NOTE: Hello all! So another idea has struck and I'm back again. The time line for this is set after the S2 finale. And with my work schedule I'll only be updating once a week. I'll shoot for more, but if I miss, you 've been warned.
Warnings: Spoilers for both seasons and bad language!
Disclaimer: I own nothing from Supernatural, this is only for fun, just borrowing the characters, making no money (yada yada yada)
Oops: Forgot to mention. The girl (Becca) I'm using her from the episode Skin. I couldn't remember her name and I don't have my DVD right now. I keep thinking her name was Becca or Rebecca or Becky. So I went with Becca. If anyone knows for sure, let me know and I'll fix it. Thanks!
Dean pressed his back against the wall and began reloading his shotgun. He released a loud breath, wiped the sweat from his forehead and turned to Sam who was crouched next to him.
"Okay, on three you light it up. I'll cover you."
Sam nodded and made sure the lighter was ready. "On three." he agreed.
Sam stood, still keeping as close to the wall as he could. The spirit was getting angrier by the minute, tearing the house apart. It was a miracle that neither one of them had been hurt yet, the way it was throwing things around. But for the moment the spirit was content to take out it's rage in the living room behind them. It had been a long night of fighting and searching for the object the spirit was attached to. And as soon as they had found the trinket box, the spirit unleashed everything it had.
Dean had been able to douse the box with salt had been about to light it when the spirit concentrated all of it's effort on them. They had been forced to take refuge behind a wall in the entry way of the house. Now, with Sam's plan, all they had to do was light the box. If they could get to it.
"Okay Sam," Dean started, "one...two...thr..." Dean didn't even finish the word before Sam spun around the wall and made a dash towards the box. "Damn it Sam!" Dean shouted as he vaulted to his feet.
Dean turned the corner just in time to see Sam dodge a vase that was hurtling toward his head. Then the spirit began to manifest next to him. "Never listens to me." Dean muttered as he fired a shot and the spirit dissipated. "Hurry up Sam!" He shouted.
"Shut up Dean!" Sam shouted back.
After dodging a few more flying antiques Sam reached the box where they had tossed it in the fireplace. Without hesitation he flicked the lighter and set it on fire. Just as it started to burn the spirit made one last effort to take Sam with it. It appeared next to Sam and reached out laying a hand on Sam's arm. Sam cried out as it burned his skin just as Dean sent one last load of rock salt into it. With a hiss and a shriek the spirit disappeared.
Sam stood and watched the box burn, rubbing at his throbbing arm. When the box was finally ash a few minutes later Dean came up beside him and doused it with a glass of water. They both stood silent for a minute catching their breath.
Sam was startled a minute later when Dean grabbed his arm. "It's not too bad." Sam said.
Dean shook his head. "Just let me see it Sam." Dean examined the finger shaped burns that marred Sam's forearm. "We'll clean it up back at the motel. Let's go."
Sam frowned as he turned to follow his brother. He didn't miss the anger in Dean's voice. He also didn't miss the fact that Dean picked up everything, shoved it into the duffel bags and carried them both out. Sam rolled his eyes.
"Dean, it's just a little burn. I'm fine. Just stings is all." Dean remained silent. Sam huffed. "What's the problem man?"
Dean threw the bags into the Impala's trunk and slammed it shut. "What's the problem?" He asked calmly. "Well let's see Sam. Maybe the problem is that you don't listen to me!"
Sam's brow furrowed in confusion. "What? Care to explain what that's supposed to mean?"
Dean gave him a 'are you stupid' look. "I said on three Sam. We'd go on three."
"And I did! You counted, you got to three, I ran. It was my plan and I followed it. Not seeing the problem Dean."
"I meant I'd say three, then you'd go! I didn't even finish and you were off running! I wasn't even on my feet yet Sam! What if I couldn't have covered you in time!"
Sam was stunned silent. This was a little much, even for Dean. "Dude. What's the big deal. I was like half a second ahead of you. It's not like we were football lengths apart man." When Dean didn't respond he said, "Besides, you didn't specify to go after three. You said on three."
Without giving Dean time to answer he turned and got into the car. He could hear Dean stomp around to the drivers side. Sam wanted to laugh. This was absurd. Dean being mad over a half a second. It's not like they were fighting a black dog or anything. It was just a spirit. Granted, a pissed off spirit, but nothing that bad.
"I shouldn't have had to specify Sam." Dean said as he got into the car. "I assumed that you understood when someone says on three, they mean they get to three and then you go."
Sam did laugh at that. He rolled his eyes. "Dean, are we seriously going to fight about this man? So next time I'll go after three. Chill out."
Dean gave Sam a dirty look then started up the car. "A lot can happen in a half a second Sam. Besides, I thought we were a team, that you understood how things worked."
Sam let his head fall back against the seat. "Look Dean, I'm sorry. I didn't realize it was that big of a deal. But the jobs done, we're fine and next time I'll get it right. Okay?"
Dean shook his head. "You and me Sammy, we are seriously out of synch."
"Ow Dean, could you be a little rougher!" Sam shouted and yanked his arm out of his brother's hands.
"Quit being such a baby. It's just a little burn cream." Dean said as he pulled Sam's arm back.
"Well you don't have to rub so hard man, it does hurt."
Dean gave a small laugh. "Next time listen to me and these little owies can be avoided."
Sam gave out a frustrated sigh. "Whatever jerk."
"Bitch." Dean automatically responded.
When Dean was done Sam pulled his arm back and finished taping down the gauze over the burn. It really wasn't too bad, just stung. He really did understand why Dean was upset. It had nothing to do with the whole on three thing. It was the fact that Sam got hurt. No matter how trivial the wound. If Sam thought Dean had been overprotective before, well since Sam died and they killed the demon, Dean's protectiveness had gone up five notches.
Sam understood. He really did. He knew that every time something happened to him Dean relived the night he died. Sam could only imagine what Dean went through. Since he never talked about it. Even Bobby wouldn't tell him how Dean was after. But Sam could imagine.
Because Dean wasn't the only on living with that kind of fear. Sam lived everyday with the burden of knowing Dean only had a year to live because of what he did to save him. Sam had yet to find a way to break the deal, but he had no doubt he would. Because there was simply no other option. Just as he understood that to Dean, there was no other option than to make sure he stayed safe.
So, even though he still argued and teased his brother, Sam was determined not to let Dean's overprotectiveness get to him. It made him love his brother all the more.
"Hello? Earth to Sammy!"
Sam was brought out of his thoughts by Dean's snapping fingers in his face. "What?"
Dean rolled his eyes and shook his head. "I've been saying that we should go out, get a drink."
Sam frowned, "I'm kinda tired Dean. But you go."
"Oh come on Sam." Dean practically whined. "For the last month we've been doing nothing but hunting non stop, no breaks man. We need a little fun."
Sam smiled. "Go ahead Dean. But really, I just wanna sleep."
Dean grabbed his jacket and gave Sam one last look, asking with a tilt of his head if Sam was coming.
"Have fun." Sam said.
Dean shook his head. "Like I said Sammy, seriously out of synch."
The ringing of the phone brought Sam out of his deep sleep. Rolling over he saw that it was 2:30am. Glancing at Dean's bed he found it empty. Suddenly a knot formed in his stomach and he lunged out of bed making a mad dash to the phone.
Without looking at the caller ID Sam answered, "Hello?"
"Sam? Sam Winchester?"
"Who is this?" Sam asked.
"Uh, my name is Bobby Davis. I'm an old friend of Sam. Is that you Sam?"
Sam was silent for a second, letting the name sink in. Bobby Davis? Then he remembered. "Bobby Davis from Stanford?"
"Yeah. I know it's been a while."
Sam nodded to himself. "Yeah man. How are you?" Sam was trying to be polite. A million questions had already popped into his head. Why was he calling, how did he get the number? Not to mention the fact that even though Sam knew the guy, it's not like they were friends. More like acquaintances.
"Good. Listen uh...I know this is a weird time to be calling and everything. But...uh...I kinda needed to ask you something. I mean, I know we don't really know each other all that well...but..."
Sam was becoming impatient. "Look man, just ask. How'd you get my number by the way?"
"Becca. She gave it to me. I told her some things and she said that I should call you. That you and your brother could help."
Sam made the connection instantly. Becca would have never given out his number if there wasn't something supernatural going on.
"What's happening?" Sam asked.
The man on the other end hesitated. "This is gonna sound crazy but...well Becca said I'm not and that you would believe me..."
Sam smiled. "I'll believe. Just start from the beginning."
Dean turned the key in the lock, doing his best to be as quiet as possible. He didn't want to risk waking Sam up and getting a lecture about what time it was, or how drunk he was. So he could say that he was more than surprised to step into the room and find Sam sitting at the small table, eyes glued to his laptop.
"What are you doing up?" Dean was proud that his words weren't even that slurred. At least, to him they weren't.
Sam turned and watched as Dean made his way to the bed and plopped down. He was never more happy that the motel was only a few blocks from the bar and Dean didn't dare try to drive. "Have fun?"
Dean smiled widely. "I did. I had fun, I had beer, and I played pool."
Sam smirked. "Wow, what an exciting night."
Dean huffed. "Better than being boring like you. And I won money." Dean pulled out a wad of cash out of his pocket. "Three hundred Sammy boy."
Sam was instantly mad. "You hustled? Alone?"
"I'm a big boy Sammy, I can take care of myself." Dean defended.
"I thought we agreed that we wouldn't hustle alone Dean! It's not a good idea."
"Pull you shorts out of your crack Sam. I didn't hustle. It was a fair game. Guy was good, I was good, bets were fair. I won."
Sam sighed but kind of laughed at Dean's speech. "All right. I'm sorry."
"Soooo, what are ya doin' up?" Dean asked again.
"Researching our next hunt."
"Already? Geez Sammy, you sure know how to enjoy life." Dean had managed to take of his boots and jacket and was not laying on his back staring at the ceiling.
"I didn't go looking for it. It came to us."
"Oh yeah." Dean said, his eyes already closing.
"Yeah, a friend from Stanford called. He's having some trouble. Looks like we're going to California."
Dean may have been drunk, but he didn't miss the tone of Sam's voice when he spoke the words Stanford and California. There was a longing there. Even if Sam would never admit it, Dean heard it. This was the chance Dean had been waiting for.
Okay, so reviews really do make my day! Please let me know what you thought :)