Deadly

Chapter 27

I looked behind me, checking to see if any officers were in the theater. No one new had entered, and Luke had joined Aaron and Michael's conversation. I pulled out my phone, taking a picture of the writing on the wall. After making sure every word was clear in the picture, I took off my jacket, rubbing the words away. The police hadn't mentioned anything about the note, I didn't think they had noticed. After making sure the words were gone, I folded my jacket so the blood wasn't able to rub off on me before folding it over my arm, and putting my phone away.

I made my way back to where Aaron, Michael, and Luke were standing, still conversing.

"You guys, we really need to go." I said, interrupting Michael.

"Did you find something?" Aaron asked, hearing the urgency in my voice.

"Yes, now let's go." I walked out of the theater, almost running into an officer on the way out.

"Did you get everything you need?" he asked me, smiling.

"I think we did, thank you." I replied, doing my best to sound nonchalant.

"If you need anything else, feel free to swing by the police station. Or give me a call." he said, writing down the number.

"Thank you very much." I said, taking the piece of paper. Michael, Aaron, and Luke had now caught up to me, and we walked away as the officer entered the theater.

"Where's Dean?" Aaron whispered.

I ignored him, seeing Dean and walking towards him without any explanation to the guys behind me. I waited until Dean finished his sentence to cut into the conversation.

"I believe we're finished here, agent." I said, trying to sound like I was reporting back to him.

"Got everything we need?" he asked, sounding like he wanted to leave.

"I think so."

He nodded and me, turning to thank the officer he was talking to before walking with me back to the rest of our group.

We left the buidling, and when we got into our car, I told the guys what I had found.

"What does it mean, 'I'm getting impatient'?" Michael asked.

"It means it wants to kill Dean, and it's tired of the game." Luke explained, shrugging. I ignored how nonchalant he sounded, and played with my jacket sleeve, which was still folded up in my lamp.

"And then you erased the evidence?" Dean asked me, pulling out of the parking lot.

I nodded. "So we can burn this, as far as I'm concerned," I said, holding up the jacket.

Aaron chuckled, and then tried to change the subject. "I'm starving."

"Yeah, hold on," Dean said, still focusing on the message the thing had left. "So, what? Do I go?"

"What?"

"Am I supposed to meet it at that address?"

"Are you insane?" I asked.

"No, but if I know it'll be there-"

"You're an idiot."

"No, I could kill it."

"You're falling right into its trap, you know that?"

"What if we set our own trap?"

I sighed. "We'll talk about it later."

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When we returned to the house, Aaron was still complaining about being hungry. "I hope whatever Mason got can be reheated." he grumbled as we got out of the car.

I laughed, walking up the drive way. I noticed Mason's car still wasn't in the drive way. Had he gone out again while we were out?

Luke opened the door and let us in, and I stopped in my tracks once I entered the house.

Mason was laying down on the couch, bruises up and down his arms, bandages scattered across his face. The skin surronding his eye was purple and swollen, and his lip was busted open, as well.

"Mason! What the hell?" I asked, rushing to the couch. "What happened?"

"He was in a car crash," Peter explained, coming out of the kitchen with a glass of water and bottle of pills in his hands. "Do you need more pain killers?" he asked Mason.

Mason nodded, and then grunted. Peter opened the bottle, shaking it so two pills fell into the top. He helped Mason sit up before placing the pills into one of Mason's hands, and placing the glass of water in the other. Mason popped the pills in his mouth and downed the glass before turning to us.

"It's worse than it looks."

"Is it really?" Luke asked, sitting down next to Mason.

"It really is."

"He's lucky," Peter said. "His car was totaled, but he got out with no broken bones. Just bruises and scrapes."

"How did this happen?" I asked, sitting on the table in front of Mason.

"I was driving back from getting us lunch, and some asshole ran a red light," Mason chuckled lightly. "He hit the passenger side of the car, though, that's what I'm alright."

"Good," Luke said, and then felt the need to explain himself. "That he hit the other side. At least your okay."

"Yeah..." Mason trailed off, looking at the ground next to the table. "So did you find anything?" he asked after a long moment.

"An address." Dean said, looking at me. "And a note. Show them." I pulled out my phone and unlocked it, pulling up the picture I had taken in the theater.

Peter sat on the arm rest of the couch Mason was still seated on, and they read the note as Sam came into the room.

"Where's James?" I asked.

Sam shrugged. "Out with some friends. What did you find?"

I tossed him my phone as Peter asked, "What does this mean?"

"It means Dean has to go," Mason said, looking up at Dean.

Peter leaned over, accidently putting pressure on Mason's left arm, which seemed to be slightly more bruised than the left one. Mason winced, but Peter didn't seem to notice.

"I don't know," Luke said, suddenly seeming anxious. "This sounds like a huge trap."

"Of course it's a trap!" Mason snapped at Luke. "That just means we have to set our own."

"Do you really think we can out-smart it?" Sam asked, still standing next to Peter.

"We? Are you in now, Sammy?" I asked.

Sam half-smiled, looking at the floor. When he looked back up, he said, "No one messes with my brother."

Dean chuckled. "This has to be one hell of a plan."

"We can't fuck this up," Mason nodded. "But we can't keep this thing waiting, we don't want another mess on our hands."

Peter glared at Mason before pushing himself off the couch, again putting pressure on Mason's left arm. This time, however, Mason let out a yelp, holding his arm.

"Oh, shit!" Peter said, looking back at Mason. "I'm sorry!"

"No, it's fine," Mason said, trying to hide the obvious pain he felt.

"So what happened to the other driver?" Michael asked Mason. "The one who hit you?"

"He was intoxicated, so he was arrested." Peter answered for Mason.

There was a short silence in the room before Aaron spoke up. "Dinner, anyone?"