Chapter 6


Sam and Dean both sat on the couch in the late night, early morning. Abigail and Clay had both gone off to bed a few hours ago, leaving Sam and Dean to the living room.

Sleep, however was the farthest thing from their minds.

"What do you suggest we do?" Sam asked Dean in a low whisper.

Dean sighed and brushed his hand across his face in frustration. He was sitting as far away from Sam as the couch would allow. He didn't want a repeat of this evening.

"I'm not sure, but next time you feel like gettin' lucky…wear a bag." Dean said with a tiny smirk.

Sam rolled his eyes, "Thanks, real helpful." He snapped sarcastically.

"But I'm serious," Dean said firmly, "We can't risk that demon mojo you got goin' on getting passed down again, ya know?"

Sam shot Dean an offended look. Even though he knew Dean was right. Back then Sam was ignorant and didn't know he was any different from anyone else. He didn't know that the evidence of his differences was flowing through his veins since he was six months old.

But still, Dean didn't know how bad it really was. He seemed to only think it was some sort of demon connection.

And Sam would let Dean go right ahead and think that.

"Whatever." Sam said angrily as he shook his head, "That still doesn't help us with Clay, now."

"I know…and I'm pretty sure Abigail won't let us take him to get him help." Dean said with great agitation.

Sam scoffed, "Not only that, but Clay won't come willingly either. You saw him before; he threw a fit when I told him not to use his abilities unless it was a last resort."

"You think maybe it's too late to help him then?" Dean asked sympathetically.

Sam's heart constricted at the question. He wished that with every fiber of his being it wasn't too late to save Clay. But he knew how people reacted to power; he knew that with only a little taste of it people would leave behind everything to seek more.

And Clay was already showing signs of that reaction.

"I hope not." Sam said simply.

Because he knew what it meant for Clay if they were too late to save him. It meant that they would have to kill him.

"What about you?" Dean asked with concern as he looked over at Sam soulfully, "I mean you just opened yourself up to the same abilities…how are you feeling?"

Sam half shrugged, "I'm fine I guess for all intents and purposes. I mean I'm a bit freaked out, but I guess that's to be expected right?"

Dean shrugged, "I guess."

"So what's our next move?" Sam asked eagerly.

"I guess since the kid aint cooperating, we'll have to bring help to him." Dean replied simply.

"You really think that'll work?" Sam asked hopefully.

Dean shrugged, "I don't really know, but we don't have much choice if you wanna keep him."

"Who would we get? I mean, who could possibly help?" Sam asked curiously.

"Uh…Bobby or maybe he knows a psychic who can help us. I mean, you'd want someone with experience helping you guys out, right?"

Sam rolled his eyes impatiently and nodded, "That'd probably help, Dean!"

Dean bit his lip as he searched his mind desperately for anyone who would be able to help them out. His eyes suddenly widened and he released his reddened lip as realization dawned on him.

"There's always Missouri." Dean quipped, he obviously didn't seem to happy about the idea.

Missouri Mosley was an older psychic that lived in Lawrence Kansas. She was the one who told their dad about the evil things out there. She pretty much told him that every nightmare and monster movie he'd ever seen was real.

Sam and Dean had the pleasure of meeting her once a few years ago. Well, supposedly she met them when they were too young to remember as well, but they weren't sure if that counted exactly.

She even made a comment to the boys, saying how they grew up handsome, and practically laughed in Dean's face when she told him that he was 'a goofy lookin' kid'.

Sam chuckled softly, "Dean, I don't think she's really in your fan club."

"Yea, but this isn't about me, Sam. This is about you and Clay. And she acts like you friggin' walk on water!" Dean pressed with an eye roll.

"She does not!" Sam defended.

"Whatever, the point is she's the only experience psychic I can think of if you have any better ideas." Dean challenged.

"Let's just see if Bobby knows anyone, and if he can't think of anyone helpful, then we'll call Missouri. Besides, I don't really think she'd be into driving through two states just to help us out, ya know?"

Dean nodded in understanding and surrender. He figured that was just as well seeing as he knew Sam was right. Missouri didn't really seem to like him much. She always seemed to be yelling at him for something, whether he did something stupid, or was only thinking about doing something stupid.

Sam suddenly took a deep calming breath and turned his head toward his brother with a serious expression on his face.

"What do you think of Clay, Dean?" Sam asked curiously.

"I don't really know, Sam." Dean answered quickly, "I mean he seems really smart, but if we can't get him to listen to us…it definitely won't matter what I think of him."

Sam knew what Dean was saying. What Dean meant was, he wasn't going to try and get close to the kid, because he didn't want to live with the pain if they ended up having to kill him.

Sam nodded in understanding, and turned his head to look at the television that was turned off, just looking at a blank screen.

He didn't know what it was, but Sam felt a small connection to his son already. It scared him a little, even. He had literally just met this kid a few hours ago, but it was a feeling he couldn't shake. Clay was his, plain and simple.

Sam sighed as he realized the extent of that connection on a more serious note.

If it ever came down to Clay refusing their help, and he went bad. Sam knew that he would have to be the one to kill his son.

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