Supernatural Fan Fiction ❯ A Sea of Waking Dreams ❯ A Blurb ( Chapter 12 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Chapter 12
 
An ice cream shop was pretty much the last place anyone would expect to find a psychic at work. Nevertheless, that was where Niko assured Sam and Dean that George King would be, and, as usual, he turned out to be right.
 
“We don't have to do this,” Dean said as he and Sam stood on the sidewalk outside the shop, staring through the window at the pretty young girl who was sitting alone at one of the tables.
 
He'd been shooting for casual, but he could tell Sam wasn't buying it. In the end, though, Sam just said quietly, “You don't, but I'm pretty sure I do.”
 
Dean huffed and said gruffly, “Yeah, sure I don't. So are we going in, or what?”
 
Sam's mouth twitched in a small smile. “Now or never, I guess.”
 
George smiled at them when they finally came in, motioning with one hand at the chairs on the other side of her table and nursing an ice cream soda with the other. Sam managed a smile in return as he folded himself into the chair, his arm panging with the reminder that it was past time for pain pills. He hadn't taken them today, wanting a clear head when he talked to George.
 
“I was wondering if you were going to come in,” George said.
 
Sam looked down, embarrassed. “Yeah, well…”
 
“I'm glad you did,” George said when he trailed off. “How are you feeling?”
 
“Uh…not to be rude and all, but…don't you know that already?” Dean blurted out. George and Sam both looked at him and Dean stuttered, “Well…I just mean…with Missouri, she…she always knew without asking, and I guess I thought you…”
 
Sam blushed redder and redder the longer he listened, but George was still smiling, and when Dean fell silent for a moment she explained, “I don't read people without permission. I think feelings are private, and I don't intrude on them unless I'm invited to.”
 
“Must be nice to be able to turn it on and off like that,” Sam said, a tad more bitterly than he'd planned.
 
“It can be. But it's also a practice in restraint and a great deal of temptation. Still, I've always been able to control it. I have no idea what it would be like to have it otherwise. I'm guessing it's less than fun, though.”
 
“Yeah, not to mention painful,” Sam muttered to himself. At George's understanding look and Dean's sympathetic expression, he felt embarrassment flutter in his stomach. “I'm sorry—I'm not usually this…angsty.”
 
“He's not,” Dean chimed in. “Just on the days that someone sneezes or the days that end in Y.”
 
George grinned at that, her laughter ringing through the quiet shop. “Don't worry. Cal's a close friend of mine, so I'm used to it.”
 
Dean couldn't seem to help himself—he grinned and asked, “How close?”
 
“Dean,” Sam whispered, mortified.
 
“What? Just…making conversation.”
 
“Is that what you came for?” George asked, ignoring Dean's question entirely. “To make conversation?”
 
“Well….not exactly,” Sam admitted. “Not like this, anyway. I just…I needed to see you. To meet you. And I was also…I was wondering it…”
 
“Sam,” George cut him off gently. “Did you come for a reading?”
 
Dean glanced at him and was starting to reply the negative when Sam said, “Yes.” Dean's eyebrows went up, and Sam shot him an apologetic look before repeating it. “Yes.”
 
George didn't bother to ask if he was sure. She just reached out, picked up one of his hands in both of hers, closed her eyes, and then there were a few moments of silence while Dean squirmed uncomfortably in his seat. Then she let go, sat back in her chair, and said simply, “Your life hasn't been easy.”
 
“Um…no. Not…exactly,” Sam said slowly, a little puzzled. “It never is…for hunters.”
 
“It won't be getting easier,” George said softly. “And in fact, it will get harder.”
 
“Well, that's always nice to hear,” Dean said sarcastically.
 
“I'm sorry, but I don't sugarcoat the truth unless people want me to. It's not going to be easy for you—either of you. There are dark times ahead—dark even to me.”
 
“Anyone ever tell you that talking to you is kinda like reading the sun? Could you be more specific?” Dean asked, smoothly taking the reigns of the conversation since Sam seemed frozen to his seat.
 
“I wish I could,” George said with genuine regret. “But all I can get is a general picture. I can tell you something that you both already know—you need to stick together, always.”
 
“You were right. We already knew that.”
 
“And it's good that you do, because what's to come is going to damage you both. You'll be tempted to separate, and sometimes you'll want to so much you can barely stand it. I know you can't imagine what would make you want to leave each other, but that won't last.”
 
“But…but we know that now,” Dean said, feeling startlingly like he'd gotten the wind knocked out of him. “So we can…”
 
“Dean, there are some things that can't be altered, whether you see them coming or not,” George told him gently. Then she reached out and picked up each of their hands in one of hers—but not for a reading this time. Instead, she just looked at each of them and said, “There is no light at the end of the tunnel.” Her next words she spoke as if to herself. “And sometimes, the only thing more painful than seeing the light…is being the light.”
 
XXX
 
“I think we should go on a hunt.”
 
Sam hadn't said a word the entire way back to the motel, so his blurting this out as he closed the door behind him took Dean a little by surprise.
 
Okay, a lot by surprise.
 
“Uh…sorry?”
 
“I think we should go on a hunt,” Sam repeated, sitting down on his bed and popping open his bottle of pills.
 
Dean sat down on his own bed and asked, “Where's this coming from, kid?”
 
“Does it matter? We've been here for almost three weeks, Dean. We never stay in one place that long. You're itching to get out and it probably won't be long before I am, too. So we should…ya know…get out.”
 
“Sam, look at you,” Dean said. “Your arm is still killing you, I can tell. And besides, you…you're not…I mean, can you even—?”
 
“Dean,” Sam said “I know what you're trying to ask, and…maybe not yet, but we can start off small. I can research. I just…I need to get back in the game. George—some of the things she said made me realize how much I need to do this. Please?”
 
Dean hesitated, then asked, “You'll stick to research?”
 
“Yeah.”
 
“And stay away from fighting for a while?”
 
“That, too.”
 
“And this is….what you want to do?”
 
“Yeah,” Sam said. “It really is. We're in the business of saving lives, Dean, and that hasn't changed, no matter what I've…” Sam cut himself off, shook his head, look up to meet Dean's gaze. “Please?”
 
Dean studied him for a long time, then sighed and said, “Okay. We'll hunt.”
 
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Author's Note: Okay, I lied. Sue me. But I realized that George hadn't made an appearance in this story, and besides, I needed some transition. That said, I promise that the next chapter will be the epilogue. Really this time!