Into The Haze of This City and Go South
By
unperfectwolf
Rated:
pg
Warnings: death!fic, spoilers: 2.12
Fandom, Pairing: Supernatural, Gen: Sam and Dean Winchester
Summary: Nevermore to go astray, this'll be the end today. Nightshifter-coda.
Disclaimer: not mine, never was mine, never will be mine.
Word Count: 711
Authors Notes: Lyrics and title from "Stars and Boulevards" by Augustana. Summary from "Renegade" by Styx, for obvious reasons. Spoilers, spoilers. Angsty and dark.

INTO THE HAZE OF THIS CITY AND GO SOUTH

Look out, they're coming after us with big guns
They're only gonna tell you all the bad things I've done
Even if they words they say aren't true, they've won

-Augustana

They could only run for so long. There wasn't anything they could do but hunt evil and try and take care of as much as they could before time ran out.

Dean killed a hunter named Jones in Carlin, Nevada, just off I-80. Ellen called three days later, but neither answered.

Three weeks later, in Winterville, Georgia, as they went around Athens instead of through, another hunter caught up to them. Sam killed this one while Dean knocked out and tied up his kid, a 17 year old who hadn't quite seemed sure why they were hunting two other hunters.

Ellen called a few days later, but she didn't call after they killed a hunter in Attica, Ohio.

Jo caught up with them in a truck stop in Missouri and they let her sit down at their table. She didn't say anything until after the waitress, a tired old lady, had poured her coffee.

She only had one question.

"Why?"

Sam opened his mouth the answer, but Dean got there first. "They came after us."

Jo nodded slowly. Us. The two boys ate and Jo drank another cup of coffee. When they left, Dean stopped Jo before she took off. "Tell them. Tell them it's me, killing, not Sam, and I'll do the same to anyone else who comes after my brother."

Jo didn't have to look into his eyes to tell how serious he was, but she did. She didn't have to look back at Sam, who hadn't said a word the whole time she'd been there, to tell the same went for him as well, but she did.

The message got out, but they kept coming, two more hunters in two more states. In between them a run in with a couple of feds which didn't result in anyone dying, but Dean knew one of the feds was going to need serious recovery time.

It took almost a year of switching cars and hustling money and information and jobs before they got caught out for the final time. They knew it, when it came, and it was Dean who reached out and grabbed Sam's hand, squeezing it tight.

Sam turned so that he was facing Dean, not letting go of his hand, ignoring the feds who were coming closer and closer.

"It's not your fault."

The look Dean gave him told him that he didn't believe what he was saying, but it didn't matter because Sam knew it was the truth.

Once they were safely in whichever high security prison it was they'd been taken to, chained to tables in separate rooms, the interrogations started.

Sam never said a word, just staring into space as the feds listed off every thing they thought Dean had ever done. Dean never said a word, just watched them carefully as they explained everything that they thought he'd ever done, then threatened his brother.

Two weeks, and neither said a word. Two weeks, and the feds were still trying to provoke them.

After two weeks, they put them in the same room. Sam shuffled in, stopping in surprise when he saw Dean. Dean stood up, ignoring the guns pointed at him and the people telling him to sit down.

"Sammy," he breathed, like he thought maybe Sam had been dead, or maybe Sam had been hurt.

"Oh God, Dean," Sam whispered, like maybe he thought Dean had been killed.

They ignored the feds, going as close as they would let them. It wasn't close enough to touch, but neither wanted to give up just seeing each other.

"You doin' okay, Sammy?"

"Yeah. Miss you."

Dean smiled, a true smile, one that reached his eyes. "Miss you too, bitch."

Sam let out a weak, near-desperate chuckle. "Jerk."

Dean's eyes were sad again.

After awhile, soft and unsure, Sam reached out. "So how do we get out of this one?"

Dean shook his head slowly, reaching out too. "We don't."

Sam stared at him, the younger brother finally realizing his big brother couldn't do it all, and then he nodded, letting his fingers tighten around his brother's as the feds stepped in and dragged them back from each other. "Okay. We don't."

Neither of them were alive the next time someone went to their cells.