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chapter seventeen
something deeper
♰
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CORDELIA SAT IN the back seat of the Impala, fingertips massaging her temples as she listened to Sam and Dean bicker ⸻ like they had been doing for the past fifteen minutes.
Honestly, she wished the car would crash and simply put her out of her misery because, damn, could those boys go on and on.
The brunette averted her gaze out of the window, watching the trees and clouds pass by as the low hum of the Impala faintly blurred out the snappy words of the Winchesters.
"Yeah, you probably missed somethin', that's what," Dean shot over at his brother, sending him a look of irritation.
Sam rolled his eyes at his brother's words and turned in his seat, hands wafting around dramatically to get his point across, "Dude, I ran LexisNexis, local police reports, newspapers ⸻ I couldn't find a single red flag."
"Dean, are you sure you got the coordinates right?" Cordelia asked from her place in the back, she tiredly ran her fingers through her hair before slumping into her seat. "I mean, maybe you read 'em wrong because you were tired."
"I double-checked, Cordelia," Dean rolled his eyes. "It's Fitchburg, Wisconsin. Dad wouldn't have sent us coordinates if it wasn't important," his words now directed at a frustrated Sam.
"Well, I'm telling you, I looked and all I could find was a big, steamy pile of nothing," Sam scoffed, and if Cordelia wasn't practically falling asleep in the back, she would've laughed. "If dad's sending us hunting for something, I don't know what."
"Well, maybe he's gonna meet us there," Dean shrugged, not taking his eyes off of the road.
Cordelia snorted from the backseat, "Not to be rude, Dean, but there's more chance of bumping into my dead brother."
"Yeah, okay, thank you, Cordelia," Dean shot back sarcastically, rolling his eyes at her rather morbid joke.
But Sam only laughed and gestured towards the brunette in agreement, "Nah, she's right, 'cause dad's been so easy to find up to this point."
