'I don't know how long it's been exactly...all I know is that I gave my one last granola bar to Sam.' His arms were crossed gently over his abdomen for Dean was feeling slightly nauseous; it was one of the effects he suffered from when having not eaten hour after hour. Breathing slow and deep helped ease the discomfort somewhat but he knew it would only be temporary. Dean glanced at his father's profile and reflected, 'He's got that tight face...whatever Dad's thinking about, it isn't good...no need to remind him about eating just yet.'
At the ages when his sons were capable of comprehending, John made it known in no uncertain terms that, unless there was an extremely important matter which couldn't wait, he be allowed to just drive in peace.
Dean and Sam got older and, respectively, they not only shared in the driving more and more, but increasingly assisted in hunting the supernatural. Contributing in this way induced John to gradually relax his "no talking while I'm behind the wheel" rule. Nevertheless, the boys still complied out of habit and a good majority of the time spent in the car consisted of self-imposed silence.
On this part of their journey John happened to be systematically reviewing all he had learned over the years about the thing that killed Mary. Though he had it all memorized, John cataloged almost everything - intentionally left out what he knew about the other children like Sam - on this particular investigation. These notes were kept apart from his journal, in a folder at Bobby Singer's place, with instructions to pass it on to his sons should he be killed.
Going over the whole bit in his mind led John to realize what he wanted to do once this hunt was done. He decided that enough time had been spent dealing with random supernatural entities and picking up the trail of Mary's murderer was now long past due. He concluded to himself, 'the boys will lie low at Jim's place. I'll meet up with Bobby and hash out some new leads.'
Meanwhile, John's more immediate promise to Dean - that they would stop for food once in the next state - was never far from his mind. Nearing the end of Pennsylvania, the groans from his empty stomach grew steadily stronger. However, he was unwilling to even consider being shortsighted and, as a test of strength for all parties involved, held out for Ohio.
Once that state line was crossed, John found he could think of nothing else but of going somewhere to get food. 'It's been over 10 hours since we ate anything much,' the father rationalized as he caught a glimpse of his oldest son—Dean was practically squirming. 'Yeah...time to stop soon.'
It was not long before John spotted the exit he wanted. "I know a place we can eat...just hang on a little longer guys."
He heard Dean let out an exhale of relief and, from somewhere behind him, a whispered "Thank God!"
Once off the highway, the sun's imminent disappearance past the horizon was more noticeable for the numerous trees along the isolated road created such lingering shadows. John flipped on the headlights and about a minute later, a sign with the words "The Sawed-Off Saloon" was illuminated before them. Below it was an arrow that indicated motorists needed to take a right turn.
Dean swiveled his head side to side with an astonished expression. "There's no other business around...where the hell else would anyone turn?"
John's mouth curled slightly in silent agreement as he maneuvered their car off the road. The loose gravel crunched under the Impala's tires until he put the engine in park just outside the front entrance.
In scanning the lot a frown returned to his face. Though John was relieved to see that it was practically deserted, for he was too tired to put more than a handful of people under the microscope, he was aware they would stand out more. 'If it's not one thing, it's another,' he observed grimly.
Meanwhile, Dean was troubled that his brother hadn't predictably ridiculed him over his rhetorical question. He leaned over to the back and asked, "Sammy? You still with us?"
Sam was lying on his side and glanced up. "Yeah, I'm with you...you're a friggin' dumbass, okay?"
"That was lame, Sammy, even for you. Well, we're here...time to eat," Dean soothed.
Having turned off the engine, John heard Sam haul himself up. "Dad, have you been here before? You sure this place is alright?"
John sighed at the predictable inquiry. Keeping his eyes forward, he said, "Sam, I have been here before, this place will be suitable...there are no cameras and the people who come here also like to avoid attention...if there's any problem, I'll handle it."
Sam hoped, for the sake of those inside, there wouldn't be any trouble.
"That's good enough for me," Dean said as he reached for his door then, half in jest, asked, "hey, Sammy, do you need us to carry you inside?"
"Shut up, Dean."
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Dean was the first to jump out of the car and swiftly started toward the restaurant. 'I am so fucking hungry!...ten beautiful, naked women smiling at me couldn't stand in my way,' he speculated as he reached for the door. Pulling it open, the nineteen year old paused...'what the hell am I talking about? Of course they could!' In an attempt to get the lewd image out of his mind before his body could react, he shook his head and stepped inside.
The interior, shouting dreary with its dark brown paneling was made more so by the lack of sunlight. The establishment was divided into two sections; the one he was standing in contained the seating for dining and within the area off to his left, he spotted a few pool tables.
Dean immediately noted a couple of men sitting at the bar before him, nursing their beers, and off to his right a middle-aged group, two men and two women, sat in a booth eating their meal. He shot his best 'what the hell are you looking at' expression to those who angled their faces in his direction; immediately they all broke eye contact and spun their heads back around.
Dean didn't mind the scrutiny but knew it bothered Sam. 'All clear, Sammy,' he asserted to himself as his dad and brother passed through the door behind him.
"Seat yourselves where you like..." called out a female voice that belonged to a woman as she peaked through what seemed to be the kitchen door. She was in her twenties with light brown skin and hair cropped close to her head; her appearance briefly elicited an expression of approval from the nineteen year old.
Following Dean, the Winchesters strolled single file, passed the group in the booth, to the furthest table.
"Just get me what you're getting," John said before he veered off toward the men's room.
Even though he himself was operating on reserves, once seated opposite each other, Dean sympathized over Sam's sluggish demeanor. "You okay?"
Sam nodded. "I will be. Just knowing we'll eat soon helps."
The boys simultaneously picked up their menus and, as they read, noticed that the place was virtually silent but for the muffled conversation coming from those at the far booth.
Dean's face lit up a few seconds later. "Awesome," he whispered.
Unable to contain himself, Sam immediately grinned and he put down his menu. "I know what you see...apple fucking pie. You're so damn easy."
Dean's eyes sparkled, still looking at his menu. "Oh, yeah," he said in a lasciviously low voice.
"I also know you're gonna get the bacon cheeseburger."
"Don't you mean 'bacon-fucking-cheese-burger?'"
"Just tell me if I'm right."
Dean set his menu down, to find his brother looking sharply at him. "Okay...guilty...jeez, you're touchy when you're hungry...truth is, I'm thinkin' I want to get twenty burgers and a whole pie...but..."
"...you won't."
"I won't," Dean confirmed. "I know my limits." He then switched his gaze to look behind Sam, indicating someone was approaching.
Dean tilted his head up and flashed bright eyes to acknowledge the woman as she appeared by their table; it was the same one who first spoke to them. "I'm Sylvia. How're you doin' tonight?"
"I'm great," Dean said, smiling wickedly.
"We're fine, thanks," Sam added with a glare at Dean that conveyed 'what the hell are you doing?'
Dean shrugged his shoulders and mouthed "what?" back.
Sam just rolled his eyes.
"Do you know what you want or do you need more time?" she asked as she looked shyly down at her notepad.
"I'm all set...I'll get two bacon cheeseburgers, coffee, and apple pie...if you have it..." started Dean.
"We do," she said with obvious gratitude that her customer stuck to polite dialogue. She then changed her position and looked expectantly to Sam. Dean was the only one not distracted enough to notice John coming near.
"I'll have the same," said Sam while looking straight at her and she returned a smile. "And my dad..."
"...will have what they're having..." said John.
"Oh!" Sylvia stammered then jumped, startled over his sudden appearance beside her.
"...except for the coffee," he added. "Sorry, sweetheart."
"That's alright."
She stepped aside to let John get to his seat which he chose to be next to Dean, back toward the wall. She gathered up the menus and stated, "I'll be back with some water."
John's rapid return - quicker than expected - coupled with his silence communicated the "all clear". Therefore, Dean carried on as customary and smirked at Sam. "What, no tofu broccoli bean salad instead?"
Sam only scowled in response then slid his chair back to stand. After he took a couple of steps toward the rest room, John noticed that the younger of the two men shifted one of his legs as if he was preparing to get up. Quietly, John cleared his throat and imperceptibly nodded his head toward the bar.
Dean caught the signal and immediately jumped up. Not one to follow his brother going into a bathroom, he breezed by Sam to reach the door first.
Sam stopped short, sighed toward the ceiling and thought, 'jeez, I'm fifteen...when will they ever let me grow up?' Not wanting to create a scene, he then resumed his stride, purposely ignoring the brief hooded stare of the men as he passed by.
John watched his sons until they were out of sight and eased his posture when it was clear both men were staying seated. 'Thanks Dean,' he thought. 'I can always count on you.'
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Coming out of the restroom, Dean's eyes went right to their table and saw his dad sitting there, head bent forward, fingertips massaging his temples.
"Sammy'll be right out...he sure does wash his hands thoroughly," Dean quipped once he arrived at his seat.
John nodded slightly in acknowledgement.
Dean frowned. "How are you doing Dad?"
"I'm fine."
"Come on, Dad…the truth."
John straightened his back slightly and faced forward, squinting despite the darkened atmosphere. "Okay, I'm tired." He then turned to Dean who had since seated himself. "I drove longer than I planned on." John's stare turned inward and he said wistfully, "I'm not the same person I was twenty years ago...then, I could drive twenty-four hours straight." His focus abruptly returned back to his son. "You'll have to drive next."
As his father was speaking, Dean had noticed his brother heading toward them. "Of course," he replied slightly louder than necessary so Sam would hear and ask...
"Of course, what?"
Dean grinned. "Of course you're a pain in the ass."
Sam sat in his seat with a huff. "You're such a jerk, Dean."
Their attention was grabbed by the waitress who returned and set down three glasses. "Here's some water for y'all..your food will be out shortly," she said then pointedly smiled again at Sam. "Thanks," he whispered, throat suddenly tight.
Sam's eyes tracked along with her retreating form; he surreptitiously watched her hips sway as she walked over to the patrons sitting at the bar. Immediately he picked up one of the glasses with a shaky hand and started to drink.
"Ah Sammy, here's some free advise...you'll never get far with a woman if you virtually pass out every time they lay their eyes on you," Dean observed before he took a swallow of water himself.
"I didn't almost pass out!"
Dean shrugged. Sam then turned toward their father and said, "Dad, you should drink some water, too...keeping hydrated helps headaches...I can tell you have one."
"So Sam, about what time do you expect we'll be out of Ohio?" John inquired as he reached for a glass.
"Should be around 11 pm."
"Well, I'll call Caleb sometime tomorrow to let him know we're well on our way."
'And that's another thing...not only can't I go to the damn bathroom alone...Dad hides us from practically all other hunters,' Sam thought and grumbled, "I could count on one hand the number of other hunters Dean and I've met."
John glanced at each of his sons then narrowed his eyes. "I have my reasons."
"Dude, control your PMS," Dean added.
Sam took a deep breath in and out. "Dad, can you tell us how you first met?"
After a few seconds of silence, John said, "I met him while I was at Pastor Jim's place...back in the winter of '91 or '92."
"I remember you once mentioned him for the first..."
Suddenly there was a crash of dishes that came from behind the kitchen door and they heard a female voice say, "Oh no!" followed by a string of colorful curses spoken by an irate man.
"...time around the beginning of January so it was definitely when you were away in December…so it was '91."
Sam could tell by the rustling nearby coupled with his dad and brother's standard rigid posture that the four people on the other side of the room had gotten up and were heading out the door.
John continued to speak once they were clear. "Right...he was passing through. We were introduced and I've been acquiring weapons from him ever since."
"Dad, will I get a...
Suddenly, Dean kicked Sam's leg under the table and shot him an expression that conveyed, 'shut up, the waitress is coming.'
"...gun?" Sam finished in a whisper, rubbing his leg.
The waitress possessed an apologetic look on her face as she set down two plates, one in front of Sam and the other between Dean and John. "I'm so sorry to say but I dropped one of your plates in the kitchen...more burgers are being started but will be a few minutes...I am really sorry."
John pushed his plate toward Dean and said, "That's okay, we'll take them to go."
"Oh, you know what, let me get another plate and you can each start with one of the burgers."
"Sounds awesome," Dean said sarcastically. Sam inconspicuously stomped on Dean's foot under the table, partly for payback, and they quickly glared at each other before looking off into different directions.
John silently moaned then added, "we'll take the check now, too."
"Sure, here ya go," she reached in a pocket and plunked it face down. "just let me know if there's anything else I can get you."
"Our coffee and pie?" Dean asked.
"Oh, yeah! I'm so sorry," she answered with a nervous giggle and rushed back to the kitchen.
"Dad, I should get a gun," Sam stated.
"Sam," Dean warned, then gently shook his head.
"What?"
"Just, let's eat," John said tiredly.
His father suddenly appeared to Sam as a young boy; filled with sympathy at his dad's devitalized state, he pushed his plate over to him. "It's okay, Dad," Sam said softly. "You haven't slept yet. You eat everything now so you can sleep right away in the car...I'll have one of Dean's."
At that, John and Sam shared a rare smile and Dean relaxed his shoulders for the first time since arriving at the "Sawed-Off Saloon". Dean then he focused on his food.
"Huh," Dean said after taking a large bite. He tilted his chin toward the connecting room off to the right of him and, mouth full, said, "hey Sam, too bad no one is over there...you could have put your pool table skills to good use and earned us a few."
Before anyone could respond, the waitress appeared once again and set down a plate in front of Sam. "Here you go," she said then left quickly.
"I think she likes you," Dean said around another mouthful to Sam who reached for the untouched second burger. "Maybe she's looking for something in return...more than a tip."
John swallowed and said, "that's enough, Dean, she seems to be just a nice girl. As for hustling, there wouldn't be any time anyway and we need all our cash...we don't have enough for a good hustle. Sam, tell Dean the route you planned…he's definitely gonna drive next."
"We're in Ohio, just off route 70, so next will be Indianna then Illinois - route 70 then route..."
"'Route' is such a funny sounding word, especially when you say it."
"...71." Sam delivered Dean a sour look. "Come on, Dean...then get on to route…"
"Whoa, slow down there, Jason Bourne...one state at a time. You and Dad and your friggin' photogenic memories."
"It's photographic memories."
Dean shook his head. "Man I hate long road trips...I just wish we could be there already."
"Like the transporters in Star Trek?" Sam said, perking up.
"You're such a friggin' geek...you'd never get me into one of those things...no damn way...no one is depolarizing my body!"
"Calm down, Dean...I don't think your great-great grandkids would even have to worry...such technology is not possible."
"Okay, Sam. Just shut up and eat."
The waitress had delivered the coffee and pie promptly and the Winchesters hurried through the rest of their meal in silence. Toward the end, she returned to place a paper bag, already starting to soak through with grease, on their table.
"Y'all have a great night."
'Oh fucking great,' thought Sam at once. 'I'm not eating that.' He then picked up the bill after the waitress left. "Hey, she didn't charge us for these cheeseburgers."
"She wrote that check before she dropped them, Sammy...like I said, she may be expressing an interest."
John twisted slightly to reach for his wallet behind him. "Hmm...that reminds me, Sam...when it's light out again, add in two stops...Springfield, Illinois and Boulder, Colorado."
"Why those places?"
"I have PO Boxes rented out there."
"We're really short on cash...again?"
"Just do what you're told Sam, without the attitude." John then instantly stood up, plunked down some money onto the table, grabbed the bag and marched toward the exit without looking back.
Sam turned toward Dean, his eyes wide in earnest. "I didn't give him an attitude!"
"You may think you didn't but you did."
"What? How?" he asked heatedly.
"Let's just go Sam." Dean said with a tired sigh, pushing himself out of his chair.
Sam followed his brother as he made his way out. "I am not selfish...I hardly own anything, I hardly ask for anything...I never complained once when we leave all my books and stuff behind."
'So it does bother him after all,' Dean thought. "Sam, I didn't say you're selfish, just cut Dad some slack is all."
"Maybe if he didn't spend so much on booze..." Sam mumbled.
Dean pushed through the door and didn't bother to hold it for Sam. It was virtually dark out when they headed back to the car where their father was waiting for them. Sam purposefully strode to the back door, opened it, and climbed partially in.
"What the hell are you doing?" Dean asked. "I'm driving you know, you're up front with me."
Sam straightened back up, toothbrush and paste in one hand, bottle of water in another. "Just need a couple of minutes...I want to brush my teeth."
Dean pointed at the white paper bag now on the roof of the car. "You've got another cheeseburger there."
Sam turned away as he said, "you can have it...I'm not hungry anymore."
Dean looked to his dad who had ambled over to the trunk, rummaged through his duffel bag, and straightened up with his own toothbrush in hand.
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With very few other cars in the vicinity, Dean relied heavily on the Impala's headlights to guide him as he sped along the pitch dark highway. He had since finished the other two cheeseburgers and, physically satisfied, settled in for a long stretch by turning on his Led Zepplin cassette tape, volume kept just loud enough to be heard over the throaty engine.
Behind him, John snored softly and steadily. A strong essence of alcohol emanated from him - it was all that remained of the liquor his father previously consumed. The empty bottle had just fallen from John's slack hand when the car bounced over bump in the road and it joined the cheeseburger wrappers on the floor. Relishing the scent of whiskey that permeated throughout their car's interior, Dean breathed in and out contentedly.
When one of his favorite songs ended, Dean glanced to his right. Sam, who had not said a word since leaving the restaurant, remained fixed in his position, doing nothing but staring out his window. The fraction of his face Dean could see was cast in a greenish hue lit by the soft dashboard lights.
Dean cleared his throat. "This was the state where I first kissed a girl...I'll never forget it."
Taken by surprise, Sam jolted slightly. He faced Dean as a tiny smile developed. "Dude, I'll say it again...you're like practically thinking about sex all the time."
"Guilty as charged," Dean replied. "Once you do it, you never can go back."
John suddenly let out a loud gasping snore which reverberated all around them. "Shit!" Dean yelped and reflexively pushed the brake causing the car to falter.
Realizing it was nothing but his dad, Dean resumed pressing the gas; Sam meanwhile whipped his head around to the back seat and saw his father sprawled out, mouth hanging open. Though the car's change of speed didn't cause John to awaken, he shifted his position and angrily muttered some unintelligeble phrase. The brothers looked at each other, both sets of eyes sparkling with amusement.
John stayed quiet after that. The brothers chuckled for a few seconds then Dean sighed and turned off the music. "What about you?"
Sam frowned. "Not yet."
"What about that girl back in Lincoln?"
"Nothing happened with her," Sam lied. "She basically told me to get lost…that her mother didn't allow her to talk to boys."
Dean glanced at him quickly and couldn't see Sam's face as he had returned to looking out the window. "Huh...well, don't let it get you down…I'm sure she was telling the truth…like I said before, I've seen you turn some heads."
"Thanks, Dean, for trying to make me feel better…it does and it means a lot to me, even if I don't show it."
"Dammit, Sam..." Dean started.
Sam turned back to face his brother and the smile reappeared. "Don't worry, we don't have to hug. Just want you to know Dad just gets to me sometimes and when I act mad it has nothing to do with you..."
Dean froze and clenched the wheel.
"It's okay...I can tell Dad is still sound asleep."
Dean quickly turned his head to the back seat, saw that Sam was right and relaxed. "Come on Sam...what have I told you before?...every time Dad is short with you or bossy it's his way of showing he cares about you."
Sam huffed in frustration; he had, in fact, heard these words many times before. "Yeah, I know."
"So you're good, right?"
"Right," Sam said simply.
"Anything else you want to talk about?"
"Besides sex?" Sam laughed. "You'd do that for me?"
"Sure. I am capable of thinking with my upstairs brain."
Sam looked down at his hands and after about a minute, said, "do you remember another first? You and Dad were hunting a werewolf…it was your first kill. You never really told me about that. How'd you deal with it?"
Dean furrowed his eyebrows. "Why do you want to know?"
"No reason...just curious, you know."
"Well...it's just that it was coming at me and Dad and I just reacted...afterwards I just told myself that I killed something evil."
"You didn't freeze at all?"
"Not even for a second. Thanks to Dad...his training... I was more than ready."
"Yeah," Sam sighed. "So you're happy with this life?"
"Definitely. I can't imagine not hunting...just going through life living normal."
Dean quickly glanced at Sam, saw his disappointed expression, then turned back to watch the road. "Come on Sam, we've lived this life our whole lives...it's too late for us to live differently."
"I'm starting to get that."
"I know. Back in Amherst it was the first time you focused more on hunting than school...I don't even know why you bothered with school at all...it was the last week before summer break."
"I just went to take the finals and have that on my record...keep my options open. Hey! I didn't think you even knew I was at school...all of your free time was thinking about that girl next door...Rhonda Hurley?"
"Mmmm," Dean murmured then shook his head and came back to the present. "I noticed! I remember everyone at school looking at you like you had two heads...showing up as a new kid the last week of school."
"Whatever."
"So are you gonna give up school?"
"I think so...I'd hate it if I wasn't prepared if something came up."
"You know, hunting means moving a lot...you hate that."
"I remember that for you it's the opposite...remember that time Dad was too injured to travel..."
"For weeks!" Dead added, horrified at the memory. "Man, I was miserable"
"...you actually had to get a job and when you weren't working, had gone out for target practice or to run for hours every day to keep from going stir crazy." Sam realized that he wasn't the only one to sacrifice and felt better - just a little. "I guess if I don't stick with school, moving around a lot won't be so bad." Sam paused for a moment. "Dean, why did you just bring up one of the things I hate about hunting?"
"I don't know...what else do you hate?"
"I really hate being left behind...worrying about you and Dad when you're gone."
Dean's jaw clenched. "Sam, you know Dad plans on involving you more in this hunt...not just research."
Because of his brother's strained tone, Sam looked at Dean and saw his eyebrows furrowed in the muted dashboard light. "Dean, what's wrong?"
"This is fucked up Sam," Dean blurted out. "I don't think you're ready."
"What? Why not? I'm fifteen now, the age when you first killed..."
"Yeah but I got a bad feeling about this one."
"Dean, you worry too much...back at that gas station, you were freaking out when I didn't come back right away..."
"Yeah, but it was because I had a weird feeling back there, like I was being watched."
"Why didn't you say something? Did you see anything?"
"No...it was over so fast...except there was that friggin' crazy cashier...well, now I don't know what happened." Dean shrugged his shoulders at Sam's uneasy expression. "The point is...I know you are good but...dammit! I guess what I am trying to say is if you're stupid enough to get yourself hurt, I'm gonna kick your ass."
"Dean, you're not making any sense. I would think Mom wouldn't want you and me to live like this...to do what we're doing. That I would understand. But you? How can you say I should keep out of it?"
Sam waited for a response from Dean but it was clear he wasn't going to answer; Dean just kept his eyes on the road, hands gripping the wheel.
"I am ready...I will be careful. But you have to be careful too...just worry about yourself and we'll all be fine."
"You better get some rest, you might be driving next."
"Okay. You'll be alright? You can turn back on some music if you want."
Dean shook his head. "I'll be okay."
"Dean, remember what you said earlier...about kissing monsters?"
Dean glanced at Sam with a puzzled expression. "Okay, random...yeah, so?"
"Nevermind." Sam shifted onto his right side, pulled his knees up, and closed his eyes. "Wake me up if you need me to drive."
Dean shook his head then peaked at his dad in the rearview mirror. 'Dad and Sam with their secrets...speaking of secrets...' Rhonda Hurley came back into his thoughts and he felt a little twitch between his upper thighs.