Dean missed hunting more than he missed...anything else that they had going on. He had his hands full, that was true or he just sort of imagined he did. Most of the time he still hunted, he just attempted to find the jobs with less stress than what he had to work with. Especially after the fact that jobs trickled down the grapevine slower than anything he personally had to deal with. He figured after Hell was sealed back up and his psychopathic brother wasn't going around bringing forth the end of the world. There was no end of the world. There was only this. Dean mostly drove around, taking odd jobs and mostly spending the off night fucking around with Jack Spencer. Something he actually found that he did enjoy most of the time. When he wasn't just hopping into bed with a couple bitches. It always did seem to happen. Now more often after Jack had ditched him a couple months back. Now it was more and more hunts more than anything else. Demons were hiding deeper into the world but they had their desires and the things that pushed them forward. It would only take a while for one of them to slip. By a while, it was months. It usually took...months.
He was sort of hoping that he could find a better method of tracking them down but it was to little success when he tried by himself. Dean ran his hand down his face, tucking his hands into his pockets as he peered around the corner. A smirk tugging on his lips as he eyed the little hacker girl that he'd been...looking for. Or just spying on.
Dean stepped out into the hallway still seeming a little worse for wear as he walked over to her just as she was unlocking her door. The hunter putting a gun to her back and pursing his lips together. "Tsk, tsk, tsk. You'd think you'd learn something after what happened, Vicki." He smirked, darkly almost. It was a mere miracle that he wasn't carrying around a bottle of alcohol and acting like a complete drunk after what had happened at the end. Now he was merely expecting himself to keel over and die. A sort of panic always rose inside him when he got a glimpse of the fact that he was still a wanted man. That he was still a not so liked man or the fact that he was sure there was some hunters that wanted to kick his ass. He sighed, running his hand down his face before tucking the weapon away. At the very least, he was feeling more or less better now. He abandoned the idea of food poisoning for something he was more or less getting over with just some club soda and a hell of a lot of food before he pushed past Vicki into her apartment, shrugging off his jacket. "At least you seemed to make out like a bandit. Doing better than what I've seen most people end up with." He was sure he found a hunt who was some hunter who ended up in an asylum.