"So, you're not a demon now?" Sam asks furtively.
"No. Chuck seems to have cleaned that up for me. And you, you're alive?" Dean asks.
"Well, yeah. We couldn't find you, and you didn't seem all that interested in coming in. Cas came up with the idea, and he created a kind of, copy of me. To be honest, it was kind of creepy. Like back when I didn't have a soul," Sam says, pulling two beers from the cooler in the back of the impala and shutting the door. He twists the cap off one and hands it to Dean, then opens the other for himself and leans against the hood beside his brother.
"Well I guess that's something," Dean mumbles.
"What's wrong, man? This is a win! We should celebrate."
"Celebrate what Sammy," Dean snaps. "It's not like the mark is gone."
"Come on Dean, we need to take it one step at a time," Sam replies, cocking his head and looking at his brother.
"Right, and just where has that gotten us, exactly?" Dean asks.
"Dean is right," Cas says, touching Sam on the shoulder and scaring him so bad he drops his beer. Cas catches the bottle just before it hits the ground, and hands it back to Sam.
"You have got to stop doing that," Sam snaps.
"That was awesome," Dean quips, and grins for the first time in months, lightly punching Cas in the shoulder. Cas returns the affection somewhat forcefully, and Dean just shakes his head.
"So, where is God?" Cas asks.
"Chuck? No clue. He showed up, scrubbed off the demonic parts, said some things and disappeared." Dean replies.
"What did he say to you, exactly?" Cas asks.
"You know what…I can't remember it all," Dean replies, shaking his head. "He told me Sammy wasn't dead, but I can't remember anything else."
"That's not surprising. God has that effect on people." Cas says. "I just wish I knew what he wants."
"Yeah. I suppose it must suck to be flying blind," Sam states.
"What do you mean," Cas asks, cocking his head. "We're standing here."
Sam shakes his head and laughs once.
"Oh, another colloquialism."
"Yes," Sam replies, slapping Cas lightly on the shoulder.
"Metatron gave me a gift when he updated my knowledge of popular culture. Colloquialisms still confuse me, however."
"Metadouche did not give you a gift," Dean snaps. "We just don't know how it's going to bite us in the ass yet."
"I agree with Dean. Metatron doesn't do anything that doesn't directly help Metatron," Sam says, taking a pull from his beer. "In fact, I could argue that he already tried to use that 'gift' to kill you."
"I don't understand," Cas says.
"Remember the trap he set? The angel that got Molotoved in your place? The one that wouldn't let you heal him," Sam asks.
"Oh. Yes, there is that," Cas cocks his head to the other side.
"Alright, enough. No chick flick moments," Dean states. "Let's get out of here."