Tony had been enjoying a slice of sausage-pepperoni pizza when he saw it. Taken aback, he started chocking on the deliciousness before clearing his throat and turning up the volume on the television.
There, on the news, ZNN was reporting on a case in St. Louis. A few people had been murdered, and a girl was tortured by a man who the police found dead. They brought up a sketch of the man, and Tony's heart skipped a beat. That was Dean. Dean. His brother.
But that can't be right. Dean wouldn't kill people. Or torture them. And Dean was with Sam, and Sam wouldn't just…Sam! Tony could call Sam.
Fumbling for his cell phone, it slipped from his shaking hands twice before Tony forced himself to take a calming breath. There was probably any number of reasons why the news was saying Dean was a dead murderer. He just can't think of any right now.
Dialing the number, Tony waited impatiently while the phone rang. After ringing four times, Tony was greeted with a hello.
"Mind explaining what the hell's going on?"
"Tony! What—
"Why is ZNN saying that Dean is dead?"
"Oh. Oh. Look, don't worry, Dean is fine. We had a run in with a shape shifter; we're shagging ass even as we speak."
Relief is a very powerful thing. It felt as if a weight had been lifted from his chest; breathing became significantly easier as the tension drained from his posture.
"That's great. Just…lie low for a while, okay?"
"Yeah, planning on it. And I'm sorry for not calling: you shouldn't have found out through the news."
"Don't sweat it. It comes with the life style."
"Right. I've got to go. We'll call you later."
"Yeah. Bye."
Hanging up the phone, Tony picks up his pizza slice. He looks at it, before throwing it back in the box. He's just not hungry anymore.
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