The Supernatural characters belong to Kripke Enterprises and the CW, not me. No money is being made from this story. It is for entertainment only.
A/N The second half of this chapter is the set-up for the action described in the first chapter of this story. If you don't remember who Silas or Ed Gainer are you might want to skim that chapter again.
Hunter's Moon
Chapter 16
Joining the Festival
There are places I remember all my life
Though some have changed
Some forever not for better
Some have gone and some remain
ooOoo
All these places have their moments
Of lovers and friends I still can recall
Some are dead and some are living
In my life I loved them all
ooOoo
And with all these friends and lovers
There is no one compares with you
And these memories lose their meaning
When I think of love as something new
ooOoo
And I know I'll never lose affection
For people and things that went before
I know I'll often stop and think about them
In my life I loved you more
ooOoo
And I know I'll never lose affection
For people and things that went before
I know I'll often stop and think about them
In my life I loved you more
In my life I loved you more
ooOoo
"In My Life" was released on the 1965 Beatles album"Rubber Soul"
Song was credited to Lennon-McCartney
Early morning: Sam sat up in bed, stretched, yawned and glanced at his lover lying warm and curled up into his side. He smiled and traced the dark blood bruise he had left last night with a gentle finger then leaned over to kiss twitching lips.
"I know you're awake," he murmured. "You're not fooling anyone."
Dean answered "Who you talking to, LeRoy? Nobody here." He giggled as Sam dug long, nimble fingers into his ribs. "Damn it, Sam. Cut it out."
Sam kept tickling and Dean kept moving away until he slid right off the side of the bed and landed on his ass on the floor. Sam leaned over and looked at him. "Happy now? Go take your shower. I'll just wait here in this nice warm bed until you're done. Go on, git!"
Dean swiped up at Sam's face. "Who died and made you boss?"
"Oh, I think we figured that out last night, didn't we?" Sam stretched again. "And when you get dressed I want a nice breakfast in bed. I did all the work last night, you can do it this morning."
"Hey, nobody said that was going to happen every time." Dean groused.
"Stop fussing. It's too early to have a relationship discussion." Sam pulled the comforter back up over his shoulders. "Besides, aren't you the one with the no chick-flick moments rule? You must have known one day that would come back and bite you in the ass." Sam snickered and mumbled. "Bite you on the ass, heh, heh."
Dean gathered his dignity and a bed sheet around himself and headed for the bathroom. "I'm just telling you, don't think you're going to be the boss, bitch."
Sam laughed from under the blanket. "I'm pretty sure we established who the bitch is around here."
XXXXXXX
Dean walked into the motel room with paper bags full of diner breakfast and started laying the food out on the table. Sam exited the bathroom, rubbing his hair dry with one towel and another one clinging to his slim hips. Dean looked up and realized he was actually getting a warm rush from the idea that Sam's body was his anytime he wanted.
Sam caught the flash of Dean's eyes. "If you're done perving on my body we can get down to polishing the details of this trip now. West Lafayette is only a couple of hundred miles away. Do we have a place to stay yet? "
Dean blushed and looked back down at the food. ""Yeah, I got this set up a month ago. Thousands of just tourists and battlefield re-enactors show up for this festival along with all the Hunters. We'd be sleeping in the car if I hadn't set it up. Even so, all that was left was a bed n' breakfast half way to Lafayette."
Sam picked up his messenger bag and pulled out various papers and brochures. "You know, this Festival is fairly complex. It seems to be made up of several different pieces."
Dean sat and portioned out the food. "Is this a standard Sammy lecture? Cause I'll just eat and nod periodically if it is; you know, the normal response to the wife's voice; Yes, Dear; Yes, Dear"
Sam snorted and sorted through his papers. "If I catch you nodding and repeating "Yes, Dear" to my research you are going to be in such pain later. And I am not your wife, bitch."
"First we have the Feast of the Hunter's Moon which is a re-creation of an annual fall gathering of the French and the local Native Americans at Fort Ouiatenon in the mid 1700's on the banks of the Wabash River southwest of West Lafayette. That's been going on for hundreds of years. "
"This annual party got mixed up with our Hunters who decided that this gathering would be an good meeting place for Hunters from all of the country. They originally started coming here in early October hunting lunar-influenced werewolves that were attracted by the moon and all the humans gathering outside in the evenings."
"Then you have the battle of Tippecanoe. In 1811 government forces lead by General William Henry Harrison stood their ground against an attack by the forces of Native American leaders, Tecumseh and his brother Tenskwatawa, who was also known as The Prophet. Tecumseh was trying to hold on to the Native American lands that the tribes had roamed for thousands of years. The U.S. Military was sent to pacify the land and make way for settlers."
"It was on the battlefield of Tippecanoe, seven miles north of Lafayette, that the Native Americans lost control of the Midwestern lands and it was also here that the political career of William Harrison was launched, based on the supposedly successful battle. He became president in 1840 and died in office of pneumonia 32 days later, the shortest presidency on record. There are re-enactors that come to put that battle on every year, drawing even more people to the Festival"
Dean looked up from his breakfast. "That about it, Professor? Anything else of interest?"
"Only the surprising number of ghost towns in Tippecanoe County. Not the normal kinds of ghost towns either, like in the west. These are towns that were laid out and named and platted in the county records but never came to life. That's a whole difference kind of ghost town. Nothing there for us, I think. Very few people ever actually lived in these phantom towns."
"Ok, then." Dean stood and stretched. "If we're done maybe we should hit the road. It's about 4 hours in to the bed n' breakfast. Then we going to have to hunt down and set up meetings with some of these old contacts from Dad's journal. Who knows if any of these guys are even alive anymore?"
Dean started moving around the room, packing up their duffels. He noticed that Sam was just watching, not helping. "What's up with you? You planning to ride in the car naked with your junk hanging out or are you going to get dressed at all today?"
"I just like the idea that I'm finally free to just watch and stare if I want to." Sam said. "It sure takes a lot of the stress out of being trapped in a room with you."
Dean smiled. "I'm glad you like the view but it would be more useful if you would get off your butt and help out."
Sam rose and covered the distance to his brother in about two long strides. He then kissed his brother hard. It was an 'I own you' kind of kiss and for a moment a kind of violence hung in the air
"Whoa, Sam! What the hell was that?" Dean pulled back.
Sam grimaced. "For just a minute The Sphinx was coming out. He likes respect. I would be careful with the orders, brother."
"Hey, get it under control Sam or this party is going to be over before it really gets started." Dean replied, knowing that boundaries should have been discussed last night but the opportunity had been run over by their desire for sex.
XXXXXXX
Hours later they arrived at their Festival lodgings. It once had been a Indiana family's home; a two story, rambling edifice decorated with a bygone eras' gingerbread woodwork. It looked clean and welcoming from the outside. Once in doors however, the welcoming face got a little cooler when the manager understood that the reservation was for two young men, traveling together.
"Are you gentlemen sure you are going to be happy with the suite?" he asked. "There is the requested sitting room but there is only one bedroom with a king size bed. We could try to accommodate you elsewhere but we are pretty well booked up."
"Don't worry about it." Dean told him. "We'll cope."
Inside the house was all dark wood and mahogany stair cases. An effort had been made to brighten up the place with rag rugs and embroidered samplers on the walls. Dean thought the whole place looked pretty girly but they had to settle for what they could get. They were directed to their rooms on the second floor with the manager's eyes digging holes in the backs of the heads all the way up the stairs.
Dean sat at the table and went through the journal, assembling a list of phone numbers. Sam stretched out on the chaise lounge and listened to his brother work the phone. After a little while he drifted off to sleep.
"Come on, princess." Dean's voice interrupted his dream. "We got a date. Get up."
"Where we going?" Sam asked and yawned.
"To a bar back in West Lafayette. I managed to track down a couple of Dad's old contacts and we're meeting them there."
"I don't know ,Dean. Is this such a good idea? Remember the last bar we got caught in." Sam ran his fingers through his hair.
"This is one of the reasons we're here. We need more contacts than just Garth. What if we need help one night and we can't find him? Right now our only backups are Jody and Chuck Elbert. We gotta' make some new friends."
XXXXXXX
The place was simply known as The Old Bar. It had been there as long as anyone could remember. Like the river and the fields, it was a natural part of the landscape. Once a year it was drown in visitors. A lot of them were simple tourists attracted by the Festival but mixed in were another breed of men.
Hard men, men who wore their scars like diaries of their lives. They held their beers in one hand and the other hand rested on a weapon. They always were expecting an attack. They had seen too many taken unaware to ever relax.
When Sam and Dean entered a ripple swept through the place. Men at the bar swiveled on their stools to take a good look at the younger men. In this place Sam and Dean counted as children, the next generation, coming along to take the places of lost warriors. There also were those that had heard evil of the Winchesters; that the boys were themselves, monsters, worthy of killing, of hunting.
Sam leaned into Dean. "Who are we here to see, Dean? Some of these guys don't look particularly friendly."
"Earl and Karl Montain, a couple of good, ole' boys out of West Virginia. They hunted wolves with Dad before this place was cleaned out. I found them in his journal." Dean replied.
"Earl and Karl?" Sam chuckled. "How did that happen?
"They're brothers." Dean answered. "I guess mom was a bit of a poet."
An older man stood up at a table across the room and waved a beer bottle at them. "Dean, Sam, come on over." The Montain brother looked alike and may have been almost twins before the years separated them into individuals. Earl had a beard, Karl had sideburns. Their once dark hair was now streaked with grey. To survive to old age as Hunters meant that they were either very good, very lucky, or sly foxes. Only time would tell Dean which kind they were.
They sat with the brothers and drank beer and talked of who had survived the past year, who had died and how they had died. The Winchesters told of the Deane House hunt and the Montain brother spoke of hunting black dogs in the Appalachian Mountains.
This was the heart of the Hunter's Moon festival for Hunters; renewing old ties, seeing old friends, learning of new threats and discoveries in their world. Embedded among average, every day people the Hunters were well hidden. As long as no one eavesdropped on their peculiar conversations an invisible wall kept them insulated from violence. Violence from the things they hunted or violence from each other.
Various strangers came to the table to give the Winchesters the once over. Little was really known about John Winchesters' boys and of that, almost nothing was known of Dean. Sam had been a source of speculative gossip for years. Some came to the table perhaps expecting devil's horns or the mark of Satan on his forehead. Most were surprised by the quiet, sweet-faced boy with a dimpled smile.
Some relaxed and stayed to drink a beer and make conversation but there were others who were clearly uncomfortable around the brothers. Of this type one that stood out was a rat-faced man named Ed Gainer.
Gainer claimed that werewolves were once again gaining ground in Tippecanoe County and that he was putting together a hunt for the following night. No one trusted Ed Gainer who had met him or hunted with him. Most only made that mistake one time and avoided him after that. Gainer insisted that everyone at the table, including the Winchester take a little hand drawn map from him of where the hunt was supposed to take place. It was a wooded area known as Lantern ridge and Gainer claimed that a group of the wolves would be there the next night.
He never made it completely clear as to how he knew this but he was satisfied to leave his message and his photocopied maps behind and wander off.
Karl and Earl thought Gainer's manner was odd. He usually stood and tried to nag people into joining his hunts. Tonight it seemed that his heart just wasn't in it.