Hunted c.m • spn

two

"Wait guys, I think I know who wrote this." Reid says as he looked over at the whiteboard. "How?" Hotch asks while standing up, walking over to look as well. "Well, not the exact person. But, using graphology I was able to figure out the personality of the person who wrote this." He states. Which slightly disappointed the team, but it was better than having nothing.

"Look at the sudden changes of speed, slightly sloppy and the size and pressure isn't consistent. That shows nervousness. The oversized upper and lower zones and the absence of ornamentation. That shows this person is probably shy." Reid explains, pointing to the photo of the note. The actual thing was still being processed for fingerprints so they had to make do with what they had.

"So the submissive wrote this?" Emily asks and Spencer nods. "And I'm thinking that it definitely feeds more into our theory of the dominant having the submissive do all the dirty work for him in order for him to be able to kill. But it makes sense for the dominant to write the note and send it in. To have control over what's said. But he had his subordinate do it instead. Why?" Rossi asks and Reid nods in agreement.

"He doesn't wanna get his hands dirty. The submissive must seriously think highly of him, probably willing to do anything for him. The dominant takes advantage of it. Had him send in a note in hopes that we'd stop our investigation. The subordinate might not have wanted to but was willing because he'd do anything for the other. Maybe that explains the nervousness in the writing?" Morgan suggests. "That or he's just a naturally nervous person. Or he's afraid of them getting caught." Reid says. Hotchs phone rings cutting them off and he picked it up.

"They found a match on the fingerprints found on the note." He says and the team almost all let out a sigh of relief.

"There's a vamp nest not even two miles from here. So we won't have to switch states yet thankfully." Dean says while putting down his beer. Traveling non stop takes a toll on you after a while. It'snice to stay in one place, even if it's just a few days. "Tonight?" Sam asks and Dean nods. "Yeah. Bastards are having a party, it'll catch them off guard. Easier job for us." Dean says and Sam nods. It was silent for a while until Sam decided to break the silence.

"Do you think Dad would be proud of us?" The question lingered in the air and after a while Dean slammed his hands on the table. "Don't even talk about that asshole. We are better than he ever was. We save people!" Dean hollered and Sam sighed but nodded. "I know." Sam agrees while nodding and Dean nodded. "Good. It don't matter whether or not Dad would be proud. I'm proud. That's all we need." Dean says sternly, clapping a hand on his younger brother back whom nods. "This is gonna be our first vamp nest, you excited baby brother?" Dean asks and Sam smiled and nodded, glad to change the conversation. He hated when Dean got upset at him, it reminded him of Dad. Except he knew Dean actaully cared about him, Dad didn't.

"How many do you think?" Sam asks. "At least 13. I even got you your own machete." Dean says and Sam looked hesitate but nodded. "What if I mess up? You're the one good at ganking them." Sam says, which he knew was true. That's why he got the monsters and allowed Dean to do the dirty work. Dean insisted anyways. He rather do it then have his younger brother do it.

"You won't, we'll practice a bit today. Make some dummies for you to slash at to refresh your memory. I think you'll be fine. You got this, you have to Sammy." Dean says while sitting down, facing his younger brother. They practiced all day, and Sam did pretty good. Then when time came, they got their supplies, and headed off. They got to the house and heard music blasting and loud laughing from inside. "Bastards are celebrating tonight's kills. Let's go." Dean says and Sam follows behind him.

Dean didn't hesitate to kick the door down, machete in hand. Everyone stopped dancing and he could see a bowl filled with a red liquid on one of the tables. Blood. "You sick fucks are going to hell where you belong! Blood suckers!" Dean hollers and started swinging, cutting heads clean off as he did so, Sam following his lead. They ignored the pleads and cries and took note of the three who ran upstairs. After finishing everyone off, they left, ecstatic. "Wooah! Told ya Sammy! Got those blood suckers!" Dean cheers offering a high five to his smiling younger brother who returned it.