Darkened Warriors - Lost Spirits

Chapter 4 Part 2

“And pie I see, thanks.” I decided to let Dean off the hook and follow his lead.

“Fair's fair,” Dean replied with a small nod, “You bought my favorite, I get you yours.”

I squeezed his shoulder as I walked by and sat next to him, “I didn't buy you a whole one.”

“Who said all of this was for you?”

“So, I'm going to have to fight Sam for a piece and you get the rest?”

He nodded as he took a drink of soda, “Yup, that's the plan.”

Sam had stayed sullen and silent throughout this whole exchange. He took a few more bites of food, gathered his plate and stood up, “I'll meet you guys at the cars when you're ready to go, I need a walk. I'll have them pack this to go.” Then he left without another word.

I uncovered my plate, saw my food was still warm and tried the chicken. My taste buds immediately thanked me for it. “Damn!”

“Yeah. The couple that own the place know how to cook,” Dean agreed with me.

“Everything ok?” I asked between bites.

The cars were in view of Dean and I and we watched Sam stride down the street.

“Not really, but nothing you can do to help. He was filling me on what you were talking about. You heard my answer.”

“Did he tell you about the vision?”

He put his napkin over the now empty plate and finally focused his attention on me. “Yeah. I don't really want to know what you saw. I imagine it wasn't beer and beaches related.”

That brought up a good memory, “Unfortunately no, and I don't think we have time to relive that night. Sam said he has visions now.”

His face grew somber, “Did, does, who knows? I can't keep track anymore. He's...well, never mind.” Sorrow touched his eyes and he rubbed his hand across his face like he was trying to gather his thoughts. “Look, if this Rising Dove of yours insists we have to do this ceremony, fine. I owe you from before and Sam and I brought this down on your family. I don't like it but it is what it is. Fair enough?”

“Fair, but Dean this is no go to church, say your prayers and leave an hour later. This is intense.” He needed to fully understand what it meant, “It's, look, we believe the Spirits themselves can talk to us, through us, during all this. It's not something to walk into lightly.” I wished I had never said those words, every part of his face stilled, there was no warmth, no life, no soul in him.

“You don't know what Sam and I have been dealing with for the past year so I'm going to let that comment slide. I'm not trying to offend you but your spirits have nothing on demons and I never walk into anything lightly, not anymore. Enjoy the pie, save some for me.”

He got up and followed after Sam, leaving me alone with my thoughts, which are not the best company to share pie with. I savored the food, it was really that good. I'm not a food critic or anything, but when the potato salad you're eating makes you close your eyes and chew slowly just to get all the flavors you know there's something special about it. I lack the vocabulary to accurately describe the pie and I have a college education. I knew that the brothers would need some time to get their acts together, I had never seen them this intense or conflicted before. This trip was getting more and more challenging as it went.

 I saw them coming back up the street, just as I was scraping the last bit of my slice of pie onto my fork. I gathered up my dishes and the pie and went inside. The middle aged couple who ran the place were behind the counter. The woman had short, curly, blonde hair, hazel eyes which seemed to always be smiling even if she wasn't and freckles on her pale face. She walked with a slight limp but still managed to be bustling around behind the counter. The man that I assume was her husband was taller, with gentle green eyes, well worn but strong hands, tanned skin and mousy brown hair that was long enough to brush his collar. He kept one eye on his wife and managed to  be right where she needed him to be if she needed to reach up for something or pick something up. It was obvious they cared for each other and were completely content being exactly where they were in life.