Supernatural In Nature (under construction)

30. Old With the Old, In With the New

Dean is on the phone with Frank, while on a walkway along a river. "So, Dick's funding an archaeological dig? Well, unless Dick's actually digging himself, I'm not sure I know what to do with that, Frank. Or the factory in Saudi Arabia, or the fishery in Jakarta. None of this is helping, Frank."

"Explain how Western to Southeast Asia is too wide a net. You know, I could be in Tromso right now. Zero Leviathan activity in Tromso." Frank said over the phone.

"Where the hell is Tromso?" Dean asked.

"Norway, you moron. By the way, they opened another Biggerson in Butte."

"Yeah, well, we're not in Montana."

"Oh, you know where Butte is. That's encouraging. So, where are you?" Frank asked.

"We're in Oregon."

"No. I got nothing in Oregon."

Dean sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Wisconsin, Frank."

"What about it?"

"The coordinates- Bobby's coordinates."

There was a brief pause. "Bobby... Oh! Right. Yeah, no. I got nothing. I got no activity."

"Well, work on it."

"Hey. When did you become the boss of me? You don't like what I'm doing, you can stick it right up your Montana." Frank said.

"All right, all right, all right. Take it easy, Frank."

"Oh, and another thing-" Frank hang up.

"Frank? Hello? Fr-" Dean sighed and closed the phone. Sam walks up, carrying a coffee and a newspaper. "He's a crazy son of a bitch."

"Frank?" Sam asked.

"You know, having a cranky total paranoid as your go-to guy- that's- it's... I don't know what it is. What, are you going for, like, the Guinness record of caffeine consumption? That's like your fifth this morning." Dean said, looking at Sam's coffee.

"Yeah, well, every time I close my eyes, Lucifer is yelling into my head. It's like I let him in once, now I can't get rid of him." Sam replied.

Dean looked at Sam. "You know he's not actually..."

Sam nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, no. I know. Uh, try telling that to the volume control inside my brain."

"Well, did you try the hand thing?"

"Yeah." Sam cleared his throat. "Anyway, long as I'm awake, check it out." Sam hands Dean the newspaper. "They're saying drugs, but read between the lines. Sounds like she danced her own feet off. Might be our kind of thing."

Dean scanned the paper. "Dancers. They are toe shoes full of crazy."

"You- and you would know this how?" Sam asked.

Dean looked at Sam. "I saw 'Black Swan.' Twice. Hot tutu-on-tutu action? Come on, Sam. What's wrong with you?"

"Wow. The depths of your- Anyway, it's in Portland, a couple hours away. What do you think?"

"Yeah, dancers. Why not? Maybe you'll get some sleep on the way." Dean said and headed towards their car.

"Yeah, maybe." Sam said softly.

Dean, Diana, and Sam pull into a parking spot. The ballet shoes are in the back seat a foot away from Diana, and she cautiously looks at them while scooting away from them.

Dean turns and sees the shoes. "Hey. Didn't we put those in the trunk?"

Sam turned too. "H-how did they-"