Fraternal

The boys split up after a long day setting Karen’s café in some semblance of working order. She’d be closed for at least another week while she waited on new flatware and china to arrive. Because it was his lover’s mom, Nathan volunteered to pay for any equipment she needed and repairs to be done. Karen accepted, but only as a business loan. Nathan agreed to have the papers drawn up. It felt good doing something useful with the money.

Lucas and Sam headed over to the library to see if they could catch it before it closed. Sam explained that they needed to find out any information about the land the café sat on. Nathan borrowed a car from the dealership he now owned and loaned it to his brother and Sam. He was actually going to use it for himself and Dean but the older Winchester balked at the idea of his baby in the hands of his brother and Lucas.

“You mean all that Stephen King stuff is true,” Lucas asked, amazed, as they sat surrounded by books on the supernatural.

“Indian burial grounds, cursed land, that stuff…yeah,” Sam answered.

“But why now? Why would some angry spirit or demon show up now?” Lucas frowned.

Sam closed the book he was leafing through and studied the younger blond sitting across from him.

“What you’re asking is did we cause this with our ritual,” he spoke in hushed tones, making sure no one in the mostly empty building heard them.

“Did we?”

Sam shook his head. His dad had always warned them about the dangers of using spells. He always thought he was being overbearing and critical. Now he was beginning to realize his dad may have been concerned for their safety.

“I don’t know. When we get back to the house, I’ll take another look at the spell. Of course, now that the symbols have washed off, it will be hard to tell if something went wrong,” Sam said thoughtfully.

“They didn’t,” Lucas whispered.

Sam quirked an eyebrow. “They didn’t what?”

“Wash off. The symbols didn’t was off. When I took a shower this morning, the symbols were still there.”

Sam tried not to look worried. The ink he’d used to paint the symbols was water soluble. There was no reason for them to still be there.

“Nothing to worry about,” he lied, “they’ll probably come off after a few washings.”

Lucas wasn’t sure, but he thought he saw some concern in Sam’s eyes. He tried to shake it off and pay attention to the volume he had in front of him. By the library’s closing time, neither had found anything of significance.

Nathan and Dean had spent their time gathering materials to battle whatever it was they might be facing. The clerk at the local hardware store seemed perplexed when they nearly bought out all the rock salt he had. Their next stop was a local jewelry shop where Dean purchased as much silver as possible. They drove next to a local mall and purchased more sterling silver, candles and a giant bag of M&M’s.

“In case I get hungry,” Dean explained, when Nathan looked at the item puzzled.

Dean gave Nathan a quick lesson in the different types of natural elements that warded off certain demons and killed others.

“The most important thing is physical training,” Dean went on to say. “I know you’re an athlete and that works in your favor, but between hunts, we need to train. You have to be a sharp shooter, have quick reflexes and skilled at hand to hand combat. Weight training is important too,” Dean explained.

“Sounds like boot camp to me,” Nathan laughed.

Dean thought about all the days, weeks and months his father trained them. How the training went on up until Sam left. He realized without it, he and Sam would have been killed a long time ago. It was funny that the prospect of training new recruits for their mission made him understand his dad’s fanaticism about hunting and training. Sure Lucas and Nathan were willing recruits while he and Sam were more like draftees but that didn’t really matter. Dean wished there was some way to tell John Winchester that he understood and appreciated what he‘d done, but that bridge was burnt when Sam put a gun to his own father’s head.

In hindsight, knowing what they now knew about the demon and his plans for Sam, it was understandable that John was hard on them. What seemed like verbal abuse then , Dean now understood was a matter of survival to John. He realized that if Nate and Lucas were going to train, it couldn’t be fun and games. They might even find him to be a hard ass but Dean needed to make sure they were fully prepared if they were going to seriously take up the hunt with them. They’d killed the Deva only to find out there were many others. Evil didn’t end. He had to make sure Nathan and Lucas understood that. In some ways, he had to channel his father to help protect and get the Scott’s ready.

It took a few seconds for Dean to realize he’d been lost in thought. Nathan must have said something because he was watching him as if waiting for an answer. Dean raised an eye brow questioningly. Nathan laughed.

“I asked, did your dad train you like that, like it was boot camp.”

Dean nodded with a smile. “Yeah, he did.”

“So did mine. Basketball was everything to him. I guess he didn’t want me to miss out on the opportunity he did.” Nathan shook his head and laughed. “How is it possible to love someone and hate them at the same time.”

Dean watched the younger man. He supposed his feelings about his own father were just as conflicted.

“Because,” he began slowly, “nothing in this world is black and white. There are plenty of gray areas along the way.”

“Are their gray areas when it comes to hunting?”

Dean thought about Sammy and what he was supposed to become and Gordon and his sister. “Yeah, sometimes there are.”

“How do you know what’s evil and what’s not?”

“You know in here,” Dean said, placing his hand on Nathan’s chest. The boy stared back at him nodding. “All right, that’s enough Dr, Phil for today,” Dean said, breaking the serious mood. “Help me sort some of this shit out .”

Nathan laughed as they dumped their purchases on the kitchen counter top and began to separate things out.

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Deb Scott sat in her bed with a drink in her hand. She felt numb. She wanted to feel some sadness for the loss of her husband but the truth was she didn’t. Karen had been the lucky one. She had a son who loved her and the opportunity to raise him without the benefit of Dan’s overbearing personality.

The truth was , she took a job that allowed her to travel so much to get away from the man and his obsession with what he’d lost in high school. His constant pressuring of their son to do better in basketball was just a reminder that she was never what he wanted. He wanted his glory days. He wanted his old girlfriend and the game.

She reached for her purse to take the sedative she’d been prescribed when she started having trouble sleeping. She popped the pill in her mouth and chased it down with the liquor. Placing the glass on the side table she rested her head against the pillow and closed her eyes. The sound of glass breaking startled her awake. She listened carefully, not sure whether she’d been dreaming.

The sound of glass shattering again had her trembling. She reached in the nightstand for the revolver Dan kept for protection. She picked up the phone and dialed 911. Keeping her voice low, she told the dispatcher that an intruder was in her home. Her pleas for help grew more frantic when she heard footfalls on the stairs.

“Oh god, they’re coming up here,” she panicked.

The operator assured her help was on the way. It occurred to Deb seconds before a shadow could be seen beneath the doorway outside of her bedroom, that she hadn’t checked to make sure the gun was loaded.

“He’s outside my door,” she said, no longer whispering. The damned woman on the other end just kept repeating the same insipid instructions.

When the police arrived, it was to a home completely in shambles. Glassware was broken, tables overturned, expensive paintings destroyed. By the time they’d reached the bedroom, it was too late. Deborah Scott lay across the bed, nightgown hiked up across her stomach, gun clutched in her hand and eyes wide open in terror.

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The Scotts and the Winchester’s were just settling down to a pasta dinner. Dean was adamant about changing their diet before training began. Sam, Lucas and Nathan were giving him a hard time and calling him sergeant. The doorbell rang and Nathan joked about getting permission to answer it. He could hear Sam and Lucas still laughing while Dean defended his actions and threatened to withhold sexual favors if Sam didn’t behave.

The laughter died down when Nathan returned to the kitchen with a blank look on his face.

“Nate, what’s wrong?” Lucas was the first to ask, moving from his chair to his brother’s side as he did so.

“My mom...she’s dead.”