Dean sighed and let his head fall with a soft 'thump' against the window of his driver's side door. They'd been sitting in the Impala, watching the same house for hours. This guy, if he was the one going out and killing people at seemingly random, would have to leave sometime. Wouldn't he? He let out another sigh and sat up straight, then reached for his thermos of coffee.

'I should have grabbed that pie.' he thought as he took a sip of the hot, black liquid. 'Oh well, I'll grab one on the way out of town.'

"Why don't we just... I don't know, go in there?" Sam broke the silence with another stupid question. Rolling his eyes, Dean looked at his younger brother. Fresh out of college, however prematurely it was, Sam was still relearning things about the job. It always bothered him that his little brother thought he could really escape this. But with Jessica gone just like- he shook his head and looked back at the house.

"Patience, Sammy." He grumbled, taking a sip of coffee. "If he's our guy, he'll come out. He's going to get... hungry." He shuddered slightly, thinking about the last victim. If this guy wasn't their monster, he'd eat a friggin tire.

"Couldn't we just... pay him a visit? We can say it's part of the investigation. We can-"

"Tip him off that we're on to him and send him packing." Dean shook his head. "No, Sam. We stay put and watch. If we tip him off, he'll be blowing in the wind and we'll have track the son of a bitch to whatever new town he goes to."

"So we wait for him to kill someone else?" The anger was clear in his brother's voice.

"Did I say that?" Shifting, he turned so he could keep an eye on the house and look at his antsy brother at the same time. "He flies the nest, we follow. With us on his tail, he won't have the chance to kill anyone else."

Sam nodded, though Dean could tell he wanted to argue further. He hoped this problem subsided once his brother fell back into the pattern of the job. Otherwise, there'd be even bigger problems between them.

"Yeah." Sam looked away from him and at the house. "Okay."

Satisfied that Sam wouldn't ask another stupid question, Dean settled back into his seat and finished his tiny cup of coffee. Not knowing how long this would take, he had to make it last. But, oh, did he want to drink all of it. Keeping his eyes open was becoming a chore.

After an unusually silent twenty minutes, Dean heard the sound of tires crunching against dirt. He scowled, unable to see another car and knowing that his car was sitting perfectly still. She wouldn't move until he coaxed her to life.

"Where-" Sam began but stopped as they both spotted the tiny Ford, lights off, inching out of the driveway and down the road. It passed where they were sitting, flipped on its lights, then sped off towards the town. Dean flashed a grin at Sam as he turned on the Impala, the rumble of her engine filling the silence like a cat's purr.

"What'd I tell ya?" He asked before putting the car in gear and tearing off after the Ford and its liver-eating driver.