Lost Souls
Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
Worried that the crash had done some serious damage to Sam's brain, Dean gave him a shifty glance. Sighing heavily, he leant back in his seat and thought of his beloved impala, recalling how he had traveled back in time and prompted John to buy it, thanks to Cas and his time manipulation. Jolting out of his reverie, Dean gave Bobby a what-the-fuck look as he turned into a side street and pulled over. This wasn't where Sam had directed him to go.
Curling up his lip, Bobby shook his head and stepped out of the truck, slamming the door behind him then strolled out on to the main street. He scanned the windows and paving making sure that he wasn't being followed and headed along it. Ah, this was what he wanted. He pushed the door inwards and stepped over the threshold.
The shop was packed with customers looking for a bargain as the summer sale was in full swing. He could see people being jostled left, right and centre as they tried to claim the last of the bargains. Perched on the doorstep, he skimmed the shelves and racks before making a beeline for the jeans section. Extending his hand, he grabbed a couple pairs of jeans and a couple v-neck tops that hung above. He swiveled his head around, searching for one more garment. Spotting what he was after he ambled across, squished his stomach in and maneuvered through the hoards then stooped over and stretched out his hand towards the two brown pairs of cowboy boots that shone up at him. His fingers grasped the top as another hand reached forward and grabbed them. Grunting, he straightened up, ready to give the customer an ear bashing on consumer etiquette but as his eyes locked on the customer's his mouth gaped open and he bared his teeth.
"Hello Cupcake!"
Bobby gripped his gun as his eyes darted around the shop floor. "Crowley!" he snarled, pulling the boots from his demonic fingers.
"You're not still sore about the kiss?" Crowley chirped, his Scottish accent kissing each word as it rolled off his tongue.
Bobby shifted uncomfortably beside him and looked down. As a young cashier that looked no more than sixteen sang out, "Next," he turned and walked towards the counter.
Youth training, I hope she knows what she's doing, Bobby thought as he swiftly placed the garments on the top and pulled out the wallet from his back pocket. The green glinted out the top as he pulled the flap forward and withdrew several notes. The cashier rang the items through, bagged them up and pressed the total button on the register. She smiled across, ready to give him the total but before she could say anything, he handed her the money.
Crowley grabbed Bobby's arm. "Tell Cas they are mine," he said and with that he turned and walked off without a backwards glance, leaving Bobby dumbfounded.
Bobby stood staring after him, collecting his thoughts as the young cashier cleared her throat. With a weak smile he looked up and headed for the door, pausing only for a moment to check that the way was clear before stepping out and headed back to the truck. "Here!" He threw the bags in at the boys and turned his back as the gowns were discarded leaving them naked on the front seat. When the boys were fully dressed he climbed in, put the truck into gear and drove off, following the directions Sam had given him earlier.
Sam bolted upright. He had spotted the old motel up ahead on the left hand side of the road as Bobby sped along. "Stop!" he spat out, barely recognizing his own voice.