The Colt (Supernatural Story)

Three

As they drove to where they were staying, Jackie noticed that Lily was clutching the wheel super tightly, her knuckles white.

"What is it? You haven't said a word since we left." She said.

"We shouldn't have been there..." Lily said. "I should've known they were coming.."

"Why?"

"We can't trust them." She said seriously. "They shoot first, ask questions later.."

Jackie's brain clicked right after she said that. "You're afraid they're gonna kill you, aren't you?"

Letting out a heavy breath, she felt her fangs poke her bottom lip. "They've killed my kind before no matter how nice or evil we are...and I, for sure, don't want them to figure out what I am..because they won't hesitate."

"Well, if they do know, maybe they'll give you a chance. You're with me, and I'm a hunter too! We're friends." Jackie said.

Her blue eyes darkened in thought. "That's different..you don't shoot first."
Stepping on the gas a little more, they drove the rest of the way in silence.

***

When Sam and Dean eventually made it back to the bunker, Dean grabbed a couple beers from the fridge, handing one to Sam.

"So now that we took care of that nest...are we getting back to searching for the colt?" Sam asked.

"Slow your roll, Sammy." Dean said, taking a drink. "Right now, let's just relax, and we can continue that tomorrow."
Walking off, Dean headed to his room, drinking more of his beer when he sat down on his bed, his head being lost in thoughts.
In a way, he wished hunting was easier...but that's never the case. Every time they go after it, it's always a life or death situation, always playing out how he might die in his mind: being drained clean by a vamp, stabbed by a demon or a ghost possessing him, or beheaded by the strength of a werewolf. Or becoming a hellhounds chew toy again.
Shivering, he finished off his beer, setting it on the ground before climbing up on the bed. Laying down, he folded his arms across his chest, closing his eyes.

***

Sam couldn't sleep, his mind set on finding the location of the colt. Searching around on his laptop, he pulled up omens and history pages, news articles, anything that could sound like it was around there. This is what he did other than helping Dean kill the monsters: he pinpoints where they were last seen, question the witnesses, and figure it all out in the end.
He came across a certain article, from a museum, including what appeared a photo of a journal entry. Enlarging it, he read through it.

𝓜𝓪𝓻𝓬𝓱 15, 1850

𝓣𝓸𝓭𝓪𝔂, 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓶𝓪𝔂 𝓫𝓮 𝓶𝔂 𝓵𝓪𝓼𝓽 𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓻𝔂 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓪 𝔀𝓱𝓲𝓵𝓮. 𝓘 𝓱𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓻𝓾𝓷. 𝓣𝓱𝓮𝔂'𝓻𝓮 𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓸 𝓶𝓮. 𝓘 𝓱𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻𝔂𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓫𝓮𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓭..𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓷 𝓶𝔂 𝓰𝓾𝓷. 𝓘𝓽'𝓼 𝓱𝓸𝔀 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝔂'𝓿𝓮 𝓫𝓮𝓮𝓷 𝓯𝓲𝓷𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓶𝓮.𝓣𝓸 𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓼𝓮 𝔀𝓱𝓸 𝓯𝓲𝓷𝓭 𝓲𝓽...𝓭𝓸 𝓷𝓸𝓽, 𝓘 𝓻𝓮𝓹𝓮𝓪𝓽, 𝓭𝓸 𝓷𝓸𝓽, 𝓽𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝓲𝓽 𝓯𝓻𝓸𝓶 𝔀𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓲𝓽 𝓵𝓪𝔂𝓼. 𝓘𝓽'𝓼 𝓪 𝓬𝓾𝓻𝓼𝓮...𝓫𝓮𝓵𝓲𝓮𝓿𝓮 𝓶𝓮.~𝓢𝓒

"Where it lays..." He said to himself. "'SC'." Right then, his brain clicked. "Samuel Colt..."

Immediately opening up a google map of Wyoming, he zoomed out on one area until he could see it all. There it was, just like before when they had to travel back in time. The railroad, but not an ordinary railroad. While it stretched for miles, it was in different directions, forming a giant pentagram.
It was a hundred square mile devils trap. Sam scoffed. "Smart guy, I'll give him that."

Closing his laptop, he went to wherever Dean went to tell him what he found that could very well lead them to the colt and, hopefully, be prepared enough for the upcoming fight.