The drive was by no means comfortable, and the silence stretched out long enough to tell Sam that Dean knew he'd gone the night before. It wasn't that the brothers ever got particularly chatty on road trips, but even without a strong ability to read expressions, Sam could tell that whatever face Dean was making, it wasn't exactly pleased.
"So are we going to talk about this?" Sam finally asked after they'd pulled out of yet another fast food drive through.
"Talk about what, Sam?" Dean asked, his words thick with masticated french fries.
Sam didn't answer. He stared down at the burger in his lap. It was unappealing to say the least, and he wondered how sighted people actually managed to keep their appetites. I mean the smell was bad enough, but the muted colors of the bun and meat, with the mashed up lettuce and squashed tomatoes. Sam swallowed thickly and put the burger back in the bag.
With a sigh, he finally answered Dean's question, "I know you don't really like Balthazar…"
Dean let out a harsh laugh, cutting Sam off. "That's funny, Sammy. That's freaking hilarious. That son of a bitch kicked your ass, physically and emotionally. He turned on you, he's done nothing but get in our goddamn way since the day we met those winged bastards, and you still go back to him."
"He grabbed me out of bed last night without my consent," Sam complained.
"Yeah which is why you came back covered in Angel," Dean retorted.
Sam's face heated up and he caught a glimpse of his color-shift in the mirror. He shoved the sun-visor up and took a drink of the overly-sweet soda. "You and I have both done a lot of fucked up things on this road to wherever the hell we're going, okay? And… and it's not like I've forgiven him or forgotten what he did to me. But with everything I'm dealing with right now, it felt good to just… let go."
Dean fell silent again. He glanced a couple of times at Sam but let the silence fill in the space between the states. Sam eventually ate, having no choice, but did so with his eyes closed in an attempt to forget what the food looked like. He spent the rest of the time watching the scenery go by, trying to tell the subtle differences between shades of greens and blues, and the fierce black of the road and the harsh white of the paint that marked the lanes.
He was getting better at it, and he didn't mind it as much, though he still felt lost and dizzy. He missed when life was simple, but he still hadn't made up his mind on what he wanted in the end. It was nearly midnight by the time they arrived at their destination. They had the area mapped out within a twenty-mile radius, and Dean managed to find a run-down motel off the freeway.
It was a little better than their usual fare, but not much, which set them at ease since they had not yet forgotten their experience at the Elysian Fields hotel, and they were extra cautious when the other pantheon of gods were concerned. Dean paid for the room while Sam grabbed the bags, and they went into the double room.
Sam threw the stuff on the table, wiped from the drive, but he knew they had work to do. He grabbed a few maps out of the bag and found the one of Washington. Dean, meanwhile, went into the bathroom and a few minutes later, Sam heard the shower go on.
With a groan, he flopped onto the chair and fished through his bag until he found what he was looking for. His dad's journal. Not the one Dean had spent years meticulously brailling for Sam, either, but the one his dad had written out himself.
He spread the leather-bound book out in front of him, his hands tracing the cover he knew by heart. Flipping open the front, he stared down at the front page. Marks, that's all the words were. He squinted, trying to make sense of the letters. He traced his finger along them and the shapes his fingers made told his brain the letters. Dean had taught him to write, by shape and feel, and sound, but even tracing the letters, they made no sense to him. Just more vague shapes in this chaotic world.
On the pages were drawings. He knew the difference now between drawings and words, and he recognized faces, though they weren't like human faces. They were grotesque, monsters, though Sam had no reference. But they frightened him.
"Sam," came the hoarse, gruff voice of Dean's angel. Sam had long stopped startling when Cas popped into the room unannounced, and this time was no different.
He didn't take his eyes off that page. "Where have you been?"
"Research partly, and dealing with some of our own chaos," Cas said quietly. "Are you able to decipher visual text now?"
Sam shook his head and slammed down the cover. "No," he said with a harsh sigh. "Unfortunately it takes more than a few days of Dean bitching and me squinting to learn to read."
"I could help," Cas said, and when he raised a hand and walked toward Sam, the younger Winchester flinched and batted the Angel's fingers away.
"Thanks but I'll pass. If I'm stuck this way I'm going to do things correctly. I don't need you messing with my brain again."
Cas's eyes went downcast and he muttered, "My apologies."
Sam sighed. "No I… it's fine. I just, I need to do things my way. Without Dean complaining that I'm not trying hard enough, and without Balthazar screwing with my head, and without you Angel-mojo-ing me."
"I understand he has been to see you," Cas said. "I've spoken to him about it."
Sam snorted and shook his head. "And I'm sure he listened. Look, it's fine, okay? We're going to take care of this Devi mess, and I'm going to either go blind again, or effectively be blind until I figure out this whole seeing thing, and you and Balthazar can go back to your… whatever it is you do."
"He does care," Cas said.
Sam rubbed his hand down his face and gave a groan. "I don't care, Castiel. I really don't care. I don't care that he feels, or that he's sorry, or whatever crappy excuse he's giving for what he did. He didn't want to lose me, or he didn't want to feel things. It doesn't matter. I got over it, I got better, and I just want to solve this case and move on with my life."
"I understand."
"Do you?" Sam retorted, an almost knee-jerk reaction. He shook his head quickly, not wanting to listen to another one of Cas's awkward explanations. "Never mind. You found anything?"
"So far, no. There's something different about this Lakshmi that you visited. The lore regarding her is large and vast, but until now, there's never been any proof in her existence. This Parvati, however, is very real and infused with demon powers. She's been dealing with Crowley for years now, in soul magic, and from what Balthazar and I could discern from the miniscule amount of information available, it's possible that Parvati still has Bobby's soul. It would be more likely something that valuable to Crowley is something she would hold on to for more than just an infusion of power."
Sam nodded, taking all of that in. "So Bobby's probably bound to her by way of blood… or something like it."
"As you and Dean both experienced in hell, souls do bleed in Heaven, Hell and Purgatory. It's possible that Parvati did the exchange in one of those realms and now carries his blood around, effectively binding him to her. If you can get the blood, you can break the contract and free Bobby."
"Will that reverse my sight?" Sam asked without much inflection. He didn't want to be more than curious about that outcome. Not yet.
"It would be up to her. If you can kill her before she has a chance to reverse any of the magic she's performed, then no. If you give her any time at all, then yes."
Sam reached across the table absently and touched the stake provided to take out the demi-goddess. "And if we let her live, she'll continue to deal in soul magic for demon powers. What about a Devil's trap? Will that hold her?"
"Likely no, as most demons with any hint of power can break them with the right incantation… given enough time," Cas said. The door to the bathroom opened and Dean stepped out in a pair of boxers. Anyone who didn't know Cas wouldn't have noticed the shift in his expression, but Sam, even having spent his entire life blind, saw it. That Angel loved the Winchester, as much as it doomed the both of them.
"What are you doing here?" Dean asked. He threw the towel he'd used to scrub his hair dry onto Sam's bed and walked up. He glanced down at the table and frowned at Sam. "Is that Dad's journal?"
Sam shrugged. "Yeah well I was just… looking at it."
Dean pulled a face Sam didn't recognize before flopping into the chair and grabbing it. "What are we talking about? Is there anything in here about the Devi?"
"Not sure, I was about to read through my copy," Sam said. "Cas doesn't think a Devil's trap will hold the Devi, however I was just about to ask if we could summon her the way we'd summon a demon."
"The answer to that, boys, is yes," came a very familiar, very smarmy British drawl. Both Winchesters were immediately on their feet, Dean with his gun drawn, and Sam with a bottle of holy water in his hand. Crowley laughed and held up his hands. "Now boys, I'm not here to fight. I'm not in the mood to get my hands dirty tonight." He made a show of inspecting his nails. "I'm here to offer you a deal."
"You're out of your damn mind if you think we're dealing with you," Dean snapped.
"Come on now, don't be like that," the King of Hell said and took one very small step toward the brothers. Cas fluffed up a little and Crowley shook his head. "Easy now, Big Bird, I'm honestly just here to talk."
"You're here to make a deal," Sam replied. "You want Bobby's soul, that Devi won't pay up and you're goddamn crazy if you think there's anything on this earth that would make us help you."
"Boys boys boys," Crowley said, shaking his head. "I know perfectly well you're not going to give up that whiskey-guzzling redneck. I'm chalking it up to one big, frustrating loss. I'll get him eventually, so believe me when I say I'm not worried about it. What I am worried about, however, is the five hundred or so other souls she's collected and hasn't paid. As much as I want Singer—and believe me, I do—I'll be willing to trade him for the rest of my merchandise. For now."
Sam and Dean looked at each other before Dean shook his head. "No."
"I'm going to collect anyhow," Crowley said, "whether you accept my offer of help or not. The moment she dies, the souls are forfeit. I get paid either way."
"So why help us?" Dean snapped.
"Because with Sam nearly out of commission," Crowley said, motioning to Sam's eyes, "there's a good chance that you two are going to get yourselves killed, and it's going to be god knows how long before I find another competent soul to take this bitch out. I'd much rather see it go right the first time, and get paid now."
Dean licked his lips and shifted. "You do realize that if you try to get Bobby, if you so much as make a move for him…"
"Yeah yeah, you'll flay me alive. You'll tie me up and make me your bitch. You'll grind my bones to make your bread, blah blah blah. I've heard the speeches boys, all of them. So do we have a deal?"
There was a pregnant pause. Dean was huffed up. Sam was waiting for his big brother to take the lead. Castiel stood at the back waiting to see if he would be needed.
"Fine," Dean said, surprising every being in the room.
Sam whipped his head to look at Dean, and Castiel said, "That was extremely unwise," while Crowley clapped his hands together and said, "Shall we seal the deal?"
"No," Dean said with a laugh. "You will take our word on this matter, and we'll take yours."
"Very unwise," Cas said darkly.
"Just tell us what we need to know," Dean said, ignoring his Angel.
Crowley walked up to the table and stared down at braille maps. "Really?" he asked, with a quirked eyebrow.
"Just tell us what we need to know," Sam snapped.
Rolling his eye, Crowley reached down and touched the map. His hands slid along the bumps until he found the area he was looking for. "Here," he said.
Angry with his brother, Sam elbowed Dean out of the way and slapped his hand down on top of Crowley's, letting the demon shift away so he could see the location for himself. "Okay," Sam said.
"She's here, but you'll need to summon her. As correctly stated by our feathered friend, a Devil's trap won't hold her. You'll need to get the jump on her. You can slow her down with holy water, and possibly an Angel blade which might destroy the demon powers in her, but even without them, she's stronger than you lot. You're better off getting her staked as quickly as possible."
"Anything else we need to know?"
"I like the new go-get-em attitude, Sam," Crowley said with a grin, and Sam shuddered. The demon reached into his pocket and pulled out a small vial of what looked like black liquid. "This will summon her."
Sam took the vial and turned it in his hands, but even his fingers told him nothing about it. "You do realize if you double cross us, we'll kill you, right?"
"Oh I have no doubt about that."
Sam studied the grinning demon with a frown. Not that he'd ever really tried to picture Crowley, he still didn't look like he imagined him. Then again, no one did, really. Sam sighed and handed the vial over to Dean who snatched it away a little more forcefully than necessary.
"Great doing business with you. Hope to see you soon." And with that, the demon was gone.
"That was a stupid mistake," Castiel said, his voice rising a little. "Dean, what the hell were you thinking? Do you realize he has every intention of tipping that Devi off?"
Ignoring his lover, Dean reached into the bag and pulled out two cans of spray paint, tossing one to Sam. Sam knew exactly what it was for, and they began to ward the room. A few moments later, the room reeking of chemicals, Dean turned back to Castiel.
"I know he plans on giving away our location, just as I know this thing is useless. It looks like Leviathan goo. Either way, she's going to show up here and we're going to kill her."
"She's going to arrive prepared," Castiel warned.
"Yeah well, so are we," Dean said. Turning away from Cas, he turned his head up to the ceiling and said, "Dear Balthazar, if you'd be so kind as to get your smarmy ass down here, the least you can do is save Sam's ass before fucking it again."
Sam opened his mouth to argue, but the second Angel appeared with a wide grin. "It's cute when monkeys use the telephone."
Dean ignored him and turned to Sam. He had his phone open now, and was dialing a number. "Time to call your little goddess friend and have her get her ass down here. Parvati is going to show up armed, but so are we." He shoved the phone at Sam and walked away.
Sputtering, Sam threw the phone to his ear and waited for the answer. "I wasn't expecting you to ring so soon," came that sultry voice.
"We need your help," Sam said, though he wasn't sure how or why, or if she would bother to help.
"I expected as much. Send your angel friend over and I'll be right there." The line went dead.
Sam looked at Balthazar who nodded and then disappeared. Throwing the phone on the table, Sam turned to Dean, his arms crossed. "What's the plan?"
"The plan is we use all of our supernatural power, grab that bitch and we stake her. We're going to pump her full of holy water," Dean said, holding up the dart gun and several holy water darts. "Your little friend Lakshmi is going to hold her down and you, Sammy, are going to shove this right through her heart. Then we're going to have Cas and Balthy to snatch Bobby's soul before Crowley can get his disgusting hands on it and send Bobby's ass straight to heaven. I've had enough dicking around. This is a job and we're going to do it like Winchesters. We're going to shoot shit, stake shit, and have a beer when it's all done."
The plan sounded too easy. Too much like a regular job and Sam was worried, but the sound in Dean's voice was something Sam knew all too well. Dean's mind was made up, and at this point, considering no one else had a better plan, this was it. Sam just wasn't sure they were going to make it out in once piece.