Heads up- this is a real short chapter, but I hope you like it!

Love to hear your thoughts =)

Thanks!
Kate

When Things Go Missing

CH 3

Twenty minutes out. He had made good time and the Impala continued to press its limits as the gauge read record speed. Dean focused on the flashing center line; slowly, he fazed out, his mind veering to thoughts of Sam. This guy could be doing anything to his brother, or he could be doing the one thing Dean feared. He tried to shake the thought off. He needed to stay sharp; he needed to stay focused. Dean glanced the road signs, his exit was in view and he slowed the Impala down and took the ramp. As he turned onto the dimly lit back street he again pressed his foot to the floor, driving up the speed to as fast as the road could be taken. Dean glanced at the clock and pushed out a determined breath. Ten minutes. He could push this and be there to save Sam in--

Ten minutes later Dean raced through the hall. At the far end of the corridor he located room 23. He pulled out his gun and tried the knob; it was unlocked. Dean pushed it open and entered. The main room was dark, yet faintly lit by a small streak of light which spilled from the slightly cracked open bathroom door. He glanced the area as he made his way toward the room. Gun up, he stepped forward and kicked open the bathroom door.

Dean's gut sickened; the room was empty. Where the fuck was his brother? He lowered his gun and his guard then spotted something. Dean walked to the tub and looked down into it; there was a small, soft, vinyl cooler. He tightened his lips and knelt down. He set his gun on the white tile floor and reached out for the case. He pulled at the zipper closure, and faster than he would have liked, had it unzipped and ready to open. He didn't brace himself, he didn't think, he simply flipped the top up and looked inside.

It was packed with ice, and deep beneath the clear wet cubes rested a dark, unidentifiable patch. This time Dean braced himself. He plunged his hand into the ice and hesitantly touched the sunken object with his finger tips; it didn't feel as he had feared, it was hard cold metal. He grabbed the object and pulled it from the ice.

Dean sat stunned as he brushed the wet residue from his brother's phone. The screen was dark and so he held down the power button and waited as it chimed back to life. The second it was on, it gave three distinct beeps. He checked the screen; there was a new text message. Dean steadied his hand as he opened the message. It read simply:

If you want him to live- call 911