The Impala thundered down I-29. Dean clutched the wheel with one hand, the other scratching his chin as he thought. "Hey, Sam. Back in the hotel you said this would be 'one less demon,' but I thought we were hunting a tulpa."

Sam gave a half-smile "I suggested a tulpa, yeah, but that doesn't mean I think it is one."

"So what makes you so sure it's a demon? I don't remember them ever being big into the glee club."

His brother's hand went to the back of his head. "I don't know, it just doesn't seem like one, you know? I mean, when was the last time they started appearing in people's dreams?"

"We've only ever fought the one. And we didn't even kill it; not for sure. Other than the legend of those dudes in Tibet, I haven't ever heard of an actual tulpa terrorizing people in their sleep."

Sam gave a small grin. "Dean, a week ago you would have sworn up and down that angels didn't exist, and now you've spoken to one-twice."

Dean shrugged, frowning faintly.

"I just don't think we should rule out this thing being a demon, that's all."

"No, I get it." He said, focusing on the road. "At least demons are easier to kill."

Later that night, the boys stopped at yet another motel. When it seemed like Dean had fallen asleep, Sam slipped quietly out the door, the latch clicking faintly behind him.

Dean opened his eyes with a scowl, getting up to peek out the window. Sam walked hurriedly through the parking lot, turned a corner and was gone. His brother pulled out his cellphone, clicking through his contacts with a frown.

Two-hundred miles away in Sioux Falls, Bobby Singer brushed a stack of papers aside and picked up his ringing phone. He looked at the name before answering. "Hey, Dean; not like you to burn the midnight oil. What's up?"

"It's Sam, Bobby." Dean stepped away from the window. "When is it not?" He shook his head, "He's still trying to help his old friends, I think. It's gonna get him in trouble again."

Bobby poured scotch into a coffee mug. "What, are you jealous, princess?" He set the bottle down, taking a swig. "So he's got friends; so what? You've got friends too, but he doesn't come boo-hooing to me every time you give them a hand."

Dean gave an unamused look to the empty room. "My friends are hunters, Bobby. Sam's are frat boys and co-ed's. They're never ready for what we do."

Bobby sighed, sitting in his chair. The fireplace smoldered behind him, the single log all but cinders. "I don't think you'd call me up just to whine about your brother, Dean. What's really going on?"

Dean sat down on the bed. "I need some info on this case you sent us. Sam and I can't agree on what it is, and he's too set on demons."

Bobby sat up in his chair, a confused look on his face. "What case? I haven't sent you idjits anything since we took down those ghosts. I figured you'd have your plate full, what with trying to figure out the Apocalypse and all."

Dean scowled darkly. "So who gave us the case?"

"Probably Sam's friend."

"He said her name was Caroline." Sam's laptop flickered to life as Dean opened it. "Caroline Merchant. Ring a bell?"

"Yeah, she's a local girl-" Bobby trailed off as a knock came at his door. "Dean, I'm gonna have to call you back." He hung the phone up, rising to head for the door. As a precaution, he grabbed a revolver off his desk, holding it just out of sight behind his waist.

The old hunter opened his door. Rain fell softly outside. His porch light lit up just a small area of his doorway, but enough for him to see the drenched brunette on his front step.

"Are you Bobby Singer?" She asked, shivering. "My name's Caroline, and I need your help."

Bobby pushed open the screen door, tucking his handgun into his waistband. "Balls."

Sam walked down a dark alley, one hand constantly on the hilt of the knife in his coat.

"I hope you're not planning on using that, Sam."

A young woman with long black, slightly curled hair stepped from the shadows, smirking at the Winchester. "Maybe your brother's decided to get rid of me, now that he's back. I wasn't much help after Lilith kicked me from the blonde, after all."

Sam gave a hard swallow, relaxing a little bit. "Dean doesn't know I'm here." A small smile crept to Ruby's lips. "Have you found anything else about this Merchant woman?"

The demon's eyebrows lifted with bad news. "Turns out your bluff wasn't exactly a bluff."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"She just showed up at Singer's door, asking him for help."

Panic spread across Sam's face. "What the hell, Ruby? I thought you were supposed to keep her away from all this, at least until we figure out who this demon is."

Ruby backed off a step, nervousness lining her voice. "Take it easy, Sam, it's okay. You had to have seen this coming—I mean, dropping Bobby's name was bound to lead to trouble if Dean calls him for help. This way the old man at least knows who you two are trying to help."

"But he didn't give us the case. You did."

"And?" Ruby scoffed. "Just tell Dean that it was a vision, or pretend like it was. If he doesn't know about me, then you're doing a pretty good job covering your tracks."

Sam's mouth set in a hard line, his shoulders tensing as he bristled. "Should I be hiding this from him, Ruby? We are doing a good thing here, right?"

Ruby sighed, laying a hand on Sam's arm. "Yes, Sam, we are. I told you; I'm not exactly Dean's favorite person, or even his favorite thing right now. Especially with an angel perched on his shoulder. It's better this way."

Sam gave a wry, suspicious smirk. "Yeah, if you say so. Anything new on this demon? It's not like them to play Hollywood this far."

Ruby laughed. "You'd be surprised; how else do you think McConaughey is able to keep getting work?" Her humor sloped off as Sam gave an unimpressed look. "No, nothing new. All I know is that he's fairly powerful, has some very powerful friends, and wants Dean back in Hell."

"What about the Apocalypse? If he's not on your team, he must want that to happen. Why put Dean back in Hell?"

Ruby shrugged. "I'm not sure Sam. Not all demons are one side of the fence or the other. Some just want to burn the fence down and have their own fun. Maybe he's one of those."

Sam's eyebrows twitched in agreement. "Yeah, if he's playing out movies he's certainly on the right track for that."

The demon woman gave his arm a squeeze. "Don't worry so much. Just lean on the 'psychic' excuse, maybe throw in some moody melodrama; Dean'll leave it alone, I promise."