“Take a look at this.” Sam whirls his laptop around and slides it across to Dean. The screen is open on a news article on three people who have been murdered with no particular cause besides the three different killers’ claims it was ‘an act of god’.

Usually, the brothers would chalk it up to religious nutjobs killing in the name of god, but three? A week apart? All claiming to have seen an angel and felt the warmth and divine joy of salvation?

There was no coincidence there.

Sam had interrogated a young woman in the asylum—once a hooker but had a change of heart after coming face-to-face with an angel. Sam, actually, believed her. Dean had scoffed, guffawed even. He believed in things he could see with his own two eyes, and all he could see was evil. Demons existed, but their counterparts? He wasn’t so sure.

The brothers walk into a local bar to ask some questions about these people. Coincidentally, except not too coincidentally, all the killers had come to this bar. It was a small town, it was about the only good bar in town.

Taking a seat at the bar, Dean flags down the bartender. “Hey there, two whiskeys on the rocks and a minute of your time.” Dean says, flashing a smile. “Please.” Sam adds for him. Maybe you’d have some clearer answers at motives, a few drinks in the system and these people might talk about a series of signs, or ‘gods will’.