Calver Ridge Chapter Eight

[theron09]

 

Chapter Eight

Dean lifted the last chair up onto the table and looked around the empty bar to see if he’d missed anything. When he was younger, he had hated being in the bar after closing; it had always scared him to see it so empty. Now, though, he was used to the silence, and he found it calming. He gave the bar a last wipe down with a cloth and then closed door that connected the bar to the back; he didn’t want to wake Karl up.

Pulling some change out of his pocket, he headed over to the jukebox and chose a song before sitting down on a stool at the bar. Over the last few years it had become a ritual for him; close up the bar, listen to some music and then leave. Humming along to the song, he reached out for a bottle of whiskey and a glass, poured himself a generous measure. The last few days had been crazy; Karl was great but between staying at the bar and helping Mr Holden out in the shop, he hadn’t had a chance to be alone in a while.

He glanced at his cell as a message came through and sighed; Sam, again. They’d been talking more since the wake, and Sam and John had come into the bar a few times but it was still all so new, so awkward. Things with John weren’t actually too bad; they got on well, had things in common, and John seemed to know not to push him for too much too soon. But Sam was a different story. Every time Dean looked at him, he couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that this was his brother and they’d kissed, or the fact that he wanted to kiss him again. He switched his cell off; the text unanswered, and shoved it into his jacket pocket.

Eyes closed, he drummed his fingers on the bar in time to AC/DC’s ‘Back in Black’ and tried to forget about everything. He frowned as the jukebox stuttered and then stopped, crossed over to it to try and see what was wrong. After hitting a few buttons, he left it; Karl would take a look at it in the morning. He grabbed his drink from the bar and was about to turn the lights off when they flickered and then gave out, leaving him standing in the darkness. He froze; this wasn’t just some freak accident, a coincidence; this was like it had been last time, when he’d found out about Sam’s world. Cursing, he took his cell out of his pocket and switched it on.

“No signal. Why is there never any damn signal?”

He tried the door, almost laughed when it opened. From where he stood, he could see that the light in the backroom was still on and he turned back around to look at the bar that was still in darkness. Hands shaking, he reached for the phone on the wall and dialed Sam’s number.

“Dean?”

“There’s something at the bar.”

“What?”

He wiped a hand over his forehead, “The lights went off and the jukebox stopped and there’s something here, Sam.”

“Okay. Okay, just stay put. We’re on our way.”

“Whatever it was, it’s gone.” John rested his hand on Dean’s shoulder, squeezed slightly, “You’re safe.”

Still clutching the salt cellar that he’d been holding when they arrived, Dean shook his head, “Why here? Why here again?”

“I don’t know, Dean.” Sam walked out of the backroom, “Karl’s okay – he hasn’t noticed anything. I told him we just dropped by to talk to you.”

“Good. The last thing I need is my uncle thinking I’m going crazy, believing in Casper the friendly ghost.”

Laughing, Sam slid down the wall to sit next to Dean, wrapped an arm around his shoulders, “You’re not going crazy.”

“I know that.” Smiling, he shifted closer to Sam, his eyes widening as he realized what he was doing; he really didn’t want to give Sam the wrong idea, but he felt safe. Sam seemed to sense what he was thinking because he held on tighter.

“What do you think it was, Dad?”

“I think it was the same thing that killed Mrs Holden, the same thing that sent those demons after us.”

“But that’s-” Dean looked up at John, “You think they’re targeting me?”

“I think we should talk about this later.”

“You do. You think something’s after me.”

“Dean,” Sam moved his thumb in circles across the top of Dean’s arm, “It’s late. We should leave this until the morning.”

“I’m not going to be able to sleep.”

“We should still wait until morning.” John pulled his keys out of his pocket, “Sam, I’m going to go and look into something. Can you wait here with Dean? Make sure he’s okay.”

“Yeah,” Sam nodded, eyes still fixed on Dean, “Of course.”

“Good. I’ll pick you both up in the morning and we’ll talk.”

He’d never sat in the back seat of the Impala before. With John and Sam in the front, this is what it would have been like if he hadn’t been taken. Dean could just imagine it; him and Sam fighting over who got to ride shotgun, John telling them to take turns. Then, when it was cold or dark or one of them just needed some contact, he and Sam would have huddled in the back together while their Dad drove on. He’d never had a relationship like that with Mikey, but he knew that it would have been like that with Sam.

It had been like that last night; they’d sat in the hallway for hours, backs pressed against the wall, and they hadn’t needed to talk. He had needed comfort and Sam had given it to him just by being there and not saying a word.

“Are you going to tell us, or are we just going to sit here in silence?” Sam twisted around in his seat so that he was looking directly at his Dad.

John nodded, “I’m going to tell you. Both of you. But you need to understand,” he turned to look at Dean, “That this is big.”

“How big, John?”

“Dad? Is it – is it to do with the thing that killed Mom?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s got everything to do with it.”

He’d never known his Mom. Sam hadn’t either, but at least he’d grown up hearing about her, knowing that she loved him. It must have devastated John, losing his wife so soon after his eldest son.

“How did she die? Sam said a fire, but-”

“It was a fire, in the nursery. But she – she was on the ceiling.”

Sam nodded, “We’ve been looking for whatever did it ever since. Dad, you know what it is, don’t you?”

“It was a demon – name of Azazael, or yellow-eyes.”

“Yellow-eyes?” Dean sat up, leaned forward.

“Yeah.”

“Oh, Hell.”

“What?” Sam touched Dean’s shoulder, “What is it?”

“I think he was in the bar. At the wake – but I thought I was just tired, seeing things.”

John closed his eyes, “Then I was right. The son of a bitch is here, maybe targeting the three of us, definitely targeting Dean.”

“How do we kill it?”

Sam shook his head, “You can’t kill a demon, Dean. You exorcise them, send them back to Hell, but you don’t kill them.”

Dean sat back in his seat and stared out of the window, wondering if the demon was out there, watching them.

“There might be a way.”

“What?” Sam’s head snapped around to look at his father, “I didn’t think-”

“There’s a gun that might do the job. Might. But it’ll take us a while to get it.”

“We don’t have time – Dean’s at risk.”

“We have to take him with us.”

“What?”

“That way, we can keep him safe and get the gun to kill the damn thing.”

“Hang on,” Dean shook his head, “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying, son, that I want you to come hunting with us. We’ll train you up – I’ve seen you in action, you’d make a damn good hunter – and we’ll hunt down the thing that’s after you, the thing that killed your friend, killed your Mom.”

He looked out of the window, at the town that he’d grown up in, and then back at Sam and John. Calver Ridge wasn’t his home any more; no matter how much Karl was family, he couldn’t live in a place where everyone knew him as Dean Smithson. “Okay.”

“Dean?” Sam’s eyes widened.

“Okay, I’ll come with you. I want you to teach me how to hunt.”

Sam looked out across the beach to where Dean was standing barefoot at the edge of the water and then turned back to look at his Dad. “This is hard for him.”

“I know.”

“He loves this place.”

“Sam, I know. You should go and talk to him.”

“You think?”

 “He needs to start feeling like a part of this family.”

He nodded, and stepped out onto the sand, walked towards Dean. As he got closer, Dean turned and smiled, then nodded towards the water.

“I grew up here, Sam.”

“You’re going to miss it.”

“I am.” He lowered himself down onto the sand, waited for Sam to do the same. “You know that me coming with you, it doesn’t change anything, right?”

“I wish it could.” Maybe, in time, Dean would come around, would realize that, with the lifestyle they had, they could be together.

“Me too.” Dean picked up a handful of sand, let it fall through his fingers like he had on their first date, “I said goodbye to Karl.”

“How was it?”

He shrugged, “We’ll keep in touch.” They sat in silence for a moment, then, “I think I’m ready to go.”

“Okay,” Sam stood up, held out a hand for Dean, “Come on, then. Time to hit the road.”

 

Chapter Nine

Comments

[twinsarein.livejournal.com]

Dean's handling everything so well. I'm impressed. The whole fily is, though. I hope they can work through it all.