First Hunt

Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

He was so full he passed out asleep thirty minutes after they left the parking lot, drowsing off somewhere between one Latin phrase and the next. Next thing he knew Dad was shaking him awake and they were in front of another motel.

“We're here. Wake up.”

It took a moment before his eyes could focus but he finally managed to open the car door, walk to the trunk, grab his things and follow Dad inside.

“Right, I have to change for this next part. Be right back,” Dad said as he went into the bathroom. When he came back Dean was stunned. Dad was in a suit.

Dad laughed at the look on his face, “It doesn't look that bad.” He reached into his bag and pulled out a badge that said FBI.

“Um, Dad. You don't work for the FBI. Isn't that illegal?”

Dad's laugh faded as he grew serious again. “It's part of what we do. I have to get information from the cops and they won't talk to some drifter. So, I pose as an FBI agent.”

“But what if they ask for your boss or something?” This felt wrong.

“I give them a card with a number that rings to Bobby. He pretends he's my boss and that's usually the end of it. If they don't seem to be buying it I split town and get someone else to do the hunt.”

“Is that why Uncle Bobby has so many phones? Do other hunters do the same thing?”

“Yes.” Dad sighed and sat down next to him. “Look, most of what I do is breaking some law or other. You have to understand, no one really believes in the monsters that we know about. We can't tell a cop that a string of murders stretching over decades is because of a vengeful spirit. They'd never believe us. So, we tell them lies which allow us to find out the truth.”

They'd lied a lot growing up but that was because they had to stay safe. Lying to get the truth was a different concept. One that he wasn't sure he liked. “That makes no sense.”

“The older you get, the less sense the world makes. I have something else for you to do while I talk to the cops. I'm going to take you to a library and I want you to research the history of that house. Who's lived in it, died in it, when it was built, what was there before it was built. Everything.”

He couldn't quite stop himself from rolling his eyes, books were not his thing.

“Dean!” Dad snapped, “Research is the most important part!” He stalked across the room, pulled out his journal, walked back and almost threw it into Dean's hands. “Every single thing in that book I learned through research. Knowledge is what keeps you alive, not weapons. Knowledge. All those books in Bobby's house? Research. He's read them over and over, he knows Japanese and Latin and who knows what else. That's why he's lived this long doing this.” Dad leaned closer to him, he was afraid to lean back because the look on Dad's face was so intense. “All the weapons in the world won't save you if you don't know what you're hunting and how to kill it. Monsters don't give second chances. Are we clear?”

He nodded, words wouldn't come out. Dad wasn't mad at him, there was something else in his tone, something that scared Dean much more than if Dad had been yelling at him in actual rage. He didn't understand why but he knew that what Dad was saying now was one of the most important things he would ever tell him. Dad took the journal out of his hands, put it back in his bag and grabbed his keys. “Do what you have to and then we need to get going.”

Dean nodded and went into the bathroom. As he washed his hands he took a good look into the mirror. No going back now. Don't screw this up! He opened the door and saw that Dad was standing by the hotel room door, waiting.