Rogue (Supernatural) [Rogue Trilogy] {1}

31. Dixon, Missouri

31. Dixon, Missouri

A loud sound wakes me up out of a sound sleep. Alarmed, I roll out of bed, batons at the ready. Instead, I find Dean in my doorway. He looks rather amused.

"Do you mind?" I ask. "I was sleeping, or trying to anyway." I tilt my head. "How long have I been out?"

"About two hours."

"We've only been back two hours, and you felt the need to disturb the peace?" I rub my eyes with my knuckles. "I hate you sometimes."

"As much as you say you do, you never actually do."

"What could possibly require the rude awakening?"

"Cas."

I wake up a little more. "Something wrong with him?"

"No, he just said something was going down in Missouri. Come on, grab a bag, and change your clothes. We're heading out soon."

"You woke Sam up too?" I groan. "Dude, if I was awake enough, I'd really love to punch you in the face for this."

"Make that two," comes Sam's sleepy voice. He's slugging his way past my bedroom door. "And don't hold back either, Jo. If it makes you feel any better, I almost shot him."

"Kinda wished you had."

"You don't mean that," Dean says.

I snort. "Oh, really?"

"Just get moving, okay? Try to look bright-eyed and bushy-tailed."

I shake my head, intentionally knocking into Dean on my way out. I can always change my clothes later, I'm not really in the mood to.

I don't need to pack, as my stuff is still in my truck. I'd been too exhausted to make extra effort to pull my things out and carry them back inside the bunker. I don't find Sam, but Dean, as I walk into the main room of the bunker. He's packing his duffel, and something in me tells me that the First Blade is going to be part of his arsenal.

"All right," says Sam, still sleepy. "What's up?"

"I called Cas," says Dean. "He said there's something going down in Missouri."

"What kind of something?" I ask through a yawn.

"He said he couldn't talk about it over the phone."

I scratch my head. "Why?"

"Because he is a weird guy, okay? He's a weird, dorky, little guy. But he happens to have an army of angels behind him, and even though I hate to say it, if we're gonna take a shot a Metatron, they might be useful."

My eyes narrow at the First Blade in Dean's hand. "Well, do you think we need the First Blade? Why don't we just leave it here?"

"We talked about this, and we decided that—"

"No," Sam cuts in. "I don't know what you talked to Jo about, but in all fairness, you and I didn't decide. You did."

"Okay, I decided that a hockey stick that can kill anything might come in handy, so sue me."

"How many times have we been around this block?" Sam asks our older brother. "Magic that powerful comes at a price, and right now we don't know what that price is."

"He's not wrong, Dean," I say neutrally.

"I'm fine," Dean insists. "I'm fan-friggin'-tastic."

"And we're glad, honestly," says Sam. "I'm not saying we bury the thing."