Dean pulled away from the apartment building, already planning out his route to Blackwater Ridge. Sure, it would have been better with company, but Sammy was right...the kid had his own life now.
And besides, if Dean was traveling by himself there was no one to bitch at him about his music...or his beef jerky...or the amount of Red Bull he drank to stay awake on the road.
"You need to return to your brother."
Dean hadn't even fully finished swearing before he was burying his knife in the chest of the guy who'd just appeared next to him in the car.
The guy--some dark-haired dude in a light-colored coat, caught Dean's knife on his forearm and just stared him down with intense blue eyes.
He hadn't deflected the knife. Just let it stab right into his forearm like it was nothing.
Swerving a little, Dean hauled his pistol out next and unloaded round after round into the odd hitchhiker. His ears rang with every shot and he was sure he did some kind of permanent damage to himself, but when he looked back the guy was just sitting there, impassive, bullet holes smoking in the front of his shirt.
The guy said something, face tightening with impatience, and leaned forward enough to grab Dean's arm. Dean tried to pull away, but his ears suddenly cleared as a sort of tingling warmth ran through his body. Not just his ears...the pain in his hip from jumping off the bridge was gone.
"We're running out of time," the guy said again, in the patient tone that usually came from someone repeating themselves. "Sam is in danger."
"The hell does that mean?" Dean demanded...but the guy was gone. He let out another string of profanities and spun his car around, flooring it to get back down to the front of Sam's apartment building.
It looked quiet, but when Dean looked up at Sam's window he could see the light in the room was flickering, as though the room was on fire.
"Son of a bitch!" Stranger forgotten, Dean was out of the car and up the steps toward Sam's apartment in a moment, focused on nothing but saving his brother.
