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Saturday, January 12, 2013

Learning Dean Winchester Chapter Fifteen

         I started out having one chapter here, but I like the idea of two chapters, so this is not the end of the story.  I hope you enjoy.  -Tisha

        Dean stayed at the cabin for two weeks.  He was restless and was trying to bury the fears he was feeling deep within himself.  Sam had not been in touch and the hunter knew he would still have to function.

        The man paced back and forth in the large living room of the cabin.  He had fought well with Cas and Benny, but they weren’t Sam.   

        After the third week with no word, Dean almost called his brother.  He changed his mind.  He’d given Sammy time to make up his mind.  It wouldn’t be right to call him. 

        Two days into the fourth week with no calls, Dean packed his duffel and loaded the Impala.  There were snack foods in the kitchen pantry.  He took those to keep him from having to stop often.  The hunter filled the ice chest with drinks from the kitchen and placed the bags of food and the chest in the back floorboard of his baby.

        On the fourth day of the fourth week, Sam returned.  He noticed that the Impala was gone and panicked. Running into the house, he looked for some message from his brother, calling for the angel at the same time.

        Castiel appeared in front of him.  

        “What is wrong, Sam?”

        “Dean’s gone.”

        “This is almost the end of four weeks.  I doubt either of us would expect him to stay here.  It would be unlike him to wait this long.  Knowing how he thinks, he would have thought you were not coming back.”

        “Damn it,” Sam said in frustration, taking out his cell.

        Dean’s phone went to voice mail.

        “Dean, I’m standing on the porch of the cabin with Cas.  Where the hell are you?”

        After disconnecting the call, Sam turned towards the angel.  “Well?  What do we do now?”

        “We wait.  I do not know where he is.  The sigils on his ribs make it impossible to find him.”

        Sam opened his cell and made another call.

        “Hey, Garth? …..Yeah, this is Sam…..Have you…..What?”

        Sam listened.  “Thanks, Man.  I owe you one.”

        Sam turned to the angel, shaking his head.

        “He’s in South Dakota, cleaning up Bobby’s old place.  From what I can gather from Garth, he’s drunk most of the time.”

        “Do you need the car?”

        “No….I,” Sam never finished the sentence.  The two of them were standing in the salvage yard.  They found Dean beneath a car, cursing as he tried to loosen a bolt.  There were beer bottles everywhere.

        Sam gently kicked the bottom of one of his brother’s boots.  They heard a clanking noise as Dean’s head came up and he hit the underside of the car.

        “Son of a bitch!” 

        The older Winchester crawled out from under the car, holding his head.        He was yelling, “What the hell do you want?”

        “To come home,” was Sam’s reply.

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