The minute that Dean went mention, anything else just... kind of ceased to matter to Sam. The most prominent, the most important thing was finding his sister, hunting down whoever took her. It was kind of difficult to do when he had zero to go on that made much sense. There had been disappearances over the years... usually one or two girls here and there. But there wasn't one specific area they disappeared from. It seemed like all over around the area though. They weren't taken fro one specific spot.
But what they did have in common that they were young, they were attractive.
And he really shouldn't have listened to Dean's insistence on doing the scouting alone, doing any work on this stupid fucking case alone.
But it was done and all Sam could do was keep pushing himself and work, find something, anything. His drive was doubled-- he slept the minimal he could, barely ate more than would keep up his strength because the rest of the time, he was interviewing the families of the other victims or digging up what he could at libraries or on the computers.
Any source he had at hand, he was using.
It was just by chance that he found a lead and some hope. Someone who'd seen someone who looked an awful lot like his sister after so long questioning everyone he could think of. They'd seen her being carried into some truck. From there, he managed to track the info he did have to some place out by itself, on its own expansive land, surrounded by trees, and far away from any prying eyes.
His stomach turned when he realized that they were humans. They were just humans. Humans who were twisted fucks that got off on doing God knows what to their victims. Yeah, next time he had a bad feeling about something, Dean was going to damn well listen to him.
All in all, they were humans and Sam had been trained to take on monsters and demons. He could definitely handle other people attacking him, especially with the thought of Dean suffering at their hands. Sam couldn't even handle the thought of her already being dead, of losing the last of his family, so he didn't let himself consider it as he searched the house, eventually making his way down into some dark, cold cellar.
He had his flashlight out, nursing some bruises and cuts from the earlier fight, a bullet grazing across his shoulder... but he was alive and the guys upstairs were in a hell of a lot worse shape than him. "Dean!" He called out, walking down the steps, voice frantic and rough from the earlier fight.
When he saw her, his stomach sunk. He rushed to her side, reaching out to take her face in his hands to try and get her to focus, look at him. "Dean... look at me. Please-- Dean," he murmured, tone anxious, pleading.
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But what they did have in common that they were young, they were attractive.
And he really shouldn't have listened to Dean's insistence on doing the scouting alone, doing any work on this stupid fucking case alone.
But it was done and all Sam could do was keep pushing himself and work, find something, anything. His drive was doubled-- he slept the minimal he could, barely ate more than would keep up his strength because the rest of the time, he was interviewing the families of the other victims or digging up what he could at libraries or on the computers.
Any source he had at hand, he was using.
It was just by chance that he found a lead and some hope. Someone who'd seen someone who looked an awful lot like his sister after so long questioning everyone he could think of. They'd seen her being carried into some truck. From there, he managed to track the info he did have to some place out by itself, on its own expansive land, surrounded by trees, and far away from any prying eyes.
His stomach turned when he realized that they were humans. They were just humans. Humans who were twisted fucks that got off on doing God knows what to their victims. Yeah, next time he had a bad feeling about something, Dean was going to damn well listen to him.
All in all, they were humans and Sam had been trained to take on monsters and demons. He could definitely handle other people attacking him, especially with the thought of Dean suffering at their hands. Sam couldn't even handle the thought of her already being dead, of losing the last of his family, so he didn't let himself consider it as he searched the house, eventually making his way down into some dark, cold cellar.
He had his flashlight out, nursing some bruises and cuts from the earlier fight, a bullet grazing across his shoulder... but he was alive and the guys upstairs were in a hell of a lot worse shape than him. "Dean!" He called out, walking down the steps, voice frantic and rough from the earlier fight.
When he saw her, his stomach sunk. He rushed to her side, reaching out to take her face in his hands to try and get her to focus, look at him. "Dean... look at me. Please-- Dean," he murmured, tone anxious, pleading.