Maddison Winchester: Journal 4 {Supernatural}

6 Yellow Fever: Part 3

After they left the nursing home, they walked out to join me in the Impala.

Dean stopped and rested his arms on the hood of the Impala. "Now, we know what these are..."

I got out to see what he was talking about.

He was pointing to his scratch marks. "Road rash. And I'm guessing Luther swallowed some wood chips when he was being dragged down that road."

"What? What did Luther's brother tell you?" I asked.

"He said that Luther was really misunderstood because of his size. He had a crush on Frank's wife, Jessie. She worked at the mill with him, and she was really nice to Luther, but when she went missing, Frank assumed Luther had something to do with it," Sam explained.

Dean nodded. "Turned out she killed herself, but Frank didn't know. Police found Luther with a chain wrapped around his neck. He had been dragged up and down the road by the mill until he was gone."

"No one did anything about it?" I asked.

Dean shook his head. "The cops didn't want to touch Frank. He was a pillar of the community, and Luther was the town freak."

I shook my head. "That's awful."

Sam nodded. "Yeah, makes sense." He gestured to Dean's scratches. "You're experiencing his death in slow motion."

"Yeah, well, not slow enough, huh?" Dean scoffed. "Say we burn some bones and get me healthy."

"Dean, it won't be that easy," Sam said.

"No, no, it'll be that easy." Dean shook his head. "Why wouldn't it be that easy?"

"Luther was road-hauled. His body was ripped to pieces. He was probably scattered all over that road. There's no way we're gonna find all the remains," Sam explained.

"You're kidding me," Dean said, heartbroken.

Sam shrugged. "Look, we'll just have to figure something else out."

"Ya know what? Screw this," Dean said, starting to walk away.

Sam put his hand out. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Dean."

"Come on. No, I mean, come on, Sam. What are we doing?!" Dean shouted.

"We're hunting a ghost," Sam said.

"A ghost, exactly!" Dean yelled. "Who does that?"

"Us," I said.

"Us? Right. And that, that is exactly why our lives suck!" Dean exclaimed, "I mean, come on, we hunt monsters! What the hell?!" he shouted. "I mean, normal people, they see a monster, and they run. But not us, no, no, no, we— we search out things that want to kill us. Yeah? Huh? Or eat us! You know who does that?" He asked. "Crazy people! We... are insane! Ya know, and then there's the bad diner food and then the skeevy motel rooms and then the truck-stop waitress with the bizarre rash. I mean, who wants this life? Huh? Seriously?" he asked, "Do you two actually like being stuck in a car with me eight hours a day, every single day? I don't think so!" he shouted. "I mean, I drive too fast. And I listen to the same five albums over and over and over again, and— and I sing along. I'm annoying, I know that." He pointed to me. "And you get left behind at crap motels all the time! And— And you don't listen. You talk back! It drives me insane!"

I furrowed my brow. "Whoa? Okay, chill."

"See what I mean?" he asked, and I scoffed. "And on top of all that, I'm constantly worrying about you." He turned his attention to Sam. "And you... you're gassy! You eat half a burrito, and you get toxic!" He shook his head. "I mean, ya know what?" He tossed the keys to Sam and started walking away. "You can forget it."

Sam put his hands up in protest. "Whoa, Dean. where are you going?"

Dean stopped and pointed at Sam. "Stay away from me, okay? 'Cause I am done with it." He turned and started walking away again.

"Dean, you can't just leave," I said as I watched him in disbelief.

"I'm done with the monsters and— and— and the hellhounds and the ghost sickness and the damn apocalypse. I'm out. I'm done. Quit," Dean said as he continued to walk away.

Sam and I looked at each other like, "now what?"

"Dean!" I shouted after him, but he rounded the corner of the building and didn't look back. I looked at Sam. "Well, what are we gonna do? We can't just let him wander off. he's gonna end up in an alley having a panic attack somewhere."

Sam nodded. "Get in the car."

Sam and I got in and drove off in the direction Dean had disappeared, but he was nowhere to be found. We drove around for a while, but there was still no sign of him.

"Sam, I'm getting worried," I said, as I continued to analyze everyone and everything I could see out of my window.

Sam sighed. "I'm sure he's fine, let's go back to the motel. Maybe he'll be there."

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Back at the motel, we walked in, and, sure enough, Dean was sitting on his bed panting and looking terrified.

Sam walked in with his hands out. "We looked everywhere for you, Dean. How the hell did you get here?"

"Ran." Dean panted.

Sam sat on his bed, and I sat down on the bed next to Dean.

"What do we do now?" Dean asked. "I got less than four hours on the clock. I'm gonna die."

"No, you aren't, we're gonna figure this out." I tried to assure him, but he looked at me as if he were horrified by what I was saying.

Sam nodded. "Yeah, we aren't going to let you die, Dean."

Dean snapped his head to look at Sam, with terror still in his eyes. "Back?"

Sam furrowed his brow. "What? Dean, take a deep breath."

Dean stood up and stepped back against the wall. "No!" he shouted and pointed at Sam and me. "You get out of them, you evil sons of bitches!"

Sam and I looked at each other out of confusion and walked over to Dean.

"Dean, it's us," I said.

Sam put his hand on Dean's shoulder. "You're going to pass out if you don't calm down and get your breathing under control."

Dean started to choke and hyperventilate.

Sam started to shake him, trying to snap him out of whatever was happening. "Hey, hey, hey, Dean. Hey, Dean."

Dean finally snapped out of it. He caught his breath, but he looked pale, and he was sweating terribly.

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