Dean was tired.
He rubbed his eyes, staring at the clock. He picked up his phone and called Helen.
"Have you heard from Sammy?"
The negative response he received made him sigh and hang up with no goodbye. Helen would understand, after all he'd been calling her for the last three days.
He'd been trying to follow Sam for over a week. He wasn't any closer than he was when he started. They'd been together in a motel, recovering from a hunt. When Dean woke up, all trace of Sam was gone. His bag, laptop, books, notes, everything. Dean was lucky he had put dad's notebook on his nightstand, maybe he'd have taken off with that as well.
What really pissed Dean off?
Sam took off with his car.
Sam took off with his car.
Every time Dean thought about that, he felt like throwing something. His phone clenched tightly in his hand, Dean took a deep breath. He may not be into the yoga-meditation-shit, but he did know a calming breath kept his phone intact today.
Staring at the pie he'd ordered in an attempt to lift his spirits, he poked It with his fork. The poking released the steam from in it and he took a big whiff. It wasn't his favorite, but it would do. Shoveling a bite into his mouth, he thought about any news articles lately. There was one…
Maybe he should just go without Sam. He'd call eventually.
Another bite. Another sigh. A long, lingering blink. Dean felt like he hadn't slept in ages. Since he picked Sam up for hunting, he had slept better than he had in years. He felt happy. At peace. Content when Sam was around.
Now that Sam was gone, Dean couldn't sleep.
He flipped up his phone, dialing the number by memory. Shoveling another piece of pie into his mouth, he listened to it ring. "This is Sam, please leave a message."
"Sam… Just… Call me. Okay?"
He sighed again. He just never knew what to say around Sam. Hell, apparently even to Sam's voicemail. His brother was always tripping him up somehow.
The pie was gone, the drink was finished, and Dean couldn't remember when that happened. He ran his fingers through his hair, groaning to himself.
"Fucking fuck, Sam. Where the hell are you?"
Dean jumped when his phone rang while clutched in his hand. Glancing at the name on the caller ID, he flipped his phone open.
"Sam? Where the hell are you?.. What do you mean you don't know?.. Just calm down. I'll be there. Just… Stay where you are."
That kid will be the death of him. But without him Dean just felt…
Lost.
