Sam and Dean were going through yet another tedious car ride as they "raced" to the Prophet who had sent them an urgent text message. The trip had gotten boring as hell after a while and Dean wasn't even keeping much of an eye on the road while he let his mind wander and corrected his course as necessary, such as when he sensed that the Impala was getting a little too close to other cars. Based on the constant honking he could hear behind him all the way to Ohio, he was doing something wrong. He didn't know what since he wasn't going too slow, had properly used his turn signals, and hadn't hit anybody.
With a sigh, he moved to pass a car that was going too slow for his tastes in the Fast Lane which was the Fast Lane for a reason. He crossed into the next lane over with three inches to spare, and made it back to his lane with a foot to spare as the two cars he'd left behind honked angrily behind him.
"Slug bug." Sam said before he socked Dean, nearly causing him to crash into the freeway's center divider after spotting a Volkswagen Beetle that had probably started out blue, but was several different colors thanks to the addition of a number of salvaged parts after he'd gotten sick of the "Count the Cows" game and the "Spot the Out of State License Plates" game and the "Spot the Adulterers" game.
"Don't do that." Dean said when he got the car under control. "We could've hit someone."
"So." Sam who was exceedingly bored and had spotted three-thousand five-hundred and fifty-one cows along the way before he'd gotten tired of counting the damned ruminants, spotted eight-hundred and twenty-seven out of state license plates before he'd gotten tired of counting those, and four-hundred and seventy-nine Adulterers before he got fed up with counting those replied.
Eventually the journey ended, and they reached Chuck Shurley's location. Chuck was standing in the parking lot of a reasonably nice looking hotel looking somewhat panicked.
"So, what did you want us for?" Dean asked Chuck when the pulled into a hotel parking lot which contained an unusually large number of black '67 Impalas.
"Um..." Chuck, who was looking rather freaked for some reason, said as he backed away from them slowly.
"I called you here!" a certain Sam fan said cheerfully before she ran up to molest Sam.
"Um, Becky, you might want to get your hands off of the Great Adversary before..." Chuck said weakly, continuing to back away from the brothers, looking as if he wanted to bolt toward what little safety the Hotel behind him could provide him.
"Great Adversary?" Dean asked his brother.
"Um, I started playing a MMORPG a while back, and that's my name on the game." Sam said evasively as he grabbed both of Becky Rosen's wrists in one of his large hands and held her out at arm's length.
"Works for me." Dean replied. "By the way, what's going on?"
"It's a Supernatural convention." Becky replied cheerfully from where she was trying to get loose and molest Sam once more.
"Yeah, no." Sam said, releasing her and turning back to the car.
"Good luck with that." Dean said before he too turned back to the car, hopped into the driver's seat, slammed the door before Becky could dive inside, and pulled out of the parking lot at something approaching the speed of sound.
"Dean, what are we doing at Bobby's?" Sam asked two seconds later.
"Castiel must've given us a lift." Dean replied evasively before yelling "Thanks Cas!" into empty air.
Several hours later, the Winchesters received a panicked call that was actually from Chuck this time. Apparently some real ghosts who had been inhabiting the hotel had decided to gate crash the convention and start killing attendees. Shortly after receiving the call, Dean decided to go take a short walk. Coincidentally, while Dean was taking that walk, the remains of five people who had been buried in Vermilion, Ohio were salted and burned while still lying undisturbed in their graves, and Chuck Shirley's little ghost problem rather mysteriously disappeared.
Hours before the frantic call from Chuck, when Sam and Dean first arrived at Bobby's, Bobby stormed out of the house and demanded his long awaited explanation.
"Remember Anna?" Dean asked while Sam was off in the kitchen making a sandwich after Bobby had finished yelling at him.
"Yeah." Bobby replied.
"Same thing, different angel." Dean whispered, after flicking his senses over to the kitchen to make sure Sam was still occupied with fixing lunch. "Found out what I was after I went poking at a tree. I'm still Dean though, just a little more, you know..."
Bobby sat there silently stunned. He probably should have seen something like this coming considering some of the stories John had told him when he was drunk, but then again...
If he followed his thoughts to the logical conclusion...
His thoughts abruptly slammed into something big. He'd helped raise the devil.
He'd helped raise the devil.
As he tried to wrap his mind around this little revelation, Satan walked out of his kitchen munching on a sandwich that he was in his right hand while holding an open beer in his left.
"Hey guys, what's going on?" Sam asked as he took in the serious look on Dean's face and the shell-shocked one on Bobby's.
"Nothing." Bobby said as he tried to match up the image he had of little Sammy with everything he'd heard about the Morning Star.
The funny thing was, when they were kids, if you had told him that one of the Winchester children was Lucifer, he would have picked Dean. That kid had been like Junior Healy from Problem Child when his father was away. Sam had been the quiet, mild-mannered, studious one who minded him.