[Congratulations. One Shapeshifter eliminated.]
[Reward Granted: 3 Supernatural Points.]
They slipped out through the back exit into the alley.
Ron was standing there, still clutching the shotgun, eyes wide and adrenaline burning through him.
Sam stepped toward him. "You need to leave. Right now. Get out of the city and don't come back."
Ron blinked. "Why?"
Dean stared at him. "Because you walked into a bank with a rifle. You think that's not going to follow you?"
"But I came to find the mandriod who—" Ron started.
"Doesn't matter," Dean cut him off sharply. "You think the cops are gonna care about your theory? All they'll see is an armed robbery."
Ron's face fell as reality finally settled in.
"Yeah," he muttered. "I'm screwed."
Sirens wailed closer.
Henry glanced toward the street entrance. "Guys, I think we should move."
He pulled off the borrowed police jacket and cap and tossed them into the back of the patrol car.
Dean nodded once. "Time to go."
They didn't wait.
Dean and Sam took off down the alley toward the Impala. Henry followed, keeping pace.
Behind them, Ron stood frozen for half a second before deciding survival was more important than pride.
He ran too.
The next morning, in a cheap motel just outside Greenfield, Henry was dead asleep.
The banging on the door was violent enough to rattle the frame.
"I don't need room service," Henry muttered, dragging a pillow over his head.
"I'm not room service. It's Dean. Open up," came the irritated reply.
Henry groaned, rolled off the bed, and staggered toward the door. He unlocked it and pulled it open with half-lidded eyes.
"Dean… I am not a morning person," Henry said.
Dean pushed past him without asking and scanned the room quickly, like he expected something to jump out from behind the curtains.
"Did you see Sam?" Dean asked.
Henry blinked. "Why? What happened?"
Dean's jaw was tight. "He's gone."
Henry straightened a little. "Gone as in breakfast gone or gone as in missing?"
"Missing," Dean said flatly.
Henry felt the sleep leave him instantly.
"Come again?" he said.
Dean turned to face him fully. "Sam's missing. And I've got a bad feeling about it."
Dean and Henry went straight to the front office.
The receptionist was half-asleep behind the counter, flipping through a magazine. He barely looked up when Dean approached.
"Did you see my brother leave?" Dean asked, trying to keep his voice steady.
The guy shrugged. "People check in. People check out. I don't track 'em."
Dean's expression darkened. "He didn't check out."
Another shrug. "Then I guess he's still around."
Henry stepped in before Dean lost it.
"Can we check your security footage?" Henry asked calmly.
The receptionist blinked at him like he'd just asked for nuclear launch codes.
"Security footage?" the guy repeated. "This is a roadside motel, man. We got keys and vending machines. That's it."
"No cameras?" Henry pressed.
"No cameras."
***
They ended up at a small diner a few miles from the motel.
Dean was at a corner booth, phone pressed to his ear.
"Ellen, it's Dean… yeah. You heard from Sam?" He paused, listening. "No, he didn't call you? Didn't mention heading anywhere?"
Henry sat across from him with his laptop open, Ghost Hacker Specs resting low on his nose.
Dean ran a hand through his hair. "Alright. If he contacts you, you call me. Immediately." He hung up.
"No luck?" Henry asked without looking up.
"No," Dean replied. "He didn't reach out to her."
Henry nodded and kept typing.
He had already pulled nearby traffic feeds and a few gas station cameras within a mile of the motel. Most showed nothing but empty roads in the early dawn.
Then one clip caught his eye.
"Dean," Henry said quietly. "I found him."
He turned the laptop slightly.
On the screen, grainy footage from a small parking lot near the motel showed Sam approaching a parked sedan. He looked tense but steady.
And then he broke the window.
Dean leaned closer. "What the hell is he doing?"
The video showed Sam hotwiring the car and driving off into the dark.
"This was early morning," Henry said. "Before sunrise."
Dean stared at the screen. "He stole a car?"
"It rules out kidnapping," Henry replied. "He left on his own."
"Can you track where that car went?" Dean asked.
Henry hesitated slightly. The specs were already warming against his temples.
"It may take time," Henry said, as he couldn't continuously use the Ghost Hacker Specs.
Dean leaned back, restless. "Then try fast."
Henry raised a hand toward the waitress passing by. "Large coffee," he said. "Cold if you have it."
Dean shot him a look.
Henry adjusted the specs and focused back on the screen.
At the same time, in another room, Sam woke with a sharp breath.
His head hurt, but not enough to slow him. He tried to move and felt rope cutting into his wrists and ankles.
He was tied to a chair.
Sam looked around carefully. Plain room. One table. One lamp. No visible windows. The air felt closed in.
"Dean?" he called out.
No response.
He tested the ropes again, checking the knots carefully. They were tight and deliberate.
The door opened.
A woman stepped in and closed it behind her.
"You're awake, Sam," she said. "Did you miss me?"
Sam looked at her closely. She seemed familiar, but not enough.
"Who are you?" he asked.
She smiled faintly and stepped closer.
"You forgot already? After all that time we spent on the road? We even had a few sweet moments together."
Her eyes turned black.
Sam's expression changed.
"Meg."