Longhorn

Chapter 11 | Changed Scuffle

┍━☽【❖】☾━┑

Dean

┕━☽【❖】☾━┙

You've changed.

So much.

He knows what they did was wrong. It's a weight on his chest he fears will never leave.

He grasps at small bits of relief you give them; staying in their motel room, but refusing to be in the room when John was there; not getting angry when he sat next to you in a diner booth; letting his fingers brush against yours without trying to rip them off.

You're all in Manning, Colorado, and for the first time in two weeks, you're in the same room as their father.

The three of you are in John's motel room, located just to the left of yours. The walls are covered in research and information on the yellow-eyed demon; weather charts, hieroglyphs, pictures, newspaper articles, written notes, a shelf of books, and a shit ton more.

John sits at a desk covered in papers, the Colt you nabbed from the nest in front of him. He's been kinder to you since you returned it to him, but Dean doesn't miss the loathing in his eyes when your back is turned. You don't either.

Dean's pacing around the room, Sam's leaned up against the counter, and you're sat at the foot of the bed, foot anxiously tapping against the floor while you gnaw on your fingernails.

"So this is it," John says. His hands wave over the papers in front of him. "This is everything I know."

You audibly suck in a breath. "The demon?" you whisper.

He nods, barely glancing your way. "Look, we've been searching for this demon, right? Not a trace. Just... nothing." He spits the word out, glaring at the papers. Dean worries for a second if they'll catch on fire. "Until about a year ago. For the first time, I picked up a trail."

Dean nods, his pacing slowing, but not stopping. "And that's when you took off."

"Yeah, that's right." John looks at him, a glimmer of apology in his eyes. He'd left Dean alone, not knowing if he'd gather up Sam or die alone on a case. "The demon must've come out of hiding."

Your head shoots up, eyes wide. "Or hibernation."

"All right," Dean says. He sits next to you, his hand coming to fall on your knee to stop the bouncing. You stiffen, and your fingers twitch like you're about to smack the shit out of him, but you don't. You let him be. "So what's this trail you found?"

John moves his arm to point at the map on the far side of the table, finger trailing the written lines as he talks. "It starts in Arizona, then New Jersey, California... Houses burned down to the ground. It's going after families, just like it went after us."

"Families with infants?" Sam's voice is rough, a dark edge to it as he speaks.

"Yeah. The night of the kid's six-month birthday."

His brother's brows furrow. "I was six months old that night?"

John nods. "Six months exactly."

"So, basically," Sam starts, moving away from the counter. "This demon is going after kids for some reason. The same way it came for me? So Mom's death... Jessica, it's all because of me?"

Dean frowns, staring at his brother. "We don't know that, Sam."

"Oh, really?" he scoffs. He's getting upset, but Dean knows he's scared. Scared that these kids and families dying is resting on his shoulders. "Cause I'd say we're pretty damn sure, Dean."