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In Spite of All the Danger (5/13)

Title: In Spite of All the Danger
Chapter Title: It's All Too Much
Wordcount: 886 this chapter
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Sam, Dean, OMC with appearances by Castiel and Ruby Warnings: None
Spoilers: None so far. It's set late season 4 so there will possibly be eventual mentions of what's gone on before
Disclaimer: If you recognize the character, it's not mine
Summary: The brothers, in the course of a simple salt and burn, meet up with a stranger who conveniently needs to be rescued
A/N: This is my first Supernatural fic so please be kind. I'm a little nervous regarding its reception. Thanks to my beta just_ruth Links to the real places at the bottom.
Song on YouTube: It's All Too Much--The Beatles

One: Dear Prudence
Two: You Can't Do That
Three: Help!
Four: Happiness is a Warm Gun

Later the next morning, Sam directed Dean to the Gunn Memorial Library in Washington. With Zeppelin playing in the background, Dean began to question Alan about the future. Sam took the time to study the man. Alan was close to 40 with light brown hair that was a little longer than Dean’s and green eyes. He was close to 6-foot with a lean athletic build which meant he kept in shape. There was something about Alan that was familiar, but he wasn’t sure what. The idea that Alan had been chose by God to help them was really tough to wrap his head around. The fact that Cas gave his approval leant credence to his story. For Dean, all it took was bonding over weapons. For him, the jury was still out.

“Of course you know I can’t tell you too much to keep from influencing your choices.”

“But we’re out in space and all, like Trek?”

“Yeah, kinda like that.”

The road evened out at a snow-covered green. The white historical buildings situated around it made a picture postcard of a New England winter. In his mind he reeled off some of the architectural styles he remembered from a distant art history course, the same one he used to sweet talk Sarah Blake: Colonial, Colonial Revival and Federal.

“Sammy, c’mon, we’re here.”

Sam realized they were in the small parking lot next to the library and Alan was already at the entrance. “Yeah.” He got out of the car and followed Dean inside.

Alan was waiting for them, unwinding his scarf. “The room we want is climate controlled, so don’t keep opening the door, okay?”

“I’d better go hit the head, then.”

“We’ll be right upstairs.” Sam would’ve taken the stairs two at a time if they hadn’t been in a library. Instead, he jogged up.

“You enjoy this, don’t you?” came Alan’s voice behind him.

“What did you say?”

“You must really enjoy this by the way you’re diving into the books.”

Sam stopped at the door. “I do. When I was a kid and too young to hunt, researching made me feel like I was helping.”

Dean joined them. “Okay, let’s get started.”

Sam entered the room and took a deep breath. He so loved the smell of old books and found it soothing. No one else was in the room so they’d be able to speak openly. “Okay,” he said as he set his laptop on the table provided, “we should concentrate on women, mainly from the late 18th century, who lived here in Litchfield County.”

Alan scanned the shelves, trying to locate the section they needed. “This is what we want.”

Sam joined him and helped sift through the material as Dean just leaned back in one of the chairs, feet on the table. “C’mon, Dean, we need you to be serious about this.”

Dean put his feet back on the floor. “I can do research, Professor. I did it while you were off geeking at Stanford. I just don’t get off on it like you do.”

Sam didn’t want to argue so just buried himself in the books.

He leaned back from the pile of books in front of him and realized he was alone. When had the others left? He looked at the list he had typed into the laptop. Some of the names were the same but most were new. This was not making the search any easier. With a sigh, he put the books away and slipped the computer back into its case before leaving the room. He nodded to the woman at the circulation desk before stepping outside. The Impala was there, empty. He took out his cell and called Dean. “Hey, where did you go?”

“We’re at a coffee shop right across the Green.”

“‘The Green’?” He never thought he’d hear those words from his brother’s mouth.

“That’s what it’s called.”

“Okay, I see it. I’ll be right there. Order me a cup.” Sam ended the call and dropped the phone back into his pocket as he walked over to the aptly named Crossroads Café.

Alan and Dean were sitting at a table by the window and Dean was laughing. He slipped onto the chair next to Dean. “What’s so funny?”

“Alan was telling me some of the pranks he used to get up to. Our stuff is mild compared to it.”

“You could’ve at least told me you were leaving.” Sam sipped the still steaming coffee.

“We did,” said Dean. “You just didn’t hear us.”

“I’m sorry, Sam. I was just beginning to get a little restless,” Alan confessed. “Dean agreed to come with me.”

Sam had a feeling it was more the other way around. “Anyway, according to the names, we’ve narrowed it down to seven different locations throughout the county and at least three different women at each general area.”

“I think we’d better wait and continue this conversation in a better location,” said Alan.

Sam noticed that they were getting a few stares. “Okay, I’ll fill you in once we get back to the hotel.”

“There’s gonna be a slight detour,” Dean said with a crooked grin. “Burgers and pie.”

“Of course.” Sam drank his coffee and chuckled at how easily his brother could be bought with the promise of food.

General site about the town of Washington with a picture of the library and church on the Green
Google Maps of the area

Six: Getting Better


SPN Dean Writing

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