Who: Dean, Ruby What: Dean is patrolling, runs into a familiar face When: Sunday night Where: out and about Warnings: tbd
Dean stalked the streets of pseudo-Losa Angeles, armed with as many weapons against supernatural creepy-crawlies as he could conceal on his person. After spending forty years on the rack, and a season in purgatory, this so-called hell seemed like an upgrade, but it was no Pleasantville. Not that Pleasantville wouldn't have been another kind of hell for someone like Dean. At least here, he could feel useful, protecting the vanillas and even his fellow hunters from the things that went bump in the night.