Tragedy ° DEAN WINCHESTER

xiv. | the sassier the better

The hunters then went back to the motel, taking up different areas. Dean was at the small table the room had, searching up cases on Sam's laptop. Sam was situated on his bed, a notepad in hand, a pen moving feverishly across the page. And Emery, well, she was on the phone with someone, yelling about some sort of papers.

"What do you mean it doesn't have my real parents on the registry! I need to know who they are, it's important!"

It turns out, while Emery was at Bobby's, she found out that she was actually adopted, twice. By John and the Wilsons. So, she was trying to find her real parents to see if they were anything that goes bump in the night. When Emery close her flip-phone, running a hand over her face in frustration, she flopped onto Dean and her's bed.

"So, I've been cruising some websites, I think I found a few candidates for our next gig," Dean explained. He took a sip of his coffee, before going back to the laptop. "A fishing trawler found off the coast of Cali. Its crew vanished. And, uh, got some cow mutilations in Texas. Hey!" He was talking to Sam, who was absorbed in his pad and pen. "Am I boring you with this hunting evil stuff?"

"Right now, you're boring me! So pick a case and let's go," Emery said, wanting to take her mind off of her real parents.

"No, I'm listening, keep going," Sam said, retreating back into the pad once again.

"And here, a sacramental man shot himself in the head, three times," Dean said, holding up his pinkie, ring finger, and middle finger up in exaggeration. He then proceeded to wave his arm around, as Emery huffed in annoyance, climbing over to Sam. "Any of these things blowing up your skirt pal?"

"Sam, I didn't know you were an artist," Emery mumbled, looking at the tree Sam had drawn in the notepad. "It's beautiful."

"I'm not," Sam mumbled, flipping through the pages. He had drawn the tree over, and over again, but on different pages of the pad. He was on the beginning one when Sam seemed to realize something. "Wait, I've seen this."

"Seen what?" Emery and Dean asked in unison, both equally confused.

Sam suddenly popped up, rushing to his bag and digging through it. Emery watched him with interest, head cocked to the side, sitting cross-legged, hands resting on her lap. He pulled out John's journal and Emery heard Dean say, "What are you doing?"

Sam rummaged through the front o the journal, before he pulled out a photo. He compared the notepad with it, before turning to the two others.

"I know where we have to go next."

"Where?" Dean answered.

"Back home." Sam told them. "Back to Kansas."

Emery looked between the boys. "Where in Kansas?"

The girl was ignored, however, when Dean spoke up. "Okay, random. Where did that come from?"

"Um, is anyone going to answer my question?"

"Alright, um, this photo was taken in front of our old house, right?" Sam walked forward, both brothers ignoring the very confused Wilson sitting on the bed.

John never went into detail on how he became a hunter. In fact, Emery didn't know where the boys used to call home. Sam was too young to actually remember and Dean never talked about it, only to Sam, but Emery could never hear cause he would always whisper it. I mean, she knew about Mary dying and John wanting to catch the thing that killed her, but that's about it.

"The house where mom died," Sam said.

"Yeah," Dean agreed, looking at the picture Sam had pulled from the journal.