Summary: Dean, hunting alone after the fiasco involving War, is contacted by Bobby for a case involving the two younger sisters of Pamela Barnes. Still feeling guilty over Pamela's death he doesn't hesitate to accept. Craving a little bit of company, he asks Castiel to go with him to investigate the disappearance of Rosaline, the youngest sister. After getting all the details from Tierney, the middle sister, the three begin the search which leads them to some very old (and very real) Irish mythology.
The timeline for this starts between 5.02 and 5.03. Suffice it to say after that it's an AU as it doesn't really stick closely to the story arc of the rest of season 5. I like to think of this story being very similar in structure as the usual "Monster of the Week" episodes Supernatural is known for. This is a Dean and Castiel friendship story full of mystery, disturbing imagery, drinking and swearing and adult situations.
Author's Note: This is not my first time dabbling in fanfiction, however this is my first time in this fandom. I'm posting this first chapter just to test the waters. I know stories featuring OC's are not always well liked. I have a few more chapters completed but I'm not anywhere near finished with the entire thing. For those who read, I hope you enjoy. Reviews are appreciated but not begged for. My promptness in updating is not dependent on the quantity of reviews I receive, if any. As a side note, the "Honey Fest" I describe is real festival held in September in the real small town of Clarkson, KY. I don't live near Clarkson but my grandmother does and I attend this particular event almost every year. You won't find better honey anywhere else, I swear.
Dean sighed heavily and turned to lay on his stomach in an effort to get comfortable. This motel bed was particularly shitty and he wanted nothing more than to succumb to sleep. The pink glow from a rising sun was visible through the yellowed, tar stained curtains. He already knew sleep was out of his grasp, but still he couldn't bring himself to get up. Hell, he couldn't even bring himself to shower the vampire blood off of his aching body before falling into that pitiful excuse for a bed. No, he resigned himself to just laying there, staring at the digital clock as the minutes ticked past. It was too warm in the room. The air conditioner was broken but it had been too late when he had stumbled in at half past four to do anything about it. He had cursed under his breath, knowing he would be sticky and miserable, knowing that cool air and the loudness of the machine would be the only thing to help him sleep. The silence was almost worse than the heat and he longed for any sound. He refused to acknowledge that the one sound in particular he was missing was the snores of his idiot little brother.
His phone vibrated on the nightstand next to the clock he was still staring at. He opened it, knowing before he even checked the inbox what the message would say. He was right, of course. It was a single word, the same message Sam had sent him every morning.
"Awake."
"Same," he typed in response. The same answer he'd given every time.
It had been six days since they had parted ways. He hadn't physically spoken to his brother since that night but they communicated through two texts every day, their way of letting each other know they were okay. That they were still alive. Sam would write "awake" every morning and "bed" every night. Dean's answer was always "same". Sam never gave any details, never telling him where he was. Dean preferred it this way. It kept the temptation of going to him at bay.
His phone vibrated again and a part of him wanted it to be Sam, but he knew it wasn't. It was Bobby. He answered the call with his face still smashed into the moldy smelling pillow.
"Yeah?"
"Well, you're up awful early," Bobby said. "Or have you not been to bed yet?"
"This motel room is garbage," he said. "What's up?"
"Do you have any jobs on your plate?"
"Just finished one a few hours ago. Haven't found any credible leads for anything new."
"Well, I have one, if you're interested."
Dean rolled back over and stared at the ceiling, noticing cracks in the stucco. "What's the story?"
"Remember Pamela?"
Dean swallowed hard. Of course he remembered her. How could he forget? He still felt responsible for her death. That old familiar guilt crept up his throat and he tried to ignore it. Bobby seemed to take his silence as a smartass non-response and kept talking.
"Pam had two sisters, Tierney and Ros. A little younger than her. Tierney called me late last night and said Ros has gone missin'."
"Why call you? Does she think it's our kind of job?" Dean asked.
"She has her suspicions. Both of those girls are psychics like Pam was, to a certain degree. Tierney doesn't think Ros is hurt or in immediate danger. Says she 'would've sensed it'. But a few of the oddities seem to point to something else. She asked me for help," Bobby explained. "Seeing as how I'm about as useful as a one legged man in an ass kicking contest, I'm passing the ball to you. I figured you might welcome the distraction."
"You ain't lying there," Dean admitted, wiping his face with a blood splattered hand. He was starting to regret skipping that shower. "Where is she?"
"Right now she's in a little town called Clarkson in Kentucky. Her and Ros had met up there for the town's annual 'Honey Fest' or 'Bee Fest' or something like that. Said they did it every year."
Dean sighed and thought about it. He was going to go, no doubt about that. If nothing else, he felt he owed that much to Pam. He was just trying to decide if he should pack it up now or try and force in a few hours sleep. "Tell her I'll do it. Give her my number. I'll head out in a few hours."
Bobby let out a chuckle. "I already did. Said she'll call you at around four to meet up. You still in Marion? In Illinois?"
"Yeah."
"That's only about a three, maybe three and half hour drive. That gives you plenty of time. Get that beauty rest. Lord knows you need it." And with that Bobby hung up.
Dean closed his phone but hesitated before he sat in down. He opened it and hit one of the speed dial numbers.
"Dean?" the rough voice asked.
"Cas? You busy?"
"I'm still trying to find God, if that's what you mean," the angel answered flatly.
"Aren't we all," Dean muttered as he rolled his eyes. "Why don't you take a break? I've got a proposition for you."
"Where are you?"
Dean told him the address. No sooner than he finished saying the motel room number, the angel appeared next to his bed. The phone still to his ear. Dean sat up in the bed and closed his phone, sighing as Castiel did the same.
"Do you need my assistance?" Castiel asked.
"Need it? Not really. But I thought you'd might like to take a break from your 'holy mission' and work a job with me."
"Why would you want me to do that?"
Dean rubbed his hand through his dirty hair. "Like I said, I thought you might like a break from searching for Daddy. I know I needed to take a breather when I was looking for mine every now and then."
Castiel's lips were pursed and he regarded Dean with that same look he seemed to give him too often. "You are lonely," he said. It wasn't a question.
Dean considered lying to the man in front of him but he knew it would be pointless. He didn't have the energy to put on an act. "Maybe just a tad," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "Come on, it'll be good for you. Give you a chance to get away from all that heavenly baggage for a few days."
"But I don't want to get away from the 'baggage'. I need to find my father."
Dean bit the bottom of his tongue. "Just a few days, Cas. You haven't even heard what the job is."
"But Dean..."
"It's Pamela's sisters."
That seemed to shut Castiel up. He narrowed his eyes at Dean. "Pamela Barnes, the psychic?"
"Yep. That's the one. The one's who eyes you fried out of her head."
"I warned her not to..."
"I know, I know," Dean cut him off. "Anyway, her sister called Bobby because their youngest sister has gone missing and she believes it may be due to something that goes bump in the night."
Castiel just listened to him with a sour look on his face. As if he had any other.
"It's about a 3 hour drive from here and I'm leaving a few hours," he tore his eyes away from the angel and stared off to the side. He wasn't gonna beg.
"Alright. I'll help you find Pamela's sister," he said finally. "Are we leaving now?"
"Not right this minute," Dean said, laying back down. "I'm exhausted. I've got to grab at least 4 hours of sleep before I can go anywhere."
"I shall wait here then," Castiel said. He just continued to stand there next to the bed.
"Uh, Cas," Dean said. "I can't sleep as it is. I'm really not going to be able to fall asleep with you leering over me."
"You are having trouble sleeping?" Castiel asked, slight concern in his voice.
"A little," Dean admitted. He felt weird admitting this to Castiel. "I mean...it's hot in this room. And too quiet..."
And before he could finish his thought, Castiel leaned forward and pressed two fingers to Dean's forehead and he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Dean tried to be pissed at Castiel for making him sleep as long as he did but deep down he knew he needed it. He woke up feeling better than he had since Sam left and the lack of dreams gave him a sense of peace he hadn't felt in a long time. They were on the road now, the angel in the front seat, hands folded in his lap, staring off to the side as Dean drove just above the speed limit, blaring Metallica. The loud music didn't seem to bother Castiel, not that Dean would have done anything even if it had. After all, driver picks the music. They had just passed the state line into Kentucky when Casitel spoke.
"What are the details of this hunt?" he asked.
Dean explained what Bobby had told him on the phone.
"If she hasn't sensed her sister is in danger, I don't understand the urgency," Cas replied.
"Her sister's missing. I'd have done the same thing," Dean said.
Dean followed the signs into Clarkson and immediately noticed the tiny town's decorations. Houses and businesses had posted giant posters of bees and bee related things everywhere. He was definitely in the right place. Making his way through traffic, he saw the center of the festival ahead in the distance and resigned to find a place to park. He swelled with pride at the nods and whistles some of the locals gave him, directed toward the Impala, as he and Cas made their way toward the crowd.
A parade was in progress, the tiny two lane road taken over completely by little homemade floats, classic cars and people on gussied up horses. Clowns were tossing candy to the many children lined up on the side of the road. Dean stood back from the crowd and surveyed the area. Nothing seemed to stick out that would warrant concern. It was just a small town getting together, throwing a party, an excuse to get out and enjoy themselves. He was taken out of his thoughts when he felt something hit his feet. He looked down to see a handful of sweets laying there. Oh yeah, Dean liked this place already.
"What are we doing, Dean?" Castiel asked.
"Taking in the scenery. Relax. I have to wait for Tierney to call me and tell us where to meet her," Dean replied, stuffing 3 tootsie rolls into his mouth.
The parade came to a close so they wondered through the crowds. He noticed vendors had set up booths in an empty parking lot, selling their handmade candles, folksy country décor and the like. A few steps away were several food trailers. Dean's mouth watered at the familiar smell of grease. Hamburgers, pork chops, onion rings...was this heaven? He felt like it could be.
They just walked around aimlessly, finding an empty table under a shady tree, waiting for the phone call. It came not long after and they found themselves crossing the street to the rinky dink carnival that was set up. Tierney had been quick with instructions, sounding quite distracted, telling him to look for the girl with long brown braids at the 'quarter game'. He wasn't entirely sure what a 'quarter game' was but he soon figured it out when he saw a big tent covering several odd looking slot machines. He walked around the circle of machines and saw her, face scrunched up in what looked like frustration as she feed a quarter into the top slot, her other hand holding a button. She licked her lips and released the button and Dean watched as the quarter fell to the steel landing, before being pushed to another landing below full of quarters and a few five dollar bills, several hanging dangerously close to the edge. He watched as her quarter pushed into the others and raised an eyebrow as he saw the addition caused about 5 or 6 quarters to fall and come out of the slot at the bottom.
He was about to announce himself when she bent over in front of him to retrieve her prize and Dean's mouth clamped shut. She was wearing a dark blue tank top and some very short cut off jean shorts and Dean got the full view of her strong calves, wide hips and round rear. Standing back up, she noticed Castiel standing off to the side. She turned around to see Dean behind her and raised an eyebrow. To his surprise she said nothing, instead turning her attention back the game in front of her, getting another handful of quarters from the attendant. He just watched her as she continued to feed the machine coins, cussing loudly every time she got nothing in return.
"Cheatin' ass game," she muttered, out of quarters, as she turned to face him again. "You must be Dean" she said. Her long dark brown hair was split into two braids and he could clearly see hints of Pamela in her face. Her mouth was set in a coy smile as her green eyes darted between himself and he angel next to him.
"The one and only," he finally said, sticking his hand out. She gripped it tight and shook it.
"Tierney," she said. Her eyes darted back to Castiel. "I thought Pamela said you're brother was a giant?"
Castiel just started at Tierney, expressionless.
"This isn't my brother," Dean said. "This is Castiel."
Her eyebrows shot up to her hairline. "Castiel? The angel?"
"That's the one," Dean said.
She looked at him and then at the angel. "Oh man, I'm sorry," she said, frowning.
"What are you sorry f-" Castiel started to ask but was cut off by a hard slap to his cheek.
Dean was too shocked to react, only able to watch as Tierney recoiled, shaking her hand hard. "FUCK!" she yelled in pain. She looked at Dean again. "What the hell, is he made of stone?"
"Yeah, I wouldn't have done that," Dean said, trying to suppress a laugh. Castiel, of course, hadn't moved at all.
The angel went to speak but she cut him off with a wave of her uninjured hand. "That was for Pam, by the way. Sisterly obligation." She reached down and grabbed her tote bag. "Well, now that is out of the way, follow me boys. I'll fill you in."
Tierney stopped at one of the food vendors and bought herself a corndog and forced Dean to let her buy him a pork chop sandwich, offering Cas something as well but he declined. They found a secluded spot away from the main crowd under a shady oak tree. Sitting down on one of the big roots, Dean followed suit but Cas just stood there. She gave him an odd look but Dean brushed it off.
"You'll get used to it," he said. "So what's the deal?"
"Well, Ros and I come here for the Honey Fest every year. We set up a both and sell jewelry and whatnot that we make. We usually come a few days before as a little 'end of summer' vacation. Get some last minute campin' and fishin' and swimmin' in. I met her over at the campsite on Tuesday morning. Everything was fine at first but Wednesday night I felt an odd presence. It didn't strike me as dangerous or angry. Just odd. And very old. I woke up Thursday morning and Ros's tent was empty and her car was gone. I thought maybe she had just ran to the store or something early but once the sun set and she didn't answer her phone I started to worry. Last night I still hadn't heard anything so I broke down and called Bobby for help."
"And you two didn't have or fight or anything before? Something happen that might piss her off and make her leave like that?" Dean asked, taking a bite of his sandwich.
"Nope. The last thing we did was stuff ourselves full of hot dogs over the fire, had a few beers and some laughs," she said. "Ooh, speaking of beer, you want one?"
Of course he wanted one, but he shook his head no. Business first. "You know, you don't seem that upset about this."
"That's because she's not hurt," Tierney said matter-of-factly.
"How do you know?" Dean asked.
"Pam wasn't the only freak in the family," she replied, her eyes flickering up to a stone-faced, silent Castiel. "I would've felt it. I've always felt it in the past. Not just with Ros, with Pam too. I felt it when she was 'touched by an angel' if you will. And when she..." her eyes dropped back down to the grass. "...when she died I felt it too. We both did."
Dean went to speak again but the angel cut him off, taking the words right out of his mouth. "If she is unharmed, why seek outside assistance?" Cas asked, now looking down at the two of them.
She cocked her head up at Castiel and frowned. "Well, first off. I don't speaking anything other than English and some latin. Same goes for Ros. The scraps of paper I found in her tent were neither." She reached into her tote and pulled out several torn pieces of dirty paper and handed a few to Dean and a few Castiel.
"This is very old Gaelic," Castiel said, barely giving it glance.
"If you look on the back you can see all these scribblings and sketches of birds. Crows or ravens or something. So, these littered inside her tent and the presence I felt the night she disappeared is just a bit above my head," she said, a hint of bitterness to her voice.
"Do you think she wrote these herself?" Dean asked, looking at the little notes, not understanding a single word.
"It doesn't look like her handwriting but I can't be a certain," she said.
"Cas, you got some insight on this? I don't speak Gaelic," Dean said, looking up at him. His face was set in a deep frown as he looked over the slips, concentrating hard.
"I don't. I should...but I don't know what they say," he said sounding a little more than defeated. Dean couldn't help but think it might have something to do with Castiel being cut off from Heaven, but he didn't say it.
"Well, only one thing we can do. Find a fax machine and send these to Bobby. He might be able to pull something up," Dean said, slapping his hands on his knees. He stood up, stretched and watched as Tierney grabbed her bag, about to do the same. But Castiel moved, to Dean's surprise, offering his hand to help her stand. She took it, smiling at the angel, like nothing was weird between the two of them, like she didn't just slap the shit out of him a few minutes ago. That was a good thing. Wasn't it?
"Honey, you are killing me with that coat," Tierney said to Castiel.
"How could a coat kill someone?" Castiel asked and Dean laughed.
"He takes everything literally. Hasn't quite caught on to normal human expressions," Dean explained. He turned to Cas. "I think she means that seeing you in that coat in such warm weather is making her feel uncomfortable for you." And if he wasn't so used to seeing him in it, he'd feel the same. It had to be at least 85 degrees out there.
"But I'm fine," Cas said.
"Well I'm not. You better take it off or folks 'round here will think you're a complete nutcase. And trust me, sugar, you don't want that. Grab a small town's attention to something weird and they'll chase it outta here with pitchforks and sawed-offs," Tierney said, making her way toward the gathering of vendors.
"But I'm fine," Castiel repeated.
Dean rolled his eyes. "Damn it, Cas. Just take it off. You heard the lady. No need to draw attention to ourselves."
Castiel looked between the two humans and let out a sigh. Tierney grinned as Castiel obliged, removing not only his trench coat but his suit jacket as well. "Is this acceptable?"
"Almost," Tierney said and she grabbed his sleeves, unbuttoning the cuff and rolling them up, exposing the pale skin to the sunlight. She rubbed her hand over his forearms and Dean felt a slight tinge of jealousy. "Jeez, when's the last time you were out in the sun?"
"I have been outside all day," Castiel said, confusion starting to show on his furrowed brow. If Tierney kept this up, they would be caught it a never ending loop. Dean had to squash it quick.
"Nevermind, Cas," Dean said with a wave of his hand, turning to Tierney. "You know this area pretty well, right? Where's the closest place that would have a fax machine?"
"The Walmart's got a business center in it. It's only a few miles down the road."
"I'm driving," Dean announced, turning to walk in the direction of the Impala.
"That's fine but I'll have to get my car at some point tonight," Tierney said. "I've gotta pack our booth up first. Shouldn't take me no time. You can go ahead and get your car and just meet me over here, I guess. I should be done by then."
Dean nodded and he and Cas made their way back toward the car. The crowds were starting to thin due to the later hour. Noticing a woman walking ahead of them with blonde braids similar to Tierney's, Dean cleared his throat.
"Well, she seems nice enough," Dean said, trying to break the silence. "No screaming, no shaking or crying. It's nice to have a seemingly level-headed chick to deal with for once. And she bought me food. Always a plus."
"She is far more distraught than she is letting on, Dean."
He cocked at eyebrow at the angel. "You think?"
"I know."
"Right, because you are Mr. Sensitive. So attune to everyone's feelings, is that it?" Dean asked, his voice annoyed and a little more hostile than he intended.
"I sensed it when I touched her hand to help her to stand. She is putting up a convincing front but she is very worried."
Dean couldn't think of anything to say, mainly because he knew Castiel was telling the truth. "We'll figure this thing out, though. She'll be alright in the end." They continued to walk in silence. "She's got a great ass on her, too. Did you see that thing?"
Castiel, of course, said nothing.