Dead End Signs and Wasted Land

The ten mile car ride was nothing but a tense, suspenseful silence full; I hated it. Dean was actually as normal/abnormal as he usually was, jamming intently to various bands such as Metallica and Black Sabbath. Sam on the other had been staring aimlessly at police reports and background information from the painting. His face was a mix between depression and confusion, but I assumed it was just him pondering as usual.

A heavy sigh escaped from my lips, as I held the EMF meter in front of me to search for any strange activity among Milton Cemetery. Of course there was no luck on my part. Weaving in and out of the tombstones, I felt like a freakin' lab rat searching for the cheese on the other end of the maze, except I wasn't going to enjoy myself with cheese. I was going to be happy to know there was some sort of paranormal life occurring in the small, eerie cemetery so we can call it quits for the night to do more research. Life wasn't that easy for me.

"Are you getting anything?" Dean shouted to me and Sam from about fifteen feet away, carrying a similar EMF as Sam and I were. I shook my head. "Nada... oh shit." The EMF meter started spazzing and flashing red lights, making an obnoxious high-pitch noise to inform me that we had some kind of unusual activity on our hands. Sam who was only a few feet away from me noticed the EMF, as it was pointing directly at a battered tombstone.

"Oliver Duke," he said questionably, kneeling down to read the engraved writing. "Isn't that the guy who drew the painting?"

I nodded as Sam glanced up at me, staring at it surprisingly. Dean acknowledged our puzzled faces and paced towards our way. "Find something?" The EMF meter was going off rapidly almost uncontrolable, as Dean knew from there that we had a lead of some sort. He gazed at the tombstone, studying it as if it were a woman. I'm sure he wished it was.

"I think we may have found our little issue," I smirked playfully.

"Guess we need to come back at dark to dig and burn his ass," Dean declared smartly as we went for the car, heading back to the motel. It puzzled me though, because even though there was some uncommon activity going on we didn't know for sure that this Oliver guy was our supernatural suspect. Why would we jump to conclusions so quickly and burn him? Couldn’t we just hang low for a moment to know for certain? Come on, this is Dean we're talking about here.

Once we got back to the motel, I crashed onto one of the beds hard, not caring how idiotic I looked. I was tired. I didn't get much sleep the last few days so my ridiculousness added up to it. Plus, I think the fact of me worrying and being jealous over Dean really was getting the best of me. I wanted to drill it in my head and tell myself that he was just too shallow for me. Okay, so maybe shallow isn't the word- is it?

A big, callused hand grasped onto my leg and shook me. I groaned, hoping that if it was Dean that he'd get the hint that I didn't want to be bothered. "Hey, Sam and I are going out to get pizza- you want anything?" his voice rang through my head like an alarm clock. With my face still planted against the tacky comforter of the bed, I shook my head vigorously but shot up when I realized they were both leaving me... alone.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa there," I shot up like a jack-in-the-box, coming out for a surprise. "You are both leaving me here? Why didn't you grab something while we were out?"

I stared at the two Winchesters, exchanging quick glances at each other as if I was losing it- far from it, just concerned that something could come after me while they were out. Was that a crime? "Dean, she has a point." Sam declared calmly, looking over at my baffled expression.

Dean sighed, rubbing his fingers across his brow. "Alright, fine. Sam you stay, I'll go," he announced and was already out the door before Sam could even get a say in it. I rolled my eyes and plopped back on the bed lazily. "Some brother he is," I mumbled into the blankets, as I felt the bed moving slightly towards the right side. I peeked up to see Sam sitting there on the edge, staring at the floor.

"Well, I have an idiot for a brother, but you should know that by now." He said wearily, followed by a faint sigh. Of course, he had no idea how well I knew that. Dean was a good guy. I wasn't going to lie about that, but he was an asshole a lot of the time. And when I say a lot, I mean almost 90% of the time.

I grunted awkwardly and flipped myself onto my back, staring at the ceiling aimlessly. That's when I started to think, long and hard about my little love scene I had going on behind these two boys backs. Dean seems to just blow off the fact that I've been attracted to him, but I thought maybe it was just a sexual thing and it would always be with me. Then there was Sam- who I wasn't sure how I felt towards him, except that he's a nice guy and a good friend to talk to. "Hey Sam," I said questionably, breaking the silence that filled the room for a good three minutes. I was sure it would have ended sooner, but apparently Sam was struggling to come up with words that just were rolling off his tongue.

He turned his head and gazed over at me. "Yeah?" he replied, staring at me confused as to what was on my mind.

"Lately, you haven't been acting like your usual self."

Sam let out a sarcastic laugh, smiling briefly as I watched it fade quickly. "When am I ever myself? This whole job has never made me feel like my 'usual self.'"

He had a point there. "True... but it actually kind of worries me."

"Why?"

"Well, you haven't acted like this since you started mentioning about Jess a few years ago." I watched as the color on his face started to disappear, as it was now pale and scared. "I just- I feel like you have something in hiding that you aren't tell me and Dean, or maybe it's only me. I don't know. If it is something, just tell me."

A aggravated sigh escaped from his lips, jolting off the bed like a rapid bullet as he paced down the room. Sam's expression was a bit skeptical and deep in some train of thought. Right there I knew there was something that he wanted to get off his chest, but he didn't say anything. "Sam, please." I added caringly, receiving a distant stare back at me.

"Kayla, words can't even describe what I'm thinking right now as well as going through. Can we just drop the subject right now?" His voice was a little shaken and almost as if he was frightened. It was kind of odd for somebody like Sam Winchester to be afraid, unless it was clowns- one of his biggest fears. But I knew whatever it was, I felt like I needed to know sooner than later. I respected his space on leaving it alone for awhile, but I knew he didn't expect me to let it go for long.