FIVE

Honey Brook, Pennsylvania

January 16th, 2009

"Ooh, do you think we could stop and get a cheesesteak? I've always been a sucker for a Philly cheesesteak!" Dean bounced from foot to foot in an effort to keep warm as Sam bent over the lock to Janet Hardy's back door. Sam rolled his eyes at his brother, smiled in triumph as he heard the click of the lock, then stood up, twisting the knob and letting the door swing open.

"No, Dean, I don't think we'll have time. Besides, Philadelphia is a couple of hours away and we're on a hunt. Not exactly the time to be doing a taste-tour of the city," Sam grumbled as he pulled out the penlight he always kept in his pocket and motioned for Dean to go in ahead of him.

"Actually, Philly's only an hour away. Half an hour with me driving," Dean stated as he took first position and entered the dark house. Sam gawked at the back of his brother's dark blonde head.

"How," was all he managed to choke out.

"I used your computer and, whaddya call it - Googled it." Sam could hear the smirk, even without being able to see his brother's face, and shook his head.

"You promised you weren't going to touch my computer anymore," Sam hissed. His brother had once again crashed Sam's laptop while trying to look at yet another pornography website. It had taken Sam almost a week to get his computer in working order after the last time.

"Consider it payback for defiling my car with an I-pod," Dean replied, shuddering on the word I-pod, as Sam moved ahead of him. They moved through the house in tandem the way John had trained them to.

"It was my car, Dean. I was just giving it some more modernized comforts," Sam hissed back as they entered what appeared to be the living room. Some of the furniture had been moved around, probably by the police, making the space seem strange and misshapen. Sam moved to the front and began searching the floor, spotting the pentagram easily, just off the front entryway. He bent down and ran his finger over it. "It's painted on."

"That takes some time to do," Dean said as he bent down beside Sam. "Which means that whoever or whatever it was that painted it was in the house for a while." Sam watched his brother's face as it went from contemplative to angry as he spoke. Sam flicked his penlight around the room, not really looking for anything specific. As he moved his light over the front door, past all the crime scene tape, he spotted a light dust he would recognize anywhere.

"Well, it was definitely a demon," Sam stated as he rose and strode over to the doorway.

"How do you figure?" Dean asked, following behind him.

"Sulfur." It was all Sam needed to say. He used a pocket knife to scrape some off the door handle and showed it to Dean.

"Son of a bitch," Dean exclaimed. Sam wiped the knife off on his pant leg and moved around his brother. He headed upstairs, avoiding a small, dried pool of blood as he circumvented the pentagram on the floor. Finding nothing unusual, he started back down the stairs. Dean came out of the kitchen as Sam reached the bottom stair looking only slightly less enthused then he had outside. "Find anything?"

"No, you?"

"Nothing. Although, I wasn't really expecting to since it looks like the ritual was confined to the living room and entryway. We should get over to the Kligman residence tonight, while it's still dark. See if we find the same thing there."

"I'm betting yes," Dean grumbled. They headed back outside and climbed into the Impala. The heat pumped happily out of the vents and Sam placed his hands directly in its flow in an effort to warm them. After giving Dean directions to Robert Kligman's house, which was a few blocks away, Sam started sketching the pentagram on a sheet of notebook paper. It doesn't look familiar, he thought as he stared at the page. He supposed there were still some he had never seen before but decided that maybe a call to Bobby when they got back to the motel was in order.

They searched the house in record time, finding the pentagram, carved this time into the hardwood floor of the dining room, and more sulfur, this time on the large cherry-wood dining table. There was even more blood at the second house. Sam's stomach churned uneasily as he remembered the details from the police report they had procured a few hours before.

It had been some of the most gruesome pictures they had ever seen, and, considering the fact that they hunted some pretty gruesome things, that was saying a lot. Dean drove the car back to the motel while Sam sat in silence going over the details in the reports. They were staying at a Holiday Inn not far from Janet Hardy's address and had luckily gotten a room that looked normal compared to some of the more eccentrically decorated motels they'd been in.

When they got back to their room, Sam plopped into the chair in front of the small desk where his laptop lay. He pulled up the file labeled "Dad's Journal" and started looking at the pentagrams they had already logged. Dean shrugged out of his jacket, tossed it onto his unmade bed, and went straight into the bathroom. He hadn't said a word to Sam since they'd left the Kligman house, but music had blasted from the Impala's speakers, easing some of Sam's worry.

Sam could hear the water running from behind the closed door as he scrolled through countless pages of information, even pulling up a few websites to reference as well. He couldn't find the pentagram, or the ritual it could possibly belong with, anywhere. He was going to have to call Bobby. Sam pulled up Bobby's number on his cell phone and was just about to dial it when he heard a loud crash from inside the bathroom. Scrambling out of the chair, he rushed to the bathroom door. "Dean...?" he yelled, frantically pounding on the locked door.

"Easy, Sam. I'm okay." Dean opened the door and smiled sheepishly at Sam. Behind him, Sam could see the broken mirror, shards of glass scattered across the counter and in the sink.

"What the hell happened, Dean," Sam asked, anger rising in his voice. He thought he already knew the answer, it was evident from the scene behind his brother, but he wanted to hear Dean say it.

"I punched the mirror. No biggie," Dean stated as he shrugged, pushing past Sam.

"Don't be ridiculous. You just put your fist into a mirror, Dean. I think that qualifies as a big deal," Sam argued. Dean plopped onto his bed and pulled an issue of Hot Rod magazine off the nightstand. He began roughly flipping through the pages.

"Let it go, Sam," Dean growled.

"What the hell is going on with you, man?"

"I was just having a moment in there, alright. It's no big deal."

"You've been having a lot of these "moments" lately. I guess I should just add this to the top of the list then?"

Dean groaned and rolled his eyes. "Geez, Sammy, you sound like a girl with all this whining. I'm fine, not even a scratch on me." He showed Sam his hands as if proof. "I just needed to hit something." Dean slammed the magazine closed and threw it on the bed at his feet. "Would you rather it have been you?" He glared at Sam, waiting for his brother's response. Sam glared back, too angry to answer.

Finally, as he watched a smile tug at the corners of his brother's lips, Sam gave up. "Fine. Alright. Whatever." Still glaring at Dean, he sat down on the edge of his brother's bed, took a deep breath, and decided to change the subject. "I think we need to call Bobby. I've been through every page of dad's journal, been over everything dad's ever seen or heard of. I've even checked out a couple of websites. I can't find a ritual to match that pentagram, or even the pentagram, anywhere. Maybe Bobby will be able to dig something up."

"Sounds like you have it all under control," Dean said as he got up from his bed. He grabbed his jacket, pulled it on, and fished his car keys out of a pocket. "Tell Bobby I said hey when you talk to him."

"Where are you going," Sam asked. His brother stopped at the door and grinned at him. "No, wait. Let me guess. That bar we passed a few miles back?"

"Yup," Dean smirked. "You should come with me, have a few beers. You can call Bobby from the car."

"No, thanks. I'm going to dig around some more. It's bugging me that I can't place this pentagram." Sam went back to staring at his computer screen. He heard Dean leave, shutting the door behind him. A few seconds later, he heard the Impala peel out of the parking lot. Sam sighed as he reached for his cell phone and dialed Bobby's number.

"Hey Sam," Bobby greeted him, picking up after only the second ring. "How's it goin'?"

"Hey Bobby. I actually have a favor to ask..."

Sam detailed the job and the problems they had run into identifying the ritual and pentagram. After he finished, Sam hesitated, trying to decide if he should mention anything to the older hunter about Dean's latest mood swings. "What else is botherin' you, Sam?" the hunter asked.

Sam knew he could count on Bobby to be objective. He was basically family, after all. He had really helped both Sam and Dean after their dad's death, giving them a place to stay while Dean rebuilt the Impala and the need for space to cope with the whole ordeal. Bobby took on the role of father figure for them in the year before Dean went to hell, offering his support whether on a hunting job or not. Bobby had tried to be that again for Sam when Dean went to hell, but Sam had had a hard time being around anyone. He still felt awful about the way he had cut Bobby out during that time. He should have known Bobby would pick up on his hesitation.

"It's Dean. He's been acting a little strange, lately."

"He's always been a little strange, but I'm guessing you mean somethin' different," Bobby replied. He waited for Sam to continue.

"Okay, so maybe I should say he's been acting stranger than usual. He punched the mirror in our motel room tonight, Bobby. The other day, he barely said two words to me. Finally, I couldn't take the silence anymore and I brought up the job we're on now just to get some kind of response out of him. It's like his fuse is short or something. He's blowing up and closing off more and more nowadays. I know I may just be reading too much into this," Sam sighed.

He felt paranoid, even a little crazy. If Dean knew he was talking to Bobby - "whining like a little girl" as his brother would say - Dean would kill him. But Sam needed to talk to someone and Ruby had been keeping her distance lately. Ever since the showdown with the angels in the barn that night with Anna. It had also been the same night Dean found out how much moer involved Sam and Ruby had gotten while he was in hell.

"I can see where your concern is comin' from, Sam, I do, but Dean has a lot goin' on. It's not every day someone gets yanked out of hell by an angel and told he has to save the world. He's got to be thinkin' through some heavy stuff. Just give him time to work through it. He'll be alright."

"Yeah, I know." Sam sighed and slumped against the back of his chair. "I sound like a chick, don't I? Sorry."

"No need to apologize, kid. You're worried and that's understandable. Just try not to let it get to you too much."

"Thanks for listening, Bobby. I'll fax over that sketch in a few minutes. If you find out anything..."

"I'll give you a call," Bobby finished for him. "I know the drill. And if you boys need anythin', don't you hesitate to call."

"We won't. Thanks again, Bobby." Sam hung up feeling slightly better than he did before the phone call. Talking to the older hunter always helped and he felt another twinge of guilt. Life may not have been so hard had Sam let Bobby in, but it was the way Sam had wanted it. It was his fault Dean was in hell and he deserved to suffer in agony every day for it.

Sam hated to admit it now, but he'd had a death wish; he'd wanted to die rather than live without Dean. It seems to be a sick, ironic pattern with us Winchesters, Sam thought bitterly. It had been a bad couple of months and it would have killed Bobby to see Sam the way he was. Ruby had shown up just in time, in more ways than one, to rescue Sam.

Sam headed for the motel's front desk, surprised and grateful to find the woman who had checked them in earlier still at the desk. He knew it would be easier to use the fax machine himself with the woman there. She smiled at him as he entered the lobby, her dark brown eyes lighting up the same way they had when he'd walked in to book the room.

Sam had become more aware of women's attraction to him since being around Dean. Before, he never would have noticed how the woman, Sue according to her brass nametag, fluttered nervously at the counter while he had filled out the paperwork; how she said his name, currently David Mills, in a hushed manor, making her husky voice even lower. He noticed now how she flipped her long black hair off her shoulders as he approached the desk.

"How can I help you, Mr. Mills," she asked, smiling at him expectantly.

"I was wondering if I could use your fax machine for just a minute," Sam asked, giving his infamous puppy-dog eyes. He knew Dean would be rolling with laughter if he could see Sam's sorry attempt at flirting. Sue reached her hand out to take the paper he held and frowned when Sam kept hold of it. "Actually, it's kind of personal. I was hoping I could do it myself." She looked at him for a moment then shrugged.

"Alright, I guess." She motioned for Sam to come around the edge of the desk. "Just dial nine first to get an outside line, then the number," she instructed.

"Thanks.

Sam carefully slipped the paper into the fax machine and dialed Bobby's fax number, making sure to keep the sketch out of view. Sue hovered behind him, pretending to busy herself with paperwork. Once the confirmation page printed out, Sam thanked her again and headed back to their room. He could hear her sigh just before he rounded the end of the hallway. Maybe I should call Dean and have him come get me, Sam thought as he entered the quiet room. I could use a cold beer.

"Hey Sam," a woman's voice said from the darkening room, startling Sam. She stood silhouetted in the bathroom doorway.

"Ruby? What are you doing here?" Sam tried to keep the enjoyment her appearance gave him from his voice.

"Just checking in. I heard murmurs something was going on in the area and figured I'd check it out myself. Looks like you beat me to it." She smiled lightheartedly at Sam.

"Yeah, well, we were given a little push. Castiel showed up earlier and told Dean that Lilith's up to something," Sam explained as he sat down on the end of his bed. Ruby sat down beside him and he could feel the warmth radiating off the body she was inhabiting. He gave her a half smile.

"So the angel thinks Lilith's in the area?" Ruby shuddered slightly when she mentioned Castiel.

"Well, they think she's planning something. According to Dean, they think she's trying to open another seal."

"What do you think?" Ruby had learned to read Sam well in the months they'd spent together. Sam smiled again and shrugged.

"I don't know. Maybe. I can't seem to find anything on this pentagram that we found at both scenes. Nothing on a ritual anywhere that uses it. I just sent Bobby a sketch of it to see if he can find anything. It's strange and I've seen a lot of strange." Sam handed Ruby the paper. "Have you ever seen it, or anything like it, before?" Ruby stared at the paper for a moment, her face thoughtful.

She shook her head. "No, I can't say that I have." Sam stood up roughly, frustration making him want to pace. He could feel Ruby's eyes following him as he moved. "Sorry," she added.

"It just doesn't make sense," Sam cried. "I've been through every website imaginable, every piece of my dad's journal. Bobby said it didn't sound familiar to him either. How is it that no one has ever seen this damn thing anywhere, ever?" Sam was ranting and he knew it. He tried to take a deep breath.

"Easy, Sam. It's not like there's ever been anything like this attempted before. Raising Lucifer from hell by breaking sixty-six seals? That's some big, crazy, scary shit," Ruby said. It helped having her there. It calmed him a little. It was a weird relationship, Ruby being a demon and Sam being a hunter, but it seemed to fit. They had been through a lot together, even before Dean went to hell. Sam trusted Ruby, even if Dean didn't.

"Thanks," he said as he turned towards her. He smiled again and she smiled back. "I think I just needed to vent a little. Sorry it had to be at you."

"No problem. It's not like I haven't been at the brunt before," she joked. Sam smiled at her, a true smile this time, and laughed.

"Yeah, I guess you have. You in the mood to go get something to eat?" Sam's stomach began to growl at the thought of food.

Ruby shrugged her shoulders. "Sure, I guess. Let's go." She took Sam by the arm and led him out of the room. They boosted a car from the parking lot, planning to have it back before the owner even knew it was gone, and headed out in search of a decent place to eat.