The Winchester Three (S3): The Aftermath

Ch 10 Section 5

Six months later:

Through the six months after the murder of his brother and sister Sam had engulfed himself in hunting. He buried all of his agonizing grief filled feelings and ignored all of Bobby's attempts at communication as he hunted as well as obsessed over his search for the trickster.

"Sam? It's Bobby. Heard about that demon thing you took care of in Death Valley. Nice job. Been about three months we talked, though. Be nice to hear your voice. Give a call. I'm here."

Sam spent that six months killing every monster he came across. The only thing he could think about was the obsession he had for finding the trickster. He patched up his own wounds and had very little regard for running head first into dangerous hunts alone. Never once answering any of Bobby's phone calls or returning his voicemails. In every motel he stayed in he filled the walls with maps, newspaper clippings and security camera stills featuring the Trickster, arranged in neat lines with none overlapping.

"Sam? Bobby again. Look, I'm worried about you. Just tell me you're not sitting alone somewhere obsessing over this damn Trickster. Call me, Sam. We can find it together. No one man should take something like this on alone. You hear me? By the way, that vampire nest in Austin, hell of a job."

"Sam? It's Bobby. I found him."

At the Mystery Spot, late at night...

Bobby was kneeling on the floor turning the pages of a book, which was dead center of a chalked diagram. It had three candles and three bowls of unidentified substances surrounding it.

When Sam entered the room behind him, Bobby stood, "It's good to see you, boy."

He hugged Sam, who didn't respond to that sentiment, "What are we doing here, Bobby?"

"Well, it's the last place we're sure the Trickster worked his magic."

"So?"

"So you want this thing?" He turned and walked back towards the outline, "I found a summoning ritual to bring the Trickster here."

Sam looked from the outline to Bobby expressionless, "What do we need?"

"Blood."

"How much blood?"

"Ritual says near a gallon. And it's gotta be fresh, too."

Sam paused as his eyebrows raised a little, "Meaning we have to bleed a person dry."

"And it's gotta be tonight..." Bobby nodded, "Or not for another fifty years."

"Then let's go get some."

Sam turned to leave, but Bobby didn't move. Sam noticed and turned back from heading to the door.

Sadness filled the older man's face as he shook his head, "You break my heart, kid."

"What?"

"I'm not gonna let you murder an innocent man."

"Then why'd you bring me here?"

"Why? 'Cause it was the only way you'd see me! 'Cause I'm trying to knock some sense into you! 'Cause I thought you'd back down from killing a man!"

"Well, you thought wrong." Sam glared dejectedly as Bobby stepped closer to him, "Leave the stuff, I'll do it myself."

"I told you, I'm not gonna let you kill-"

Sam shouted at him angrily, "It's none of your damn business what I do!"

Bobby's eyes widened at the anger and rage in his voice and eyes, "You want your brother and sister back so bad?" He leaned down and pulled a knife out of his bag before holding it up to Sam, "Fine."