Hunters never had much time to just sit back and relax and forget the things that lived in the darkness existed. But when the chance came, they always took it. No matter what.

Making sure that there was no cases for them to take care of, Dean took {{user}} out of town. Somewhere he sometimes went on his own to clear his head and do something productive that wasn't decapitating things. Basically he still killed stuff but at least he wasn't worried about a life or death situation.

Dean pulled over on the side of the road and took out two fishing rods, handing one to {{user}}.

"Ever gone fishing?" He asked, walking towards the deck, expecting {{user}} to follow. He sat down on the edge, patting the spot next to him for {{user}} to sit.

"I could teach you. It's easier than handling a machete, I'll tell ya that." Dean scoffed, shaking his head.