Two days ago.

Dean turned the wheel of the Impala, successfully navigating the winding roads on the way to small city of Emporia, Kansas. He glanced at the papers Sam had spread out in his lap to look through. "Sam, I don't know," Dean said. "This job sounds pretty tame to me."

Sam tucked his pen behind his ear and frowned at Dean. "You call two people being stabbed in their sleep 'tame'?"

Dean frowned back at him. "No, of course not. You know what I mean, Sam. I just don't think this is our kind of gig."

Sam scanned through one of the newspaper articles open on his lap. "It sounds like our kind of case to me, Dean. According to an interview with her doctor, Miss Elizabeth Peabody neither was nor heard the attack, but felt that something was seriously wrong, even though she, too, was asleep at the time."

"Her doctor?" said Dean. "Why didn't they talk to her?"

"She can't talk," Sam explained to him. "She has above-average hearing, but she's mute."

Dean nodded in acknowledgement. "But I still don't get why you think it's something supernatural. Lots of people feel bad vibes- most people, to some degree. And then there's empaths and certain kinds of psychics that can feel everyone."

Sam shook his head. "I doubt that's the case here. According to her doctor, again, she has a mental condition that prevents her from feeling all but the strongest emotions."

Dean raised his eyebrows curiously. "Yeah, I'd call that pretty 'mental'."

Sam glared at Dean, angered by his brother's heartlessness. "She was born with this condition, Dean. You didn't call me 'mental' when you found out I was psychic."

Dean smirked. "Wow, Sammy- sticking up for a girl you've never even met?"

Sam gave him a puzzled look, and then he realized what Dean was hinting at. "Oh, come on, man!"

Dean kept grinning. "Well, I've been wondering why you were so hot to jump on this case. Maybe you weren't. Maybe you just want to jump on her cuz she's hot."

Sam's mouth fell open. "Dean, who do you think you're talking about? You're describing yourself."

"Hey, Sammy, every guy's gotta let go sooner or later. You're no different. Porn and jacking off only go so far."

Sam rolled his eyes and started looking through the papers again. "Could you just drop the subject, please?"

Dean shrugged and fell silent- for a moment. Then he piped up, "Hey, when was the last time you got any action, anyway?"

Sam huffed, "Dean!"

"Well, what's it been, like four years?"

Sam's lips tightened at an unpleasant thought. "No, it was Ruby."

Dean grimaced. "Yeah, but she doesn't count. I mean, you didn't actually feel anything for her, right? You were just depressed and tense, and she was handy."

Sam gritted his teeth angrily. "Dean, I don't want to talk about it, okay?"

Dean heard the finality in his little brother's voice and looked over at him. Sam's nostrils were flaring and his eyes were burning furiously. "Okay, Sam," Dean agreed, not wanting to start a fight. On occasion, even Dean could see when he'd carried his teasing too far.

Sam frowned at a news clipping. Dean misunderstood his bitchface and said, "Come on, Sam, I didn't mean to hit a sore spot."

Sam shook his head. "No, it's not that. It's an interview with the policeman who first arrived at the scene. He says he shined his flashlight on Rachel Peabody's body and saw an eerie shadow, like an angel's spread wings."

Dean whipped his head around to catch Sam's stunned expression, mirrored on his own face. "An angel?"

"That's what he said."

"So someone's killing angels again?"

Sam nodded solemnly. "Apparently."

Dean looked puzzled. "Okay, so if someone's offing angels-"

"Why haven't we heard from Cas yet?" Sam finished for him.

Dean frowned and shoved the question aside for the moment. "Well, I think we need to go talk to that girl Elizabeth. Her doctor's answering all her questions for her, so I figure she's at a hospital, right?"

Sam glanced through the papers again. "Yeah, the Newman Regional Medical Center."

Dean nodded. "Well, let's go pay Lizzie a visit." He stepped down on the gas pedal, increasing the Impala's speed to eight- on a fifty-five miles per hour road.