Chapter Twenty One

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"Do you actually plan on offering something useful?"

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"Do you actually plan on offering something useful?"

"Do you actually plan on offering something useful?"

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"I'm sorry! I'm stressed!"

"I'm sorry! I'm stressed!"

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"You're stressed?!"

"Alright we've still got the hex bags", Dean grapples as I begin anxiously pacing the abandoned cabin we've found in the same field. A place where we're trying to re-group and gather our new plan. Our entire survival as well as Anna's rested on her Grace that was apparently already snatched by another. With that gone we're back to our stabs in the dark "We'll head back to the panic room-"

"No way", I jump down from the table I've been sat beside with Anna who's become entranced with her Angel radio. Dismissively, I argue with Dean "We're not waging war in Bobby's front room."

"What're you talking about?" Dean absurdly waves his hands towards me "You should be on the phone to the man down getting him to speed his ass over!"

"I'm not calling Bobby to a fight that we might not even be able to come out of alive!" I yell right back at Dean, arcing up stubbornly "We're talking a Heaven versus Hell battle over a single Angel who doesn't even have any juice to protect us!"

"Which is why we need all the help we can get on our side!"

"I'm not getting him killed!"

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