Summary: John goes missing … That's all I can say for now as I haven't even written chapter two yet. That means that you (and you … and you too) actually can tell me what you would like to happen in the story ;D
Disclaimer: I own nothing … And I don't have the money to buy them either :( xD
Author's notes: I'm aware that this chapter is very, very, very short. Sorry :/
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"Dean?" a small voice coming from the other end of the room woke up Dean. His eyes fluttered open and he turned with a groan to glance at the clock on the bedside table. The green display told him that it was only 3:32 in the morning.
"Dean, are you awake?" it was his little brother's voice, and he sounded scared. The undertone woke Dean completely up in an instant, and he sat straight up on the small and uncomfortable bed.
He could barely see Sam through the dark motel room, but he was able to see a tall and lanky person sitting up on the bed closest to the window. "What's wrong, Sam?" he asked with a hoarse voice.
The forteen-year-old turned his head toward the window and whispered: "There was someone outside. Woke me up."
The words had barely left Sam's mouth, and Dean was on his feet racing towards the dirty window Sam had been looking at. He lifted the mustard colored courtain an inch and peered outside.
It was hard to see anything out there because it was so dark. Dean strained his eyes but he still couldn't see anything suspicious. "Are you sure?" he asked his brother as he let the courtain go and turned away from the window to look at Sam again.
Opening his mouth to say something, Sam was interupted by a sound coming from the motel room next to their own. Both Sam and Dean listened carefully and held their breaths. It was their father's room.
Suddenly, a painful groan was heard. Dean rushed to his bed and grasped his knife, there was no time to get out the guns. He peered out of the door, and when he was sure that no one visible was sitting in a car out there, he opened the door a little more so he could slip out. Sam followed close behind, grasping his own dagger.
Both brothers shivered in the cold night as they hurried to the door next to their own. Dean was only clad in his boxers and an old T-shirt, while Sam had been sleeping in a pair of his old sweatpants and a T-shirt that obviously belonged to Dean.
They came to a halt and Dean stepped a few steps back then kicked the door open with a load crash.