Hunters for Life (a Dean Winchester Love Story)

*Dean's POV*

I jab at the radio, trying to find the stupid button that ejects the cassette tape. As much as I love AC/DC, I'm too on edge to listen to anything right now. The sound of the road beneath my baby's wheels is enough. I still have 200 miles to go, and I'm exhausted. I started driving at 3AM and I don't plan on stopping until I reach California.

*SEVERAL HOURS EARLIER-AT 2:45 AM-GIVE OR TAKE, LIKE, TWO MINUTES TO MAKE IT MORE REALISTIC*

Dean was sleeping for once. Even in his sleep, he was wary without Sam there, no matter how sure he was that Kristy was watching over him. He wasn't used to having a guardian angel (or half angel, as it were) and he certainly wasn't about to let his guard down no matter how much he trusted Kris.

He'd been dreaming about fishing again. There had been a cold one in his hand, the rod in the other. The water had been mirror still and the sun had been low in the sky. No monsters. No lonliness. In fact, he hadn't even been alone in the dream. A girl had been sitting beside him, tanning. Her face was one he hadn't seen in almost a year: Veronica.

He'd been about to say something to her, some comment about there being no fish, when a loud ringing had cut him off. Surprised, he opened his mouth to speak again, and was once more drowned out by the ringing. Then it only took him a moment to realize that it was just a dream and it was his phone going off.

He clawed his way to the surface of consciousness again. It sort of reminded him of when he dug his way out of the grave after Hell.

When he opened his eyes, he was staring at deteriorating plaster, speckled with mold, on the ceiling of his motel room. He'd run his hand down his face, helping himself wake up, and turned over. His phone was lit up, buzzing on the nightstand by the alarm clock. The name on the caller ID said 'Veronica'.

"Veronica?" he asked gruffly after pressing the 'accept' button.

"Is this Dean Winchester?'" a thin, panicked voice answered.

Dean sat up, all traces of sleep gone in the instant he heard his name. The voice was foreign and male. Definitely not the smooth alto of Veronica.

"Who's asking?" he replied.

"I'm her cousin, Jayden," was the reply.

Dean was, for once, stunned into silence.

"Listen, you have to help me. She's been taken by demons and I can't get her alone."

His mind kicked it into gear, and he was running on instinct. Get up. Get pants. Get keys. Get pants. Get gun. Wear's my pants?

"Where are you?" Dean asked, the phone still pressed to his ear.

"Bodega, California," was the immediate answer.

"Alright, hang tight. I'll call back when I get there."

Pants on, keys and bags in hand, gun in waitband, Dean was out the door, in the Impala, and on the road in a matter of minutes.

I finally see the welcome sign to Bodega just as the sun is coming up. I grab my phone and call Jayden back.

"Where are you?" I ask as soon as I hear him pick up.

"I'm at the Harbor Motel on Clear Water."

It takes me a total of ten minutes to find the damn motel. As soon as I pull into the lot, I see some kid jogging towards me. I grab my gun in case it's a demon.

"I'm Jayden," he says immediately, putting his hands up to show he doesn't have weapons.

I take the flask of holy water and sprinkle him with it. When nothing happens I nod.