I know it's been a little while, but this ep is ready to go!
Chapter Twelve :The Boys
(Dead Man's Blood - Pt 1)
John drove with the sound of Dean and Sam's voices from breakfast ringing in his ears. Since finding Dean, he never believed that the boys could get along, that they could stand to be on the road together. It had even felt safe, knowing that they would never find each other, never discover what he had done. Was he wrong. They appeared to be more of a team than he had ever been with either of them. It wasn't just that they seemed to be related; they were tighter than most family members could be.
John led them to Elkins' mail drop. The letter he found there was exactly what he expected, and that pissed him off. They went to Elkins' place afterwards to search for the Colt, but all they found was the box. The sanctimonious bastard had had it all this time. That gun was the whole basis for their falling out. If the man had just let him use it…
No use in crying over lost opportunities. They had to get that gun back. John picked a motel and secured a single room. It only had two beds, but he had no intention of all of them sleeping at the same time. The first thing he did was pull Dean aside and give him an assignment. He had already decided what must have taken out Elkins. If they were going up against vampires, there was only one thing that could slow those bastards down – dead man's blood.
John shoved Dean out the door the instant Sam disappeared into the bathroom. After experiencing just how protective Sam was, he preferred not to start an argument the moment they were hunting together again. Besides, obtaining a little dead man's blood was a one-man job, for which Dean was overqualified.
Sam stepped out of the bathroom. John pretended to be absorbed in Elkins' journal while Sam's eyes scoured the room. "Where's Dean?"
"Errand," John replied flippantly. "Shouldn't take long."
"An errand?" Sam demanded. Yep, he figured this was coming. Better to get it out of the way before Dean came back. "Where did you send him?"
"He's fine, Sam. Dean doesn't need a babysitter." John turned a page in the journal.
"About that," Sam pulled over a chair to sit facing him. "Why Dean?"
John heaved a sigh, setting the journal down. "Honestly? I don't know. Are we really doing this?" Sam nodded. John rubbed his tired eyes. "Okay. I liked the kid, all right?" He looked at his son. "Got to admire someone who, at the age of five, walked four miles for help after being mauled by a Wendigo. And he's a smartass." He chuckled, shrugging and spreading his hands wide. "I guess that's a combination I just couldn't pass up."
Sam did smile then. "Yeah, I know what you mean. But you still didn't answer the question."
John frowned at his son. "I thought I did. 'Why Dean?'"
"Why did you change his name to Dean, not why did you hook up with him. I pretty much had the second part figured out anyway," Sam said slowly, as if John were being slow or dense about this on purpose. Smart kid.
John shook his head, picking the journal up. "Pass. Next question."
"Fine." He heard paper crinkle. Curious, John looked up. Sam held a small notepad and a pen. "Okay. Next question is, uh, hang on." Sam flipped past a few pages. "Oh, right. Here we go."
John groaned, dropping his chin to his chest. Sam had a list of questions? "You're not serious?"
The glare he received more than answered that question. If Dean didn't get his ass back here, soon, there would be more than questions to put up with.
"Why didn't you show up in Lawrence? I know Dean called you. He thinks you might have come if I called, you know." Sam glared at him.
John decided not to lie. At least, not completely. "It wouldn't have mattered who called, I would have done the same thing."
Sam's face hardened, but he gave a tight nod before dropping his eyes back to the notepad. "When Dean was… After his heart attack, you didn't even call." Sam looked downright pissed now. "Dad?"
Now would be a good time to lie. "When I heard your message I headed for the truck. The very next message was the one you left about the reaper. I didn't think you needed me anymore." Yeah, so there were a few days between those messages. At the time he was preoccupied with a frigging demon. It wasn't like the boys needed to deal with that too.
Sam snorted through his nose and mumbled something that sounded like "still could've called", but he did not comment. John did not know whether to feel relieved or disappointed. His son made a mark in the notepad before continuing the inquisition.
"Did Dean call you when I was taken by the Benders?" Sam asked, pen poised above the pad.
"You were taken?" John's mind was in a whirl now. "By what? What the hell's a Bender?"
"Forget it," Sam said darkly as he made another mark on the notepad.
"He's wearing the amulet I gave you." Sam stared him in the eye. "What's up with that?"
John swallowed kind of hard. "When I figured out that the demon was on the move again, I decided I had to leave without him. I didn't want him to be completely defenseless…" John shrugged, unable to really justify his actions.
"So you left him the amulet?" Sam asked. He shook his head as he looked down at the notepad again. John couldn't tell if Sam approved or not. After a final glance Sam closed the notebook but did not put it away.
"Sam?" John leaned forward. His son was behaving a bit out of character. "What is it?"
Sam's Adam's apple bobbed a few times before he answered. "I took off on him, too. Once." He slouched in the chair. "Almost got him killed, Dad, because I wasn't there. You…you can't just take off." His hair bounced wildly with the hard head shake. "It doesn't help anybody. It just puts people in danger."
"When was this?" John demanded, alarmed. What the hell had been going on?
Sam sighed. "Remember when you called, to tell us to back off?" John nodded. "You called from a payphone in California. I went to find you. I tried to talk Dean into coming with me, but he was determined to follow orders."
"Never figured that out," John mused. Sam stopped to watch him carefully. "I mean about why he likes to take orders." John shrugged. "Don't tell me you haven't noticed."
Sam rolled his eyes.
"So what happened?" John asked, determined to get back on track.
"I was in a bus station, ticket in hand, when I realized I couldn't go through with it," Sam replied.
"Why not?" John rubbed his thumb along the edge of Elkins' journal. It felt smooth from years of wear and use, in direct contrast to the hard truths it contained.
Sam's eyes darted away, like he couldn't stand to look at John that moment. "Because he didn't answer his phone for three hours." He fiddled with the small notebook. "Dean always answers his phone, if he knows it's me."
The last sentence was barely above a whisper and the words stabbed. Clearly John did a better job selecting a Dean than he thought possible. Not that he went out looking for a Dean. Not that he offered to take half a dozen guys hunting with him before running across this diamond in the rough, this perfect broken match. And he hadn't looked for a Dean because he was lonely, either. No. He hunted alone for years before Sam was old enough to hunt with him. He had been hunting alone for nearly a year now. John was fine. The only reason he offered to take the boys with him this time was because it was Elkins and the possibility of finding the Colt. With something like that around, he needed to have dependable men to watch his back. Who could be better than his boys?
His boys.
That still sounded strange, but good.
"Do you have plans for Thanksgiving?" Sam asked in a hesitant voice.
John stared at the non sequitor. "What?"
"Ella invited us all for Thanksgiving. I guess it's Dean's favorite holiday." Sam shrugged.
"Probably should've guessed that," John offered. "Food."
"So? You going?" Sam asked. Apparently Sam had already made up his mind.
John shrugged, picking up the journal again. "Can't promise that, Sam." He looked over the top of the book. "But I can promise to try."
Sam checked his watch. "He's taking too long," Sam announced, jumping up. "I'm going after him."
"Sam…" John broke off his protest as the door swung open. Dean strode into the room casting a questioning look at the anxiety on Sam's face. He took out a brown paper bag. It settled on the table with a serious clunk.
"Lot of security for a bunch of dead guys," Dean offered by way of explanation for taking so long.
John nodded in appreciation while Sam shut the door. At least the inquisition was over.
Vampires. Dean pretended to fiddle with the spark plug wires as he waited. Dad liked using him as bait and this wasn't exactly his first rodeo. The thought of vampires being real, though, that sent cold shivers through him. Sam seemed to take it in stride with a "Dad, I thought you said there was no such thing as vampires." He kept thinking of those old horror movies with men in long black cloaks and fangs.
"Break down, handsome?" a woman's voice asked. Huh. No sounds of a car engine. As far out as they were right now, there was no way she just 'happened' on him here.
Dean turned to get a good look at her. His first look at a vampire. She did seem kind of pale and just oozed self-confidence. No fangs, though. Bram Stoker would be disappointed.
"Just a little car trouble," he said, wiping his hands on a rag.
She stepped closer, ran a finger across his chest. "Maybe I can help," she practically purred.
"Sorry, honey," he smiled at her, "but I'm not really into necrophilia."
She hesitated. He guessed the bloodsucker didn't expect that. She eyed him carefully then inhaled deeply. "Now I have your scent." She smiled and a whole new row of teeth dropped down, wicked and jagged. Shit! "That's for life, but in your case, it won't be very long."
Dean figured that was probably his cue. He ducked, banking that at least one member of his family could take the hint. When he looked back up, he saw a wood stake sticking out of her shoulder. She laughed, really laughed, and pulled it out. Her eyes tracked to the woods where Dad and Sam were. Dad walked out swinging the crossbow. Sam followed, holding his upright and ready to go.
She shook the narrow stake at them. "Did you really think this would hurt me?" she demanded.
Dad grinned. That was how he looked after taking a few suckers in poker, too. "Check the tip, sweetheart. Dead man's blood. That's like poison to you, isn't it?"
Dean wasn't sure it was possible, but she did look paler. Then she collapsed, right into his arms. Ew.
"So the plan is to trade her for the Colt?" Dean asked as he lifted the woman up and into the truck.
"Yep." John nodded as he carried some things over to the blazing fire. He handed them off to Sam. "Throw those on the fire. It'll help cover our scents for a while."
"Oh!" Sam jumped back as it caught. "That reeks."
"That's the point," John said with a shake of his head. "It's to hide our scents. When it burns down, we all need to dust our clothes with the ashes. It should hold long enough to get the job done."
"So what's the plan?" Dean asked as he approached the fire. "Dude! Lay off the beans!"
"Ha – ha." Sam rolled his eyes. He looked at John. "He thinks he's funny," Sam said pointing a thumb at Dean.
"Yeah, I've noticed," John admitted.
Dean waved the rank smoke away. "Plan?"
"We put the ashes from the fire on our clothes and hunt some vampires," Sam said. "Right, Dad?"
John shrugged. "Actually, that's pretty much the plan in a nutshell. Vampires mate for life, and this one is the head vamp's mate, so she means more to him than anything, even the Colt."
"So we use her to get the Colt?" Sam asked. "You never said what's so important about it."
John hesitated. Telling them could put them in even more danger. "I use her to get the Colt," he clarified. "While I have the leader distracted, you two are going to take out the whole nest."
Dean grinned, firelight reflecting off his teeth. "Cool." He glanced over. "So what's with the old gun?"
"Dad?" Sam chimed in. Both boys just sounded curious at the moment, but knowing them it could change in an instant. "You are going to tell us?"
"I'd rather not," John admitted. "It's dangerous."
"The gun?" Dean snorted. "I'd hope so. Why else would ya have us going to all this trouble?"
"He means it's too dangerous for us to know," Sam snapped. John's hopes for this to end amicably dashed right through the ground at his feet. "Like we're just children."
"Sam, don't start," John warned. As he heard the old words flow out of his mouth, pure reflex, John knew it was a mistake. The familiar pissed-off expression leapt right out of Sam's face.
"You can't do this, Dad!" Sam shouted right in his face. His son stood barely inches away.
"Enough, Sam." He tried to remain calm, but John knew he was only a few words shy of knocking his son on his ass. He felt his hands clench into fists.
"Stop it!" Strong arms pushed him back, away from Sam. "Knock it off!" Dean pressed between them, holding them apart.
Dean turned to glare at Sam. "We've been looking for Dad for a year. You don't act like that right after we hook up!"
"Dean, he's planning to dump us again!" Sam shouted, waving one arm wildly in John's direction.
"Yeah, I'll get to that in a second!" Dean shoved Sam back a step. "You back off!"
Now Dean turned to face him. "And you knock off the need to know crap." Dean glared for a moment before adding, "Sir."
Shit. They were ganging up on him. He didn't see this one coming. Hell, he never saw them being in the same room without killing each other as a possibility either. When John got something wrong, he really got it wrong. "Samuel Colt was rumored to have made a gun that will kill anything. And I mean anything."
"Supernatural anything?" Sam asked softly.
"Yeah," John sighed out. "You gotta use the bullets he made with the gun, but yeah."
Dean was still breathing hard, standing between them. "Awesome," he finally added. "Then we can use it on the demon."
John shook his head. The boys couldn't think they would be coming with him. It was too dangerous. The demon wanted Sam. There were plans. He still didn't know why the demon wanted his son, but he certainly had a better idea of why Sam was so argumentative. It all to do with that visit on Sam's six month birthday, everything that went wrong with their lives stemmed from that night.
"You two do your job and then head out of town. I'll take care of the rest," John promised. Two vampires shouldn't be too much of a problem, especially if the woman stayed weak and sick. "I'm trying to keep you safe."
"No, Dad." Dean stared right at him. "That's crap. We're stronger together. Sam's right. I didn't see it before, because I didn't get it. We're a family and we're stronger as a family. We are stronger together."
John gritted his teeth. "No. I won't watch you die. I can't. You two do your job and get out of here. That's an order." Then he did the hardest thing he had had to do since watching Sam walk away with the duffel packed for college slung over one shoulder. He turned his back on both of his boys and left.