this is me trying, spn [ 3 ]

033. falling apart

"Come on, Cas, it's me. I've been trying to get ahold of you for days." Dean says over the phone. "I don't know what's going on, but we got a line on Dagon... and we got our asses handed to us, even with the Colt. So... could really use the backup. Call me back."

"So no luck with Cas, huh?" Sam asks.

"Yeah, still AWOL." Dean says.

"All right, so let's find him." Sam says.

"I've been trying, Sam. The GPS on his phone is turned off, and there's nothing in the system about some weird guy in a trench coat getting arrested or turning up dead." Dean says.

"Right. Dean, it's Cas. I mean, this isn't the first time he's dropped off the map, you know? And whatever's happening, he'll be fine. He always is." Sam says.

"Yeah." Dean mumbles. "What 'bout you? You got anything there, reading rainbow?"

"I stayed up all night, going through every book we have on demons, and it turns out we have a lot of books on demons."

"Anything on Dagon?"

"Mentions here and there, but nothing we can use. I guess the, uh, Princes of Hell are pretty good at staying off the radar."

"Well, yeah, isn't that kind of their thing?"

"Hmm. Just got an email from Mick. It's a case."

"Good."

"Looks like a guy named Jarrod Hayes disappeared in Tomahawk, Wisconsin a week ago. No witnesses, no body, but Mick says this place has a history."

"Meaning?"

"Well, it means a lot of people go missing in Tomahawk, one a year, every year from 1898 to 1997, and then nothing until now."

"So 20 years?"

"So maybe they're starting up again? Maybe it's a cycle of some sort?"

"Well... one way to find out." Dean says.

"Alright, I'll go, but if it ends up being Pennywise, I'm out." Daphne states.

"Ah, don't worry. You and Sammy can run away together." Dean smirks, clapping his brother on the back.

+++

They're at a cafe for dinner. Sam is researching while the young ones are eating and Dean is checking out the waitress.

"Black Bill is an urban legend, dates back more than a hundred years." Sam informs.

"Warm it up?" The waitress asks Dean, motioning to his coffee cup.

"Thank you." Dean tells her.

"A folklore story from 1907 that-- that mentions that... uh, back then, he was called Black William. So it looks like some time between then and... dude, focus." Sam says, seeing Dean staring at the waitress.

"I am focused." Dean insists and Billy rolls his eyes.

"Yeah, on the waitress' ass." Billy scoffs.

"Shut up." Dean smacks him over the head. "Yeah. Black Bill. What do you got?" Dean asks.

"All right, well, he lives in the woods, so he's like a local Jersey Devil. And apparently, he has the head of a goat." Sam says.

"A goat? Like... goat?" Dean asks.

"Yeah, a goat." Sam nods.

"Well, maybe that's what Daryn saw." Dean shrugs.

"Unless you think he was lying." Sam says.