Whatever the meal was called, two words or three, Evan went about ordering it - adding a slice of pie and a glass of milk. Sam had a straight melt with water, and Dean had eggs and bacon with toast and an orange juice. Of course, as soon as he ordered, Evan removed himself from the seat to go use the restroom. On the way back, he paused and stopped to look at the old-timey Jukebox they had set up in here, as well as browse the Patrons seated at various places around the establishment. His senses caught the angel immediately, and the smallish part of him that still had a cringe-reaction to the presence of them did a bit of a shimmy back toward the jukebox. Scared? Naw. Intrigued? Possibly. Only, Evan wasn't actually good enough as a demon to pinpoint which one was the angel. It could have been literally anyone - from the old lady sitting at the window sipping coffee, to the young man reading the paper by the door, to the 'sk8ter boi' at the counter, to one of the servers. He had no idea.
Part of that explained why he turned back to the table without arguing when Dean called him. The other part was simply the fact that he was damned hungry. Food arrived in short order. It usually did, in places like this, and he scarfed down his meal without a second thought for manners or polite conversation. It almost took him off-guard when he realized he'd been spacing out on food, and Sam had actually been speaking to him.
"... Evan? I asked if you wanted to chill here for a couple of hours while Dean and I look into these witch sightings." He gestured toward the paper on the table that had gotten there sometime when Evan was stuffing his face. "There's a Hunter down the road about twenty miles or so that would k-... be glad to have you, while we take care of this. It's going to be pretty boring. A lot of legwork."
Using his tongue and a napkin in equal portions to clean his lips, Evan looked up, and quirked a brow at both brothers. "What, you're trusting me alone, with another Hunter? This is a change. Wait, am I dying or something? Is that why?"
Sam and Dean exchanged looks. "Well, no." Sam said. "At least, we don't think so. But your... stuff, your energy, what makes you up? It's leaking. We noticed it back when you were in the safe-room."
"Cas noticed it." Dean corrected, holding up a finger to the server. When she arrived, he ordered a melt. "When you were all rage-mode after we cornered you. Something about your... stuff. Going haywire."
Evan deadpanned at the both of them. "So you didn't just take me on this trip to stop me from following, you have an ulterior motive. Why am I not the least bit fucking surprised."
The younger Winchester held up a hand. "Now wait a moment, before you start getting defensive. This was Cas' idea. The Hunter we're talking about is a sort of... doctor... for your kind."
"My kind?" Evan narrowed black-on-black eyes at Sam. "You mean, demons? Monsters? Things that go bump in the motherfucking night? Because that's what you actually mean. You don't say it, but you mean it. Look, I have no damn choice." He 'set' down his fork as gingerly as a five-ton elephant on a couch, making a large clatter, then a hollow 'crack' as the plate split in two. Anger had never really been Evan's friend. Indignant, righteous, well-deserved, or other.
Dean's voice grew very quiet. "Don't give me that shit. You're a demon, and that's that. We shouldn't have taken you in, we shouldn't have helped you, and I'm going to be damned if you sit here and throw that in our faces. Cas has been nothing but helpful. Ditch the attitude, got it 'Fido'?"
Evan's voice was dark when he answered. "Don't. Ever. Call me that." he snarled, eyes glowing for a split-second. "I have no choice. I'll go along with you, but if you call me that fucking nickname again, I will rip that goddamn car apart, and torch this whole joint. You hear me?"
Sam sighed, and put one hand toward his brother, and other toward Evan. "Alright, that's enough you two. Look, Cas wanted to see if this doctor-person could find out what was wrong with you so we could fix it. There is no ulterior motive here other than making sure you don't die. And yes, by 'you' I obviously mean both of you. Now cool it. Dean, you promised you wouldn't go ape over this."
The elder Winchester stabbed his fork Evan-ward. "I wouldn't have to if the whiny emo brat didn't decide to open up his mouth every five damn minutes." At which point, he went back to angrily eating the rest of his eggs.
"This is going to be a long-ass trip." Evan grumbled under his breath, stabbing the remainder of his hash-browns. "Sam, can I get a melt?"
The dismissive gesture of the younger Winchester was good enough for him, and he ordered one to be delivered with his pie.