Dean sat horrified, staring into Bobby's equally wide eyes. "That's how I left him, Bobby."
"Dean, I don't …" Bobby started, then cleared his throat and tried again, "I … so … that's why you wouldn't tell me where Sam's been all this time? That's why you said he was staying with friends?"
"I guess. Maybe. I don't know." He answered miserably. "All this time I've been looking for Dad, and I just forgot that I threw Sammy away? How could I have done that? What's wrong with me?"
"A spell is a powerful thing, Dean."
"I left him alone on the other side of the country, Bobby!"
"Didn't he ever try to call you? I know he never called me."
"I don't know." Dean said and began frantically searching his pockets. He found his phone and flipped it open. "I don't have any missed calls." He said mournfully.
Bobby stood up and moved to stand behind Dean, peering over his shoulder at the phone. "But you have 18 saved calls? What's that about?"
"What? I never save calls. I listen to 'em and delete 'em." Dean hit the button to listen to the last archived call and put it on speaker. It was dated for three weeks earlier. The voice That Dean hadn't heard in close to a year suddenly filled the room. He would have known it anywhere.
"Hey Dean … I know I promised I wouldn't call again, but I'm pretty drunk, so … why the hell not, right? I'm still in Kankakee, man, just sitting here on a park bench … downing some long necks and watching the sun go down over the river. It's pretty nice, but it's sad too. I always wanted to have a beer with you, man. The things you never know you're gonna miss, you know? I hope we get that … chance someday. Tomorrow … I'm pulling out and heading … somewhere. I'm not sure where. I can't seem to connect with anyone from the old life, so maybe that's a sign that I'm not supposed to be doing … you know … what I'm doing. I just wanted to let you know that I realize all the sacrifices you made for me over the years, man, and that I really do appreciate them. And I'm sorry I got tossed in your lap … when you were just a kid and that you had to give up so much to look out for me. I hope I get the chance to pay you back someday, Dean … I really do. Anyway, hoping for a call from you every day is just more than I can do anymore, so I'm ditching this phone and cutting the ties, you know? So you can take me off the plan now. Thanks for keeping me on there this long, by the way. I sort of hope that you at least … listen to my messages before you delete them, even if you never call me back. I'd like you to know that I'm okay, even if you have cut me loose. Take care of yourself, man, and find some happy, Dean. You deserve it. I miss you, big brother."
Dean looked at Bobby in horror. "Sam's 16! He can't be drunk-calling me from a freaking park bench!"
"Well, technically, he's 17 now, right? And at least we know where he is, or was three weeks ago."
Dean stared, "Right." He said. "Where the hell is Kankakee?"
Bobby thought for a minute, " I want to say Illinois. Dean? You okay?"
"He sounds like he's a hundred years old, Bobby." Dean said softly. "That doesn't even sound like Sam." He hit the call-back button on the message and listened to the canned voice explain that there was no one to take the call. When the beep sounded, words just gushed forward like there was no stopping them.
"Sammy! Sammy, it's me. I'm so sorry, Sammy. It was a damn hex bag. But I'm out from under the spell now, and I'm with Bobby, and we're coming, okay? Please call me back. Please still have this stupid phone and call me back! We're coming, Sam. I promise."
Dean hung up and hit the next archived message.
"So, hey. Sorry we missed each other at the lodge. Maybe I should have come and looked you up, but I just couldn't find the courage, you know? You're looking real good, Dean. I was really hoping you'd stop by my room or at least call me, but it's cool, I guess. I saw you heading out. It was good to see that you're doing okay. I guess I've finally come to terms with the fact that Dad's gone. I know he'd call me back if he could. And watching you drive away … again … was pretty brutal, but I realize now that you really have made your choice. I'll stop calling, Dean, but I'll always miss you. You can call me anytime you want –day or night, it doesn't matter. I'll pick up if I see it's you. I'll always be your brother, you know, even if you don't need me so much anymore. Take care, Dean. I miss you, man."
"What's he talking about, Dean? What lodge?"
"I don't know."
"It sounds like he actually saw you out somewhere."
Dean and Bobby stared at each other. "He sounds so … defeated." Dean said.
"Play the next one."
"Hey Dean. Guess what? I'm here at the Red Deer Lodge, and I'm parked next to you in the lot. I got my driver's license and everything. Of course, it's still under my fake ID, but what the hell, Sam Jovani is a decent enough driver – for an Italian dude. The Impala's looking good, man. I couldn't resist parking my Mustang next to you, although she looks pretty sad by comparison. What do you think? I got her for a song. I know she's not a Chevy, but I gotta be my own man, you know? I won't come knocking on your door unless I hear from you, okay? But you know, today is my birthday - the big 1 - 7, right? And I can't think of any better way to spend it than with my big brother. I promise – no whining. I don't want to be a pest, but I confess I finally screwed up the courage to call the cell company and have them tag your GPS for me. I wasn't so far away, so I thought maybe we could meet up and talk over old times. I have some things to tell you about the hunts I've been doing, and I got a new .45 that's pretty slick. I'm in room 116. Hope to see you soon."
Dean stood up and launched a kick into the already broken kitchen chair. Then, for good measure, he punched a hole in Bobby's drywall next to the door.
"His birthday, Bobby." He said brokenly. "He was right there. That was that hunt in Scottsburg. We holed up at the Red Deer Lodge - that blue Mustang parked right beside us, remember? I noticed it because whoever owned it had it all shined up even though it looked like shit with rust and holes all over." That was May 2nd, and I didn't even make the connection."
"And Sam's hunting now?"
"What?"
"He said he wanted to tell you about the hunts he's been doing."
"He can't hunt! He's fucking 17! And he's all alone!"
"Well apparently somebody forgot to tell him that, Dean."
"Dammit!"
"Hi Dean. I wish I knew if you were okay. The more times I call, the more it feels like maybe it's less that you won't call me back and more like you can't. Please just let me know you're okay, man? I've given up on the idea of heading to Bobby's. I made it to Kankakee and found a job waiting tables. It pays a lot more than the bar in Elwood ever did, and I'm hoping to get an apartment soon. If things keep looking up, maybe I'll even buy an old beater, and you can customize it for me if you want. I miss the Impala, and I miss having someone to talk to. It feels like I haven't talked to anyone in ages. I've been doing a couple hunts here and there – kind of hoping to run into somebody who knows you or Dad and who can fill me in, but so far, nothing. I really hope you're okay, Dean. I miss you, man. Call me."
"He was coming here?" Bobby grumbled. "Why didn't he just call me? I'd have driven out to get him?"
"He got a job. Two jobs. Go Sammy." Dean replied softly.
"Hi Dean, it's Sam. I tried to steal a car last night, but it didn't work out too well. I guess I should have made sure the owner wasn't hanging nearby, grabbing a smoke. At least he didn't call the cops. He just beat the crap out of me instead. I'm feeling pretty low right now, Dean. If you'd call me, it would make all the difference in the world. I sure could use a friendly voice, you know? The bar where I was working folded up pretty much overnight, and the lady who owned it just packed up and left. I might try to work up my courage to steal another car, but I'm not sure I have it in me. I think I have enough money to catch the bus to Kankakee. That's probably what I'll do. Man, I miss you, Dude. Call me sometime, okay?"
"I'm not going to survive this, Bobby. I'm just not." Dean rested his head in his hands. "Some guy beat him up. He lost his job, and he gave up trying to get here."
"He's hanging in there though, Dean. Hell of a resourceful kid."
"All he wanted was for me to call him back. I don't even remember saving his calls. I had no idea he was calling me. I never listened to a single message. If I did, I don't remember."
"Well, don't beat yourself up for that. That was the spell working its charms."
"It's like I forgot I had a brother at all."
"Hey Dean … Just wanted to … ch-check in and let you know I'm okay. I got the vamp without getting too b-banged up in the process. I think I broke a rib and it's a little hard to br-breathe, but other than that, all is well. I wrapped it up, and it should be fine in a few days. I miss hanging out with you after a hunt and having you fuss over me, but I guess that was one of the things you grew to hate, so I try not to think about it too much. If you happen to be in the area, I'm still in Elwood and still working at the bar. I'll set you up if you st-stop by … anyway … I miss you. Talk to you later."
The two seasoned hunters exchanged a haunted look, as Dean skipped right to the next message.
"Hey Dean. I've been thinking about some of the things you said, and you're right. It is time for me to grow up and take some responsibility. There's some weird stuff going on around here, and I'm pretty sure it's a vampire thing. So tonight, I'm going hunting. Don't worry about me. I still have the knife you gave me, and I earned a little extra money working overtime last week so I bought a machete from the pawn shop down the street. So anyway, tonight I'm going hunting for the first time by myself. I just … I feel this need to make you and Dad proud. I'll let you know how it goes. Miss you. Call me."
"How many more are there?" Bobby asked.
Dean looked, "A lot."
"Hi Dean. Checking in again. I should probably stop bugging you, but I can't seem to make myself do it. I got a job as a bartender here in Elwood. I had to lie a little, but I still had that fake ID you made me get. So if you're ever in the area, stop by Lil's Grill and I'll set you up with a tab. It'd be great to see you again, Dean. I miss you. Call me."
"Lil's Grill?" Bobby and Dean asked in unison, exchanging a look.
"Hi Dean, it's Sam. I'm just checking in to let you know I'm still alive. I'm not sure if you really care at this point, but on the off-chance … I'm in Indiana. I ran out of money so I'm trying to find a job around here somewhere. If you give a shit, I'm in Union City. Call me if you want."
"Now he just sounds pissed." Bobby noted.
"Can you blame him?"
"Hi Dean. It's me again. I can't get hold of Dad or you or anybody. I don't have Bobby's number programmed into my phone, and he's not listed anywhere. Maybe you can call me back and leave his number on my voicemail even? I'm so pissed at you, but I'm getting a little desperate here. I have five dollars to my name, and I'm starving. Call me."
"When was that?" Bobby asked.
Dean checked the date. "About a week or so after I bailed on him."
"Hey Dean, I'm in Ohio. I have no idea where I'm going. I guess I'm heading for Bobby's. I guess you really meant what you said, and that makes me feel like shit. I'm sorry I had no idea that things were like that for you. I'm still royally pissed, but if you give me another chance, I'll do a better job at pulling my own weight, I promise. I wish you'd call so we could talk things out."
"Dean, shit. I'm tired. I've been walking for damn days, and my feet are killing me. I hate you, you jerk. This is pretty shitty."
"You're an asshole, Dean. You know that right? I'm fucking never speaking to you again, you creep."
"You tell 'im, Sam." Bobby breathed.
Dean shot him a look full of daggers, "Something you want to say, old man?"
"Who me? Not a thing. Play the next one already."
"Dean, you better fucking be dead. I'm fucking freezing out here. Call me back, jerk."
Bobby walked away, stifling what sounded suspiciously like a snicker as Dean glared at him from the table.
"Dean, I'm so fucking pissed at you I can hardly talk. This is the shittiest thing you've ever done. Dad's so going to kick your ass when he finds out you just dumped me here in Shitsburg, USA. And I'm not going to stand up for you either. I'll LET him kick your ass. I might even help. He's not taking my calls either. I can't get hold of anyone and it's damn cold out here. I had to leave the motel or they were going to arrest me for loitering. I'm on the road about ten miles out. Come get me, you asshole."
"Dean, where are you? I'm still here at the motel. I had to check out this morning. I'm trying to hang out here to wait for you, but the manager just told me I can have two more hours and then I have to move along or he's calling the cops. There's a creepy dude hanging around the picnic area, and he keeps trying to make conversation. Call me back and let me know where you are."
"Dean, why won't you take my calls? I'm sorry, all right? I don't even know what I did, but I don't want to stay here by myself all night. It's creepy here. It's out in the middle of nowhere. There's not even a damn McDonald's nearby. It's not funny anymore. I'm starting to feel panicky again. Please call me back."
Dean paused and ran his hand through his hair. He looked up at Bobby through eyes that revealed sheer misery.
"That it?" Bobby asked.
"One more," Dean answered, and hit "play message." The last one was Sam in full-blown panic mode. It was the first call he'd made after Dean had left him standing on the curb. Looking at the time of the message, Dean estimated that it was made less than an hour after he'd deserted his brother.
"Dean? Dean, please answer the phone. I don't know why you're so angry with me or what I did, but whatever it was, I'm sorry, all right? Please don't leave me here all alone. I hate it here. I've learned my lesson, okay? No more whining. I promise to God. I'll never ask you for anything again if you'll just come back and get me. Please, please come back. Please call me. Please Dean. I think I'm gonna die here and no one's ever gonna know what happened to me."
Dean placed the phone on the table and sat with his head in his hands. Bobby patted him on the shoulder once and then walked away to give the grieving boy some space. Dean waited a moment and then dialed the familiar number again. When it went directly to voicemail, he tried once more to explain himself the best way he could to the most important person in his life.