Fake Fan Fiction ❯ The Devil's Sweet Ride ❯ Friends and Flashes ( Chapter 4 )

Chapter 4

 

Sam woke up the next morning with the realization that he had no idea where to go next with this job.

 

He hadn't really thought about that the night before—hadn't wanted to think about it, he knew now, any more than he wanted to think about Derek or FBI agents or explanations or issues or anything but work and mysteries and demons and monsters.

 

Only problem was, he had no demon or monster. Plenty of work, plenty of mystery, but nothing more.

 

Sam slipped out from under the covers with a groan and glanced at Dean, still sound asleep and looking like the blowing up of the entire room with gunpowder wouldn't wake him. No surprise there—Dean hardly ever rolled out of bed of his own accord before eight, and it was only about six-thirty now.

 

So, yeah, Sam figured, he had plenty of time to go get breakfast—and maybe get a handle on this, too—before Dean woke up.

 

XXX

 

“So did you sleep with him?” Diana asked, poking her head out of the bathroom where she was putting her things away.

 

Practically any other person would have been scandalized at the frank question, but Nikki just glanced in her best friend's direction and then went back to hanging up her clothes with a casual, “Ew. No. We just had a beer or…five. It was only three months ago, so I was already with this guy,” she added, gesturing to Derek, who was on the bed the two of them shared, staring into space.

 

“Huh?” Derek asked, looking over at them.

 

“Nothing, sweetie,” Nikki soothed. “Go back to wondering about Sam.”

 

“Oh. Okay.”

 

“So then what did you do to make a guy who was probably drop-dead blind drunk remember you three months later?”

 

Nikki shrugged. “I told him he was a lame idiot and then hustled him at pool.”

 

“Yep, that'd do it,” Diana said with a chuckle. “So do you think you're gonna see him again?”

 

“Well, it's sort of inevitable, isn't it?” Nikki replied, closing the door and sitting on her bed next to Derek on their bed. “I mean, if his brother is gonna be around, it only makes sense that Dean would be, too.” She grinned slyly. “At least, I hope so. It's funny how he goes all pale when he looks at me.”

 

XXX

 

JJ rolled over on the couch and realized that he was awake and thinking already.

 

Last night, he'd been just too tired to do any of that. Whatever had happened in Drake's—and his, though he was still having a difficult time with that kind of thing—office had left him with a splitting headache and a rather severe bout of nausea. He didn't really recall much of the ride home, but he guessed Drake must have made him comfortable—but not on the bed. JJ wasn't nearly comfortable enough here to sleep in Drake's—and his—bed.

 

He wished he could be.

 

He wished he could know them.

 

Everyone kept telling him that it was okay, that there was no pressure, that they knew it must be hard. That they would stick by him.

 

Drake told him the most.

 

Drake…he wanted so badly to feel for Drake what the sandy-haired man obviously felt for him. He wanted to be comfortable around them—hell, around anyone other than Sam, who for some reason was the only one who made him feel at ease. He wanted to stop hurting them with everything that just wasn't there.

 

Once again, JJ tried beating down whatever wall it was that separated him from himself, but…there was nothing. It was all just…blank.

 

Damn it, why can't I just remember?

 

XXX

 

“For here or to go?” one of the bored-looking middle-aged waitresses that Sam always seemed to get stuck with asked.

 

“To go, please,” Sam replied, already digging around for his wallet to pay for Dean's food.

 

“All right. That'll be a few minutes.”

 

“Thanks,” Sam said, already going to sit down at the counter, his hand coming up to rub his head as he dropped into his seat. He'd felt the pain steadily building the whole time he ate, along with a sense of pressure and oh, God, now he realized what that meant and why did it always take so long?

 

And just like that the onslaught of images began to flash.

 

By some sort of merciful, God-like strong of fate, the full impact of the pictures held back long enough for him to get the food, pay for it, and stumble out the door to the diner. He leaned against the brick outer wall of the diner and slowly slid to the ground, his head cradled in the hand that wasn't holding the take-out bag.

 

And then there was nothing to do but allow himself to sink into the vision.

 

XXX

 

“Drake…Drake, stop it!” JJ giggled, leaping out of his boyfriend's reach. “Must you always tickle me?”

 

Drake looked thoughtful for a moment, but the pout disappeared with a loud burst of laughter as Drake closed the gap between them and grabbed him around the waist, swinging him in a circle. “Dra-a-ake! What's gotten into you?” he asked with another breathless laugh once he was firmly on the ground again.

 

Drake just grinned. “You must be rubbing off on me.”

 

“Yes, I'm just a horrible influence,” JJ agreed, smirking and pulling him into a kiss. He pulled back quickly, however, a mischievous grin on his face. “Race you to the corner,” he challenged. “Loser finished all the paperwork.”

 

He took off without waiting for a reply, and Drake gave chase, chuckling quietly with every step.

 

Only JJ.

 

Only JJ could make him act like he was twelve again.

 

Only JJ could make him feel like he was twelve again.

 

…And only JJ could just up and disappear so totally and completely during a footrace.

 

XXX

 

Sam pulled himself away from the images of Drake looking around frantically for JJ, and found himself back outside the diner. Shakily, he stood up, his hand still pressed to his forehead.

 

What the hell…?

 

That had just been…weird. And…

 

And what?

 

What was that?

 

Slowly, Sam dropped his hand back to his side and turned to head back to the motel, still pondering what he'd seen.

 

XXX

 

“I had a vision.”

 

Dean rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and gave his brother A Look. “Dude, isn't it a little early?”

 

Sam rolled his eyes and shoved the bag to Dean's chest as he passed to sit on the bed. “I don't think that actually matters, Dean. Yeah, sorry, it's a little cold,” he added as Dean started unpacking his food. “I was leaving the diner when it happened.”

 

Dean shrugged. “Whatever.” He took a bite of his breakfast burrito and asked with his mouth full, “Want your pills?”

 

Sam was momentarily puzzled by the question, until he remembered that he'd given his bottle of painkillers to his brother some months before, fearing that he used them as too much of a crutch.

 

He shook his head in answer to the question. “Nah. Headaches had time to die down.”

 

Dean looked doubtful on that point, but he simply shrugged and said, “Okay, whatever, man. So tell me what you saw, then.”

 

Sam ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “Well, it wasn't a normal vision, I can tell you that much.”

 

“And I can tell you that I can't believe you just said `normal vision'.”

 

Sam glowered. “Y'know, you're almost funny.”

 

“Almost? But I was trying so hard…” Dean protested. “Ah, well, I'll work on it. So what was so…different this time?”

 

“Well, I saw JJ's disappearance, for one.”

 

Dean was silent for a minute, absorbing this, before he said, “Come again?”

 

“You heard me. I saw the past. JJ and Drake were walking back to the 27th, and they were racing…to the corner, I think. JJ got there first, and by the time Drake caught up he just…wasn't there.”

 

“And you didn't see anyone take him?”

 

“No, not a trace.”

 

“What the hell?”

 

Sam held out his hands in a gesture of helplessness. “Got me, man. I have no idea. But we need to go talk to Drake.”

 

“Uh…Sammy, aren't you…forgetting something?” Dean asked, looking strangely uncomfortable.

 

Sam thought about it. “No, I don't think so…” Then it struck him, and he clapped a hand to his head. “Derek…I'm supposed to meet Derek. And I still haven't figured out what to tell him about all this!”

 

“Oh, and there's also the question of how you plan to explain this sudden burst of knowledge to JJ and Drake…and Ryo and Dee…and…well, maybe a few others, depending on who asks,” Dean added helpfully.

 

Sam let out a long, agonized groan and fell onto his back. “This sucks!”

 

XXX

 

“So where're you supposed to meet that kid Sam?” Diana asked, looking at Derek in the mirror as she tried on earrings.

 

Derek grinned. “At his and dean's motel room in—” He glanced at his watch. “About an hour.”

 

Nikki rolled her eyes. “Why is it that your face becomes a light bulb every time anyone mentions that guy? I don't have to worry about competition, do I?”

 

Derek glared at her and tossed a pillow in her direction. “Don't be gross. He's my best friend, okay? And I haven't seen him in almost two years.”

 

Nikki captured the pillow and set it behind her, leaning against it and frowning. “Yeah, about that. You know you're gonna have to tell me what happened between you two.”

 

Derek shrugged. “Not much to tell. He just…left school. I guess permanently. We keep in touch through e-mail, but…” He shrugged. “It's not the same.” His face darkened for a moment before the smile came back as if it had never left. “God, I can't believe I met up with him here, of all places! And when he's here to help one of your friends,” he added to Diana.

 

“Yeah, that's weird,” Diana agreed, finally picking out her earrings. “I didn't even know JJ had any friends outside the precinct, let alone friends that…”

 

“Gorgeous?” Nikki asked, chuckling when Derek flashed her a mock-glare.

 

“Well, I was gonna say straight, but that works, too.”

 

“You two are sick,” Derek informed them, fishing in his pocket for his ringing cell phone. He looked at the caller ID and grinned as he flipped it open. “Hey, Sam!”

 

Nikki looked at him with amusement, wondering, as she often did, how a boyfriend of hers could be so happy all the time.

 

But then Derek listened to whatever Sam was saying, and his smile began to fade…

 

XXX

 

“Well. That was fun,” Sam said darkly, hanging up his phone and frowning at it as if it were responsible for every one of his current problems.

 

“Ah, c'mon, Sammy, it couldn't have been that bad,” Dean said, in what was evidently supposed to be a reassuring tone of voice. “It's not like he'll never see you again…”

 

Sam looked bitterly amused, and Dean trailed off as he realized how stupid the words were.

 

“Look,” he said finally, after a long silence during which both contemplated the fact that it was entirely possible for them to take off at any moment and not see Derek again. “What if I promise you we won't leave until you get a chance to square things with him? Will that be enough to make you stop acting so emo?”

 

Sam's answering smile was so small as to barely be seen, but it was a victory nonetheless.

 

“We should get going.”

 

Dean stared at Sam's back as his brother headed for the door.

 

So…discussion…over, then? Damn, but he is hard to deal with…

 

XXX

 

“Do you want eggs?” Derek asked, peering intently into the fridge.

 

JJ shrugged. “I dunno. Do I?”

 

He'd tried for a light, bantering tone, and it seemed to work, because Drake was smiling a little when he turned around, closing the fridge and holding two eggs in his hand.

 

“I think it's wise.”

 

“Okay, then. I guess I have to trust you. But if those things are disgusting, you'll pay.”

 

Drake laughed, and JJ was surprised by the warmth that shot through him at the sound. “I'll remember that. So…is your head feeling better?”

 

“Yeah, it's fine now. Thanks.”

 

“Really fine, or `I'm-too-stubborn-to-tell-you-the-truth' fine?” Drake asked shrewdly.

 

JJ looked at him in surprise. “What are you talking about?”

 

Drake's face fell. “Oh…nothing. It's just…you always used to…never mind…” He trailed off uncertainly, staring down at the eggs in his hand.

 

And then things were just uncomfortable again.

 

Drake fried the eggs and some bacon for their breakfast, all without speaking. JJ was silent, too, mostly because he had no idea of what he'd done to screw their conversation up, and he didn't want to make the same mistake again.

 

I have got to get a handle on this whole talking thing…

 

The two of them were just finishing up the almost-silent meal when the doorbell rang. Drake frowned as he went to answer it, muttering something about “early,” while JJ watched curiously from the table, almost hoping it was…

 

Stop it! You're not supposed to be hoping for anyone! You don't know anyone!

 

But even telling himself that didn't stop the spark of relief he felt when Sam's voice echoed through the apartment.

 

“We have to talk to you.”

 

XXX

 

“Okay, okay, okay, just…stop for a second,” Drake said, gesturing somewhat frantically for silence. “You can't seriously be thinking that I had something to do with—”

 

“No, no, no, absolutely not,” Sam assured him quickly. We're not accusing you of anything. But we do know that you were there.”

 

“And…how do you know this?”

 

Sam fought the urge to sigh. He just had to go there.

 

“That's way too complicated to get into right now,” he said, thinking fast. “But…look, I promise to give you an explanation, okay?”

 

“Sam…” Dean growled.

 

Sam ignored him. It was a little rash, but there was no other way to get what he wanted, he could already see that.

 

“But right now, could you not ask any questions? Please? I need something from you first, and then you can ask all you want.”

 

“What do you want?” Drake asked suspiciously.

 

Sam looked steadily at him. “I need you to take us to the place JJ disappeared from.”

 

XXX

 

“Sam, what are we doing here?” Dean asked in exasperation as he watched his brother.

 

“Looking,” Sam replied calmly, running a hand along the wall.

 

“For what? It's been a month. Trail's cold, man.” He glanced over his shoulder at JJ and Drake, the latter of whom was looking extremely uneasy about his current locale. “And our friendly neighborhood cops don't look too happy about being here.”

 

“I know. And I wish I could do something about it, but this is important,” Sam said vaguely, standing back to look at the wall itself. “You know I never have a vision without reason.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” Dean muttered. “But I still don't know what you expect to find…”

 

XXX

 

“JJ, where're you going?” Drake asked with his usual quiet concern as JJ pushed away from Dean's Impala and headed in the direction of the brothers.

 

“I'll be right back,” JJ replied.

 

Sam looked up as the smaller man joined him. “JJ? Something wrong?”

 

JJ shook his head. “Nah. Whatcha doin'?”

 

“Looking,” Sam said with a distracted smile. “You want to help?”

 

“Uh…what're we looking for?”

 

“I don't have a clue.”

 

JJ thought about it a moment, then gave an easy grin. “Okay, then!” he said, and with that he began to imitate Sam in staring at the wall.

 

Sam's everlasting gentility wavered a bit when he said approximately two seconds later, “Hey, what's this?”

 

“What's what?” the hunter asked, coming to stand beside him.

 

“It looks like some kind of…powder,” JJ said, reaching out to brush his fingers over the stuff clinging to the corner where the walls met.

 

There was absolutely no warning before the flash assaulted him.

 

XXX

 

It was night, and Drake looked scared.

 

Well, actually, he looked terrified. He didn't attempt to assist his fellow officers in their search, but rather sat huddled against the side of a police car, his arms wrapped around his knees, his eyes hollow and blank. Ryo crouched next to him, a hand on his shoulder, his face downcast.

 

Cops swarmed all over the place, murmuring to each other and questioning and looking for…something.

 

But they wouldn't find it.

 

Not if they looked for a thousand years.

 

XXX

 

JJ gasped as the images faded from his mind. He looked up to see Sam, Drake, and Dean hovering over him, all with identical expressions of worry.

 

“I-I'm fine. Just…another flash.”

 

“What was it about?” Drake asked gently.

 

“I…I dunno. There were policemen…and they were…searching…and you were there, Drake. Ryo, too. But…I wasn't…”

 

“But…what sense does that make?” Dean asked. “If it's memory flashes you're having, shouldn't you have a featured role?”

 

JJ shrugged. “I don't know! It's not like I've ever been in this situation before…I don't think…”

 

“You haven't,” Drake assured him.

 

Sam, meanwhile, had gone back to the corner, and as Drake finished speaking he called, “Hey, Dean, c'mere.”

 

Dean was at his side in a second, and Sam held up a hand. His fingertips were coated in yellowish powder.

“What is that?”

 

Wordlessly, Sam held his hand under Dean's nose, and instantly Dean inhaled the scent of burning matches.

 

“…I don't believe it.”

 

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Author's Note: This isn't exactly all that important, I guess, but I think I should say it to whoever's reading this story anyway.

 

I'm rapidly losing track of this story. In the beginning, it had a plot—a pretty good plot, if I remember correctly—and it was a whole lot less boring in the writing. But I guess I waited too long to start it, because it doesn't seem as good to me as it used to. I'm still going to finish it, but I totally don't blame anyone for not reading it. I wouldn't read it! I'm only finishing it because I've never not finished a story and I don't plan to start now.

 

So. Yeah. That's it. The basic gist of my message.

 

Except…well, I've never wished a story were over, but I really, really, really am right at this moment.

 

And…uh…sorry to sound so emo. I'm really not feeling the way I sound! In fact, I'm pretty happy at this moment! Unfortunately, there's really no way to say that you hate your own story in a cheerful way…shrug