Damaged Goods

Hook Man

I snorted as I sat up, inhaling some spit. After a minute or two coughing it out, I climbed out of the Impala.

They had parked at a cafe. When I climbed out, I went to the line to order a hot chocolate. It was ready after a few minutes.

With that done, I found Dean sitting at a table. I plopped down beside him.

"Morning, princess." Dean snarked, typing away on the laptop.

I glared at him from tired eyes. "Shut up." The hot chocolate was only barely becoming cool so I was stuck glaring at it. "Where's the other mistake?"

Dean nodded his head. Following that direction, I saw Sam talking on the payphone.

"Great." I mused, trying the hot chocolate. It was still fucking hot, so not much there. Only burned my throat a little bit. "Still no leads on his manhunt for dear ol' Dad?"

"Zilch." Dean answered, typing away.

"Super." I idly tapped the side of my cup. "Have you found a case to distract him yet? It's been a week."

Dean grinned. "Think I do, yeah." He turned to laptop to me. "That one good?"

A quick cursory read said it was the Hook Man case. "Good."

"It actually counts this time?" Dean added.

Cause the last few days, he had asked me about the stuff he'd found online or in papers. Pretty much all of them were normal human cases. There was one that came close, but a quick call to the station proved another hunter was on that case. So they'd all been duds for us, anyway.

"It actually counts." I commented, blow a cool breath on the hot chocolate. "Whoop-de-do. Give him a star, everyone. Dean found one that counts."

Dean grinned, taking the laptop. "Nah. Not gonna be dragged down by your negativity."

I raised an eyebrow. "Doubt that."

Dean sneered at me. I sneered right back.

Sam walked back to the table, looking very much like a grumpy moose.

"Your, uh, half-caf, double vanilla latte is gettin' cold over here, Francis." Dean told him.

"Bite me." Sam grumbled, sifting in his seat.

"Sam, always so chipper in the morning." I mused dryly, sipping on my hot chocolate.

Sam gave me the Bitch Face.

"So, anything?" Dean asked him.

"I had 'em check the FBI's Missing Persons Data Bank. No John Doe's fitting Dad's description. I even ran his plates for traffic violations."

"Sam, I'm tellin' ya, I don't think Dad wants to be found." Dean countered. Sam made a frowning that was almost sincere. "Check this out." He flipped the laptop so Sam could read it. "It's a news item out of Planes Courier. Ankeny, Iowa. It's only about a hundred miles from here."

"'The mutilated body was found near the victim's car, parked on 9 Mile Road'." Sam read off. He gave Dean a look.

"Keep reading." Dean prompted.

"'Authorities are unable to provide a realistic description of the killer. The sole eyewitness, whose name has been withheld, is quoted as saying the attacker was invisible'." Sam finished.

"Could be something interesting." Dean mused.

"Or it could be nothing at all. One freaked out witness who didn't see anything? Doesn't mean it's the Invisible Man." Sam argued.