Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I own neither Sam nor Dean...
Warning: About the same.
A/N: Sorry for the delay in updates. I meant to post this Friday, but by the time I got home, was down (I was so frustrated that I almost threw my keyboard at the computer like an angry German kid on YouTube - which wasn't working for me either - and screaming rather innapropriate things that shall not be repeated). Then, Saturday, I was out until late and didn't have a chance to update. So, finally on Sunday night, here it is! Enjoy!
Chapter Six: Bad News
Sam woke abruptly to the sound of knocking on the motel door. He glanced over at Dean's bed to see it empty except for a single piece of motel stationary. Sam skimmed over what was written, not really giving it more than a cursory glance. He knew what it said; same message as always. Gone out for coffee, be back soon.
The knocking on the door continued. "Coming," Sam called.
He opened the door to see a very disheveled looking Danny. His long-ish (almost shoulder length) blonde hair was extremely messy, his t-shirt had some sort of stain on it and the jeans looked like they had seen better days. Oh, and his socks didn't match.
Danny was usually a relatively tidy person. He wasn't overly concerned about his appearance, but he always put some effort in. Looking the way he did was odd to say the least. The only other time that Sam had seen him even look close to this, he was half asleep, had a massive hangover, and was in a hurry because he'd already missed the first half of class.
But Sam's old college buddy didn't look half asleep or hung-over now. His brown eyes were very lucid and shining with that mischievous excitement that defined Daniel Burrows.
"Sam, turn the t.v. to the news!" Danny nearly shouted.
"Huh?" was the all that Sam could muster.
"The news, dip-shit!" Danny said, "Look, I know that I probably should have called instead of coming over like this, but...just do it, Sam!"
Sam was still a little groggy from sleep and it took a moment for Danny's words to penetrate the fog surrounding his brain. When they did, he slowly walked back over to the bed, picked the remote up off the nightstand, and turned the t.v. on. When he found the news channel, he snapped out of his sleepy state in a hurry.
"Ms. Thomas suffered a few minor burns that can not be explained. Both her children were unharmed," a young anchor said.
Then, the familiar face of Jennifer appeared on the screen. "There were these two guys," she said, "One of them I recognized from the bar earlier. They shot at the man who broke into my house and chased him away! I don't remember a lot of what happened, but those guys saved my life!"
Next, police sketches of Sam and Dean were shown. Sam groaned. The pictures weren't great, but they were passable.
"Yeah," Danny said quietly, "Didn't think you'd be too happy about that. Even with Jesse, you were a pretty private guy. They've been playing this story all morning and talking about the two guys who saved a woman and then fled the scene. The police want to bring them in for questioning," he gave Sam a pointed look, "You know, when we gave you the nickname 'Superman', we were only joking. We didn't really expect you to go out and fight crime."
Sam nodded, feeling numb. Well, if this wasn't just perfect! Why couldn't they ever catch a break?
Just then, the motel door opened and Dean walked in, locking the door behind him, "Sam, we gotta' go! That, lady, Jennifer, she-"
"I know, Dean."
"You do? How d-" Dean glanced over at Danny, giving him a brief glare and muttering a surprised "Oh".
"Two more fires occurred last night-"
All three men turned their attention to the television.
"Kara Brookes and her six month old daughter burned to death in their own home as did Alicia and Benjamin Roswell and their two sons..."
Sam felt frustrated tears prick his eyes. Despite all their efforts, despite Dean almost dying, whatever they were now hunting had murdered again.
"Sam..." Dean said softly, bringing his attention back to the t.v.
The screen now showed an aerial view of a backyard outside one of the houses. Burned into the otherwise green grass was a clearly printed sentence.
"Payback's a bitch," Danny read quietly.
Dean seemed to come back to himself; "We have to go, Sam. We have to leave town."
"What? Why?"
"You saw the police sketches! Someone's bound to search for information on the two of us and they'll find our files! Now, the last psycho-cop to arrest me may now be dead and may have screwed the case to hell, but I'm betting they'll still come after us and I'm not particularly eager to repeat the experience."
"Dean," Sam said, "If we leave now, more women could die."
"And if we don't," Dean said, "More women could still die and we could go to jail."
"But we can't just run away, Dean!" Sam yelled, "We have to try!"
"You think I'm happy about ditching this job, Sam?" Dean demanded, "Well, I'm not! I just don't see any other choice!"
"You could go," Sam said quietly.
"What?"
"You could leave town and I could stay and finish the job," Sam said, "The police couldn't hold me and I'm less vulnerable to this thing anyway."
Dean shook his head, "Not an option."
"Why?"
"It's too much of a risk, Sammy. I'm not letting you do this alone."
"Well then, what are we going to do? I'm not leaving, Dean."
Dean's expression softened ever so slightly, "We'll lay low for a while, until we finish this."
Sam looked at his older brother, hope in his eyes. Dean just nodded in acknowledgement. The younger Winchester felt a wave of love for Dean.
"Hello? Anybody going to tell me what the hell is going on?" Danny cried, clearly annoyed at having been shut out.
Dean shot him an angry look as if to ask why he was still here. Sam opened his mouth to speak. Just as he was wondering what possible excuse was going to come out of his mouth, an unbearable pain shot through his head, causing him to cry out.
"Sammy!" Dean shouted.
A/N: Ah no! Another vision in front of Danny? The boys are going to need to do a little explaining...
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