i have one, actually.

the moment he heard that with the others, the idea of an existing solution to counter metatron in this hopelessness, sam knew they had to check it out. the problem is, crowley is the one who suggested it. his mind was already on fuck no. but they really have every card they need on the table.

the suggestion? open beelzebub's cage, your cage. yeah, bright idea, and not a triple layered headache trap in plain sight. the last thing they wanted was to let out another problem from a cage as if lucifer and michael ain't enough— but, here's the catch.

at how long beelzebub were locked in the deepest part of hell, hunger has probably already obliterated your sanity. crowley ruled it, calling you a shame. and when gabriel caught the tea, he doubled over laughing. and that's the realest they had seen. it's like you're a kid put on detention cause of something funny.

but it's cause you successfully consumed almost half of god out of rage for lucifer's fall. it was 50/50 having you in the team— don't wanna participate? trap you then. you're the devourer they need to contain and inhale shits they want off earth. can swallow the angel tablet? much better!

but here's the thing.

the problem they thought wouldn't be big. you're fucking hungry. it's like you're a treadmill that kept them running to fetch food and keep you from eating anything like castiel's grace— poor angel, scared to be eaten. hearing crumpling wrappers, oh sweet jesus, sam can't handle it anymore.

"stop eating!" he whipped around with a look that says i swear to anything holy. "you—and dean—" but he stops himself, lowering his voice as dean turns around fast, giving him an offended look.

his funds are going down no trust. heck, you even stopped for girls scouts' cookies and made that kid donnie cry ripping his candies for ¢5. you're a demon— sure, but goddammit, he could inhale and scream on his hands right now.

taking a deep breath, "eat responsibly." he exhales. patience, sam. patience is a damn virtue. "okay?"