Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, -sigh- If only.

Three Brothers

Chapter 3

"Oh! Forty-five bottles of beer on the wall! Forty-five bottles of beer! You take one down, pass it around, forty-four bottles of beer on the wall!" Jacob hollered from the back seat of the Impala. His hands, still tied behind his back, had gone numb about an hour ago, and he had been bored to death for far longer than that. So he had taken to annoying his brothers until they let him go, or he found something better to do. But right now, staring out the window was not considered something better.

"C'mon, Dean!" the teenager shouted joyously, leaning up as far as his seatbelt could allow. "Forty-four bottles of beer on the wall-" Jake stopped singing when the car screeched to a sudden halt, roughly throwing him forward. The seatbelt almost strangled him as he crashed headfirst into the seat in front of him, since he was unable to use his hands. He was left coughing for breath as the Impala finally stopped.

Dean spun around, glaring spitefully at his younger brother. "Stop singing," he said, his voice deathly calm.

"Untie me and let me go," Jacob countered, his voice sounding scratchy from his near strangling.

"I don't think so," Dean growled and turned back around, throwing the car back into gear and pulling onto the road. He muttered angrily under his breath and reached over to turn the radio up. ACDC blared out at him and he relaxed slightly, letting the rock n' roll tune out his annoying brother.

"Dean, maybe you should just untie him," Sam groaned from the passenger seat. His eyes flickered open and he turned to his older brother. "So maybe I can get some sleep."

"No," Dean muttered, wincing as Jacob started singing another verse. "He's annoyin' the hell out of me, Sam."

Sam snorted and glanced back at Jake – who was still shouting at the top of his lungs – before shaking his head. "Yeah, me too, but he might shut up if we untie his hands."

"No way. You know if we untie him he'll get away in ten minutes flat. He's always been too good at that." Sam glared at him and Dean added, almost as an after thought, "I'll untie him when we get to the hotel."

"Forty-one bottles of beer on the wall!"

"Maybe," Dean grunted, turning the radio up louder.

Sam winced, rubbing a hand across his face. He had been trying to sleep for the past hour and a half but had been unable to, thanks to a certain someone. "How much longer until we get to the hotel, anyway?" he asked, hoping it was close. He wasn't sure how much more he could take.

"Take one down, pass it around!"

Dean growled and threw the wheel to the right, making a sharp turn into a run down looking motel. "Now," he announced with a snarl. The eldest Winchester pulled the car to a stop at the front office and kicked his door open, before disappearing inside the Ocean Blue's motel.

Jacob blinked at Dean's sudden departure, and a smile slid across his face. "I can still annoy him to death … cool."

"I wouldn't say cool if I were you," Sam mumbled, opening his door and stepping out into the frigid night air. It was definitely a Colorado winter. He shivered and opened the back door of the Impala and unhooked Jacob's seatbelt, since his brother couldn't do it himself. He then grabbed one of Jake's bound arms and pulled his smaller frame out of the car. "Stay there," he ordered, glaring momentarily.

Jake sneered at him, and made a face as his brother turned his back to reach into the car. "And what if I ran?" the youngest Winchester asked, looking around the deserted parking lot. If he got into the dark, he was almost sure he could get away.

"I'd track you down and then hand you over to Dean," Sam answered quietly, without even looking at his brother.

"Check," Jacob muttered, all thoughts of escaping erased from his mind. "Damn, it's cold." He shivered in his t-shirt, wishing that he could at least rub his arms together to warm up. Sam came back out of the car with three duffle bags slung over his shoulders, just as Dean appeared out of the motel office.

He locked the car and jerked his head to Sam and Jacob. "Room 28," he grunted. The Winchester boys entered their room and Dean sighed loudly. "Ah, home sweet home!"

"Yeah, the roach motel," Jacob commented sourly, standing in the middle of the room with his hands still tied behind his back. "Can you get this thing off me," he whined at Dean as he spun around to face his older brother.

Dean appeared to ponder the question before saying, "Nah, they look good on you." He flopped into one of the two single beds and stretched his arms out, kicking off his clunky combat boots. "I'll take em' off tomorrow."

Sam looked up from his laptop long enough to glare at Dean. The two older brothers had a glaring match and, after a few moments, Sam backed down. Dean celebrated his victory by grinning and punching his fist in the air.

Jacob sighed. Thanks a lot, Sam. You're a real life saver. He looked around the room, searching for a place that he could sleep. Nothing really looked that appealing. There were only two beds, and he was sure that those belonged to his brothers. Jacob slowly turned his head towards the back of the room and spotted a small, red couch beside the bathroom door. Bingo. The teenager walked unsteadily towards it, blinking his tired eyes furiously to clear his vision. He was so exhausted.

The youngest Winchester stared down at the couch for a moment, wrinkling his nose in distaste. The piece of furniture was old and ratty looking, and there was a sort of moldy smell about it. Well, it's either this or the floor. Jacob sighed and fell awkwardly onto the couch, landing on his stomach with his bound hands sticking up in the air. The sandy haired boy groaned as the muscles in his shoulders and arms screamed in protest of their rough treatment. I'm gonna be so sore tomorrow. Thank you Dean.

Jacob lifted his head up a bit, glancing around the dim room. He could see Dean laying on his back on the bed, apparently asleep, his hands placed behind his head. Sam was over at the small table, his face lit up by the glow of his laptop screen.

"Hey, Sam," he called quietly, hoping not to disturb Dean. Sam looked up. "Is there any chance of you, maybe, you know, untying me?" Jake wiggled his hands weakly as if to emphasize his point.

Sam's eyebrows drew together, and he stood up. "Sure, Jake, I-"

"Sammy," Dean growled, not opening his eyes. "Sid'down. Those are staying on."

"Oh, c'mon!" Jacob protested, trying, and failing, to prop himself up and glare at his brother. "You kidnapped me! The least you can do is make me comfortable while you're doing it."

Dean opened one eye and smirked slightly. "I thought we established that it wasn't kidnapping when it's family?" he asked jokingly. Before Jacob could answer, he added, "And you annoyed me, in my own car. Think of this as punishment."

Jacob scowled at his older brother, clenching his jaw tightly. There he goes sounding like Dad again. He looked over at Sam, but he only sent him an apologetic glance and sat back down. "Asshole," the teen muttered, glaring at the floor. Dean only chuckled in response.

"Night," Dean said quietly, before closing both of his eyes and rolling onto his side.

Jake grumbled under his breath, his sense of helplessness making his blood boil. He hated getting stuck in these positions. When he was younger, it seemed that any time he and his family ran into something dangerous, he would become the 'damsel in distress.' I can't count how many times I've been knocked out or taken hostage, he thought, still glaring at the floor. Dean used to tease him about it, calling him 'their modern-day Daphne.'

The teenager scoffed. Ok, I thought I got over this a long time ago. He took a deep breath, and let it out in a long sigh. Well, I am captured at the moment. Brings back lovely memories. He rolled painfully onto his side, eyes straying to the small window on the far wall. Jacob couldn't really blame his brothers for tying him up. If they hadn't, he probably would have bailed by now and been halfway back to home.

But, I can't really do that now. He frowned, looking over at Sam. I don't know why but, my brothers need me and … I have to help them. We'll find Dad, and then I'll go back to my normal life. Jacob nodded firmly, silently making a promise to himself. He closed his eyes and settled in for a very uncomfortable night of sleep.

I just hope tomorrow is better than today has been.

--

"Wakey, wakey! Time to get up, short man!" The loud voice jolted Jacob from blessed sleep and he jerked awake, trying to leap to his feet, but without the use of his hands, he only ended up falling face first off the couch.

Jacob groaned, blinking stars from his vision as someone cut the tie around his hands. He looked up, unsurprised to see a smiling Dean. "Did you … ugh, have to do that?" Jake asked, slowly rubbing his chaffed wrists. The skin was tender to the touch, but it could not compare to the fiery pains raging through his shoulders and arms. This reminds me of the time Dad made us to pull ups and push ups all day as punishment for fighting. He cracked a small grin at the memory. We couldn't lift our hands over our heads for a week.

"Yeah, I did," Dean said, grabbing his brother's sore arm and pulling him to his feet. "Now, c'mon, Sammy's waiting for us."

"Dean, where are we going?" Jacob grumbled, yanking his arm out of his brother's grip. "Can't I just go back and sleep?" he said, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. Jacob had never been an early bird. Out of his entire family, he was the only one who took a good twenty minutes to fully wake up. And, he wouldn't have minded taking a shower either. He was still dressed in his clothes from the day before. Hopefully I don't stink.

"No," Dean said cheerfully, as he led his younger brother across the street. "The early bird catches the worm."

Jacob stared at him and rolled his eyes. "Sure, 'cause we all love catching worms," he mumbled, scowling at the ground. He kicked a chunk of gravel and watched as it skittered across the pavement. The teenager raised his eyes from the gravel and looked up at the building they were steadily walking towards. "Aw, man, you aren't serious!"

It was a diner. Jacob hated diners.

Dean laughed, slapping his brother on the shoulder. "C'mon, Jake, it's not that bad. You really need to get over your fear of diners," he said, grinning widely.

"My fear is completely justified," Jacob muttered, crossing his arms over his chest. "Remember the last diner I went to, when I got hit on by that transvestite?" He shivered momentarily. "I'd like to see you get over that."

Dean chuckled at the memory, slinging his arm over his brother's shoulder. "Dude, chill, it's just breakfast. And, if you remember correctly, that wasn't a diner, it was a bar slash diner."

"Oh, thanks," Jacob said sarcastically. "That makes me feel loads better." He hesitated outside the door, but after hearing Dean's impatient huff, he slowly edged his way inside.

Sam was sitting alone in a booth seat, in the back corner and, as usual, he had his laptop out and a cup of steaming coffee at his elbow. Dean and Jacob slid into the seat across from him just as the waitress came up to their table. She appeared to be in her late forties, with messy auburn hair pulled up into a tight bun.

"What can I get you boys this morning?" she asked, her voice sounding a bit rough, hinting that she might have been a smoker, or still was.

"I'll have the house special," Dean said cheerfully, rubbing his hands together at the thought of eggs, bacon and hash browns. "With white toast."

The woman nodded, scribbling down his order on her notepad. She looked up at Sam and he said, without glancing away from the computer screen, "I'll just have coffee, thanks." She nodded, looking lastly at Jacob.

The teenager rubbed a hand through his sandy hair and sighed. Ugh, I hate breakfast. Ever since he was a kid, he could never eat breakfast. It usually made him feel sick to his stomach. "Uh, I'll have the … cheese omelet." He finally decided, grimacing a bit at the thought of eating so early.

"Alright, I'll have your orders out soon." The woman collected their menus and walked away without another word.

Dean leaned back in the booth seat and took a sip of his orange juice. "So, Sammy, what'd you find out?"

Sam glanced up at him and turned the laptop screen around. It showed the front page of a newspaper dubbed the Montrose Times. "There's been a couple deaths in this town. All children, all under the age of twelve, and all in the same spot." He pointed to the picture of a small, brick building. "Joe's Pizza and Go-karts."

Even under the circumstances, Jacob snorted quietly. "A pizza joint?" he asked incredulously, looking over at Dean. "I guess all the good killing spots are taken." His older brother spared him quick smile, before Sam continued.

"The building used to be an old, town courthouse, until it was condemned for a few years." Sam sent a short glare in Jacob's direction and he shrugged innocently. "Then they renovated it a bit and now, well, you know."

"Vengeful spirit?" Dean stated, his expression clearly serious.

"That's my guess," Sam answered, shutting the laptop as their waitress came up with their food. She set the plates down and disappeared in the direction of the kitchen. Dean immediately dug in, while Jacob stared down at his food, making a queasy face. "Probably one of the people tried in the court," Sam added.

"Or it could be one of those medium-wage workers with a grudge," Jacob said sarcastically, still eyeing his food. He looked up. "Maybe it's not even anything supernatural."

Sam considered his words before shrugging. "Whatever it is, we're gonna take it down," he said simply.

Dean grunted in agreement, his mouth stuffed full of eggs and bacon. Jacob's stomach clenched. Yeah, I forgot how disgusting he is when he eats. He reached over and drank some of his water, quieting his rolling stomach.

"Hey, Sam," Jake said, drawing his brother's attention. "You want this?" He pointed at his plate.

"But you didn't even ea-"

"I'm not hungry," Jacob mumbled, sliding the plate across the table before Sam could argue. He propped his head up on his hand, leaning his elbow on the tabletop. How can I eat when there's a demon after us, we're going to find Dad, and I'm in a diner?! The youngest Winchester sighed quietly, running a hand through his spiky, brown hair. And this is why I left in the first place. I just can't handle all this stress.

He could hear his older brothers quietly talking about their game plan, but he didn't listen. It sounded like they were going to be FBI again. Jake rolled his eyes. I haven't pretended to be in the FBI for a long time.

He let his eyes stray around the diner, searching for anything amusing to look at. The teenager saw their waitress talking to the chef through a small window to the kitchen. There were a couple of truck drivers lounging on the stools by the bar, sipping coffee. By the entrance, a man was paying for his breakfast. As Jacob's gaze landed on him, the man turned around and smiled lightly. Jacob held his stare, frowning in confusion.

What's this dude's problem? The teenager wondered, refusing to look away from the odd man's gaze. As if sensing his thoughts, the man's grinned widened and his eyes changed from light brown to a deep, black color.

Jacob gasped, his entire body instinctively coiling in preparation to leap up. Is that a-? He blinked, and the man's eyes were back to normal. He nodded at Jake and sauntered slowly out the door, the bell jingling merrily behind him.

Jacob's breaths came in quiet pants as he watched the man leave, his hands clenched beneath the table. Did I just see that? He wasn't sure. If that really was a demon, wouldn't it have come after them by now? Or is it just bidding its time? He looked back at his brothers, but they were still deep in conversation. Obviously they hadn't seen what Jake thought he saw.

The youngest Winchester waited for several minutes, expecting to see the demon burst back into the diner, screaming in rage. But, nothing happened. Slowly, Jake let his body relax and he sagged back against the booth seat. I guess … I think I'm just seeing stuff. That was probably just my imagination running crazy. He looked back in the direction the man had left in, swallowing nervously. At least, I hope so.

ML: I am so, so, so, so sorry for the wait! For those of you who held out for this, I truly am sorry. I got caught up with real life and haven't really been around to work on this. I'll try my best to make the next chapter faster. Thank you for waiting, readers.