Monachopsis

Chapter LIII: Pain

It became obvious pretty quickly that Sam's anger hadn't ebbed as the day went on. As Dean spoke on the phone with John in the front seat, I could see Sam becoming less and less patient. His knuckles went white around the steering wheel. By the time Dean ended his call he was practically seething.

"Yeah, Dad," Dean said. "Alright, got it." He hung up and turned to Sam. "Pull off the next exit."

"Why?" Sam clipped.

"'Cause Dad thinks we got the vampires' trail," Dean answered.

"How?"

"I don't know," Dean admitted. "He didn't say."

Sam didn't say anything else. The sound of the engine revving rumbled through the frame. My pulse jumped as we sped up.

"Sam?" I asked uneasily.

He didn't answer. Dean tossed me a wide-eyed look over his shoulder as the sleek black frame of John's truck--nearly invisible in the night--and then his bright headlights flashed behind us. Sam pulled in front of him, then yanked the wheel to the left. Tires squealed as both the Impala and the truck came to a sudden stop.

My heart pounded. We had stopped in the middle of the road, blocking both lanes. Sam didn't even bother cutting the engine as he shoved his door open and stormed out.

"Oh, crap," Dean moaned. "Here we go."

"Sam!" My heart jumped again as John Winchester's voice boomed, echoing even through the forest that bordered the road. "What the hell was that?"

"We need to talk," Sam said.

I was out of the car in an instant. Dean was right behind me. He caught me before I could get around him and cautioned me to stay back as he approached them. Sam and John were standing chest to chest. It was surreal, seeing the two of them squaring off. Sam towered over his father, but John was fuller. Sam was younger and faster, John more skilled and experienced. If it came to a fight, I wondered who would win.

"About what?" John demanded.

"About everything," Sam snapped. "Where are we going, Dad? What's the big deal about this gun?"

"We can Q&A after we kill all the vampires," Dean said. The two of them were too close for him to stand between them, but he stood close enough to jump in if it got violent.

The tension was riling me up. Adrenaline was replacing the fear in my veins. Boldly, I started towards them.

"Your brother's right," John growled. "We don't have time for this."

"Last time you saw us, you said it was too dangerous to be together," Sam told him. "Wasn't that the whole point of you dumping Gray with us? Why you dragged her from her home and left her mother for dead? Now, out of the blue, you need our help. Obviously something big's going down, and we want to know what!"

"Get back in the car," was what John said. I halted. The heat in my chest came to a boil. Even when confronted with what he had done to my mother, he refused to even act like he cared; like he felt guilty about any of it. Of course, why would he? My mother wasn't Mary.

"No," Sam said.

John took a step closer. Sam didn't budge. "I said get back in the damn car." His voice was low now, almost dangerous.

"Yeah," Sam murmured. "And I said no."

My mind went blank. Before I could have any more thoughts, I shoved myself between them. I shoved John back with both hands flat on his chest. He grunted, caught off guard, but didn't fall. His face, for the first time, twisted in anger. He took a single step forward.