Roads of Reckoning

Pilot

2005: San Diego, California.
I unlock the front door to the diner and with a yawn, close it behind me. The clock behind the counter reads 6:34am. We open at 8. Shrugging off my coat I turn on the heater. It's chilly outside. Almost winter.

I've worked in this diner for three years now. Each more agonising than the last. But it's enough to get my by. Each day is the same as the last. The regulars come in for their morning coffee on the way to work while truckers and tourists stop for a bite to eat during their travels. I look at the clock again and sigh. It's only 6:52am.
•——————————————————————-•
By 3:25pm the diner had quietened down. I hear the bell on the door ring as someone enters. I grab my note pad and whirl around with a half assed smile on my face.
"Hey there what can I get for you today?" I ask without looking up.
"That's no way to greet an old friend"
I look up and freeze. It can't be him. It's been 10 years. Dean Winchester is seated on the barstool in front of me. Hands clasped together with a smirk across his face.
"What are you doing here?" I look him up and down. He's grown. Leather jacket, short hair and still wearing that stupid necklace.
"Come on Dem. At least pretend to be excited to see me. Can I not visit my buddy?" He pokes.
"Don't call me that. Why are you are you really here?" I cross my arms in front of my body unimpressed. He has no right to just show up here without years of contact.
"Fine. You got me. Listen Demi. I need your help." His tone now serious. I raise my eyebrows.
"It's my dad. He went out on a hunt and hasn't been home in a while. I'm starting to think somethings gone wrong." I shake my head.
"No, Dean I'm sorry but I'm out. I have been for 5 years. I'm done." He furrows his brow, surprised by my answer.
"I don't hunt anymore. I'm sorry about your dad but I can't help you. I'm sure it will be fine. He always finds his way home." Dean doesn't say anything but looks at me, slightly defeated.
"Where is Sam anyway?" The younger Winchester is no where to be seen now that I think about it. They are always joined at the hip.
"He's... busy." I give him a quizzical look.
"Fine." Dean says. "He doesn't know." He fiddles with the napkin in front of him.
"He's at Stanford. Studying...or something. I don't know. I haven't seen him in three years. You were my last resort before I went to him." He looks back up at me and I can tell that this bothers him. I sigh again.
"Look Dean, I'm sorry, again. But I can't help you. I promised myself that I would walk away from hunting and I want it to stay that way. I hope your dad is ok, really. But I just can't. I'm sorry. Maybe you should contact Sam?"
Dean looks at me, defeated. He sighs and stand up from the bench.
"Worth a shot I guess."
As he's walking away I call out.
"Wait!" I pull a napkin towards me and write my cell number down. Dean walk back to the counter and picks it up.
"Call me if you have any updates." I give him a small smile and he returns it. Pocketing the napkin he leaves the diner, bell on the door ringing.
•———————————————————————•
Two days later I get a call from an unknown number on my cell. I hesitate and then pick up.
"Hello?"
"Hey Dem, it's Dean." I run my hand across my face. I was hoping not to get this call. To not hear from him again.
"Hey what's up? Any updates?" Please say no.
"Yep! We are pulling into town now." Before I can say anything, the black, 1967 Chevrolet Impala pulls into the diner parking lot. I stifle a groan and hang up as they get out of the car.

Sam and Dean come through the door of the diner. Dean is wearing the same clothes as when I saw him last and behind him walks Sam. I always had a bit of a crush on Sam when we were growing up. Our dads hunted together, up until my parent's death. He's grown up too. Tall (has to be six foot), chiseled features and he's grown out his hair. Stanford has changed him. I give him a small smile.
"Hey Sam. Long time." He smiles back.
"I know. How have you been?"
"Good~" I start, but I'm cut off by Dean.
"No time for formalities. We have work to do." I roll my eyes and cross my arms. "What's this got to do with me? I told you I'm not helping."
Sam looks to his brother with a pissed off look. Seems like I'm not the only one not interested.
"Come on! Just one more case. I have to have Sam back by Monday anyway." Dean says with a look to his brother. I stand and look between the two. It's been five years with no contact from either of them. It must be important for them to come to me.
I uncross my arms with a defeated sigh.
"Fine. One more. But I want to be back by Tuesday. You're lucky I have this weekend off. What are we looking at." Dean has a stupid grin on his face.
•———————————————————————•
"So Dad was checking out this two-lane blacktop just outside of Jericho, California. About a month ago~" Dean hands me a small stack of papers. "~ They found his car, but he'd vanished. Completely M.I.A."
"Maybe he was kidnapped." I look up from the article. Sam looks and Dean with an I told you so look. I continue to sift through the papers.
"Yeah well there's another one in April. Another one in December '04, '03, '98, '92. Ten of them over the past twenty years." I look up with a raised eyebrow.
"All men. All the same five~mile stretch of road." Dean looks to Sam and I with a grin, quite proud of himself.
I sigh as I place down the articles. Looking between the two brothers.
"Fine. I get off at 6pm. Meet me at my apartment at 7pm." I scrawl down my address and Dean swipes it off the table and jumps out of his seat.
"See ya then!" And walks out. Sam trailing behind him. I put my head in my hands.
What am I getting myself into...