Born Under a Bad Sign // Supernatural

five

born under a bad sign: five

There were empty beer bottles covering the room, the lights down low and the laptop screen blinking into the gloom. There were papers everywhere, newspaper clippings strung up on the wall with different colour thread connecting them to picture and blurbs of text. A man sits hunched over the laptop, his eyes squinted at the bright screen, his facial hair is overgrown and his body odour pungent.

Sam knows this man to be his father, but even for him, his actions drastic. He hadn't seen the light of day in half a week, take out, coffee and beer had been his only intake.

"Dad, this is getting ridiculous." Dean announces, he wasn't one to normally speak out against their father, everything the man did was what Dean took as law but Dean detested to hear about his mother; a subject their dad had never once not mentioned over the past three days.

"I'll find them, I will." John snapped in response, Dean looked away, his emotions concealed by a stony mask. Sam slipped past his brother and into the motel room, he was chilled by the cold North Dakota winds. He pulled his puffy jacket off and threw it into the end of his bed.

Normally, Sam would take the couch but because John wasn't sleep very much over these past days, he'd been able to take a bed. Dean crosses the room and leans against the motel sink of a makeshift kitchen, his green eyes watching Sam.

"Sam."

Sam looks to his father and realised that he's drunk, his eyes hooded and a little red. He waves an arm in beckoning, Sam slowly walks to John's side and sits down on the other side of the couch.

"You know how your m-mother died?" He slurred, eyes slow and words even more so. Sam nods.

How could he not know? A serial killer who'd been travelling around the country, killing mostly infants but also anyone who got in the way. They called him yellow eyes, anyone who'd seen him and lived to tell the tale. He liked to nail his victims to the walls, paint the ceilings with their blood then if he was feeling creative burn the house down. Sam didn't understand why yellow eyes had gone after his mother Mary, he just knew that since her death, his father had never been the same.

"I'm going to find him S-Sammy...and I'm gunna' kill him." John drawls, Sam nods a little stiffly. He couldn't quite understand why his father cared so much John killed people all the time, so does Sam, so does Dean. Why should Mary's death mean so much? Perhaps John had felt the same way towards Mary that Sam does Dean, but then Sam didn't think he'd spend his whole life tracking Dean's killer.

"Dad, perhaps you should get some rest." Dean chipped in, John turned on him as a creature of burning rage.

"He killed her, boy! I will find him! I will kill him!" John's body shook, spittle flying from between his lips. He threw a empty bottle against the wall, it shattered with a crack, and charged at Dean.

"You hear me boy?" He roared, Dean nods hastily and he's released.

Sam slips around to the broken glass. Dean is leaning against the sink, his father before him. John's face is wet, and it take Sam a second to realise he's crying. Tears, streams of them rolling down his face until he lets out a writhed sob.

He looks to Sam, meets his eye and begins to laugh. A cruel, cold laughter of a bitter and lonely man, he falls to his knees with the hysterical laughter. Sam tilts his head ever so slightly, the broken figure of his father making a spectre before him.

He's jolted from his thoughts by the slamming of the door, left in Dean's wake.

Hey lovelies!

I hope you enjoyed but I'm very sorry for the wait! Please leave your thoughts! :D

Love Percy xx