#c.dean

"Sure-" Sam mumbled from his place in the passengers' seat, not quite sounding all that alright, "It's just. It's october and we had to take on a case with a possibly haunted hotel? It feels like such a Halloween set up is all."

“We’re easy targets,” Sam shrugged a bit, fiddling with a pen between his fingers. Practically everyone knew who they were. Angels, demons and if a creature knew who they were they wanted them just as dead as hunters wanted them dead, “Doesn’t help that we actively search out things that want to kill us,” he added with a humorless smile.

​Sam sighed, giving his brother the gloriest of bitch faces he could muster, “I’m fine,” he huffed, rubbing the back of his head. Yeah it hurt like a bitch, but he’d been lucky in his... lack of luck.  “I guess I thought my leg had healed better than this,” he pointed out, carefully sitting up. “As if you’d be able to carry me anyway,” he quipped, giving Dean a gentle shove, “Help me up will you?”

“Sam! I’m sorry it took so long. I have tried so hard to get you out,” Castiel apologized, backing away, but trying to reason with his old friend, “I’ve tried to put your soul back in your body, but-” “-It’s not quite a soul anymore is it?” Sam asked and lunged at the man, but by now Cas had mojo’d away. Leaving Lucifer’s favorite little chew toy back on earth. Back in his old body. But not quite right.

“Yes and no?” Sam frowned in confusion while trying to help Dean to his feet, “Care to elaborate on that? What happened?” he asked, worry quite evident on his face.

“Is that supposed to be funny?” Sam asked, refusing the remove his hand from one of the “metalcuts” on his chest, “It’s not,” he added, unamused and downright grumpy with how their hunt had went. The cuts weren’t lethal at least so there was that, but his big brother’s attempt at humor was a tad annoying. “You avoided getting any injury?” he asked.

His cheek stung from where his dad’s fist had connected and while it could have been a harder punch, it still had done it’s job. To silence the temperamental youth. Sam could see the regret cross John’s face, but he turned and left the beat down motelroom in the middle of nowhere. Immediately turning his head down as his older brother decided that moment to come in.  Sam still pushed through and left without a word.