"Yeah, and you might want to tourniquet that in the meantime. Nothing hikes their adrenaline like a warm meal and you're still ringing the dinner bell." Sam sighs, doing some mental math in his head, recalling what he got from some of the witnesses, and how the information all played out. "There's a very real possibility one of 'em is a girl, maybe even a matriarchal type figure. So don't drop the guard."
Despite the unique circumstances, two heads remain better than one in a case like this, especially when it comes to vampires. Sam's gotten out of much more significant situations with the Federal Bureau of Investigation and it works out to his advantage that Dean's not here, because Dean wouldn't have been nice about it, Dean wouldn't have appealed to reason. He would've circled back and rendered Spencer unconscious, left him with a note on his lapel outside the place of whoever answered the text messages at his behest when he skimmed his phone.
This was better, and Sam continues, no creaky floorboards, no hollow walls at least not until he makes it around to the back of the house.
"Hey, uh, Doc?" Sam's got his flashlight brandished, the further back he gets in the house the darker it remains. He holds his gear in a practiced, militant way, the same way that Spencer might enter a place too, one wrist over the other, going room by room to clear them.
Closer to the back of the house there is a room, tarped off, windows blacked out and boarded over, it looks like it was supposed to juncture the California room and the garage but had been made it into a den or mancave with some quick effort from the local contractor. "Think I've got something over here."
accidentally dating someone he absolutely cannot tell jj or hotch about bc uh oh
Despite the unique circumstances, two heads remain better than one in a case like this, especially when it comes to vampires. Sam's gotten out of much more significant situations with the Federal Bureau of Investigation and it works out to his advantage that Dean's not here, because Dean wouldn't have been nice about it, Dean wouldn't have appealed to reason. He would've circled back and rendered Spencer unconscious, left him with a note on his lapel outside the place of whoever answered the text messages at his behest when he skimmed his phone.
This was better, and Sam continues, no creaky floorboards, no hollow walls at least not until he makes it around to the back of the house.
"Hey, uh, Doc?" Sam's got his flashlight brandished, the further back he gets in the house the darker it remains. He holds his gear in a practiced, militant way, the same way that Spencer might enter a place too, one wrist over the other, going room by room to clear them.
Closer to the back of the house there is a room, tarped off, windows blacked out and boarded over, it looks like it was supposed to juncture the California room and the garage but had been made it into a den or mancave with some quick effort from the local contractor. "Think I've got something over here."