The rest of the seance followed in a similar way. Adam chucked books and trinkets when he got mad and was generally unhelpful. All he would admit to is he had gotten himself out of the cage, though whether not it was true was the real question.

Adam was a nineteen year old eagle scout, how did he escape the inescapable pit that held goddamn Lucifer?

There had to be a trick to this.

Dean paced the kitchen, still agitated from trying to communicate with the stubborn brat of a pre-med student. If he hadn't put a rock-salt shotgun shell in the boy's face, Adam would probably be tormenting him right now. Dean wasn't playing games anymore. Adam had kept Sam's soul in Hell for his own personal gain, and he was going to pay for it.

"Dean," Sam said, appearing in the doorframe. "I'm not that upset about it."

"Sam, he's the reason your soul was locked in a box with the friggin' devil. I'm not just gonna sit by and pretend it didn't happen! We don't play that way!"

"Well, is it better for him to have rotted there alone until we figured out how to break him out?"

Dean didn't answer. He simply went over to the fridge and pulled out a beer as if he hadn't heard Sam at all.

Sam sighed, leaned back against the door frame and gave his older brother a look. "Really, Dean? You would have rather had him burning-"

"We're not talking about this."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Fine. What now?"

"We figure out what the hell's keeping the kid here and shoot his sorry ass back up to heaven." Dean grumbled, staring at the bottle in his hands. "He can't just be out and about, something's anchoring him here, right?"

"Yeah..."

Dean looked up. "Don't tell me you wanna keep him around!"

"I don't!" Sam said. "I know what happens to ghosts, Dean, it's just..."

"It's just what?"

"He's our brother, Dean," Sam said at last. "Maybe we should wait. At least look to see if there's a way to save him? I mean, he didn't really die this time. His body is just in the pit..."

"Not gonna happen," Dean said. "We don't have a wall to put in his mind, Sam. He's good as gone."

They brother sat in silence for a long time, contemplating the situation. Neither was really sure what to do. There were too many unanswered questions. If they did manage to get his body back, would he really just fall down brain-dead? That was Adam's soul wandering around, so why wasn't it some drooling loon? What did his body have to do with anything?

The Winchesters knew more than most people, but they had never even begun to scratch the surface on the mysteries of the world.

"We're leaving tomorrow morning," Dean said, having come to some decision without his brother's consent.

"What?" Sam asked. "Why? Where to? What's the hurry?"

"Clock's ticking. You know how ghosts are if you let them sit there and steam. We have to get Adam back to heaven before he goes berserk."

"You didn't tell me where we're going!"

"To find some answers," Dean grumbled. "There's nothing here Adam could be attached too, so we've gotta find what's grounding him."

"What? Dean, ghosts can't be too far away from whatever's grounding them, you know that! And it's not like we'd ever be able to track down everything he ever owned! It's take years!"

"Then what do you suggest!?"

"How drunk are you!?"

Their yelling was interrupted by the sound of feathers. They turned to the newly arrived angel.

"What's the problem?" Castiel asked simply.

"Where've you been, Cas?" Dean asked bitterly, taking another sip of his beer.

"Busy. What's the problem?" Castiel asked again, looking around as if he could find the answer somewhere in the setting.

"Do you remember Adam?" Sam asked.

"The vessel? Yes, why?"

"Why?" Dean said, rolling his eyes. "Maybe because he's gone batshit insane!"

"What do you mean?"

Dean furiously explained the situation to a pacing Castiel. Sam chimed in occasionally with forgotten facts, or simply to calm his older brother down. Castiel never said a word.