This is sort of a bridge chapter, I think. Information gathering ahead! Hang in there. :)
I own nothing. *Sigh*
WWW
Sam opened his eyes to the light coming in around the cheap drapes on the window. As he lay there enjoying the time between awake and asleep, the sound of running water in the bathroom filtered into his brain. He glanced at the clock, which read 7:30 a.m. Dean wasn't lying next to him, so Sam surmised it was him in the shower. The young hunter flopped onto his back and stared at the ceiling.
He lay there pondering the events of the previous day. What're we going to do? How can we beat this thing together and not end up stuck on the other side? We have to figure out a way to stay together, get rid of whatever's down in that basement, and get back to this side with both of us in one piece!
As he lay there, lost in thought, he was suddenly jerked back to the moment as a wet bath towel landed on his face. Sitting up, he scowled and threw it back at his brother, who was standing in his boxer briefs; smiling. Dean easily caught the towel and laughed. Sam responded with a small smile, too.
"So, where were you?"
"I was thinking about our situation, dude, where do you think?"
Dean shrugged, "Come up with anything useful?"
Sam shook his head as he got up and headed for the shower. "I need to do some more research before we allow ourselves to go back there. I'll take the laptop to breakfast and maybe we can hit the Historical Society when we're done eating. Okay?"
Dean shrugged with his mouth as he pulled a mostly clean t-shirt over his head. "Sure, we definitely need more info."
Sam nodded and shut the bathroom door behind him.
Forty-five minutes later they were at the typical road-side diner, this one shaped kind of like a shiny bus; Sam had ordered pancakes and Dean had ordered the breakfast skillet with coffee for both.
"You boys are in luck. We've got a fresh pot brewing right now."
The waitress' statement was rewarded with one of Dean's most charming smiles. "Thank you, sweetheart," he said sincerely.
The matronly waitress blushed as she turned to get the coffee and put in the orders.
Dean turned to Sam, who had opened the laptop and was typing in concentration. Geek Boy busy — no fun there,' he thought to himself as he began to peruse the diner. Some truckers sat at the counter eating and enjoying their coffee — nothing there. A young family with a four-year old-ish towhead and an infant were sitting at one of the tables on the other side of the diner. Dean's eyes rested on them for a moment as the family laughed and enjoyed their meal. The mother's laugh was like music — the father had a deep, booming laugh. The laughing little boy looked at his father with big, adoring eyes. The hunter continued to watch them with a sad smile as they ate their meals, surprised when the waitress showed up with his and Sam's plates of food. He startled and realized that she must have been there once before as his coffee cup was sitting right in front of him, untouched.
Sam glanced up at Dean as he put the laptop to the side, preparing to eat. He noticed the untouched coffee in front of his brother and that he wasn't really eating, but pushing the food around on his plate while looking elsewhere.
"What's up?"
Dean startled again. "Huh?"
The younger hunter pointed with his fork full of pancake before putting it into his mouth. "You haven't touched your coffee and you're just playing with your food, man."
The older man looked at his meal. "Oh, I don't know. Just daydreaming, I guess."
"Anything bothering you?"
"No, everything's fine." Dean smiled and dug into his skillet meal. He glanced back wistfully at the family across the diner then concentrated on his breakfast. "Find anything more?" He nodded toward the laptop.
"Nope. Nothing. We're definitely going to need to go to the Historical Society to see what we can find out there. Sorry, dude."
Dean shrugged, "I don't mind. I'm kind of in the mood for Small Town America today. Is it far? Shall we walk or take the car?"
Sam shook his head. "I saw a map of the town on its website — it's not far."
"Cool. It's a nice day so we'll take advantage of it." Dean continued digging into his skillet and the rest of the meal was spent in comfortable conversation.
Once they had finished their breakfast, along with several cups of coffee, Dean threw some bills on the table, blowing a kiss to the blushing waitress as they left. The color on her cheeks made him smile.
Sam gaped. "Don't you think she's a little old for you?"
"I didn't ask her out on a date, Sammy. All I did was make her smile and blush a little. It doesn't hurt to get friendly with the natives. We might need her sometime."
"Oooookaaaay. I can't argue with that logic, but it's been a long time since I've seen you like this." Sam was smiling broadly at his brother, caught up in Dean's mood, thrilled that his big brother was enjoying the outing.
"I don't know why, Sammy, but I feel really good today." His face took on a more serious expression as he thought and glanced at Sam. "Maybe I'm just glad to have gotten out of that basement alive — twice."
Sam became serious too as he laid his hand on Dean's shoulder. "I second all of that, big brother."
Dean nodded. "Enough. Let's get to this Historical Society and see what we can find out." The smile came back onto his handsome face as he started off towards the end of the block at a good pace. His little brother hurried after him, catching up in no time.
They turned at the corner and made it to the Historical Society building very quickly. It was hard to miss. There was an American flag on a pole in front of the building; below the American flag was a flag with the town crest on it. The crest was a mining motif with the tools of the trade arranged around a man in a hard hat with a miner's light on top. It clearly depicted what had made the town of Harrison what it had been. The brothers looked at the flag for a moment, at each other, and went inside. They were greeted by a little old lady who looked like she might have been one of the first residents of the town.
"Good morning, gentlemen. I'm Gladys Brimby," she said cheerily, offering her hand to each brother in turn.
"Dean."
"Sam."
"So, what brings such fine young men to our little haven of history this morning?"
"We were hoping to get some information, ma'am," Sam supplied.
Dean turned on a blinding smile and added, "Uh, yeah. We're staying at the Seashell Motel and understand there's some history there — about the land it's built on or the previous building or…" He let his sentence trail off.
Gladys blinked.
Sam wandered off to look at some of the books as Dean continued, "My brother," he indicated Sam, "looked up some stuff on the internet — on your website and it was very interesting. We were just hoping to get a little more information here, if possible?" He looked at Gladys hopefully, glancing at Sam, who offered Gladys his dimples.
Dean smiled, turning back to Gladys to see if the dimples had done their job. Score! Gladys was nodding, heading over to Sam and the books.
"Of course." she smiled, running her fingers over the shelf of books until she found the volume that she was searching. "Here we are." She pulled out the rather large book, placing it on the table so the brothers could look at it. "Why don't we sit down and perhaps I can answer any questions you may have? Would you like some tea? I was just brewing some when you came in."
The brothers looked at each other, Sam finally answering for both of them, "Yes, ma'am. We'd love some tea."
"Wonderful. Now, you boys make yourselves comfortable and I'll be right back," Gladys said happily as she turned to go to the back room.
Sam watched her go and turned to Dean, who apparently wasn't happy with his little brother. The glare on his face was a sure sign. Nothing got past the younger hunter.
"What?" Sam asked defensively.
"Tea?" Dean's eyebrows were nearly in his hairline.
"Dude, you've had tea before. Just drink it. It'll make her happy and she might tell us everything we need to know."
Dean grumbled under his breath as they sat down, but knew Sam was right. Sam knew how to get information out of people and the little old ladies always loved him. He would drink the tea, but he refused to be happy about it.
As they began looking through the book Gladys had given them, they were somewhat disappointed to find that there wasn't much in there that they hadn't seen on the website. What was new wasn't very helpful to their quest.
"We need to find more info. This is old news." Dean tapped the book.
"We'll have to ask questions, hope Gladys has some answers, and we don't have to go asking around town."
Gladys returned from the kitchen carrying a tray holding the teapot with all the essentials for a tea party. Dean, joining his brother in being polite to the lady, jumped up to take it from her and help her to her seat. "Smells wonderful, Gladys. Perfect for a beautiful day like today." he smiled his most charming smile. "Oh. Cookies, too?" He was suddenly very interested in the items on the tray.
Gladys smiled as she began fussing with the tea and cookies, "They're homemade. These are chocolate chip. The Historical Society has many wonderful cooks so we like to keep fresh baked goods on hand for visitors. You know, Harrison is a small town and doesn't get a great many people through here, but there are some from time to time. If we were closer to the interstate, it might be different for us, though."
The brothers gave her their complete attention, nodding and looking impressed at the appropriate moments.
"Sugar and cream?" Gladys asked.
Sam smiled and held up his cup, while Dean smiled and shook his head. "Thank you, ma'am," they said in unison. The Winchester smiles were getting a workout this morning.
"Such polite young men!" Gladys beamed at the brothers as she handed them their cups and offered cookies.
Sam took two cookies and Dean took six. The older man jumped slightly and scowled at his brother who had kicked him under the table. Dean cocked his eyebrows in a question and Sam tried to frown subtly as he indicated the cookies. Dean shrugged as he popped one into his mouth, sighing in contentment — they were wonderful.
Finished pouring her own tea, Gladys looked up at the polite, handsome young men sitting at the table with her. "Sorry I took so long in the kitchen. Did you find anything interesting, boys?"
Dean started to speak, but Sam jumped in instead, having noticed that his brother's mouth was completely full of cookies. Sam didn't want to be sprayed when his brother began to speak.
"This is a wonderful book, Gladys, and it has a lot of information in it. Unfortunately, we found most of the same information on the Society website. We were hoping to get some more personal information." Sam brought the dimples out again. "The kind of information that probably wouldn't be on the web site."
Picking up the book to flip the pages, he handed it to Gladys when he found the one he was looking for. "Mr. Ian Harrison had built a mansion on the site of the motel, but it fell into ruin and was torn down in the 50's. One of Mr. Harrison's descendants had been the owner, but had disappeared and the mansion sat empty for some time before the sale and destruction."
Gladys nodded enthusiastically as Sam was talking. Dean was amused; the dimples were working like a charm.
When Sam finished talking, Gladys was anxious to speak up and fill in any blanks that she could. "Yes, yes. School teachers used to live there, you know."
The brothers nodded encouragingly to Gladys. Sam deepened the dimples while Dean brightened his smile as they leaned forward to hear more.
"It seemed a little scandalous to some of the ladies of the town, but others felt it was no different than a lady owning a boarding house and having gentlemen living there. The teacher was never the only resident, you see." The brothers nodded. They did, indeed, see.
Gladys lowered her voice a little conspiratorially as she continued, "You know, some of the teachers disappeared. There were searches and help was called in from all over the area to try to find them, but they were never found. My grandmother told me the story about this as I was much too young to be aware of any of it." She coyly patted her hair and glanced at the hunters.
The hunters enthusiastically agreed with her last statement. "Of course."
Sam took a sip of his tea and waited a second, hoping that Gladys would continue. When she didn't speak right up, he asked, "When the last occupants left the mansion, it was because Martin had disappeared, correct?"
"Yes. Such a terrible thing. It was exactly like the teachers that had disappeared; there was just no sign of him at all. The tenants all moved out and it was toward the end of the school year, so the last teacher resigned and left town."
"Lora Gregory," Sam offered.
"Right. My gran thought there was something going on there, but no one knew anything for sure."
Dean cocked an eyebrow at her. "Really? What kind of something?"
Gladys lowered her voice again, "Well, according to Gran, Lora Gregory was in the 'family way' when she left town. No one had any proof, of course, and no one asked her, but she did appear to have put on a few pounds, so it's entirely possible."
"No kidding! Was Martin the father?" Dean asked as he grinned at Sam. This might explain a few things.
"That's what was suspected. There was no Martin to be dealt with anymore so no one knew for sure. None of the other men in town owned up to it, but there was no need; she was gone. Apparently, though, it was quite the buzz around town for a while."
"I'll bet," the brothers said in unison.
The brothers looked at each other for a second, having a silent conversation and, turning back to Gladys, Sam said, "Do you have any idea where Lora went or where she was from? What happened to the baby? Are there any pictures of Miss Gregory?"
Gladys looked from one brother to the other, smiling. "My goodness. You boys are really interested in this story, aren't you?"
Dean stepped in for this one. "It's kind of a hobby of ours. Sam and I are real history buffs and we like to get a lot of information in little towns like this. It's the small towns of America that built this country and made it what it is. There're a lot of background stories like this all over the country and they're all very interesting."
The Winchester smile made another brilliant appearance along with Sam's dimples.
Gladys beamed at the boys in front of her, thoroughly impressed with their interest. "How nice. The small towns are so often driven right by in favor of going to the exciting big cities. There isn't much interest in quiet towns, anymore. Just no appreciation in this fast-paced world we live in." She looked down as she took a sip of her tea.
The brothers looked at her with sympathy, shaking their heads at the injustice of it all.
Gladys gathered herself once again and smiled. "I believe she was from Boston originally, but I don't know if that's where she returned to. There was a young lady here in town that she had become friendly with so there may have been some correspondence between the two. Give me a few minutes and I'll remember her name." The boys nodded. "As for a picture of Miss Gregory, I'm afraid not."
The young men in front of her seemed to slump slightly at her statement. As Dean reached for another cookie, Gladys gasped and cried, "Of course!"
The two hunters startled at her outcry, Dean nearly dropping the cookie, and watched as she nimbly jumped up to head toward one of the book shelves. Finding what she needed, she returned to the table and set the book down in front of her, palms pressed into the cover, a smile on her face. "This is another history of Harrison that was put together by the school board to show how diligent they were in providing education during the early part of the town's existence. I believe there are some pictures of some of the teachers in here. If I have one, it will be in this book."
As Gladys flipped through the book searching for the requested picture, the two brothers sat forward in their chairs as if their energy could help direct her to the proper page. Dean, never good at waiting, was bouncing his knees with such force that Sam had to punch him on the sly to get him to settle down. Sam made a face at his brother as Dean glared at him. Both tried to bring their anticipation under control.
"Ah ha."
Two sets of eyes returned to Gladys and Sam asked hopefully, "You found it?"
"Yes, I did." she responded happily, turning the book for the brothers to see.
They saw a pretty young lady with lots of light-colored, possibly red, hair smiling slightly to one side of the camera. She seemed to be a woman with spirit and, as he studied the picture, Dean became certain that he would have liked her.
"Betty Marquette."
The brothers' heads popped up at the statement, staring at Gladys in surprise.
"The name of Lora Gregory's friend here in town," she explained further, "I told you I'd think of it in a few minutes." Gladys beamed at the young hunters.
Relieved, the brothers let themselves relax and Dean asked, "Do you know if she's still alive?"
"Why yes, I believe she is. The last I heard she was living at the Bubbling Fountain Rest Home just up the block here. I'm afraid she's not well, though. She's into her 90's and not quite all there anymore - if you know what I mean." She looked at Dean with meaning in her eyes.
"Yes, ma'am, I do," he assured her and glanced at Sam. "Shall we go see if we can find Ms. Marquette — see if we can learn anything valuable from her?"
Sam nodded his agreement, turned his dimples on Gladys and the brothers stood to leave.
"Thank you so much, Gladys, for the tea, the cookies, and the information. You've really been very helpful." He took her hand and bent over it. Dean took her hand next, repeating the motion. No one could say the Winchesters didn't know how to be chivalrous. It wasn't used often, but could be trotted out for show when needed.
Gladys waved happily as they left. "Such nice young men!" Humming, she began to clear away the dishes and straighten up, grateful for the break in her morning.
Outside and munching on a last minute stolen cookie, Dean looked around. "What do you think, should we go visit Betty now? That must be the building Gladys was talking about." He pointed his jaw across the street and further up the block from the way they had come, absently rubbing his right leg while studying the ancient building. From where they were standing, they could tell the building needed a little paint, but it had obviously once been a grand estate of some sort. There were columns in the front with bushes lining the yard.
"You up for the walk? Is your leg hurting you? Let me see." Concerned as the injury was still fairly fresh, Sam reached to check the leg in question.
Brushing his brother's hands away, Dean replied, "It's fine, Sam. I think it got stiff sitting in there talking to Gladys." Dean was anxious to go, get on with the hunt, and then just relax for a couple of days. He had to admit to himself, though, that the feel of the day had changed a little.
Glancing up the road for oncoming traffic, the brothers crossed the street mid-block, heading toward the Bubbling Fountain Rest Home to speak to Ms. Betty Marquette.
"Guess there's no confusion as to the source of the name of the place," Dean observed as they approached a beautiful fountain in the front yard of the Home, stopping to admire the water-feature for a moment. "Very peaceful," Dean said quietly, seemingly drawn into the comfort of the setting. The fountain was surrounded by a beautiful flower bed bursting with color and fragrance.
"Very," Sam agreed.
The Winchesters seemed to be in a trance for a moment, but snapped out of it simultaneously, glanced at each other uncomfortably, and moved toward the front porch of the building. Neither spoke, not really needing to; they each knew what the other was thinking. Their lives were not peaceful and the opportunity to sit on a porch, watching a bubbling fountain didn't seem even remotely possible.
After inquiring about Betty Marquette, the brothers were directed to a sunny Florida room where several residents were gathered. There was a television playing that no one was watching — most of the occupants were in wheelchairs, seemingly unaware of their surroundings. A few were playing board games or putting together jigsaw puzzles scattered around the large sunny room, but they were the exception rather than the rule.
The Home had done a marvelous job of creating a cheerful space with tall windows reaching from the large doorway all the way around to again meet the doorway on the other side, creating a feel of a glassed in sun porch. The view of the town and the grounds of the Home was breathtaking. In the back of the grounds, a line of evergreens indicated the rear boundary, with flowering bushes lining the sides of the grounds.
Sam approached an orderly, asking for Betty Marquette and was directed to a lady sitting in the far corner in the sun. She was alternately staring out the window at the flower garden and studying the puzzle in front of her. The brothers were relieved that she was not a part of the group of vacant stares.
Making their way through the maze of residents, Dean was the first to speak, "Betty Marquette?"
She looked up at him and smiled sweetly, "Yes?" Her voice was fragile with age, but her blue eyes sparkled with life and merriment. She was bent over with the burden of her years and her hand shook as she indicated that the brothers should be seated. Her gray hair was tied up in a bun that sat perkily on top of her head.
Sensing another woman with spirit, Dean took an immediate liking to her, pulling up a chair to sit close to the lady. "My name is Dean Wilbur and this is my brother Sam. We'd like to ask you a few questions, if we may." Dean's voice was gentle and sincere.
"My goodness! What could I know that would be of any interest to two such handsome young men like yourselves? On the other hand, I might be able to teach you boys a thing or two — if you're willing to learn. It's been a while since I've had any suitors, but I'm still game." The smile on her lips matched the mischievous glint in her eyes.
Dean chuckled while Sam shifted on his feet. "I'm sure you could, Betty, and I might take you up on that sometime, but we're interested in some of Harrison's history." Betty stuck out her lower lip as Dean continued, "We understand you were good friends with a former teacher — a Miss Lora Gregory. Do you remember her?"
"Oh, yes. She was a lovely girl and we got along very well. I missed her when she moved away." Her voice took on a wistful tone as she spoke.
The siblings nodded sympathetically.
Dean continued gently, "I can imagine how you felt, Betty. It's really hard when someone you care so much about leaves you." Dean flicked his eyes in Sam's direction without making eye contact. He'd needed to say that to Betty, but he didn't want Sam to think he still held Stanford against him. Sam touched his brother's shoulder, communicating to him his understanding. As Dean continued with Betty, Sam squeezed his shoulder and let go. Dean nodded in acknowledgement.
"Did you hear from her after she left? Were there any cards or letters to let you know how she was doing?"
Betty brightened up immediately, "Yes, I did. We corresponded for many years until her death about ten years ago." The light dimmed in Betty's eyes for a brief moment, but as she looked at the brothers, she smiled. "Nothing lasts forever, does it, boys? We have to make the most of what we have, cherish our loved ones as long as we can while we still have them with us, don't we? You boys are brothers, so I'm sure you understand that." Her eyes went from one to the other.
This time, their eyes actually made contact, locking for a moment before Dean turned back to Betty with a smile. "Yes, ma'am. Samantha, here can be a pain sometimes, but he's my bro. Ow!" Dean ducked, swatting at the hand that had hit him on the back of the head.
The older hunter made a face at his brother and Sam squinted in return as Dean turned back to continue with Betty.
"I'm sorry to ask, but we heard a rumor that Lora might have been expecting a baby when she left town. Do you know anything about that?" Dean's eyes were kind as he laid a hand on hers.
Betty looked back and forth between the brothers with doubt in her eyes. She wasn't sure she could trust these young men, whom she had just met after all, with this information. The siblings waited patiently as she wrestled with her decision. Finally, she seemed to make up her mind. A small smile crossed her lips as she seemed to sit up a little straighter and clasped her hands in her lap.
"Lora was expecting when she left town. There were some events that took place in the town toward the end of the school year that caused her to resign and leave town when school was over. She had hoped that it hadn't been noticed, but I heard the rumors and we were keeping in touch…" Betty gave a resigned shrug.
Sam asked the next question, quietly, "Did she keep the baby?"
"Yes, she did. A beautiful little girl. In those days, a lady in her 'condition' was a scandalous situation and she couldn't go home to Boston, so she went to Philadelphia. Her family had disowned her, so she had to make up a story about a dead husband and was able to get a job teaching in the elementary school. She had to change her name, but things were not easy for her at all. She was ultimately able to support herself and the baby; raised her to be a lady, as well."
Dean leaned a little more toward her as he asked, "Do you know what happened to her here?"
Becoming angry, Betty made a fist. "Mr. Harrison, who owned the boarding house, raped her! She told me that he forced himself on her and threatened her life if she made a fuss. She was devastated, but a young woman alone in those days didn't really have much recourse. She was afraid of him. When I think of all that poor girl went through, it makes me ill."
Dean put a hand out to gently take one of hers. His voice was quiet when he spoke, "We know that there were disappearances before Lora came to town to teach, were there any more after she left?"
Betty shook her head, "There were no more after that. Everyone thought they were because of a curse on the mansion. No one ever stayed there again. No one disappeared from anyplace else in town either."
The brothers nodded simultaneously. "Any idea what happened to Mr. Harrison? We understand that he disappeared, too."
"No idea, but I know what I wanted to happen to him!" Betty's voice began to lose its fragility and neither brother doubted that this small lady had been a formidable woman in her day.
Dean patted the hand that he was still holding as he began to stand. "Thank you, Betty. You've been a big help. Would it be alright if we came to visit you again if we have time?" Dean's smile was brilliant as he gallantly leaned over to kiss her hand.
Betty instantly giggled shyly, ducking her head down and glancing up at him. "I'd love that. It's not often this old lady gets such charming company."
Dean shook his head, "You are so far from old, Betty, I'd like to take you dancing one night while we're here."
Betty's face turned a bright crimson as she pulled her hand out of Dean's grasp and picked up her fan to fan herself. "Just dancing?"
Dean laughed and winked, blowing her another kiss as the siblings turned to take their leave. "I'll leave that up to you."
Sam chuckled at his older brother as they walked out onto the sunny front porch and paused to look again at the fountain.
"What?"
"What, what!?
What are you chuckling at, Sammy?"
"You, Dean. You really poured it on back there. Poor Betty never stood a chance!"
The older brother glanced down the street toward the Historical Society and the corner they would need to turn to get back to the Impala. "I didn't pour anything on, Sam. I really believe that if we were in a different time and met up, well — who knows? I think she was a strong woman in her prime and I probably would have really liked her."
Sam nodded. All amusement left Sam as he realized that Dean was serious. Dean could have any woman he wanted, but they were all one-night stands. He never seemed to find someone that he wanted to be with forever. The one woman he'd really felt that way about had freaked out when she found out what his job was; in fact, she hadn't even believed him. Sam's heart ached for his brother, but also realized that their job didn't really allow for long-term relationships; it was too dangerous. Sam, himself, had had first hand experience of that fact.
The younger man clapped his brother on the shoulder, "How's your leg, Dean? Can you make it back to the car or do you want me to go get it and pick you up here?"
"Nah, I'm good. Let's go." They stepped off the porch and headed back to the car.
By the time they got back to the Impala, Dean was beginning to limp much more noticeably. His pace slowed only slightly, but Sam adjusted to the new speed without comment. They took their normal positions in the car; the taller man knew there was no way his brother would admit to not being able to drive.
A few minutes later, the black beauty pulled into the lot of the motel in front of their room and Dean killed the engine. Sam started to open his door, but stopped as he noticed that his brother hadn't moved; he was staring straight ahead with a slight frown on his face.
"Dean?"
Nothing.
"Dean?" A little louder.
"What?" Startled, he looked at Sam.
"We getting out or what?"
"Uh, yeah, sure, Sammy." He opened his door and got out stiffly, stretching and visually checking around the area before heading to their room.
"You want to tell me where you were just then?" a note of concern in his voice.
Dean shook his head, "No place, really, I was just thinking about this case and wondering how we're going to take care of it. Any ideas?"
Sam shook his head, "None come to mind, but I think I'd like to take another look at your leg."
"It's fine, Sam." Dean closed the door and collapsed onto his bed. It was just after noon, but he was very tired — all he wanted was some peace and a nap without a little brother nagging.
"Uh huh. That's why you're limping and walking like an old man. At least take these." Sam held out some painkillers and a water bottle.
"Yes, ma'am." Dean dutifully took the proffered pills and shoved them into his mouth. Taking the bottle, he gulped half of it in one go and gave it back to his brother who sat it on the night stand.
Dean dragged his exhausted body over to the other bed and gently lay down, allowing Sam to hover and help with the arranging of the pillows. "'Night, Mom."
Shaking his head and grinning at his brother, Sam replied, "'Night, Dean." He closed the heavy curtain to cut out the daylight and opened his laptop.
WWW
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