Chapter Six

Dean sat at a table in a diner, waiting for Sam to come back. They had just left Pamela's house, where an ambulance had loaded her up and left for the hospital. The medical guys had been baffled.

"Be up in a jiff," said the waitress after Dean gave her his order.

As she turned and left, Dean watched her leave, narrowing his eyes in confusion. There was just something off about her; he couldn't figure it out. He watched the waitress head over to the counter and talk to the cook in the back.

"Dean!"

Dean looked over to see that Sam had returned and was sitting across from him with a worried expression.

"You okay?" Sam asked.

Dean glanced over at the waitress before looking back at Sam. "Yeah…I'm good."

"Well, Bobby said Pam's stable," said Sam, holding up his cell phone. "And out of the I.C.U."

"And blind, because of us," muttered Dean.

"And we still have no clue who we're dealing with," said Sam.

"That's not entirely true," Dean told him.

"No?"

"We got a name: Castiel, or whatever. With the right mumbo-jumbo, we could summon him, bring him right to us."

"You're crazy. Absolutely not."

"We'll work him over. I mean, after what he did?"

Sam frowned at Dean. "Pam took a peek at him, and her eyes burned out of her skull, and you want to have a face to face?"

"You got a better idea?"

"Yeah, as a matter of fact, I do. I followed some demons to town, right?"

Dean frowned. "Okay."

"So, we go find them," said Sam. "Someone's gotta know something about something."

The waitress walked back over, and Dean looked up at her, feeling a twinge in the back of his mind. He was getting that vibe from her again, but he couldn't place it.

The waitress set two plates of pie in front of them, and Sam thanked her. As the waitress locked eyes with Dean, he suddenly placed the odd feeling he was getting. He lunged forward and slugged her across the jaw.

"Dean!" Sam hissed at him.

Dean got to his feet and said simply, "Demon." He swung another punch at the girl, knocking her to the floor.

The waitress looked up at him with black eyes, and Sam stood from his seat, glaring down at the woman.

"Should I?" asked Sam.

Dean frowned over at him. "Really?"

"Well…yeah…" muttered Sam.

"I think you have to worry about us right now," said the waitress.

People grabbed Dean and Sam from behind, the possessed cook and a possessed customer. Dean almost started fighting back before he hesitated, deciding to go with Sam's plan of finding out what the demons know. The waitress stood and walked over to the front door, locking it.

She turned back around, her eyes going back to normal. "Dean…to hell and back. Aren't you a lucky duck."

Dean smirked at her. "That's me."

"So, you get to just stroll out of the pit, huh?" said the demon. "Tell me. What makes you so special?"

"I like to think it's because of my perky nipples," Dean smiled.

She glared at him.

"I don't know," Dean told her, building up his strength. "Wasn't my doing. I don't know who pulled me out."

"Right," said the demon. "You don't."

"No, I don't," said Dean.

"Lying's a sin, you know," said the demon.

"I'm not lying," Dean told her. "But I'd like to find out, so if you wouldn't mind enlightening me, Flo."

The demon glared at him. "Mind your tone with me, boy. I'll drag you back to hell myself."

"Is that so?" Dean shot at her.

Dean brought his head back, nailing the demon who had hold of him in the head. The demon shouted and let him go. Dean spun around and nailed the demon in the face and gut a few times as Sam struggled with his demon. When the demon was on the floor, Dean turned and punched the demon holding Sam. The demon let Sam go, and Sam pulled out Ruby's knife, tossing it to Dean. Dean grabbed the knife out of the air as he turned, stabbing the demon on the floor.

Sam raised his hand out towards the waitress and held her in place. Dean plucked the knife out of the demon's chest and spun, throwing the knife at the other demon as he went for Sam. The demon flickered as he collapsed to the floor, dead. Dean walked over and grabbed the knife from the demon, turning towards the waitress, who quivered in Sam's psychic hold.

"Well, look at you, Lara Croft," the waitress smirked at him.

"Shut up," Dean growled at her. He glanced over at Sam, who grimaced in concentration. "Nice moves, Sammy." He looked back at the waitress. "Even if you could right now, you wouldn't drag me to hell. Because if you were you would have done it already. Fact is, you don't know who cut me loose. And you're just as spooked as we are. And you're looking for answers." He stepped menacingly towards her. "Well, maybe it was some turbo-charged spirit. Or, uh, Godzilla. Or some big bad boss demon. I'm guessing at your pay grade that they don't tell you squat. Because whoever it was…they want me out. And they're a lot stronger than you."

"I will kill you myself," growled the demon.

"Oh, yeah?" said Dean. He stepped back and looked at his brother. "Hit it, Sammy."

Sam stretched his hand out further, and the demon convulsed, coughing up black smoke. The black smoke pooled on the floor as she coughed it up and then collapsed. The black smoke burned through the floor as Sam lowered his hand into a fist. Dean hurried to the girl and felt the pulse point on her neck for a moment.

"Dammit…" Dean muttered, looking back at Sam with a shake of his head.

They headed out of the diner, looking back at it.

"Holy crap, that was close," muttered Dean.

"What now?" asked Sam.

"I say we look into that Castiel guy," Dean told him as they headed towards the Impala.

"Dean—" Sam began.

"We went with your plan," said Dean. "The demons didn't know anything. Now, we summon Castiel."

Sam sighed. "And nothing I say is gonna change your mind?"

"Not a bit." Dean climbed behind the wheel of the Impala.

Sam shook his head in part irritation-part fondness as he climbed in also.

*******************************************SPN***********************************************************************

Dean sat on the fold-out couch with a large book open in his lap. Sam sat on the bed across from him, going through a book of his own.

Sam got to the end and closed the book with a thud. "Nothing in here. How you doing?"

"Jack with a side of squat, that's how I'm doing," Dean muttered, closing his book also.

"Well, has Bobby got anything?" asked Sam, running a hand tiredly across his face.

"No, he would've called," Dean told him.

"Well…we could…head out for a burger," suggested Sam, glancing down at his watch. His eyebrows rose as he realized just how late it actually was. "Or maybe drinks instead."

"Nah, I'm beat," Dean told him. "You can head out if you want." He dug in his pocket for his keys, raising his hand to toss them to Sam, but then froze as a feeling sparked in his mind.

Sam stared at him, glancing from the keys still in his raised fist to his confused face. "Dean?"

Dean frowned. "Sam…something's wrong."

Sam frowned, leaning forward a little. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know," said Dean. "I just feel…" His eyes widened suddenly. "Something's coming."

Having learned to trust Dean's freaky instincts in the last day or so, Sam grabbed a salt gun from the duffel on the floor by the bed, loading it with some shells next to it in the bag. Dean was grabbing a salt gun propped up against the fold-out bed he had already loaded earlier. The two of them stood at the ready, salt guns aimed around the room.

The television flickered to life, static filling the screen, and the radio flipped on, whining as it flipped through the stations.

Dean looked back and forth between the TV and the radio. "Oh, crap…"

"What?" asked Sam, staring in confusion at the TV and radio.

"It's the thing from the gas station," Dean told him. "The thing that brought me back: Castiel."

Sam's eyes widened, and he glanced down at the salt gun in his hands before setting it on the bed and withdrawing Ruby's knife from his jeans. A hum began whining throughout the room, growing in pitch and volume.

Dean glanced around at the windows and then up at the mirror in the ceiling. "Run!"

"What?" exclaimed Sam. "Why?"

"Trust me, run!" yelled Dean as the whine grew louder. He charged for the door, covering his ear as he did, and wrenched it open.

Dean burst through the door as Sam followed, the windows and mirror shattering and spraying glass all over the room. Bobby came out of the stairwell to see them running from the room.

"Go, go, go!" Dean told him, darting into the stairwell.

"Wait!" called Sam from where Bobby stood at the doorway.

Dean looked up at him, noticing the absence of the mysterious noise. The three of them exchanged looks before heading back down the hallway and into the room. Glass was littered all over the floor, but just like at the gas station, no one and nothing had appeared there.

"Let's go," Dean told them, grabbing their things and stuffing it in the duffel bags. "That thing knows we're here. We gotta vamoose."

"And go where?" asked Sam as he began packing hurriedly also. "It's obviously tracking you. How are we gonna run from it?"

"We're not," said Dean matter-of-factly. "We're summoning it." He glanced up to see Bobby and Sam both looking at him like he was crazy. "Pack while you talk, people!" He went back to grabbing his things.

"You're insane," Sam told him as he went back to his packing.

"It's time we faced it head-on," shrugged Dean, zipping up the bag.

"You can't be serious!" said Bobby.

"As a heart attack," said Dean, turning towards the door as Sam zipped his bag up, too. "It's high noon, baby."

"Well, don't know what it is," said Sam as he followed Dean and Bobby out the door. "It could be a demon, it could be anything."

"That's why we've gotta be ready for anything," said Dean as he led the way down the stairwell. "We've got the big-time magic knife, two arsenals in the trunk, super psychic boy here…"

"This is a bad idea," said Bobby.

"Yeah, I couldn't agree more, but what other choice do we have?" asked Dean.

"We could choose life," said Bobby.

"Bobby, whatever this is, whatever it wants, it's after me," Dean reasoned as they reached the door at the bottom. "That much we know, right?" He held the door open for the other two, and they made their way towards the parking lot. "I've got no place to hide. I can either get caught with my pants down…or we can make our stand."

Sam nodded as they reached the Impala and Chevelle. "Fine, but I still think you're crazy."

Dean shrugged as he opened the trunk and tossed his duffel in with Sam's. "We'll see."