Author's note: Please review. I don't really like this one.
I'm thinking having the rest of the team's origins as oneshots. What do you think?
Chapter Three
Dean stares at the remains of the old bones and douses them with gasoline and then salt. A noise from behind interrupts him. The ghost, staring with beady, hateful eyes, throws Dean into a nearby grave. Sharp pain makes its way into his shoulder and back.
Still, Dean's been around long enough to know it's not busted up. He stands up, shotgun ready, and shoots the ghost with rocksalt. It disappears, but not for long. Dean manages to reach the grave, lights the matchstick and throws it into the ghost's grave. The ghost gets burned up, and it's over. Just like that.
Dean gets back to the trashy motel, mostly intact. He examines his body. There are some bruises and cuts, but the only serious wound is the scrape on his shoulder.
He starts tending to his wounds the way Dad taught him to. Stitch in and out. He concentrates on this instead of how he's been taking every job he can since Sam…. Maybe if he had backup, it would have gone down easier. Life's never easy, though, is it?
He shakes his head, finishes up and tries to sleep. In the morning he'll start looking for another hunt, but right now? He, as much as he hates to admit, needs to rest. Dean has more than enough time to worry.
Dean flicks his eyes over the newspaper, searching for obituaries and strange headlines. He's currently eating at a cheap diner with greasy food.
After a few minutes he finds what he's looking for.
Strange Deaths at Gotham City
Three people have died this month by serious burns while being nowhere near a fire. Cops are baffled at the strange manner these people died. Families are devastated by these losses.
Dean knows his next destination. Gotham City.