The song here is "Let It Go" by Cherri Bomb

Let It Go

Dean was woken by his brother smacking his feet and shoving an iPhone in his face. He had to blink several times and even push Sam back so he could sit up and rub his eyes. Then Sam turned on the light and showed him the phone. Dean snapped and grabbed it, having enough of the damned thing being shoved in his face.

"What am I supposed to be looking at?" he asked his annoying brother.

"I put a tracking device in Gadreel's phone and on Anne's car." Sam said and Dean looked up at his brother, almost not recognizing him.

"What?" he asked, thinking maybe he heard wrong.

"As a precaution." Sam said and took back the phone, ignoring his brother's confused expression. "They left and you can bet what they're up to." He added and when Dean glanced at the phone, he clenched his jaw. He didn't really have to see a large red dot on the map to know. It was all they were trying to do. They lost track of time that they spent trying to contact Crowley.

Although, looking at that map on the iPhone, he knew the highway and the only place down that road was a bar named "The Devil's Alley". The name was like Crowley's dark and haunting laughter in their face.

"Crowley." Dean said with loathe and Sam nodded.

"If we hurry, we might get there in time." he said and Dean grunted as he swung his legs out of bed, then following his brother out into the halls of the Men of Letters' bunker. They quickly gathered some things and got into the Impala, roaring the beauty to life and leaving home as quickly as they could to catch up the couple.

Dean should have known this was going to happen. They let them and their hopes into their home and tried to help without breaking her heart. But all of this is because Gadreel probably told her that they wouldn't help her and he probably allowed her to make arrangements with the bastard King of Hell. Did he know what he was getting her into? What does he know of Hell? Of Crowley? He was locked up in Heaven for centuries. He missed the whole bit where Crowley manipulated everyone to get what he wanted for the last five years. There was no one that Crowley would spare from his plans.

Now on the highway, the car whizzed by and Sam, although he didn't care what speed his brother was going at, leaned over slightly to look at the speedometer. They were clearly over the legal driving limit, at a reckless point. Still, he wouldn't question it. They needed to get there in time, at least.

"What was she thinking?" Dean finally asked and Sam remained silent. It was a question often asked in the hunter's world. Yes, it was a suicidal decision, but getting back the one you love was completely understandable. Sam would know. Their family history was nothing but making deals to get back those loved ones. It was a sort of Winchester tradition, sad to say.

"As long as we get there in time." Sam said and Dean clutched the steering wheel tighter.

"And what if we don't?" Dean asked and both remained silent. There was a great possibility that they'd be too late and Anne's soul would belong to Hell. They would have to scrap their plan to get back the souls of Heaven and concentrate on getting Crowley to release her soul.

The problem was still the same: no leverage. They would still have nothing that Crowley would want.

They were soon halfway there and the closer they got, the faster their hearts pounded in their chests. They didn't want to say it out loud, but having Anne come to them with her story resonated with their own and they didn't want her to follow their path. But it seemed no matter their efforts, she was going down that dark road and Crowley was gladly going to welcome her.

The bastard.

It seemed no matter their efforts, they were damned if they do, damned if they don't.

The Winchester tradition.