Dean could hear his heart beating as he sat still in the front seat of his truck, clenching the wheel with both hands. His chin lay on the top of the wheel as he observed a gas station from afar. He was in need of two things, gas and a radio. Obviously the gas is a priority and would come first, but if he had time to spare he would search the station for a radio. The gas station was small, and he decided a solid 10 minutes would suffice, but remained seated. He did this everytime before a gathering, searching for the perfect moment to make his move, sometimes only waiting a minute, sometimes ten minutes, sometimes half an hour. There really wasn't a way to describe a perfect moment, it was just a feeling, like a sixth sense.

Dean's eyes remained completely focused on the gas station, as still as he was. After about 5 more minutes, he set a timer for 10 minutes on his watch and bolted out the truck, reaching in the back for: an empty gas can, metal baseball bat, empty backpack, flashlight and a single wooden spear. He walked with haste towards the gas tanks, which unfortunately had to be activated from the inside. He quickly attached the nozzle from the pump to the empty gas can, then looked up to determine the number of the gas tank. "3" he whispers silently to himself as he cautiously made his way to the doors of the gas station. The backpack and wooden spear were slung over his shoulder as he gripped the baseball bat in his right hand and the flashlight in the other. 

Slowly and silently as possible, Dean opened the door with his foot, shining the light into the gas station. Making an opening only enough for him to squeeze through, he made his way into the station, moving slowly as if stalking an animal in the forest. The first thing to do was make sure the station was empty, if he heard any unnatural noises he would leave immediately. This wasn't usually the case if someone was with him, but he was all alone. Checking the entire station took about a minute and thirty seconds, thankfully it was clear. Dean moved at a much faster pace but remained cautious. Hopping over the counter he searched for the button to allow gas through the tanks. "3" he whispers silently once more as he pressed a button labeled 3. "6 minutes" he whispered to himself after checking his watch.

Dean constantly looked around whilst pumping the gas, this part was always the worst to him when filling gas cans. He hated the waiting, it made him feel like an easy meal. When he finished, he checked his watch. "4 minutes" He whispered, and made his way back into the gas station. He opened the empty backpack and began to shove it with drinks, canned food, bread, etc, then made his way to the counter, grabbing some candy, cigarettes, cigars, and lighters. He didn't smoke, but had traded cigarettes and cigars in the past for food and shelter. Under the counter he spotted a box, and to his luck, it contained a radio. He felt somewhat happy. Well, happy was a strong word, more like accomplished. Examining it a bit he noticed it didn't have an antenna, he would have to craft one later. 

Suddenly the timer went off, Dean hastily grabbed all his belongings and ran out the front door and to the truck, picking up the gas can along the way. He threw everything in the back except for his baseball bat, jumped into the car, turned on the engine and slowly made his way onto a dirt road through the forest. After driving for about 5 miles Dean came to a stop, and sat still for about 5 minutes before exiting the truck to fill the tank with gas. He did so cautiously, again constantly looking around the immediate area. Once he finished he put the gas can in the back and pulled out two maps and a red marker. The first map was a standard travelers map of the United States, and the second was a custom one drawn by Dean. He put an X over the gas station on his custom map and began to add the forest and road he was currently traveling on. He looked to his traveling map, and it seemed he was on the outskirts of Chicago. "Almost home," he said to himself. Dean folded up the maps and put them in the side pocket of his jacket, which also contained a picture of his mother. Hopping back into the truck, he continued driving.