210

Neither Sam or Dean are looking very happy. I've given up trying to be subtle and just stare obviously now. Dean has said something that has now made Sam very angry.

"Who cares?!" Sam yells. "Take some responsibility for yourself, Dean! You had no right to keep this from me!"

"You think I wanted this? Huh?" yells Dean. "I wish to God he'd never opened his mouth. Then I wouldn't have to walk around with this screaming in my head all day."

Sam turns away from Dean. I slide out from the picnic table and walk a few paces closer to Sam.

"We've just got to figure out what's going on, then, what the hell all this means," Sam says.

"We do? I've been thinking about this," says Dean. "I think we should just lay low. You know? At least for a while. It'd be safer. And that way I can make sure —"

"What? That I don't turn evil? That I don't turn into some kind of killer?"

I freeze.

"I never said that," says Dean.

"Jeez, if you're not careful you will have to waste me one day, Dean."

"What the hell is going on?" I ask.

Sam and Dean stare at me. Clearly they forgot I was even here.

"Nothing," Dean says to me, then back to Sam. "I never said that! Damnit, Sam, this whole thing is spinning out of control. All right? You're immune to some weirdo demon virus, and I don't even know what the hell anymore. And you're pissed at me, I get it. That's fine, I deserve it. But we lay low until we figure out our next move, okay?"

"Forget it," says Sam.

"Sam, please, man. Hey, please. Just give me some time. Give me some time to think, okay? I'm begging you here, please. Please."

Sam nods.

I pack up my stuff and we get back in the car. I sit in the middle of the backseat, leaning forward as we drive along.

"So are either of you going to tell me what's going on?" I ask.

Dean eyes me in the rearview mirror but doesn't say anything.

"It doesn't matter," Sam mumbles.

"When my brothers are yelling about being killers or killing each other, it kind of matters to me," I say.

Sam and Dean both say nothing. I throw myself back into the seat with a sigh. We reach the hotel and Sam and Dean still aren't talking. I get so bored of it I actually finish my math work from earlier. Eventually everyone gives up pretending to be ok and we all go to bed.

I open my eyes, there's a slither of sunlight coming through a gap in the curtain that is shining directly on my eyes. I blink, groan and sit up. Rubbing my eyes, I look around. Dean is asleep in the bed next to me, I look over to the corner next to the bathroom, Sam's twin bed is empty.

I get out of bed, check the bathroom, the door isn't locked. No Sam. I check out the front window. No Sam. Car still there. I have a thought, go back to Sam's bed. No bag. I look under the bed. No bag.

I go over to Dean and shake him, "Dean!"

He groans, rolls over. "What?"

"Sam's gone," I say.

Dean sits up, "What?"

"Sam. Is. Gone." I say.

"No…" Dean says. He gets up, checks the bathroom, the bed. Grabs the keys. I follow him outside. "Dammit!" He says, slamming the trunk closed.

I stand in my pyjamas, cross my arms. "Nothing?"

"Nothing," Dean says. "Get dressed, we're going."

"Where?"

"Anywhere!"

I take a step back.

"Sorry," Dean says. "We'll find him."

"Something to do with your fight yesterday?"

"Something like that."

We stop for lunch after a complete uneventful time driving…somewhere. I don't ask Dean where. I pull out my laptop at the diner, connect to the Wi-Fi.

"You seriously doing homework?" Dean asks.

"No…" I say. "Sam took his laptop, but he still has a login on mine."

Dean frowns. "You know his password?"

I look up at Dean from over the laptop. "Uh….no?"

Dean smiles. "Does Sam know?"

I look at the screen, going to the browser history. "Yes?"

Dean laughs. "Oh, you are just full of surprises, Munch."

I roll my eyes. "Looks like he was trying to track the other people whose mothers died in the fire at 6 months old…" I keep scrolling. "I don't think he got very far."

Dean thinks for a little. "Could've been heading back to Lawrence…"

"Seeing if there's anyone else?"

"Yeah…"

We finish lunch and head back on the road. Dean is adamant I do schoolwork while we drive.

"Why the sudden interest in my education?" I ask. "You never used to hound me this much."

Dean shrugs, still staring at the road. "Well," he shuffles in his seat. "Since I am now your…legal guardian, I figured I should take…an interest."

I eye him. "Who says you're my legal guardian?"

Dean looks over at me. "Who says I'm not?"

I shrug. "You don't think Sam –"

Dean turns back to road. "Hell no! I'm the oldest, I'm the legal guardian."

"Uh huh…Besides, isn't Dad actually listed as missing, not dead?"

"You still need a legal guardian. And it's me. I'm the one who's been signing off your schoolwork anyway."

"By forging Dad's signature…"

"Not the point."

"Kind of the point."

We drive on, all I manage to do is do some history reading anyway. Dean drives into the night and I doze in and out of sleep. Dean's phone ringing wakes me with a start.

"Hello?" says Dean. "Hey, have you heard from Sam? …Come on, Ellen, please. Something bad could be going on here, and I swore I'd look after that kid….Thanks." Dean hangs up.

"Where is he?" I ask.

"Lafayette."

"What the hell is in Lafayette?"

"We're gonna find out."

Dean drives faster.

We track Sam down to the hotel and Dean pulls up into the carpark. He drives slowly pass the motel rooms, looking in.

"Not suspicious at all," I say.

"I'll just say I'm trying to read the numbers," says Dean.

"If you were really that blind you shouldn't be driving."

Dean sighs with relief and stops the car. I lean over and look out. "Sam!"

"Oh, thank god you're okay," says Dean.

"I feel like he should he sadder…abandoning us and all," I say.

Sam moves from the window and there's a woman in the room too.

"Oh, he's better than okay. Sam, you sly dog!"

"Don't be gross," I say.

"It's not gross…it's…"

I raise my eyebrows at him as he thinks of nothing to say. "Uh huh," I say.

Suddenly the window to Sam's motel room shatters.

I manage to barely start the word 'What' before Dean's hand in pushing my neck down in the chair.

"Stay down!" Dean yells at me as he drives like a maniac, following the bullets I assume.

More shots fire and I slide down to the floor of the car, hands over my ears. Dean pulls the car over screams at me to stay and then runs out of the car.

The shooting stops, but I'm too scared to move. I count to 300 before I sit up again. No sign of Dean. I pull out my phone and call him. It rings, and I…hear it.

I turn in my seat to see Gordon smiling at me. I scream. But Gordon has already opened the door and is dragging me out.

"Get off me!" I yell.

"Don't make this harder than it has to be, sweetheart," he says.

I kick and scream but he's a lot bigger than me and ties something across my mouth as he drags me down the road. He reaches a car, and I look in the backseat and see Dean unconscious. I kick some more but Gordon is strong, and he ties my hands behind my back before he throws me in the trunk of his car, closing me in. I struggle but realize there is a smell coming from whatever he tied around my face…I realize it's chloroform but it's too late to do anything.

I wake up tied to a chair, my head leaning against…I look up. Dean.

"How you doin', Munch?" Dean asks.

"Bastard chloroformed me," I say.

"Oh, that's just cruel," says Dean.

"Bitch wouldn't stop screaming and kicking," it's Gordon.

I look over and see Gordon leaning against an old dresser, watching us.

"Jane's a good kid," says Dean.

A phone rings.

Gordon picks it up off the dresser. "Your brother is calling. Which one of you wants to answer?"

Neither of us say anything.

"Give him the address 5637 Monroe St, don't tell him anything else, or your sister will lose a finger." I notice then that Gordon is holding a gun in his other hand. He walks up to Dean, answers the phone, and puts it to Dean's ear.

"Hello?" says Dean. "…Sam, we've been looking for you…I know…Yeah, I talked to Ellen. Just got here myself. It's a real funky town." Dean looks at Gordon, but Gordon is still just pointing the gun towards me. "You ditched me, Sammy…What? Who? …Jane and I are staying at, uh, 5637 Monroe St., why don't you meet us here?"

"Now, was that so hard?" Gordon asks, putting the phone away.

"Bite me," says Dean.

"Watch it," says Gordon. He comes over to me, pulls out a knife and slices a rope behind me and yanks my hand up by the wrist from out of the ropes. I grunt from the pain. He nicked me with the knife and there's some blood dripping down my arm. "Might just take a digit to prove a point."

Dean says nothing.

"Good boy," says Gordon. He drops my hand. It lands hard on the back of the chair, but I don't make a noise. Gordon reties it behind my back. The rope resting on the cut. I grit my teeth.

Gordon leaves the room.

"You okay?" Dean asks quietly.

"He cut my hand," I say. "The rope is digging in." I look up at Dean and he looks horrified. "But I'm fine," I add.

"Yeah, well Gordon won't be once I'm done with him."

"Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"We're tied up in an abandoned cabin or something."

"Your point?"

"I think Gordon currently has the upper hand."

"Not for long."

Gordon eventually comes back in. He opens a bag on the dresser, his back to us. And he begins to pull out weapons.

"So Gordy," says Dean. "I know me, Janie, and Sam ain't exactly your favorite people, but don't you think this is a little extreme?"

"What, you think this is revenge?" asks Gordon.

"Yes," I say. "Obviously."

"We did leave you tied up in your own mess for three days," says Dean and laughs.

"Which was awesome. Sorry, I shouldn't laugh."

"Yeah. I was definitely planning on whooping' your ass for that," says Gordon.

"Mm-hmm."

"But that's not what this is. This isn't personal. I'm not a killer, Dean. I'm a hunter. And your brother's fair game." Gordon puts a knife into it sheath.

"How is he fair game?" I ask. "He's human."

Gordon laughs a horrible laugh. He pulls out a rifle, leans against a pillar and looks at us. "See, I was doing an exorcism down in Louisiana. Teenage girl, seemed routine, some low-level demon. But between all the jabbering and the head-spinning, the damn thing muttered something. About a coming w*r. And I don't think it meant to, it just kind of slipped out. But it was too late. Piqued my interest. And you can really make a demon talk, you got the right tools."

"And what happened to the girl it was possessing?" asks Dean.

"She didn't make it."

Dean shakes his head. "Well, you're a son of a bitch."

Gordon stares at Dean, stands up straight, stalks over and slaps him. "That's my momma you're talking about." Gordon stands up straight. "Anyway. This demon tells me there are soldiers to fight in this coming w*r. Humans, fighting on hell's side. You believe that? I mean, they're psychics, so they're not exactly pure humans, but still. What kind of worthless scumbag have you got to be to turn against your own race?"

I've never heard someone refer to humans as a race in that context before but I don't think Gordon is in the mood to explain further.

"But you know the biggest kick in the ass?" continues Gordon. "This demon said I knew one of them. Our very own Sammy Winchester."

Dean laughs. A fake laugh. But still. "Oh, this is a whole new level of moronic, even for you."

"Yeah? Come on, Dean. I know. About Sam's visions. I know everything."

"Really? Because a demon told you? Yeah, and it wasn't lying."

"Hey, Dean. I'm not some reckless yahoo, okay? I did my homework. Made damn sure it was true. Look, you've got your Roadhouse connections, I got mine. It's how I found Sammy in the first place." Gordon crosses the room and sits down on an old chair. "About a month ago I found another one of these freaks here in town. He could deep-fry a person just by touching them."

"Yeah, did he kill anyone?" asks Dean.

"Well, besides Mr. Tinkles the cat? No. But he was working up to it. They're all going to be killers, Dean. We've got to take them all out. And that means Sammy too."

"Take them out?" I ask. "They're people!"

Gordon cocks the rifle. "Not anymore."

"You think Sam's stupid enough to walk through that front door?" asks Dean.

"No, I don't," says Gordon. "Especially since I'm sure you found a way to warn him. Ha. You really think I'm that stupid?"

Dean and I exchange a look. Gordon stands up and starts to pace.

"No," says Gordon. "Sammy's going to scope the place, see me covering the front door, so he's going to take the back. And when he does, he'll hit the tripwire. Then," Gordon pulls out a grenade. "Boom."

"Sam's not gonna fall for a frigging tripwire," says Dean.

"Maybe you're right. That's why I'll have a second one. Hey, look. I'm sorry. I wish I didn't have to do this; I really do. But for what it's worth, it'll be quick."

"You're nuts," I say.

Gordon comes over to me and slaps me across the face.

"Hey!" yells Dean.

"I'm not crazy," Gordon whispers in my face. "I'm good at what I do."

I stare at him. Think about spitting on him, but he does have a rifle, so I don't.

Gordon stands up straight again, goes into the back room, presumably to set his trip wires.

"What is his problem?" I whisper at Dean.

"I think he really is nuts," Dean says.

"A nut with an arsenal and a vendetta against Sam. Great."

Gordon comes back in, sits backwards on a chair, watching us. Waiting for Sam.

"Come on, man," Dean says. "I know Sam, better than anyone. He's got more of a conscience than I do, I mean, the guy feels guilty surfing the internet for porn."

Ugh. Didn't need to know that.

"Maybe you're right," says Gordon. "But one day he's going to be a monster."

"But he's not," I say.

"I'm actually helping you," says Gordon. "You just don't realize it."

"Helping us how?" I ask.

"Killing Sam before he becomes the monster."

"How? Huh?" says Dean. "How's a guy like Sam become a monster?"

"Beats me. But he will."

"No, you don't know that!"

"I'm surprised at you, Dean. Getting all emotional. I'd heard you were more of a professional than this. Look, let's say you were cruising around in that car of yours and, uh, you had Little Hitler riding shotgun, right? Back when he was just some goofy, crappy artist. But you knew what he was going to turn into someday. You'd take him out, no questions, am I right?"

"But we know for sure who Hitler becomes," I point out.

"And that's not Sam," says Dean.

"Yes it is," says Gordon. "You just can't see it yet. Dean, Jane, it's his destiny. Look, I'm sympathetic. He's your brother, you love the guy. This has got to hurt like hell for you." Gordon goes to his bag, pulls out some material. He comes over to me and gags me with it. "But here's the thing." Gordon goes to Dean and gags him too. "It would wreck him. But your dad? If it really came right down to it, he would have had the stones to do the right thing here. But you're telling me you're not the man he is?"

I hear the click of a door. Dean and I try and look over, but I see nothing.

"You hear him?" Gordon says quietly. "Here he comes."

A grenade goes off. I squeeze my eyes shut. Please, please let Sam be smart enough to not be dead.

Dean tries to scream through his gag.

"Hold on. Not yet. Just wait and see," says Gordon.

The second grenade goes off. I pull against my ropes. Trying to scream at Gordon. But nothing.

"Sorry Dean," says Gordon. He walks over to me, pushes my hair behind my shoulder. I really would spit at him if I could. "Sorry Janie." I scream at him from my gag.

Gordon, obviously, doesn't care. He goes into the back room with the rifle.

I close my eyes. Crying.

But then I hear, "Put it down now!"

I look at Dean, wide-eyed. We both scream a muffled "Sam!".

I hear Gordon and Sam fighting. Dean and I fight our restraints but nothing much happens.

It feels like forever before Sam finally comes into the room. Sam comes over, looking exhausted. He takes off my gag and starts untying me.

"I'm so glad Gordon didn't kill you," I say.

Sam laughs a little. "Me too." He unties Dean and Dean takes off his gag.

"That son of a-"

"Dean. No," Sam says.

"I let him live once, I'm not making the same mistake twice. He called Janie a 'bitch' Sammy. He's gotta pay for that!"

"Trust me," Sam says. "Gordon's taken care of. Come on."

Sam takes my hand, and he pushes Dean out the door. We barely take five steps outside before I hear gunshots. I run and I turn and see Gordon with a gun in each hand. Insane bastard.

"Come on!" Dean yells. "You call this taken care of?"

We run forward and over a ditch. Sam grabs me by my hand and pulls me down behind the ditch with him and Dean.

"What the hell are we doing?" asks Dean as Gordon continues to shoot.

"Just trust me on this, all right?" says Sam.

"He's a madman shooting at us and you want us to trust you?!" I yell.

"Yes!" yells Sam.

Then there are sirens. I peer over the ditch and see three police cars surrounding Gordon.

"Drop your weapons, get down on your knees!" a cop is yelling.

I smile up at Sam. "Nice," I say.

Sam looks at my hand that he's still holding, sees the blood. "What happened?" he asks, panicked.

"Gordon nicked me with his knife," I say.

"What?!"

"Surprisingly I think it was an accident."

We hear the cops still yelling at Gordon and we peer over the ditch.

Gordon is on his knees and a cop handcuffs him. Such a beautiful sight. They go to Gordon's car and pull out his weapons cache.

"Anonymous tip," says Sam.

"You're a fine upstanding citizen, Sam," says Sam.

I'm sitting on the hood of the car, while Dean calls Ellen to yell at her, but I think she shuts him down pretty quickly and the phone call doesn't last long.

"What did Ellen say?" I ask.

"Nothing helpful," Dean mumbles as he turns back to me.

"Well Gordon is a psychopath, he could've been stalking Sam for all we know," I say.

Dean sighs and helps me off the hood. "How's your hand?"

"Fine," I say. "It was just a cut."

Dean holds my hand up, looking at the bandage that's now wrapped around it.

"It's not going to get worse by you looking at it," I say.

Dean looks at me for a long while.

"What?" I ask. "You're freaking me out."

"Nothing," says Dean. "Get in, we gotta go."

"Sure," I say. "Weirdo."

As we drive, Sam pulls out his phone. Again.

"You're not calling that poor girl again?" I ask.

Sam ignores me and calls. "Hey, Ava, it's Sam, again. Um, call me when you get this, just want to make sure you got home okay. All right. Bye."

"Everything all right?" asks Dean.

"Yeah, I hope so."

"Well, Gordon should be reaching for the soap for the next few years at least."

"Yeah. If they pin Scott Carey's murder on him. And if he doesn't bust out."

"How about we just ignore those possibilities entirely?" I suggest.

"Ok," says Sam.

"Dude, you ever take off like that again," says Dean.

"What? You'll kill me?"

"That is so not funny."

"And redundant," I say.

Sam laughs. "All right. All right. So where to next, then?"

"One word: Amsterdam," says Dean.

"Dean!" Sam yells.

"Come on, man, I hear the coffeeshops don't even serve coffee."

"What do they serve then?" I ask.

"Uh…other stuff," says Dean.

"Are you going to pretend I'm eight years old forever?"

"Yes," say Sam and Dean.

"Well that's just not fair. So Amsterdam?"

"Hell yeah!" says Dean.

"I'm not just gonna ditch the job," says Sam.

"Screw the job," says Dean. "Screw it, man, I'm sick of the job anyway. I mean, we don't get paid, we don't get thanked. The only thing we get is bad luck."

"Well, come on, dude, you're a hunter. I mean, it's what you were meant to do."

"Oh, I wasn't meant to do anything, I don't believe in that destiny crap."

"You mean you don't believe in my destiny."

"You have a destiny?" I ask him.

Dean and Sam say nothing.

"O…k," I say.

Dean clears his throat. "Yeah, whatever."

"Look, Dean," says Sam. "I've tried running before. I mean, I ran all the way to California and look what happened. You can't run from this. And you can't protect me."

"I can try."

"Thanks for that. Look, Dean, I'm gonna keep hunting. I mean, whatever is coming, I'm taking it head-on; so if you really want to watch my back, then I guess you're gonna have to stick around."

"Bitch."

"Jerk."

"Ugh," I groan from the backseat. "Losers."

Sam pulls out his phone again.

"You calling that Ava girl again?" asks Dean. "You sweet on her or something?"

"She's engaged, Dean."

"To you?" I ask.

"No!" yells Sam, the phone to his ear.

"Jeez, calm down."

"What's the point in saving the world if you can't get a little nookie once in a while, huh?" asks Dean.

Sam hangs up the phone

"What?" Dean asks, looking over at Sam.

"Just a feeling. How far is it to Peoria?"

We get to Ava's house. It's dark. No one answers the door, but it's pretty late. I grab flashlights from the car as Sam breaks in through the back door.

"Hello?" Sam calls, shining his flashlight around. "Is anybody home?"

I hear nothing and the house is completely dark. We find the bedroom at the back of the house. I see blood all over the carpet.

"Jane, stay out," says Dean.

"Kind of too late for that…" I say, seeing the blood absolutely everywhere.

"Just stay back there, all right?" says Dean.

I nod and stay in the doorway.

"Oh my god," says Sam, taking it all in.

I stare down at the blood-stained carpet.

"Hey. Sulphur," says Dean from the window. "Demon's been here."

"There's something in the blood," I say, staring at a drying blood in the carpet.

Sam kneels down on the floor where I'm looking. He picks it up. A ring. "Ava…"