Dean pulled up to the motel and got out of his Chevy Impala. He went to his room to find Sam right where he had left him, on the bed typing away on his laptop. Sam looked up as Dean entered.
“So?” Sam asked.
“Just a poltergeist,” Dean replied, “Burned its bones, so the Johnsons should be safe.”
“Good” Sam responded automatically, returning all of his attention to the computer.
“Alright dude what’s with you?” Dean asked angrily. “You’ve been distracted this entire case, you wouldn’t even come with me to burn the bones, and you know crap always goes down at that part. The ghost we’re ganking gets pissed off and tries to kill us. I could’ve used backup.”
Sam sighed. “It’s just—Remember last case? When that guy, Derek, said that England needs more of our help than America? Well I looked it up, Dean, and he’s right. England has had some crazy things happen to them the past few years. Especially around Christmas.”
Dean slouched onto his bed. “Okay so England has some crap going on. It hasn’t ended yet, it’s not like there aren’t any hunters there right?”
“I guess but it gets weirder. Around the time of all of these catastrophes, there has been a sighting of this weird blue box. People today say that it looks like an old police box, but there have been sightings of it dating back centuries. And almost every single time that it’s spotted something potentially world ending happens. It sounds big. I think we should check it out.”
“Man, I don’t want to go to England. The people there are dicks and we’d have to ride on a plane for like a day. You know I don’t do planes.”
“Dean come on. People are dying, this blue box thing it could be like a Pandora’s Box thing or a Devil’s Gate, or... I don’t know, something bad!”
“Can’t we just call Cas to check it out or something?”
“Cas has his own problems! Look can we just go and if we don’t find anything in like a week we can come right back home? This could be really big, Dean. Dean? DEAN!” Sam grabbed the nearest object, a book that he had been reading earlier, and chucked it at his brother who had drifted of to sleep.
“OW!” Dean shouted, startled but awake. “Fine, we can go to stupid England, but if I here one dude say ‘cheerio’ or any of that crap, I’m out! Got it?”
“Fine.” Sam scoffed, “Let’s get packed and go.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dean gripped the armrests of his plane seat like his life depended on it. Next to him, Sam had his nose stuck in a book.
“Sammy?” Dean said through his teeth.
“What Dean?”
“Can you grab me a beer or something?”
“Seriously?”
“I can’t do this without a damn drink Sam!”
“Dean, the plane hasn’t even taken off yet.”
“I know. I just-- I hate planes, Sam.”
“Fine.” Sam got up from his seat and walked down the aisle. Dean closed his eyes and tried to focus on not thinking about all the things that could go wrong. Technical error, storms, pilots falling asleep, not to mention supernatural issues like a demon taking over the plane and crashing it to the ground simply to kill the Winchesters.
“Hi Dean.” Came a deep voice from next to him. Dean jumped, his eyes flicking open with fear.
“Dammit Cas! You trying to kill me?”
“No, I’m trying to talk to you.”
“It’s a figure of-- nevermind. What do you want?”
“I heard you were flying to England.”
“Yeah, so?”
“Why?”
“Sam got wind of some weird stuff going on over there, all centered around this weird blue box that just kind of pops up whenever something bad happens.”
“Blue box?”
“Yeah, it’s like one of those old police boxes or something--”
“Dean,” Cas said, staring intensely into Dean’s eyes, “Don’t go near that box.”
“Cas, it’s a box. What’s it going to do that we haven’t already handled?”
“That box is a part of many prophecies. You must not mess with it.”
Sam returned up the aisle carrying two bottles of beerl.
“Cas? What are you doing---?” Before Sam could finish his sentence, Cas was gone.
“What did he want?” He asked Dean.
“Get this, according to Cas, the blue box is part of ‘many prophecies’ and we should stay away.”
“Are we?”
“Hell no. Now give me that.” Dean released his tight grip on the armrest to quickly grab and down his drink, then returned to hanging on for his life just as the plane jerked and began to move.
“The damn thing is moving.”
“That’s what planes do Dean. Just try to relax.”
“Relax my ass.” Dean grumbled as the plane began to climb and the Winchesters were off on their way to London.
