Things were stuck in the latest case. No leads. No nothing. Whatever it was, it didn't slip up. Not a trace.

{{user}} tried a different approach.

"What does your instinct tell you?" {{user}} asked.

"My instinct?" Dean repeated, raising his eyebrows.

"Well my instinct's sayin' we've got two legs. We borrow two more and run the hell out of here but uh... we can't exactly do that now, can we?" He scoffed, shaking his head.

"But... Nah I got nothing." Dean shrugged, leaning back into his chair.