Best Laid Schemes (6/10)
The waitress - Kristen - knew a lot and, thankfully, was very willing to share it. This was due in no small part to Mark's good looks and charm. Sam smirked at how similar Mark's flirting was to Dean's.
Kristen was definitely cute, if a little older than the women Dean usually went for, but Sam was still surprised his brother made no attempt to chat her up. It was a testament to how shitty his brother must have been feeling that he hardly gave the girl a second glance.
"So how long have you lived here, Kristen?" Mark asked smoothly as she was pouring coffee for the three of them.
"My whole life," she said proudly. "Born and raised in New Paltz, NY."
Mark smiled and Kristen visibly swooned at that. "It's a very beautiful town. Listen, Kristen, I'm a bit of a history buff and I've heard that this town has some really rich history. Is there anything you could tell me about the Native American lore?"
Kristen excitedly recounted the history lesson that Mark had given the boys the day before, and Mark pretended to be riveted by it. Sam laughed at his ridiculous display.
After she had carried on for five minutes, Sam interrupted when it was obvious this wasn't going to get them any new information. "Are all the townspeople as helpful as you?" he asked her nicely, knowing that flattery was the best way to get information from someone like her.
Kristen blushed and shook her head. "Depends on who you talk to."
"How do you mean?" Sam prodded.
"Well…" Kristen looked around the diner and lowered her voice. "For as great as this town is, the people are really polarized. It goes back to the town's origins. The Huguenots versus the Esopus. I guess even though the lines between the two have blurred, there are still some who hold grudges."
"I thought all the Esopus had migrated to other areas," Mark interjected, immediately drawing Kristen's attention back to him.
Kristen shook her head. "I mean, sure, there was a diaspora of sorts," Sam raised his eyebrows; Kristen was clearly not the stereotypical dumb blonde, "but a good portion of the Esopus tribe remained in New Paltz. Like I said, the lines have blurred considerably over the generations, and it's nearly impossible to know who is a descendant of the Huguenots and who is a descendant of the Esopus. Usually it doesn't matter. But for some, feelings run deep. If you've experienced any negativity since you've arrived, don't take it too personally."
"Is the Sheriff from the Esopus?" Dean asked, lifting his head off his arms. "Because that guy was a real A-hole."
"Dean," Sam scolded, kicking his brother under the table.
Kristen shook her head, laughing. "Sheriff Maxwell? No way. He just hates people in general. If I were you guys, I'd steer clear of him, though. You do not want to get on his bad side."
"Too late," Dean murmured softly.
It took a sharp look from her shift manager before Kristen remembered that she was still working and had other tables to take care of. Assuring the boys that she would be right back to take their orders, Kristen hurried off.
By the time Kristen returned, the hunters were ready to order. Sam and Mark got the diner specials; three eggs, three pancakes, and a side of bacon. Dean hadn't been planning on ordering anything, but Sam strong-armed him into at least getting a short stack of pancakes. Sam knew that whether or not his brother chose to eat them would be a whole other battle.
"So a town divided, huh?" Sam asked after they had ordered.
Mark hesitated. "I'm not sure divided is the right term, and I don't think the town is as polarized as Kristen seems to think it is. I do buy the anger from the Esopus descendants, though. We should go back to the library and see if there's anything that can help us determine how the animosity has changed over the years."
Sam nodded. "What do you think, Dean?"
Dean had been listening lazily to their conversation, sipping at his coffee and willing the dull pain in his head to back off. "Yeah, sounds good," he answered, lifting his eyes to look across the table at Mark and his brother. "Hey maybe I can meet your hot library friend," he tried for a smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.
Sam smiled back, grateful for Dean's attempt at levity.
Kristen brought their breakfast platters out very quickly, flirting with Mark for a few minutes before hurrying back to the kitchen. Mark and Sam dove in right away, devouring the heart-burn-inducing meals as if they hadn't eaten in days. Just like at the diner in Manalapan, Dean was far less enthusiastic about his food. Simply watching Sam and Mark scarf down their breakfasts was making him nauseous.
Knowing that Sam would keep bugging him until he ate, Dean carefully cut up the pancakes and took a small bite. The first bite settled heavily in his stomach, but Dean managed to take a few more before giving up and returning to taking sips of coffee. He didn't know why, but the bitter liquid seemed to settle his stomach a little.
"So are we heading to the library after breakfast?" Sam asked around a bite of pancake.
Mark nodded. "Might as well. I don't think we're going to get anything from that construction site."
"What about from the other guy?" Dean croaked out.
"What other guy?" Sam asked, confused.
"The other construction guy. The one that didn't die."
Sam looked over at Mark. "You said he was in critical condition?"
"Yeah," Mark confirmed, "but that was just what I had heard on the scanner, so who knows how accurate that was." Mark paused for a moment, thinking. "How bout you two check out the library and I'll head to the hospital to see about the eye witness?"
Sam wanted to protest, but Dean was already shaking his head yes, and so Sam agreed as well. With the plans decided, he and Mark continued to eat their breakfasts while Dean pushed around the food on his plate, decidedly uninterested in eating any more.
It was another five minutes before Dean started to shift in his seat, attempting to find a comfortable position. He was sweaty, hot, and nauseous, and the feelings seemed inescapable.
"Dude," Sam's voice was low and concerned. "Are you okay?"
Dean didn't answer, but his glare said enough.
Sam didn't back down though. "Sorry man, but you're sweating like a pig and you're really pale. Maybe we should…"
Dean didn't hear the rest of that because he was already up and moving to the back of the diner as quickly as he could, reaching the bathroom just in time before sinking to his knees in front of one of the toilets and expelling everything he'd just eaten, the act leaving him winded and shaken. He closed his eyes as the throbbing in his head intensified and he wished that he was anywhere but in a crowded diner, where the sounds and smells only worsened his nausea.
Sam had been ready to follow the second Dean had bolted, but Mark had urged him to stay. "Let him be, Sam. I know you're worried, but he's just going to fight you more."
Sam reluctantly agreed to sit tight, but he pushed away his plate and focused on the coffee instead. His knee shook up and down repeatedly with nervous tension and he kept taking periodic glances in the direction of the bathroom, waiting to see when Dean would return. When another ten minutes had passed with no sign of his brother, Sam pushed himself up out of the booth. "I'm checking on him," he told Mark, and Mark looked like he had been seconds away from doing the same.
Sam pushed into the bathroom, finding it empty save for the last stall, where he could see Dean's biker boots poking out from under the door. "Dean," he said, tentatively pushing open the stall door. Dean had his back against one side of the stall, and his hair was sweat-slicked and plastered against his head. He was stark white in the pale lighting of the bathroom, his skin waxy and translucent. Dean turned his head sluggishly at the sound of Sam's voice.
"Hey," he said quietly, hiccoughing slightly.
Sam crouched down next to his brother, reaching out a hand to feel his brother's forehead. Dean knocked the hand away, but not before Sam could feel the furnace-hotness of his skin. "The fuck?" Dean grunted.
"You're burning up."
Dean gave Sam a look that clearly read, no shit, Sherlock.
Sam chuckled in spite of himself. "Let's get out of here."
Dean nodded, pushing himself up on his knees. Sam reached out to help, but Dean pulled away suddenly, lunging back towards the toilet to vomit stomach acid into the bowl. He coughed and sputtered, pressing a hand to his head when he'd finished. Sam sighed heavily behind him, reaching over his shoulder to flush the toilet. "C'mon man," he prodded, and this time Dean allowed Sam to help him stand. He swayed for just a minute when he was fully vertical, but pushed Sam away after a minute.
"M' okay," Dean said weakly, walking to the sink and turning on the faucets. He splashed cold water on his face for a few minutes, trying to wash away the suffocating hotness. He saw Sam's worried face in the mirror and turned around. "Sorry," he offered pathetically.
"For what?" Sam asked, truly confused.
"I know you don't want to have to worry about me." He shrugged. "I don't know what's wrong with me, man. I feel like shit. But I don't want to sit this one out either."
Sam sighed heavily - something he'd been doing a lot lately. "I just don't want you to get hurt. Or for this illness to turn too serious." Not that it wasn't bad enough already.
Dean nodded. "It won't." He squirmed under Sam's scrutinizing look. "We're not even hunting the damn thing yet. I can't get hurt doing research."
"The fact that you actually want to do research is scary enough, Dean."
Dean chuckled. "Yeah well it's better than lying at the motel like an invalid."
Sam couldn't argue with that, even if that was exactly what he wanted Dean to be doing. "Yeah, okay," he relented. "You and I can go to the library and Mark can check out the hospital. But you need to take some of the meds I bought."
Dean agreed, and not simply to appease his brother. He'd do anything to get rid of this headache. "Fine. But I get to hit on the hot librarian."
Sam snorted. "Deal."
Emily wasn't in the library and Sam was surprised to find himself disappointed by that. Dean didn't seem to care though - he was too out of it to even notice. A kind-looking older lady was standing at the circulation desk instead and greeted the boys with a smile, immediately asking how she could help them. Sam used the same excuse he'd used the day before about needing to research for his thesis, and soon enough she had them set up with books and old newspapers in a quiet back corner of the library.
"Do you need anything, dear?" the woman asked Dean, who had just about dropped into the chair the second he'd seen it.
Dean looked up, startled. He sat up a little straighter and tried to look less pathetic, but from the look on the woman's face, he'd failed miserably at that. "No thanks, I'm good," he told her gruffly. She tsked at him, but didn't push the issue, instead heading back to her post by the door.
"You wanna take the newspapers?" Sam asked, pushing them towards Dean.
"Yeah sure. What exactly am I looking for, anyway?"
"I'm not sure really. See if you can find anything about what Kristen had been telling us - the separation between the Esopus descendants and the Huguenots. Maybe there isn't anything, but I imagine if it's as divided as she implied, there's been some newsworthy flare ups."
"And what are you going to do?"
Sam motioned towards the textbooks. "I'm going to write a thesis."
Sam quickly found himself lost in the incredible history of the Esopus, but he soon realized he wasn't learning anything that would help him with the case. He glanced over at Dean, who was intently reading some article in one of the old newspapers he had spread on his desk.
"Did you find something?"
Dean held up a finger as he quickly finished scanning the article. "We really need to find out who moved those bodies," Dean insisted.
"Why?" Sam asked, sliding the article over so he could see what Dean had read.
Dean began to gather the articles, obviously intent on leaving as soon as possible. "Because I'm pretty sure they're going to die."