The Darkness swirled around the Impala, a sound like a wild, wild wind roaring in his ears, his beloved Impala rocking back and forth from the forth of whatever-the-hell this was. The metal squeaked and groaned from the effort of staying in one piece. Dean prayed to whatever good force that was out there that Baby would hold - not only because he loved his car, but also because he loved his brother and himself and didn't exactly want to be torn into shreds, thank you very much. He couldn't help also wondering if Castiel was okay. Was he somewhere safe, not out in this… well, for lack of a better word, storm? Thinking about Cas also made Dean realize that he had a major apology to formulate. Saying that he was sorry would in no way even start making up for almost killing his best-friend-or-maybe-something-a-little-more-friend.

Then, suddenly, just as soon as it had began, the rushing and the groaning and the straining and that inky black whatever-it-was vanished. Gone. Vamoose. Just like that.

Sam gingerly tested the door on the passenger side, opening it just a crack. Nothing happened, and so both men scrambled out, Dean suddenly finding an instinctive need to get out the car that had a moment before been his only refuge.

"What the hell was that?" Dean demanded of his brother. As if Sam knew any more than he did.

Any other time, Sam would have pulled his signature bitch face and then gave Dean the obvious answer - in this case, it would be "the Darkness. Were you even listening to what Death said?" (Which brought up yet another question on the list of unending questions. Did Dean seriously kill Death? How the hell was that even possible? Could people even die now? Would the Reapers still work without a boss?)

Instead, Sam just shrugged… probably because he was just as overwhelmed as his brother.

"I don't know."

"But seriously, what the hell? If this is… the 'Darkness'," Dean made inverted quotes with his fingers, rolling his eyes as he did so to emphasize his disgust, "then shouldn't it be… I don't know… DARK? Shouldn't it be night all the time now or some crap like that?"

Sam shrugged again. "Maybe it's just metaphorical. Just because it's called the Darkness, doesn't mean that we see darkness. Like back when the Leviathon were released."

When Cas released the Leviathon, you mean, Dean thought. He still couldn't bring himself to quite forgive that. Cas, yes. The action, no.

"Which means that they'll all be looking for meat suits now," Dean grumbled. "Well, that's just peachy."

"We've dealt with stuff like this before, Dean," Sam reminded him gently. "We'll figure this out, too."

"How are you supposed to fight the friggin' Darkness?" Dean demanded, suddenly frustrated. First Sam's death. Then himself going to Hell. Then the Apocalypse. Then Sam going to Hell. Then Leviathon. Then Douchey Face Metatron. And most recently, the Mark of Cain. Would it ever end?

"Well, Death said that God and the angels fought back the Darkness before the world was created, right?" Sam asked, his tone slightly soothing even though it usually annoyed the heck out of Dean whenever he used that specific tone.

"God fought the Leviathons, too, right? So maybe this problem is a little worse than back then. But we'll have back up this time. We've got Cas. And Rowena is still under lock and key because I told Cas to keep her that way until I got back. I promised her that I'd let her go after she finished the spell to get rid of the Mark, but plans change."

"Wait… that was Rowena?" Dean asked, a shocked expression on his face, his brain sticking on that point and not hearing the rest.

Sam swallowed, hesitating. "Yeah. After the… burial, I went back to the bunker. Then I realized that just before Charlie died, she had managed to translate the codex. She sent the file to me. I gave it to Rowena to translate the Book of the Damned for the spell…" He trailed off, suddenly looking very uncomfortable, as if he were preparing himself for an explosion from Dean.

Dean had to admit, he was slightly pissed that after all that had happened, Sam had still gone against his direct order. But there were more important things to think about right now.

"I told you that there would be consequences, didn't I?" was all he said, turning back to the car.

And that was it for the discussion of that topic.

Sam clambered back into the front seat beside Dean, struggling as usual to get his long legs into the car with the rest of him.

"Who are you calling?" he asked, noticing that Dean had pulled out his phone and was scrolling through the contacts list.

"Crowley," Dean replied shortly. "We're going to need all the help that we can get, so we might as well get the King of Hell on our side."

Sam didn't answer. If Dean had looked over, he might have seen his brother's jaw clench, the usual telltale sign that Dean looked for to see ifSam did not agree with him. But at the moment, Dean found his finger hovering over a very different name than his ex-enemy-ex-demon-buddy.

Cas.

Dean mentally shook his head. No. This wasn't a calling issue. Every fiber of him wanted to make sure that his best friend was okay, but he couldn't bring himself to call. Not after all that he had done. It would be hard enough to even see Cas as it was.

He was about to click on Crowley's name when a voice that he recognized from a long time ago - a voice from back in the days when Michael and Lucifer were trying to get him and Sam to say yes.

"I wouldn't bother calling King Softie. He's otherwise engaged at the moment."