Note: Set in two weeks between Dean leaving Sam after Kevin's death and their frosty reunion, Sam and Cas decide to work a case in Helena, Montana. Castiel has his reservations, but it might just be the thing to make Sam take his foot from the car floor and let off some steam.
P.S. This is the first thing I've written in a while, so here goes! Next chapter to follow approximately two days from now...hopefully...
Chapter 1
Sigh No More
'What exactly do you expect we'll find in Helena?' Cas asked, turning his head to watch the fields roll by and avoid the tentative subject that was Sam's brother. The green pastures were being crept up on by the first breath of daylight, but the night was still heavy in the sky. He felt the heaviness of the empty Heaven above on his head but he kept his eyes on the seemingly endless seas of green. Sam shifted uncomfortably in the driver's seat, trying to keep awake. Cas had offered to take over several times over the past five hours, but his offer was rejected for reasons known only to Sam.
'I'm not sure yet, Cas,' Sam mumbled. He raised his hand to wipe the sleep from his eyes, barely paying attention to the blurring road ahead.
To say Cas about him was worried was an understatement. The phone in his pocket - which, even after being human, he was still unsure of - burned him, the solitary number stored calling him like a beacon. Dean could have talked Sam out of this erratic behaviour before, but under the circumstances, it seemed…unfit to call the only person who might be able to help. This puzzle Castiel had to somehow solve on his own.
They rolled into Helena about seven in the morning, and once they'd checked into the motel, Castiel sent Sam to sleep - unwillingly on Sam's part, but it needed to be done. For one thing, Cas needed the head space, and with Sam asleep, he locked the door and stepped out into the open air, letting out a breath that had been building for the past two days. The great grey mountains stood with the same pride he once had, cracking the skyline with jagged nails and dragging the green forests trees like dull gemstone shards into the warm dawn light. Thin white mist was beginning to fumble its way through the mountains, feeling its way through the rocky crevasses down towards the sleeping town of Helena.
In his current condition, Sam would probably be asleep for the rest of the day, which left Castiel some time to think things over. Thinking back with a smile over the human days past, he remembered fondly a small coffee establishment that the locals used to frequent for social gatherings or simply to read. So, whilst gathering a small amount of money from the car - an old, blue SUV with a questionable history they had picked up -, he took one of the research manuals from the trunk and made towards the centre of town.
A warm seat in the Vanilla Bean Bakery and a coffee was enough to put his mind at rest. The book lay in front of him, spread on the table, promising all the answers to their case, but Castiel's mind kept drifting to Dean, to where he was, to what he could be doing, to his safety. Perhaps angels just weren't meant to concentrate for so long on books. Well, it would certainly explain why we needed prophets - Kevin. And from Kevin, his mind fast-tracked back to Dean. The guilt was crushing him, and the wedge it drove between him and Sam was so thick he could feel it.
If he didn't have to heal Sam, would he have tried to follow Dean?
But Dean made it perfectly clear that he didn't want anyone, and that included him. Not that he took any notice of Cas, or said goodbye, or even looked at him before he left for good. It didn't hurt him, not one bit - why should it? He was being pig-headed, as usual, and Cas just had to put that behind him. He had to focus on Sam.
He went back to Sam at midday, no longer having the motivation to even pretend to be working. He picked up a few of the local newspapers for potential leads - he had seen the piles and piles of these things on the Winchesters' tables for years, so he knew he was doing this bit right at least. Sam was already stirring when he returned to their room, so he left him alone and began bringing the familiar duffel bags of clothes and guns out of the SUV. By the time he had thrown them down on his bed, Sam's eyes were open.
'Before you say anything-' Cas started, but Sam waved his hand to shut him up.
'I don't care, Cas,' he spat, 'just don't comatose me again, ok?' In other words, thanks, I feel much better.
It was enough to put Cas at ease, so he showed Sam the papers. 'Do these help at all?' he asked. Sam began scanning them with weary eyes, but soon enough he began circling articles with a marker pen, and after a short wait, came the inevitable-
'So get this,' he said, evidently feeling more himself, 'three victims found dead in alleys in the past two weeks with puncture wounds on their necks, but also a camper apparently mauled by a wild animal, and seven unexplained disappearances. These can't all be connected, there's got to be some kind of triple infestation here.'
'Consisting of?' Cas asked. He was still new at this, but he was guessing at least one of them was a vampire.
'Most likely, werewolf, demon, and vampire,' Sam said, not seeing the tiny smile at the corners of Castiel's mouth. 'But I could be wrong. We're going to need to go to the police station - have you still got your badge with you?'
'Are you sure,' Cas said cautiously, all too aware of the answer, 'that we can handle a case this big on our own? If it is three different kinds of monster, shouldn't we maybe-'
'No, Cas. We'll take this one at a time, but we'll do it alone. The less people involved, the less chance someone else will get hurt.'
Sam stormed off into the bathroom, dragging his bag from the bed to get ready to go. Cas looked at his reflection in the mirror, knowing that more than his wings were missing from the picture. Going to the bed, he unzipped the bag and took one of Dean's old ties from the mountain of clothes.
It wasn't until he tried to slip it over his head - Dean never bothered to untie them anymore -it that he realised it was the dark red striped tie Dean had worn on their first case together. Shame, more than anything, caught his throat. He slipped the noose over his head and pulled it tight.
