Dean's POV
Dad, Courtney, Angel, Sam, and I pack sticks of wood into a bed looking pile. Dad carried Skyler up to it and laid her on the wood and poured it on her and the wood. I couldn't do it because I knew that if I did, I'd never see her again. So Angel took the matches away from me and did it herself.
Since Spencer's Funeral I had a hard time sleeping so I am always working on baby.
"How's the car coming along?" Sam asked.
"Slow." Is all I said.
"Yeah? Need any help?" He asked.
"What, you under a hood? I'll pass." I joked a little.
"Need anything else, then?" He said.
I push myself from under the car and stand up. "Stop it, Sam."
"Stop what?"
"Stop asking if I need anything, stop asking if I'm okay. I'm okay. Really. I promise." I said.
"All right, Dean, it's just... We've been at Bobby's for over a week now and you haven't brought up Spencer once."
"You know what? You're right. Come here. I'm gonna lay my head gently on your shoulder. Maybe we can cry, hug, and maybe even slow dance." I said throwing the oil covered towel in the engine.
"Don't patronize me, Dean, Spencer is dead. The Colt is gone, and it seems pretty damn likely that the demon is behind all of this, and you're acting like nothing happened."
"What do you want me to say?" I asked.
Say something, all right? Hell, say anything! Aren't you angry? Don't you want revenge? But all you do is sit out here all day long buried underneath this damn car." He said.
"Revenge, huh?" I asked.
"Yeah." He said.
"Sounds good. You got any leads on where the demon is? Making heads or tails of any of Dad's research? Because I sure ain't. But you know, if we do finally find it - oh. No, wait, like you said. The Colt's gone. But I'm sure you've figured out another way to kill it. We've got nothing, Sam. Nothing, okay? So you know the only thing I can do is I can work on the car." I said.
I crouch by the car again, getting back to work.
"Well, we've got something, all right? It's what I came by here to tell you. This is one of dad's old phones. Took me a while, but i cracked his voicemail code. Listen to this. Sam hands the cell phone to me, who stands and takes it reluctantly."
"John, it's Ellen. Again. Look, don't be stubborn, you know I can help you. Call me." A woman said.
"Dad's going to kill you if he finds out." He said.
"He won't ever find out. But that message is four months old." He said.
"Dad saved that chick's message for four months?" I asked.
"Yeah." He said.
"Well, who's Ellen? Any mention of her in Dad's journal?" I asked.
"No. But I ran a trace on her phone number, and I got an address. Ask Bobby if we can use one of his cars."
Later
In a beat-up, poorly maintained minivan, Sam and I pull up to the Roadhouse Saloon.
"This is humiliating. I feel like a friggin' soccer mom!"
"It's the only car Bobby had running." Sam said.
We got out and look around and walked inside.
