~~ Author's Note: I just want to thank Souless666 for a little inspiration on this chapter! ~~
Dean handed the soiled towel back to the girl after mopping up as much coffee from his clothing as he could, which wasn't much.
"Coffees on the house?" she offered meekly as she took the dirtied bar mop back from him.
The girl's words became a distant buzz in the background as his heart almost stopped in his chest. Over her shoulder, Dean could clearly see Sam out the window. He also saw the last wisp of black smoke pouring its way into Sam's mouth. Another worker was now helping the other customers in line; no one else appeared to have seen it, only him.
His first instinct was to run out the door and confront the demon, but he held himself back knowing that the piece of shit son of a bitch would kick his ass in an instant, or worse yet, kill him. For the moment, his safest bet was to act like nothing had happened, that he was completely unaware of the demon, and continue with their drive to Bobby's. At least he'd have a little back-up if he made it there.
Dean was startled when the young woman appeared back at his side and pushed two newly made coffees toward him.
"Here. It's the least I can do for you." She glanced out the window at Sam as he accepted the peace offering from her. "I hope your brother feels better soon."
"Oh, uh, thanks." Dean took the coffees barely acknowledging her as he turned and pushed through the glass door, heading back into the parking lot.
The demon turned less than friendly eyes toward the hunter when he heard him approaching.
"Sorry for the wait," Dean said. "Had a little accident inside." He spread his arms and showed Sam (the demon) his stained shirt and jeans as he approached him, and by doing so, revealed that he was unarmed. Dean hoped that by making that fact obvious, the demon would be less inclined to do something drastic, like kill him on the spot. "But got your coffee, just the way you wanted it. Black," he continued under the pretense of ignorance.
The demon fully turned around to face Dean now and a crooked smile spread across his face. "I bet that burned like a bitch," he said non-sympathetically as he took the coffee from Dean.
"Sure as hell did." Dean set his cup on the roof of the car and went to the trunk to retrieve a fresh shirt. "Just give me a sec to change outta this shirt." He pulled the soiled t-shirt over his head, tossing it into the trunk, and tugged a fresh one out of his bag.
After donning the new shirt, Dean took his jacket out as well and slipped into it. It wouldn't hurt to have a few special items within reach should the demon try anything. He noticed the creature watching his every move at the trunk from the corner of his eye, so he'd have to make do with what he already had stashed in the interior pockets lining his jacket: a bottle of holy water, rosary beads, and a pair of iron cuffs that his father had given to him earlier; it was everything he had taken with him to the warehouse in Grants Pass aside from his Colt which was already safely tucked under the driver's seat (still with iron rounds in it). Dean didn't want to have to use that unless he was out of all other options. Shooting Sammy wasn't something he wanted to do.
"A little warm for a jacket don't you think?" the demon asked suspiciously.
"You know me, always a little cold." Dean replied with a tight smile as he closed the trunk lid and took his coffee from the roof. "You ready?"
"More than you know."
It was hardly noticeable, but Dean saw the quick flash of black in his brother's eyes. It caused a shiver to run down his spine.
Dean white-knuckled the steering wheel until his fingers hurt; his back ached because he was so tense and his teeth felt like they were going to shatter because his jaw was clenched so tight. It was certainly turning out to be the longest fucking ride he had ever made in his entire life. After every mile they put under them, Dean had to stem the urge to pull over and do something reckless. He wasn't sure what, but it was killing him that Sam was sitting two feet away from him suffering under the demon's control.
They had less than ten miles to go when the demon looked over at Dean and said, "Pull over." They were the first words Dean heard since leaving the coffee shop.
"Why would I do that, Sam? We're almost there."
"I just need you to pull over, Dean."
Dean glanced over at his brother, or rather the demon, and said, "Not now." What was the demon up to? He looked back at the road again. "Take a pill, Sam. It's just a few more miles. You know that."
They were on a quiet stretch of narrow back road now, trees lining the smooth blacktop on either side. The highway had been clogged with traffic due to construction or Dean would have never gotten off on such a desolate roadway. Roughly eight more miles, that's all he needed. Shit. He increased the speed of the car. If he could only stall and get a few more miles behind them…
And stall is what happened, just not the kind Dean wanted. "Awesome," the hunter mumbled. He let the now silent car coast to the side of the road and shifted into park. Baby didn't respond when he turned the key. "Come on," Dean groaned. He then looked over at his passenger with expectation.
"Enough of this game, Dean. I'm not stupid. I know you know." Black eyes flooded over hazel and the demon shifted in the seat, putting his back to the door; so Sammy-like, but not.
Dean's hand immediately went to his jacket, the holy water just inches from his fingertips.
"No, Dean. You try anything, anything at all," the demon growled, "I will hurt him. Don't test me."
Suddenly, the music for Smoke on the Water sounded from Dean's cell phone, cutting into the thick tension.
Dean just sat there, feeling the vibration of the device in his jeans pocket. What a great time for his dad to be calling. After the fourth ring, the call went to his voicemail. He didn't say anything, but a moment later, the ringtone started up again.
"Answer it. And Dean, you're gonna have to get creative." The demon grinned, letting the unspoken threat hang.
Lifting his hips from the seat, Dean dug down into his pocket and pulled his phone out. He quickly answered it before the voicemail picked up again. "Hey, Dad." The young hunter watched the demon as he spoke.
"Did you get lost? Where the hell are you?" John inquired. Dean was overdue by almost twenty minutes.
"Sorry. I should have called. Traffic. Damn construction, you know," Dean let the lie flow smoothly from his lips.
"You should've gotten off just outside of Hartford and came in the back way," the elder huffed in annoyance. "How's your brother holding up?"
Dean eyed the demon again. "I think he's as good as he'd gonna get for now."
"Alright. But it's gonna be slow going on that highway. Bobby says they're re-building some bridge out that way and there's only one lane open. You're gonna be stuck out there for a while."
"Yeah, tell me about it. Look, I gotta go. I'll see you soon."
Dean ended the call and slipped the phone back into his pocket when he was done.
"That's a good boy, Dean. I'm proud of you. You lie so well." Cal eyed the young man a moment longer, just enough to make the hunter squirm. "Now, where were we? Oh, yes. Now that we've gotten you to pull over, get out."
Dean let out a deep breath and gave Cal a look; more than a little stark insolence shown in it. He didn't want to piss the demon off…not too much anyway. There wasn't enough room in the Impala to put up much of a fight. Plus he'd really rather not mess up the interior of the car if he didn't have to.
"And leave the keys, too," Cal said when he saw the hunter reach up for them.
"Like hell I will!" Dean took the keys anyway and stuffed them into his jacket pocket. He turned toward Cal and threw his right arm up over the seat as he glared at him boldly. "You're not taking my car."
Cal only tilted his head and grinned somewhat ominously. He smoothed a hand along the Impala's dash, eying the hunter as he did so. "When I'm done with you, you're going to have more to worry about than your precious car. Trust me. If you don't want to give them to me, I'll just have to remove them from your withering corpse. It doesn't matter to me one way or the other. So…let me repeat myself. Get out of the car."
"No." It would be a cold day in Hell before Dean took orders from a demon.
Patience lost, Cal waved his hand and threw Dean up against the interior of the driver's side door, applying a little extra pressure just to remind the hunter that he was the one in control here. It seemed like Dean needed that reminder.
When the man started gasping for air, Cal let up slightly, not wanting to kill him just yet. "Do you not remember that I can snap your little neck," he snapped his fingers, "just like that?" The demon smiled as Dean flinched at the gesture.
Dean felt more pressure around his neck and tried to reach up to get some kind of relief, but there was no fighting against the demonic hold. He was at the demon's mercy.
"I thought hunters were supposed to be smart," Cal continued. "So far you haven't quite lived up to my expectations."
"Screw you." Dean choked out defiantly as he struggled to breathe.
Dean suddenly felt the door open up behind him and then he was bodily thrown out of his seat onto the asphalt just outside. He skidded on his ass. Fortunately, nothing was hurt more than his pride. He lay there for a second as he sucked oxygen back into his lungs greedily.
"You know, maybe if you had asked a little nicer…" Dean slowly got up from the ground and stooped to wipe the dirt from his jeans. He used the motion as a cover while he slipped a hand inside his jacket and palmed the small bottle of holy water. When Dean stood up and turned, he winced when he came nose to chin with his brother's form. (Damn, the demon moved fast.) He tightened his grip on the bottle, hoping it hadn't seen what he had done.
At the same time, an old tow truck flew by, blaring its horn. It was the first car to pass by since they pulled off the road. Dean felt the gust from it at his back, just a little too close for comfort. Good thing for the driver he didn't stop to check on them. The man probably wouldn't have lasted more than two minutes.
Dean took a few steps back toward the front of the car, trying to put some distance between himself and the demon.
"I've been nice to you so far," Cal whispered dangerously as he began to corral Dean back up against the car, "but I'm starting to get tired of this seditious attitude of yours."
"Nice? Dude, you just threw my ass out of the fucking car! If you wanted to be BFFs, you should have just said something." Dean kept his hand tucked around his side, hiding the canteen.
"Don't get smart with me, hunter." Cal pressed closer to the hunter.
"You know, the offer still stands. You can just do whatever it is you do," Dean waved his left hand around in the air, "go all up and Wicked Witch of the West it outta here. If we keep standing around chatting like best buds, someone may just drop a house on you."
Without warning, the demon grabbed Dean by the collar and slammed him up against the side of the car, pushing him down over the hood. Dean grunted as his head impacted solidly on the metal surface. It took the hunter just a fraction of a second to get his wits about him and he swung around, dousing Cal with the holy water.
The demon's skin steamed under the assault and he screamed, flailing and wiping at his face.
Dean quickly got his feet under him when Cal released his grip. "Sorry, Sammy," he said under his breath as he landed a punch into the demon's face and then kicked his feet out from under him, causing the demon to fall to the ground.
"You'll die for this, hunter!" Cal snarled as he tried to push up onto his hands and knees, but he didn't get far. Damn holy water. That shit did more than burn.
"Oh, really? 'Cause you see, it doesn't look like you're in a position to be making threats right now."
Dean emptied the last of the holy water on the demon and tossed the bottle aside. He pushed the creature down to the ground and held him there with a knee pressed into the small of its back. Reaching up to twist one of its arms around, he snapped a cuff around its wrist. The demon snarled and fought, but Dean managed to grab hold of its other arm as well and bound it tightly.
"Let's see you get out of that, asshole." Dean felt bad when he looked down and saw the metal was burning red rings into his brother's wrists. It only added to the fire in his eyes as he yanked the demon upright.
Cal spit a mouthful of blood at him. "You dirty hunter! You'll get your due…if not from me, then another one of my kind will do it. And you know what? Your brother here, he's not as innocent as you'd like to think he is."
"Cal – that is your name, right? – First off, would you please quit it with the threats. They're starting to give me a headache. Second, a little Irish Spring and I'm set to go. You though? You're Hell's filth, so you shouldn't be talking. The last I heard, you can't wash that off. And third, the only thing Sam might be guilty of is getting to class late because he forgot a damn pencil." Dean stood there for a moment scowling at the demon. It didn't even occur to him that there might be any inkling of truth to what the thing was implying about his brother.
For once, Dean was happy they were on this back stretch of wooded road; he didn't have to worry about any witnesses. Most that might drive by were more than likely to be the type that would just keep going, just like the tow truck had. Out here in these parts, people minded their own business; that's why Bobby liked it so much.
"Now, Cal," he said the name as if it caused a sour taste in his mouth, "you have two options. Either get the hell outta my brother or…get the hell outta my brother."
Cal's black eyes stared up at Dean with loathing. "Hmm… I don't think I really like either of those options. Your brother is mine. Or did you forget that?"
"See now, that's where I think you're wrong." Dean reached into his pocket, pulling the keys out, and then walked around to the trunk, opening it. "I have a few things in here that say otherwise." Dean pulled out a canister of salt.
"Now," Dean started pouring a salt ring around the demon (it would at least help keep the demon in place for now), "we can either do this the easy way," he lifted an eyebrow as he spoke, "or we can do this the hard way. Your choice." The hunter screwed the cap back on the can and tossed it into the trunk.
"You can't make me leave. He's marked. We are bound together and there's nothing you can do. No exorcism can force me out." The demon smiled as he shifted and sat up on his knees, twisting his hands in the tight cuffs.
"Oh, that little thing you branded into my brother? Well, now... I've been giving that some thought." Dean squatted down and lifted the side of Sam's shirt up. He studied the brand. It was just as he thought; Cal had changed the mark, locking himself into Sam once more.
While stitching up his brother's side back at the motel, Dean had picked up on the fact that the brand was different from when he had first seen it at the warehouse. He saw that the circle was incomplete and it had given him something to ponder over.
Dean reached into the trunk again and pulled out a small knife. He then took his lighter out of his jacket pocket and flicked it open. "Now," he said as he lit it and began to run the flame up and down the length of the knife, "I think if I heat this up just so," he held the blade up in front of Cal's dark eyes as he did, "I might just be able to break this little seal of yours. And oops, would you look at that? I can evict your sorry ass. What do you think? Am I right?" He smiled, seeing the apprehension on the demon's face.
Cal struggled in the cuffs and gave Dean a look that could almost kill. "Don't you wanna know about your Sammy? The things he's capable of?"
Dean looked up from the heated knife, his own eyes dark. "Cut the shit, Cal. I raised the kid since he was six months old. I know everything there is to know about him."
In one swift movement, the hunter lifted Sam's shirt again and pressed the red hot blade against his brother's side. He cringed as he did so, smelling the burning flesh. The demon (or was it Sam?) screamed and tried to twist away from it. I'm so sorry, Sammy. It's the only way.
As soon as he pulled the knife away, Dean started to recite the old, Latin exorcism ritual that John had drilled into him since he was eight. It was the same one Lee had tried using only days ago. All hunters knew it by heart. "Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica-"
The demon looked at Dean and snarled. "You might get rid of me today, but I'll be back. I'll make you pay for-" He began to tremble violently as the detested words continued to pour out of the hunter's mouth.
Dean stumbled in his recitation when it looked like Sam was in pain. This better work, he thought to himself. Hang on, Sammy…just a little longer.
He started up again. "Ergo, draco maledicte. Ecclesiam tuam-"
The soft breeze sweeping through Dean's short hair picked up all of a sudden in a whirlwind and he looked around. He'd never personally done an exorcism, or witnessed one for that matter, and didn't really know what to expect. The hunter glanced back at the demon whose smile was beginning to waver. It looked like it was working though.
It took Dean a second to remember where he was and he picked where he left off; he was almost there. "secure tibi facias libertate servire, te-"
Cal sneered at the hunter. He had accepted that he had probably gotten just a little over his head with this one. Oh, well. It was fun while it lasted, he thought to himself as he felt his essence slowly being pulled out of Sam's body. It wasn't his first trip to Hell and it certainly wouldn't be his last.
The demon's smile faltered all of a sudden. A familiar something…or rather someone was closing in on them. It only took Cal a moment to realize who it was. No! It couldn't be… The demon started to struggle, pulling at the iron cuffs that held him prisoner. He had to get away. He'd get through the salt line somehow.
Looking up in absolute terror, Cal saw him. The demon dropped his eyes and looked at Dean in his frenzy. The hunter hadn't seen him yet. Hell would be a much better place than this, than death at his hand. But it was too late; his master was coming for him.
Cal made a weak attempt at fleeing, but didn't make it too far beyond the young Winchester's lips before the other demon grabbed hold of him and forced Cal back into Sam's body, following closely on his heels.
Cal started to move frantically in his bonds and was looking skyward, ignoring Dean and the exorcism falling from the hunter's lips.
Dean suddenly found himself enveloped in the strong stench of sulfur and ozone and looked up to see what the demon was freaking out about. "Holy shit!" He stumbled backward into the road, the exorcism all but forgotten.
Another black cloud, very threatening in nature, was spiraling overhead, looking much of what Dean thought a black hole might look like; its dark, churning mass spanned the entire width of the road. Dean took a chance and glanced at Cal again. The demon was starting to flee Sam all on its own, but it couldn't go far, not with the iron cuffs holding it in place and the salt ring around it.
What the hell was going on? Was that another goddamn demon? Dean had yet to see one up close and personal in its truest form. His first startled thought as he was putting two and two together was that the latest arrival was going to attempt to possess him.
Before Dean could think of reacting, the sinister cloud darted downward, heading directly toward them. The elder Winchester instinctively crouched and put his arm up to protect himself (as if that would really stop it, but it was all Dean had), but this new demon didn't bother with the hunter. Instead, it latched onto Cal's escaping form and pushed him back down Sam's throat, following close after.
For a split second, Dean thought he saw a flash of yellow in his brother's wide eyes before they closed.
"Cal," the older demon growled threateningly, "Sam Winchester is, and always has been, off limits. You know that." The words came out in a menacing hiss. "He is one of my mine. You did not have my permission to touch him."
The voice terrified Cal. "Sir, I'm sorry! It was a mistake. I-" He backed away into the depths of the hunter's mind, trying to hide. It was no use. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, not from his master.
Cal's words were choked off and he screamed as Azazel began to tear at him. "You were going to kill him." The voice resonated deep within Sam's entire body.
"No!" Cal tried to pull away from his master's tight grip, but the effort was fruitless. "I didn't mean it…wasn't really-." His pleas were cut short as he felt himself being ripped apart…shredded. Oh, Lucifer, the pain…! He had never felt anything like it.
It all happened so fast. Dean could only watch as Sam's body writhed and screamed on the hard blacktop. Jesus Christ! What the fuck was going on? He was afraid to get any closer as he watched his brother's form twist and seize up, back arching painfully off the ground.
Dean cringed when he heard the younger Winchester's head crack back against the asphalt. That particular sound jarred him into action. He scurried over to Sam and tried keep him from bashing his brains out; it was no small effort to do so.
When he pulled Sam up into his lap (or at least as much as he could amidst the flailing), Dean felt warmth on his hands. Sammy! Jesus… Blood was flowing freely from a wound on the back of Sam's head as well as from his mouth and nose.
Dean gripped his brother tighter, trying to keep Sam from bucking out of his grasp. "Sam… Sammy, hold on." Tears pricked at Dean's eyes, but he didn't bother to try to wipe them away. It was taking all he had to keep his brother in his lap.
Another car whooshed by, not bothering to stop. Hell, it didn't even slow down. The older hunter ignored it as he held Sam and hoped whatever was happening would end soon. Two demons… Goddamn two demons were inside Sam. And from the looks of things, they were having World War III within the confines of his little brother's body. How could anyone be expected to survive something like this?
Why was it always Sam who got the shit end of the deal? Dean would've taken his brother's place in a heartbeat. It was like the younger Winchester was put on this Earth to suffer. Even when they were kids, Dean would stub his toe and Sam would break his. Shit, he'd break his whole freakin' foot.
Dean had had enough. "Get out of him, you bastards!" he yelled. "Take your shit somewhere else! He doesn't deserve this." The last four words were said quietly in between near sobs. Dean held Sam close and began to whisper a prayer to someone above to make this come to an end.
Just when Dean thought it was never going to stop, Sam tensed up once more and he screamed. Suddenly his body was wrenched from Dean's grasp by some unseen power and the elder hunter was thrown backward, landing awkwardly on his arm. A bone cracked and a sharp pain shot up through his shoulder. He cried out in agony as he rolled across the ground.
When he was finally able to make sense of where up and down were, Dean looked over to see what was going on and, to his surprise, he saw Sam standing there. His brother walked over to him as he still helplessly lay there in the middle of the road and peered down at him. Sam looked perfectly normal, except for the strange yellow eyes.
"Calloway always was a rotten apple," it said more to itself than Dean. The demon tilted its head and continued to study the hunter who was lying on the ground at its feet, almost as if it was sizing him up. "Keep an eye on my boy, Dean-o. You look like you're more than capable of it." A wicked and bloody smile plastered itself on Sam's face just before his head fell back and the demon made its exit.
Sam's limp body collapsed to the pavement. Dean forced himself to get up and knelt by his unconscious brother. "Sammy? Hey, you okay?" He went to lift Sam up into a sitting position before he realized he was doing so with his newly broken arm. "Son of a bitch!" Dean hissed.
The hunter re-positioned himself and opted, instead, to rest Sam's head on his thigh as he sat there on the roadside. His brother was breathing; it was the best he could hope for right now. Sam's mental state after what had just happened was anyone's guess.
Dean sat there for a while, giving himself time to catch his breath and get himself focused. Sweat rolled down from his brow and fell from the tip of his nose; his t-shirt was now clinging to his sweat-soaked back under his jacket. He didn't realize how hot it had gotten outside since earlier.
"Sammy? C'mon. You gotta wake up." The elder Winchester reached over and smoothed his fingers over his brother's forehead and down the side of his stubbled cheek. Sam didn't respond. Dean wasn't sure what else he expected after what his brother just went through.
Shifting carefully, Dean rolled Sam onto his side. (It wasn't an easy task with a mangled arm, but he managed). He un-cuffed his brother and then laid him back down on the ground, moving him as close to the Impala as he could.
Dean hefted himself up and opened the back door to the car. Reaching in, he tossed the bulky comforter up over the seat to make room for his brother. When he was done, he turned back to Sam. The young man still hadn't stirred. Time for the fun part.
It took everything the hunter had to lift Sam up from the ground with his single good arm. "Sammy, you really need to go on a diet, Dude," Dean mumbled out between clenched teeth as he struggled to drag Sam over to the open door.
It wasn't a smooth transition by any means, but after a few minutes, he got his brother into the car. Halfway in, Dean lost his grip on Sam and practically screamed when he bumped his bad arm into the doorframe. This was, by far, not an easy task, not with Gigantor for a little brother. Finally, with Sam folded up just enough to squeeze his long-assed body into the backseat, Dean pushed the door closed.
Leaning up against the car, Dean let out a sigh of relief and wiped the sweat from his brow. He fished his phone out of his pocket and dialed his father. The man needed to know what happened.
"Dean?"
"Yeah." The word came out more ragged than Dean intended it.
"Y'okay? You sound like shit, Son."
"Yeah, I'm…fine." Dean squinted up at the blue sky above; there wasn't a cloud to be seen…black or white. A bird flew overhead completely unaware of the hell Dean just witnessed.
"Dean, what's going on?" John could tell immediately something was wrong. Dean didn't sound like his usual sarcastic and spirited self.
"I…I don't really know what happened." The adrenaline rush of the last twenty minutes or so was dying down and Dean was crashing quickly. "It got back into Sam…"
John closed his eyes and pressed his thumb and forefinger into his closed eyelids. The bastard had gotten his son again. "Where's your brother now? What happened?"
"Sam's in the backseat. The demon's gone. I think it's dead."
John didn't know how to respond to that. How in the world did Dean kill the damn thing? Exorcising demons only sent them back to Hell.
"Dad?"
"Yeah, I'm here. Is he alright?"
"He hasn't woken up, so I can't really say. – Another one came outta nowhere, Dad. It shoved itself down into Sam… Goddammit, it was like the two of them had some kind of fight inside him. It was…" Dean was at a loss for what he'd witnessed. He took a second to wipe the tears he swore he wasn't crying off his face with the back of his good hand; his left arm was held protectively up against his chest. He was quiet, trying to come to terms with what he had seen.
"Dean? What is it, Son?"
"The other demon… Dad, when it was done, it said 'keep an eye on my boy'. What the hell's that supposed to mean? Jesus. It sounded like the thing knew Sam. You have any idea what's going on?"
There was no answer. John groaned inwardly. He hadn't wanted to believe the rumors he'd heard about the special children, children like Sam, but it was starting to sound as if there was some truth to them. Not too long ago, the eldest Winchester found out what had happened the night Mary died. He hoped he had come to the wrong conclusions about everything, but he knew he was only lying to himself. Was it all coming to a head now?
"Dad, answer me. If you know something-"
"No, Dean." He couldn't tell Dean. John didn't want his eldest involved in this. There might still be time for him to fix this, reverse things somehow…kill the demon. It was a father's duty to protect his children and this demon was too dangerous. "I don't know what it means. Did it say anything else?"
Dean didn't like the hesitation in his father's voice, but he'd let it go for now. "No, nothing. It just up and left."
"Where are you now?"
"We're about eight miles west on Evans."
"Okay. Just get your asses here as soon as you can. – And Dean?"
"Yeah, Dad?"
"Are you really alright? Do you need me to come get you?" John could hear the strain in the younger man's voice. Something more was wrong than Dean was admitting to, but the he wouldn't fess up. John knew what his son's answer was going to be. Dean was a damn stubborn son of a bitch and the eldest Winchester knew he had no one to blame for that but himself.
"No. I'm good. We're only fifteen minutes out, maybe less. I can handle it." His father would find out about the broken arm soon enough…and he needed the time to mentally pull himself together.
As expected, John thought as he wearily closed his eyes in defeat. "Well, get moving then. I'll see you in a few."
Dean hung up and tucked his phone into his pocket. Turning, he opened the car door; it gave a loud, protesting groan. He slid in and, crossing his fingers that the car would start, he put the key into the ignition and turned it. Dean wasn't sure what the demon had done to his Baby, but thankfully, she woke up with a steady purr. He smiled. "Atta girl." Putting the car into drive, Dean pulled back out onto the roadway and headed to Bobby's.