Sam’s idea consisted of telling the police and hospital staff that Amy had been attacked for her handbag and money just outside the motel, and shot as a result, but the attacker had gotten away before Dean and Sam had made it outside to chase him. They didn’t see his face clearly, either. Dean’s wound, as far as they were concerned, hadn’t happened.
After Sam gave Dean a hand patching up his shoulder, they began clearing up the basement and their bedroom, apologizing to Amy whilst doing so. Not that much was damaged, but still, as a fellow hunter, the brothers felt they had to give a little bit back to her before they hit the road again. Dean seemed to have no problem with making things up to Amy, and Sam decided for his own benefit to give them a little privacy for the rest of the night and stayed in the room seguinte door; not that he got much peace a quiet to sleep, of course.
The following morning, Dean woke up to find Amy under the covers seguinte to him. He lay back in cama and smiled. This whole thing had turned out pretty well, really. At the beginning of his last year, he has used to think that having these sorts of nights and hunting to take his mind off his deal would somehow magically stretch the time to longer before his bill came to, but he had realised a mês or two atrás that he couldn’t have been mais wrong. While it was all very well and fun to have nights and hunts like this one, nothing seemed to clear his mind of the inevitable heading his way at the end of May. A slither of fear infested his chest and lurched inside him, but he pushed it away and squashed it without even thinking; he would not let himself be fear’s bitch, no matter how scared he secretly got. Not that anyone else would ever know but him.
He felt the pendant around his neck and smiled.
His seguinte step was to wake Amy up, and they got dressed hurriedly as Sam knocked on the door at nine o’clock. Dean shoved his way painfully into an over-shirt and winced at his shoulder as Amy did similarly. The both laughed as Dean went over to the door and let in Sam with a fully packed duffel bag slung over his shoulder. Dean picked his off up the cama that he’d packed the night before and threw it at his brother, who looked surprised.
“Dude, I’m not your slave. Carry your own.”
“But Sammy,” Dean said quietly in a fake pitiful voice, “my shoulder is really hurting, man. I don’t think whoever tried to fix it did a very good job.”
Sam scoffed and rolled his eyes, then tossed Dean’s small bag over his shoulder to cadastrar-se his own. He looked from his brother to Amy, and sensed the awkwardness he was bringing to the situation.
“I’m, err, going to go and load the car up,” he said, embarrassedly nodding to his brother and walking out of the room.
por the time Dean emerged from the old motel’s entrance, alone, Sam had been sat in the Impala’s passenger assento for about five minutes. He rooted through Dean’s record tapes to see if his amor for technology had had any effect on him. Apparently not. He skimmed through the titles; Boston, furgão, van Halen, until something caught his eye. Bon Jovi. Huh. They’d have to play that sometime soon.
He was brought out of his daydream when he saw Dean come down the motel steps two at a time, with what Sam recognised as a slight hint of sadness in his face. It was a shame they had to leave. Amy was a nice girl, and her being let in on the big hunting secret was a definite advantage. Sam sighed as Dean pulled open the creaking door of his beloved car. He lowered himself and sat down seguinte to his brother.
“So?” Sam pressed. “What did she say?”
“She broke out into Shakespearean verse about how she going to miss my everlasting amor for her,” Dean answered, his sarcasm biting but light-hearted.
Sam grinned. “I liked her. She was cool. Maybe we can call on her if we’re working a job near here again.”
Dean nodded, apparently enthusiastic about this idea. Sam still felt the very slight air of awkwardness between them, however.
“Dean, look, about what I said in the basement, I’m sorry. I want to help. I do. But you being...you, you make it ten times harder than the normal person.”
“It’s fine,” Dean said, surprising Sam. “You were right about what you said. I can’t take my anger at my own fate out on everyone else.”
Sam blinked. He hadn’t expected that sudden but brief peek at Dean’s wide spectrum of emotions.
“Wow. I didn’t expect you be so...not difficult.”
Dean looked at his brother.
“Well, seeing as I had you brought back for my benefit, I’m not going to make my last ano here awkward or filled with arguments with you. That defeats the whole point.”
Sam looked away from his brother’s gaze and out the window of the car. As soon as Dean looked away too, Sam knew the spell of the moment was over, and brave, fearless Dean was once again sitting in the driver’s assento seguinte to him. Without another word, Dean turned the key in the ignition as the familiar purr of the Impala growled, and began to drive away as the tires sprayed the gravel behind them, not ever knowing quite where they were headed next.
After Sam gave Dean a hand patching up his shoulder, they began clearing up the basement and their bedroom, apologizing to Amy whilst doing so. Not that much was damaged, but still, as a fellow hunter, the brothers felt they had to give a little bit back to her before they hit the road again. Dean seemed to have no problem with making things up to Amy, and Sam decided for his own benefit to give them a little privacy for the rest of the night and stayed in the room seguinte door; not that he got much peace a quiet to sleep, of course.
The following morning, Dean woke up to find Amy under the covers seguinte to him. He lay back in cama and smiled. This whole thing had turned out pretty well, really. At the beginning of his last year, he has used to think that having these sorts of nights and hunting to take his mind off his deal would somehow magically stretch the time to longer before his bill came to, but he had realised a mês or two atrás that he couldn’t have been mais wrong. While it was all very well and fun to have nights and hunts like this one, nothing seemed to clear his mind of the inevitable heading his way at the end of May. A slither of fear infested his chest and lurched inside him, but he pushed it away and squashed it without even thinking; he would not let himself be fear’s bitch, no matter how scared he secretly got. Not that anyone else would ever know but him.
He felt the pendant around his neck and smiled.
His seguinte step was to wake Amy up, and they got dressed hurriedly as Sam knocked on the door at nine o’clock. Dean shoved his way painfully into an over-shirt and winced at his shoulder as Amy did similarly. The both laughed as Dean went over to the door and let in Sam with a fully packed duffel bag slung over his shoulder. Dean picked his off up the cama that he’d packed the night before and threw it at his brother, who looked surprised.
“Dude, I’m not your slave. Carry your own.”
“But Sammy,” Dean said quietly in a fake pitiful voice, “my shoulder is really hurting, man. I don’t think whoever tried to fix it did a very good job.”
Sam scoffed and rolled his eyes, then tossed Dean’s small bag over his shoulder to cadastrar-se his own. He looked from his brother to Amy, and sensed the awkwardness he was bringing to the situation.
“I’m, err, going to go and load the car up,” he said, embarrassedly nodding to his brother and walking out of the room.
por the time Dean emerged from the old motel’s entrance, alone, Sam had been sat in the Impala’s passenger assento for about five minutes. He rooted through Dean’s record tapes to see if his amor for technology had had any effect on him. Apparently not. He skimmed through the titles; Boston, furgão, van Halen, until something caught his eye. Bon Jovi. Huh. They’d have to play that sometime soon.
He was brought out of his daydream when he saw Dean come down the motel steps two at a time, with what Sam recognised as a slight hint of sadness in his face. It was a shame they had to leave. Amy was a nice girl, and her being let in on the big hunting secret was a definite advantage. Sam sighed as Dean pulled open the creaking door of his beloved car. He lowered himself and sat down seguinte to his brother.
“So?” Sam pressed. “What did she say?”
“She broke out into Shakespearean verse about how she going to miss my everlasting amor for her,” Dean answered, his sarcasm biting but light-hearted.
Sam grinned. “I liked her. She was cool. Maybe we can call on her if we’re working a job near here again.”
Dean nodded, apparently enthusiastic about this idea. Sam still felt the very slight air of awkwardness between them, however.
“Dean, look, about what I said in the basement, I’m sorry. I want to help. I do. But you being...you, you make it ten times harder than the normal person.”
“It’s fine,” Dean said, surprising Sam. “You were right about what you said. I can’t take my anger at my own fate out on everyone else.”
Sam blinked. He hadn’t expected that sudden but brief peek at Dean’s wide spectrum of emotions.
“Wow. I didn’t expect you be so...not difficult.”
Dean looked at his brother.
“Well, seeing as I had you brought back for my benefit, I’m not going to make my last ano here awkward or filled with arguments with you. That defeats the whole point.”
Sam looked away from his brother’s gaze and out the window of the car. As soon as Dean looked away too, Sam knew the spell of the moment was over, and brave, fearless Dean was once again sitting in the driver’s assento seguinte to him. Without another word, Dean turned the key in the ignition as the familiar purr of the Impala growled, and began to drive away as the tires sprayed the gravel behind them, not ever knowing quite where they were headed next.
