"Son of a bitch!" Dean cursed a blue streak and braked hard, the car skidding to a halt near the side of the road. "What the hell?"
With a shrug, Sam looked along the road, looking for the blur. Finally, he saw a low blue light pulsating about five feet in front of them from a ditch. "Wanna go find out?" He said, opening his car door.
"On it." Dean's a second behind Sam in getting out, door thudding shut crisply. He approached semi-cautiously, focused with the receding adrenaline rush, glow getting brighter as they get close.
Sam unsheathed his knife, not knowing what to expect. Getting closer, Sam noticed that the light kept pulsing, like a heartbeat... in fact it matched his almost beat for beat. When he got about a foot away, he slid into the ditch, slipping a little on the mud. After gaining his footing, he looked in the direction of the light, except it was gone and there was no sign of anything that could have been there.
"Sam, you okay?" Dean blinked at the sudden loss of light. "Well. That was freaky." He crouched to examine the ground for tracks or evidence or anything but naturally, there's nothing there. "That wasn't, uh, a hallucination, right? Because you definitely saw it too." He looked up at Sam, bemused.
"Yeah... well, I've been known to see strange things." Sam said. "But something was there." Sam tried to get back up to the road, but his sneakers kept sliding in the mud. Finally he just started walking back in the general direction of the Impala, looking for a less sloped area to climb back up on the road.
Dean cast a suspicious last look around before turning and heading back as well, shaking his head. He was, of course, wearing far more sensible footgear and thus has no problem getting into/out of the ditch and back on the road before Sam manages it. He reached a hand down to help pull Sam up on the same level, and threw a look that said "Dude, wipe your feet before you touch my car."
Sam took Dean's hand, but kept his glare level. Dean had a way of being overly obsessive about Baby. Maybe it was just because it was their dad's car, but... Sam felt at times he had to compete with a car for attention from his brother. "Anyway, moving on... now we're awake so Nowheresville?"
"Nowheresville." Dean agreed, swinging himself into the driver's seat. Dean's welfare priorities are Sam and Baby. In that order. Somebody, somewhere, would probably yell at him for not bothering including himself on the list. The glare from Sam is noted, however, and Dean made it a point to fast forward to a song on the side of that cassette that Sam's never verbally expressed his distaste for, which Dean knows means Sam sort of likes it. He only drives ten over the speed limit. Well. fifteen.
Sam fought the urge to hum along with the song, because that would show Dean he likes it... and he'd hear it nonstop from then on. Settling back in the seat, Sam watched trees zoom by and kept an eye peeled for any blue streaks. Finally, just barely on the horizon, he noticed a light. "Hey, think that's our stop?" He asked Dean pointing.
"Hope so." Dean recognized the cheap neon lighting of crappy motel signs everywhere and switched on the turn signal to get off.
Sam kept an eye on the road as they head to the nearest hotel. After about a quarter mile, he noticed the "welcome to" sign. "Welcome to Nowheresville, population: 700." It was a nice sign except somebody had taken spray paint and painted on a number one. "Well great. I don't feel like I'm walking into a horror movie at all." He said, grimly.
"Sam, our lives are a horror movie." Dean responded lightly, amused. "Except we're not screamy dumb teenagers that die at the end."
"Yeah... well, I'd prefer to stay in a town without having to hunt." Sam was still a little nostalgic about his time as a "normal" person.
"And I'd prefer a decent cheeseburger right about now, but if I'm lucky there'll be a vending machine for dinner." Dean grumbled, a block away from pulling in to a "Motor Motel," advertised with 'col_r tv' in missing block letters.
After they pulled in, Sam got out of the car and started walking. "I'm gonna go stretch my legs." What he didn't want Dean to know was he felt like he was being pulled somewhere... and he didn't know where, why, how, or by who.
'Alright, don't get eaten.' Dean went to wake up the sleeping night clerk in a tiny yellow office for a room key, and enjoyed a, er, lively debate over whether 'Paul Bonham' should really be paying over thirty dollars credit for a motel without an ice machine.
Sam felt himself being pulled down the main street, passing an open diner, noting it so he can buy Dean a burger later. As Sam worked his way closer and closer to the woods, he pulled his knife, prepared for the worst. As soon as he was far enough in the woods to not be seen anymore, he saw movement to his left. As he whirled to face whatever it was, he heard a familiar voice. "Hello, Sam."
"Wha?" Sam turned to the voice. Standing there, was Castiel, the angel Dean and Sam had met only a short while ago, only recognizable by the outline of his trench coat. "Castiel? What's going on?"
Castiel gave a small smile. "Sam, you should know better than to question an angel. However, I felt I should let you and Dean know... there is something around here that has been terrorizing the town. It looks like the work of Lilith. Be careful."
With that, Castiel was gone, disappearing into thin air. Sam spun looking for him, still full of questions... but no luck. He started back to the motel, pondering about what the angel had said. On the way, Sam stopped for burgers, getting a greasy bacon and cheese burger for Dean and a burger covered with a mini salad for himself. When he got back to the motel, he realized he didn't have the room number. He saw the light on in the office, and wandered over. "Hi, I'm looking for Paul Bonham. Could you tell me what room he's in?"
'Oh, that asshole? He's in room 23. Tell him I have no more towels for his 'Sasquatch'. That better not be a dog!" The manager pointed left desultorily, squinting suspiciously at Sam.
Sam smirked at the remark. "Yessir... thank you." He headed back to the door, and began looking for the stairs. Finding them, he headed up and found room 23 and knocked.
Dean groaed, busy using up the meager amount of hot water, and got out of the shower to let Sam in. Their bags are already inside, Dean's on the bed closest to the door and messily unpacked.
"I brought food," Sam says, as he tossed the bag from the diner next to Dean's suitcase, laughing "By the way, you did a good job pissing off the manager."
Dean beelined happily for the food, with a huff. "He wanted $65 for the night and we don't even have a coffee pot! And when I mentioned you he asked for a pet deposit." He smirked, but it turns into an actual smile when he gets to the bacon cheeseburger. "I should let you go for walks more often."
Sam laughed, "maybe you shouldn't refer to me as Sasquatch around people who don't like pets?"
"I was just gonna leave you to sleep in the car." Dean grinned, mouth full.
"As long as you crack a window... and don't pull a surprise visit."
"Surprise visit?"
"You know, coming by the car in the middle of the night... there's plenty of weapons in there... speaking of surprise visits. Guess who I just saw."
Dean looked up quizzically, having just finished off the burger with an indecently large last bite.
Sam tossed his burger to Dean, knowing Dean'll get more out of it that he would. "Cas."
Choking a bit in surprise, Dean caught the burger reflexively but ignored it. "Oh yeah? What did his feathery ass want?"
Sam noticed Dean's surprise. "He said something about Lilith opening a gate here... so I guess a-hunting we will go. He also told us to be careful."
"Careful of what? We already know the hellbitch is dangerous."
"Tell me about it. I was gonna ask... but you know Castiel. Never stays put long."
"Could you have been more cryptic?" Dean directed this to the ceiling, which was crisscrossed with cracks and water stains. He didn't quite know how to feel about the angel yet, but he let the prickly irritation suffice for now until he figures it out.
"But that's what I do," came Castiel's voice from the corner of the room.
Dean jumped, turning towards the sound. "Can you not do that?! Jeez, Cas!"
Castiel looked at Dean with the confused look he seems to have perfected in his time in the human host.
Sam laughed, and says, "well at least you picked a less creepy place this time."
"So, careful?" Dean emphasized the last word meaningfully, watching Castiel. "Little detail would be nice."
Castiel sighed..."careful... to take care... to watch your surroundings..need I explain more?"
"I know what careful means, Cas. What are we being careful of?" Dean retorted, exasperated
Sam laughed from the corner. The only time Dean got like this was with Cas. "I think what my brother is being so careful to say is what do we have to hunt? How is it more dangerous than what we've seen already?"
"Yes, thank you Sam, that." Dean gestured emphatically, waiting for an answer.
Castiel looked at both the Winchester brothers, and started explaining. "Ok. I heard through the grapevine that Lilith has something planned for this little town. I wish I could tell you what or when... but if Lilith is involved, I know it's going to be bad. So just be careful, ok boys?"
"Great. Well. That sounds like a party." Dean deflated a bit and glanced at Sam briefly. "Thanks for the, uh, warning, Cas."
Sam looked at Dean meaningfully before he continues. "Hey, Cas? On our way here, we saw this blue blur and almost ran into it... literally. It was in a ditch and had a pulse, a visible one. Any ideas to what that could be?"
"Depends, did it look human in form?"
"Not human, no, but it disappeared before we could get a great look at it, and it was damn bright."
"It was crazy fast too." Sam said, pitching in.
Castiel grew quiet for a moment, deep in thought. Then he just disappeared.
"Aren't we glad we have him for help?" Sam said, shaking his head.
"Yeah..." Dean sounded a bit more sincere than the sarcastic he's aiming for. He doesn't know, it's kind of... well, not nice, but... there's someone else out that that cares whether they're walkin' straight into trouble and wants them to come out alright, and that's... "Anyway, we better get some sleep, got weird things ahead tomorrow."
"Right." Sam said, looking at Dean, trying to figure out the random change in Dean's mood.
"What?" Dean could feel Sam's eyes, while he burrowed through his bag for extra salt to reinforce the line by the door.
"Nothing." Sam said, with a shrug.
Dean gave a grunt, but doesn't press further, finishing up the standard hunter nighttime routine. He put the untouched second burger on the wobbly nightstand between the beds and flopped down onto the duvet, face buried into a pillow smelling faintly of smoke and cheap detergent, knife tucked underneath. 'Night, Sam.'
"Night Dean." Sam said with a slight smile.
Dean snuffled awake slowly, having slept hard enough that no nightmares woke him before the strips of daylight filtering in through the thick vertical blinds.
"Morning sunshine," said Sam. "I got breakfast." He moved from the table to show bacon, sausage, eggs, and toast.
"You're awesome." Dean smiled muzzily, appreciative, and looks for the coffee. "You, uh, been up long?"
"No, not really." Sam said, as he handed Dean a cup. "Couldn't sleep, so I went to the diner and got food."
"You alright?" Dean tok a long sip, it's black as sin and actually pretty quality.
"I guess... just thinking about what Cas said last night. What do you think Lilith could be up to? I mean, we just dealt with the last gate, and barely kept her from opening it." Sam shuddered slightly remembering back.
"I dunno, Sam. But we'll figure it out, and we'll kick her ass." Dean did the reassuring big brother thing, trying to make it true by sounding like he believes in it enough for there to be no way for them to fail. There aren't really any other not-shitty options, anyway, far as he's concerned.
Sam gave a small smile seeing his brother try to be reassuring. "I can't help but feel sometimes though, that no matter what we do, we're meant to fail."
''Hey, if this is about that one quiz you failed back in seventh grade, it's not my fault you got bit by a stray cat while keeping watch and bled all over your textbook. No need to get a complex." Dean avoided confronting Sam's dire outlook directly, instead thinking about where they should head next. 'If something's up around here, guess we should go check it out.' The town's too small for there to have been even a shitty map in the motel lobby, but Dean does remember vaguely some brochures for nearby 'attractions'.
Sam rolled his eyes remembering back to that test, but also noticed how fast that Dean changed the topic. "So what are we gonna prepare for? Cas was really mysterious, which doesn't help us in the least, because knowing Lilith, she's got something big up her sleeve. She wasn't too happy with us last time."
Dean looked grim. 'We prepare for everything. Up to and including clowns. But first we look around.'
"Okay." Sam said, looking out on the street. "Wanna go to the diner first? Meet the locals? They might know if something's up."
'Good a place as any.'
"You just want more food." Sam said, laughing at his brother's reaction.
"Pie counts as a food group, Sammy."
"Uh huh," Sam said, swinging the door open for Dean. "Let's walk. I'm still stiff from the ride up here."
Dean shoved his left foot into his still-tied boot, a bad habit he's owned too long to break now, and headed out the door, turning to do a quick once-over of the room in lieu of making a dirty joke at Sam, though he settled for a suggestively overt leer.
Sam looked away from Dean and turned to begin walking up the street and ran right into Castiel. "Damn, Cas... if you're gonna be popping in and out like that, try to give us some notice..."
"Whoa man, what's up now?" Dean stopped short behind Sam, barely but neatly avoiding the pileup.
"Well... I did some heavy researching on that spectre you boys saw. It turns out there is a very powerful spirit that's been known to be seen on small highways and roads in rural areas. I think you may know the legend of the ghostly hitchhikers?"
Sam nodded.
"Yeah, aren't those usually women in white, though? Or weird unhappy teenagers?" Dean asked.
"Well... it's like that, but one minor difference. It's a vengeful spirit that was involved in an extremely violent vehicular accident, which ended in their death. Many times, the person who died was just walking along the road. So what you boys saw, it was the spirit sprinting in the road trying to cause a deadly accident, except this time, the driver would die."
Sam looked at Dean, "This doesn't have anything to do with Lilith does it?"
"I don't believe so, but if you two are going to be out on the road after dark, be wary of it," and with that, Castiel disappeared.
"Yeah, thanks Cas!" Dean shouted at the sky, and then looked at Sam. "Dick move from the ghost, you think its bones are in that ditch, maybe?"
"Maybe," Sam said distractedly. He wasn't really so worried about the story, as to why it had gone after them... he had a hard time believing in coincidences.
"What is it?" Dean noticed the distraction on Sam's face, trying to remember in the back of his head if they need more lighter fuel.
"Huh? Oh nothing," Sam said, not wanting to worry Dean, "Here's the diner."
Dean shot him a look, muttering something that could suspiciously sound similar to 'nothing, my ass'. But a diner's a diner, and one of his personal checklists of good places to eat could always use an update. He turned his attention to the blue-and-pink pastel decor, the special of the day (Porkchops and Mashed Potatoes, $5.99) and the red-headed freckled cashier with the smudged nametag reading 'Mik-'
Sam wandered over to the bar and grabbed one of the menus from between the napkins and the sugar. He flips one of the coffee cups, and soon the waitress had it filled with the typical diner coffee, one shot of espresso away from turpentine. He started to rub his temple absently as he looked at the lunch items, trying to choose between fried chicken and burgers.
Coming over after a few minutes to sit next to Sam, Dean made eyes at the waitress in a harmless sort of way, who's likely five years older than the makeup and auburn hair color would suggest. 'Kid at the counter says that nothing exciting ever happens around here, the blueberry pie is better than the apple, and that a Mr. Aaron Henderson flipped his car out on the same road last month and is still stuck at home in a body cast. How's the coffee?'
"Like crap," Sam said, "but it's hot. So the other guy is ok, other than injuries?"
Dean grimaced but goes for a cup anyway. 'Oh yeah, he's fine, except for the dead-wife-on-impact thing.'
"Oh." Sam said... anyone who lost a partner was especially hard for him, after what happened to Jessica.
"Yeah..." Dean coughed, uncomfortable and unable to fix the look on Sam's face, and watched the waitress. "I dunno, how do you think we should, uh, approach him?"
"Maybe, I mean it couldn't hurt to try, right?" Sam was secretly hoping Dean would say no, but knew his brother better than that.
'A lead's a lead. Though if you wanna see if you can find any other accidents, Mike can probably scribble you a map to the library. We need to figure out who, or at least where this sucker is so we can gank it.' Dean gets the blueberry pie slice he ordered, which is about a 5.5 on the rankings list, but improves considerably with whipped cream.
"Sounds good," Sam said, jumping at the option to be by himself for a little while, just to think.
'Cool.' Dean's relieved Sam's taken the out for what it was. 'While you're there make sure to look up any other freaky stuff around here, like a bad batch of pickles or a 3-headed keep our eyes peeled.' Dean smiles sideways at Sam.
"Will do," Sam said, laughing. Not as warmly as he'd intended, but it felt good to laugh. After Dean headed out to go talk to Henderson, Sam paid and asked Mike for directions. As it turned out, the library was two doors down and across the street. Sam spent the walk thinking about the information gleaned from Castiel, little though it was. "Damn, Castiel, why can't you just tell us everything for once?" As he crossed the street, he would've bet he heard the angel chuckle, wryly.
Dean got back to the motel and did a quick check-over of Baby (couple dings in the paint he'll need to buff out, and the pressure in the back left tire looks a little low). He decided to go with Inspector from the National Transportation Safety Board for a cover and dressed accordingly, and dug up a fake badge from the trunk and a suitably solemn notebook/affects to go conduct the interview. The unfortunate Mr. Henderson's house is a few twisty backroads away. He was so not looking forward to doing this.
Sam followed Mike's directions to the library. Even though he didn't know what he was expecting, Sam knew this wasn't it. The "library" was a one room stone house that had probably been there since the town was built. Walking in, he walked up to receptionist, who was probably the same age, and asked where the records/ newspapers were. She raised a crooked, wrinkled hand in the general direction, and Sam headed over and began scanning through microfiche.
"Let yourself in, dammit!" is what Dean is greeted with from the inside of the small brown one-story house, garden flowers with bright petals already wilting in the sun. "If you've brought me another damn casserole I'll feed it to Sampson." Mr. Henderson was clearly miserable, stuck on a fading linen couch next to an aged Labrador retriever, and most certainly not expecting Dean. "Uh, no casseroles here, sir. Just business." Dean held up his hands placatingly, with his professional, i'm-a-good-guy smile. Mr. Henderson scowled. Fantastic.