Monday, January 24, 2011

Season 3 - January 24, 2008

Dean turns 29.

Stretched out on the bed, shoulders and head resting on the headboard, eyes closed, ear-buds pumping a continual beating rhythm into his mind as one song followed another, the young man gave the impression of zoning out into sleep. His arms folded across his chest, his legs crossed at the ankles, someone glancing over would have thought he was simply relaxing after a long day. No one would have guessed that his muscles were tense, that his body was waiting, that his mind was churning with thoughts.

“Where is he?”

“Thank God the wallpaper in this room is solid … I don’t think I could take another room of flowers or circles or velvety patterns.”

“Library is two blocks away, how long could it take?”

“Hmm. May look better, but whatever they use to clean stinks worse than …”

“Maybe I should go look for him.”

“What made me download THAT song?”

“Didn’t he say he wouldn’t be gone long?”

Finally giving in to restless nerves, the young man got up from the bed, removing his ear-buds, turning off the music. Glancing out the window, he realized that it was darker than he thought … later than he thought. The car was still parked in the almost empty parking lot. He smiled to himself looking at her, seeing how she gleamed under the neon lights that were beginning to turn on as the day slid from blue to gray to black.

Glancing back at the laptop lying closed on the table, he considered doing a bit of research himself – this latest job was a confusing one – but he wasn’t in the mood. He was ready for this day to be over, but he was also hungry and he wanted to relax and get something to eat. He wanted to sit down and spend some casual time with his brother – talking of nothing, talking about the job they were working, simply being together. Wasn’t that what his little brother had asked for?

“Little” he smirked to himself. “Yeah, and bigfoot is a cuddly teddy bear.”

However, his brother had been silent today, barely answering direct questions. When he jumped up from the computer, grabbed his jacket and announced he was going to the library as he slammed out the door, the young man knew that –even though he hadn’t mentioned anything – his little brother had remembered what today was after all.

Sighing, he wandered back to the bed and sat down, lost in thoughts … lost in memories. He had a vague memory of a party when he was little … a cake with little green plastic soldiers on it … and the look on his mom’s face when she caught him and his dad taking the soldiers off and playing “war” with them. He remembered asking her why she called him her Christmas Valentine and she laughed her soft smiling laugh, snuggling him close and telling him that’s what Mommy’s get when their little boys are born in January.

The young man thought of how his father had tried those first years after his mom died, but after a couple years, birthday parties and presents of games and toys became a thing of the past for him, although he made sure his little brother’s day was special, no matter where they were staying.

Once he found out why his brother hadn’t wanted to celebrate Christmas, there was no way he was going to say a word about his birthday. After all, this birthday wasn’t a “big one”, he’d made it to twenty-nine – he wouldn’t make it to thirty. He wouldn’t get “old” to quote that blonde vampire they wasted. He was okay with that – he had what he wanted. His little brother would carry on. Besides, he didn’t want anything for himself. He had his “baby” looking shiny and his brother was with him. Well, he would be whenever he decided to come in from the library. Right now, all he wanted was to spend a quiet evening without being thrown into a wall or digging in a graveyard – a quiet evening with his brother.

Sitting alone in the motel room, listening to the silence, the young man wondered again if he should go looking for his little brother or if he should simply order a pizza and wait, when his phone began playing his brother’s ring-tone. Answering the phone, he was surprised when the voice on the other end of the line wasn’t his brother but another man, a bartender calling to have him come and pick up his drunken little brother.

“Way to go, dude” he muttered as he pulled on his jacket and head out to the car. “It’s MY birthday and YOU get smashed.” He couldn’t get angry, though. He understood. He knew that his little brother was simply trying to create a fog to hide his frustration that he hadn’t been able to save his big brother yet, that he was trying to escape the mind numbing despair that this is truly the last year his older brother would get older.

Pulling the car smoothly into a parking spot in front of the bar, shutting off the low rumble of her engine, the young man entered the dim smoky room and crossed the worn wooden flooring towards the bar. Eyes searching, unable to locate his little brother, he approached the bartender with a questioning glance. Recognizing that this must be the person he called, the bartender jerked his head in the direction of the room to the side where the young man could see some pool tables. Changing his direction, he headed for the back room, eyes continuing to search for his brother.

Entering the room, his glance fell upon his little brother standing just inside the doorway, watching him with a quiet smile on his face. Puzzled, realizing that his brother wasn’t wasted as he’d been led to believe, the young man also realized that standing next to his little brother was a familiar grizzled face, beaming as he pushed his cap back and then pulled it back on closer. Reaching out, the men each grabbed one of the young man’s arms and pulled him towards the back corner, to a decorated table, complete with balloons tied to one of the chairs. Resting on the table was a cake with a car on it … a little black car … pointed towards a little hill. On the other side of the hill was the number 30.

Dazed and puzzled, the young man looks over at his little brother with questions in his eyes. Still quietly smiling, Sam hands his brother a long neck, leans forward and looks him in the eyes as he says with a grin and fierce determination,

“Happy Birthday, Dean. I figured 29 deserved a little party with just me and Bobby. Next year, and there WILL be a next year, when you have made it “over the hill”, you can have a bigger party … complete with a moon jump … I understand they’re epic … hot chicks think they’re awesome.“

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