It's a late autumn evening when a black impala drives off to a field in the middle of nowhere, someplace in the states.
The man who exits the car has a bottle of beer in his hand. His name is Dean Winchester, and he has just left the motel where his younger brother, Sam Winchester, is fast asleep.
Dean isn't planning to do something stupid, really. He just wants to get away from his brother at the moment, and he wants to have a chat with a good friend... Yeah... Friend.
He sits down on the hood of his car and opens the bottle. He takes a swig, before he starts a little prayer.
"Cass, I want your feathery face right down here, if you don't mind." He crosses his arms over his chest, but hears nothing. "Please?" He peeks up to the sky.
"Hello, Dean."
The man seems...off. Tired. He needed a break, if the beer in his hand was any indication. Cas wonders what he and Sam need help with
