Friends in Low Places

14

[Born Under a Bad Sign]

UNDERPASS

Dean was on his phone, leaning against his car. He was fidgeting and upset. Francesca stood next to Dean, a worried look on her face.

"Ellen, it's me again. Any chance you've heard from him?" He paused. "I swear, it's like looking for my dad all over again. We're losing our minds here." He paused again. "No, Frankie and I've called him a thousand times, there's nothing but voicemail. We don't know where he went, or why. Sam's just gone." He phone beeped. "Hang on."

Dean got a call from Sam and answered. "Sammy? Where the hell are you? Are you okay?" He paused. "Hey, hey, hey! Calm down. Where are you? All right, don't move, Frankie and I are on our way."

Francesca glanced at Dean. "Is-

Dean nodded. "Yeah, Frankie, that was him."

MOTEL

Sam hung up the phone slowly, looking numb. His knuckles were bloody.

Dean and Francesca drove to reach Sam, passing a sign that read TWIN LAKES. They arrived at the hotel and parked and got out.

Dean and Francesca walked frantically down a narrow hallway, checking door numbers until they reached room 109 and knocked.

"Sam, it's us. Sam!" Dean called.

Francesca tried the door to find it open. Sam was sitting numbly on the bed.

"Sam?" Dean called. "Hey."

"Hey, Dean. Hey, Frankie," Sam replied.

Dean knelt beside him. "Are you bleeding?"

"I tried to wash it off."

Dean saw Sam's shirt covered in blood and groped at it, searching for a wound. "Oh my God."

"I don't think it's my blood."

"Whose is it?" Francesca wondered.

"I don't know."

"Sam, what the hell happened?" Dean asked.

Sam finally looked up. "Dean. Frankie. I don't remember anything."

Dean left the room, leaving Francesca with Sam.

She rifled through his bag, pulled out a shirt and handed it to him. "Here. Put this on. You'll feel clean."

Sam silently took the shirt before asking, "Coffee?"

"Anything you need."

Sam went to freshen up and Francesca brewed coffee for Sam.

Once he was out of the shower, Francesca poured him a cup of coffee and made it the way he liked it.

Sam sat at the table and sipped the coffee. "Thanks, Frankie."

"Sure," she replied. "Feeling better?"

"Yeah, a little."

"I'm glad, Sammy."

Dean returned to the room, carrying a grocery bag.

"What'd you find out?" Sam asked.

"You checked in two days ago under the name Richard Sambora," Dean told him. "Of course, I think the scariest part about this whole thing is the fact that you're a Bon Jovi fan-"

"Dean."

"Your room's been quiet, nobody's noticed anything unusual."

"You mean no one saw me walking around covered in blood?"