Down the Rabbit Hole

Quiet Minds Part 1

Three weeks. Lacey felt like she had barely moved from her seat on the couch at Rufus's cabin, for three weeks. Three weeks since they had lost Bobby. Three, whole, freaking weeks. There were layers of numbness and excruciating pain inside her. Sam was always there if she wanted to cry. Dean was distant and she didn't feel like provoking an argument right now. So she sat. Her legs curled under her, staring off into space. Waiting for something to happen, for life to rear its ugly head and say, hey, over here, you guys, it's time for more pain. A bang brought her back to reality and she jumped a little as Sam put the duffle bags down on the table.
"Dean... you know... I wonder if we... I mean, should we be telling people? I mean, people he knew."
"How long ago did I give Frank these numbers? It's been a few weeks, right? What is he nuts, or is he just being rude?" Dean frowned at the board he had covered in research.
"Probably both. Dean, I've gotta ask you a question."
"Unless of course something happened to him. He can't get to the phone cos a Leviathan ate his face." Dean surmised.
"Yeah, also a possibility." Sam sighed.
"We Should go check on him." Dean went to grab his keys.
"Dean, do you want to call Bobby's people or not?"
"Why is that our job?"
"Because who else is gonna do it?" Sam asked, exasperated.
"I'm not calling anybody. If you want to, you go right ahead."
"I don't want to call anybody. You kidding me?" Sam balked. Lacey watched them, beginning to zone out when a vibration echoed from one of the bags. The three of them exchanged looks.
"Well, I'm not getting it." Dean told them, turning back to his board. Sam rifled through the duffel bag until he found the phone.
"Hello?" Sam paused to listen to the person on the other end. "Uh, no. He's... it's not... but I'm a friend of his." He paused again. "He's not here... but look if you need.." He glanced at the phone before hanging up.
"Who was it?" Dean asked.
"Just some kid."
"For Bobby? Girl scout cookies?" Dean joked.
"I think maybe... a hunters kid? I mean, she sounded pretty scared. You know, I have a called ID. Maybe we should go find her. We can check on her."
"What about Frank?"
"Well, Dean, I think we should go find this girl first." Sam reasoned.
"Sam, Frank's been working on the numbers that Bobby spent his last breath on, and you want to back burner that?" Sam glared at Dean. "Fine you go check out girl scout, I'll find Frank."
"Fine, but you know what? One condition, if Frank is just spinning his wheels, you bail out on crazy and come meet me." Dean nodded his ascent and went to take a sip of his beer before realising it was empty.
"And thanks for drinking my entire beer." Sam frowned at him.
"I didn't touch your beer. Mine's right there. You probably drank it without noticing."
"Right." Dean didn't look convinced. Lacey got gingerly to her feet.
"I'll get ready, you want to head to Frank's straight away?" Dean looked up.
"You're coming?" Lacey stared at him.
"What else would I be doing?"
"I dunno, you might have wanted to go with Sam."
"I always go with you. Besides I'm no use in a fight right now, so Franks seems like the better option." Lacey shrugged before heading to the bedroom to get changed.

A few hours later Dean pulled the Dodge up outside Franks house. The two of them got out and headed to the front door. Dean tried it and it opened with a creak, their gazes met and Dean pulled out his gun before walking inside, Lacey following behind.
"This can't be good." Dean muttered as they made their way through the empty house. There was a noise behind them and they span around to find Frank pointing a shotgun at them. "And you thought you'd be safer here." Dean shook his head. "Well, hi. Frank we're amongst friends here. Okay, acquaintances."
"That's just what a Leviathan would say." Frank snapped back.
"Frank, we are not Leviathan."
"Oh sure, you're not a Leviathan, Dick Roman's not a Leviathan, Gwyneth Paltrow is not a Leviathan."
"No! Pepper Potts?!" Lacey gasped.
"Trust me." Frank nodded at her.
"Okay, you know what, Frank? I think you've been doing a little too much research." Dean frowned.
"They're anywhere, anyone. Who's to say this isn't the day they come for old frank who knew too much?" Dean made a decision.
"They bleed black goo, right? Want to see what I bleed?" Frank pointed his shotgun at Dean.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Let's take the guns out of it, okay?"
"Okay." Frank shrugged. Lacey's eyes widened as Dean pulled a switchblade out of his jacket pocket. He put his gun down on the table and rolled up his sleeve before making a shallow cut into his forearm.
"See, red-blooded American." He wiped the knife on his sleeve before holding it out to Frank.
"There are two of you." Frank pointed out. Lacey grimaced and held out her arm to Dean, screwing her face up and shutting her eyes. Dean made a small cut on her arm, Lacey winced slightly as blood began to trickle down her arm. She pulled away and grabbed a tissue from her bag to hold over the cut. Once again Dean held out the knife to Frank.
"Now...your turn."
"Oh, whoa! Look, I'm obviously not..." Frank protested.
"Fair's fair, douchebag." Frank sighed and took the knife, making a cut in his palm.
"Yeah." Dean took the knife back, cleaning it again. "I'm glad we could all share that together."
"Grab your gun, come with me. For gods sake don't make any noise."