*(A/N) Hey guys!!! Wow has it been a long time or what? Anyway I found I just couldn't stay away and felt the desperate need to write another Supernatural fic. This will be a sequal to my first story "That which is good". It will take place just after the second last episode of season 4 where ***SPOILER ALERT*** Sam and Dean have their fight and Sam walks out on Dean. There will be no season 4 finale spoilers and I'm just going to extend the time between the episodes and the story will take place in that period.
I own none of the characters from the show Supernatural, and without further ado... we begin.
"You walk out that door Sam... Don't you ever come back!"
Dean's head jerked forward as he woke from his nightmare. A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead, leaving behind it a thin line of moisture. He wiped it away with the back of his hand. It had been four days since their fight and Dean had been having the same dream every night for the past four nights. It wasn't so much a dream as it was a recollection of past events. Unable to return to sleep, Dean sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He checked the clock on his bedside. 4:30 am. He made his way over to the bathroom, deciding to make an early start to the day. He already had his entire day planned out. Look for Sam.
The powerful V8 engine of the Impala rumbled monotonously as Dean drove along the straight road, his focus on the long road ahead both literally and figuratively. Dean was dogged in his pursuit of his wayward little brother, regretful of the harsh words that he had said to him in the aftermath of the fight, but still seething at Sam's actions. Dean was ready to forgive him in a heartbeat though, if he could just find him. He applied a little more pressure to the gas pedal as the roar of the engine became just that little bit louder.
Sam could feel his heart rate slowly begin to rise. His palms were moist with sweat and breathing was becoming harder to do. The beginning stages were starting. He needed more blood. His skin began to itch. Not just in one area though. Everywhere, from his scalp to his little toe. Pacing the small motel room, his mind was racing frantically.
"Where the hell is Ruby? I need her! I need her blood!"
He sat down at the edge of the bed, clenching and unclenching his fists. He tried to think of a way to reconcile with Dean once all this was over. Anything to get his mind off his craving.
"What do I say? How would Dean react? Was the situation beyond repair?"
It wasn't working. His mind just went back to his lust for blood. There was a knock on the door. Sam leapt to his feet and hurried over to the door. Keeping the chain latch secured, he opened the door a fraction. While his cravings were immense, he still had the sense to be cautious. Ruby stood on the other side of the door impatiently tapping her feet. Sam shut the door, unhooked the chain and opened the door fully to allow his demon companion in.
"Where have you been? I've been calling you non stop for two hours." Sam scolded.
"I've been busy getting you this." Ruby said matter a factly, reaching into her jeans pocket and pulling out her silver hip flask. She tossed it to Sam who caught it with both hands. He uncorked the flask and peeked inside. The beautiful crimson liquid inside made his heart beat even faster.
"Whose blood is this?" Sam questioned.
"Does it really matter?" Ruby replied. "You nearly drained me dry last time, I had to get it from someone else."
Sam looked at her questioningly, but in the end knew she was right. It didn't matter who the blood came from, as long as it made him stronger. As long as it quenched his thirst. He put the flask to his lips and emptied it into his mouth. The warm, viscous liquid slid down his throat and into his body. He could feel it coursing through his veins already. Even though he had his own blood already inside him, he could feel the difference between the two. The demon blood made every part of his body feel revitalized... stronger.
"Lilith is a dead bitch." Sam muttered under his breath.
The faint noise of leather hitting leather with extreme force woke James Cooper from his sweet dream.
"No... Scarlett... Don't go." He muttered, frustrated that his dream ended just before the best part.
Rubbing his eyes, he groggily he got out of bed. Making his way downstairs to the kitchen, James noticed that the sound of someone pounding away at a punching bag was gradually becoming louder. Add to it the sound of a female grunting with each strike and he knew exactly who had woken him up. He poured himself a cup of cold coffee from the percolator and made his way out to the backyard. Outside he saw a familiar scene. Jenna, in her workout clothes, working up a sweat as she pounded away at a heavy leather punching bag which was chained to the porch roof. The leather gloves on her hands clashed violently with the leather punching bag, as the bag swung with every forceful blow. She had her ipod earphones lodged into her ears so she was unaware of her brother's presence. Her punch rate began to increase rapidly as she neared the end of her workout. Soon she was throwing in excess of thirty punches in just ten seconds as she finished her imaginary opponent off with a devastating right hook. She took the gloves off her hands and grabbed her towel from the deck chair to wipe her face. Taking the earphones out of her ears, she eventually turned around to face her brother.
"Hey..." She said, panting hard. "Why are... you up... so early?
James just shrugged his shoulders as he took another sip of his coffee.
Wiping down the back of her neck, Jenna looked at her brother in confusion. She walked past him and into the house, calling to him over her shoulder.
"So are we leaving for Janesville today?"
James followed her back into the kitchen.
"Um... you're probably not going to like this idea, but maybe you should sit this one out. Take a little break." James said. He was worried about Jenna. He hadn't stopped worrying since the day she was turned into a creature he was accustomed to hunting with feverish intensity. Ever since she was turned, she seemed more serious about everything. More intense. Like she had lost her youthful innocence. Her ability to have fun and enjoy life. Jenna lived from one hunt to the next, and James was wondering whether the change had affected her more than she was letting on.
"Yeah you're right. I don't like it. What's wrong? Why don't you want me to go?" Jenna questioned.
"You just seem a little overworked is all."
"Overworked? I haven't been on a hunt in over two weeks."
"I'm not just talking about hunting. Maybe you should get away for a few days. Go on a holiday to Miami or Hawaii or something. You know what you should do? Take Serena to Vegas. Have a girl trip."
Jenna looked at James with a raised brow. She could tell something was bothering her brother.
"You alright?" She asked.
"Yeah, I'm fine."
Still not convinced, she decided to drop the issue for now. She wasn't going on no holiday anytime soon. She didn't need one. What she needed was a meal. Jenna made her way downstairs to the basement. The basement which formally held James for one night every year. The one night where the half demon Raphael threatened to take control of him and murder her. That was a bad time for Jenna and she didn't like to be reminded of it. But what the basement symbolized now reminded her of something far worse. It reminded her of what she had become. The holding cell was still there, but inside the cell now stood a large refrigerating unit. She pushed the sequence of numbers on the keypad by the metallic door which opened the cell. The familiar whirring sound of the heavy metal door being slowly unlocked and opened filled the spacious basement. Once the door had been opened, Jenna walked into the holding room and over to the refrigerating unit. Gripping the handle, she pulled the door open. A loud hiss cut through the silence as the door opened and mist billowed out. Inside the fridge where roughly twenty or so large vials. The vials were filled with cow's blood. Taking hold of one of the vials, she closed the chilling unit and made her way over to the bed which was still situated in the middle of the room. On the bed was a shiny metallic injection gun. She inserted the vial into the chamber of the gun. Taking a seat on the bed she rolled up her sleeve. She pushed the needle into the soft flesh of her left forearm. Pulling back on the trigger, the vial slowly began to empty into her body. When the vial was completely empty, she pulled the needle out of her arm, pulled the empty vial out of the chamber, threw it in the bin and left the room without looking back.
Dean sat alone in his motel room. He felt so isolated, so helpless. Usually Sam would be right there with him to help put him at ease, but this time, it was Sam he was hunting. The trail that Sam was leaving behind was faint, but it was there. He was doing a good job of covering his tracks, using every trick that Dean and his father had taught him, but Dean knew every trick and then some. But it showed Dean that Sam didn't want to be found. He had turned his back on his own brother and was now on the run. But Dean wasn't going to give up. He was going to drag Sam back, kicking and screaming if he had to. But for once, Dean acknowledged that he might not be able to do it by himself. Bobby was on his own mission to find Sam, which left Dean with only other place to turn. He could only think of one other ally, whom he could trust.
"Hello?" Came James' voice on the other side of the phone.
"James? It's Dean."
"Dean? How are you? It's been a while."
"James... I need your help."
*(A/N) So there it is. The first chapter. Some old faces re-appearing. In case you haven't already figured it out, it's kind of essential that you read my first story to understand this one, so if you're wondering what the hell is this guy going on about with these made up characters, you can find my first story in my profile page. So tell me what you think of either story and i'll try to have the next chapter up asap.