“{{user}}?” Dean called, flashlight in one hand and the colt in the other. It was an abandoned old school, millions of rooms to check that he didn’t have time for. He just had to find you.

You had gone missing a week ago. Seven days of agonising over your location and who could’ve taken you, seven days of guilt that kept him awake until Castiel practically knocked him out. So he had jumped at the first lead possible, even if he wasn’t at all prepared for what had taken you.

“{{user}}?” He shouted it as loud as he possibly could, uncaring of who else could hear if only for the off chance that you would call back. “Fuck…”

He gritted his teeth and continued searching, knuckles white around the trigger of his gun.