"Shouldn't Bobby be back by now?" Sam asked only mildly curious, he still felt Dean's death glare on him, but then he realized that Bobby really should have been back by now. It had been hours.
When Sam looked up, Dean already had his phone at his ear.
"You think Gordon did something to Bobby?" Sam asked in a hushed voice while one ring after the other went by unanswered.
"Dunno." Dean said through gritted teeth and tightened his grip on the phone. Sam didn't dare to breathe.
By now Sam was sure it would go to voice-mail but then Dean's face lit up and he sounded relieved when he said: "Bobby."
Sam couldn't here what the person on the other end said but the way Dean's face went back to that stone-cold expression it was not Bobby.
"Gordon." Dean said, confirming Sam's worries. Gordon had Bobby. Or worse, Bobby could be dead by now. Sam didn't want to think about that possibility.
If his vision really was about to come true ... there had been no Bobby in the picture.
Sam closed his eyes, he felt sick. All because he hadn't recognized the man who was out to kill him when he'd run into him. Literally. If he'd remembered him, if he'd just told Dean.
"If this is about the coffee." Dean said almost cheerfully but his face betrayed him. "Sam says he's sorry. Just send us the bill for the dry cleaning and we'll take care of it."
Sam choked back a bitter laugh but had to hold on to the desk because he didn't trust his legs right now. This couldn't be happening.
"You know snagging Bobby is an unfair move." Dean became more serious. "You want us, come for us. You know where to find us."
He listened again. The voice on the other end was still too low for Sam to understand the words but Gordon was angry, that much he could tell.
"I want to talk to him." Dean demanded. There was no answer for a moment and Sam feared that Bobby was dead, that Gordon had killed him, but then Dean said: "Hey, Bobby. You okay?" and Sam allowed himself to hope.
Then it was Gordon talking again, his voice an angry mumble through the phone and Dean listened intensely.
"I know where that is." Dean nodded. "We'll be there."
With that he ended the call.
"Dammit!" He yelled and for a second Sam was sure he would throw the phone against the wall. In the end he only kicked a chair, sending it half-way across there room where it landed on its side.
"Gordon has Bobby?" Sam asked. It was a stupid question, he knew that, but he needed Dean to say it out loud to make it real.
"He wants you in exchange for Bobby." Dean confirmed. He shook his head. "As if I would just hand you over like this."
Sam didn't remember specifics but he knew without a doubt that if it came down to it Dean would choose him over Bobby. Dean would try to save them both but Sam was the one he would sacrifice everything, everybody, for.
"I'm sorry." He said meekly.
"For what?" Dean asked. "You haven't done anything, this is Gordon's fault and his alone."
"If I'd recognized him the other day ..." Sam spread his hands in a helpless manner. "We would have known that he was after us." After me, was the correct term but he couldn't bring those words over his lips.
"Thanks to your vision we do know more than he thinks." Dean even managed a smile. "We are prepared. We'll get Bobby out and send Gordon to hell."
Sam nodded to that but had no idea how to accomplish it.
"Dean." He licked his lips nervously and he was pretty sure that Dean would refuse him but he needed to say it nevertheless. "If you can get Bobby out, do it. No matter ..."
"No, Sam!" Dean cupped his face with both hands, forcing Sam to look him in the eye. "You're not handing yourself over to that bastard. You are not."
Sam wanted to assure him that he wouldn't but his vision was still clear in his mind. This wasn't about Bobby, not only. Dean would die. And in the end Sam would die too. He knew it, he'd seen it.
"I won't let Bobby die because of me." He said firmly, meeting Dean's eyes. "And I won't let you die either."
Dean studied his face for a moment longer before he let go of him with a sigh. "Memories or not, you're still you. Self-sacrificing stubborn idiot." The last part was muttered under his breath but still loud enough for Sam to hear.
"Let's go." Dean jerked his head. "We don't have much time."
Only minutes later they were in the car, heading into town.
"I don't like the plan." Sam said for the third time in as many minutes.
"You have a better one?" Dean threw him a side-glance, his hands in a white-knuckled grip on the wheel.
"No." Defeated Sam slumped down in his seat. "I still don't like it."
This was the first time, at least that he knew of, that he was doing something like this. Bobby's life depended on him and he felt more helpless than ever. Maybe he should just let Gordon shoot him, that way he couldn't fuck up and endanger the others farther.
But that's not how it's going to happen, a mean little voice in the back of his mind said. Sam wasn't sure when he'd accepted that his vision would come true but he knew that even if he tried to shoot himself right now, it would still end where he'd seen it. With Dean on the floor in his own blood and Gordon coming out of hiding with his gun aimed at Sam. And then there would be the final shot.
Dean hadn't said much about his other visions but Sam got that even if they had prevented it, it had always been a close call. The scene had always played out almost like the vision predicted. He could only hope that Dean's plan worked, as insane as it was.
"You okay, over there?" Dean asked after a few minutes of silence. "No freaking out?"
"I'm fine." Sam straightened up in his seat, the last thing they needed right now was for him to freak out like some civilian. That would kill them all.
But you are a civilian, that voice piped up again. You have no clue what you're doing here.
That was true, he had to admit it, but he even if he didn't remember firing a gun, his body did. He was counting on that. He could do this.
He took a deep breath.
"Last time he used tripwires." He said out of the blue.
"You remember that?"
"Not really." This half-memories were annoying. Bits and pieces coming out of nowhere with no context or anything, just things he suddenly knew.
"I doubt he's going to use those again but keep an eye out." Dean gave his knee a little squeeze and Sam relaxed a bit. "We'll get Bobby out. We will."
The hand left his knee and went back to its crushing grip on the steering wheel.
Sam tried to share his brother's optimism but he was worried sick. And the weight of the gun in his waistband didn't really help to assure him. Shooting at a car door was one thing, shooting a person was an entirely different one. He wasn't even sure if he would get the chance to fire, in his vision he didn't have a gun in hand.
He closed his eyes and tried to breathe evenly. Images flared in his mind, disconnected and without context. The tripwires, it had been at least two, he knew that. For some reason his shoes came to mind and the face of a young woman. It didn't make sense and it didn't trigger an actual memory so Sam just sat there in his seat and waited for the ride to be over. Then he would have at least something to do and wasn't at mercy of his half-memories anymore.
Dean parked the car out of sight, as if Gordon didn't know they were coming. They checked their gear one last time and then they went over to the construction site.
Sam's heart sped up, this was the place he'd seen in his vision. Not the outside but he knew what they would find inside. Raw beams and plastic drape, the smell of saw dust.
"This is the place." Sam said as if it wasn't obvious. Dean gave him a sharp nod at that and took out his gun. Sam reached for his as well and nearly dropped it. His hands were shaking but he tightened the grip around the handle and returned Dean's nod. He was as ready as he'd ever be. He could only hope that would be enough.
They walked right up to the entrance just like Gordon wanted them to.
Sam stayed one step behind Dean, a little to the side so both of them had a clear line of fire. At this point Sam stopped thinking and let his body take over. He knew how to do this, he knew what a jerk of Dean's head or a slightly raised shoulder meant, he just needed to let himself react and not think too hard about everything. To his surprise he slipped into that role quite easily. Like he'd done it all his life.
"Gordon!" Dean bellowed when they stepped deeper into the building. So far no sign of Gordon or Bobby, Sam noticed. "We're here! Show yourself!"
They stood still without even breathing but there was no answer.
"Gordon?" Dean tried again, moving forward. Sam followed him, with his gun in hand and eyes roaming the area. With all these half-build walls it was hard to check the rooms and the plastic drape made enough noise to overlap footsteps. Gordon could ambush them any second from any direction.
"Great." Dean muttered. "Playing games with us." He moved forward and after making sure that it was safe, he made a turn to the left. The second Dean was out of his sight almost sent Sam into a panic attack so he hurried to follow his brother but stopped dead when he turned around the corner.
This was the room.
Dean would lay there, his eyes darted to the spot on the ground just feet from where Dean was standing now. And Gordon would come from there. Sam jerked his gun up, aiming at the plastic but so far there was nobody behind it.
"Dean." Sam hissed and fought against the urge to drag his brother back. "Here." That was all he needed to say. Dean gave him a nod that he'd understood but made another step farther into the room.
"Gordon!" He yelled again. "I know you're here. Where is Bobby?"
Out of the corner of his eye Sam saw him. Just a blurry shadow through the plastic drape but there was only one other person around here.
"Dean!" Sam yelled and jerked his gun around.
"Sam!" Dean screamed at almost the same time and when he moved, he wasn't going for Gordon. He tackled Sam to the ground just when Gordon fired. Sam went down with Dean on top of him and somehow he'd lost hold of his gun. Cursing to himself he searched around for it, this was such a rookie mistake, while he tried to check on Dean. Then there was a second shot and Dean rolled off of him with a scream. And went silent.
"Dean!" Sam yelled but didn't get a response.
The gun, he needed his gun. Sam pushed himself to his feet, only sparing a glance at Dean. He wasn't moving and there was blood, just like in his vision.
Sam teared his gaze away from him, he needed to find his gun. But just like in his vision he never reached it.
Gordon Walker stepped around the corner, gun steadily aimed at him.
"It's over, Sam."