Dean's heart skips a beat, but it's not his body that's freaking out over a single phone call. "Are you sure?"

The greasy boy shrugs. "Who the hell are you? Where's Sam? Oh. Put him on. I quote directly."

And the heart that isn't Dean's speeds further, and he grabs the phone. "Hello?"

I would love for this moment to be true, along with all the other, "Dark Side of the Moon"-erasing lovely bits you've written about. This whole story is just such an emotionally powerful, sublime way to solve the dilemna of Sam's missing soul. I love your brain! Thank you.