Rivers Deep | Sam Winchester

6. Equality

" Disease generally begins that equality which death completes. " - Samuel Johnson

• • •

Dean walked towards a door, his expression menacing and determined as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his pistol. He made sure it was loaded, everything appeared slowed and blurred, as he put the magazine back into the gun. He peered around a corner, light hitting him through a window.

Opening the door, he looked at a young blond man seated in a chair in the center of the room. The room was white, looking almost sterile, like a clinic. The blond man looked up at Dean as he stepped in, gun held high, and shut the door.

"No, no, no, no, you're not gonna-" the young man cut himself off, "No! I swear! It's not in me!"

"Oh God, we're all gonna die, "A young blonde girl spoke from another spot in the room. "Maybe he's telling the truth," an older black man stated. "He's not him, not anymore," Dean rebuked.

"Stop it! Ask her! Ask the doctor!" the young man screamed. An older woman in a white clincial coat looked between Dean and the young man, panicked. "It's not in me!"

"I... just..." The doctor stuttered, "I can't tell." "No, please, don't, please don't, I swear, I swear, I swear-" the man's pleas faded into the background as Dean raised his pistol, "I've got no choice."

A gunshot rang.

• • •

Sam panted, his eyes shooting open, staring at the ceiling. He could hear the door to the motel room unlocking and opening, he could feel his heart beating, pulsing rang in his ears matching it's pattern. He recognized that he was on the floor and not in the bed he had previously been on, and was beginning to grasp reality once again as Dean stepped through the door, a case of beer in hand.

He sat up, taking deep breaths as Dean spoke, "Sam?"

• • •

Noah sat up on his bed, raising a hand to his head. He really should know better than to have that many glasses of whiskey in one night. He whistled for Delta, as she jumped onto the bed, he started petting her head.

His gut started to stir as he zoned out, staring ahead at the walls. He had a weird feeling. Something told him to pickup his phone, and he did just so. He looked at his screen and for some reason, he went to his contacts. Something felt off, and he felt the need to check on the Winchesters.

He clicked the keys on his flip phone, having not upgraded in several years, before calling Dean himself. It went straight to voicemail. Noah's concern spiked, as he called Sam.

-

Dean pressed the buttonson the payphone getting nothing but a dial tone. He sighed, turning back to Sam and he put it back, "Line's dead."

"I'll tell you one thing, if I was gonna massacre a town, that'd be my first step," Dean said with a grim tone.

Sam's phone started to ring, Sam and Dean looked at one another. It wasn't ten seconds ago that neither of them had service on their mobiles, they hadn't even stepped away yet. "Okay, now that's freaky," Dean spoke as Sam pulled his phone back out of his jacket, answering, "Hello?"

-

"Hey, you two alright?" Noah asked, stroking down Delta's back. The german shepherd smiled up at him, panting as she rolled over for a belly rub.

-

"Uh, well, we were actually about to call you for some help on a case but we didn't have service," Sam replied, furrowing his eyebrows. It just didn't make sense.