"Hello, welcome to Biggerson's, or as we like to call it, The Happy Place. How can I help you today?"

The voice coming out of the speaker box sounded extremely bored, Dean thought to himself as he scanned the brightly lit menu to the left side of his car window. The fluorescent lighting of the sign lit up the darkness around them, and it took his eyes a few seconds to adjust to the sudden brightness. His stomach groaned uncomfortably, and he grimaced at the noise. It had been hours since he had last eaten, and he was dying for a greasy, artery clogging bacon double cheeseburger; Extra onions, of course.

"You're welcome, Sam." Dean mumbled to himself with a smirk.

"Excuse me?" The voice asked, the speakers crackling annoyingly.

"Oh, uh, sorry." Great. He thought to himself. Now she thinks I'm talking to myself.

"Can I take your order?" She asked again, her patience obviously wearing thin. Any shred of hospitality that was there before had disappeared from her tone.

"Yeah. I'll take a number 5. Extra onions, light on the pickle…and a large coke."

The woman repeated his order back to him, in the same bored voice.

"Is that it?"

"Uhh….hang on. Cass? Do you-" Dean swiveled around in the front seat of the Impala to glance into the backseat. Only to find that it was completely empty.

"Son of a—" Dean smacked his fist on the steering wheel. He wished Cass would at least warn him before he went all disappearing angel like that.


"…..Hello?"

Dean jerked his head around towards the source of the voice, giving himself whiplash in the process.

The trench coat clad angel was standing outside the car, slowly circling the tall speaker. Confusion etched into the tired lines of his face.

"Cass…" Dean sighed, rubbing his neck. "What are you doing? Get in the car."

Castiel wasn't listening. Instead, he had taken to knocking softly on the top of the dirty metal box, as if expecting to hear something in return. He bent over to stare intently into the small holes of the speaker.

"Hello? How did you get in there? Are you in need of assistance?" He asked the box in his soft tone, tilting his head slightly to the side, his voice serious with concern.

"Cass!" Dean repeated a bit louder, determined to get the angel's attention. "Get in the freakin' car! We gotta go." His stomach gave another desperate growl, as if it could sense that food was close.

"But Dean, I really think there's someone in there. What if this is the demon's work? Perhaps we should destroy the box and release her…"

"Cass?"

"Yes Dean?"

"Get in the car."

"But Dean, the girl—"

"Cass!"

"Okay Dean."

The angel appeared in the back seat of the car, and they drove up to the pick-up window. A greasy looking teenager was leaning out the window holding a brown paper sack, glaring back at them.

As Dean took the food, paid, and pulled out onto the main highway, he made a mental note to himself to teach Cass about drive-thrus.