My original plan for this story was to have John somehow interact with Dean and Sam on a hunt, and for him to observe firsthand on tight their bond as brothers is. But then "The Benders" aired, and I realized that that was a perfect hunt for him to see this on. So the basic premise of "The Benders" is used here, as are a few of the lines I liked the most, or that were most crucial.
Please leave reviews-they make me so happy, and they make me want to keep writing.
The first sign came immediately, the minute I stepped foot in the hotel room. The boys were curled up in their beds, Dean on his back with his arm flung over the side, Sam on his stomach with his feet stretching over the end of the bed.
But as soon as my first footstep sounded on the badly carpeted floor, Dean was up, and he had himself planted in front of Sam's bed, completely shielding Sam from my view. Sam stirred slightly, but Dean put a hand out to him. "Stay there, Sammy," Dean said, drawing his gun out.
"So you still call him that," I answered softly.
Dean moved forward slightly, squinting in the darkness. "Dad?" he asked hesitantly, and I took a few more steps until I was illuminated in the light from the lamp Sam had just flicked on.
Sam moved next to Dean, quickly rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "I thought you were in California," Sam said, attempting to sound casual as he smoothed back his sleep-tousled hair.
"I was, but I heard about your visions, Sam, and I knew I could help," I said, and for a second I would swear I saw Dean flinch.
"I've got it covered," Dean said in a steely tone, and Sam moved closer to Dean until their shoulders were touching.
"I'm sure you're looking out for Sam, Dean, but you can't protect him from this," I said, walking until I was directly in front of them. Instinctively I knew my next words would force Dean to listen to me. "He could get hurt."
Dean sighed, then grabbed his coat. "Let's go talk about this somewhere else," he said, waiting until Sam was out the door before following, effectively cutting me off.
Climbing into the driver's seat of the Impala, Dean settled himself in. I moved towards the front passenger door, but Sam's hand was already on the handle, his lanky body already sliding into the passenger seat. So I settled into the back and into an awkward silence.
The silence was soon filled as Dean reached over and turned on the tape player, Led Zepplin suddenly blaring through the speakers. I saw Sam shoot Dean a grateful look, but before I could say anything we had pulled up to a dingy looking bar.
We walked inside and grabbed drinks, sitting down at a table by the dart board. Dean immediately stood up, tossing the darts fiercely at the board. "Sammy, without even looking I can tell you haven't had a sip of your beer," Dean said, throwing another dart.
Sam laughed, and took a sip. "It's Sam, and I just did so…so there."
"Ah good retort there, Sammy." Dean laughed, and hit another bullseye.
"Sammy," I said, and Dean's next dart went completely off the mark. Sam, about to take another sip of his beer, held the glass in mid air. I plowed on. "Tell me what's been going on."
Sam looked at Dean, who had stopped throwing darts and come back to sit at the table, taking a swig of his beer in the process. "Ok, well a little while ago I started having visions of people dying before they actually died. I could see every detail of what happened."
"Did you manifest any other powers?" I asked, leaning forward on the table.
"I…um…I can move things," Sam said, once again looking to Dean. "With my mind."
"Whenever you want?" I had to admit to myself, this was not a piece of news I had anticipated.
"No, um…" Sam sighed, beginning to fiddle with the ashtray. "It's only happened once. I…ok, I got locked in a closet and I had a vision of Dean…of Dean dying. So I screamed, and the cabinet flew away from the door and I could get out."
"So the ability must be linked to seeing people die." I took a sip of my beer, finding myself jotting down a few notes in my notebook.
"No." As Sam spoke, I looked up in surprise. "No, I don't think so. Because I had visions of other people dying, and I never had a…reaction like that." His gaze flickered to Dean, who was staring at Sam intently.
"Trust me, Sammy, you were probably just too far away from those people or something." After I spoke, hurt flashed across Sam's face. I didn't understand, so I stood up and headed for the bar. "I'm gonna see if they have any food. I'll meet you guys at the car."
"I'll meet you by the car, Sam," Dean said, standing up also. "I have to go take a leak." Sam laughed, and headed out the door. After grabbing a few suspicious looking sandwiches, I met up with Dean as he came out of the bathroom, and we headed to the parking lot.
Making our way to the car, Dean suddenly broke out into a run, sprinting for the Impala. As I got closer, I could make out some papers lying on the trunk of the car. Dean threw open the car door, and stuck his head in. When he emerged, his face had completely changed. He was panic-stricken, eyes wide, breath ragged.
Dean ran up to a group of bikers emerging from the bar, and began questioning them about Sam. They had nothing to say, and he quickly abandoned them, moving around the parking lot. "Sam! Sammy!" he called, and as he continued to get no response his yelling got louder and more frantic.
I moved up to him, putting my hands on his shoulders. "Dean, you have to calm down. I'm sure Sam is fine."
Dean stared at me, his voice shaky. "Dad, you don't understand. We came here, to this town, because huge amounts of people are going missing. And they aren't coming back."