Dean got the following week, the week of February vacation, off from work. John said that since Dean hadn't finished paying his half of his fine off yet, they'd come back to this town after break or the hunt was over.
"Let's get a move on Sammy," John said shouldering his bag. Sam was taking his sweet time backing up.
"Why do I even have to go?" Sam whined. "It's not like I actually get to do anything, and I have a science project I gotta finish over the break."
"I'm not leavin' you alone in a motel room for a week," John sighed. "Hurry up, check out's in twenty minutes."
"What about my homework?" Sam huffed.
"I'm sure there's a library in Milwaukee you can do your homework in," John said turning toward the door. "You got ten minutes to get in the car or I'm coming up you and dragging you out. I don't care if you're done packing or not."
John slammed the door on the way out, leaving Sam and Dean alone to finishing backing up their stuff.
"This isn't fair," Sam huffed shoving his shirts into the bag. "Why can't I stay here or at one of my friend's houses?"
"You know Dad would never allow anything like that," Dean answered. "You know how he doesn't like leaving us with other people."
"He left you to fend for yourself when you were a lot younger than me, Dean," Sam spat. "For longer than a week. It's stupid."
"At least we're comin' back here," Dean reasoned. "There's that. We're not switching schools. You got that to look forward too."
"Yeah," Sam rolled his eyes. "At least I don't have to be the new kid a different school. I just get to be the weirdo new kid who lives in a hotel at this school."
Dean started to pull pictures off the mirror, the last step when packing up a place and just let Sam vent.
"Just once, Dean, just one time I wanna be normal. I wanna have a best friend and finish a school year where I started it. Every other kid ever gets to do that. It's not far that we don't. Why don't you care about it?"
"I care that you care," Dean shrugged. "Get your crap together, seriously, Dad's gonna blow a gasket."
Sam doubled checked the dresser drawers and closets before walking with Dean toward the door. Dean wrapped him arm over his shoulder and closed the door behind them as they headed out toward the car.
The Impala was a whole lot bigger when Sam and Dean were both small enough that they could take up half the back seat each when they slept. Before could barely lay down comfortably and to both fit, now Sam had to lay his tiny boney frame, basically, on top of his brother. John kept telling the boys to stop complaining that there was plenty of room, but that was easy to say when he had a whole bench seat to himself and didn't have an elbow digging into him. Dad said he wasn't shelling out for a motel room since they were only staying in Milwaukee for a few days and there was a public washroom at the YMCA that the boys could shower in. John claimed that he'd spent enough at the Best Western in Lancaster, which he didn't waste time blaming on Dean, even though there was a 100 percent supernatural free apartment building less than a block and half way that would be cheaper than spending months in a motel.
In town, John had been scoping out possibles, since the shape shifter could be anyone. He'd assigned Sam a Polaroid camera he'd gotten from a pawn shop and made him take pictures of pretty much everyone that passed on the street. Dean spent a nice long afternoon trying not to look like a creep while checking out pictures of people eyes.
"This is freakin' pointless," Sam sighed, drinking a milkshake while sitting next to Dean on a park bench. "There's, like, a million people in this town we're never gonna find 'em."
"Dad knows what he's doing," Dean answered staring at the next picture in the pile. "He's sure that the shifter's been in the square every day this month, that's where the weird sightings have been. If they've been there in the last two days we'll find them."
"There has to be an easier way," Sam said. "Do you even know what you're looking for?"
"This," Dean dropped a photo onto the bench between then and pointed to a middle aged man in a business suit. "See how his eyes are weird?"
"Glare," Sam rolled his eyes.
"No, dude," Dean shook his head. "They're, like, glowing. That means he's not him. He's a shifter. Now all we gots to do it find him, and shoot him with a silver bullet." Dean let a large smile fill his face.
"You're a freak," Sam deadpanned. "You are way too excited about killing a guy."
"Not a guy, Sammy," Dean corrected. "A monster. It's not the same at all. That thing has been posing as other people and killing their families. We gotta take care of it. That's what me and dad do. That's what you're gonna do when you can wear clothes from the grown up department." He ruffled Sam's hair and smirked.
Sam pulled away and rolled his eyes again.
"Let's go find Dad, get him to run down this guy," Dean said standing up. "Finish that up before we find him. He's really been getting on me about spending money."
"Maybe you should pay your fine," Sam answered, taking one last long drink before dropping his cup into the trash can next to the bench.
"Maybe you should stop looking hungry and growing," Dean countered. "Let's go Short stack, we gotta monster to shoot in the face."
"Someone's going to hear you someday when you talk like that," Sam said seriously as Dean directed his shoulders back toward downtown where their dad was. "And your either going to get arrested again, or end up in a mental hospital."
"Just keep thinking positive there, Sammy," Dean sighed. "It's really becoming."
The shifter was impersonating a guy called Anders, an accountant at some big firm, the details weren't exactly important. What was essential was following it and making sure it didn't kill anyone before John and Dean could get to it. Sam had as much of his science homework as he could spread across the backseat. John had the car parked across the street, watching the house through a set of binoculars.
"Look," John handed the binoculars over the Dean. "See?"
Dean peered into the house, where he saw two of Anders, one tied to a dining room chair and one causally walking around the house.
"What are we gonna do?" Dean asked.
"Hope no one drives by and sees people looking into houses with binoculars," Sam sighed. "This is so stupid."
"Shut up," Dean rolled his eyes.
"It's the middle of the day," Sam replied. "This is the dumbest thing I've even been a part of."
"Well, when you're in charge you can come up with better ideas," Dean spat back.
"I don't want to be in charge," Sam argued.
"Then you don't get to make any decisions," Dean smirked.
"Knock it off," John growled. "Both of you just stop talking."
Dean turned and stuck his tongue out at his brother.
"I said cut it out," John said smacking Dean in the chest.
"Sorry, sir" Dean mumbled. "What are we gonna do about him?"
"Wait til night fall," John shrugged. "Or until he leaves, and we follow him. Try to get him alone."
"You're basically stalking someone," Sam said. "Like a serial killer or a psychopath."
"No one asked your opinion, Sammy," Dean sighed. "So don't give it."
"Boys," John sighed. "Neither of you say anything until we get this thing."
Dean handed the binoculars back to his dad and stared straight ahead out the windshield. John turned up the radio and kept his eyes locked on the house across the street.
"As far as I could tell looking into the guy," John explained. "He's been replaced for two days, his coworkers said he's been a bit off. They also told me that his wife and daughters are up in Green Bay visiting her parents and won't be back til the weekend. This shifter's M.O. has been to sneak into families that are on vacation and takes over before killing them all. So I don't think he'll kill the real Anders until the rest of the family comes home."
Dean nodded and turned his gun over in his hand. He was pretty excited about this hunt, having the opportunity to make it right; erase all the times he'd messed up. He was ready for this, ready to prove himself. He was going to make his dad proud this time, no matter what.
The shifter left the house around five pm, and started to walk down the street, John followed him closely in the car, just far enough away to keep from being too suspicious, not matter what Sam said. The kid watched too many cop dramas on TV, not everything was going to get them arrested. He honestly just needed to chill out.
"Can you just get out of the car and follow him?" Sam whined. "This car isn't exactly the most inconspicuous vehicle in existence. We're gonna get caught."
"Sam," John said angrily. "If you don't stop whining and just do your homework, I'm gonna drop you off at the nearest fire station and leave you there."
"That only works for babies," Sam sighed.
"Which is exactly how you're acting," John said looking back into the rear-view. "Do your homework."
They followed the shifter until he turned into an alley way, then Dean jumped out of the car to follow while John pulled the car to the other end of the alley to block the way. A few moments later, John was by his side as Dean got the thing cornered. Dean's hands were shaking until he felt John's hand on his shoulder.
"You got this kiddo," John whispered as the shifter turned back toward them. "Just bottles on a fence."
Dean did his best to aim as close as he could to the shifter's heart and pulled the trigger.
The body fell with a wet thump onto the ground. Dean let out a breath he didn't know he was holding and turned wide eyed to his father.
"Good," John nodded. "You did good."
"What… what do we do with the body?" Dean asked slowly. "We can't just leave it here."
"There's a tarp in the car," John said calmly tossing Dean the keys. "We're gonna wrap it up and stick in the trunk; burn the body in the woods on the way back to Lancaster."
Dean nodded, heart still pounding hard he felt like he might vomit all over his shoes.
"Go get it," John instructed.
Dean nodded quickly again and took off toward the car. He put his palm to his mouth as he unlocked the trunk and pulled the big blue tarp out. He wasn't really sure what he was expecting when he shot the shifter, maybe that it would turn into some kind of monster instead of staying in human form, maybe that it would disappear into a puff of smoke. He just wasn't expecting it to just hit the ground with a thump. He wasn't ready to watch blood, real blood, pour out of its chest. He wasn't ready to roll a human body into a tarp like it was nothing and shove in the trunk of a car.
"You did real good," John said patting Dean on the shoulder after closing the trunk. "You alright?"
"Yeah," Dean nodded. "Yes, sir. I'm just, adrenaline I think."
"You'll get used to it," John said. "As long as you remember that you're saving people. You're doing a good thing. You did the right thing here. You stopped a killer from murdering an entire family."
"I know, sir," Dean said, finally able to look his dad in the eyes.
"Alright," John smiled taping Dean on the cheek. "Let's head back. Why don't you take the first shift driving?"
"Seriously?" Dean perked up as he took the keys dangling from John's hand. "I can drive?"
"First hundred miles," John nodded. "Should get ya some highway experience sometime."
"You're sure?" Dean said skeptically.
"You did good today," John nodded walking by him and toward the passenger's side door. "You do good, you get rewarded. That's how it works right? Just don't wreck my car and everything will be fine."
"Please don't kill us," Sam groaned when Dean got behind the wheel. "I've worked too hard on this project to die before I turn it in."
"Keep your mouth shut, Sammy," John said. "Dean's gonna do just fine."
Dean did not fit in at the school in Lancaster. He was too rough in his too big leather jacket and biker boots. He tried to charm quite a few of the girls, but they were either too intimated by his attitude or scared of him to show interest back. He simply wanted out of this town. He only had to work another week at the grocery store to pay off the last fifty bucks on his fine then hopefully Dad would let them pack up and go. He'd given up on most of his classes, just sat in the back and pretended to pay attention as teacher carried on. After the shock of the first kill wore off he was riding a high, like he could do nothing wrong. Nothing could touch him anymore, not when he was a hero, a life saver.
He sat in the back row of his homeroom class half paying attention as his guidance counselor droned about career aptitude tests, apparently there was a big career day that afternoon. All sorts of different vocations were going to be there. Dean couldn't help but chuckle thinking about his dad or Bobby in a both telling the teenagers in this town about hunting supernatural creatures. He'd pay good money to watch that.
He walked around the gym picking up pamphlets for colleges he'd never go to and jobs he'd never want, trying to please the adults around him until he saw the firefighter table. The man standing on the other side wasn't much older than Dean, maybe in his early twenties. Dean sauntered over and picked up the materials.
"Think you're interested?" the young fire fighter said.
"Maybe," Dean shrugged. "Always wanted to be a fireman when I was a kid, you know."
"Feel like you're helpin' people?" the fire fighter nodded. "I'm David." He extended his hand out.
"Dean," he answered, shaking the offering. "I always wanted to do good, I guess, save people, be like a hero I guess."
"Fire fighters can definitely get quite a hero complex," David chuckled. "We have an explorers program for teenagers. It can help get your foot in the door if you decide to pursue it. It looks good on college apps too." David nodded toward the pamphlets he had in his hand.
"Yeah, probably ain't got the grades for college," Dean shrugged. "Just trying to make the teachers happy you know? They think I'm this trouble maker. I get blamed for pretty much everything that goes wrong in this school. It's like a big game of blame the mysterious new kid."
"The explorer program can help with your reputation," David smirked. "Take you from being that kid that teachers see as a problem to someone to look up to."
"Yeah, okay, man," Dean chuckled. "You don't gotta sell it so hard."
"I'm serious," David answered. "You know Mr. Sherman? Shop teacher, kind of a giant dick?"
"Yeah," Dean nodded.
"Back in the day, when I went here," David explained. "Sherman had me written up for something almost every day; talking back, being a disturbance to the rest of the class, looking at him funny, whatever he could think of. Told me I'd never amount to anything. Then I came to this stupid career day thing, stood at this table and talked to the guy that's now my Captain became an explorer. Then I took the fire academy courses when I graduated. Showed all those assholes that didn't think I could amount to something. You don't gotta be what they say you are. They don't define you."
"Really?" Dean picked up the explorers program pamphlet and started to read. "I got this little brother, looks up to me and stuff. Thinks I'm this great thing. I just want to show him that I'm really worth looking up to I guess, before he realizes I can't walk on water. You really think I can do this?"
"Talk to Mr. Sherman, ask him about David Lowell," David smiled. "I was you, Dean. Just a kid that everyone thought was a punk that would never go anywhere. If you got the drive, kid, you can do anything."
"Thanks," Dean nodded. "I'll look into this."
"I hope to see ya at the station sometime," David smiled, extending his hand again.
"Yeah," Dean nodded shaking his hand again. "I try."
"Hey, Dad," Dean said as he straightened his tie in the mirror getting ready for work.
"What kiddo," John answered not looking up from his journal.
"I was thinking," Dean said carefully. "We had this assembly at school, career day thing, and I got talkin' to the dude, a fire fighter. He said they got this explorer program for teenagers and stuff that wanna be fire fighters. And while I was waiting for Sammy to get out I looked it up on the computer, I guess a lot of towns have those kinds of programs."
"You gotta point?" John replied looking up.
"I was thinkin' that maybe I wanted to do it," Dean said. "You know, maybe I could join one of those programs in the next town we land in. I mean, like, I've always wanted to be a fire fighter. Save people be a real hero."
"I thought you wanted to be a hunter?" John asked.
"I do," Dean nodded. "I think I can be both, you know."
"You can't be both," John replied. "You grew up in the life, Dean. You know you don't gotta home base. You'll move around too much to do that kind of thing."
"Maybe I can be like Uncle Bobby," Dean said. "Have a house and whatever, live in one town but still work cases."
"Bobby's a special case," John said. "How many other hunters got a second job?"
"Pastor Jim," Dean answered.
"Another special case," John said quickly. "There ain't many guys that can do the job and have a home. Now, honestly, there's nothing I'd like to see more than you and your brother in a nice stable place, but you can't have both. Either you wanna be a hunter or you wanna do something else."
"I've wanted to be fireman my whole life," Dean said. "I mean, I still got that fire truck you bought me for my first birthday after Mom died. It's in my duffle bag. I wanna do that. I wanna be able to save people, make sure no one has to grow up like we did."
"What do you think I'm doing?" John asked. "Exactly what you just said. I started doing this to find the thing that killed your mom. She didn't die of smoke inhalation or burn up, a monster got her. She didn't get up on that ceiling herself. Something put her there, and no fire fighter could have saved her, but a hunter... a hunter could have, Dean."
"Can you just think about it?" Dean sighed. "It could be cool. Maybe we'll get what killed her before I finish school and we can get a house and whatever. I think I wanna do this Dad. I think it would be good for Sammy to see me doing something with my life. I don't want him to think I'm a loser when he grows up."
"He's not gonna think you're a loser," John sighed. "I'll think about it. Find out how much something like that costs and I'll think about it. Now get to work before you're late."
"Thank, sir," Dean nodded, before turning and heading out the hotel room door.
AN: I'm sorry about the hunting portion of this chapter. I'm better at writing the human element than the monster element. I know it could be a lot better, but I need to read more stories that have hunting descriptions to really get a feel for it. I hope what I have gets the point across.