"Alright so half is done in the first part, we know where Cain is." Dean said looking up from the map he had been working on. "Just Northeast of Springfield Missouri."
"Well that's one part done." Sam said with a sigh as he pulled away from his laptop rubbing at his eyes. "Now we just need to figure out where the Colt is."
"Any luck with that?"
"Not one bit." Sam said with slight disgust as he tossed his book onto the table. "The problem is that after being with Samuel Colt its history is gone and undocumented. For all we know it's in some sort of antique shop marked for five bucks."
"So basically, we're screwed." Dean said, rubbing his eyes. "Finding the colt or talking to Cain, either way we're screwed and in an unwinnable situation."
"At least we can talk to Cain and maybe convince him. At least we know where he is." Sam pointed out. "The Colt...that's a dead-end within a dead-end."
"Our best bet with the Colt are the hunters, we know they're paranoid sons of bitches so most likely they don't write shit down or hide things away. Like those Men of Letters we've read about." Dean said. "So that means...we need to get a hunter on the inside and..." he trailed off when he saw the look of apprehension on Sam's face.
Sam fidgeted slightly in his seat, rubbing at his eyes and shaking his head. "I got one idea." he said reluctantly. "But you're not going to like it."
John sighed as he set his duffel bag onto the bed, opening it to take out spare clothes to change into. He rubbed at his chest, remembering how Sam had easily snapped his ribs. While they were healed, the memory of the pain was still there.
It was terrifying, the whole thing about Sam and he assumed Dean. As strong and powerful as demons with none of the weaknesses, he couldn't see anything else that worked on them that they had. The one thing he knew worked was that Kurdish knife and even that is gone.
But at the same time, the thought of using that on Sam or Dean made his stomach clench. He knew that they weren't good, despite what they wanted to do with them someone isn't good when they kill over a hundred people to grab their souls for a sacrifice.
But damn if it didn't work just the way that they wanted it to.
And damn if he wasn't just a little bit proud.
Shaking his head John slipped his shirt off, throwing it onto the bed before tugging his belt free and popping open his jeans, starting to slide them down.
"I am ready to beg you not to go any further."
John started heavily, whirling around as he tried to bring his pants back up as quickly as he could, eyes widening when he saw Sam was standing there with a look of slight disgust on his face yet at the same time he was looking over Johns body.
"You...have a lot more tattoos than I thought you would." Sam commented, leaning against the wall next to the door.
"What the hell are you doing here?" John half demanded, stepping back and grabbing his shirt, quickly pulling it on.
Sam breathed out slowly, looking like he was sucking on a lemon. "I'm here...to make a new deal with you." he finally said, each word was harder to come out than the last. "Because...we need the help of a hunter."
John stared at him incredulously, wishing that he had some sort of drink. "You need my help?"
"A hunter's help." Sam corrected him. "And considering you're a hunter, you fit the criteria."
John swallowed hard, straightening up and meeting Sam's gaze. "And in return?"
Sam breathed out sharply, moving his jaw from side to side. "And in return," he said, his teeth almost gritting against each other in frustration. "Is that you get to talk to our mom, once and with supervision."
"And if she wants to talk to me again later on?" John couldn't help but ask.
"We'll get to that if it happens." Sam told him. He crossed his arms over his chest. "Willing to make that deal?"
John stared at him, weighing everything and remembering just hours ago how their last meeting had gone. And if it meant that he'd finally, finally, be able to talk to Mary...
"Alright." John said with a nod. "We have a deal."
"Good." Sam said with a smirk. "So to what the deal entails, we need your information and connections in the hunting world to find something. Once you give it to us, we'll make the meeting happen."
"And how do I know that this meeting is actually going to happen?" John asked. He already knew that he couldn't trust a demon, even if said demon was his son.
Especially if the demon is his son.
Sam reached behind him and with a flick of his wrist he opened his pocket knife. He brought it up and made a cut into his palm, letting the blood well up. He then walked over to the nightstand where the motel kept a thin notepad and pen. Sam dipped the pen into his blood and started to write, signing the bottom with a flourish.
Taking the notepad he tossed it at John, letting it land on the bed. John reached for it, looking over what Sam had written. It was simple and to the point, that per the agreement between them Sam and Dean would bring Mary to a meeting point for the two of them to meet.
"That enough or you need it notarized?" Sam asked, licking his palm to clean the blood off and when he brought his hand down John saw that the cut had already healed. "It's a deal in blood, can't break that."
He knew that, he had made a few deals of his own like that over the years and he knew that if someone tried to break it, it wouldn't be pretty.
"No, that's good." John said, reaching into his bag to take out his journal and put the notepad in between the pages. "So, what do you need from me?"
"We need the gun of Samuel Colt." Sam told him, making John freeze. "And we need it sooner rather than later."
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