𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓, Sam and I swiftly exchanged our garments for warmer ones, determined to carry on our conversation beneath the open sky where our words could remain hidden from prying ears. As we descended the stairs, my attention was caught by Sam's deftness in silencing Dean, admonishing him for his mishandling of the entire situation.
"You can't just show up in the middle of the night and expect us to drop everything and hit the road with you," Sam asserted firmly.
Nodding in agreement, I added my own voice, soft but resolute. "I have to agree with Sam on this one."
Dean's plea grew more desperate, his words laced with urgency. "You're not understanding me. Our dads are missing, and I need your help to find them. Come on, Ness, this is your father we're talking about."
The weight of Dean's words hung heavy in the air, but the more I contemplated what they didn't know about my father, Issac, the more uncertain I became about what to say.
Sam, ever quick-thinking, interjected, reminding Dean of past encounters. "Remember the poltergeist in Amherst? Or the Devil's Gates in Clifton? They were missing then too. They always go missing, and they always turn out fine."
Dean came to an abrupt halt, causing both Sam and me to pause as well. "Not for this long. So, are you coming with me or not?" His tone grew sterner.
Sam glanced at me, and in that brief connection, we found solidarity. "We're not," Sam declared, speaking on behalf of both of us.
"Why not?" Dean's disappointment was palpable.
"Dean... Is it really that difficult for you to understand?" I spoke up softly, my voice laced with a hint of frustration.
