They stepped off the plane, tired and excited at the same time, their bags over their shoulders and legs cramped from a ten hour plane flight. The airport was a tourist trap, advertising the "best" of the city, bustling with activity from excited vacationers. To their left, a cart proclaimed, "The Best Weed Ever!" with its wares proudly displayed, fumes wafting over the gate. To the, right, a strobing display flashed red and played a seductive trance beat. An attractive woman smiled at the male travelers, handing out brightly colored pamphlets. Their fellow passengers chattered about excitedly with their companions. They all were trying to decide what pleasures to partake in first.
"Dude, we are so not in Kansas anymore..."
Dean and Sam Winchester had arrived in Amsterdam.
The hotel they had found was...interesting, to say the least. Not anymore strange than their usual lodgings, but this was internationally odd. It was called "America" and had 50 rooms, each after a state. But Dean's favorite part was the little sign on the table, featuring Miss Texas. Not the pageant winner.
"Dude, this city rules!"
Sam flopped on his bed, legs dangling off, "Sure Dean, it's a dream come true." He rolled his eyes.
"Yeah!" Dean looked in the book of "sights" to see in Amsterdam. "Dude, they are shameless! Shameless, I tell you! They do everything here! It's like a variety pack of sex and drugs!"
"You are way too excited about this man, I just wanna sleep."
"Oh, c'mon! We're in the horny capital of the world! Sleeping is not an option! Check out this place!" He read aloud from the brochure, "'Our women all love everyone in the most intimate of ways.' Dude! This place rules!"
"Right, just let me sleep, alright?" Sam rolled over and closed his eyes, not bothering to get undressed, "Don't forget why we came, Dean. Things are looking for us. This isn't a vacation."
Dean sobered, "Yeah, I know Sammy, but we can have fun too. You do remember what fun is?"
Sam grunted, jet lag catching up to him. Dean took one last look at the book, sighed, and walked towards the bathroom.
"I'm gonna wash out the airplane, dangerous sons a bes!" He went in, "Hey, free condoms." He laughed, " I'm gonna love this place! Hey Sam!" He poked his head back out. But Sam was already asleep. Dean sighed
Sam was right, this trip wasn't for fun. No, they were avoiding fate. Moreover, Sam's fate. If you believed that crap, Dean thought, this is just precaution. Better safe than sorry and all that stuff.
The only reason Sam agreed to come to Amsterdam is that he wanted Dean to stop feeling sorry for him. Besides, if Dean was willing to fly somewhere, that was pretty urgent and important.
Dean turned on the shower and stepped in, putting the heat on full blast. The scalding water cascaded down his back, rivulets of water massaging the hard planes of muscle, aching from the tense flight. He angled his face into the blast, wishing the water would wash away the thoughts in his head just as easily as it cleaned the grime from his body. Instead, his troubled thoughts just swirled about his head like a clogged drain, continuing, bleeding together, never leaving, not going away.