Monachopsis

Chapter LXI: To The Front Lines

Sam and John were waiting for us on the outskirts of town. John had parked his truck down a dirt road beneath a raised railway line. It had rained while we were at the antique shop, and the Impala's tires splashed in the muddy puddles as we drove. For the first time, Dean didn't complain about the mess.

Sam and John were just finishing up restocking John's weapon case when we pulled up. Dean shut off the engine and we got out, the new gun tucked safely in the inside of Dean's jacket. 

"Did you get it?" John asked as soon as he turned around.

Dean reached into his jacket and produced the brown paper bag Axon had dropped the gun in. He said, "Yeah. You missed out on some pretty awesome Gray Winchester charm."

Sam furrowed his eyebrows. "What happened?"

"What happened is that baby sister over here completely destroyed the misogynist gun counter guy with some major gun facts. Guy practically had a stroke." Dean's smile was wide and smug, like he had known all along that I was his secret weapon.

I rolled my eyes, "It wasn't that great. Guy was just a dick." I ignored the way my heart fluttered when he said 'baby sister'. He had never called me that before.

John completely ignored our banter, taking the paper bag from Dean and took out the gun. 

Dean shifted his weight. "You know this is a trap, don't you? That's why Meg wants you to come alone."

The giddiness from my victory at the antique shop vanished. The reality of our situation descended on my shoulders again. John was heading to another state to give a demon a fake gun, and my brothers and I were responsible for taking out the demon that killed our mothers.

John inspected the gun. It was a beautiful piece, in excellent condition, given that it was over a hundred years old. John looked up from the gun, satisfied, and said, "I can handle her. I got a whole arsenal loaded--holy water, mandaic amulets--"

"An arsenal like that doesn't matter if it's just you against a horde of demons," I said. Flashes of my mother's final moments flickered across my mind. Last minute panic shot up my spine. "Let me come with you. Sam and Dean have it handled here."

"No," John said immediately. "I need to go alone, Gray, you know that. This plan won't work if Meg finds out I have you stashed in the back seat. You need to stay here, help your brothers. I'll be fine."

"Dad," Dean said, cutting him off.

"What?" John clipped, turning his attention to him.

"Promise me something," Dean said. 

"What's that?" John asked, tone softening.

"This thing goes south, just get the hell out," Dean said. "Don't get yourself killed, alright? You're no good to us dead.

Dean's manner was a brusque as always. But his voice broke on the word 'dead'. He was saying what all three of us were thinking. If John died, we'd lose our only parent to revenge. That ending sounded bitter even to me.

John nodded. "Same goes for you." I think John meant the words to be reassuring. But a quick glance at both my brothers confirmed that we were all looking at him like it would be the last time we'd see him. He continued, "Alright, listen to me. They made the bullets special for this Colt. There's only four of them left. Without them, this gun is useless. You make every shot count." He looked at each of us in turn.

"Yes, sir," Sam said lowly. His brown was drawn over his eyes in a harsh expression.

In the distance, a train horn wailed.