Chapter Text
“Well, here’s to another successful hunt, Sam. No problems at all, everything went off without a hitch.” Dean said, taking a huge bite of his cheeseburger. Sam rolled his eyes.
“Hey, how was I supposed to know that there’d be two of them?” He said, taking a bite of his California burger. “I mean, lore always said that banshees were supposed to be solitary! I don’t think anyone knew that one managed to form some kind of relationship with another one.”
“Well, at least you managed to kill it before it took a second bite out of me.” Dean said, motioning to his shoulder, where he’d bandaged up a gnarly looking bite-mark. Sam sighed.
“Okay, well, you’re welcome for saving your life, I guess. It’s not like you get me out of every hunt unscathed.”
“Wha-? Hey, no hunter ever gets out of a hunt unscathed!” Dean shot back, then sat back and took another bit of his burger. “Whatever, at least our hunt in this town is freakin’ over.”
“Yeah, that’s true. No more screaming-related death omens in this little town.” Sam said, taking another bite. Their lives may have been chaotic and dangerous, but he couldn’t deny that it felt good to help people like that. They finished the rest of their food, and Dean flagged down the server, a pretty girl who’d managed to maintain a calm, unbothered demeanor despite the busy restaurant.
“Hi, was everything good? Can I get you any dessert?” She asked with a smile. Dean grinned back at her and patted his stomach. He glanced at her nametag before responding.
“What kind of pie do ya got, Terri?” Sam rolled his eyes. His brother and his pie.
“We have peach, apple, blueberry, and banana cream, today, sir.” Her smile was still placid as she pulled out her notepad. “And we can add ice cream to any of those.” Dean nodded his head.
“Apple, with ice cream.” He said, folding his arms. “Nothing better on God’s green earth.”
“And for you?” Terri said, looking at Sam, who shook his head.
“Ah, it sounds good, but none for me.” He said with a shrug. Terri frowned a little, the first time either of them had seen anything but her calm smile.
“You sure, honey? Best pie in all of Indiana.” She said, waving over to the pie case. Sam still shook his head.
“Nah, I’m trying to cut down on sugar. Maybe I’ll have a bite of his.” He said. Terri shrugged.
“Your loss, I guess. One slice of apple with ice cream, coming right up!” Terri said with a wink. “Let me know if you change your mind, sugar.” She said to Sam as she turned around to get Dean’s dessert.
“Hey, too much sweet stuff and you’re gonna get sloppy.” Sam said, taking a sip of water.
“I don’t think that’s possible for me.” Dean said, patting his stomach. “Too much stress in my life, too much fighting. Hey, I deserve a reward after a hunt like this.”
“You say that like they’re not all like this.” Sam shot back, but the banter was familiar ground for them and was an easy return to form. There was something comforting about the way that every conversation between them devolved into bickering.
Ever since Dean had gotten him back into hunting, there had been a tension between them that had been hard to overcome. He still felt like he was getting to know his brother all over again. Something had changed in Dean since he’d left for Stanford. He didn’t trust Sam in the same way that he had when they were growing up. Dean’s protective streak was still as strong as ever, and it rankled Sam more than he’d expected now that they were both fully grown.
“So, uh, what’s next?” Sam asked, breaking the silence that had fallen. Dean shrugged.
“I mean, I haven’t heard anything yet. Got my ear to the ground but so far things seem quiet for once.” Dean said, leaning back in his chair. “You really raring to go on another case?” Sam gave a noncommittal shrug.
“Well, I mean you pulled me out of Stanford to help you hunt, so…. You know, I was thinking we’d be hunting more.” Dean’s face darkened a little, but he didn’t acknowledge Sam’s mention of Stanford.
“Hey, we can only hunt as long as we’ve got a case. There’s gonna be some downtime. Hope you’re not planning on bailing every time we’ve got a day without a case.” Dean said, a little bitterness slipping into his voice. Sam frowned.
“Dean, I’m not planning on bailing.” He said, feeling a little irritated. “I’m just asking if we’ve got something yet.” Dean sighed.
“All right, I get it. I mean, god forbid I’m not prepared the next time you decide that you want to run away again.”
“Dean…” Sam said, both irritated and guilty. He shouldn’t have to feel guilty for trying to get out of the nightmarish life that their father had raised them into to forge a new path for himself. Of course, Dean had to take everything personally.
“Whatever, Sammy, I’m glad you’re back.” Dean said, waving his hand and banishing any bitterness from his voice. “Whatever happened in the past is in the past. Once we get back to the motel, we’ll put some feelers out, get some newspapers. Don’t worry, we’ll be back on the road before you can blink.” Sam bit his tongue to prevent himself from continuing the argument.
“Here’s your pie!” Terri was back, holding a plate with a slice of pie and a beautiful scoop of vanilla ice cream. She didn’t seem to notice the tension hanging over their table like dense fog. Dean’s face immediately brightened, as if his tense conversation with Sam hadn’t happened at all.
“Oh, hell yes!” He said, taking the plate and leaning over to smell the warm confection. “Thanks, Terri!” The server smiled back, still placid as ever.
“Enjoy, sir. This pie is unforgettable.” She said before walking back into the kitchen. Sam scoffed once she was out of earshot.
“Unforgettable? It’s pie.” He said, derisively.
“Yeah, exactly, Sammy, it’s pie.” Dean said, scooping a big bite of apples, crust and ice cream. “If there’s anything on earth that’s unforgettable, it’s pie.” Sam rolled his eyes. The pie did look good, a gorgeous slice with glittering sugar crystals clinging to the crust.
“I mean, if you say so. Still.” He eyed the server, who was standing over by the pie cooler, glancing their way every minute or so. “Hey, don’t you think it’s weird how that server can’t keep her eyes off of us?”
“Uh, yeah, Sam, I think it’s weird that a gorgeous woman can’t keep her eyes off of all this.” He said, shoveling in another bite. “Holy shit, this is so good.” He said, his eyes rolling back into his head.
Sam wasn’t convinced of Terri’s innocence so easily. Sure, he couldn’t deny that his brother got female attention in a way that bordered on distracting, but still, there was something about the server that piqued his interest.
“Hey, you want a bite of this?” Dean offered, holding his fork out with a bit of mangled pastry on it. Sam shook his head.
“I’m good.” He said, glancing back at Terri. She was gone now, but something about their interaction with her still stuck with him. Dean scraped the plate, taking the last bite of pie before picking up the plate and licking it. Sam made a disgusted face.
“Aw man, come on. That’s just…” He said as Dean leaned back, a blissful smile on his face.
“Damn, she was right. This is some unforgettable pie.”
“How was it?” Terri was right there, and Sam jumped. Where did she come from?
“Unforgettable.” Dean said with a grin. Terri’s smile widened.
“I told you, it’s pretty special!” She said, setting down the bill. “You can go ahead and pay whenever you’re ready.” Dean nodded, grabbing the slip before standing up. Sam stayed seated as he fiddled with his napkin. Terri was still at the table.
“You sure you don’t want anything else?” She asked Sam, who shook his head.
“Uh, no, I’m good.” He said, his brow furrowed. Terri shrugged before turning away. Sam stood up, going to join his brother at the register. Dean was still there, chatting with the cashier.
“How was your meal, sir?” She said with a smile, taking his card and swiping it. Dean smiled at her.
“Delicious. Terri was right, the pie really is incredible.” The cashier let out a little laugh before handing back his receipt.
“That’s for sure! Best pie in Indiana! Did you get the chance to try it?” She asked, turning to Sam. He shook his head with an awkward smile.
“Ah, no, I’m not big on sweets.” He said. Dean rolled his eyes.
“He means he has no taste.” Dean said to the cashier, who giggled in return. Sam sighed, pulling on Dean’s elbow, steering him outside toward the Impala.
“Come on, Dean, we have to go.” He said as Dean reluctantly turned away and tucked his card and receipt in his jacket pocket.
“Man, do you really have to piss on my parade all the time?” He whined as Sam herded him to the shiny black classic car. Sam slid into the passenger seat as Dean started the car.
“Hey, someone has to keep you on track.”
“I was on track just fine while I was on my own.” Dean said, avoiding Sam’s eyes. Sam sighed. Were they really going to have this argument again? He ignored Dean’s comment, and they drove back to the motel in silence.
Dean sat at the desk in the motel room, twelve different newspapers spread over the table in front of him. Sam was in the shower, singing some stupid show tune. Dean wasn’t one for research, but now he was feeling the pressure to find them a new case. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Sam not to run away again… but Dean still thought it was best if he found them something to do, pronto.
He grabbed his stomach as a strange pain shot through him.
His stomach cramped and he stood, only to fall to the ground as his knees buckled.
Damn, must have stood up too fast.
“Sam!” He said, but he didn’t hear a reply. His brother was still singing, drowning out his brother. Another wave of pain shot through him, this time in his heart. He tried to stagger toward the door, only for his legs to give out underneath him.
The next wave hit harder – like someone had set his blood on fire. This wasn’t just pain anymore, it was wrongness. Something sick was pumping through his blood.
What was happening? Poison? A curse? Dean let out a grunt of pain as his head began to throb, making his vision blurry and hazy. With effort, he rolled onto his side and curled up into a fetal position.
The walls looked like they were breathing, the carpet stretching and warping in front of his eyes.
This wasn’t just food poisoning. Something was definitely going on, and Dean needed to get Sam’s attention. He opened his mouth to call out for Sam, and he managed a strangled cry before yet another wave of pain took hold, causing his muscles to contract again.
When he managed to pry his eyes open, he felt a pit form in his stomach as he realized that he couldn’t focus on anything as the shapes of the furniture and walls seemed to move and change. His own hand looked… wrong. Too long. Too thin. Or was his vision just too blurry?
He heard Sam’s voice through the door. High and full of life. He clung to it like a lifeline, even as the dark pulled him under.
Sam was in the shower, shampooing his hair and humming a song that Jess used to belt while she was doing housework. He could still see her flicking soap bubbles at him from her yellow dish gloves.
It was sad and nostalgic, but he didn’t want to forget her and the little things. Through the sound of the rushing water, he thought he heard Dean calling his name. Sam stopped singing for a second, but didn’t hear his brother’s voice again, so he went back to his shower routine. Only a minute later, he heard something hit the floor, and he sighed and rolled his eyes.
Dean probably knocked over another lamp. Or spilled beer all over the carpet.
“It’s always something with you, Dean.” He mumbled to himself, turning off the water and wrapping a towel around his waist. “Dean!” He called through the door, only beginning to worry when he didn’t hear anything from the other side. He didn’t hear the door open and shut, so Dean should have been on the other side, still.
Sam pulled on his clothes, not bothering to dry his hair and opened the bathroom door, shivering in the sudden chill of the motel room.
“Dean?” He said, scanning the room. Last he saw, Dean was sitting at the desk with a pile of newspapers from around the country, trying to scrounge up a new case for them to work. The newspapers were still on the desk, but the chair was empty. So were the beds, and the kitchenette. Heart in throat, Sam stepped over to the desk, where the Impala’s keys still lay. Dean’s boots were still sitting by the door, too, so he hadn’t left the room.
The air felt wrong in his lungs – like the air before a lightning strike.
“Come on, man, this isn’t funny.” Sam said, checking by the beds for places his brother could hide. Dean wasn’t a small guy, even though Sam towered over him. There weren’t many places in the room that a fully grown man could stay out of sight.
His brother wasn’t hiding anywhere, and there seemed to be no trace of him anywhere he looked. Sam sank down to the bed, pulling out his cellphone and calling Dean’s. His heart sank as he heard the telltale guitar riff from over on the desk. Wherever he was, calling his cell wasn’t going to help him.
Missing. Without a trace.
“Where are you?” Sam said, heading over to the door. He pulled on his own boots and left the room, ignoring his wet hair. If his brother was missing, he was going to go find him.