I don't own Supernatural, Sam and Dean Winchester (but I'd sure like to have him), Bobby and so on. All I own are the people in my story that never appeared in the TV show and my idea to this story. I don't own Kripke – neither the Supernatural-hero nor the more-ass-than-Sheldon Kripke of the Big Bang Theory.
It's my first Supernatural FanFic so I hope you will bear with me. English isn't my native language. I'm from Germany, but if anyone is interested in Beta-Reading – feel free to let me know.
near Alamosa, Colorado
Irene awakes with a strange feeling in her stomach. She doesn't feel sick. It's like something is wrong, but she can't put a finger on it. Her husbands bedside is empty and it's already 2:28 am. She gets up with a sigh, that's probably the reason she woke up at all - because Jeff isn't in bed. They share the bed for almost 30 years now and there were only few nights they have been apart.
She hears noises in the office. Jeff Brunner seems to be talking to someone. She doesn't enter his office – it's an unspoken rule in their house that nobody else is allowed to go in unless they got a specific permission. She knocks on the door: "Jeff, it's really late. Is anybody in there with you? Can't you come to bed and get some rest? There is another day tomorrow." Well, later today.
"Oh, Irene, I forgot the time. I still have some work to do. You know call people in other states and foreign countries, but I'm right now only talking to myself to get my things done. I'll be with you in no time. Just go ahead and sleep."
She isn't wondering about him anymore. He is a bit funny lately, but that's the only problem they have in their marriage and listening to the other people around here, makes them pretty much the happiest couple in their area. It doesn't take her too long to fall back to sleep again.
A few hours later their daughter enters the house. She visits a college in California and is supposed to come home this afternoon. But she could leave earlier and decided to use that time to prepare a breakfast surprise for her parents. Her mother loves surprises and Joanna thinks her father doesn't pay enough attention to his wife. But she is more like him and has been his little princess from the day she was born.
She sees the light in the office and wants to tell her father she's here. She doesn't want to scare him. She knocks on the door, but there is no answer. "Dad?" No response. "Daddy, I'm home." She knocks again. "Dad, I'm coming in now." But she can't. The door is closed from the inside.
"Joanna, what's wrong? You're early." Her mother looks like she was asleep till now.
"Mom, I'm sorry I woke you, but I can't get inside, the door is closed. Is Dad in bed?"
"No, he didn't come to bed at all. I talked to him in the night. He was working in his office, but I don't know." She knocks again. "Jeffrey, open the door you scare Joanna and me. You hear me?"
It's a very heavy wooden door. There is no way the two women can open them. Irene calls the APD. They send a car to their house. She's nervous now and when the police arrives after ten minutes she and her daughter are crying.
The older man opens the door with some tools. Jeff Brunner, Psychologist, 53 years old is sitting in his chair. Dead. Door and windows are, were, closed from the inside. It looks like he had a heart attack, but that's for the coroner to decide. He has a letter in his hands. Looks like last words to his family, but the officers know what it is. There is not much to read:
It started with Aden, it's going back to Aden and it will end with Aden!
The policeman looks at his partner. "Laura, call them. It's another one!" Damn, that makes five! The computer in front of him shows a picture of a boy, maybe five years old. The boy isn't smiling and looking at the picture explains why, but he thinks that he's too old for that crap. It's the same boy from similar pictures in the other four houses. And it makes him sick.
Sam turns the volume down. Dean turns it up. It's always been this way and still is. Not exactly always, but often enough to make it feel like it. It's this way since Sam has those nightmares that aren't vivid enough to be visions, but to real to be none, that it is even harder on him to hear the loud music. He didn't know what this was about. There were men dying in his dreams, but they somehow lived and came back to throw some kind of party. He can't see their faces, he can't see what or who the small figure on the couch with them is and he doesn't even know what kind of party it is. He needs some rest and the loud music of his brother causes him another headache. Great! This song is annoying!
Dean has a similar problem. He has no dreams, but he feels watched. Like he has a stalker or anything. But there is none and they didn't find anything supernatural around them. He is too nervous about any noise and in bad mood. But he doesn't want to take it out on his baby brother. So he solves the problem of relieving tension the way he always does. With loud music and singing along. That's what he does right now and what drives Sam crazy. And he yells at Dean, but he pretends not to hear him, well he doesn't even try. Come on, listening and singing at the same time?
When the song is finally over. Dean stops the music. "Sammy? Now."
"It's Sam. And could you be more specific about the 'now'?"
"I sometimes doubt that you're the genius in our family. Now means in this exact moment, right away or just spit it out."
"Very funny. What do you want me to tell you?"
Dean grins. "Really, you don't know anymore?"
"Dean, tell me or shut up!"
"Poor Samantha, I'm sorry for annoying you. Okay you wanted to tell me what you thought was strange in the newspapers. And I hope it's not some giant potato or a cabit. You never know in those places."
"That was six hours ago, Dean. When you were ignoring me during breakfast. What the hell is a cabit?"
"You know, it's when a cat and a rabbit..."
"Really, Dean? And here I thought you had a least half of my intelligence." Sam took a deep breath. "Okay, I got the newspapers from our last stop in Kansas and the one from our second stop in Colorado. And they have both similar stories. In Colorado, five men died on heart attacks, all between 50 and 70 and all in bolted and barred rooms. All of them had the same note in their hand, but the police didn't publish what it said, because they think it's a hint. The same thing happened in Kansas, but there are three men and one woman dead."
"Okay, that's a tragedy. But why is it a case for us? And why does the police investigate in heart attacks?"
"Because that's most unlikely in those small towns. I mean so many people with that letter in their hand and nobody could come in or out the rooms. The last one was two days ago close to Alamosa. It's sixty miles from here."
"Okay, let's go there." Dean turns the music back on and listens to Bat out of Hell from Meat Loaf.