Disclaimer: I own nothing related to SPN—but I do have an inhumanly loud toddler (named Dean, actually) destroying my pantry in an attempt to take out my secret marshmallow stash.
Either way, his namesake's bad luck is about to catch up to him with a time out….
…Okay, naptime enforced. Now on with the story!
Thanks again to everyone who has taken the time to review these chapters!
20.5878° S, 174.8103° W
Crowley hated being summoned. There was never a convenient time to be yanked from one place to the other. He was a busy man, deals to make, deals to collect, lesser demons to bend to his will. All in all, this secret partnership with Castiel was beginning to cut into his day. The angel had no sense of timing.
"Have you found him," Castiel asked.
Crowley turned and surveyed the green landscape before scoffing. "What was the matter with your frozen fortress of solitude? Lose its appeal already, did it?"
Castiel frowned in confusion. "I have no such fortress."
"Castiel, it's just a reference—"
"I do not understand," Castiel stated firmly.
"You mean that those stooges you hang out with haven't made you watch Superman," Crowley asked. He usually hated small talk unless it led to bigger deals; but then the purgatory deal, that was a pretty damn big deal.
"No," Castiel snapped. "Now, I will ask you again. Have you found him?"
"Dean, you mean," Crowley asked he continued to survey the landscape. He reveled in annoying the angel.
"Unless there is another man I previously asked you to find, then yes, Dean," Castiel said impatiently. "Have your people found him?"
"No."
"Are you sure?"
"Of course, I am. You think I'd miss an opportunity to dangle him by a thread in front of his brother?"
Castiel stared over the ocean view. "Keep looking."
"Can't you just use your angel skills to find him?"
Crowley frowned and thought back to the day he had placed Enochian symbols on the men's ribcages. It had kept them off of his superior's radar, but he had regretted it more than once when he needed to be able to find them. This was becoming one of those times.
"Just find him."
Fort Eustis, Newport News, Virginia
Specialist Gloria Johnson frowned as she turned onto the paved road that ran along the James River. She hated being on patrol, even if this road overlooked the 'ghost fleet' of retired Naval ships. It was boring, raining, and the only thing she ever found out here was road kill and trash. The only thing that made being on patrol worthwhile was the car—a police issue Impala.
In fact, the transportation was the only thing she really found to be a perk while in the Army. She could drive anything if it had wheels and even some things that didn't. Her dad had been a military man back in his youth and she had followed in his footsteps up until his death last year. After lighting his burial pyre she had decided to avoid the hunting aspect of his life; watching her mother fall apart had made Gloria realize she couldn't possibly put her mother through that again. She'd settle for being an Army Specialist and leave the monster hunting to the orphans in the profession.
She cursed the windshield wipers as the rain started to fall harder, making the road less visible in the dim morning light. She needed to get transferred. Hawaii, maybe. Or Florida. She was over Virginia.
She scanned the road ahead of her and went back to glancing along the tree line that bordered the road. Luckily, she was nearly done with her patrol. She smiled about her upcoming weekend plans, two days of no patrol, no uniform, just a few days to sleep, read, and hit the firing range. The only thing that could make her weekend better would be to not have to share barracks. With a huff over housing regulations she turned her focus back to the job.
After a quick scan of the roadway, she glanced back along the tree line and suddenly slammed the brakes, bringing the car to a screeching halt on the wet road. She threw it in reverse and backed up, using the spotlight to bring something into view. She could see a pair of legs precariously jutting out from underneath the low lying bushes near the road. She grabbed her flashlight and stepped out into the rain, briefly wondering which type of paperwork would take less time to fill out—that of a dead man found on military property or that of a wandering drunk who managed to cross the James River before passing out on military property. Either way, she frowned at the thought of her now ruined weekend. Paperwork— that was one thing hunters didn't have to deal with. No forms, no signatures.
With one hand on her 9mm Beretta, she kicked her way through the dead leaves until she was standing over the man. He was silent and unmoving; he was also younger than she would have guessed. She frowned at his ripped shirt and his bare feet, both red and raw. His jeans were ripped and stained. She nudged him with her boot before sighing deep in annoyance. "Can't exactly handcuff you for trespassing if you're dead," she mumbled as she adjusted her flashlight.
"Just great," she muttered to herself as she heard thunder crack overhead. Lightning raced above them, illuminating the road and trees. She turned and looked around, finding nothing within sight. No shoes, bottles of booze, no bag, no nothing. She kneeled down and felt for a pulse, pulling back from the iciness of his skin. She found a slow pulse and sighed with relief before standing. She hated the thought of being out here with a dead man.
"I hope you've got a name. I don't have time for a John Doe, man, I have plans. Big plans to relax this weekend. You know, the kind where you sleep in and eat pop tarts for every meal. I've got a friend's couch to crash on and episodes of Dr. Sexy to catch up on," she complained aloud as she knelt next to him and tried to find his wallet. Shivering from the rain she pulled at his ripped shirt, wondering how long he had been outside in the cold. The edge of a tattoo on his chest caught her eye, making her immediately question if this guy belonged on base after all.
"Let's see your ink, buddy," she said aloud as she pulled his shirt collar down. "Maybe you're an Army guy after all and we can just skip some of the paperwork, huh?"
Upon seeing the anti-possession tattoo over his heart, she felt her own heart skip a beat.
"Holy shit," she yelled out before clapping her hand over her mouth. She stood and glanced furtively around before remembering that this was private government property. No one would be out here willingly. Hell, she wouldn't even be there if they weren't paying her. She kneeled down and lightly patted his face. "Dude, wake up! If you're a hunter, you've really got to get out of here!"
He didn't stir, even when she slapped him sharply across the face. She sighed before dropping her head in defeat. "There has to be someone that knows you're here. You guys hunt with partners, right?"
She thought back to the years her dad had hunted, nearly thirty years before something had finally caught up with him. He had always had a partner, someone who had his back when he hunted. Surely this guy was as smart as her dad. Either way, she had to get him off the Army base before someone else found him. Trespassers weren't just released at the gate and given an ass chewing, they were arrested.
She reached for her radio before pausing with a sigh. "What the hell am I supposed to do with you," she asked the unconscious man. "There has to be someone who can get you out of here. I can't arrest you! Most of you guys are wanted by someone."
She hesitated before fishing through his other pockets, finding nothing useful. "No phone, no wallet, no nothing. Just great!"
Another crack of thunder made her jump and drop her flashlight. The sound of a branch breaking nearby made her turn and stare into the dark trees. "Hello," she yelled out. "If you're with him, you can come out!"
A loud screech made her draw her 9mm from its holster, sweeping the darkness, looking for her target. Something moved near her left, its shadowy appearance making her back up and stand over the frozen man, gun in hand. "I'm going to guess that's not your partner out there," Gloria whispered. She nudged him with her boots, but he remained silent. "We've got get out of here. I'm guessing you're on a job, huh? Well, I'd rather not know what's out there; probably something with teeth. Big ones…"
Gloria glanced back at her Impala; the engine was still running and its headlights cut through the early morning light and rain. There was no way she could get the car closer to him and with something unknown creeping in the woods she knew she couldn't leave him alone for any length of time.
She hesitated as she slid her flashlight in her back pocket. She stooped low and gave the trees a slow and methodical look as her eyes adjusted to the dim light. She could see something standing, watching her, a mere hundred feet away. She quickly hooked her arms under his and began to drag him towards the car. He was icy to the touch and no longer shivering, surely not a good sign. She could feel his sluggish heartbeats in her own chest and briefly wondered if the mystery being in the woods had already fatally wounded the man in her arms. Her eyes never left the silhouette in the trees; she prayed it was the only one and that she wasn't going to be taken down from the side. If there was more than one of them, she'd have to drop him to reach her gun. Even then, she had no idea if her ammo was the kind she'd need to kill it. Silver, her dad had always said. When in doubt, use silver. She let out a quick gasp of alarm when she bumped into something behind her before rolling her eyes at her own stupidity. It was the car.
With a glance back into the trees, she opened the back door and unceremoniously dumped him into the back of the car. She hurried into the driver's seat and locked the doors before peering out into the dim morning light. She could still see the silhouette, this time it was standing a mere dozen feet from the car, hidden in the darkness of the trees. With a determined look, she shifted into gear and sped down the road leaving the mysterious being far behind.
They were a mile away when she heard a pained gasp and gag from the backseat. She immediately pulled over and looked at the man sprawled out on the seat behind her. With one quick glance at him she threw the car into park and darted out the car, yanking the rear door open.
He was turning blue. A shallow gagging sound was the only thing she could hear over the pounding of her heart.
"Shit!"
Sioux Falls, South Dakota
Bobby eased through the back door and closed it behind him, cringing at the noise the door made when it finally closed. He tossed his wet jacket and hat on a chair before walking to the study and glancing around the doorway, relieved to see Sam still sleeping on the couch. Bobby headed for the stove and put the coffee pot on.
With another glance at Sam, Bobby headed for his desk. He grabbed his book of contacts and started flipping through the pages, trying to determine who was close to Newport News, Virginia. He didn't know yet how he was going to deal with getting around the military if they found Dean first. If he was found on the Army base, they'd have to arrest him. If he was in bad enough shape physically or out of his head, they'd toss him in a hospital where they'd keep him for interviews after he shaped up. He knew neither option would pan out well for Dean. He'd end up in a psych ward, prison, or graveyard.
Bobby paused when he came to the name of a hunter near Roanoke and cursed when he remembered he had died the previous year. "There's got to be someone down there," Bobby muttered to himself as he poured himself a cup of coffee. What he wanted to do was drive to Virginia and find Dean himself, but he knew that wasn't feasible. Dean couldn't wait that long. He'd have to find someone now.
Bobby carried his cup of coffee and book to his desk, settling in as quietly as he could. He was flipping through the E section of the book when he realized Sam was staring at him from across the room. He looked better than he had the night before, the dark lines under his eyes had faded somewhat. Now, if Bobby could just get him to eat they'd be on the right track.
"Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty," he said before he went back to flipping pages. He sipped his coffee and glanced at Sam. He didn't miss the way Sam's eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at the floor. Bobby followed his gaze and felt his stomach turn over. Boot prints led from the kitchen to where Bobby sat; each wet boot print a shining beacon that proclaimed Bobby had left the house.
"Where'd you go," Sam asked from his place on the couch. He slowly rose and stretched, sore from a night on the small couch.
"Nowhere," Bobby lied before adding, "Just out to check the gates."
He didn't say anything else as he went back to flipping through the pages. He needed to find someone in Virginia soon and he didn't have time to argue with Sam. He wanted someone on the way to Dean before he told Sam he had a lead on where he was. If not, Sam wouldn't hesitate to hop in the car and go tearing off to find him. What Dean didn't need was Sam compounding the situation with the Army.
"Any leads," Sam asked.
"Nope," Bobby lied as he flipped another page.
"Bobby, where did you go," Sam asked, this time with a slightly more demanding tone.
"The gates, like I said. You got a problem with your hearing this morning," Bobby asked as he sat back in his chair and stared at Sam.
"Who's in Vermillion," Sam asked.
Bobby didn't miss the anger on Sam's face; his own face was growing hot with anger. "I don't know how you know about that, Sam, but we're not going to talk about."
"I think I deserve to know! You expect me to just sit here quietly while you disappear in the middle of the night—after you offered me a double dose of sleeping pills, no less—so you can do what?! Look for Dean without me?! I can help! He's my brother, he's my responsibility!"
Bobby stared at the man and sat back in his chair, studying him. Sam's clenched hands were shaking with anger. Bobby drew a deep breath. "I know you can help, Sam. That's not why I didn't tell you about where I was going. The place I went, it's not someplace you go when you reek of desperation and fear. You'll make a bad decision and get yourself killed. And once you're in, you have to decide if the cost is worth it. You can't do that right now…you'd do something stupid. Just like Dean."
Sam sat up like he'd been slapped. "What did you do?"
Bobby shrugged. "Went for a drive. Spoke to an old friend. Drank some high end whiskey…"
"And made a deal," Sam asked, suddenly fearful of the answer.
Bobby froze at the words. "Not that kind of deal, Sam. I paid someone to shake Dean loose from whatever had him."
"What kind of person can do that," Sam asked curiously.
"The kind I don't talk about," Bobby said firmly as he glared at Sam.
Sam sat silent, letting the information sink in. He felt a wave of hope begin to swell in his chest. "Do we know where he is?"
"In a roundabout sort of way. I'll know more when I get a phone call back from Marty," Bobby said. "Now, I want to know how you knew I was in Vermillion. I know you didn't drive, so don't give me that bullshit about how you drove, all hopped up on sleeping pills, and followed me. Spill it."
"The scrying stone," Sam admitted. "You left it on your desk after we used it to look for Dean."
Sam stood from the couch and walked somewhat unsteadily to the desk. He laid a map and small amethyst stone hanging from a silver chain in front of Bobby before walking to the hallway. "I thought whatever had taken Dean had come for you too."
Bobby listened to Sam slowly climb the stairs before sinking back in his chair with a deep sigh. He hadn't even considered how Sam might misinterpret his sudden disappearance from the house. Shit, he had screwed up again.
Sam stared at the shower, wondering if he could keep himself upright long enough to even scrub down. He hated sleeping pills, they always made him feel groggy and uncoordinated afterwards. He opted to just splash cold water on his face before heading back downstairs. A shower could wait. He needed to get back to finding Dean.
As Sam rounded the corner into the kitchen, he heard Bobby talking on the phone.
He paused in the doorway and listened. He was rewarded by Bobby leaning around the corner and glaring at him before he walked out the back door, phone pressed to his cheek and contact book in his hand.
Outside, Bobby tossed the book on the porch railing before turning back to the phone call.
"Marty, yeah, I need to find anyone close to Newport News, Virginia. Specifically someone who can get on to Fort Eustis," Bobby explained as he stared out into the rain. "I'll take anyone close."
"Bobby, you're not going to find anyone who can sneak onto a military base,"Marty stated into the phone. "You need someone already on it."
"Yeah cause we just all have those kind of connections," Bobby snapped sarcastically.
"Actually you do…sort of," Marty said as the sound of pages being flipped filled the phone. "Yeah, here you go. Remember Silas Johnson?"
"Yeah and mostly I remember that he died last year," Bobby said dryly. "Any more bright ideas?"
"Hold your horses, Bobby," Marty said impatiently. "He had a kid, an Army brat that enlisted a few years back, wanted to be like her 'ole man. I met her at the funeral. She was stationed at Fort Eustis, she might still be there."
"Marty, as much as I might need her, I'm not about to have some girl risk her career for this wild goose chase," Bobby argued. "You better have someone else down there you can call."
"I can call Silas' widow, see if she's still in touch anyone in that area," Marty replied hesitantly. "She's not going to want to offer up her own daughter but she might be able to point us towards someone else."
"Fine. I'll be on the road soon," Bobby said as he snapped his phone shut. He watched the rain continue to fall and sent a not quite pleasant prayer to Castiel.
Bobby slammed the door shut behind him and grabbed his duffel bag from beside his desk. He was always ready to head out; clothes, cash, and weapons packed at all times.
"Bobby," Sam said from the couch, a questioning tone in his voice.
"Get your stuff, we leave in ten," Bobby said as he headed to the kitchen.
Sam climbed the stairs as fast as he could and rushed to throw clothes into his duffel bag. He didn't need to know where they were headed. As long as Bobby was moving, he'd be right behind him. It was the thought of Bobby sitting down, wanting to talk, that terrified him. You didn't leave home in a hurry to collect a corpse; you hurried because there was still a pulse, a hope. As long as they were moving, he knew Dean was still alive.
Fort Eustis, Newport News, Virginia
Gloria climbed in the backseat on top of the young man and yanked his arms forward, forcing him to sit up. She dragged him to the edge of the seat, his lanky legs hanging through the open door. The gagging sound coming from him made her own throat tighten. She awkwardly slid her fingers through his blue lips and tried to find whatever he was choking on. She almost smiled in relief when she saw his green eyes slide open; panic filled as they may have been, she was relieved. Almost, anyhow.
His eyes flew open and tried to focus on her as he suddenly attempted to move away from her.
"Calm down! You're choking," Gloria said, trying to remain calm. She had training, but it didn't cover what to do when you got caught with your fingers down a stranger's throat. She cried out as he bit down on her fingers, breaking the skin across two of her knuckles.
"Goddamn it! Let go," she ground out as she tried to pry his jaw open with her other hand. He tried to wiggle away from her, making it impossible for her to keep a firm hold on him. As he bit down harder, she braced herself before landing a sharp slap across his face. Surprised and disoriented, he loosened his bite and she quickly retreated from him. Without her support, he flopped back onto the seat.
She glanced at her bleeding fingers before the noise caught her attention again. "Try to cough."
His head rolled away from her as the gagging noise got louder. She watched as he looked around, unable to focus on anything. As he turned a tinge bluer she forced her way into the car and straddled him, pinning his arms to the seat. She grabbed his head before turning it sideways, slipping her bloody fingers back in his mouth to check his airway. "Sorry man. But you can't die out here."
He tried to roll his head away but Gloria placed her other hand on his jaw, effectively pining him to the seat. She frowned as she felt the edge of something in his throat.
As she carefully tried to ease it from his throat he gagged again and began to violently dry heave. "Shit," Gloria exclaimed she rolled him to his side and held his head. Bile escaped from his mouth along with a piece of rounded pastry, a crescent moon in the mass of dark bile that now coated the floor. "Gross."
She maneuvered him into an upright sitting position on the seat and quickly used the seatbelt to hold him in place. "Man, you have no idea how badly I don't want to clean that up."
She kneeled on the seat and stared at him, his unfocused eyes wandering over everything. She frowned at the small sounds she heard escape from him lips. She leaned close and listened.
"You're not her…she's dead….you can't be…I'll kill….all of you…..you're not real…."
Startled, she stood from the car and watched his hands move restlessly, never settling on anything or touching anything, just moving with a purpose she couldn't see. She hesitated as she pulled her handcuffs free and slipped them on his already bruised wrists. "Sorry man, but no one is killing anybody on my watch."
"Now what do I do with you," she asked him, not expecting any sort of answer. "If you're crazy, I can't very well hide you in the barracks. I can't drop you off anywhere and leave you either. Hey! Hey! Can you tell me your name?"
He didn't say anything, his eyes wandering, seeing only things he could see.
"What the hell do I do now?"
Sioux Falls, South Dakota
Bobby didn't say anything as Sam glanced at him for the tenth time in the last half mile.
"You got a problem over there?"
Sam hesitated before shaking his head, turning his eyes back to the road.
"Good," Bobby huffed sharply as he adjusted the radio. He wasn't about to sit in silence while Sam sulked and felt slighted over Bobby's meeting in Vermillion. He'd seen the boys have hundred mile silences and he knew he wasn't going to have the patience to put up with it.
Sam opened his mouth and before he could get anything out Bobby snapped at him. "Can it, Sam."
"But—"
"But nothing," Bobby said as he pulled onto the interstate. "We all have our secrets. This is one of mine. End of discussion."
"Don't you think we need—"
"Nope!"
"But you're the one who says keeping secrets will get you killed."
"Don't quote me, back to me, kid! And who are you to preach at me about keeping secrets? I seem to remember one of us screaming our lungs out in the panic room while detoxing from demon blood; that was the result of whose secret? Yours! Mine's not hurting anyone so don't go comparing us; we've both got secrets. And mine are staying that way!"
Sam felt his face flush with anger. He couldn't believe Bobby had thrown that in his face, after all this time. He had made mistakes. Hell, they all had…but Sam had to know.
"Please just tell me that you paid in cash and didn't trade something for the help you got…"
Bobby sighed and adjusted his cap. "Sure."
Sam snorted and shook his head. "Not very reassuring, Bobby."
Bobby squared his jaw tightly. "Then stop asking."
They drove for an hour before Sam turned and asked, "Where are we going?"
"Guess I could have told you that sooner. Newport News, Virginia," Bobby said. "About twenty one hours or so."
"Who found him?"
Bobby considered what to tell Sam. He didn't know if anyone had found Dean yet. Marty hadn't called him back with any names. "Not really sure of that yet."
"But it's someone you trust, right," Sam asked awkwardly. He could see Bobby wasn't going to outright tell him anything.
When Bobby didn't answer him, Sam snapped. He was wound tight with worry, panic, and anger; an explosive combination in a Winchester. "Dammit, Bobby! Tell me where he is! Is he alive? Dead? Are we headed for some hunting buddy's house or not? The morgue? Where the hell are we going!?"
Bobby hit the brakes and swerved onto the shoulder before throwing the car into park and turning towards Sam. "I don't know, Sam! I know he's in Newport News, Virginia! On an Army base! I don't know who, or if anybody, has found him yet. I've got Marty looking for anyone who can get on base and locate him. I'm assuming he's alive but I don't know for sure. Does that make you feel better? Cause I don't have any more answers for you! So shut your trap and let me think!"
Sam tightened his jaw and nodded forcefully. "Just get us there."
Fort Eustis, Newport News, Virginia
Gloria's head swiveled from side to side, looking for anyone who might spot her. She had parked the patrol car next to her own car, lining up their rear doors. She needed to get the hunter from her patrol car into her own, a 2012 Dodge Challenger, a gift to herself after her tour in Afghanistan. He was making less sense than before, if that was possible. He seemed to drift to where he was almost asleep before he would jerk awake, only to mumble gibberish again. Gloria was really starting to wonder if maybe he was just crazy. If it hadn't been for the anti-possession tattoo she would have just tossed him in the clink…let her superiors sort him out. But he was a hunter. And even though she hadn't hunted anything since her dad's death, she was in the loop. That made them family. If they didn't look out for each other, no one would.
With one last glance around, she grabbed him under the arms and pulled him to his feet. She frowned at his icy touch and tried to remember if she still had a blanket in the trunk. He was barely standing on his own and he continued to struggle at her touch. He continued to mutter death threats and something about 'her' and 'they'. Without a word, she swiveled him on his feet before grabbing him by the back of the neck, forcing his head low and guiding him into the car. He ended up awkwardly sprawled across the backseat but she didn't care. She just needed to get him away from where anyone might see him and start asking questions. She threw a blanket over him and prayed he could keep still for a few minutes while she took care of a few things. If anyone found him, or discovered that she had found him on base and chosen to hide him, it would be both their asses in the clink.
Twenty minutes later they were speeding away, a small triumphant smile on her face. She drove around for a while, trying to sort out where to stash him. It might have been possible to hide him in her barracks, it had been done before after all, but it wouldn't be possible if he was delirious and muttering death threats. She briefly considered calling one of her friends who had a house on base, but they had kids. Bringing a death threat muttering, poorly clothed man who reeked of vomit to a friend's house might just end the friendship. No, she needed someplace quiet and away from people.
She decided on a cabin, they could be rented by military personal and since they were located on base, she could get there quickly. She raced to the small grocery nearby. After a quick run through the store, she heaved bags of food and first aid items onto the front seat and climbed in, ignoring the groaning coming from the backseat.
"You awake yet," she asked.
No words came from the back seat.
"You have a name?"
Silence returned to the car.
"Anyone I can call?"
Still he said nothing.
She sighed and headed for the cabins. "Someone has to be looking for you."
South Dakota Interstate
Bobby jumped as his phone rang, the car swerving slightly as he dug it out of his pocket. "Marty?"
"Yeah, Bobby. I called Silas' widow. We're on our own."
"She didn't offer up her daughter, huh," Bobby asked somewhat disappointedly. Not that he blamed the woman. Her daughter was all she had left.
"Not directly. I'm trying to find the daughter now," Marty stated. "Her name is Gloria and her mom did confirm that she is still working on the base."
"And how do you propose that we find her on a military base that we don't have access to," Bobby asked curiously. "We've faked ID's before, but we won't be able to pull this one off."
"No clue," Marty admitted. "I'll keep working on it."
Bobby tossed his phone on the dash and huffed with annoyance. They needed Gloria. She was the only one they knew of and they couldn't spend the time trying to find anyone else. But if Silas' widow wanted her daughter safe, he didn't know how he could go against that.
"What's the problem," Sam asked from his side of the car. The ride had been quiet even though arguments boiled beneath the surface.
"Can't get hold of the one sure fire person who can get us the Army base," Bobby grumbled as he pushed the engine harder. "Name's Gloria Johnson, daughter of a hunter who died last year. She's stationed there. Probably knows the base better than anyone else we're going to find."
"Do you really think Dean hasn't been found by someone yet? Don't they patrol like all the time on bases?"
"You'd think so, I'm just hoping he ends up in a medical complex and not in jail," Bobby said. "Who knows how badly off he'll be after having been gone so long…"
"You think he'll remember anything this time?"
"I don't know, Sam. And as much as it might help us figure out what's happening to him, I'm not sure I'd want him to remember anything…."
You know what to do. Feed the word machine!
Much kudos to WinJennster and her hubs Chris for their help with the Army details and scenery. Much appreciated!
Also, for those of you who can lend me your glorious skills of harping at a writer to finish a story (you know who you are) go check out the story 'It Begins' which is posted over at Archive of Our Own. WinJennster's hubs is writing it under the name Ravenjeep2001. It's brilliant and delves into the SPN character H who apparently had everything to do with anything (I had never heard about him prior but he's a wicked curiosity). Chris is dragging a certain body part whilst working on the next chapter...you can imagine which one..
So, release the hellhounds, Kraken, and whatever else you've got; encourage him to finish it! I'd appreciate your help, immensely! I have to know what happens! Where the hell did the Impala go?!