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Tell me about it.

Is this guy for real?

Yeah...he is. He's an angel.

Damn.

Trust me 'Damn' isn't the only thing I've been thinking lately when it comes to him.

What the hell is going on?

Other than he's driving me insane. Nothing. Nothing that concerns anyone else...

Right. 'Course not.

It's dangerous, Jo.

Oh, really? I had no idea.

Sarcasm is not something I want to deal with right now. rubs temples Plus it's complicated as fuck. It's been like, three years...

Don't treat me like I'm an idiot, and I won't be sarcastic.

Alright, I won't. The angel brought Dean back from Hell.

Thank you.

Yeah, he told me that.

What else did he tell you?

That things are bad.

Not that different from any of the rest of them. Oh, wait. One difference. Still haven't found any way to either keep him away or slow him down or anything.

Yeah, and apparently he's the only thing that can pull people outta hell. Know anything about that?

*rubs his face* You don't know about that part, I take it? *a beat, but... it's Jo. And he owes her.*

Back when the Roadhouse burned. A bit after. Something happened and I made a deal. Which got kind of mixed up heavily with the whole demon war too... anyhoo. I didn't get out of it and wound up in hell. And then I woke up, upstairs, well, kinda. Having no friggin' clue as to why I was breathing again. And then freak-boy shows up and... *shrugs* makes everybody frustrated with his allergy to clear answers.

No, I didn't. Although apparently everyone else did.

Welcome back, then.

I thought that possibly Ellen knew. Might've been wrong. It's not exactly something I went and advertised, though. Even I don't think it was one of my smartest decisions.

*sighs, tiny smile* Thank. How... How've you been holding up?

Well, that explains why I didn't know.

Still breathing, so not bad.

*nods* Part of the deal was that if I tried to get out of it... that which I was dealing for would be off. And so I figured - if I can't call for help, might as well do as much work as I could while I could do it. And that's what I did for a year. Hunt.

*grin there now* Oh you sure have a point there.

Must've been important, whatever it was.

I can't remember who said it, but somebody told me once that as long as you can get out of bed in the morning, you've got nothing to complain about. Sounds about right to me.

Something I couldn't not do. So... yeah. But just fyi, deals with demons? NOT a good idea. They always have more barbs and hooks into them than one sees - and they'll twist what you want and what you mean and what you intend real bad. It's a screw up. Don't do it. *has since reached the conclusion that he wasn't fully sane at the time, but... hello, bad family history*

*snorts* That makes a bit o'sense.

I'll remember that.

...Did you really just say 'a bit o'sense?' *because yeah, that's amusing*

*half-smile, almost as sad as approving* Good.

*blinks, then snickers* Why, I believe I did.

Are you okay? Because you're talking really weird.

Yeah. Freak-boy back there dragged me through some stuff that I'm supposed to've known. Wasn't a joyride. *shrugs* Still trying to make sense of things, after.

Right. *slightly confused*

What's going on?

*sighs, rubs his neck* Seems that angels can 'on occasion' bend time. He took me back, like thirty-five years. The gist of things is, Sam and I are screwed, but we knew that already, and, bonus, not even the crowd upstairs knows precisely what the demons really have planned. Yet.

*wry* Things're bad, but I'm betting they're going to get worse before they get better. Don't I just love bearing good news.

I'm not sure I believe the crowd upstairs knows anything at this point.

I need a drink.

That doesn't sound like a bad idea at all.

*sighs* They know some things and are absurdly ignorant about the other. Castiel almost managed to waste me just trying to talk to me at first.

*plain and simple* I still don't trust him.

*slightly amused* So glad to have your approval.

I don't trust him either.

*slight wink*

*nods* And I mean, not in the 'he's not what he says he is' way. In the too-fucking-much-juice-at-his-disposal kinda way. *wry* I'm thankful that he yanked me up and all. But owing him one - or just owing him - isn't a thought that makes me comfortable. He'll collect, and how.

*small smile, small headshake*

I just think that if he were really such a good guy, where's he been?

OOC: Damn notification decides to show up 4 days later. *grumbles*

What?

*rubs his face* Upstairs? Interested in other crap rather than what we've been facin' down here? *shrugs* If their involvement in this war and all that's about it had started a lot earlier, there'd... have been a lot fewer victims. And need for soldiers.

OOC: Huh. LJ sent it to over snail mail? ;)

Nothing.

Exactly. They could've stopped this whole thing before it started, so why didn't they?

OOC: Either that or Incredimail hates me. Both are very possible.

You sure?

Beats me. Or why ~~Sam and~~ I'm the one who gets yanked on their chain, or they're trying to, that... uh. Beats me too.

OOC: haha. Aww.

Positive.

I guess you're just unlucky.

Good.

I really doubt luck has anything to do with it. It's all somebody's doing - or something's.

Good?

So what are you going to do?