Prologue
Bobby Singer glanced out of the scratched, dirt encrusted window, watching Dean perform routine maintenance on his beloved Impala. The older Winchester was standing under the sun covered with oil and dust, a wrench in one hand while chugging a can of beer with his other. The younger, taller Winchester was in the house sitting by the dining table, poring over his laptop in search of demons or other creepy-crawlies to hunt down. The two brothers had been driving near his home and decided to stop by his place for a quick R&R. Bobby was more than happy to let them take a break in his house.
As he turned his gaze away from the window he saw Sam close the top of his laptop and give a heavy sigh, stretching out his long limbs from where he sat.
"No news?" Bobby asked.
"No news." Sam answered. "No flickering lights, no sudden famine or devastating catastrophe. There's hardly a mention of demonic signs in any city."
"Strange that you'd hear nothing despite the fact that these seals are being broken even as we speak." Bobby commented. "They must be out there somewhere."
"I know." Sam muttered with another sigh. "I wish there was a way for us to know what the seals are so we could prevent them from being broken." But both men were aware that even if they knew, they wouldn't be able to stop them all. There were just too many seals and too few of them to stop it. Sam stared at his laptop for a few seconds as if waiting for it to reveal to him their next step then opened the top again.
"I'll just make another quick search in case I missed something earlier." Bobby just nodded and left him to it. A few minutes later he came back into the room where Sam was, nursing a bottle of beer he took from his kitchen.
It was at this moment that Dean chose to make his entrance. His face was grim and pissed as he stomped into the house and ungracefully sat down on a chair beside Sam with his arms crossed over his chest. He said nothing to them but anyone with eyes could tell that Dean was angry about something. The other two looked at each other in silence before turning their gazes back to Dean. It was the younger man who decided to voice his concern.
"Dean, what's wrong?" The older Winchester didn't reply immediately. He looked first at Bobby, then at Sam, before looking to the other again. Without warning he grabbed the beer from the older man's hand and chugged it all down before finally slamming the empty bottle on the table.
"The fucking angels want me to go to freakin' London!"