Chapter Text
August 2003 - Ohio
Dean Winchester is tired. Standing outside, resting his head on the door of yet another run down motel room, he listens to his father and brother having an all out 'who-cares-what-the-neighbors-think' screaming match. Building his resolve to go into the room and try to defuse the situation is taking more effort than he cares to admit. He hates taking sides between his dad and brother, as ultimately he is the one that comes out the loser. By either angering John or disappointing Sam, Dean can't help thinking that sometimes it sucks to be him.
The bottom line; Sammy is leaving. He'd been accepted into Stanford and this is the ticket out that Dean knows that Sam has been praying for. It's killing him to think the Sam will soon be gone; he's spent most of his life caring for the kid and now for the first time Dean is left with the very real prospect of life without his brother.
Whilst he doesn't understand Sam's desire for an apple pie life, he respects that it is Sam's choice to make. Something John Winchester just can't grasp. Ever since their mother was murdered they'd been raised as soldiers, preparing for the final showdown with the demon that killed her, but as Sam can't even remember their mom he doesn't feel the same need for vengeance that John and Dean feel.
The voices in the room continued to rise and gritting his teeth Dean, pushes open the door and enters the fray.
October 2005- New Orleans
God damn it, Dean thinks to himself. Staring at his cell phone, he's yet again playing another round of the 'Should I call Sammy?' game. So far he'd resisted, knowing that has much as it hurt, Sam was living a better life without him. Not just better, safer as well. Dean misses his brother fiercely and can't decide whether hearing Sammy's voice would make him feel better or worse.
Growling to himself, he angrily stands and moves away from the phone. Why is this so frigging difficult to decide – call him or don't call him, make a choice and get on with it. Dragging a hand through his hair he asks himself for what feels like the hundredth time – Where the hell is Dad?
Grabbing the phone off his unmade bed, Dean angrily punches the number for John's other, other cell. After a few rings the call gets diverted to that all too familiar voice message, instructing the caller to ring Dean. How the hell is that supposed to help him!
Stalking around the unkempt motel room Dean finally makes a decision. Sam is better where he is, and Dad is probably just knee-deep in a hunt. He knows the last place John was headed and quickly grabbing his belongings, makes the choice to follow his Dad.
Once he's checked out of the motel Dean dumps his crap in the back of the Impala and roars out of the parking lot. Next stop Jericho.
October 2005 - Stanford University, California
Sitting in a dark and crowded bar Sam Winchester feels good. When he'd first arrived at Stanford two years ago, he couldn't walk into a bar without feeling utterly depressed. Every time someone raised their voice or he heard laughter, Sam had half expected to turn around and see Dean leaning over the pool table, face deep in concentration hustling some poor sap of their hard earned cash.
Now sitting here, surrounded by friends and sitting next to the most amazing woman he's ever met. It strikes him often how lucky he is to have met Jess; she's patient, intelligent, beautiful and by some miracle, his.
It had taken a long time but he's finally happy with his new life. He's doing well in his classes, has a great circle of friends and is in love. Still, he misses his brother every day, always worrying if Dean is alright. Too many times to count Sam had dialled Dean's number and then chickened out, convincing himself that Dean is fine and that hearing his voice would just send him straight back to how he felt in the beginning.
Even now, with his friends speaking enthusiastically around him, his thoughts linger with Dean; what is he doing, is he on a hunt, and is he happy? Grumbling to himself internally, Sam tries to tear his thoughts away from his older brother.
Looking over at Jess, he realised she is looking back at him with a troubled frown. Damn, How long have I been spaced out?
"Are you okay?" Jess asks quietly, concern evident in her tone.
Just as Sam is about to reply that's he's fine, the most intense pain he's ever felt in his life stops him in his tracks. His head feels like it's about to explode and he can feel his body sliding back off the bar stall, but he can't do anything to stop his fall.
Images flash through his mind; Dean standing on a bridge looking at a woman in the distance. Dean driving down a dark highway with the same woman in the passenger seat. Then finally the woman attacking Dean, revealing herself to be a ghost and shoving her fingers deep into his chest, whilst he screams out in agony.
Sam can barely breathe as the images start to recede, but the panic and fear reverberating around his body only intensifies. Jess is standing over him frantically repeating his name and his friends have formed a semi-circle around where he's fallen, but Sam doesn't notice.
Only one thought is repeating itself over and over again; Dean is in serious trouble.
7 Miles from Jericho, California
Dean rubs at his tired eyes, he's been driving too long but anxiety stops him from finding a motel on the way. Seeing a passing sign he's relieved that there's less than ten miles to his destination, already looking forward to a few hours rest. Rolling down the window of his beloved car, he hopes the cold air will give him an extra boost of energy.
Three weeks ago, Dean and John had come across a case of guys going missing along a small stretch of highway. After enough evidence had piled up, confirming their suspicions that something supernatural was happening John had set off to do some digging.
Not long after Dean made the decision to follow John to Jericho, his father had unexpectedly left him a voicemail. After pulling into a rest stop he'd played the message back. John hadn't exactly been reassuring, in fact it had been the opposite; informing Dean to be on his guard and they were in danger. Whilst already worried about the fact he hadn't spoken to his dad in three weeks, what had Dean putting his foot all the way down on the gas pedal was the ethereal voice that he'd discovered faintly in the background of the call.
The poor, crackling quality to the call immediately has Dean thinking of EVP, so after cleaning up the static, he'd played the message again. This time he could clearly hear the voice of a woman "I can never go home"
Dean's sure his father can handle a ghost, but the faster he gets to Jericho, the better. He'd already called around the local hospitals and thankfully no-one matching his dad's description had been admitted.
The miles pass rapidly and before long he's entering the town limits. Unfortunately it seems like sleep is going to have to wait. Up ahead he spots couple of cop cruisers and officers milling around. After pulling over, Dean reaches into the glove compartment and pulls out a small box, rifling through his collection of fake I.D's he settles on the Federal Marshal badge.
Climbing out, he ambles closer to the scene and listens in on the conversation. Apparently a local kid had gone missing. Following the exchange between the two deputies, Dean takes note of the name of the missing guy's girlfriend - he'd probably need to speak to her later.
Deciding to try and get more details from the cops he moves closer. After flashing his badge and a brief conversation with the two deputies, Dean finds out the cops are grasping at straws. They can't provide much more than he already knows.
Heading back to the Impala, Dean passes two Feds and the Sheriff.
"Can I help you, Son?" the Sheriff asks. Dean just smiles, shakes his head and moves away. If Dad or Sam had been there he might've made a smart alec comment but his heart just isn't in it.
Thinking about Sam hurts. Maybe I should've just called him, Dean thinks to himself. Sighing, he gets back in the Impala. Dad being missing wasn't something entirely new to Dean but he can't help but feel he might be handling the whole situation better with Sam helping him out.
Sam angles his crappy rental car into a vacant parking bay adjacent to the reception of Jericho's only motel.
It's been over two days since his…episode… in the bar and he still hadn't been able to contact Dad or Dean. Whilst he always had regrets not keeping in touch with Dean for the past two years, now is the first time he wishes he'd bothered to call Dad as well. Two years is plenty of time for them to have changed their cell numbers more than once. Only one of the numbers Sam had listed was still in service, but every time he rang he only got put through to voice mail of his Dad reciting a phone number and instructing him to call Dean. His brother had usually been good with taking care of his cell but Dean hadn't answered once, despite Sam trying every few hours.
Pulling his long frame from the car, he breathes a sigh of relief. Being in such a rush to get to Dean he hadn't had an awful lot of choice at the car rental place, and had ended up having to take a small junker that Dean would've vehemently refused to be seen in.
Stretching his aching limbs, Sam moves towards the reception to check in. Knowing that there aren't many other options for travellers to stay in this town, he's carrying a photo of Dean.
"One room, please" Sam say's to the tired looking clerk.
"Sure, that cash or card?" he replies
"Cash. I don't suppose you've seen this man in the last few days have you?" Sam asks, holding up Dean's photo.
"Yeah, I've seen him; thought he might've been in town for a reunion. Strange surnames tend to stick out, he and another guy both checked in recently"
Sam's head shoots up at this statement So Dad and Dean are in town
"Are they still here?" he manages to choke out.
"Well the first guy, the older one, he booked the room for a month but I haven't seen him in about a week. The younger guy, he also booked a room and I saw him a day or two ago" the clerk answers.
"Can you possibly tell me the room numbers?" Sam asks with his politest smile.
"Sure, let me get those for you" the guy responds.
Standing outside the second of the two rooms his Dad and brother had booked, Sam feels anxious.
The first room was a bust, after checking he wasn't being watched he picked the lock and had gone into the room. Whilst it was clear that Dean had been there, when was the guy going to stop drying his socks in the sink, he wasn't there now. Sam already expected to find the room empty as the Impala wasn't parked outside.
Door number two then, again picking the lock he moves into the room, closing the door behind him. Whilst the dank, musty smell is the first thing that assaults his senses, it's the walls of the room that bring him up short.
Every flat surface is covered in research. So there's definitely a case, Sam thinks, stepping closer to the nearest wall. He starts scanning through each page, noticing that a lot of the pages are missing posters for local men. Finally something catches his eye and causes him to gasp. On a newspaper clipping from the Jericho Herald there's a picture of the woman he saw in his vision, and stuck to the article is a post-it note, on which "Woman in White" is messily scrawled in his dads handwriting.
"You dogs" Sam mutters under his breath, again looking at the faces staring back at him from the posters.
Grabbing the clipping from the wall, Sam reviews the article stopping when he reads 'Constance Welch, 24, of 4636 Breckenridge Road, leapt off Sylvania Bridge at mile 33 of Centennial Highway'
Sam stumbles back towards the bed, sitting he rakes his fingers through his hair. Sylvania Bridge. His thoughts flashing back to the vision of Dean, standing on a bridge, with the same woman from the article. Visions, he sighs to himself, as if he wasn't enough of a freak before. When he finds Dean how the hell is he going to explain that, he can't even explain it himself. His head still aches from the vivid images that forced themselves into his mind.
Stanford University, California - Two Days Earlier
Blinking up at the bright lights, Sam finally manages to reclaim some control over his body. After the vision receded, the first thing he noticed was Jess's panicked expression. He wants to tell her that he's okay, but battling the torrent of emotions circling his body, instead has him gasping for air. Long moments pass before he finally climbs shakily to his feet.
Brushing past the worried questions from his friends, with a muttered apology, he leads Jess outside. Sam's heart drops as he says four words he had never thought he would be saying to her.
"I have to leave" he says hurriedly. Already walking in the direction of their apartment.
"What? What do you mean leave? You just collapsed in there, where could you have to go right now, other than the hospital?" She asks surprised, eyebrows knitting together in confusion.
He's walking so fast that she's practically running to keep up with his long strides.
"Jess, I'm really sorry but I can't explain this right now, I am begging you to trust me" Sam pleads "I have to go, I know you're not going to understand this, but my brother needs me"
"Just stop for a second. What do you mean your brother needs you?" she questions.
Sam can see from her expression that she's wondering if perhaps he hit his head inside. Stopping, he grabs her hands and finally looks her in the eye.
Whilst she might not understand, Sam can tell that she's not going to fight his decision. With the panic he's feeling, he's not surprised that Jess picked up on it straight away. She could always read him like a book.
"Okay, you need to go; but what about your interview?" She asks, referring to his upcoming law school interview.
"I'll only be gone a few days, I'll make the interview" Sam's reply is instant, having already thought about this.
Sam sees her look at his face, open her mouth to ask another question but she doesn't. I don't deserve her, he thinks to himself, not for the first time.
Upon reaching their apartment, Sam grabs his duffel and starts stuffing clothes in to last a couple of days. Jess stands aside, looking at him with worry.
Residual flashes from the vision, race through his mind. Searching through the images, one in particular stands out. Dean on the dark road with his mysterious female passenger, looking ahead through the windshield there is a passing sign, 'Centennial Highway, Jericho'.
Moving to his desk, he swipes papers out of the way till he finds his map book. Searching the pages he finds Jericho with ease, and breathes a sigh of relief, somehow finding the fact that it's real town reassuring rather than frightening.
Adding the book to his duffle, Sam apologies one more time to Jess, with a quick kiss and a promise to call her as soon as he can, he's out the door.
With some effort Sam drags his thoughts away from Jess, standing he folds the newspaper article and slides it into his pocket. With one more cursory glance around the room, Sam leaves to grab his own belongings from the car.
Once he'd placed his clothes in his room and locked the door, Sam talks with the motel clerk and gets directions for Sylvania Bridge. Climbing back into the car, he pulls from the parking lot and drives towards the bridge.
From what the clerk had said Dad had obviously arrived in town before Dean, but Sam couldn't figure out why. Before he'd left for Stanford they'd always gone on hunts together. He supposed that Dean could be running his own hunts now, he was 26 after all, but that still didn't explain why they were both in town now, or why he couldn't reach either of them.
It didn't take long to reach his destination, and once the car was parked Sam walked onto the bridge. He had to stop and take a deep breath; this was definitely the place in his vision. It was different seeing it in the daylight, but there was no mistaking that this was the same bridge.
No sign of Dean now though, only one Deputy winding up some yellow tape. Kicking himself for not bringing any fake I.D, Sam heads towards the man, knowing that this isn't going to go as smoothly as it would if he could flash a badge.
"Excuse me" Sam says "Have you seen this man" Showing the Deputy the picture he had of Dean.
"Yeah, I saw him two days ago. Are you another Marshal?" He replies eyeing Sam suspiciously. Obviously not buying this, considering Sam is wearing jeans and a flannel shirt.
"Uh, no sir. He's my brother. He was in town on assignment, but our father has fallen ill and I haven't been able to reach him"
"Sorry to hear that, son, but I haven't seen him since"
"Okay, thanks for your time. By the way, did something happen here" Sam asks gesturing to the yellow tape.
"We've had some locals go missing, but that isn't anything for you to worry about" he replies, effectively ending the conversation.
Sam thanks the deputy again before heading back to the car. Now what, he thinks to himself. Pulling the newspaper clipping from his pocket, Sam scans the article again. Looking at a picture lower on the page, he notices that it's a photo of Joseph Welch, the husband of Constance.
Sure that Dean would've spoken with the man, Sam decides to venture out and see if this Joseph can add any more details to his investigation, really hoping that this next step will be the one that leads him to Dean. Before it's too late, he thinks before he can help it.