The Bunker was quiet as Dean snoozed gently with his feet up on the map table. A newspaper was draped over his face, the material gently moving as his chest rose and fell.
A yellow LED pinged alive on the map and softly began to fade in and out, sending out a soft noise.
The noise made Dean adjust, but not wake.
"Mmmm.... Pie...." His voice was muffled by the newspaper.
The LED went from a soft yellow color to a solid red and the notification jostled Dean from his slumber.
"Huh, what..." Dean swiped away the newspaper, his mind flashing through fight or flight. As his body determined that there wasn't an immediate threat, his eyes locked on the LED, stopping in his tracks.
"What do you think it means?"
"Well, obviously it's bad, Sam. This board doesn't light up for just anything."
The two stood at the table staring at the map, unsure of what the light indicated.
"Well, what we do know is that it's centralized around Philadelphia.."
Dean twisted away from the table and groaned.
"God that's so far..."
"Well, it's either drive or..."
"Don't you dare say it."
"...fly, Dean."
Dean sighed and tried to walk his anxiety out.
"We can't just ignore this, Sam..."
Sam sighed as he looked between the light, the stacks of research still needing done, and Dean.
"If you need me to come back, for any reason, you call me. You got that?" Dean finished packing the Impala's trunk and closed it securely.
Sam rolled his eyes and sighed as he handed Dean a secondary go bag.
"I'll be fine, Dean. Just... be careful," Sam said and the boys looked at each other; Dean gave it the moment too long.
"I'll call you from the road." Dean tossed the other bag into the backseat and got into the car.
Leaving the Bunker, Dean turned onto the main road and headed East.
Philadelphia was a brilliant city, but held it's darker secrets close to the chest. The rain fell gently as the night progressed, illuminating the sidewalk with color as the damp streets reflected the shop and bar signs.
A calamity of noise exploded from an alley as a creature knocked through the trash bins and spilled into the street. The beast regained it footing and sprinted down the empty sidewalk, trying to put distance between it's pursuer.
A woman appeared a few moments later, pausing for just a moment while she attempted to quickly take in her surroundings. "Damn it," she growled and spun around, trying to come to terms that she had just lost her mark.
Kicking one of the tipped bins in frustration, she stopped for a moment before stomping the bin further. After a few moments, with her breath slowing as her anger ebbed, she stood in silence.
She had been hunting that beast for two days, and it had just slipped through her fingers. Turning her face to the sky, she closed her eyes and let the rain gently start to dampen her face. Taking a deep, relaxing breath, she slowly let it out and bowed her head as she started to walk down the street towards a dive bar illuminated softly with faded neon orange signs. Entering the establishment, she disappeared into it's shadows.
Dean sleepily opened his eyes and groaned in protest. The sun filtered through the dingy motel windows and curtains, playing across his face in rainbow patterns. Covering his face with his arm, he laid there for a moment before flipping away the blankets and sitting up.
10am.
Grabbing his cellphone, he dialed Sam and waited.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Sam. I'm sorry I didn't call when I got in. Driving to PA sucked balls."
He heard Sam chuckle.
"I would have begun to worry if you didn't call me soon. If you need anything, just call me, okay? Philly has some deep history."
"You know I will."
Dean ended the call and stood, stretching away his stiffness. Grabbing a change of clothes from his pack, he made his way to the bathroom.
The hot water streamed down his tired body, following the gentle lines of his muscles in rivers. His hands massaged shampoo through his hair, the suds tracing down his body as he rinsed himself off. Sighing, he stood under the shower for a few extra moments before shutting the water off.
Drying himself and dressing, he stepped into back into the main room and sat down at the small table. He grabbed the newspaper and started looking through it, trying to see if there were any clues as to what he should be looking for.
"Mugging? No.. Ooh, stabbing?"
He finished reading the stabbing article and sighed.
"Damn it..." The article revealed the suspect had been caught.
Flipping through a few more pages, his brows creased in concern.
Authorities report that the victim had been viciously murdered in their home Tuesday night. The crime scene is still under investigation as police attempt to determine if this was an isolated event. They have suggested the public be on the lookout for any suspicious activity.
Dean took a deep breath and sighed; this definitely fit the bill. Flipping through to the obituaries, he located one that listed the same death date as the article.
Grabbing his phone, he dialed Sam again.
"Hey, I.. I think I might have gotten something. Can you look up information on a.... Uhhhhh." Dean shuffled the newspaper back to the obituaries. "James Smithers," he said and readjusted the phone against his ear.
"Okay, James was a well known bouncer around the club and bar scene. He'd lived in Philly since... 2010."
"Okay, it says he was killed in his home. Got an address?" Dean grabbed his boots, slipping them on as Sam gathered the information for him.
"Yea, got a pen?"
