Sam stared suspiciously at the printed frame taken from the university surveillance camera video Ash had just sent them.
"Dean, I've never questioned your memory before, but… are you absolutely sure it's Gabriel?"
"Yep."
Sam frowned. "The Archangel?"
"The Archangel, the Messenger of God, the youngest of the four God's sons. Yeah, it's him. Why, what's wrong?"
"What's wrong with the Archangel who's watching half-naked girls mopping the floor? Really, Dean?"
"C'mon, I told you he left us the instructions on trapping Lucifer disguised as Casa Erotica. What did you expect?"
Sam shrugged, put the printout away (face down) and opened his laptop. They were still in the hospital. Dean had slept through the night and was feeling better – he suspected the painkillers had reduced his paranoia so he'd been able to relax and fall asleep. Sam claimed to have taken a nap too, but judging by how worn out his brother looked, he must have spent the night monitoring surveillance cameras with Bobby.
"Sarah called, by the way. We made the news – well, not we, but our motel. We didn't cover our tracks well, so they showed the devil's traps, that dead guy and the bullet with the engraved number nine – the one that killed him."
Dean winced, "Crap. Now the demons know how many bullets are left."
"They also identified Dad's blood and assumed he'd been killed. I'm surprised the cops didn't find our prints or your blood. And we're lucky the street cameras were out of order."
"I guess Death is still covering our asses. What did you tell Sarah?"
"I left out most of the details. I bet she noticed I wasn't telling the whole truth, but she didn't press further. Said she was just happy we made it out alive," a faint smile appeared on Sam's face.
Damn Heaven and Hell with their plans. His brother deserved to be happy.
"Sam? When all this is over, I'm gonna be your best man at the wedding. I'll even wear black tie and do my best to forget all the embarrassing stories from our childhood."
"You totally will. Or there'll be no pie or cheeseburgers on the menu."
Dean wanted to throw a pillow at his brother, but remembered the catheter in his arm and thought better of it.
"You think Gabriel will agree to help us?" Sam asked after a few minutes of silence. "From what you've told me, he hasn't been too eager in the past."
"Well, yeah. Lucifer was already topside, so Gabe just wanted everything to be over. But now when we're trying to prevent the start of the Apocalypse – maybe he'll help."
"I just don't get it. If he didn't want to see his brothers fight, why didn't he even try to kill Lilith? I mean, he's the Archangel, he could have smitten her."
Dean shrugged. "That would've drawn too much attention. Michael would've been very pissed off, other angels too. I doubt he could've continued to live as a trickster or Loki afterwards."
"They'll be pissed off in this universe too."
"We're low on options. At least Gabriel won't report us to Heaven. So it's worth a shot. And Sam? Look up the cemeteries in Canisbay. It's a small village in Scotland. The cemetery we need is near some lake or river."
Sam gave him a puzzled look.
"We still need to drag Lilith to the surface, and I'd rather not open the Gates again," Dean explained. "So we need an ally in Hell, too. Crowley's a dick, but he's not the worst, and if we get his bones – he'll have to help us or we'll kill him."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
"Bobby stole med uniforms for us, so hopefully we'll make it to the car unnoticed," Sam said, handing him a white coat and a dark blue scrub set.
A couple of days ago, Bobby noticed five demons lurking around the hospital keeping watch on the main entrance and the parking lot. Luckily, they didn't seem to know about the emergency exit in the south wing.
"Dean, we're leaving today, so call Adam already."
They'd been monitoring Windom for a few days now, and so far nothing suspicious had happened – the only thing on the local news was the annual Riverfest and how beautiful and talented the new Miss Riverfest was. Well, in a rural town like this with a population of less than five thousand, a disappearance or a murder would have made headlines, so Dean was sure Adam was okay. For now.
But things could get worse once they escaped from the hospital.
"Any bright ideas on how to explain all this crap to the kid?"
"Dean, I haven't even met him."
"And I've only met him twice. Once, actually – the first time it was the ghoul. You talked to him more than I did – "
"The past me," Sam corrected.
"Oh c'mon, the past you said he was kinda like me, so maybe – " Dean handed Sam his phone, but his brother didn't take it.
Dean sighed, dialed the number, and put the phone on speaker.
"Hello. Adam? It's Dean Winchester," he said, stressing his last name and waiting for Adam's reaction. For a moment, Adam was silent. Dean heard the music in the background stop abruptly.
"Winchester? Is it about my father?" Adam's voice sounded younger than Dean remembered. How old was the kid now? Fifteen, sixteen?
Sam was staring at the phone with an unreadable expression on his face. It's not every day that you talk to your newfound brother on the phone.
"Yes. He is dead," Dean said matter-of-factly. He had no idea how to sugar-coat news like this anyway. "He was killed, actually. I'm John's son, your brother."
"Killed? When? What happened?"
"Several days ago. He never told us we had a brother, so we just found out – I mean, me and Sam, he's your brother, too," Dean answered, deliberately ignoring the second question.
"Um. Yeah, I didn't know about you either. So, um, are you calling about the funerals?" Adam asked, sounding uncertain.
"No, not really. I mentioned that Dad had been killed, remember?"
"So?"
"Well, we – Sam and I – are going to kill the bad guys that killed Dad." Sam came back from his thoughts and started gesticulating angrily, "And after that everything will be fine. But until then, well, we believe you might be in trouble."
Dean hated this conversation already but it was too late. So much for the first impression.
"In what kind of trouble?" Adam asked in an oddly calm voice. He wouldn't be so calm if he believed in what they were saying.
"They might try to kill you. Well, they actually want to kill me and Sam, but they might decide to use you to blackmail us."
There was a long pause.
"I thought Dad was a mechanic, not a mafia member."
Well, at least the kid hadn't hung up yet.
"He's neither. Well, he used to be a mechanic – look, we really don't have time to explain our family history, but the thing is," Dean took a deep breath, preparing for the most important part of the conversation, "we don't know if these sons of bitches know about you, but if they do and they get to you, you're screwed. Meaning you're dead. So we suggest that our good friend takes you to his place and you'll stay there until we kill these bastards. Sounds good?"
It didn't sound good, even to him. Sam shook his head and reached for the phone.
"Umm, you know, thanks for help, I really appreciate it, but I think I'll call you back – "
"Hey Adam. Wait. It's Sam. Don't hang up. I'm really sorry we first talked under these circumstances. I know what Dean said sounds insane, but I'm afraid you might really be in danger."
"How do I even know you're my brothers? If any of this is true at all."
Sam flipped through his notebook, finding the right page.
"Dad took you to baseball games on your birthdays and taught you how to drive a car. 'Sixty-seven Chevy Impala. Dean still has it. Um. I also bet he didn't tell you much about himself, except for a couple of funny stories about his service in the marine corps. I don't know if you noticed, but he always carried a flask he never drank from, and a gun."
Adam remained silent.
"Adam? You still here?" Sam asked cautiously.
"Yeah. Um. That's all true. But I saw Dad like three or four times. Why would these people want to kill me? I've nothing to do with whatever shit is going on."
"I know, but they won't care. They can use you as leverage – it's good enough for them. We just don't want you to die, okay? Bobby is a good guy, and he's our dad's friend. You'll be safe with him. He lives in Sioux Falls, it's just a hundred miles from Windom."
"A good guy who'll kill bad guys if they try to kill me. Fantastic." Adam let out a nervous laugh. "How will I explain this to my mom?"
"Um. Isn't she in Rockford visiting her sister?"
"How do you know?" Now Adam sounded frightened.
Sam winced, "We've been checking on you after Dad was killed, so we called her colleagues at the hospital she works at. If she's away, you don't need to tell her anything right now."
Adam didn't answer.
"So, Bobby will be at your place tonight," Sam continued. "Is that okay?"
"Yeah, sure," Adam said. A little too quickly and too enthusiastically. Sam frowned.
"Adam, look," his brother started speaking in the kind of tone he usually saved for particularly scared victims of ghosts. "We don't want you to do something reckless like running away or siccing the cops on Bobby. So if you don't like the idea – fine, we'll just back off."
Sam tried to give Adam a choice to make him feel more secure. But if the kid refused to go now, it would just complicate everything. Of course, they wouldn't leave Adam in Windom.
Dean took the phone.
"Adam, if it was some kind of a trap, would we call you in advance? Especially given that we know where you live, the school you go to, and the hospital where your mother works, and your aunt's address."
"I'm on summer break, I could be anywhere!"
"But you're in Windom, Minnesota. The GPS on your phone is on."
Adam was silent again.
"Damnit, Adam," Dean sighed. "You can tell us to fuck off and we will, but if they come after you, you're dead."
"How long will I have to stay at your friend's place?" Adam finally asked.
"A week. Maybe ten days," Dean lied easily. Of course, killing Lilith would take much more time, but at the moment they just had to bring Adam to Bobby's place.
"Fine. But not more. Mom will be back, and I really don't want to explain all this to her."
"Yeah, sure," Dean agreed. "Now a few tips on how to stay alive until Bobby arrives. Buy several packs of salt. Get holy water if there's a church nearby - "
"What the – "
" – and make salt lines behind all the doors and on all the windowsills. Don't leave the house. Make a huge salt circle around the sofa, put a silver knife and holy water within reach, and sit tight and wait for Bobby, okay?
"Are you high?" That didn't sound like a question.
"Only on the morphine the docs have given me. I'm in the hospital 'cause these sons of bitches killed Dad and tried to kill me, and right now I'm trying to save your ass, so humor me and do as I say."
"What hospital? And what's your doc's name?"
"Greeley Emergency and Surgery Center, Colorado. My doc is – " he turned to Sam for help, who rolled his eyes and scribbled the last name on the notebook page. " – Mr. Nelson."
He heard the keyboard clicking in the background.
"It checks out. Alright. Whatever. I'll make, um, salt lines and wait."
Dean sighed in relief. Sam gave him a thumbs up.
"Yeah. When Bobby comes, ask him to show his anti-possession charm. It looks like a pentagram. And say 'Christus'. Then cut him with your silver knife, okay?"
"None of this is okay, but okay, fine. Um. What should I do if something is… wrong?"
"Umm," The truth was, if something was wrong, Adam would be screwed. "Do you have a gun?"
"No!"
"Dean, for god's sake, he's underage," Sam groaned.
"Okay, Adam, that's fine. Just – just take a baseball bat –"
"I don't have a baseball bat either!"
"Oh crap, how are you still alive? Okay, listen. If something's wrong, just douse the son of a bitch with holy water, try to knock him out and run away. Then call us immediately. Umm, you don't know how to hotwire a car, do you?"
"Who on Earth are you guys?" Adam asked and Dean thought he heard a hint of excitement in his voice.
"We're your awesome big brothers. Welcome to the family. Oh, and one more thing. There's a large vent in your mother's bedroom under the bed – "
"How the hell do you know about that?"
"Doesn't matter. Make a salt circle around it too, alright?"
"Okay."
"Good. Keep in touch."
xxxxxxxxxxxxx
"It's weird, man," Sam said. They were standing in the queue at the convenience store.
"What? Do you see something?" Dean asked, looking around and throwing a suspicious look at the cashier, who reminded him of Ruby – the dark-haired version of her – and it made him uneasy. Of course, he had checked her already – he had developed a habit of muttering "Christus" every time they entered a diner or a shop.
Everything looked normal. The weather was perfect for July and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. It was hard to believe they killed the Prince of Hell a week ago.
"I don't see anything. This is weird. I mean, we slipped past five demons on the way out of the hospital, but where are they now? Shouldn't they be following us? Everything is too normal."
The girl behind them was asking her mother to buy pineapple bubble gum. The mother was trying to persuade her to take canned pineapples instead, insisting they were even tastier. Sam looked like he wanted to pour holy water all over them.
"Well, yeah, maybe it's strange. But I'm not complaining that they don't try to finish us off."
Even after a week of hospital treatment Dean wasn't exactly in his best shape. Sam had insisted on driving all the time, and he had argued, but only half-heartedly. He was slightly dizzy from the painkillers, but without them everything hurt too much.
"Anyway, we'll be at Crawford Hall in two hours. We'll be safe there."
"Uh-huh. If he doesn't trap us in TV-land or shove me inside the car. Why did he shove me inside the Impala anyway? You two have a deeper connection," Sam said, putting the change in his pocket.
"Actually, suppose – just suppose – you were inside the car. The demons won't be able to kill you. They won't even find you."
"Dean!"
"I'm joking, Sammy, just joking. I wish Bobby had already built that panic room. Could've just dumped you and Adam there and let you out after all this is over."
"Dean. I actually wanted to talk about this – about you trying to keep me safe. If some shit does happen – I mean, if they get to me – I take it there's no point asking you not to make a deal, right?"
"You're damn right. I'm bringing you back."
Sam sighed, "Look, we don't know for sure how much they'll give you this time. They may force you to go to Hell right away."
"I'm still making a deal, Sam."
"I just wanted to ask you, when you get to Hell – "
"I thought about it, Sammy. I won't break the seal. Now that I know everything, I wouldn't give up."
"Damnit, Dean," his brother growled in frustration.
"What?"
"Break the damn seal immediately and get back. The angels won't rescue you until the seal isn't broken, do you realize that?"
"So you suggest that I start the Apocalypse again? No way. If I go to Hell, I stay there. Like hell Alastair will make me break the first seal again."
"And how do you think I'm gonna live knowing that you're burning in Hell?"
"Sam, it's – damn. Once the seal is broken, there's really not much we can do to stop the Apocalypse. We can't kill Lucifer, we have practically no chances to kill Lilith before she breaks the rest of the seals. You'll end up in Hell again and that's not what I went back in time for."
"They'll find another righteous soul if you don't give up. I dunno, you can't be the only person who's made a deal to save someone. So, just get back, okay?"
"Let's think positive. No one's dead yet."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
"It's him," Dean nodded in the direction of the vending machine where Gabriel was buying a candy bar. He had a folded magazine in his hand – probably a source of inspiration for killing some douchebag.
"It couldn't be weirder, Dean."
Dean was sure Gabriel was only pretending not to notice them – being a "multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent," he had probably felt their presence when they'd been miles away. Dean rummaged in his pockets for his police badge. They'd decided to pretend to be cops at first to test the waters.
"Mr. Coleman?" Sam cleared his throat. "I'm officer Plant, and this is officer Bonham. We're with the County Sheriff's Department, we would like to – "
"Oh yeah?" Gabriel raised an eyebrow, looking very amused. Dean recognized that dangerous smile. Sam seemed to have forgotten the speech he had prepared.
"Yeah, we wanted to pretend to be the cops and ask you why the hell half-naked chicks are mopping the floor here" – Dean showed the printed frame from the surveillance camera – "but –"
"Do you mind if I keep it?" Gabriel was looking at the printout like a child at the Christmas present, "I'll send it to my relatives next time they ask how I'm doing. They'll be delighted to know I'm fine."
"Yeah. Sure."
Gabriel put the photo between the pages of the magazine. Sam caught a glimpse of a headline – "Irrefutable proof Atlantes existed" – and frowned.
"What? You don't believe in Atlantes?" Gabriel asked innocently.
"He believes," Dean said hastily. Gabriel smirked.
"So, Dean and Sam Winchester. Interesting."
"Gabriel. Nice to see you alive and kicking."
The next second they were in an empty classroom. A perfectly normal classroom, except for the mountain of candy bars on the teacher's desk.
"We're in an alternative universe, aren't we?" Sam asked with a resigned sigh.
"Nope. It's an empty classroom on the fourth floor."
Dean rolled his eyes, "Because walking is so exhausting."
"Hey, I need to stretch my wings from time to time. So tell me, Dean, what does the future hold for us?"
xxxxxxxxxxxxxx
In the middle of the conversation – when Dean was explaining how Sam had freed Lucifer – the candies were replaced with whiskey.
"So, I died a heroic death and you" – Gabriel threw a curious look at Sam – "were strong enough to shove my big bro back into the Cage. Not bad, guys, not bad."
"And we don't want to go through all this crap again, so we want to kill Lilith before she breaks the seals," said Dean. Gabriel had been listening carefully to everything he'd said, and even asked a couple of questions, but so far there was no sign of enthusiasm to side with them.
"Good idea. Good luck with that," he raised his glass and took a sip, pretending not to understand the heavy hint Dean had dropped.
Dean stared at Gabriel intently. He hadn't expected Gabe to hop on board immediately, but dammit – he had forgotten just how infuriating the archangel could be.
"We hoped you could help us," prompted Sam.
"Help you kill Lilith and spend the next millennia running my ass away from Michael? No, thanks, I've got better things to do."
Yeah, like playing deadly tricks on whoever you see as dicks, Dean wanted to say but bit the words back. Arguing about morality would do them no good now.
"We can take on Lilith by ourselves," Dean said. "We wanted to ask you to keep us – scratch that, to keep him" – he nodded at Sam – "alive. Because if he dies, I'm bringing him back even if it means I'll go to Hell again."
Gabriel was thoughtful for some time. Dean hoped it was a good sigh. He was wrong.
"How about you let your brother die and don't make a deal? Hm?" Gabriel shrugged, unmoved.
"Dammit, Gabe," Dean growled. "You did help us back there. Why can't you just stop being an asshole? We can prevent the Apocalypse and you won't have to watch your brothers kill each other. All we need is some help to stay alive till we kill Lilith. Is that so much to ask?"
"Oh yeah? So you've already figured how to pull her out of Hell and get within shooting distance?"
"We're working on it," Dean admitted reluctantly.
They sat in strained silence for a while.
"There was a civil war in Heaven after Michael and Lucifer were trapped in the Cage," Sam said, choosing his words carefully. Gabriel turned to him, slightly surprised – so far Sam had hardly said anything. "I know you left Heaven a long time ago, but if the place still means something to you – " Sam trailed off.
"A civil war?" Gabriel asked quietly.
Dean sighed. "God never returned, your bro Raphael came up with a genius idea to free Michael and Lucifer and restart the Apocalypse. Cas and some other angels were against it and things got pretty messy. Some Heaven's Weapons had been stolen – we were trying to locate the Staff of Moses shortly before I was sent back."
Sam looked at him in shock – Dean hadn't told him much about their post-Apocalyptic life. Gabriel whistled. All his sass was suddenly gone.
"Hell was a mess, too," Dean continued. "Crowley – the new King of Hell – was trying to find Purgatory – "
"What?" Gabriel asked.
"Um. Crowley wanted to open Purgatory – "
"This 350-hundred-year old brat tried to open Purgatory and nobody stopped him?"
"Who? The angels were kinda busy," Dean shrugged. "What? What's so bad about opening Purgatory?"
Gabriel sucked in a deep breath and stared into space. Suddenly Dean was very aware that he was sitting next to the Archangel. There were no manifestations of Gabriel's power – no exploding light bulbs, no shattering windows, not even the shadows of his wings. He was just serious and it was the first time Dean had seen him like this.
"The Apocalypse is nothing compared to what can happen if Purgatory is opened," Gabriel said.
Dean and Dean exchanged looks. He had no idea why Gabe was so worried – opening Purgatory couldn't be worse than opening the Gates of Hell, right?
"Purgatory must stay closed. I'll make sure of it," Gabriel said, nodding to himself. The next second he was back to his trickster-self, radiating smugness.
"Okay guys. Looks like I'm in the game."
"You'll help us to prevent the Apocalypse?"
"Yeah – but as a trickster. It must do to keep you both alive. There's a power vacuum in Hell, but if the new King even thinks of opening Purgatory, I'll have a little chat with him."
Dean knew from experience that inventiveness could be scarier than brute force.
"If it's Crowley again, make him advertise penis-enlargement products. He'll quickly change his mind."
Gabe snorted, giving him an approving look. He looked like he was seriously considering the idea – and maybe he really was.
Dean remembered their plan to get Crowley's bones. As much as he hated being zapped, spending nine hours in a metal coffin flying six miles above the earth was hardly a better alternative.
"Speaking of Crowley, can you zap us to Scotland, Canisbay Churchya – ?"
The next second they were standing on the grass in the dark, surrounded by old graves and the sound of waves. It was night in Scotland.
Gabriel looked very proud of himself.
"Thank you for choosing Angel Airlines, we hope you enjoyed the flight."
Dean sighed and looked around, "Of course, you can. Sam, this way."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
"Nice talking to you, but I gotta go," Gabriel said after zapping them back. "The floor won't mop itself. And tell your angel I said hi."
Dean froze, too stunned to speak.
"Your angel," Gabriel rolled his eyes. "The one who left a pretty damn conspicuous mark on your soul."
"Cas? Castiel?" Dean asked, his voice hoarse.
"So it was Cassie? Didn't expect that from him," Gabe grinned. "Well, tell him I said hi."
"He didn't come from the future with me. Death only sent me back. The Cas I know – he stopped existing." Dean couldn't bring himself to say "dead".
He missed Castiel, and not because his mojo used to make their lives easier. He missed Cas, his grave voice, the way sarcasm confused him. Hell, now he'd do anything to wake up in the middle of the night and find Cas staring at him.
"The mark wouldn't have been there if the Cas you know wasn't here," Gabriel said without a hint of doubt. "Have you tried praying to him?"
"No, I didn't think my prayers would go to, umm, my Cas, and – "
"It's the intention that matters, not the name. Direct thoughts at your Cas and nobody else will hear it. Go ahead."
Dean hesitated for a moment. He didn't dare get his hopes up and think that Cas could be alive. If he was alive, he would have already been with them.
But Gabriel wouldn't have suggested praying right now, knowing that it could bring an angel here? What if Cas was alive but for some reason – Dean tried not to think about the worst possibilities – couldn't get in touch with them?
Dean concentrated hard on his memories. Cas pretending to be an FBI agent. Cas throwing Molotov cocktail at Michael. Drunk Cas. Cas in the brothel, looking like he was having a panic attack. Cas showing his wings.
Cas, Gabe says you're alive. Can you hear me?
Please let it be yes. Dean squeezed his eyes shut, desperately hoping to hear the familiar flutter of wings.
He waited. For a moment, there was nothing and Dean was almost ready to accept that his Cas didn't exist anymore.
And that was when his head nearly exploded from an ear-piercing screech. He crumpled to the ground, clutching the sides of his head. The noise stopped as abruptly as it'd started.
"Um. You didn't hear anything?" Dean asked, getting up and leaning against the wall.
"No. Dean, are you alright?" asked Sam, throwing a suspicious look at Gabriel, who was deep in his thoughts.
"Well, it looked like he tried to speak to me in his true voice. It's when angels don't have a vessel," he explained to Sam. "I think he said my name," he added even though he realized it sounded stupid – all he heard was a high-pitched noise.
"And how are you going to communicate with him?" asked Sam. "We don't even know that it was really him."
"It was," said Dean and Gabriel at the same time.
Gabriel continued, "Time for yes or no questions. Yes – he talks, no – he's silent."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Sam scoffed when Dean took a double dose of painkillers but didn't start lecturing him. The dose he was supposed to take apparently wasn't enough to remove the headache caused by talking to an angel who had to speak in his true voice.
Dean had got as much information out of Cas as "yes" or "no" questions allowed. Cas kept insisting he was safe and wasn't hurt. But he couldn't zap himself anywhere and he couldn't use his mojo. Dean was freaked out and had no idea what to do, because if Cas wasn't in Heaven, in Hell, on the Earth or in Purgatory, then where the fuck he could be? How had Cas even managed to get to this new universe?
At some point, Cas had stopped answering his questions. Dean knew – felt – Cas was still able to hear him, but he'd decided to ignore him. Maybe Cas had started to feel Dean's headache too.
So he was lying on the bed and staring at the ceiling, waiting for the painkillers to kick in. Apparently, life decided he wasn't miserable enough, because at this moment the Impala alarm went off.
"Goddamnit, if the demons are screwing with my car, I swear – "
"Dean, lay back," Sam got up and looked at the parking lot through the window. "Hm. I don't think it's the demons. Wait here."
Dean sat on the edge of the bed, his head spinning. He wouldn't allow his brother to go outside alone, but Gabriel had created some kind of "protective bubble" around them so that nobody with ill intentions could hurt them. Dean thought he should've asked him to do the same thing for the Impala.
He heard his brother voice and a woman's giggle, then heels clicking. After another moment, Sam opened the door and gave Dean a reassuring smile, trying to pacify him. Behind him stood a smartly dressed woman he was once about to shoot. Dean froze in disbelief.
"Dean, there's a small scratch on your car – "
"I'm so sorry," said the woman, stepping forward. "I can pay for the damage – both material and moral. You must be very fond of your car, it's such a beautiful thing."
He must have looked as if he was about to kill her, because Sam made another attempt to calm him down.
"Dean, the scratch isn't really that bad – "
Dean reached for the gun under his pillow.
"You can go to the parking lot and see for yourself," she smiled.
Dean pulled the gun on her and cocked it. Sam gasped. "Dean, what the –"
"Bela. I'm so not in the mood for your crap. Hands where I can see 'em."
Do you like where the story's going?
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Cas is okay, don't worry, guys :)
P.S. If there's a native speaker out there who'd like to beta this (and maybe next) chapters, please PM me. I'll be very happy.
P.P.S. There seems to be some issues with FFN and so just you know - you can find this story on ao3 under the same title, feel free to PM me if you need the link!