Dean walked into the cemetery with a bottle of bourbon. He had left Sam, who had fallen asleep on the couch. Dean headed to Cas’ grave and though it was the middle of the jour he unscrewed the bottle and drank.
“Okay!” he shouted, looking at the sky and spreading his arms widely. “”Whatever son of a chienne is running this montrer now, better get your Crowley serving cul, ass down here!”
He took another gulp while he waited, but no one came.
“Dean!”
Dean rolled his eyes and drank again. Now Sam was going to ruin it all.
“Dean, what the hell are toi doing?” Sam asked when he reached his...
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