Fic: Wild By Skye (24/27)
On the way back to the Bonita Alta Suites, Sam wondered how he had ever thought he could be part of that normal world. It had seemed possible to him once, but had he just been deluding himself?
Maybe. Jess had made it seem so doable.
Sam smiled to himself at the irony. That was something Jessica and Skye had in common. They had been enough for each Winchester boy to believe they could be part of a world unlike the one they had grown to know.
But Dean had probably had a better chance of making it work, if only Skye had lived.
The thought of Skye made Sam frown.
He was worried about Dean. It seemed that in just the last two days an unshakable sorrow had gripped his older brother. Dean said he was dreaming about Skye. Sam believed that; he knew only too well how painful dreams of lost loved ones could be. But why was Dean dreaming about her now?
Sam wished there was something he could do to help, but Dean had made it clear he wanted to be left alone. Sam hated watching Dean suffer in silence, but he didn't know how to help him.
He hated to think the answer might be time. Maybe it was no more complicated than that Dean had hit a rough patch and he needed to work his way through it. They might have met someone that reminded Dean of Skye, passed a landmark that sparked a memory, or even missed an anniversary of some kind that made Dean remember her. Grief had a way of popping back up like that.
The hotel room at the Bonita Alta Suites was empty when Sam got back. He tossed the keys to the perfectly unscratched Impala on the room table and made his way to the bathroom to take a leak. He washed his hands and came back into the room where he unpacked his laptop and started the boot up process. He thought he'd surf some local news websites, look for anything that caught his hunter's eye. Maybe finding a hunt would be just the thing to get Dean's mind off his own demons.
While waiting for his computer to power up, Sam flopped down on the bed farthest from the door and grabbed the remote off the nightstand.
He didn't turn it on.
For a second Sam lay frozen in place, remote in hand and legs crossed at the ankles. He was listening, waiting, feeling out the room.
Something didn't feel right.
It was the kind of dread-filled sensation most people would shrug off and ignore. A hunter wouldn't.
Sam put the remote on the bed and sat up. He frowned and tried to pinpoint what exactly felt off.
No strange noises. No sudden sensations of cold. No goose bumps pricking at his skin to hint at ghosts.
Still… something was wrong.
Sam stood and moved around the room, looking for anything out of place that might explain his strange feeling. He checked the drawers for hex bags, studied the walls for any signs of painted-over dark arts symbols. He even turned on the lights to see if they would flicker.
When he turned on the lights over the nightstand, his eyes fell on Dean's cell phone lying inert beside the advertisement about free movie channels.
A cold knot formed in Sam's stomach. That was it. Somehow he knew that whatever sense of foreboding had claimed him, it had to do with Dean.
Where was Dean? Why hadn't he taken his cell phone with him?
Sam looked toward the door. There was no sign of a break in. If Dean had simply gone out, he would have taken his phone with him.
Sam picked up Dean's cell phone and went to the recent calls menu.
His throat tightened when he saw two recently received calls from their dad's number.
Their father had called Dean two days ago, when Dean had started acting weird.
Sam knew Dean had ditched Sam handily and left to meet up with Dad.
Shit.
He didn't know what John wanted with Dean, but it couldn't be good. It had to be about the wolf… it had to be.
What was Dean going to do? Sam's heart was pounding with sudden terror. He didn't know, and that was even more frightening.
Sam bolted for the door, snatching up the car keys on the way out. He didn't know where they were, but Sam had to find them.
Twenty-Five
Maybe. Jess had made it seem so doable.
Sam smiled to himself at the irony. That was something Jessica and Skye had in common. They had been enough for each Winchester boy to believe they could be part of a world unlike the one they had grown to know.
But Dean had probably had a better chance of making it work, if only Skye had lived.
The thought of Skye made Sam frown.
He was worried about Dean. It seemed that in just the last two days an unshakable sorrow had gripped his older brother. Dean said he was dreaming about Skye. Sam believed that; he knew only too well how painful dreams of lost loved ones could be. But why was Dean dreaming about her now?
Sam wished there was something he could do to help, but Dean had made it clear he wanted to be left alone. Sam hated watching Dean suffer in silence, but he didn't know how to help him.
He hated to think the answer might be time. Maybe it was no more complicated than that Dean had hit a rough patch and he needed to work his way through it. They might have met someone that reminded Dean of Skye, passed a landmark that sparked a memory, or even missed an anniversary of some kind that made Dean remember her. Grief had a way of popping back up like that.
The hotel room at the Bonita Alta Suites was empty when Sam got back. He tossed the keys to the perfectly unscratched Impala on the room table and made his way to the bathroom to take a leak. He washed his hands and came back into the room where he unpacked his laptop and started the boot up process. He thought he'd surf some local news websites, look for anything that caught his hunter's eye. Maybe finding a hunt would be just the thing to get Dean's mind off his own demons.
While waiting for his computer to power up, Sam flopped down on the bed farthest from the door and grabbed the remote off the nightstand.
He didn't turn it on.
For a second Sam lay frozen in place, remote in hand and legs crossed at the ankles. He was listening, waiting, feeling out the room.
Something didn't feel right.
It was the kind of dread-filled sensation most people would shrug off and ignore. A hunter wouldn't.
Sam put the remote on the bed and sat up. He frowned and tried to pinpoint what exactly felt off.
No strange noises. No sudden sensations of cold. No goose bumps pricking at his skin to hint at ghosts.
Still… something was wrong.
Sam stood and moved around the room, looking for anything out of place that might explain his strange feeling. He checked the drawers for hex bags, studied the walls for any signs of painted-over dark arts symbols. He even turned on the lights to see if they would flicker.
When he turned on the lights over the nightstand, his eyes fell on Dean's cell phone lying inert beside the advertisement about free movie channels.
A cold knot formed in Sam's stomach. That was it. Somehow he knew that whatever sense of foreboding had claimed him, it had to do with Dean.
Where was Dean? Why hadn't he taken his cell phone with him?
Sam looked toward the door. There was no sign of a break in. If Dean had simply gone out, he would have taken his phone with him.
Sam picked up Dean's cell phone and went to the recent calls menu.
His throat tightened when he saw two recently received calls from their dad's number.
Their father had called Dean two days ago, when Dean had started acting weird.
Sam knew Dean had ditched Sam handily and left to meet up with Dad.
Shit.
He didn't know what John wanted with Dean, but it couldn't be good. It had to be about the wolf… it had to be.
What was Dean going to do? Sam's heart was pounding with sudden terror. He didn't know, and that was even more frightening.
Sam bolted for the door, snatching up the car keys on the way out. He didn't know where they were, but Sam had to find them.
Twenty-Five