Reckless and Brave

XXVI. Roadhouse Blues (Part I)

[Everybody Loves a Clown]

The siblings stood in front of their father's pyre. Holly rested against Dean, at an angle, while the boys stood with their hands in their pockets.

Holly wanted to cry, but over the past few days, she'd cried enough tears. Enough that she thought she'd never cry again.

Sam's eyes flicked to Dean. "Before he...before, did he say anything to you? About anything?"

Dean stared straight ahead as he said, "No. Nothing."

Holly knew he was lying, but she kept silent, as she knew it wasn't her place to speak.

A week later, they were at Bobby's junkyard. Dean was underneath the Impala working on it, and Holly was handing him tools.

"How's the car coming along you two?" Sam asked as he walked up.

"Slow." Dean said.

"Yeah? Need any help?"

Dean dropped a tool. "What, you under a hood? I'll pass."

"Need anything else, then? Holly?"

Dean pushed himself out from under the car and stood up. "Stop it, Sam."

"Stop what?"

"Stop asking if we need anything, stop asking if we're okay. We're okay. Really. I promise."

Sam clearly didn't believe his brother. "Alright, Dean, Holly, it's just...We've been at Bobby's for over a week now, and neither of you have brought up Dad once."

Dean narrowed his eyes. "You know what? You're right. Come here. I'm gonna lay my head gently on your shoulder. Maybe we can cry, hug, and maybe even slow dance."

Holly smiled sarcastically. "Would you have this dance, Samuel?"

Sam frowned at his siblings. "Don't patronize me Dean, Holly. Dad is dead. The Colt is gone, and it seems pretty damn likely that the demon is behind all of this, and you two are acting like nothing happened."

Holly crossed her arms. "What would you like us to say?"

"Say something, alright? Hell, say anything. Aren't you two angry? Don't you two want revenge? But all you do is sit out here all day long buried underneath this car. Holly, you've been out here with him helping and not saying a word."

"Revenge, huh?" Dean said.

"Yeah."

"Sounds good. You got any leads on where the demon is? Making heads or tails of any research? Because Holly and I sure ain't. But you know, if we finally do it--oh. No, wait, like you said. The Colt's gone. But I'm sure you've figured out another way to kill it. We've got nothing, Sam. Nothing, okay? So you know the only thing I can do? I can work on the car."

"And I can sit outside and not talk." Holly added.

Dean crouched by the car, resuming his work.

Sam said, "Well, we've got something, alright?" He pulled out a cell phone. "It's what I came by to tell you. This is one of Dad's old phones. Took me awhile, but I cracked his voicemail code. Listen to this."

He handed it to Dean, who reluctantly took it. Dean played the voicemail. "John, it's Ellen. Again. Look, don't be stubborn, you know I can help you. Call me."

"That message is four months old."

"Dad saved some chick's message for four months?" Holly asked.