Abducted: Part Three (SPN | Dean x Reader )

Chapter 26: Margaret And Becky

August 2015

Suffice it to say, you had a very good sleep that night and woke up the next morning feeling well-rested, clear-headed and shocked at your absurdity. Just what the fuck had you been thinking? Had you really planned to email Home Affairs with such little information and expect an answer?

Yeah, you had... And you felt slightly embarrassed by it all.

Dean had been great though, having only teased you about it once on the drive to Kripke's Hollow. There you finally sunk your teeth into the infamous bacon cheeseburger, met with Chuck's former landlord, asked the locals and scanned the local archives for anything Chuck-related and took an uninvited, after-hours tour through the Erickson Street house.

Your biggest takeaway from this particular Ohio experience, besides Gayle King being right, was an important date - the 18th of September, 2010.

It was the day Chuck left the small town. Proven by a simple piece of paper signed by him and the landlord on receipt of one set of house keys being returned.

"Yeah. I've got the piece of paper in my hand right here." You heard Dean say as you turned the taps off in the shower.

Another night on the road, another motel to sleep in. Just not the Toreador. Dean had insisted on that.

Your room was a regular, albeit outdated one in the centre of Kripke's Hollow, which you'd checked into between dinner and breaking into the Erickson Street house.

"We know he was still in the country on the eighteenth but the landlord doesn't know where he went after that," Dean continued. "He did give us a bank account but I already checked it out... Yup. Dead end."

You could only assume he was talking to Sam or Cass. What with his casual tone and the fact he was talking about your efforts to find Chuck. Something you presumed no one else in his limited social circle knew yet. "Hopefully your ex-wife can tell us more... You got married. I was there..."

Okay. Sam. He was definitely talking to Sam.

"Yeah, alright. It was creepy... But she's some other schmuck's problem now... She remarried some guy named Rod..."

You reached for your towel and wrapped it around your torso to dry yourself off as best as you could with the thin, scratchy cotton before stepping out into the main room. You noticed Dean looking up at you from the burnt orange sofa where he had stretched his legs out in front of him to rest on the room's coffee table. "Hope to be there tomorrow night. We'll go straight to their place... Yeah well, she's our last chance of getting any info on him before we start going extreme..."

'Extreme?' Your eyes narrowed at him as you stepped into your clothes. His own followed your every movement in return.

You popped your head through the t-shirt you'd commandeered from him months ago as he further explained to Sam with a grin in your direction. "African dream root... Well, she knows now..."

African dream root? 'What the fuck is that?' His expression was suspicious enough without the words.

"Go have fun with Cass. With those doilies and the toilet water, you two could have a nice evening... Whatever you say, man. If you can, start making your way to Wilmington... Yeah... Right..."

With that Dean finally hung up his call and stood up to walk over to where you were running the now damp towel through your equally damp hair. It was a little late for it to be honest, what with wet patches already stained across your shoulders from taking so long, but you attempted nonetheless.

"Do I wanna know?" you asked as he placed his hands on your waist and pecked your lips.

"Mm. Which part?"