Best Laid Schemes (2/8)
A/N: This chapter is mostly Sam - I had intended to make it longer, but I'm realizing now that it's already sufficiently long and if I start the next section that I had intended to write, I'd be up all night. So I had to stop here. I hope you're still enjoying. Tons more sick Dean next chapter, if you want. Let me know!
By the time they reached the outskirts of New Paltz, Dean's cough had settled deep in his lungs, creating an unsettling rattle whenever he took too deep a breath. Sam wasn't the only one surprised by the rapid progression. Dean had hoped he could put off the need for meds of any sort until the hunt was finished. At this rate, he'd be in the hospital on oxygen by morning.
Sam didn't even bother annoying Dean with his questions on his well-being anymore. Dean knew his body, and it was obvious at this point that he was sufficiently aware of the seriousness of his latest illness. He'd had pneumonia before, and it never ended well. Each time had laid him out for more than a week; the last time - shortly after Sam had left for college - had landed him in the hospital on a ventilator. Dean just hoped he could catch a break this time around; that this cold/flu/virus didn't progress to hospital-bad. But then again, when did he or Sam ever catch a break?
"Shit. Did you see the last sign, Sam? I think I missed the fucking turn-off."
Sam looked behind him, hoping to catch a glimpse of the sign on the south-bound side. "NY-299?"
"Dammit!" Dean huffed, pounding his fist against the wheel.
"So just make a U-turn, Dean. What the hell is the big deal?"
Dean shot a glare at Sam. He was tired of driving, felt like shit, and just wanted to get off the damn road. Of course, he would never admit that to Sam, so any sort of retaliation against him was just plain dick-ish. "Yeah, you're right," he said calmly, realizing that he had taken his frustration out on his brother. And his car.
"Sorry, baby," he mumbled, rubbing the wheel gingerly.
"You apologize to the car, but not to me?"
"I didn't hit you, Sam. Though you couldn't blame me if I did. You're a pain in the ass ," he glanced over at Sam and smiled - an unspoken apology.
Dean took the next exit, looping around and getting onto the correct road. New Paltz was just a mile or two farther, and Dean sighed gratefully when he spotted the sign for Mountain Meadows Bed and Breakfast. The parking lot was small and crowded, but Dean found a space and pulled in, turning the engine off and letting his head fall back against the seat, closing his eyes.
"I'll go check in. You said Mark reserved us a room?" Sam asked when Dean made no move to open his door.
Dean opened one eye, looking at his brother. "Uhh, yeah he did." He pulled out his wallet, taking out the latest credit card. "Here," he handed the card to Sam. "Thanks."
Sam examined the card. "Paul Stanley? Really?"
Dean grinned. "Maybe they're not KISS fans."
"You suck," Sam huffed, opening the door and unfolding his long legs from the car.
"At least it wasn't Gene Simmons!" Dean shouted after him.
Dean chuckled again, resting his head back against the seat, happy that he could finally rest. He sat up straighter when he felt a cough coming on, pressing one hand hard against his chest and the other to his mouth, sputtering out a few ragged coughs, tasting the phlegm in the back of his throat. "Gross," he murmured, wiping his hand against his jeans. The headache from before had returned and he just wanted to lie down and sleep until it was gone.
Dean flinched when Sam rapped hard on the window, jerking upright and opening his eyes.
"Room 6," Sam told him once Dean had cranked down the window. Sam already had his bags with him and he went ahead to check out the room that they were staying in. Dean sluggishly pulled himself out of the car, pausing to take a few wheezing breaths before continuing. Sam had left the door to room 6 open and he walked in, placing his bags down on the closest bed.
"Not too bad," he croaked out.
Sam had been rummaging through his bags, but he looked up when Dean spoke. "Kinda cozy," Sam admitted. "Definitely not bad. And the view is amazing"
Dean slumped on his bed, tugging off his boots and jacket. He rolled over onto his stomach, wrapping a pillow around his head.
"Hey," Sam nudged Dean's bed with his leg. "Don't you want to let Mark know that we're here?"
"Later," Dean mumbled into the pillow.
"Why don't we just do it now, get it over with? Then we can crash for a few hours."
Dean rolled over, looking up at his brother with bleary eyes. "You've been asking me how I feel all freaking day, Sam. You wanna know? My head is killing me, my chest hurts, and my throat feels like I've swallowed razor blades. Mark is - he's too much for me to deal with right now. I just want to sleep. A few hours won't make a difference." Dean rolled back onto his stomach, turning his back to Sam. Conversation closed.
"Yeah okay, sorry man," Sam said, shocked by his brother's admission. "Get some rest. I think I'm going to explore the town a little. Call me if you need anything, okay?"
"Kay," Dean mumbled again, already dozing off. Sam took one last look at his brother before snagging the keys from the side table and heading out the door.
Sam found himself enjoying New Paltz a lot more than he'd expected to. It had only been a little over a year since he'd left Stanford, and he missed the college atmosphere, missed being around other students his age, bright with ambition and everything in the world to look forward to. It didn't take long before Sam ended up in the library. After all, that was where he'd spent most of his time at Stanford. Figuring it wouldn't hurt to do a little preliminary research, Sam decided to go in and investigate, looking around for anyone that would be able to provide him with pertinent information.
He found exactly who he was looking for in less than thirty seconds. A pretty student was sitting behind the circulation desk, though she seemed more interested in the tall, handsome stranger who had just walked in than she did in the books.
"Hi," Sam said, walking up to her and smiling, feigning shyness. "Emily," he read off her name tag. "My name is Sam."
"Hi Sam," she answered flirtatiously, clearly not the shy type. "How can I help you?"
"Actually, I was hoping maybe you could help me find some information. I'm just visiting a friend who's a student here at the university, but he's too busy studying for some big exam he has coming up, so he's been no help whatsoever."
Emily smiled widely, clearly anxious to help Sam out. "Are you in college somewhere?"
Sam nodded. "Stanford. I'm finishing up my thesis on Native American lore and culture, and I know New Paltz has a rich history."
"Stanford," Emily said, clearly impressed. "Well, Sam, you definitely came to the right place, though if I were you, I'd be a little careful about what you dig up." She whispered the last part, leaning closer to Sam, as if that information was some kind of secret that would get her in trouble.
Sam smiled, whispering back. "Why's that?"
Emily looked around, making sure no one was listening to them. "There's been some bad luck around here lately. More than bad luck. Some people think it's a curse."
Well, that was easy, Sam thought. Emily was giving him all the information he wanted, and he'd hardly even had to ask. "Cursed?" he repeated, adding a bit of inflection to his voice, letting her know that he was extremely interested in what she had to say. "What kind of a curse?"
"Native American," she told him, as if that was obvious. "I'm sure you must know about those kinds of things, right?"
"What…what do you mean?" Sam asked nervously, momentarily forgetting the cover story he'd fed Emily.
"You know, because of your thesis?" Emily eyed him skeptically.
"Oh right! Of course. Yeah, I've had some experience with that kind of thing before." Understatement of the year. "But I hadn't heard about anything happening here. I'd love for you to fill me in," Sam finished, smiling.
Any skepticism Emily had quickly vanished after that, and she repeated pretty much everything Dean had already told him, with a few unnecessary details, undoubtedly added to pique Sam's interest.
"So what'd they do with the bones?" Sam asked, genuinely curious.
Emily glanced around the library again, and Sam wasn't sure if it was just for show this time. Maybe it really was a secret. "I really shouldn't be telling you," she started, glancing around again. "I'm not even supposed to know."
Sam wasn't often jealous of Dean's ability to pick up any woman he wanted, but it was times like this when that skill really came in handy. Still, Sam hadn't been doing too badly here himself. He just needed to keep it up a little while longer.
"Come on, Emily," Sam pleaded, his voice low and smooth, "you can trust me." She hesitated for a second, and Sam continued. "Please," he wheedled, "it would be just the thing I need to put my thesis over the top. If I get published, I'll be sure to thank you in my acknowledgements." Sam winced, knowing that last part was overkill. But it seemed to be the selling point for Emily.
"You promise?"
"Scout's honor," Sam assured her, holding up three fingers in the boy scout hand signal.
"No one else can know about this, though. Not even your friend. If anyone finds out, I could lose my job." Emily waited for Sam to nod, then continued, her voice barely audible. Sam had to lean in even closer to hear her. "They're in the library."
"Here? But…"
"I know," she insisted, at Sam's look of obvious surprise. "I wouldn't have believed it either. I mean, why hide the bodies here? Super creepy if you ask me."
"Did someone tell you about this?"
Emily shook her head, looking mischievous. "I've seen them."
"How?"
"Sometimes I stay in the library after closing. Sometimes it's with a guy," she paused, smiling at Sam, "but usually it's to study. I know it's kind of creepy here all alone at night, but it's quiet. It's the only place I can really think, you know?"
Sam nodded. He'd been the same way back when he was in school, even sleeping in the library on occasion. "So you stay here after closing? Isn't that against school policy?"
"It is, but I've never been caught. I usually hide out in the women's room until the security guard locks up. It's actually really easy, though I haven't taken any chances since the discovery of the burial ground."
"Why not?"
"For one it's creepy as hell. I don't want to be alone here after all those weird things have happened. But they've also beefed up security. Now instead of the 70-year-old security office who can't see three feet in front of him, they have at least three younger cops patrolling the place. And it's every night too."
Dammit, Sam thought, dismayed. He'd hoped they wouldn't have a problem getting in at night. "You said the bodies from the burial ground are in this building. Where could they possibly have hid them? I'm sure there are students here all the time."
"You're right, there are. And if someone had told me that the bones were here, I never would have believed them. Hell, I thought I knew every inch of this place. The last time I stayed over night here was a little over a month ago, three days after they dug up the bones. Anyway, I heard several male voices, long after the library had supposedly closed. I hid behind this desk, but I did see a group of men carrying the artifacts and the bones down the stairs to the basement."
"Did you recognize the men?"
She hesitated slightly. "I think a few of them were from the construction site. But the Dean of the college was there - Dean Holgrum - and so was the head of the Anthropology department, Bill Watkins."
"So everything that they dug up - it's all in the basement?"
Emily nodded. "But you would never find it unless you knew where to look. There's a hidden passageway. And I mean really hidden."
"Do you have a floor plan or something? Can you show me on that?"
"You can't go down there! You'll get caught, and then my ass will be on the line."
"No, no, of course. I wouldn't want to get you in trouble. And I don't plan on going down there. I'm just interested." Sam hoped she bought that.
Emily eyed him warily for a moment before rummaging around, coming out with a map of the library. "Here," she said, holding it out for Sam to see. "You go down the steps and hang a left. It's behind a wall located at the end of that hallway."
"How could no one know about it?"
Emily shrugged. "Who would think to look for it?"
Sam nodded. Good point. "Can I take this?" he asked, motioning to the map.
"Yeah, I've got tons of copies."
"Thanks. I should probably get going now, but thank you so much for your help, Emily."
Emily looked crestfallen. "You're leaving?"
Sam hesitated. "I'm already so far behind in this thesis. And I need to get everything you've told me down on paper before I forget it." Emily nodded, though Sam could tell she was disappointed. "Do you work here often?"
"Every day, from 2 pm 'til 9. Will you be coming back?"
"You kidding me? You're the best source of information I've had in quite awhile. Maybe you could show me some books on the Native American history next time?"
Emily nodded with renewed enthusiasm. "I know all the best books."
"Great! I'll see you soon then," Sam said good bye, then turned and walked out of the library. He checked his watch quickly, realizing he'd already been gone for two hours. But no word from Dean yet. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
Thank you for reading! I'd love to know what you think Have a wonderful day.