chapter forty-one

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It's been a few weeks since everything. Since the whole Magnus thing, Dean has killed Abaddon and now they're looking for Metatron. Sam and Evie have both noticed Dean getting more on edge and angrier lately.

Evie has asked Dean if he ever wants to have a movie night or go get food, but he always declines. Sam tries to make up for it, but he knows that Evie just wants uncle/niece time. He's tried to get Dean to do even something small, but he still ignores it, being too set on finding Metatron.

Now, Sam and Evie are asleep in Sam's bed. The brothers got back from a hunt a couple of hours ago and Sam found Evie in his bed. He accidentally woke her up when climbing on the bed and she drowsily told him she had a nightmare and the two fell asleep.

Dean walks in and sees them asleep. He blares music on his phone making both jump awake, Sam pulling his gun out from under his pillow and Evie looking around, alarmed.

"Nice reflexes. Better hair." Dean says, turning the music off.

"What's wrong with you? I could have shot you. Why aren't you sleeping? We got in like two hours ago." Sam says.

"Not tired. And we got work to do, so put on your dancing shoes, and let's boogie." Dean says. He tosses Sam's shoes onto the bed before leaving. Sam tosses the shoes back on the floor before putting the gun down and running his hands through his hair.

"I wanted more sleep." Evie pouts.

"Yeah, I know, baby." Sam mumbles.


~ ~ ~


Sam walks into the main room, now dressed, with a cup of coffee and Evie on his back.

"All right. What's up?" Sam asks.

"I called Cas. He said there's something going down in Missouri." Dean states.

"What kind of something?" Sam asks.

"He said he couldn't talk about it over the phone." Dean says.

"WHy?" Sam asks.

"Because he is a weird guy, okay? He's a weird, dorky, little guy. But he happens to have an army of angels behind him, and, even though I hate to say it, if we're gonna take a shot at Metatron, they might be useful."

Dean goes to put the first blade in his bag.

"Well, do you think we need the first blade?" Sam asks, Dean stopping and looking at him. "Why don't we just leave that here?"

"We talked about this, and we decided that--" Sam cuts him off.

"No. In all fairness, we didn't decide. You did."

"Okay, I decided that a hockey stick that can kill anything might come in handy, so sue me."

"How many times have we been around this block? Magic that powerful comes at a price, and right now we don't know what that price is."

"I'm fine. I'm fan-friggin'-tastic."

"And I'm glad, honestly. I'm not saying we bury the thing. I'm saying we just save it for when we really need it. Crowley. Metatron. The big boss fights. You don't have to have it with you all the time, right? I mean, just leave it. Please."

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