Exile in the Land of the Badbh, Part 2 Sam/Dean NC-17
Fic Title: Exile in the Land of the Badbh, Masterpost
Author Name: texankate
Artist Name: davincis_girl
Genre: SPN Slash
Pairings: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 11300+
Disclaimer: I own nothing but my twisted brain.
Warnings: Boy sex, violence.
Part 1
When Dean finally woke up, it was quiet. He tested his arms and legs and didn't feel any breaks. His ribs were sore, and one of his eyes wouldn't open all of the way, but he'd had worse and survived.
He rolled up to a sitting position and looked over at Sam. There was blood on his forehead, but there were no bones sticking out. Dean crawled over and knelt down beside his brother.
"Sam. Sammy," he said, shaking Sam's shoulder. "Wake up, dude."
Sam's non-swollen eye opened. "Dean? Dude, what the hell?"
"Fuckers. I'll kick their asses," Dean said. "Can you tell if anything's broken?"
Sam shifted around, moving his arms and legs. "Don't think so. Maybe a rib."
"Fuck!" Dean growled. "Let's see if either of us can stand up. We'll get you back to the room and tape up your ribs. And I swear to God that if they have fucked up my baby I will end this entire fucking town."
It took ten minutes, but eventually they were both on their feet. They limped out to the street and gaped in shock at the scene before them.
All of the cars were right side up and looked brand new. The broken windows were whole again, and the motorcycle was no longer in the creek. They looked at each other in confusion.
"How long were we out?" Dean asked. "Because it takes a fuck load longer than a few hours to rebuild one car, let alone dozens. Not to mention that the noise probably would have woken us up."
"This is some fucked up shit, man," Sam said.
Dean snorted at Sam's tone and the obvious statement. He turned his head at a banging noise down the street. There was still a couple of cars on their sides, but as they watched, a lone figure picked one of them up and set it back on its wheels.
"Did he just pick up a car?" Sam asked. "Or did the blow to my head really fuck up my perception?"
"Must be a shared hallucination, then," Dean answered.
They shuffled down the street towards the stranger. As they got closer, they heard him mumbling to himself and the very large, very scary dog that was stretched out on the sidewalk.
"Don't take care of a thing," the man mumbled. "Everything is always broken. He was right, you know. The humans are a plague."
Dean and Sam exchanged a look.
"She's just as bad," the man continued. "Plays her little games with the monkeys, makes 'em even worse." He took the smashed hood and pulled on it until the metal straightened out. A few knocks with his hammer and it was a sleek and shiny as new.
"Excuse us, but could you tell us what's going on?" Dean asked.
Sam looked at Dean like he was crazy. "What are you doing?" he hissed.
The man turned around and looked at them. "I could ask the same of you," he said. "But I already know. You're here busting things up and breaking anything you come across. Humans," he added with a derisive snort. He turned back to the car.
"You're not Badbh," Sam said. The guy hadn't smote them yet, so Sam was willing to risk it.
"If you value your life, you will leave this place and leave me to my work," the man said, ignoring Sam's statement. "And do not meddle with my sister. She will break you into tiny pieces just for the joy of seeing your blood run in the street."
"Sister?" Dean asked. "You mean the crazy bitch who's been driving people to riot around here? Keeps those creepy birds as pets."
The man turned back and stared at Dean. "That'd be her." He took a rag from his pocket and wiped down the windows. Dean and Sam stared in awe as the glass knitted itself back together.
"You're Lugh," Sam said. "The Samildanach. Master of all arts."
"Walk away, boy," the man said. "You don't want to get entangled with my kind."
"No offense," Dean said. "But we're already tangled up with 'your kind'. You're brother Gabriel sent us here."
The man set his tools down. "How do you know my brother?" he asked.
"Oh, we know a couple of the bastards," Dean answered. "Lucifer wants to use my brother as a meat suit, and Michael is trying to get into my pants."
"Vessels. Huh," the man said. "Sucks to be you."
"Don’t it just," Dean said.
"Please, Lugh," Sam said. "Gabriel sent us here for a reason. He said some of your people were getting ready to enter the fray for the Apocalypse."
"Badbh, maybe," Lugh said. "I couldn't care one way or the other. Heaven wins and things go back to normal. Lucifer wins and humans won't be around to mess up my machines anymore."
"Demons aren't really known for taking care of their toys, either," Dean pointed out.
"Like Lucifer will keep them around," Lugh snorted. "They'll be just another reminder of the monkeys our father chose over us."
"What about you?" Sam said. "Will he keep you around? You didn't side with him last time."
"He knows better than to tangle with me," Lugh snorted. "Badbh nearly crossed over to him last time, though. But I think she was having too much fun watching the carnage. Thought she could go with the winning team at the end. But then the winning team didn't much care for her brand of crazy."
"Is that any way to talk about your sister," asked a wispy voice floating in from the alley. A woman, if you could call her that, walked out of the shadows. "Hello Lugh. Or maybe I should call you Liwet these days."
She was smaller than Dean had imagined, especially for a war goddess. But he'd be stupid to underestimate the creature before him. She was battle incarnate; her hair was matted with blood and there were red streaks up and down her bare arms. And the look in her eyes made his stomach turn.
"I don't answer to my slave name anymore," Lugh sneered. "I am Lugh Samildanach, and that is all."
"You turned your back on God and you turned your back on our brother Lucifer," Badbh said. "Aren't you lonely? Don't you yearn for the company of our brethren?"
"I could spend eternity without the company of our brethren and consider it a blessing," Lugh said.
"He'll rid the world of the human scum," Badbh said, turning to look at Sam and Dean. "Once he and Michael take their vessels, he'll beat our older brother and rule Heaven, Earth, and Hell. Join him and you'll have your pick of isolated places with no disgusting meat bags around. Deliver his vessel to him and you can ask for more than that."
"You know I won't join him," Lugh said. "Why are you even bothering?"
"He needs your arm, brother," Badbh said. "He needs your spear."
"Is that what all of this is about?" Lugh asked, waving his hand around. "You dragged me away from my home to fix your mess just to get my spear?"
"You can't hear her," Badbh said. "She sleeps, but she calls out for blood in her dreams. She wants to join the war." Her tone was becoming more and more strident. She stepped towards Lugh.
"I'm sure she does. But that doesn't mean I'll let her."
"You don't even have to join the fight. Give me the spear and I'll make sure Lucifer rewards you," Badbh said. Her eyes gleamed with a sickly red light.
"Leave me be, Badbh," Lugh said.
"You'll regret your decision," she said, menace creeping into her voice. "But I'm taking the vessels with me."
"You know what, no," Lugh said. "Fuck you, fuck Lucifer, and fuck your little war. All it's going to do is break more shit that I have to fix. So leave them here and get out of my sight before I decide to feed you to my spear." He stepped towards her, and seemed gratified when she backed away.
"I'll be back, brother. And I won't be alone."
"No you won't. Tell Lucifer that he'd best stay out of my way, too. I might not be Michael, but I can make things very unpleasant for him."
Badbh slunk off into the shadows. Sam and Dean looked at each other with confusion and fear.
"Uh, so…" Dean began.
"Now would you leave me alone?" Lugh asked. I have more things to fix, and I really don't need an audience."
"Fair enough," Dean said. "Don't suppose you'd lend us your spear, first?"
"It would drive you insane before you killed every being in your path," Lugh said. "I thought you guys were supposed to being fighting with 'the good guys' and preserving life."
"No offense, but your brothers and sisters upstairs are just as big of dicks as the ones down below," Dean said. "And none of them seem to worry about the monkeys in the middle."
"True," Lugh said. "Why would I be any different?"
"The stories I've read about you," Sam said. "You helped mankind. You taught us how to make things. You shared your gifts. Why would you do that if you hated us?"
"And how have you repaid those gifts?" Lugh asked. "You took the simple gifts I gave you and turned them into destruction."
"Not every gift," Sam countered. "And not every person. Just because there are a lot of human jerks, it doesn't make us all bad."
"Be that as it may, I cannot give you the spear," Lugh said. "It is too dangerous. It's one of the few things I regret creating."
Dean lowered himself onto the nearest bus stop bench. They couldn't really stop Badbh, and Lugh was a bust. The people in the town were going mad with battle rage, and it was only a matter of time before someone got killed, if it hadn't already happened while they were passed out. Every day brought some new shitstorm, and he didn't know how much more they could take.
"I can't give you the spear," Lugh repeated. "But maybe I can find something else you could use."
Both brothers looked up.
"I used to help humans make weapons," Lugh said, a thoughtful look on his face. "Not those big bombs you have these days, but I did help a couple of people forge weapons against Lucifer's children."
"What kind of weapons?" Dean asked, a whirl of suspicion in his belly.
"There was a gunsmith, years ago," Lugh said. "Colt, I believe."
"You helped him make a revolver," Sam said, disbelief written all over his face.
"Mmm," Lugh said. He finished the car and moved on to a truck with no front window and a missing passenger door. "There were a couple of smiths, as well. Knives, swords and the like. I might even have a few things lying around the workshop."
"Will they drive us crazy?" Dean asked.
"I suppose anything is possible," Lugh said with a shrug. "Come by my workshop tomorrow evening. I'll see what I can find."
"Where is it?" Sam asked.
"Take Highway Seven out of town. About nine miles out, you'll see a sign for Tara Hill Road. Take that road until you get there. Trust me; you'll know when to stop."
Dean and Sam exchanged a weary look. "What time do you want us there?" Dean asked.
"I don't want you there at all," Lugh said. "But I'll be ready for you at sundown. Now leave me be lest I change my mind."
"Of course," Sam said. He helped Dean off of the bench and they turned to hobble back to the motel.
"I suppose you'll be wanting me to fix you, too?" Lugh said, five minutes and ten yards later.
"We wouldn't presume-" "That'd be awesome."
Lugh snorted. He walked over to them and took out his rag. He wiped down their faces, one at a time. Dean could feel the swelling go down. Lugh continued on, basically feeling them both up while he jump-started the healing process. When he stood back and looked at them, neither was completely healed, but they were a damn sight better off than before.
"Now get along," Lugh said.
The brothers nodded and turned back towards the motel, moving at a much improved speed. After Dean checked on his car, which was thankfully in one piece, they headed inside. When they walked in the door, they didn't even have to say a word before stripping down and heading back to the shower. There was no repeat of the earlier performance, just washing away the blood and grime, mixed with gentle hands and a couple of soft kisses. They both managed to find a pair of clean boxers before tumbling into bed. After a sweet goodnight kiss, Sam twined himself around Dean before falling fast asleep.
Dean managed to wake up before Sam for once, desperately needing to pee. Once that was taken care of, he pulled on some relatively clean clothes and went out in search of coffee and breakfast. He found a donut shop within walking distance and grabbed a dozen along with two large coffees.
Sam was in the bathroom when he returned. Moments later, he stumbled out, still in his boxers. He plopped down on the bed and beckoned for Dean to join him. Being the good big brother that he was, Dean handed over the coffee and a chocolate covered donut, followed by a kiss on the cheek.
"So, what do we do until sundown?" Sam asked. He took a sip of the coffee and moaned in appreciation.
"I think we need to do a little more research on our friendly neighborhood war goddess," Dean said. "Lugh doesn't seem too worried about what she's doing to these people, but she needs to be stopped."
"You should call Castiel, too," Sam said. "See what he knows."
"Yeah, he'll probably be pissed that we didn't call earlier," Dean sighed.
"We weren't sure until last night that this had anything to do with angels, fallen or otherwise," Sam pointed out. "He'll deal."
They ate a leisurely breakfast before splitting up to do a little fact-finding. Sam headed back to the library, while Dean went to talk to Officer Gordon. He wanted her perspective on last night's city-wide riot.
There weren't many people out and about on the street, even though it was ten o'clock on a Tuesday morning. Dean found out why as soon as he stepped into the police station. The chaos of the previous day was tame to the madhouse he found. The lobby was standing room only, with people handcuffed to anything remotely stationary. Half of them were yelling obscenities and the other half were pissing and moaning about their hangovers. Dean recognized one of them from the alley the night before.
"I should kick your ass," he growled. "What do you think the penalty for assaulting a federal officer is?"
The man visibly paled, leaving him an even paler shade of green. He tried to back away from Dean, but ended up falling onto a rotund matron who was cursing a blue streak. She took her purse and started thwacking him about the head, which made Dean laugh.
"Not so tough today? Getting your ass kicked by a little old lady? Who's the pussy now?" Dean asked. He turned around when he felt a tap on his shoulder.
"Can I help you Agent Lynott?" Officer Gordon asked. She looked like she'd had zero sleep, and had a deep cut over her left eye.
"Just wondering what in the Hell went on last night," Dean said. "Anything we can do to help?"
"I've got nearly a third of my town locked up in here," she said. "Those who don't fit in the cells or the conference rooms are stacked up in the lobby, and we don't have nearly enough people to process them. And it's not even St. Patrick's yet."
"Can you call in any reinforcements?" Dean asked.
"Our usuals are locked up in a holding cell at the moment," she said. "We've got a call in to the next town over, but they're busy, too."
"I can't do anything officially…"
"No, that's fine. We'll manage somehow," she said with a sigh. She nudged one of the drunks out of the way.
"If you need us, we're over at the Shamrock Motor Lodge, room nine," Dean said. "We have some business to attend to this evening, but we'll stop by after and see if there's anything we can do."
"I appreciate it, Agent Lynott," she said, giving him a tired smile.
"Happy to help, Officer Gordon," Dean said.
Dean called Castiel on his way to the library. Within seconds, he was way too up close and personal with the angel.
"Cas."
"Dean. Where are the rebel angels?" Castiel asked.
"Don't know about the chick. We're meeting Lugh this evening to see if he has any spare Lucifer-killing weapons lying around," Dean said. "Though, he helped build the Colt, and it didn't do a damn thing." The light turned red and he stepped into the crosswalk.
"You are talking about Liwet, correct?" Castiel asked, following him.
"Yeah, I think that's what she called him," Dean said.
"Then the Colt is probably amongst the least of his weapons," Castiel explained. "What about the spear?"
"He said he wouldn't give it to us. It would drive us crazy before we got a chance to kill Lucifer," Dean said. They turned down a second street and walked down to the library. "Sammy's looking for a way to defeat Badbh."
"She is an angel," Castiel said. "She may be pretending to be some other sort of creature, but she has all of the limitations of our kind."
"I can't keep drawing blood sigils to send her away," Dean said. "And it doesn't seem like she needs to be present to work her mojo; I don't remember seeing her at the bar last night."
"I do hope that Lugh has some sort of weapon that I do not know about," Castiel said.
"You and me both, buddy."
Sam had come up with a big fat zero at the library. More and more, it looked like they would have to hope that Lugh presented some sort of solution. They stopped at a diner for lunch, Castiel looking at Dean's dripping burger with distaste. The diner itself was nearly empty, which was good because Dean heard the lone waitress complaining that both of her coworkers were locked up at the police station.
Castiel promised to meet them at the motel just before sundown, and then went along to do whatever it was he did when he wasn't not laughing at Dean's jokes and generally bringing down the mood. Sam and Dean took the opportunity to indulge in a little afternoon delight, but managed to be dressed and ready by the time Castiel showed up.
Strangely, it was starting to feel normal to look into the rearview mirror and see the angel perched in the backseat. Dean headed out of town on Highway 9, looking for the correct turnoff. He found a dingy sign for Tara Hills Road, and turned down the much narrower lane.
They hadn't been driving long before Dean understood what Lugh had meant when he said that they would know his place when they saw it. Dean was surprised that there weren't souvenir stalls, hotdog stands, and a box office.
He had no idea what the original Hill of Tara looked like, but this one was pretty impressive. The hill itself was only twenty yards high. On top was a huge stone building, a castle really, with enormous wooden doors. They trudged up the hill and stood at the gate, wondering if simply knocking on the door would get Lugh's attention.
Castiel stepped forward and raised his fist to knock. He had barely touched the door when it swung open.
"I thought you didn't like angels," Lugh said, talking to Dean but looking at Castiel.
"We're pretty fond of this one," Dean replied. "He's not nearly the dick the rest of them are."
"Well come on in," Lugh said, turning away from them and walking deeper into the building.
The passageway led into an enormous stone great hall. It had to be magic, because there was no way that even a castle as large as this one had looked on the outside could house such a large space. The hall was full of tables laid out in long rows, all covered with mechanical parts and blueprints.
"I didn't find much, but what there is you are welcome to," Lugh said. He led them down one of the rows to a table at the end covered with knives and one very cool looking rifle.
"It'll kill like the revolver, but it's got the range of an assault rifle," Lugh said. "The knives were forged using sanctified metal and cooled with waters from the grail."
"The grail? As in the Holy Grail?" Sam asked.
"Yeah. It's handy to have around. Has enough juice to really help my tools out," Lugh said, like it was some sort of gadget he'd picked up at Home Depot. "And no, you can't have it."
"That's cool," Dean said. "We're happy to take what you can give us."
"What do you have that can kill and angel," Castiel asked. "That is what we require."
"Why would I give away something that can be used to kill me?" Lugh asked.
"Look, I know you don't really care about humanity, but your sister has driven that poor town to the edge," Dean said. "We've got to find some way to stop her. Short of giving her your spear, along with us, I didn't get the feeling that there was much that would budge her."
"I have no love for my sister, true," Lugh said. "But she is my sister, and I will not let you destroy her for the sake of a few thousand of your kind."
"She's not going to give up on the idea of the spear," Castiel said. "I remember her well enough to know that."
"She cannot get to the spear, and she cannot kill me," Lugh said, shrugging. "So not my concern."
"What's to keep her from sneaking in here to get it while you're out fixing the mess she caused?" Sam asked.
"The doors of Tara are closed to her," Lugh said. "I sit upon the throne, and none enter here without my permission."
"Not entirely true, brother," said a feminine voice. A very familiar feminine voice.
Officer Gordon strolled into the Great Hall, carrying a long wooden case at least two feet taller than her. "Hello Michael's vessel. Lucifer's vessel. I see you keep shady company these days." She narrowed her eyes at Castiel.
"Get out of her," Dean said, anger burning through his veins. "You have to wait for them to say yes. There's no way she wants you shacking up in her."
"It's amazing what the promise of a little peace and quiet can make people do," Badbh said.
"How are you here, Badbh?" Lugh asked.
"You weakened the sigil when you invited God's pluckiest little angel in for a chat," Badbh said, waving at Cas. "I just walked on in."
"Put down the spear and leave this place," Lugh growled. "You are not allowed inside the great castle anymore."
"What are you going to do, brother?" she asked with a mad giggle. "I'm holding the only thing in here capable of hurting one of us." She set the box down on one of the tables and popped open the latch.
"Badbh, think about what you are doing," Lugh warned. "I don't want to have to end your existence. We've known each other too long for that."
"I do as I must, Liwet. As do you," Badbh said. She opened the case and caressed the spear inside. "Wake for me, my bloody sister. Wake and drink your fill."
The room pulsed with a wild energy. The spear began to glow, even as Castiel and Lugh shoved Sam and Dean behind them.
"Do not make me do this, sister," Lugh said, sadness thick in his voice.
"Don't worry about me, brother," she said, cackling. "Worry about yourself."
Badbh grabbed the spear and held it aloft. Dean and Sam could hear the thing's voice, baying for blood and battle.
"I will deliver this to Lucifer, and nothing will stand in his way," Badbh screamed. "He will put me at the head of his armies, crushing the angels and humanity alike."
"I will not let you do this, Badbh," Lugh said. He stalked towards her.
Badbh drew her arm back and hurled the spear at Lugh. He grabbed a great metal shield and deflected the blow. Not done yet, Badbh leapt over the tables and threw herself at Lugh. She grabbed a knife from her belt and immediately started swinging.
Lugh managed to deflect most of her blows, but even he couldn't get away completely unscathed in the face of her battle madness. He eventually found himself backed into a corner, fighting her off as best he could.
Sam saw a chance to end it all. The spear lay not ten feet from him. If he could get it and kill Badbh, they could all go free. Dean tried to stop him, but Sam was determined to remove at least one weapon from the enemy.
He latched on to the spear and immediately knew he'd made a mistake. He could feel thirst for blood singing though his veins. All around him, he didn't see Castiel or Lugh or even Badbh. He saw powerful blood that could make him invincible.
Dean saw the madness in Sam's eyes. Castiel tried to hold him back, but Dean threw himself in front of Sam.
"Sammy, baby. Put down the spear," Dean said.
"No. Don't you see, Dean? With the spear, neither Lucifer nor Michael can get anywhere near us," Sam said. It was strange. Everyone else in the room looked like blood, but Dean just looked like Dean.
"Sammy, you know I'd follow you down wherever you might end up," Dean said, advancing on his brother. "But I'd really like you to put down that spear."
"Dean, I can't. Why can't you understand?"
"I understand, Sammy. You just want to keep us safe," Dean said, using his gentlest voice. "But Sammy, this isn't the way."
"Don't make me hurt you, Dean," Sam said. "Get out of my way."
"Not going to do that, Sam," Dean said. "Please, baby. Just put down the spear. We'll find another way." By the time he was done speaking, he was only inches from Sam. He looked up into Sam's eyes. "Sammy. Please."
Dean kept up eye contact with his brother, willing him to listen. Sam, for his part, couldn't understand why he was hesitating. Buckets of power-rich blood were waiting for him; all he had to do was go through Dean. But it was Dean. Power meant nothing without him.
Dean reached up and cupped Sam's chin. "Sammy. I love you. Please."
Sam's hand loosened ever so slightly. Castiel, who had been watching with his normal stoicism, leapt forward to grab the spear. As soon as it was clear of Sam, the young hunter fell to his knees, grasping Dean around the waist.
Castiel had no time for tearful embraces. He sped to the corner where Lugh and Badbh still fought. He picked up a large metal part and hurled it at Badbh's head. It was enough to make her turn slightly to see who dared to interrupt. With the enemy temporarily distracted, Castiel tossed the spear to its rightful owner. Lugh grabbed the spear and rammed it into Badbh's stomach.
Dean had to close his eyes against the blinding red light that Badbh gave off during her death throes. He spared a moment's grief for Officer Gordon, and then turned his attention back to Sam.
"You did so good, Sammy," Dean whispered, leaning over to wrap his arms around his brother. "You're stronger than you think. You're a good man."
"Dean," Sam said, looking up with tears in his eyes. "My Dean. Even if…"
"Even if."
They watched as Lugh prepared a mixture of poppy seeds and herbs and applied it to the head of the Spear.
"It's the only thing that sends her back to sleep," Lugh said. "You see now why I can't let you have it?"
"We do," Sam said. He shuddered at the memory of the few moments he had spent under the spear's thrall.
"And we appreciate the whole passel of non-crazy-making weapons," Dean said.
"You are welcome," Lugh said. He dipped the spearhead into the mixture and settled it back down in the wooden case. He flipped the lid down, and immediately the mood in the room brightened.
"You may not be able to stay out of the war for long, Lugh," Castiel said. And there went the mood again.
"Perhaps," Lugh said. "But I will enter only on my own terms."
"Fair enough," Dean said.
Lugh handed each of them a pack of weapons before leading them out of his home. He followed them down to where the Impala waited at the foot of the hill. Dean stopped in his tracks as he spotted one of Badbh's parting gifts.
"That bitch keyed my baby," he raged, dropping his pack and kneeling down by the door. "Oh, sweetheart. I'm so sorry." He really wished he could go back and stab the bitch again. "Don't worry. I'll fix you up when we get back to Bobby's. You're due for an oil change and some pampering, anyway.
Sam and Castiel rolled their eyes, but Lugh looked on with understanding.
"If you like, I can heal your vehicle," he offered.
Dean looked at him warily. "I don't know. I don't trust many people with her."
"You would trust me to create weapons to bring down an angel, but you do not think I can manage to repair your car?" Lugh asked, an incredulous look on his face. "You let me repair your brother."
"Yeah, well I didn't spend a month rebuilding Sammy from scratch, either," Dean said.
"Rebuilt?"
"Yeah, a semi took her out a couple of years back. Took me ages, but she's as good as new. Or was," Dean added, rubbing the scratch on the door.
Lugh took the rag from his back pocket and wiped down the door. The scratch disappeared, leaving the door as black and glossy and perfect as before.
"Let's put these inside the vehicle," Lugh said. "And then you can tell me all about it."
Sam looked like he was about to say something when Castiel laid a hand on his shoulder to stop him. They unloaded the weapons into the trunk and followed Lugh back to his castle. Sam and Castiel followed at a bit of a distance.
"I can't sit through the Ballad of the Impala, Rising Like a Phoenix again," Sam said. "I'll either kill him or I'll kill myself."
"We should let them, oh, what is the word? Bond," Castiel said. "In the coming days, you will need all of the help you can muster. Having Lugh on your side, actively fighting against Lucifer will be invaluable."
They looked at the man and the fallen angel in front of them. Dean was using his hands to demonstrate the accident. Lugh paused and whistled, clapping his hands until the huge hound they had seen the night before loped up to have his ears scratched.
"You know," Dean said. "I really think you'd like our friend Bobby."
Castiel and Sam looked at each other and smiled. If sitting down and drinking whiskey while talking about cars could help save humanity, it was worth the sacrifice.