Sam was sitting in the Men of Letters bunker's library, eyes widening as he looked at his laptop.
"So, get this," he said as Dean entered, carrying a beer.
"You finally got a girlfriend?"
"No.. I.." he glared at Dean for a moment before continuing. "There's this place that's filled with all kinds of suspicious activity. And there's all kinds of lore attached to it… vampires, sorcerers… and it just gets weirder."
"Really?" Dean leaned over his shoulder, reading. "Dude, it's in Canada. Out of our jurisdiction."
"Yeah, but… it doesn't look like any hunters are around there.. We should check it out." Sam looked up at Dean hopefully. "You could… ah… gank.. all sorts of things, I'm sure."
"Okay, why are you so into this? It's just some job in Canada. I'm sure someone else could do it."
"It's just… Look, ever since Cas… ever since he died—"
"He'll be fine," Dean snapped. "He'll come back. He always does."
"It's been weeks, Dean."
"He'll be back!"
"Okay!" Sam held up his hands in surrender. "But in the meantime… I haven't seen you without a beer in your hand since he died, let alone leave the bunker. I just… I think a hunt would be good for you. You know, get some fresh air.."
"We have to stay here, Sammy. Alright? When Cas comes back, he'll head here. And I-… we need to be here for him when he does."
"Dean, you… you're scaring me, man. You weren't this bad off when Dad died, I… I'm worried about you."
"I'm fine, man. Okay?"
"Then prove it. Go on a hunt with me. Okay?"
Dean sighed. "Fine. Let's go to…" he frowned, looking at Sam's laptop again. "…White Chapel."