When the coast was clear, Dean and Sam started down the muddy road back to Sam's stolen car.
"You okay?" Dean asked. "You limping?"
"I lost my boots."
"I threw 'em at the trip wires."
Dean had to smile at that.
"That's good thinking Sammy. Made him think you were smithereens."
"Yeah." And Sam smiled at the compliment. "Anyway, Ava saw it in her vision."
"Ava?" Dean asked, in his 'do tell and spare no details' voice. "Was she that sweet young thing I saw through your motel window?"
"You were watching me through my window?"
"Not much to watch there, lover boy. Not 'til Gordon took a pop at you."
"I can't believe you were watching me through my window."
"So – Ava?" Dean brought Sam back to the conversation.
"Um – yeah. Ava. She's like me."
"Hunh. She didn't look that tall."
Sam threw him a glare Dean could see even in the dark, but he explained, "She gets visions too. She saw me - die – in the explosion. She saw me going to the house, and the house exploding, and she saw my boots laying near the trip wires. I figured if it was a good enough detail for a vision, it was good enough to fool him."
"But you're all right?" Dean asked, even though Sam was walking and talking right there next to him. "You sure you didn't get hurt in the explosion?"
"I threw and ducked." Sam said as though that explained it all.
"And a lot of ducking you gotta do there Sasquatch. All this damage is from Gordon?"
"Yeah. He was – determined."
"He tries it again and he's dead. Son of a bitch."
They got to the car. Sam had parked far enough away from the abandoned house to not interest the cops who arrested Gordon. He opened the driver's door with a weary sigh but Dean stopped him with a hand on his arm.
"You got other boots with you? Sneakers? You should put something on your feet."
"In my backpack." Sam gestured to the back seat. He sounded tired now. "I got sneakers in my backpack." He made a move toward the door and Dean stopped him again.
"Take a seat, I'll get 'em for you."
Sam sat sideways in the driver's seat, hunched forward like he was studying his feet. Dean pulled the sneakers out and a pair of clean socks and held them out to Sam. He took the sneakers, "Thanks." but not the socks.
"You need to change your socks too."
"No, I'm fine. I'll just put my sneakers on."
"You need clean socks."
"Seriously Dean, you don't have to go 'all big brother' on me'."
"Dean - I'm fine. I just want to -."
"Sam." Dean insisted and when Sam looked up, Dean gave him a tight 'just do what I say will you?' smile. "Put on the clean socks."
"Fine." Sam sighed and took them. As he leaned forward, something fell out of his jacket and rolled to Dean's feet. A medicine bottle. Dean picked it up.
"Geesh – these are some seriously heavy duty painkillers." Hole blown in your side with an elephant gun heavy duty. Dean waited but got no explanation from Sam. "So Scott -." He shook the bottle, making the pills rattle inside. "Where'd you get these?"
Sam looked up again, squinting a little like he was getting too tired to see straight.
"Oh – um – I went to talk to Scott's father, said I was a friend of his from school. He let me look around his room. Those were on his dresser."
"And Scott is?"
"Scott Carey. He -." Sam hesitated and became intent on changing his socks. It was a little awkward with the cast but he waved Dean back when he stepped forward to help. "He was like me. He could -." He hesitated again and Dean started putting some pieces together.
"Deep fry somebody just by touching them?"
"Yeah. How'd you know?"
"Gordon told me. He hunted him." Dean shook his head. "Son of a bitch. So?" He shook the bottle again.
"I just figured – I just thought - ." Sam took a deep breath. " – my headaches get worse every time and he wasn't gonna need those anymore." He finished tying on his sneakers and folded one dirty sock into the other.
"Do you need one now?" Dean asked. Sam sure looked like he had the mother of all headaches.
"No, no thanks. My arm hurts -." He lifted his casted arm and nodded at the pills. " – but not that much. Just a shower and a bed. Anywhere that isn't this town."
"All right. Give me those." Dean indicated the socks. Sam handed them over and Dean tossed them in the back seat and shut the back door. "Slide over, let me drive. We'll get the car and get on the road."
Sam didn't put up a fuss, he nodded and slid over, pulling the keys out of his jacket pocket. As he was handing them to Dean, Dean was handing him the medicine bottle. He stared at it.
"Whyn't you put that in the first aide until I need 'em?"
"Sure." Dean slid them into his pocket and started the car. "You sure you're okay?"
Sam swallowed and narrowed his eyes a little but nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."
They drove to the motel. Dean stowed Sam's backpack into the trunk and his dirty socks in the laundry bag while Sam checked his motel room for anything he might've left behind. When they were done, before they got into the car, Sam stopped, looking at Dean over the roof. Dean stopped too, waiting for whatever Sam was going to say.
"What?" Dean finally asked.
"Just -." Sam kind of shook his head. " – y'know. Thanks. If you hadn't come looking for me -."
"You'd be wearing dirty socks right now."
"Dean. Just – Max, Webber, Scott – you know?" He looked down and mumbled his next words. "Nobody ever looked for them. I knew you'd be doing nothing but looking for me. Just – thanks."
Well, Max, Webber and Scott hadn't exactly been missing from anywhere, but Dean got what Sam was saying. And he didn't need to be thanked for it, that was like being thanked for breathing, but it meant something that Sammy got it. Got that Dean wasn't just being an over-protective pain in the ass when he went 'all big brother' on him. Whether it was psycho hunters or clean socks.
"You're welcome Sammy. C'mon now, let's get out of here. Get you that bed. If that arm still hurts tomorrow, we'll get it re-x-rayed. You mighta broken it again on Gordon's hard head."
Sam looked ready to argue but then he quirked a smile and nodded.