Nebraska was a quiet state, even with the trouble these days. The back roads were mostly dead now. Few people were brave enough to travel where there weren’t lights every couple of feet. Still, there was one beacon in the dark, Harvelle’s Roadhouse. It still wasn’t the nicest looking place on Earth, though someone had attempted to paint it and fix
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Sam drove up in the Impala to the roadhouse alone, knowing this was a call he had to make on his own. Alec and Ben were both safe at Bobby's now, and Ruby was checking up on the demon army.
So Sam had enough time to come and tell Jo personally what had happened. She deserved to hear it in person. And when her camero was the only car in the area, Sam was grateful that they could get time together.
And he had taken the Impala as a way to not only keep Alec at Bobby's, but also... Sam just needed that connection with his brother for a moment. Or, well, a few hours in the drive.
But soon it was over and he got out, heading into the roadhouse after making sure there wasn't anyone following him.
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In preparation, she got two beers out and set them on the bar for the boy. They always seemed to want a drink after a hard job when they stopped by. At this hour, they had to be getting off of a Hunt.
She looked up when Sam walked in, smiling. "Hey, Sam."
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He stood in the doorway a moment, looking at all the work she had put in to finishing the place. In the last few years he had stopped in less and less.
He saw the two beers and sighed. No, she hadn't learned on the grapevine. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
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"What's wrong?"
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"How bad is it?" She had already braced herself for the worst.
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"Dean's gone. His son was possessed by the same demon that got me years ago, and Dean sacrificed himself to save him."
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She swallowed and blinked bad tears. "Damn." she managed not to choke on the words. "Damn."
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Sam took a deep breath, keeping his emotions in check.
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"Thanks. Just a second." She got up and quickly went back behind the bar. It took her awhile to find it, but she dug out the old bottle of local moonshine she kept for the really bad days and grabbed two shot glasses before returning to the table.
"I think we need something stronger than beer for this." She said as she poured them both a shot.
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Sam leaned back in his chair and sighed, taking his shot quickly.
"He always did want to go out dramatically, so he achieved that goal."
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"Yeah, your brother always had a flare for the dramatic."
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He poured them both another shot.
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"I hope so."
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