Dean was sitting on his bed in the bunker, holding his right arm. His Mark-fuelled killings plagued his mind. He got up and looked at himself in a mirror, which was divided into three parts by cracks running from side to side.
---
Castiel paced the bunker library. "She barely speaks to me."
Sam appeared and sat down.
Castiel continued. "She's like a wounded animal, just watching me."
"Look, Cas, you know what? You really tried to do the right thing that night." Sam reassured. "You did. This guy Claire was hanging out with, Randy, all he did was use her."
"Well, she thought he was kind. And for that, she loved him. Show how little kindness there was in her life. You know, whatever Randy did, he didn't deserve-"
"No, yeah, I know, I know. I hear you. Dean has had to kill before. We all have. But that was-"
"That was what?" Dean asked.
Sam rose, surprised as Dean walked in from the war room.
"Dean," Sam said.
"That was a massacre. That's what it was." Dean looked from Sam to Castiel. "There was a time I was a hunter, not a stone-cold killer." Castiel and Sam looked at him. "You can say it. You're not wrong. I crossed the line. Guys, this thing's gotta go." Dean looked down at the Mark on his arm.
"That won't be easy," Castiel warned.
"Well, then burn it off! Cut it off," Dean told her.
"It is more than just a physical thing. It will take a very powerful force to remove the effect."
"Dean, we have been through all the lore," Sam said. "There's nothing."
"This reaches back to the time of creation. It may pre-date the lore. If we had the Demon Tablet, maybe."
"But you said it was missing."
"It is." Castiel looked reluctant about her next words. "There may be another way."
HELL - CROWLEY'S THRONE ROOM
Rowena came through the door. She was looking for something, opening a chest and a closet, but not finding it.
"Ah, may I help you?" Guthrie asked.
Rowena turned around, surprised as Guthrie came up behind her.
Guthrie continued. "His majesty didn't want you wandering around unattended. Certainly not in here."
"Och, I was just looking for a wee scrap of food," Rowena replied. "That swill they bring me, hardly fit for the mother of the king."
"I wouldn't know. I don't eat. If you please. I have my orders." He indicated the exit.
"Oh, you poor dear man. Guthrie, is it? Terrified of displeasing him, aren't you? I know how my son can be. You're all scared spitless. Still, a boy listens to his mum. I'd be happy to put in a good word for you."
"I'm fine, thank you."
Crowley opened the door and entered, holding a contract and pen. "Guthrie. Whatever this is, it bores me rigid. Do I sign or not?"
"I found it in order, sir. Do sign."
Crowley signed the contract and handed it to Guthrie. Guthrie nodded at Rowena and left.
"Mummy. Bored? Suicidal? Both?" Crowley asked.
"Hardly, my dear. I'm learning so much. This place of yours? Poor thing. I see now why you are the way you are."
Crowley sat on the throne, a questioning look on his face.
"My goodness!" Rowena cried. "The discontent, the gossip, the plotting."
"Plotting?"
"Aye! And that one-" She pointed in the direction where Guthrie left. "Worst of the lot. Watch yourself around him, mark my word."
"You do realize that's exactly what you said about the guard, Gerald, down in the cells."
"And was I not right? I know, I know, you mistrust me, and I earned that, and it's a pity, because more than any of your other subjects, I wish you success."
"I know what you're up to here, mother."
"Do you, dear?"
"You are shamelessly sucking up so that I'll free you, so you can run amok and gum up my operation once again. No, thank you."
"Flee schmee. Why would I want to be free when I can be here with my son? Does it hurt that you are the king and there are advantages for me in that? No. But more important, I'm a mother. Sue me, I'm proud."
"Excuse me if I don't curl up in your lap. You did manage to stay away for three hundred years."
"Please, we've been over this. The locals were going to try me for witchcraft and that never ends well. I had to flee."
"You could have sent for me!"
"Well then came the chance to study under the great Milanese witch, Leticia D'albinoni... And then there was unpleasantness with the grand coven. Anyway, it was no environment for a child!"
"So locking me away in a squalid workhouse was your solution?"
"I will not apologize for being a career woman! Besides, what's three hundred years, more or less, to folks like us? Nothing. I'm back now." Rowena licked her thumb and smoothed Crowley's eyebrow with it. "We can be a family."
Crowley scoffed mildly.
EXT. PLAYGROUND WITH THE PORTAL TO HEAVEN
Castiel paced. She was watched by two guard angels, one in a woman's vessel, the other in a little girl's.
"They should be here by now," Castiel said. "Was there word of a delay?"
"All I do is watch the door," the woman angel said. "Who are you expecting, Castiel?"
The portal opened. Ingrid and another angel came through escorting a prisoner with a hood over his head.
"Thank you, Ingrid," Castiel stated.
"I did as you asked at great risk, Castiel," Ingrid told her.
"I know. I approached you because I know you share my belief that it is angels' mission to protect humans. It's possible I can eliminate a great threat to them, but I will need his help."
"He must be returned intact. Is that clear?"
"Yes."
Castiel took the prisoner. Ingrid and her companion left through the portal. Castiel took off the prisoner's hood and revealed Metatron.
"Told you last time I saw you I'd get out of the slammer," Metatron said.
"It's temporary, trust me," Castiel told him.
"Well, speaking of temporary, you must've borrowed some more grace. You're looking very good. Of course, we both know that won't last. Is that why I'm here? You think I'm gonna help you?"
"This isn't about me."
"Of course not. The great Castiel never stoops to such selfishness. So what is it then?"
Sam opens the front passenger door of Castiel's Lincoln and got out.
Metatron added, "Oh, I see. I'm betting you didn't tell Ingrid about him. Hello, Sam! Here to kill me?"
EXT. BUNKER
Metatron voiced, "Lovely room."
INT. BUNKER - DUNGEON
Metatron was sitting in a chair. Sam approached him as the angel said, "It's where you keep the kinky chicks, am I right?"
"I'll ask the questions here," Sam said, putting chains around Metatron. "You... Your only job is to provide information."
"Ah. Well, information does happen to be my specialty. Got about two billion facts up here." Metatron pointed to his temple. "Of course, whether I choose to cough one up or not is another matter."
"We need to know how to remove the Mark of Cain from Dean's arm."
Metatron looked incredulous. "What? He's back? Because of the Mark? So... he's a demon."
"No."
"Okay, then what?" Sam looked troubled. "What, did he "kill a human" or something?" Metatron used air quotes and Sam crossed his arms. "He's gone nuclear. Total, foaming at the mouth, balls-out maniac. Ah, haha -- that's fantastic!"
"Do you know how to remove it?"
"Maybe. But here's the thing. You expect any help out of me, you keep that crazy brother of yours on a short leash..."
"Buddy, I don't care what happens to you. You killed my brother." He turned to face Dean, who walked into the dungeon.
EXT. STREET - OUTSIDE HOTEL ASTORIA - NIGHT
The hotel sign had seven white neon stars.
INT. HOTEL ROOM
Claire was hurriedly packing. There was a knock on the door. The door opened and Castiel entered.
"I was hoping to be gone by the time you got back," Claire said.
Castiel closed the door behind her. "If you don't like the room, we can find another one."
"It's not the room, Castiel. It's you. This isn't going to work. I mean, come on. You look like my mother. It is her body. But she's dead, and I get it, you feel bad, but you... whoever you are, are nothing to me."
"Claire, that's not true. I'm in large part responsible for the way your life has unfolded. I... I have a responsibility to help you."
"No, you don't."
"Claire. You have seen things, you've been through things that no one your age should have. And you are adrift. I wanna – I wanna help you have a life."
"I have a life. I'm good with it. If what you mean is a normal life, well. That ship has sailed."
"Doesn't have to be the case. You're still young."
"Stop talking to me like you're my mother. You killed my mother. And that friend of yours killed the last thing I had closest to family."
"Are you speaking of Randy? Family? A man had you in that room and Randy didn't make a move to help you."
"Maybe because he was at gunpoint. Dean Winchester is a monster."
"It's possible there is a little monster in all of us."
"You want me to trust you, and the fact that you'd even try to defend him just proves to me that I can't."
"Claire..."
"No, Castiel, I'm done! I have to be on my own."
Claire left and closed the door behind her. Castiel stared after her with a sorrowful expression.
INT. BUNKER - DUNGEON
"Ain't life a bitch? Nebbishy little guy -- me -- always sticking it to the lunkhead jocks."
"You know what, screw the Mark," Dean said. "Let's just kill him."
"Boy, he really is a mess. And so is she."
Sam was seated on a table corner next to Dean.
Metatron continued. "Who knew the Mark was so toxic? Well, actually, I did." He turned to Dean. "You know it is going to own you sooner than later."
"Yeah, so how do we get rid of it?" Sam asked.
"What, just like that, social hour's over?"
"Yes, and now we're moving on to our keynote speaker."
"Which is you." Dean clarified. "With us asking the questions. And me, taking the personal pleasure of carving the answers out of you."
"Now, just -- whoa, whoa, whoa," Metatron said. "Hold on there, badass! Lighten up! Why do you assume I'm not gonna be helpful?"
"Because you're a dickwad," Sam retorted.
"But I'm your dickwad. I have a special place in my non-heart for you each. To which end -- ta-daa! I'd be tickled to help you pop this biblical zit. To do it, you are gonna need one specific thing. Your old bud -- the First Blade."
"What?"
Metatron laughed. "As I said: ain't life a bitch."
The boys walked into the library]as Sam said, "This is the single worst idea I've ever heard. You just whacked a whole house full of people, and that's when the Blade was nowhere around. And now you wanna be in actual contact with it?"
"We don't know that I have to be in contact with it. All we know is that we need it," Dean replied.
"No, no, all we know is he says we need it. We don't even know what he wants us to do with it."
"A step at a time, all right? We play it safe, we learn whatever the spell is, how it works, and we keep the Blades out of our hands." Dean took out his cell phone.
"Are you sure this isn't the Mark making you want the damn thing? I mean, why would we trust anything Metatron says?"
"I don't trust Metatron."
"You don't tru -- Then what?"
"What's his game if he is lying, okay? The Blade without me is useless. The Blade with me is trouble for him." Dean made a call and put his phone to his ear.
"What does he want?"
"I don't know. But if we weren't willing to take a shot, then what was the point of bringing him here. Unless you got a better idea."
HELL - CROWLEY'S THRONE ROOM
Rowena was pouring tea, using a golden tea set. "Of course you recall the lovely lullaby I sang to you nightly after you fed the goat."
Crowley was sitting on his throne. "You never sung me a lullaby. You dosed me with whiskey until I passed out."
"Even then, I had a touch for pharmacology. Your mum was a prodigy."
"Funny. Not what I called you." His cell phone rang. "Business." He answered. "Squirrel. It's been awhile. Back to your former self?"
BUNKER CORRIDOR
Dean was on the phone, Sam behind him.
"Crowley. We need to meet ASAP."
THRONE ROOM
"Where?" Crowley listened while Rowena watched him. He ended the call and got up from the throne. "I got to go. Urgent. Matter of state."
"My son," Rowena said, straightening Crowley's lapels. "So important. Shall I wait dinner for you?"
"You don't cook. I don't eat. It's a perfect arrangement." He teleported away.
"Not even a goodbye."
Rowena looked around, seeing she was alone. She opened a drawer and took out a pair of scissors. She hummed The Road to Loch Lomond as she opened Crowley's closet where at least six identical dark blue paisley ties were hanging side by side. She cut a strip of fabric from one of them.
BAR
Claire was holding a pool cue, talking to Brit, who also had a pool cue. "After my mom split and went crazy, Randy was like a father to me. First, I lose my mom, then my dad, then I lose my second one. And who killed him and trashed my life?" She made the shot. "The buddy of the guy who killed my mom wants to be my third dad."
Brit scoffed. "Wow, sounds just like my life."
Tony also held a pool cue. "Complications and pain. That's all family get you."
"Yes." Claire said.
"That's why me and Tony keep moving," Brit explained. "No strings. Hey, why don't you hang with us for awhile and unload this whole mess?"
"Um, you might wanna reconsider. People near me get pretty unlucky pretty fast." Her cell phone rang and she looked at the screen. "Oh, my -- that's him again."
"The guy who killed your second dad or the lady who killed your mom?" Tony asked.
"The second thing."
"Tell her to get lost," Brit said.
"I did. She's a turn-the-other-cheek kinda girl."
"Hon. You seem real sweet, but sweetness don't clean up messes."
"Yeah."
STREET
Dean and Sam were standing in front of a brick graffiti-covered wall.
"Really, Crowley?" Dean said. "Radio silence?"
"Say something." Sam told him.
"You want me to do what?" Crowley asked.
"We need you to bring back-"
In Hell, Rowena was humming bagpipe music as she attached strips of Crowley's ties to a hex object.
"You don't have to give the thing to us," Dean reasoned.
"I should say not," Crowley replied.
"No, no, just retrieve it and hang onto it until we need it."
"You, Moose, you're the sane one. You onboard with this?"
In Crowley's throne room, Rowena said a spell. "Wings of Titania, bear mine eyes aloft as I bid thee." She finished her spell and gasped. Her eyes rolled into her head as her spell led her inner sight to Crowley, who was with the Winchesters in the dark alleyway. She saw and heard the conversation play out.
"Insane," Crowley said. "You want me to procure the most dangerous weapon on the planet for Dean Winchester, the man who goes mental every time he touches it! I thought you'd wanna go for a beer, catch a film."
"Look, if this plan works..." Sam began.
"It's not a plan. It's a probable death sentence for me and my kind."
"If it works, it's better for you. Look, when the Mark it gone, the Blade can't operate."
"Win-win," Dean replied. "Huh? Win-win."
"Stop that," Crowley told him. "It can't operate. It's hidden."
"Okay, the Blade might be powered down, but the Mark is not. I'm doing everything I can to keep it together. You think the body count around me is high right now? Wait till Hal takes over."
"We figure you stashed the Blade somewhere far away..." Sam guessed.
"Damn right. It's in a crypt with my bones." Crowley informed.
Rowena raised her eyebrows.
"All right, well?" Dean pressed.
"I hate Guam this time of year." Crowley muttered.
Rowena's inner sight retracted back into her body. She sat in Crowley's throne room, smiling.
BUNKER
Castiel came through the front door and said, "The First Blade is back in play and Crowley is the one getting it?"
Sam was sitting at the table in the war room. He looked up at Castiel in surprise.
Castiel continued. "I don't mean to be an alarmist, but you-"
"Yeah well, you know us." Dean interrupted as he walked in from the library, holding a beer. "When we screw ourselves, we like to go whole hog."
"This would be the Crowley who let the Blade turn Dean into a demon?" Castiel walked down the stairs into the war room.
"I don't have a choice, 'kay? I don't do this, we're down the rabbit hole. Hear evil, see evil, do evil. The trifecta."
"Cas, look. Let us worry about this," Sam said. "You've got enough on your plate with Claire."
"Claire is gone," Castiel informed.
"Gone where?"
"I don't know, I-I should have stopped her. But I am certain that she is destined for more trouble and disappointment. She is so... so full of rage."
"Listen, sweetheart, if I could make it better, I would," Dean said.
"It's actually why I'm here. I was hoping you might reach out to her."
"Me?"
"Yes."
"Seriously, I'm probably the last person she would wanna hear from."
"I thought there would be a connection. One extremely messed up human to another, you could explain why you murdered her only friend."
"Oh, well, yeah, when you put it like that."
"All I know..." Castiel sat opposite Dean, "...is she won't talk to me. I thought if she understood the kind of man Randy was and the danger she was in, she might..."
"What the hell, why not? Long shots seem to be the theme around here. I'm gonna go make a sandwich."
"I'll, uh -- I'll text you her number."
"Okay."
Castiel held up a cell phone. "I like texting. Emoticons?"
Dean left the room.
Castiel continued. "He seems calm. Considering the effects of the Mark. Metatron in proximity."
"Too calm," Sam answered. "I think he's worried about what'll happen if he pops the cork."
CRYPT
Crowley walked in and blew the dust off a marble sarcophagus, labeled MACLEOD. He opened the lid to reveal a skeleton and an ornate box. He took out the box and opened it, but it contained a First Blade-shaped nothing.
Crowley walked into his throne room, looking down at Guthrie's body. "What in hell...?"
"Exactly!" Rowena cried. "What the hell is going on in Hell? You said Guthrie was one of your best, your most trusted, and yet I found him inciting unrest amongst the court."
"Can't be true."
"Can't it? He said you were colluding with someone called -- Winchester? Yes? And that you were going to fetch him, what was it -- the First Blade? Which could kill us all! He said he got it first because you couldn't be trusted. Naturally I confronted him, and he attacked me! I had no choice."
"I had a vision. Of Guthrie, attacking me."
"A prophecy. I am an interpreter of signs."
Crowley squatted down, and took the First Blade from Guthrie's suitcase. "It's not possible."
"I know, sonny -- and yet."
"How could he have known?"
"Spies everywhere. I did try to warn you. Fergus -- these Winchesters he mentioned, they're not the hunter Winchesters, are they? Because they too could be a great danger for us. I mean, today we got lucky, but tomorrow, who knows? Who is there left for you to trust?"
OUTDOORS - NIGHT
A small wood fire was burning.
"Oh, we loved living there. It was our dream house," Brit said to Claire.
Tony walked out of the beat-up camper behind them. "Of course the family came home from vacation. Screwed everything up." He handed a beer to each of the girls.
"Haha! We tore outta there and ran two miles bare-ass naked."
Claire put her phone to her ear and heard Dean. "Hey, it's Dean. Look, Claire. We need to talk in person. Just tell me where, okay? Call me."
"That him again?" Tony asked. "The guy that caused you so much grief?"
"Worse. Dean Winchester," Claire replied. "The one who butchered Randy."
"And why? What was this Dean's connection to Randy?" Brit wondered.
"He didn't even know him. Or the others. And he gutted them. And I saw him standing there, soaked in blood. Looking like he enjoyed it. And now he wants to meet. And talk."
"Maybe you should," Tony said.
"What?"
"Me and Tony are worried for you. This guy around, you're always gonna be looking over your shoulder," Brit told her.
Tony nodded. "We've handled situations like this before. We could take care of him so they won't bother you anymore."
"Beat him up bad."
"Or... something more permanent."
Claire smiled at Tony.
BUNKER KITCHEN
Dean was pulling sandwich fixings from the fridge. His phone rang and he answered. "Yeah."
"Squirrel," Crowley said. "I've got it."
"That's good to hear."
"Of course, I'm going to hang onto it until you work out how to get that thing off your arm."
Dean ended the call.
He made his way to the dungeon where Metatron was still sitting.
"I'm guessing you're not here to reminisce," Metatron said.
Dean frowned. "All right, we did what you said. We have the First Blade."
"Not here? Not on your person."
"Not saying. So back to you. What's next?"
"This is where it gets kind of interesting."
"Uh-huh."
"It's very lonely here. And I have little to do but think. And it occurred to me that you really need this Mark taken off of you. And in order to do that, you really need me. So here's the deal. That first little tip I gave you? A freebie. Just cause you're you. Every future step -- they're gonna cost you. Big. Oh, and FYI, there's a bunch."
Dean pulled out an angel blade, slammed it on the table, and went to close the door.
"Whatcha doing there, slugger?" Metatron asked.
Dean locked the door. "I'm settling a score that's taken way too long to settle. Oh, and while Ido that, I'm gonna get some information." He picked up the angel blade and walked up to Metatron. "And I'm gonna enjoy every minute of it. Because you're gonna tell us everything. All of it. And it ain't gonna cost me a damn dime. Slugger." He paused. "All right. I'm gonna ask this exactly once, before it gets ugly. What is the next step in removing the Mark?"
"I repeat my offer. Each step costs you."
"You're confused. See, each step you don't give us -- is gonna cost you. And it's been a long time coming. I mean, where do I begin? Stealing Cas' grace. Casting out the angels. Making Gadreel kill Kevin using my brother's hands. Starting an angel war. And, oh yeah, you killed me."
Metatron scoffed. "My morality is being judged by Dean Winchester? How many people have suffered and died because they believed in you? How many times have you lied to Sam, including, oh by the way, when he was possessed by an angel? And you say, "Oh well, it's all for the greater good." But lately, buddy? That greater good thing just went away, didn't it? Now, people just die because you want them to."
Dean punched Metatron in the face, who grunted and chuckled. "Good, Dean. Go darker."
Dean punched Metatron again, and he started bleeding at the mouth. "Go deeper!"
Metatron was bleeding from his nose. "Surely you've noticed, every time you respond when the Mark gets you all twitchy, you fall deeper under its spell. You think roughing it up with a few humans and demons makes it worse? Try messing with the Scribe of God, bucko!"
---
In the war room, Castiel walked up behind Sam. "It's late. I'm gonna drive around a little bit, see if I can find Claire."
"Right now?" Sam asked.
"I have to try."
"Well, be careful." Sam looked into the empty kitchen. "Wait, Cas? Where's Dean?"
DUNGEON
Dean punched Metatron, who was panting and bleeding from a blackened eye. "And Kevin's death? All on you. You put him in harm's way and kept him there. Gadreel possessing Sam? Who was it that tricked Sam into letting him in? Oh, and then my personal favorite: Dean Winchester. Whose entire existence is defined by a war on the dark and monstrous -- bromancing his way around the country with the King of Hell!"
Dean punched Metatron twice. "Let's try this again. What is the next step?"
"What is it you humans say so inelegantly? Oh, yes -- go screw yourself."
---
Sam ran up outside the dungeon, followed by Castiel. Dean grabbed the angel blade from the table. Sam tried to open the dungeon door, but it was locked. He pounded on the door.
"Dean?!" Sam called.
INSIDE
"Now it's time to get serious," Dean said.
Sam knocked on the door. "Dean!"
Dean put the blade against Metatron's throat. "What is the next step in removing this Mark from my arm?"
Sam, outside, demanded, "Dean, open the door."
OUTSIDE
Sam continued pounding on the door. "Hey, open the door!"
Castiel was standing behind him.
INSIDE
Dean cut Metatron's face. There was a glimmer of angel grace from the wounds. Dean placed the angel blade at Metatron's throat. "What is..."
---
Outside, Sam body slammed the door.
---
"...the next step?" Dean ripped Metatron's shirt open and the two started cutting down his sternum. Blood and grace seeped out. Metatron screamed.
---
Sam kicked the door to no avail. Castiel shoved him out of the way. "Move!"
Castiel raised her arm.
---
The Mark on Dean's arm glowed red.
"Behold, the river shall end at the source," Metatron said.
---
In the corridor, Castiel's eyes glowed and she sent grace from the palm of her hand to shatter the dungeon door. She looked winded, and Sam ran past her into the dungeon, where Dean was holding the angel blade against Metatron's chest.
"No, Dean!" Sam cried. "Hey, stop, stop."
Sam grabbed Dean and pulled him away. Castiel checked on Metatron.
"You were killing him." Sam said.
"I have to take him back," Castiel told them.
"Cas, this won't happen again," Sam replied.
"I gave my word. I have fences to mend in Heaven, and as it is, I have a lot to explain."
"If you ever ask me for help again, I will choose death," Metatron said. "You realize it's going to get worse, Dean. You're gonna get worse!"
Castiel dragged Metatron away.
---
Sam walked into the library to see Dean sitting at the table, holding his head in his hands.
"Hey. You okay?" Sam asked.
"He said the river ends at the source," Dean replied.
"What does that mean?"
"Maybe nothing. It was the last thing he said before you guys busted in."
"Dean. Look, man, we had to..."
"Hey, no. I get it, all right. I -- I was gonna kill him," Dean interrupted. "I wanted to kill him. And I couldn't stop myself."
"We'll figure it out, all right? You know what Cas said about needing a powerful force?"
"Yeah, so?"
"So, I've been thinking. Look. Cain still has the Mark, right?" Dean nodded. "And he's lived with it. For years, he's lived with it. So yeah, the Mark is strong, but -- Dean, maybe there's a part of you that wants to give in to it. And maybe you have to fight that, you know? Maybe... part of that powerful force has to be you."
Dean's phone played rock music and he picked it up. "Yeah."
"It's Claire."
CAMP GROUND
"I've thought it over," Claire said, walking up to Tony and sitting by the campfire. "Maybe it's only fair to hear your side of it. I mean, Castiel seemed to trust you, a lot." She sat between Tony and Brit.
"Yeah, okay, where do you wanna meet?"
The next day, the Impala drove up to Tony and Brit's camper. Dean was alone. Claire looked at him through the camper window. Dean got out of the car. Brit was lurking in the bushes, holding a bat. Dean sat on the park bench. Tony was lurking behind him. Claire watched them sneak up on Dean. Tony was holding an axe.
Claire got up and ran to the open camper door. "No!"
Dean turned his head, seeing Claire, then looked around, alarmed. Brit swung her bat for him, but he ducked. Tony and Claire ran towards Dean, who took Brit in a choke hold using the bat. Tony attacked Dean, who shoved Brit to the side and, after a brief struggle, shoved Tony on the ground next to her. Dean picked up the axe.
"No!" Claire cried again. Dean raised the axe and Tony flinched. "No, no!"
Dean forcefully swung the axe into the park bench. Tony and Brit ran off, unharmed. Dean faced Claire, who turned around and went back into the camper. Dean left.
Castiel's Lincoln drove through a wooded area. Claire was walking down the road. As Castiel coasted alongside her, she spoke to her through the driver's side window. "Claire!"
"How the hell did you find me?" Claire asked.
"Angels are able to find those who pray to them."
"Pray? Oh believe me, I gave up praying a long time ago."
"Well, it doesn't have to be a formal prayer. I could pick up on a-a longing... Perhaps you wanted to tell me something?"
"No." She stopped walking. "I don't know. Maybe." Castiel turned off the car engine. "I guess I just..." Castiel got out of the car, "...wanted to tell you that I-I thought about what you said. I'm gonna try doing things a little bit different. Let go of the little bit of monster in me."
"Well, I could try to help you with that."
"I still gotta go it alone. But I could -- maybe call sometime? Now get out of here, would you? No one's gonna pick me up with that butt-ugly car sitting there."
"I'll see you, Claire."
"Oh, hey. Not that you care, but I like you better in a scarf."
Castiel smiled before getting back in the car and driving off.