"I know she's there…", Dean said simply, dropping his head a bit as he clenched the phone in his fist, attempting not to sound too desperate to the man, "I…I don't know if you even knew she was gone or not, but…I need to ask her something. She's playing these games, man…"

He pulled his head up as a knock at the door caught his attention. He ignored the noise, and continued talking down the phone, "I'm leaving out today for a case…um…I mean a job in Minnesota. It's supposed to get pretty bad, and I just wanted to hear one word from her…"

He knew he sounded like a desperate bastard, but he didn't really care (nor would the headache in his head let him care). He glanced to the door as John walked through, managing to pick the lock skillfully. He stood with his hands on his hips, and no sign of humor on his face.