Hymn to the Missing (Supernatural Fanfiction)

Scene 12

Belch...

The noise that emanated from Dean's mouth was epic, "Dude..." Sam said screwing his face up at the sound, and the stench, "that's disgusting!"

Sam was trying to haul Dean into the Impala, something that should have been easy, if not for Dean's drunken state. After such a fruitless afternoon researching and still no sign of Hope – Dean had taken to the bottle hard, to drown his sorrows.

As Sam opened the back door to the car, Dean stumbled hitting his head on the roof, "ow" a long-winded moan. Finally, Sam had him on the back seat; he was out cold, only faint sounds of snoring coming from the other side of the car.

Sam slammed the door and made his way around to the driver's side when...

"How anybody would believe you two to be FBI agents is beyond me!"

The statement came from an older man, who was rolling across the road in a wheelchair.

"Excuse me?" questioned Sam.

"FBI agents. Why you two, are no more FBI agents than I am the Prime Minister of Australia on holiday to this godforsaken, backward walking, hell hole." The man scoffed, still rolling slowly across the road. "Bad enough you two losers being here... Let alone you are driving John Winchester's old car."

The man was on the other side of the road now and Sam having heard his father's name jogged across to him asking, "You knew John Winchester?"

"Yep. That is his car you are driving. Geez. Judging by your presence here, I'm going to say it was some 30 years ago that I met John."

Sam was doing some quick thinking; Dean would have been eight or so back then. Dad would have been hunting in those days, so anybody who knew him had to be in the business himself. Then, there was the whole thirty-year comment... Sam hazarded a guess, "You are a hunter?"

"Well, I was... Before I lost my leg and all that." The man was looking down at his missing leg, a sad look on his face, as he spoke, "Not being able to run away from the devil, makes hunting a teensy-weensy bit difficult nowadays..."

"You hunted with John?"

"Just that once. Same thing you're hunting now I'd say..." Sam swallowed hard, at the man's comment; he never knew when it was okay to talk about the things he and Dean did on a daily basis.

"Never did catch that thing! Had no idea what it was then, still don't. Had heard nothing like it back then... or since, a one-off freak of nature," the man paused, reflecting on the past, "course it had already got three before John blew into town. Took the other two before we knew what was what, and then it was all over... for another thirty years... John blew back out again, but I stayed on... Never could shake that case..." The man's eyes had changed, obviously remembering something terrible.

"It was all over?" Sam asked, still not really piecing together what this man was saying.

"Well yeah... It got the five. That was what it did. We found the history, that part was easy. Every thirty years for the past ninety or so, five dead, turned to stone like, and then a sixth, goes missing, no body, no anything. Must hole up and hibernate or something..." The man's voice trailed off again, remembering.

"There is history? My brother and I spent a whole day looking, and came up empty." Sam was curious as to how he and Dean could have missed the history.

"Not surprising really. John and I got our information from the papers and talking to the locals. Then, fifteen years or so ago, a new mayor swept in; digitised everything. She did not like the 'stone man' story and did not want it to kill off potential tourists, so she buried it, and it never became part of the digital world. Potential tourism..." he scoffed again "as if any self-respecting tourists would be caught in this pathetic, good for..."

"Do you still have the stories?" Sam interjected, not wanting to listen to the man go on about the town again.

"Course. Like I said, never could let that one go. I will dig em up if you think it will help you any. You staying at the Duray?"

"Yeah," replied Sam, "room 314."

"Well... I will bring em round first thing on the morrow. Say, how is it you ended up with John's car?" the man asked.

"He was our dad. I'm Sam and Deans..." Sam's voice trailed off, as his eyes glanced over at the Impala. "Working up an epic bag of regret, on the back seat of the Impala?" finished the old man.

"Yeah" Sam agreed.

"Well, I knew John had two boys, it's why he blew out so fast. To get back to them. You could tell he really loved them boys..." Sam did not know what to say, so he just stood there.

"Well, I'll be round in the morning with the files." The man said, starting to push off down the street.

"Oh wait. I'm sorry..." Sam finally coming to some sort of sense, "I, ah... didn't ask your name."

"Pete" the old man said over his shoulder, as he picked up speed, rolling downhill.

Sam stood there a minute looking around him, thinking of the encounter he had just had. He shook his head, a small smile making its way to his lips, and then he walked over to the Impala, opened the front door and got in.

Fade out