bloodnbadthings: (angry: dark glower)
They'd been at it over a month now with still no sign of Dad. There had been hope once when an old acquaintance of John and Dean's called for help on another case and informed them that he found Sam's phone number by calling John's. Suddenly the phone that had given them nothing but disconnect redirects was now clicking over to voicemail in their father's voice informing people to call Sam if they needed help.

Sam had... not liked that development. Dean could understand why. Sam didn't have anything against helping people, but to have proof that their father was still out there and knew Sam was hunting... presumably knew Sam was looking for him... but, he was still staying out of communication? Dean could understand why that was upsetting. All he could do was keep trying to track the man down and hope when they did, Sam could get his answers.

They were in the middle of nowhere Illinois, Dean still recovering from his first and last airplane flight, when their hunt met with an unexpected snag. Dean walked into their motel room after sitting with Sam through his dinner to find their room occupied. A blond vampire was stretched out on Dean's bed, lounging. Inwardly, Dean started cussing colorfully while he pushed Sam as casually behind him as he could.

"Hello, Eric."
bloodnbadthings: (caught: dark: looking up)
Dean watched Sam emerge from the bathroom after his shower. Definitely not the scrawny kid he'd been last time Dean saw him. What were they feeding him at Stanford? Jesus. He shook his head a little.

While Sam was showering, he'd looked through Dad's journal again and read the articles Sam pulled up on the laptop. He nodded at the question. "Looks like Dad's sort of thing. Figure if I drive all night, we can be in Colorado in another two days, tops. Maybe less."

Not ideal, but it was the best he could do. Unless... "Unless you wanna break into a morgue somewhere and grab us a body bag. Guess I could ride out the day in the trunk while you're driving..."

Jesus, fuck, he didn't want to do that. He would, but it kind of felt like a nifty game of Russian roulette.


((Continued from here.))

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Dean Winchester

September 2017

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