CHAPTER 12

Waiting in the house wasn't any better than waiting in the car had been.

It was about one o'clock, and the demons still hadn't come. Not that that was really surprising – they still had another eleven hours left in the day – but Dean had been hoping that Azazel would come sometime earlier than this, so that they wouldn't be stuck waiting for so many freakin' hours. Of course they should've known that the demon wouldn't be so considerate.

They'd already laid down a circle of salt in the center of the living room, ready for Lily to jump into at a moment's notice (she'd flatly refused to spend the entire day sitting in the center of it). Beyond that, they'd decided against any other barricades. The last thing they wanted was to do anything to warn Azazel that they were here, and salt lines around the foundation would be a definite giveaway. Lily had looked a little nervous when they'd made that decision, though the moment that Sam had offered to slap down some devil's traps, she'd shaken her head. "Do whatever will give you the best chance of killing this bastard," she'd said, her voice just a little too intense to be talking about the death of some demon she hadn't even known about before today. Dean hadn't asked, but he'd side-eyed her the past few hours that they'd been waiting, trying to figure out what her deal was.

He doubted that any of them would be able to figure it out, though. She looked like she would be flip out if any of them said a single word to her.

She'd spent the entire morning curled up with a book in her lap, looking like she was trying way too hard to act natural, even though Dean saw her glance up at the four of them every couple of seconds. Not that she ever said a word to them in all this time that they were waiting, but she definitely wasn't doing as good a job of ignoring them as she was trying to pretend that she was.

Now, though, she suddenly tossed the book aside and jumped to her feet. "I'm going to make something for lunch," she said, then frowned and added, "I guess I'll throw something together for you all, too."

Well, wasn't that nice of her. "Sounds like a plan," Dean said, and he and Sam both pushed to their feet, ready to follow her into the kitchen.

Lily, though, shook her head at them the moment that she saw them move.

"No," she said quickly. "It's weird enough that you guys are just sitting around my house. You're not going to trail behind me everywhere I go, too."

Sam frowned. "You can't go anywhere alone," he protested. "When Azazel-"

She scowled. "Yeah, yeah, the demon's gonna come for me, I need a knight in shining armor to follow me everywhere that I go, I get it," she said, then sighed and gestured him to follow her. "Okay, fine, but just you. The rest of your posse stays here."

Sam hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Okay, that sounds fair, I guess," he said. Lily spun on her heels and left without another word, and without waiting for anyone else to comment, and Sam was quick to follow behind her, leaving Dean, Cas, and John alone in the living room.

Oh, god, that was going to end well.

Dean didn't know what to do, so he wandered over to stare at the row of photographs on the mantle, trying to act like being alone with his boyfriend and his dad wasn't at all uncomfortable. He was damn sure that he wasn't doing a good job, but whatever, that didn't mean that he was going to stop trying to fake it.

The photos were mostly of Lily and one other girl, who couldn't have been more than a couple years older, and looked enough like Lily that Dean figured that she had to be a sister. There were all sorts of pictures of the two of them, ranging from some pretty cute ones of them as kids in matching princess costumes, to one of the two of them posing at what had to be the sister's wedding, considering that she was dressed in this gigantic wedding dress like something out of a celebrity wedding – Dean didn't think anyone wore stuff that puffy and huge in real life. That one had definitely been taken after Lily's powers had kicked in. For one, Lily looked exactly the same as she did now, so it had to be a recent picture. And more than that, pretty much all of the pictures showed Lily and her sister grinning and standing arm in arm. In this one, Lily had on a long-sleeved jacket and gloves, and was standing at least three feet away, a scowl etched onto her face.

Dean grimaced, and quickly turned away from that one. They were here to focus on killing the demon – the last thing that he needed was to get wrapped up in thinking about how much this power must've made her life suck.

Of course, the other pictures weren't exactly good for thinking happy thoughts. Sure, some of them looked pretty sweet, like one of Lily as a little girl, tackle hugging some other little girl, both of them looking like they were seconds away from collapsing to the ground together. And there was another one a few pictures down, Lily and the same girl. They were older in this one, all dressed up in what Dean was pretty certain were prom dresses, hugging each other just as tight, the other girl planting a kiss on Lily's cheek.

The pictures were weird, though. Because it wasn't like he knew Lily all that well, but just in what he'd seen of her that morning, it was hard to picture her ever smiling about anything, let alone looking as happy as she did in these pictures. And that's when Dean decided that he'd better step away from the mantle and find some other way to keep himself entertained for the rest of the wait, otherwise this was just going to get depressing.

It wasn't like there was anything else for him to do, though, except circle the room and try to make himself interested in the paintings on the walls. The TV and radio were both playing in the background, just loud enough that they'd be able to hear it if it turned to static, but neither of them were playing anything good. And he could try talking, but honestly, he figured that the fact that Dad and Cas were both sitting in silence was the best that he was going to get. He wasn't about to risk jeopardizing that and having this turn into an all-out fight. But that meant that there really wasn't anything to do while they waited, except try to plan out their fighting strategy for when Azazel finally showed up.

All in all, it was almost a relief when he felt his cell phone ring about twenty minutes after Lily and Sam had headed off together. Of course, then he took one look at the caller ID, and all of his relief drained away.

He hadn't bothered to put Amelia's number into his phone, but he still recognized it the moment that he saw it.

Immediately, he turned and looked over at Cas, his finger hovering over the "end call" button. Because he still remembered what Cas had said last time that Amelia had called, and he was damn sure that it still applied. Cas wasn't her husband, he couldn't give her what she wanted, talking to her would only cause pain, all of that. And he was right. They'd decided not to talk to her, and Dean was sure that it was the best decision. So he nodded to himself, and shoved his phone back into his pocket.

Apparently he enjoyed torturing himself, though, because he barely made it another two minutes before he pulled out his phone to check it again.

She'd left him a voicemail. Dean scowled, his hand clenching around the phone. And it was so obvious that he was going to regret this later – it wasn't even up for debate, he just knew it – but he clicked the button to play it, then raised the phone to his ear.

"Dean?" Amelia said, and Dean wasn't entirely sure what he was hearing in her voice, whether it was anger or sadness or fear or some twisted combination of the three. Whatever it was, there was definitely a lot of it when she continued, "I know that you have to know something about what happened to Jimmy. You disappeared the same day that he did- You haven't done anything to look for him, even though you'd come to visit him in the hospital- Just call me back right now. Seriously, anything you know, just call me back and tell me, alright? You owe me that much." The voicemail ended there, and Dean swallowed hard before returning his phone to his pocket.

Amelia had a point, as much as he hated to admit it. He did know something about where her husband was. And she was right about something else, too – considering that Cas had stolen her husband's body, unintentionally or not, it did mean that they pretty much owed her.

"Dean?" Cas asked, standing and taking a step toward Dean. He reached out and laid one hand against Dean's shoulder. "Is everything alright?"

Dean's first instinct was to say that yup, everything was grand. Then he frowned, and thought better of it. "Let's go," he said, grabbed Cas by the sleeve of his trench coat and yanking him out of the living room. He didn't head for the kitchen, since that was where Lily and Sam still were, so instead, the two of them ended up in this fancy dining room, the kind of room that looked way too nice for anyone to ever eat in it. Whatever. It would serve their purpose, and at least it was somewhat private.

"Dean?" Cas asked, frowning. "What happened?"

Dean thought about trying to explain the message, but that seemed like too much work. Instead, he just pulled out his phone and set the voicemail up to play again, then handed it over to Cas so that he could hear for himself.

A frown slowly formed on Cas' face as he listened to the message. When it was over, he lowered the phone and handed it back to Dean, but didn't say anything for another moment.

"She isn't going to believe us if we tell her the truth," Cas finally said. "Perhaps if I still had my angel powers, then we could convince her that her husband is gone. As it is, we aren't going to be able to explain ourselves."

"Yeah, I know," Dean said, shoving the phone back into his pocket and shrugging. "I just thought, you're the one who's wearing her husband. You should at least know that she's still calling me."

"Thank you," Cas said, though he sounded too upset to be actually grateful, even though Dean knew that he meant it. And shit, maybe Dean had been wrong about having him listen to the message, after all. Especially if it was just going to make him feel worse about not being able to do anything.

"So, what's the plan?" Dean asked after a moment, because whether or not he should've told Cas, the guy already knew about it. That meant it was probably his place to decide what he wanted to do about it.

Cas opened his mouth, then closed it, then finally said, "I don't believe that there's anything that we can do. The best solution would be to avoid complicating their lives further. As I told you before, I know that leaving them without answers is going to be painful for them, but speaking to them will only make it worse." His frown deepened, and he added, "I suppose that you should continue to not answer."

Dean nodded. "This is my third cell phone," he said. "It's the one that I don't use as often as the other two. I could just get rid of it. Then she won't have any way of reaching me." The words left a sour taste in his mouth, but like Cas had said, what else could they do? It wasn't like Jimmy was ever coming back – and Dean was sick enough to be grateful for that, since it meant that Cas was going to stick around. But if they couldn't help them, then what else was there to do?

"I still plan on finding a way to repay them," Cas added. If he had any idea how he was going to do this, he didn't say, but he squared his shoulders and looked pretty determined.

"Good idea," Dean said. He patted his pocket where the phone was, then nodded again. "Okay, I'll toss the phone as soon as we're done here, and you keep working on your big repayment plan. In the meantime, we should go check on Sam and Lily." It wasn't like they could've been taken without the three of them knowing – no matter how strong or how sneaky Azazel was, Sam was a hell of a good hunter, and he'd at least be able to put up a fight. Plus, the fact that all of Ansen's roommates had been murdered on the day that he and Andy had gone missing made Dean think that the kidnappings weren't exactly sneaky. Still, though, it was making him antsy to be away from Sam for so long. He didn't usually like to hover over his brother like some paranoid idiot, but leaving him alone when they knew that the demon would be here soon was just stupid.

Cas nodded, but his face was distant, like he was still thinking about Amelia. Dean didn't try to break his concentration, just grabbed his elbow and led him out of the room.

Dean spent the entire day expecting an explosion. What kind, he wasn't entirely sure. It could be a metaphorical one when Sam or Dad or both finally lost hold of their tempers. Or it could come from Lily, who still didn't look like she was happy about having them around, even if she'd relaxed a little after she and Sam had come out of the kitchen to tell them lunch was ready. Or hell, maybe it'd even be a literal explosion – after all, Azazel definitely seemed like the kind of dramatic bastard who'd want to break in with a bang. Whatever way, Dean was sure that something huge was going to happen any second.

And for most of the day, he'd been proven wrong.

Dad had barely said a word this whole day, mainly pacing around the room with one hand on the Colt, looking like he was too focused to even think about anything else. Sam looked like he was making a point of not even glancing in Dad's direction, and alternated between talking with Lily – Dean never actually heard what they were saying – and discussing more angel lore with Cas in a low voice, though Dean wasn't entirely sure what there was left to say at this point. Lily's family had some books on the shelves, and sometimes they got bored enough to take a look through them, though Dean's one attempt at reading one of them barely lasted ten minutes before he tossed it to the side. Don't get him wrong, he loved McCarthy and all, but he was jumpy enough that he had to read each page three times before he managed to absorb any of the meaning. Besides, a story about an apocalyptic wasteland seemed just a little too relevant for him to actually enjoy it.

But they managed to get through the day without any disasters, whether literal or self made. Now, though, it was eleven fifty-five, meaning that there was no time left. Five minutes or less, and Azazel would be here.

"Maybe you got the wrong person?" Lily suggested, breaking the silence that had fallen over the five of them. She was sitting in the circle of salt now, clutching tight to an iron fire poker that she had chosen as her weapon of choice for when the demons came. "Maybe it's not actually my turn to be stolen? You could have miscalculated?"

"No," Sam said. He was holding his gun in front of him with both hands. It was fully loaded with salt rounds, ready to fire at any demon who came their way, and there was an iron dagger on the table beside him, where he could grab it easy if he needed it. "I checked the dates about three times. You're definitely next in line." He paused, then added, "Dad wasn't working with us when we figured this out, and he still chose you as the next victim. We're definitely right about this."

"Oh," Lily said, and clung tighter to the poker, her face perfectly impassive, like that was supposed to hide the fact that she was obviously terrified.

Dean glanced over at the clock on the wall. Three minutes until midnight. Clearly Azazel was putting this one off until the last moment. Which didn't make a whole lot of sense to Dean, considering that Lily was first in line for today, and there were usually at least a few minutes gap between each of the kidnappings. Maybe Azazel was changing things up, though, and planned on just grabbing all the kids at once. Or maybe he was running behind schedule, for whatever reason.

Dad had the Colt in his hands, safety off and finger on the trigger. Cas was twirling his iron knife almost absently, like he didn't even realize what his hands were doing, and instead of looking at Lily like the rest of them were, his eyes were firmly locked on Dean. On the TV, some wacky dad was trying to convince his kids that he was still "cool", not a hint of static to be seen.

One minute left.

"Oh god oh god oh god," Lily breathed, like a never-ending litany. She squeezed her eyes closed, both hands tight on the poker.

Dean had the angel blade ready. If any of those hellhound bitches tried to harm any of them – especially Sammy – he was ready and waiting to take them down. As soon as they showed up-

Midnight.

None of them moved, except for Lily. She wasn't speaking any longer, but her lips still soundlessly mouthed the words. Besides that, all of them were still.

Sixty seconds passed, and the clock ticked to twelve-oh-one.

"Could the clock be incorrect?" Cas asked, frowning up at it like it had done him some great personal wrong. "Maybe it is still July 6, even if that clock says otherwise?"

"Or the wrong time zone?" Dean suggested. "Maybe the demons somehow got stuck on Pacific time?"

Sam, though, shook his head. "That's never been an issue before," he said. "I accounted for the different time zones when I worked all of this out, and the kidnappings always happened on the same day in every time zone. I don't know why he'd change that now."

"Yeah, well, I also don't know why he wouldn't show up this time," Dean countered. "You have an explanation for that?"

Lily opened her eyes, and frowned up at them. "Maybe he knows that you were here," she suggested slowly, "and decided that it wasn't worth it to come take me while I had you guys protecting me? I mean, he's got to know that you want him dead. Could be that he doesn't want to take that risk."

Okay, that one actually sounded plausible. Cas, though, immediately shook his head. "Doubtful," he said, which was the exact opposite of what Dean had been thinking. But Cas continued, "Azazel wants us too badly, and he has too many demons at his disposal. If he knew that we were here, it's entirely possible that he would choose not to come himself, but he would still send his followers to kidnap you and Sam, and to kill-" He broke off, and glanced at Dean for just a moment. Then he frowned, and finished "-the rest of us."

"So then," Lily said, still frowning, "what does this mean?"

This time, it was Dad who answered, speaking for the first time in Dean didn't even know how many hours.

"It means that the plan has changed," Dad said. He clicked the safety onto the Colt, but didn't put it back into his pocket, not yet. "Azazel's doing something differently, and we need to figure out what it is."

They ended up leaving Lily's house a few hours later. Dean hadn't wanted to stick around for that long, but it was a necessary precaution – they needed to be absolutely certain that Azazel wasn't going to be coming just a few hours later. By four AM, though, it seemed obvious that no demons were on their way. So they taught her how to draw a devil's trap, made sure that she had all of their numbers entered into her phone, and left her an extra bag of salt before they hit the road.

It was lucky that the motel was so close, because Dean was absolutely exhausted. He practically stumbled out of the car, and now that the adrenaline from thinking that Azazel was on his way had worn off, he was ready to collapse anywhere he could, he didn't even care if it was a bed or not.

Except that Sam practically ran for his motel room the moment that they arrived, saying something about wanting to get some research done. Which was clearly a sign that Sam was utterly insane – it was almost five in the morning, what the hell was he thinking? But if whatever Sam was doing was important enough to stay awake for, then Dean figured that he could at least up long enough to hear what it was.

That had been about twenty minutes ago. Dean slumped in one of the chairs in Sam's motel room, propping his head up on one hand and watching Dad and Sam work through half-closed eyes. Both of them were typing furiously on their laptops, not slowing down except to read through some research thing or whatever, never even glancing up from their screens. And Dean swore, this was the only time when they two of them even got close to getting along – when they were both too lost in research to even think about the fact that the other person was sitting across from them.

Cas hadn't bothered to even try to stay up and wait to hear when the other two found. The moment that they'd made it into the motel room, he'd collapsed onto Sam's bed and started snoring away, the lucky bastard. And Dean was pretty sure that he wasn't going to last that long without doing the same thing. Because as much as he wanted to wait to hear what they discovered, it also looked like neither of them were going to call it quits anytime soon. Which was ridiculous – Sam had grabbed maybe three hours of uncomfortable sleep in the back of the Impala, and Dad hadn't even slept at all. By all accounts, they should be exhausted, not lost in some crazy research frenzy like this.

No sooner had Dean thought that that Dad grumbled to himself and pushed his laptop away. "Can't find anything useful now," he said. "I'll check back later today, after I've gotten the chance to sleep on it." He stood and grabbed her duffel bag – he'd brought it in from the truck so that he could use the spare single in Sam's room, because that would definitely end well – and threw it over his shoulder, then headed off to the bathroom.

"You should probably head to bed, too," Dean added to Sam. God knew that that was definitely what Dean was going to do next. Honestly, he was starting to regret that he hadn't just let himself collapse as soon as he'd gotten in here. It didn't look like they'd be learning anything good tonight.

Sam yawned and took a moment to rub his eyes, but he shook his head stubbornly. "Just give me a few more minutes," he said. "I want to check out something else."

Dean snorted. "You can do whatever the hell you want, I'm not going to stop you," Dean said. "But if you're wiped tomorrow, it's going to be your own damn fault."

Sam nodded absently, and immediately turned his eyes back to his screen.

Dad came out of the bathroom a minute later, dressed in the sweats and tee shirt he used for sleeping. "You coming to bed?" he asked Sam.

Sam frowned, but nodded reluctantly. "In a minute," he said, then glance over to the side, his frown deepening as he added. "If Dean can drag Cas off of my bed, that is."

Any other time, Dean would have laughed at how utterly put out Sam looked by the fact that Cas had stolen his bed. Now, though, he just glanced over at Dad for a moment, and nodded. "Yeah, I'll drag him back over to our room."

Sam just nodded absently, and clicked something else on his laptop.

Dean took another look at Dad. He was currently folding his dirty clothes and sticking them back into his duffel, not even looking at Dean. And for some reason, Dean found himself clearing his throat. "Dad?"

Dad made a noise to make it clear that he had heard, and nodded for Dean to say more, but he still didn't look over at him.

This was bad timing. Dean knew it. They were all exhausted, it'd been a long day, Sam and Cas were in the room- Name pretty much anything about their situation, and Dean was pretty sure that it'd be considered a good reason not to say anything else about this now. Apparently his mouth didn't get the memo that his brain was sending out, though, because Dean took a deep breath. "Back when I was in the hospital," he said slowly, "we you planning on selling your soul to Azazel to save me?"

Dad stiffened immediately. So did Sam, immediately lifting his head to stare over the top of his laptop, toward Dean and Dad.

"Who told you about that?" Dad demanded after a moment, voice sharp.

Dean cleared his throat again, and said, "Cas did." And, well, maybe that would at least help to clear up Dad's doubts about whether Cas was really an angel. So that was one good thing that had come out of this, at least. Although, judging by the way that Dad was scowling, it was also the only good thing.

Dad nodded, but his mouth was pressed together into a thin line, displeasure written into all of his features. "I'm not having this conversation with you right now, Dean."

"Why not?" Sam asked, and Dean had to hold back a groan. But Sam actually managed to not sound completely pissed as he added, "I want to know the same thing, actually. If you weren't going to let Dean die to save the demon, why did you let me think that you were?"

Dad narrowed his eyes. "I never told you that I was trying to kill Azazel when I summoned him," he said. "You decided that on your own, it had nothing to do with me."

Sam stood, and shook his head. "But you knew that I was thinking it," he insisted. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because it isn't your place," he snapped. "It still isn't. Jesus Christ, Sam, when I told you two to leave the motel, you weren't supposed to keep working this hunt on your own, and you definitely weren't supposed to actually figure anything out."

"What did you expect us to do?" Sam asked, voice rising slightly. "This affects all of us, Dad. All of us want to see Azazel dead. All of us want to get vengeance."

"Alright, alright, that's enough," Dean said quickly, stepping between them and raising his hands. He had enough experience to know that it probably wasn't going to do any good, not when the two of them were so insistent on starting a fight, but he had to try, at least.

Dad looked at Dean for a long moment, then shook his head. "I'm going to bed," he grumbled, grabbing his duffel off his bed and tossing it into the corner of the room. "If you and Cas are sharing, then you should grab him and get him out of here. I want us all to get some sleep now so that we can spend tomorrow figuring out what the hell Azazel is doing now."

Dean nodded quickly. "Yeah, okay," he said, then headed over and shook Cas' shoulder. "Come on, buddy, let's go." Cas grumbled and buried his face into the blankets, and Dean couldn't help but smile as he gave Cas another shake. "Seriously, man, rise and shine. Sam's not going to be happy if you stay passed out in his bed all night."

Cas shook his head, not opening his eyes. "Then you should sleep here with me," Cas mumbled, and lifted one hand just enough to grab Dean's wrist. "Sam can have our bed."

Dean smiled again, then glanced over at Dad, feeling the grin slip off of his face. Okay, so Dad obviously knew that Dean and Cas were going to be sharing a bed, but having Dad be aware of it and having Cas confirm it in front of him like that… yeah, the second one was much more awkward.

"Just get up," Dean said gruffly. "You can collapse again as soon as we're back in our room."

Cas groaned but nodded, pushing himself up and rubbing his eyes with his fist. "I'm up," he mumbled, though he looked more like he was sleepwalking than anything else.

"Talk to you in the afternoon?" Dean said, glancing over at Sam as he and Cas headed for the door.

"If Dad and I don't kill each other before then," Sam replied in a low voice, one that was hopefully quiet enough that Dad wouldn't be able to hear it.

Dean nodded, and pushed open the door, leading Cas out toward their room. He just had to hope that this room would still be standing when he came back later. Knowing Dad and Sam, he wouldn't be surprised if they somehow found a way to burn it to the ground by the time that Dean returned to stop them.

Dean texted Sam after he'd woken up, saying that he and Cas would go down and grab them all something to eat before they got to work. Sam never texted back, which Dean took as a sign that he was either still asleep, or he was so lost in his computer that he wouldn't even notice if Dean poured his breakfast down the back of his shirt. Either way, Dean took it as a confirmation that he should just go grab them some food.

It was nearly five that afternoon by the time that Dean and Cas pushed open the door to Dad and Sam's motel room, which was – miraculously – still in one piece. Unsurprisingly, Sam and Dad were already at work doing their own research, which was probably the whole reason why nothing had been destroyed yet. Sam looked up the moment that they walked in, though, and grinned. "Oh, thank god. I'm starving. Took you two long enough to get here."

"Hey, if you wanted something faster, then you should've gotten it yourself," Dean said, and handed Sam his container. He pulled out a second container and set it next to Dad, who didn't glance up long enough to acknowledge him, then he and Cas settled on the end of Sam's bed with their own food. "So," Dean said, in between a giant bite of his burger, "what have you got?"

Sam wrinkled his nose at him. "First of all, chew your food before you try to talk," he said, making Dean roll his eyes. Sam continued, "And it wasn't just Lily who hadn't been taken last night. None of the next victims were. Or-" He paused, glancing at his laptop with a frown, then amended, "Enough time has passed that there should be some sign of it online if they had gone missing, but I haven't been able to find anything about any of the other three names."

"Great," Dean said. "So, basically, we have no idea what's going on, and no leads. That's fantastic."

"Basically," Sam said, then reached over and spun his computer to face Dean, who leaned forward, trying to read the small type without having to move. He couldn't see most of it well enough to tell what it said, but he could definitely read the headline, at least: LOCAL BOY KILLED BY MYSTERY ASSAILANT. "I started plugging some of the other psychics' names into Google, just to see what would come up," Sam explained.

"I take it that this boy was a psychic, then?" Cas asked, squinting at the screen like that would help him to see the small type better.

"Scott Carey," Sam confirmed with a nod. Which didn't mean a whole lot to Dean, though he did get the vague feeling that he'd seen the name before. Probably from all of the time that he'd spent reading over that list of psychics. "He was murdered sometime last night, in the middle of a parking lot. Nobody knows who did it – his body wasn't found until hours after it happened. And he's not the first, either."

"Of course he wasn't," Dean muttered, then took another bite and nodded for Sam to continue.

"Three more of the psychics have been murdered in the past month, and that's just those that I know about," Sam said, and tapped the paper on the table beside him. And Dean might not be close enough to actually get a good look at it, but he still recognized it as the list of all of the psychics. "I haven't gotten through the entire list yet. There's a chance that more of them could have been killed. It looks like Scott was definitely the most recent, though."

"Well, okay, then. Better than nothing," Dean said, shoving the last of his burger into his mouth – chewing it up and swallowing quickly to keep Sam from bitching at him again – then adding, "And definitely better than sitting around on our asses. Where was this murder, exactly?"

Sam checked the screen quick. "Lafayette, Illinois."

Dean snorted. "Well, at least it won't be a long drive." And at least it was far enough from where Cas had been found that they wouldn't risk running into anyone who might recognize him. Seriously, though, Dean had thought that he'd be done with Illinois, at least for a while. He wasn't exactly looking forward to heading back there.

Now, finally, Dad looked up from his screen. "Okay, then," he said, and stood. "I'm going to head down to Lafayette, then, see what I can find about this Carey guy's death. You guys stay here and see if you can learn anything else about what Azazel is up to."

Dean immediately frowned, and Sam shook his head. "We're not staying behind," Sam said.

Dad's eyes narrowed. "I thought I made this clear enough last night," he said. "You boys were never supposed to stay involved with this. We're not working together, not again. And considering that the last time you insisted on joining this hunt it ended with your brother nearly dying, you shouldn't be so eager to jump back into this."

Sam's hands clenched. "I'm not," he said, voice tight. "But I'm also not going to sit on the sidelines and wait for Azazel to come for me. I'm in this now, and if you don't want to work this case together, then that's fine by me, but it just means that the three of us will go investigate on our own." He turned his head to the side, glancing over at Dean like he was expecting Dean to back him up.

Dean's stomach clenched, and he cleared his throat. "This might not have anything to do with Azazel," he pointed out. "It wouldn't make sense for the demons to start killing the psychics out of nowhere. So I say that we all head down and take a look around, get this one case figured out. And afterward, if we catch wind of where Azazel could be, then we could... reevaluate."

Both Sam and Dad were scowling, so he got the feeling that his compromise had pleased neither of them. But slowly, Dad nodded, and Sam reluctantly followed suit.

"Five minutes," Dad said, turning and stalking off toward the bathroom. "That's when we leave, and not a second after. I'm not going to wait for you if you three decide to hold me back." Then he slammed the door behind him, leaving the three of them alone in the room.

For a moment, none of them spoke. Then Cas cleared his throat, and stood. "Let's go pack."

Dean and Cas moved around their motel room, grabbing their things and packing them away so that they could get ready to set off to investigate the death. Really, it shouldn't take them that long. Dean honestly wasn't sure how his stuff had gotten so scattered, considering that they'd only been in this motel for two days, and way more than half of that time had been spent on the stakeout. Not to mention that he still didn't have a whole lot of clothes left to make a mess of. Somehow, though, his few remaining items had gotten thrown around more than he'd intended.

Still, though, it didn't take more than a couple minutes to track everything down and shove it into his bag. Then he glanced over at Cas.

He and Cas were still sharing clothes, so Cas really hadn't had anything to pack. Which was good, because instead of helping, he was sitting on the edge of the bed, not moving. His head was lowered far enough that Dean couldn't get a good look at his face, but he was pretty sure that Cas' eyes were closed.

Dean cleared his throat and walked over, putting one hand on Cas' shoulder. "You okay?"

Cas nodded and opened his eyes. "I was just thinking," he said. "Or, praying, actually."

"I thought that praying wasn't allowed?" Dean asked, frowning. "That it'd bring the angels down on us, or whatever?"

"Don't worry," Cas said quickly. "I would never do anything to put you or Sam in danger, I can promise you that."

Dean was still frowning, but he slowly nodded, acknowledging that. He'd kinda figured that Cas would know these things better than he did, so all he said was, "So then, what are you praying about?"

Cas was silent for a moment before he finally answered. "I'm worried about what could be happening," he admitted. "With Azazel, I mean. It's strange that he would simply give up on stealing the special children. It doesn't make sense. If he is no longer coming for them, then it must be because he has something bigger planned."

"Yeah," Dean agreed with a grimace. He couldn't say that he wasn't worried about it, too. In theory, it wasn't like Sam was in any more danger now than he had been before, since Azazel had always been planning on coming for him, and they still had the hex bags to keep that from happening. Still, though, it was freaky, not knowing what the demon could be up to. Add on the fact that the psychics were apparently getting murdered now, and even if Azazel didn't end up being the one behind it... Well, Dean figured that they had a reason to be worried.

"Seriously, though, praying?" Dean asked, raising his eyebrows. "I think we've already established that angels are dicks and we don't want their help."

Dean half expected Cas to get offended, but instead of looking upset, he just inclined his head once, acknowledging that it was true. "That is why I am praying to Hester, specifically," he said. "She will be the only one who is able to hear me, so the other angels will not be able to find us. But I thought that she may know something, or could at least be able to help us find out. And after the way that she behaved last time, I'm under the impression that she, at the very least, will not tell the other angels of our location, even if she may not actively help us."

Okay, Dean had to admit that Cas did have a point. So he stood still for a moment, waiting, glancing around the room like she was going to just pop up out of nowhere – and honestly, she might. After a minute, though, Dean let out a huff of breath and shook his head. "She's not coming."

Cas hesitated for a moment. Then his shoulders slumped. "It does appear that way, yes," he admitted.

Dean snorted. "Figures," he said. "We know that angels exist, and we're still on our own."

Again, Cas looked almost as if he were going to argue. Then he just nodded and stood, and Dean slung the bag over his shoulder. "Come on, I think that Sam and Dad are already waiting for us outside. We should get going." Then he turned and walked out of the room without waiting for Cas to follow.

It was official – they weren't going to be able to count on the angels. Not that Dean had really thought that they'd be able to, but still, now he was sure. If they were going to figure this out, it was gonna have to be on their own.