The Tardis shook and pitched a bit, Sam holding tightly to the edge of the console to keep his balance.

The Doctor, however, seemed to move with it, like a surfer on a board in the ocean, ready for the next pitch of the vessel.

He was one with the Tardis, Sam realized. Like he could feel her every move coming. He stole a glance back over at Dean, unable to help being reminded of the way he had once driven the Impala, knowing every quirk of the vehicle so that he was never caught off guard by its performance.

But that Dean was gone. He'd run with Crowley, left Sam, and the Impala for that matter, behind Whatever demon he's become, Sam thought, it's removed the things I know in him.

He looked back over at the Doctor, who exclaimed with a childish sort of joy on his face, "Well, I do believe we're here. Wherever here is- A321-566000-8291, B…" He trailed off turning a monitor to face him, his fingers clacking on a keyboard momentarily. "It appears we are in Hob End, Montana."

"Alright then," Sam murmured, nodding. "I guess I'll go looking….

"Sam," The Doctor said.

"What?" Exasperation made him snappish.

"Good luck."

"Thanks," Sam nodded, grabbing his gun and his bag and gun, which Canton supplied as he headed off out the door.

He stepped out the door into the biting wind of an empty stretch of dirt road in the middle of a woods.

"What would it be doing here?" He mused to himself.

"More like what wouldn't it be doing here," a smug female voice said from behind him.

He whirled, raising his gun to see a slight woman with bleached blond hair standing before him in a long sweater dress.

"Really? Guns? You know that won't—" the woman smirked, rolling her eyes, which flashed to black.

Bang. Sam fired off a shot, which hit her square in the chest.

"Great, job, you shot me, genius," She frowned at him, moving to take a step forward, but stopped, freezing. "Oh, that's just great. This is one of your special bullets, isn't it? With a trap? Word's getting out about that. Anyways, the King sent me to make sure you got your book and everything just so, but now, well, I can't do that, can I?" She flicked blood from the wound so it ran down the front of her top, frowning at him.

"Not my problem," Sam huffed. "Although it will be yours if you don't tell me exactly where it is."

"Relax," She said, rolling her eyes again. "I'll help you, but you owe me. Once you get your book, do me a little favor and free me."

"Yeah, sure," Sam shrugged, his lip curling in derision at the suggestion. "Book first, then we'll see."

"Look behind you," she sighed.

"What?" Sam snapped, turning to observe the remains of a mostly grown in path intersecting the ill-used dirt road they stood on.

"Gee, I wonder where we are?" She goaded in an isn't-it-so-obvious tone.

"The middle of nowhere. And I don't see anywhere this book would be," Sam said, taking a step towards her, still out of reach from where she was bound to the spot, his tone dangerous. His movements deliberate, he reached in the bag, grabbing an angel blade, which he held at throat level.

"Now you either tell me where it is or I will cut it out of you, understood?"

"It's here, in the crossroads," The demon said, her voice growing unsteady.

"Why should I believe that?" Sam pressed, deathly calm as he turned the blade over in his hands, regarding it coolly.

"This is where Crowley made his first deal," She said, "It's buried in the tin the first man who made a deal with him used for the spell. It should be right there—" She pointed towards a stone on the ground a few feet to the side.

"All I can say is you better be telling the truth," Sam said, turning away to dig.

He grunted, rolling the rock away before he crouched to scrape away handfuls of dirt. After several slow minutes of effort, he had a small hole going. With the next pass of his fingers raking at the ground, he felt something cold, smooth. Wiping away dust, he realized, it was the top of a metal box.

"Yes that would be it," the demon supplied.

Not responding, Sam gazed intently at it still stuck in the compacted earth around it. With the tip of the blade he had, he pried it loose from the surrounding ground, lifting it out to rest on the pile of dirt he'd excavated.

He fumbled with the lid for a moment, its rusted latch resistant to his efforts. Groaning, he banged it against the stone which lay beside it, the noise ringing hollowly in the frigid air.

Finally, the hinge broke open, and he was able to see the bindings of an ancient book inside.

Bending back the lid, he jammed his fingers in to pull it loose. The small volume slid out with dust into his outstretched hand.

"See? That's it. Whatever it is Crowley wants you to know, is in there." She said as he put the book in his bag, zipping it away securely. "Now, how about letting me go?"

"Let you go? Why on earth would I do that?" Sam snarked, standing from where he'd been crouched.

"Exorzamos te, spiritus immundi-" Sam began.

"Ugh," she muttered, "You realize, you shot her right in the heart? She's not going to live without me—"

"No, you're right," Sam replied, stepping forwards. "Makes this—"

A flash of silver in his hand darted from his hip to point at her throat where he brandished the Angel blade momentarily, "All the more direct."

With that, he plunged the blade into her abdomen, a grim smile forming on his face as he watched the last orange glimmer of power flicker in her eyes for an instant before pulling the blade from her body, as the woman crumpled to the ground.

With that, he turned away, striding back towards the Tardis, where he rapped on the doors.

They opened momentarily, the Doctor standing there, his face expectant.

"Well, Sam, did you find it?" He asked.

"Yeah," he grunted, nodding as he stepped into the ship, the doors swinging shut behind him.

"Excellent! And—wait, Sam?" The Doctor's tone changed to one of concern, as he stared.

"Is that blood?"

"What? Yeah, Demon blood. No big deal, just another low-level demon to take care of." Sam explained as he walked back around the console.

"Take care of?" Dean called from across the room. "Just wondering, is that what you're gonna to do with me if this doesn't work?"

Sam ignored his brother's question, sitting down at a table built into the wall instead.

"I mean, really, Sam, do you want to go there? Because, well, I know, I don't—" Dean continued to no avail.

"You needn't concern yourself over that," The Doctor replied cooly, "I will allow no such thing."

"Yeah, sure," Dean muttered grimly. "I'm sure you'd have told that demon the same thing."