The Final Hour (Winchester Sister 3)

The Kids Are Alright

Napolean, Ohio
353 Days - May 16, 2007

"What do you mean you don't think it will work, Bobby?" Sam questioned with his cell phone plastered to his ear like an extra body function. The wise man made Sam know very clearly why he didn't think it would work. "Well, maybe we got the translation wrong."

I don't get why he's still trying to push on with this. Is he the one with the death wish?

"Look, we can't just let Dean fry in hell while we-"

Uncle Bobby interrupted him again as there was a rap against the window we were sitting at. Dean smirked wildly and danced passed.

"No, I gotta go," Sam stuttered quickly before the big brother took a seat next to me.

"Hey, who was that?" Dean asked.

"Uh, I was just ordering pizza," Sam stumbled for words faster than he can run, blurting out the first thing that came to his usually smart mind.

Dean looked around, "you do realize that you're in a restaurant?"

"Yeah, yeah. I, uh, she wanted pizza." After Dean glanced at me, I shot Sam a glare.

"Whatever. So, I think I got something," he bought forth, pulling out a local newspaper. "Cicero, Indiana."

2hr 31min, I thought to myself. Napolean, Ohio isn't exactly a monster hotspot.

He slid the paper towards Sam who studied it thoughtfully. "Falls on his own powersaw."

Sam furrowed his brow, "that's it? One power saw?"

Dean shook his head, wanting to know what else he had to say about this.

"And you think that this is a case?" I took the newspaper and had a read. Working on a project for his daughter when he fell.

He shrugged, "could be."

"As much as I hate to say it, I don't know, Dean. That's not really much to go on."

Our brother sighed and admitted as to why he wanted to go to Cicero, Indiana. "There's something much better in Cicero than just a case."

"And that is?" I questioned taking the time to muster up the best expectant expression I could.

"Lisa Braeden."

I sighed, "should I even ask?"

"Remember that road trip that I took about, uh, eight years ago? You guys were in Orlando with Dad wrapping up a banshee thing."

"Yeah, the five states, five day thing," Sam reminisced. I'm glad he has happy memories of Orlando. All I remember were four walls and an uncomfortable motel bed in a stuffy room where any sunlight wasn't allowed in, considering I was eight and sitting alone for three days.

"Well, kind of. Although I spent most of my time in Lisa Braeden's loft."

"So let me get this straight." I set my hand across the table as if to draw a road. "You want to drive all the way to Cicero just to hook up with some random chick?"

"She was a yoga teacher," he smiked. "It was the bendiest weekend of my life."

I chuckled and scrunched up a napkin.

"Have a heart, huh? It's my dying wish."

"How many dying wishes are you going to get?" Sam's voice raised a little, not enough to draw attention to our small diner table.

"As many as I can squeeze out! Come on," Dean urged, when he noticed Sam's pathetic glare. "Smile, Sam! God knows I'm gonna be smiling after 24 with Gumby girl," he laughed to himself. "Gumby girl." Suddenly, his smile turned into a frown, "does that make me Pokey?"