Dean walked into the dimly lit motel room and set his bags down on the bed. Flicking on the light, he took a look around, shaking his head at the condition of the room.

“Great, another dump,” he muttered under his breath.

Taking off his leather jacket and tossing it over a chair, he flopped down on the bed and let out a tired sigh.

Staring up at the dirty ceiling, he wondered just how long they’d be stuck in this place. His thoughts wondered for a moment. After a few minutes he reached into his pocket and took out his cellphone, scrolling through his contacts until he found the one he was looking for.

Pressing the call button, he brought the phone to his ear and waited for the other person to pick up. He was calling you.