The Supernatural Diaries {Book One}

162 Candles: Follow the Amulet

Damon shook his head vigorously. "No, no. You didn't do anything wrong," he began, easing Dean's nerves slightly.

"Then, what is it?" the green-eyed man asked.

Damon wriggled out from under Dean and crawled out of the bed fully naked as he scrambled around the bedroom searching for the coat he had been wearing the night before. When he did, he scrounged around in each of the pockets, his eyebrows furrowed and his bright eyes narrowed in concentration. "Come on, where are you?" Damon grunted.

Dean was lying on his side admiring the view of his lover and smiling in amusement at his palpable, increasing frustration. "What are you searching for?"

"Aha! Found it!" Damon declared proudly pulling something out of his coat pocket.

Dean hadn't even caught a glimpse of it before Damon covered the unknown object with his hands and placed them behind his back as he started walking back toward the bed. "Close your eyes," Damon demanded.

Now it was Dean's turn to scrunch up his face. "Why?"

"Just do it. For me?" Damon pleaded.

The Campbell hunter huffed softly and did as Damon instructed. The second his eyes closed, Dean felt the mattress sink down briefly, denoting that Damon had gotten back into bed, making him smirk. "Is this a new game we're playing, lover?" Dean flirted. "Because if so, all you had to do was ask."

"Tempting, but no," Damon responded.

Just then, Dean felt Damon's slender fingers putting something thin around his neck before being hit with the sensation of a small, cool, slightly weighted object plopping against his bare chest.

"Okay, open them," Damon said softly.

Dean opened his eyes and looked down and what had been put around his neck. Dean's heart hammered excitedly in his chest and his widened eyes brightened in recognition and disbelief, his mouth agape as he fought to voice his thoughts, any thoughts. But there were none... other than the utter shock and joy at seeing- no this couldn't be right. It couldn't be. And yet the proof of it was staring him, well, his ancestor, right in the face.

"You found my amulet," Dean stated matter-of-factly, slowly grazing his fingers over the exact same amulet that Sam had gifted him when they were little. "B-but how? Where did you-"

"It doesn't matter. All that matters is that you have it back, Matthew," Damon beamed. "And it's a good thing I did get it back. Were it not for your curse reviving you, you would have been dead for good."

What? What the hell does that mean? Dean wondered.

"True, but now that I'm going into Transition I'll be practically invincible," Dean recited his ancestor's words. "I'll not need it for protection for much longer."

"Practically invincible is still not entirely invincible. You still have weaknesses. Besides, it still holds sentimental value to you, no?" the Salvatore heir remarked. "After all, if this was a gift my brother had given me, I would cherish it for all my days."

Is that true? Dean thought. Was Matthew practically invincible as a Hunter? Does that mean I'm practically invincible as a Hunter?

Dean was so immersed in his own internal thoughts that he nearly missed the second half of what Damon had said to his ancestor. Matthew had a brother, too? Just like how he had Sam. Unfortunately, he did not have time to dwell on it before he was ripped from the vision once again. But this time, he heard the voice of his ancestor call out to him as he regained consciousness, saying, "The amulet is the key. Follow the amulet."

"Dean, thank God!" Bobby said, huffing out a breath and sagging his shoulders. "Where were you? What happened?"

However, Dean did not bother to answer Bobby's questions or even acknowledge that he spoke. Instead, he looked down at his necklace to find that it was glowing a bright shade of red.

"Bobby, are you seeing this?" Dean asked, his eyes widening as he looked at the amulet.

Bobby followed his nephew's line of vision but frowned in confusion at the golden brown amulet. "See what?"

Without warning, Dean sprung to his feet grasping the end of the amulet in his palm and holding it out in front of him. Then he turned around slowly, watching the amulet as he went, looking for a sign.

"Dean, what're you looking for?" Bobby puzzled.

As if on cue, a noticeable warmth surged through Dean's hand as the red aura enveloping the metal medallion intensified when he pointed in the direction of the town. And that was all the answer that Dean needed to spur him into action.

"Wait, Dean. Hold on. Where are you going?" Bobby shouted.

"Get back in your car and follow me," Dean said, getting back into the Impala before taking off the amulet and hanging it over the rearview mirror. "I know where the grave is."

"And how the hell do you know that?" Bobby asked, even more confused than before.

"It's a long story, and I don't have time to explain," Dean said with a huff. "Look, Bobby, I promise that I'll explain later, but you gotta trust me right now. Can you do that?"

Bobby paused, eyeing Dean warily, before letting out a deep exhale and nodding his head.

"Lead the way," he said.

Then he went back to his truck and followed after Dean, praying that he wasn't leading them both on a wild goose chase. Or worse yet... that Dean was losing his mind.