Carry On My Wayward Sons...... and Daughter (Season One/ COMPLETED)

Devil's Trap (Part 1)

Annie's POV

Dean looks at us.

"Where is he?"

"......They've got Dad." Dean says as he hangs up.

"Meg?" Dean just nods. "What'd she say?"

"I just told you, Sammy," Dean snaps. "Okay. Okay."

Dean takes the Colt and tucks it into the back of his jeans.

"What are you doing, Dean?"

"We got to go."

"Why?"

"Because the demon knows we're in Salvation, all right. It knows we got the Colt. It's got Dad - it's probably coming for us next."

"Good. We've still got three bullets left. Let it come."

"Listen, tough guy, we're not ready, okay? We don't know how many of them are out there. Now, we're no good to anybody dead. We're leaving.... now!"

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Sam's POV

"I'm telling you, Dean, we could have taken him," Annie gripes from the passenger seat.

"What we need is a plan. Now, they're probably keeping Dad alive, we just gotta figure out where. They're gonna wanna trade him for the gun." Annie just shakes her head and Dean glances over at her. "What?"

"Dean, if that were true, why didn't Meg mention a trade?" A tear trails down her cheek. "Dad..... He might be-"

"Don't!" Dean and I snap at the same time.

"Look, I don't want to believe it any more than you. But if he is, all the more reason to kill this damn thing. We still have the Colt. We can still finish the job."

"Screw the job, Annie!"

"Dean, I'm just trying to do what he would want. He would want us to keep going."

"Quit talking about him like he's dead already. Listen to me, everything stops until we get him back, you understand me? Everything."

".........So how do we find him?" Annie sighs in defeat.

"Maybe we go to Lincoln. Start at the warehouse where he was taken."

"Come on, Dean, you really think these demons are going to leave a trail?"

"You're right. We need help."

Dean rushes off to the one person we all know who will help, no matter what.

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Annie's POV

As we pull in, Rumsfeld begins to bark lazily. The old junk cars Bobby has had around for forever still litter the yard, and the tacky "Singer Auto Salvage" sign still hangs from the entrance. I get out and run over to Rumsfeld and rub behind his ears, the same spot I rubbed him years ago

"Whose a good boy, Rumsfeld? Huh? Whose a good boy?"

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Inside, there are books stacked everywhere. It's untidy and cluttered with papers on every wall.

Bobby picks up two round silver flasks with crosses on them and hands one to Dean. Sam is sitting at a cluttered desk reading a very large book. I flip through old pictures of Bobby and me, smiling at them.

"Here you go."

"What is this - holy water?"

"That one is." He holds out the other flask. "This is whiskey."