Live And Let Die

                                    

                                          


                          
 [Dean]
                          
In the midst of tragedy, life supposedly moves on. Mine stood still.
                          
After swinging by the motel to check out and grab our stuff, I then drove all night like a madman to Bobby Singer's house — my only goal: to try and find my brother and Rayne.
                          
I tried calling them both multiple times, but both their cellphones kept going straight to voicemail. After the tenth futile attempt, I chucked my phone onto the passenger seat and swore colorfully. Just when I thought we'd made headway, the rug got pulled out from right under our feet again. Story of my damn life. I hit the heel of my palm against the top of the steering wheel in frustration. 
                          
It was Azazel's work. It had to be. He must have somehow found out that we got the blade, and so he snatched Rayne up ahead of time. But what I couldn't figure out is why he also took Sam. He visited them both when they turned six months old...so maybe he had some kind of plans for Sam as well. Didn't Ray mention once that he called them his "Special Children"?
                          
My jaw hurt from clenching it so tightly, and I had to shake out my hands every once in a while because they unconsciously gripped the steering wheel tighter and tighter with each mile that I passed. I didn't even have the radio on; I was too busy trying to form a plan in my head. The only way I was going to lose Sam and Rayne to Azazel was over my dead body.
                          
[Sam]
                          
I'd been wandering around the ghost town for a while now, trying to get my bearings. My cellphone had no reception, and there was nothing in any of the abandoned houses to indicate where I was. One minute I was standing in the convenience store talking to Rayne, and the next I was waking up in the middle of nowhere. I only remembered one thing before being whisked out of the store, and that was smelling sulfur.
                          
What worried me most, however, was that Rayne might have ended up in the same place as me. I refrained from calling out her name just in case something...or someone unwanted was traversing the same grounds. I had no weapons on me — not even salt. It was better to not draw any attention to myself. I had a feeling that whatever brought us here wasn't friendly.
                          
[Dean]
                          
"You look like hell."
                          
I semi-glared at the old man before me. "I've been driving non-stop all night, Bobby. You try doing that and then we'll see just how pretty you look."
                          
He opened the door wider. "Well, come on in then. We have lots of work to do."
                          
"Have you been able to find anything?" I asked as I made my way into his study and chucked the duffel bag with the blade in it onto the couch.
                          
Bobby came in a moment later with two bottles of beer and handed me one. "I think I might know a way to find out where they are. It's a long shot..."
                          
"But it's the only one we have," I finished gruffly with a sharp nod of my head. "Yeah, I know. All right, let's get started."
                          
Bobby walked around the desk to sit in his chair and pulled out some old books from the bottom drawer. He dropped them onto the table with a heavy thud and a cloud of dust wafted up around them. "You said on the phone that the angel guy...what's his came? Castiel? You said he gave you guys a blade...or a dagger or somethin' that was designed to kill Yellow-Eyes?"
                          
"Blade, dagger...whatever it is; it's supposed to get the job done," I said. "So we have to figure out where the hell he took Sam and Rayne and then somehow get it to her."