Title: Tainted
Chapter 3 – Gluttony
Waking up was a torturously slow process.
His mind was muddled with sleep as he came back to his senses, scrunching his nose and wrestling with the ratty blanket of the motel bed.
Cracking one of his eyes open, Sam squinted against the bright light of the flickering TV screen and found Dean slumped over the coffee table, his head pillowed on one of his arms, while his other one dangled limply from his shoulders, fingers brushing lightly against the carpeted floor.
Sam rubbed a hand over his jaw and shot a quick glance at his watch before straightening up in bed.
It was just after 6 in the morning, which meant he had probably caught a good 4-5 hours of sleep.
He must have nodded off during research; the horrifying events of the past day finally having drained every ounce of energy he had left and letting him sink into a deep state of oblivion.
Absent-mindedly, Sam took notice of the fact that he had been covered up with a blanket at some point during the night and that his shoes had been pulled of his sock-clad feet.
Smiling softly, Sam shot his sleeping brother a fond look before getting up from bed and strolling over to the motel kitchenette.
Dean was a notorious light sleeper, something that often came as a side-effect to their job and the fact that he hadn't woken up by the sound of Sam's approaching footsteps was proof enough of his current level of exhaustion.
"Hey," Sam spoke softly, not wanting to startle him as he touched Dean's shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. Dean's reaction was instantaneous.
His eyes flew wide open and he shot up in his seat, fingers immediately fumbling for a weapon in an instinctive gut-reaction to smite any potential danger before it could harm him.
"Dean, woah, it's me. It's just me, okay?" Dean blinked until recognition finally cleared the veil of confusion from his verdant eyes. "Sammy? You alright?"
"Yeah… I'm fine, Dean. Why don't you go lie down in bed for another hour or so while I take a shower and get us some coffee?"
Dean's lips twitched at the prospect of coffee and Sam smiled a little, knowing the extent of his brother's caffeine addiction only all too well.
Sometimes the promise of breakfast was the only thing that could get Dean to get up in the morning.
Not this time, however. Because this wasn't just their every-day run-of-the-mill kind of ghost hunt or monster chase and they both knew it.
Sam should have known better than to assume that his brother would willingly waste his time with sleep when Sam had already gotten hurt in the process of their investigation and was likely to suffer again if they didn't get to the bottom of this case soon.
"Naw, I'm up, I'm awake…" Dean yawned tiredly, straightening up in his seat and rubbing his neck with a wince of pain. Sam was sure it must be stiff after having spent hours in this uncomfortable position.
As if to further prove his point, Dean got up from the chair, swaying lightly on his feet from exhaustion and dizziness. Had he even eaten anything the night before?
Knowing Dean, he had probably spent a large part of the night awake, watching over Sam in case the invisible force decided to strike again and forgoing his own needs to ensure Sam's safety.
"Dean… " Sam protested, rolling his eyes at his brother's stubbornness. "You're dead on your feet. Get some sleep, okay?"
"But the case–"
"The case can wait another hour or two. It's only six in the morning." Sam sighed, giving his brother a gentle shove towards the still perfectly untouched bed and chuckling softly when Dean practically face planted into the mattress, grumbling something incomprehensible while snuggling deeper into his pillow.
Sam fondly shook his head, before grabbing a set of fresh clothes as well as his shaving kit and shampoo from his duffel.
Then, halfway across the room he suddenly turned around; taking off the discarded blanket from his bed and spreading the sleep-warm fabric over Dean's curled up body.
Who said he couldn't take care of his big bro for a change?
"What can I get you honey?" the overly enthusiastic waitress at the diner asked around the chewing gum in her mouth.
Sam forced his gaze away from her glossy pink lipstick and met her expectant gaze over the counter.
"Two coffees, please. One black and can you make the other one a caramel cappuccino?"
"Sure thing, sugar pants," she turned away with a wink. "Anything to eat for you as well?"
Sam glanced down at the variety of sweet bakeries they had displayed in the showcase to his left and bit his lower lip in contemplation, eyes flying over the labeled descriptions.
"Uhhm… yeah, actually. Do you have pie?"
Her fake eyebrows flew up to her greying hairline. "Is this a trick question? Sweetie, this place is called Pie Paradise, what do you think?"
"Oh… right, sorry. I didn't realize… can you give me a slice of apple then? To go, please."
The waitress smacked her lips, scribbling his order onto a notepad and scurried off towards the coffee machine.
Sam sighed and had a look around the diner, noticing how crowded it was for a regular Thursday morning.
"You got some kind of special offer today?" Sam asked when the waitress came back, balancing two Styrofoam coffee cups and a plastic box with Dean's pie in her hands.
"Not that I know of, sweetie. Why are you asking?"
Sam frowned, taking another look around the buzzing diner, glancing at the various occupied tables with people stuffing their faces and gulping down coffee like their lives depended on it.
His mind immediately drew the connection to the news report they had seen the night before.
Gluttony. That's what had been carved into the crazy cop's forehead.
And now all of these people were jugging down breakfast in a no-name town on the outskirts of Kansas. That just couldn't be a coincidence…
Sam put a lid on the coffee cups, feigning innocence as he shrugged at the waitress. "Doesn't it seem a bit…busy to you? I mean more so than you'd expect on a regular work day?"
The waitress opened her mouth in response, but before she got the chance to answer, some guy behind Sam started ranting.
"You think you can speed it up a little, beanstalk? You're not the only one standing in that line, so hurry up and get a move on!"
Sam turned around to look into the angry eyes of a forty-something year old man with sparse hair in a FedEx uniform.
He was clearly on his way to work and- judging from the dark rings beneath his eyes, Sam figured the guy needed the coffee even more than he did.
"Sorry. Didn't realize I was holding up the line. I'll be done in a second."
After everything that had happened the night before, Sam wasn't really sure if he wanted to start another fight with anybody as long as they were still working the case.
And he had kind of taken his time with their coffee…
Hurriedly slamming a couple of bills on the counter and saying his thanks to the waitress, Sam stepped aside and headed for the exit, only to be stopped again the next second, when a young woman to his left jumped up from her seat, fingers covering her mouth and face sickly pale as she stumbled over her own feet, trying to get out of her booth.
Sam rushed forward and caught her before she could fall. "Hey, woah- take it easy. You gonna be sick?"
The woman's eyes widened in panic as she looked up at Sam and frantically nodded her head. Shit.
Thinking quickly, Sam grabbed a decorative vase from the adjacent table and tossed the flowers to the ground, figuring it would have to do for now.
The young woman held onto the empty vase with sweaty fingers and started heaving the second Sam had pushed it into her hands.
Scrunching his nose in disgust, Sam averted his gaze and somewhat awkwardly patted the girl on the back. "Okay, that's good. Just let it all out… You'll feel better in a second."
He wasn't particularly good at comforting- that was usually Dean's specialty, especially when it came to children or teens…
But Sam could sympathize with the awkwardness of the girl's current situation and he wasn't going to let her suffer alone.
Throwing a hurried glance into the diner, Sam's eyes suddenly widened upon realizing that while he himself was sickened by the smell and sound of somebody throwing up right next to him, the other patrons didn't seem fazed by it in the least.
Just the opposite was true, people kept stuffing their mouths, never once looking up from the plate in front of them as they munched happily away on their pancakes and bacon and cheese rolls, while this young girl proceeded to upchuck her own meal right next to them.
Grimacing, Sam locked his jaw and shook his head. Oh there was definitely some kind of connection to their case.
When the girl's heaving finally came to an end, Sam gently guided her over to the bathroom and opened the door for her. "You gonna be alright on your own?"
"Yeah… thanks for– …you know... Jesus this is so embarrassing–"she stammered, not really looking him in the eye.
Sam gave her a reassuring smile and shook his head abidingly. "Hey it's alright. I'm just glad you're feeling better now."
The girl groaned as she stared up at him with widening eyes. "Oh god, you're hot and nice… Excuse me while I curl up in a corner and die of shame… "
Sam laughed self-consciously and shook his head. "I've been through worse. Don't worry okay? It's really no trouble."
He gave her a friendly wave in goodbye before leaving her alone and turning – for the second time now- towards the exit of the diner.
Whatever the hell was going on here, this sure as hell was only just the beginning.
Sam had a feeling that this wasn't the last he had seen of the diner… but for now, he needed to get back to his brother.
Dean was already up when Sam pushed through the door of their motel room, car key clenched between his teeth as he balanced a tray of coffee in one hand and a plastic bag filled with food in the other.
"Took you long enough, Samantha…" Dean complained grouchily, snitching one of the coffee cups from his tray and closing his eyes in absolute bliss after taking his first sip from the strong brew.
"You're welcome." Sam gave back, voice heavy with sarcasm.
He threw the car keys at his brother and Dean snatched them without even looking.
"I brought you pie, but since you're being a jerk, I might as well just eat it myself."
"Pie?" Dean's eyes widened at the mention of his favorite treat. "You bought me pie?"
"Don't look so surprised… I've done it before, you know?" Sam pulled the plastic box from the bag and held it out towards Dean. "Apple. I got some rolls and other stuff in here as well, figured we'd haul up in the room for a bit longer until things calmed down out there."
Sam couldn't be sure his brother had heard him over the sound of his own munching as he dug into the pie.
A low sound of satisfaction gurgled up from his brother's throat as he licked some apple sauce from the corner of his lips.
"Dude, seriously. Go get a separate room with that thing, you're making me uncomfortable…" he shook his head with a roll of his eyes and slipped out of his jacket.
"You found anything useful while I was gone?"
"Ac'tly yh' I d'd–" Dean muttered unintelligibly from around a fork full of pie. Sam shot him an annoyed look.
"I swear it's like living with a four-year-old sometimes… Wanna run that one by me again, Dean?"
Ignoring his little brother's bitching, Dean grabbed a stack of papers from his bed and handed it over without letting go of the precious apple pie.
"I said, 'actually, yeah I did'," he repeated once he had swallowed down, and pointed towards a complicated pencil sketch at the corner of a dog-eared paper.
Sam frowned as he took in the intricate drawing with all of its details.
It was an ancient heptagram, looking similar to the inverted pentagram used for devils traps and black magic, with the only difference of it having seven corners instead of five. Drawn into each of the corners was a small symbol, and in the center of it was a Libra sign with an eye in the middle.
Feeling his guts churn in discomfort, Sam reverently retraced the drawing, feeling each pencil line against his sensitive finger tips. "Where did you take this from?"
"I went through our contacts last night, calling in a few favors. You remember that librarian Dad used to work with in Colorado?"
Sam eyebrows scrunched together in deep thought. "You mean Deborah? The publicist he used to have a thing for?"
Dean grimaced at the reminder.
It had been quite a while since they had last heard of the woman, but Sam still vividly remembered her wavy blond hair and her friendly smile.
She had been a widowed hunter, much like John himself and maybe that was the reason why they had hit it off from the beginning.
Sam had been too young to understand the awkward tension between his father and the strange woman at first but as he grew older he came to realize that there was definitely more going on between the two of them than just being hunting buddies and helping each other out occasionally.
And while it was only normal for their father to hook up with other women after the death of their mother, the thought of him doing so was still disconcerting, even now that he and Dean were both grown-ups.
Especially for Dean, their father's random flings had been a sore topic that was never to be addressed by any of them, so to have him suddenly call one of the women John had hooked up with was more than surprising to Sam.
Dean had always felt as if John was somehow betraying the memory of their mother by dating other women and that inert hostility was reinforced in Deborah's case by the fact that her appearance showed so many similarities to what Mary had looked like before she died.
Even Sam, who was generally less sensitive on the topic of their Mom, had immediately noticed the resemblance between the two women and felt a little weary of Deborah, fearing his father might look for some kind of a surrogate wife.
Of course, that had never been John's intention.
They never actually asked their dad what had happened to Deborah when the two of them stopped seeing each other, but thinking back on it now, Sam suspected he hadn't given his father enough credit in terms of the deep and unabiding love he had held for their mother.
There had never been another woman in their dad's life after Mary.
Just like there had never really been another woman for Sam after Jessica.
However, all of that had been a long, long time ago and to be honest- Sam hadn't even given Deborah another thought in the past 15 years with everything else that had been going on in their lives.
"Yeah, I remember her. Didn't even think we still had her number…"
"Well, we didn't," Dean threw in, licking his fingers and wiping his lips on a napkin. "I found her name listed in an online archive and figured I'd give her a call. Turns out she had a whole collection of books on the seven deadly sins. She sent me a few scans with interpretations and told me to send you her regards."
"Did she ask about–" Sam started, swallowing past the sudden lump in his throat.
As per usual, Dean only needed to take one look at him to know what he meant to say.
"Yeah," Dean sniffed, massaging the base of his nose as if to prevent a headache from spreading. "First thing she wanted to know. She seemed pretty distraught over the news…" he snorted humorlessly. "One more person to believe John Winchester was invincible."
Sam contemplated that for a second, unsure how to feel about the whole topic of Deborah and his dad, before clearing his throat and redirecting their conversation towards something less directly associated to their past.
"So, this figure…" he started, gesturing vaguely towards the sketch in his hands.
Dean stepped up beside him, shoulder and hips brushing his own. "Yeah, let me show you. So according to Deborah this thing represents the balance of good and evil in our world, therefore the scale in the middle."
Sam nodded, having figured as much.
"The corners signify the seven sins- each having its own symbol and here in the outer circle-" Dean pointed towards the other side of the heptagram.
"This is a depiction of the seven virtues- the counterpart to each one of the sins…"
Sam pursed his lips, eyebrows shooting up in surprise. "Alright, fine… so how is any of this helpful to us?"
Dean flashed him his trade-mark grin, before continuing with his explanation.
"Well apparently these symbols are used for all kinds of spells and incantations and now get this- they have been found on victim's bodies before, carved into their flesh. But the police pegged it as the work of some religiously fanatic serial killer and investigations have been stopped soon after."
"When did that happen?" Sam wanted to know, meeting his brother's intent gaze. "Was it here in Kansas?"
Dean shook his head. "No, it happened in Missouri about 30 years ago… but Deborah sent me some old articles on the case and the connection is unmistakable. So whatever killed these people back then… is likely to have returned and is probably responsible for this whole mess in Wichita."
Sam took a deep breath, stroking a tugging a loose hair strand behind his ear."Well that's good, right? If we can get a closer look at the case files, it sure would be helpful."
"Yeah…" Dean agreed. "And I thought about checking out the morgue, tonight. Getting a closer look at the dead cops and at that first victim-"
"Annie Cooper," Sam helpfully supplied. "So should we split up then? You wanna go check out the morgue while I go looking for that file?"
Dean grimaced at the suggestion and Sam sighed in annoyance, immediately knowing where his brother's hesitancy to separate was coming from.
"Look, I'm fine, alright? I will survive a couple of hours on my own."
"You don't know that, Sammy," Dean gave back, features twisting into a mask of stony reluctance."You already got attacked one time, who says it's not going to happen again? Besides, when has it ever worked well for us to split up on a job? Haven't you seen any teenager horror movie, ever? The moment they decide to go their separate ways, they are basically destined to get chopped into little pieces or something…"
Sam rolled his eyes. "Sorry to disappoint, but this isn't a teenage horror movie, Dean. And I'm a thirty-something year old hunter with tons of experience so give me some fucking credit, alright?"
And of course, because Dean was Dean, he had to crack a fucking joke in the middle of a serious aspect of their discussion.
"Thirty-something, huh?" the older Winchester smirked, one eyebrow cocked as he teased his younger brother about his age. "Don't worry, grandpa, I won't tell anybody your real age, if you're that embarrassed about it."
Despite himself, Sam found himself fighting a small smile. "Shut up. You're four years older than me."
"Yeah, but I'm young at heart," Dean winked at him before strolling off towards the bathroom. Sam watched after him for a second, before reverting his gaze to the sketch in his hand.
They still hadn't talked about what happened at the diner, Sam suddenly realized.
With a heavy sigh, he dropped back onto the comforter of his lumpy bed and plopped back against his pillow, allowing his eyes to fall closed for a second.
He had started to feel a little queasy ever since he returned from that diner.
Over the past half an hour or so the feeling had intensified. "You alright?" Dean asked when he exited the bathroom. "You look a little pale…"
Damn' his brother for being so perceptive. "Yeah, no. I'm fine… just feeling a little dizzy."
Sam played it down, not wanting to spur his brother's worry any further by telling him how crappy he actually felt at the moment.
"You want some water?" Dean gently asked and didn't wait for an answer before handing Sam an unopened bottle of mineral water.
Not trusting anything to stay down, given how sick Sam suddenly felt, the younger Winchester swallowed drily and shook his head in denial. "I- I'm sure it will blow over, just give me a moment…"
Instantly suspicious, Dean inched closer and went into a crouch before Sam's sprawled out body.
Without warning, he reached out to rest a warm palm against his little brother's forehead, testing the temperature.
When everything seemed to be normal, Dean's examining hand moved to the nape of Sam's neck and gently squeezed it in reassurance. "Hey, I'm just gonna get you a wet cloth from the bathroom real quick, okay?"
Sam nodded, unable to form words out of fear he would start throwing up.
Where the hell had the sudden burst of sickness come from? Two minutes ago, Sam had still been feeling perfectly fine.
Unwittingly, the memory from the girl in the diner resurfaced from the corner of his mind.
Oh no...
"Dean–" Sam croaked out and then moaned when his stomach muscles contracted violently. He gasped out a shocked breath and squeezed his eyes shut against the unexpected pain, tears pooling behind his lids. "Fuck-gah–"
"Hey, hey- what's happening?" Dean's hands were on him again a second later, but instead of the usual comfort they brought, Sam only felt burning agony wherever his brother's fingers brushed against his skin. Scrambling away from the touch, he choked on a breath and started dry-heaving.
"Woah! Okay- easy there Sammy- take it easy…" the softly spoken stream of words was nothing but distant background noise to Sam's vicious retching as he relieved himself over the edge of the bed and all over the carpeted motel floor.
Dean never once strayed from his side during the humiliating act, hands drawing comforting circles against the back of Sam's sweat soaked shirt and mumbling senseless words of reassurance.
"Oh-gawd… I- I'm sorry Dean…" Sam spat a glob of spittle to the ground, trying to get rid of the rancid taste in his mouth, eyes averted and cheeks glowing with shame.
He could relate now –more than before- to what the girl went through at that diner.
Because throwing up in front of his brother- the one person that knew him better than anyone in the entire world and had pretty much seen him in every possible condition before- and a room full of complete strangers was not even up for comparison.
"Shut up, Sammy," Dean gently chided, running the cool cloth across his face to wipe away any remaining traces of saliva and vomit, much like a worried mother would do with her child. "You finished?"
Sam nodded shakily, even though his stomach churned at the sight and odor of his own barf.
Jesus, it was all over the place.
"This is so gross…" he muttered miserably, not even aware of having said the words out loud until Dean snorted in response.
"Tell me about it, kiddo. I think you managed to get some into my boots."
"I'm sorry–" Sam apologized meekly, feeling stupidly guilty for something he didn't really have any control over.
"Don't sweat it. Not like I've never cleaned up after you before. Just like old times, right?" Dean dead-panned with a smirk but all Sam could manage was a half-hearted upwards twitch of his lips.
"What's wrong…?" Dean asked, upon noticing Sam's disheartenment. "You feeling sick again- want me to get the trash can?"
"No, it's not that–" Sam was quick to reassure his brother. "Just…"
"Just what?"
"At the diner today… there was this girl… she threw up all over the place."
Dean didn't quite get the point he was trying to make. "So what, you think she gave you the bug or something?"
Sam actually managed a dark chuckle as he stared up at his brother from behind half-lidded eyes.
"No Dean. I think it might have something to do with the case… Gluttony, remember? The whole diner was crammed with people today and they were stuffing their faces as if they were starving. You should have seen it. "
His brother took a deep breath, closing his eyes as he took in the news. "And you're only just telling me this now, why?" Dean asked angrily, throwing his hands in the air in obvious annoyance.
"I'm sorry… we were talking about other stuff and I just kind of… forgot," Sam apologized softly, rubbing a hand against his sore stomach.
Dean ran a hand through his hair, messing up the blond strands, and plopped down heavily in one of the seats at the coffee table, as he tried to clean his shoes with the washcloth he had used on Sam earlier. Then he got up with a sigh, picking his own pillow from his bed and tossed it over the huge mess on the floor, covering up his brother's sickness.
"Alright, you know what? Why don't you stay here for a little while and rest, while I go check out that diner?"
Sam was shaking his head before Dean had even finished his suggestion. "No, out of the question. If you're going, I'm coming with."
"Sam, you just spewed stomach acid all over this place, I think I'm entitled to say that you're in no condition to tag along," Dean reasoned in his no-nonsense voice and Sam locked his jaw in frustration, knowing there was little sense in trying to argue with his big brother.
"What about the teenage horror movies?" he asked in a last attempt to keep his brother from leaving. "Don't expect me to come get you out of trouble, if some degenerated freak with a chainsaw threatens to chop you into pieces…"
Dean snatched his green jacket from the backrest of the chair he'd been sitting on and shot his brother a flashing grin. "Won't happen to me, little bro. The cool kids always survive, remember?"
Sam snorted incredulously.
"You call me if anything happens, alright? And if I say anything, I fucking mean anything, you hear me?"
Sam opened his mouth for a snarky response, but Dean was out of the door before he could hear it.
Flopping back against his pillow, Sam threw an arm over his face and groaned, feeling as if their whole situation was about to escalate even more…
After a second of contemplation, he straightened up in bed, swallowing against the new surge of dizziness as he climbed to his feet and grabbed his boots from where they lay discarded beneath his night stand.
Dean had another thing coming if he seriously thought Sam was just going to lie in bed and wait for his big brother to get himself into trouble.
They had a case to work. And they were gonna work it together.
TBC…
Hey guys! Thanks for reading! :) So I hope you're all still interested in the story and that you're up for more. I know not a lot happened in this chapter, but I promise more action in the next update, it's gonna revolve around gluttony and how the sin affects people. Sorry also for all the sickness^^ hope you weren't eating anything while reading this hahaha... xD Please don't forget to drop me a note if you liked the update! Reviews make my dayy and motivate me to update faster! :D (ps I honestly don't know the boys' age at this point. Do hell-years count?^^ jk)