The story is going to focus on the case for a couple of chapters. I promise it's necessary to get to the [E] rating. Let me know what you think.

Road So Far - Supernatural Musical (Fan Fiction

It was early morning and the boys were in the kitchen having a simple breakfast. Sam's papers and books were scattered all around them in organized chaos.

"There are no connections between the two victims that I can see," Sam said taking an absent spoonful of his corn flakes. "One was a college kid and the other a receptionist. From what I could tell, they didn't frequent the same places. I doubt they ever even crossed paths."

"Hmm," Dean hummed.

"Luckily we won't have to wait for more victims to build a pattern. It might be a little more difficult but I think that if we can get some clues from friends and family of the victims twenty years ago maybe we can build a profile." He distractedly scratched a hand through his slightly tangled hair. He loved this part because he got a thrill from figuring out the puzzle, but he also hated it because it was time consuming and mentally draining.

"What do we know about where our two victims were grabbed?"

"The last time anyone saw the kid was on his way home from some party and Isabella left work and never made it home. Her fiance reported her missing pretty early," he picked up a paper to verify his facts. "A Luke Jacobson. Apparently she'd called him half an hour before her shift ended and told him she was coming straight home."

"And the kid?" Dean asked sipping his coffee tiredly. His voice was still gravelly from sleep, although that could just be his normal register. His voice had been dipping constantly for years now. Sam was sure that at this rate, by the time they were fifty he'd not be able to understand a word his brother said.

"No one noticed he was missing until the following night. His parents came to his dorm for a surprised visit but the roommate hadn't seen him all day and he hadn't been to any of his classes. Apparently this was worrying enough that they called the police. Kid was a scholarship student and a workaholic."

"How does the flower come into play in this?" Dean wondered.

"The flower was found in Henry's dorm room and in Isabella's car." Sam paused for a moment. "He was the same age as I was when you came to get me. Twenty two year old kid. At least I knew what was out there."

"We'll find him. Both of them," Dean assured. He wasn't sure if he'd find them alive but for sure they were going to solve this case. They couldn't not. "Come on," he said suddenly. They'd both sunk into a funk and Sam was pulling his lost puppy face again. "What are we up against? Tell me about the monster."

Sam reached for the Mayan book and opened it in front of him to a bookmarked page. "Says here that Yantho is the god of love. Unlike most cultures' myths about love gods, the Mayans' were a little more deadly. Twenty persons would be sacrificed to ensure twenty years of fertility. It doesn't say how the victims were chosen or how they were sacrificed. We do know that according to their lore, by the end of the year, the twenty victims would have been chosen. Luckily for us the Mayan year is the same length as the Gregorian calendar year so we still have time."

"How do we kill it?" Dean got up and poured himself more coffee. He topped up Sam's as well as it was running low.

"Thanks," Sam looked up briefly before going back to his notes. He took a quick sip of coffee and continued. "This god is easier than most. A gold blade to the heart. At least that's how a few of the other gods were killed. It mentions the citizens rising up against some of the gods and killing them with crude blades made out of gold. For all we know any sharp object will do it—"

"But it's better to use confirmed kill methods," Dean continued. "Well apart from finding the thing, this should be an easy hunt. What's our cover?"

"I was thinking FBI looking into a possible kidnapping ring? Maybe we were sent to see if fresh eyes can figure out why so many people go missing in El Paso and if its connected to other cases around the country. It'll give us the chance to look at the other missing persons reports and maybe find another victim of Yantho or at least a pattern."

"Page and Plant?" Dean asked. When Sam nodded, he got up, all ready to take action. He took both their bowls and giving them a quick rinse, left them in the sink. "I'm going to pack and take Baby into town for a full detailing. I'm not sure how long we'll be gone or what'll happen so I want to make sure she's ready for anything."

"Hey," Sam called. Dean was already almost out of the room. "Leave a few sets of suits out. I'll wash and iron them with mine."

"Alright. Be back in a few hours," and he was gone. Only to have his head pop back in a second later. "Don't forget to call Garth."

Finishing his coffee, Sam waved him off. They always called Garth with a brief version of their case so that he could have their backs if their FBI cover was blown or if they needed backup. The little guy was surprisingly efficient at managing the unruly hunters.

Sam got up from his seat to put his mug in the sink and decided to wash the bowls Dean had left there. He knew that Dean would do it when he came back but it wouldn't take him any time. Grabbing his seat again, he went about divvying up the list of witnesses so they could get to work as soon as they got there.

In the corner of his eye he noticed his brother's mug on the table, full and piping hot. Dean must have been so in a hurry to start that he forgot about the cup he'd poured. Sam smiled to himself and pulled the mug closer to him. Going back to his task, he took a sip from the steaming cup. He could swear that it tasted better than the one he'd had.

The day went by fast. The day before they left for a hunt always went by fast. They had so many things to do to make sure that they were ready and after so many years of it, they had it down to a science.

Dean came back later in the day after getting the car ready. He then got their weapons out and started to inventory the things that they would need. When it came to their survival, Dean was a man of focus. He would become absorbed in the task of sharpening their blades and cleaning out their guns and without fail, every night before they left for a hunt, he'd pull them out on the table and work them for hours.

It was so familiar to him that he could do it without looking, muscle memory. His ritual.

Sam knew not to try to help. It's not that he couldn't clean and calibrate a gun or sharpen a blade. It's that Dean needed to know with certainty that every single weapon in his arsenal had been inspected and verified by him or he would be distracted on the hunt, so Sam let him and trusted the quality of their weapons to him.

He made them burgers for dinner while Dean worked on the weapons and they hashed out the finer details of their cover story and the plan.

That night, for the first time in days, Sam went to sleep in his room. He was anxious the entire time that he'd have another nightmare but he couldn't keep hijacking his brother's room indefinitely. He might wear out his welcome.

Despite his concerns, he was able to fall asleep easily enough and before he knew it, Dean was knocking on his door.

"Hey Sam. Get a move on," Dean banged on his door. Groaning, Sam blindly reached for his phone. 3:56am. Four minutes before his alarm was supposed to go off. Groaning again, he sat at the edge of the bed, and closed his eyes for a brief moment.

Dean banged on his door again after a moment. "I'm up!" he yelled, seconds before his alarm went off. Turning off the annoying screeching, he counted to five and hoisted his large frame up. He flicked the light switch and looked around the room, lost for a moment. Clearly he wasn't firing on all cylinders. Absently he scratched his stomach before picking up his bags and walking out the door.

Bypassing the kitchen, he brought his bags to the bottom of the stairs in the war room. He wasn't surprised to see Dean's already there. He placed his right next to his brother's and went in search of sustenance.

Knowing Dean, he'd have them out the door by 5am and they would drive for a while without stopping so his first goal was to get something in his stomach. He padded tiredly into the kitchen and wasn't surprised to see a simple sandwich and a cup of coffee already waiting there for him.

He sat down to eat. Dean was probably in the shower already. No matter what he said about himself, Dean was remarkably efficient. He was always prepared and didn't leave anything to chance.

Sam savored the first bite of his sandwich. There was a fluffy egg omelette, bacon, sharp cheddar, tomato and lettuce. Sam's favorite.

It occurred to him as he ate his breakfast that he felt good – rested. He'd spent the night alone in his room without a single nightmare. Maybe he was cured finally and he could rest easy.

Rushing through the rest of the sandwich, Sam got up, washed his dishes and hurried back to his room. He didn't have time to be sitting around.

Before long he'd groomed, showered and dressed, opting for comfortable flannel and worn jeans. He'd be sitting all day so he might as well be as comfortable as possible. Throwing on a jacket to combat the winter weather, he turned off the night lamp and left the room.

Dean was already waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs. "Ready?" he asked Sam.

"As I'll ever be."

"Good," Dean said, bending over to pick up some of the assorted bags and heading up the stairs. Grabbing the remaining bags, Sam followed him. They turned off the lights at the top of the stairs and walked the short hallway leading out.

Baby was already packed in front of the entrance. They piled their bags in the back before climbing in and taking off down the long dirt road.

They'd been driving for about three hours now. Sam was silently going over the case again to make sure that he didn't miss anything and Dean was humming along to some classic rock, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel.

After a moment, "Aren't you tired of going over that thing Sam? It's not going to change you know."

"Yea... but I just don't wanna miss anything."

They were silent for a few minutes when Dean rejoined. "Why is this bugging you so much?"

Closing his notes for a second, Sam stared out at the moving scenery. "It feels evil."

"It's a monster Sam. Of course it's evil."

"That's not what I mean though. Okay so we chase these monsters around the country right? And I get that they kill people but they operate a certain way. Ghosts seek revenge, werewolves and vampires are driven by their impulses for hearts or blood. But this just feels wrong somehow. Sacrificing people just seems so barbaric. I don't know. The whole thing just seems... malevolent. We have to stop it."

He reopened his book and lapsed into silence.

Sam lifted his head when he felt the car start to slow down. They'd stopped a few hours back for some lunch and were making good time so he was confused for a moment until Dean said, "Speed trap ahead."

Sam nodded. It would suck if they got pulled over for any reason. Their car was filled with enough weapons to get them thrown away for life. They silently toed the line down the road for a few minutes. Not far ahead they noticed the flashing lights of a state trooper's cruiser. As they drove by, they saw that a Mercedes Benz had been pulled over and was being ticketed. Dean, being the big child that he was laughed obnoxiously for several minutes.

"Serves him right for driving a Nazi car."

"Wha-" Sam spluttered unbelievably. "Dude you can't say that!"

"Of course I can. I know Nazi when I see it. I am an expert. After all," Sam could feel his annoyance rising. He knew what was coming. "I killed Hitler."

Sam threw his hands up in exasperation. Years later and Dean was still reminding him. It's like he would look for any excuse to remind anyone who would listen.

After all these years, Sam had learned that it was best to not engage him or he'd be hearing the dreaded phrase for days on end. So saying nothing, he ignored the shit eating grin on his brother's face and opened his laptop.

"You should watch it with me Sam," Dean was saying, eyes casually taking in the sweeping landscape. "I mean they talk a lot about forensics and science but there's a lot of action scenes. You have a thing for serial killers right?"

"I don't have a thing for serial killers Dean." It was clear that he had said those words many times before from the tone of his voice. "I just think that it's interesting." He didn't know how he could explain his fascination any better to Dean and really he'd given up. He suspected that Dean understood but just enjoyed bugging him anyway.

"Well you'd like this. I'm telling you man. The female lead is this take no shit bombshell. All fiery and serious and she can kick some serious ass. I'd like to have one night with her," his eyes glazed over for a moment, making Sam feel uncomfortable.

"Gross Dean. You don't have to objectify her like that you know."

"Relax dude," Dean said, slapping him on the chest. "You know I don't mean anything by it. I'm sure she has a nice personality."

"Sure," Sam mumbled, resting his head against his side of the car. The sun was setting in the sky and if they continued at the rate they were travelling, they'd make it to their destination in a few hours. He'd done all the preparation that he could at this point. All that was left was to get to it.

The interior of the car was silent for a while save for the music playing softly around them.

"Did you have any nightmares last night," Dean asked at some point.

Sam sat up and shook his head softly. "No. I didn't," he whispered into the darkness of the car. "But it was just one night so, who knows..." he trailed off.

"You're worried you might have more?"

"I'm not sure," he murmured. "I know that the nightmares came from my fear that something would happen to you because we kept things from each other. I also have this irrational feeling that if I look away for a moment, you might... disappear." He mumbled the last part, afraid to share it for fear of the repercussions. "Since we talked I haven't had any nightmares but," there he paused for a moment. "I keep waiting for them to come and that keeps me on edge. Combine that with the fact that I think I need to know you're still here, it keeps me tense and anxious before sleeping." He hoped he was making sense. He didn't know how to tell Dean that hearing him breathe in his sleep was the best sleeping drug he could ask for so he didn't say anything else.

Dean was quiet for a few minutes. So long that Sam thought the conversation was over until Dean said, "You can always share my room anytime you want."

Sam turned to look at him in surprise.

"But we will have to trade on the bed or my memory foam might forget me."

Caught off guard, Sam let out a burst of laughter."You're an idiot." Secretly he was relieved at the open invitation.

They reached their motel room around the time that Dean had predicted. Trudging into the room with all their stuff, Sam immediately dropped off onto the bed furthest into the room. Dean always took the bed closer to the door.

He groaned tiredly. After so many years, he still felt the ache of a long drive. He rolled over onto his back lazily to see Dean giving him the most judging look possible.

"What?" he said. "I'm tired," he defended.

"Okay, princess," Dean teased as he walked to the bathroom. Sitting up, Sam looked around their room. It was painted a lime green pastel color and was smaller than usual with barely any room between the beds and even less room to the door. There was a small table with two chairs and a mini fridge.

'Eh, they'd stayed in worse,' he thought. Getting up, he rooted through one of his bags looking for a toothbrush. The bathroom door was open so he knew Dean wasn't doing anything private. He walked in and found his brother already brushing his teeth.

Giving his back to Dean, he quickly peed and washed his hand. He picked up the toothpaste just as his brother was rinsing out his mouth and the brush. Smiling at him through the mirror, Dean patted his back on the way out.

He brushed his teeth while thinking about their plans for tomorrow. He'd have a lot of work to do. He was kind of excited. What truths would he uncover?

Rinsing his mouth when he was done, he decided to take a shower. Knowing Dean, he'd want to go out tonight as it wasn't late and Sam wanted to wash the drive off him before he went out into public again.

Closing the door, he got undressed and turned on the shower. He could hear his brother moving about in the other room. The bed squeaked, Dean probably sat on it.

When steam started to rise, he pulled the cheap plastic curtain back and stepped into the water. He knew he wouldn't have long before the water turned cold.

They discussed their plans one last time after Sam stepped out of the shower and as he predicted, Dean dragged him out in search of a bar. Luckily they didn't have far to go. It was like Dean had a homing beacon for that kind of place because they found a dive not a block away from their motel.

Sam suspected that Dean chose their motel because of its proximity to the bar. Shrugging, he walked into the dimly lit building with Dean, if only to make sure he didn't over do it.

Let me know what you think of the story so far in a comment!