Sam suddenly turned to look at him, unable to believe that these words came from Dean's mouth. Dean, who never admits defeat and always fights to the last second, would actually say such words of resignation.
Just as he was about to open his mouth to retort, the church bell suddenly rang.
Dang, dang, dang, the dull bells echoed over the town, one after another, making people's hearts tense.
The people in the bar stopped all their movements for an instant, picked up their coats and walked out one after another. No one said anything, but their movements were terrifyingly neat.
"Leah has another hallucination." Paul picked up the coat hanging on the back of the chair and raised his chin at them, "Let's go together?"
Dean was stunned for a moment, then turned to look at Sam: "Are you going?"
Sam twitched his lips sarcastically and stood up. "You know me, I am very religious."
When they rushed back to the church, the hall was already full of people.
Leah stood holding on to the table next to the altar, his face as pale as paper, his forehead covered in cold sweat, and his breathing was short. It was obvious that he had just experienced a severe headache.
Pastor Gideon stood beside her and raised his voice to everyone in the audience. "Leah got the oracle. Talmadge Road There is a group of demons gathered three to five miles away, and there are a lot of them. They will attack the town before dawn."
There was a low commotion in the audience, but no one was panicked.
"Who wants to go with me to clear them out?" As soon as the pastor finished speaking, Rob was the first to raise his hand. Paul smiled and also raised his hand, and joked, "It's just a good time to stretch your muscles." This caused a low laugh.
Dean also raised his hand and gave Sam a hand. He didn't want to meddle in other people's business, but he couldn't just watch a group of ordinary people rushing in front.
The pastor lowered his head and began to pray, and everyone in the audience closed their eyes and bowed their heads. Dean stood in the crowd, with his eyelids drooping, and muttered in a low voice, "You can skip praying," and did not lower his head.
While praying, Paul secretly took out the wine bottle from his arms, shook it at Rob, and took a sip.
Rob frowned and glared at him, Paul shrugged indifferently and put the wine bottle back.
The group of people drove to the abandoned house Talmadge Road.
The house was dark and damp, with large sections of walls peeling off, and a strong smell of sulfur filling the air. The moonlight shone in through the broken windows, casting broken light spots on the dusty ground.
Everyone divided into small groups and went in, and a battle broke out instantly. The roar of salt gun, the sizzling sound of holy water being splashed, and the voices of townspeople chanting "exorcism spells" mixed together into a chaotic mess.
Dean held the devil's dagger and fought in close quarters. He turned sideways to avoid the knife swung by the devil. With a flip of his wrist, the dagger stabbed into the opponent's heart accurately. Black smoke spurted out. He raised his foot and kicked the corpse away without changing his expression. His movements were crisp and clean.
Sam endured the pain in his shoulder, leaned against the corridor and used a salt gun to suppress it remotely. He shot accurately every time. Every time he fired, the wound on his left shoulder was affected, and the pain made him break into a cold sweat on his forehead.
Dylan was holding a small-caliber salt bullet gun and hiding in the corner of the corridor. He saw a demon coming around behind Dean, its claws already raised, and he fired without thinking. The salt bullet hit the demon on the shoulder, causing the opponent to stagger, which gave Dean time to react.
Ten minutes later, the demons in the room were cleared away. People came out one after another, their bodies stained with ash and the remains of the demon's black smoke, and they were all gasping for air.
Dean shook off the stains on the dagger, looked at the townspeople around him who were performing their duties, and said with a little emotion in his tone, "This is how it feels to have teammates."
"What?" Sam didn't hear clearly and turned to ask him.
Dean smiled. This was the first time he truly smiled tonight, "It feels like I have backup."
Dylan ran over, staring at Impala with bright eyes, with envy on his face. "This car is awesome. Can I take your car back?"
Dean smiled and took out a can of beer from his pocket and threw it to him, "Hey, you deserve it. Don't tell your mother."
Dylan stretched out his hand to catch it. He was so happy that he lowered his head and was busy pulling the ring of the can.
Everyone else drove away first, and the three of them leaned against Impala to catch their breath. The night wind blew over, carrying the smell of weeds.
Dylan had just pulled the tab, but before the bubbles came out, a gray-black hand suddenly stretched out from the bottom of the car, grabbed his ankle, and dragged him to the bottom of the car!
"Dylan!" Dean's pupils shrank suddenly and he shouted as he rushed over to pull him away. But the demon was extremely powerful and dragged the boy under the car in the blink of an eye.
Sam walked around to the other side of the car, leaned over and grabbed the devil by the back of the collar, dragged it out from under the car, and stabbed the dagger into its heart.
The demon twitched a few times and turned into a ball of black smoke that dispersed in the wind.
When Dean took Dylan out from under the car, a deep gash was cut in the boy's throat. Blood spurted out and soaked the front of his sweatshirt. His eyes were still open, with a smile that didn't go away, but he was no longer breathing.
The wind was still blowing, and the beer cans rolled on the ground, sprinkling foam all over the floor.
Dean hugged Dylan's gradually cold body, clenched his fists loudly, and said "damn it" through his teeth. He felt overwhelmingly guilty - it was all his fault that he had to give him some beer, wasted that half minute, and let the child stay for a while, otherwise he would have gotten in the car and left long ago.
It's like this again. People who follow him never end well.
Sam stood aside, turned his face away, sighed heavily, and felt panicked in his heart. A young life is gone at the last word.
Under Apocalypse, human life is as cheap as a piece of paper.
The next morning, Dylan's funeral was held in the church.
A small coffin was placed in front of the altar, and the sun shone in through the stained glass window. The colorful light fell on the coffin, but it could not warm the sadness in the room.
Jane and Rob stood at the front. Jane's eyes were swollen like walnuts, and she was leaning on Rob's arms, trembling all over.
Dean and Sam walked over. Dean's voice was low and hoarse. "We are sorry. Our condolences..."
Before she finished speaking, Jane suddenly raised her head. Her eyes were filled with tears and hatred, and she stared at Dean with a trembling voice. "It's all your fault. If you hadn't come..."
Rob pulled her arm and whispered a word of advice, but she shook her off hard.
Dean didn't refute, he lowered his eyes and looked at the photo of Dylan on the coffin, his eyes full of heartache. He felt that Jane was right to scold him, it was his fault.
Pastor Gideon walked up to the altar, his voice hoarse. He said he had nothing to comfort him, and he didn't know why this happened. He couldn't give an answer.
As soon as she finished speaking, Leah in the front row suddenly twitched and fell straight to the ground. Her breathing was rapid, her body was tense, as if she was suffering from great pain, and she was muttering something intermittently.
The pastor quickly ran over and hugged her, calling her name anxiously.
It took a long time for Leah to recover. Her eyes were straight. She was helped by her father to stand up and murmured, "Dylan will be back."
She turned her head and looked at Jane and Rob, her eyes were gentle, but her tone had the power to confuse people. "When the Day of Judgment comes, as long as we abide by the commandments, all our deceased relatives will be resurrected. The angel has chosen us, and as long as we abide by the commandments, we will get Heaven in the human world, and we will always be with the one we love."
The crowd was in commotion, some were crying softly, and some had lights in their eyes.
Sam frowned and touched Dean's arm, complaining in a low voice. "No alcohol, no gambling, no premarital sex? Dean, 90% of the fun in your life has been banned."
Dean's eyes did not leave Leah, and he said "hmm" absently. "Just do as the Romans do. It's not our turn to talk." After saying that, he turned around and walked back to the church, "I'll see you later."
He was very confused. Resurrection of relatives... If it were true, could mom and dad come back? But the next second he laughed to himself - how could such a good thing happen? Angels can only draw cakes.
Dean found Leah in the side hall.
The light in the side hall is dim, and there is a cup of warm water on the table. You can see the sycamore tree in the yard outside the window. When the wind blows, the leaves rustle. Leah is rubbing his temples, and the headache after the hallucination has not gone away.
"Did I bother you?" Dean leaned against the door frame and spoke softer.
Leah raised his head, smiled, and shook his head. "It's okay, I'm much better now."
Dean pulled up a chair and sat down, looking at her. "The vision of an angel is very draining, isn't it?"
"There's nothing to complain about." Leah said softly, "I know it's much harder for you than me, Dean."
Dean was silent for a few seconds and sighed.
He stared into Leah's eyes and said in a deep tone, "I want to hear the truth. What did the angel say? Don't say those nice words that whitewash peace, especially about that paradise."
Leah nodded, and his tone was as calm as stating a fact. "There will be a very tragic war, and many people will die. But in the end we will win. After winning, the world will be handed over to the chosen ones, and there will be peace forever, no monsters, no disease, no death. Only be with the people you love."
Dean smiled self-deprecatingly, with an inexorable loneliness in his tone. "Of course, the premise is that you can get the ticket. It must feel good to be selected."
"Dean, you are also chosen." Leah said softly.
Dean sneered, shook his head and stood up. "It's better to say he was cursed than selected."
He turned around and was about to leave, when Leah's voice sounded softly behind him, like a knife tempered with ice, accurately piercing into the deepest part of his mind. "It must be very difficult. As Heaven's skin, there is no hope at all in my heart."
Dean's footsteps suddenly stopped, and his back instantly stiffened.
He clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white. Without turning back or speaking, he opened the door and walked out. The door was closed behind him, cutting off the light in the room and suppressing the chill that surged in his heart.
On the other side, Sam went to Paul's bar again. The bar was empty during the day, with only Paul cleaning glasses. The sun cast a light and shadow on the bar, and dust floated slowly in the beam of light.
"Here?" Paul looked up and saw him, took out two bottles of beer from the freezer and placed them on the bar, "Leah's angel friend has banned all these fun things, so you can help me clear out the inventory."
Sam took the wine, raised his head and took a big sip. The cold beer couldn't suppress the irritability in his heart.
Paul curled his lips and complained while wiping the cup, "I love this town, but those hypocritical believers are really disgusting. A few months ago they were drunk and working as babysitters, but now they are all God soldiers. Why are you pretending?"
Sam smiled, "I see that you are not a person who likes to pray."
"Prayers are useless." Paul sneered, "The devil is real, and God may exist, but I won't be a hypocrite. Even if I cheat Hell, I will do it openly." He glanced at Sam, "You don't look like a pious person, do you?"
Sam was silent for a few seconds, stroking the cold wine bottle with his fingers, and said in a very soft voice, "I believe it. I really believe it. But I am very sure that God no longer cares."
He understood it after coming back from Heaven.
God doesn't care about the life or death of humans at all, and allows Apocalypse to happen, and allows angels to use humans as pawns.
But even so, you can't use other people's lives as bargaining chips, and you can't throw away your bottom line as a human being just for the sake of vain hope.
Paul sneered and said nothing. The two clinked glasses quietly and drank separately. The bar was very quiet, and the atmosphere was as heavy as lead.
When Sam returned to the motel, it was already dark. The lights were not turned on in the room, with only a little light coming from the street lamp outside the window. Dean was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor in a daze, his whole body stuck in the shadows, like a lifeless sculpture.
"Where have you been?" Dean asked without looking up.
"I went drinking." Sam closed the door and walked to sit opposite him.
Dean twitched the corner of his mouth and smiled lightly, "Okay Sam, this is a violation of the precepts."
"I originally wanted to drink more, but the curfew was imposed." Sam stared at him, his voice a little deep, "Are all the signal towers closed? The cable TV and Internet are all disconnected, and we are completely isolated from the outside world."
Dean just said "hmm" and had no reaction.
The fire in Sam's heart suddenly sprang up, and his voice was raised a little, anxious and angry. "Don't you understand yet? They have turned this place into a fundamentalist stronghold! What are the commandments and what are the paradises? They are just brainwashing! If this continues, people will go crazy!"
Dean raised his head, his eyes filled with tired silence.
He looked at Sam, and his tone was terrifyingly flat. "I understand. I just don't care anymore."
Sam was stunned, as if a basin of cold water had been poured down on him. He asked in disbelief, "You don't care? You said you don't care?"
"So what can we do?" Dean's voice was very soft, but every word was touching. "In the world of angels, we have to follow the rules of angels. From the time when only angels have lifeboats on Titanic, it was doomed."
Sam's voice was a little shaky, pleading, and a little panicked. "Then who will save these people? Are you going to give up? Stop struggling? Don't say that. You can't do this. You can't do this to me." His Adam's apple twitched, and his eyes were a little red, "I have been able to survive until now only because of my thoughts."
What he fears most is never Apocalypse, the devil, or Lucifer. What he fears most is that Dean collapses first.
What will he do if Dean falls?
Dean closed his eyes, his heart hurt, as if he was being held by hands.
But he really couldn't muster the energy, and he really didn't know what the point of struggling was.