Long Train Running (2/2)
“I think she’s a demon,” Dean whispered while they were left in the kitchen for a few minutes.
“What?”
He nodded with serious eyes. “Demon.”
“Dean, you did the holy water and you said nothing happened.”
“Yeah, I don’t know. But, Dude, all demons are bitchy.”
Sam’s mouth flipped from a smile to basically hiding a smile. “I don’t know. She’s nice enough to me.”
Dean made a mocking face. “Yeah, because you’re the camp counselor. ‘Tell us what’s wrong. Where did the creepy man touch you?’”
Sam pushed at his shoulder with an annoyed look as Andie came back. He quickly withdrew his hand and turned to her. “Find anything?”
She tossed down a few editions of the Chicago Sun Times from that week. “There’s not much, but there are mentions of minor accidents.”
Dean looked around her kitchen, taking in the bare countertops and the random objects on her fridge. He narrowed his eyes and tacked a finger a picture. “Andie? Who’s this?”
She glanced over and gave him an icy glare. “What?”
He pushed the picture in front of Sam and pointed at one of three figures surrounding a young Andie. “Oh my God,” Sam murmured.
“What?”
“David Fletcher.”
Andie sat up to see the photo again. “No, that’s Dan Lewis. I worked with him back in high school.”
“No,” Dean smirked, kind of glad that he was right about her being involved somehow. Okay, really glad he was right. “That, there, is David.”
Sam moved closer. “Andie, where did you two work?”
“At the,” and she paused, a little flustered and confused by it all. “The movie theater. Out on 55, near Lemont.”
“When?”
“Years ago. Ten? Twelve?”
Dean looked at the photo again, flicking a finger at the face. “David Fletcher.” He looked over at her, smug as hell. “You knew him all along. Huh. I was right.”
Sam gave a look, pursing his lips together, and then went back to Andie. “You were friends?”
Running a hand through her hair, “Yeah, I guess. I mean, we knew each other from work, we didn’t necessarily hang out.”
“But you have his picture on your fridge?”
She pointed at another face. “He just found it and mailed it to me. We were all buddies at work.” Andie shrugged. “I kind of liked the picture. It reminded me nicer days.”
Dean grabbed the photo and put it in his pocket despite the distressed look on her face. He then tapped a finger at the calendar. “Last Tuesday.”
Sam and Andie looked to him. “Yeah?”
“Dinner with John?”
She caught Sam’s interested look and had to smile slowly, though still uneasy with all the photo business. “My brother.” Then to Dean, “We had dinner downtown.”
“Did you drive?”
Andie was armed with anger, just because there was something in Dean that called for it, but she was kind of confused so she just watched him.
“Or take the train?”
Her eyes widened and her heart sped a bit. She looked between them wondering if they still thought she had something to do with all the accidents. Finally she said, “No, I got a ride back here with my brother and drove from the station.”
Sam leaned forward, all kinds of interested. “So, you were at the station when it happened?”
“The derailment?”
“Yeah.”
She sighed and fought the answer, but knew she had to be honest. “Yeah.”
“What about the girl who got hit on Friday?” Carefully, she nodded.
Dean came closer. “So you’re seeing these accidents before and then you’re there when it happens?”
“I wasn’t like there,” she defended. “I was in the area, I heard it, but I wasn’t right there or anything.”
“Not to mention knowing Fletcher” he added quickly with a little smack at Sam’s shoulder. “What happens next?”
Andie was so caught up in the creep factor of the entire situation, she couldn’t bear to be shitty with him. “This morning, there’s a guy on the tracks. And Thursday is the derailment.” She stopped short, not wanting to remember what she saw.
He leaned on palms, pressed into the table. “And what?”
“I saw you guys on the train.”
“The one that derails?” Sam asked.
She nodded in return.
“I don’t think you should go into work today,” Sam said. She glanced at the clock. It was nearly six, which meant it was close to her shower.
Dean snorted. “I don’t think you should go this week.”
“I can’t not go.”
Sam leaned closer as Dean stood back up. “Andie, you’re seeing this all before it happens, and then these accidents are happening when you’re there. You’re too closely tied to it all.”
“Not to mention Fletcher,” Dean added.
“Okay,” she harped at him. “Can you stop saying that?”
“Can you look for him?” Sam asked.
She shook her head, visibly bothered. “I don’t even know him.”
Dean pulled the picture out again, pointing at the face. “Can you find him?”
*
Andie spent a better part of the next 30 minutes holding the picture and closing her eyes, staring at the picture, and altogether just chucking the thing from her thoughts. She finally tossed it on the couch and marched out of the room without a word, Sam and Dean watching her.
She wasn’t getting anything new, but just kept seeing the 8:10 train stutter its way from Lisle to Downers Grove, finally stopping at Belmont. The boarding passengers discovering blood along the fourth and fifth cars. The level of detail increasing as she saw particular faces and heard normally ambient noises (to her previous visions, at least), like the conductors on their walkie talkies and each little conversation surrounding the car. As she replayed the vision, she saw the guy who was hit by the train, ashy blond hair, polo shirt and khakis, and messenger bag across his back. Looked like a preppy college kid. She could watch him from behind as he walked right across the tracks and literally jump his way under the moving train, split up between the middle-half of the train passing by.
Unsure if it was the detail, or just how hard she was trying to see it all - it was likely watching a guy obliterated by the mode of transportation she rode daily - but she begged the guys to leave her be so she could rest. With an hour until the fated train, they headed to the train station.
*
She quickly marched down the driveway, coming to a stop once she saw her car. Sam was sitting on the trunk, facing the street. When she huffed, he turned around and gave a guilty smile. “What the hell?”
He stood up and rounded the car. “Dean’s at the station.”
“And you got babysitting duty?”
Sam stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets. “Where are you going?”
“Anywhere not here. I just keep seeing everything.”
“What everything?”
“The guy today, the accident tomorrow.” She sighed and finally revealed, “I saw Dan.”
“Dan?”
“Yeah, the Not-David Fletcher guy.”
Sam leaned closer, entirely too concerned. “You see him doing what?”
“He’s by the train when the accident happens.”
Without another word, Sam called Dean and went to the passenger side door. “C’mon. We have to go.”
*
They were cutting it close, but Sam and Andie arrived at the Lisle stop just as the express pulled into the station for the five-minute wait it always took at the start of its route. “I don’t know, guys.”
“What?”
“It happens between the stops, I don’t think we should get on the train.”
“You got any better ideas?” Dean asked.
Andie looked to them both then eastbound down the tracks. She looked at them again with raised eyebrows and started jogging down the platform, hopping off and onto the gravel beside the tracks.
The guys followed warily, Dean calling out first. “You’d let us know if it’s really us who die, right?”
“That’s tomorrow,” she smarted in return.
As Andie kept going, picking up speed and opening the gap between them, he muttered. “I really kind of hate her.” Sam smiled and ran faster.
As the tracks wound northward, she slowed her gait until finally stopping with the guys pulling up behind her. They watched a man, average height and build, blonde hair, standing right in the middle track, staring at them. Polo shirt, khakis, messenger bag, and entirely too familiar. Andie took a few slow steps until Sam grabbed her arm to stop. He and Dean rushed in front of her, drawing guns and aiming at the man.
They all heard the train coming as the man called out “Andie?”
“Dan?” she asked carefully. She was most obviously a little scared, but a tiny bit curious, too.
He laughed. “No, not quite.”
Seconds later, he jumped at the train. The guys flinched and Andie shrieked, covering her mouth as her other hand grabbed the back of Sam’s jacket. The quick moments while the train continued on felt like a full day as they stared at the tracks where the wheels continued rolling, until the train was gone. And then there was nothing.
All three jogged closer, carefully crossing the area and standing to the southside, closest to the track he had been on when the train flew by. Sam looked back at Andie then to Dean. “There’s no blood.”
Dean gave a short laugh, but went on to berate her. “Yeah, sure, you don’t know this guy.”
“I don’t!”
He crushed her space, getting nasty. “Well, he knew you. Knew your name. Looked like him, didn’t it?”
She ignored him and instead freaked out on her own. “There’s no blood! I saw blood! There was blood on the train when it gets to Belmont.”
Sam nudged Dean from her and watched her breath heavily, eventually slowing and calming down. He rested his palms at her shoulders, grabbing her attention and asking her to calm down. “What happens next?”
“I don’t know!”
Dean laughed. “Well, you better check your little Magic Eight Ball.”
“Dean” Sam reprimanded while Andie cursed, “Fuck you!”
He laughed again and started walking west, heading back to the Lisle stop. Sam kept in step with Andie, following. After a deep breath to calm down a bit, Dean turned to Andie. “What do you know about Fletcher?”
“Dan,” she corrected.
Another quick laugh. “Okay, you know what? Whenever I say Fletcher you can pretend I say Dan, yeah?”
Andie muttered “Jackass.”
“Bitch.”
She punched at his back, making him stumble a step or two. “Alright, guys!” and Sam stepped between them and spoke to her. “What happened when he died?”
“I didn’t know he died. We moved and I stopped talking to those guys.”
“But you got that picture?” Dean asked.
“Yeah. Josh found me on Facebook and we started talking again.”
“Facebook?”
“Yeah,” she sighed.
He shrugged. “What’s Facebook?”
Andie nearly yelled. “Are you serious?”
Sam stepped in again, giving Dean a face and trying to keep her calm. It was amazing what Dean didn’t know about technology. “Okay, so he sent the picture and then what?”
“Then,” she started and stopped, trying to think of anything relevant to say.
“Was this before or after the train stuff started?”
“Before?” she shrugged. “I started talking to Josh a few months ago.”
“Sam,” Dean said, which basically meant that they had to find more information, or you know, Sam would.
“Yeah.” To Andie, he asked, “Can we do some research at your house? Maybe check out Josh?”
“Yeah, whatever,” she sighed. “But I haven’t talked to Josh in a few weeks. He’s been MIA.”
*
After the excitement of the morning, Andie laid down for a real nap while Sam used his own laptop and Dean used to Andie’s to check her Facebook page and other emails she had received from Josh.
“What’s his last name?” Sam asked.
Dean continued scrolling through the profiles, smirking at pictures of girls wearing low-cut tops and little for a bottom, drinking in bars, or on the beach in tiny bikinis. “Hello,” he murmured.
“Dean.”
His lips pursed into a near kiss and he smirked. Hard. “Sam, this Facebook is a wonderful place. And it’s free.”
“Dean.”
“Yeah,” he replied a bit more coherent and looking to Sam.
“Last name?”
Dean clicked his way back to the initial profile. “Uh, Baker. Joshua Frederick Baker.”
“Frederick?”
“Yeah, I guess Loyola is the Ivy League of the Midwest. Spoiled little bitch.”
“Check this out,” and Sam turned the laptop to Dean. “Josh F. Baker. Killed in a train accident.” Dean went from reading the screen to Sam’s interested, excited face. “Last Tuesday.”
“Last Tuesday with Fletcher, last Tuesday?”
“I’m pretty sure.”
“Huh.”
“Yeah.” Sam pulled the computer back and tossed antsy fingers near Dean. “Lemme see that pic again.” After Dean passed it, he looked between the faces and the screen. “Here,” he started excitedly before reading the screen. “’Baker’s brother John recently passed following injuries sustained in a gate incident in Downers Grove.’ Two weeks ago. Dean, I think this was the first incident.”
Dean leaned forward to further their discussion. “So, two weeks ago, he gets John Baker?” Sam points to the third, previously unidentified face in the picture. “Then last week it’s Josh?”
“Yeah.”
“But, why are there all the other accidents?”
Sam stared at the picture for a few more seconds, taking in all four faces. His voice picked up, sounding worried. “You think Andie’s next?”
Dean made a face then grabbed the picture again. “Maybe he’s been trying to get her, but he can’t?”
Sam began moving his hands at the table, still excited at the idea they were inching closer to figuring it all out, but mostly hiding his fear that she would be next. He had to convince himself she wasn’t. “But nothing major happens. She’s been on the train twice when we saw problems, and that time at Union, but nothing big happened.”
Flicking the picture against his hand, Dean thought, but couldn’t figure out anything that would make sense. Finally, he looked at Sam. “You think something happened with her and Fletcher?”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. She burned his ego one too many times?” Sam gave a hard look. “Maybe he had a thing for her but she didn’t care? She looks cozier with the Baker Boys than with him.” Sam grabbed the photo again and stared at it. Dean rose, grabbing his jacket. “You ask her about them, I’ll talk to the Fletchers.”
*
Andie sat up fast, feeling the warmth behind her eyes, signaling a new vision. She covered her eyes, breathing slowly but jumped when she sensed someone in the room and caught Sam in the chair in the corner.
“Jesus, Sam!” she harped at him as he sat forward, looking guilty.
He carefully put the laptop on the ground. “I’m sorry. It’s just …”
“It’s just that you scared the shit out of me.” She continued with heavy breathing, covering her eyes and clenching them tight. She was not going to cry, not going to cry, not going to cry.
He came closer, edging himself to the corner of the bed. “You okay? Did you see something?”
Andie chuckled, but he heard emotion in it. “You just really freaked me out.” She wiped a few tears from her eyes. “Sometimes you get shocked and it just gets you before you can stop? Ya know?”
He smiled carefully. “Yeah.”
She slid up against the headboard and rubbed her eyes, now from the sleep hanging over her and not so much the tears. “So what’s up? Did you guys find anything?”
“Yeah, we did.”
Her hands opened so she could watch him. The sadness in his eyes was worrying her. “What? Did I sleep so long half the world died?”
“No. Andie, I’m really sorry to be the one ... But … Josh died last week.”
With wide eyes, she took the deepest breath possible and mouthed “oh.”
“And,” he continued even more carefully than before. “And John the week before.”
“His brother?”
“Yeah.”
“How?”
Sam looked down, not sure how she would respond. “They were part of the train accidents.” Her eyebrows shot up, but she stayed quiet. “Dean’s at David’s house right now to find more.”
Her eyes felt warm, but she knew it was from the impending tears and not any random visions. She tried to fight the emotion and just focused on him. “And you’re babysitting again.”
His comforting look slipped a fraction. “Yeah.”
“Do you know why it was Josh and John?”
With a hopeful glance, “No, we thought you might know.”
Andie looked to her knees, trying to remember anything out of place in her past, but nothing came. “I don’t know. Man, that was so long ago, ya know?”
“Were you involved with any of them?”
“The Bakers?”
“Yeah. Or David?”
“No, not at all.” She shrugged just so. “But, I mean, everyone in the free world loved Josh. He was the typical captain of the team, total sweetheart to everyone kind of guy.”
“But all four of you were friends?”
Another shrug. “I guess. Dan and I worked concessions together, sometimes John was there, too. Josh was doing cleanup but when it was slow we’d all talk.” After some time, she asked carefully, “Do you think I’m in this, too? Like he’s going after people from the theater?”
Sam fought with telling her the truth and guarding her from it. On one hand, he wanted her to know the possibilities of danger, but he had seen her freak out enough in the last 24 hours, he didn’t want to contribute more to it. He kind of liked being the one she talked to, as opposed to the one she could outrun at the drop of a dime or call Jackass. And if he was being honest with himself, he kind of liked her. Even if she was horribly mean to Dean. Actually, he thought that was one of her better qualities. Yeah, he liked her. “We’ll know more once Dean gets back.”
She nodded and they were quiet for a bit. “You said,” she began softly. “Earlier, you said you could see things?” He nodded. “Do you see stuff like this? Cases and the monsters and stuff?”
“I saw some stuff. Not anything now.”
“Why not?”
He was uneasy with this topic, but she was genuinely interested that he wanted to answer without giving away the horrid details of the years he’d spent hunting with Dean. He was sure she wouldn’t understand, or at the very least would be horrified with the entire profession. A shrug was his response.
“I mean, did you just stop doing it? Did it go away?”
“It sort of stopped on its own.”
“How?”
Fiddling with his hands, he looked away from her, thinking of the night his father stepped out of hell and restrained the Yellow Eyed Demon so they could shoot it and end its entire existence. And how he hadn’t had seen anything since then. Sometimes he forgot about those moments, so caught up in the mission of staying alive each day. “I don’t know. It just did.”
“Man,” she sighed. “I’d kind of love for this to stop.”
“It just started with the trains, right?” If she was tangled in with Fletcher and the Bakers, he supposed her visions were only tied to this.
Slowly, Andie shook her head, giving a sad smile. “I’d never seen something this bad before, but I’ve been seeing things for years.”
Sam fought the nerve that wanted to ask if there was a house fire when she was a baby, but he knew he’d seen photos of her with people who could be parents. He tried to cheer up the conversation. “Yeah, but it can’t all be bad, right?”
Another sad smile and she nodded. “It’s mostly all bad.” Her face brightened a little. “I saw one good thing. I saw my niece graduate college. That was a good time. She was precious.”
He smiled a little at her happiness. “I thought you couldn’t control it?”
“I can’t. But one day I was worried about her and just sort of wished that things would be really great for her in the future. Next day, I saw it.”
Unconsciously, Sam inched closer. “Have you seen anything about me and Dean?”
Andie’s lips parted without a word.
He frowned. “I just was curious.”
“I did.”
His head shot up with interest. “What was it?”
She struggled to answer, not sure how much she really wanted to tell him. “You’re fighting.”
“Dean and I?”
“Yeah. Some kind of war?”
His mind flashed to impending good vs. evil bout that Zachariah had told Dean about. The one he and Dean had been preparing for since last year. He was wholly amazed that something like this had dropped into their laps - someone who could tell them the ending. “What happens?”
“I,” she started, but fought to finish the sentence.
“Who’re we fighting?”
Andie shook her head and sighed. “I can’t really see that much. It’s … it’s fuzzy.” She lied and felt kind of awful about it. But she couldn’t bear to tell him what the last scene of that fight was.
With pleading eyes, Sam got closer. “Can you look again?”
Against her better judgment, she took his hand in hers and focused on his face. She repeatedly told herself, “Sam is happy,” hoping she would get good fragments of his future instead of what she had seen earlier that morning. This vision flooded her quicker than any before, and her whole body went warm. She closed her eyes and breathed slowly to calm herself from the intensity of the heat - this only happened when she saw herself involved, so she was a little freaked.
Sam squeezed at her hand and whispered. “Everything okay?”
Andie nodded and focused more on the picture as it came into focus and she saw them sitting together, looking through maps and files and journals, searching so desperately for information. They were talking, but she couldn’t hear words, she just knew Sam was worried and she was helping him. Helping to find … someone? She wasn’t sure. So much for happy, she grunted to herself before repeating the whole ‘Sam is happy’ motto. The picture flipped and she saw them lying together in a hotel bed, sleeping peacefully. And the warmth spread further, making her smile.
He squeezed again, which made her open her eyes. “What is it?”
She fought to not look him in the eyes, suddenly loving the blend of greens and browns, and how happily curious he was in that moment. “Nothing’s perfect,” she smirked. “But good things come along.”
“Are you sure that’s not a fortune cookie?”
Andie punched against him, still holding his hand. “Jerk.”
Sam laughed, but their conversation was interrupted by his ringing phone. He left the room to speak in a hushed voice. “Dean, what’s up?”
He picked up a lanyard and name badge that had been kept in a desk drawer in the Fletcher’s home. “David Fletcher? Went by Dan at the movie theater.”
“What?”
“Yeah, Dan Lewis. Mother’s maiden name is Fletcher.
“But, why?”
“Kinda creepy, really,” he humored. “The mom had a stillborn two years before him, named the baby David. I guess the kid didn’t like being associated with that.”
“I can’t imagine he would. Did you ask about the grave?”
“Yeah, Dad says the mom did it for the ceremony, but he’s really at the family tomb. White Rose Cemetery, just a few blocks from all the train ruckus.”
“We go tonight?”
“Yeah. Tomorrow’s Andie’s supposed derailment. I don’t need to chance that she’s right about that.”
*
Andie had always been an incredibly curious person, which was kind of ironic considering how badly she wanted her visions to stop, or slow down, or at least only show good moments. While Dean annoyed the crap out of her and the vision of her and Sam together down the road completely floored her - in that good, tingly way - she was trying her best to not focus on them. She wanted anything but to continue seeing their future, fighting in a war with no winners.
And so with curiosity, she made her way back to the tracks where they had seen Fletcher toss himself into the train. Sam had headed out to the White Rose Cemetery to check on the family tomb, and Dean. Well, Dean had fallen asleep on her couch. So come evening, as the sun began to sink, Andie left the house and Dean behind.
She walked along Burlington Avenue, which hugged the tracks and gave her some small bit of safety. Or comfort. Whichever it was, it made her feel better. But it wasn’t long until she heard footsteps. She glanced back and saw nothing, so she continued on. A second time, steps sounded behind her and a second time there was nothing. When she turned back forward, she had a face full of Dan Lewis. David Fletcher. Whatever.
“Dan,” she tried carefully while walking backwards, away from him without too much alarm.
He laughed. “Andie, all these years, you still say the wrong name.” He continued to follow and purposefully led her down the slight hill, towards the tracks.
She frowned and went with her nicest voice. “Dave.” His lips hitched a smile, which actually kind of creeped her out. Him being dead and all. “Did you really kill John and Josh?”
Fletcher looked thoughtful and finally smirked. “I didn’t really do it. I mean it was the train.”
“You don’t have to do all this.”
“Andie, you wouldn’t know what I have to do.”
“For what?”
“To get your attention,” Dave answered, as if it was obvious.
“What?”
His face went dark. “You hardly noticed me back then, and when we did talk, you were obsessed with Josh and John, and anyone else at the theater.”
“I wasn’t.”
He came closer, hitching his voice up a bit in mocking. “Josh is going to Loyola, I had no idea he was so motivated. Josh got a new car, did you see it?”
Her face cleared of any fear and she got angry, pissy even. “I do not talk like that.”
“Maybe not anymore. But I bet you still think like that. You were always an inconsiderate bitch.”
“If I’m so inconsiderate, then why are you trying to get my attention?”
His finger swept some hair from her cheek and he smirked. “So I could tell you that you were. And you know, just to torture you a little.” The hand slipped beyond her cheek and back to her neck, gripping a little too hard. “Like how you tortured me for all those years, talking about anyone but never asking me a single thing.” A little more pressure. “And you never noticed that I was the nice guy. The one who would hold doors open for you and treat on every date. I’m not the one who invited you to parties but make out with Lauren Anders.”
Andie was squirming, but trying to remain a little calm. And got quite nasty, being her defense mechanism and all. “This isn’t really nice guy territory, ya know?”
“Been there, done that. Bought the shirt.” He smiled harder, squeezed more, cutting off more air. “I’m finally being the bad guy. The one you always wanted.”
Andie couldn’t help but think of the fact that years ago she stopped liking the bad guy and started going after the good ones. If only she’d done it just a bit earlier, she’d probably be somewhere else, instead of fighting asphyxiation. She started pushing at him, but it was of no help. In fact, it made things harder as she fought against him while trying to deal with what little oxygen she was getting. “Jerk. Fuck,” she grumbled against it all.
“Hey! Fatal Attraction!”
Both heads turned to Dean, holding his sawed off shotgun just a few feet from them. Once he fired, Fletcher disappeared with a cloud of smoke behind him. Andie fell into a crouched position, breathing heavily and Dean grabbed at her. “C’mon.” He began to lead her away from the area.
She coughed. “Maybe next time you could show up a little earlier.”
“Maybe next time you could stay where I tell you to stay.
They hurried from the area, each looking behind them to make sure Fletcher was gone when Andie heard Dean curse, and then fall to the ground. “What are you doing?” she harped, but was answered when she, too, was leveled to the ground and saw Fletcher hovering over them both.
He leaned down to yank her back up, holding at her neck again, and then shoving her away. “You are such a nasty little bitch. Marching off with your new boyfriend. Sounds like another valuable dickhead.”
Dean rose quickly, tackling Fletcher, wrestling with him to and fro. Andie landed near Dean’s gun and picked it up aiming at Fletcher. “He’s not my boyfriend, shithead.” She fired a shot that just missed Dean, but pegged Fletcher well enough to disappear again.
“Hey! You just missed my head!”
She frowned a little with disappointment. “Yeah, I know.”
Seconds later, Fletcher was back and tossing them around, finally hovering over Dean, hands clutched around his throat and snickering. “You think you’re so badass and awesome. I eat guys like you for lunch.”
*
Sam always considered himself a pretty smart guy. I mean, he had a raging LSAT score and had been going to Stanford before Dean showed up. Law School, even. It wasn’t junior college phys ed. So when he was unable to locate the Fletcher family tomb, or even get an answer from any employees at White Rose, he felt like he was going to freaking lose it. These sorts of things did not happen to him. He always researched his way out of everything, or at the very least, had Dean to lead him to the answers. But right then, he couldn’t find his way out of tin can and Dean was wherever.
As he roamed the cemetery one last time, his phone went off. “Yeah,” he answered tiredly.
“Sam!” Dean barked. He was huffing. “You better have your ass at the cemetery and two seconds from torching this son of a bitch.”
He heard some noises and grunts, and basically figured out that Dean was in trouble. Sam’s smart.
“Sam! Tell me you are!”
Rushing now, he checked out a few more tombs. “Dean, there isn’t anything Fletcher here.”
“Then get down to the tracks - umph!”
“Dean?!” Sam yelled in return and started running back towards the car.
“Aghh,” he grunted.
“Okay. I’m coming!” Sam came to a halt, and then turned quickly, sliding in the dew-stained grass. “Shit, shit. Yes!” He took off to his left, charging the cement building marked Lewis. With wet shoes, he streaked his way inside and searched the tablets with a flashlight. “Nancy Smith Lewis, Chris Lewis,” he murmured the names until he gladly pronounced “David Fletcher Lewis!”
With the butt of his gun, he broke the glass covering the intricate casket and tugged that sucker out of its place.
*
Fletcher grabbed Dean by his jacket and hauled him through the air. He landed across two rails, just like the guy from earlier in the week. Andie ran to help Dean, who was moving so slowly and in pain. But Fletcher grabbed at the back of her shirt, tossing her back, keeping a tight grip. He marched over and settled at the inbound tracks, holding her at the throat. She choked against his hold and tried to hit him, scratch him, kick, whatever. Nothing worked.
A light flashed on them both and she looked with horror at the train coming upon them. As best she could, she screeched Dean’s name, but with the whole choking thing it was pretty garbled and he was still not moving well after being smacked against the iron rails.
Dean finally rose and ambled his way towards them when Andie shrieked at the flames rising from Fletcher’s skin, the oncoming train, her impending death. “No, no, no!” she yelled. Seconds later, he was crumbling into flames and Andie dropped onto the tracks. Dean grabbed her, launching them both to the other side of the rails, rolling with the momentum to avoid the train. His hands covered her face from the rocks being kicked around with the train’s fast passing but he watched as Fletcher finally disintegrated into air, leaving just a puff of smoke behind.
Dean huffed his breaths. “So much for nice guys.” He turned to Andie, who looked pretty rough and just stared at the ground where Fletcher had been. Rising, he offered her a hand. “You really drive the guys to Crazytown, don’t ya?”
Andie shoved at his back, at the spot that had just been crushed against the rails.
He coughed with a tiny, painful laugh. “Thanks.”
She pushed her hand out again at his shoulder, but with less force. Her voice was a little humorous, but not without meaning. “Thank you.” His hand rested against her elbow and she quickly turned to him for a hug.
Dean made a tiny sound as she held tightly. This was the last thing he expected from her, but he’d take it. The thanks at the end of the day was one of his favorite parts. It certainly helped his ego. He gently hugged her back because at least she wasn’t calling him a jackass anymore.
“No offense. I kind of don’t want to see you ever again.”
He smirked. “Me neither.”
*
Dean watched from the Impala as Sam did yet another one of his infamous tender-but-not-getting-any goodbyes. When they first returned to Andie’s house, he was pretty close to encouraging Sam to spend some time there while he found some place to eat and maybe have a couple-a-four beers. But then he had to remember that the last few girls Sam had sex with had to be killed because they were, well, evil, to be honest. Though he had to admit, Andie probably wasn’t evil, she was just a bitch most times. Dean decided to give them a second and sat in the driver’s seat, trying his best to not watch.
“Sam, take care of yourself,” Andie said softly, smiling up at him. It was hard to consider staring up at that level every day, but she was pretty sure she would get used to it.
He smiled in return, keeping his eyes with her. “Yeah. You, too.” He handed a book over and looked nervous. “Here. This might help with the visions. It talks about what psychics do and how they can control the afterlife. It might help you.”
One eyebrow rose. “Psychics?”
His shoulders turned in and he gave an awkward laugh. “I was thinking the control part was more applicable.”
“Yeah,” she smiled. “I hope so.”
In a moment of silence, Sam fought with his next question, which came out rushed. “So you see me being happy in the future?”
Her lips hitched up high on one side. “Yeah, there’re some good things.”
“We make it out of the big fight?”
She struggled with the answer, but didn’t want him to leave knowing full truth. “You do things later, yes.”
He nodded and kept his eyes to her with a tiny smile. Awkwardly, he reached a hand out and softly grabbed at her elbow. “Take care.”
Andie laughed a little, grabbed onto his arm, and stepped back on her stoop. “Here.” She tugged just slightly and reached for his face, thankful for the few inches of height she had just gained.
They kissed for a few moments as his hands slipped to her back and her mind flashed to their future scenes. When they pulled back she smiled - something she couldn’t stop doing around him, apparently. “I’ll see you soon.” His eyebrows drew together and she just smiled. “Trust me.”
He gave one quick kiss and said goodbye, walking back to the Impala, daring himself not to look back. With a sigh, he got into the passenger seat.
“Well, Sammy, I guess this wasn’t a wasted trip after all. I got some good pizza and you nearly got the girl. You’re getting better at resisting the she-devils.”
Sam sighed. “She’s not bad.”
“Right.”
“She saw our future.”
“Yeah, demons, and vampires, and shape shifters. Oh my!”
“Dean, she said there were some good things.”
“C’mon,” he laughed. When Sam’s face went serious, but a little red, he smacked his back. “Sammy! Look who’s the smitten one.”
He made an annoyed face. “What?”
“So what’d she see? Demons at the Playboy Mansion?”
Another face. “Dean.” Dean laughed. “She said we were fighting in the war, but other things, too.”
“Like what?”
“Like … we get out? She saw things beyond the fight.”
He went serious and watched Sam. “Really?”
“Yeah.”
“You believe her?”
He smirked a little. “Yeah, I do.”
With a cluck of his mouth and a pat on the back, Dean smacked Sam’s stomach. “Smitten, Sammy. Smitten like a kitten.”
Sam punched Dean’s shoulder as he started the car and pulled out of the cul de sac.
Andie watched them pull away, her smile slowly eroding as she relived the scene she first had of Sam and Dean, fighting the Great War that Lucifer had broken from the gates of hell for. The war where Sam and Dean fight each other. And one is left to continue fighting alone.
Next | Double Trouble | The Brothers Winchester find themselves investigating some freaky incidents at a day care in Missouri. Dean tries his best to avoid vulgarities while getting up close and personal with the education system, and Sam solves the case via crappy movies-of-the-week.