1996

Kansas Heat

Lawrence was never a busy town, planted in the middle of nowhere Kansas. There were no tourists, no shopping malls, just acres of yellowed farmland and dry meadows.

     Summer in the midwest was dry and exhausting, Dean was out back working on an old truck for some extra cash. Black t-shirt clinging to him like a second skin, blue jeans covered in grease and blood. His mind still reeling in aftershocks from last nights hunt. Werewolves were nasty, but a whole pack was deadly. Their ferocious loyalty reminded Dean too much of himself, how they were ruthless once a member was hurt. Days like this he wished he could be a kid, a real kid again. He'd stabbed, gutted, and burnt too many monsters to count. The weight kept his head down, bowing in submission to the life his father chose for him.

     The night the Winchester house went up in flames was just about the most exciting thing that had ever happened in their small town. Dean remembers it only in fire and the smell of ash, echoing screams, flashing police lights, and the feeling of Sam's tiny body in his arms.

      It was not town gossip for John, Dean or Sam. That night the boys lost the only chance at happiness they had. Their community held desperately onto the tragedy because it was something to talk about; the grieving senile widower and his sons.

      Early life in Lawrence was full of wide pitying eyes, casseroles left on the porch, and the boys counting the second they could get away from it all. It twisted his stomach in knots every time a well meaning housewife would tell him he had his mother's eyes. Thank you, he always said when he really wanted to say fuck you.

     It should be Dean's senior year now, had he not just dropped out of the only high school within a 20 mile radius the past winter. School was never for him, he hated being stuck in a pit of bible thumping morons who had never seen a glimpse of pain beyond sunburn from working the fields in July. Dean was seventeen and he was finally a full time hunter, following in John's footsteps like an obedient soldier. He wasn't entitled, or boastful about it, he was jealous. So jealous of their full families and white fences, photo albums and sports teams. Their ignorance to the darkest parts of this world. The parts that Dean saw every time he closed his eyes to sleep at night.

      Dean threw his towel down, walking over to the shed to sit in the shade. The dry wood creaked as he rested his weight on the stairs. Besides scattered farms, the cornfields ahead were clear and vast. Kansas was free and open but beyond that, the emptiness felt suffocating. He pulled out a pack of reds and lit one up. Dean swallowed his smoke and pride, though. Puffing and drinking away his pain just like dad taught him. But, alone with only the nauseating heat of the sun and the sound of locust, he understood his brother.

      Sam didn't like their dad, Dean knew this. He didn't like the way he drank, or talked, or yelled, or never comforted them like he should. Sammie wanted a normal life, wanted college, a nine-to-five, a wife and kids. How a thirteen year old could know all that, he wasn't sure. And, Dean would never say it aloud, but damn he wanted that for his little brother. He wished he could toss the little Einstein out on the street just to get him away from monsters under his bed. Part of Dean wanted that too, but he gave up on that the night he heard his mother's last words-just screams.

      He snuffed the dart out on the bottom of his boot, tapping out on work for the day. Some of the older kids in town were having a field party tonight, Dean was fully planning to drink the flashbacks of fire, werewolf teeth, and blood out of his system.

      Once Dean got out of the shower, he put a clean shirt and headed downstairs. Sam was back from the library, sitting on the couch in the living room, swallowed by Dean's hand-me-down flannel. John had been out all day, Dean knew he wasn't coming home. He and Bobby were planning to find the feral omega that slipped past them during the fight. Dean felt bad that Sam had so many night like this, he did too, no dinner and no goodnights. It always hurt to say, "Sammy, l'm going out tonight."

      "Okay." Sam didn't flinch, just kept flipping through some book, not bothering to even look at his brother. His shyness was something Dean didn't get, he didn't laugh away his pain or pretend to be happy. He just swallowed it, stuffed his head between pages and bit his fingernails bloody. They all have their vices, Dean was happy Sam's was reading and not something far more poisonous.

      "There's leftovers, don't stay up too late." Dean ruffled up the kid's hair and was on his way, cigarette dangling out his mouth as he hopped in one of their pick-ups. Dean found he preferred the nights, driving alone with the radio on. Letting the houses and fields blend together and smear in his windows.

      Sunset made the heat worth it, just for that hour when the sky turns every possible color, spreading across cloudless air with the sun eating away at the West. Dean pulled up to Katie's house as darkness swallowed the countryside. He followed a Camry through the dirt driveway that wrapped to the back of the property. It was already filled with cars and kids throwing beer boxes into the fire. Dean lit his fag and hopped out, tucking his white shirt into his pants. He was no more than a few steps toward the crowd when the enthusiastic brunette hurled into his arms.

      "Dean! You made it!" She was gorgeous, all big doe eyes and freckles with dark curls. Dimpled and curvy, Dean didn't have to go out of his way to get women but Katie had been a hard catch. Eleven years of school together, three years of flirting, to finally get her to respond. Tonight was the night, church girl's parents out of town for the county agriculture fair, her first party. Dean should be excited, but every time one of those football fucks screamed, he jumped in his boots, skin crawling. The Kansas heat felt like a wolf breathing on the back his neck.

      Dean forced a smile as the girl drug him to the keg, pouring out a beer for both of them. The kids around them were the ones Dean couldn't seem to get away from, despite his best attempts. These guys who bully Sammy, these girls who never really cared for him beyond a pity lay. Dean downed his beer quickly, pouring another for himself.

      The night faded into a drunken blur quickly. The flask in his pocket getting lighter and lighter as his stomach filled with whiskey. Katie had pulled him into the barn, kissing all over his neck. She was short so he picked her up, in an attempt to press her against the wall he fumbled. The dark space behind them became alive and began growling. Next thing he knew he was on his ass, the door slammed shut and he was alone.

       Suddenly the booze weighed him down, he felt glued to the hay and dirt. The growling was louder now, the darkness only broken by a streak of fire light coming in through the cracks in the door. In the brief light he saw yellow eyes and gnashing teeth. His skin went cold and he heaved onto the ground, standing weakly and fighting the way his knees wanted to buckle. He stumbled out of the barn and out into the field, avoiding the swarm of singing and screaming teenagers.

      Standing in the open meadow, the stars seemed brighter than the did looking out his window. Orion's belt glittered against the black void. He squinted a bit, the stars seemed blinding and then a single shooting star crossed the sky. White, nearly blue against the darkness.  It kept going, growing brighter. Dean looked around and found himself yards from the party, the stereo and conversation nothing but a distant echo.

      He felt detached, more like a freak now than ever. The star seemed to be a comet, but Sam was a nerd and Dean couldn't remember him talking about a meteor shower tonight.

      Dean's ivy green eyes were glittering in the reflection of the icy white star. Widening as the comet fell to earth. Just at that moment, across the field a tree caught fire, like it was struck by lightning on a cloudless night. He swore this couldn't have all been the Jack Daniels. At this point, Dean had forgotten about werewolves, about Katie. He wiped his mouth and headed further into the cornfield, determined to follow the hazy glue blow on he horizon.