Third Time Lucky - The Third arrow
Gabriel prepares carefully. He would really like to go and check on Dean, but he knows that Dean will have no memory of the time they spent together in the strange alternate universe. He knows that at this moment in time Dean probably hates him, he's just another 'douchebag with wings'.
He has no idea how to make Dean see that Gabriel is his true love. Isn't even really sure if that is what he's feeling. Perhaps it's just gas, too much chocolate, something to do with his missing grace? How can he be Dean's true love? That has to be some kind of cosmic joke his father's pulling on him. Maybe it's his father's attempt at payback.
Gabriel knows all about that, it wouldn't be above his Father to make him feel this crappy just to prove a point. Look what he did to Lucifer! But still he prepares. He makes a video, although he doesn't enjoy rolling around with his made-up cutie as much as he should. He is pleased with his pun though.
All too soon it's show-time and Gabriel drives himself to the deserted motel, taking in the newly illuminated signage, the sparkling new décor. “The Elysian Fields” Gabriel stifles his smirk with his hand and makes his last preparations. It hurts as he pulls at the remains of his grace, several more feathers falling to the ground, but he sucks it up and straightens himself out, striding into the hotel with his grin plastered firmly across his face.
He bursts through the double doors, right on time.
“Can't we all just get along?” His gaze jerks to Dean almost immediately, running up and down the length of him, checking for injuries as he waves his fingers quickly at him, cutting off his voice before he manages to get Gabriel's true name out there. Amber eyes skip over the rest of the assorted beings filling up the room. All the usual suspects are there, Baldur, Kali, Ganesh, even Odin has dragged himself away from his Hall.
Gabriel greets his former relative but then cuts himself off, turning back to Dean and Sam. He flicks his fingers at them and clicks the two brothers off to safety, relaxing a little that the first part of his plan seems to be going exactly as he expected.
He's aware that Kali has already tied herself to the two Winchesters, can smell their blood on her, even despite the small dribble of grace he has remaining to him. He takes himself off to check on the two brothers, flirting madly with Dean every chance he gets. When Dean retorts that Gabriel seems to be the one 'uber boning' them, Gabriel has to fight the urge to moan, swallowing down his flush and redirecting Dean's attention. He has to hide his smile when Dean threatens to give away his identity.
“I'll take your voices away.” he threatens again.
“We'll write it down.” Dean replies quickly.
“I'll cut off your hands.” Okay, Gabriel knows that he's getting childish here, but it's so much fun to play with Dean, when Dean isn't growling at him and threatening to kill him.
“Well then, people are going to be asking - why are you guys running around with no hands?”
Gabriel bites his tongue hard, only managing to utter the word “Fine!” before he forces himself out of the room. If he'd kept that up there's a good chance Dean would have been silenced, but only because he had Gabriel's tongue halfway down his throat.
He redirects his frustration into his attempt to talk Kali into leaving. It may have been a while and even though Gabriel never really loved her, he does have fond memories of her and enough people, enough family have died already. He doesn't want to lose any more.
Just he had known, Kali was more than smart enough to have figured out his real name. He lets her drag him into the ballroom and thankfully the two Winchester boys are brought in as well. It would have been a lot harder if they weren't there to bear witness.
He lets Kali kill him with the fake sword, flashing himself out in a gaudy show of pyrotechnics. If anyone had been paying attention they would have noticed the complete lack of any remains, but since they all have other things on their minds, who can really blame them?
He hides out in Dean's baby, snuggled down in the back seat of the Impala. Another couple of downy feathers fall unnoticed to the floor of the car. Eventually Dean makes it out of the hotel and Gabriel waves him over.
“Don't look at me. Act natural!”
Dean slides round the other side of his baby and slips into the front, turning in the seat to eye Gabriel, seemingly surprised to see him.
“You think I'd give Kali my real sword? That thing can kill me!” Even in the dark Gabriel can see Dean fight the urge to roll his eyes. Gabriel explains that the sword he handed over was a fake. He's actually quite proud of it. Well, he should be he tells himself, managing to fool a god with it.
He moves on with the plan, which mostly involves getting Dean and his freakishly tall brother out of here and far away before his brother arrives. But first Dean needs to go and get the vials from Kali, something which he refuses to do. Gabriel isn't really surprised when Dean stares hard at him and says,
“Better yet, why don't you sack up and help us take down Lucifer?”
“You can't be serious?” Gabriel shifts forward in the back seat, eyes wide. Why can't Dean just do as he's told, why does he suddenly care for a bunch of what he would usually refer to as monsters? And how does he smell so good - a subtle mix of leather and metal and something that is innately Dean.
“That's all they are to you, right?” Gabriel can't resist the urge to dig, to see if Dean could ever regard someone like him as something more than an enemy, a monster to be killed and burned. When Dean refuses to rise he shifts backwards again, telling Dean he's out of here, drumming nervous fingers against the seat.
This is the part he was never sure of, would Dean care enough to call him out again, to pick at him one more time or would he just give up on him?
“Believe me it takes one to know one.”
Gabriel hides his satisfaction at Dean's words as he calls him out, waggling his eyebrow mockingly, dimple popping out on one side.
“That so?”
“Yes, and maybe those freaks in there aren't your blood, but they are your family.”
“They just stabbed me in the frigging heart.” And yeah, Gabriel might be more annoyed about that fact than he was letting on. Once again, people showed their true form, and he was the one that nobody wanted.
“Maybe, but you still give a crap about them, don't you?” It was the way that Dean's tone lowered, his voice softening, filling the interior of the car, wrapping around Gabriel, that had Gabriel lowering his head and swallowing, eyes fixed on the leather in front of him.
“Dean - “
“They're going to die in there without you.”
Gabriel couldn't meet Dean's eyes. They had finally come to the heart of the matter, the thing that still had Gabriel's heart in his throat, no matter how many times he had already told himself that it was the only outcome to this situation, the only way that this whole damn mess could end. If anyone would understand this, it should be Dean, right?
“I can't kill my brother.” The words were soft in the darkness but Dean just fixed his gaze on Gabriel, firm and level as he asked the question Gabriel never wanted to answer.
“Can't or won't?” Gabriel couldn't answer, his voice stuck inside as Dean continued to stare at him.
“That's what I thought.” Dean slid away from him, out of the car and into the rain.
Gabriel wanted to scream at the injustice of it all. It's not like Dean was able to judge him. He was the one who started this whole stupid, idiotic mess with his inability to let Sam go. It was his fault, making deals with demons. I mean, who would have put money on that one working out okay? Not Gabriel, that's for sure.
And off he went to Hell, giving everyone the chance to kick-start this dumb apocalypse and now they all wanted Gabriel to step up and kill his big brother, like it was all his fault for being too chicken shit to face him earlier.
Gabriel thumped his head hard off the back of the seat in front of him, cursing inventively in four different languages, at least two of which were no longer spoken. Which was a shame because they really knew how to curse. Maybe he could bring them back?
But that was a thought for another time. Lucifer was getting ever closer, narrowing down his search. Gabriel's grace was stretched as fine as a dragonfly's wing trying to shield them. He needed to get Dean out. It didn't matter if he died.
It doesn't matter if he dies! A new plan appears fully formed in Gabriel's head and even though most of him is jumping up and down, trying to tell him what an unutterably crappy plan it is, he quickly fashions another sword, this one made out of something slightly more special than an old soda can, and leaps out of the car and heads inside.
He makes it just in time, joining Sam and Dean down behind the dubious shelter of an overturned table. He thrusts his home-made DVD at Dean, eyes following it as Dean tucks it safely inside his jacket. Then, it's show time.
Gabriel steps out from behind the table, “Lucy, I'm home.” He shakes his head at his big brother and picks Kali up, pushing her towards Sam and Dean. “Not this time. Guys! Get her outta here.”
He watches as Sam and Dean hustle Kali through the door, hopes that they make it away okay. Lucifer interrupts his thoughts. “Over a girl. Gabriel, really? I mean I knew you were slumming but I hope you didn't catch anything.” Gabriel sighs, wonders what his brother would say if he knew whom he was really trying to save.
“Lucifer, you're my brother. And I love you. But you are a great big bag of dicks.” Gabriel wishes briefly that Dean hadn't left so quickly, he would have appreciated that line.
Gabriel steps forward and finally unleashes on his brother. It was about time someone let him know that the time for temper tantrums was over, that there were other more important things to think about. He's not doing this for either of his brothers, much as he loves them both. This is not about them or their dad and when Lucifer calls him disloyal he sneers.
“Oh I'm loyal. To them! “
“Who? These so called Gods?” Lucifer sounds shocked
“To people, Lucifer. People.” He knows that they aren't perfect, but then neither are the angels. He has seen what they can do, has watched the Winchesters sacrifice themselves over and over. He can't imagine one of his brothers doing that for him.
“I'm in the game now, and I'm not on your side, or Michael's. I'm on theirs.” he finishes, bringing his sword up towards Lucifer. He tries not to let his gaze flicker to the other Gabriel coming up behind Lucifer.
“Brother, don't make me do this.” Lucifer sounds genuinely sad and Gabriel has a brief moment of hope.
“No one makes us do anything.”
Lucifer smiles sadly at him. “I know you think you're doing the right thing Gabriel. But I know where your heart truly lies.” He turns, pushing Gabriel's sword deep into the other Gabriel's chest. Gabriel swallows hard, feeling his grace crack around the intrusion.
He can't see his brother's face as the Cupid comes up behind the first Gabriel and wraps fluffy wings around his human body but he can still hear him, hear the regret in his voice.
“Here. Amateur hocus pocus. Don't forget, you learned all your tricks from me, little brother.” His grace burns and he wants to scream, but his voice has been stolen. He tries to pull in air but his lungs aren't listening to his brain. His brother jerks the blade and Gabriel feels his Grace flare higher.
“Close your eyes.” The Cupid's voice is soft in his ear, but Gabriel cannot take his eyes away from his older brother, once so beloved, as he slides the blade from between the other body's ribs. Gabriel watches his grace flare and burn, white light pushing outwards, erasing line and form. He screams and screams, but no noise escapes the aching pain of his throat.
His vision blurs and the soft sound of feathers brushing against each other fills the void and then there is nothing at all.
---II---
It was a couple of nights later, another low budget motel somewhere in the depths of Montana. Sam had fallen asleep over the laptop and Dean finally gets up and prods him enough to get him to shift over to the bed.
Dean sprawls on his own bed, TV on low, some repeat of CSI or Law and Order, Dean's not really watching as his eyelids flutter and close. A slight noise wakes him and he stares around the room. Sam's bed is empty and Dean listens for sounds from the small bathroom, but there is no sound of running water.
He rolls over, slipping silently from the bed, hand sliding under his pillow to collect the knife hidden there. He switches the knife into his left hand, picking up his gun with his right. He rests the back of his hand against the sheets on Sam's bed. The linen is cool to his touch, no trace of body heat.
He pads over to the door, uncaring of the fact that he is dressed in nothing but boxers and a t-shirt so faded it's barely even grey, let alone its original black. He pulls the door open, easing it past the squeak in its hinges. He takes a quick look around the car park.
His baby is still there, obsidian gleam under the security lighting, soft glow of chrome. He looks past her and there, moving towards the all-night garage, the familiar sight of his brother's tall figure. He steps back into the room, gun dropping to his side. Closing the door, Dean staggers back over to bed, tucking his blade back under the thin hotel pillow.
He rolls over and freezes, staring into familiar honey-gold eyes. Gabriel blinks at him and opens his mouth but no sound emerges.
“Dude, I can't hear you. What are you doing here? Oh and get out of my bed!” Dean lifts a hand as if to push him away
Gabriel pushes himself up and reaches over towards Dean, his hand barely ghosting against Dean's cheek before he shivers and flickers once before disappearing completely.
“Gabriel, what the...”
“Dean, wake up. Dean!”
Dean shudders awake, jerking back from his brother who is leaning over him, one hand on his shoulder as if he has been shaking Dean. Dean can smell the soft traces of soap and shampoo from his shower earlier.
“Personal space bro. What's up? You hear a scary noise? Or is there a spider in the bath, Samantha?” Dean is all bravado, trying to hide how much the strange dream has shaken him up. Sam scoffs at him, slapping at his shoulder, and Dean sighs quietly, knowing that he's managed to distract Sam from asking any questions about it.
He stares for a long time at the ceiling, listening to the soft sounds of Sam breathing before he falls back into a dreamless sleep.
It happens again the following night. They had had an exhausting hunt, but the ghost was gone, the corpse toasted. Dean had ended up digging again, and how did he always end up drawing the short straw on that detail? But for once things had gone reasonably okay afterwards.
The hotel had a surprisingly large hot water tank and the pressure was hard enough to drum the knots out of Dean's shoulders as he stands, head down beneath the heavy spray of water. He watches the dirt swirl down the drain, followed by the white trails of lather and shampoo.
By the time he drags himself away from the pleasures of the steady pulse of heated water Sam has returned from his foraging expedition, bringing toasted sandwiches, chips and beer. They sprawl on the beds. It seems you can't have both a good shower and a chair, but Dean would take water pressure over furniture any day.
Dean's falling asleep before he's halfway through his second bag of chips, beer tilting dangerously in his lax grip. Sam rescues the beer before it tips and soaks the bed, setting it over on the table. He knows it's been hard on his big brother, he's not blind or stupid. He'd seen the way Gabriel had kept flicking glances at Dean, the barbed comments designed to get Dean riled up, to attract his attention.
He'd seen the glimmerings of reciprocity as well. The light in Dean's eyes at having someone who was up for the challenge of sparring with him, physically and mentally. Someone who could keep him on his toes, keep him interested. But then, just like always, life had ripped another chance at happiness away from Dean.
Sam was beginning to wonder if God had something personal against his big brother. Okay, Dean could be a complete Neanderthal at times; he ate with his mouth open, he couldn't walk past a pretty woman without imagining her without clothes, he was far too hung up on his car and he seemed to have a strange problem with fruit and vegetables.
But Dean had given everything. He'd followed their father, given up his childhood in a not altogether successful attempt to give Sam one. He always stood up for the underdog, was a complete sucker for tears. He hated to see any kind of injustice and he'd given his life for Sam, literally.
He'd faced down more monsters than most folks could name, with very little thanks, no acclaim and even less monetary payback. And Sam knew that Dean would keep on doing it, would keep on trying to save the world until the world killed him. It wasn't fair. Sam swallows against the lump in his throat and pulls the blankets up over his big brother, tucking them in around his shoulders, just as he remembers Dean doing to him.
Sam crawls into his own bed and sends out a soft prayer, to Castiel, to Gabriel, to anyone who's listening. He falls asleep to the image of surprised blue eyes and the soft sound of feathers.
---II---
Dean sits on the hood of the Impala, staring up at the night sky. He tracks the lines that make up Orion, the Hunter. Wonders if Orion ever looks down at them, as they struggle in the mud trying to rise above themselves. He feels the car shift slightly and turns to see Gabriel perched on the hood beside him.
“Dude, watch the car!”
Gabriel smiles at him and pats the hood gently, stroking slender fingers over the glimmering black paint. His hand tracks across the glossy surface until his fingertips barely brush up against Dean's. A shiver runs up Dean's arm and his eyes widen as he glances down.
“Gabriel, what the...” Gabriel flickers again, like a picture on an old TV screen. He stares into the back of the car and raises his other hand to press it to the windshield.
“Is there something in the car? Gabriel, how are you here? Am I dreaming? What the fuck is going on?”
Gabriel turns back to Dean and tries to open his mouth but he vanishes without a sound and Dean jerks bolt upright in the motel bed. Sam is sprawled across the other bed, sheets draped over his hips, blanket half on the floor. Dean drags the blanket back over him and Sam snuffles happily, snuggling into the fabric. Reassured that whatever is going on is not affecting his brother, Dean collects his knife and heads out to the Impala.
The tarmac is chill against his bare feet but it's only a couple of steps and then Dean is unlocking the car and opening the back door. He looks around in the dim illumination from the small light on the roof. There is a faint glimmer and he leans in, reaching under the driver's seat to pull out a couple of feathers.
Dean sits down on the back seat, legs out of the car and stares at the feathers. One is long, clearly a flight feather. It's a deep honey colour, banded in black and grey. It fades to a soft gold at the tip. Dean runs careful fingers along the barbs, smoothing them out, easing the feather back into shape.
The other is shorter, the barbs at the base of the vane fluffy and soft. It's a creamy pale toffee and Dean lifts it, runs it over the inner skin of his wrist, feeling the delicate softness. He sits for a long time, feathers resting in his hands, trying not to think to hard about how they got there and what it might mean.
Dean thinks about them all through the following day. He considers calling on Cas but what can Castiel do? He barely has enough grace to help them out as it is without Dean sending him on a wild angel hunt. The Horsemen are roaming around and they need to concentrate on that. War and Famine had already gone down easy, Dean is surprised how easy.
With the first two rings in their grasp, and a good, solid lead on Pestilence, things seem a little more attainable and Dean takes Sam out. They hustle a little pool and head back to the motel, pleasantly buzzed. Sam curls up on his bed, muttering something about Castiel and how they should give him a call before he drifts into sleep.
Dean thinks about watching the DVD that Gabriel had left. He finds himself digging through the depths of his duffel before he stops.
“Fuck. Just...go to sleep Dean.” he mutters to himself. He flops down on to the bed, sprawling on his stomach. He thumps at the hard pillow, rolling over and staring blindly at the ceiling before he swears and rolls over onto his side staring at the wallpaper, tracing the outlines of the pattern. His eyes slip closed and he sighs softly, wiggling further down into the warmth of the quilt, his face pressed into the feathery softness of his pillow.
Dean is just drifting off when there is a knock at the door.
“Fuck, I swear if it's some drunk douche thinking that this is his room...”
Dean hauls himself out of bed and pads across the room, avoiding the armchair. His feet sink into the thick pile of the carpet but he ignores the urge to wiggle his toes into it, throwing the door open with a glower.
“Gabriel, what the...”
Gabriel is standing there, a tray balanced on the upturned fingers of his left hand. A delicately carved wooden bowl rests on the tray, next to a small box, carved heavily with symbols and Enochian lettering.
“So, if this is me dreaming about your weird porno, you think I could've come up with better props. A bowl and a box? You wanna come in?”
Dean steps back and Gabriel slips past him into the room. He puts the tray down on the table and turns back to Dean, fixing him with a hard amber stare. Dean looks at the angel, he looks tired, worn thin but as Dean stares one eyebrow raises in a familiar mocking look and Gabriel's mouth curves in the faintest of smiles.
Dean rolls his eyes and asks, “You gonna tell me what this is all about?”
No sooner are the words out of his mouth before he waves his hand dismissively. “No, don't try and answer that. You can't speak can you? I've noticed that every time you try you disappear. Can you at least nod or something?”
Gabriel nods and smiles, holding a thumb up to show his acknowledgement of Dean's deduction.
“Right, I'm dreaming you?” Gabriel nods.
“You didn't die when big bro Luci shanked you with your own sword?” Gabriel tilts a hand back and forth in the universal gesture for kinda yes, kinda no.
“You need my help?” A bright smile blossoms across Gabriel's face before it fades almost as abruptly as it appeared. Something twitches in Dean's chest but he ignores it and scowls at Gabriel.
“Why the fuck should I help you? It's not like you've ever been the most stand-up guy for us. Poor Cas has worn himself to the bone down here, he's losing grace, becoming more human by the hour. Your other brothers - douchebags one and all. Especially Zachariah and Raphael.”
Gabriel nods his acceptance of the facts and follows it with a shrug and then lowers his eyes, staring at the ground before he lifts that golden gaze back up. He looks at Dean and pulls open his jacket letting it slide down his arms to pool on the ground. His shirt follows and then he grips the bottom of his long sleeved T-shirt.
“Dude! Gabriel! Enough, this is already way out of my comfort zone, dreaming about you. You taking your clothes off may have me checking myself in to the nearest loony bin.”
Gabriel raises a questioning eyebrow and moves his gaze slowly up and down Dean's body. He stares up into Dean's confused emerald eyes and runs his tongue over his lower lip. Dean blinks slowly, his lips parting softly as heat pools in his stomach.
Gabriel smiles, a soft, sweet one that makes his honeyed eyes sparkle before the expression disappears behind a swirl of cotton. He drops his top to the floor beside the rest of his clothes and stands, arms out to the sides. A dark scar stands out against the pale flesh of his chest, just above the slight swell of his abdomen. Lines spread out from it like veins, tracking across Gabriel's flesh.
Dean finds his hand lifting, reaching out towards Gabriel. He jerks it back and rubs it across his head instead.
“So... How did... Shouldn't that...”
Gabriel draws the fingers of one hand across his throat, miming being killed. He sticks his tongue out and crosses his eyes just for good measure.
Dean snorts out a surprised burst of laughter. “Killed you? Yeah, that's what I was trying to say. Gabriel moves over to the table and picks up two peaches from the bowl of fruit that sits in the middle of it. He grabs a lemon too and places them on the table, the lemon in-between the two peaches. He points to a peach and then himself.
“Okay, you're a peach.” Dean's delivery is completely dead-pan and Gabriel smiles wide, a small dimple popping out on one side. He points to the lemon and makes demon horns above his head.
“Lucifer.” Gabriel nods. He points to the other peach and then pauses, trying to think of a way of explaining grace. He mimes a halo and wings.
“Angel. Yeah I know that. Another angel?” Gabriel shakes his head, frowning hard in thought before he mimes the halo and wings again and then pulls his hands away from his chest as if he is ripping something out of himself and putting it away from his body.
“Oh, your Grace? You pulled out your Grace?” Gabriel is so pleased with Dean's quick deduction that he wraps his arms around him, hugging him hard. They both freeze at the same instant, Dean staring down with wide green eyes. Gabriel loosens his grip around Dean's ribs and takes a careful step backwards as they both look away, searching for something on the ceiling or the walls.
Finally, Dean coughs and rubs at his neck before scruffing his hand over his face and coughing again.
“So, yeah, umm - peach is you, lemon is your big bro and the other peach is your Grace, right?”
Gabriel darts a quick glance at Dean and notes the soft flush colouring his cheeks. He bites at his lip and nods. He looks around the motel room, searching for something. It's Dean's dream and Gabriel is using all the Grace he has left just to maintain his appearance so he can't just create what he needs.
He spots a box of half eaten take-out and picks up the plastic fork, snapping off the tines. Thank Father that Dean is a slob even in his dreams. He jams a tine into each of the peaches so it looks like they have the lemon surrounded. He wobbles the lemon and the peach that represents himself, mouth opening and closing as he does so.
“You and Lucifer talked.” Gabriel raises an eyebrow mockingly at Dean.
“Sorry, you and Lucifer yelled at each other. Which seems to be the angel default by the way. Just saying.” Dean raises his hands in mock surrender at Gabriel's glare.
Gabriel picks up the peach that represents his Grace and sneaks it up behind the lemon, before he spins the lemon round, and somehow has it stab the peach with it's own plastic tine.
“You tricked Lucifer? He stabbed your Grace? But shouldn't that still kill you?”
Gabriel nods to each of Dean's questions and drops the fruit back to the table. He frowns and opens his mouth, closing it again. He starts to move his hands but stops again before Dean manages to make any sense out of the gestures.
How the heck is Gabriel supposed to explain this to Dean. What he really needs is something to write on.
“Man, it would be so much easier if you could talk, or even just write shit down.” Gabriel grins and throws his arms up in victory, bringing Dean's attention back to his semi-naked state. Dean flushes again and looks off to the side.
“Oh, you probably should put your shirts back on too, you know.”
Gabriel runs his hands down over his pectorals, pressing them flat over his nipples in mock modesty. He smirks at Dean and lets one hand slip downward over the smooth skin of his stomach, sliding it towards his navel. Dean jerks around, staring at the wall.
“Shirts, man!”
Gabriel steps up behind him and taps his fingers gently against the side of Dean's head. Dean twists at the waist, looking back over his own shoulder, trying to keep his gaze on Gabriel's face.
“What?”
Gabriel mouths the word 'dream' and he flickers slightly.
“What? I know I'm dreaming, what does that - oh - it's my dream, so I'm in charge.” Dean's mouth curls up in a wicked grin and he spins around to face a suddenly worried looking Gabriel.
“So, you need something to write on.” Suddenly they are no longer in the motel room, instead they are in what looks like an office, a big whiteboard taking up the whole wall behind them.
“And you need some clothes.” Gabriel only has a minute to panic before a ringing noise rips through the room. Dean stares around, the walls flicker slightly, fading in and out. The ring comes again, and then Sam appears at the door.
“Dean, your phone. Dean, get the damn phone!”
“What the - ”
Dean shudders awake as Sam moans at him again from other bed. He flails at the bedside table, grabbing for his cell to stop the annoying noise that is echoing round his head. He peers blearily at the screen, noting that it's Bobby. He cuts off the call, falling back onto his pillow with a low groan.
The dream is gone, Gabriel with it. Dean sighs and rubs at his eyes. He knows that Bobby is only going to call back so he staggers out of bed and drags himself into the bathroom. One piss and two handfuls of water later he grabs his phone and heads for the door. Sam may as well get some more sleep whilst he can. Dean can take the call in his baby just as well as he can here.
He slides into the Impala and calls Bobby back. They have to head up to the Salvage yard asap, Bobby has a good lead. Dean nods sleepy agreement before remembering that Bobby can't actually see him.
“Sure, we're on our way Bobby. See you soon.” He hangs up and tosses the phone onto the passenger seat where it lands with a soft clunk. Dean's head falls back against the headrest and he wonders if he can grab another hour out here in the car. It's still quiet out and the car is warm and smells so much like home.
He's just drifting off when the little niggle at the back of his head forces his eyes open. He glances at the passenger seat. There, next to his phone, are a small wooden box and a bowl.
On to Part Four