The Code

Chapter 4

Kendricks Academy, 1990

As Mick's 16th birthday approached, Tori had taunted him with the present she had planned. So he'd been slightly let down when she handed him a leather-bound journal and fancy, pearl-handled pen at dinner, with all of their friends around.

They'd already made plans to meet in the storage room after dinner, so when he arrived and she was there, with the blanket already laid out, he tried hard to hide his disappointment. "Thanks again for the journal," he told her, trying to sound cheerful.

She grinned at him. "You think that was your present?" she asked.

"It wasn't?" he asked, shocked.

Laughing, she patted a spot on the blanket beside her, and he sat down. She leaned towards him and wrapped her arms around his neck, giving him a kiss. "Nope," she said as she sat back up.

He waited, but she didn't offer any explanation. "So are you going to tell me what it is?" he asked finally.

Giggling softly, she started to undo the buttons of her blouse. "Guess," she said as she pulled it off and lay it on the shelf beside her.

Mick watched as she reached around to undo her bra and let it slip off her shoulders. After that, it all became a blur.

* * *

Casper, Wyoming, Present Day

"Man! With this sweet thing back, and a pretty much unlimited supply of ammunition, I feel frigging invincible!" Dean crowed as he turned the Impala out of the motel driveway. "I mean, seriously Sammy: when do you remember a hunt being such a thing of beauty?"

Sam smirked at his brother. "You mean when I saved your ass? Is that the thing of beauty you're referring to?"

"Details, details." Dean reached over and turned up the stereo, blasting AC/DC through the car.

Sam leaned back against his seat, closing his eyes to try and get some sleep. After so many years of being in the car with his older brother he was able to sleep through anything - even Brian Johnson screeching through "Thunderstruck." But before he really dozed off, his phone vibrated in his pocket. He shifted in his seat, deciding to ignore it for now.

He tried - but the buzzing kept coming - about every 30 seconds or so - until he couldn't take it anymore and pulled it out to look at it.

"Who is it?" Dean asked, casting his eyes over to Sam's phone.

"It's Eileen," Sam mumbled. He wasn't in the mood for brotherly teasing right now.

For once, Dean seemed to sense this and wisely kept his smart-ass comments to himself. "How's she doing?" he asked. "Still in Ireland?"

Sam shook his head, then brushed back the hair that had fallen in his eyes. "No, she's been moving around. Says this is the last she can text me until she can get a different phone." He read the last text message and felt his shoulders tense up. "She thinks someone is after her."

"The Brits?" Dean asked, his voice hard and brittle. He gripped the steering wheel tighter, the same grip he used when wielding the demon knife.

Sam frowned. "She doesn't say, but I think that's a pretty safe assumption after what happened with Daegon and that wannabe Draco Malfoy."

"Dude, your geek is showing," Dean said with a roll of his eyes. "Tell her to go to the safe house in Montreal." This was one of their many code names for the Bunker, not often used, but Eileen would know what they meant.

Sam nodded as he typed back to her. While he waited for another response he took a deep breath and tapped his foot impatiently. He stared out the window at the scenery, wishing there was something more interesting to look at than trees.