Dean pushed the door open, shotgun cocked in his hand. He eyed the room. “Sammy, where are you?”
Sam burst through another door. “Did you see anything?”
“No.” Sam lowered the shotgun.
“Salt pellets might not work, you know,” Sam said.
“I keep telling you, it’s a demon. Nothing else.”
“But, the bright light—“
Dean cut him off. “Are you gonna start in again?”
“Why is it so impossible for you to believe that we’re chasing something else this time?”
“Like what?” Dean assumed a defiant stance.
“Give me a break, Sammy. This is like any other job. People keep dying and we’re going to hunt it down and stop it from killing again. End of story.” Dean checked inside a closet.
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because.” Dean turned around to face Sam. “We’ve been hunting these things for years. They’re demons, that’s all. Nothing else.”
The door creaked open.
Dean whirled around, shotgun pointed and ready to fire.
“Don’t shoot.” A withered man crackled as he attempted to raise his hands.
Sam rushed to him. “What are you doing out here?”
“I check on the place now and then.”
Dean reluctantly lowered the shotgun. “Sorry about that.”
“Why are you in my cabin?”
“Oh, us, we’re, uh—“ Sam started.
“Gas inspectors. Someone reported a leak and we came to look things over. The shotgun’s for safety.”
“There hasn’t been gas here for years. I don’t even use it anymore, not since my Edith passed over. It was our special place.”
“We’re sorry to bother you then,” Dean said.
Sam glanced around the room. “It’s getting lighter in here.”
The old man smiled as light spilled into the room.
Dean pulled the shotgun close. He shielded his eyes.
“Edith? Is that you?” The old man reached out. “I’ve been praying for you to come and get me. It’s finally time.”
Sam and Dean stepped back while the light took the form of a young woman.
“It is you. You’re so young and beautiful. Like the day we met.”
Sam grabbed Dean’s shoulder. “Don’t shoot.”
Mesmerized by the powerful light, Dean watched it envelope the old man and whisk him away. In a flash, it was over.
Dean rubbed his eyes. “Why’d you stop me, Sam?”
“I think she was an angel.”
“Oh, come on. That poor dude was taken by a demon and we didn’t do anything to prevent it.”
“No, Dean. I really think she was an angel.”
“I should’ve blown her away.”
Sam moved close to Dean. “I think she was sent here to bring him back.”
Sam shrugged. “I’m not sure.”
“You believe that?”
“After what we’ve seen, how can we say there aren’t angels?”
“’Cause.” Dean jutted out his chin. “There’s not.”
“Why are you so certain?”
Dean walked to the window. He gazed outside and swallowed hard. “Because, Sam, if there was,” he paused, “why didn’t any of them save Mom?”