The Winchesters are the property of Kripke Enterprises Inc. and the CW. This story is written for my own pleasure and not for money.

A/N The reasons that Dean glows in the dark and Sam can change into a Sphinx were explained in "Sons of the Morning".

Walt and Roy Get What They Deserve

Chapter 2

The Winchesters Are Back, Again

Stanza II

Eyes I dare not meet in dreams

In death's dream kingdom

These do not appear:

There, the eyes are

Sunlight on a broken column

There, is a tree swinging

And voices are

In the wind's singing

More distant and more solemn

Than a fading star.

Let me be no nearer

In Death's dream kingdom

Let me also wear

Such deliberate disguises

Rat's coat, crowskin, crossed staves

In a Field

Behaving as the wind behaves

No nearer—

Not that final meeting

In the twilight kingdom

The Hollow Men by T. S, Eliot, 1925

Dean climbed out of the Impala and almost, but not really, slammed the door. "Jesus, Garth!" he grumbled, "where the hell are we, the ass end of nowhere in particular?"

He had parked in front of a motel that had individual run-down cabins as rooms. The one he pulled up in front of had wooden siding that had weathered to a grey color. In some of the more protected areas it looked like at one time it had been blue, but no longer. Garth's skinny form lounged in the open doorway.

"Knew you'd love it, Dean," Garth replied. "Did you enjoy the wonderful city of Valentine? You passed through on your way here."

"Is that what that was?" Dean asked. "I remember a stop light. There were some buildings around it. "

Garth shifted out of the way and let Sam past him with a couple of duffels. "Yes sir, largest city in the area, population 2,700 plus. They even have their own web site. Actually, more like a web page on the State web site. I would have advised them to pop for the extra fifty bucks to hire someone who spoke English to write it. Although I have to admit, the fractured English sure makes it memorable"

"Why are we here?"

Garth laughed, "Location, location, location, that's why. We're about 30 miles south of Valentine and 15 miles north of Elroy's bar. That's the bar all your playmates are hanging around."

They moved into the cabin and shut the door. There was a bored air conditioner running that just managed to stir the ever-present dust enough to get it airborne.

On the rickety desk there were brochures extoling the area's attractions; Nebraska's highest waterfall on the Niobrara "Scenic" River near Valentine, all of twenty two feet high and the Merritt Reservoir on the Snake River, south of the Samuel R. McKelvie National Forest, a forest made up mostly of grass with islands of pine trees, each one loving planted by hand. Dean was right; it was the ass end of nowhere.

Dean had been recently thrown naked over a waterfall higher than Nebraska's twenty two foot tourist attraction.

Dean hoisted his duffle on the table and pawed around assembling clean clothes. He intended, as soon as possible, to wash Nebraska's dust off. At the sound of a door closing he looked up to see that Sam had beat him to the shower. "Leave some hot water, bitch," he yelled.

Sam's voice floated out of the bathroom. It wasn't clear enough to understand but Sam was laughing. Dean slammed the duffle on the table again to relieve his feelings and sat down, resigned to feeling gritty for a little while longer.

"Have you found out anything about this group of Hunters at Elroys that are supposed to blow our heads off?" he asked Garth.

"Yeah, I've been checking into who's down there. A bunch of hot-headed self-righteous bastards for the most part." Garth scratched at his scruffy hair. "We have a spy on site, the bar maid, Elsie. She's a good ole girl, heart's in the right place but as tough as they come. She's been there for just about thirty years, on her third set of owners now. She outlasted the rest.

"Last guy was Chuck Elbert, wasn't it?" Dean chimed in "Didn't he get his leg taken off by something nasty a couple of years ago?"

"He figures it was a werewolf or a were bear." Garth agreed. "He was looking for the wolf but says whatever ripped his leg off seemed to be bigger than he expected. He's still around. Lives up in Valentine. He's going to be joining us for our little trip down to Elroy's"

Garth stood and opened the min-fridge. "Want a beer? Sounds like Sam is going to be in the shower for a while."

Dean cocked an ear and could hear Sam singing. "Yeah, he's only on the second verse. I think he knows about five of them and then he starts over. Bitch."

"Dean," Garth started. "Are you sure this is the best way to approach this? I mean, you're bold but somebody in that group might just shoot you on sight for the principal of the thing."

"I know," Dean agreed, "but I want to see if we can cut down on the numbers a little. I think we can get Tom and Andy out of there. They're bone deep cowards without Rafe to hold them up. Did you have any luck making your calls?"

"I got through to a couple of them but these are people I don't usually call. They may be good Hunters but that doesn't mean that they're good people, "Garth shook his head.

"The ones I have a relationship with agreed it was something of a witch hunt but they hunt witches too so they don't see the problem. I think I convinced maybe three of them that it would be in their best interests not to get involved with Walt and Roy's problem. If we're lucky they are already gone."

"Well, as they say, every little bit helps. Who have we got to go with us?" Dean asked. "As long as we're with potential witnesses they're unlikely to shoot on sight. I understand the bar owners are out of the loop. How the hell did they manage that?"

"Willful ignorance, according to Elsie," Garth huffed. "Couple of guys out of Pittsburgh. She figures they were running from trouble. I guess they thought that country living was clean living. Too bad, so sad. What a surprise they have in store if they ever open their eyes."

"Who else you'd get?"

"Rosemary is coming down from Sioux Falls. She owes a debt to Bobby and figures this will clear her conscious." Garth went on, "and Bob Brilling out of Lincoln said he'd come."

Garth looked at his watch. "They should all be getting her within the hour. Then we'll load up and go down to Elroys. That makes the two of you, four of us plus Elsie and the bar guys. Seven witnesses are way too many for anyone to want to start shooting. "

He hesitated and smiled. "I might have given the Sheriff up in Valentine the impression that some kind of drug deal might be going down in Elroy's this evening. There might be a deputy somewhere on the premises."

Dean laughed. "Good job. Bob Brilling, Bob Brilling, that name is familiar. Didn't he have some kind of falling out with Dad some years back?"

"Come on, Dean." Garth rolled his eyes. "Who didn't have a falling out with John? Bob said that was John's fault, not yours. He saw no reason to let you get shot over your father's mouth all these years later."

A vehicle pulled up outside and the first of their escort showed up. Chuck Elbert came in with a cane to help him balance on his artificial leg. He accepted a beer from Dean and sat down to catch up on Hunter gossip with Garth. Dean certainly didn't know any gossip since he'd been out of circulation for months up in the mountains

Chuck was a big man with dark hair and eyes that had looked at too many monsters over the years. In a way he was lucky he lost his leg. Few Hunters ever got to retire. They mostly died on the job.

Sam finally exited the shower and Dean took his place. Chuck definitely was interested in meeting Sam. Hunter gossip had been going around about Sam for years. In a way he had become more a legend than a person. It was a hunt for Sam years ago that had started Walt and Roy down their murderous path.

When Dean came out of the somewhat tepid shower a little while later both Rosemary from Sioux Falls and Bob Brilling were crowding around the inadequate motel table. Rosemary reminded Dean of a younger Ellen Harvelle and Bob Brilling was one of John's Winchester's class of Hunter, steady, dependable and haunted. About fifty years old with a full head of salt and pepper hair, Dean figured he had to be good to have made it to fifty still in one piece.

Everyone had a beer in hand and were trading stories back and forth. Sam seemed comfortable with them and they seemed to accept the "weird" Winchester son as well. Dean thought that they might just pull this off. He sat on the bed and gathered his thoughts.

"So guys," Dean got everyone's attention. "I want to really thank you all for offering to help. We want to pull the plug on Walt and Roy's hunt. I want you to know, though, that if you are of the "if it's Supernatural we kill it" mindset you might have trouble with me and Sam. Those Hunters at Elroys have their opinions. Me and Sam believe that if it's evil you kill it. They believe if it's not human you kill it. Two completely different mind sets that have ended up with Hunters split in opposing camps."

"You need to know that the guys at Elroy's have a point. Sam started out as just a psychic, like Missouri Mosley and Pamela Barnes and other people I suspect you know and appreciate. Due to our experiences with the supernatural both me and my brother have been changed. In a way, we never had a chance. We were born cursed and have learned over the years to deal with it."

"Lately things have accelerated and now not even we know what we are any more. I just know that Sam and I are not evil and we don't deserve to die. It's a kind of racism. Odd, but true. These guys want to kill us not for anything we have done to them just for what we are. So , like I said, we appreciate your help. Thank you."

Chuck Elbert was the first to stand. "Well, let's get going and find out what these people have done to my bar." He turned to Garth. "Does Elsie know I'm coming?"

XXXXXXX

An hour later the Impala and a black SUV pulled up in front of Elroy's bar. Three people got out of each vehicle and headed for the door. There was a man standing in the shadows that Dean suspected was the Sherriff's Deputy. They looked like a suspicious group, perhaps even the expected drug runners, so Dean was not surprised when the man threw his cigarette away and followed them inside.

Dean led the way in with Sam acting as his huge shadow. As soon as they were in the door the room fell silent. There was a clock over the bar and you could hear it ticking. Their group headed for the empty bar stools.

"Winchester!" Walt stood and shouted. "You got a lot of balls showing up here. No freaks allowed."

Dean swing around on his stool and stared Walt in the face. "If you've got a problem, Walt, we'll see you outside later. Right now we're here for the Cantrells."

At the shout of "Winchester", the bartender had frozen in place, in the middle of passing out beers to Dean's group.

Elsie came up behind the bartender and slapped him with her bar rag. "Ok, Ron, you wanted to know. Now you're going to see. Don't try anything stupid. Finish passing out the beers."

Dean was looking directly at Andy and Tom. Andy was shaking so bad you could hear his beer bottle rattling against his teeth. Dean stood up and walked to the Cantrell's table, confident that Sam and the others had his back. One or two of the seated Hunters made movements towards their weapons but Dean just looked at them. He started to bring up his glow and felt the effect move across the room.

He knew that in this darken place he might be starting to light up but he didn't care. He leaned his arms on the Cantrells' table. "I want you both to get up and follow me out of here. I'm not going to hurt you but you can't go on spreading shit about me and Sam. I don't like it."

He turned and walked towards the door. He could hear the scrape of chairs behind him and he hoped it was only the Cantrell boys getting to their feet. He nodded to Bob Brilling and Bob also headed to the door. Dean removed the Cantrells from the group as neatly as a cowboy cutting steers from a herd.

Outside Dean turned and looked at the Cantrell boys. They both appeared stunned that they had actually followed Dean outside, away from the safety of the bar.

"Look, I'm not going to hurt you, relax," Dean started. "I want you to get in your car, and leave and keep going. You know as well as I do that neither of you is cut out to be a Hunter. You're going to get yourselves killed. Get away from these people. Don't come back or I'll find you again and then I will kill you both. Got it?"

The Cantrells left. Dean didn't think they were going to be a problem anymore.

As he was standing there, other Hunters who had come at Walt and Roy's call starting leaving the place. Some tried to stare him down as they passed but others pulled at their hats or nodded. They knew courage when they saw it and Dean was hoping that they remembered back when things were clearer and the Winchesters had their backs. Some had hunted with John or Bobby.

Finally Dean's group came out, surrounding Sam. A disappointed Deputy trailed behind evidently completely confused by what had just happened.

Garth turned to the Deputy. "Sorry man. I was the one who called you guys. I guess I got it all wrong. It wasn't a drug thing, it was a personal vendetta. Totally my mistake. Please tell the Sheriff I'm sorry. I'll make it up to him somehow."

The deputy waved Garth off and got into his car. Dean though that maybe only Walt and Roy were left inside. He turned to Sam. "What do you want to do, little brother?"

Sam looked at Dean. "I'm going to want you to leave them up to me. We are going to let the Sphinx take care of them. There is a plan and they are going to suffer for what they did." Sam leaned against the impala and settled down to wait.

Inside the bar there was only Walt and Roy, one lone and confused real customer and Ron and Elsie.

Ron turned to Elsie. "What just happened here? Was that guy glowing? Did you see that"

"Winchesters" said Elsie. "Winchesters happened here. Now you know a little bit." She nodded over at Walt and Roy. "They are all that's left. I have a feeling we are going to lose a couple of steady customers tonight. The Winchesters are probably going to take out the trash."