Without the interference and distractions Metatron had put in their way, Castiel and the other angels are able to organize a team to develop a counter-spell, but it takes several days of discussion and confusion before Castiel can convince them that they can be self-sufficient. When he is finally able to get away, he feels exhausted, physically and emotionally drained. He knows it is a sign of his depleting Grace, but he cannot stop to rest and recuperate. Dean's body is missing, and without guidance, there is no telling what Sam has been doing to get it back.
When he finds Sam, it is in a barn south of Tulsa with a demon chained to the rafters with warded manacles taken from the Bunker. When Castiel walks into the barn, Sam is slowly cutting the flesh from the demon's arm while the demon screams with enough force to rupture a normal human's vocal chords. Castiel hurries to Sam's side and pulls him away, forcibly taking the knife from him. "Sam, what are you doing? We do not torture people. Dean would not approve."
When Sam turns to him, his eyes are wild and his entire body is tense. He looks manic and as though he hasn't slept in days. "I'm not torturing a person. I'm torturing a demon, and this evil scum is going to tell me where his disgusting maggot of a leader is, or I'm going to cut his heart out and feed it to him."
Castiel takes a step back. He has never witnessed Sam in such a state before, and it disturbs him in ways he cannot put words to. He opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. The demon does the talking for him—or rather the laughing. He begins to cackle, head bent over his chest. He grins up at them with a mouth full of missing and bloodied teeth. One of his ears looks as though it has been partially amputated. "You think I'm going to tell you anything about Crowley, Winchester? Why would I do that when I can watch you suffer, worrying about your poor, sad, dead brother?"
Sam growls and makes a move toward the demon, but Castiel holds him back. "Stop. Think. He wants you to get upset and kill him."
"I want to kill him. He's a demon, Cas. He doesn't deserve to live."
"And the human being inside him? Does he deserve this?" Castiel holds his gaze until he capitulates.
Sam's shoulders slump. "No."
The demon laughs at them. Castiel scowls at him and pulls Sam out of the barn, away from the temptation so they can talk. "Sam, I understand that you are upset. I am as devastated by Dean's loss as you are, but this cannot happen. We do not torture people, even demons."
"How else are we supposed to find Crowley? I've tried summoning him a dozen times. He's not showing up."
Castiel studies Sam's face closely, watching the fear and guilt and hatred and dark, unending despair swirl around his cracked and bleeding soul, thinking. What can he say that will convince Sam to step back from this cliff? What would Dean say? "Cain. We will go to Cain. He's a Knight of Hell. He has access to information that low-level demons won't. Dean said that Cain did what he did to save his brother. Perhaps you can convince him to help you find yours."
It's the right thing to say if the way Sam sets his shoulders is an indication. "Do you know where to find him?"
"No, but the demon might. I will ask him. You stay out here."
Sam looks like he might protest, but Castiel stares him down. The demon is slumped over again when Castiel re-enters the barn. He doesn't look up as Castiel nears him. "Wonderful, I get to be tortured by the angel lapdog now. Too much for the man-child?"
"I understand that a few months ago, several dozen of your friends were slaughtered by the first Knight of Hell. Do you know where they found him?"
The demon narrows his eyes at Castiel. "How do you know about that?"
"Answer the question, or I will smite you from this Earth."
The demon says nothing. Castiel steps closer, holding his hand out. He will not waste the last of his Grace on such a miserable creature, but the demon does not need to know that.
"Wait, wait! Fine, I'll play. I know where Cain lives."
"I thought you might. Where is he?"
The demon hesitates. Castiel presses his hand to his forehead with clear intent. "He's in Missouri."
"Missouri? Can you be more specific?"
"Somewhere in the middle? I don't know the address."
Castiel pulls his hand away, wiping it off on his coat. "Thank you." Before the demon can respond, he begins the exorcism. The demon smokes out screaming. The body left behind slumps over, completely limp. Castiel worries that the human is dead. He holds his hand to the man's forehead again and searches for a soul. It is there, but weak. He does what healing he can spare, but it is only barely enough to keep the man from dying on his way to the hospital.
"Did you get it?" Sam asks, appearing behind him.
"I told you to stay outside."
"I saw the smoke. I figured you were done. Did he tell you where Cain is?"
"Yes and no. He said Cain is in the middle of Missouri, but he did not specify a town."
"Great. Okay, so we need to find another demon who knows which town in the middle of Missouri."
Castiel frowns at Sam. "We need to take this man to a hospital before he dies. I will contact Heaven to see if they can narrow the location for us. No more torture."
"Yeah, okay…" Sam agrees, but he doesn't make eye contact.
Castiel grabs onto his forearms and forces Sam to look him in the eyes. "No, you must promise me that you will not torture anyone else. Dean would be furious if he found out that you had hurt anyone intentionally, even a demon. You have to promise."
"Dean was all gung-ho to torture that angel a couple weeks ago. What makes you think he'd be upset about this? I'm trying to get him back."
"A few weeks ago, Dean was not himself, as is evidenced by his attempted murder of Gadreel. The real Dean, the one uninfluenced by dark forces, would do anything in his power to stop you from doing this. I will do anything in my power to stop you in his place. Do you promise?"
Sam sighs and his jaw clenches, but he gives a tight little nod.
"Thank you. Let's take this man to the hospital." He turns and wraps his arms around the limp body, holding him up so that he does not sustain futher injury when released.. Sam comes over to help him, unlocking the cuffs and pocketing them. The man collapses when everything holding him to it is removed, Castiel's grip on him the only thing keeping him from crashing to the floor. They take him to Sam's car, which gives Castiel pause. "Where is the Impala?"
"Crowley took it, I guess. It was gone from the garage. I don't know why he bothered, though. It's not like he needs a car." Sam hefts the man into the back seat and gets in the front. Castiel slips into the back to make sure the man does not get further injuries on the journey to the hospital. When they get there, Castiel is disappointed to find that they must drop the man at the ER and leave as quickly as possible. He had hoped to at least be able to talk to the man, explain what had happened. He remembers being human and all the confusion that went along with it. He is no longer comfortable leaving humans without a more complete answer to what has happened to them. It is Sam who reminds him that he is still covered with the man's blood, and that there is a distinct possibility that the man will remember what happened when he wakes up and incriminate Sam to the authorities. There is enough evidence on Sam to convince a jury, and after all, it would be the truth. So they carry the man into the emergency room with care, but slip away as soon as possible, long before there is any possibility of the man waking. They are in Kansas within a few hours.
/
The angels are no help them. Their information is about as specific as the demon's had been. In the end, they decide to drive across the state grid-style until they find it, not that either of them was sure what 'it' was. Sam thought finding a higher-level demon would have been a better strategy, but he knows better than to mention that to Cas. They have to criss-cross Missouri five times each before they finally find the house, and in the end, all their work is for nothing. When Sam calls Castiel, it is from Cain's former living room, soaked through with the blood of demons and completely empty. "Dammit, Cas, he's not here," Sam says.
"Where is 'here', Sam? How do you know you are at the right place?"
"Uh, the pile of dead demons in the shed was a big hint. There's also a lot of bees. Dean said he's a beekeeper."
"He is?" Cas' voice matches the surprised pleasure it had when he thought they had a guinea pig at the bunker. Sam rolls his eyes.
"Focus, Cas. The point is he isn't here, which means we have no leads and no way to find him."
"I understand. Tell me where you are, and I will get there. Perhaps he left clues as to his intended destination when he left."
"I don't think so, Cas. He cleaned the house out. No belongings, no furniture. There's still food rotting in the fridge, none of it eaten as far as I can tell, and there's a kitchen table splattered with blood, but that's it. He took everything else."
"Give me the address, Sam."
Sam does and pokes around the house some more while he waits for Cas to get there. He again finds nothing, not even a leftover sock. A regular locater spell is out of the question, unless they could use one of the bees. He doubts the connection would be strong enough. He goes to the front door when he hears the Lincoln Continental pull up. Cas doesn't go to the porch right away. He stands with a hand on the open driver's side door of his car and stares at the house without really looking at it. Sam thinks he sees unease on his face and jogs over to meet him. "You okay?"
"You were right, Sam. This is Cain's home," Cas says in a hushed, rough voice.
Sam frowns. "How do you know?"
"There was a great evil here. I felt it as soon as I stepped foot out of the car. The entire property is infused with it. I'm surprised you do not feel anything."
"Not exactly an angel here, Cas."
"No, but you do have demon blood in your veins. Cain's presence should call to it, even though it has lain dormant for several years."
Sam frowns at him. "Thanks, Cas. I definitely need a reminder of that right now. Can we focus? This is Cain's house, but Cain's gone. I've been looking around, and I don't see anything that could hint to where he's going next. There's no personal property left, so no locater spell. I don't think the guy has a cell phone, so we can't track his GPS. How are we supposed to find him?"
Cas doesn't say anything for a while, but he does step away from the car finally and start pacing around the yard. Sam follows him with his eyes, but he can't tell that Cas is really looking for anything. He's just… walking. Sam leans against the car door and waits.
"We need to return to the bunker," Castiel says after a good twenty minutes of pacing. He crosses the distance to Sam in a few quick strides and rounds the car door.
"You think Cain's at the bunker?"
Castiel gives him the look that says he isn't quite sure how humans evolved from apes. "No, I think there will be either a tracking or summoning spell at the bunker that we can use to locate him. The library at the bunker is particularly well-stocked. If there is a spell that can aid us, it is likely there."
Sam nods, understanding now. "Okay, I guess that's the best we got for now. I'll meet you there." He steps out of Cas' way and goes to his own car.
When he gets back to the bunker a few hours later, Castiel isn't there yet. Sam gets to work without a second thought, going to the library and pulling out the catalog. When Cas finally shows up an hour later, he's knee-deep in boxes in the archive. "What took you so long?" Sam asks.
"I forgot to fill the gas tank and had to walk several miles to the nearest station."
Sam stares at him for a half a second before deciding not to comment. "Well, while you were fueling, I've been going through the archives. So far I've got squat on anything dealing with Cain."
"We will keep looking. If it exists, it is here."
Sam nods, but doubt dwells in the back of his mind. He thinks it would be better to go after more demons, find Crowley. Cain may or may not be able to help them, but Sam doesn't want to waste their time searching for weeks for him if their time could be better spent looking elsewhere. He decides to give it three days.
/
Sam had not expected that they would find anything. Castiel recognizes the signs of his doubt in a number of silent, but unmistakable glances. Castiel does not blame him for his doubt. Sam wants to find his brother's body as quickly as possible and sitting in a bunker reading through archives had to be frustrating. Castiel himself tries not to think about what was happening to Dean's body. It distracts him from the task at hand and leaves him with a cold, angry feeling in his gut. He misses Dean, knows that the gaping whole in his heart where Dean has always lived will never heal, but he hopes that being able to put the man to rest will somehow ease the hurt.
It is on the third day that Castiel finds the ritual in a hand-written grimoire buried deep within the archive. "Sam, I believe I have found something," he says, loud enough for Sam to hear him on the other side of the room.
Sam hurries to his side, knocking a box over in his hurry and nearly bowling Castiel over as well. He takes the book from Castiel without asking and starts reading where he points. Castiel waits, watching the understanding bloom on Sam's face. He had expected his friend to smile, to be happy that they had finally found what they were looking for, but he doesn't. He nods solemnly and hands the book back. "We don't have essence of kraken or the blood of a demon."
"You don't have blood of a demon?" Castiel asks, surprised.
Sam levels a look at him. "No, Cas, as you were so quick to remind me the other day, former addict here. We don't keep the stuff around the house. We can find another demon, though."
"Not necessary. I will call Hannah. She should be able to acquire the kraken essences as well." His phone gets very little reception this far underground, despite the reception booster Dean put in months ago, so he makes his way outside to make the call. It takes several rings to get an answer.
"Castiel? Are you ready to come back? We are having difficulty getting information from Metatron. We could use your guidance."
"No, Hannah, I am not ready to return. You are doing well on your own; I am confident of that. I am attempting a spell to summon a demon we think might have information on how to find Dean's body, but we are missing two key ingredients. Would it be possible for one of you to bring essence of kraken and demon blood to my location? I would retrieve the items myself, but as you know my Grace is severely depleted."
"Yes, I know. Are you planning on doing anything about that? You will die without replenishing it. You know that, Castiel. I for one do not wish to lose you. Enough of our brothers and sisters have been lost already."
"I will figure out a solution after I have found Dean's body. There is no telling what Crowley could be doing with it, but it is doubtful that he does anything good. I have to find it."
"If that's what you want, then so-be-it. I will send someone down to you with the items. Essence of kraken and demon blood?"
"Yes, thank you, Hannah. Take care. I will talk to you soon."
"Goodbye, Castiel." Before Castiel has even hung up, there is an angel standing in front of him holding a paper bag. He hands the items over silently with an unnecessary bow and disappears again. Castiel looks inside the bag to find the ingredients they need. He returns to Sam with them and they begin the ritual.
/
"Tennessee? I get why the demon couldn't be specific about where Cain's house was in the first place. It looks like he's near Memphis, but I can't tell," Sam says, picking the thin fragment of map up in his hand and peering at the tiny burn hole in the corner of it. He should be happy the ritual worked, but he's even more confused now than before. He was expecting to have to go to Africa or something. Why would Cain hide only two states over from where he was before?
Cas looks over his shoulder, peering at the little singed paper. "We can do as we did before and criss-cross the area until we find him."
"It won't do you any good if you're looking for me," a voice says from across the room. Sam and Cas both startle, looking behind them to find a middle-aged man with a beard and beekeeper's outfit on. Cas makes a noise that sounds almost like a growl and steps in front of Sam, shielding him with his arm, his angel blade sliding into his hand at the same time.
"Who are you, and how'd you get in here?" Sam asks, undeterred.
"Your security isn't very tight. Who do you think I am? Ever since your brother and the pissant demon with him found me, I've kept track of the use of this spell."
"Cain?" Sam asks.
The man nods, directing his stare at Cas. "You don't have to shield the human, Castiel. I didn't come here to harm either of you."
"Then why are you here, demon?" Cas asks in a voice of pure fury, glaring at him in the way that leaves little doubt what he would like to do to Cain. Sam wants to hit him. They need information from Cain. Antagonizing him isn't going to help. Plus, Sam's pretty sure the guy could take Cas out with a look.
Cain narrows his eyes on Cas. "Angels, always so quick to anger. You know you've got a little problem, don't you? That Grace of yours isn't going to last much longer."
"That isn't your concern."
Cain shrugs, almost nonchalant. He pulls a chair out from one of the study tables and plops into it, propping his feet on the table. It puts Sam further on edge. "I came so that you will stop looking, and to give you a bit of advice. That ritual is searching for the source of the Blade, not me. I passed that power on. It's not looking for me."
Sam's heart speeds up and he side-steps Cas in his determination to get answers. "Are you trying to say the spell showed us where Dean is? That's impossible. Dean's dead." It doesn't even hurt him to say it. With a week to get used to the loss, he can talk about it without feeling it now.
Cain picks at his nails. "Did Crowley happen to mention how I became a demon?"
"Lucifer made you one when he gave you the Mark."
"Not exactly. The Mark gave me the power and the blood-lust, but it didn't make me a demon. I became what I'm sure Dean was turning into before he died, a blood-thirsty, compulsive murderer. The Mark desires the slaughter of other creatures in order to thrive. I could no longer consciously kill, so I took the Blade and buried it in my own chest. I died. And then I woke up as I am today. The same thing happened to your brother. Dean isn't dead. He's a Knight."
The words echo in Sam's head over and over and over again. Dean isn't dead. He's a Knight. Over and over. How could he have been so stupid? Why else would the Impala be gone except that Dean took it? What could Crowley possibly want with Dean's body badly enough to break into the bunker to get it? It makes much more sense that Dean got up and walked out with Crowley of his own free will. A sinking feeling of dread fills Sam. If Dean's a Knight, that means… "Are you saying that Dean's a demon?"
Cain considers Sam. "In the most basic of terms."
"Do you know this for certain?" Castiel asks.
"I created the Knights."
"Yeah…" Sam trails off, still uncertain.
"They are all connected to me through the Mark."
"So what, you feel a shift in the Force every time one of them pops up?"
Cain looks unimpressed. Sam knows he should be scared of Cain—Dean had told him Crowley called him the Father of Murder, after all—but he's too freaked out about Dean to focus on that right now.
"Sam is referring to the universal force that encompasses all matter and is used by the Jedi in the movie Star Wars to sense and control the world around them," Cas explains in his clunky way. Sam still can't believe he and Dean didn't get to introduce him to the movies themselves.
Cain levels his look on Cas. "I've seen the film, thank you." He stand up, turning his attention back to Sam. "You have what you need. Leave me alone, or I will have to force the issue." He doesn't let Sam respond. He's gone with a blink of the eye.
Sam curses and collapses into a chair, burying his face in his hands. "Fuck." Dean isn't dead. He's a Knight. Dean isn't dead. He's a Knight. With Cain gone, the statement gets louder and louder in his head until he can barely think around it.
Castiel takes the seat across from him. "Fuck indeed," he says. Sam looks up at him, side-tracked by the curse. He's never heard Cas curse before. Cas' eyes are sad, and he looks as lost and desperate as Sam feels. "What are we going to do now?"
"Find Dean, figure out a way to fix this."
Cas hesitates. "If we can't?"
"What, find him? We already know he's in Memphis."
"No, what if we can't restore his humanity? Dean would not wish to be a demon."
Sam sets his jaw, knowing what will have to be done. "Then, we'll take him out. He's a… a uh… a demon, now. We treat him like any other demon."
"He isn't entirely a demon though, Sam. He's a Knight of Hell. From your attempts to eliminate Abaddon, we know that they cannot be killed by anyone other than another Knight."
"Then, we'll bring him to Cain and Cain can take him out. He killed all the others, didn't he?"
"He made it very clear that we are not to seek him out again, Sam."
"I guess we'll figure it out when we get there, then, won't we, Cas? For now, let's just find Dean. That's what's important."
Cas still looks sad when he agrees, but there's nothing Sam can do about it. If he's honest, he's two steps from losing it himself. Only the determination to find Dean and fix this keeps him from having a break down. He stands, not bothering to push his chair back in. "Alright, pack what you need. We leave in ten." He leaves Cas at the table and goes to pack his own bag.
/
When they roll up to Memphis, Sam finds the most expensive hotel in the phone book and goes there to interrogate the clerk. Cas goes with him, but he can sense Cas' skepticism.
"Why do you believe Dean would be here?" he asks as they enter the lobby. Sam's grossly under-dressed for the setting, Cas only a little better with his white button-down and trench, a fact made clearer when a woman walks by in six-inch stilettos and a mini dress so heavy with sequins, Sam is baffled as to how she can walk without slouching over. She eyes Sam up and down with a sneer of disapproval as they pass. The floor is marble, for fuck's sake. Sam hasn't seen luxury like this since that truth goddess they ganked back in 2010.
"Dean isn't Dean anymore, right? He's not gonna think the same way he did before, do the same stuff. This is the last place old-Dean would have gone, so this is where we start. Besides, it sounds like he's running around with Crowley. This place has Crowley written all over it." Sam walks up to the front desk and smiles at the clerk standing there in a tuxedo and a frown.
"May I help you?" the clerk asks, tone implying that Sam better make it quick because he's contaminating this dude's area.
"Yeah, hi, I'm looking for my brother. We were supposed to meet here at six, but I don't see him. He's a couple inches shorter than me, short brown hair, probably in jeans and a button-down. Name's Dean Winchester."
"I'm sorry, sir, but no one fitting that description has been seen in the hotel, I can assure you. If there is nothing else..?"
"Are you sure? He'd probably be with an English guy, three-piece suit, balding, about this tall." Sam lifts his hand to shoulder-height. "He goes by the name of Crowley."
Recognition flickers across the clerk's face and he nods. "I do recall a Mr. Crowley taking care of a bill three days ago before leaving with a gentleman who might fit the description you've just given me. I do not believe they have returned, though, nor do I think they intend to."
Sam nods, clenching his fist on the counter. Three days ago. Great. "Thanks, I appreciate your help. Did they happen to say where they were going?"
"They did not, sir. If there is nothing else?"
"Yeah, no, thanks." Sam turns away from the clerk and frowns at Cas. "Well, at least we know he was here. I guess we'll have to ask around town."
"Where should we go next?"
"Let's split up, canvas the bars around here. They were bound to go into at least one of them."
"Alright, if you think that's wise." Cas follows him back out of the hotel, and they look down the street at a line of bars and restaurants.
"You got your phone on you?"
"Yes."
"Alright, I'll go this way, you head that way. Call if you find anything." They split up and Sam wanders down to the nearest bar. It's still early and the bar is practically empty, which means the bartender is free. Sam walks up with a friendly smile and gives him Dean's description.
The guy rolls his eyes. "Oh yeah, that asshole was in here. He smacked my best waitress' ass and punched out one of my regulars for bumping into him on the way out of the can. I kicked him out, and I hope I never see that prick again. You can tell him I said that, too, if you find him."
Sam should be surprised, but he isn't. He had been expecting much worse. "Thanks. I'm sorry about his behavior. I'll make sure to let him know he's not welcome back here when I see him." Sam stuffs a ten in the guy's tip jar as apology and heads to the next place.
Ten bars later, a pattern is starting to emerge. In four nights, Dean had apparently gotten into a dozen fights, had sex in the restrooms with ten-odd people—not all of them women, which had thrown Sam for a loop—and broken eight pieces of furniture. There were six unpaid bar tabs, totaling around $700. There had also been seven descriptions of Dean having black eyes. Sam's stomach does an uncomfortable flip at the thought. From what he can gather, Crowley was there for all of it, goading Dean on or pulling him away, depending on the severity of the situation.
Sam's phone starts buzzing as he walks out of a night club. "Hey Cas, you got anything?"
"Dean apparently had unprotected sex with an employee at the Angels strip club. The woman seems extremely displeased with this, and has informed me that she might be pregnant. She says Crowley threw money at her and dismissed her. She says it is not enough for an abortion if she is pregnant and is demanding I give her the difference. What should I do, Sam?"
Sam sighs. Sex with a stripper. Classy, Dean, classy. …Wait, did Cas say… "Angels? Please tell me you're kidding."
"The name is unfortunate, but I am not, in fact, 'kidding'." Sam can hear the air quotes in his voice and rues the day he was ever taught that particular gesture.
Sam rubs at his face, trying to force down an inappropriate laugh. This is just a little bit too much. "Alright, I'll be there in a few minutes. Are you on the same road?"
"No, I am on 64th Street."
"Okay, I'll see you in a minute. Don't give her any money." Sam hangs up and hurries down the street. By the time he gets to the strip club—indeed called Angels of all things—he has a headache. The woman looks rough, like she's been through some things and might have picked up a few diseases for her troubles. Cas looks perplexed by her and supremely uncomfortable. Perfect.
"Sam, this is…" Cas looks to the woman.
"Ambyr," the woman says.
"Ambyr yes, I apologize. My memory is not what it usually is. Ambyr engaged in… relations with Dean."
"You're sure it was this man you… danced for?" Sam asks, pulling out his phone and showing her a picture of Dean he took last year. She squints at the picture and then points frantically at it.
"Oh yeah, that's the asshole. I told him to pull out, but he wouldn't. He was so strong. And then that fat guy with him threw money at me and told me to send in another girl. They're both psychopaths. I could be pregnant. I want the money to have an abortion if I am."
Sam gives her his most patient smile and puts a soothing hand on her shoulder. "Hi Ambyr, I'm Sam. Dean's not in his right mind at the moment. I apologize for his behavior. Castiel and I are trying to find him so that we can get him well. Is there anything else you can tell us about his movement? Did you see him after you left him at all, even in passing?"
"I saw him pick up a bachelorette party and leave with them."
"A bachelorette party? Who would I talk to about possibly getting the organizer's contact information?"
"Bobby would probably know, but I doubt he'll give you the information. We're not allowed to give out info about our guests."
Sam continues to smile patiently. "Where can I find Bobby?" Ambyr points towards the bar where a man is talking to one of the female bartender's as he helps her unload a crate of flavored vodkas. "Thank you, Ambyr. You've been a big help."
He turns away, grasping Cas' elbow to take him with, but is stopped by Ambyr's insistent question. "What about my money?"
Sam clenches his jaw, impatient to get away from this woman now that he has his information. They are running out of time. Dean could be half-way to Las Vegas or who knows where by now. "It sounds to me like you already got your money. If you don't want to end up pregnant, maybe you should stop having sex with your clients. Thanks for the tip. Come on, Cas." Sam turns from her, ignoring her protestations and heads for the bar.
"Was that not rude, Sam?" Castiel asks.
"Probably. We don't have time for crazy people and hookers, Cas. Let's see what we can find out from this Bobby guy." Sam
Sam smiles at the two behind the bar as they approach and leans against it. "Hi, are you Bobby?" he asks the guy. He looks about Sam's age, in shape and obviously the kind of guy who cares a little too much about his appearance, but he looks like he also might have a sharper intellect than Sam usually likes in people he's trying to pry information from.
"Yeah, who's asking?"
"I'm Sam. I'm looking for my brother, and according to Ambyr, he left with a bachelorette party a few nights ago. I was hoping they might have made a reservation."
Bobby narrows his eyes at Sam. "I think I know who you're talking about. Your brother almost got kicked out. Twice. He needs to learn how to keep his hands to himself."
Sam forces another smile through his wince. "Dean's going through some stuff right now. I'm trying to track him down to get him some help. Did the person who made the reservation for the bachelorette party leave contact info, by chance? They're my best lead."
Bobby looks like he might help, but then shakes his head. "Sorry, man, I can't give out client information."
Sam digs around in his jacket pockets until he finds his fake FBI badge and shows it to Bobby. "I understand that, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to insist. I don't want to send file requisition paperwork on this, but I will, if I have to. I'm sure the local PD would be interested to hear that you let your girls sleep with clients on the premises."
Bobby eyes the badge and makes a pained face. "Fine, give me a minute." He walks away muttering. Sam glances at the bartender, but she doesn't acknowledge him. He turns to Cas, who doesn't even appear to be paying attention. He's looking at the empty stage with squinted eyes and a frown. Sam taps his fingers on the bar and waits. A few minutes later, Bobby comes out of a back-room office holding a piece of paper. He practically throws it at Sam. "There, that's the Maid of Honor's info. I better not hear anything about cops snooping 'round here, got it?"
Sam checks the paper to see the name and phone number of a woman written in neat capitals. "You got it, thanks." He turns and shuffles Cas out of the front door, already reaching for his cell to call the number. "Okay, let's head to the car while I call this girl. Hopefully she'll know where Dean went next."
"What do we do it she doesn't?"
"We'll try something else, maybe that spell again. We can track down enough ingredients to do it again, right?" Cas nods affirmation. "If that doesn't work, we'll have to look for more demons."
Cas clearly doesn't approve of this option.
Sam tugs at his hair, pushing it behind his ear violently. "Look, Cas, Dean's off the rails in a big way. We have to find him and figure out a way to fix this."
"This is not the way we do that."
"Crowley's with him, right? How else are we going to find out where he is? He doesn't exactly have GPS on his phone."
"Sam, I told you. No more demon torture. Dean wouldn't like it."
"Do you have another idea, Cas? 'Cause I'm open to whatever you got."
Sam sees the annoyance flash across Cas' face from the corner of his eye, but Cas doesn't say anything. Argument over, then.