Author's Note: This story takes place towards the end of season 8 of Supernatural, so it may contain spoilers. I want to thank my friend talknerdy2meh for helping me edit, write, and publish this story. You're awesome, bro. Check out her stories because she's pretty freaking awesome. Thanks for giving my fic a chance and feel free to leave any reviews.

Sam and Dean were back in the Impala from meeting the Scribe, Metatron, in Santa Fe, New Mexico back to their Bunker in Lebanon, Kansas. They had left in the early hours of the morning to try to get back in one long drive. Sam was sick and in pretty bad shape and the brothers just wanted to get back to relax and recover in the Bunker.

Sam immediately fell asleep once they started out and slept for about half the trip. When he woke up he didn't talk at all and just stared out the window, lost in his thoughts. Dean let him be, but got annoyed with Sam's dreary mood and decided to try to cheer him up a bit. He glanced at his brother who was leaned against the window and decided to take action.

He turned the radio on and started flipping through stations trying to find a good suit for the moment. He paused on a Top Hits station that was playing some Taylor Swift song and turned the volume up a few notches. Sam glanced over at Dean who hummed quietly to the song. Sam turned back to the window and tuned out the music.

Next, Dean found a station playing some mariachi music, upped the volume some more, and danced along. Sam shot Dean a confused glare and repositioned himself in the passenger seat.

Dean, seeing that his brother was still being disheartening, clicked through more stations, this time turning the volume up as a salute to Nat 'King' Cole's "L-O-V-E." He was going to need something more than just the radio to Sam get Sam to smile, so Dean started singing along.

"L is for the way you look at me," Dean sang, snapping his head towards his brother.

"O is for the only one I see," this time with a jab to Sammy's side.

"V is very, very extraordinary," Dean full out bellowed with a dramatic arm flourish that sent the car swerving.

"Dean, honestly?" Sam said over the music, "C'mon."

"E is even more than anyone that you adore can-"

Sam shook his head and clicked the radio off.

"Aw c'mon, Sammy. It's a classic!"

"Just don't. Please."

"Sorry, Sam. Just trying to lighten the mood," Dean explained. Just as Sam was turning back to the window one of his cell phones started ringing. He gave a short sigh and answered the phone.

Sam's tired face face cleared and was replaced with confusion, then worry. "But you're all right, Garth? Ok good. Sure thing. Bye," Sam hung up. "So that was Garth. Called to tell me he got jumped. By a demon."

"What? Who? Is he alright?"

"He didn't give a name but apparently this demon knows us. Garth said we "know him but have forgotten him" or something like that. He didn't hurt Garth just shook him up a bit. He's using Garth to get a message to us... That he's pissed and will be coming for us."

Dean sat in silence for a minute then, "Who the hell is this son of a bitch?"

"I don't know. Garth was confident that it was a demon that he had never seen, but apparently we have."

"Crowley?"

"We haven't really forgotten about him have we?"

"Ha, I wish," Dean muttered and turned his focus back to the road.

Sam and Dean discussed any other possibilities for who the new demon might be but then the conversation turned to their next plan of action. The priority was to get back to the Bunker and and dig up whatever they could on how to cure a demon and get to finishing the last Trial.

"Where we're heading doesn't sound like a picnic," Dean turned to Sam.

"But we're heading somewhere," Sam nodded, "The end."

Dean turned back toward the dark road and spotted a figure lying in the middle of his lane. He slammed on the brakes and swerved into the other lane to keep from hitting whatever it was. Sam started and braced himself against the dashboard. The Impala's headlights lit the figure with a white light. Sam and Dean jumped out of the car and saw a person covered in a tan trench coat with smears of red.

"Cas?" It couldn't be. He hadn't seen the angel in several weeks and here Dean had almost ran him over.

"A little help here?"

Sam rushed to the Cas's side but Dean hesitated. The last time he saw the angel, Castiel had lied to him, beaten him to a bloody pulp, then fled with the angel tablet without saying a word, and now here he is lying bloody in Dean's path.

But Cas was family, and family helps each other when they're bleeding out so Dean ran to his friend's side and helped him get into the backseat of the Impala. As soon as they got Cas in the car, he fell unconscious. Once they started out, Dean glanced at Cas in the rear view mirror then turned to Sam.

"What do you think happened to him?" Dean asked in a hushed voice.

"No idea. We haven't heard from him since the Crypts," Sam shrugged.

"Think we can trust him? I mean he didn't exactly leave with a nice hug goodbye."

"We should give him a chance at least."

"Yeah. Let him heal then see what's up."

Dean glanced at the speedometer and guessed that they were less than an hour away from Lebanon so he pressed harder on the accelerator to get to the Bunker. Once they got there, Sam and Dean helped Cas in and bandaged him up as best as possible. When they were positive that Cas would be fine, Sam and Dean left him in a spare bedroom then went off to catch a few hours of sleep.