And I Hope That You'll Remember Me (SPN Fanfic)

The End

December 15th

Kansas City, Missouri

They drove for a few hours before Dean pulled into a motel in the southern part of New York. They spent the night there, then headed out late the next morning. They drove for the rest of the day. Not even Dean really knew where he was going. Finally, that night, they decided to stop in Kansas City, Missouri. As they were looking for a motel, Alex spoke up. "So are we seriously going to hunt Lucifer?"

"Hell yeah. Son of a bitch is trouble."

"Understatement, but, yeah. Do we have a plan?"

Dean thought for a second. "I dunno, maybe, find him before he finds a meatsuit?" He pulled the Impala up next to a hotel, putting it in park. He leaned over the seat, snagging his duffle bag with two fingers. Alex got out, closing the passenger door before opening the back door to get her stuff. Behind her, she could hear someone talking. Sounded like one of those street evangelists. As Dean rounded the Impala, the man turned to them. "Excuse me, friend. But have you taken time out to think about God's plan for you?"

Dean stopped to look at him. "Too fucking much, pal." Then he entered the motel. Alex snorted in agreement, and followed. Dean checked them in, and led them up the stairs to their new room. "You know if he's found his true vessel or whatever?"

Alex hesitated. "Um, I'm fairly certain he has a vessel, but not his true vessel. That vessel hasn't consented yet."

"You mean that son of a bitch seriously needs people's consent?" Dean threw open the door, tossing his bag onto the bed.

"Well, yeah, he's an angel after all." Alex tossed her stuff onto the other bed, looking around.

"Well, then who's his true vessel? You should at least know that." Dean stopped talking when his phone rang. "Hey Cas." He listened for a while. "We're talking about the Colt, right? As in, the Colt?" Dean closed the curtains that hung over the only window.

Alex wandered over to him. "Cas?" she asked.

Dean nodded. "Well, that doesn't make any sense," he told the angel on the other line. "I mean, why would demons keep a gun around that, uh, kills demons?"

"Speaker," Alex told him. He did so, and Cas' voice came over.

"What? I didn't -- I didn't get that."

Dean laughed. "You know, it's kind of funny. Talking to a messenger of God on a cellphone. It's like, you know, watching a Hell's Angel ride a moped."

"This isn't funny, Dean. The voice says I'm almost out of minutes." That made Alex laugh. "Alex?"

"Yeah, hey. What else has the voice said?"

"Okay, alright, stop teasing the angel. I'm--I'm telling you, Cas, those mooks have melted down the gun by now."

"Well, I hear differently. And if it's true and if you're still set on the insane task of killing the devil, this is how we do it."

Dean pondered this. "Okay. Where do we start?"

"Where are you now?"

"Kansas City," Alex answered

"Century Motel, room 113." Dean reached over and grabbed the room's key.

"I'll be there immediately." Castiel said.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa." Dean stopped him. "No. No, come on man. I just drove for sixteen hours straight, okay? I'm human. There's stuff I got to do."

"What stuff?"

"Eat, for example. In this case, sleep. I just need like four hours once and a while, okay?"