Hunted {Dean Winchester 3}

Chapter 41

"You have no faith in me and it hurts me deeply." Dean said. 

"Mm-hm, I'm sure." 

"Milan, Ohio. Birthplace of Thomas Edison." Dean stated. 

"Yeah, right. So what?" Sam asked.

"Keep reading." Dean told him.

Sam sighed, scanning the pamphlet. "You're kidding." He looked up at Dean.

Dean smiled, wiggling his eyebrows.

___

"And we're walking. And we're walking." The museum guide said, leaning a group of people into another room filled with glass cases full of historical artifacts. "And here we have one of the museum's most unique and treasured possessions: Thomas Edison's 'spirit phone.'" She put air quotes around the words.  "Did you know that Mr. Edison, while being one of America's most beloved inventors was also a devout 'occultist'? Ooh."

"Who didn't know that?" I asked quietly.

"Of course, you know that. You and your odd history facts." Dean said. "What's with the quote-y fingers?" 

"He spent years working on this, his final invention, which he was convinced could be used to 'communicate' with the 'dead.' Pretty spooky, huh?" The guide checked her watch. "And we're walking. We are walking. We're walking. And we're not touching that."

The guide and the small group disappeared into the next room. 

Sam pulled out the EMF detector.

"Anything?" Dean asked.

Sam shook his head. "Nothing."

Evie leaned forward, trying to grab something on the case next to us. I grabbed her hand. "You can't take that."

"What do you think?" Dean asked, looking over the spirit phone. 

"Honestly, it kind of looks like an old pile of junk to me." Sam said.

"Who are you and what have you done with Sam?" Millie asked.

"It's not even plugged in." Dean agreed.

"Maybe it didn't work like that."

"I highly doubt it did." I spoke up. "I mean, it's not like they were plugging into the wall like a landline or something."

"Okay. Maybe it's like a radio tower, you know? Broadcasting the dead all over town." Dean shrugged. 

"Could be." Sam shrugged.

"That makes more sense." I mumbled.

"Well, the caller ID is 100 years old, right?" Dean asked. "Right around the time this thing was built."

"But why would it all of a sudden start working now?" Sam asked.

"I don't know." Dean said. "But as long as the moldy are calling the freshes around here, it's the best reason we got."

"Yeah, maybe."

"So maybe it really is dad." Dean said.

A part of me hoped it wasn't. I think it would be worse if it was. Hearing from my own dad hurt. It might make it easier if it weren't really him. 

___

It was the middle of the night when I woke up to an empty bed. I slid my hand across the sheets, hoping to find Dean. I sat up once realizing he wasn't in bed. Sam was asleep, awkwardly trying to stay on one side of the bed whereas Millie didn't really care. 

I stood, quietly stepping past a sleeping Evie in her collapsible crib. I made my way over to Dean, who sat at the table with a coffee in hand and his phone resting beside him.