Sam had reunited with Dean during a psychic case in Lily Dale, the most psychic town in America. They originally thought the psychics were dying because of a cursed necklace, but it turned out to be two ghost sisters. One was giving the psychics visions of their deaths and the other was killing them. After taking care of that, it happened to be Vegas week. They left Mack behind with Bobby to go take their week off like usual. While Dean hit up the casinos, Sam went on his guru nature hike like the hippie he was.

Then Dean got a text from Sam saying to meet him at some random church in Vegas and to wear his FBI threads. The whole situation was weirding Dean out, especially when Sam said he was getting married and Becky Rosen, the fangirl who was obsessed with him, walked in as the bride. That turned out to be a demon thing. The demon had given Becky a love potion to drug Sam, and was also cheating people in town out of deals early. Crowley showed up in the end to deal with the rogue demon and also told the boys he'd told his mooks to steer clear while they dealt with the Leviathans.

So, the brothers met back up with Bobby and Mack in an abandoned house in Jersey. "Daddy, I'm cold," Mack complained. "I know, bug. Give me a minute." Dean stuck his tongue out through his teeth, working by the fuse box. Sam came down the stairs, walking over to him. "Did you strip enough wire?" he asked. "Yes, I stripped enough wire," Dean growled. "Alright." Sam pushed him aside, attaching cables to the stripped wires. Electricity crackled and the lights flickered on. "See? Told you," Dean hit Sam on the arm. "Daddy," Mack whined.

He sighed, heading over to her. "I'm sorry, bug," he told her, taking off his jacket and putting it around her shoulders. "We can't get the heat on right now." Bobby came in, joining them at the table. "Well, isn't this cozy?" he quipped. "Yeah," Sam agreed. "Well, Motel 6 just ain't leaving the light on anymore."

"Well, I'm taking a page out of Frank Devereaux's Bible on this," Bobby said. "Everybody's out to get you- paranoia is just plain common sense." Dean scowled, "Weeks, guys. Weeks. We've been living with cold showers, cold Hot Pockets, cold freaking everything. I mean, this is the bottom we're living in. You guys get that, right?" Mack whimpered, pulling Dean's jacket closer around her body. "How many big mouths are out there, running card traces, like Chet, or hunting us down God knows what ways?" Bobby asked. "No, now's not the time to be laying our bed rolls out on the grid. Not if we can help it."

The lights shut back off. Sam sighed, turning on a battery powered lamp. "That's just great, " Dean grumbled. "This is stupid. Our quality of life is crap. We got Purgatory's least wanted everywhere, and we're on our third 'The World's Screwed' issue in, what, three years? We've steered the bus away from the cliff twice already." Sam looked at his brother. "Someone's gotta do it." Dean argued, "What if the bus wants to go over the cliff?" Sam blinked, "You think the world wants to end?"

"I think that if we didn't take away its belt and all its pens away each year that, yeah, the whole enchilada woulda offed itself already." Bobby frowned at him. "Stop trying to wrestle with the big picture, son. You're gonna hurt your head." Dean rolled his eyes, "C'mere, Mack." She got up, following him into another room while Sam and Bobby discussed the latest case they'd found. Father and daughter curled up together on an old bed, Dean holding her tight in an attempt to warm her up some more. "Daddy?" she asked him. "What, bug?"

"Do you really think the world wants to end?" He was quiet, pulling her closer to his body. "I don't know, Mack," he lied. It was quiet for a long time, and he thought she'd fallen asleep and then she spoke again in a timid voice. "I want Cas back." Tears sprang unexpectedly to Dean's eyes and he had to swallow in order to speak around the sudden lump in his throat. "Me too, baby girl," he whispered. "Me, too."

After investigating the woods in Pine Barrens, New Jersey to try and find the 'Jersey Devil' that was terrorizing the locals, and Ranger Rick got attacked and eaten by a humanoid creature that turned out to be a regular guy named Gerald Browder, they headed to Biggerson's. Dean ordered another Turducken Slammer, while Sam and Bobby stuck with coffee and Mack got macaroni and cheese off the kids menu. Sam was researching Gerald Brower on his laptop.

"Gerald Browder, thirty-five, self-employed," he read off. "Air-conditioning repairman. Missing person number three. Disappeared eight days ago." Bobby hummed, "Well that explains all the people who got eaten in the last eight days." Sam nodded, "Yeah. Question is, what happened to him?" He glanced over the top of the computer at Dean, who was groaning as he took big bites out of his sandwich. "Dean. Uh, so, what do you think?"

"I'm not that worried about it," Dean replied, mouth full. "Excuse me?" Bobby asked, all three other members at the table staring at Dean. "That's funny right? I could give two shakes of a rat's ass. Is that right? Do rat's shake their ass, or is it something else? Eh." Dean shrugged, going back to his Slammer. "Uncle Sammy? What's wrong with Daddy?" Mack asked, looking at her uncle. Sam was busy looking around at the other customers in the restaurant who were also having the Turducken Slammer like Dean. "Gimme that," he grabbed Dean's sandwich.

"Whoa, whoa! Why?!" Dean protested. "There's some funky chicken in the TDK Slammer, ain't there?" Bobby looked at Sam. Mack was still staring at her uncle, waiting for an explanation. "Yeah," Sam sniffed at Dean's Slammer, recoiling. They headed back to the house, Bobby setting the TDK Slammer on the table. It had been wrapped inside a tinfoil swan to-go. "This is stupid," Dean grumbled. "My sandwich didn't do anything. I don't know what you think you're gonna find."

Mack was staring from him to Sam and Bobby and back. "There's something wrong with you, Dean," Bobby stated, Sam unwrapping the sandwich. "Are you kidding? I'm fine! I- I actually feel great. The best I've felt in a couple months. Cas? Black goo? I don't care anymore. And you know what's even better? I don't care that I don't care. I just want my damn Slammer back." When he said Cas' name, Mack whimpered, moving closer to Bobby. "Dude, you're completely stoned, just like Ranger Rick was," Sam pointed out. "Just like the dinner rush back at Biggerson's," Bobby added. "And everybody's loving the Turducken."

Gray goo bubbled out of the Slammer. "I think you pissed off my sandwich," Dean said. More goo bubbled out. "That- that's in me?" Sam stammered, "O-only half of it." Bobby frowned, "Does that snot look familiar?" Mack clung to his arm, "The Leviathans." Sam and Bobby glanced down at her. "Okay, so whatever turned Gerry Browder into a pumpkin head… and is currently turning Dean into an idiot-"

"I'm right here. Right here."

"Is in the Turducken Slammer at Biggerson's," Bobby finished. "Yeah," Sam nodded. "It's in the meat." Dean blinked. "If I wasn't so chilled out right now, I would puke."

They were outside the Biggerson's warehouse, and Dean had mostly slept off the effects of the TDK drugs. Mack was currently asleep in the backseat of the car and Sam had gone to investigate the warehouse. "There's nothing happening back here at all," Sam told them via speaker phone. "Yeah, okay, Sam," Bobby replied. "Well, we're pretty dug in, so why don't you finish circling and head on back?"

"Right."

Bobby hung up, looking over at Dean. "How's your head?" he asked. "Well, I think the Slammer's pretty much wore off. In between that and the twenty cups of coffee, I'm nicely tensed and alarmed." Dean glanced into the backseat at Mack. "I hate dragging her into this." Bobby sighed, "I know… and I wasn't talkin' about the Slammer." Dean frowned, avoiding Bobby's gaze. "Oh, Bobby, don't- don't go all Sigmund Freud on me right now, okay? I just got drugged by a sandwich."

"I want to talk about your new party line," Bobby insisted. "Party? What are you talking about? I don't even vote," Dean tried to sidestep the topic. Bobby wasn't having it. "'The world's a suicide case. We save it, it just steals more pills'?" Dean swallowed, looking back again to make sure Mack was still asleep. "Bobby, I'm here, okay? I'm on the case. What's the problem?" Bobby glared over at him. "I've seen a lot of hunters live and die. You're starting to talk like one of the dead ones, Dean." Dean's eyes snapped up to meet Bobby's angrily. "No, I'm talking the way a person talks when they've had it, when they can't figure out why they used to think all this mattered."

"What about her?" Bobby asked, gesturing back at Mack. "You really gonna sit there and tell me that little girl isn't reason enough for you to keep going? To make sure there's a world for her to grow up in?" Dean was silent, not answering, but Bobby wasn't finished. "You're a hunter, son, which means you're whatever the job you're doing that day. Now, you get a case of the Anne Sextons, something's gonna come up behind you and rip your fool head off. Now, you find your reasons to get back in the game. Whether that's your daughter or spite or a ten dollar bet. I've been to enough funerals. I mean it. You die before me, and I'll kill you."

"We need to scrape some money together, get you a condo or something," Dean quipped. Before Bobby could comment further, Sam climbed into the backseat, careful not to wake Mack. "Hey, something's up," he told them. Two black vehicles pulled up as Edgar and Dr. Gaines came out of the building. A tall, skinny man in a nice suit got out of the second vehicle. "Well, I'll be a squirrel in a skirt," Bobby gaped. "It's Dick frigging Roman." Dean furrowed his brow in confusion. "What? Who the hell is Dick frigging Roman?"

Bobby and Sam switched places, and Sam pulled up a clip of a press interview with billionaire Dick Roman. The headline along the bottom of the screen proclaimed 'THE RISE OF DICK' and scrolled across continuously throughout the clip. "Holy crap," Dean shook his head after listening to Dick talk for a little bit. "What the hell is that?"

"That's one of the top fifty most powerful men in America, Dean," Sam answered. "Says here top thirty-five as of last month," Dean pointed at the laptop screen. "Now it's all making sense. Remember when Crowley kept going on about hating Dick? I thought he was just being general. Pfft!" Bobby huffed, "Well, if the Leviathan got him, then that means they're playing a much bigger board than we were thinking."

"So what, then? I mean, we can't exactly outgun them."

"No, but we can get the drop on them. Means we got a chance to figure out what these guys are really doing here." Dean looked back at the piece of surveillance equipment Bobby was assembling. "Whoa. Where'd you get that mother?" he asked. "It's on loan from Frank's Big Brother collection," Bobby answered. "It'll pick up vocal vibrations from window glass at half a mile. It's time to find out what these ugly bastards are up to."

"What's happening now?" Dean asked Bobby. They were on the phone with him while he was listening to a conversation between Dick and Dr. Gaines. "Wait," Bobby said, falling silent for a moment. "Now I have officially seen it all." Sam frowned, "Bobby, what is it?"

"He's making the doctor eat himself."

"What?"

"He's-" Bobby was cut off, the sound of an assault carrying through the phone. "Bobby? Bobby!" Dean yelled. In the back, Mack stirred at the sound of his voice. Sam and Dean exchanged a worried look. "Daddy, what's happening?" Mack asked, rubbing her eyes sleepily. "Nothing, bug. Try and go back to sleep, alright?" Sam and Dean communicated silently for a moment, and then Sam left by himself to go find out what happened to Bobby. A few minutes later, he returned without Bobby.

"Where's Bobby?" Dean asked. "He's inside. We need a plan," Sam said. An ACME Industrial Cleaning truck pulled up outside the warehouse. "Well… we could just walk in the front door," Dean grinned. Sam gave him a look like he was insane. Turned out, he was completely serious. They left Mack asleep in the car, while they went into the building, dowsing all the Leviathans in their path with Borax- including Dick Roman.

Sam dropped his empty pressure sprayer after burning Dick, backing into a corner. Dick advanced on him, his face already healing. "Sam… That is not how we communicate from a place of yes. That was bracing. Where'd you kids find this stuff?" Bobby came up, shooting Dick in the back. "Hey! That's mine," Dick rounded on him. Dean threw some more power clean on Dick from behind, and the Leviathan started to sizzle and burn. "Go! Go!" Dean shoved Sam ahead of him, the brothers running from the room. "Would you stop it with that stuff?" Dick growled.

Bobby went to follow the boys, but a large bodyguard blocked his way. Outside the warehouse, Samd and Dean were waiting in the van with the now-awake Mack. "Where's Grandpa Bobby?" she asked them. Just then, Bobby burst out the door, running toward the vehicle. "Bobby!" Sam yelled. "Come on! Come on! Come on!" Bobby opened the sliding back door. Dick exited the building holding a gun as he climbed in beside Mack. "Go! Go!" Bobby yelled. Dick shot once, and Bobby shut the door. As Dean drove off, Dick shot at them two more times.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean said, addressing Bobby. "I'm glad you got in. He almost took your freaking head off." Bobby didn't respond. "Daddyyy?" Mack asked in a worried tone. Sam and Dean both looked back. Sam noticed Bobby's hat was on the floor of the van, a bullet hole in it. "Bobby?" he asked. "Oh, God. Bobby? Bobby?"

"Bobby?!" Dean yelled. Sam unbuckled, climbing back to check on Bobby as Dean drove. "Uncle Sammy?" Mack asked him. "Get in the front seat, Kinley," he told her. "Go." She swallowed, doing as he said and climbing up in the passenger seat beside her father. "Bobby? Bobby? Hey, hey, hey, hey. Hold on," Sam said, checking for a pulse. "Sam, is he dead?" Dean asked. "I'm checking," Sam snapped at him. "Is he dead?!" Dean yelled. "Just drive, Dean! Bobby!" Mack was turned around in her seat, staring at her uncle and grandfather figure with wide, fearful eyes. "Mack, turn around and put your seatbelt on," Dean ordered. "Sam, you gotta talk to me, man!"

"Alright, he's breathing. There's a pulse." Dean was entering numbers into his phone as he drove. "Keep him upright. Stop the bleeding," he said. "I'm not an idiot, Dean! I know first aid for a friggin' bullet to the head!" Mack was whimpering, "Grandpa Bobby."

"I need the nearest trauma center," Dean spoke into his phone. "Hold on. Hold on," Sam was muttering to Bobby. "What's the address?!" Dean yelled before hanging up. "Alright, Bobby, hang in there." The vehicle skidded as Dean accelerated.

Sam and Mack were in the waiting room of the trauma center. He'd volunteered to stay behind with her while Dean went back to where the doctors were trying to save Bobby because he'd been able to tell Dean wasn't willing to stay back. He wanted to be back getting updates as well, but someone had to stay with Mack. She couldn't go back there while the doctors were working on Bobby. "Uncle Sammy? Is Grandpa Bobby going to die?" Sam stopped bouncing his knee nervously, looking down at his niece.

"I don't know, Kinley. The doctors are trying their best to save him right now," he told her. Dean came through the doors then, tears in his eyes. "Well?" Sam asked, looking up at his big brother. "They… they're trying to get him stabilized now," Dean answered monotonously. "After that… we'll have to see." He took a seat on the other side of Mack, and his daughter immediately buried her face in his side. Sam went back to bouncing his knee nervously.

In the hospital hallway, a man had intercepted and started talking to Dean when he went to grab a cup of coffee. "We know this is a stressful time," the man told him. "Yeah, okay. No offense- you can skip the garnish. What, did his insurance lapse, or something?" The man swallowed. "We're sorry to ask, but, um, did your uncle ever make his wishes known i-in regards to organ donation? Organs are only viable for a very limited window-"

"'Viable'?" Dean echoed, fixing the man with a hard look. "We're just hoping something good can come of this tragic-" the man tried again. "Listen to me," Dean growled. "I'm only gonna say this once. He's not gonna die. It's one bullet. He's gonna be fine, because he's always fine." The man nodded, taking a small, terrified step back from Dean. "I-I apologize," he stammered. "Why are you talking to me like he's gonna die, huh? I do my job! Do your jobs! Save him!"

"O-of course they're doing everything they can." The man jumped as Dean punched the glass covering a sign next to his head. "Walk away from me," Dean told him lowly, then snapped. "Now!" The man hurried off down the hall. Dean stormed off in the opposite direction, exiting the hospital shaking his head as he went down the stairs. He spotted a familiar black stretch limousine parked diagonally across two spaces directly in front of the hospital. "Dick! I know you're in there. Come on out…" he pounded on the tinted rear window, "... you dick."

The window lowered, revealing Dick Roman in the backseat. "What, did you come here to finish the job?" Dean growled. Dick smiled at him. "Yeah? Well, come on. Right here, right now, out in the open, you and me, Dick Roman." He raised his voice at the end of the sentence when he said Dick's name and it had the intended effect. The few bystanders that had gathered took out their phones to record the confrontation. "See?" Dean smirked, speaking quieter so only Dick could hear him. "Deciding to jump a famous guy ain't all upside. You can kill me right now- if you want to see it online."

"Maybe you should go check on that friend of yours," Dick suggested. "He can't be feeling too frisky right about now. I'm a very good shot." Dean glowered at the Leviathan. "We're coming for you, and not just to hurt you- to kill you. You understand me?" Dick smirked, "Come on, Dean. I can't be killed."

"You're gonna wish you could, then."

Dick laughed. "That's some conviction. You'd really crush it on the motivational circuit." Dean wasn't amused. "You're either laughing because you're scared or you're laughing because you're stupid. I'll see you soon, Dick." He turned, heading back into the hospital. The group that had gathered were still recording with their phones. Dick rolled up his window and the car drove away. Inside, Dean found Sam outside of Bobby's room. Mack was in, sitting on the bed. He could see her mouth moving as she talked to Bobby quietly, but couldn't hear what she was saying.

"What did that guy want?" Sam asked him. It took Dean a second to remember the man who'd asked him about Bobby being an organ donor. "Uh, nothing," he lied. "Just some insurance mook. Dick Roman was out there." Sam looked over at him in surprise- he'd been watching Mack talk to Bobby. "What? What happened?" Dean shrugged, "Nothing… For now. It was just a friggin' staring contest. That was about it. What's the update?" They looked back in at Mack and Bobby. "The swelling's down a little. They took him off sedation. Apparently, he- he started fighting his tube. So they pulled it out, and he's breathing on his own."

"That's good, right? Is that good?"

"Yeah. Well, doctor said best-case scenario," Sam answered. "Alright, so when they gonna take the bullet out?" Dean queried. "Dean, t-they're not even- they're not even gonna try that, not yet." Dean blinked. "What does that mean?" Sam swallowed, "The word's 'abrading', I think."

"English."

"Cutting the dead brain tissue," Sam translated. "That's if the doctor even thinks it's worth the risk." A man and woman had stopped near Sam and Dean, having their own conversation. "Can I talk to you?" Sam lowered his voice. He led Dean a little ways away from the man and woman so they could talk. "What?" Dean asked. "Talk about what?" Sam gave him a pointed look, "You know what." Dean shook his head. "No, we're not gonna have that conversation." Sam insisted, "Well, we need to."

"He's not gonna die."

"He might. Kinley is literally in there saying goodbye right now." Dean set his jaw, looking back at the room containing his daughter and Bobby. "Sam." Sam wasn't hearing it. "Dean, listen- we need to brace ourselves."

"Why?"

"Because it's real."

Inside the hospital room, unaware of the argument her father and uncle were having, Mack wasn't saying goodbye to Bobby. She was praying. "Cas… Grandpa Bobby's hurt real bad. Please, come back. You need to save him. He's gonna die without you. Daddy doesn't wanna talk about it, but I heard the doctors telling Uncle Sammy about it." Tears slipped down her cheeks and she looked at the man laying in the hospital bed. "Please, Cas," she whispered.

On the back porch of a pastel green, cookie cutter house, Emmanuel was sitting on the steps in distress. He'd heard the little girl's voice talking to Cas again. He'd first been made aware of her in the early hours of the morning, around 4 am. He had sensed immense distress coming from both the person who'd been upset his first night with Daphne and from the little girl. As the day progressed, so did their pain. And then she'd started talking about how her Grandpa Bobby was dying.

She seemed to believe Cas could save him. That had been about an hour ago. Now, he sat on the porch, waiting to either hear her voice again or sense the feelings of her and the other person. He just wanted some sort of sign from them. Did her grandfather die? Were the doctors able to save him? He wished he knew where they were. Even though he wasn't the Cas who the girl asked for, if he could be there, he could use his powers to save her grandpa.

Emmanuel sighed, raising his eyes to look Heavenward. He silently uttered a little prayer that everything would be okay. At that moment, a glimmer of hope rippled through him, followed by an overwhelming wave of grief. "No," he breathed. "No." Tears fell from his eyes as he mourned for the little girl and her family. One thought echoed through his mind: If only he had been there.