A/N: This came about because of another fic I'm writing about Dean's wallet, so expect a more plotty fic soon. Please Enjoy.
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A Few Things Not Found In Dean's Wallet And Some That Are
1. Social Security Card, since it would be bad to have the cops find out that he's a dead man, which that would contradict everything in his wallet, let alone his existence in the handcuffs.
2. His wallet is scuffed, leather discolored and scraped from being tossed about. It's just a few years younger than him, but made from good leather, else it wouldn't have lasted this long. There are three things Dean owns that he has always known; his wallet, his car, and himself. All the same, he doesn't have pictures in the worn leather folds.
3. Condoms, because he's smarter than that and buys them fresh (plus his stash is rolled up with the socks in his duffle bag).
4. Dean deals with religion on a daily basis. He knows Latin, prayers and all the saints the Catholics decided were worthy (and some that weren't ordained). Sometimes in the rush of things, he'd have prayer cards shoved loosely in his wallet. For the longest time a prayer card for Saint Alban resided within the confines of bills and cards, but never has the prayer card for Saint Maria Goretti, Patron Saint of Virgins, been near his wallet. Nor ever will.
5. Paperclips, something he needs to work on.
6. Dean doesn't have a credit card in his wallet; he has seven. Once, he had about ten but had to burn them quick since he accidentally used a name of a known serial killer, and for a short time had the Feds following his trail instead of the murderer. Took him two months to shake them off his trail and another five to get back the kind of credit he was swimming in before the ordeal.
1. Nuzzled between the Lincolns and the Jacksons are an array of receipts, some from meals, others from gas. Every few nights Dean counts his earnings and losses in a small rectangular balance book. Pool games are always pluses, ammunition kills them though with silver being quite pricey. Strangely enough the largest minus to his balance is always salt. He goes through the math twice without a calculator then throws the white bits of paper in the trash; wallet free to accept new uncounted expenses.
2. Hidden behind his current ID lives a browning folded up piece of lined paper that hasn't been touched in years. Between the fading blue lines are beautiful curves of letters spelling out feelings of love and a life that was. The letter was never addressed to him but he knows the hand that wrote it loved him too.
3.Under a few credit cards lies a single blue balloon. It had a partner that met a watery violent end.