Dean burst into the motel room and walked straight to his bed.
"Pack your crap, we're hitting the road," he ordered, grabbing his clothes and stuffing them into his duffel.
Sam just looked up from his laptop nonchalantly.
"Why?"
"Because I said so. And I'm the oldest," Dean insisted.
"Dean..."
"Sammy move it or else. We're going to LA."
Sam hesitated, then smirked.
"You're going after Faith," he concluded.
"She just called, she's in trouble."
"So why doesn't she get that Angel guy to help her out?"
"Because he's AWOL. Why are you arguing with me?!" Dean demanded, turning on him.
Sam raised his hands in surrender.
"I'm not, I just wanted the facts. Did she tell you where she is?"
"Yes. Hopefully she'll still be there by the time we get there," Dean was good at sounding worried all of a sudden.
He turned to put his bag in the car, and a satisfied smirk crossed his face.
***
"Did she say what was happening?" Sam asked, rubbing his eyes as he tried to stay awake.
"Not really, just that she needed or help," Dean lied, "my guess is that demon guy finally found them."
"Then we'll need to go in prepared," Sam sighed, "it's times like these I wish we had the colt."
"Yeah tell me about it. But unless you can cough up a few million before Bela sells the damn thing, which she's probably already done..."
"Yeah I know, I know," Sam sighed, "but still. We're gonna need to set up some devil's traps. Do you think Faith will be ok with it? I mean, she doesn't seem to know uch about a hunter's way of doing things."
"She'll be fine."
"If she survives you mean," Sam scratched his head awkwardly.