And the Award for Most Lazy Goes to...

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Several hours had passed since Castiel had disappeared to keep an eye on Luke. Yet tension still hung thick in the air, like a heavy blanket that nobody was willing to kick off. Sam sat on his bed, flipping through pages in John's journal and Baby sat at the table where Dean had been originally, looking through the papers and occasionally typing something into the search engine on the laptop. Dean was laying on his back on his bed, feet against the headboard, as he threw and caught a ball he had found in the pocket of his bag randomly while looking for anything that could be useful.

Sam glanced up periodically, waiting for either his brother or the car to snap. He could see Baby's growing annoyance every time the ball fell back into Dean's waiting hands. However, after the somewhat unsuccessful attempts to mediate earlier that morning, he refused to get in between the childish feud that had sprung between car and owner. He at least knew why they refused to talk to each other now. Rolling his eyes, he tried to concentrate on the journal in his lap, only to be interrupted moments later as the loud revving of the Impala's engine exploded at the table.

"WOULD YOU PLEASE PUT THE DAMN BALL DOWN AND HELP!"

"Oh, I'm sorry," Dean's voice dripped with sarcasm, "am I bothering you?"

The Impala's engine continued to purr on as Baby glared at the man who continued to toss the ball into the air at a much slower pace.

"And the award for most lazy goes to," she said, holding up a fake microphone as she made her voice sound like an announcer's.

"Goes to..." Dean repeated, throwing the ball once more. "Don't leave me hangin' here."

"You, assbutt," the car growled, engine revving slightly again.

Dean just smirked, continuing his game.

"Hey, Dean, maybe you should put the ball down," Sam piped up, still flipping through the book.

"Why should I?"

"I'd just like to not lose my brother over a petty argument he's having with his car."

"Lose your brother? Why would you..." Dean trailed off, pausing as he looked over at Sam. "The other owners..."

The sound of the Impala's engine cut off as Baby also realized what Sam meant.

"How much you wanna bet their cars all returned to them in human form before they were murdered?" Sam continued.

Dean and Baby shared a look, both their eyes wide as they considered Sam's words. Both were terrified at the possibility that the car could have, and might have, killed her owner simply because she was annoyed with him. The Impala swallowed, glancing over at Sam and then back at Dean. Before anyone else could say anything, however, Dean's ringtone sounded and he pulled it out after setting the ball off to the side.

"Cass? What's up?"

He listened for a moment.

"Hold on, I'm putting you on speaker," he said, taking his phone away from his ear and pressing the appropriate button. "Okay, go ahead."

"The cars are being kept at a farmhouse on the outskirts of town. The mechanic is helping train them for something," the angel informed them.

"Train them for what, Cass?" Sam asked.

"I was unable to obtain that information."

"Well, try harder," Dean told the angel.

"Did you learn who he's working with, Cass?" Baby inquired.

"I haven't heard a first name. They refer to him simply as Mr. Puckett," the angel said. "He's in charge of deciding whether or not the cars are ready for whatever they're training them for."

The Winchesters noticed as Baby paled at the mention of Mr. Puckett. Whoever he was, the guy was definitely the son of a bitch they were looking for.

"Thanks, Cass. Keep us posted, okay?" Dean said.

"Of course, Dean."

"Wait, Cass," Baby spoke again. "Did you see or hear anything about Elliot?"

"The green Jaguar you mentioned? Mr. Puckett released him for his mission the same day you returned to the Winchesters."

"Oh. Okay. Thanks again."

"I'll be in touch."

The call ended and Dean slipped his phone back in his pocket.

"So, my money's on Sam being right about the cars returning to their owners before they're killed," Baby grimaced.

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