Rivers Deep | Sam Winchester

12. Deeper Roots

"Storms Make Trees Take Deeper Roots." - Dolly Parton

• • •

A loud pounding on the door accompanied Dean's pounding head as he slowly came to. He looked over, seeing Noah sprawled on the floor with bruises circling his neck. He moved over, shaking his shoulder and Noah quietly groaned out, before winncing and raising a hand to his throat.

The door unlocked and opened as the manager stepped in, staring at them in slight shock before shaking his head, "It's past your checkout."

Dean sighed, rubbing his head. Noah sat up, hacking hard. Dean looked over to him in worry as he asked, "What?"

The manager sighed, "It's past checkout and I have a couple here that needs your room."

Dean looked over, seeing a very young blonde woman with a lot of makeup on, dressed scantily clad, as well as an older businessman. "Yeah, I'll bet they do," he muttered.

Noah continued to cough, pulling out his handkerchief from his pocket and spitting up a bit of blood into the rag. He wasn't in the least bit surprised. He wrapped it closed and placed it back in his back pocket.

"What time is it?" Dean asked. "12:30," the manager answered. Noah registered that bit and groaned quietly, as he slowly stood up.

"They guy that was with us, have you seen him?" Noah asked, his voice as hoarse as it could be. "Yeah, he left before dawn, in your car, and you should've gone with him becasue now I'm gonna have to charge you extra," the manager told them.

"Oh, son of a bitch," Noah and Dean said at the same time.

"It's just policy, sirs," the manager said, sounding slightly apologetic. Noah was glad, because at this point, the next person that got on his nerves would end up on the floor.

"I need to use your computer," Dean requested. "Why would I let you use my computer?" the manager asked him.

• • •

The manager counted the bills in his hand as Dean was on the phone with someone from the tech compnay that his and Sam's phones went through.

"Hi, uh, so sorry to bother you, but uh, my son snuck out of the house last night and went to see a, uh, Justin Timberlake concert," Dean stopped as the person on the other end said something, "What?"

"Yeah, Justin is quite the triple threat," Dean rolled his eyes, "Uh, anyway, he's not back yet, and I'm just, I'm starting to worry."

Noah popped the pill into his mouth, swallowing with a slight grunt of pain as he didn't take enough water and it brushed past the bruised flesh.

"Right, yeah, boys will be boys, but see, Sammy is a... diabetic," Dean explained to the woman on the phone, "And if he doesn't get his insulin, then I-I-I, I just have to find him."

Noah was slightly impressed as his acting skills over the phone. "Please, I'm begging you," Dean pleaded, "Yeah, no, no, no, I'm on the website right now, I just need to activate the GPS on his cellphone."

He typed the code in before it popped up, "Okay, right there, Duluth, Minnesota."

Noah looked up, thinking it over in his head. that would be a six and a half hour drive...

"Yeah, that is a long way to go for a concert... I appreciate your help," Dean hung up the phone, looking back to Noah, "Come on," he motioned for the door.

• • •

Six and a half hours later, they had arrived in Duluth, Minnesota and spotted the Impala in the parking lot of a small bar. The pair hurried out, Noah made sure Delta had her vest on, and they grabbed their guns. Dean rushed in first as Noah waited outside for a signal.