Chapter 2
Hey everyone, I wrote this chapter after watching Family guy so I was inspired to have a little miscommunication, so I'm sorry if some one the spoken sentences don't make sense, they aren't supposed to. Remember, New Englanders down use their "r"s.
Sam had long since fallen asleep during the car ride to Sandwich, Massachusetts. Dean had chosen the location for a number of reasons, one being the obvious beauty of the place during the beginning of summer. The place had a big history, as Dean read in a brochure, yes, Dean read a brochure. Apparently it's the oldest town on the Cape, Sammy always liked that boring, geekboy stuff.
But, Dean mostly chose this place for the quiet. No supernatural activity that he could pick out, no abnormal deaths.Apart from some dude that had a stroke, at the wheel and crashed his boat into some pier, everything was fine dandy, and quaint in lil' ole' Sandwich.
Sam's tape ended so Dean turned on the radio, evidently there were no good radio stations this far from Boston, he suspected they'd reach the small town in maybe half an hour. He stole a glance at Sammy, his head was awkwardly nudged between the door and the seat and a tiny trail of drool was creeping out the corner of his mouth, Dean couldn't help but grin. His troubles just seemed to melt away when he saw how happy his brother was in the throws of sleep when he didn't have nightmares, visions, or when Dean didn't have a spoon handy.
Half an hour later
Dean had stopped the impala out front of a diner in Sandwich, he just couldn't get over that name. He gently punched Sam in the arm to wake him up. At first Sam just groaned and rolled over and away from Dean. "Jes gimme 5 mrrr minutes." He mumbled into his seat.
"C'mon princess, don't make me find a frog to kiss you awake, hey. Maybe it'll turn into Pam Anderson." Dean said with a smirk, raising his eyebrows at the thought.
That woke Sam up right away, in recent years, Sam had a little bit of a fear of Pamela Anderson, something to do with plastic surgery making her resemble a clown. Sa jumped up, slightly knocking Dean back, he wiped the dribble from his chin and fumbled with the door, desperately seeking an exit.
Dean took the keys from the ignition and followed suit, entering the diner after Sam and seating himself at an olive green booth across from Sam.
"We at our destination?" Sam asked Dean, sounding surprisingly awake.
"Yup Sammy! Welcome to the wonderful, quaint town of Sandwich, Massachusetts!" Dean said, proclaiming the name of the town like it was a ''price is right' prize, throwing his arms in the air.
"Sandwich?" Sam asked, clearly baffled. Dean nodded and threw the brochure towards Sam as confirmation, Sam skimmed through it.
"Very fascinating, Dean." Sam said as he read the small pamphlet.The waitress began to walk towards the Winchesters, she was in her mid-thirties and had short blonde hair. She brought a pen out from behind her ear and a note pad from her puke, yellow smock.
"Aftahnoon, fellas. I haven't seen you two awound hewe befoe." She said with a thick New England accent.
"Uhhh, hello..." Dean said at a loss for words, he didn't understand half of what the chick said, Sam intergected.
"We're visiting, lovely town town you have here!" Sam spoke slowly, accentuating every syllable like he was speaking to a 'special' five-year old. The waitress didn't look too happy with his tone.
"Eehh, thanks. Now can I can yah folks anythin' to drink? Pehaps a Frappe?" She said, not looking at the two fine male specimens in front of her.
"Uhh, a drink?" Sam asked.
"Yeah, would you like a frappe?" She asked, like it was the simplest thing.
"Is that some sort of coffee?" Dean asked, quirking his eyebrows. The waitress sighed.
"Nah, a frappe! Yah know, milk and ice creahm!" She almost yelled at them.
"Oh a milkshake!" Sam said, comprehending her.
"Yes! Do you want one!?" She asked them.
"No thanks, we'd just like some coffees." Dean said, waving his hand in a negative answer.
"Regulah?" She asked, chewing on some gum.
"Does that mean black?" Sam asked, furrowing his brow.
"Nah, milk and sugah, Sugah." She said, winking at the two, sure they might be a little slow, but damn if they ain't cute.
"Oh, just bring us cream and sugars to put in ourselves." Dean said, politely.
"Shue thing, suh. Now what do you guys want to eat?" She asked them.
"What's the special, today...Judith?" Sam asked, reading her name-tag.
"Well foh lunch we got grindahs for the special." She shrugged.
"A grinda?"Dean asked.
"Yah know! A grindah! Bread, meat, vegetables!" Judith yelled, getting frustrated with the foreigners.
"A sandwich?" Sam asked.
"Yes! A foot long sandwich, like the town, but here we call em' grindahs" She explained.
"Sure, we'll have that." Dean said, not wanting to try to communicate with the woman anymore. She wrote it down and walked away.
"Oh...my...god." Dean plopped his head down on the table.
"No more New Englanders,okay Dean?" Sam whispered, leaning across to Dean. Dean nodded then looked at the TV, there was some newspaper report, he pointed to an old man wearing a flannel shirt and a trucker cap at the bar reading the paper.
"Hey! Sir! Can you please turn that TV up?" Dean asked, Sam turned around then looked at the TV as the small-town Walter Cronkite wannabe's voice began to grow louder, luckily, this man didn't have a thick accent.
"Local woman, Janice Ferris was found at the foot of her triple-decker home last night, her daughter who had witnessed her jump claims that someone drove her mother to jump, authorities claim that is just due to shock, more details will come as this tragic story unfolds."
Sam looked at Dean with an expression said spoke volumes, but mostly just "Oh no." The waitress, Judith came back to the table, carrying their subs and coffees.
"It's awful, isn't it?" She said to them, the woman actually looked sympathetic. "Yah know, I grew up with that family." She said sadly.
"Is that so?"
"Yeah, cawse, same neighbouwhood, Ah babysat foh heh." She said, nodding.
"I'm sorry to hear that." Sam said, rubbing her arm, soothingly. She began to tear up a bit. Dean got up and pulled out some money, he pulled out two twenties and dropped them on the table.
"Could we get this to go, please? And keep that change to yourself, okay?" Dean asked her, looking into her hazel eyes.
"Shuwah thing mistah." She said, nodding.
"Poor girl." Sam said.
"Yeah, well Sam, you know what we gotta do now."
"Dean! You said we were vacationing now."
"How was I supposed to know a case would pop out? Listen, we'll check it out, if there's nothing going on, we'll go back to vacationing, okay? Deal?" Dean said, looking up at Sam, who sighed.
"Fine, but for the record, this sucks." He said, walking out to the car.
Judith came back with doggie bags and paper cups for the Winchesters.
"Thank you so much, Judith. Take care of yourself." Dean told her reassuringly. She just nodded. He walked out and started the car. Her eyes lingered afterwards on where he exited.
"In other news, escaped convict brothers..." The reporter went one, she turned her head towards the TV.
"Aye! Tawn that shit awff!" She yelled, which the old trucker happily oblige as Judith went back to work.
Dean dropped the doggie bags in next to Sam, who began to dig for his 'grinder' as Dean went to the nearest phone booth to find the number for the Ferris household, luckily there was only one 'J Ferris in Sandwich, Massachusetts, Dean quickly jotted down the number and got in the driver's seat next to Sam, who was munching away on his sub.
"First, we'll check into the nearest motel, then we'll go talk to the family, 'kay?" Dean said.
"Yeah, sure Dean." Sam said, a little dazed, he clearly didn't like the prospect of a possible hunt on their vacation.