Dean clenched his jaw as he listened to the message for the third time.
They'd pulled in to a rest stop moments earlier to stretch their legs and for Sam to use the bathroom. Now Dean leant against the hood of the Impala while he waited for Sam to come back, taking the opportunity to listen to Bobby's frantic call for help one more time.
"Dean, it's Bobby. Listen, I need your help. I'm on a job down in Jacksonville, but it's gone bad. Thought I was dealing with a shifter but it's much worse than that. I…"
That was when the message degenerated into a series of curses and yells, a single gunshot and then ominous silence. They'd both strained to hear something, anything, that might give them a clue as to what was going on but frustratingly they'd come up with precisely zero. Dean had seen the question in Sam's eyes, the fear that maybe they'd just heard Bobby's last moments, but he refused to even entertain the thought. The elder hunter would be ok.
He had to be.
Dean looked up as Sam walked across the parking lot carrying two coffees. He handed one to his brother when he got near enough and received a grateful nod in response.
Dean took a long sip, feeling the warmth spread through him and the caffeine kick start his senses. He'd been driving on autopilot for the last few miles, having been awake now for almost eighteen hours, but even though it was nearly 1am neither of them wanted to stop knowing that Bobby could be on borrowed time already. Sam had offered to drive but Dean had refused. At least this way he felt like he was actually doing something.
Sam sipped his own coffee, watching Dean out of the corner of his eye. He knew his brother was practically asleep on his feet which was partly why he'd suggested pulling into the all night garage when he'd seen the sign. He understood why Dean insisted on driving but he'd just as soon they didn't end up wrapped round a tree. He was feeling the pull of sleep himself but worry about Bobby and a need to keep an eye on his brother were helping him stay awake so far.
"So how much longer do you think?" he asked and Dean glanced at him and shrugged, wincing a little as his bruises had stiffened up after so long in the car.
"Five hours, maybe. We'll find out where he was staying when we get there and hopefully we can work out exactly what it was he thought he was hunting. Let's just hope they don't have too many places to bed down."
"Looking at the map the town seems pretty small. We should be able to spot his car at least, if nothing else."
"Assuming he didn't take it with him wherever he was going." Dean replied and Sam sighed.
"Good point."
Dean drained the last of his coffee and walked over to a trashcan, dropping the empty cup into it.
"Come on, let's get moving again."
Sam nodded, quickly finishing his own drink and getting back in just as Dean started the engine.
As it was they made it in just over four hours, Dean pushing the car and himself to the limit. They drove round the deserted streets and Sam was just about awake enough to spot the distinctive blue of Bobby's classic as they passed their third motel. Dean stood on the brakes, screeching to a stop, and reversed so he could turn in. Pulling up alongside the car he let Sam go and book them in - since he wasn't sure he could form a coherent sentence anymore - and got out, blinking as the cool air woke him up slightly. Bobby's car was locked, as he'd expected, and there was no sign of anyone trying to get into it. He saw Sam on his way back from the reception and walked round to the Impala again, Sam waving a key at him as he approached.
"Room 309. Bobby was in 308. I recognised the alias on the register."
"Nice work." said Dean, approvingly, as he opened the trunk so they could get their bags out.
They quickly dumped them in their room, grimacing a little at the décor, and quietly came back outside. Sam kept watch while Dean made fast work of the lock on Bobby's room and moments later they were in.
Since there was a light directly outside the window they didn't switch any on inside, just in case the guy at reception was paying attention, although they did both turn on their flashlights. The room was neat and tidy but unfortunately had no closet, which was a pain since that was where they knew Bobby usually liked to keep newspaper cuttings and reports. Dean had already checked all the drawers and the bedside cabinet when Sam suddenly remembered something and he pulled back the covers on the bed, lifting up the mattress.
"Hey," he said quietly, looking triumphant as he pulled out several bundles of paper.
Dean clapped him on the shoulder.
"You're on a roll tonight, Sammy."
They sat down on the bed and Sam handed him half the papers. As they flicked through them quickly Dean rubbed his eyes more than once to try and get them to focus properly. In the end he gave up.
"Come on, let's take these next door. I'm gonna need more caffeine and a decent light to make any sense of this."
They grabbed Bobby's bag as they left, knowing it would be safer with them, and made it back to their own room without being seen. Sam dropped the bag next to theirs as he switched the lights on and, locking the door behind them, Dean took off his jacket and made a beeline for the kettle. He was relieved to see some sachets of coffee and two mugs sitting on the side next to it.
Sam meanwhile sat down on one of the beds, spreading the papers out in front of him. He'd already skimmed through half of them by the time Dean came over, handing him a steaming mug.
"Thanks. Ok, well I can see why Bobby thought it was a shifter. It looks the like the right MO, even down to skin shedding and the conflicting police reports. There's been a series of robberies in all the small towns in this area, ending with this one. The jewellers and the post office here were hit last week, three days before Bobby arrived according to the date I saw on the register. He must have been tracking it."
"But he said on the phone it wasn't a shifter – it was something worse. What could have the same MO but be worse? I mean Bobby's not easily freaked out but he sounded seriously frantic in that message."
Sam frowned.
"I'm not sure. I'll check online, see if there's anything that has obvious similarities to the shifter."
Dean nodded.
"I'll check Dad's journal. Bobby's bound to have some of his books with him as well."
It was the sound of a car backfiring outside that jerked Sam from his sleep. He sat bolt upright, wincing at the bright sunlight shining through the window. It took a few seconds to work out where he was then it came back to him. He looked across the room and smiled slightly when he saw Dean was sprawled on the bed, one of Bobby's books half open across his chest, sound asleep.
Clearly Sam hadn't been the only one who'd hit the wall sometime around dawn.
Standing up he winced as his back cracked, making its own protest about sleeping hunched over a table. He yawned and walked across to the kitchen area to make yet more coffee, glancing at his watch and seeing it was just after 8:00. Last thing he remembered it had been about 6:00 so at least they hadn't slept too long, although his body was helpfully pointing out that wasn't really a good thing. Filling up the kettle he set it to boil and walked over to Dean's bed, nudging his brother's leg with his knee.
"Dean. Wake up."
Dean mumbled something and gripped the book tighter. Sam couldn't help grinning, shaking his head slightly as he tried again.
"Dean, someone's stealing the Impala."
Dean's feet were actually on the floor and moving before his eyes were open, the book landing with a thud on the carpet. He blinked and staggered slightly, his balance working to catch up with the rest of him, and hearing sniggering he focused his attention and saw Sam watching him with a seriously amused look on his face.
Realisation dawned and the bleary eyed look became a glare.
"Dude, that's not funny."
"Was from where I was standing. Anyway, it got your attention."
Dean muttered something under his breath and Sam went back to making the coffee, still chuckling to himself. Stooping down to pick up the book Dean checked it for damage, knowing what Bobby was like, and satisfied it was ok he tossed it on the bed with the others. Walking over to the window he glanced out and after seeing the Impala was still sitting where he'd left her, he turned round and leaned back against the windowsill.
Sam came over and handed him a mug, slightly warily. Dean shook his head.
"Relax, I wouldn't waste the caffeine. You might want to consider sleeping with one eye open though."
Sam smirked but said nothing, knowing when to quit while he was ahead. Dean drank half the coffee, ignoring how hot it was, and glanced down at the papers spread across the table.
"So did you have any luck?"
"No, but then I think I must have fallen asleep the same time you did."
Dean rubbed the back of his neck frustratedly.
"There's nothing in any of those books that can shed its skin and mimic a person, nothing that isn't a shifter anyway. You're sure that's the MO in all these robberies?"
Sam nodded.
"Positive. And all of the people they've arrested swear they didn't do it, despite the physical evidence. They all claim to have been knocked out just before each robbery occurred. Cops are treating each one as an individual case - no one's spotted the pattern yet since the towns are pretty far apart."
"No one except Bobby."
"Right."
Dean swallowed the rest of his coffee and took the mug back to the sink.
"So why did he say it was worse than a shifter in that message? And where was he when whatever it was attacked him? You saw that room, there was no way he was taken from there. Which means he must have been following up on a lead when he ran into it."
Sam looked thoughtful.
"I could see if the cell company could give us a location based on his last call. It's worth a shot."
"Good idea. If we can at least check out where he was taken we may find a clue as to what this thing could be. You do that and I'm gonna grab a shower, ok?"
"Yeah, just don't use all the hot water."
Dean grinned at him.
"Would I?"
Rolling his eyes Sam picked up his phone and powered up the laptop from its standby state. A quick search gave him the number he was looking for and after ten minutes spent employing all the charm he could muster, he had the grid reference they were looking for. He was just checking the map when Dean came out of the bathroom.
"I got it. According to this it's about three miles from here, out on one of the trails by the river."
Dean grimaced.
"Of course it is. You know just once I'd like to take a job that doesn't involve trees or rivers."
Sam grinned.
"I'll make a note. Although in fairness it looks like just the river this time. The forest is on the other side."
"Oh well, that makes it so much better. We've had such good experiences with water."
"Maybe our luck will change. Anyway, why don't you get the stuff together. I won't be long."
Dean picked up the weapons bag as Sam hurried into the bathroom, still mumbling about trees and the great outdoors in general. His mood did improve briefly when he heard a yell followed by some pretty inventive swearing.
Maybe a cold shower would remind his brother not to joke about the Impala in future.
Sam looked distinctly less amused when he came out five minutes later but let it go before things ended up escalating as they always did. He took the proffered hand gun and knife, tucking one into his boot and one into the waistband of his jeans. He saw Dean had also taken out some rope, two flares and a bag of salt. He watched as his brother put the flares and salt in his jacket pockets and handed him the rope.
"You sure you got enough there, Dean?" he asked with an amused look and Dean shrugged.
"Pays to be prepared, Sam, you know that."
Sam couldn't really argue given previous experience but it still didn't stop him smiling slightly as he watched Dean mentally run through a list in his head, trying to think of anything else they might need.
Clearly having decided they had everything they could carry Dean picked up the motel room key and unlocked the door. Sam grabbed the map on his way past and folded it so the area they were looking for was showing on top.
"Come on then, Sasquatch, let's get this over with." Dean said and Sam resisted the urge to elbow him as he went past, only out of deference to the bruises from the previous day. He really did look forward to the day Dean grew out of the whole nickname thing.
It didn't take them long to reach the co-ordinates Sam had carefully pencilled on the map and they stopped, looking around for anything out of place.
"Not exactly the most logical place for an ambush." Dean remarked and Sam had to agree.
"True, it is pretty open."
It was in fact extremely open, the path edged on one side by the fast flowing river and on the other by a wide expanse of grass leading to a road some distance back. On the other side of the water the forest stood tall and imposing as far as the eye could see, but the distance was too wide for anyone to cross easily, not to mention the strong currents.
Dean crouched down, studying the ground.
"There's too many footprints to tell if the ground's been disturbed. Doesn't look like they've had any rain for a while either, so the wind's just blowing the dust and sweeping them all away. Which is helpful."
"Yeah. This path is probably used by people from the town walking their dogs or runners. Could be there's been thirty or forty people come by here since Bobby called us last night."
"Perfect."
Dean scanned the ground anyway while Sam straightened up and walked further into the grass, heading towards the road. He stopped, deep in thought, jumping a little when Dean's shoulder brushed his arm as he came to stand next to him.
"Anything?"
Sam shook his head.
"No, but I was thinking – what if it wasn't a creature? Bobby said it was worse than a shifter, so what if he meant worse as in harder to understand? You've said it yourself, demons you get but people are just crazy. If it was a 'someone' and not a 'something' then they could have had a car somewhere along this road."
Dean frowned.
"And what, they took Bobby with them?"
Sam looked uncomfortable.
"Maybe. In some form or another."
He didn't elaborate but he didn't need to. The grim look on Dean's face showed that he understood more than he wanted to.
"Alright, so what if it was a person – how do you explain these people that the police have arrested? You said the cops had physical evidence they were at the crime scene, right? And there's the skin shedding. No, this points to something in our line of work, Sam, not just your average psycho."
Sam sighed.
"Yeah, ok. I was just clutching at straws, I know."
Dean put his hand on Sam's shoulder and gave it a quick squeeze.
"Hey, don't worry about it. Right now we can't rule anything out."
Sam gave him a brief smile, appreciating the effort.
"I guess. I just wanna find him, Dean."
"I know. Me too." said Dean, softly.
They spent the next hour searching every inch of the riverbank and surrounding area but there was nothing to show Bobby had ever been there. Dean was trying hard to keep calm but lack of sleep, too much caffeine, and plain old worry were stretching his nerves to breaking point. Glancing over at Sam and seeing him roll his head to stretch tense neck muscles told him that his brother was feeling the same. Dean walked back over.
"Come on, we're wasting time here. Whatever took Bobby didn't leave us any clues – we might as well go back to the motel and go over these reports again. We gotta be missing something."
Sam's shoulders slumped dejectedly.
"I suppose so. We should grab some food on the way though. We drink anymore coffee on empty stomachs we're gonna be too wired to even think straight."
"No argument here."
With one final look round they both headed back towards the town.
If either of them had glanced back, they might have noticed two eyes that gleamed briefly in the sunlight then disappeared back into the darkness of the bushes at the side of the road.