Chapter Fifteen
Sam returned to the motel room three hours later, casting a quick glance at his older brother as he took his jacket off, tossing it onto his bed. Dean was sitting on his own bed, back propped up against the headboard. He seemed completely engrossed in whatever he was doing on the laptop, but Sam knew better. He slumped down on his own bed, clearing his throat to alert Dean's attention. Dean spared him a quick glance before his eyes went back to the screen.
"So, it looks like just a simple salt and burn to me," Sam said, "just like dad said. We could get the records tomorrow, see where she's buried, buy some more lighter fluid and finish the job." He finished, looking at Dean, who was completely absorbed in the laptop in front of him. Sam couldn't help but wonder if he'd already broken his own record playing pinball on that thing. "Dean? Earth to Dean?"
"Huh?" Dean looked up at Sam, who rolled his eyes.
"I said I didn't find anything." Sam said.
"Oh." Dean said, stretching, massaging his aching neck.
"Looks like a simple salt and burn." Sam repeated. Dean nodded lightly.
"How far back did you look?" he asked.
"About twenty years. That's how far the library records go." Sam answered. Dean nodded again.
"Well," he put the laptop aside, grabbing a notebook that was sitting beside him, dropped his feet to the carpeted floor and faced the younger hunter. "This one's from '97." He said, handing Sam a piece of paper, "And that's from '83, so you're not looking all that hard, are you, Sam?" he asked as Sam skimmed through both articles.
"Shit." Sam muttered.
"Oh, it gets better." Dean noted, "'81, '74, '67, '63, '51, '42…" Dean kept pulling articles from his notebook, handing them over to Sam. "Last one I found was 1827." He said.
"Wonderful." Sam said with a sour face.
"Yep." Sam sighed.
"Well, anything in these that would actually help us?" he asked.
"That's your job, I'm beat. I'm gonna go out for a while, want me to get you anything?" Dean offered.
"Where're you going?" Sam asked.
"I dunno, just need to be out of this room."
"Bring some food, would you?" Sam asked, "And Dean," he stopped the older hunter just as he was about to leave, "vending machine stuff doesn't count." Dean flashed him a wicked smile and got out of the room.
"What's this?" Sam asked at the Doritos bag that made its way to his lap.
"It's food." Dean said, putting a brown paper bag on the small table and shrugging his jacket off, failing to smother a cough.
"Dean, I thought I said I didn't want anything from a vending machine!" Sam snapped. Dean gave him that annoying innocent look that only managed to get on Sam's nerves.
"What? It's not from a vending machine, it's from the gas station." He smirked, "You didn't say anything about food from the gas station…" he said innocently and Sam glowered at him. "Relax, would you, I swear, Sammy, keep doing that and you'll end up with gray hair by the time you're thirty." Dean said, taking the paper bag and bringing it over to Sam. "I got back to that diner, I got you your precious turkey sandwich, extra greens, and a girly salad. It's got croutons or whatever." Dean finished giving the bag to Sam, who looked sheepish, his mouth in an 'o' shape.
Sam brought the bag back to the table, taking a seat, and started taking all the food out of the bag as Dean sat across from him.
"So, did you find anything?" Dean asked, reaching over for one of the four sandwiches he'd bought. Sam bit into his sandwich, shaking his head.
"No. Doesn't seem to be a pattern in the dates, and I couldn't find any lunar or other celestial cycles that would explain the gap between the attacks." Sam said with his mouth full, and then reached for a can of… soda? Hmm. He actually wanted some beer. Well, if Dean can stop drinking, so could he. Hell, maybe Dean really needed some support. He has been drinking beer since he was seventeen…
"Uh, Sam, that's mine. I brought you beer. I can get you a soda from the machine outside if you want…" Dean suggested, taking the can away from him and giving him the bottle of beer, which he took quickly.
"No. No, that's fine. Thanks. For the beer, I mean. And the food. Um… anyway…"
"Sam?"
"Yeah?"
"You're babbling."
"Right." Sam nodded, taking a long swig from his beer.
"So, no clues as to why now? What this spirit wants, why is it so active all of a sudden?" Dean asked, raising his brow.
"Uh… No. Not that I could figure out." Sam said. Dean made a face.
"I guess we'll just have to go talk to the family. Dad tell you where they're staying or are they still on that farm?" Dean asked.
"No, they checked into a hotel. With everything that happened, I don't really blame them." Sam said, taking another bite of his sandwich. "We could go first thing tomorrow morning." He suggested. Dean gave a slight nod, rewrapping what was left of his sandwich. Sam stared at him. Dean was rewrapping a sandwich? Dean didn't finish a sandwich? And hell was about to freeze, when, exactly?
"I'm gonna take a shower and hit the sack." Dean said as he got up from his seat. "What?" he asked.
"Nothing." Sam said quickly, resuming his chewing.
"You're doing it again!" Dean said irritably.
"Doing what?" Sam asked.
"The staring thing." Dean said, "Look, if you got something to say to me, say it. Don't drive me crazy with the staring, alright? 'Cause little brother or not, keep it up, and I'll put something really nasty in your coffee." He threatened as he walked over to the bathroom.
"Oh, yeah? Like what? Make it decaf?" Sam just couldn't resist.
"With the stuff you drink? Decaf would be a step up!" Dean shot back.
"So, that was helpful." Dean said sarcastically as he got in the car. Sam offered him a smile.
"At least we know what kind of things this spirit likes to do." He offered, realizing as the words came out of his mouth how stupid they sounded. His brother's look confirmed it. "Sorry." He added sheepishly.
"Okay," Dean took a deep breath, "So… I'll go look at the county records, try to figure out where she's buried." Dean said. Sam gave a slight nod.
"Yeah, I'll go over dad's journal again, see what rituals we can use in case there's nothing left to burn." Sam offered. Dean tilted his head to the side.
"Hey, we could always just torch the farm." He said jokingly, smirking at Sam.
"Dean?"
"Hmm?"
"For the record," Sam started, glancing at his brother, "I don't like this." Dean spared him a quick glance. "I mean, she likes to scare people to death? Like, literally scare people to death?" Dean made a face, shrugging.
"Gonna take a helluva lot of work for that spirit to scare us, Sammy boy." He said cockily. Sam was less than confident about that. Right now, it really wouldn't take all that much. There was one thing that kept him up at night, that scared the crap out of him, and it had nothing to do with his powers, with his nightmares or his visions. It actually had a lot to do with the man sitting next to him.
Biting his nails, Sam leaned his head against the passenger side window, staring at the squiggly lines the fat raindrops were making on the window, his mind wandering. It had been raining pretty heavily down here for the past few days, and with Dean just getting over a serious cold… He wished that, for once, it would be just a simple hunt, with no complications. It wasn't too much to ask, was it?
Sam's heart was beating fast, sweat was trickling down his face and back, his breath was coming out in quick gasps. He swallowed, straining his ears as he held up his gun, but he couldn't hear anything. Just a moment ago, Dean was screaming for help, and now there was silence. Sam preferred the screaming.
He wiped his brow with his arm, kicking the door open with a wild cry and rushing into the room.
The dark room.
The room was so dark he couldn't see a thing. "Dean?" Sam cried warily, trying to adjust to the darkness inside the room. He squinted his eyes, gun drawn and ready, doing his best to try and sense any danger.
Slowly, he was able to discern shapes. Furniture. He wrinkled his brow. There was something familiar about this place, about this room, and it scared him.
"Dean?" he cried out again, looking around the all too familiar room. His heartbeat quickened. His mouth felt dry. He recognized this place. Clenching his jaw, Sam considered reaching for the light switch, but he quickly dismissed the thought. Familiar or not, something could still be in here. Something was here, he could feel it. He moved over to the bed. There was a dark stain on it. A large dark stain. Sam frowned, tilting his head to the side as he grew nearer. And then realization hit him and he sucked in his breath. His heart pounding hard against his chest, Sam slowly raised his eyes towards the ceiling. Please no, please no, please don't be there… A cry escaped his lips as he stumbled back and Lynn's body erupted in flames.
"Why did you leave me, Sam?" she asked, accusing, without moving her lips, "Why didn't you protect me?" and then a wall of flame raced his way. He quickly raised his arms to protect himself and felt something hard hit his face and front.
He blinked, grunting in pain, and pushed himself off the floor, breathing hard, untangling himself from his blankets. A nightmare. Thank God. Only it didn't feel like a dream. It was a vision, he just knew it was. He had to go back for Lynn, he had to save her.
"Dean?" Sam breathed as he pushed himself to his feet, swaying a little. He pressed his hand to his temple, feeling the beginning of a headache. Wonderful. He always did like that little treat. "Dean?" Sam asked again, sitting heavily on his bed and looking over at his brother's bed. His brother's empty bed. Shit. "Dean!" Sam cried out, quickly jumping to his feet. He checked the bathroom, but Dean wasn't there. Shit, shit, shit. "Dean!" the vanishing brother act was getting old really quick. Okay, no reason to panic. So he's not here. Doesn't mean he went off to hunt this thing without me. Could be a million reasons, Sam rationalized as he quickly put on his shoes. He could have gone for a walk, or to get something to drink, he does have that caffeine addiction… Sam quickly put a coat on, noticing all of Dean's things were still there. Good, he thought with palpable relief.
For a moment, Sam considered calling Dean's cell, but he quickly dismissed it. For one, it would look really stupid if Dean had just gone out for a cup of coffee or a soda. And two, Dean's cell sat on the table, right next to Sam's. No point in calling, then.
Sam got out of the motel room, tightening the coat around himself and frowning at the rain. It was just a light drizzle, or so the weatherman had promised. Light drizzle or not, it still managed to get Sam all wet. He searched the parking lot with his eyes, doing his best to keep away from the annoying little drops. He breathed a sigh of relief when he noticed the car. And there seemed to be someone in it.
Sam hesitated for a slight second before he started running for the car. He cursed loudly as he stepped in a deep puddle, succeeding in completely soaking his left foot. He really hated that squishy sound. Oh, and the wetness in his shoe wasn't one of his all time best feelings, either. But there was someone in the car. He could see it clearly now, even in the dark.
Sam knocked on the driver's side door. He could hear the music blaring in the car loud and clear. Rolling his eyes, he knocked harder, this time using his fist, but Dean still seemed very much asleep. Grimacing, Sam walked over to the passenger side, cursing again as he stepped in yet another deep puddle. He opened the car door, climbed inside, and slammed the door shut, effectively waking Dean up with a start.
"Dude! What the hell? You nearly gave me a heart attack!" Dean snapped, exhaling loudly.
"Sorry," Sam said, turning the volume down. "I knocked first. What the hell are you doing out here in the rain?" he asked. Dean blinked a couple of times, scratching his head. "Dean?"
"I…" he covered his mouth with his fist as he yawned, "I just felt like going for a drive." He said sleepily.
"Uh huh." Sam said, crossing his arms over his chest and looking skeptically at his older brother.
"I did!" Dean said defensively, "I drove around for a while, until I got tired, and then I was going to go back, but there was this awesome song playing…" Dean said quickly. Sam raised a brow.
"Oh, really?" he asked.
"Yes." Dean said, doing his best to keep his eyes open. His medication always made him sleepy, and this time, he just didn't seem to be able to fight it.
"And you just happened to park the car at the same place, even when there are other spots, closer to our room?" Sam questioned.
"Man, what's your problem?" Dean snapped, "What are you doing out here anyway?" Sam shook his head, staring out the window at the rain.
"I had another dream." He said quietly, keeping his eyes on the darkness outside.
"Yeah? Did it have hot supermodels and a giant hot tub in it? 'Cause mine did…" Dean smirked. He sighed loudly at the look on Sam's face. "One of those dreams?" Sam nodded. "Oh, great." Dean ran his fingers through his short hair. "So…"
"It's the Demon." Sam said in a small voice.
"Of course it is." Dean said dryly, closing his eyes.
"It's going to go after Lynn. We have to get back." Sam finished. At that, Dean's eyes snapped open.
"Wait, what? Go back?" he shook his head. "No, Sam. We're not going back there." Dean said assertively.
"We have to, Dean. What if we don't and Lynn ends up on the ceiling? Could you live with yourself if that happens?" Sam demanded. Dean shook his head.
"The Demon was already there," Dean said, "why would it come back?" he demanded. It was Sam's turn to shake his head, pursing his lips.
"I don't know, Dean. Maybe it never left!" he cried, "Maybe it's a trap, maybe it's waiting for us. Or maybe… I don't know, maybe it just wants to kill Lynn to get her out of the way. Like it killed Jess and Mom." Dean shook his head, staring out the windshield.
"We're not going back, Sam." He said in a small voice.
"I had another vision, Dean, the third one! I can't just ignore that! I can't just let Lynn die!" Sam cried. Dean glanced at him.
"We have a job to do." He said, "We talked to that family, we promised them we'd take care of that spirit, Sam. We promised them they won't lose anyone else, we can't just leave them!" Dean demanded, "What if we leave and someone else dies here, huh, Sam?" Sam bit his lip, running his hand through his hair and crying out in frustration.
"We have to finish this job, Sam. You know it. Besides, your visions have been screwy lately, you said so yourself." Dean said, and Sam noticed he was starting to shiver, even with the air conditioning on.
"I can't just ignore it, Dean." Sam said, "It's just like with Jess. I can't let her die. Not like that."
"We have to finish this first." Dean stopped him. "I mean, if it's really like Jess… You said you had visions for weeks before she died, right?" Sam pursed his lips, looking out at the rain. Dean took it as a yes. "So we have time." He went on. "We do this job, we get rid of this spirit. And then we'll look for the signs. If there are signs that the Demon is really there, we'll… We'll call dad. We'll go there ready, Sam."
"Dean…"
"So, what? You'll rush in there, get yourself killed? You don't even have the Colt, Sam, what good would that do?" Dean cut him off. Sam nodded lightly. Dean was right. He couldn't kill this Demon alone.
"You're right." Sam said finally. "We finish this hunt, but then we're going back." He added. Dean stared at him for a moment, and then looked away, saying nothing. "I just… I hate having to see this. I hate seeing her on the ceiling, and the flames…"
"I know." Dean murmured.
"So, are we going to get back in the room, or just sit here till morning?" Sam asked.
"Sam?" Sam stopped as he opened the door, turning to look back at his older brother. Dean hesitated. It looked like he had something important to say, something he was having trouble saying. He wouldn't even look at Sam.
"What is it?" Sam asked, studying his brother carefully. Dean seemed exhausted, but what else was new. Dean's brow creased as he spared a moment to look at his brother.
"Nothing." Dean said, shaking his head and getting out of the car. Sam noticed he was swaying a little bit as he walked back towards the motel room. He doubted it was just cramped muscles, like Dean had said. No, Dean was hiding something. There was no way he went out for a drive and just fell asleep in the car. And suddenly, Sam wondered which part of his vision was the one to come true.
TBC
A/N: If you haven't already done so, keep an eye out for Historylover's story, 'Crossed Paths', which I help co-write. Hope you enjoy that story, too. Please review! (Would it help if I said pretty please?)