Sam sat on the edge of the bed. It'd been fifteen minutes since Dad left to get dinner, leaving Sam with Dean's voicemail. According to Dad, he wanted to see if Sam caught something he missed. Sam had run it through every system he knew, but he couldn't find anything on the audio except what Dean said flat out.

Sam clicked the button, making the audio play again.

"Hey Dad, this is Dean. I, uh, don't think this is a voodoo problem. I keep finding sulfur. It was at the crime scene and the victim's house. I don't know what would use that. I'm looking into it, but I was hoping you would know something on it. It's been a long day so far. It's weird – I could have sworn I saw a guy earlier with black eyes. Like, fully black. Any idea what that could be about? It could be unrelated. The guy was at a distance so I could have seen him wrong. This just doesn't seem like a voodoo case. Call me when you get a chance."

The phone beeped as the voicemail ended. Sam shook his head.

Sam didn't blame Dad. Dad was on a case and didn't have cell reception when Dean called. He understood why Dad hadn't answered, but if he had this could have been avoided.

Sam sighed. He clicked play on the next voicemail.

"Dad, we have a problem. This definitely isn't voodoo. That guy with the black eyes I was telling you about? He thought I was you. You know anything about this? I was able to get away but this guy…this isn't our normal gig. I don't know what he is. I'm back at the motel. Call me."

The phone beeped again and Sam shut the phone. He wasn't getting anywhere with this.

Everything Dean said, he and Dad already knew. At least Dean mentioned he'd gone to the victim's house. That gave him and Dad a place to start.

Sam loosened his tie once he got back to the motel.

The family of the victim, Thomas Lout, hadn't known much – or at least if they did, they weren't sharing. According to them, Lout didn't have any enemies and hadn't shown any signs of stress leading up to his organs exploding. That was probably stressful.

After they'd talked to the family, he'd told his Dad that he would go back to the room and see if he could find anything on the internet. Dad preferred to do it the old fashion way. Dad went out to talk to more people, see if anyone had seen anything.

The family's story was the same as most of the stories Sam had heard while hunting. After people died, no one wanted to talk about their drama anymore. According to most of the families and friends, the victim had been loved by everyone. That wasn't ever true.

The only thing they got out of the house call was Dad found sulfur on the window sill while Sam talked to the family. They'd run the normal routine. Dad search the house as discreetly as possible while Sam talked with the family and attempted to keep them distracted from Dad.

It was simple, but it worked.

Sulfur, like Dean said. According to Dad, demons left it behind. That pretty effectively ruled out voodoo.

Sam took his computer out, and set it up on the only table in the room.

The guy that was killed didn't seem remarkable. According to Dad, the guy was probably killed just because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. The demons just needed a story big and weird enough to get John here, but they got Dean instead.

Sam turned his attention to his computer. He checked all of the tabs he'd left out.

There hadn't been any hits from the nearby police on a siting of Dean in any of the surrounding counties.

Sam checked another website as his phone started ringing. Sam answered it and held the phone to his ear with his shoulder while continuing to check the tabs he had up for any sign of Dean.

"Yeah?" Sam asked, scanning the page.

"Hey, Sammy."

Sam dropped the phone before scrambling to pick it up again.


"I need your help Sam." Dean sounded out of breath.

"Dean, where are you?"

"I'm on a case in New Orleans."

"Yeah, I know that part." Sam balanced the phone between his ear and shoulder again and pulled up the phone tracking website he'd been trying to find Dean with. Every time he'd tried so far Dean's phone hadn't been turned on. "Dad and I have been looking for you. Where are you? Do you have an address?"

"You and Dad?"

"Focus, Dean. Address?"

Judging by the speed by which Dad was back at the motel, Sam doubted he had abided by traffic laws. Dad leaned across the console and threw the passenger door of the truck open.

Sam ran for the truck and jumped in, narrowly keeping his head from hitting the top of the truck. Dad had started driving again before Sam had his door fully shut.

"Directions, Sam. Which way do I turn?"

Sam pulled the map out of the glovebox and nearly tore it in his rush.

"Left," Sam said. He'd marked the spot where Dean's phone was before he left the hotel. He hadn't been able to get Dean to give him an address before Dean had stopped replying, phone still on.

Sam had called Dad on the hotel phone so that he wouldn't have to hang up on Dean. He just hoped Dean would stay where he was long enough for them to find him.

Dad was focused on the road, the speedometer inching higher and higher.

"Turn right on the next street."

Dad barely slowed down for the turn.

"How far are we?"

"Five minutes out."

Dad turned his attention from the road for a split second to direct Sam's attention to the duffel bag between them.

"The bag has four bottles of holy water. I'll take two, you take two. When we find Dean, get back to the truck. And be sure to make sure he isn't possessed. Throw the water on him and see if he reacts."

"How would he react if he is possessed?"

"You'll know."

Sam didn't like the vagueness of the answer, but, for once, he wasn't in the mood to argue.

"Take the next right."

Sam turned his attention to the bag and started taking out the holy water. He decided to just carry his, and let Dad have the bag.

"That place on the left," Sam said, pointing it out.

Dad pulled into the parking lot. There were only a few cars. Sam counted seven.

It was a church.

The map didn't have it listed so Sam assumed it was new.

"You go around the back, I'll take the front," Dad said.

Sam nodded and stepped out of the truck.