Even though Dean could start to feel the familiar rush of excitement and adrenaline that always accompanied a hunt, he was nervous. This would be the first one that he would be going on since the disastrous one right after Jim's death, that had resulted in him getting those bruises that had launched their entire nightmare with Caleb and the courts.
Also, it was hard to feel excited when he knew how vastly different this job promised to be. It was one thing to go into a hunt with no expectations other than to defeat whatever spirit was terrorizing the family, and move on. It was quite another when he expected himself to be at the top of his game so he wouldn't give whatever demon or spirit who was terrorizing the kids, another chance to make a dent on his body. The last thing he or Sam needed was another reason for CPS to take them away. This time from Bobby, and he knew what their destination would be after that: the foster care system where they could easily be separated by the of people who didn't understand how essential it was they be together.
And he was nervous about allowing Sam to accompany them on this hunt. It was one thing for his brother to go on simple salt and burn cases with a low fatality rate, but it was quite another when he was brutally reminded of how many kids had died from this spirit or demonic entity singling them out because they had been "bad." The idea that he would be letting Sam walk directly into the line of fire was something that he couldn't quite wrap his mind around, and he tried to distract it by taking apart their array of shotguns for cleaning. It was a task that he could perform in his sleep without an issue, but it was something that would get his mind off the pressing concerns that he had for this job.
As he furiously scrubbed an arm across his eyes when he could feel the onslaught of approaching tears, he tried not to think about Caleb, and how he should have been on this case with them. He had been the one to start working with Sam, had been the one to teach Sam some of the more rudimentary safety skills that most of them already knew by heart.
He should have been there. But he wasn't, and that was hard for Dean to accept, especially when cases like this happened. Bobby was supposed to go see him after the job was over, and while he would have given his right arm to be allowed to go back to Minnesota for the visit, he tried to calm himself with the knowledge that if Caleb approved it, he would be allowed to go next time.
"Hey, kiddo."
"Hey," Dean said, as he lifted his head briefly to acknowledge Bobby's presence. The older hunter's friend, Rufus, had been the one to alert them to the fact that there was even a case at all in Sioux Falls. "Where's Sam?"
"He's getting ready to go. Since this one is local, there isn't a lot we need to take."
"Just the weapon bag," Dean said, as he finished cleaning the last of the guns, and put them in the travel duffel they so often used for occasions like that, "and the clothes on our backs."
"That's right. Are you okay to do this?" he asked, no doubt sensing how anxious Dean was about doing the job, especially when he knew that Dean preferred having Caleb go with him.
"Yeah. I'm just nervous about Sam going. This spirit or whatever it is, sounds like it only wants to go after the kids. I'm just freaked something will happen."
"We won't let it," Bobby assured him. "Sam knows to stick close to us when we're out there, and I don't doubt that he'll listen to that rule."
Sam could be incredibly stubborn at times, especially against orders that he didn't like or understand. It was something that had gotten him in trouble many times over the last several years. Ever since Caleb began working with him, he had been slower to directly disobey orders. Dean didn't blame him. The knowledge of the fact that his family hunted evil had scared him greatly, especially when so much happened right after that.
"I hope so," Dean said, as he stood up to stretch out the kinks in his back that sitting for so long had produced. "It's just..." he said, hesitating as he shrugged on his coat. "Isn't there anyone else that can take on this job?"
"Yeah," Bobby conceded, "there are, but I think it would do you some good to get out of the house for a few hours. Busy your mind with something that doesn't involve Caleb or where he's at."
"You just kind of blew the lid on that one," Dean joked weakly, trying not to let Bobby see how greatly his words had affected him.
"You know what I mean," Bobby said softly. "It will be good for you to be distracted with blowing apart some sorry spirit."
"Yeah," Dean said, shrugging, as he looped his backpack over his shoulder.
Dean couldn't argue with that logic. it would be good for him to find something to do that would serve to eliminate the pain. At least momentarily, and help him forget the impossible situation that Caleb had found himself in.
"So are you about ready to shove off?" Bobby asked, gathering some of the research they would take with them for reference. "We just have to get Sammy."
"Yeah, I'm good," Dean said. "Does he know what to do?"
In a situation like that, it was essential for Sam to know what cues to follow, and when to stay back from the line of duty when they were on the field. It would be something that would challenge his self-control, but it was something that would also save his life.
"He does. I grilled him on all the requisites he's supposed to do when we go out. Mainly, the number one rule, is to not be too trigger happy, especially when we don't know what we're dealin' with quite yet."
"Right. It could be anything. Spirit, demon."
"And we'll know more when we actually get there," Bobby said.
"How far is the town?"
"Only a few minutes drive."
"Sweet."
Since the job was local, it eased some of the uncertainty from Dean's mind when he knew that if anything unforeseen happened, all they had to do was retreat to the safety and privacy of the safe house to lick their wounds. Especially when he knew they would have precious cargo in tow with them.
"If anything starts to look like it might go wrong," Bobby said, as though he was reading Dean's mind. "We'll make a break for it, and come back here."
"Promise?" Dean pressed, his green eyes begging for the promise that if anything were to happen, they would be able to get Sam out of danger.
"I promise, idjit."
There was no way that Bobby would risk the boy's lives for a job, even if it was one that required their help. There were other hunters in the area who would be more than happy to take it on, and he recognized that, he just hoped something like a new hunt would get Dean's mind off the issues in their lives, and find a reason to be happy about something again.
"Hey," Sam said, as he skipped out of the bedroom with his Spiderman-themed backpack swinging off his shoulders as he bounced into the room, and sat down in between Dean and their newly appointed guardian.
"Hey, Sammy," Dean said, as he heaved a deep sigh, as he playfully shoved him. "You about ready to go and gank some nasty spirits?"
"Yes," Sam said, rolling his eyes as if it was a stupid question. "When are we going?"
"In a few minutes."
"Sam," Bobby said, leaning toward the nine-year-old. "I know we already talked about this, but I need to make sure that you'll listen to me when we go out."
"I will," Sam said without hesitation.
"Do you promise?" Dean pressed. "This is serious, Sam."
"I know, and I will!" Sam said, with a slight whine to his voice. "I promise."
"You have to listen to everything I say," Bobby warned. "You may not like what I tell you, but what I tell you could save your skin, boy. You have to have a tight hold over that part of you that may want to do the exact opposite, and realize that the adults know a little bit better than you do."
"I promise. I just want to go-"
"Not until we've established a few things."
"What now?" Sam challenged, rolling his eyes in a typical move when he was growing tired of a conversation, and just wanted it to be over. It was something that sometimes got him in trouble, and Dean knew that he was walking a thin line with Bobby, too.
"If I tell you not to shoot, if I tell you to stay by our side and not say a word, you'll do it?"
"Yes!"
"If I tell you to do something that you'll question, that you'll fight against-"
"Yes!"
"What if," Bobby said, glancing over at Dean as he spoke, knowing when Dean had first learned this lesson, it had been hard for him, too. "I tell you to run?"
That order got Sam's attention, as he looked at Bobby with his eyebrows raised in question. "Run?"
"Yes. What if the situation is looking pretty dicey, and myself or your brother is hurt, and I tell you to run to save yourself. Will you do it?"
Sam didn't answer right away. It had always been his experience to do the opposite, to never separate from his family for any reason, and what Bobby was ordering him to do, went against what Caleb had always taught him to do.
"Sam?" Dean prompted, dipping his head low to catch the gaze that his brother was avoiding giving he and Bobby. "We have to know if you'll be willing to follow our lead if we're going to take you out."
Dean didn't agree with all the rules that he had to abide by when he went out with the guys, but he knew that those rules weren't made to annoy him, they were made because they were the ones that had the highest success rate of keeping him alive. They would prove to do the same for his brother if he would be willing to listen.
"But," Sam said quietly, finally lifting his head to meet his brother's persistent gaze. "Caleb told us to never leave each other when we go out. He always told us to stay together."
"I know," Dean said, "but he also taught me when to realize when a fight couldn't be won, and this is kind of the same thing."
"Odds are, it won't happen," Bobby assured him, seeing how upset Sam was starting to become, "but I need to know if you will or not."
"Yes," Sam agreed quietly.
"Do you promise?" Bobby said gently.
"Yes!"
"Sam, chill," Dean said, shaking his head. "He's just trying to make sure you won't suddenly go rogue on our asses, and do whatever the hell you want to do."
"I won't. I already said that a thousand times."
But the problem was that Sam had a habitual problem of not following the orders given to him when he was tempted to do something else, and Dean hated to think about what would happen if Sam was given the order to run, and he hesitated. It could mean the difference between life and death.
"Yeah, but the problem is," Dean said, "you have a history of disobeying direct orders."
"That was before."
"Still. You've only seen salt and burns. What happens if we take you out on an actual job?"
"I already told you I would! What about you?" Sam said suddenly, as he turned his sole attention on his older brother.
"What about me?"
"Caleb told you to stay when we were pulled over, and then when the cop told us that they'd arrested him, we bolted!"
"That was completely different-"
"No, it wasn't!"
"Enough," Bobby interjected, when he saw the two about to erupt at each other. "Sam, do you promise to follow my lead throughout this entire job?"
"Yes."
"Okay, thank you."
Even though Bobby had doubts Sam would be able to pull it off perfectly, it would have to do for now. They couldn't spend the entire afternoon interrogating him when they had only a few hours until nightfall, and that was their agreed upon quit time for the day.
"Can we go now?" Sam asked, already rising to his feet in anticipation of going on his first real job.
"Yes."
It was nearing sundown when they arrived in the small town of Yankton, a few minutes from the safe house. It was a relief to Dean that they would be close in case anything happened to one of them. Even though the town was so close, and had been rocked by so many brutal murders of their kids, the case had been completely off their radar until Rufus brought it to their attention.
"Which one do we hit first?" Dean wondered, looking around at all the neatly manicured lawns, as he tried to imagine being in any of their shoes, having to experience the pain and shock of putting your kid to bed one night, and then waking up the next morning and discovering them dead.
"Closest one," Bobby replied, as he kept his eyes on the address book on his lap, and the houses in front of him, as he mentally calculated the distance between each of the homes that had been hit so far.
"Which is right here, right?" Dean asked, as he pointed to one a few houses down.
"Yes."
Feeling his heart race the same way it did whenever he was about to interview a grieving family, he tried to control that feeling as he scrubbed a hand over his face, as he kept his hand on the seatbelt, ready to release it the second they parked.
"Can I go in?" Sam asked, when they had pulled into the driveway of the Spanish-style home.
"Yes," Bobby said, as he turned around in his seat to look back at the eager nine-year-old, "but you follow my lead, okay?"
"I know."
"And mine," Dean added defensively.
"And his," Bobby added, shaking his head in amusement.
"What's our cover?" Dean asked, as they started walking up to the front door.
"Uncle," Bobby said pointing to himself, "and you brats are my nephews."
"Not a big stretch," Dean said with a shrug, as he shared secretive grins with Sam. "Sam, not a word unless Bobby signals you, okay?"
"Okay."
The woman that answered the door was the mother of the child that had been found murdered in his bed. Leading them into the formal sitting room, she dabbed at her eyes while she regarded them with guarded curiosity.
"I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude," she apologized, "but who are you people?"
"I'm sorry," Bobby said, "my name is Steven Singer, and these are my two nephews, Sam and Dean. They went to the same school your son went to, and we just wanted to know if there was anything we could do to offer our support to you during this time?"
"No, no, there's nothing-" her breath caught in her throat, a small sob escaping from between clenched teeth. "My son is dead-"
"How did you find him?"
"What do you mean-"
"Just," Bobby said calmly. "Just please answer, it matters."
"In his bedroom," she replied stiffly, as she forcibly sniffled back some of her tears. "I put him to bed the night before, and then when he didn't wake up for school, I went up there to get him."
Bobby nodded, trading tight looks with the boys. "How-how did you find him?" he asked, knowing that he was treading dangerous waters, as he searched her face for her reaction.
"In his bed. The sheets were soaked in blood, and there he was. My little boy, two holes in his neck."
"Two..._holes?" Dean ventured.
"Yes. I told the police what I saw, and what I thought, and they think I'm crazy," she said with a scoff. "But how could I make something like this up?"
"The way police think," Bobby said, shaking his head in disbelief. "They could be adding up one and one and coming up with ten. Their way of thinking isn't always logical."
"Yeah, I guess."
"I'm sorry for asking, but before your son went to bed, had he had been misbehaving?"
The woman looked at him as though he completely lost his mind, but it was the million dollar question that would sew this case together along with all the others in the area. As he waited patiently for her to get the courage to answer him, he looked back at the boys. Their expressions were unreadable, but he could see the way that both boys, Dean especially, was absorbing everything that was being said between the two, as they silently conversed together in the looks and head shakes they gave each other. It was the communication that only brothers could possess.
"Yes. Yes, he was grounded for stealing from the corner mart."
"So what's the theory?" Dean asked, as they left the woman's house a short time later.
They had made good on their self-imposed quitting time. The sun had barely set behind the trees, as they stepped into their car for the travel back to the safe house. Luckily for them, they didn't have to go far.
"Well, it looks like it could be a spirit," Bobby mused, "but some of what happened to the kid contradicts it."
"Unless the spirit wanted to play leech for a day," Dean said, putting his arm on the sill of the car window, as he looked out at the approaching darkness. "You think it could be something else?"
"Might be."
"Some of the forensic reports are included in the research that Rufus left. When we get back, we'll go through some more of that, and see if it matches up with what this vic had done to him."
"Okay."
"You know," Bobby said, as he glanced at Dean, and then back at Sam. "Caleb would be so proud of you boys for tonight. You handled it like pros, and good job, Sam, for listening."
"Thanks," Dean whispered, batting away fresh tears, as he used his hand to wipe them away.
"See?" Sam said, childishly sticking his tongue out. "I told you I could listen."
"Well, who knew you would decide this would be the night you told the truth," Dean said, rolling his eyes. "When are we going to be there?"
"Soon."
