Stand Still // [tw/spn/sh/twl]

Chapter 2

THE MEN OF LETTERS BUNKER, FRIDAY, 9:50 P.M.

"Really? A "kick me" sign?" Sam questioned as he entered the bunker, holding up the piece of paper that was previously taped to his back. "I got kicked in the shin by an eight year-old," he continued, earning a childish giggle from Dean, who sat with his feet propped up on the table as he read a magazine.

"I'm guessing that kid had a better time than you," Dean commented, earning a slap to the back of the head as Sam passed behind him.

"Any new missions?" Sam asked, grabbing a beer from the six-pack on the table before sitting down across from his older brother.

"Eh, nothing extreme," Dean mumbled, entranced by the magazine in his hands.

Sam rolled his eyes at Dean lack of focus as he leaned back in his chair. His eyes drifted across the room and eventually landed on a framed photo that was propped up on an end table. It was one of the few photos he and Dean still had of their parents, but beside them was an old family freind. His name: Alan Deaton. According to Dean, he knew their mother since they were young and vowed to Mary that he would use his knowledge of the supernatural world to protect Dean when the man was a child. Sam never met him since, according to Dean, once again, he had to flea their hometown for some unknown reason. Therefore, he's only seen pictures and heard stories of the man. However, just from Alan's bright smile present in the photo he was staring at, he could tell he had a good heart.

"—am. Sammy!"

Sam whipped his head around to look at Dean, who was now staring at him with a confused expression.

"You good?" Dean asked. "I was asking a very important question."

"Yeah," Sam said, shaking his head. "Yeah, no, I'm fine. What is it?"

Dean's expression remained stoic and serious before he grinned, flipping the magazine in his hands around and asking, "which one? Blonde or brunette?"

Sam let out a heavy sigh as he took a swig of his beer. Dean simply shrugged before looking back at the photos, mumbling something to himself, and then flipping to the next page.

An obnoxiously loud ringtone suddenly blared through the air, sounding off a Beyoncé song. Dean reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, glancing at Sam, who stared at him with both a shocked and tired expression.

"What?" the older of the two asked. "Everyone loves Beyoncé."

"Yello?" Dean said as he answered the call.

Sam could hear the faint voice of the person on the other line, but he couldn't tell who it was. However, he could tell from Dean's reaction that it wasn't anyone he knew.

"Hey, um," Dean began, clearing his throat as he dragged his feet off the table and sat up, "hey," he continued. "Wha-what're you...why are you calling?"

Sam narrowed his eyes as he watched the scene curiously. Dean suddenly seemed stressed and anxious. The sole of his foot tapped against the ground at a rapid pace as he listened to whoever was on the call speak.

"Uh, yeah, I...I'll definitely look into it," Dean said, sparing Sam no glance as he gave the caller his full attention. "Yeah, no problem...hey...why call so out of the blue? I mean, I know this is a Winchester matter, but couldn't you at least..ya know..show up?"

Dean's faced morphed through many emotions  over the course of the next few seconds; confusion, sadness, and anger were all evident on his face, but he eventually seemed to understand the callers situation, and he sighed.

"Yeah, no, I get it. Yeah...alright...I'll keep in touch...yeah...bye."

Dean ended the call, exhaling deeply as he set his phone down on the table and ran a hand over his face.

"You gonna tell me what that was about?" Sam questioned slowly, and, at first, Dean didn't answer. He just stared down at his phone. Then, his eyes found the picture that Sam was previously starting at.

"That was Alan," he finally said, "Alan Deaton."

[EDITED]