Riding the Fence (A Supernatural FanFic)

Part Seven

(Saturday)

It was well before 5 am when Dean woke with a start and for a moment panicked trying to remember where he was. The bedroom that he and Sam had shared many times throughout their lives was still dark, grayed out by the pre-dawn light, but Dean could just make out the single bed beside him where his brother would normally be sleeping. To see it empty now brought a chill to Dean’s skin and he pulled the comforter up over his shoulders and tried to bury himself back into the warmth of the bed.

Try as he might, sleep seemed to want to evade him and when the morning sun filtered in to the room Dean realized that he had been staring at his brother’s vacant bed for some time. Sam's navy-blue and gray comforter was folded in half and lying at the foot of the bed over top of pale yellow rose sheets worn thin from years of use. As feminine and hideous as they were the boys had never complained about them, always grateful for clean sheets and a real bed. As well as having their own bed, they also had their own pillows. Not the flat uncomfortable pillows that the motel rooms carried. No, these were soft and plush and specifically belonged to each of the boys.

Dean buried his face into his pillow trying to block out the feeling in his gut, a knot that wouldn't go away.

Bobby would tell him later that he was just missing his brother, but Dean knew better.  Something was happening and he wasn't sure what that something was but he couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn't good.

All throughout breakfast Dean pushed food around on his plate, never eating more than 3 bites. It did not go unnoticed. Josey sat down at the table next to him, looping an arm around his shoulders and pulled him into her side.

"What’s up, sugar? You’ve hardly touched your food.”

"Not hungry I guess," he answered.

"No such thing," she replied, "care to try again?"

She wasn't giving an inch, not ready to back down without a fight.

"He’s been like this all morning," Bobby stated taking a sip of his coffee, giving Dean a pointed look over his cup.

"Honey, you can talk to us.”

Josey rubbed a warm hand in circles across his back and briefly, Dean felt like he could sink into her embrace for a lifetime, aching for a touch like hers that so resembled his memory of his mother’s touch.

“Is this…about last night?" she asked tentatively.

"What?” Deans eyes widened briefly in panic, “Nooo,” he answered emphatically, nonetheless pulling away from Josey, feeling suddenly very uncomfortable being that close to her.

“It’s about his brother,” Bobby added without looking up from his own breakfast, “thinks he’s got some kind of gut feeling, ESP-type crap when it comes to his brother.”

“Yeah and I’m not wrong too often, am I?” Dean hissed, leaning deep over the table between them.

Bobby likewise, leaned over the table, his hands pressing firmly into the table top like he was about to use it as leverage to launch himself at Dean.

“I didn’t say you were,” he growled in return, “but you haven’t raised a hand to call your Dad yet either, have you?”

“And why haven’t you called him?” Josey accused, choosing to side with Dean.

“Cuz he told me not to.” Bobby raised his hand, gesturing at Dean, who was already shaking his head in disagreement. 

“If Dad wanted me to know, he’d have called by now.”