*Author's Notes: If these next few chapters sound oddly familiar, you're not crazy. I'm pulling things from a certain episode for realistic effect (and it just fits well in my story line.) Eric Kripke is the owner of the dialogue and the idea of Supernatural, just so we're clear. I know I don't own SPN. I wish I did. The only thing that remotely belongs to me is this fanfiction, and ever then it's only the idea for the fanfiction. Enjoy!

Difficult Notions

That evening found Bobby's house hopping with guests, usual and unusual alike. Ellen and Jo were called in – much to Violet's excitement and concern – as well as Castiel joining their group of misfits. Beer was as plentiful as the uncertainty and it seemed to hang thickly in the air like smoke.

Violet and Jo stuck together for most of the evening until Violet decided to take some time alone and think over the next few hours, along with all the possibilities and repercussions. Jo was supportive of Violet's decision and didn't hang on her like a typical girl would, begging her to stay and party like it was the last night on earth.

That's because for some of them, it might be.

Violet meandered over to the boys to explain where she'd be if they needed her and she could already tell Dean had hammered the alcohol pretty hard. Probably because he was still trying to get over the fact that the devil was trying to take two of the closest people he had away from him. Sam gave her a somber nod, completely understanding he reasons for closing herself off for a little while. He considered it himself, but he knew he couldn't.

Castiel and Ellen were challenging each other to see who could down the most shots before passing out. Jo wandered that way to watch the madness unfold, although Castiel was ridiculous at drinking games.

Ellen downed a shot, made a face, and slapped the empty glass back down on the table.

"All right, big boy," she challenged Castiel. Jo took a swig from her gradually depleting beer bottle.

Castiel, instead of doing only one, downed all five in his row in rapid succession. Ellen watched him incredulously.

"I think I'm starting to feel something," Castiel said in his usual monotone, his demeanor not changing one bit. Jo gave him a look of unbelieving amusement.

Dean and Sam were still hunkered at the desk in the other room, discussing and arguing like usual.

"It's gotta be a trap, right?" Sam tried, shifting his bottle around on the desktop.

Dean chuckled through his nose humorlessly.

"Sam Winchester, having trust issues with a demon. Well, better late than never," he jabbed. Sam gave him a look bordering on "that's not funny" and "I guess I deserved that."

"And thank you again for your continued support," he responded with mock gratitude. He raised his bottle to clink it with Dean's.

"You're welcome," Dean replied, tapping the neck of Sam's alcoholic beverage to enjoy the merry tinkle of glass on glass. "You know, trap or no trap, we've got a snowball's chance of making it, right?"

"Yeah, I suppose," Sam murmured after a moments hesitation.

"Besides, I'm not sure it is a trap," Dean continued, shuffling around some papers on the desk to prove his point. "Check it out. Carthage is lit up like a Christmas tree with Revelation omens. And, look at this," he tossed down a few print-offs, "that's six missing persons reported in town since Sunday." He studied Sam's face and brought his beer to his lips. "I think the devil's there."

Sam digested this information and it felt blocky and weighty in his stomach.

"Okay," he replied finally.

"And if you think about it," Dean started again, adopting that expression he donned when he was about to say something difficult. "You can't come with. You or Violet. You're both the targets so why would we lead you right into the lion's den, right?"

"Dean," Sam began, ready to defend his honor like he had many times before.

"Look, I go against Satan and screw the pooch." Dean made a face. "Okay, we've lost a game piece. That we can take. But if you're there, then we are handing the devil's vessel right over to him. That's not smart."

"Since when have we ever done anything smart?" Sam countered quickly.

"I'm serious, Sam," Dean said harshly.

"So am I. Haven't we learned a damn thing? If we're gonna do this, we're gonna do it together. All three of us, plus Jo and Ellen and Castiel."

Dean and Sam had a mild stare down. Dean, surprisingly, looked away first.

"Okay. But it's a stupid fricking idea."

Sam nodded in honest agreement. He couldn't deny it, but he was still going to go through with it.

Ellen exclaimed something from the kitchen and took another shot. Dean's attention shifted from Sam to the three around the table behind him. Sam's curiosity peaked and he looked over his shoulder as well.

"Boy, talk about stupid ideas," Sam murmured, referencing the drinking competition going on. Meanwhile, Dean's eyes had effectively glassed over and he'd gotten a stupid idea of his own brewing.

"Good God," Dean muttered, staring at Jo as she sauntered to the fridge. "True that."

Sam watched Dean as he pushed himself out of his chair, concern weaving its way into his thoughts. This could end very badly for the little woman upstairs. Dean…what the hell are you doing?

Dean was so inebriated his brain didn't find it in any form wrong to approach Jo the way he was about to. He liked Violet, he really did, but even before she came into the picture, he'd liked Jo. Perhaps not seriously, but enough that he'd say yes if she asked to go to bed with him. Pretty much just like any other attractive woman.

And that was another thing. It was wearing on him not having gotten any action lately. It wasn't anyone's fault but his, realistically, although he felt Violet was at least a little responsible, and not that she was aware of it. Again, it all came back around to him. It was his feelings for her that convicted him out of trying to get some tail, not necessarily Violet herself. She wasn't standing in front of him at every public place scolding him for indulging in letting his gaze stray a little. Except for that time she made a comment on it. That had shaken his beehive considerably and made him feel even worse thinking of a woman as just a source of pleasure. A plaything. And she was right for it, he supposed.

But tonight, none of that was present in the front of his mind. Thankfully Jo seemed to make up for him in the area.

Jo had just gotten done rummaging in the fridge for another beer, rear end prominent and eye-catching, when Dean approached her from behind. She turned and immediately stepped back in surprise at the proximity.

"Hey," Dean greeted not-so-smoothly.

"Hey," Jo replied, brushing some hair out of her face. She seemed to already know what Dean was going to try to play, but she let him continue.

"So. Dangerous mission tomorrow. Guess it's time to eat drink, and, you know, make merry."

"Are you giving me the last-night-on-earth speech?" Jo shot. Dean's balloon deflated slightly.

"What?"

"What?"

"No," Dean said, laughing to reassure her. She only smiled. "But if I was, would, uh, would that work?" he asked quite seriously.

Jo smiled, set down her beer, and reached up on her tiptoes to go in for a kiss. Just as contact was almost made, she halted.

"No. Sweetheart, if this is our last night on earth, I'm going to spend it with a little thing I call self-respect," she explained, nearly laughing in disbelief. Jo grabbed her beer and walked away, leaving Dean confused and also very disappointed. More in himself than anything, though, as he slowly realized what he'd just offered. His head hung low as he tried to play it off. He took another swig of beer.

"If you're into that kind of thing," he muttered toward her retreating form.

"Everybody get in here!" Bobby shouted from the other room. "Time for the lineup. Usual suspects in the corner," he instructed, hooking an eager thumb over his shoulder. As the misfits gathered, Bobby fussed with a camera on a tripod. "Someone go get Violet."

"Oh, come on, Bobby, nobody wants their picture taken," Ellen griped from behind him.

"Hear, hear," Sam agreed bitterly

"Shut up. You're drinkin' my beer."

Castiel entered just as Bobby finished fiddling with the camera and stepped back to join them in the corner.

"Anyway, I'm gonna need somethin' to remember your sorry asses by."

Dean, Jo, and Violet arrived to complete the group and everyone but Castiel smiled at Bobby's comment.

"Ha! Always good to have an optimist around," Ellen joked.

"Bobby's right. Tomorrow we hunt the devil. This is our last night on earth," Castiel droned.

Everyone's smiles faded gradually as the realization set in. Quite possibly some, or even all of them might not come home tomorrow.

The camera flashed, capturing their downcast faces.