Jump the Shark Part 1

The Impala was parked next to a lake. Sam was leaning against the hood, brushing his teeth and Angela was brushing her hair. Dean was lying across the front seat, head and shoulders up against the door. Dean twisted around, getting Sam and Angela's attention, and opened the door, which nearly dumped him on the ground.

"Hey." Angela said. "How'd you sleep?"

Dean climbed out of the car. "How do you think? I'm starving. Let's get breakfast."

"Where?" Sam asked. "We're like two hours from anything."

"But I'm hungry now." Dean whined. He came around to the front of the car.

"There's probably still a sandwich in the backseat." Angela replied.

Dean turned around, rubbing a hand over his face, and reached in through the open back window, pulling out a paper bag. He opened the bag and sniffed, then his head back and inhaled.

"It's tuna." He said.

A phone rang inside the car. Dean tossed the bag back into the backseat and put his hands to his jean pockets. Sam spit out toothpaste foam. Dean leaned in through the front window and rummaged in the glove compartment, pulling out the ringing phone. Dean hit his head on the roof as he tried to get out. Dean looked at the phone.

"Isn't that Dad's phone?" Sam asked.

Dean flipped the phone open, pressed a button, and put it to his ear. "Hello?"

A young man, Adam Milligan answered. "Uh, is this John?"

"He can't come to the phone." Dean said. "Can I help you?"

"No, no, no I really, I need to talk to John. This is Adam Milligan. He knows me."

"Well, sorry to be the one to break this to you, pal, but John died more than two years ago." Dean replied.

There was a shocked sound.

"Who is this?" Dean asked.

"I'm his son." Adam replied.

Dean stared.

~/~\~

The Impala parked next to Cousin Oliver's Hilltop Café.

A van went past.

Dean, Sam and Angela got out of the car.

"Dean, look, best I can tell, Adam Milligan is real." Angela said.

Dean unlocked and opened the trunk, then the weapons box. Sam read from a paper in an open folder.

"Um, born September 29th, 1990 to Kate Milligan. No father listed on the birth certificate. He's an Eagle Scout." Sam said.

Dean pulled assorted weapons out of the trunk, including Ruby's knife.

"Graduated from high school with honors and currently goes to the University of Wisconsin, biology major, pre-med." Sam continued.

Dean closed the weapons box.

"Dean? You listening?" Sam asked.

"This is a trap." Dean said.

Dean closed the trunk and headed past Sam and Angela. Sam closed the folder.

~/~\~

Dean, Sam and Angela entered the diner with a bell ringing at the door. There was a man at the counter, a waitress serving a burger and a couple other customers.

Dean, Sam and Angela scanned opposite halves of the diner; Dean saw an empty table in a corner with four chairs.

They sat down, Sam and Dean next to each other and Angela across from them. Sam thumped John's journal on the table.

"Dean, I'm telling you, the kid check's out." Sam said.

"Great, so he's an actual person on planet Earth." Dean replied. "Sucks he's got a demon in him."

Another waitress, Denise, approached the table with menus and glasses of water; she gave them each a glass.

"Hi." She greeted. "Welcome to Cousin Oliver's."

"Thanks." Angela smiled.

"Can I—Denise started.

"We're actually waiting on somebody." Dean interrupted.

Denise, annoyed, slapped down a menu in front of each of them.

"Thank you—Sam started.

Sam picked up his menu long enough to slap it down. Dean took his glass and poured it into the potted plant behind him.

"What are you—Angela started.

Dean put the glass between his knees and pulled out a flask, unscrewing the top.

"Holy water?" Sam asked.

"Yup." Dean nodded.

Under the table, Dean filled the glass with water from the flask.

"One sip of Jesus juice, this evil bitch is gonna be in a world of hurt." Dean said.

Denise walked past; when she was out of sight, Dean put the glass in front of the fourth spot at the table. Dean pulled out a felt wrapped package and undid it.

"And what if he's not possessed?" Angela asked.

"Then he is a shape shifter." Dean replied.

Dean's package contained silver cutlery, which he set at the fourth spot at the table, removing the silverware already there and dropping it on the floor.

"Hence the silver." Angela sighed.

Sam moved the journal on top of the menu.

"Look, either way, this thing is gonna bleed." Dean said. "I mean, using Dad as bait? That's the last mistake of its short, pitiful life."

Sam frowned, watching Dean, who looked over.

"What?" Dean asked.

Sam looked away.

"What?" Dean repeated.

"Dean… listen." Sam said. "There's an entry in Dad's journal." Sam flipped through it. "From January of 1990, saying he's headed to Minnesota to check out a case. That's, roughly, oh, about nine months before the kid was born."

"Coincidence." Dean replied.

"Coincidence. Next two pages of the journal, torn out." Sam said.

Sam indicated the remains of the pages.

"You're not actually buying this, are you?" Dean scoffed.

"Look, man, I don't want to believe it either, I'm just saying it's possible." Sam replied. Sam closed the journal and picked it up, waving it. "I mean, Dad would be gone for weeks at a time, and he wasn't exactly a monk."

Sam put the journal away.

"I mean, a hunter rolls into town, kills a monster, saves the girl… sometimes the girl's grateful." Sam said.

"Well, now I'm thinking about Dad sex. Stop talking." Dean replied.

"Maybe he slipped one past the goalie." Angela shrugged.

"Angie!" Dean exclaimed. "Ew!"

The door chimed. A young man had just come in: this was Adam Milligan. Angela turned around and Sam and Dean looked up. Adam looked around, looking for unfamiliar faces.

"Adam?" Angela called.

Adam looked over. Sam raised a hand. Adam came over.

"You Sam?" he asked, looking at him.

"Yeah. Uh, this is Dean. And this is our friend Angie." Sam replied.

"Hey." Adam said. He set his backpack on the floor and sat next to Angela.

The door chimed again.

"So, um… how did you know my dad?" Adam asked.

"I've just heard of him." Angela shrugged. "Never met him."

"Uh, Dean and I worked with him." Sam said.

Adam's facial expression indicated confusion. "How did he die?"

"On the job." Sam replied.

"He was a mechanic, right?" Adam asked.

"A car fell on him." Dean replied.

Denise came up to the table, much friendlier. "Hey, Adam. How you doing?"

Denise put a glass of water in front of Adam. Dean leaned forward and took it. Sam and Angela frowned.

"Oh, I'll take that. I am very thirsty." Dean said.

Dean took a sip. Denise eyes Dean, displeased.

"The usual, Adam?" she asked.

"Uh, yeah. Thanks, Denise."

Denise left. Adam took the glass of holy water. Dean, Sam and Angela watched carefully as he drank; nothing happened. Adam was not possessed. Adam wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"So, uh, when's the last time you saw John?" Sam asked.

"I don't even know. It's… a couple years."

Under the table, Dean pulled out a gun and aimed it at Adam.

"Why did you decide to call him now?" Angela asked.

"I didn't know who else to call. He's the only family I got."

Sam blinked.

"My mom's missing." Adam continued.

"Really? I'm sorry. Uh, for how long?" Sam asked.

"It's tragic, really." Dean said. "But if you're John's kid, how come we've never heard of you?"

"'Cause John and me didn't really know each other. Not until a few years ago, anyway."

"What do you mean?" Angela asked.

"My mom never talked about him. I knew some stuff."

"What kind of stuff?" Dean asked.

"My mom's a nurse, and Dad came into the ER, pretty torn up." Adam replied. "Hunting accident or something. And I knew his name. John Winchester. That's about it. We're not exactly a nuclear family."

"Yeah, well, who is these days?" Sam asked.

"So, when did you, uh, when did you finally meet him?" Dean asked.

"When I was 12. My mom had one of his old numbers, and—

Dean tightened his grip on the gun.

"—and after I begged her, God, 24/7 she finally called him. God, when John heard he had a son, he raced to town. I mean, he dropped everything. He drove all night."

Denise put a plate in front of Adam. "There you go."

"Thanks."

"Well, that's heartwarming." Dean said.

Adam indicated his food. "You mind?"

"Please, dig in." Dean replied.

Adam took the napkin out from under the silverware without touching the silverware and spread the napkin on his lap. Dean cocked the gun.

"He would swing by once a year or so." Adam said.

He picked up the knife and fork; nothing happened. So Adam wasn't a shape shifter, nor anything else that reacts on contact with silver. Dean glanced away.

"You know, called when he could. But still…" Adam continued.

Adam took a bite. Dean uncocked the gun and put it away.

"He taught me poker and pool and even bought me my first beer when I was 15." Adam said. "And, uh… he showed me how to drive. Dad, he had this beautiful '67 Impala—

"Oh, this is crap. You know what, you're lying." Dean glared.

"No, I'm not." Adam replied.

"Uh, yeah, you are" Dean said.

"I'm sorry, but who the hell are you to call me a liar?" Adam asked.

"We're John Winchester's sons, that's who." Dean indicated himself and Sam. "We are his sons."

Adam stared at Dean, then at Sam, then at Dean.

"I've got brothers?" he asked.

"No, you don't have brothers." Dean replied. "Look, man, I don't know if you're a hunter or what kind of game you're playing here."

"I have never been hunting in my life." Adam said.

"Whatever. I'm out of here." Dean replied. "Come on, Sam, Angie."

Dean got up and went to leave.

"I can prove it." Adam said.

~/~\~

Dean held a framed picture of Adam and John; John was wearing a baseball cap. Sam, Dean and Angela examined the picture.

"He took you to a baseball game?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, when I turned 14." Adam replied. "Dad was around for a few of my birthdays."

Sam held up John's journal. "September 29th, 2004. One word. 'Minnesota.'" Sam said.

"He took you to a freakin' baseball game?" Dean repeated.

"Yeah. Why? What'd Dad do with you on your birthday?"

Adam took the picture back.

"Oh…" Dean frowned.

Adam looked away.

"Adam, you said you called John because your mom was missing." Angela said.

"Yeah." Adam nodded.

"How long has she been gone?" Sam asked.

"Three days."

"Who was the last person to see her?" Dean asked.

"Mr. Abbinanti, our neighbor. He saw her come home Tuesday night, but she never showed up to work on Wednesday."

Dean saw another picture, this one of John hugging Kate. Kate resembled Mary.

"Did you call the police?" Angela asked.

"Mom's supervisor at the hospital did. And then I drove down here as fast as I could." Adam paused. "I should have been here."

"What'd the, uh, what'd the cops say?" Dean asked.

"That they, uh, they searched the house. They didn't find anything." Adam paused. "She wouldn't leave without telling anybody. It's like she just dropped off the face of the earth, you know?"

~/~\~

Dean shifted Kate's dresser. Seeing nothing behind it, he shifted it back. There were more pictures on the dresser: one of Kate, John and a younger Adam, and one of Kate and a very small Adam. Dean focused on the one with John.

"The, uh, nightstand was knocked over." Dean said. "Was there anything else?"

"Oh, not really. The sheriff said there's no sign of a break-in."

Dean looked around.

"What, you think the cops missed something?"

"Maybe." Dean nodded. "Yeah. They don't have my eyes."

"You're a mechanic."

"Yeah. That's right." Dean nodded.

Adam hesitated. "Dean, what else can you tell me about Dad?"

"You knew him." Dean replied.

"Not as well as you."

"Trust me, kid, you don't want to know."

Sam and Angela appeared at the door, holding up handfuls of papers.

"Give us a minute." Dean left.

~/~\~

Dean, Sam and Angela stopped walking.

"You talk to the cops?" Dean asked.

"Yeah. Like Adam said, no leads on his mom." Angela replied.

"Shocker there."

"But we did find this." Sam replied.

Sam went through papers till he found a copy of the Windom Gazette dated January 9th, 1990. The headline was 'Missing Bodies Found' and the subtitle 'Seventeen bodies recovered from abandoned shed'.

"Um… here. In 1990, there were 17 grave robberies in Windom." Sam said.

"You think that's why Dad came through here?" Dean asked.

"I'd day so. Check it out." Angela said.

She pointed at the photo accompanying the article. Dean took a closer look. John was in the background of the photo. Dean nodded.

"All right, so he was hunting something." Dean said. "What?"

"No idea." Sam replied. "Those were the pages he threw out of the journal. But last month, the corpse snatching started up again. Three bodies from the local cemetery."

"So whatever he was after, he didn't kill it. It's back." Dean said.

"And, what, it's stepped up its game to fresh meat?" Angela asked. "I mean, Kate's missing, and, uh—Angela went to the next paper. This one was a copy of a phone of a man in large black glasses, Joe Barton. "So is a local bartender, a guy named Joe Barton."

Dean took the photo.

~/~\~

Adam was sitting on Kate's bed. Dean came to the door and held up the photo.

"Hey, does your mom know Joe Barton?" Dean asked.

"Uh, I don't think so. Why?"

Dean looked back at Sam and Angela, then at Adam. There was a long pause. Dean noticed something by Adam's feet: scratched on the floor. Dean came over for a closer look.

"What is it?" Adam asked.

"Watch out." Dean said. Dean flipped up the edge of the comforter and looked under the bed, then got up. "Give me a hand with the mattress."

Dean tossed the pillows aside and with Adam's help moved the mattress off the bedframe. Under the bed was a vent large enough to fit someone through. Sam and Angela looked at it. Dean looked at Sam. They raised their fists for rock-paper-scissor, Angela just rolled her eyes. Sam picked rock, Dean scissors. Sam smirked and Dean waved his arms, frustrated, then put his hands on his hips.

"Every time." Dean muttered.

~/~\~

There was a thump, the sound of the vent cover coming off, and light from a flashlight filled the duct. There were red stains along the duct. Dean shined the light around, then slid inside. There was a T-junction at the end of the duct he was in.

"Why didn't I pick paper?" he groaned.

Dean crawled to the T-junction. There more red stains: blood. Dean crawled a bit further; to one side was another vent cover, undisturbed. Dean had a pistol in his other hand, which he pointed around the corner before he leaned around himself. There was a large amount of blood and bits of flesh or bone in the duct.

~/~\~

Dean was cleaning a shotgun. There was a knock at the door. Dean turned. Angela opened the door. Adam entered.

"Who the hell are you?" Adam asked.

"Adam, hey." Angela said.

Angela closed the door behind Adam. Dean flipped a cloth over the shotgun.

"Take it easy." Sam walked over.

"No, don't tell me to take it easy, okay?" Adam replied. "My house is a crime scene, my mom's probably dead, and you three, well, you tell me to call the cops, but you got to bail before the show? So, who are you really?"

There was silence.

"Cops didn't know where to look for my mom, Dean, but you did. And I heard you talking earlier, something about grave robberies."

Adam spotted the end of the shotgun poking out from under the cloth.

"You're not mechanics. I just want to know what's going on."

There was more silence.

"Please." Adam urged.

"We're hunters." Sam said.

"Sammy!" Dean exclaimed.

"He deserves to know, Dean." Sam defended.

"What do you mean, 'hunters'?" Adam asked.

Dean shook his head and Angela sighed.

~/~\~

"Okay, so basically, you're saying that every movie monster, every nightmare that I've ever had, that's all real?" Adam asked.

"Godzilla's just a movie." Dean replied.

"We hunt them. So did Dad." Sam replied.

Adam nodded. "Okay."

"'Okay'?" Dean asked. "That's it?"

"What am I supposed to say?"

"That we're liars, that we're crazy." Dean replied. "Nobody just says 'okay.'"

"Well, you're my brothers. And Angela is your friend." Adam shrugged. "You're telling me the truth, right?"

"Yeah." Angela nodded.

"Then I believe you. Now, what took my mom?"

"We're not sure." Sam replied. "Something's in town stealing bodies, living and dead, but we don't know what."

"There's a long list of freaks that fit the bill." Dean said.

"You think maybe she might still be alive?" Adam asked.

Dean looked down. Adam turned to Sam and Angela, who also looked down. Adam nodded, realizing, and looked down.

"Oh. How can I help?"

"You can't." Dean replied.

"That thing killed my mom. If you're hunting it, I want in."

"No." Dean replied.

"Dean, look, maybe—Sam started.

"Maybe what?" Dean asked.

"He lost his mother." Sam replied. "Maybe you, Angie and I can understand what that feels like."

"Why do you think Dad never told us about this kid, Sam? Huh?" Dean asked. "Why do you think he ripped out the pages?"

"Because—Sam started.

"Because he was protecting him!" Dean snapped.

"Dad's dead, Dean."

"That doesn't matter!" Dean yelled. "He didn't want Adam to have our lives, okay? And we are gonna respect his wishes."

"Do I get a say in this?" Adam asked.

"No!" Dean yelled.

"No." Sam agreed.

Angela pinched the bridge of her nose.

Dean headed for the door. "Babysit the kid."

"Where are you going?" Angela asked.

Dean grabbed his jacket. "I'm going out!"

Dean left. Sam and Angela sighed.

"Is he always like that?" Adam asked.

Sam laughed. "Welcome to the family."

Adam looked down.

"Here." Sam pulled out his gun and ejected the clip. "I'm gonna teach you a few things."

"Sam—Angela started.

"Uh, Dean said—

"I know what Dean said." Sam replied. He held the unloaded gun out to Adam. "And I know what it's like to want revenge."

~/~\~

The cemetery director escorted Dean, who was in FBI suit and tie.

"This tomb was built in 1926. Four generation of the Millsap family were interred here."

"They don't build 'em like this anymore." Dean replied.

"Tell me, Agent Nugent, have you thought about where you might like to spend eternity?"

Dean hesitated. "All the damn time." He looked around the tomb. "So, three bodies went missing. Any idea who did it?"

"Hooligans. Sick, deranged hooligans."

Dean noticed something spilled on the side of the tomb. He touched it, smelled it, and recoiled.

"This isn't blood. What is this?" Dean asked.

"No, it's embalming fluid. Whoever committed this crime didn't just take the corpses. They opened them up."

Dean looked up.

~/~\~

Dean took a seat at the empty bar and unfolded the papers he was carrying. The bartender spotted him and filled a glass from the tap.

"First beer's on the house for cops. Feds too."

"Am I that obvious?" Dean asked.

"I know all the local badges." She set the glass in front of Dean. "And you've got that… Law & Order vibe."

The bartender picked up a cloth and started drying another glass.

"So, what's the FBI doing in Windom?"

"Looking into the disappearance of Joe Barton." Dean slid the photo of Joe across the bar. The bartender looked at it, stricken. "I assume you knew him?"

"A little. I'm his wife. Lisa."

"Well, Lisa, what can you tell me about his disappearance?"

"Same thing I told the sheriff. He stayed late Friday before last to do inventory. Never came home.

Dean took the glass of beer. "And the police?"

"Nothing. Truth is, I was scared they stopped looking. But now you're here."

Dean looked at the photos behind the bar. One was of Joe in a police uniform.

"Joe was a cop?" Dean asked.

"Deputy. For a little while. That was a looong time ago."

"He didn't happen to work the, uh, the grave robbery case, back in '90?" Dean asked.

"He did. Yeah. Joe was the one who found those bodies. He got an award for that."

"That was an interesting case." Dean replied. "He ever tell you how he did it?" Dean scanned the newspaper photo for John.

"Most of the time, he said good, solid police work. But after a few beers, he'd admit he had a little help."

"From who?"

"A 'specialist'. That's all he'd say."

"Cops ever find the guy that stole the bodies?" Dean took a drink.

"No. But when I asked Joe about it, he's say not to worry, that 'we took care of what done it.'"

~/~\~

Adam was practicing disassembling a gun while Sam and Angela cleaned shotguns.

"Sam… how did Dad really die?"

"Demon."

"You hunted it down? Got revenge?"

"Dean killed it." Angela replied.

"So it's over for you guys." Adam said.

"It's never over." Sam looked at Adam.

The lights went out. Something rattled.

"What the—Adam started.

"Shh." Sam said.

The three stood.

"Stay here. Angie, stay with him."

Sam loaded the shotgun, approaching the door. He opened the door and looked around, aiming the shotgun in whichever direction he looked; nothing. There was a noise behind Sam; he turned and aimed it in his general direction. Again. There was a vent near the ceiling; Sam aimed at that.

"It's in the vents. Go!" Sam yelled.

Sam fired at the vent, the hustled Adam and Angela out of the room, following right behind.

~/~\~

They hurried down the stairs.

"Where's your car?" Angela asked.

"Over here."

"All right, keys." She said.

"Here."

Adam headed for the passenger side of the truck, Angela for the driver's side and Sam headed for the back. While Angela fumbled with the keys, something grabbed her ankle, yanking her to the ground and under the truck. She grabbed the truck to resist.

"Angela!" Adam yelled.

"Angie!" Sam exclaimed.

The Impala pulled up.

"Dean, help!" Adam yelled.

Adam grabbed one of Angela's arm and Dean and Sam the other and they pulled her free. Dean got out of the car, grabbed the dropped shotgun and sired. Dean looked at Angela and Sam. Sam looked at Adam, Adam flopped onto the ground.

A/N: Posting a bit early cause I'm super tired. Hope you guys enjoy it!

Don't forget to review, review, review! Love y'all.

~Emily