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Firth of Fifth

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The day passed by slowly and dusk approached gently, the Winchesters sat at opposite sides of the motel room – Sam at the table once more searching his laptop and Dean lazing on the bed closest the door with a newspaper in one hand and a red pen between his teeth. One determined to find answers, and the other determined to forget.

Removing the pen from his mouth, Dean tapped it lightly against the page, frowning as he read, “There have been a few animal attacks not too far south of here.”

“So?” Sam asked, barely lifting his gaze form the screen in front of him.

“We could go down and check it out. You said you wanted to leave town, so we could go there.”

“I’m not sure we should be jumping into any possible hunts at the moment… besides, animal attacks? Yeah, that happens this time of year – doesn’t mean anything.”

Dean sighed and placed the paper on the bed beside him, swinging his legs over the side of the bed; he stood up and strode over to the table. His brow creased as he watched Sam quickly gaze up before stretching his fingers neatly across the keyboard and going back to staring at the screen, “What you looking at Sammy?”

“Just looking for answers.”

“Okay, let me rephrase that. What you hiding Sam?” His tone became more serious than playful.

Sam rolled his eyes but other than that gave no response to his brother. He wasn’t trying to hide anything, he just didn’t want Dean overreacting about what he was looking at.

“I’m not a computer genius but I do know a shortcut when I see one.” Dean said as he rounded Sam, standing back and to the side a bit so he had a clear view of the laptop screen, pointing to the tabs on the taskbar he smiled and continued, “I also know that Alt and F4 works a hell of a lot better than the tab when you’re trying to hide something.”

“This coming from a guy who doesn’t ever know about MySpace?” Sam teased, lifting a hand up to pull the laptop closed.

“Nah-ah, Sammy. First you show me what you’re hiding.” Dean demanded, gripping Sam’s wrist to stop him closing the laptop.

Reluctantly, when Dean let go, Sam reopened the Internet window he had wanted to keep his brother from seeing. He could feel Dean’s temper rising as the air around them both began to tense and thicken, “Dean…”

“You’re looking for answers then?” Dean asked stoically, voice even and flat, “And you think you’ll find them somewhere between Abraxas and Fera..fer… whatever that name is?”

“Maybe, yeah.” Sam defended, “They’re fire demons, or they’re known to be associated with fire… I was just looking.”

Spinning around and away from his brother, Dean ran a hand roughly through his hair, “So you think whatever this thing is that’s going on with me… you think it’s caused by a demon?”

“Dean… I don’t know what’s causing it. That’s why I’m looking. When… when you were out the demon he said – he said you weren’t one of his…”

“So you both assume some other demon has laid its claim on me?”

“It’s not like that. I wanna rule that out, I really do but as it is… we’ve got nothing. You. Don’t. Burn. It’s not normal, something is causing it.”

“Ever thought it might be a good thing?” Dean asked, his voice small, breaking towards the end of the question. He turned his face down and grabbed his coat, making sure the Impala keys were in the pocket.

Sam pushed his chair back and away from the table, jumping up to his feet, “Where are you going?”

“For a drink.”

“I don’t think you should.”

“I don’t care.” Dean replied, turning back with a sad smile on his face, “I just… I can’t fight with you about this.”

But before Sam got a chance to reply, Dean was out the door and Sam was left staring at the spot where he had been standing, “I’m not asking you to…”

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After climbing into his black beauty, Dean paused for a moment, simply staring at the motel room door. He didn’t know what he was waiting for, maybe he half hoped Sam would walk out and try to stop him… or even offer to come along. He hated taking his anger and frustration out on Sam, and he hated fearing that Sam was right and that above all else, they’d have another major demon player to fight against.

He turned the engine on and put the car into reverse, making his way towards one of the bars he’d seen earlier. Nothing made sense, there had been no signs that another demon was toying with them… so why did it have to be a demon? Surely having one demon trying to use both the boys was bad enough without bringing another one into the fray.

Closing his eyes only briefly as he travelled along the dimly lit road, he thought about his dreams… about the fire woman who looked so much like his mom and about the sudden appearance of the demon. That had been confusing to say the least.

Ignoring his thoughts, the sight of a local bar caught his eye. It looked empty, but after a quick glance at the time he wasn’t surprised, so he pulled up out front and locked the Impala. The bar itself was littered with empty stools, except for the one or two that held the town regulars, and he quickly chose one near the entrance, leaning forwards on the surface, elbows resting neatly.

“What you after?” The barman asked as he placed the glass he’d been wiping back down.

“Whiskey.” He replied dryly, “Any type you got.”

Nodding, the barman returned shortly after with a glass and bottle leaving Dean alone with his thoughts once again. He didn’t have time to think long before he was disturbed by a soft clearing of the throat beside him.

“Hello there.” Said a cheery voice that belonged to a young woman, breaking Dean from his silent trance. She carefully slid herself onto the stool next to Dean and he gave her the quick once over. Cute, very cute. Short blond hair framed her face and the lighting made her eyes almost seem to glow a soft amber. She wasn’t just cute, she was beautiful.

“Hi.” He smiled politely back and tilted his glass towards her, “Drink?”

“Nah, I’m fine. Got one right here.” She raised the glass in her hand before placing it neatly on the bar in front.

“So what brings you over here Miss…?”

“Rebecca. Call me Becky. I saw how well, miserable you looked and thought you needed some cheering up. Surely there’s nothing that bad?”

“You’d be surprised Becky.” He snorted, raising his drink to his lips.

“I don’t think I would Dean.” She smiled, shaking her head slightly.

Dean froze, retracing the conversation with the girl beside him and he couldn’t once remember giving her his name. Hell, he was pretty sure he hadn’t even used his name since entering the joint. And normally when someone knew his name, it wasn’t a good sign and it was normally supernatural.

“Relax. I’m one of the good guys.” She chirped but he didn’t relax.

“And if I believed everyone who told me that I’d have been dead along time ago.”

“Fine but I’m only here to help.”

“I’m pretty good thanks. Don’t need help.”

“Oh yeah? So what about these dreams?”

“What about my dreams?”

“Look, you know your Mom would never lie to you and she would certainly never hurt you. You do know that right?”

Dean felt his heartbeat quicken, “My Mom’s dead. She couldn’t lie to me or hurt me.”

“So you know that’s not her in the dreams?”

“Of course I know but if you’re so physic then you should already know that.”

“I’m not physic but I just wanted to make sure you knew.” She laughed, taking a swig of her own drink.

“Are you high or something? Seriously… what the hell do you want?”

“You’re lost Dean, anyone can see it. You’re worried as well. You shouldn’t be. You’re a good guy. This fire thing… it’s nothing to do with demons. No one’s done this to you.”

“Okay… so why don’t I burn?” Dean asked viciously, not caring that he didn’t even know the girl sitting next him but she seemed to know him and she had answers.

“You did it.” She said simply, as if he should have known the answer all along.

“Oh right, I see. It must have been one of those hoodoo rituals I don’t remember performing.” Dean laughed cruelly, downing the last of his drink and motioning for another one.

“Don’t be silly,” She giggled, “You made a trade.”

“A… a trade?”

“You know, like a deal… you give something in order to get something else.”

“What did I trade?” He asked, tight throat barely allowing the words to be squeezed out.

“Me.” She answered, her heart clenching painfully in her chest as she looked into his sorrowful eyes and felt tears rising in her own.

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