If I can't get home to Heaven tonight, wrap me up in safe half-light
Status
Summary
No pie can be found, the werewolf wouldn't cooperate, and Castiel lit up the forest like a Christmas tree. The Impala's been put through the ringer, it's colder than a morgue in winter, and somehow the Angel of Thursday is...a bit smaller than usual. Unfortunately, they're out of blankets, basic first aid, and a sense of self-preservation. At least it's not a crossroads demon...