The Winchester Boys and the Tremors of Doom - Chapter 8
Sam had always found fire mesmerizing. He didn’t remember the fire that had burnt down his nursery, killed their mom and put their feet firmly on the path of an unconventional life, but he knew that Dean remembered it. Watching Dean as he stared into the dying embers of the fire with wide-eyed intensity, Sam knew that, despite his earlier, post-hunt euphoria, the thoughts circling in his brother’s head now were not good ones. He reached out slowly and clapped a friendly hand on Dean’s shoulder. His brother turned toward him, his face mostly in shadow, save for the side closest to the fire, which was illuminated by an eerie orange glow.
“The others are ready to go now,” Sam said.
Dean nodded, but didn’t move.
“Gotta get Luke to the doctor,” Sam added.
Dean met his eyes then and nodded once, before turning on his heel and walking swiftly over to his quad bike. He waited until Sam was on his, and then nodded to Blake who was behind the wheel of the Jeep. Gentlemen, start your engines.
They drove in convoy; the Jeep, then Dean, then Sam, then Carl on the back hoe. When they reached the tunnel made by the Worm that had tried to attack the farm, Dean’s back stiffened noticeably. And when they reached the hole the Worm had burst out of, he didn’t so much as look at it, just rode straight past. Sam stopped, though. He pulled up to the side and looked down, just in case, but there was nothing, not even blood. Sam swallowed. The Worms were big enough to eat a man whole. He hoped for Ronnie’s sake that it had been quick.
Back at the house, the men all moved about quietly, cleaning and putting away their weapons and washing off the worst of the dirt and blood.
Luke was dazed and tearful, and Sam suspected that it was only the big dose of heavy duty painkillers he’d been given earlier that was keeping full-blown hysteria at bay. He kept mumbling about Brian getting eaten, and Ronnie getting eaten, and why did Ronnie go outside, why didn’t he let Luke go with him?
Eventually, Cahill gathered everyone together. “I’m gonna call the usual crew,” he said, “the town leaders,” he added for the benefit of the outsiders. “We’ll get everyone to meet up at LeRoy’s place in an hour. We’ll talk it through like we did with that Thunderbird mess, decide how we’re gonna handle things with the Law,” he turned to look at Blake and Noah. “You’re welcome at the meeting,” he said. “In fact, I’d like you to be there. That nest site’s on Hualapai land, so I figure the Tribal Council’s gonna want some say on this.”
Noah nodded. “Gonna have to make a phone call,” he said.
Cahill turned to look at Sam and Dean. “You’re welcome too.”
Before Sam could say anything, Dean shook his head. “Hell, no. We just gank the monsters, we don’t stick around for the clean-up,” he inclined his head to one side. “We’ll clean out that Worm nest, though. Tomorrow some time. Then head outta town.”
Cahill looked disappointed, but he nodded his understanding.
They left fifteen minutes later, Carl taking Luke to the town doctor, while Cahill, Dodger and Angel headed straight to the town meeting. Noah and Blake dropped Sam and Dean off at the Impala before following the others to the meeting.
Dean slid into the driver’s seat with a sigh. For a brief moment he sat gripping the wheel, his head bowed, and then he reached across to the glove box and pulled out his silver flask. He tipped his head back and swallowed deeply, one, two, three, four gulps, and then offered the flask to Sam. Sam shook his head.
Dean shrugged and took another drink. “You reckon there’s a bar open in town?” he asked.
“Doubt it,” Sam said.
Dean nodded. “We could drive down to Kingman. Maybe there’s something open there. We could have a few drinks, play a little pool.”
Sam sighed and translated in his head: Dean could get trashed and find someone to push into a fight.
“Lu and Kate are expecting us,” he said, allowing a hint of reproach to enter his voice. “Luke is Lu’s nephew. Carl told her we were coming. They’ll be waiting up.”
Dean sighed and took another drink. Sam held his hand out for the flask and when Dean gave it to him, he screwed the lid on and stowed it back in the glove box.
“Buzzkill,” Dean grumbled. But he started the engine.
Lu and Kate were waiting on the doorstep. The Impala was loud at the best of times; in the still, silent desert night it roared like a beast, and their hosts would’ve heard them coming from a mile away.
Dean turned off the ignition and pulled the key out, then sat staring at the steering wheel.
Sam opened his door. “C’mon,” he said. He didn’t wait to see if his brother would follow him; he knew that he would.
Lu hugged Sam at the door and then turned to Dean. Dean’s eyes were tight and his posture stiff and Lu didn’t hug him. She put a hand on his arm and told him how sorry she was; how sorry the town was to hear of the day’s loss of life, especially young Ronnie.
They were all grateful, she said, that he and his brother had been in town to help.
“Didn’t help Virgil or any of that Eric guy’s team,” Dean muttered. “Didn’t help Ronnie. And that was my call. I left him behind to keep him safe and look what happened.
Kate’s eyes filled with tears. “And we’re all shattered. But you did help. And it’s thanks to you that things weren’t worse.” She wiped at her face and then straightened up, her tone suddenly brisk and no-nonsense. “Now, you boys go and clean up properly, take a shower, change your clothes. I’ve got home-made tomato and rice soup on the hob and a loaf of fresh-baked bread cooling on the kitchen table.”
Dean’s eyes were suspiciously bright as he ducked past Sam and headed for the bathroom.
Later, their bellies full and their hearts a little lighter, Sam and Dean folded their tired, aching bodies into the one queen-sized bed. Dean clung to its far edge, his back turned to Sam, and Sam rolled his eyes. He’d shared a bed with Dean enough times over the years to know that he would wake up in the morning with his big brother wrapped around him like a limpet. For all his macho posturing, Dean was a cuddler at heart, especially when he was upset about something.
~~~
They said good-bye to Lu and Kate after breakfast the next morning and drove across town to see Lyn, to tell her that Dean was pulling the Impala out of the rescheduled Car Show, on account of the fact that they were leaving town.
Lyn didn’t look surprised. “I can’t believe we’re still holding it,” she said, “but we’ve got too many tourists here to do anything else. It’s easier to keep ‘em distracted and out of our business if we just go ahead with it. But nobody’s heart’s really in it. Virgil…” her voice broke.
Sam reached out and covered her hand with his. “I’m so sorry for your loss,” he said, “I know you two were good friends.”
Lyn smiled and pulled herself together with visible effort. “On the bright side,” she said, “all but one of the six horses that were part of the search came back. They were skittish as all get out, but Cahill got ‘em all settled into their stalls, they’re eating, and none of ‘em seem to be injured.”
“Blossom?” Dean asked. “Do you know if she made it?”
Lyn shook her head. “I don’t know. But I’m betting Cahill would like to see you before you take off, so why don’t you go and check? Cahill’s property’s just off Prospect Avenue. It’s set back a ways and can be a little hard to find. If you hit Murals Road, you know you’ve gone too far.”
She finished giving them directions and then came around the motel desk and hugged them both. “Don’t be strangers,” she said. “And if you’re ever out this way, you call into town. That fine piece of machinery is welcome to park outside my motel any time!”
~~~
Cahill seemed surprised to see them. “I’m expecting the Sherriff out soon,” he warned. “And if you’re anything like Reggie, I’m guessing you’ll want to stay under the radar.
Dean nodded and rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “Yeah. Hunters and law enforcement don’t always get along. We won’t be long, anyway, just wanted to say good-bye before we hit the road.”
Cahill held out a hand. “Thanks for your help,” he said. “Much appreciated.”
They shook and then Dean mentioned that they’d heard that five of the horses had made it back.
Cahill laughed. “Oh, now we get to the real reason for your visit. I knew those bow legs were a sign there was a bit of real cowboy in you. You were worried about your horse, weren’t you?” He grinned at Dean’s nod. “Well, Blossom made it back just fine. You wanna go and say good-bye?”
Cahill showed Dean into Blossom’s stall and then he and Sam stood outside and made small talk while Dean stroked Blossom’s muzzle and spoke to her in quiet, almost reverential tones. When he came back out Sam thought his brother seemed calmer; more settled than he’d been since they’d fought the Worms.
“You should go and say good-bye to Carl and Luke,” Cahill said as he walked them to their car. “Luke’s real cut up about Ronnie, God rest his soul.”
Dean didn’t want to go anywhere near the Massina farm, but Sam had developed a healthy respect for Carl during their time together and he wanted to say good-bye, so Dean grudgingly agreed that once they’d taken care of the Worm nest, they’d head out there.
Cahill put a hand to Dean’s arm. “Head down Murals Road,” he said, “until you get to the big U bend and then you’ll have to go off road. There’s a track, it’s not bad,” he eyed the Impala speculatively. “I think she’ll cope. Anyway, you’ll be able to park just off the track and go the rest of the way on foot.”
Dean nodded.
“Thanks,” said Sam. He took his wallet out of his back pocket and tugged out a business card. “If you ever need anything…you know, if there turn out to be more Worms, or you get some more Thunderbirds, give us a call.”
Cahill took the card. He looked at it carefully and then raised an eyebrow. “Dr Jerry Kaplan from the CDC? Do I even wanna know?”
Dean grinned and clapped Cahill on the shoulder. “Probably not. C’mon Sammy, we got us a buncha Worm eggs to deal with.”
~~~
Sam had the tourist’s map of Chloride folded on his lap and Dean could see him tracing his forefinger along it out of the corner of his eye.
“Is this the turn off to the track Cahill was talking about? Sam? Sammy?”
“Huh? Oh. No. I mean, yes, but-”
Dean swore. “Dammit, Sammy!” he squeezed the brakes.
“No, no, keep going,” Sam said. “They Murals are just up the road a bit. I kinda wanna see them before we leave.”
Dean gaped at him. “We’re on our way to clean out a monster nest and you want to stop on the way to look at Art? Really, Sammy?”
“Shut up,” Sam said mildly. “I saw a tapestry version at the gallery in town and-”
“We’re detouring cuz you liked the tapestry version? Oh, okay. After we’ve looked at the mural how about I braid your hair and then we can paint each other’s toe nails?”
Sam rolled his eyes. “If you could stow the Alpha male bullshit for five seconds, Dean, I was about to say that if I’m not remembering wrongly, the mural, which is called ‘The Journey’ by the way, and has one panel sub-titled ‘Premonition Scene’, has a giant worm running all the way through it.”
Dean’s slack-jawed expression was suitably satisfying.
~~~
Poor Baby. All this sand and grit really wasn’t doing her any favors. Once they’d finished up in Vegas, Dean was going to have to spend some serious time giving her suspension a good going over. He glanced at Sam, who was sulking beside him.
“Oh come on, man,” he said. “It was clearly a snake.”
“Could’ve been a worm,” Sam said stubbornly.
Dean shook his head. “It had fangs, dude,”
“The Limp Bizkits had fangs! A whole mouthful of them!”
“Right. The…creature in the mural only had two. Snake fangs, man.”
Sam folded his arms across his chest. “Could’ve-”
Dean smacked the steering wheel. “Oh come on! You’re the Geek Boy! It was a snake eating its own tail! An Ouroboros, man. A symbol of self-reflexivity or cyclicality, of something constantly re-creating itself, the eternal return. Big in Norse mythology. You said that Purcell dude was taking a break from his Fine Arts degree when he painted it? He was probably going through some arty College Boy existential crisis at the time. It’s a snake, man, not a worm.” He glanced sideways at Sam who was staring at him with an irritating little smile. “What?” he grumbled.
Sam’s smile widened. “You wanna braid my hair now?”
“Screw you,” Dean fired back. Beside him, Sam threw his head back and laughed and Dean realized once again just how much he’d missed this simple sparring when Sam had been away at college.
~~~
Cleaning out the Worm nest was quick and easy. The eggs were obvious, two giant squishy tear-drop shaped cocoons and Dean wasted no time in pouring gasoline over the whole area and setting it alight. They stayed until the fire died down and then smothered the embers with sand.
As they walked back to the car, shoulder to shoulder, Sam leaned into Dean and whispered, “I still say it could’ve been a worm.”
~~~
Luke was sitting on the sofa with his feet up, sipping Morning Dew through a straw and resting his newly plastered arm on a pile of cushions. The television was on, Dr Sexy MD, if Dean wasn’t mistaken, but the kid didn’t seem to be paying much attention to it.
“Visitors, Luke,” Carl said.
Luke didn’t look up.
“How are you feeling?” Sam asked.
Luke shrugged.
“Alright,” Dean clapped his hands together, “well it’s been,” he cleared his throat, “so anyway, we’re heading out now. You take care.”
Luke snorted. “Yeah. You get to just take off. I gotta live here. I gotta walk past where Brian and Ronnie,” his eyes welled with tears and he rubbed at them angrily, “every single day. So good for you. Go.”
“Luke,” Sam sat down next to him on the sofa and looked at him with compassionate, puppy dog eyes. “I know it seems-”
Dean interrupted. “He’s right Sammy. We get to gank the monster and ride off into the sunset; people like Cahill and Carl and Luke here, they have to stick around and mop up the blood. That ain’t easy,” he fixed his gaze on Luke. “What happened to Ronnie, that’s on me. I left him here, that was my call, and for that I’m sorry. So what can I say? Congratulations kid, you’re one of the lucky few who gets to learn what’s really out there and not get dead in the process. And it sucks. Believe me. But there’s no use asking ‘why me’ because there’s no ‘greater plan’, nobody up there cares, it’s just kill or be killed.”
Luke looked from Dean to Sam, an uncertain frown on his face. “It’s okay to be angry,” Sam said. “Dean and me? I don’t think we ever really stop.”
“But once in a while,” Dean added, “we get to slay a monster. That kinda helps.”
Luke nodded. He looked up at Dean, his eyes troubled. “Ronnie made his own choice. He was brave; a real hero. What happened to him, that’s not on you. But he saved my life. He did that.”
Luke’s eyes filled with tears again.
“You’re right,” Dean said. “He is a hero. So how about we go over to the Worm hole and pay our respects to him before we hit the road?”
Carl came with them and the four of them stood together looking down into the pit. Carl took his Stetson off and held it over his heart. “Yesterday we lost a good friend; a good man. A hero. A-”
“Oh my God,” Luke was staring off over his father’s shoulder.
Dean followed his gaze and saw Ronnie, looking dazed and bewildered, staggering toward them.
“Is he a ghost?” Sam asked lowly.
“Did ya get it?” Ronnie asked, coming to a halt next to them and peering down into the Worm hole.
Dean poked at his arm. He was solid.
“Ronnie! You scared the Hell outta us, son!” Carl threw his arms around the boy and squeezed him tightly.
Sam and Dean exchanged a look. If they were angry enough, spirits could hold onto a corporeal form.
“Do you see a light?” Dean asked the boy.
Ronnie shook his head. “Except for the ten billion sparks flashing behind my eyes, no. Goddamn sumbitch Worm came up outta that hole, swung its body like a giant baseball bat and knocked me into the outfield. I just woke up, barfed, and then saw you all standing over here. My head hurts like Hell. What did I miss?”
“I think he’s alive, Dean,” said Sam.
Carl raised an eyebrow. “What gave it away? Was it the walking and talking?”
Dean laughed. “In our world? That ain’t always proof of life.” He wrapped his arms around Ronnie and hugged him hard. “I thought I’d lost you, boy,” he said in his best Scottish brogue.
Ronnie laughed. “I thought you had too, Sir.”
Dean pulled away from the hug and beamed. “Alrighty, let’s get you home.”
Ronnie nodded. “I don’t think I need to drink from the Holy Grail,” he said, “but I reckon I could do with some Tylenol; my head hurts like a bitch.”
Carl wrapped an arm around Ronnie’s shoulders and guided him toward the farmhouse, telling him that they’d call up his mom straight away and let her know that he was alive and well.
Dean turned to Sam, his smile bright and unrestrained and his eyes dancing. “You reckon if we timed it right, we could drive off into the sunset?” he asked.
Master Post / Next
“The others are ready to go now,” Sam said.
Dean nodded, but didn’t move.
“Gotta get Luke to the doctor,” Sam added.
Dean met his eyes then and nodded once, before turning on his heel and walking swiftly over to his quad bike. He waited until Sam was on his, and then nodded to Blake who was behind the wheel of the Jeep. Gentlemen, start your engines.
They drove in convoy; the Jeep, then Dean, then Sam, then Carl on the back hoe. When they reached the tunnel made by the Worm that had tried to attack the farm, Dean’s back stiffened noticeably. And when they reached the hole the Worm had burst out of, he didn’t so much as look at it, just rode straight past. Sam stopped, though. He pulled up to the side and looked down, just in case, but there was nothing, not even blood. Sam swallowed. The Worms were big enough to eat a man whole. He hoped for Ronnie’s sake that it had been quick.
Back at the house, the men all moved about quietly, cleaning and putting away their weapons and washing off the worst of the dirt and blood.
Luke was dazed and tearful, and Sam suspected that it was only the big dose of heavy duty painkillers he’d been given earlier that was keeping full-blown hysteria at bay. He kept mumbling about Brian getting eaten, and Ronnie getting eaten, and why did Ronnie go outside, why didn’t he let Luke go with him?
Eventually, Cahill gathered everyone together. “I’m gonna call the usual crew,” he said, “the town leaders,” he added for the benefit of the outsiders. “We’ll get everyone to meet up at LeRoy’s place in an hour. We’ll talk it through like we did with that Thunderbird mess, decide how we’re gonna handle things with the Law,” he turned to look at Blake and Noah. “You’re welcome at the meeting,” he said. “In fact, I’d like you to be there. That nest site’s on Hualapai land, so I figure the Tribal Council’s gonna want some say on this.”
Noah nodded. “Gonna have to make a phone call,” he said.
Cahill turned to look at Sam and Dean. “You’re welcome too.”
Before Sam could say anything, Dean shook his head. “Hell, no. We just gank the monsters, we don’t stick around for the clean-up,” he inclined his head to one side. “We’ll clean out that Worm nest, though. Tomorrow some time. Then head outta town.”
Cahill looked disappointed, but he nodded his understanding.
They left fifteen minutes later, Carl taking Luke to the town doctor, while Cahill, Dodger and Angel headed straight to the town meeting. Noah and Blake dropped Sam and Dean off at the Impala before following the others to the meeting.
Dean slid into the driver’s seat with a sigh. For a brief moment he sat gripping the wheel, his head bowed, and then he reached across to the glove box and pulled out his silver flask. He tipped his head back and swallowed deeply, one, two, three, four gulps, and then offered the flask to Sam. Sam shook his head.
Dean shrugged and took another drink. “You reckon there’s a bar open in town?” he asked.
“Doubt it,” Sam said.
Dean nodded. “We could drive down to Kingman. Maybe there’s something open there. We could have a few drinks, play a little pool.”
Sam sighed and translated in his head: Dean could get trashed and find someone to push into a fight.
“Lu and Kate are expecting us,” he said, allowing a hint of reproach to enter his voice. “Luke is Lu’s nephew. Carl told her we were coming. They’ll be waiting up.”
Dean sighed and took another drink. Sam held his hand out for the flask and when Dean gave it to him, he screwed the lid on and stowed it back in the glove box.
“Buzzkill,” Dean grumbled. But he started the engine.
Lu and Kate were waiting on the doorstep. The Impala was loud at the best of times; in the still, silent desert night it roared like a beast, and their hosts would’ve heard them coming from a mile away.
Dean turned off the ignition and pulled the key out, then sat staring at the steering wheel.
Sam opened his door. “C’mon,” he said. He didn’t wait to see if his brother would follow him; he knew that he would.
Lu hugged Sam at the door and then turned to Dean. Dean’s eyes were tight and his posture stiff and Lu didn’t hug him. She put a hand on his arm and told him how sorry she was; how sorry the town was to hear of the day’s loss of life, especially young Ronnie.
They were all grateful, she said, that he and his brother had been in town to help.
“Didn’t help Virgil or any of that Eric guy’s team,” Dean muttered. “Didn’t help Ronnie. And that was my call. I left him behind to keep him safe and look what happened.
Kate’s eyes filled with tears. “And we’re all shattered. But you did help. And it’s thanks to you that things weren’t worse.” She wiped at her face and then straightened up, her tone suddenly brisk and no-nonsense. “Now, you boys go and clean up properly, take a shower, change your clothes. I’ve got home-made tomato and rice soup on the hob and a loaf of fresh-baked bread cooling on the kitchen table.”
Dean’s eyes were suspiciously bright as he ducked past Sam and headed for the bathroom.
Later, their bellies full and their hearts a little lighter, Sam and Dean folded their tired, aching bodies into the one queen-sized bed. Dean clung to its far edge, his back turned to Sam, and Sam rolled his eyes. He’d shared a bed with Dean enough times over the years to know that he would wake up in the morning with his big brother wrapped around him like a limpet. For all his macho posturing, Dean was a cuddler at heart, especially when he was upset about something.
~~~
They said good-bye to Lu and Kate after breakfast the next morning and drove across town to see Lyn, to tell her that Dean was pulling the Impala out of the rescheduled Car Show, on account of the fact that they were leaving town.
Lyn didn’t look surprised. “I can’t believe we’re still holding it,” she said, “but we’ve got too many tourists here to do anything else. It’s easier to keep ‘em distracted and out of our business if we just go ahead with it. But nobody’s heart’s really in it. Virgil…” her voice broke.
Sam reached out and covered her hand with his. “I’m so sorry for your loss,” he said, “I know you two were good friends.”
Lyn smiled and pulled herself together with visible effort. “On the bright side,” she said, “all but one of the six horses that were part of the search came back. They were skittish as all get out, but Cahill got ‘em all settled into their stalls, they’re eating, and none of ‘em seem to be injured.”
“Blossom?” Dean asked. “Do you know if she made it?”
Lyn shook her head. “I don’t know. But I’m betting Cahill would like to see you before you take off, so why don’t you go and check? Cahill’s property’s just off Prospect Avenue. It’s set back a ways and can be a little hard to find. If you hit Murals Road, you know you’ve gone too far.”
She finished giving them directions and then came around the motel desk and hugged them both. “Don’t be strangers,” she said. “And if you’re ever out this way, you call into town. That fine piece of machinery is welcome to park outside my motel any time!”
~~~
Cahill seemed surprised to see them. “I’m expecting the Sherriff out soon,” he warned. “And if you’re anything like Reggie, I’m guessing you’ll want to stay under the radar.
Dean nodded and rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “Yeah. Hunters and law enforcement don’t always get along. We won’t be long, anyway, just wanted to say good-bye before we hit the road.”
Cahill held out a hand. “Thanks for your help,” he said. “Much appreciated.”
They shook and then Dean mentioned that they’d heard that five of the horses had made it back.
Cahill laughed. “Oh, now we get to the real reason for your visit. I knew those bow legs were a sign there was a bit of real cowboy in you. You were worried about your horse, weren’t you?” He grinned at Dean’s nod. “Well, Blossom made it back just fine. You wanna go and say good-bye?”
Cahill showed Dean into Blossom’s stall and then he and Sam stood outside and made small talk while Dean stroked Blossom’s muzzle and spoke to her in quiet, almost reverential tones. When he came back out Sam thought his brother seemed calmer; more settled than he’d been since they’d fought the Worms.
“You should go and say good-bye to Carl and Luke,” Cahill said as he walked them to their car. “Luke’s real cut up about Ronnie, God rest his soul.”
Dean didn’t want to go anywhere near the Massina farm, but Sam had developed a healthy respect for Carl during their time together and he wanted to say good-bye, so Dean grudgingly agreed that once they’d taken care of the Worm nest, they’d head out there.
Cahill put a hand to Dean’s arm. “Head down Murals Road,” he said, “until you get to the big U bend and then you’ll have to go off road. There’s a track, it’s not bad,” he eyed the Impala speculatively. “I think she’ll cope. Anyway, you’ll be able to park just off the track and go the rest of the way on foot.”
Dean nodded.
“Thanks,” said Sam. He took his wallet out of his back pocket and tugged out a business card. “If you ever need anything…you know, if there turn out to be more Worms, or you get some more Thunderbirds, give us a call.”
Cahill took the card. He looked at it carefully and then raised an eyebrow. “Dr Jerry Kaplan from the CDC? Do I even wanna know?”
Dean grinned and clapped Cahill on the shoulder. “Probably not. C’mon Sammy, we got us a buncha Worm eggs to deal with.”
~~~
Sam had the tourist’s map of Chloride folded on his lap and Dean could see him tracing his forefinger along it out of the corner of his eye.
“Is this the turn off to the track Cahill was talking about? Sam? Sammy?”
“Huh? Oh. No. I mean, yes, but-”
Dean swore. “Dammit, Sammy!” he squeezed the brakes.
“No, no, keep going,” Sam said. “They Murals are just up the road a bit. I kinda wanna see them before we leave.”
Dean gaped at him. “We’re on our way to clean out a monster nest and you want to stop on the way to look at Art? Really, Sammy?”
“Shut up,” Sam said mildly. “I saw a tapestry version at the gallery in town and-”
“We’re detouring cuz you liked the tapestry version? Oh, okay. After we’ve looked at the mural how about I braid your hair and then we can paint each other’s toe nails?”
Sam rolled his eyes. “If you could stow the Alpha male bullshit for five seconds, Dean, I was about to say that if I’m not remembering wrongly, the mural, which is called ‘The Journey’ by the way, and has one panel sub-titled ‘Premonition Scene’, has a giant worm running all the way through it.”
Dean’s slack-jawed expression was suitably satisfying.
~~~
Poor Baby. All this sand and grit really wasn’t doing her any favors. Once they’d finished up in Vegas, Dean was going to have to spend some serious time giving her suspension a good going over. He glanced at Sam, who was sulking beside him.
“Oh come on, man,” he said. “It was clearly a snake.”
“Could’ve been a worm,” Sam said stubbornly.
Dean shook his head. “It had fangs, dude,”
“The Limp Bizkits had fangs! A whole mouthful of them!”
“Right. The…creature in the mural only had two. Snake fangs, man.”
Sam folded his arms across his chest. “Could’ve-”
Dean smacked the steering wheel. “Oh come on! You’re the Geek Boy! It was a snake eating its own tail! An Ouroboros, man. A symbol of self-reflexivity or cyclicality, of something constantly re-creating itself, the eternal return. Big in Norse mythology. You said that Purcell dude was taking a break from his Fine Arts degree when he painted it? He was probably going through some arty College Boy existential crisis at the time. It’s a snake, man, not a worm.” He glanced sideways at Sam who was staring at him with an irritating little smile. “What?” he grumbled.
Sam’s smile widened. “You wanna braid my hair now?”
“Screw you,” Dean fired back. Beside him, Sam threw his head back and laughed and Dean realized once again just how much he’d missed this simple sparring when Sam had been away at college.
~~~
Cleaning out the Worm nest was quick and easy. The eggs were obvious, two giant squishy tear-drop shaped cocoons and Dean wasted no time in pouring gasoline over the whole area and setting it alight. They stayed until the fire died down and then smothered the embers with sand.
As they walked back to the car, shoulder to shoulder, Sam leaned into Dean and whispered, “I still say it could’ve been a worm.”
~~~
Luke was sitting on the sofa with his feet up, sipping Morning Dew through a straw and resting his newly plastered arm on a pile of cushions. The television was on, Dr Sexy MD, if Dean wasn’t mistaken, but the kid didn’t seem to be paying much attention to it.
“Visitors, Luke,” Carl said.
Luke didn’t look up.
“How are you feeling?” Sam asked.
Luke shrugged.
“Alright,” Dean clapped his hands together, “well it’s been,” he cleared his throat, “so anyway, we’re heading out now. You take care.”
Luke snorted. “Yeah. You get to just take off. I gotta live here. I gotta walk past where Brian and Ronnie,” his eyes welled with tears and he rubbed at them angrily, “every single day. So good for you. Go.”
“Luke,” Sam sat down next to him on the sofa and looked at him with compassionate, puppy dog eyes. “I know it seems-”
Dean interrupted. “He’s right Sammy. We get to gank the monster and ride off into the sunset; people like Cahill and Carl and Luke here, they have to stick around and mop up the blood. That ain’t easy,” he fixed his gaze on Luke. “What happened to Ronnie, that’s on me. I left him here, that was my call, and for that I’m sorry. So what can I say? Congratulations kid, you’re one of the lucky few who gets to learn what’s really out there and not get dead in the process. And it sucks. Believe me. But there’s no use asking ‘why me’ because there’s no ‘greater plan’, nobody up there cares, it’s just kill or be killed.”
Luke looked from Dean to Sam, an uncertain frown on his face. “It’s okay to be angry,” Sam said. “Dean and me? I don’t think we ever really stop.”
“But once in a while,” Dean added, “we get to slay a monster. That kinda helps.”
Luke nodded. He looked up at Dean, his eyes troubled. “Ronnie made his own choice. He was brave; a real hero. What happened to him, that’s not on you. But he saved my life. He did that.”
Luke’s eyes filled with tears again.
“You’re right,” Dean said. “He is a hero. So how about we go over to the Worm hole and pay our respects to him before we hit the road?”
Carl came with them and the four of them stood together looking down into the pit. Carl took his Stetson off and held it over his heart. “Yesterday we lost a good friend; a good man. A hero. A-”
“Oh my God,” Luke was staring off over his father’s shoulder.
Dean followed his gaze and saw Ronnie, looking dazed and bewildered, staggering toward them.
“Is he a ghost?” Sam asked lowly.
“Did ya get it?” Ronnie asked, coming to a halt next to them and peering down into the Worm hole.
Dean poked at his arm. He was solid.
“Ronnie! You scared the Hell outta us, son!” Carl threw his arms around the boy and squeezed him tightly.
Sam and Dean exchanged a look. If they were angry enough, spirits could hold onto a corporeal form.
“Do you see a light?” Dean asked the boy.
Ronnie shook his head. “Except for the ten billion sparks flashing behind my eyes, no. Goddamn sumbitch Worm came up outta that hole, swung its body like a giant baseball bat and knocked me into the outfield. I just woke up, barfed, and then saw you all standing over here. My head hurts like Hell. What did I miss?”
“I think he’s alive, Dean,” said Sam.
Carl raised an eyebrow. “What gave it away? Was it the walking and talking?”
Dean laughed. “In our world? That ain’t always proof of life.” He wrapped his arms around Ronnie and hugged him hard. “I thought I’d lost you, boy,” he said in his best Scottish brogue.
Ronnie laughed. “I thought you had too, Sir.”
Dean pulled away from the hug and beamed. “Alrighty, let’s get you home.”
Ronnie nodded. “I don’t think I need to drink from the Holy Grail,” he said, “but I reckon I could do with some Tylenol; my head hurts like a bitch.”
Carl wrapped an arm around Ronnie’s shoulders and guided him toward the farmhouse, telling him that they’d call up his mom straight away and let her know that he was alive and well.
Dean turned to Sam, his smile bright and unrestrained and his eyes dancing. “You reckon if we timed it right, we could drive off into the sunset?” he asked.
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