A warm meal. He's still talking like vampires are real, which is insane. But it's not, is it? Because Spencer's just seen men who took bullets like it was nothing and had mouths full of fangs.
It's rare that he's speechless, but here he is, unable to think of a single thing to say. So he just nods, a sharp dip of his chin, and makes his way toward the rear of the house. He stops briefly to take his tie off and wrap it around his forearm as best he can, and resumes the search for a basement or attic. He's not having much luck, and that's when Winchester's voice rings out.
Spencer catches up, as quiet as he can make himself, and digs a flashlight out from his pocket. He's not usually the one clearing rooms, so he fumbles a bit to find that practiced stance of holding both gun and flashlight -- it doesn't escape his notice that Sam's got a military precise stance of his own, so precise that Morgan would probably weep in joy to behold it. John Winchester had done time in the Marines, and it had been suspected that he'd taught his sons a lot of what he knew. It's... strangely fascinating to see the proof in action.
What he's found is definitely something, though, so Spencer advances in first. The smell of blood is thick in the air, metallic and cloying, though there's very little to actually be found.
And there, chained to the wall in a corner, is Tara Kennedy, the latest missing victim. From a glance, Spencer can't even tell if she's alive. He holsters his gun long enough to check her pulse, which is slow and thready but there. He thinks about calling an ambulance, but he doesn't know if there's more unsubs in here -- the smarter move would be to call his team.
"I'm calling for backup. The average drive time between the hotel my team is at and here is ten minutes, so you've got ten minutes to explain to me what's happening and why you're here," Spencer says, still trying out his best Hotch impression. He stands, and starts searching the rest of the room. "And since you're claiming that those two are vampires, the explanation should probably be pretty convincing."
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It's rare that he's speechless, but here he is, unable to think of a single thing to say. So he just nods, a sharp dip of his chin, and makes his way toward the rear of the house. He stops briefly to take his tie off and wrap it around his forearm as best he can, and resumes the search for a basement or attic. He's not having much luck, and that's when Winchester's voice rings out.
Spencer catches up, as quiet as he can make himself, and digs a flashlight out from his pocket. He's not usually the one clearing rooms, so he fumbles a bit to find that practiced stance of holding both gun and flashlight -- it doesn't escape his notice that Sam's got a military precise stance of his own, so precise that Morgan would probably weep in joy to behold it. John Winchester had done time in the Marines, and it had been suspected that he'd taught his sons a lot of what he knew. It's... strangely fascinating to see the proof in action.
What he's found is definitely something, though, so Spencer advances in first. The smell of blood is thick in the air, metallic and cloying, though there's very little to actually be found.
And there, chained to the wall in a corner, is Tara Kennedy, the latest missing victim. From a glance, Spencer can't even tell if she's alive. He holsters his gun long enough to check her pulse, which is slow and thready but there. He thinks about calling an ambulance, but he doesn't know if there's more unsubs in here -- the smarter move would be to call his team.
"I'm calling for backup. The average drive time between the hotel my team is at and here is ten minutes, so you've got ten minutes to explain to me what's happening and why you're here," Spencer says, still trying out his best Hotch impression. He stands, and starts searching the rest of the room. "And since you're claiming that those two are vampires, the explanation should probably be pretty convincing."