Figured I'd throw one more update up before I called it a night, so here's chapter 17, enjoy!
"I'm driving," Dean said as he eyed up Rufus' beat up Jeep.
I chewed my lip before deciding he wouldn't budge on the issue and threw our bags into the trunk of the car while he started it up.
"Don't know why he couldn't have at least taken this and left my car," Dean mumbled as I crawled into the passenger seat.
"I'm going to try calling him again," I told Dean as I whipped my phone out of my pocket.
The car whipped out onto the main road as my phone continued to ring before it hit Sam's voicemail. I closed my eyes tight in frustration before hanging up and stuffing the phone roughly back into my pocket. Dean's hands gripped the steering wheel tighter.
"Now what did you say this article was about?" Dean asked me, his eyes still glued to the road as he sped to the convenient store Sam and I had visited yesterday.
"I never read it," I told him, "but I saw that the title had something to do with some killer. It sounded like it wasn't the first time they had killed either, but I can't remember the exact words."
Dean's lips tightened as he pressed the gas pedal down even further.
The convenient store came into sight within minutes with the crazed way he had been driving. He had barely put the car in park and taken the keys out of the ignition before he was stiffly making his way into the store, not even bothering to wait for me. Briefly I wondered if his leg was bothering him at all or if it was just stiff from lack of use.
Once I got inside I saw him holding a newspaper I assumed was from yesterday by a recycling bin. I didn't like the look on his face as I saw him reading it.
"You mind?" Dean asked, holding up the day old paper to the cashier who shook his head.
Without wasting more time he brushed past me towards the exit, muttering a 'come on' as he did.
"It's not far of a drive," Dean told me as we got back into the car.
He tossed the paper into my lap and I began reading it immediately. Even after I had read the article I had no idea what Dean and Sam had seen in it.
"I'm not sure I understand," I said suddenly.
Dean glanced over at me. "It's just a hunch right now. I'll let you know when I figure it out."
I sighed and decided I wasn't going to get any better of an answer.
It was nightfall by the time we had reached our destination. We grabbed a motel room quick, assuming it was the same one Sam was at, and changed into our suits, grabbing our fake FBI badges as we headed back out to the Jeep.
Dean drove to the police station in silence, which only added to my discomfort. While Dean seemed to be mildly clued in, I was still at a loss for what was going on and why Sam had left in the middle of the night. I had called him five more times since this morning to no avail.
"This must be it," Dean said gruffly.
He parked the Jeep and was on his feet making his way towards the entrance causing me to jog just to keep up with him. We flashed our badges a few times and ended up finding ourselves in the morgue with the coroner and a dead body on a table. It didn't matter how many times I saw them, they still grossed me out.
"So he didn't do anything to it?" Dean questioned the man curiously.
The coroner eyed him for a moment before telling him no. "He was just interested in the missing piece of the brain."
Recognition seemed to cross Dean's face at this.
"What?" I blurted out before I could stop myself.
"The pituitary gland is missing," the coroner clarified for me.
"Son of a bitch," Dean said under his breath just loud enough for me to catch. He glanced back up at the coroner and thanked him for his time before dragging me out of the room.
"What's going on?" I asked him when he had dragged me to the entrance of the station.
"I can't believe him," Dean said rather unhelpfully, still fuming about whatever it was I didn't understand.
"What? Would you tell me what the hell is going on?"
He paused and glanced at me before continuing his way to the car. "It's a kitsune. They're pretty rare. Back in '98 my dad, Sam and I hunted one." He let out a sigh as he unlocked the car. "I need to call Bobby."
I sat patiently listening into the one-sided conversation Dean was having with Bobby as we sat in the police station parking lot. My eyes kept casually scanning our surroundings as if I might spot Sam strolling up any moment.
"Now what?" I asked him once he hung up his phone.
"He's got to stop back at his motel some time," Dean said, "We'll wait for him there."
Almost three hours had passed in total silence as we waited in the room Sam had checked in to. Dean kept pacing the floor making me feel uneasy. Finally, the sound of the Impala's engine hit our ears. Dean glanced out of the window to check.
"It's him," he told me. "Let me handle this."
I remained seated on the bed as I heard footsteps outside the door. Sam took a few moments to unlock the door before opening it and he jumped in surprise when he saw his brother standing there.
"Hey Sam," Dean said before punching his brother in the face, knocking him back onto the ground.
"Dean!" I shouted.
Jumping up from my place on the bed, I rushed over to where Sam was struggling to get back to his feet. Dean was rubbing the knuckles of his right hand furiously.
"New rule," Dean said sounding as pissed as he had looked all day, "you steal my baby, you get punched."
I shot Dean a look before pulling Sam up to his feet and leading him inside, shutting the door behind us. I walked him over to the bed and sat him down before looking for some ice to wrap in a towel for his face.
"What were you thinking running off like that, Sam?" Dean started. "For all I know Satan could have been calling your plays!"
I gave up on the ice when I found a cold can of beer in the motel refrigerator and handed it to Sam who gingerly pressed it to his temple. He winced at the cold but turned his attention back to his brother.
"How many times do I have to tell you that I'm fine?" Sam asked him.
"Yeah, you're a real poster boy for mental health, Sam. Do you have any idea of the kind of horrible things I had going on in my head?"
"Dean, I left you a note," Sam said defensively. "There was a job in town."
"A kitsune, yeah," Dean said abruptly.
Sam seemed to bristle at his brother's knowledge of this.
"That doesn't explain why you ignored all of our phone calls," Dean said still rounding on his brother. "You had Calista and I worried as all hell!"
"I wanted to take care of it, and I did," Sam told him.
"Really? Where's the body?" Dean asked skeptically.
Sam hesitated as Dean approached him. "There is no body," he finally answered.
"Because," Sam said, "I let her go."
I stood up from where I had sat back down on the bed and crossed my arms, staring Sam down now.
"You what? Why?" Dean asked.
Sam pulled the can from his temple and stared at it for a moment. "It's a long story."
Dean sat down on the bed and gestured for Sam to explain, a stern look was plastered across his face.
Sam began to tell us about the time in '98 when Dean, his dad and himself had been hunting a kitsune and how Sam had come across the daughter of the one they'd been hunting. He hadn't known what she was at first, but they spent some time hanging out together when the girl's mother had showed up. The girl hid Sam in the closet until she got her mother to leave, but she had shown back up and tried to kill Sam. The girl saved his life by killing her mother and Sam let her skip town.
"You never told me that," Dean said after Sam had finished telling his story.
"I never told anyone," Sam admitted. "I mean can you imagine what dad would have done?"
"So you saw the article in the newspaper and you just bolted?" Dean pointed out.
"It was my mess," Sam told him. When he noticed Dean's skeptical look he added, "She killed her own mom, Dean, to save me."
I knew by the look on Dean's face before he even spoke that he wasn't buying it.
"I hear you Sam, I really do, but look at her now. She's dropping bodies, which means we have to drop her. It doesn't matter all of the good she's done in the past. I'm sorry but it's just that simple."
Sam shook his head. "Nothing in our lives is simple," he said in disagreement.
"Look man, I get it. You meet a girl, you feel that spark, there's nothing better, but this freak-"
Sam abruptly got up and grabbed his jacket from the table, cutting Dean off in mid-sentence. My stomach had jumped in my throat at Dean's words and Sam's reaction. Was there more to this than him trying to do the right thing?
"I didn't mean to-" Dean started to say.
"Yeah, you did. I see the way you've been looking at me, like you're waiting for me to go off. I'm not going off. I might be a freak but that's not the same as dangerous."
"I didn't say-"
"It's okay," Sam said, cutting him off again. "say it. I've spent a lot of my life trying to be normal. Come on, I'm not normal. Look at all the crap I've done; look at me now. I'm a Grade A freak. But I'm managing it, and so is she."
"How?" Dean asked.
"She works at a damn funeral home so she doesn't have to kill anyone. She's figured out how to deal."
"Then explain the bodies," Dean shot back.
"Her kid was dying, but she's done. Put either of us in her situation and we'd probably do the same," Sam responded. "You don't trust her, fine, trust me. Please."
Dean paused a moment before answering.
"Seriously?" Sam asked him in near disbelief.
I myself couldn't believe Dean would agree just like, but Sam seemed to think so. Or maybe it was just because he wanted to believe it so he did. Something told me this wasn't the end of this for Dean though.
"Yeah," Dean said in a tone that didn't sound too much like he meant it. Sam still didn't seem to catch it though. "I'm going to head back to the other motel room. And I'll be taking my keys back." He reached over and scooped up the Impala's keys as he glanced at me. "You staying with him tonight?"
I looked over at Sam as he put his jacket back on the table and grabbed the cold can and began icing his lightly bruised face.
"If he wants me to," I answered back.
"Of course I do," Sam told me, and when he caught the look on my face and realization hit him, he sputtered out, "It wasn't like that, I swear."
"I'll leave you two lovebirds alone," Dean said before grabbing his own jacket and making his way to the room we had checked into earlier.
"Are we good?" Sam asked as he tried to catch my eye from across the motel room.
"Yeah, we're good," I said after a moment. "Just, promise you won't run off like that again? You had us worried shitless."
Sam chuckled as he got up and crossed the few paces to where I was standing and I uncrossed my arms from my chest.
"Worried shitless? Sometimes I think you and Dean shouldn't spend so much time alone together," Sam said with a smile as he pushed a strand of my hair behind my ear. "You begin to sound like him."
I rolled my eyes before grabbing the can of beer out of his hands and popping it open. Taking a sip, I shot a wink at him before making my way over to sit down at the table. I didn't make it far before I felt the can of beer being pulled out of my hand.
Sam turned me around on the spot, setting the can onto the little table without taking his eyes from mine, and then he pulled my face to his. My hands immediately pulled him closer to me and I led us back towards the bed where I pulled him down on top of me. We were kissing each other hungrily; it had been awhile since he had let himself be like this with me.
His warm hands were pulling my shirt up and over my head in seconds before he tossed it across the room, and then they were roaming my body and tugging at my jeans. Grinning devilishly, I rolled myself on top of him and began unbuttoning his plaid shirt.
"I hope you weren't planning on getting any sleep tonight, Winchester," I said slyly as I undid the final button of his shirt.
Sam discarded the shirt across the room leaving his toned chest visible in the poorly lit space. My hands began working at the zipper of his jeans next before he finally spoke up.
"I'm fine with that."
He shot me a devious grin before our lips crashed together once again.