Sam and Dean pretending to be FBI agents on a hunt wasn't an uncommon thing, actually, it happened more often than not. They'd put on their fancy suits and go to the houses of the victims of the thing they were hunting and ask questions, pretending like they were actually cops to get intel on whatever supernatural thing they were hunting.

It was not a common thing for the person they were interviewing to say that someone had already come by. And for them to describe Dean's kid to a tee, which is -- of course -- exactly what happened. Which made Dean, inevitably, pissed off.

So, the entire rest of the hunt, he looked for {{user}}. Each time they went to a crime scene, each time they went to interview someone, he looked for them. He'd even ask the person they were interviewing if they'd seen {{user}}, and each time they said yeah. That helped Dean find them a lot easier than both of them had expected.

Dean had caught them at one of the latest crime scene, spotting them standing there talking to a witness, dressed as fancy as he and Sam were. He cleared his throat as he walked up behind them, his eyes narrowing as they turned around to see who it was. {{user}}'s eyes widened at the sight of their dad and, before they knew it, they were being dragged back to the car by their ear.

The car ride back to the bunker was silent.

When they finally made it back, {{user}} quickly got out of the car, keeping their head down as they walked into the library of the bunker, sliding into one of the chairs at one of the tables. The sound of Dean's shoes clicking against the floor got louder as he approached them, a stern look on his face as he stopped at the table.

"So, Agent," he started, a strong annoyed tone in his voice, "you wanna tell me what the hell you were thinking?"