❰❰ ୧ ⋅ ˚ ₊ ·┊ೃ ' 🏹 018.
ACT ONE ✩ ‧ ₊ ૪
❛ sure this is a good plan? ❜

𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐊𝐈𝐓𝐒𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄, 𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐀 three brothers slept in after another long hunt in the town over. Sam laid firmly on his own bed, his arm dangling off the side while both Dean and Bowie were forced to share the other — both too stubborn to take the itchy couch and tied with scissors in the hand game that used to settle everything as children.

It was four in the morning and Bowie had the blanket over his head like a child, texting away on his phone to Kit as they talked about everything and anything. He'd text Katherine but— well, she was busy. Not that he minded her sudden absence. However, Kit filled his comfort just fine.

They've been talking nonstop since last week.

Kit: Your birthday is in two days, any plans?

He froze in surprise, popping his head out from the blanket and narrowing his eyes at the digital clock, it was, in fact, April 11th. Two days before his birthday.

Bowie: How'd you know?

Kit: I had to check your ID at the bar.

He hesitates, feeling an ick in his chest at the thought of his birthday rearing its ugly head once again. It was a day of bitter reminders. The first reminder being the fact that he was born.

And in a family like his, apparently, that wasn't a good thing.

Bowie: Let's pretend it's not my birthday

Kit: Not a chance!

Bowie laughed at the little horrible emojis that Kit had sent, a busted-looking cake and balloons.

Kit: So you're doing nothing at all?

Bowie: Like my brothers would remember it

Kit: You can remind them, make them feel bad.

Kit: Who would forget a birthday for someone as cute as you?

His face tints a soft shade of red, mostly out of embarrassment but before he could type out a strongly worded insult, the phone on the dresser buzzed loudly, causing him to jump out of his skin and pop his head out of the blanket like a panicked toddler.

Still, on his back, Sam reaches for the phone.

Bowie slowly grabs his hearing aids off the same table, hooking them into his ears and turning them to the max, "Who calls this early in the morning, anyway?"

Sam idly shrugs, eyes still closed as he flipped it open and held it against his ear. He yawns, tired eyes blinking away sleep, "Hello?"

"Sam, is that you?"

The youngest brother slowly sits up, "Dad?"

At that moment, Bowie felt the air in his lungs evaporate from his chest, his lips parting in controlled horror as Sam slowly turned to look at him.

"Are you hurt?" Sam asked numbly into the phone.

"I'm fine," John responds.

"We've been looking for you everywhere," He firmed, "We didn't know where you were."

"Sammy, I'm alright," The man confirms, "How are you and Dean?"

Sam's face twisted slightly, "And Bowie," He corrects, "We're all okay."

There was a pause, and Bowie leaned forward in anticipation even though he couldn't hear a thing.

"He's with you?" John sounded firm, "You found him."

"He found me," Sam answers softly, "Dad, where are you?"

Bowie didn't realize Dean was awake until he felt the bed dip down behind him, looking slightly over the deaf man's shoulder as he listened to Sam speak.

There was a slight rage that filled Dean's chest. One that came from two parts of himself for two different reasons. Reason one: The safety he promised Bowie against John. Reason two: Why would his dad call Sam and not him?

"Sorry, kiddo, I can't tell you that."

"What? Why not!" Sam raged.

"Is that Dad?" Dean asked.

"No, it's Santa," Bowie responds, not meaning to be sarcastic in a time so serious. Still, Dean didn't seem phased by it anymore.

"Look, I know this is hard for you to understand. You're just gonna have to trust me on this," said John.

"You're after it, aren't you?" Sam realized, "The thing that killed mom."

Bowie's heart tightened. This was it, the moment that he had been waiting for, the verdict. Was he finally going to know what killed his mother? What dragged her up that ceiling and ruined his life? If John knew what it was, that meant they could kill it, right? It meant that the closure can start.

"It's a demon, Sam."

"A demon?" Sam repeats, "You know for sure?"

"A demon," Bowie repeats in a mumble, thinking as he bit the skin of his thumb.

"A demon? What's he saying?" Dean asked calmly.

"I do," John responds, "Listen, Sammy, I- uh...I also know what happened to your girlfriend, I'm so sorry. I would have done anything to protect you from that."

Sam didn't acknowledge that, not wanting to hear sympathy from the man who could've stopped it all with a simple phone call, "You know where it is?"

"Yeah, I think I'm finally closing in on it."

"Let us help."

"You can't," John shook his head, "You can't be any part of it."

Sam's face heats up, "Why not?"

"Give me the phone," Dean says suddenly, holding his hand up.

"Listen, Sammy, that's why I'm calling," John sighed, "You and your brothers, you've got to stop looking for me. Bowie got close, can't have that happening again. Now, I need you to write down these names."

"Names? What names, Dad? Talk to me! Tell me what's going on!" Sam begged.

"Look, we don't have time for this!" He snapped, "This is bigger than you think. They're everywhere! Even us talking right now, it's not safe."

"No!" Sam yelled, "No way!"

"Give me the phone!" Dean firmed.

"I've given you an order," Said John, "Now, you stop following me, and you do your job. Do you understand me? Now take down these names."

Bowie closed his eyes, throwing himself back on the bed and placing his hands over his ears, blocking out the soft buzzes and voices of angry brothers with a simple drag of a dial.

The world had gone quiet and he could think.

He didn't remember, but it had been a demon he saw in that nursery.

Bowie didn't open his eyes when Dean had taken the phone and jotted the names down, he didn't move when the line went dead and the eldest had slammed the phone down in aggravation.

John did not even say goodbye to them before he hung up.

In fact, Bowie hadn't even spoken when Sam was standing over him, his jaw locked in bitter thoughts as he looked over his older brother in slight worry.

"You okay?" He asked.

Bowie firmed a nod, and that was all.

*·˚ ༘ ➳〔 𝙗𝙤𝙝𝙚𝙢𝙞𝙖𝙣 〕 ࿐ ࿔*:🖇

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐄 was filled with questions and not enough answers between the three brothers. Bowie, like always, sat in the back with his legs crossed at the ankles on the leather bench seat, cleaning a pistol with a cleaning pipe. He listened to the debate between his brothers, popping comments every once and a while so they wouldn't be too concerned about his cold behavior.

Still, it wasn't hard to hide from them, they never paid much attention anyway.

"All right, so the names Dad gave us, they're all couples?" Sam turns to his brother for confirmation, driving the Impala down the dark highway.

Dean nods, "Three different couples all went missing."

"And they're all from different towns, different states?" Sam frowned.

"That's right, yeah. Washington, New York, Colorado. Each couple took a road trip cross-country. None of them arrived at their destination, and none of them were ever heard from again," He educated.

Bowie sighed in the backseat, looking bored, "It's a big country, Dean. They could've gotten lost and fell into a pit, they could've gotten into a car crash and became so dismembered that Police couldn't ID them and died as Jane Doe's," He continued to list.

"You're right," Dean agrees, "But each one's route took them through the same part of Indiana, always on the second week of April, one year after another."

Bowie goes stiff, "This is the second week of April, in case you forgot." He reminds his brothers, looking between them like he was personally offended, "And in two days it'll be April 13th, which is pretty important don't you think?"

He was testing them.

Sam and Dean glance at each other.

"Nope, not really," Dean responds, shrugging.

Bowie deflates but wasn't surprised.

"So, dad is sending us to Indiana to hunt something before another couple vanishes?" Sam concludes.

"Yahtzee," Dean nods, "Also, can you imagine putting together a pattern like this?" He says in admiration, "The different orbits Dad had to go through, the man's a master!"

Bowie clenched his jaw, "Yeah, don't cream your pants." He muttered bitterly.

Dean scoffed, "Like you could do better?"

He looked smug for once, "Let's not forget who called who the greatest tracker in the world."

Dean grinned cheekily, "I was just sayin' that to get you to come."

In response, Bowie reeled back, "Take that back."

"Nope."

"Take it back!" Bowie hits him.

Dean hits back.

Bowie hits again.

They fight.

"Hey! Hey!" Sam snapped, pulling the car over and smacking in between them, "Listen to me! We are not going to Indiana!"

The seemed to get them to stop instantly.

"What? Why?" Dean asked.

"We're not?" Bowie questioned.

"No, we're going to California." Sam answers, "Dad called from a pay phone, Sacramento area code." He looks between them, "If this demon killed Mom and Jess, and Dad's closing in, we got to be there. We've got to help."

"Dad doesn't want our help," Dean firmed.

"I don't care," Sam shrugged.

"He's given us an order," Dean pressed.

"I don't care," Sam dragged out, "We don't always have to do what he says," He looked back at Bowie, "You're the one who taught me that."

Bowie smiled softly, "You're welcome, bubs."

Dean looks between them, rolling his eyes, "Sam, Dad is asking us to work jobs, to save lives. It's really important."

"I understand, believe me, but I'm talking one week here, man, to get answers. To get revenge!"

Dean sighs, "Alright, look, I know how you feel—"

"Do you?" Sam reeled, "How old were you when Mom died, 4? Bowie, 2? Jess died six months ago. How the hell would you know how I feel?"

Bowie looked down, "You're right," He cuts in, "I'm not going to pretend I understand what you're going through, but I understand the logic. I've lived my life through logical choices, and following your father on a goose chase through California isn't logically smart."

Sam flared his nostrils, listening.

"He called through a pay phone this morning, who knows how far he traveled between that time," Bowie continued, "That kind of tracking can only go so far, you need a solid base to start with."

"That's why you should come with me!" Sam says.

Dean shook his head, "No. Dad said it wasn't safe for any of us. I mean, he knows something that we don't. So if he says to stay away, we stay away."

Sam reeled back to him, "I don't understand the blind faith you have in this man. It's like you don't even question him—"

"Yeah, it's called being a good son!" Dean snaps.

That seemed to push Sam over the edge, getting out of the car with a clenched jaw.

"Good going, soldier boy," Bowie scoffs, following after him.

Sam was midway from getting his duffle bag from the backseat when Bowie had rounded the car.

"You're a selfish bastard, you know that?" Dean followed them, "You just do whatever you want! You both do! You don't care what anybody thinks."

"Yeah? Well maybe you should give it a try," Bowie faced him, their chests knocking together.

"Is that really what you think of me?" Sam asked.

"Yes, it is." He replied instantly.

"Well, this selfish bastard is going to California." Sam smiled mockingly, throwing another bag over his shoulder and turning toward his other brother, "Are you coming?"

He balances on the heels of his feet, glancing between his brothers, then, he fished his duffle bag out of the trunk and slams it closed, "Alright."

"Hey! We had a deal," Dean points to him, taking a step forward when the brothers moved to leave, "You're supposed to be on my side, here."

Bowie sucked his teeth, "We made a deal that I helped you find your dad, and from the looks of it, that's what I'm doing." He sighed, "Goodbye, Dean."

Dean scoffs a shocked laugh, stepping back, "You can't be serious."

"We are serious," Sam responds, keeping his pace.

"It's the middle of the night!" He called out, "Hey! I'm taking off. I will leave your asses, you hear me?"

"Nope!" Bowie responds, pointing to his hearing aids even though they all knew he could hear Dean's bellowing, "I don't."

"That's what we want you to do," Sam adds.

Dean nods bitterly, and turns away, "Goodbye, Sam. Bow."

The two watched as Dean got into the car, and drove off fast.

Bowie sighed, "Sure this is a good plan?"

"It's the only one we got," Sam answered.

*·˚ ༘ ➳〔 𝙗𝙤𝙝𝙚𝙢𝙞𝙖𝙣 〕 ࿐ ࿔*:🖇

𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐇𝐈𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐋𝐎𝐖 for Bowie and in all honesty, not how he wanted to spend his birthday tomorrow if this walking keeps up. Kit promised to text him at midnight seconds before his phone died, so he couldn't respond.

He wouldn't be surprised if Sam didn't wish him a Happy Birthday tomorrow, it was probably the last thing on his mind. They walked down the side of the highway that morning before, and Bowie could claim he didn't mind but, whenever he thought about it, it stung a little.

A girl with short-cropped blonde hair sits on the cement with her back turned from them, she wore headphones, bopping her head to the music as she waited for someone to roll by and offer her a ride, just like them.

Sam goes up and taps her shoulder, causing her to jump up from the ground, "You scared the hell out of me," She responds, pulling her headphones off and looking between the brothers.

Bowie furrowed his face at the woman, something felt off.

"I'm sorry," Sam responds, keeping his hands up, "We just thought you might need some help."

Bowie hadn't thought that. And if he had a choice, he would've ignored her if he could. Maybe that was just him being cold about the situation, but he didn't think they had time for chit-chat with random strangers. ''

"I'm good, thanks," She responds.

"Uh, so, where are you heading?" Sam continued on.

"No offense, but no way I'm telling you two," She looks between them again.

Fair, Bowie thought.

"Why not?" Sam frowned.

"You can be some kind of freak duo," She answered, "I mean, you are hitchhiking," She looked to Bowie, "And your partner there appears mute."

Sam chuckles, "Well, so are you." He reminds, "And my brother isn't mute," He hits Bowie's chest, "Right, Bow?"

In response, Bowie pinched his lips together in a tight, awkward smile.

The woman nods in amusement, "Right," She dragged.

A car horn grabs their attention. Bowie feels his body stiffen when a man in a cap pulls up in front of them, driving a dirty white van.

The older man's attention seemed to be on the blonde, "Need a ride?" He asked.

"Yeah," Sam and the girl say together.

"Just her," Said the man, "I ain't takin' you two."

Bowie scoffed, not surprised.

The blonde quickly grabs her bags and slid into the passenger seat, smirking at the boys as she did. Bowie raised an eyebrow at her, wanting to say something snarky like; 'Have fun getting kidnapped.' but he decided against it.

"You trust shady van guy and not us?" Sam asked sarcastically.

"Definitely," She smiled.

Sam watched the van drive off in the direction they needed to go, "You know, you could've helped me," He tells Bowie, "You're the one everyone says yes to."

Bowie smiled, "Yet, I'm not the one everyone takes no for an answer."

Sam sighed but continued on.

"Do you think this is a good idea?" Bowie asked, following after him.

"Are you backing out?" Sam asked.

"No," He says quickly, "I just think we could've drugged Dean and took the Impala instead of hitchhiking and running into weird chicks on the side of the road. Plus, I'm hungry."

Sam grinned at his words, "I'll get you something to eat the second we find civilization."

And he was right. The brothers had found a bus stop an hour later, and Sam had bought him something from the vending machine. Happy Birthday to him, he thought, munching on a bag of stale potato chips as he watched Sam talk to the worker behind the counter.

"Sorry, the Sacramento bus doesn't run again till tomorrow," She tells them, "Five o' five pm."

"Tomorrow?" Sam repeats, "There's got to be another way."

"Well, there is. Buy a car," She responds bluntly.

Sam scoffs, grabbing his duffle from the floor and moving away from the window in annoyance, "It's too early in the morning for this." He grumbled.

Bowie steps forward, smiling at the women with his charming little dimples. The woman smiled lightly at him, raising an eyebrow, "Can I help you?"

He goes to speak, until his eyes land on a wrack behind her full of nips to purchase. He raised an eyebrow, that couldn't be illegal to sell at a bus stop but he wasn't going to question it, "How much for those?"

She looks behind her, "You got an ID on you?" She questioned.

He rolled his eyes, "How much?" He asked again, pulling out his wallet.

"Ten a bottle, strong stuff," She responds, taking his ID and glancing over it, "Those tiny little bottles of booze come in 50 ml nowadays."

Aye, it's almost his birthday, what's the harm?, "I'll take two," He responds.

"Happy pre-Birthday," She smiled, handing him the little travel-sized bottles that were smaller than his hand, pocketing his twenty-dollar bill.

Bowie grimaced at her words, "Thanks." He responds.

". . .Just trying to get to California with my brother," Sam could be heard.

Bowie lifts his head, frowning when he realized Sam was talking to someone – not just anyone, the girl from earlier. She was sitting on the ground, smirking up at Sam as they spoke. Bowie sighed, not liking her vibe for a second.

There was something off about her. Something he couldn't place and that thought alone irked him. He couldn't help but feel on guard with the blonde around them, and every time he tried to hold eye contact with her she'd instantly look away.

"No way," She dragged, "Me too!" She gets to her feet, "You know, the next bus isn't until tomorrow."

"Yeah, that's the problem," Sam responds, glancing to the side once Bowie steps next to him.

"Why? What's in Cali that's so important?" She pressed.

Bowie raised a suspicious eyebrow, "It's personal."

"Oh, so he speaks," She turned to him, smiling, "Well, whatever it is, I'm sure it can wait one more day, right? I'm Meg."

"Sam," He shakes her hand, "This is my brother Bowie."

"Like David?" She asked him.

"Like, Bohemian," Sam answered. Bowie clenched his jaw at his little brother's lack of privacy, especially when it's not his own, "And no, not like Rapsody."

"That's cool, much better than just Sam," Meg teased.

"Samuel," The youngest corrects.

Bowie didn't think Meg knew them well enough to tease, and said nothing as a response. She frustrated him and he didn't know why.

Still, Sam was keen on talking to the girl, and Bowie had no choice but to tag along silently. He wanted to text Kit, or maybe even Katherine but with his phone dead-

"You need a charger?" Meg questioned, pulling hers out before he could say no and taking the phone out of his hand. He clenched his jaw, watching as she plugged it in, "There, now you can join the conversation."

Sam glanced between them, "Erm, so, are you on some kind of vacation or something?"

Meg laughs, "Yeah, right. It's all sipping cristal poolside for me. No. I had to get away from my family."

How convenient, Bowie thought.

"Why?" Sam asked her.

"I love my parents, and they wanted what's best for me. They just didn't care if I wanted it," She answered. "I was supposed to be smart, but not smart enough to scare away a husband. Well, it's just. . .because my family said so I'm supposed it sit there and do what I'm told. So, I just went on my own way instead."

Bowie listened intensely to her words, glancing with his arms crossed between Meg and his brother. It seemed Sam understood what she was saying, his eyes so locked onto her words that Bowie found himself frowning.

Is that why Sam was doing this? Going against Dean and John simply because he feels the need to do the exact opposite. Maybe so, Bowie wasn't one to judge, but with this mindset and the need for revenge? That made Sam dangerous to himself.

Bowie bit the inside of his cheek, contemplating if this was the best option. What would facing John do right now for Sam besides getting him riled up? He wouldn't hold it past his brother to only be searching for the man just to yell at him.

"I'm sorry," Meg adds after, "The things you say to people you hardly know."

"No, it's okay, I know how you feel," Sam says quickly, "Remember that brother I mentioned to you before? Our old brother, the one we were road-tripping with. It's kinda the same deal."

"And that's why you two aren't riding with him anymore?" She concluded. Sam shook his head. Meg raised her beer, "Here's to us then. The food might be bad, and the beds might be hard, but at least we're living our own lives. . .and nobody else's."

Sam clicked his bottle against hers, but Bowie had stood up abruptly, grabbing his things and shoving them in his pockets before steadily making it out of the bus station.

He needed a breath.

"Excuse me, one second," Sam smiled at the girl before rushing after his brother, "Hey! Hey, Bow, wait," He chuckled in confusion, "What's gotten into you?"

"What exactly do you plan to do once we find John?" Bowie asked suddenly, "I mean, really, when you see him face to face after three years, what are you gonna do?"

Sam paused, stunned, "I-I don't-"

"You gonna scream in his face? Demand him to tell you everything as if he doesn't strive on keeping us in the dark?" Bowie continued, "Sam, we're stronger together. You're so angry about Jessica, that you're willing to go in guns blazing."

Sam clenched his jaw, "Once we find Dad, he'll have to tell us what's going on, he'll have to let us help kill that demon."

"And what if he doesn't?" Bowie pressed, shaking his head softly, "What's your plan here, Sam?" He sighed, "Look, I've always been ready to follow you to the end of the world," He says softly, "But I can't keep going if we don't have a solid plan. I'm here to help you find John, yeah, but I can't. . .I can't just face him like this."

Dean wanted Bowie to find John because he was missing. But he's not missing, he's running. Not just running. He was running away from them. He didn't want their help, he didn't want them to be involved, so what was the point in chasing after him if they don't have a solid reason why?

"Fine," Sam sobered, looking slightly annoyed, "Then don't follow me. I'm finding Dad because I want answers, I want to avenge Mom and Jess. So. . .if you don't want that, then go. Meg is going down to California, I can just hitch with her until then."

Bowie reeled back, "So, you'd rather go off with a random girl you don't know than talk this out with your brothers?"

"I'd rather go my own way than have you hold me back," Sam responded far too quickly, his face instantly morphing into regret at his words, "That's not– that's not what I–"

"No, you're right," Bowie nods, his lips pinched together, "I'd clearly just hold you back. I mean, I'm sure you got all this figured out, you'll be able to find him in no time."

"Bowie, I didn't mean it like that," Sam frowned.

"I mean it like that," He responds firmly.

*·˚ ༘ ➳〔 𝙗𝙤𝙝𝙚𝙢𝙞𝙖𝙣 〕 ࿐ ࿔*:🖇

𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐘 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 between the brothers and it was clearly noticeable. The reluctant trio lay around the bus station, waiting for the bus to California that came tomorrow. Bowie sat on a bench, legs crossed at the ankles while he violently sketched at a dingy sketchpad with a pen, glancing ever so often at Meg and Sam who chatted away on the floor.

The phone in his pocket buzzed. Bowie glanced quickly at the pair, before standing up and walking away, fishing his phone out of his pocket. The man frowned. Dean was calling him.

"Hello?" He asked, unsure.

"Scarecrow," Dean says quickly, breathlessly even.

Bowie reeled back, "I'm not that lanky-"

"No, doofus," He cuts off, "The scarecrow is what's killing the couples. It climbed off its cross and almost gutted its new victims, we escaped with luck."

Bowie's hold body stiffens at his words, his mind flipping a switch into hunter mode, "The scarecrow climbed off its cross?" He repeats.

"Hey, I'm tellin' ya. Burkittsville, Indiana, fun town," Dean responds sarcastically.

He scoffed, "Oh, I bet. Did the couple get out of there?"

Dean hummed a no, "I got them out. You do know I can cope without you idiots, right?"

"Never said you couldn't," Bowie responds, thinking hard. "Well this isn't Oz, it's not like scarecrows have hearts-"

"Brains," Dean interjected, "Scarecrow wanted the brain, the Tinman wanted the heart."

Bowie pinched his lips together, holding back the urge to call him a nerd, "Anyways. It's most likely being possessed by something. Like when witches use voodoo dolls to do their dirty work from afar. Something is controlling it, maybe even a spirit."

"Close, but no," The eldest says, "It's more than a spirit. It's a God. A Pagan God."

Bowie felt an excitement bubble, glancing over at Sam to make sure he was still distracted, "No way. You're dealing with a Pagan god? How do you know?"

"Don't make your hunting undies tight, alright? Your excitement is concerning," Dean picked, "The annual cycle of its killings, and the fact that the victims are always a man and a woman, like some kind of fertility rite."

"Holy shit," Bowie responds.

"Yeah, I know. And you should see the locals. The way they treated this couple, fattening them up like a Christmas turkey."

"Sorta like a send-off, last mean kind of thing," Bowie nods, "In Pagan cults, when a man and woman are chosen or- sometimes even volunteer to be sacrificed- they always throw them a little party, extra nice, extra food."

"Yeah, I'm thinking a ritual sacrifice to appease some Pagan God," Dean adds.

Bowie leans against a vending machine, "So, the story goes; A God possesses the Scarecrow, the Scarecrow takes the sacrifices, and for another year all things are Heaven on Earth in the town?"

"Basically, yeah. The crops won't wilt and disease won't spread."

"And do you know what God you're dealing with?" Bowie asked.

"Not yet," Dean responds, "I'm actually on my way to a local community college. I got an appointment with a Professor. Considering I don't have my geeky little sidekick brothers to do all the research."

"We," Bowie corrects.

There was a pause on the other line, "What?"

He sighed, "We, have an appointment with that Professor."

"Is Sam-"

"No, just me. He's still very keen on going to California, me not so much anymore," Bowie sighed.

"What changed your mind?" Dean asked.

The man paused, "I don't like doing this with only half a plan," He admits, "Makes me paranoid. Especially not when it comes to John, he's unpredictable and I don't think I can handle both those hotheads at once."

"I get that," Dean says lightly, "You know, about what I said-, I just, I want you to know-, don't think-"

"God, Dean," Bowie cuts off, shaking his head, "If I had a dollar for every time you needed to apologize to me, I'd have retired at eighteen," He looks up for a moment, closing his eyes to gather himself, "From this point on, sorry doesn't mean shit to me. Just prove me wrong and do better next time, yeah?"

Dean gave a quick nod on the other end, sobering instantly. He felt a small weight release from his shoulders. Deep down he didn't like when Bowie was mad at him. It made him feel like a guilty little boy standing in front of a puppy he kicked on accident.

"You need a ride?" Dean asked.

"No, I'll figure something out."

"And Sam?"

Bowie glanced back again, seeing Sam fast asleep against a pillar, "He'll understand. Either that, or he won't care, he's got company either way."

"Sounds good."

"Oh, and Dean?" Bowie calls.

"Yeah?"

"I'm nobody's sidekick."

[ HOW WE FEELING? back on my winchester bullshit, I love them ]