habits, supernatural [ 1 ]

012. ghost witnesses

Bobby is sitting at his desk while the other three are in the kitchen. Dean is standing up while Sam sits at the table and Larissa puts brownies in the oven, setting a timer.

"Well, then, tell me what else it could be." Sam says. Larissa lets out an irritated sigh as the brothers have been fighting for the better part of half an hour.

"Look, all I know is I was not groped by an angel." Dean says.

"Okay, look, Dean, why do you think this Castiel would lie to you about it?" Sam asks.

"Maybe he's some kind of demon. Demons lie." Dean says.

"A demon who's immune to salt rounds and devil's traps? And Ruby's knife? Dean, Lilith is scared of that thing!" Sam states.

"Don't you think that if angels were real, that some hunter somewhere would have seen one... at some point... ever?" Dean asks.

"Yeah. You just did, Dean." Sam says.

"I'm trying to come up with a theory here. Okay? Work with me." Dean says.

"Dean, we have a theory."

"Yeah, one with a little less fairy dust on it, please."

"Okay, look, I'm not saying we know for sure. I'm just saying that I think we--"

"Okay, okay. That's the point. We don't know for sure, so I'm not gonna believe that this thing is a fucking Angel of the Lord because it says so!"

"All right, you two keep arguing, I'm whacking you both over your stupid heads with this fucking frying pan!" Larissa threatens, holding the pan up. "You wanna be annoying now?"

"You two want to keep arguing about religion and getting threatened by a pissed off woman, or do you want to come take a look at this?" Bobby asks. 

"You better fucking walk." Larissa quietly says. Dean raises his hands in surrender, walking over to Bobby's desk and Sam follows. Larissa rolls her eyes at them, putting the frying pan down, and walking over to Bobby's desk.

"I got stacks of lore. Biblical, pre-Biblical. Some of it's in damn cuneiform. It all says an angel can snatch a soul from the pit." Bobby informs.

"What else?" Dean asks.

"What else, what?" Bobby asks.

"What else could do it?" Dean asks.

"Airlift your ass out of the hot box? As far as I can tell, nothing." Bobby says.

"Dean, this is good news." Sam says.

"How?" Dean asks.

"Because for once, this isn't just another round of demon crap. I mean, maybe you were saved by one of the good guys, you know?" Sam suggests.

"Okay. Say it's true, say there are angels. Then what? There's a God?" Dean asks.

"At this point, Vegas money's on yeah." Bobby says.

"I don't know, guys." Dean says.

"Okay, look, I know you're not all choirboy about this stuff, but this is becoming less and less about faith and more and more about proof." Sam says.

"Proof?" Dean asks.

"Yes." Sam nods.

"Proof that there's a God out there that actually gives a crap about my personally? I'm sorry, but I'm not buying it." Dean says.

"Why not?" Sam asks.

"Because why me? If there is a God out there, why would he give a crap about me?"