A/N: Sequel to "In the Shadow of Your Wings." For Elektra Elentari, because we love Charlie.
Disclaimer: Supernatural isn't mine.
Side note to Guest, bored destiel: in case you didn't see my response to your question in the review section of "Dying is Easy..." (and in case you read this story)—you can also check my profile for posting schedules.
"In the Shelter of Your Wings"
Castiel frantically searched the brewery, but there was no sign of Charlie. She must have taken her laptop and left, but to where? And why? Castiel had locked Rowena in a separate room to give Charlie the break she wanted. Why would she trick him like this? Especially given what was at stake.
"Dammit, Charlie," he muttered, pulling out his phone and dialing her number.
It took two rings before the line clicked, but at first there was only a scuffling noise and harsh breathing. "C-Castiel?" Her tone immediately put him on guard.
"Charlie, where are you?"
"Um, a…a motel…t-t-the Blackbird. Castiel, someone is here. T-t-they think I have the book."
"I'm coming."
There was a muffled sound of something breaking—a door perhaps. Castiel's heart jolted with fear; he'd never make it there in time.
"Charlie, just give them what they want," Castiel said, launching into a run toward the door. He heard Charlie inhale sharply.
"I can't do that."
"Charlie, it's not worth your life!" Castiel burst outside into the pouring rain. His car sat in the weeded lot, and he knew that in cold weather like this it would take longer to start. Too long.
Charlie's voice was quiet with her response. "It's Dean's life."
Castiel's chest constricted. It was Dean's life, his soul, at stake. Not to mention the Book of the Damned falling into the wrong hands could be catastrophic. But Dean wouldn't want this. Not this. Castiel skidded to a stop in front of his car. The trusty vehicle wouldn't serve him now. The only way Castiel would make it would be if…
He spread his battered wings, brittle bones creaking from disuse. His muscles quivered, but Castiel steeled his resolve…and leaped. Splintering agony speared through his wings as the currents of the ether buffeted them, the sparse plumage unable to flap firmly against the force to keep him steady. Castiel was wrenched back and forth in the turbulence, but fortunately it was only a short distance to the motel Charlie was at. Otherwise, he probably would have been torn away to crash down somewhere off course.
As it was, Castiel landed with a knee-jarring impact on the asphalt of the parking lot. The crippling pain in his wings pitched him forward into a puddle, and his muscles threatened to spasm. But he gritted his teeth and forced himself upright again. He needed to get to Charlie.
Castiel turned, spotted one of the motel room doors hanging wide open, and staggered toward it. He had to grip the doorjamb to keep himself standing as he stumbled into the room. Directly across from him, a man filled the frame of the bathroom doorway. Half of his left arm was missing, the bloody stump dripping pinkish rain water onto the floor. The man, however, seemed completely unconcerned with that fact. Just beyond him, Castiel could see Charlie in front of the sink, knife in hand, bravely facing down her assailant.
"Step away from her," Castiel ordered.
The man half-turned to cast an unperturbed look over his shoulder. "Best you mind your own business."
Castiel took a threatening step forward. "I won't ask you again."
Charlie's eyes widened, and she opened her mouth to likely shout a warning, but Castiel had already sensed someone coming up behind him. He whipped around, catching the wrist of the second attacker before the man could drive a knife into Castiel's back. Castiel grabbed a fistful of the man's shirt with his other hand and flung him across the room. The man crashed into the wall with a resounding thud before landing on the bed.
Charlie suddenly screamed, and Castiel whirled. The first guy was bearing down on her, having somehow taken Charlie's own knife from her. Castiel surged forward and grabbed the man by the back of his shirt, swinging him around and throwing him out into the bedroom. Castiel spared Charlie a quick glance; she was huddled on the floor under the sink, clutching a bloody slash across her stomach. Castiel spun back to face the attackers, fury crackling on the air like static. Both men slowly got to their feet, still holding their weapons. Castiel caught a glimpse of a tattoo Sam had told him about. So these were Stynes.
"You have no idea what you're dealing with here," the one with the amputated arm said, pupils dilated with mounting rage.
The air grew darker and heavier, and Castiel lowered his voice to match the rumble of distant thunder. "Neither do you."
He drew his shoulders back. Lightning flashed outside, and Castiel arched his wings to their full height. Great black shadows filled the room, branching up and out like ghostly apparitions. The men's eyes widened a fraction, and the second guy stumbled back a step.
The first, however, quickly recovered. Nostrils flaring, he lunged forward. Castiel dropped his angel blade into his hand and swung it up to parry. Metal screeched on collision. Castiel punched the guy in the jaw, sending him reeling back. Without his other arm, he failed to catch his balance, and crashed to the floor.
Castiel spun to meet the second Styne as he charged. Their blades crossed, but this man plowed into Castiel, slamming him back against the wall. He was briefly stunned by the unnatural strength they possessed. Yes, giving them the Book would be very bad.
Castiel shoved back against the man. He sliced his blade across the guy's shoulder, and then delivered a quick undercut that knocked him back off his feet.
The man with the missing arm flung himself at Castiel then. Castiel grabbed his wrist and wrenched it down and under to drive the knife between two of the Styne's ribs. Castiel gave the blade a sharp twist before yanking it out and tossing it aside.
The man dropped to his knees, throat working in shock, and yet he did not fully collapse. In fact, he attempted to rise again. Castiel flipped his angel blade around and drove it into the side of Styne's neck. The man gasped and sputtered, and still it was another few seconds before his eyes dimmed and his body fell limp.
Castiel jerked his blade free, letting the corpse drop to the floor. He whirled to face the second man, only catching a glimpse of him as he fled into the stormy night. Castiel quickly turned and hurried back to Charlie. Her entire body was trembling, hands shaking too much to apply pressure to her wound. Tears were streaming down her cheeks and her breaths hiccuped in her chest.
"Oh, Charlie," Castiel breathed, kneeling beside her and placing two fingers to her forehead. He healed her injury instantly, but the shock would require more time. They needed to get out of there, though, before the second Styne returned with reinforcements.
Castiel was soaking wet, yet he still slid his arms under Charlie's knees and behind her back, and lifted her up to cradle against his chest. He spotted her laptop on the floor, smashed to bits, but didn't have time to think about the implications of that. All it meant right now was there was nothing else valuable in this motel room to secure except the precious cargo in his arms.
Castiel carried Charlie out of the bathroom, angling her away from the sight of Styne's mutilated body. He did pause to bend down and snatch the keys to Charlie's vehicle off the table, and then Castiel swept out of the motel into the frigid rain. He instinctively curled his wings around his shoulders, trying to shield Charlie from getting wet. It didn't work, though, of course it didn't. There wasn't enough left of his wings to offer any real protection. Still, he couldn't bring himself to unwrap them as he hurried across the lot to the little yellow car.
Wrestling the key into the passenger door to unlock it without being able to see what he was doing took an extra moment, and by the time Castiel was able to slide Charlie into the seat, she was as drenched as he was. He jogged around the front of the vehicle, climbed in, and started the engine. Turning the heat up to max, Castiel quickly veered the car onto the road and drove out of there.
He cast worried glances at Charlie every thirty seconds. She was shivering, probably a combination of shock and being soaked. Castiel needed to get her somewhere warm where she could change into dry clothes.
"C-can we please…not go back t-to the br-brewery?" she finally spoke up.
"I was thinking the bunker," he replied. "You're in shock, and need a change of clothes.
Charlie was silent for a moment. "What do we tell Sam and Dean?" she asked quietly.
Castiel sighed. He wasn't comfortable lying to Dean about how they were trying to find a cure for the Mark. But neither did he want to tell Sam he'd lost Charlie and she'd almost gotten killed because of it. But Charlie's well-being came first.
"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."
o.0.o
Charlie had never been so happy and so nervous about pulling up in front of the bunker. On the one hand, Dean was going to be furious when he found out what they had all been doing behind his back. On the other, Charlie hadn't been thrilled with that approach anyway, but Dean finding out would make Sam mad, and there was just no upside to this entire situation.
Not to mention she felt completely and utterly stupid for having run off on her own like that. She knew the Stynes had been after her for a while, that they were relentless and ruthless. She shouldn't have let Rowena get to her like that.
"Castiel," she spoke up.
He looked over from the driver's seat after putting the car in park.
"Thank you. For coming after me."
His expression looked pained. "Of course. But why did you leave in the first place?"
"I know it was stupid, and I'm really sorry," she gushed. "I just…couldn't think anymore in that place. I needed space and a change of environment…" Charlie grimaced apologetically. "It did work, though. I broke the code."
Castiel gave her a bittersweet smile. "That's good. That means you can do it again."
Charlie frowned. Again? "Oh! I smashed my laptop."
He quirked a confused look at her. "Yes."
She almost laughed, though it was more on the verge of hysteria than humor. "I managed to email everything to Sam before I did that. We have what we need to help Dean! We just have to borrow Sam's computer now…" She trailed off, and both of their gazes lifted to the bunker door and what waited for them inside. At least it had stopped raining, not that they could get any more wet.
Castiel heaved a sigh, and then pushed his door open and climbed out. Charlie followed. She braced herself for a confrontation as they entered the bunker and descended the staircase, yet the place was quiet.
"Sam? Dean?" she called hesitantly. No one answered.
"They don't appear to be here," Castiel said.
Charlie hated how that made her relieved; she wouldn't have to face the music just yet. "I'm gonna grab a hot shower."
Castiel nodded, and Charlie headed toward the dormitory wing, thankful she'd started leaving a few personal items at the bunker whenever she and the boys had impromptu sleepovers. She retrieved a change of clothes and towel, and headed for the shower room. The hot water pounding against her skin felt good, and chased the chill away, though she found her hands were still shaking slightly when she handled the soap.
Once finished, Charlie slipped into sweat pants and a Hobbit t-shirt. On her way back out, it occurred to her that Castiel didn't seem to have a spare change of clothes, and he was just as wet as she'd been. She made a quick stop in Dean's room to retrieve a shirt and jeans, just in case the angel didn't have sense enough to change his clothes. He hadn't shown any interest in taking a shower himself.
Sure enough, when Charlie found Castiel in the kitchen pouring two mugs of freshly brewed coffee, he was still wearing his sopping suit and trench coat. Charlie rolled her eyes in fond exasperation.
"Here," she said, placing the extra clothes on the table. "You can change into these."
Castiel turned, and frowned at the articles. "Those are Dean's."
"Well, you won't fit in Sam's. And am I wrong that you don't have anything else?"
Castiel's jaw worked, but then he glanced down at the puddle his coat was dripping on the floor. "I suppose…that's necessary."
Charlie's lips twitched. "Trust me, it is. Now take those off so I can throw them in the dryer with mine."
Castiel slowly sloughed off the trench coat and suit jacket, and then began unbuttoning his dress shirt. When he reached for his pants right there in the kitchen, Charlie quickly averted her gaze, cheeks flushing warm. Castiel wasn't even her type, but there was something about watching an angel undress that seemed blasphemous.
She waited a few beats until it sounded like he'd at least gotten the jeans on before flicking a quick glance over her shoulder. Castiel had his bare back half turned toward her, and Charlie did a sharp double-take at the vibrant colors splotched up and down his skin.
"What happened?" she exclaimed, hurrying around to get a full view. She brought a hand up to cover her mouth. Castiel's back was a brutal array of black and purple bruises, the worst blossoming around his shoulder blades, but stretching down to mid-back. Charlie had been pretty terrified and stunned after Styne had cut her with the knife, but she didn't remember Castiel taking a beating when he arrived to defend her. In fact, he'd kicked their asses more, she was sure of it.
Castiel craned his neck over his shoulder, though he couldn't quite see what she meant. Charlie touched his arm to still him, and then gingerly ran her hand across one of the bruises. Castiel made a sound of sucking air through his teeth.
Charlie jerked her hand back. "Sorry. What happened?"
Castiel stepped away and picked up Dean's AC/DC shirt. "It's nothing. I just…may have overextended myself when I flew to the motel."
Charlie's eyes widened. "On those wings?" she nearly shrieked, remembering how broken and barren Castiel's wings had been just the other week when she'd helped perform first aid on them. "I thought you couldn't fly?" But he must have, because he had gotten there barely two minutes after Charlie had talked to him on the phone.
Castiel looked away. "'Flying' may be an exaggerated way of putting it. It felt more like punching a hole through the ether." He rolled one shoulder carefully, as though testing it, and winced. "But I had to get to you." Castiel lifted his gaze to meet hers, blue eyes wavering with emotion. "I was almost too late anyway."
Now Charlie felt even worse for taking off on her own. She'd not only endangered herself, but Castiel too.
He pulled Dean's t-shirt over his head, and his face scrunched up in pain as he tried to get his arms through the sleeves. Charlie quickly jumped in to help.
"Okay, here, sit down and start drinking this." She grabbed one of the mugs of coffee from the counter and put it on the table. "You need to warm up. I'm gonna throw our clothes in the dryer."
Castiel shook his head. "You should be resting."
Charlie lightly shoved him toward the chair. "You healed me and I'm fine. Now it's my turn to take care of you, and since I don't have healing mojo, I'm just gonna have to do what I can."
He looked ready to protest more, but Charlie turned her back and started gathering up his wet clothes, which she carried down to the laundry room. Seriously, this bunker had everything. She retrieved her wet clothes from the shower room, and threw everything in on the gentle cycle, praying nothing would shrink. Though, she was kind of tempted to take Castiel on a shopping spree for a new wardrobe.
She snatched a blanket from one of the rooms and hurried back to the kitchen where she found Castiel sitting down and sipping from his mug. Pleased, Charlie draped the blanket around his shoulders.
"Charlie, I appreciate the concern, but I don't…"
"Your back needs to be iced," she interrupted. "And after being soaked in the rain, it's not going to feel pleasant." She headed toward the freezer and took a look at its contents. There were two ice packs inside, which was not going to be enough. She paused to consider a bag of frozen peas before grabbing it and the packs.
"Okay, I'm gonna put the ice on," she warned, and started laying the packs against Castiel's back. His spine went rigid, but otherwise he held still. Charlie positioned each of the items to cover as much area as she could and be able to hold them in place with her hands and one elbow.
"There," she said brightly.
"Um, Charlie…" Castiel started, and she could hear his frown.
"Just twenty minutes," she responded. "And then twenty off."
"Charlie, you need to be resting yourself."
"Castiel," she said firmly, and then softened her tone. "Please, let me do this. You saved my life, and it's my fault you tried to fly with your wings like they are."
Castiel shook his head. "It's not your fault."
"Maybe not directly, but you're my friend and in pain. I can't take it away like you can for me, which frankly isn't fair. So…I'll help in whatever small way I can. And you just focus on drinking that coffee and staying warm. Icing is not comfortable."
Castiel let out a small huff. "No, it isn't."
They lapsed into silence, and perhaps it was somewhat awkward with Charlie leaning over Castiel's back like that. Holding the ice wasn't exactly comfortable for her, either, but she refused to make a comment about it. She could endure this.
"You know," she said hesitantly after several minutes. "When you showed your wings back there…they looked pretty terrifying. I mean they didn't look like anything to be ashamed of!" she hurried to correct. "The Stynes sure looked ready to wet their pants."
"Their clothes were already wet."
Charlie bit back a laugh. "Well, you were very badass back there. Thank you."
She felt him marginally relax beneath her palms.
"You're welcome."
The sound of the bunker door banging open echoed through the hallway. Charlie sighed; the boys must be back.
"Cas! Dammit, where are you?" Dean bellowed.
A moment later, he and Sam stormed into the kitchen. Both pulled up short at the sight of Charlie and Castiel, tense expressions clearing for a split second in bewilderment.
Charlie lifted the ice packs and set them on the table. "Uh, what's up bitches?" she said weakly.
Dean blinked at her, and then narrowed his gaze on Cas, specifically the AC/DC shirt.
"Um…" Castiel rose to his feet. "This can be explained."
Dean gave himself a small shake, anger returning. "Yeah, sure. Let's start with an explanation for this." He lifted a book that'd been tucked under his arm and slammed it on the kitchen table. Charlie jumped, and then gaped. It was the Book of the Damned. She shot Sam a wide-eyed look. A muscle in his jaw was ticking with equal amounts of frustration and distress.
"You three went behind my back," Dean continued. "Working with Rowena, on the Book. After I told you not to! After I told you to destroy it!"
Charlie bit at her bottom lip. "I'm sorry, Dean. We were just trying to help."
Dean shook his head, obviously trying to keep his temper under control. "And where the hell were you two? Sam got an email from you, but then neither of you were answering your phones. We went by the brewery, but you weren't there, just Rowena—unguarded." He spat the name and last part, still incensed about that, Charlie could tell. "We finally tracked Cas's phone's GPS back here, and now we find you…" Dean sputtered, and waved his hand at the two of them. "I don't even know."
Both Charlie and Castiel started to answer at the same time, so Charlie jumped in louder. "We had some trouble. With the Stynes. But it's okay, because they didn't get anything, and Castiel killed one of them."
"The other escaped," the angel put in unnecessarily.
Sam cleared his throat. "Okay, and?"
"And did you not notice it's been raining cats and dogs?" Charlie said. She shrugged guiltily at Castiel's current wardrobe. "Our clothes are in the dryer."
Dean's sharp gaze moved from Charlie, to Castiel, to the ice packs. "You okay?" he gruffly asked the angel.
"Yes. Charlie was taking care of me."
She felt a burst of warmth in her chest, and would have been beaming if Dean wasn't still oozing a dark storm cloud in a five foot radius around him.
"Alright." His gaze flicked to the Book of the Damned before quickly wrenching away, and he jabbed a finger around at the three of them. "This discussion isn't over." With that, he turned on his heel and marched off.
Charlie's shoulders sagged, and she looked at Sam. "We were doing the right thing, right?"
Sam just shook his head sadly. "I gotta go deal with Rowena. We left her in the trunk."
Charlie's brows shot upward, and Sam shrugged before leaving as well. Charlie collapsed into a chair. "This is my fault, isn't it?"
"No," Castiel replied. "I get the sense Dean figured it out before Sam got your email." He turned his gaze toward the hall where the Winchesters had disappeared, looking physically and emotionally exhausted as well.
Charlie got up and went to rifle through the cupboards. She found a breakfast tray, and then started loading it up with their mugs, the entire pot of coffee, and more bags of frozen veggies for Castiel to ice with.
"What do you say you and I go camp out in the guest room, watch some Lord of the Rings, and maybe wait out the brotherly man angst that's about to blow up?"
Castiel cocked his head at her, brow furrowed as though trying to parse out what she'd just said. Then he stepped forward and took the tray from her. "I think that's a good idea."
Charlie smiled. And when she later dozed off to the sound of screeching steel and clashing swords, stretched out on the bed next to Castiel, if she half-dreamed one giant wing was curled around her, well, it kept the nightmares at bay.