Chapter 5: The Finale

Ian, that was the name of the young man that killed Dean Winchester. And every day he was haunted by the memory. It'd been a accident, he hadn't meant to shoot Dean. But when Dean approached him as he calmly asked Ian to put the gun down, he panicked and pulled the trigger. It was too late to do anything so he took off.

Several times Ian had thought of turning himself into the police but the more and more he did think about it, he knew he couldn't. Ian didn't want to spend his life in a jail cell for an accident. It was awful what had happened to the man and he regretted it, but there was no way he could go to jail. He wasn't built for that shit.

For months Ian had been living in a crap hole apartment. He lost his job at the gas station after he was caught stealing cigarettes. He scored another brief job at a delicatessen but only after a few weeks, they fired him for always being late. Ian didn't want to be like this. A bum. But that was how he was brought up. His father had told him that he was worthless. That he would never amount to anything in life. His mother ditched when he was a baby so he never knew her. His father was an alcoholic and abused Ian. He couldn't count the many times that he was punched in the jaw or thrown into the wall during his adolescently. So with years and years of mental and physical abuse, Ian grew to believe that he was exactly what his father said, a worthless scumbag.

He became so desperate for money that he started mugging people. Shortly after the incident with Dean, Ian swiped a gun from a local pawn shop and followed others on the street. He shook as he held the gun in their faces and demanded money. And the pathetic thing about it was, Ian used the money he stole to buy drugs. He was a hardcore addict. It consumed him more than the logical thought to actually get a job, keep it and make a better living for himself. Ian was a loser and a killer and he knew it.

He seen the news reports on his tiny basic cable TV set about his muggings. The people he robbed from alerted the police and now, there was even a sketch out on him. Ian decided he needed to start wearing a ski mask. He couldn't stop what he was doing, he needed money. He didn't like it either but how else would he get by in life? He was hollow and hated himself so much that he didn't know of any better way.

So now Ian was following a woman down the city street as he waited for the right time to get her. He spotted the woman coming out of the grocery store on the corner as she counted her money. It was a wad of cash and Ian salivated at the thought of getting his hands on it. He could score some major blow with that amount of green. He looked around unaware that he was being followed himself.

Sam hadn't been parked too far away from the grocery store as he watched Ian stalk around the outside of the store like an animal waiting for it's next prey. Once he saw him watching the woman that came out and began to follow her, Sam got out of the Impala. He tucked his 9mm black Glock into the pocket of his canvas coat and followed behind.

Sam kept a few feet of distance between himself and Ian. He didn't know the man's name and he didn't care. Sam slipped his hands into his pockets as his fingers brushed over the handle of his gun.

Once they reached the end of the street Sam stopped. Ian had moved up, pulled a ski mask on and caught the woman's arm. He saw him whisper something sharply into her ear and pull her away down an abandoned alley between two empty office buildings. Sam slipped his gun out.

Ian dragged the scared woman into the alley and then, pushed her against the wall. He aimed the gun at her face. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. She was young too, she didn't appear much older than Ian himself.

"If you scream I will kill you" Ian said, his voice muffled through the mask.

"Please…" the woman begged.

"Give me your wallet"

She held her hands up "okay…just…don't shoot…"

Ian put his finger on the trigger "give me your goddamn wallet now!" he shouted.

The woman cried as she zipped open her purse. Her hands shook as she did this. Ian scowled and grabbed the woman's shoulder. He forced her back against the wall.

Sam came up from behind Ian. He tore his mask off and grabbed him by the back of his head. He yanked his hair and pulled him away from the poor woman. Ian cried out as Sam tore strands of his stringy hair from it's roots. The woman look wide eyed at Sam.

"Go, get out of here" he told her. She wasted no time on running away.

Sam shoved Ian hard into the side of a dumpster. Ian raised his gun up but Sam quickly reached down and snapped Ian's hand back, breaking it. Then he snatched the gun away.

Ian writhed as he cradled his broken hand, he looked up at Sam "please…I just needed some money, I wasn't going to hurt her…" he said.

Sam had a wild look in his eyes as he glared at Ian "oh, just like you didn't hurt my brother?"

The mugger blinked, his expression bewildered "huh?"

"Did you forget?! Did you forget about how you killed him in that parking lot? I had to hold him as he died! Because of you!"

Ian's eyes widened as he began to realize what Sam was talking about. He shook his head "no…that was an accident…I didn't mean to kill him…".

Sam cocked his gun and pointed it at Ian. He started to cry as he looked up into the barrel of the 9mm glock.

"I'm sorry…" he pleaded "please don't…".

Sam showed no mercy. He shot Ian three times in the chest, killing him. All the shots straight into the heart. He drew back his gun and stared down at Ian's dead body.

Half of his mission was complete. He found the son of a bitch that killed his brother and made him pay.

Sam then turned around and left the alley. Leaving the man, whose name he didn't know, to rot.

He was certain someone could have heard the shots so Sam quickly made his way back to the Impala. He got into the car and rumbled it to life. He pulled onto the street and drove away.

The next morning Sam opened his eyes, waking up in another motel room. He got out of bed and made it in a meticulous fashion. That cold expression stayed on his face as he brushed his teeth. He spit out the water and it drained into the sink.

Sam heard his cell phone ringing back in the room. But he just stared into the mirror with that dead look as he listened to the tone.

He was remorseless to what he'd done yesterday. In fact, he was satisfied by it. In Sam's dark mind, justice had been served.

He splashed water onto his face and then, turned the sink off. He walked back into the room and picked up his cell from off the bedside table. It said he had a new voicemail. Sam flipped open the phone and listened.

"Sam, it's Bobby, I found him."