother's sudden return from the dead. For a second Sam's eyes flashed back to Bobby as if looking for some form of confirmation. Then, he locked them back on to Dean's. Starting to become a little overwhelmed by emotion himself, the corners of Dean's lips raised a bit.

"Heya, Sammy."

Sam stayed where he was, breathing heavily. It didn't seem like he knew what to do, so Dean pushed past the girl at the door and started to approach him. It didn't occur to him that might be what Sam wanted him to do until it was too late.

From behind his back, Sam pulled out a knife and lunged at Dean. The girl screamed and jumped out of the way as Dean was pushed back into the wall. Automatically, Dean pushed against his brother, doing everything he could to keep the knife away from his face. Bobby got between them, wrapping his arms around the one Sam was holding the knife in and pulling him back. In seconds, the knife was knocked out of Sam's hand and Bobby had him restrained against his chest.

"Who are you?" Sam viciously demanded to know. Dean's face hardened.

"Like you didn't do this?" he shouted back.

"Do what?" Sam snapped. He continued to struggle against Bobby, desperate to get free and renew his assault on Dean. Luckily, Bobby wasn't so easy to shake off.

"It's him!" Bobby shouted to try to get the words through to Sam. "It's him, Sam! I've been through this already. It's really him." Slowly, Sam's resistance died down. He tried to catch his breath as the anger in his eyes faded into disbelief.

"What…?" he gasped out, still uncomprehending. Since Sam had calmed down enough that Bobby felt safe releasing his hold on him, Dean decided it would be okay to try taking a step closer again.

"I know," he said. "I look fantastic, huh?" The typical remark seemed to convinced Sam because when he moved towards Dean again, he wrapped his arms around him rather than attack him. Dean returned the hug, grateful to have the chance to hold his baby brother again. He heard Sam sniffle a little bit and readjusted his hold to grip his shoulder a little tighter.

After a minute they pulled back and the brothers eyed each other with looks of relief. Sam at Dean's apparent resurrection, and Dean that Sam was okay and healthy. Their moment was interrupted when Sam's apparent "friend" – who still had her back up against the door – spoke up.

"So, are you two, like, together?" Sam gave her a "what the hell is wrong with you" look for half a second before something clicked into place. Likely that he hadn't known this woman long enough to tell her that he had a brother – one that was supposed to be deceased. At least, that's what made sense.

"No, no," Sam insisted. "He's my brother." It was at that point that the girl had the decency to look uncomfortable.

"Oh," she stuttered. "Got it, I guess." She gestured out the door. "Look, I should probably go."

"Yeah, yeah," Sam agreed. "That's probably a good idea. Sorry."

Awkwardly, the girl finally moved away from her position at the door and started moving around the room to collect her clothes. Once the bathroom door shut behind her, Dean looked at Sam with raised eyebrows and an amused smirk. The question didn't need to be spoken aloud for Sam to be disgruntled by it.

"Don't," was all he had to say on the matter.

"What?" Dean said cracking a smile. "I didn't say anything."

"You didn't need to," Sam said. "I know exactly what's going through your head."

"Hey, I'm not judging," he said. "I just want to know how you convinced a girl like that to sleep with you." Used to his brother's taunting, he just rolled his eyes and moved to retrieve a button-up shirt from across the room.

"Good to see you haven't changed, Dean." Inside Dean, something faltered.

"Yeah," he said, his voice holding a little less conviction than he thought it probably should. "Me, too."

Minutes later, Sam was ushering the girl out of the room. He promised to call her again, but that clearly wasn't happening since he apparently had gotten her name wrong. Once she was out the door, Sam shut it behind him and turned back to Dean and Bobby. Dean watched with crossed arms and regarded Sam closely as he sat down on the ottoman and started pulling his shoes on. It seemed he wasn't in a hurry to fess up, so Dean was going to have to pull it out of him.

"So, tell me, what'd it cost?" Sam gave a dismissive laugh.

"I don't pay, Dean," he said. "And I already told you not to."

"That's not funny Sam." Dean made sure his seriousness came across in his tone. "To bring me back. What'd it cost? Was it just your soul or something worse?" Sam looked up at Dean with narrowed eyes.

"You think I made a deal?" he questioned.

"That's exactly what we think," Bobby made clear.

"Well, I didn't." Dean's face remained impassive.

"Don't lie to me." Sam met his eyes straight on.

"I'm not lying," he insisted. Dean wasn't having that. He uncrossed his arms and approached his brother.

"So, what, now I'm off the hook and you're on, is that it?" he asked. "You're some demon's bitch boy? I didn't wanna be saved like this." At that point, Sam stood up and faced his brother head-on.

"Look, Dean," he said. "I wish I had done it, all right?" Aggravated by the denials, Dean grabbed Sam by the front of his shirt and looked him dead in the eyes.

"There's no other way this could have gone down," Dean said. "Now, tell the truth." Sam pushed Dean off him.

"I tried everything," he growled out. "That's the truth. I tried opening the Devil's Gate, hell, I tried to bargain, Dean, but no demon would deal, alright?" Finally, the seriousness of Sam's words started sinking in. "You were rotting in Hell for months. For months, and I couldn't stop it. So, I'm sorry. It wasn't me, all right?" Slowly, the look in Sam's eyes softened. "Dean, I'm sorry."

A little taken aback but still understanding, Dean nodded.

"It's okay, Sammy," he said. "You don't have to apologize. I believe you." Despite the assurance, Sam still averted his gaze to the floor. Dean found himself doing the same.

"Don't get me wrong," Bobby finally cut in. "I am gladdened that Sam's soul remains intact, but it does raise a sticky question." A weird feeling rolled inside Dean; something that felt like anxiety mixed with something else. Something… Tragic…

"If he didn't pull me out, then what did?"

Saying it aloud didn't tamper down the feeling, but he wasn't expecting it to. Silence fell between the three of them. Eventually, Sam moved to get a few beers and Dean and Bobby took the opportunity to sit down.

"So," Dean said, finally breaking the silence as Sam passed him his beer. It probably wasn't a good idea to drink after spending most of the day suffering from dehydration, but Dean couldn't bring himself to care. He needed that beer. "So, what were you doing around here if you weren't digging me out of my grave?" Sam took a seat across from Dean.

"Well," he said. "Once I figured out I couldn't save you, um, I started hunting down Lilith, trying to get some pay back."

"All by yourself?" Bobby asked from where he was seated on the couch. "Who do you think you are, your old man?"

"Uh…" Sam looked down again. "Yeah, I'm sorry Bobby. I should have called. I was pretty messed up." That made Dean get up and pull something he noticed hanging off the dividing wall.

"Oh, yeah," he said, holding up the pink satin bra. "I really feel your pain there, Vicious." Sam's face scrunched in confusion.

"What?" Dean just shook his head as he took a seat in the chair next to him. Deciding to ignore the remark, Sam continued with what he was saying.

"Anyway," he said. "I was tracking these demons out in Tennessee and out of nowhere they took a left, booked it up here."

"When?" Dean asked.

"Yesterday morning," Sam said.

"When I busted out," Dean observed.

"You think these demons are here because of you?" Bobby asked. Dean tilted his head and shrugged.

"But why?" Sam asked.

"I don't know," Dean said. "But some bad ass demon drags me out, now this? It's gotta be connected somehow."

"How you feeling, anyway?" Bobby asked.

"I'm a little hungry," Dean tactfully avoided. He hadn't eaten since they left Sioux Falls, so it was still the truth.

"No, I mean, do you feel like yourself?" Dean forced himself to hold his breath until Bobby expanded further on what he meant. "Anything strange or different?" That's when he realized what he was getting at.

"Or demonic?" Bobby's head tilt told him all. Frustrated, Dean didn't hold back. "Bobby, how many times do I have to prove I'm me?"

"Yeah, well, listen," Bobby said. "No demon's letting you loose out of the goodness of their hearts. They gotta have something nasty planned."

"Well, I feel fine," Dean insisted.

"We don't know what they're planning," Sam cut in. "We got a pile of questions and no shovel. We need help." A few seconds of deliberation was all Bobby needed to come up with a resolution.

"I know a psychic a few hours from here," he suggested. "Something this big, maybe she's heard the other side talking."

"Hell yeah," Dean said. "It's worth a shot."

"I'll be right back," Bobby said before getting up and making his way to the door. At the same time, Dean stood, but Sam grabbed his attention.

"Hey, wait." He stood and started pulling at something around his neck. It only took a flash of gold for Dean to realize what he was doing. "You probably want this back."

Pulling the black fabric band over his head, Sam held out the amulet to Dean. Dean caught the charm in his hand as he looked at it. It looked just the same as he remembered, and he felt a tug at his heart when he realized that his brother had taken care to keep a piece of him with him. He was honestly touched, but his face wasn't great at showing it.

"Thanks." Sam understood, though, as he nodded back to his brother.

"Yeah," he said. "Don't mention it."

Without a word Dean slipped the necklace on back over his own neck. After a few seconds of silence, Sam felt it pertinent to ask Dean a question.

"Hey, Dean, what was it like?" Looking back up at Sam, Dean felt like a bucket of ice-cold water had been poured over him.

"What? Hell?" Sam stared at him, patiently waiting for the answer. Dean didn't let his malignant anxiety take over before he could answer. "I don't know. I must have blacked it out." Sam said nothing, just continued to look at with that expression that said that he knew there was more to it.

Damn it, Sam! I really don't want to have the "feelings" talk right now!

"I don't remember a damn thing," Dean insisted. That finally made Sam drop the look, resigning himself to buying it.

For now.

"Thank God for that," Sam remarked.

"Yeah," Dean agreed as the echoes of the screams of the damned reverberated though his skull.

On their way out the door, they had to pass by the front desk again. Skye was still there, her nose once again buried in the packet she was reviewing. Dean stopped and motioned for Sam to do the same as he pointed her out.

"Was that girl here when you checked in yesterday?" Sam frowned and shook his head.

"No," he said. "It was a guy who checked us in. Why?"

"And did you run into any of the other employees?" That only furthered Sam's confusion.

"No, we've stayed in the room since we got here," he said. "Why? What's going on?"

"Nothing." Dean shrugged as he shook his head. "It's just someone here seems to think your girlfriend is Nancy Spungen."

He started towards the door, ignoring Sam's flabbergasted expression and sharp intonation of "what?"

Thank you to And_Softheart and READINGREADER for the comments, and leafyqweenivy, And_Softheart, and the three guests who left kudos on AO3. Also, thank you to KHARAKI TAKAN for favoriting on FFN! It really means a lot!

To be clear, the person who checked Sam and Ruby into the hotel left that comment there, and the reason they made it was because they thought they looked like drug addicts. (Particularly Sam.) I just wanted to make that clear so you wouldn't think Skye was being cruel. She only told Dean and Bobby because she found it alarming.

If anyone has any suggestions for tags I can use on AO3, I'd really appreciate it. The only reason why my Stony fics are tagged so well is because I copied a bunch of tags off of a Stony fic rec list on tumblr and obviously that's not gonna work here. So if you have any ideas, let me know.

Remember kids, judgy people will be judgy. Don't let it get to you.

Originally published to FFN on 2/17/22.