Well then...

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Sam and Castiel were laying on seperate beds in the motel room they had checked into a few days before. Like Sam had thought, they stayed around the same town and didn't go all the way back to the bunker. He told Cas after they'd driven far away from the fallen demon. Sam was working on his laptop looking for Dean on security camera footage, completely ignoring Castiel who was sitting on the bed across from Sam's. 

Every now and then Sam could see Cas glance his way out of the corner of his eye and he didn't turn to meet his gaze. It had become quite awkward between the two of them since the crossroad. Sam's unwillingness to believe that his brother could become a demon put a lovely, prickly thorn in between the two of them. They never mentioned what happened and were very polite with each other, not wanting to start anything or else one arguement would lead to another and they would end up speaking of what happened with the demon. Sam had his police radio out on the bed and was listening to it  while he worked, hoping he'd hear news of some strange deaths and that maybe, somehow, Dean was involved. He was beyond terrified that the demon at the crossroads had been telling the truth, but at this point, with Dean missing for a long two months, he just wanted to find Dean; human or not. 

"We've got a robbery in progress at the Gabriel's Liquor....suspect is a white male, dark blond hair.....approximately six feet tall,...." Sam heard the radio crackle. They had driven past the store on their way to the motel so Sam knew where it was, and it might have just been a lonely Sam missing his brother, but the description, though small, sounded like Dean. It wouldn't hurt just to go and see, to put his mind at rest. He looked over at Cas, who had the most uncomfortable, pained look on his face, and told him that he was going out for a drink and that he would be back later, and left.

It took only a short two minutes of speeding to get to the liquor store, Sam beat the cops there so he walked in the building. He heard the braking of glass bottles and looked around for the cause of the crashing. He heard a small, quiet voice pleading for someone to stop, and then the sound of someone being hit repeatedly. Sam came around an isle corner and saw a large man, almost the same height as himself, standing over a small man in a uniform that Sam concluded must work the cash register. The large man had beat the smaller one to the ground and continued hitting. Blood from the workers face started to speckle bottles on the isle he was next to and the man who was beating him. Sam yelled for the man to stop but the man kept on, he hit one last time, particularly hard, and the little man stopped moving. 

The large man backed off from the bleeding, dead man on the floor, and walked away. Sam rushed forward and tried to help the little man but after realizing that it was too late and that he could do nothing for him, Sam stood up and faced the killer. He was wearing worn out jeans, biker boots, and a black jacket. Since the man wouldn't face Sam, he couldn't see what he was wearing underneath the jacket, or what his face looked like. The man was looking at a shelf of relatively expensive scotch, he picked one up, looked at it, and took a long drink from it. It must have been good because he picked two more bottles up off the shelf and put them in a brown paper bag that the store supplied. Sam looked at the man thinking how he could walk off after killing someone. Sam felt like he should say something, ask why he killed the worker, but he couldn't think of the right words to use.

He figured that the long awated police would show up eventually however so Sam decided that he would just keep the man here for the cops. He had his gun too so he'd keep the murderer here at gun point if needed. Sam watched the man make a straight line for the door suddenly and pulled his gun out and pointed it at the mans back. The man must have heard the gun because he stopped walking and put his hands up. 

"You really don't want to do that." the man said.

Sam's eyes widened, he knew the rough voice that had spoken. "Dean?"

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