Pretty Fabulous for a Dead Girl

"You bet your ass there's no coffee in backwoods whereverthefuck we are."

He looks like he's getting a real motherfucker of a headache.

"You are. Jesus Christ, why the hell isn't--"

Dean's eyes clear suddenly, and his eyebrows go up.

"Lilly, why are you--"

And now, of course, is when that shape that's been lurking in the forest leaps forward, all teeth and claws and familiar eyes in a nightmare face.

"Oh shit."

Dean's staring at the thing, now.

"Sam? Sam, don't--"

And then the creature is on him, and he doesn't have breath to speak.