Dean watched Charlie leave the Men of Letters bunker for a few steps before turning back to the building and Sam. Her question rang in his ears, what about him? Was he ready to let go? The answer was the same now as when she'd asked it. No. Dean would never let Sam go while the Trials were screwing with their lives. Would he let Sam go after they won? That was another question all together and not one he was ready to face just yet.
From one breath to the next, Dean's senses went on high alert and in the next instant it clicked as to why. He wasn't in Kansas anymore but a desert. The only times things like that happened it was connected to either angels or demons. "Cas?" The word was said through gritted teeth, then louder. "CAS!" Still nothing. The next word became a growl of anger, "CROWLEY!" The only thing that greeted Dean was silence and it pissed him off even more. He turned to see what he could find, any clues that would help him figure out what was going on. That's when he saw the monstrosity of pink in the distance.
"Shit, I am in Hell. CROWLEY!" Dean walked, or more rightly stomped toward the Inn, his fingers itched to grab the Purgatory Blade that was always strapped to his back under his shirt. He would kill Crowley this time and enjoy every minute of his slow death. The gun strapped to his ankle would do for the demons that he would likely encounter before then. For the King of Hell, he was reserving his blade.
When he pulled open the door to the lobby, Dean was greeted by a sight that he wasn't expecting. Clearly a party was going on and where there was party there was alcohol. He could kill two birds with one stone, get some answers and get some booze.
Assigned Threads
From one breath to the next, Dean's senses went on high alert and in the next instant it clicked as to why. He wasn't in Kansas anymore but a desert. The only times things like that happened it was connected to either angels or demons. "Cas?" The word was said through gritted teeth, then louder. "CAS!" Still nothing. The next word became a growl of anger, "CROWLEY!" The only thing that greeted Dean was silence and it pissed him off even more. He turned to see what he could find, any clues that would help him figure out what was going on. That's when he saw the monstrosity of pink in the distance.
"Shit, I am in Hell. CROWLEY!" Dean walked, or more rightly stomped toward the Inn, his fingers itched to grab the Purgatory Blade that was always strapped to his back under his shirt. He would kill Crowley this time and enjoy every minute of his slow death. The gun strapped to his ankle would do for the demons that he would likely encounter before then. For the King of Hell, he was reserving his blade.
When he pulled open the door to the lobby, Dean was greeted by a sight that he wasn't expecting. Clearly a party was going on and where there was party there was alcohol. He could kill two birds with one stone, get some answers and get some booze.