Title: Lost Little Birdie
Author: Drey'auc475
SUPERNATURAL
Rating: K+ to T
Spoilers: Ep 5x17
Genre: Angst/Romance
Setting/Season: Set after 5x17 'Point of No Return'.
Summary: After the events at the warehouse in PONR, Castiel is missing for two weeks. Then he's found by a young woman in LA and suddenly he has a reason to fight again.
Disclaimer: Supernatural belongs to Kripke, as do the characters. But that doesn't mean I can't kidnap them for my own fun once in a while. Hehehe!
A/N: my take on where Castiel went after he banished himself and the other angels from the warehouse. And if there's a beta out there who'd like a crack at it, please let me know. I kind of wrote this quicker than I normally would because I wanted to get the first chapter out before this Thursday's episode.

-----Prologue-----

He floated… on nothing for a while, his mind dazed and drifting from the banishment spell he used on the other angels. His chest hurt; something he'd never experienced before. But beyond that he had no concept of where he was, how he got there, and even who he was. His wings felt like dead weights at his back and he was vaguely aware of someone else inside his body.

So he continued to drift for what felt like centuries. And then, with a resounding crack, he slammed into something very solid, like he'd hit the edge of the universe. Awareness slowly returned and he struggled to open his eyes, if he had any at all.

Rubbish was in drifts around him, the stench over-powering. Hard, rough tarmac was under his cheek and he felt a wind cut through him, making him shiver for the first time in his long life.

His body was aflame, a pain that would surely drive him insane, and threatened to make his head burst. A scream of agony was torn from his raw throat and a voice in his mind echoed the sound, making his head hurt even more.

Pain flooded through every bone, muscle and pore reducing the fallen angel that was Castiel to a shivering heap in a back alley of Los Angeles.

-----Chapter 1-----
April McInnis walked quickly down the alley toward her apartment building. It wasn't exactly in the best neighborhood, but she'd gotten used to keeping a can of mace in her pocket, her hand clasped tightly around it. The alley was empty at the moment, and it was still light, but that didn't mean that something shady didn't lurk in the concealed doorways. Normally Chad and his crew hung around the mouth of the alley and they kept an eye on her, but tonight they were nowhere to be seen.

Her heart beat began to race a little and she quickened her step toward the door to her building, halfway down the alley.

As she got about halfway to her door, a pain filled scream of a man in agony split the silence. April jumped nearly four foot in the air and stopped, hand tightening around the can of mace. Looking around in the dark shadows of the alley, she spotted the shape of a man writhing on the ground next to a dumpster.

April's first instinct was to run to the man and check if he needed help. But living in LA all her life, the whole twenty-five years of it, had taught her not to take anything at face value. Swallowing her heart back down from where it beat in her chest, April steadily approached the man on the ground.

As she neared him she saw he was dressed in a tan trench coat, black suit and what used to be a crisp white dress shirt. Sweat soaked the shirt and coated the man's pale skin, slicking his short, dark hair to his forehead.

"Sir?" she called cautiously, tucking her reddish brown hair behind her ear. "Sir, are you alright?"

It seemed like a pretty stupid question to April, and she bit her lip as she crept closer. She was standing almost right next to him when he opened his eyes to look up at her. They were a deep ocean blue, and even in a face contorted with pain, she could see they were wise eyes that looked through to your very soul. The man locked gazes with her as he sucked in a breath and suddenly went still. For one heart-stopping moment, April was afraid he'd died, but as she looked into his eyes she could see he was still very much alive.

The man's eyes suddenly scrunched shut in pain and he uttered a guttural cry, grabbing his chest. Blood had begun to seep through his shirt, staining the white bright red. April, throwing caution to the wind, fell to her knees beside the man in the disgusting alley and dug out her cell phone, finally letting go of the can of mace.

"I'll call an ambulance," she said, her voice quaking slightly. She had no idea what to do! She was a collage drop-out who worked the morning shift at the local coffee shop. Her heart was pounding in her chest as she punched in the numbers.

The man's hand shot out just before she hit 'call'. "No!" he cried, his grip like iron on her thin wrist.

"But –" April stammered. "You're hurt – you need to go to a hospital."

"No," the man repeated, pain leeching through his tone. April hurt just looking at him. "I just need to rest."

"No, you need a doctor –"

"Please," the man begged. His eyes locked on hers again, beseeching. "I need a place to rest… for a few days."

April stared down at him, concern creasing her eyebrows together. She really should call an ambulance and get this guy to the ER. But something about him made her rethink it. The way his eyes implored her, begging her to shelter him.

"I'm not trained –" she started. "I mean, I have basic first aid training, but… I can't help you beyond that."

He stared at her, his gaze intense. "I just need to rest," he repeated. His eyelids were drooping and his skin was ashen. Touching a gently hand to his forehead, April found his skin was freezing. It was then that she made up her mind. She had to help him. Who knew what could happen if she left him here? Her apartment was nice and warm (well, most of the time, if she paid the bills on time) and she had that med-kit stashed under the kitchen sink. Looking back down the alley, toward the opening, she watched the passing traffic for a moment, before looking back down at the man. He still watched her, eyes drooping, struggling to stay open.

Sighing, April reached for his arm and struggled to help him to his feet. He swayed precariously, throwing a blood stained hand out to rest against the wall.

"Ok, buddy," April said, slinging one arm over her shoulders and putting her arm around his waist. "Easy does it." He staggered the first few steps, falling to his hands and knees. It took her nearly five minutes to get him back on his feet, and another ten to get him to her door twenty feet away.

Leaning him against the door frame she fished for her keys. A young, male voice called her name from the street and April turned to see Chad heading toward her. Chad was one of the local street kids who hung around the area. The day April had moved in she'd paid him to help her carry her boxes up three flights of stairs and they'd been friends ever since. At fourteen he and his friends hung around the alley mouth after school and Chad had taken it upon himself to look out for her.

She smiled and fit her key into the lock. The man, who was dangerously close to passing out, rolled his head to the side, and tried to straighten.

"Yo, April!" Chad called, as he trotted toward her, his friends hanging near the mouth of the alley, laughing and cat-calling to Chad. It was well known that he had a crush on April. "What up?"

"Hey, Chad," she replied, pushing the door open, throwing out and arm to catch the man who nearly collapsed into the building.

"Whoa," Chad said as he neared her, spotting the man with blood on his shirt. "What bus hit 'im?"

Suddenly an idea stuck her. "Chad, I need to get him up to my apartment, do you think you and your crew could give me a hand?"

The teen rocked back on a leg, putting a hand to his chin. "Well, let me see now. Me 'n Mikes could get this dog up to your pad for… a kiss?" he said hopefully.

April couldn't help but laugh. "Done," she said. Chad smiled widely at her, flashing his white teeth, before puckering his lips and closing his eyes. Laughing again, April leant forward and kissed his cheek, making sure not to overbalance herself with the man leaning against her.

Chad opened his eyes, looking disappointed. April shrugged. "You said a kiss, you didn't say where." Chad mock frowned at her and crossed his arms before calling to Mikes to come help. Another teen, tall and solid jogged over to her door.

"Hey, Miss April," he said, thumping Chad on the shoulder and slapping his hand.

"Thanks for this, boys," April said, stepping aside and letting Chad and Mikes take one of the man's arms each and help him up three flights of narrow stairs. By the time they reached the top, they were practically carrying him. April opened the door to her apartment and told the boys to put him on the couch. They practically manhandled the man, who was on the verge of passing out, onto the battered three seater with an 'oof'.

April rushed to the freezer and pulled out a box of ice-creams, handing it to Chad. "Your proper payment – for you and your crew. Thank you, Chad."

He accepted the ice-creams with gratitude. "You're one cool cat, Miss April." Then he and Mikes were gone, closing the door behind them.

Sighing, April pulled out the first-aid kit from under the kitchen sink and wet a tea towel, before moving over to the man from the alley. Sitting on the edge of the sofa, April helped him out of the coat and his suit jacket. She hung them over the edge of the coffee table and flipped open the first aid kit.

The man watched her with drooping and cautious eyes as she dabbed his sweaty face with the damp towel. Those blue eyes seemed to glow at her in the low light of her apartment. Again he seemed older and wiser than he looked. With is face not contorted in agony like before, she could see that he was also very handsome.

Biting her lip, April dragger her eyes from his. "Are you still in pain?" she asked softly.

The man swallowed before answering. "Yes. But it's not as intense as it was before."

"That's good." She dabbed the rag down his face to his neck and he sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. April began to think he'd passed out but then his eyes opened again and he coughed. Groaning, he settled back against the arm rest. April fetched a pillow and put it under his head.

"I don't even know your name, and I've brought you up to my apartment." She huffed a laugh. "I found you in an alley – you could be a serial killer for all I know."

His eyes stared at her impassively for a long moment. "Castiel," he said.

April frowned. "I don't know what that means?"

"It's my name."

"Oh." April felt heat rise in her cheeks. "That's a strange name. I'm April. April McInnis." He nodded to her and she felt herself smile a little. She continued dabbing his face for a moment, before setting the towel aside. The front of Castiel's shirt was soaked in blood by now and April set about opening the buttons one by one, trying to prepare herself for what she was about to see.

But nothing could have prepared her for what she did see.

There was blood everywhere, and under the blood was a series of cuts that seemed to make symbols. A large circle was carved into the middle of his chest, with other smaller symbols carved around and inside it. April felt sick just looking at it. She picked up the damp towel again and was about to start cleaning the cuts when Castiel grabbed her wrist.

"Do not put your palm flat in the centre," he said, his voice raspy and slow. Then his eyes closed.

"What happens then?" she asked. There was no response. "Castiel?" His head rolled to one side, and it was clear to April that he was unconscious. Sighing, she set about cleaning the cuts but did as he asked.

Once clean, April could see that some of the cuts were deeper than others and needed stitches, yet cleanly cut so they had to have been done with something sharp. The best thing was that they'd stopped bleeding. Which confused her. She'd had cuts that deep before (never to that extent of course) and it usually took a long time to clot.

A lot of the cuts were angry red and starting to scab already, so she covered the whole area with a big swab of gauze and taped it down with tape from the med-kit. Grabbing a bottle of aspirin she shook out two pills and set them on the coffee table. Then she packed up the first aid kit and returned it to its space under the sink. Covering her hands with detergent, she scrubbed them until she was sure they were clean and filled a glass with water from the sink, setting it on the coffee table next to the aspirin.

Finally with a moment to just look at him, she could see that a little of his color had returned. His hair was still slick with sweat and sticking out at all angles. In unconsciousness, Castiel looked younger, with no wrinkles marring his forehead or features contorted in agony. Dark bruises stood out under his eyes, making his face look sunken and thin. But despite that, he was incredibly good looking. April's heart beat a little faster at the thought of this hunk sleeping in her living room.

With a shaky sigh, she went and took a shower. After, she set out a fresh towel for Castiel, should he want to take a shower, and dumped her dirty clothes in the laundry hamper. Wrapped only in a towel she darted across the living room to her bedroom. After she'd dressed and pulled her damp hair back into a loose bun she entered the living room again. Picking up his coats April hung them on the coat rack by the door, next to her own. At that moment, something in his coat pocket started vibrating and ringing. Cautiously fishing it out, April found a cell phone. The shrill ringing continued for a moment before it ceased, no doubt picked up by some form of answering service.

With a cautious glance at Castiel, April flipped the phone open and looked at the display. He had fourteen missed calls and twelve voice mails. All the missed calls were from either a Dean Winchester or a Sam Winchester. Obviously related to each other, but what connection did they have to Castiel?

As she stared at the phone, the battery low symbol began to flash. She didn't think that Castiel had the charger on him, and it wasn't a phone April was familiar with so she didn't have a spare one lying about anywhere.

At that moment the phone began ringing shrilly again, causing April to almost drop it. It was Dean Winchester. With another glance over her shoulder at Castiel she made a snap decision and hit 'answer'.

Putting the phone to her ear she heard a torrent of words from an aggravated man, not even waiting for a 'hello'.

"Cas, you stupid sonofabitch – don't you EVER do that to us again! The next time you pull that shit I'm gonna kick your ass into next year and then you can tell us how the apocalypse turns out, huh?" There was a pause. "Cas, you there?"

April wasn't sure what to say. She should say something, right? This guy seemed like he was Castiel's friend, calling him by a nickname and all. Cas. She liked it.

"Cas! C'mon, man. Talk to me, please." There was a sigh on the other end of the line. "Look, I'm sorry alight. I'm sorry that I was gonna give in and say 'yes' to Michael, and hand myself over to be a meat-suit. I just… didn't see another way. But, hey, I managed to get out of it, so… are we cool?"

While whatever this guy had to say was incredibly confusing, April had to say something now. Especially when this guy thought she was Castiel. She cleared her throat. "Um, hi," she started. "Is this Dean?"

"Yes. Who the hell is this?" the voice demanded gruffly.

"Um, my name is April… April McInnis."

"And why the hell do you have my friend's cell phone?"

April glanced over at Castiel. "Because he's passed out on my couch."

There was a silence that stretched out for a long moment. Then the gruff voice returned. "OK, April was it? I need you to wake up Cas and put him on the phone." He was talking to her like she was a child. She frowned at his tone, not liking it at all.

"He's pretty banged up. I don't think a marching band could wake him right now."

Dean let out a frustrated sigh. "Fine. Can you leave him a message please?"

Still frowning, April said, "Alright."

The phone squawked in her ear. "What was that?" Dean demanded.

"The battery's running low."

"Right – tell Cas that me and Sam are gonna be at Bobby's for the next two days then we head out. Tell him to call me if he gets to Bobby's and we're not there. Got it?"

"Yes, sir," April replied, a sarcastic tone to her voice. "Do you want me to tell him that other bit, too? About being sorry and all?"

Dean sounded awkward for a moment. "Yeah, I guess. He was pretty pissed at me." There was another pause. "Where are you, by the way?"

"In my apartment?" Yeah, so she was a bit of a smart ass. But that was her father's fault.

Dean grumbled. "No – I meant continentally."

"Los Angeles."

She could hear the frown in his voice. "How the hell did he get there?"

April shrugged. "I found him in the alley outside my apartment building next to a dumpster. He had this symbol thing carved into his chest." She shivered as she remembered the gruesome sight.

"What'd it look like?"

"Um, a large circle with smaller symbols around it. Why? Do you know who did this to him?"

"Son of a bitch," Dean swore. "Yeah, himself. Can you also tell him he's an idiot?"

April wanted to laugh. "Sure." The phone squawked again.

"I better go. Make sure you give him that message alright?"

"Yes, I will." The squawking sounded again and was becoming more insistent.

"Thanks." Then he hung up.

April pulled the phone away from her ear in time to see the battery symbol empty and the screen go blank. Sighing she flipped the phone shut and slipped it back into Castiel's pocket.

Stretching, she moved back over to Castiel. Cas… she liked the nickname. It suited him better than 'Castiel' anyway. Hesitantly, she reached forward and brushed the hair off his forehead. He stirred a little and April snatched her hand back.

"Mine," Castiel muttered. "Not yours." April frowned. She knew it wasn't directed at her. At least she hoped it wasn't. And the tone of his voice had changed. It wasn't as gravely as she had only heard.

He didn't speak again, and April stood to find she was very hungry. She pulled out the leftover tuna bake Mrs. Caine from number 25 had made her and put it in the microwave. After she ate, April checked the cuts on Castiel's chest again, and headed to bed. Hopefully he'd be awake by the time she left for work.

-----XXX-----

AN: OK, so this was originally only supposed to be a short story, only about 5000 words. But if this first chapter is upward of 3000 so you can guess how long the rest of it is. So far I'm up to chapter 10 and I haven't finished yet. Please stay tuned for more.

And for those following me on author alerts, don't worry – I haven't given up on Congrats yet. This is just a respite because my head is too full of Supernatural right now and I had to do something! I'll be back onto it real soon.