Hi all, I hope you are well xx - Thank you for all your kind comments. Maybe I'll write the full story of when John first met the bikers - muse permitting :) once I'm less buried in my current WIPs. Would be a great opportunity for some weeny-wee-weechester moments.

Chapter Three

NOW: A Motel

"Caleb, please sit down," Mac sighed as his son once again started pacing the small room they were sharing with John. The Knight wasn't much better, it was like rooming with two caged tigers who prowled, growled, and occasionally took a swipe at each other.

The motel was run down and the three of them were sharing one room. Mac had been given directions to meet them here following their trip to a bar, details of which he was certain were being withheld from him. He had capitulated to his friend's way of doing things, trading the unpleasant location for an agreement from John that he would sleep. Despite the days on the road with little rest since the night Caleb had arrived at the farm, John had refused to take a break from driving.

Caleb had split his time between riding with the Knight and driving his father's town car to give Mac a break. Mac was now trying to get them to stay put until they had finished reviewing the new information while still giving his friend a small semblance of the control he was trying desperately to cling to.

Mac had arrived with copies of a newspaper they'd requested in relation to a lead they'd found. The request had worried him. He'd been trying to convince himself that the teen had simply sneaked off with a girl, something his own son was guilty of at that age. The request for the paper suggested Dean had found a hunt.

"It's just another fucking dead-end!" John slammed his fist down, the wobbly table beneath made a worrying cracking noise.

The Hope Mills newspaper for the 11th, that Joshua Sawyer had sourced and faxed to Mac, had nothing remotely suggesting the weird or the creepy, not even a car accident or freak occurrence. "You getting anything Junior?"

"More of the same. I've been trying but the only additional thing I've got for my trouble is a headache."

"Don't push too hard Son," Mac chided. "You'll not help Dean by making yourself ill." Mac had continued to try with the t-shirt of Dean's that John had given him but was also running into whatever psychic block Dean was using.

"Much as I hate to agree with the Scholar, he's right," John growled. "If it is Dean that's blocking you, he knows you well enough to know what works."

"Dean usually carries some snowflake obsidian but whatever this is, it's getting stronger," Caleb admitted dejectedly. Dean's star was still in the sky but now there were clouds fogging the view.

"Which means he's fine," Mac offered. John looked like he might argue but Mac pushed on. "It means he's increasing the strength of whatever he's using. If he were in trouble, he wouldn't do that."

John nodded but Caleb turned away not wanting either man to see his face. If Dean was hurt or struggling, he may well hide it. It wouldn't be the first time.

"The increase is slow," he mused aloud before they could get suspicious of his silence.

"Because a sudden change would alert you, instantly," John pointed out.

"I always said that boy was smart," Mac threw in.

"Yeah, well, right now, I wish he was only as smart as he looks on paper," John grumbled. Mac looked scandalised. "We'd have found him," John explained.

A knock on the door made all three look that way. John reached for his gun.

"Relax Johnny, it's only Bobby and stupid Josh."

"You shouldn't call him that," Mac chided.

"You prefer Sanford?" Caleb grinned impishly, deliberately misunderstanding his father.

"You idjits want to let us in or just insult us all day?"

"You want an honest answer to that?"

Mac cut the banter short by glaring at his son then opening the door.

"Robert, Joshua, it's good of you to come."

"Slick called me," Bobby explained.

"Why?" Caleb looked suspiciously between the two arrivals.

"Damnedest thing actually," Bobby scratched his beard, looking uncomfortable.

"What is it?" John demanded.

"He said you asked for a paper, Hope Mills?" John nodded. "Well, I heard word of a possible case not far from there. I was going to look into it but I passed it off. Shouldn't have by the looks of things."

"Bobby?" Mac approached the mechanic, looking concerned. He'd heard the guilt and worry in the other hunter's voice.

"I asked a new guy, Chad, hunter but no ring, to look into it. Figured I'd send backup if there was anything to it. Took the moron days to get there and do the preliminaries. Then he said he didn't find anything."

"So?"

"So, after I heard about Dean and then Slick called saying you were looking into the same area, I did some checking of my own. Looks like he missed something."

"Like what?"

"After he left there was a suspicious death. Female," he quickly clarified after John changed colour rapidly. "Young woman called Brandi something-or-other. But I also picked up rumours of a kid asking questions. A kid who has," Bobby pulled out his notes and cleared his throat before reading. "An angel's face and the devil's mouth."

"That's a description of my son?" John spluttered glaring at Caleb as if it was somehow his fault.

"Well, it's not the one I would have given." Josh's tone was clear, his description would have been less flattering. "But yes, we think so."

"You could have just called with this info," John's narrow eyed gaze was not friendly.

"The Guardian asked us to come," Joshua explained in a tone that suggested it was the only reason they were there.

"He's getting worried?"

"He said you'd be busy with Dean and would need someone to deal with whatever nasty is working the area," Bobby explained.

"Have you seen Dean?" Mac redirected.

"No, but if he's looking into the same case, that gives us somewhere to start."

"Where?" John and Caleb demanded in unison.

Bobby looked uncomfortable. John's eyes drilled into him.

"The victim worked at an establishment."

"What kind of establishment?"

"One not suitable for kids," Bobby admitted, avoiding Mac's eye.

SPNBROAU

NOW: The Peppermint Rabbit*

The deep base of the music thrummed through them as the scantily clad woman gyrated over the young man sat before her. The strip club Bobby had told them about was seedier even than the places Caleb occasionally visited with his college roommate, Moose. Even so, Caleb would usually have no problem keeping his eyes on the delicious sight. Right now, however he was struggling to stop them from straying to the rugged older man who was scowling at him from a seat across the table.

He had more motivation to keep his mind on the lap-dancer than avoiding the sardonic eye of his mentor, however. The known victim had worked here and if Dean was working the case, they hoped someone here had seen him.

"Handcuffs?" Caleb commented, raising an eyebrow at the woman. His fingers gently stroked the item in question, brushing her thigh in the process. She glanced down to the cuffs, not looking upset by his breach of the 'no touching' rule, but with a slight softening of her expression.

In a rush of emotion and strobe lights, Caleb was plunged into the memory with her as it flashed through her mind.

"Hey, Lacy, wait up." The dancer paused and turned, allowing the young man jogging after her to catch up. "Here, fully functional. Just try to be more careful next time."

She took the cuffs he was holding out. He'd offered to repair them after an embarrassing incident with a client. She'd been sceptical they were salvageable. A smile spread across her face as she inspected them.

"Thank you, sweetie," she smiled and leant forward, her long hair brushing his face as she kissed his cheek. Then she turned and sashayed off.

Caleb yanked himself back to the present as the woman, Lacy, smiled at him.

"Fully functional, baby," she purred.

"That's good to know," Caleb forced out, struggling to keep in character. He felt John's eyes on him. His mentor knew him too well.

The song ended and Lacy left, very happy with the size of her tip and Caleb's assurance he would look for her later. It was true, but not for the reasons she thought.

Caleb's eyes were following Lacy's butt, missing that she threw a quick smile back, hoping for more big tips later. A cough brought him back to John.

"Well?" The Knight demanded the second she was out of earshot.

"She's seen him," Caleb confirmed. A strange look twisted the older hunter's features, almost euphoric at getting closer to locating his prey, but appalled too.

"What else?" He demanded, knowing the psychic was holding back.

"She hasn't just spoken to him, she knows him."

"WHAT?" A few people at nearby tables glanced their way and John played it off until they turned back to their own business but he was like a grenade with its pin pulled.

"I can just see the headline now," the younger hunter said lightly, trying to keep the lever held down, temporarily at least. "Vagrant Father Strangles Felon Son in Brothel."

John looked like he might strangle Caleb.

"Relax Johnny, he's not dipping his wick anywhere he shouldn't. At least not right now," Caleb grinned.

"Any more of that and I'll remove your wick," John growled, finally notching his anger back to his regular grumpiness.

"Seriously, he hasn't been tasting the local cuisine, at least not as far as I can tell."

John's drilling gaze demanded more explanation.

"I think he works here," Caleb could practically see the colour rising in the older hunter's face, despite the ever-changing coloured lighting flashing around them, and rushed on. "Not out here," he was quick to clarify as John's eyes drilled into him. "Backstage, helping out."

"Jesus Christ, Caleb, you know some of these girls do more than dance." There was murder in John's eyes. Caleb took a breath and swallowed, choosing his next words carefully.

"Look, I know it's not ideal, but from what I picked up he's safe, that's something, right?" Though not as calm as he was projecting, Caleb felt reassured that the Dean in the dancer's memory had seemed fine. Besides, he was confident he'd be in a position to strangle the little brat pretty soon.

"Safe?" John spluttered, a vague wave of his hand indicating the location. "I blame you for this!"

Caleb had never taken Dean to a brothel but he had taken him a few places you wouldn't usually take a young teen. "At least we know where he is," he deflected. "This is good news."

It was true, and far worse nightmares had plagued John over the last few days. This particular nightmare hadn't even crossed his mind.

"So, more research?" Caleb asked, his eyes following a passing waitress before he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at his mentor. Though he already knew the answer was going to be negative, he had achieved his goal, John relaxed more and rolled his eyes in a way that was reminiscent of his younger son.

"I think you've done enough 'research' for the time being. I've still got to answer to Mac."

At that moment, Caleb felt the pager on his belt vibrate, He already knew it would be his father, as if the mention of his name had summoned him.

"I don't suppose you want to take this?" Caleb asked hopefully, waving it at his mentor.

"Ain't me he's calling," John even managed a ghost of a smile but they both got up and headed to the payphones.

"Hey Mac," Caleb kept his voice casual, as if they were in a coffee shop rather than one of the seedier strip-clubs he'd ever come across.

"I've got us rooms at the Marriott. Did you find him?"

Caleb paused to smile enticingly at Lacy who was passing.

"You want another dance, you just let me know, handsome," she winked, her smile warm.

There was a loaded silence. When Mac spoke again his voice thrummed with disapproval. "Have you even looked?"

"We're hoping to catch up with Deuce later," Caleb said, knowing his father would understand they'd confirmed his presence but not seen him.

"My word, is he OK?" There was a weird mix of disapprobation and hope in the question.

"Judging by what I've seen, better than OK."

"Caleb! He's sixteen!" Mac took a breath. "Are you sure …?"

"Of course you can speak to Uncle Johnny," Caleb interrupted, then held the phone towards the other hunter with a smug grin. John glowered at him but took the handset.

"You'd better call Jim," John growled into the phone before hanging up.

A small smile twitched the older man's lips.

'Yeah' Caleb thought 'leave it to Dad to explain to the Guardian where they had finally located his favourite teenager.'

John flicked his eyes towards the door in a 'let's go' signal.

SPNBROAU

THEN: Peppermint Rabbit

Dean had no luck getting in the front door of the Peppermint Rabbit. According to his source, the local strip club was where Brandi had got a job as a dancer shortly before she disappeared. He eventually managed to sneak in the back when a guy taking out some trash ducked behind a dumpster to relieve himself.

Inside, he just hoped to find someone that knew her. Instead, he stumbled onto a very large, but very drunk, guy causing trouble. By the time the bouncer arrived, Dean had managed to take the guy's legs from under him, preventing a scuffle turning into something nastier.

While drunk guy was being relocated to the aforementioned dumpster, the girl he'd been hassling, Kitty, had taken Dean through to the bar and provided him with a large serving of wings and a grateful kiss on the cheek.

Licking his fingers clean, he spotted the pool table in the corner. It was currently occupied by a couple of stumbling wannabe-yuppie-types. He could always use some cash and, since he was here …

But as he'd approached, a large strong hand had grabbed his elbow.

"Not my regulars," a gruff voice had growled in his ear.

Dean turned towards the man in alarm but there was more amusement than malice in the eyes looking down at him from the huge bar owner.

"You want money, you can earn it the right way," Bert (as the man later introduced himself) had said, dragging Dean through to the kitchen and depositing him before a large stack of dirty dishes. Dean had been ready to tell the guy exactly what he thought of that idea but Bert beat him to it.

"You've got to pay for those wings somehow. It's this or I call the police to take you home."

So, with no other choice but a whole heap of trouble all round, Dean spent the next two hours scrubbing dishes and pans.

When he was done Bert sat him at the bar with a sandwich and a bottle of light beer.

"Nothing like honest money for honest work," he said. "I hope you've learned a lesson." And he placed Dean's 'wages' next to the sandwich.

The only thing Dean had learnt was that hustling was easier, quicker, and far more lucrative than dish-washing, but the threat of the police was enough for him to hold his tongue, eat his sandwich and pocket his cash.

"You got somewhere to stay, kid?" Bert had been eyeing the fading bruises, his worn trainers and too short jeans.

"I'll find somewhere," Dean had shrugged, not wanting to give too much away.

After an awkward conversation, Dean was offered a bed for the night.

The next day he made himself useful in other ways, improving their 'bypass' wires that allowed them to get half of their electricity for free, and tuning one of the girls' cars so it no longer rattled. He was only looking to be trusted enough that they'd talk to him. He ended up becoming something of a cross between an odd job man and an adopted project by girls who worked there. They pushed Bert into letting him stay in the small flat over the bar.

And it really was hard to say no when a thong of strippers insisted you stay - Yes, he knew it should be 'throng' but come on, they're strippers.

At least he had been able to pick up some useful information on Brandi, as well as a lot of disturbing information on exactly how the girls saw most of the 'customer's' that came for more than a dance. Caleb had always been adamant that if you needed to pay for it, there was something wrong with you. Listening to the girls, mostly they felt the same.

SPNBROAU

NOW: The Marriott

Caleb was wondering if Jim had a Batmobile he was keeping to himself when he heard the Pastor's voice as they entered the suite Mac had rented them at the Marriott. But it turned out the Guardian was still in Kentucky, Mac just had him on speakerphone.

The Scholar looked up as they entered, his eyes darted behind them, a disappointed frown flashing across his lips when the door closed with only two arrivals.

Joshua was sat at a sleek glass table, wiping his hands on a moist towelette, his nose scrunched as if it had been him that had just had to walk across a club with an extremely sticky carpet. There were a number of reports open in front of him. Bobby, who had been divested of his boots, sat on a leather couch, his toe poking through a hole in his sock, and a large lore book in his lap.

It didn't take long for John and Caleb to report what they'd found. It took longer for the rest of the Triad to talk John down from storming the venue, fully armed, to take back his son. Eventually Jim put his foot down and insisted they all take a breath and make a rational decision as to their next steps.

"We're missing something," the Pastor mused.

"You mean other than my son?"

"Leaving without saying a word, hunting alone, it is not like Dean," Jim insisted.

"No, it sounds more like Johnny," Caleb said. "But then kids learn a lot just by observation." This was more true for Dean than anyone. The kid never missed a thing those close to him did, nor failed to pick up any bad habits displayed by those he cared about.

"Given where he ended up, I think this is more your influence than mine," John growled back.

"I would say it seems very typical of Dean," Joshua mumbled, not quite quietly enough. The hostility John and Caleb had been aiming at each other was suddenly all focused on him. "By my count, he's run away at least twice before," he defended his comment.

"That was different," Caleb said. Dean had run away to come to Caleb at school after a hunt went wrong. And he had taken off to take his brother the toy dragons when their grandfather had temporarily coerced custody of the youngest Winchester. But in both cases, he'd been running towards someone.

"Jim, this isn't helping," John said, moving close to the phone. "We know where he is, I'm going to get him."

"John, please …" Mac tried.

"No! He is my son and I decide …"

"Jonathan!"

There was a power in the declaration, the sort that everyone in the room felt even though the speaker was miles away.

John glared at the phone for a moment then ran his hand through his hair. "We can answer all these questions once we've got Dean." The conciliatory tone was used begrudgingly but they all recognised the significance of it being attempted at all.

"I cannot condone a raid on that … establishment." Jim declared. "There is too much risk of a confrontation with the authorities. The boy has never liked being cooped up. If there is no suggestion Dean is in any immediate danger ‒"

"Except from VD," Joshua mumbled, looking startled when others looked his way.

Jim cleared his throat and continued as if he hadn't heard the comment. "We will wait until he shows himself."

Caleb wished he could see the pastor's face. He had the sneaking suspicion the forced wait order was more about some sort of punishment for John, than it was about avoiding unwanted attention.

"Mackland, would you be so kind as to go and watch for Dean. Robert and Joshua need to fill us in on what they have found regarding this unfortunate young lady," Jim said.

Mac glanced around the room, not entirely sure he should be leaving, but then grabbed his keys and headed out, giving Caleb a look that was part warning, part begging, his son to behave.

John's hand fisted and relaxed a couple of times. Grumbling under his breath, he sat at the table and pulled some of the notes for the case towards himself. "Do we at least know what he's hunting?"

Joshua looked nervous about it, but addressed the Knight.

"We have one confirmed kill, Brandi Myers. She ran away from home about three weeks ago to chase her dream of being a dancer. Her parents reported it but, given she was nearly eighteen and left a note, the police didn't even file it as a missing person. Based on a rather unpleasant conversation with an officer who was in severe need of a shower, I believe they expected her to show up of her own accord, tail between her legs, within a few weeks."

Joshua pulled a typed-up report from one of the files and handed it over.

Caleb contemplated the information, flicking through several pages. "She disappeared before Dean took off but there was nothing in the paper he took about a missing girl. So, what brought Deuce here in the first place?" He dropped the file on the table.

"That is still unclear. The only person making any effort to locate her was this girl," Josh passed a picture to Caleb. "Nicci Wilson, a friend of Miss Myers who seemed sure something was amiss despite the note that was left."

"Are we sure this Brandi wrote the note?" John pulled the file that Caleb had put down, close to him.

"Yes. After leaving Hope Mills, she made it as far as Fayetteville and got a job at The Peppermint Rabbit."

"She was a … lady of the night?" Jim asked carefully. Caleb scoffed but wisely made no comment.

"Not as far as I can tell," Joshua said with distaste. "She responded to an advertisement for dancers and had been working there less than a week when she stopped showing up. The management figured she just changed her mind."

"Only she didn't return home?" John surmised.

"No. We spoke with the friend, Nicci. She was in touch with Brandi when she started working at the club but stopped hearing from her about the same time she stopped showing up for work. That's when she started looking for her. Dean would have arrived a few days later," he added to Caleb who was watching him impatiently. It was clear the psychic had little interest in the case beyond what it would tell them about Dean. "Nicci denied speaking with him but we're pretty sure she was lying."

"So Deuce came for a missing person case that wasn't reported anywhere?" Caleb scoffed.

"We do know that it was shortly after he arrived that they found Brandi's body."

A slight growl emanated from Caleb as if Joshua had accused Dean of being responsible. Jim stepped in.

"What happened to Miss Myers?"

Joshua removed a photograph from another file, gingerly holding the corner with the tips of his fingers and passing it to John without looking at it.

"The police think a boyfriend or 'client' killed her and the rest of the damage was from animals afterwards, since the body was found in the woods."

"The coroner hasn't filed an official report yet but I spoke to him. She was alive when that started," Bobby added.

Even John struggled not to gag at the image and the idea that this poor girl had been ripped apart while alive.

"Any motive?"

"Some missing parts. Whatever it is, it could be feeding, but the kill was sadistic; slow and painful."

The pile of books Bobby had lugged in indicated that they hadn't identified 'it' yet.

Caleb hadn't forgiven John for his part in Deuce's disappearing act but he knew they were on the same page regarding the wait order. It might just be the psychic block but he had a sick feeling in his stomach that he knew would not go until Dean was standing safe and sound before him.

"So, girl disappears, Deuce somehow hears about it and gets a job at the strip club where she worked to investigate, then girl turns up monster chow. That about it?" he said impatiently.

"That seems to be the case. Best guess, he got the name of the club from Nicci."

"So why is he still working there?" Caleb just couldn't grasp Dean's thinking. There was no reason for him to come here. He had been the staunchest opponent of all of them regarding hunting alone over the years, and he hadn't even tried to call anyone.

"Like wild horses could drag you out if you got a cushty job at a strip club," Bobby said, moustache quivering.

"Wild horses wouldn't get a look in once Mac found out," John said. But the attempt to join the banter was only surface. His eyes remained fixed on the file. He hoped it was just underwear-clad women keeping his son in that place, or despite Jim's order he'd be kicking the door down.

SPNBROAU

* There really is a strip club called the Peppermint Rabbit, I used the name just because it made me laugh, everything else in the story regarding the Peppermint Rabbit is purely fiction.

AN: So, as promised, there were a few more familiar faces. I hope you liked the chapter :) As always, all comments welcome. xx