A/N: I forgot to mention that this is set sometime before the end of season one. I haven't exactly figured out the best way to switch between point of views, but unlike the first chapter, this one is in third person rather than first. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: Again, no part of Supernatural is mine.
Dean Winchester woke up to the alarm clock pitifully trying to play whatever song was on the radio station over the predominant static. He groggily rolled over to turn off the alarm and saw his brother, Sam, slouched over at the small plastic table in their decrepit motel room, staring intently at his laptop's screen.
"Sammy, how can you even see that with all of your hair in your face? God, I should start calling you Shaggy."
"It's Sam, and I can see just fine, thanks. Coffee's in the pot," Sam responded without taking his eyes off of the bright screen.
Dean pulled off the covers and stood up onto the shag carpet that seemed to have been in the room since the '70s. He shuddered at the thought of where all of the stains came from. Walking into the kitchen, he grabbed a chipped mug and poured some of the coffee into it. Dean sniffed at it before cautiously bringing the mug to his mouth and taking a sip. His face scrunched up as he spit it back into the mug.
"What the hell kind of black sludge is that? That sure ain't coffee!"
Ignoring Dean's pickiness – although, he hated to admit it, but the coffee was kind of gross and tasted like it had been sitting in the room since before he was born – Sam leaned back and focused on his brother.
"Anyway, I think I've got a case. Over the past few months, fathers of students at the University of Texas have disappeared in the same way. They just vanished, as if they weren't there to begin with. The only sign of struggle is blood by the window, and it's always the victims'."
Dean sat down at the table next to Sam, grabbing the laptop to read the news article himself. His eyes lit up at the prospect of going to a college.
"You know I'm down, kiddo. College girls . . . mmm," his tone grew serious, "will you be okay on the campus? I mean, with Stanford I just –"
"I appreciate your concern, but I'll be fine. Really. Just, let's just focus on the case and not get distracted, okay?"
Dean sighed and agreed. The Winchesters packed up their belongings, changed, and hopped into the Impala heading south towards Texas.
A few hours later, the boys checked into a slightly more decent motel and changed into their FBI suits. Straightening his simple black tie, Dean called out to his brother.
"Hey, Sam. You think these girls will know anything? I mean, they've been at school. None of them were home when their dads disappeared. Why not talk to their wives?"
"True, but maybe they know of anyone who might be mad at them and want revenge. There has to be a connection. I don't know what it could be yet. Their mothers can be interviewed as well. I just thought we should get your perverted old man phase out of the way so we could move on and focus on the case."
Sam smirked as Dean threw a pillow at his head, easily dodging the projectile object. With one last glance in the mirror, Sam followed his brother to the car. Sliding in, Sam looked out the window and rolled his eyes at Dean's choice of mullet rock. He was getting used to hearing nothing but that genre again. He got hooked on newer music when he was with Jess. Sam sighed and looked over the map to direct Dean towards the university.
When they arrived on campus, Sam and Dean headed on into the main quad trying to find a map to locate the dean's office. Dean was looking at the buildings when he felt something run into him. He looked down in time to see a girl start to fall backwards. Reaching out, he grabbed the girls elbow and helped her right herself. She looked up, startled.
Dean was taken away by her glimmering brown eyes and her chocolate brown hair that was pulled into a side braid with pieces framing her face. After a few seconds, Dean gave her one of his winning smiles and said,
"Hi, I'm Dean."
The girl pulled back and smiled politely, returning the greeting.
"Amy. Um, I'm sorry about that. I'm trying to get to my professor before he freaks out on me . . . again."
"No, no. it's my fault. Really. Hey, love the shirt," he remarked as he looked at her Metallica top, "My brother and I have a meeting with the dean, but after that, why don't we go out for a drink and we can talk about your awesome taste in music?"
She looked taken aback for a brief moment, but that was replaced with a defiant look.
"Sorry, uh, Dean, was it? I don't know what kind of girl you think I am, but I don't go out with random men after running into them. Besides, I don't drink. Now if you'll excuse me, I really must be leaving."
As she was starting to run, Dean called after her.
"Wait! Amy! Can't you at least show us where the dean's office is?"
She turned and pointed at the building a few yards away, glanced at her phone, then ran off frantically towards another building. When she got to the door, she turned back around and looked at Dean once more before going inside.
Dean was staring in her direction even after she disappeared from his line of sight. Sam waved his hand in front of his brother's face, bringing him back to reality.
"What the hell, Dean? I thought we agreed you wouldn't prey on girls here."
"Oh, ease up, Sammy. She wasn't interested anyway," Dean replied, looking a little miffed.
Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Dean walked with his brother in the direction Amy pointed them in and eventually found the dean's spacious office.
"I can give you boys the names of the victims' daughters. I don't know them well, just that they were great members of the community. I can't see any of them having enemies. Sorry I couldn't be of more use," the older gentleman said, reaching into different drawers in a filing cabinet and pulling out four manila folders. He handed them over to Sam and led the brothers to a small sitting area right outside of the office.
"Take all of the notes you need. Just don't leave with their files. You may speak to them when needed as long as it is within normal visiting hours and you are not interrupting classes. I'll be in my office if you need anything."
Sam and Dean nodded in thanks and began to pour over the files, looking for anything that may link the victims or give insight into who, or what, was behind the disappearances. After about half an hour, they handed the files back to the dean and left with a list of the girls' names and where they lived on campus as well as their home addresses and their parents' names.
"It's 1 o'clock. Why don't we grab some lunch and come back to talk to the girls in a couple of hours after most classes finish?" Dean asked.
Sam agreed and began navigating them back to the Impala. Dean couldn't get Amy out of his mind. I hope I will see her again. Maybe she'll like me if I apologized, he thought. Little did he know she was thinking of him, too.