Roads of Reckoning

Provenance

Mid June, 2006
I roll my eyes as Dean leans against the bar, flirting with some blonde chic. Sam mutters to himself and looks over the papers strewn across the table. He looks up and waves Dean over who holds up a finger, telling him to wait. I glare at him and he gets the hint, coming over, beers in hand.

"Alright. I think we got something." Sam says.

Dean glances back at the bar. "Oh yeah me too. I think we need to take some shore leave guys, just a little bit. What do you think huh?" He looks back to us. "I'm so in the door with this one."

I scoff and roll my eyes.
"So what are we today Dean? I mean, are we rock starts? Are we army rangers?" I poke.

He grins.
"Reality TV scouts, looking for people with special skills. I mean hey, it's not that far off right?" He looks to Sam.
"By the way, she's got a friend over there. Possible hook you up. What do you think?"

"Dean, no thanks. I can get my own dates." Sam sighs.

"Yeah you can, but you don't."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Sam glares.

Dean glances to me and clears his throat.
"Nothing. What you got?"

"Mark and Ann Telesca of New Paltz, New York were both found dead in their own home, a few days ago." Sam says. "Throats were slit. There were no prints, no murder weapons all..." he trails off when he notices Dean's gaze back at the bar.

I snap my fingers in front of Dean's face and he glares at me.

"Dean. No prints, no murder weapons, all doors and windows locked from the inside." I finish.

"Could just be a garden variety murder you know, not our department." He takes a sip of his beer.

"No. Dad says different." Sam says.

This captures Dean's attention.
"What do you mean?"

Sam points at a map.
"Dad noted three murders in the same area of upstate New York. First on in 1912, second one right here in 1945 and the third in 1970, the same M.O as the Telescas. Their throats were slit, doors were locked from the inside. Now so much time had passed between murders that nobody checked the pattern, except Dad."

"Alright, I'm with ya. It's worth checking out. We can't pick this up til first thing though right?"

Sam nods rubbing a hand over his face.
"Yeah."

Dean jumps up from his seat without another word and goes back to the bar. The girls giggle at his return. Losers. I finish my beer and look back to Sam.

"Those poor girls. Their hopes are so high."
Sam chuckles, looking away from his brother.

"Do you wanna head back to the room? I don't think Dean will be joining us for a while." He says. I nod and we gather up the papers, giving Dean one last wave before we go.

I slump onto the bed and Sam does the same across from me. He looks over at me as I open my journal and I catch his gaze on the pages.

"Hey! Eyes away mister. Your father's journal may be an open book but mines not." I angle it away from him.

His mouth turns into a lopsided grin.
"What? Surely I get best friend privileges?"
I ignore him and continue writing about the shrtiga we hunted a few weeks back. We sit in silence for a while, only our breathing and the scratching on my pen filling the void. I feel his eyes on my and look up just in time to catch him looking to the wall.

He clears his throat and finally speaks up.
"We should um...probably check out the Telesca's place tomorrow."

"Yeah, sounds like a plan."
I goes quiet again.