Dean stared at the wall, swallowing hard as he thought over everything. What was the point of hunting these goddamn leviathans? Maybe they should just give up. Bobby was in that room, fighting for his life. Sam was probably on the point of breaking down, unable to comprehend that they might just lose Bobby. No matter how many times Dean told him that Bobby would be ok, Sam seemed to completely ignore him; almost as if he wanted Bobby to pass on. Dean's fist drew back and before he realised, it was punching the glass of the room guide. Blood dripped down off of his knuckles and he stared at the broken glass, gently leaning his forehead on it before slamming the hospital door open and storming outside for air.
He sat on one of the low lying walls, licking his lips and running a hand through his hair. He gulped air down into his lungs, before looking up at the sky. Everything seemed too fucking perfect. Birds flying around, bright blue skies, barely a fucking cloud against the blue. Everyone going on with their lives as if one of the most important men in the world wasn't lying in a hospital bed fighting for his life. He caught himself before he started crying, forcing the tears back down. He sat up, eyes catching on a black car. Something seemed out of place. His thoughts were confirmed when the window rolled down and Dick Roman stared out at him. Anger rose in him and Dean stood, storming over to the car.
"What the hell are you here for?"
"I came to make you a deal, Dean."
"What deal would that be?"
The door on the other side of the car opened and Dean waved his hand at it.
"Why don't you come in and we can talk..?"