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Summary
It’s not like Dean thought that this whole situation was bullshit, because it was. It was complete and utter horseshit. He had no idea what was waiting for them when they arrived. No idea who they were running to save. No details, nothing, notta, zilch. The hunter kept his eyes trained on the road, trying to think of all the possibilities that this might be. Angel business? Maybe. Demon problem? Possibly? Apocalypse #3? It could quite possibly be, given their luck. All he knew was that when Cas suddenly popped his feathery ass into the kitchen, scaring him shitless, looking like he was on the edge of an anxiety attack, that they had to go, and go right then.
He only wished he knew what he was getting into.