Sorry about the wait, guys! Finally back from the mountains, with a sparkling new chapter for you! First, let my fangirl come out as I say that I just about had a heart attack on my flight when my flight attendant walked up while I was reading John's Journal and introduced herself as Amanda- just like in the episode Phantom Traveler! I was waiting to have to save Amanda from a demon pilot while crawling after John's journal and the exorcism within, but alas, no such emergency took place... Anyway, enough about me, how about a new chapter?
She handed him his insurance card (Fake) and his license (Fake) before smiling and telling him she hoped she wouldn't have to see him here again (Also fake, he thought confidently). "Good luck, Dean." The receptionist nodded to him as he left, not even waiting until he was out the door to pick up his phone and dial Sam's number.
He'd expected every possible outcome and played them over in his head. Sorry, Sam can't come to the phone right now, he's dying. He just wished the kid would pick up the phone. Oh, you're Sam's brother? Yeah, he disappeared. Last we saw him he was chugging demon blood behind Toys R Us...
He pushed the bad thoughts away and focused on the ringing tone in his ear as he reached his car, telling himself to ignore the dent and all the memories it resurfaced, and began fumbling with the keys.
Dean had just managed to get the car door open when a voice finally picked up.
"Hello?"
Dean grinned as he recognized the voice on the other end of the line. "Hey, Sammy. Where are you? Are you okay?"
"Yeah, Dean, I'm fine, actually. The question is, are you?"
Dean started the engine and closed his door, taking in the busted interior and, with a smile, the fact that Bobby had managed to cheaply fix the windows.
"You didn't answer my question, Sam. I said, where are you?"
Sam gave a sigh. "I'm at Bobby's."
"I'm on my way." Dean answered immediately.
"No! Dean! Just- go to a motel and I'll call you."
Dean turned out of the hospital and onto the main road. "No. I need to see you, Sam. Just talking over the phone isn't enough."
Sam was silent and Dean could hear the gears turning as he tried to find a solution that would keep his stubborn brother from putting them both in danger. "Do you still have my old laptop in the trunk?"
Dean thought for a moment. "Yeah..."
"Good. Find a motel. Call me later, okay?"
"Yeah, okay."
"And Dean? You sure you're okay?"
"I'm fine. But I'm worried about you. Are you sure you're healthy? You were really bad, Sam. I thought... Never mind what I thought. Just- you sound okay."
"Yeah, I'm good. I'm really good. The doctor up here said it was a miracle,"
"Miracle, sure."
Dean could envision Sam's forehead creasing and his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "What do you mean?"
"Nothing, nothing." He thought of Ruby and how she'd saved Sam, even if it was just for her personal gain. "There've just been a lot of those lately."
...
Dean turned the key into the lock and twisted it, cracking the door and getting a first look into his motel room. Since they were younger it had always been some sort of anticipated event to see what their room had in store, like an unveiling of a new theme park or a present. The excitement had begun to dwindle by the time Dean was ten, focus going more towards hunting and watching over Sam than the never ending family road trip.
This room was green and blue, fitting into the motel's name, Ocean Suites. He dropped his stuff on the bed and pulled out Sam's old laptop case, unzipping it to reveal the dinosaur of a computer Sam had used until Dean had bought him a new one for
Christmas, right before he went to college.
He dusted it off and turned it on, surprised that it still worked at all. Right as he was reaching for his phone, it rang.
"Hey, Sam. I was just about to call-"
"This is not Sam."
Dean paused and glanced at his phone like it was otherworldly. "Cass?"
"Yes. I found a pay phone."
"Where've you been? We really needed you. Still do. Look, can you come here? I'm at-"
"I will not come at your beckoning, Dean. I have more imperative tasks than serving humans." Dean frowned. This wasn't the same Castiel. He'd seen this happen before, to angels sent up to heaven. "I just wished to inform you that Sam seems to be on the track to continue his... Unfortunate addiction. As I said before, if you don't step in, we will."
"But-" Castiel hung up, taking with him all of Dean's hopes of a quick fix for their witch problem.
He massaged his temples, a headache looming in the distance like a storm cloud. Dean picked his phone up from the table where he'd left it just moments ago. He didn't want to deal with demon-angel crap right now, just wanted to figure out how to get to see Sam in person again.
Dean pressed 1 and only heard the phone ring once or twice before Sam picked up. "Dean. Good."
"I have the laptop. What does this have to do with seeing you?"
"Skype, Dean, Skype."
"What's Skype? A disease?"
"No," Sam sounded annoyed. "It's with webcams. So we can see each other while we talk."
"Oh."
Sam guided Dean through the process of opening it on the laptop, which took longer than expected. "Good. Now click on the video camera button."
Sam's face popped up on the screen. He grinned, and it must've been contagious because Dean smiled at the sight of his brother, happy and healthy.
"It's almost as good as seeing you in person," Sam decided, but Dean disagreed. It was far from the same.
"So," Sam got right down to business. "Bobby and I have been searching for a ritual to get rid of the curse." He rustled some papers off screen and came back to hold a certain ragged paper extremely close to the camera. Dean could make out symbols, but nothing in English.
"What is that, Greek?" He guessed. Sam pulled the paper down, leaning back in his chair. Dean could see he was surrounded by books, which, in the case of Bobby's house, didn't help pinpoint his location.
"It's Egyptian, actually. Really old. Bobby managed to decipher the top half with some guy he happened to know-"
"Isn't this a lot of work?" Dean interrupted. "Can't we just look her up and ask her if she'll undo it?"
Sam sighed. "We tried, well, Bobby did. She refused. Then her name just disappeared from his contacts." He shrugged. "Talk to you when we figure out the bottom half. Bobby says it's probably the ingredients for the anti-curse."
Dean popped open his beer and sipped before speaking again. "Okay, so what can I do?"
Sam shrugged. "Nothing really... Uh..." He sifted through a stack of books and papers, some so torn and musty Dean figured they had to be a thousand years old. "Yeah, just wait up, I guess. I'll call you. I'm heading out to talk to some Egyptian Translator Pro or something like that."
"Wait-"
"Later, Dean." Sam's face disappeared from the screen. "Damn it, Sam!" Dean cussed, contemplating throwing the laptop against the wall, but the motel was so cheap it would probably smash straight into the next room. Compromising, he slammed it shut loudly, taking another swig of his drink.
Dean was never a fan of computers, the internet wasn't worth it, minus a few exceptions (- totally worth a platinum membership) and as chic-flic as it would sound, he missed physical contact with his brother. They were always close by each other, and Dean shuddered with realization that the last time they'd been apart this long was when Sammy was in college.
Bad memories with close to deadly consequences. And he knew what they say: History repeats itself.
...
"Sam? You back yet?" Bobby set down his keys on top of a leaning pile of books. It was dark out, and the hunter figured Sam would be back by now. His drive to the professor wasn't long.
He peered from room to room, growing more and more nervous as he saw each empty and undisturbed. "Sam! I saw the car-" His body relaxed when he entered another room and saw the top of Sam's head over the back of the outdated couch. "Jesus, Sam, you almost gave me a heart attack! I just went to help Rufus real fast. Sam?"
He took a step closer. Sam was tall, and it occurred to him that the kid's neck should clear the top of the couch. So not only was he not speaking, he was slouching. Bobby's hunter senses tingled and his heart skipped a beat as he covered the distance between himself and the younger hunter in two strides.
"Sam." He shook his shoulder urgently, kneeling down. Sam's eyes opens slowly, glazed over and red, as was the area around his eyes, like he'd been upset.
"Sam?" Bobby's voice was more soft and less strict this time. Sam's eyes drooped sadly as he looked at the hunter. "Get away, Gramps." He mumbled bluntly, curling into the feeble position, his back to the stunned hunter.
"Sam? Sit up! What's the matter with you?"
Sam did as he was told, his shirt disheveled and his hair mussed up and wild. "What's the matter with you?"
Bobby frowned, then understanding crossed his face. "Sam, are- are you drunk?" His eyes flicked to the open and empty liquor cabinet, then to the bottles placed around the room that he'd missed during his anxious search.
"Yeah. So?" Sam shrugged childishly.
"Come on, Sam! You can't waste your time drinking, idgit, when you were the one whining about not bein' near your brother twenty four-seven!"
Sam stared off. "Doesn't matter."
"What are you talking about?"
"'s over. It's over."
"What's over?"
"It's over," Sam repeated, shaking his head.
"What's-"
"It's OVER!" Sam shouted, standing up to tower over his friend. "IT'S ALL OVER!" He panted for a moment, swaying, before passing out and hitting the floor.
...
Bobby managed to get a semi-conscious, mumbling Sam up the steps to the room he and Dean always shared. Sam fell onto the bed, rolling over and quickly falling asleep. He looked peaceful, but Bobby knew he most definitely wouldn't be the next morning. Hangovers were no walk in the park.
Walking back downstairs, Bobby picked up different opened and partially drank bottles along the way, stopping when he reached what looked to be the spot Sam had dumped his stuff when he'd come back. Feeling like the maid, he picked up Sam's jacket, stooping down to look at a paper that had been left carelessly beneath it.
The handwriting was scrawled and difficult to read, but the North Dakota University emblem at the top was easily noticeable and caught Bobby's eye as the location of that professor Sam'd gone to.
He began to read. It was the items for the anti-curse. At first it seemed like the normal items (As normal as anti-witch's curse ingredients can be, that is) were all it would take, spiders eggs, birds' bones, etcetera. But one item stuck out. "Oh, Sam..." Bobby muttered sadly. He sighed and read the last item in the professor's writing, with an arrow towards some age-old wording.
"The last ingredient is the most important, and deeply trying to receive, one of difficulty and extreme willpower." It translated. "The blood of the accursed man's mother." Sam was right. It was over. Without Sam and Dean's mother's blood, the spell was worthless. Sam wasn't himself without Dean, Dean was miserable without Sam, and Mary Winchester was ash.
Tuh-duh! Nothing's ever easy for the Winchesters... Thanks for reading and reviewing and favorite-ing and any other Ings that have made me happy to be writing this for you! :) I'll update next TUESDAY! (For real. No joke. I promise.)