John had been spending some quality time with his truck. She really needed a tune up, restock, and cleaning. So that was how he spent his day. He knew sooner or later he'd have to contact Bobby, and he would. But now he was just dealing with enough as it was. Things were strange and overwhelming. He longed for the day when there would be less on his plate, though at this point in time he was uncertain it would ever come.
Dean was angry and hurt, he and Sammy barely spoke a word, and Adam wanted to go visit his house as soon as he possibly could. John hadn't seen that house for some time, so he'd volunteered to take him. Apparently Sam was coming along. It was going to be a long car ride. He'd already mapped it out. It'd take them a good eight hours, and if both boys spent the time in silence or on awkward levels, then who knew how much longer it'd feel. He'd also have to restock his tapes. He gave Dean most of his for the Impala when he passed it down, and his own were worn from sun damage where the truck had been sitting since he made his deal and traded his life for Dean's.
He had been dead. There was little time to cope with it. He'd had a very short time to adjust, infact. Everything was being thrown at him a million miles per hour. He hadn't even had time to react to the fact that he was alive again and breathing, and Mary was by his side. John took a short break from giving his truck a bath after he washed the suds with a clean bucket of water outside the complex. He'd spent most of the day on his own. Just needing some space and a breather from it all. He didn't bother with the boards, or with the drama, he just needed some time away.
John heard something chime, but at first ignored it. It was probably someone near by. There had been all kinds of people coming in and out of the complex at all different hours, one of them probably had a phone call, or a weird device of some kind making a noise. But he looked around and it was only him and his truck.
bing bing He heard from the drivers seat as he approached it in curiosity and opened the door. There was nothing there. bing His hand slid between the seat where his change usually fell, and he found the item in question. His cell phone was still in service. How did that even make sense?
Not much had the last few weeks, so he looked at the caller I.D. on the outside and raised a brow. Not a number he recognized, but a Lawrence area code. He picked it up, but said nothing.