Chapter 12- A Familiar Place
Bob's Burgers
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
"So, Cass, here we are," Dean said flashing a false smile. "You ready to order?"
"I do not wish to partake," Castiel replied. "My vessel has no need of nourishment. I am merely respecting the mating ritual. I will watch as you eat, Dean. Then we will return to the bunker for a more intimate exchange."
"Fuck you," Dean muttered to himself, pretending to browse the plastic-covered menu.
However, now that Cass had let it slip that it was Crowley who was holding Sam, his best bet was to get away and summon the demon.
:
He smiled to himself. The simple methods were the most functional.
"I gotta pay a visit to the head, Cass," Dean said, sliding out from the bench seat and pointing to the bathroom sign. "Won't be long."
The angel stared at him, but there was no suspicion in his gaze. After all he'd been human too for a certain time and was aware of their bodily necessities.
At Castiel's accommodating nod, Dean made his way past the other customers to the bathroom. He hoped to hell there was a window in there, otherwise his plan was over before it began.
But fate smiled on the older Winchester this time, and before long, Dean was outside the building, eying the nearest car in the parking lot. It took him no more than a few seconds to enter and hot-wire the little Fiat, before heading out onto the road.
"Sorry, Baby, "he apologized mentally to the Impala, left behind on her lonesome back at the Bunker. "But Sammy's in trouble and no matter how much I love you, he comes first."
:
Now all he had to do was get as far as possible from the diner. It would be nigh impossible for Cass to find him, at least not in the short term.
He pressed the pedal to the metal.
There was a good-sized town nearby. He'd ditch the car on the off-chance Cass had noticed the Fiat in the parking lot, steal a different one and head for a hideout he and Sam had recuperated, but never mentioned to anyone.
:
The Fiat substituted by a gungy Ford truck, a few hours later Dean turned into the driveway of a very familiar place, one where he'd experienced much happiness and just as much pain- Singer's Salvage Yard.
The place looked the same as the last time he'd been here, the cars maybe a bit rustier; the miserable, burnt-out residue of the house still spread haphazardly across the ground.
Unknown to the brothers, Bobby had made a will years ago, leaving all he had to them. Their hearts filled with pain and nostalgia for the old hunter, the brothers had taken possession of their inheritance, roaming through the yard they'd frequented practically since toddlers.
:
There had seemed nothing to salvage on the lot, but something had survived- the panic room. Its sturdy iron walls resisting the explosion and flames above.
One week-end, he and Sam come up and opened an entry into the former basement to give access to the room. "You never know when we might need a place warded against..well... everything, " Dean had said. "The bunker ain't so secret anymore."
Sam had agreed. "Better to have an extra bolt-hole. Just in case."
::::
Dean pulled up the trap-door and lowered himself into the basement. They'd stocked the circular room with some stores- bottles of water, cans and power bars. Nothing had been touched. Everything was in its place.
With rapid, expert movements, he gathered the necessary for a summoning spell.- a basin and some dried herbs. Unfortunately, Dean couldn't make Crowley appear inside the panic room, he'd have to make do with the small area he and Sam had cleared just outside the heavy metal door.
Dropping the last ingredient into the bowl, a few drops of his own fresh blood, he murmured the words.
In an instant, the demon appeared before him.
"Crowley. Nice to see you again," Dean drawled.
TBC