(Untitled)

[weary_head]

Dean's legs ate the distance between Sharon's hut and his own in mere seconds, Dean himself slipping inside quietly, pausing only long enough to arm himself. After this long on the island, some of the necessity burned into him by years of John's training had run out, but Dean's hands and fingers worked by habit well enough, and he was out the door

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[badblood_rising]

"Dean?" Sam called back, his voice rough and confused. It was still early; not so early that Sam was still in bed, but early enough that Dean practically knocking down his door could be handled with anything other than annoyance.

He came into the main room from his bedroom, jeans on but shirt still rucked up on his forearms, about to be pulled on. "Okay, dude, I'm glad you figured out the knock first thing, but hasn't Angua trained you to wait yet?" It was only after Sam had taken a half second to pull the shirt over his head that he noticed the worry hidden in the lines of his brother's face.

"..What's going on?"

[weary_head]

Dean took a breath, keeping his back straight against the sudden crush of unhappy nostalgia washing over him.

Dad's on a hunting trip. The words were there on the tip of his tongue, and Dean could almost wish they were true. A hunting trip he could do something about, but if Dad had disappeared, then they were helpless. Worse, they were alone again, and so was Cori.

"I need you to help me find Dad."

[badblood_rising]

"Did something happen?" Something might have happened to the kids or Sharon. That was the first and most apparent reason to go hunting down Dad, in Sam's mind. He hadn't been on the island long enough to guess at the darker, sadder option automatically.

Without waiting for an answer, Sam went for some socks and his shoes. Regardless of what Dean said next, he'd asked Sam to help him find Dad, and Sam would.

[weary_head]

"I don't know yet." Dean's eyes were on Sam as he laced up his shoes, but all Dean saw was their father. The way John had looked at him when he was lying in that hospital bed, that sad smile on his face at the Devil's Gate... There'd been so many goodbyes between them that were supposed to be the last and never were, but what if last night really was the last time Dean would see his father, and John was really gone?

Dean blinked, checking the gun tucked into his belt. "Sharon woke up and he was gone. Didn't leave a note, but you know Dad. Doesn't always think to."