tw: referenced kidnapping, neglect
summary: Dean goes back to the sister camp to continue his investigation.
word count: 1,442
His lunch shift was quickly approaching, but he'd quite frankly expended his capacity for summer camp things at the moment. If he got in trouble, so what? He wasn't here to serve food to screaming children or sing kumbaya around a campfire.
He was here to save some people, hunt a thing, and that was what he was going to do.
It didn't take him long to slip back over the Sparrowhead property line and back into the girl's camp area. Now that he was more familiar with the area and less stressed out about being caught, he noticed how eerie an empty summer camp was.
It was like something straight out of a horror movie.
He scoffed a little at his own, casual thought.
No freaking kidding it was.
He did another once-over of the taped-off cabin just in case he'd missed something, but it didn't appear that he had, and he was eager to see where that creek led. With no footprints or drag trail on the other side, and a distinct drop in EMF, this thing had to have dragged them either down or up stream, and he'd bet money on it being the former.
The reading outside the shower house and along the mostly-faded drag trail had waned, but in the water, it was still strong.
The counselors were obsessed with a Colorado-based brand of sandals called Chacos, and while he usually scoffed at Cade's discourses about how he was pretty sure Jesus wore Chacos, he had to admit a pair of the strapped sandals would be nice right about now.
However, when he reached into the creek, he could touch the bottom before the water covered his elbow, so he decided that, for the time being, he'd settle for walking along its edge. If it didn't lead anywhere, he'd climb in.
His readings stayed strong as he quickly progressed up the stream, through the woods, able to ignore his compass thanks to his built-in way back to his starting point.
He continued without event for about a ten-minute's brisk walk, then the creek curved around a particularly large tree and flowed into a towering cliff he hadn't realized was there.
The uneven surface of the mountain sent a spike of excitement through the boy's chest.
A perfect monster hide-out if ever he'd seen one.
However, the cliff face was riddled with cracks and crevices, any number of which could end up being the entrance to a boogeyman's cave. This was probably going to take a while.
He spent the next hour running his hands along the rock and dirt which made up the cliffside, then measuring EMF, and repeating. Around the time the sun was on the edge of beginning its decent on the western side of the sky, he finally struck gold.
An innocent-looking crack turned out to be hollow on the other side, and the EMF matched the potential lead, once again spiking up off the charts. It would be tight, but he was confident he could fit inside–but still doubted it was the only entrance.
He was painfully aware of the fact that most monsters were larger than him, so even if it was feasible for the thing to have shoved its prey through this way, it most likely entered itself through another.
And anyway, most monster hideouts had more than one way in–and out.
He desperately wanted to charge in and think later, but Damion's voice in the back of his head was finally too loud for him to continue to ignore.
He had no clue what he was dealing with, and he'd only brought a lunch bag of salt, some matches, and a tiny vial of holy water. With no hunting buddy to speak of, he'd be lucky to get away from an encounter alive, much less having saved or hunted anyone or anything.
And, as much as he'd enjoyed pretending he wasn't enrolled in a church camp that afternoon, if he was gone for much longer, he knew they might go from annoyed with him to worried about him, and the last thing he wanted was a full-scale search.
He was supposed to be at Bible study in thirty minutes, and hopefully if he booked it, he'd get off with a warning this time.
He'd forgotten to take the trek from the showerhouse to the cliff side into account while calculating how long it would take him to get back, and he ended up being ten minutes late to the evening study. However, as he slid into an empty spot in the circle of boys on their cabin porch, mumbling an apology and digging into his backpack for the Bible Cade had given him that morning, he was met only by soft greetings from the counselor, Peter, and Ryan.
Despite being physically present, Dean's mind stayed far away, at the cliff side and the cave that was waiting for him to investigate.
He had to figure out what he was dealing with here–or at least get a lot better of an idea than he had right now. He'd try calling his dad again when he got the chance, but he was far past holding his breath for an answer.
When he'd been in the A-Frame that afternoon, he'd noticed a computer in one corner, no doubt for counselor and PC use. It might be a risky move, but it was the best one available to him, because he needed information, and he needed it fast.
They didn't have a dinner shift, so upon completion of the Bible study, they were released to freetime until their time to eat and the campfire they had scheduled afterwards. Before he could escape, however, Cade's hand was on his arm, pulling him to one corner of the cabin porch so they could talk in relative privacy.
Here it came.
"Hey, again, sorry I was late," Dean quickly spoke up before the older man could, "I went on a hike and it took longer than I thought it would."
"No worries, Man, stuff happens," Cade assured. "But, uh… did you know we had a lunch shift?"
Dean hoped the look of guilt and shock he painted on his face was more believable than it felt. "What? No, I… I thought that was tomorrow. Dude, I'm sorry, I–uh–I just…"
He was not buying this.
"Dean," he cut off the apologies steadily, his eyes drawing the teen's to meet them against his will. "I saw you leave the I earlier. I could tell you were upset."
Dean swallowed and fought back his fight-or-flight instinct.
"If you needed some time, all you had to do was ask."
The teen felt the strength drop out of his shoulders as his eyes likewise fell to the floor. "I'm sorry."
If there was one thing about this place he hated more than anything else, it was the way it made him feel like a broken kid.
"It's okay," Cade replied patiently. "I know that's not what you're used to. And I covered for you this time, so you don't even need to talk to the PCs or anything. But next time, just communicate, okay? If you'd been missing for much longer, we would have had to start searching for you."
"Okay." He swallowed hard. "I'm sorry."
"Dean." The emphasized word dragged his gaze back up to Cade's. "It's okay. Seriously." A pause, then, gently, "Do you wanna talk about your dad?"
The boy flinched a little and looked away sharply. "No. No, it's all good."
He hated the lump in his throat as he forced the words out.
Luckily, the guy at least knew when to back off. "Okay. Lemme know if you change your mind."
"Yeah." He knew he was already pushing it, so he tried not to let his voice come out too sharp. "Will do."
"Also…"
Dean just wanted this conversation to be over.
"I'm sorry about Kyle pressuring you into calling him. He pushed too hard."
Dean wasn't really used to being apologized to by people in authority over him. Sure, Caleb knew how to say he was sorry, but that was different. He didn't remember the last time his father uttered those coveted words.
He did his best not to let the way the simple act shook him show, just shrugging a little. "It's whatever."
He could tell Cade didn't like the answer, but he just nodded slightly, briefly clapping him on the shoulder before releasing him to go.
"Alright. I'll see you at dinner in thirty."
Dean nodded in his own right and turned away. That gave him enough time to hopefully locate his little brother.
