"Who's this?"
"It's me, Uncle Bobby." Dean couldn't quite hide the shake in his voice.
"Who is me?" Came the rough respond in Uncle Bobby's best don't-mess-with-me-voice. Though, there was no recognition in his tone. Dean gripped the phone tighter and pressed it against his ear.
"Dean." He finally squeaked out. "Dean Winchester, sir." Please help me, please.
There was silence for a moment and Dean already thought he had hung up. But then Bobby spoke again. "Dean, is that you?"
"Yes, Uncle Bobby. It's me." Now he couldn't stop the tears any longer. Clinging to the phone like it was a lifeline Dean let out the sobs he had denied himself for the last hours.
"It's okay, boy."Uncle Bobby reassured him, his voice was now full of affection and worry. "Just tell me what happened."
Dean wiped his nose with the too long sleeve. "I got kidnapped but I escaped." He couldn't help to feel proud of the last part. "But I don't now where dad is and I … I lost Sammy." The last words came out as a hoarse whisper. Dean bit his inner cheeks to stop himself from crying like a frigging girl.
"We will sort this out." Bobby promised and Dean believed him. "Are you somewhere safe?"
"I..." Dean had to clear his throat. "I broke into a house. I don't think anybody will be home for a while."
"That's good. You did good." Just hearing Uncle Bobby's voice was enough to give Dean hope. Everything would be fine. "Now tell me exactly what happened."
"Yes, sir." Dean told him everything, beginning with him falling asleep in the Impala. "And then I called you." He finished. On the other end of the line he could hear Bobby thinking.
"The injured man, what did he look like?"
"I couldn't see his face." Dean tried to remember anything special about that man.
"His hair. Was it short and spiky or more overdue for a haircut?"
"Overdue for a haircut by at least three years."
"Tall kid in his early twenties?" Bobby sounded a little stressed now.
"Yeah? Do you know him?"
"Was he alive?" He asked instead of an answer.
"Think so." Dean shrugged. For all he cared the bastard could die in his sleep. Might be better for him too, because his dad would pummel him into next week as soon as he got his hands on him.
"Good." Maybe Bobby wanted him alive to have a word with him, too. Dean grinned at that thought. That guy was so dead. "Sunny Side Motel?" Bobby repeated the name.
"Yes, sir."
"Do you know which town?"
"No, sir. Sorry." Dean mentally kicked himself. There must have been a sign near the motel but the thought of looking for it never crossed his mind.
"No problem. Look around, is there a newspaper or some mail laying around?"
On a side-table Dean found some letters.
"OK, listen, boy." Bobby said after he had written down the address. "I've to make a call or two. Are you safe where you are?"
Dean rolled his eyes. "I told you, the house is empty for at least a couple of hours. I can slip out of the back door if I have to."
"Back to smart mouth, are we?" Dean could hear the smile in his voice. "Stay put and call me back in about ten minutes, can you do that?"
"I'm ten, I can read the clock."
Another moment of silence. "Yeah, you're a big boy. Ten minutes." With that he hung up. Dean looked at the phone and let out another sigh. With the familiar voice gone he felt lonely. But Uncle Bobby knew where he was and was working on a solution. Everything would be fine soon.
While he waited Dean could probably do something useful. He looked around. He was in a kitchen which meant two things: food and weapons.
A minute later he sat at the kitchen table stuffing himself with leftover pancakes and had the biggest knife he could find within easy reach.
When Dean called him back, Uncle Bobby answered the phone after the first ring.
"How are you doing?" Was the first thing he asked.
"I'd love to get outa here." Dean had kept an eye out but the street remained empty. His kidnappers were out there searching for him, that was for sure.
"I checked your location and I'm on my way in a second but I'm three days out." Bobby paused while the information sunk into Dean's mind.
Shit. He couldn't stay in town for three days, they would get him. "I can hitchhike, meet you somewhere in the middle." He wasn't fond of that idea especially since he didn't now where his family was. What if his dad was already in town searching for him? And, you know, human monsters, police and all that stuff.
"No, Dean. No." Uncle Bobby interrupted his thoughts. Dean could hear him taking a deep breath to speak but he didn't say anything.
"Uncle Bobby?" Something felt wrong. What was it that he didn't tell him?
"Dean, you trust me, right?" Uncle Bobby finally said.
"Of course I do."
"The man you saw in the bed." He began but stopped searching for words. "I know him. I called him. He's on his way to pick you up."
"What?" Dean nearly dropped the phone. "But … why?" Dean's eyes darted towards the back door. He could run, hide under some bushes.
"Dean, please. Listen to me. He's a friend of mine. Your dad knows him too. It's okay." He was pleading but the words washed over Dean's mind. Uncle Bobby had sold him out. How could he do that? Why? He trusted him.
"Dean?"
"I'm here." He had the knife in his fist.
"Just trust me. Please?" Uncle Bobby begged. "He didn't kidnap you and he will not hurt you. I promise. I'd never allow somebody to hurt you. You know that, right?"
Dean shifted from one foot to the other. His instincts told him to run. But this was Uncle Bobby. He wouldn't lie to him, right?
Then another thought crossed his mind. Fort Douglas. That thing had almost killed Sammy. Because Dean hadn't watched out for Sammy. Because Dean hadn't done his job. The way his dad looked at him since that night.
"Did ..." His voice broke. He was afraid to ask but he needed to know. "Did dad gave me away?"
"What? No!" Bobby yelled in honest surprise. "Dean, your daddy loves you. I know he was never really good in showing it but he loves you. He would never give you away. He'd die to keep you safe."
"Really?" His voice was small but for the moment he didn't care.
"Really." Bobby took a deep breath. "Dean, please? Will you stay with this friend of mine? He can explain everything to you. And I'm on my way, I'll be there in three days."
Dean chewed his bottom lip. "Okay, Uncle Bobby."
His dad had left him and Sammy with almost strangers before but never in a cloak-and-dagger operation like this. And Dean had always known where Sammy was.
So when he heard the rumble of a car outside he made his way through the back door and circled around. He hold the knife pressed to his leg, in hand but out of sight for nosy neighbors.
Then the car parked in front came in sight and Dean stopped dead. There stood the Impala, black and shiny in the early sun.
For a second Dean hoped to see his father but the man getting out of the car was definitely not his dad. He looked around and spotted Dean at the corner of the house. A smile crossed his sweaty face.
"Dean." Was all he said and it seemed to cost him a lot of energy. Wary Dean stepped closer. The man looked sick. Sweaty hair was plastered to his forehead and he leaned into the car as if he needed the support to stay upright. Dean could outrun him anytime.
"Where did you get the car?" Dean reached the passenger side and peeked inside but kept an eye on the guy. No Sammy inside and Dean wasn't sure if it was a good or a bad sign.
"Your dad." He wanted to say more but he simply had no breath for more words. "Please, come with me." The speaking sucked the last energy from him and the man slummed into the driver's seat.
"Dude, you sure you can drive?" Dean still had no idea what was going on but this guy meant no danger. He climbed into the familiar passenger seat. "Maybe you should have let your partner drive."
The man didn't answer. Slowly they made their way back to the motel. The white-knuckled death grip on the wheel and the constant blinking told Dean to not pester him with questions. He was happy the guy managed to keep his eyes open long enough to reach the motel without crashing. The lot was still full and they parked on the side. Maybe in the exact spot where the car had been when Dean had escaped.
At the motel door the man dropped the key and nearly face-planted next to it when he tried to pick it up. Shoving him into the wall to keep him upright, Dean got the key and let them in. With unsteady steps the man made his way straight towards his bed.
"Dean, please stay." Was the last he said before he dropped boneless into the mattress.