Dean was in a dark place breathing heavily and flicked his lighter on. He was inside a wooden coffin.
His voice was hoarse as he cried, "Help! Help! Help!"
He pounded on the wood above his head and dirt rained down on his face, yet he still continued pounding.
FIELD
In the middle of a grassy field, a simple wooden cross had been planted. A hand burst from the dirt, followed by another. It was Dean, and he crawled his way out of the ground, groaning and gasping. He laid on his back, panting. He stood and looked around in the glaring sunlight. Around the crude headstones was a perfect circle, lying on the ground as though something not of the world had felled them.
Dean found a road and started walking along it, soon coming upon an abandoned gas station. He pounded on the door and called out in a hoarse voice, "Hello?"
He rolled up his outer shirt over his right and and broke the glass on the door. Inside, he grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and gulped it, gasping. He found a newspaper and saw the date which read, Thursday, September 18th.
"September," Dean said.
He made his way into to the bathroom.
MEN'S RESTROOM
Dean washed his face in a dingy sink, then looked up and stared at his reflection. He was wearing a tight black T-shirt. He frowned, stood, and pulled the shirt up to expose his chest.
He remembered his chest being ripped open by the Hellhound.
Dean stared at his unblemished, unscarred chest in the dingy gas station mirror. He turned his left shoulder to the mirror and pulled up his sleeve to reveal a large, raw handprint brand.
He exited the bathroom and reentered the main part of the gas station mart.
Dean pulled snacks and energy bars from the shelves, along with several bottles of water and stashed them into a plastic bag. He stopped in front of a magazine stand and grinned slowly. On the stand was an adult magazine - Busty Asian Beauties. He picked it up, smirked, flipped through it, and stuffed it in his bag.
He went to the counter, set down the bag, and hit a single button on the register, snapping his fingers in satisfaction when it popped open. As he was looting cash, the TV to his left, showing only static. He shut it off, only to have a radio to his right turn on to white noise. Not wasting a moment, he went to another shelf, grabbed a carton of salt, opened it, and began pouring it along the windowsill.
A high-pitch tone began and Dean clutched his left ear in pain as he continued pouring salt with his right hand. As it continued, he dropped the salt and crouched the floor and groaned in agony. The window above his head shattered as the sound continued and he dropped to the floor. He leapt to his feet as the sound continued and more glass on the ceiling and walls shattered. Dean looked around cautiously.
PHONE BOOTH
Dean dialed a number and heard only an alert tone.
"We're sorry. You have reached a number that has been disconnected."
He inserted another coin, and dialed another number. It rang once, then was picked up.
"Yeah?" Bobby asked.
"Bobby?" Dean called.
"Yeah?"
"It's me."
"Who's "me"?"
"Dean."
A dial tone sounded. Dean took the phone from her and hung up the receiver and dialed again.
"Who is this?" Bobby asked.
"Bobby, listen to me," Dean told him.
"This ain't funny. Call again, I'll kill ya."
The dial tone sounded again. Dean hung up and turned. He saw an old, beat-up white car parked outside. His eyes lit up.
He got in, hot-wired the car, and pulled away from the gas station.
---
Elena broke out of her room and made her way to Bobby's, getting the sense that she was supposed to be there.
BOBBY'S HOUSE
There was a pounding on the door. Bobby opened it. On the doorstep was Dean, long-winded and apprehensive. He smiled cautiously. Bobby looked at him suspiciously.
"Surprise," Dean greeted.
"I, I don't..." Bobby began.
"Yeah, me neither." Dean entered. "But here I am."
Behind his back, Bobby took a silver knife. As Dean approached, Bobby lunged forward and slashed at him. Dean grabbed Bobby's arm twisted him around. Bobby broke the grip and backhanded him in the face.
"Bobby! It's me!" Dean cried.
"My ass!" Bobby retorted.
Dean shoved a chair between himself and Bobby. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait! Your name is Robert Steven Singer. You became a hunter after your wife got possessed, and... you're about the closest thing I have to a father. Bobby. It's me."
Bobby lowered the knife and stepped forward slowly. He placed a hand on Dean's shoulder. Suddenly, he slashed again, but Dean quickly subdued and disarmed him.
"I'm not a shapeshifter!" Dean yelled.
"Then you're a Revenant!" Bobby retorted.
Dean shoved Bobby away, having taken the knife. He held it out in front of him.
"All right," Dean said. "If I was either, could I do this - with a silver knife?"
Dean rolled up his left sleeve, and, grimacing, sliced his arm above the elbow with the knife. A line of blood appeared on his arm.
Bobby was starting to believe. "Dean?"
"That's what I've been trying to tell you," Dean replied.
Bobby broke and grabbed Dean for a hug. Dean returned the hug with enthusiasm, relief on his face. They pulled apart.
"It's... It's good to see you, boy," Bobby said.
"Yeah, you too," Dean answered.
"But... how did you bust out?"
"I don't know. I just, uh, I just woke up in a pine box..." Bobby splashed water on his face and Dean paused and spit. "I'm not a demon either, you know."
"Sorry," Bobby apologized. "Can't be too careful."
The two ventured further into the house. Dean wiped his face with a towel, looking up to see a young woman.
"But... that don't make a lick of sense."
"Yeah. Yeah, you're preachin' to the choir. Who's the chick?"
"Dean. Your chest was ribbons, your insides were slopped. And you've been buried four months. Even if you could slip out of Hell and back into your meat suit-"
Dean interrupted him. "I know, I should look a like Thriller video reject."
The woman stepped forward. "Elena Lampros. I've been hearing your screams and then they stopped. Call it an unwanted gift. What do you remember?"
"Not much," Dean replied. "I remember I was a Hellhound's chew toy, and then... lights out. Then I come to six feet under, that was it." Bobby sat. "Sam's number's not working. He's, uh... he's not..."
"Oh, he's alive," Bobby said. "As far as I know."
"Good... Wait, what do you mean as far as you know?"
"I haven't talked to him for months."
"You're kidding, you just let him go off by himself?"
"He was dead serious on it."
Dean frowned. "Bobby, you should've been looking for him."
"I tried. These last months haven't been exactly easy, you know. For him or me. We had to bury you."
"Why did you bury me, anyway?" Dean asked.
"I wanted you salted and burned. Usual drill. But... Sam wouldn't have it."
"Well, I'm glad they won that one."
"He said you'd need a body when you got back home somewhere. That's about all he said."
"What do you mean?"
"He was quiet. Real quiet. And then he just took off. Wouldn't return my calls. I tried to find him, but he didn't want to be found."
"Oh, damn it, Sammy," Dean muttered.
"What?" Bobby and Elena asked.
"Oh, he got me home okay," Dean said. "But whatever he did, it is bad mojo."
"What makes you so sure?" Elena wondered.
"You two should have seen the gravesite. It was like a nuke went off. And then there was this... this force, this presence, I don't know, but it, it blew past us at a fill-up joint. And then this." He stripped his jacket and pulled up his sleeve as he revealed his brand.
Bobby stood. "What the hell?"
"It was just like the demon just yanked me out. Or rode me out."
Elena glanced at him. "But why?"
"To hold up their end of the bargain," Dean said.
"You think Sam made a deal," Bobby guessed.
"It's what I would have done." He moved to the phone and dialed a number. "Yeah, hi, I have a cell phone account with you guys, and, uh, I lost my phone. I was wondering if you could turn the GPS on for me." He paused a beat. "Yeah. Name's Wedge Antilles." Another beat. "Social is 2-4-7-4." A third beat. "Thank you." He hung up the phone and crossed to a laptop on the table.
"How'd you know he'd use that name?" Bobby asked.
"You kiddin' me? What don't I know about that kid?" He typed in the address for Arc Mobile.
Dean looked around the room and picked up an empty liquor bottle. "Bobby, what's the deal with the liquor store? What, are your parents out of town or something?"
"Like I said. Last few months ain't been all that easy," Bobby replied.
"Right."
The laptop beeped and the display showed a city map with a blue arrow pointing to a star. The locator read: Phone Location: 263 Adams Road, Pontiac, Illinois.
"Sam's in Pontiac, Illinois," Dean said.
"Right near where you were planted."
"Right where I popped up. Hell of a coincidence, don't you think?"
ASTORIA MOTEL
Dean, Bobby and Elena walked down a dingy hallway and knocked on a door numbered 207, which was inside a red heart. The door was opened by a pretty brunette, who was in a tank top and underwear.
She looked at them expectantly. "So where is it?"
Dean looked at Bobby and Elena, confused, before asking, "Where's what?"
"The pizza... that takes two guys and a girl to deliver?"
"I think we got the wrong room," Dean said.
Sam stepped into the light, in a grey T-shirt and jeans, with a grim, focused expression. "Hey, is..."
Sam stopped dead when he saw Dean. He swallowed, shocked, as his eyes flicked between Dean, Bobby and Elena.
Dean greeted quietly, "Heya, Sammy."
Sam was silent. Dean and Elena stepped into the room ignoring the pretty brunette, who stepped aside to let them in. As Dean got close, Sam pulled a knife and lunged at him. The pretty brunette screamed. Dean blocked Sam's attack and Bobby and Elena pulled Sam off, gripping him around the shoulders. Sam struggled.
"Who are you?!" Sam shouted.
"Like you didn't do this?!" Dean retorted.
"Do what?!"
"It's him. It's him," Bobby told him. "I've been through this already, it's really him."
Sam stared at Dean as the struggle slowly left his body. "What..."
Dean advanced cautiously, staring at Sam. "I know. I look fantastic, huh?"
Bobby and Elena let go of Sam, who was on the verge of tears as he stepped forward and pulled Dean into a desperate hug. They embraced for several seconds, heavy with emotion, as Bobby looked on with tears in his eyes. Elena stared curiously at Sam. Sam pushed Dean back to arm's length.
The pretty brunette was looking on, confused. "So are you two like... together?"
Sam looked at her like he'd just remembered she was there. "What? No. No. He's my brother."
"Uh... got it. I... I guess. Look, I should probably go."
"Yeah. Yeah, that's probably a good idea. Sorry."
He put on a white button-down and opened the door to let the pretty brunette, who was wearing a short-sleeved blue plaid shirt, out.
"So, call me," the pretty brunette said.
"Yeah," Sam replied. "Yeah, sure thing, Kathy."
"Kristy."
"Right."
She left and Sam shut the door.
Sam reentered the room and sat down. Dean was standing above him, arms crossed. Dean and Bobby were looking at Sam suspiciously. Elena's gaze was still of curiosity.
"So tell me, what'd it cost?" Dean asked.
Sam smiled. "The girl? I don't pay, Dean. Who's the girl with you?"
"Elena Lampros. She's... I don't know what she is. There's something powerful about her. Anyway, that's not funny, Sam. To bring me back. What'd it cost? Was it just your soul, or was it something worse?"
"You think I made a deal?"
"That's exactly what we think," Bobby replied.
"Well, I didn't."
"Don't lie to us," Elena said.
"I'm not lying."
Dean advanced on him. "So what now, I'm off the hook and you're on, is that it? You're some demon's bitch-boy? I didn't want to be saved like this."
Sam stood, angrily. "Look, Dean, I wish I had done it, all right?"
Dean grabbed Sam by the front of his shirt. "There's no other way that this could have gone down. Now tell the truth!"
Sam broke Dean's grip. "I tried everything. That's the truth. I tried opening the Devil's Gate. Hell, I tried to bargain, Dean, but no demon would deal, all right? You were rotting in Hell for months. For months, and I couldn't stop it. So I'm sorry it wasn't me, all right? Dean, I'm sorry."
Dean relented. "It's okay, Sammy. You don't have to apologize. I believe you."
"Don't get me wrong, I'm gladdened that Sam's soul remains intact, but it does raise a sticky situation," Bobby said.
"If he didn't pull me out, then what did?"
Dean, Bobby and Elena were seated on the couch. Sam entered and passed out bottles of beer, then sat across from Dean. Elena shook her head, rejecting the beer.
"So what were you doing around here if you weren't digging me out of my grave?" Dean questioned.
"Well, once I figured out I couldn't save you, I started hunting down Lilith, trying to get some payback," Sam answered.
"All by yourself," Bobby said in an accusatory tone. "Who do you think you are, your old man?"
Dean noticed something, frowned, and crossed towards it.
"Uh, yeah, I'm sorry, Bobby," Sam apologized. "I should have called. I was pretty messed up."
Dean picked up what he'd seen; a pink flowered bra. He held it up. "Oh yeah. I really feel your pain."
Sam ignored him. "Anyways, uh, I was checking these demons out of Tennessee, and out of nowhere they took a hard left, booked up here."
"When?" Dean demanded.
"Yesterday morning."
"When I busted out."
Elena frowned. "You think these demons are here 'cause of you?"
"But why?" Sam wondered.
"Well, I don't know - some badass demon drags me out and now this?" Dean said. "It's gotta be connected somehow."
"How you feelin', anyway?" Bobby asked.
"I'm a little hungry."
"No, I mean, do you feel like yourself? Anything strange, or different?"
"Or demonic?" Dean added. "Bobby, how many times do I have to prove I'm me?"
Elena glanced at him. "Have a little trust. If he says he's himself, he's himself."
"Yeah," Bobby replied. "Well, listen. No demon's letting you loose out of the goodness of there hearts. They've gotta have something nasty planned."
"Well, I feel fine," Dean said.
"Okay, look, we don't know what they're planning," Sam told the others. "We got a pile of questions and no shovel. We need help."
"I know a psychic," Bobby told them. "A few hours from here. Something this big, maybe she's heard the other side talking."
"Hell yeah, it's worth a shot," Dean agreed.
"I'll be right back." Bobby left the room.
Dean stood as if to leave.
"Hey, wait," Sam called, standing. "You'll probably want this back." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cord. It was Dean's amulet.
Dean looked at it, touched. "Thanks."
"Yeah, don't mention it." Dean put the amulet on. "Hey Dean, what was it like?"
"What, Hell? I don't know, I, I must have blacked it out. I don't remember a damn thing."
Sam nodded. "Well, thank God for that."
"Yeah."
Elena studied Dean, then turned to Sam.
MOTEL BATHROOM
Dean flicked on the light and stared at himself in the mirror. He ran a hand over his chin and leaned forward on the sink.
He heard his screams and the eerie sounds of Hell and saw his bloody, terrified face.
He pulled back from the mirror and blinked in confusion.
MOTEL PARKING LOT
Bobby led the brothers and Elena down a set of steps.
"She's about four hours down the Interstate," Bobby informed. "Try to keep up." He got in his car.
"I assume you'll want to drive." Sam pulled the keys from his right pocket and tossed them to Dean, who caught them easily.
Dean chuckled. "Oh, I almost forgot!" He approached the Impala and ran a hand along it lovingly. "Hey, sweetheart, did you miss me?"
He got in the drivers side and settled in. He saw an iPod plugged into the stereo, paused, and gave it a dirty look. Elena, after a moment, got into the back. Sam got into the passenger's seat with a smile.
Dean glared at him. "What the hell is that?"
"That's an iPod jack," Sam replied.
"You were supposed to take care of her, not douche her up."
"Dean, I thought it was my car."
Dean sneered, sighed, and turned the key in the ignition. Vision by Jason Manns began playing. Dean rolled their his and glared at Sam again, looking pained.
"Really?" Dean said.
Sam shrugged innocently. Dean ripped the iPod from the jack and tossed it in the backseat.
It hit Elena's arm and she cried, "Hey! Ow!"
"Sorry. You okay?"
"Yes. Be careful, next time."
TWO-LANE BLACKTOP
"There's one thing that's still bothering me," Dean said.
"Yeah?" Sam questioned.
"Yeah, the night that I bit it. Or... got bit." He chuckled. "How'd you make it out? I thought Lilith was going to kill you two."
"Well, she tried. She couldn't."
"What do you mean, she couldn't?"
"She fired, this, like, burning light at me, and... didn't leave a scratch. Like I was immune or something."
"Immune?" Dean repeated.
"Yeah. I don't know who was more surprised, her or me. She left pretty fast after that."
"Huh. What about Ruby, where is she?"
"Dead. For now."
Dean bit his lip. "So you've been using your, uh, freaky ESP stuff?"
"No."
"You sure about that? Well, I mean, now that you've got... immunity, whatever the hell that is... just wondering what other kind of weirdo crap you've got going on."
"Nothing. Dean, you didn't want me to go down that road, so I didn't go down that road. It was practically your dying wish."
"Yeah, well, let's keep it that way."
Sam brooded silently.
Elena looked between them. "Is this normal?"
Sam glanced at her and nodded. "Unfortunately."
EXT. PAMELA'S HOUSE
They knocked on the door and a strong, beautiful brunette woman answered with a ready smile.
"Bobby!" Pamela greeted, grabbing Bobby into a hug and lifted him off the ground. Sam, Dean and Elena shared a look.
"You're a sight for sore eyes," Bobby commented.
Pamela stepped back and looked Sam and Dean up and down appraisingly and smiled at Elena. "So, these the boys and girl?"
"Sam, Dean, Elena. This is Pamela Barnes, best damn psychic in the state."
"Hey," Dean said in a flirty tone.
Sam's tone was awkward. "Hi."
Elena gave a small wave. "Hello."
"Mmm-mmm-mmm," Pamela hummed. "Dean Winchester. Out of the fire and back in the frying pan, huh? Makes you a rare individual."
"If you say so," Dean replied.
"Come on in."
Pamela ushered them inside; Bobby entered first, then Dean, then Elena, then Sam, and she shut the door behind them.
"So, have you hear anything?" Elena asked.
"Well, I Ouija'd my way through a dozen spirits. No one seems to know who broke your boy out, or why," Pamela replied.
"So what's next?" Bobby wondered.
"A séance, I think. See if we can see who did the deeds."
"You're not gonna... summon the damn thing here."
"No. I just want to get a sneak peek at it. Like a crystal ball without the crystal."
"I'm game," Dean said.
SÉANCE ROOM
Pamela spread a black tablecloth covered in symbols over a small table. Sam and Dean. Elena looked at it curiously. Dean cocked his head as Pamela squatted in front of a cabinet, revealing a scrawled tattoo across her lower back that read: Jesse Forever.
"Who's Jesse?" Dean asked.
Pamela laughed. "Well, it wasn't forever."
"His loss."
She stood with several pillar candles in her hands and stopped in front of Dean with a smirk. "Might be your gain."
As she passed by, Dean turned to Sam and Elena and lowered his voice. "Dude, I am so in."
"Yeah, she's gonna eat you alive," Sam told him.
"Hey, I just got out of jail. Bring it."
Pamela passed by again and winked at Sam. "You're invited too, grumpy."
"You are not invited," Dean told Sam.
LATER
Pamela, Bobby, Sam, Dean and Elena were seated around a small table, which had six lit candles in the center.
"Right. Take each other's hands," Pamela instructed and they did so. "And I need to touch something our mystery monster touched." She slid along Dean's inner thigh and he jumped.
"Whoa. Well, he didn't touch me there," Dean said.
"My mistake."
Dean looked around, nervous, then took off his outer shirt and pulled up his left T-shirt sleeve to reveal the brand. Sam stared at the brand, shocked, and looked at Bobby and Elena. Pamela laid one hand on Dean's brand.
"Okay," Pamela said as they closed their eyes and she began to chant. "I invoke, conjure, and command you, appear unto me before this circle. I invoke, conjure, and command you, appear unto me before this circle. I invoke, conjure, and command you, appear unto me before this circle." A television flicked to static and she continued. "I invoke, conjure, and command... Castiel? No. Sorry, Castiel, I don't scare easy."
"Castiel?" Dean repeated.
"Its name. It's whispering to me, warning me to turn back." The white noise and static continued and the table began shaking. "I conjure and command you, show me your face. I conjure and command you, show me your face. I conjure and command you, show me your face. I conjure and command you, show me your face."
Bobby, as the white noise and rattling became more violent, suggested, "Maybe we should stop."
"I almost got it. I command you show me your face! Show me your face now!"
The candles suddenly flared several feet in the air and Pamela began screaming. Her eyes flew open and were filled with a white-hot flame. She collapsed and the rattling, white noise, and flames died out.
Bobby caught her and lowered her to the floor. "Call 911!"
Sam scrambled out of his chair and into the next room. Elena went to get something to help. Dean crouched over Pamela and Bobby. She was conscious, but bleeding and burned. Her eyelids flew open to reveal black, empty sockets and she sobbed.
"I can't see! I can't see! Oh God!" Pamela cried.
Sam was calling for an ambulance in the next room.
JOHNNY MAC'S DINER
Dean and Elena were sitting at a table giving their orders to a waitress.
"Be up in a jiff," the waitress told them.
As she left, Sam entered, talking on his cell phone. "You bet." He sat.
"What'd Bobby say?" Dean asked.
"Pam's stable. And out of I.C.U."
"And blind, because of us."
"And we still have no clue who we're dealing with."
"That's not entirely true," Elena said.
"No?"
"We got a name," Dean told him. "Castiel, or whatever. With the right mumbo-jumbo we could summon him, bring him right to us."
"You're crazy. Absolutely not."
"We'll work him over. I mean, after what he did?"
"Pam took one peek at him and her eyes burned out of her skull, and you two want to have a face-to-face?"
"Do you have a better idea?" Elena shot back.
"Yeah, as a matter of fact I do. I followed some demons to town, right?"
"Okay," Dean and Elena said.
"So, we go to find them. Someone's gotta know something about something."
The waitress reappeared with three plates of pie and set them on the table.
"Thanks," Sam told her.
The waitress popped down in a chair at the end of the table. Dean looked at her with a smirk. "You angling for a tip?"
"I'm sorry. Thought you were looking for us." Her eyes went demon-black momentarily.
A uniformed man by the counter and a cook behind the counter also showed demon-black eyes. The uniformed man went to the door, locked it, and stood in front of it.
The demon waitress' eyes returned to normal. "Dean. To Hell and back. Aren't you a lucky duck."
"That's me," Dean answered.
The demon waitress looked at Dean. "So you just get to stroll out of the Pit, huh? Tell me. What makes you so special?"
"I'd like to think it's because of my perky nipples," Dean replied. "I don't know. Wasn't my doing, I don't know who pulled me out."
"Right. You don't."
"No. I don't."
"Lying's a sin, you know."
"I'm not lying. But I'd like to find out, so if you wouldn't mind enlightening me, Flo..."
"Mind your tone with me, boy. I'll drag you back to Hell myself."
Sam, who had been staring daggers at her through the exchange, shifted as if to attack. Dean held a hand up and Sam stopped, settling back into his seat.
"No, you won't," Dean told her.
"No?"
"No. Because if you were, you would have done it already. Fact is, you don't know who cut me loose. And you're just as spooked as we are. And you're looking for some answers. Well, maybe it was some turbo-charged spirit. Or, uh, Godzilla. Or some big bad boss demon. I'm guessing at your pay grade that they don't tell you squat. Because whoever it was, they want me out. And they're a lot stronger than you. So go ahead. Send me back. But don't come crawling to me when they show up on your front doorstep with some Vaseline and a firehouse."
"I'm going to reach down your throat and rip out your lungs."
Dean leaned forward, challenge swimming in his eyes. He threw her a right hook, which she took. He threw another. She did nothing but glared at them, looking more and more nervous.
"That's what I thought," Dean said. "Let's go, Sam. Let's go, Elena."
They stood and the demon sat there, fuming. Dean pulled a roll of cash from his pocket and carefully peeled off a $10 bill.
He held it up and dropped it on the table like an insult. "For the pie."
Sam, Dean and Elena stalked out of the diner and across the street, tense and quick.
"Holy crap, that was close," Dean said.
"We're not just going to leave them in there, are we, Dean, Elena?" Sam asked.
"Well yeah, there's three of them, probably more, and we've only got one knife between us."
"I've been killing a lot more demons than that lately."
"Not anymore -- the smarter brother is in town. And a smart girl who randomly showed up."
"Dean, Elena, we've got to take 'em. They are dangerous."
INT. ASTORIA MOTEL - NIGHT
Dean was dozing on the couch with a large open book in his lap. Elena was resting on one of the beds. Sam snuck out, checking to make sure Dean and Elena, who he hoped was asleep, didn't wake.
EXT. ASTORIA MOTEL
Sam drove away in the Impala.
INT. ASTORIA MOTEL
Elena opened her eyes, having heard the rumble of the engine and sighed. "Sam, she's dangerous. I don't know how I know, but she is."
As Dean dozed, the television flicked to static and the radio started whining. It woke Dean, who rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Dean rolled quickly to grab a shotgun lying by the bed and kept Elena behind him. They looked around cautiously, glancing at Sam's bed to see that it was empty. He grimaced. The painfully high-pitched noise began again and Dean grabbed his right ear, keeping the weapon in his left hand while Elena tilted her head as she tried listening to the voice. A mirror on the ceiling shattered and rained broken glass down on them. He crumpled to the ground, clutching both ears as all the glass in the room shattered explosively and screamed.
Bobby burst into the room as more glass shattered and called, "Dean! Elena!"
ROAD
Bobby drove his car as Dean in the passenger's seat, and Elena in the back, wiped blood from their faces.
"How you doin', kids?" Bobby asked.
"Aside from the church bells ringing in my head, peachy," Dean replied.
Elena nodded. "I'm all right. The angel was talking, but I couldn't figure out what was being said."
Dean pulled out his cell and dialed a number.
EXT. JOHNNY MAC'S DINER
Sam was in the Impala, staking out the diner full of demons. His phone rang and he answered. "Hey."
BOBBY'S CAR
"Hey," Dean greeted. "What are you doing?"
"Couldn't sleep, went to get a burger."
"In my car?"
"Force of habit, sorry. What are you doing up?"
"Well, uh, Bobby's back. We're going to grab a beer." On Bobby's shocked look, he held up a finger.
"All right, well, uh, spill some for me, huh?"
"Done. Catch you later."
They hung up.
"Why the hell didn't you tell him?" Bobby asked.
"Because he'd just try to stop us."
"From what?" Bobby wondered.
"Summoning this thing." Bobby looked at him in shock; again. "It's time we faced it head-on."
"You can't be serious!" Bobby cried.
"As a heart attack. It's high noon, baby."
"Well, we don't know what it is. It could be a demon, it could be anything."
"That's why we've got to be ready for anything." He pulled out Ruby's demon-killing knife. "We've got the big-time magic knife, you've got an arsenal in the trunk..."
"This is a bad idea."
Elena spoke up from the back. "I agree, but this may be our only choice."
"We could choose life."
"Bobby, whatever this is, whatever it wants, it's after me," Dean told him. "That much we know, right? I've got no place to hide. We can either get caught with our pants down again, or we can make our stand."
"Dean, Saoirse, we could use Sam on this."
"Nah, he's better off where he is."
INT. JOHNNY MAC'S DINER
Sam snuck into the darkened diner and slipped his lock-picking tools into his shirt pocket. A song was playing on the jukebox. He snuck in quietly and saw the cook facedown on the floor, his hands bloody. Sam crouched and turned the man over. He was dead, his eyes burned out and drying blood caked on his cheeks. Sam stood.
A figure tackled him from behind -- it was the demon waitress. They traded blows for a few moments until Sam shoved her away. She had empty, burned out eye sockets and blood trickling down her face.
"Your eyes," Sam said.
"I can still smell your soul a mile away," the demon waitress replied.
"It was here. You saw it."
She sobbed. "I saw it."
"What was it?"
"It's the end. We're dead. We're all dead."
"What did you see?" Sam insisted.
"Go to Hell."
"Funny. I was going to say the same thing to you."
Sam stepped back, planted his feet, and shut his eyes in concentration. He extended his right hand towards the demon. She heaved and began vomiting black smoke into her hand. In seconds, the waitress had collapsed to the floor as the demon was sucked dow into the Pit. Sam opened his eyes and crossed to the woman on the floor.
He checked her pulse and let out a disappointed sigh. "Damn it."
The kitchen door opened and a woman came out; the pretty brunette.
"Going pretty slick there, Sam. Better all the time," the pretty brunette said.
Sam stood and they shared a smoldering look. He looked down at the corpse at his feet as his face fell. "What the hell is going on around here, Ruby?"
"I wish I knew."
"We were thinking some high level demon pulled Dean out."
"No way. Sam, human souls don't just walk out of Hell, and back into their body easy. The sky bleeds, the his quakes. It's cosmic. No demon can swing that. Not Lilith, not anybody."
"Then what can?"
"Nothing I've ever seen before."
WAREHOUSE
Bobby drew a symbol with spray paint on the cement floor and stood once he'd finished. The entirety of the floor and walls were covered in similar images.
Dean and Saoirse were at a table setting up equipment and Dean said, "That's a hell of an art project you've both got going on there."
"Traps and talismans from every faith on the globe. How you two doin'?"
Saoirse perused the arsenal. "Stakes, iron, silver, salt, knife. I mean, we're pretty much set to catch and kill anything we've ever heard of. And I got my sword."
"This is still a bad idea."
"Yeah, Bobby, we heard you the first ten times. What do you say we ring the dinner bell?" Dean suggested.
Bobby nodded reluctantly. He went to another desk, took a punch of powder from a bowl, and sprinkled it into a larger, which began to smoke. He chanted in Latin.
JOHNNY MAC'S DINER
Ruby and Sam were seated across from each other at a small table.
"So," Ruby began. "Million dollar question, are you going to tell Dean about what we're doing?"
"Yeah, I just gotta figure out the right way to say it," Sam replied, earning a look from Ruby. "Look, I just need time, okay? That's all."
"Sam, he's going to find out, and if it's not from you, he's going to be pissed."
"He's going to be pissed anyway. I mean, he's so hardheaded about this psychic stuff he'll just try and stop me."
"Look. Maybe I'll just take a step back for awhile."
"Ruby, you..."
"I mean, I'm not exactly in your brother's fan club. But he's your brother, and I'm not going to come between you."
"I don't know if what I'm doing is right. Hell, I don't even know if I trust you."
"Thanks."
"But what I do know is that I'm saving people. And stopping demons. And that feels good. I want to keep going."
WAREHOUSE
Dean, Bobby and Elena were seated on tables, swinging their legs, and looking bored.
"You sure you did the ritual right?" Dean asked, earning a look from Bobby. "Touchy, touchy, huh?"
A loud rattling shook the roof. Dean, Bobby and Elena armed themselves with shotguns and took positions at the far end of the warehouse.
"Wishful thinking, but it's maybe it's just the wind," Dean said.
The door burst open and a man in a business suit a trench coat stalked in. It was Castiel.
The light bulbs his head shattered in a shower of sparks as he passed passed them. As he approached, Dean, Bobby and Elena opened fire, but the shots didn't slow him down. Elena lowered her gun and set it down. Dean took the magic knife as Castiel got close.
"Who are you?" Dean demanded.
"I'm the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition."
"Yeah. Thanks for that."
Dean reared back and plunged the knife into Castiel's chest. Castiel looked down, unconcerned, and pulled it out, dropping it to the floor. Behind him, Bobby attacked. Without looking, Castiel grabbed Bobby's weapon and used the weapon to swing him around. Castiel touched Bobby on the forehead with his fingerprints and Bobby crumpled to the ground.
"We need to talk, Dean," Castiel told him. "Alone."
Dean crouched over Bobby, checking his pulse, and glared at Castiel.
"Your friend is alive," Castiel told him.
"Who are you?" Dean demanded.
"Castiel."
"Yeah, I figured that much, I mean what are you?" Dean asked.
"I'm an Angel of the Lord. Hello, Elpis."
"Get the hell out of here. There's no such thing."
Elena nodded. "They're very real, Dean. Castiel, here I go by Elena."
Castiel briefly looked at him. "This is your problem, Dean. You have no faith."
Lightning flashed and on Castiel's back, and great shadowy wings appeared, stretching off into the distance. The light went out and the image disappeared.
"Some angel you are," Dean retorted. "You burned out that poor woman's eyes."
"I warned her not to spy on my true form. It can be... overwhelming to humans, and so can my real voice. But you already knew that."
"You mean the gas station and the motel. That was you talking?" Castiel nodded. "Buddy, next time, lower the volume."
"That was my mistake. Certain people, special people, can perceive my visage. I thought you would be one of them. I was wrong."
"And what visage are you in now, huh?" Dean asked. "What, holy tax accountant?"
Castiel pulled at his trench coat slightly. "This? This is... a vessel."
"You're possessing some poor bastard?"
"He's a devout man, he actually prayed for this."
"Well, I'm not buying what you're selling, so who are you really?"
Castiel frowned. "I told you."
"Right. And why would an angel rescue me from Hell?"
"Good things do happen, Dean."
"Not in my experience."
"What's the matter? You don't think you deserve to be saved?"
"Why'd you do it?"
"Because God commanded it. Because we have work for you."
He turned to Elena. "Elpis?"
"Greek goddess of hope," she replied. "I can't exactly go by my given name here. Mortals are strange that way"