Elements of doubt
Chapter 2: Fire
Something's trying to kill more than just Deans' love life. Chapter 2: How did the whole town end up thinking Dean was gay?
Disclaimer: Don't own them just play with them.
Melissa: I was kind of mean wasn't it, I just hope the next chapter isn't to disappointing now.
Jjackles: I love mischievous Dean to but somehow I think his pranks are going to come back and bite him in the ass.
Poppyflake, thanks as always and crazy4jensen I hope this is quick enough for you.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Swearing through gritted teeth, Sam finally managed to get the door open using his head and one elbow. Backing into the room he dropped everything he was carrying onto the rooms' tiny table, more interested in getting his coffee soaked shirt off than stopping the second coffee from spilling across the table. Holding the steaming material away from his skin he slowly eased the off first the shirt and then his T-shirt, hissing in pain he frowned at the angry red skin underneath. He needed to get some cold water onto the burns before they started to blister; glancing towards the bathroom he gave the closed door a disgusted look. 'So that's where the idiot was.' Sam growled in annoyance. 'God help him if Dean had found something worse to amuse himself than that vibrating bed he was going to hand him over to the police himself.'
Heading towards the bathroom he angrily pushed the door open, if Dean was in there that was just too bad. Keeping his head down he moved straight to the sink, a little surprised Dean wasn't already cursing him; he turned on the cold tap and stuck his arm under the cooling flow, groaning in ecstasy as relief washed over him. His temper cooled slightly and he almost smiled when the sounds of Metallic reached his ears. If the music was this loud for him, it would probably take an earthquake to shake his brother out of whatever heavy metal induced trance he had put himself into, a quick look in the mirror showed him one Deans feet resting up by the tap.
"Dean, grab a towel or something." He picked one of the towels up from the countertop and threw it over his shoulder towards where he thought his brothers head should be, fully expecting an immediate cry of indignation and possibly anger, he became instantly worried when he didn't get any response.
Turning around, what he saw froze him to the spot. Dean's body was sprawled indecorously in the bath, limbs splayed out, head under water, eyes open and staring. Ridiculously Sam's first thought was that it was all a joke. That Dean would jump up any second now laughing at the scare he had given his brother, just like he had when he was seven, but he didn't move.
Snapping out of his daze Sam grabbed his brother under the arms intending to pull him out of the water, but if lifting an unconscious (he wouldn't use the word dead) man was hard, lifting a wet one was a hundred times worse and Dean flopped out of his hands like a wet fish, hitting the side of the tub and slipping back under the water. "Shit!" Sam nearly panicked but then training kicked in and he grasped his brother's wrists hauling him over the side of the bath and onto the floor, ignoring the freezing water and the way his brother's limp form smacked off first the tub and then the floor.
Pressing two fingers to his brother throat he lowered his cheek to Deans open mouth checking for signs of life that he already knew weren't there. Then trying to think rationally Sam assessed the situation, he didn't know how long Dean had been underwater for but the water had been cold, barely above freezing. It wasn't natural and what it implied scared the shit out of Sam but it could mean his brother still had a chance. Clinging to what his father had taught them about ice drowning he yanked the plug out of the bath and started the hot tap running. 'They're not dead until they're warm and dead.' His father's words rang in his ears as if he was speaking to him from beyond the grave, giving him hope.
Pinching his brothers nose closed he tilted back his head and started CPR, forcing himself into a steady rhythm as he once more tried to come up with a plan, but in all his planning never once did he consider calling an ambulance. He knew for a fact that the nearest emergency facility was over fifty miles away. If he couldn't get Dean breathing again by the time they got here his brother would already be dead but if he did there was no doubt in his mind that such a strange accident would spark an investigation and with his brothers face still plastered all over the news, it would be a very short one. Even if Dean made it as far as trail, the best he could hope for was life in prison, no one would ever believe he was innocent, the truth was just too unbelievable.
The room had begun to fill up with steam, so Sam threw a couple of bath towels into the tub scalding him for the second time that day. This time he didn't even flinch. Looking around the tiny bathroom he spotted one of their first aid kits. Sam silently thanked God for Dean's habit of always storing one within easy reach. Trying not to disrupt his rhythm too much he ripped open the bag, digging through the strange contents till he found what he was looking for. Sticking the vile and syringe to one side, he bit his lip as he came to a decision. Stopping CPR he grabbed the two now scalding hot towels and dropped them onto his brother's chest, stretching them out so they tucked under his armpits, around his neck and anywhere else blood flow was close to the surface. Then before he could chicken out he administered a shoot of adrenalin. It wasn't something he had ever had to do before and he really didn't know what to expect. They only really stocked the stuff as a precaution in case they came up against something with a nasty bite. Quickly Sam checked Dean's pulse, forcing himself to wait longer than he normally would, as his brother's body was still terribly cold but when he couldn't feel anything after almost a minute he started up CPR again, once more fighting down the need to panic.
Sam was just about to start his second round of rescue breathing, when a small sound reached his ears, a faint gurgling coming from his brothers throat, flipping him onto his side he held his breath as Deans body weakly tried to expel the last of the water that had invaded his lungs, the water expelled Dean took in a single heaving breath and then fell silent.
The silence nearly pushed Sam over the edge and only the faint whisper of his brother's breath against his cheek stopped him loosing it all together. Placing two fingers on the side of his throat he was further reassured by the pulse he found there, it was faint and far too slow but it was there and right now that was all that mattered to him.
Wrapping Dean in one of the remaining bath towels he pulled his brother into a fireman's lift and headed into the bedroom. He needed to get Dean warm and he was too scared to put him in the bath in case he wound up drowning him again. Struggling over to the nearest bed, he pulled back the covers and deposited his brothers limp form in the center, then pulling the covers from the other bed to add to the pile. He kicked off his shoes and crawled in behind his brother, pulling him close so Deans back came to rest up against his chest. Trying to get comfortable he slipped one arm under Dean's head and the other around his chest, placing a shaky hand over his brother's heart he took what little reassurance he could from the movements he felt there. Within seconds he was shivering, it was like hugging an ice cube, Dean's body seemed to be trying to leach the heat out of his very core but he held on.
An hour later his brother was finally beginning to show signs of warming up, his body shivering weakly but Dean still hadn't given any sign of trying to wake up and that scared the hell out of Sam. Now that the initial panic was over, the implications of what had just happened began to settle in. Try as he might he could only come up with two scenarios for how this would play out.
Scenario one, the water turned to near ice instantaneously stopping his heart and constricting his throat before he ever got the chance to truly drown. The cold protected his brain and he hadn't even got enough water in his lungs to be at risk of secondary drowning. Dean woke pissed and raring to kill whatever had done this to him.
Scenario two, Dean went down fighting. The cold was an afterthought. Even if he did recover from the complications of drowning, his brain had been starved of oxygen and in all likelihood he'd be a vegetable or at least severely disabled.
Sam knew which of the two scenarios he preferred but who was he kidding, Dean never did anything without a fight.
Feeling pessimistic he hugged his brother a little tighter. "It's O.K Dean, whatever happens I'm going to be there. I won't leave you to face this alone." He whispered to his brother, trying to reassure them both that they could cope with whatever was to come.
Soon though despite his determination to stand vigil over his ailing brother Sam's own exhaustion kicked in as his body came off the adrenalin high it had been running on since finding his brother and he fell asleep, snoring softly into his brother's shoulder.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Elly Petters giggled nervously as she followed her friend Donna up to room 12. It wasn't as if they were doing anything wrong. They were supposed to be cleaning the rooms. They were just doing it a little early. So if they happened to run into the two good looking young men who were staying there, that would just be a coincidence wouldn't it.
"You do it, it was your idea." Whispered Donna; shoving the keycard into her hand.
Elly opened the door as quietly as possible no longer sure this was such a good idea, but what she saw next soon changed her mind. The room was a mess, she could see a shirt and T-shirt scattered across the floor along with a pair of boots, obviously somebody had been in a hurry to get out of them and had banged up against the table in the process judging by the amount of coffee split there, but what really made her eyes pop out of her head was the sight of the two clearly naked men curled up in bed together.
Dropping the towels she was carrying on the small table by the side of the door she quietly closed the door. Her face flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and disappointment. Why did all the good looking ones have to be gay? Then she smiled catching Donna's eye. Just wait until they told the others.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
The feeling of movement dragged Sam up from the depths of sleep. "Go back to sleep Jess." He groaned only to have an elbow strike him in the ribs. Since when have Jess's elbows been that sharp?
Then the memories of the previous night's events slammed into with the force of a sledge hammer, bringing panic with it as he realized what was happening. Dean was choking, seemingly unaware of his surroundings. Pulling his brother into a sitting position he supported him as he began to hack up the phlegm that had collected in his water irritated lungs overnight.
Sam silently cursed himself he should have stayed awake, Sam used one hand to support his brother. While using the other to rub small circles on his back he tried to encourage him to breathe.
"Dean."
"Dean."
"Talk to me man." Sam was beginning to get more than a little worried that Dean wasn't giving any signs of even being aware he was there. Could he really be brain damaged? He thought with a feeling of rising panic.
Finally the coughing stopped and Dean slumped back against him.
"Sam?" Dean's voice was small and horse, but that single word was enough to make his heart leap. If his brother could still recognize him maybe he was going to be alright.
"Yeah, buddy it's me. Just breathe O.K."
Dean did his best to comply but he still needed to know what was going on. "W.. wha…What ha..ppened?" He gasped.
"You drowned Dean." His brother gave him an incredulous look; he didn't remember any of this. "You drowned in the bath." Sam explained patiently not liking how confused Dean was. "Something attacked you and you drown in the bath."
Memories began to flood back and Sam felt his brother stiffen in his arms, before beginning to struggle free of Sam as something else occurred to him.
"Sam where are my clothes and why are you in bed with me?" He was starting to feel panicked and he had the distinct impression me was missing something important.
"You were suffering from hypothermia Dean; I had to get you warm." The younger Winchester tried to reason with his obviously agitated brother.
"I'm naked Sam." Dean yelled his voice getting a little high pitched.
"You are not naked Dean." Sam yelled back more than a little annoyed. How the hell could he be focusing on something as trivial as this when he had nearly drowned?
"Dude a towel doesn't count."
"Forgive me for not worrying more that the world might get a glimpse of little Dean." His voice dripped with sarcasm.
Sam's anger cut through the haze that had been fogging his mind like a knife. His brother was right if their positions had been reversed the last thing he would have been worrying about would have been protecting his brothers' modesty. He was lucky Sam had thought to do what he did. Taking a good look at his bother he sighed, the kid looked like crap. Clearly whatever had happened while he was out had taken a heavy toll on the younger Winchester.
Forcing himself to relax Dean tried to lighten the mood. "Dude less of the little. O.K"
Sam relaxed fractionally accepting his brother words for the apology they were. Getting up he pulled some clothes out of his brother's bag and throw them at him, trying not to laugh when Dean insisted on getting changed under the covers.
Dean just rolled his eyes at his brothers quickly covered laugh, not wanting to explain that he still felt like he had been running around naked in a blizzard and that was why he wasn't quite ready to give up the warmth of the bed and not any sense false modesty.
Sitting back on the bed, Sam handed his brother a handful of tissues when he started coughing again. Deans breathing still sounded wet and more than a little harsh.
Waiting until his brother had finished he asked. "Dean, do you know what happened?"
Dean considered it for a moment and then shrugged. "Can't tell you much, I was in the bath and some kind of invisible force pushes me under." Pulling a face at the unpleasant memory and added. "I'll tell you one thing though, whatever it was it was having fun."
"Why do you say that?"
"Cause it let me up a few times before it finished the job."
Sam paled at the thought of what his brother had been through, he must have been terrified.
"Sam, don't sweat it. I'm here and I'm O.K."
Sam snorted at that, Dean nearly drowns, no does drown and he's still the one doing the reassuring.
Wanting to change the subject Dean spoke again. "You better go check us in for another couple of nights. I think this is going to take a while."
"No way, I'm not leaving you alone with that thing still out there. It attacked you here Dean, in our room."
Seeing the worry in his brother eyes Dean relented. "Fine, I'll come with you. I could do with some food anyway."
Sam scowled but didn't say anything. He really didn't think his brother should be running around just yet, but then Dean had always been stubborn. Instead he got up and started getting dressed. Stripping off the jeans he had slept in he pulled a face at the red indentations they had left in his flesh, going to sleep in them probably hadn't been one of his better ideas.
Five minutes later they were ready, although strangely enough neither of them had suggested using the bathroom. If Dean was honest with himself that was part of the reason he wanted to head out to the diner, he really needed the bathroom.
Grabbing his keys he headed towards the door, before stopping and giving his brother a funny look. "Sam when did we get fresh towels?"
Sam paled.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Walking into the motel reception behind his brother Dean leant up against the doorframe enjoying the feel of the sun on his face as Sam dealt with the near geriatric manager.
Requesting the extra nights, Sam was fishing around in his pocket for the correct credit card when the manager suddenly spoke. "You don't have to lie you know?"
The younger Winchesters head shot up at the manager's words and he could almost feel Dean tense behind him. "I mean we may look a little conservative around here, but we're really quite liberal." Now Sam was really confused. What on earth was the man on about? "If you boys want to change to a King sized room nobody's going to mind." Sam's jaw dropped and he could hear a rhythmic thumping which may or may not have been his heart, as he finally worked out what the man was saying, he honestly didn't know whether he should be relieved or shocked.
"No that's fine." He muttered, ducking his head in embarrassment.
"O.K son but the offers open." Replied the man; swiftly completing the transaction.
Turning quickly away, he finally spotted the source of the thumping he was still hearing. Dean was standing in the doorway rhythmically smacking his head off the frame.
Grabbing his brother by the back of the neck he quickly steered him outside.
"Dude, get off me. You're just making it look worse." Dean angrily shrugged off his brothers' hand. "You could have set him straight you know." He accused.
"Dude what was I supposed to say?" Asked Sam, more than a little ticked off as well, it's not as if he was enjoying this. "My brother went hypothermic when an evil spirit drowned him in your bath tub, so I had to warm him up? Who's going to believe that?"
Dean couldn't argue with that but he didn't have to be happy about it. "You're supposed to be the brains of this outfit, I'm sure you could have come up with something. You were going to be a lawyer for God's sake."
"You could have said something too, but you didn't. So let's just drop it." Replied Sam, climbing into the Impala and angrily slamming the door, an act which earned him a withering look from his brother.
"Fine by me."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Walking out of the diners small restroom Dean, smiled at a couple of college girls who were sitting at the counter. The girls immediately started giggling and pointing to Sam who had taken up residence in one of the booths, giving Dean a bad feeling. Surely things couldn't have got this out of hand already?
Feeling more than a little uncomfortable he headed back towards Sam only to see him pull out his laptop and switch it on. Making a mad dash across the room as he realized just how inappropriate his joke had just become. He came close to trapping Sam's fingers he closed the laptop so fast.
"Dude what is with you!?" Yelped Sam; yanking his fingers out of the way.
Dean plastered on his best smile and grinned at his brother. "You shouldn't read at the table Sammy, it's not good manners."
Sam just stared at him as if he had just gone crazy. Maybe he would have to reassess his opinion on the possibility of brain damage.
The elder Winchester slipped into the booth opposite his brother and began to shift uncomfortably. He seemed to have a lot of aches and pains that he couldn't remember having before. Pulling up the sleeve of his shirt to examine one particularly sore spot, he was more than a little surprised to find a large purple bruise.
"Yeah.. Sorry about that." Dean looked up at his brother who was looking more than a little contrite.
"Sam what did you do to me?" He asked in a low dangerous voice.
Sam blushed, looking anywhere other than his brother before clearing his throat nervously. "I may have dropped you." He said quietly hiding behind the menu. Dean just stared at him open mouthed. "More than once." He finished in a whisper.
Dean just stared at him for a minute before complaining. "Dude you bruised my ass." He sounded more than a little petulant.
"Is there anything I can get you boys?" Both of their heads whipped up to face the smiling waitress who was now standing by their table, her relaxed stance making it obvious that she hadn't just walked over. Sam blinked owlishly at her. Why the hell did this keep happening to them today? They were supposed to be Hunters for fuck sake!
"Coffee and a sausage and bacon sandwich to go." Dean answered; his voice breaking oddly as he spoke.
"Make that two." Sighed Sam, this was turning into one hell of a day.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Dean finished his sandwich and rubbed his greasy hands down the front of his jeans.
"Man, that's gross."
Dean just grinned and threw his empty coffee cup at a trash can which sat close to the Impalas bonnet where the two of them were sitting staring out over the park.
"This is all your fault you know."
Sam collapsed in on himself, Dean was right. This was all his fault. He had forgotten everything their father had taught him about securing your location even before he had found his brother, hell he hadn't even remembered to lock the door properly. It could have been something much worse than the maid sneaking into their room. He couldn't believe he hadn't even woken up.
"Sam?" Dean was surprised and worried by his brother's reaction; he'd been expecting some smart ass comeback for his comment, not this.
"I'm sorry."
"Sorry for what Sam?" Sam sounded so young and broken it nearly ripped his heart out.
"For this, for all of this. I should have taken better care of you."
Dean pulled in a deep breath as all the pieces suddenly fell into place, sometimes he didn't need to be psychic to read his brothers mind.
"Don't do this to yourself kid. You were exhausted. We'd been on the road for three days straight and with Meg being the party animal she is I doubt you were getting much sleep before that." Dean fixed his brother with a penetrating stare. "We're only human Sam, whatever Dad might have thought."
"Still…"
Dean cut him off. "Can it Sam. You did fine. I'm alive aren't I?"
"As for this, This is going to be one of those things..." Dean grinned trying his best to get a response out of his brother. "You're never going to tell anybody about or I'll kick your ass."
Sam smiled despite himself; his brother could be such an idiot at times.
"We good?" Asked Dean; giving him a rough smack on the leg.
Sam nodded.
"Come on then, we're burning daylight. I want to waste this thing so we can get out of here before my reputation's ruined forever." He got up and walked around to the driver's side door. "I'll drop you off at the Sheriffs and start checking out Andrew Groman's work, see if I can come up with any more clues."
"No way man, we are not splitting up." Snapped Sam, suddenly worried.
"I'm fine Sammy."
"Yeah Dean, that's why you're wearing about three jumpers. You look like the Michelin man!" Sam glowered at his brother, he didn't even mention that Deans breathing still sounded wet and he kept coughing. "What if that "thing" comes back and tries to finish the job?"
Dean face softened slightly at his brother's obvious concern. "Look Sam I'll admit that thing caught me off guard, but that's not going to happen again, I won't let it. Besides there has always been a couple of days gap between attacks in the past. We should be taking advantage of that to gather as much information as possible, and as I remember you were the one who wanted to keep me out of the Sheriffs direct line of sight."
Sam relented. "Fine but we check in on the hour. No exceptions." He insisted. "I mean it Dean, no exceptions."
"Fine, Mom." Bitched his brother, but Sam knew he would do it.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
"Sam." Sheriff Politska smiled warmly at Sam as he entered her office. "What can I do for you this fine day? How's that brother of yours?" She asked giving him an amused wink to take any sting out of the silent accusation.
Sam blushed clearly the town gossip network was in full swing; Dean was going to hate this. "He's fine, thanks." Mumbled Sam shaking the Sheriffs hand, before taking the chair she gestured to. "I just wanted to ask you about some of the accidents you have been having in town lately."
The sheriff gave him an appraising look, her face shrewd. "The accidents have been happening for about six months now, maybe longer. There's no way of knowing but that's when things started escalating to the point it became noticeable. I'd like to say that the town's just having a run of bad luck…" She shrugged and Sam finished for her. "But it just doesn't feel right."
"No it doesn't, but all the things that have happened have to be accidents. I wouldn't even know where to start to fake some of them, there's just too many variables, Still." She paused for a moment and pinched the bridge of her nose. Obviously the Sheriff had been thinking a lot about this lately. "There are always two people involved in the accident and their always close, father daughter, best friends, an engaged couple" or brothers added Sam silently. "That sort of thing, sometimes it's almost like someone's putting one of them in danger to see how the other one will react. Also the accident always has something elemental about it. It's never just a car accident or an electrocution."
Sam had to admit he was impressed there wasn't many people could even begin to put a pattern like this together, especially if they didn't have a clue about the possibilities the supernatural world opened up to a killer.
"Apart from that there is no connection between them other than they are all locals." She finished and gave him a steady look. "Sam can I ask why you want to know about this?"
"People started talking after the accident yesterday; it just seemed a little strange. You know all these accidents in such a small town." He shrugged and continued by way of explanation. "I do a bit of freelance journalism sometimes and it seems like there could be a story here. Even if it's just a filler piece about a small towns run of bad luck, but to be honest I think it's something else. I just don't know what yet."
She sighed. "It may be that this thing, whatever it is could benefit from a new set of eyes. So I won't stop you, but if you boys get in over your heads, I'm your first phone call. Got it?"
Sam nodded and smiled, he was definitely beginning to like this woman.
"Now get," She smiled. "Some of us have got work to do."
Heading out of the station he looked at his watch and seeing that it was almost one. He called his brother. "Just checking in, I'm going to head over to Jims and check on him and Sarah then I'll meet you at the pottery, it's just down the road and I could do with the air."
Smiling at Deans grumbling agreement he hung up and headed out.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Marklands pottery and fine glass looked like nothing more than a couple of small warehouses, with a tiny gallery attached but Dean had to admit some of the stuff they produced was really good. He was staring at a clay sculpture of a teenage girl while he waited to see the owner. She was sitting with her elbows resting on her knees staring off into the distance with a wistful look in her eyes.
"That's Chris Andy's daughter, he always did his best work with her as his model." A man spoke from behind him, his voice soft and sad.
Dean turned around to greet the man who had spoken; he looked to be in late thirties and was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. "Mr. Markland?" He smiled.
"Please call me Mac." He returned Deans hand shake.
"James."
"Eileen told me you're here to do a piece on Andy for Ceramic art." The man smiled sadly at that. "Funny how artists are always more interesting once their dead. Still it's nice to know that at least part of him is going to live on." Under normal circumstances Dean would have just figured that he was just trying to increase the value of any pieces he still had in his possession, but this guy sounded entirely genuine as if he had lost a friend rather than an employee. "Come on. I'll show you his studio. It's the best place to get to know him."
They walked into a large studio dominated by a giant walk in kiln. Looking around Dean winced at the sight of some of the pieces sitting out on the bench. "Dreadful aren't they?" Laughed Jim; "Andy taught a couple of classes up at St. Mary's, these are their pieces. It would seem that rich debutants don't make the best artists. Whatever they would like to think"
Dean smiled at that.
"Here look at this." He walked over to the kiln and patted it. "This is his own design; it took him two years to get it right." The man noted with a hint of pride at his friends stubbornness. "It holds a more constant temperature than the old ones and heats up more steadily, so we lose fewer of the pieces during firing." He gave Dean a sad look. "I doubt we'll ever us it again. It takes forever to heat up because it heats up real slow at first to let all the water evaporate, before the real firing starts, so we only ever use it for the one off pieces."
Trying to get the man back on track Dean spoke. "The accident that killed him it was pretty strange. Can you think of anyone who would want to harm him or his daughter?"
Mac gave him a funny look, but the shrugged obviously figuring he was just looking for an angle for his article. "No, he was a good guy, a stubborn bastard at times but one of the best." The man gave Dean a sad and slightly incredulous smile. "Can you believe he used to be a solider? A tank commander during desert storm, you wouldn't think it looking at his work would you."
Dean shook his head.
"He came here to get away from all that after his wife died. This town, his daughter were his life. I can't think of anyone who would want to hurt him."
Jim sat down at one of the benches and looked at his hands for a moment.
"I was with him; you know when the fire started. We were just standing outside just talking, next thing I know the place is ablaze. He ran inside after Chris. I should have stopped him, I know I should have but it just all happened so fast. The funny thing is as soon as he'd gone in I knew he wasn't coming out, not without Chris. He just wouldn't give up on her and well the fire was so fierce there was no way he would have made it upstairs."
He just stood there for a moment in silence obviously thinking about what he could have done differently, and then finally he spoke. "I'm going back up to the office, feel free to poke around. You can speak to Eileen if you need anything else."
He walked off and Dean headed outside to see if he could pick up a signal to call Sam, but as soon as he got outside the phone began to ring of its own accord.
"Sam." Dean answered the phone without even bothering look to see who was calling. He listened to his brother for a moment and the replied. "Fine, I'll just be poking around Andy's studio." He muttered, wanting to be getting on with things rather than hanging around a dead end.
So with nothing better to do he headed back inside and began to poke around. Finding nothing he walked over to the kiln and was peering inside when a hard shove propelled him inside. Spinning around he tried to stop the door closing, pushing against it with all his might but it wasn't enough. Pulling a flashlight he located the emergency release on the side of the door and pulled it, but nothing happened. Somewhere he could hear a Furness firing up.
Please Review. :)
