Chapter Text
Dean decided to stop for the night, it had been a solid drive to Baltimore from their last hunt in Maine and he was beat. The ten hours had been quiet, Dean driving solo for once since Sam had decided to stay with Elaine up in Maine for a small couple’s getaway. Dean rolled his eyes as he climbed out of the Impala, they deserved it, even if Elaine was way too good for Sammy. Dean stretched as he eyed the flickering motel sign. The red vacancy light slowly losing its battle in the waning light. Dean grabbed his duffle bag and ambled into the lobby, an easy smile on his face as he booked a room for the night. The two beds that greeted him were a habit he never bothered to break, not after so long. He tossed the duffle onto the bed closest the door and promptly flopped down on the other.
It had been a grueling hunt. Even with Elaine and Cas being there, the hunt kicked his ass. The town had been overrun with witches. The real nasty kind. The harvesting human organs and ritual sacrificing kind. Dean had caught the head bitch chowing down on some poor guy’s heart, a kid tied up in the corner, terrified but alive. Dean didn’t know what the ritual was; Sam had spouted off something about ancient forbidden Celtic practices, but Dean had tuned him out. His job was clear and simple by that point. Not that it stopped the coven from fighting back. Dean’s knee and shoulder did not appreciate the fight they put up. Dean groaned into the mattress. Even after Cas healed him, Dean would swear he felt a dull throb throughout his body. It never seemed to go away these days.
****
Red and blue flickered across Dean’s eyelids, jarring the hunter awake. Adrenaline coursed through Dean’s body as he slid out of the motel bed, gun in hand and peeked out the window, curtain barely moving. With a curse, Dean tore his eyes away from the scene. He couldn’t believe it; no way was his luck this bad. A quick look outside again and Dean realized all the commotion wasn’t for him. The cops were milling around too much, and Dean caught sight of a forensics unit pulling in next to the ambulance. Dean scrubbed a hand down his face, unfortunately his Baby was blocked in by the multiple cruisers and unmarked SUVs. Dean paused and swore again. The feds were in those SUVs. Dean did not need to deal with the FBI. After all, he couldn’t remember if he was technically dead to them or not. Definitely best to avoid them after the whole fiasco with Lucifer and the President.
Dean sat back down on the bed, gun hanging limp between his knees as he listened to the muffled voices outside. It wasn’t long until footsteps could be heard coming down the hall. Doors were slowly opened as guests were questioned and told to remain calm. Dean slipped his gun back under the pillow just as knuckles rapped on his door. A quick scan of the room and Dean pulled the door open.
The man on the other side already had his badge raised and stern dark eyes trained on Dean. Standing behind the agent was another man in a sharp three-piece suit, eyes blank and assessing. Dean leaned against the door frame and gave both men a tired smile.
“Agent,” Dean nodded to the man flashing his badge.
“Jack Crawford,” the agent’s deep voice echoed down the hall, “sorry to disturb you so early.”
“Don’t worry about it Agent Crawford, the light show woke me up first,” Dean shrugged while Crawford tipped his head in acknowledgement.
“Yes, unfortunately this motel has now become an active crime scene and I’m going to have to ask you to vacate the premises for the time being,” Crawford’s eyes were barely apologetic as they swept the room behind Dean.
“That won’t be a problem agent,” Dean nodded with a smile, “but your boys in blue are going to have to move their cruisers, they’re blocking me in.”
“You can let them know yourself,” Crawford raised an eyebrow, “they’ll be around in ten minutes to escort you out.”
“That works too,” Dean smiled as Crawford and his unnamed, fancy companion stepped back and let Dean close the door.
Flipping the lock, Dean grabbed his duffle and pulled out a pair of jeans, t-shirt, and flannel before making his way to the bathroom. Ten minutes later, Dean was sitting on the edge of the bed, duffel in hand and gun tucked into the waistband of his jeans when the knock came. Keys in hand, Dean shrugged his jacket before he opened the door.
Dean paused in the threshold. It wasn’t some tired eyed cop standing on the other side. No cop could afford that suit, not unless he was crooked and in deep with the mafia. Sam’s voice chimed in Dean’s head that he was confusing reality with movies again, at least this time it wasn’t porn.
“Didn’t get your name,” Dean flashed a smile as he shut the door behind him.
“Doctor Hannibal Lecter,” the smooth, cultured voice was accented from somewhere Dean couldn’t place.
“Where’d the FBI dig you up?” Dean eyed the doctor as they made their way down the hall.
“I am a consultant, Mister –,” Lecter patiently paused as they made their way to the exit.
“Mills, Bobby Mills,” Dean gave the name he gave the front desk.
“Mister Mills,” Lecter nodded, and Dean hasn’t seen so much gravitas to a person’s actions since the first Horsemen he met.
The thought brought him up short, just as they exited the motel. Dean’s escort paused beside him, head lit up with the flashing colors of sirens and tilted towards Dean. Lecter’s eyes were dark as they crawled over Dean, his hunter instincts clamoring to the surface.
“Well Doc, thanks for the escort,” Dean held out a hand, silver ring glinting blue in the lights.
Doctor Lecter looked at Dean’s outstretched, calloused palm and after a moment fit his own smooth palm against the hunter’s. Dean’s shoulders relaxed a fraction when nothing happened as silver brushed skin. It still didn’t mean anything, but it ruled some things out. With a firm squeeze, Dean let go of the doctor’s hand. Dean moved past Lecter and for a moment he could have sworn the doctor leaned in and took a whiff. Dean glanced back, brow furrowed and met those dark eyes and impassive face. Dean’s eyes hardened as he turned back to the Impala.
“You aren’t wondering if you will get reimbursed?” the doctor’s voice called out as Dean was unlocking the Impala. Dean tossed his duffle in the back seat before turning back to the man.
“Nah Doc,” Dean smiled, “I don’t mind being out fifty bucks. I’m guessing the other guests haven’t been as good about it?”
“No, certainly not as understanding,” Lecter glanced between the Impala and Dean.
“Well Doc, I’m a stand-up guy and the motel has way more things to worry about,” Dean snorted as he gestured to the cops milling about. One of the officers thankfully realized Dean was blocked in and promptly got in the cruiser to move it. Dean nodded his thanks.
“You are not even remotely interested in what happened?” Lecter’s voice was light, curious as Dean’s eyes drifted over the parking lot.
“Sure, I am,” Dean’s gaze landed back on the doctor and let the silence sit.
“But not curious enough to stay and wait for the gossip,” Lecter said.
“I’m just passing through Doc,” Dean smiled as he opened the driver’s side door, “this gossip doesn’t have anything to do with me.”
Dean’s Baby rumbled to life as the door slammed shut. Dean looked out the passenger window to find dark eyes still on him. With a final nod in the doctor’s direction, Dean pulled out of the parking lot and drove off in search of some coffee.