Curtains. Carpet. Sheets. Walls.
Blood.
Dean pushed open the door surveyed the dank motel room that Sam and him would be calling "home" for the next day? Week? Who knew. Only the case could determine when they'd be on the move again.
Flooded with the bright parking lot lights, Dean saw that it was a sceevy room. The type of room that you couldn't think would get any worse, unless you looked around with a black light. Everything was bathed in red. One could assume it was to help "set the mood." You know, the "mood" you would set for a $15 hooker that sold her goods in the motel parking lot. It was everything you needed for a late, drunken, one night stand. Complete with: one nightstand, two twin beds, a dresser, tv, and a small bathroom on the far side of the room.
Sighing, Dean flipped the broken light switch to the right of the door. A dim glow filled the room and casted faint shadows of the decor. Tossing his bag to the left, Dean watched it land on the small love seat that was, you guessed it, red.
The color was overwhelming. Dean tried to shake off the uneasy feeling that sat in his stomach. For a second, a quick glimpse of Hell shot before his eyes. His breath quickened and his heart leapt. He never thought a shade of color could launch him into a flashback. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath through his nose.
Where are you, Sam?
Dean hated how co-dependent he had become on his brother, but when they were together, there was at least a distraction. Whether it was a case, getting at each other's throats, or just the company. His thoughts and memories haunted him. Sam helped keep that away.
Upon opening his eyes, he saw a very mini fridge posted up beside one of the beds. As he walked up to it, he smirked at himself.
What respectable man would leave behind any booze for the next guests?
He knew for sure he wouldn't. Sure enough, the little cooler sat empty.
Why would my luck change now?
He smirked menacingly at the thought and slammed the fridge door. A hum began to come from the machine. It was just loud enough to be annoying and Dean was already annoyed. Reaching behind the refrigerator, he yanked the cord from the wall, completely pulling out the socket.
"You've got to be fucking kidding me."
Defeated, Dean sat on the bed and stared at the wall.
Come on, Sammy.
He knew where Sam was. He knew what he was doing. He knew that there was no point in trying to interrupt or stop him. So all he could do was wait. Wait for that sick, sadistic, lying whore to get off the phone with him and let him come back to the people who really care for him.
Anger filled Dean's chest, and he jumped up from the bed. He started to pace across the room.
What Sam didn't know was that this was one of the last times he would talk to her. They weren't there for her. They were there for the case. However, after last time, Dean swore that no matter what he was doing, may it be working a case, having down time, or rotting in Hell, he was going to kill her.
Dean clenched his fists next to his sides and took a deep breath.
He would be damned if he let another demon take away another family member. Especially his brother.
After taking a moment to compose himself, Dean walked over to the love seat and retrieved his phone from his bag. Flipping it open, he hit his second speed dial and waited for it to ring. After the second tone, there was an answer.
"Bobby. Get all your things together and meet me in Grafton, Illinois. It's time."
Bobby hesitated before he said anything. "Okay, I'll be there soon. But what's it time for, Dean?"
"It's time to get rid of Ruby once and for all."
Click.
