Dean kicked open the door of the motel room, gun drawn and ready to shoot something. Didn't matter what. Something. Anything to leaven the tension and frustration of the last few days.
He stopped short when he saw Alexis huddled on the bed, a blanket covering her shoulders and holding a crumpled Kleenex to her puffy, reddened eyes. She didn't look up at his entrance. All her attention was focused on the dead body sprawled on the carpet.
"Where's Sam?" Dean said. When she didn't answer, the fear rose, and he stepped closer. "Where's my brother?"
Alexis started to cry.