Dean, Sam and you had just trapped a demon in a Devil’s trap, and we’re currently trying to get information about Crowley from it.

Dean sat with his arms folded, looking down at the demon. Dean had his eyebrows furrowed, his mouth slightly open as he began to speak.

“So.. you’re telling me that you have no clue where your king is..?” Dean asked, his voice low and gravely, pushing himself off the table, his flannel moving over his muscular arms, and his shirt tight to his chest.