Chapter Twenty-Eight: Crossroad Blues
Sam was sitting across from him in the booth, looking at something on his laptop. Alec was sitting next to him, picking at his food. It wasn't like his little brother to pick at his food. Alec would eat anything he put in front of him. But he also knew that Alec was disappointed that Jo was still refusing to talk to him. If he hadn't already devoured one basket of fries, then he'd be worried. For now, he would just keep an eye on him to make sure he was ok. He knew when to push and when to give Alec space.
"So much for our low profile," Sam muttered. "You've got a warrant in St. Louis, and now you're officially in the Fed's database."
He smiled, "Dude, I'm like Dillinger or something."
"Dean, it's not funny," Sam said. "Makes the job harder. We've gotta be more careful now."
"Like not looking up warrants in the middle of the diner?" Alec asked sarcastically. Sam threw a fry at him, making him smile. He messed up Alec's hair since he was just too funny.
"Well, what do they got on you?" he asked.
Sam frowned and typed a little, "I'm sure they just haven't posted it yet…"
"No accessory? Nothing?" he prodded.
"Shut up," Sam muttered.
He laughed, "You're jealous."
"No, I'm not!" Sam said.
"Uh-huh," he said in disbelief.
"There's nothing on Alec either," Sam said to try to use that as a reason for him not having a warrant.
"There wouldn't be," Alec said with a smile. "I'm just that good."
"You spilled your guts to that cop," Sam said.
Alec shrugged, "I liked her."
"What do you got on the case there, you innocent, harmless young man, you," he asked Sam, making Alec laugh.
Sam gave him a bitch-face as he shut his computer in annoyance. He pulled out a few papers and said, "Architect Sean Boyden plummeted to his death from the roof of his home. A condominium he designed."
He hummed in thought, "Build a high-rise and jump off the top of it. That's classy."
"Ironic," Alec threw in.
"When did he call animal control?" he asked.
"Two days earlier," Sam replied.
"Did he actually say Black Dog?" he asked.
"Yeah. A vicious, wild, black dog," Sam said. "The authorities couldn't find it, no one else saw it. In fact, the authorities are a little confused as to how a wild dog could get past the doorman, take the elevator up and start roaming the halls of the cushiest joint in town. After that, no more calls, he doesn't show up for work, two days later, he takes a swan dive."
"Do you think we're dealing with an actual Black Dog?" he asked.
"Well, maybe," Sam said.
"I don't like dogs," Alec said before he took a big bite of his burger.
He messed up Alec's hair again and said, "I know you don't, kiddo." He didn't know why Alec didn't like dogs, but he'd gotten the impression more than once that Alec didn't like dogs. Maybe it was the cat DNA. But he also knew Alec really wanted to hunt a werewolf. "What's the lore on it?"
Sam passed over the papers and said, "It's all pretty vague. I mean, there are spectral black dogs all over the world, but…some say they're animal spirits, others say death omens. But anyways, whatever they are, they're big, nasty-"
"Yeah, I bet they could hump the crap outta your leg. Look at that one, huh," he said holding up one of the pictures of a large, black dog. He smirked when Sam glared. "What? They could." He expected Alec to laugh since Alec almost always laughed at his jokes, but it looked like Alec didn't get it this time. He wasn't going to explain this one, and Alec didn't ask, so he let it go.
They went to a very expensive-looking apartment to talk to the dead guy's business partner. He and Sam changed into suits, but he didn't try to convince Alec to wear his suit this time.
He didn't always come up with a cover for Alec on these things. Half the time, whoever they were talking to didn't even notice Alec. He wasn't sure how his little brother did it, but he was really good at blending in when he wanted to. And he was quick. If anyone asked him what he was doing there, especially when they went as FBI or something like that, he just spun a quick story, selling it better than he could have imagined.
Alec walked around the expensive living room, looking at the decorations on the wall. It looked like he wasn't paying attention, but he knew Alec would be able to repeat this conversation word for word next month if he asked him.
"So, you and Sean Boyden were business partners for almost ten years, right?" Sam asked.
"That's right," the man said. He couldn't for the life of him remember this guy's name. It didn't matter. "Now, one more time, this is for…"
"A tribute to Mr. Boyden. Architectural Digest," he said, hoping that was the name of their made-up magazine. The guy laughed, which was not what he'd been expecting. "This funny to you?"
"No, it's…it's just, a tribute," the guy said, shaking his head. "Yeah. See, Sean always got the tributes. He kills himself, leaves me and his family behind…well, he gets another tribute."
"Right," Sam said. "Any idea why he'd do such a thing?"
"I, I have no clue. I mean, he lived a charmed life."
"How so?" Sam asked.
"He was a flat-out genius. I mean, I'm capable, but next to him…" He trailed off again. "And it wasn't always that way either."
"No?" he prodded.
"You wanna know the truth? There was a time where he couldn't even design a pup tent. Hell, ten years ago, he's working as a bartender at this place called Lloyds. A complete dive," the man said.
"Right. So, what changed?" Sam asked.
"You got me. But overnight, he gets this huge commission, and he starts designing…he starts designing the most ingenious buildings anyone has ever seen. It was like, the level of Van Gogh, and Mozart…"
The guy stopped suddenly, so he asked, "What?"
"It's funny. True geniuses, they seem to die young, don't they? To have that kind of talent? Why…why just throw it away?"
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
He glanced back at Alec, who was sprawled across the backseat, reading. He was pretty sure Alec was the only person in the world who could get away with everything he was doing right that second in their brother's car. Although, it had been Dean who had stopped at the musty bookstore and bought Alec a stack of books. All fiction. A mix of sci-fi, action/adventure, fantasy, and westerns. Alec breezed through books so fast that Dean bought him one or two every few days. There were books scattered throughout the car now. He wasn't sure what they were going to do with all of them, but Alec enjoyed them, so Dean would keep getting them.
But when Alec was at home somewhere, he made himself at home. The backseat of the car belonged to Alec. He had some books stacked in the floorboards, but he had them stacked in a way that they wouldn't slide all over the place. He typically kept a pillow around since he loved sleeping back there. If he could have the window down, then they'd both be down even if he and Dean had theirs rolled up.
Right now, he had both windows rolled down. He was leaning against the door, resting on the windowsill so he was in the sun, stretched out across the entire backseat. He had his feet up on the opposite door, lounging as he read the newest book Dean had gotten him. He didn't even ask what it was since he knew he'd be done with it by the end of the day.
They were waiting for Dean to come back from getting some information from Animal Control. He glanced back at Alec again, and then finally asked, "What are you gonna do with all those?" Alec looked up briefly before he went back to his book. "You're kinda runnin' out of space, don't ya think?" he asked when Alec just ignored his question.
"Dean said I could use the trunk too," Alec mumbled.
That was surprising. It shouldn't be surprising since he knew Dean would do anything for Alec. But the fact that one of them had brought it up and they'd actually talked about it was the most surprising part. "What happens when you fill up the trunk?" he asked. He knew Alec wanted to get back to reading, but he understood Dean a little more now. Something about being a big brother just made him want to bug Alec sometimes. He liked bugging Dean too, which was a little brother thing, but picking on Alec was just too fun.
Alec looked at him like he wanted to smack him, which made him smile. But then Alec smiled innocently and said, "I'll just put them in my room." He groaned; he'd forgotten about the room that Bobby set up for him. He reached back to try to knock Alec's book out of his hands, but his little brother was too fast. Alec laughed, which was so boyish and fun that it made him laugh too. "You have freakishly long arms!" Alec said, moving so he was practically out the window to try to avoid him.
He cracked up when Alec yelled in surprised as he was pulled completely out of the car. Dean laughed as he dragged Alec back before he messed up his hair. He couldn't stop smiling; it felt good to be laughing again. And it was nice to see Dean laughing and messing around.
"What'd you find?" he asked once his brothers were back in the car.
"Secretary's name is Carly," Dean said. "She's 23, she, uh, kayaks, and they're real."
"You didn't happen to ask her if she's seen any black dogs lately, did you?" he asked, keeping his smile hidden when Alec chuckled.
Dean held up a piece of paper, "Every complaint called in this week about anything big, black, or dog-like. There's 19 calls in all. And, uh…" Dean trailed off and handed him a post-it note. "I don't know what this thing is."
He laughed when he realized what it was. His brother was so out of touch sometimes. "You mean Carly's MySpace address?" he asked.
"Yeah, MySpace, what the hell is that?" Dean asked in confusion, which made him laugh again. "Seriously, is that like some sort of porn site?"
He shook his head and decided not to get into with his brother. Alec went back to his book, so he didn't have to explain MySpace to him. If Alec would've asked, he would've taken the time to explain it to him. But Dean probably wouldn't care about the real explanation, so he wasn't going to bother.
They spent a long time going to each place where a black dog had been reported. Nothing really sounded like their kind of thing so far. He wasn't really sure this was a hunt, but they didn't have anything else to do, so they might as well check it out.
"I'm bored," Alec complained as Dean pulled up to another nice house in the suburbs.
"What happened to your book?" Dean asked.
"I finished it," Alec said.
"We've only got a few more," he said. "Then we'll probably find some food."
"I swear, if this is another freakin' Pomeranian barking in the neighbor's yard…" Dean grumbled as they got out and walked up to the front door. Dean knocked, and then a young woman answered the door. "Afternoon, ma'am," Dean said, getting his fake ID out of his pocket. "Uh, Animal Control."
"Oh, someone already came yesterday," the lady politely replied.
"Oh, we're just following up," he said. "We're looking for Dr. Sylvia Pearlman?"
The woman let them in without any other questions. "The Doctor, well, she…I don't know exactly when she'll be back. She left two days ago."
"Ok. And you are…" he trailed off, unsure how to ask if she lived here or not. They didn't necessarily need to talk to Dr. Pearlman. They just needed to talk to someone who saw the dog.
"I'm Ms. Pearlman's maid," the woman said.
"So, where did the Doctor go?" Dean asked.
"I'm not sure," the woman replied. "She just packed and went. She didn't say where." She was quiet for a moment, but then asked, "That stray dog, did you find it finally?"
"Oh, not yet," he said. "You know, you didn't ever happen to see the dog yourself, did you?"
"Well, no. I never even heard it," she said. Alec walked around the room, looking at the pictures on the wall as they talked to the maid. He saw Alec grab one of the pictures off the wall, which was a pretty good bet that he'd found something they needed. "I was almost starting to think the Doctor was imagining things, but she's not like that, so…"
"Hey, you know, I read she was, uh, chief surgeon at the hospital," Dean said. "She's gotta be what, 42, 43? That's pretty young for that job."
"Youngest in the history of the place. She got the position…ten years ago?" she said.
"Huh," Dean muttered with a nod.
"Huh," he agreed. "An overnight success. Ten years ago."
"Yeah, we know a guy like that," Dean said. Alec walked over and handed Dean the picture, out of the frame now. "Oh, look at this," Dean said, looking at the back of the picture. He held it up, so he could see it too, and written on the back was Lloyd's Bar.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
"Are you sure this is a bar?" he asked as they got out of the car. It looked like a shack to him. He was wanting to have a drink, or maybe even something to eat, but he was pretty sure they shouldn't go inside. The whole thing might collapse if they went in.
"Hey," Dean said, stopping in the middle of the gravel road.
"Yeah?" Sam asked, as lost as he was on what Dean thought was interesting about this abandoned intersection.
"That's weird," Dean said as he looked around. He didn't see anything weird. There was nothing here to be weird. There were some yellow flowers, there was the road, and there was 'the bar'.
"What?" Sam asked. At least he wasn't the only one who didn't get it.
"Think someone planted these?" Dean asked. He was pretty sure he was talking about the yellow flowers. Why Dean cared about yellow flowers…he had no clue.
"Middle of all these weeds?" Sam asked.
"These are, uh, what do you call 'em…" Dean muttered.
"Yarrow flowers," Sam said. He wasn't sure if that was the name, or if Sam had just messed up saying 'yellow'. He didn't mention it.
"Yeah," Dean agreed. Ok, so, maybe Sam meant to say 'yarrow'. "Used for certain rituals, aren't they?"
"Yeah, actually. Summoning rituals," Sam said.
"Huh. So, two people become sudden successes about ten years ago. Right around the time they were hanging out here at Lloyd's," Dean said.
"Where there just happens to be a crossroads," Sam said. "You think?"
"Let's find out," Dean said. He was lost. He didn't want to admit that he was lost, but he was. Dean walked to the middle of the crossroads, and then looked around. "This seem about the dead center to you?" Sam nodded in agreement, so Dean knelt down and dug into the ground with his pocketknife. It only took a few seconds before he hit something and stopped. "Yahtzee." He pulled out a small box and opened it.
He walked closer to see what was in it, but he frowned when he saw some small bones and a picture of some dude. Sam grabbed a little jar of what looked like dirt. "I'd be willing to bet that's graveyard dirt," Sam said. "And a black cat bone."
"That's serious spell work," Dean said. "I mean, that's Deep South Hoodoo stuff."
"Used to summon a demon," Sam said.
"Not just summon one. Crossroads are where pacts are made," Dean said. He looked up sharply, not liking the sound of that. He had a really bad feeling. "These people are actually making deals with the damn thing. You know, 'cause that always ends good."
"They're seeing dogs, alright," Sam said. "But not Black Dogs. They're seeing Hellhounds. Demonic pit bulls."
"Yeah, whoever this demon is, it's back and it's collecting. And that doctor lady? Wherever she's running? She ain't running fast enough," Dean said. He stayed silent even though he wanted way more information.
"So, it's just like the Robert Johnson legend, right?" Sam asked. "I mean, selling your soul at the crossroads kind of deal?"
"Yeah, except that wasn't a legend. I mean, you know his music," Dean said. Sam shrugged, so he might actually get something now. "You don't know Robert Johnson's songs? Sam, there's, there's occult references all over his lyrics. I mean, Crossroad Blues? Me and the Devil Blues? Hellhound on My Trail?" Sam just frowned, which made Dean roll his eyes. "The story goes, he died choking on his own blood, he was hallucinating, and muttering about big evil dogs."
"And now it's happening all over again," Sam said. Dean nodded in agreement. "We've gotta figure out if anyone else struck any bargains around here."
"Great. So, we've gotta clean up these peoples' mess for 'em? I mean, they're not exactly squeaky clean. Nobody put a gun to their head and forced 'em to play Let's Make A Deal."
"So what, we should just leave them to die?" Sam asked.
"Somebody goes over Niagara in a barrel, you gonna jump in and try to save 'em?" Dean asked.
"Dean," Sam stated.
"Alright, fine," Dean grumbled before he took a deep breath. "Rituals like this, you've got to put your own photo into the mix, right? So, this guy probably summoned this thing. Let's go and see if anyone inside knows him. If he's still alive."
"Why would someone make a deal with a demon?" he asked before Dean could walk away.
"Well, that guy I was talking about, he was probably the greatest blues player of all time," Dean said. "I'm guessin' he made a deal with a demon to be the best."
"Then the Hellhounds come kill them ten years later?" he asked.
"Looks that way," Dean agreed.
Dean waited a moment to see if he would ask anything else, but he didn't. He just followed Sam and Dean into the bar, thinking. He knew something was wrong with how John died. He'd known something was wrong the moment John started telling him all that stuff back at the hospital. And Dean had been completely healed. Dean had been in worse shape than he'd been in, but he'd made an instant recovery. And John had died suddenly. He could've had a heart attack since it wasn't like they ate healthy food or anything like that. But the fact that he'd died after Dean had made a full recovery was weird.
What if John had summoned the demon and made a deal with him? The gun was gone, Dean was alive, and John was dead. What else could have happened? He hoped Dean wouldn't figure it out. Dean had already been messed up about John dying, and he'd already been thinking that something wasn't right with it. What if he figured out that John made a deal for him? He wouldn't do something stupid, would he?
He just had to hope Dean wouldn't figure it out.
Sam looked back at him once they were in the car again, but he didn't ask him anything. He was going to freak them out if he stayed quiet, but he didn't want to talk. If he said anything, Dean might figure it out. It was bad enough that he'd asked those two questions. He shouldn't have said anything, but he didn't know much about demons.
He knew demons were stronger than him, so he didn't really like hunting them. And he didn't like dogs. So, a Hellhound sounded horrible. He didn't want to hunt a Hellhound. Dean was right; these people had made a deal for themselves. But Sam was right too; they should at least try to help them. He just wished they'd gone anywhere else but here.
They didn't find out much at the bar, so instead, they went to find who the guy was in the picture. He tried to act normal, but he was freaked out. He wanted to talk about what was going on, and he didn't want to talk about it. He was worried about hunting a Hellhound, and he was worried about what Dean was going to do when he figured out that John had made a deal for him. What if Dean tried to make a deal to get John back?
"Look alive, kiddo," Dean said, snapping him out of his thoughts. Dean looked back at him when he didn't say anything, and then asked, "You ok? You look freaked."
"I don't like dogs," he said. That was true, and Dean knew it was true. It was believable to be freaked out by hunting a demon dog. "And a demon dog seems like a bad idea…How do we even kill one of these things?"
"One step at a time, kiddo," Dean said.
"Why don't you like dogs?" Sam asked, turning around to face him from the front.
He didn't want to answer. He didn't want to tell them about dogs being used to chase children. They used to chase him. If his healing abilities didn't prevent him from scarring, then he'd have scars from getting attacked by dogs. He swallowed hard and looked out the window to avoid any sympathetic looks. "Manticore used them to help train us when we were little," he finally said. "They'd chase you down and attack you if you were too slow. One kid was attacked, and the dog went for his neck. The handlers didn't call the dog off in time and the dog killed him."
"Did they ever get you?" Sam asked softly. He nodded and tried to pull himself back together. They were going to bench him if he kept this up. But he really didn't want to hunt a Hellhound.
"Alec," Dean started, using that voice that meant he would do anything to protect him, including benching him.
"I wanna hunt," he said, his voice thick. "I just…I want a plan this time. I don't wanna go into this like we usually do."
Dean was quiet, and it got to the point where he was pretty sure Dean was just going to bench him. If Sam and Dean were going to hunt a Hellhound, then he could stow his crap and help. He wasn't going to let them hunt this thing by themselves. "Alright," Dean finally agreed. "We'll come up with a plan if we decide to hunt this thing."
"Ok," he said. Maybe they would just decide not to hunt the Hellhound. These people made the decision to make a deal with a demon. He hated that John was gone, and he was going to hate it when Dean figured it out, but that had been John's decision. He knew what he was doing when he made the deal, and he was grateful for the deal he'd made.
He followed Sam and Dean into an apartment building. It seemed dark inside, but maybe that was just because he didn't want to be here.
"What's this guy's name again?" Sam asked.
Dean waited a second to see if he would answer, but he just trailed behind his brothers. "George Darrow," Dean said. "Apparently quite the regular at Lloyd's. Though this house probably ain't up next on MTV Cribs, is it?" At least he wasn't the only one who thought this place was a little rundown.
"Yeah. So, whatever kind of deal he made…"
"Wasn't for cash," Dean finished Sam's thought. "Oh, who knows, maybe this place is full of babes in Princess Leia bikinis." Sam sighed and Dean looked back at him, smiling when he saw his small smirk. "No, I'm just saying, this guy's got one epic bill come due. Hope at least he asked for something fun."
They reached the landing to the guy's apartment, but Sam and Dean stopped and looked down instead of knocking. "What is it?" he asked, seeing the line of black stuff on the floor. It wasn't salt, so he wasn't sure what the point was.
Dean crouched down and ran his finger through the line, "Pepper?"
The three of them looked up in surprise when the door suddenly opened. "Who the hell are you?" the man asked. He looked a little…rundown. He definitely hadn't gotten rich from what he could see in the apartment.
"George Darrow?" Dean asked back as he stood up. He turned slightly to hide his smirk; if he was the guy, he would've said, 'no, that's my name', but that guy apparently didn't have a great sense of humor.
"I'm not buying anything," George said, moving to shut the door.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Dean said to stop him. "Looks like you went for the wrong shaker, huh? Usually when you want to keep something evil out, you go for the salt."
"I don't know what you talkin' about," George said. He clearly did know what they were talking about.
"Talkin' about this," Dean said, holding up the picture that had been in the box. "Tell me. You seen that Hellhound yet?"
George didn't say anything. "Look, we want to help. Please. Just five minutes," Sam said to try to smooth things over.
George reluctantly let them in, but he went straight to one side of the room and poured himself a glass of whisky. He was creeped out as soon as they were inside. There were paintings everywhere, but they all made him feel very…uncomfortable. They made him think of Manticore. He wasn't sure why. He just didn't like them.
"So, what is that stuff out front?" Sam asked. His brothers didn't seem nearly as creeped out as he was.
"Goofer Dust," George said like they should already know what that was. "What, you boys think you know somethin' about somethin' but not Goofer dust?"
He tossed a small bag to Dean, who caught it. "Well, we know a little about a lot of things," Dean said. "Just enough to make us dangerous."
"What is it?" Sam asked.
"Hoodoo," George replied. "My grandma taught me. Keeps out demons." That got his attention. That could come in handy. He hoped the little bag that George had tossed to Dean was Goofer Dust. Maybe they could figure out what was in it and make more of it. He'd say they could ask George to show them what was in it, but he didn't want to stay here any longer than they had to. Plus, this guy's time was about up.
"Demons we know," Dean said.
"Well, then, maybe it'll do you some good," George said, walking over to the chair to sit down. "Four minutes left."
It took him a few seconds to figure out that George was timing them. Sam had asked for five minutes, and George was planning on keeping them to it.
"Mr. Darrow, we know you're in trouble," Sam said.
"Yeah, that you got yourself into," Dean threw out.
"But it's not hopeless, alright?" Sam said slowly, sending a quick glare to Dean. "There's gotta be something we can do."
"Listen. I get that you boys want to help. But sometimes a person makes their bed, they've just got to lie down in it. I'm the one called that demon in the first place," George said. At least he was owning it.
"What'd you do it for?" Dean asked. Sam shot Dean another look, silently telling him that was an insensitive thing to ask, so he was glad he hadn't asked it. He'd thought about asking it, but he had kept his mouth shut.
"I was weak. I mean, who don't want to be great? Who don't want their life to mean something? I just…I just never thought about the price," George said.
He didn't understand it. He understood what John did. John had sacrificed himself to save someone he loved. This guy just wanted to be important. The architect wanted to be rich. The doctor wanted to be successful. Maybe they hadn't known that they were going to get eaten by a Hellhound, but if something sounded too good to be true, then it probably was.
"Was it worth it?" Dean asked.
"Hell no," George said. "'Course, I asked for talent. Shoulda gone for fame."
"Shouldn't have done it at all," he accidentally let slip.
The guy looked at him for a few seconds, trying to decide if he should respond to him or not. He finally just shook his head, and he felt like it was more his way of agreeing with him instead of arguing with him. "I got this pile of paintings don't nobody want. But that wasn't the worst."
"Go on," Sam said.
"Demon didn't leave," George said. "I never counted on that. After our deal was done, the damn thing stayed at Lloyd's for a week. Just chattin'. Makin' more deals. I tried to warn folks, but, I mean, who's goin' to listen to an old drunk?"
"How many others are there?" Sam asked.
"Uh, the architect, that doctor lady…I kept up with them," George said. "They've been in the papers. Least they got famous." George looked over at him, and he just glared back.
"Who else, George?" Dean asked. "Come on, think."
"One more," George said. "Uh, nice guy too. Hudson. Evan, I think. I don't know what he asked for. Don't matter now. We done for."
"No. No, there's gotta be a way," Sam tried. He didn't want to help this guy with his creepy painting who summoned a demon for no good reason.
"You don't get it! I don't want a way!" George yelled.
"Look, you don't-"
"I called that thing!" George yelled, cutting Sam off. "I brought it on myself. I brought it on them. I'm going to hell, one way or another. All I want is to finish my last painting. Day or two, I'm done." He didn't get the point of finishing another creepy painting, but at least this guy didn't want their help. "I'm just trying to hold them off 'till then. Buy a little time." George shook his head and looked over at his creepy ass paintings. "Ok boys, time you went. Go help somebody that wants help."
"We can't just-"
"Get out!" George yelled, cutting Sam off again. "I got work to do."
"You don't really want to die," Sam tried, refusing to give up.
"I don't?" George challenged. "I'm…I'm tired."
George refused to say anything else, so they showed themselves out.
"Those paintings creeped me out," he said as they walked down the stairs.
"They were pretty creepy," Dean agreed.
"What do you think this Evan guy made a deal for?" he asked. He wasn't really expecting an answer, but he felt like he had to talk. He hadn't wanted to talk earlier, but now he couldn't get himself to shut up.
"Could be anything," Dean said with a shrug. Dean was just humoring him. His brother didn't really want to talk about what Evan could have asked for. He hoped Dean didn't want him to shut up.
"I'm glad that guy didn't want our help," he admitted. He hoped Sam didn't think he was the worst person for saying that. "But I wish he could've told us what all was in Goofer Dust. That stuff could really come in handy. Do you think it works?"
Dean took a deep breath. He needed to stop. Dean didn't want to talk right now. "Guess he better hope so," Dean finally said. He started to say something else, but Dean cut him off. "Alright, you drive."
"Really?" Sam asked before he could.
"He's worked up right now," Dean said to Sam. "I know he freaks you out when he drives, but he needs a way to unwind."
"I'm not worked up," he said.
"You are," Dean said, giving him a look. "You're suddenly full of questions, when on the way over here, you wouldn't say a word."
"Wait, if Alec drives, that means I'm in the back," Sam said. He smiled since he always thought it was a little funny when Sam had to ride in the back since he had freakishly long legs. Plus, he had a lot of stuff back there now. Where would Sam put his freakishly long legs with all his books there?
"Bingo," Dean said with a smile.
"The backseat is full of Alec's stuff!" Sam said.
"Don't touch my stuff," he said, only somewhat joking.
Dean cracked up laughing, while Sam just gave him his favorite look, his bitch-face. He laughed too and ran ahead to the car, so Dean couldn't change his mind. He loved the backseat of the Impala. It was his, just like the room at Bobby's house was his, but he'd be stupid to pass up a chance at driving. Dean didn't offer the chance to drive very often, so he was definitely going to take it while he could.
"Alec," Sam said in warning. He just laughed more as he got into the driver's seat.
He took it easy on his brothers as he drove around, and he stayed in the car, listening to music while his brothers went to go find out where Evan Hudson lived. He actually entertained the idea of driving off once his brothers were back. He didn't think they should hunt a Hellhound, and he didn't want to protect this Evan guy. He didn't know what he'd traded for, but he didn't think it was their job to save him.
But he didn't want to piss Dean off, so he decided to go where he was told.
"Hey, how do you know where you're going all the time?" Sam asked.
"What d'you mean?" he asked.
"Dean gave you Evan's address. I know for a fact that you've never been here before, so how do you know where you're going?" Sam asked.
He shrugged, "I don't." Dean chuckled and gently smacked his leg with the back of his hand. "Manticore taught us how to read a map and how to figure out layouts of cities for if we needed to make an escape from a mission for extraction. A lot of cities are laid out the same way. I just look for the number first, and then drive around to find the street. I don't actually know where I'm going, but something I learned at Manticore, sometimes it's better to pretend to know what you're doing. Going undercover, you have to be confident, so people believe you. I don't know where I'm going, but I'm driving around like I do, which makes it seem like I do."
"Did you go undercover a lot?" Sam asked. He glanced over at Dean since Sam was asking him a lot of questions. He knew his brothers were both curious about Manticore, but he didn't always want to talk about it. Talking about it brought up the memories again, and he didn't like thinking about that. Dean was leaning against the passenger door, looking like he wasn't paying attention, which meant he was hanging onto every word. Dean had been trying since they'd first met to find out more about Manticore. He knew his brother hated them, and some days he agreed. Some days…he didn't. He knew it was probably weird that he didn't always hate Manticore, but he couldn't help it. He lived there, he'd grown up there, it was hard to see it go. He'd even been pissed at Max for burning the place down. If he ever saw her again, he needed to thank her for burning it down. He never would have met Sam or Dean if she hadn't taken Manticore out.
"A few times," he finally admitted. "Going undercover with Rachel was the longest. I didn't mind going undercover as security or something like that. I guess working security isn't going undercover so much, but sometimes it was. Especially if I was supposed to take out the guy I was guarding."
"Wait, you mean people actually thought you were old enough to be on a security detail?" Dean asked, surprised.
"No one cares how old you are when you can shoot like I can," he said. "Plus, if I put on some shades, I don't look as young."
"How old were you on your first mission?" Sam asked.
He clenched the steering wheel tighter, making his knuckles white. He didn't really want to answer any more questions. It made his heart pound to think about everything he'd done. He didn't want to say too much, and then his brothers would look at him differently. He couldn't lose his brothers. "Sam, take it easy on the questions," Dean said. "I let him drive to make him less anxious. Not make it worse."
Dean knew him so well.
"Alec, I'm sorry," Sam said. "If you ever don't want to answer something, you don't have to."
He took a deep breath and nodded, "I know. I just…I want to tell you guys about it, answer your questions and everything, but…" He stopped since he didn't want to admit it.
"Hey," Dean said when he trailed off. "Nothing you tell us will make us think of you any differently. We're brothers no matter what." He nodded again, but he felt better when Dean reached over and messed up his hair.
They drove the rest of the way in silence. He let his brothers go ahead of him to knock on Evan's door, falling back into the role he was comfortable in while he was hunting with his brothers. Sam knocked and a moment later Evan opened the door. He supposed this might not be Evan, but he was just assuming that was who this was.
"Yes?" Evan asked.
"Evan Hudson?" Sam asked.
"You ever been to a bar called Lloyd's? Would have been about ten years ago," Dean said before Evan could answer if he was actually Evan or not. But the guy flipped out and slammed the door on them and locked it. "Come on, we're not demons!" Dean yelled.
"Any other bright ideas?" Sam asked.
Dean looked at him expectantly, so he smiled since he finally got to break down a door. He kicked the door hard, watching in satisfaction as the door barely stayed on the hinges. That felt good. Sam and Dean ran inside, and he ran to catch up. Evan wasn't right inside, but he heard a door click further in the house. He motioned to the back of the house, and Sam and Dean headed that way without question.
Dean started to kick the door, but Sam caught his leg before he could bust the door down. Sam gave Dean a look as he turned the handle on the door and pushed it open. He chuckled even though Dean had probably really wanted to break the door down.
"Evan?" Sam said as they walked into the room, which was actually a nice-looking office. The guy jumped and spun around in surprise. He looked terrified to see them, and he could admit they looked a little intimidating. They were three pretty big guys who had literally broken into his house. And since he was being hunted by a Hellhound, he should be pretty freaked out.
"Please! Don't hurt me," Evan said, moving so the large desk was between them. Like that would help him.
Sam held his hand up to try to calm the guy down. "We're not going to hurt you, alright? We're here to help you."
"We know all about the genius deal you made," Dean said.
"What? How?" Evan asked, sounding surprised now instead of afraid of them.
"Doesn't matter," Sam said. "All that matters is, we're trying to stop it."
"How do I know you're not lying?" Evan asked.
"What's it matter?" he asked back.
"Kid's got a point," Dean said when Sam shot him a look. He was being insensitive again. "You're kinda running low on options there, buddy-boy."
Evan started pacing around the room. The guy should be nervous. "Can you stop it?" Evan asked, finally asking a relevant question.
"Don't know," Sam replied honestly. "We'll try."
"I don't want to die," Evan admitted.
"Of course you don't. Not now," Dean said without sympathy. He was definitely leaning towards Dean's side on this one.
"Dean. Stop," Sam said, giving Dean the look now.
"What'd you ask for anyway, Evan? Huh? Never need Viagra? Bowl a perfect game? What?" Dean asked.
He very suddenly didn't want to know. This guy didn't look rich, he didn't have creepy paintings, so what did he ask for?
"My wife," Evan stated. His heart plummeted and he quickly looked over at Dean. But his brother laughed, which wasn't what he'd been expecting at all.
"Right. Gettin' the girl," Dean said. "Well, that's worth a trip to hell for."
"Dean, stop," Sam said again. Dean didn't get it. He could be right, but he had a feeling it was like with John. He hoped he was wrong and Dean was right.
"No. He's right," Evan said. "I made the deal. Nobody twisted my arm. That…woman, or whatever she was, at the bar? She said I could have anything I wanted. I thought she was nuts at first, but…I don't know how to…I was desperate."
"Shit," he breathed, walking over to sit on the arm of the small sofa that was in the room. This was so not good.
"Desperate?" Sam asked, looking between him and Evan now in confusion.
"Julie was dying," Evan said.
He dropped his head into his hands. How were they going to keep Dean from figuring out what John had done for him? And how were they going to convince him that it wasn't his fault.
"You did it to save her?" Dean asked with a scowl. He'd probably already figured it out. Why did they have to take this stupid hunt?
"She had cancer," Evan said. "They'd stopped treatment. They were moving her into hospice. They kept saying…a matter of days. So, yeah, I made the deal. And I'd do it again. I'd have died for her on the spot."
"Did you ever think about her in all this?" Dean growled. He knew.
"I did this for her," Evan said, backing up again as Dean took a threatening step toward him.
"You sure about that?" Dean challenged. "I think you did it for yourself. So you wouldn't have to live without her. But guess what? She's going to have to live without you now. But what if she knew how much it cost? What if she knew it cost your soul? How do you think she'd feel?"
Sam moved forward and put his hand against Dean's chest to stop him from going after Evan. "Ok, that's enough," Sam said, his voice low. Then he looked at Evan and said, "You just sit tight, alright? We're going to figure this out." He followed his brothers back out into the hallway with a pit in his stomach. "You alright?" Sam asked Dean once he shut the door to the office.
"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" Dean said. "I got an idea." He pulled out the bag of Goofer Dust and tossed it to him. He scowled at his brother because he knew this meant Dean was going to do something stupid, and he wanted him and Sam to stay out of it. "You throw George's hoodoo at that Hellhound, keep it away from Evan as long as you can."
"What are you going to do?" he challenged, refusing to stay quiet on this one.
"I'm gonna go to the crossroads and summon the demon," Dean replied without backing down.
"Summon…are you nuts?" Sam asked before he could. He asked it a lot nicer than he would have.
"Maybe a little. But I can trap it. I can exorcise it, and I can buy us time to figure out something more permanent," Dean said.
"Yeah, but how much time?" Sam asked.
"I don't know, a while," Dean said with a shrug. "I mean, it's not easy for those suckers to claw their way back from hell and into the sunshine."
"No. No way," Sam said.
"You're not allowed to say no, Sammy, not unless you've got a better idea," Dean said.
"Dean, you can forget it, alright? I'm not letting you summon that demon," Sam said.
"Why not?" Dean growled, tired of arguing. He was ready to jump in and back Sam up, but he knew he needed to wait. He and Sam could wear Dean down until he gave in. They could talk him out of this.
"Because I don't like where your head is at right now, that's why not," Sam said.
"What are you talking about?"
"You know, you've been on edge ever since we found that crossroads, Dean, and I think I know why," Sam said, giving him a look.
"We don't have time for this," Dean muttered. He could be right, but he also knew his brother hated talking about this stuff.
Dean started to walk away, and he was about to go after him, but Sam stopped him just by saying, "Dad." Dean stopped and turned back around. "You think maybe Dad made one of these deals, huh? Hell, I've been thinking it. I'm sure you've been thinking it too. Hell, Alec knew it as soon as he asked those questions."
"It fits, doesn't it?" Dean said quietly. "I'm alive, Dad's dead. The yellow-eyed demon was involved. What if he did? What if he struck a deal? My life for his soul?"
"Dean-" he started, hating that look in his brother's eyes.
"I think I hear it! It's outside!" Evan yelled before he could say anything else.
"Just keep him alive, ok?" Dean said. "Alec, stay here." He started to argue, but then Dean gave him that pleading look that he couldn't say no to. He didn't know what Dean was going to do. He could lose Dean right now, but he had to trust his brother. Dean was the person he trusted most in this world, so he had to trust him that he wouldn't leave him.
Dean ran out of the house, and it physically hurt him to stay where he was.
Sam clapped him on the shoulder, looking as torn up as he felt, but they both stayed where they were.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
He put one of his fake ID photos in the box he'd dug out of the ground before and reburied it in the middle of the crossroads. He stood up and turned around, wondering how long it would take before the demon showed up. He was shocked when he saw a gorgeous woman wearing a black dress behind him.
"So, what brings a guy like you to a place like this?" she asked. "You called me?"
"I'm just glad it worked," he said. Surprised was probably the better word for it, but he wasn't about to backtrack.
"First time?" the demon asked.
"You could say that."
"Oh, come on now. Don't sell yourself short. I know all about you, Dean Winchester."
Her eyes turned red suddenly, which was some seriously freaky shit. "So, you know who I am," he tried to play off.
"I get the newsletter," she said with a shrug.
"Well, don't keep me in suspense," he said. "What have you heard?"
"Well, I heard you were handsome, but…you're just edible," she said. He fought the shiver that was trying to go through him. "What can I do for you, Dean?"
"Maybe we should do this in my car. Nice and private," he said, trying to lure her into his trap.
"Sounds good to me," she agreed.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Alec gave him the Goofer Dust in favor of looking out the windows, watching for the Hellhound. He took the Goofer Dust and started pouring lines across the windowsills and in front of the doorway. He walked over to Evan, and then poured the dust around him in a circle.
"What is that stuff?" Evan asked.
"Goofer Dust," he replied. He wasn't expecting Evan to know what it was, but he didn't want to explain it to him. The guy only needed to know that it would hopefully keep him safe.
"You serious?" Evan asked.
"Yeah. 'Fraid so," he said. "Look, believe me, don't believe me, whatever you want. Just whatever you do, stay inside the circle, alright?"
Evan nodded in understanding.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
He walked with the demon back to the Impala, hoping he could pull this off.
"So, I was hoping we could strike a deal…" he said once they were closer to the car.
"That's what I do," she said.
"I want Evan Hudson released from his contract," he said.
"Hmm," the demon hummed back, pretending to think about it. "So sorry, darling. That's not negotiable."
"I'll make it worth your while," he said to try to tempt her.
"Oh really? What are you offering?" she asked with a flirty smile.
"Me," he stated. This was why he couldn't let Alec come with him on this one. If Alec or Sam were here, he wouldn't be able to even try to pull this one. But they weren't here. It was just him and this demon. He could make any move he needed to get this done.
"Well, well, well," the demon said. "You'd sacrifice your life for someone else's. Like father, like son." His heart nearly broke; now he had confirmation that his Dad had sold his soul to save his life. "You did know about your Dad's deal, right? His life for yours?" the demon taunted. "Oh, I didn't make the deal myself, but…boy, I wish I had."
He clenched his jaw to keep himself from saying something to screw this up. He opened the passenger door for the demon and said, "After you."
"Such a gentleman," she said. She started to get into the car, but then she looked down and stopped, spotting the Devil's Trap he'd made before summoning her. "A Devil's Trap? You've got to be kidding me."
Shit.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Evan spun around suddenly like he'd just heard something, but it didn't look like Sam had heard anything. He hadn't heard anything either, but he was guessing it was the Hellhound. He had no clue how they were going to fight this thing. He'd really wanted a plan on this one, but now they were out of time.
"What?" Sam asked.
"You hear that?" Evan said, eyes wide with fear.
"No, where?" Sam asked. Sam looked at him to see if he'd heard anything, and he thought maybe he could hear something growling, but he also thought his mind could playing tricks on him.
"Right outside the door," Evan said. The door started to shake, and Sam immediately joined Evan in the circle. He frowned since he hadn't expected to see the door shaking.
"Alec, get in the circle," Sam ordered. He stepped into the ring, trying to come up with something they could do. How the fuck were they going to kill a Hellhound? "Just don't move, alright? Stay where you are," Sam said.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
"You stupid, stupid…" the demon snarled as she slammed the door shut and stalked toward him. He backed up to the wooden structure that he'd parked by. "I should rip you limb from limb."
"Take your best shot," he said.
"No. I don't think so. I'm not going to put you out of your misery," she said with a wicked smile.
"Yeah? Why not?"
"Because your misery's the whole point," she said. "It's too much fun to watch. Knowing how your Daddy died for you. How he sold his soul. I mean, that's gotta hurt." He backed into the railing of the structure, unable to go further. "It's all you ever think about. You wake up and your first thought is, 'I can't do this anymore.' You're all lit up with pain. I mean, you loved him so much. And it's all your fault." He swallowed hard because she wasn't wrong. "You blew it, Dean. I could have given you what you need."
"What do I need?" he forced out.
"Your father. I could have brought him back," she stated. "Your loss. See ya, Dean. I wish you a nice long life." She started to walk away, but he wasn't ready to stop talking yet.
"Hold on," he said.
She stopped and smiled back at him.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
He saw Alec bend down to get something out of his boot, and then he was holding a knife. He didn't really think a knife would be able to take down a Hellhound, but his little brother probably felt better with a weapon.
"Do you still hear it?" he asked Evan.
"No," Evan said. The door had stopped shaking, so maybe Dean had struck a deal with the demon. He just hoped his brother was being smart about this. He wished they'd had more time to figure things out or at least come up with a plan. Evan turned again, and then the vent in the wall suddenly flew out. Alec had to duck out of the way as the vent flew at his head. "It's here!"
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
He dropped his head down since he'd blown it. The demon was walking away from him still, which meant there was no chance to save Evan, or find out more about his Dad. He sighed since he was still trying to convince himself that summoning this demon had nothing to do with getting his Dad back. This was to save Evan, not bring Dad back.
"You're lucky I've got a soft spot for lost puppies and long faces," the demon said, making him look up in surprise. "I just can't leave you like this. Besides, you didn't call me here to bargain for Evan. Not really."
"Can you bring him back? My Dad?" he asked.
"Of course I can. Just as he was," she said. "Your Dad would live a long and natural life, like he was meant to. That's a promise." A promise from a demon, that seemed real sincere.
"What about me?" he asked.
"I could give you ten years. Ten long good years with him. That's a lifetime. The family can be together again. John, Dean, Sammy. The Winchester boys all reunited," she said. That was interesting that she left out Alec. Meg knew about Alec, but did all the demons know about him? Or was she leaving him out on purpose. "Look, your Dad's supposed to be alive. You're supposed to be dead. So, we'll just set things straight, put things back in their natural order. And you get ten extra years on top. That's a bonus."
She walked closer to him, so he took a slow step back. "You think you could…throw in a set of steak knives?" he said with a smirk.
The demon took another step closer, finally under the structure. He stepped back again, staying out of reach. "You know, this smart-ass self-defense mechanism of yours…" she started, but then she stopped suddenly and looked up. Bingo. She glared at him when she spotted the Devil's Trap he'd painted on the top. "Dean!" she yelled.
"Now you're really trapped," he said. "That's gotta hurt." It felt really good to trick a demon.
"Let me out. Now," she demanded.
"Sure," he easily agreed. "We just gotta make a little deal here first. You call off your Hellhounds and let Evan go. Then I'll let you go."
"I can't break a binding contract," she said.
"Hmm, and by 'can't' you mean 'don't want to'?" he said. She didn't reply. "Last chance. Evan and his wife get to live to a ripe old age." He gave her another chance to say something, but she still wouldn't agree. "Going…going…"
"Let's talk about this," she finally tried.
"Ok, gone," he said. He moved around the structure as he got Dad's journal out of his jacket.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
The hair on the back of his neck stood up and his heart was pounding with adrenaline. He couldn't see or hear the Hellhounds, but he knew they were here. They weren't gone.
"Sam, they're still here," he said.
"Can you see them?" Sam asked. He shook his head no. "Back in the circle!" The three of them were quick to get back in the Goofer Dust. His eyes widened when deep claw marks started to appear around them. So far, the Hellhounds weren't touching the Goofer Dust, but he wasn't going to bet on the circle of pepper.
He really didn't want to fight a Hellhound.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
He flipped open Dad's journal and got a rosary out of his pocket.
"What are you doing?" the demon asked.
"Oh, you're just gonna go on a little trip," he said, and then added, "Way down South."
"Forget Evan. Think of your Dad," the demon tried.
"Regna terrae, cantate Deo…" He started exorcising the demon, walking around her as he read the Latin.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
A gust of wind suddenly went through the room, blowing the Goofer Dust away. He knew his little knife wasn't going to do anything against a Hellhound, but he felt better with it in his hand.
"Circle's broken. Come on!" Sam yelled, pulling Evan out of the circle.
He ran after them, slamming the door behind him as he went. He ran down the hall just as the door he'd just shut shattered with the force of the Hellhound. He was running as fast as he could without blurring. He didn't want to pass Sam and Evan. But he could practically feel the Hellhounds breathing down his neck.
He hit the wall hard, leaving a dent, and then scrambled to get up again. Sam was in another room now, getting the doors ready to close. He ducked on instinct, and then a massive dent appeared above him on the wall and there was a heavy thud where he'd just been.
He blurred the rest of the way to the room where Sam was. His brother slammed the door shut behind him, and then braced himself against it. The door shook with the force of the Hellhound trying to get in. He ran back over to his brother and tried to help him keep it closed.
He was straining as hard as he could to keep the door closed. They couldn't let the Hellhounds in. Sam wanted to help Evan, and he sort of did too, but there was no telling if they would rip through him and Sam to get to Evan. He couldn't let that happen.
The wood started to splinter. They weren't going to be able to hold onto the door much longer. It wasn't going to matter soon anyway.
He breathed out in relief when the door suddenly stopped shaking. He sank down to the floor and leaned against the door, which was barely still on the hinges. He looked up at Sam, who looked back at him. He really hoped this was over. And he really, really hoped Dean was ok.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
The demon kissed him deeply once he stopped the exorcism. She broke off the kiss after a moment, and he took a step back.
"What the hell was that for?" he asked.
"Sealing the deal," she stated.
"I usually like to be warned before I'm violated with demon tongue," he said.
"Evan Hudson is free," she said. "He and his wife will live long lives."
"How do I know you're not lying?" he asked.
"My word is my bond," she replied. Yeah, that's likely.
"Oh, really?"
"It is when I make a deal. It's the rules," she said. Funny, apparently hell had rules. "You got what you wanted. Now let me go." He looked up at the Devil's Trap. He still had the rosary. He could finish the exorcism and send her right back to hell. "You're gonna double-cross me?" the demon snarled. "Funny how I'm the trustworthy one." He shrugged since he wasn't going to apologize for lying to a demon. "You know, you renege? Send me to hell? Sooner or later I'm gonna climb out, and skinning Evan Hudson will be the first thing that I do." He smiled as he put the rosary away. He climbed up on one of the beams and broke one of the boards off to break the trap. She stepped out, but she couldn't just leave it at that. "I gotta tell you. You would have never pulled that stunt if you knew…"
He knew he shouldn't take the bait, but he hated not knowing. "Knew what?"
"Where your Dad is," she said. "You should have made that deal. See, people talk about hell, but it's just a word. It doesn't even come close to describing the real thing."
"Shut your mouth, bitch." He didn't want to hear this. He couldn't make a deal to save his Dad. He hated what his Dad did, but his brothers were trusting him to come back. He couldn't be tempted to try to save his Dad.
"If you could see your poor Daddy? Hear the sounds he makes 'cause he can't even scream?" she taunted.
"How about I send you back there," he threatened.
Her head dropped back, and then black smoke poured out of her mouth as she screamed. He backed up to stay out of the way until all the black smoke was gone. The girl that the demon had been possessing collapsed to the ground, and then looked around in confusion.
"What…how did I get here?' the girl asked.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Dean told them everything that the demon had said. Dean was driving, having picked them up from Evan's house. He was glad that Evan was ok and was out of his deal, but he really wished Dean hadn't been the one that summoned the demon. At least it looked like Dean hadn't made some kind of deal to get John back.
"Demons lie all the time, right? Maybe she was lying," Sam finally said.
"Come on. That really what you think?" Dean asked. Sam didn't answer, and he didn't think he should really say anything. "How could he do it?" Dean asked.
"He did it for you," Sam said.
"Exactly. How am I supposed to live with that?" Dean challenged. "You know, the thought of him…wherever he is right now…I mean, he spent his whole life chasing that…yellow-eyed son of a bitch. He should have gone out fighting. That was supposed to be his legacy. You know? Not bargaining with the damn thing. Not this."
Dean knew John did it to save him, but John also gave him and Sam their brother back. He didn't know what he'd do without Dean. He needed his brother. But he knew this wouldn't be the best time to tell him all that.
"How many people do you think Dad saved? Total?" Sam asked.
"That's not the point, Sam," Dean said.
"Evan Hudson is safe because of what Dad taught us. That's his legacy, Dean," Sam said. "But we're still here, man. So, we gotta keep going. For him." Dean didn't look convinced, but he figured Dean just needed some time. He hadn't taken the deal from the demon, so he just needed time. John had made his choice and they couldn't change that now. "Dean?" Sam asked when Dean didn't respond.
"Yeah," Dean said, his voice flat.
Sam hesitated, "When you were trapping that demon, you weren't…I mean, it was all a trick, right? You never considered actually making that deal, right?"
Dean didn't say anything. Instead, he turned on the radio full blast and refused to look over at Sam. He should just let it go, but he couldn't. Not like this.
He lunged forward and turned the radio off again, surprising both of his brothers. "Even if you did think about making that deal, you didn't make it," he said. Dean still didn't say anything, but he didn't tell him to shut up either. He patted Dean's shoulder before he turned the radio on again, leaning back in his seat.