“Castiel said it’s the Holy Grail,” Sam said.

Bobby slowly shook his head. “Never thought I’d see this. Never.” He glanced at Dean. “Did you know this was the job, when you left?”

“No,” Dean said. “I thought it was just a murder — somebody important to the angels, but Castiel didn’t say why.”

“And now we’ve got a whole quest to go on,” Sam said. “Only Dean can hardly move and I –” He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked away.

“We could die doing this,” Dean said bluntly. “Though when aren’t our lives threatened?”

“This is more than just a job, boys,” Bobby said, still cradling the Grail in his hands. “This is heavy-duty stuff. This is legend.”

“If we fail,” Dean said, nodding, “it could mean the end of the world.”

Sam looked up, and then away again. He said gruffly, “But first Dean has to heal a little. He can barely walk. You saw, Bobby. The guy we stole the Grail from, he’s into black magic and he got some of Dean’s blood.”

Bobby looked shocked. “He’s using blood magic on you, Dean?”

“Yeah. He’s got a few drops of my blood on a handkerchief and he showed me how he can use it to torture me. He said he’d reopen the stab wound and he could find us anywhere. But Castiel said your place was protected from him, so . . .”

“Of course you can stay,” Bobby said, “but we’ll have to find you some protections when you’re ready to leave, too. Blood magic is bad news.”

“Tell me about it,” Dean muttered.

Sam took the dish out of the briefcase and gave it to Bobby. “That’s the next clue of where we need to go. We’re supposed to find the four treasures that were stolen, but the hardest part, I think, is going to be figuring where the hell we’re going.”

Reluctantly Bobby put the cup down on the couch, and held the dish so he could inspect the embossing. “It’s the Green Knight,” he said, “but that could mean a lot of stuff.”

“We might have to investigate this one,” Dead said to Sam. “I don’t think we can count of helpful waitresses showing up whenever we need them.”

“Helpful waitresses?” asked Bobby, so Dean told him about Maya Fisher. When he was done Sam looked peeved again that he hadn’t gone into so much detail earlier, but just got up to get a book from Bobby’s shelves and start leafing through it.

“Here,” he said and gave it to Dean. It was a long poem, illustrated with woodcuts — the story of the Green Knight translated from Middle English. In the first illustration the Green Knight held a sword over a knight’s neck, preparing to cut off his head.

Dean sighed. “Great. Homework.”

“Just read, jerk,” Sam said. “I’ll read too and see if we can figure out anything.” He went back outside to get their bags.

Dean read a few lines and then looked at Bobby, who was still studying the dish. “Bobby?” he said quietly.

“Still here.”

Dean gnawed his lip a moment. “Thanks for taking us in.”

Bobby glanced up and said gruffly, “We’re family, boy. And you look like hell. I think sleep is more important than research right now.”

“I’m fine,” Dean said but despite this Bobby took the book from his hands and helped him to his feet.

“You’re lying down in my bed until you get some color back. No arguing. Sam and I will work this out.”

“Yes, sir,” Dean said, surprisingly fine with letting someone else look after him, and let Bobby help him up the stairs to the master bedroom. It was just as cluttered and book-filled as the rest of the house, but the sheets were clean and the pillows smelled like fabric softener. He sank into them gratefully.

“I’ll bring you some food in a couple hours,” Bobby said. “Get some sleep.”

“Thanks, Bobby,” Dean said, closed his eyes and did just that.

***

In California, they say Luke Voorhees started bleeding from his palms in the middle of his algebra class.

In Arizona, they say it snowed in the desert. In Sedona, they say people couldn’t stop watching the sky.

In Rhode Island, they say three-year-old Molly Lubin dreamed of angels and woke from her afternoon nap, sobbing about the end of the world.