"Hey, you're a hunter, Kota." He soothes her, placing his hand firmly on her shoulder.
She takes a deep breath to calm herself. "I don't know if I can do this, dad." She whimpers, clutching onto his hand tightly.
"You're a hunter, aren't you?" He...
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"Every long separation is a test: A test to see how
powerful or how weak the will of reuniting is!" -Mehmet Murat ildan
<< Reunited? >>
Dakota walks into the bunker, letting the door slam behind her. Sam glances over at her and gives a brief wave.
"Hiya, Sammy." She greets.
"Patience, hey." Dean says into the phone, walking in the war room. "This is, uh, Dean Winchester. Listen, I know that I, uh, told you to avoid his life, but, uh...me and my family, we're--we're looking for someone. And we put an APB out with every hunter we know, and...nothin'. We really could us a psychic's help on this. So...if you could call me back. Thanks." He hangs up the phone.
Dakota, by the time he finished his phone call, was already sitting next to Sam. They exchange quick glances before raising their eyebrows at Dean.
"Any word from Cas?" Dean asks before the other two could get a word in. Dakota perks up and turns to Sam.
"Yeah. Uh, he says he's still looking for Jack, working a lead in Tucson."
Dean's phone starts ringing, breaking their conversation up. He shows Sam and Dakota the caller ID that reads Jody Mills. Sam hums in acknowledgement.
"Hi, Jody." Dean greets while putting the phone on speaker.
"Hey, mama."
"Hi, Jody. What's going on?" Dakota and Sam speak over each other.
"Hey, boys, Kota. I got something for ya." Jody tells them. "Friend of mine from Bismarck PD called with a lead. He said that a local artist was found dead with his eyes burned out."
"Sounds angel-ly." Dean says.
"It's not Jack." Dakota denies quickly. "It's not."
"That's what I thought except for that there was a witness--the victim's girlfriend. She pegged someone at the scene. She gave the police a description. I think it's your boy." Jody explains.
The Winchesters exchange looks. Dakota scoffs at her family.
"It's not him." Dakota stresses, tugging on the ends of her hair. "It's not Jack. It can't be Jack, dad."
Dakota crosses her arms over her chest, leaning back in her chair, and staring at her dad with a challenging look.
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