The New Road: A Supernatural Fanfic

Dreams

I sigh and slouch even farther into the backseat. After dinner and more research, the three of us had ended up back in the batmobile. Of course.

Thankfully it wasn't for nothing though. While at the crime scene, Sam was able to gather a lot of useful information; unlike Dean and me with Andre. Sam found a drugged handkerchief near where Andre's body was found; which is why he didn't remember anything during the attack. Sams thinks that the skinwalker-- whoever they are-- drugged Andre, stole his face, and then decided to slaughter the rest of the board.

However, the one good thing that we did get out of meeting up with Andre was that his business was shaky. With financials being one bad decision from bankruptcy, Dean and I concluded that it was the reason that we had never heard about this skinwalker until now.

That leads us back to our stakeout. With Andre at the top gone, and the rest of his board killed off, the next logical target would have been the next person in the chain of command.

With a simple flash of the badge, that information wasn't hard to get.

I let out another sigh, staring down the seemingly endless strip of seemingly identical houses, "So how long are we gonna be here?"

"Until we figure out what this-" Dean scans the manilla folder in his lap for the guy's name, "Oswald Marty guy, is up to."

This time with a groan, not a sigh, I try to stretch across the backseat. Seeing Dean's leather jacket beside me and being a naturally nosy person, I start going through his pockets. In one of the inner side pockets, my hand lingers on a handful of small pictures; each about the side of a notecard. The one on the top was a picture of a young boy and a woman with princess blonde curls. "Who's this?" I ask, leaning forward in the seat so Dean could also get a look.

"That's -- oh," He pauses, clearing his throat, "That's, uh, that's my mom."

I freeze up almost as badly as Dean. "Oh... She's pretty."

"Thanks," Dean solemnly grins in an expression I knew all too well, "she was."

"Is this your dad?" I ask, pulling out another photo; this time of a man around Dean's age. He was bent over the same Impala that I was currently sitting in.

Dean shifts in his seat. "Yeah. When he was younger."

I ask the question already knowing the answer: "Why don't you ever talk about them?"

"I don't know. Not much to say I guess." Dean says, shrugging his shoulders.

"Oh come on! We both know that's not true." I playfully elbow Sam to the right of me to try and get him involved. But he's staring down at the photo of their father, wearing the same terrified expression as his brother.

Dean puts down the manilla folder in his lap with a sigh, slightly exasperated. "Fine."

Turning in his seat, he pulls his legs up so he's facing me now, his back up against the driver's seat door. I'm facing him obviously in the back, though I'm stretched out across the entire seat.

Sam is the only one sitting normally, typing away at his computer, most likely finding us a case that we would have to go after as soon as we got done with this one.

Dean interlaces his fingers, "What do you want to know?"

I wiggle in the backseat like a small child waiting for storytime. "Everything... for starters, do you dream about them?"

Dean lowly chuckles, "As far as Dad goes... I dream about Dad all the time."

Sam meets eyes with his brother, his voice coming out small, "You do?"