They just left him there. Left him on his own with Sam, while they went off to help Booth and Brennan. It was an emergency, Castiel said, and he and Dean had to go right now. He couldn't carry three, and they couldn't leave Sam on his own. Castiel had zapped off with Dean before Sweets had time to argue, and now Sweets was left alone with Sam, all the way across the city from home, and he was under no circumstances allowed to drive Dean's car. Awesome. Sweets would have suspected it was a sneaky way for Cas to get Dean alone, except that he'd said it was Dr Brennan praying, and Brennan still didn't believe in God and angels, even after the events of the past two days. It would take something seriously bad to get her to pray.

"So..." said Sam, awkwardly.

"So..." said Sweets.

"We should just stay here, then. Dean said we should stay here and wait for them."

"Yeah, we should stay here."

There was a pause.

"I don't feel very helpful," Sweets said.

"Me neither. I don't think this is helping me believe in my value to the team," Sam said.

"It's very important that you understand what a valuable contribution you make, and that you can really want to help humanity. If you remember that, it will help the next time you feel yourself slipping away."

"Dean never said I couldn't drive his car..." Sam trailed off.

And that's how Sweets came to be sitting in the passenger seat of the Impala, examining the map, while Sam followed his directions.

The nearest tooth was inside an office building. Sam vetoed that on the grounds that all the cubicle drones would be either brainwashed into Satanism or just really, really bored and extremely enthusiastic about expelling intruders from their place of work, particularly if those intruders were messing with their pot plants.

They went to someone's backyard instead.

Sweets couldn't help feeling a little nervous as he watched Sam expertly load the shotgun. He looked around jumpily. He really hoped there were no police around.

"We usually do this at night," Sam said, handing him his trusty crowbar and a can of gasoline. "If anyone questions you, we're in pest control and home maintenance."

They walked around the back of the house. There was an elderly lady attacking a flower bed heartily with a trowel. Sam hastily hid the shotgun behind him as she looked up.

"Who are you?" The woman asked suspiciously.

"Pest control, ma'am," Sweets told her.

"I didn't call an exterminator. You're here to rob me, aren't you? Well, I've got nothing to steal."

"This is 184 Wiltshire, isn't it?" Sam asked.

"Get out before I call the police."

They left.

"We got the wrong place?" Sweets asked hopefully. This was looking like a worse and worse idea by the second.

"No," said Sam, reaching into the trunk for something, "I saw a Rhododendron with the symbol carved at the base."

"Maybe we should just come back when it's dark."

"She's seen us now. If we wait that long the place will be swarming with the 'neighbourhood watch'. We have to take care of this now." Sam pulled a thick rope and a set of handcuffs out of the trunk.

Oh, Sweets really didn't like where this was going.

"We can't tie her up!" he exclaimed.

"We don't really have a choice," Sam said, all business. "She's probably evil, if it helps."

Sweets looked at Sam. His eyes were not black. There were no throbbing veins in his neck. He looked relaxed. He had a shotgun in one hand, a large rope looped over his shoulder, and a pair of handcuffs in his other hand, and he looked relaxed. Crap. Sweets was in way over his head. And he was starting to think that the doubts Sam had about his own goodness were not entirely about the influence of the demon blood. Come on, Sweets, you're a psychologist, think!

"You know what we need? A distraction. We can get someone to distract her while we set fire to her garden."

"Who? Wasn't the idea of this to prove our worth to the team? I think Dean and Cas are a little busy right now. And it sounded like Agent Booth and Doctor Brennan were kind of... tied up. We have limited resources here... It's not like I enjoy tying people up... sometimes you have to do something not very nice for the greater good."

Sweets would have liked to point out where that train of thought had got Sam last time, but he didn't think it would be helpful.

"Sam," he said, "When does doing something for the greater good ever turn out well? Haven't you seen Hot Fuzz?"

Sam looked dejected. "I just want to help. I need to show Dean that I'm still on his side, and I can still help save the world without going darkside again. I'm just slowing him down and hurting him if he has to keep looking over his shoulder for me."

Sam leaned back against the car and Sweets let out a silent sigh of relief.

"We need to find a way to help without asking Dean for help and without tying her up," Sweets told him. "You'll only feel guilty about it later if we do it, and that will set your recovery back significantly." He wasn't actually sure that Sam would. Sam was difficult to read at times, and the heart-thumping fear Sweets felt every time Sam stood up to his full height didn't help.

"OK. A distraction. We're going to need at least two people to take out the spirit, though."

Sweets had an idea. He took out his cell phone and pressed number one on his speed dial.

XXX

"Well, Lancelot – What's so important you couldn't ask me over the phone?" Daisy asked, running over to where Sweets and Sam stood leaning against the Impala.

Out of the corner of his eye, Sweets saw Sam recoil slightly at Daisy's overpowering cheerfulness. Daisy had that effect on people sometimes. She would be an awesome distraction.

XXX