Lindsay

Dean's eyes lit up. "Why not? What did you see?"

"That was not an ordinary fireball." The deputy police chief's eyes were full of fear, and his body was shaking slightly. "It was... pure white. It was so bright that I couldn't open my eyes, and I felt like I was going to go blind. The gas station was razed to the ground, and everyone was... too scary. Then I saw a man kneeling there, very focused. There was no injury on his body, not even dust. In the ruins."

"Do you know him? What's his name?" Dean asked, already having the answer in his heart.

"Donnie Fennerman - the mechanic there." The deputy chief said. "I have worked there for more than 20 years. He is an honest man. He doesn't talk much and is a very nice person. He has never been shy with others."

"Then I guess he... disappeared into thin air?" Dean asked.

The deputy police chief sneered and shook his head. "No, Kolchak. He is St. Peter's Hospital. The doctor said that he suffered severe mental trauma and became a vegetative state. He has no response to all external stimuli."

Dean nodded and put away the notebook. "St. Peter's Hospital. Thank you, Deputy Sheriff. You have helped us a lot."

"You're welcome," the deputy said. "I hope you can find out about this. I always feel that something bad is going to happen recently."

Dean and Castiel walked out of the police station and got into Impala. Dean closed the car door hard, making a loud "bang" sound.

"Damn it! Cass! What did I tell you? Stop talking! You almost exposed us!" Dean turned around and roared at Castiel.

Castiel looked at him expressionlessly, his tone flat. "What I said is the truth."

"I know what you said is the truth!" Dean rolled his eyes with a helpless tone. "But ordinary people won't believe it! They will think we are crazy! Can you listen to me next time? Stop talking nonsense, my brother!"

Castiel nodded. "Okay."

Dean sighed and started the car. Impala let out a low roar and drove towards St. Peter's Hospital.

3:17 pm, the wards of St. Peter's Hospital, Donnie.

The ward was quiet, and the electrocardiogram instrument made a beeping sound. Sunlight streamed in through the window, and Donnie Fennerman was lying on the hospital bed, staring at the ceiling motionlessly. There was no expression on his face, like an empty shell without a soul. Various tubes were inserted into his body and connected to the instruments next to him.

Dean and Castiel stood beside the hospital bed, looking at Donnie. Dean felt a chill in his heart and had goose bumps.

"I guess he is no longer Raphael." Dean whispered to Castiel.

Castiel. "It's just an empty container. Raphael has left his body. His consciousness was destroyed by the power of Raphael and will never recover."

Dean looked at Donnie's empty eyes and shuddered. "So if Michael enters my body, what will I become like this? Become an empty shell without a mind and a soul?"

Castiel turned his head and looked at Dean "No, not at all. Michael is much more powerful. It will only be worse for you. He will completely swallow your consciousness, and you will cease to exist completely. Not even a trace will be left."

Dean shuddered and stopped talking. He turned his head and looked out the window.

: Is this what happens after I say yes? I become an empty shell, controlled by Michael to fight a war between him and Lucifer. Kill Lucifer or be killed by Lucifer, and then what? Then Michael or Lucifer will rule the world, and humans will still become slaves.

This is an abandoned house located in the suburbs. The walls are covered with all kinds of weird graffiti, and the windows are boarded up. The room is covered with dust and cobwebs, and the furniture has been moved away, leaving only a dilapidated table and a few chairs.

Dean and Castiel were sitting in front of the old table. There was a ceramic jar on the table. The jar was brown and had some ancient Enochian Sigil painted on it, glowing with a strange luster in the dim light.

"Where have you been? I was looking for you everywhere just now." Dean asked, wiping the dust on the table with his hand.

"Jerusalem." Castiel said.

Dean raised his eyebrows with a curious look on his face. "Oh. How is it? Is there any fun place?"

"Drought. There is sand everywhere." Castiel said, without any fluctuation in his tone.

Dean pointed at the ceramic jar with a puzzled look on his face. "What is that? The souvenir you brought back from Jerusalem?"

"The oil is very special and very rare." Cassidio said. "It is the holy oil dug out from under the cross of Jesus' crucifixion. It has a history of more than two thousand years."

There was a smile on Dean's lips. "Okay, let's trap Raphael with delicious vinaigrette? And then mix him a salad?"

Castiel looked at him expressionlessly, ignoring his joke. "No. When Holy Oil burns, no angel can pass through the flames, otherwise he will die. This is the only way to trap the archangel."

Dean's smile disappeared and his expression became serious. "So when will your ceremony be held?"

"At sunrise." Castiel said.

Dean sighed and leaned back on the chair with a look of helplessness. "Tell me one thing - you keep saying that we are going to trap this guy, but isn't that like using a butterfly net to catch a hurricane? Raphael is an archangel."

"No." Castiel said. "It's harder."

Dean was silent for a while, then raised his head and looked at Castiel with complicated eyes. "Do we have a chance to survive? Tell the truth."

"You do." Castiel said in a calm tone. "You are Michael's container. No angel dares to hurt you. I'm not sure. Raphael hates me to the core, and he will kill me without hesitation."

Dean's heart sank. "So you will probably die tomorrow?"

"Yes." Castiel said, without any fear in his tone, as if he was talking about something that had nothing to do with him.

Dean looked at Castiel's calm face and felt uncomfortable in his heart. He had known Castiel for so long and watched him slowly change from an angel without emotions to an angel with some emotions. He didn't want to see Castiel die.

"Oh. Okay." Dean cleared his throat, trying to hide his emotions. "The last night of your life. What are your plans? Do you want to do something special?"

"I think I'll sit here quietly." Castiel said. "Waiting for the sunrise."

Dean looked at him in disbelief, eyes wide. "Dude. Please. Anything? Huh? Wine, women? You've been with women before, right? Or at least with angels? Are you trying to tell me that you've never done anything you should do in heaven?"

Castiel looked away in embarrassment, his face slightly red. "I never had a chance, okay? I'm a warrior and I've been fighting all my life. I don't have time to do the things you said."

Dean patted Castiel on the shoulder with a serious look. "Okay. Let me tell you something. I have two things that are absolutely certain. First, Bert and Ernie are gay. Second, you can't die a virgin. Not under my nose. Let's go."

Castiel looked at him with confusion. "Where are you going?"

Dean grinned, showing his white teeth, and a sly look flashed in his eyes. "Go to a place where you can get rid of your virginity. Believe me, you will thank me."

8:15pm, strip club.

The pink lights in the club were dim, and the neon lights were flashing with colorful lights. There were several strippers dancing on the stage. They were wearing thongs and twisting their bodies. The men in the audience cheered. The air was filled with the smell of alcohol, perfume and cigarettes, which mixed together to form a unique and dazzling atmosphere.

Dean and Castiel sat in front of the bar, drinking beer. Dean looked at the stage excitedly, his eyes almost straightened, and whistled from time to time. Castiel looked around, his expression a little uncomfortable, and his brows were furrowed tightly.

"This is a den of sin." Castiel whispered to Dean, with a hint of disgust in his tone. "I shouldn't be here. This is blasphemy against God."

Dean patted him on the back and said with a smile. "Man, you have openly resisted Heaven. Sin is one of the benefits. Relax and enjoy it. Life is too short to enjoy yourself. Especially at the end of the world."

At this time, a blonde girl wearing a tight-fitting uniform came over. She had a plump, plus-sized S-shaped figure, rough skin, heavy makeup on her face, and bright red lipstick on her lips. Her smile was charming, and there was a hint of provocation in her eyes.

"Hi." She looked at Castiel and said with a smile, her voice was so sweet. "What's your name? Handsome guy."

Dean quickly answered for Castiel, with a look of excitement on his face, even more excited than being accosted himself. "Cass! His name is Cass. What's your name?"

"Chastity." The blonde said, giving Castiel a wink.

Dean couldn't help laughing, laughing so hard that he almost fell off the chair. "Chastity? Wow. Isn't this fate, man? Huh? Well, he likes you and you like him, so... so be it."

Dean took out two hundred dollars from his wallet and handed it to Castiel.

"Hey, listen." Dean whispered to him, with a serious tone, like a big brother imparting experience. "Take this. If she asks for a credit card, just say no. Just do the basics, okay? Don't order anything that's not on the menu. Go ahead, little tiger."

Castiel hesitated for a moment, looked at Dean, and then at Chastity. Then he nodded and followed Chastity into a private room at the back.

Dean was sitting in front of the bar, drinking beer with a proud smile on his face. He imagined Castiel being at a loss and couldn't help but laugh again.

A few minutes later, a scream came from behind, the sound was sharp and harsh.

Dean was so startled that he almost spilled the beer in his hand. He quickly put down the cup and rushed to the back room, thinking something bad in his heart.

"Damn! What happened?"

As soon as he ran to the corridor, he saw Chastity rushing out of the room angrily. She was holding a glass bottle in her hand and smashed it in the direction of Castiel. The glass bottle hit the wall, shattering and splattering glass shards on the floor.

"Fuck you too! Damn perverts! Get out of here, both of you!" Chastity saw Dean and screamed at him again, his face flushed red and his eyes filled with anger.

After saying that, she angrily grabbed her coat and ran out of the club without looking back, leaving behind a group of stunned guests. The music continued, but everyone stopped what they were doing, looked over, and started talking.

Dean walked into the room with a confused look on his face and saw Castiel standing there with his tie crooked and two shirt buttons unbuttoned, with a confused and innocent expression on his face. He didn't know what he had done wrong.

"What on earth did you do? To make her so angry?" Dean asked, looking unbelievable.

Castiel looked at him innocently and spread his hands. "I don't know. I just looked into her eyes, and I just told her that it was not her fault that her father Gene left. It was because he always hated his job, and because he had always been secretly in love with the horse next door to the female neighbor. Then she started screaming, saying that I was a pervert and told me to get out."

Dean was stunned for three seconds, and then laughed. He laughed so hard that he couldn't straighten his waist, squatting on the ground with his stomach in his hands, and tears came out.

"Oh, no, man! Hahahahaha! This industry is generally based on absentee fathers! You actually talked to her about this? Do you want to provide her with psychological counseling and persuade her to come to shore? Hahahaha!" Dean said while laughing, laughing so hard that his words were incoherent.

Castiel became even more confused and frowned. "What I said is the truth. She should know the truth."

Dean finally stopped laughing, wiped the tears from the corners of his eyes, patted Castiel on the shoulder, laughing so hard that his whole body was shaking. "Oh my God, this is the funniest thing I have ever seen in my life. We should go. Hurry up, the boss will call the police if we stay any longer."

The two walked out of the strip club, and the night wind blew with a chill. Dean leaned against the car door of Impala, still laughing, his shoulders twitching.

"It's so funny. Phew." Dean gasped and said with a smile. "I haven't laughed so hard in a long time."

Castiel looked at him in confusion. "What's so funny? I just told the truth."

Dean shook his head, the smile on his face slowly faded, and a trace of sadness flashed in his eyes. "It's nothing. You don't understand. Let's go, we have to get up early tomorrow to catch Raphael."

Oklahoma Garber, Little Italian Restaurant. 7:12 p. m.

The lights in the restaurant are bright and soft Italian jazz is playing. The air is filled with the aroma of tomato sauce, cheese and garlic. Italian landscape paintings and some old photos are hung on the walls, creating a warm and romantic atmosphere.

Sam and Lindsay were sitting by the window, with Caesar salad and spaghetti bolognese in front of them. There was a candle lit on the table, and the candlelight swayed, reflecting on Lindsay's face, which looked particularly gentle. The street lights outside the window turned on, and the dim light shone on the street, adding a touch of warmth to the small town.

Lindsay rolled the noodles with a fork, but looked at Sam, the curiosity in his eyes almost overflowing. "So, are you going to tell me who those people who just came to you are? Let alone 'hunting friends'. I can see that they are not ordinary people. Their eyes, and the temperament on them, are different from others."

Sam sighed, put down his fork, and did not look into Lindsay's eyes. "Okay. Well... we used to be peers."

"What industry?" Lindsay asked.

Sam avoided her gaze again, picked up the water glass and took a sip of water. "How is your salad? Is it delicious?"

Lindsay smiled, put down his fork, and looked straight at him with his chin in his hands, with a hint of slyness in his eyes. "Witness protection program, right? Are you a mafia? Or an undercover agent of Federal Bureau of Investigation?"

Sam shook his head and smiled bitterly. "I am not a mafia. I am not an undercover agent."

"Okay. I understand." Lindsay said, the smile on his face faded. "I didn't mean to pry. My fault. Everyone has their own secrets. I won't force you."

Sam was silent for a moment, then looked up at her, eyes full of pain. "I used to work with my brothers. To be honest, I was really good at that job. But... I made some mistakes. You know, I did some things that I'm not proud of. A lot of people got hurt because of it. And some people... died. It's all my fault. If it weren't for me, they would still be alive now."

Lindsay looked at Sam, her eyes became gentle. She stretched out her hand and gently placed it on Sam's hand. Sam's hand was very cold.

"What were you addicted to at the time?" Lindsay asked with a gentle tone.

Sam frowned in confusion. "What?"

"Please." Lindsay smiled. "You are a drug addict, I can tell. I have seen too many drug addicts. Your eyes, your actions, and your always preoccupied look. These are all too familiar to me."

Lindsay said, taking out a silver sobriety commemorative coin from his pocket and placing it on the table. The commemorative coin glowed softly under the candlelight, with the words "three years of sobriety" engraved on it.

"I have been sober for three years." Lindsay said, with a flash of pain in his eyes. "Three years ago, I was a complete alcoholic. I drank heavily every day, and once I hit someone with my car. Fortunately, the person only suffered minor injuries, but I almost killed him. Since then, I have never touched alcohol again. I know the feeling of being controlled by inner demons, and I know how difficult it is to change."

Sam looked at her in surprise, eyes widened. "You work in a bar. You have to face so many drinks every day."

"Isn't it the same for you?" Lindsay smiled, picked up the commemorative coin, and rubbed it gently. "Listen, 'Keith'... I don't know you, and I'm not the best person to give you advice. But I know one thing: no one's bad deeds are so serious that they cannot be forgiven, and no one cannot change. As long as you want, you can start over. The past is past, what matters is what you will do in the future."

Sam looked at Lindsay's sincere eyes, and was moved in his heart. His nose felt sore, and he almost shed tears. He lowered his head, looked at the alcohol-free commemorative coins on the table, and was silent for a long time.

: Does she believe I can change? She doesn't even know what I've done. I'm a monster. I personally released Lucifer.

10:37 pm, Hoyt's Bar.

The bar was closed, and only Sam was cleaning the table. He was wiping the table, and empty wine bottles and paper towels were scattered on the floor. It was dark outside the window, with only a few street lights flickering. The bar was quiet, and only his voice of wiping the table echoed.

The door was pushed open suddenly with a "clang" sound. Tim and Reggie walked in, with expressions of anger and sadness on their faces, and their eyes were bloodshot. Tim held a switchblade in his hand, the blade shining coldly under the light. Reggie held a baseball bat in his hand.

Sam had a bad feeling when he saw them like this and stopped what he was doing. "Hey, what's the matter?"

Tim looked at him coldly, his voice was hoarse and full of hatred. "Do you have anything to tell us, Sam?"

Sam frowned, looking confused. "What? No. I don't understand what you are talking about."

"Are you sure?" Tim took a step forward with cold eyes. "You have nothing to confess to us?"

"I don't... Oh God." Sam's heart sank. "Are you okay? Where is Steve? I thought you went to Town of Holly together."

Tim's voice became shrill and his eyes filled with tears. "Oh, Steve is fine. His... intestines were scattered on the curb outside Town of Holly's nickel and dime store. He's dead, Sam. Dead. All because of you."

Sam's face turned pale. "I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. I know this can't make up for anything, but I'm really sorry."

"'I'm sorry' is useless, Sam!" Tim roared angrily, and the switchblade in his hand bounced away with a "snap". "I'm sorry I can't let Steve come back to life!"

"What do you want me to say?" Sam took a step back, raised his hands, and made a gesture of surrender. "I have quit. I am no longer a hunter. I don't want to have anything to do with anything supernatural anymore."

"The truth." Tim said, gritting his teeth. "Okay. Then I will tell you some of my truth. We entered the town, captured a demon, and then were ambushed by ten other demons. Steve died. But you see, this demon... He sued He told us something. Crazy stuff. It was about you, Sam. He said, it was you who released Lucifer. It was you who opened the door to Hell. It was you who caused all of this. All the disasters, all the deaths, it's because of you."

"Devils can lie." Sam said, his voice trembling. "You know. They are the best at lying."

Tim took a step forward and pointed the knife at Sam's throat. The blade was only a few centimeters away from Sam's skin. His hands kept shaking because of anger. "Really? I'm asking you one last time. The truth. Tell me now!"

At this time, the door was pushed open again. Lindsay walked in. She originally came back to get the wallet she forgot at the bar. When she opened the door and saw the knife in Tim's hand, she screamed in fright.

"What happened? Keith, what is going on with you?" Lindsay looked at them in horror.