AN: Uhh so...I got this random thought and ran with it. I haven't written in ages. Suddenly I get this vague hint of an idea and start typing away like I never stopped writing at all. It's almost 7am. I think I started this before or around midnight...no idea. I haven't stopped except once to pee.
This has not been beta'd. Forgive any mistakes. I'll try to fix in the...um...whatever morning ends up being for me today. I'll finish this when I'm up again.
*~.~*
Dean Winchester groaned in unpleasant anticipation as he rolled out of bed. His arm was asleep, the telltale feeling of not feeling anything, which wasn't the issue. It was what came right after that that he dreaded. The million rusty little needles pressing in at all angles all at once was a freaky, somewhat paralyzing kind of pain that was absolutely unavoidable once your unconscious body had decided to roll over onto that specific part of the body and starve it of blood.
With all the injuries over his lifetime—and he'd had pretty much everything in the book—you'd think something as simple as a limb waking back up would be a walk in the park. And it was...except for that minute or two where the blood was filling up temporarily neglected veins. For that minute or two, it was the worst.
Once it was over, he would smirk at himself with the memory of the one time he'd done it on purpose as a kid, you know...because that one other kid was talking to this other kid about it feeling like someone else was giving you a hand job. Well, it's not very pleasant after the first ten seconds when you lose your hard-on while your arm reanimates itself.
"Dude, what's wrong with you?" Sam said sleepily as he watched his brother flail his arm this way and that, slapping it on his leg a few times for good measure. If he'd actually been awake, he'd have figured it out via context clues.
"Frickin' arm's asleep," Dean replied gruffly.
"So was I, till you started flapping your wing over there."
Dean threw his pillow at him as he got up to head to the bathroom. Sam grinned and turned over.
They were in a motel that costed way too much, but was closest to where they'd need to head out to today on a case Sam had found on some froo froo blog online. Dean had been reluctant to hear him out, but after Sam told him the name of the park, Cougar Mountain Regional, he cracked a joke about older women and decided to let Sam continue.
Turns out there were several people who had seen a "man with wings" while hiking the area. Three were recent reports, one having hit the local papers with a blurry photo of a distant figure that Dean had said, "Looks like a big bird. It could literally be anything." To which Sam replied, "If it could be anything, then it could be something we should look into." Then he went on to explain everything he had researched about sightings of winged humanoid figures, including Mothman...
"There's stories about it going back to the 40s, Dean. Sightings of these 7 foot men with 5 foot wingspans, that just kinda watch and then take off."
"To do what, Sam? What's this birdman's agenda? I mean, he hasn't hurt anything, right? No one's dead."
"Theories suggest it might be there to warn people of an impending disaster. Like this bridge in 1967 that collapsed and killed nearly 50 people. People said they saw it there before it happened; right on the bridge, and for a year beforehand people in the area were seeing it."
"So...Bigbird comes to Sesame Street to warn everyone something bad is coming, but even with a year's worth of interacting with the locals, never figures out how to just...like...tell them? Write it out with pictures? I mean, c'mon..."
"It's a theory," Sam said with a sigh. "Point is, it's been seen. Chicago has been plagued with sightings of it." "And not a single one of those people had a cell phone handy? Pics or it didn't happen, dude. And I don't mean the blurry crap from two miles away."
"Look, I'm not saying it's the same thing. But if it's anything like the lore says, we've gotta check it out. The other half of the theorists thought it was the creature itself that made the bridge collapse. People say they saw a flying human figure in the skies on 9/11. They say they could see his glowing red eyes in the smoke." "People in shock seeing scary crap in the sky sounds like mass hysteria." "It doesn't matter what it is, Dean. It could be nothing, but if there's something that could potentially hurt a lot of people...or...I mean...if it's an omen of something big and bad about to happen, shouldn't we be there to try and stop...whatever it is?"
"Alright alright," Dean caved. "We'll go. Not far from here anyway."
"I was doin' a little digging online last night while you were sleeping," Dean said when he came back from the bathroom. He threw his tube of toothpaste at Sam when he noticed him still in bed. "Wake up, bitch."
"I'm up, jerk. I'm just not...ya know...up."
"Uh huh. Anyway, one of those theories is that what these people saw was an owl."
"A 7 foot owl though?"
"I was looking up the biggest owl breeds. Wing span kinda fits, and people tend to recall exaggerated sizes when they're terrified. Ya know, like when that little spider crawled up your leg in Texas and you freaked." He smiled at the recollection.
"It was New Mexico, and it was a giant freaking tarantula."
"It was a regular sized tarantula."
"And I did not freak."
"You totally jumped like 4 feet back," he said with a snicker.
"It startled me!"
"Anyway, man, don't worry, 'cause they're not indigenous to Washington. So all we gotta worry about, apparently, is the bird problem."
"Yeah well...you should be careful where you park then, I guess."
Dean's face fell. "I hadn't thought about that."
"Let's go grab something to eat before we meet with the park ranger," Sam said as he finished getting dressed. He grabbed his jacket and threw Dean the keys, opening the motel room door.
"You think we should rent, like...a golf cart or something though?" Sam shook his head, suddenly resenting having mentioned the potential danger to the Impala's paint job.
*~.~*
"Ahhh," Dean sighed in satisfaction. "Breakfast is always best when it's free, eh, Sammy?" He rubbed his stomach as they made their way back to the car.
"Ya know, just because it's free, doesn't mean you should ten-stack the pancakes."
Dean paused for a moment. "Of course that's what it means. How the hell did I raise you and you not know that ten-stacking the pancakes is a mandatory part of continental breakfast?"
Sam ignored the question and shrugged as they entered the car. "Still probably not the best idea when we're about to hike all day."
"Hey, I had protein too," Dean said defensively.
"Half a pound of bacon isn't...ya know what, fine. You'll be fine. Breakfast of champions," he said resignedly as he pulled on his seat belt.
"Damn sure better than that egg-white veggie omelet monstrosity I was forced to witness you chow down on," Dean replied as he followed suit and then stuck the key in the ignition. "By the way, it almost ruined breakfast for me."
"Yeah okay," Sam said with a laugh. "We'll see who does better out there today."
"Veggie egg-white omelet is fuel for you and your nerd brain, Sammy. Super unleaded for you, man, but me? I need diesel. I know it must be hard to understand."
Sam grinned and shook his head as Dean started the car and pulled out.
*~.~*
The ranger had lead them to the base of the trail to Cougar Mountain. They had pulled into a small parking area, and the ranger got out with them and pointed in the direction of the distant hills.
"About a mile from the base of the mountain is where the lady took the photo," the ranger told them. "It was probably a bird," he said, and Dean shot a glare at Sam. "Likely a hawk or a vulture. Just the way the photo was taken, the shadows played it off to be bigger that it is. But I didn't push it much," he confessed. "When they started talking about Mothman and such, I figured it would be good for publicity, what with her having a website and all."
"Anyone else witness something like this here?" Sam asked, pointedly ignoring Dean's gaze.
"Not the same exact spot, but around this part of the park, yeah. Had a couple of people asking questions about somebody up on the mountain wearing wings or something. It's funny what people's imaginations come up with when they spot a creature they haven't seen before," he said with a grin.
"Thanks," Sam nodded. "We'll take it from here." The ranger tipped his hat and went back to his vehicle.
"So," Dean began, "We bringin' binoculars for all this bird-watching?" He smiled as Sam opened the trunk.
*~.~*
"It's cold," Dean whined about a half mile into their hike.
"It's winter, and it's not really even that cold."
"You might not be cold, you giant furnace, but to the rest of the human race it's frickin' cold. I can see my breath."
"We're almost there anyway," Sam said, ignoring the comment as he checked the map. "The clay pit should be straight ahead about...three quarters of a mile." That part of the park was closed to the public, but it was closest to where the witness was when she took the photo, and the ranger gave them the go ahead at their own risk. Their ultimate goal was to get up around the area the mystery creature was standing at in the picture.
It hadn't taken much longer to get to the pit. Sam had stopped and taken out his phone, pulling up the image and holding it up to the landscape in front of them.
"That's it," Sam pointed, and Dean moved in to look at the photo. Then to the mountain. Then back to the photo.
"There's no way that's a bird," he said. "What was Ranger Rick thinkin'?"
"See?"
"It's a smudge of black that happens to form the shape of a bird," Dean continued. "It's probably a bunch of birds all close together like that, and the shot looks like one big bird thing."
"It's black in the picture because the shadows. Doesn't mean it's a bird. Or...birds."
"Whatever it is, it ain't there now."
"It could be nearby, though," Sam replied. "This photo was taken in the evening. It might only come out that time of day."
"Sam...if you think I'm hangin' out on a mountain named Cougar-"
"There's no cougars."
"Then why is it named Cougar Mountain? There's cougars out here, dude, and cougars eat humans. And consequently birds, I'd imagine..."
"There's no cougars. Black bears and bobcats maybe. Birds..."
"Oh yeah because unlike cougars- bears and bobcats are known for their polite socialization with humans!"
"Dean-"
"And what's to say that smudge isn't a bear then?"
"They're hibernating. In caves."
"There's caves?"
"There's caves."
"What if mothman is in a cave too? I mean, he's gotta hide during the day, right? Who do you think would win in a fight; Mothman or a black bear?"
"Can we just focus?" Sam turned to face his brother. "I'd rather not be out here at nightfall. If we keep going, we can get up there, have a few hours to scope the place out, and get back to the car before the sun goes down."
"But I kinda wanna see the fight now."
Sam shoved the map into his back pocket without another word, and started up the mountain.
It was a little over an hour before they reached the approximate level where the creature had been spotted. They dropped their packs in a patch of open, flat land, and began pulling out their emf readers, binoculars, guns...just in case... and started scouring the area.
Sam was going over what he'd read the previous day; the lore and witness statements. The odd yet vague connection to events that happened in the same areas of the sightings. He wondered if it meant something was going to happen here in the park, or someplace close. And if it was a mothman, what purpose did its appearance play in it? If it wasn't a mothman—not just here, but for all sightings past and present—what else could it be? What other monster could this thing possibly be?
Close to forty minutes into their search, Dean pulled Sam out of his thoughts. "I haven't even seen any regular birds yet."
"I've seen like eight different species. You suck at looking."
"I do not suck at looking!"
"Then how did you miss all the birds?"
"I wasn't looking for the birds!"
"Then why did you just..." Sam let the sentence trail off, knowing there wasn't a point in asking. "Dude, maybe we should just head back for now," he said, deflated.
"What?"
"I haven't seen anything indicating there was anyone or anything around here. I mean, except for birds, which...yeah. There was no sign on the way up here that anyone had been walking through. No tracking at all. Maybe this really was a dead end."
"Or maybe we just need to wait for the evening like you said."
"That'd mean we'd be stuck out here after nightfall. Do you wanna hike back through this in the dark? There are bears and bobcats, remember..."
"The bears are hibernating." Dean shrugged. "Bobcats aren't that big, right?"
Sam held his hands up in surrender. "If you wanna camp out here, by all means..."
Dean took a look around, scratched his head, then turned back to his brother. "Okay so maybe I don't wanna camp up here. But that doesn't mean we should just call it quits. We can hike back down, grab some grub, then head back up. Wait no," he said shaking his head. "Not up. We head back to the bottom where the chick took the photo, and we keep our eyes out. Nothin' says it'll pop back up in the same exact spot anyway, right?"
"Right..."
"Great. Let's get the hell outta here and warm up in the car."
By the time they made it back to the Impala, Sam was shivering. Dean told him "I told ya so" as he turned up the heat. The sun had been hiding as long as it'd been up, and it looked like it might rain. Again. It rained the night before. Sam reminded him how close they were to Seattle.
Sam curled up against the dash where the vent was blasting. He was sweaty from the hike, which made him impossibly colder out there, and maybe his body was a little confused because he wasn't even sure whether he was too cold or too hot anymore; just that the heat felt nice.
The windows were completely fogged over now, and Dean turned the fan down a little. "Startin' to look like somethin's goin' on in here," he said lightheartedly. "You okay?" he asked as he patted Sam's back.
"Yep."
"Yep?" Dean made a weird face. "It wasn't that cold. See this is why it's important to eat meat and carbs, Sammy."
"Shaddap."
Dean grinned, then wiped the fog from his window with his coat sleeve. Sam rolled his forehead on the dash to watch him. The image from the photo, along with everything else he'd looked up the past couple of days was still mulling over in his mind. Not even Dad's journal had much to say about it. Nothing in there mentioned anything quite like this thing.
Then it hit him like a fresh hit of cold air and he sat up straight. "Dude," he said, not looking anywhere in particular, but eventually meeting Dean's eyes. "A man with wings. Freaking...duh!"
"What?"
"What if it's an angel?"
Dean thought for a moment. "You can't see their wings though, dude."
"Maybe not most of them," Sam retorted. "But maybe... I dunno. Maybe we should ask Cas?"
"He's babysitting Jack, remember?"
"Of course I remember. I'm just gonna call him." He pulled out his phone and scrolled to Cas's number and hit the dial button.
"Sam? Is everything alright?" Cas said when he answered.
"Yeah, Cas," Sam replied as he put him on speaker. "How're you and Jack holding up?"
"We are both doing well."
"Okay, great," Dean chimed in. "Sam has a theory about this case we picked up yesterday."
"Have you ever heard of mothman?" Sam asked.
"Is this another...super hero from the comic books?" Castiel asked.
"No. We're in Washington at the Cougar Mountain Regional Park. Uh... Here, I'll send you a link to the folklore. It might just be a myth, but I thought a man with wings might be able to tell if that's what this is."
The sudden sound of flapping wings startled both brothers as they frantically turned in their seats, guns drawn. "Jesus, Cas!" Dean yelled. "A little warning!"
Jack was beside him, looking questioningly at the guns. They were quick to put them away.
"I apologize, but after reading the material you sent, I needed to see this for myself. Where is the mothman?" he asked.
"Dude, we don't know if it's mothman," Dean replied with a raised brow.
"These drawings are crude and likely fabricated, as are the photos," the angel told them. "But it may not be a myth."
"What do you mean?" Sam asked, intrigued.
"There is a sector of angels called Virtues. They are charged with signs and miracles. Your articles say that theories of this mothman creature is that it either causes the destruction, or comes to warn people of it. They're mostly wrong."
"Mostly?" Dean asked.
"Are they bad?" Jack asked the older angel.
"No," he replied. "Virtues...warn people, but not in any way you would expect. Their presence causes a type of butterfly effect on those who see them. Most of the time, this works to avoid the person's involvement in the destruction. Unfortunately, not everyone who sees them is deterred from their path."
"Wait wait," Dean held a hand out in front of him. "So the people that end up sighting this thing, they're supposed to be in...whatever big bad thing happens that they're being warned about?"
"It's not a fate set in stone," Castiel replied. "The Virtues simply try to save as many people as they can."
"By scaring the crap outta them?"
"By appearing as something that cannot be explained, it affects the human mind in a way that may or may not alter the future decisions they make."
"Like a subliminal message?" Sam asked.
"In a way, yes."
"So wait," Dean interjected. "These Virtue things know when something bad is gonna happen? Why don't they just stop it from happening? Why not appear as a freaking anchor man and report it on the news? Why a human bird-moth...thingie?"
"It's never that simple, Dean. You should know that far too well by now."
"Okay so I guess the question is, should we interfere?" Sam asked. "I mean...is the Virtue bound by a single form of warning system? Would they tell us what and when this thing is supposed to happen and we can maybe try to stop it?"
"No one has ever tried to speak to a Virtue. Even if they did, I doubt they would answer in a way humans can understand."
"They're supposed to be signs," Dean said. "Why can't they appear as an actual sign like...do not enter the cave full of bears?"
"If there is a Virtue here," Castiel continued, ignoring Dean's question. "I would very much like to see for myself."
"Why?" Sam asked, genuinely curious. "Can't you just...call them up on angel radio or something?"
Castiel shook his head. "I didn't think any of them had survived the fall," he said sadly. Then his eyes darted around in thought. "Perhaps they were here when it happened."
"If not radio, can't you sense their presence or something?" Dean suggested.
Cas looked up at him. "Perhaps." And the next moment, he was gone. Dean sighed in annoyance.
"What if..." Jack began, looking a bit anxious. "What if...I'm the bad thing that's going to happen?" he asked, looking at Sam.
"You weren't even here until just now," Sam told him. "And we're going straight back to the bunker once we figure out what this thing is."
"But if it's not me that's the bad thing, I might be able to help."
"But then what if you helping is what sets off the bad thing?" Dean said, rolling his head to relieve the tension in his neck. "It ain't worth a wait-and-see. And there might be nothing we can do anyway. If this even is a Virtue. It's entirely possible that we came out here to find a giant flock of shape-mocking birds."
"Well then," Jack said, "I hope it is just a flock of...shape-mocking birds. I don't like when good people get hurt."
Dean and Sam looked at him for a little longer, before Dean broke the silence. "You hungry, kiddo?"
"We were about to eat dinner when you called."
"I'll take that as a yes," he said as he turned back to face forward. "Let's go kill an hour at that diner just outside the park. I'm sure Cas'll call if he finds something before we're back."
*~.~*
Castiel roamed the forest on foot, feeling for anything at all. Once he caught a trail, he began to follow.
The feeling began as anticipation. It was a little different for different types of angels. For this one, it felt like butterflies, as Dean had called a similar feeling in the past. The closer he came to the origin, the stronger it became; swelling in his chest as though something might burst from it. He could feel his vessel's heart beat through his entire body.
He hadn't expected the illumination that followed; a glittering of light that became a trail connecting him to the being he sought out.
When he finally saw her, she looked at Castiel as though she'd been expecting him. Her vessel was translucent and seemed animated with the same light that lead him to her. She was bald, and her wings were the only part of her that looked real.
"Your wings are different than ours," he said to her, not completely aware he was speaking aloud.
"Castiel," she spoke, but her mouth hadn't moved. "Brother."
"You know me." It was a question, really. Most angels knew all the others. Virtues were like the relative that was too far away to even come home for Christmas. He knew of their existence, but that was the extent of it.
"I am your sister, but I have no name."
Castiel studied her for a moment. "Don't you want one?"
She looked away in consideration. "I never needed one," she replied. "I've never met my brothers and sisters. I've always stayed among the humans, never had one hear my voice."
"Your voice seems to actually be your mind," he replied. "Humans can't read those. Well, maybe a few..."
She smiled at him.
"Why are you here?" he asked her. "Are there any others like you left?"
She looked down. "I am...alone."
"Why are you here?" he asked again.
She looked up at him again. "I'm trying to find them, but there isn't much time."
"Who are you trying to find?"
"I...don't know. It used to be so clear, and now it's only ever by chance."
Castiel thought for a moment. "The trail that led me to you...that's how you find them?"
"It was. It doesn't light anymore. Not until I'm so close."
"Perhaps a mountain isn't the best place to hope for chance encounters."
"You don't understand, Castiel." She looked deeply into his eyes. "I am dying." Confusion and sadness washed over Castiel's features. "Without the others to compliment me, my power is fading quickly."
"What about me?" Cas asked. "Can I give you something from me?"
"Our grace is too different," she replied wetly, a sad smile shining through anyway. "Like human blood, we can only receive and give to those like us." She watched her brother's sad gaze fall to the earth. "It's okay," she assured him, laying a hand on his shoulder. He was surprised to feel the weight of it and he looked back up at her. "Loneliness has been far worse than dying. And I am so glad to have met you before the end." He stepped forward to embrace her, and he felt her return the gesture weakly. "Enough of this," she said as she pulled away. "I need your help."
"Anything."
"The death of my kind caused great destruction. Most of them went to the ocean, thinking they would cause the least damage there. They were wrong, and I couldn't save any of the humans. There wasn't time. We didn't know until it was too late. Tsunamis formed. Great earthquakes. Great storms. At least I had time to consider the best options. I needed to be high up," she continued. "Only as high as I could get myself at this point. My ability to travel is gone, and this was the best I could do. I can't fly, or I'd go way out into the heavens," she said as she looked up at the small splotch of sky that wasn't covered in cloud. "I've tried to make the humans stay away from here, but it seems I'm only drawing more of them ..."
*~.~*
"It's getting dark," Dean said as he wiped his hands in a napkin at their table in the diner. "We should head back; check on Cas."
"Yeah, I doubt he gets reception up there," Sam added as they all got out of the booth. Dean slipped some cash onto the table and they headed out toward the car. Dean unlocked the doors and turned to look out in the direction they'd be heading. It was then that he spotted the strange glowing in the distance.
"You seeing this?" he asked no one in particular.
"Yeah," Sam and Jack responded simultaneously. Wordlessly and quickly they entered the Impala and Dean had them racing toward the trail.
*~.~*
"I can take you there," Castiel offered. "Up into the heavens where it will cause no harm."
"You could die," she told him. "I don't want you to die, Castiel."
Castiel shrugged. "It wouldn't be the first time...this week." She tilted her head a bit in confusion. "Besides, I can get away right before...it happens. You will not harm me."
"I would do anything to save the humans from what will happen, but not if it means your life. You have to promise me. Promise me you can get away in time." Before Castiel could answer, she gasped in a breath and looked somewhere off in the distance beside him. "I see them! I...I see the trails! There are humans in danger!" Castiel spun around to see the Impala speeding up the path to the trail in the distance. "You must save them from me, brother," she told him.
His head filled with hesitation, even upon knowing exactly what to do. If he should die, Dean would be extremely angry with him. And...Jack. Jack would be disappointed. He would be sad. Was it selfish to leave like this? Leave this boy who needed him?
The ground shook beneath him and he nearly fell over.
"It's starting!" she said, her voice filled with terror. Castiel met her eyes, and he knew what he had to do...
*~.~*
Dean slammed the brakes and the Impala swerved to the side before it stopped completely. The three of them got out of the car, not even bothering to shut the doors as they felt the earth shake beneath them.
"What the hell?" Dean exclaimed as he tried to keep his footing.
"Castiel, no!" Jack yelled.
Sam turned to him and grabbed his arms as he, too, tried to keep his footing. "What is it, Jack?"
"He told me he has to take her to the sky. She's going to die and it'll cause great destruction if she remains on earth, so he's taking her up there! But that means..."
"I'm sure Cas knows what he's doing!" Dean told him.
"But it could kill him!" Jack shouted. Just in that moment the earth stopped shaking, and they watched the impossibly fast trail of light as it soared straight up into the sky.
"Cas..." Dean whispered. "Don't you dare fucking die on me." Jack started running. "Hey! What are you doing?" Dean called out as he took off after him.
"I can't let him die again! I gotta go save him!"
"I think the direction you're looking for is thataway," Dean stopped him as he pointed up. "But you need to just wait it out, because if it can kill Cas, it could kill you too."
A loud, eerie sonic-like boom sounded above them and they all looked upward. Some of the clouds had dispersed to reveal the night sky. The sound of wings had Dean's eyes shooting to where Jack had been standing a moment ago. Now he was gone. "Sonofabitch!" Then his attention was pulled back upward as lightning danced strongly in the clouds above them, like it was crawling, creeping toward the opening and then pouring out. He watched in frozen awe as it began striking the ground so close the resulting thunder rendered him temporarily deaf. He watched in horror as it seemed to crawl across the ground as it had in the clouds, one strike after the other, getting closer and closer to where he'd parked...
His eyes found Sam, still standing near the car, just as frozen as Dean was now. "Sam-" Dean had meant to scream it, to tell Sam to get the hell out of there, because there was no way he could cross the few hundred yards that separated them faster than that lightning was traveling. No way he could knock him down in time. "Saaaaaaaamm!" Finally it punched out of him, but the bolt was striking his little brother now...almost like it was suspended there, like fingers tickling his chest and moving higher still.
Sam's back was bowed, his arms hanging behind him as his body shook with the force of the electricity. And then, all at once, it was gone. Sam stood...actually stood for a moment before he collapsed.
"Nooo!" Dean yelled, his brain finally getting the message through to his body to move. He ran hard, skidding to his knees once he was beside Sam. His hands shook as he hovered over Sam, his brain trying to translate what he was seeing. Sam's shirt was smoking. Smoking. The stupid thing held together by mere strips now, singed away to almost nothing. The wind shifted, clearing the smoke and revealing the terrible burns on his torso. But Dean sought out his brother's eyes. "Sammy?" his voice shook as he reached out to grab Sam's face. "Sammy, can you hear me?" Stupid question because right now he could barely hear himself. "Sammy, need you to wake up, okay? Need you to talk to me!" If he could hear himself, he'd hear the brokenness deep in his voice, rattling from his chest where his heart was beating so hard it was painful.
He pressed his fingers to Sam's neck in search of a pulse, and the shock of not finding one shook him right out of his state of paralyzing panic. "Oh god," he said as he tore open the shredded remains of Sam's tee shirt. His hands hovered for a moment, hesitating to start CPR when his chest was so messed up. But he had to. He had to.
"Oh god, Sammy, please," his voice cracked as he worked. "Please don't do this to me!" His eyes shot to the sky above them. "Caaaaaas!" he shouted desperately. "Jaaaack!" As his gaze fell back to his brother, tears fell with it. It seemed like an eternity. His shoulders stung and twinged with every effort to keep Sam's blood pumping. His phone...hell, he couldn't stop to call for help. Not like they'd get there in time anyway. If Cas was gone...they were fucked.
"Goddamnit, Sam!" he tried to yell, but it came out brokenly. His own breaths were labored and painful, but he ignored it. Nothing was going to get in his way of saving his baby brother. "Sammy, please! I need you to breathe! I need you to wake the hell up, goddamnit!" He screamed out for Cas again. "You have to come," he said, no longer able to yell. It came almost as a whisper, almost to himself. "You have to be okay, Cas. I need you." The ache in his chest—the familiar pull of heartbreak and hopelessness—deepened. "C'mon, Sam. C'mon, man. I can't... I can't do this. I can't..." There was no way he could do it this time. No way he could keep going if Sam didn't make it...
tbc...
