Dean

Dean Winchester sat at the table in his motel room, twirling his phone in his hands. His pistol sat on the table beside him as his little brother Sam slept soundly on one of the two queen sized beds in their motel room in Chesterton, Indiana. As much as Dean hated being in motel rooms, he couldn't complain about this one. It was well kept, clean, even came with its own little kitchen area. The only things wrong with it were the cold showers, the chipped paint in the walls, and the occasional static t.v., but those were all things Dean could live happily with. Truth is, this was the best home he's had in months. He'd settled into this place nicely. He and Sam had both started school here and they'd both ended up making a couple good friends, which was a rare occurrence for the both of them. If they weren't hunting all the time, Dean wouldn't mind living here.

"C'mon Dad, where the hell are you?" Dean whispered to himself, not taking his eyes off his phone, hoping it'd light up with a call. It'd been two weeks since Dad had disappeared on a hunt and Dean had gotten no word from him. That wasn't like his father. Sure, his father rarely ever called, but he never was gone two straight weeks. If there was a delay in the hunt, Dad would've called after the first week to at least let him know he was going to be late. Dean had a feeling deep in his gut that something was very wrong.

With a sigh, Dean stood up and paced back and forth across the room. He rechecked the salt lines on the door and windows, doing anything to keep his mind off his missing father. Dean wanted to call, more than anything he wanted to call his dad, but he couldn't. He had to show his dad that he trusted him and he had too much pride to say he was worried. He knew chances were his dad was fine because his dad was always fine. The investigation was probably just taking longer than expected. Any minute now, John would be walking through that door asking for a beer and then would launch into his tale of the hunt, just like he always did.

Just then, Sammy rolled over from the bed and groaned. For a moment, Dean thought he'd woken him, but when all he could hear was Sam's deep breathing, he knew he was still asleep. Dean stood there for a moment, just watching his little brother sleep. He almost laughed seeing the books sprawled out across the bed. Sam had spent all night studying. The kid could be such a nerd. He'd asked about Dad a few times too, and all Dean could tell him was that he hadn't heard anything, but he was sure Dad was fine. He could tell Sammy was worried, and he hated it. He just wanted his dad back.

Dean sighed and decided he better try and get some sleep before the next day. It was already three in the morning. Dean lied down on the other bed, keeping his gun tucked tight underneath his pillow. He always slept on the side closest to Sam's bed. If anything, or anyone, tried attacking them through the night, they'd be dead before they hit the ground.

"Watch out for Sammy." That was what John always told Dean before he left for a hunt.

And that was always what Dean did.

"Dean, wake up," a voice said, causing Dean to jump. He opened his eyes to the face of his little brother standing in front of him, already looking irritated. Dean groaned, shoving Sam's hands away from him. His eyes felt like they were being pinned shut. Dean didn't remember what time he fell asleep, but he knew it couldn't have been long ago. All he wanted was one more hour…

"C'mon, Dean!" Sam yelled this time, shaking him some more. "We're going to be late for school and I have an algebra test first class!"

"Alright, alright!" Dean yelled back, sitting up in his bed. For a moment he just sat there, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "I swear you're the only kid I know that gets excited for a test."

Dean looks up at his little brother and sees a grin spread across his face. "That's because I am the only kid you know," he said with a laugh.

"Shut up," Dean said with a roll of his eyes. He kept his blue and white plaid shirt that he fell asleep in on and threw on a new pair of denim jeans. As he was lacing his boots, he watched Sam rummaging through the fridge. "Hey get me something, would ya? A body as good as mine needs fuel to run, Sammy."

"We're all out of food, Dean," Sam said, a solemn look on his face. "All we have are cheese slices and Dad's beer."

Dean sighed, trying to hide the pain that caused him. He hated not having any food for Sam. There was nothing he hated more than the sound of Sam's stomach grumbling at night. Their dad was supposed to bring home groceries after this hunt. Yet another reason why Dean was worried. They'd been low on food before, but Dad had always made sure they had at least something to sustain them until he ran some more credit card scams and got them more cash. All Dean had was about a hundred bucks and he didn't know how long he'd need that to last them.

"Alright, let's stop at the gas station then," Dean answered, playing it off cool like he always did. "I could use some pie anyways."

The car ride to school was silent for the most part. Dean ate his pie and Sam busied himself in his books, cramming for the algebra test he had first period. Dean took the time to enjoy the ride in the Impala. There was no greater feeling to Dean than taking a cruise in his Baby with Sammy and his dad, listening to classic rock, and eating some damn good pie or a nice juicy cheeseburger while he did so. That was his paradise. He almost had a heart attack when his dad gave him the keys for his sixteenth birthday. It was the best gift his dad had ever given him.

"Hey, Dean?" His twelve-year-old brother asked from the passenger seat, breaking the silence. Dean looked over at his brother and already knew the question. Dean knew everything about his little brother, and by the slight frown on his face and his brown eyes, just a bit wider than normal, Dean could tell he was worried. "Have you heard from Dad? Shouldn't he be back by now?"

Dean was silent a moment, choosing his words carefully. The last thing he wanted to do was worry Sam. "No, I haven't," he answered truthfully. "but, I'm sure Dad's fine. He's been late before." Dean had to avert his eyes solely to the road. He couldn't look at his brother and tell him honestly that he was convinced his dad was okay.

"Yeah, but this late?" Sam asked, echoing Dean's concerns. "And he usually calls."

"I don't know, Sam," Dean answered, getting agitated. "I'm sure he just got caught up. He's a busy man, probably just forgot. Hell, he's probably on the way back home right now."

"Don't you think we should call him?" Sam pressed.

Dean sighed. "No, Sam. We have no reason to. It's just another hunt. Hunts are as easy as riding a bike for Dad. He probably just had to do a little more investigating. You never know what you'll run into on a hunt." Dean wasn't sure if he was trying to comfort Sam or himself more.

"Dean, how can you be so sure he's not in trouble?" Sam asked. Dean could tell by the way his already high-pitched voice was rising that he was getting worked up. Dean chanced a glance at his brother and saw his eyes dampening. "He could be hurt right now, alone. Dean, for all we know he could be—"

"Dad's fine!" Dean bellowed, his deep voice bouncing off Baby's windows. He'd definitely been given his dad's voice. "I mean, come on Sam, this is Dad we're talking about! He wouldn't let a monster get the freakin' drop on him. If Dad was in trouble he'd have found a way to tell us."

Sam didn't answer, so Dean looked over. Sam was staring at the window and Dean could see tears streaking down his young face. Dean sighed, instantly feeling guilty. All he wanted to do was comfort Sam and instead, he made the poor kid cry. Dean was lying to his brother and to himself saying he wasn't worried. Maybe it was time he did find out…He'd take whatever scolding he got from his dad if it meant knowing he was okay and that he could reassure Sam. He refused to have his brother worrying himself sick like Dean was.

"Okay," Dean said, calming himself down. "If we don't hear anything from Dad by tonight, we'll call alright?"

Sam glanced at his brother and nodded, wiping away some of his tears that he was trying so hard not to let fall. "Okay, Dean," he said, and then that was the end of the conversation.