Don't look outside, there's robot cars

[startredder]

I told Meg I'd do this, and as I have to leave to write an exam shortly after having got maybe six hours of sleep, I am in the prime condition to make good on really stupid things I promised to do.

So! Fic-type thingies request is now open!
I think anyone who would a) request something and b) have their request actually acknowledged instead of being

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[startredder]

"So did Dad explain why we had to go to Japan?"

"Nope," said Dean grumpily, kicking at their rental car. It was shiny. Clean. Soulless. Devoid of character or his tape collection. "Just 'Go to Japan'."

"Maybe he's here. Maybe the demon who killed Mom and Jess is here," said Sam, but he didn't sound certain.

"Maybe it really likes authentic sushi," said Dean, rolling his eyes. "If it was that, he wouldn't want us following him. He and that bad ass demon are probably in Toledo or somethin'. Far away as can be."

"I wish he could have given us some kind of hint, though. It's not like we can just pick up a newspaper and look for something. What's he expect us to do, just wander around the country until a demon jumps out from behind a bush and attacks us?"

"He knows what he's doing. Whatever we're here for, it'll come to us if we're patient. Give it time. We aren't going to be stuck here forever looking for something that doesn't exist," said Dean, leaning against the rental car, and muttered under his breath.

"Huh?"

"Nothin'," said Dean, staring across the street. He took the EMF detector out of his pocket and flicked it on.

"Oh, now that's just pointless," said Sam. "I get that you want to believe in Dad, Dean, I really do, but this is just insane. I mean, what are the odds --"

"Found somethin'," said Dean, the detector squealing gently. "That house over there, I think."

Sam stared silently for a minute. "You're just amazing, you know that?"

"That's what the girls tell me," said Dean with a grin. "C'mon, let's hop to it! The sooner we find this thing, the sooner we can get back to the good ol' US of A."

"So, what, we're just going to go over, knock on the door, hope the person inside and speak English and say - what, exactly? 'Hello, we're travelling salesmen from America, would you like to buy some encyclopaedias?'" Sam said, snorting.

"I was thinkin' we could just bypass that problem entirely," said Dean as they approached the house, the detector growing increasingly agitated. He pointed upwards, drawing Sam's attention to an open window. "That's an invitation if I ever saw one, Sammy."

Several minutes of attempted unobtrusive scrambling later, and they were through the window and standing in an empty bedroom. The detector was going nuts.

"I don't see anything," said Sam. "Looks like a normal bedroom to me. Probably belongs to a teenager or something. It's got that feel to it. And that smell," he added, nudging over a pile of dirty clothing and grimacing.

"Well, there's gotta be something here," said Dean. He set about restlessly prowling through the room, finding nothing more terrifying than an empty noodle cup, when Sam said "Hey, check this out."

On the floor was a heavy wooden board of some kind, or maybe a table. It had legs and the top of it had a symmetrical grid of indented lines forming a pattern of squares. Sam spread a hand over it. "Blood."

Dean cocked his head to one side, looking from Sam to the detector and back again. "This thing's definitely going screwy. There must be something around here. Maybe someone got beaten to death with that thing. Vengeful spirit, maybe."

They waited.

Nothing happened.

"Maybe it's not home," said Sam, his brow furrowed.

"Naw, it's here alright. This thing doesn't lie."

"I'm not seeing any sign of any recent struggle. Hard to tell in here, but I don't think anything's happened. And this blood is really old. Nothing more than discolouration, really."

"You sense anything, Miss Cleo?"

Sam rolled his eyes. But there Was something. "I don't think it's malevolent, Dean," he said, hesitantly.

"So you do sense somethin'."

"Nothing very concrete. I'm getting something about, um," Sam tried to concentrate, "hands ... pebbles ... funny hats ..."

Dean stared.

"That's all."

"You're shitting me."

Sam shook his head, wordlessly staring at the board in front of him.

(cntd!)