First fanfiction piece here, people. Hope you enjoy! Gosh, I have missed creative writing. Also, I'm currently on Season 5, so this is coming from the information I know about characters/plot so far, so if I'm ahead of where you are in the series, be warned! Possible spoilers!
Chapter 1- The Weapon
God, what I wouldn't give for some pie right now.
Dean checked the clock on the small bedside table a few feet away from him. In glowing red letters, it hummed that 3:30 in the morning was too late for pie, meaning it was too late for Dean to still be awake.
It was a miracle to get sleep nowadays. With Sam setting off the apocalypse, sleep was now a luxury for Dean. It seemed that whenever he thought he had gotten Sam out of dodge, Sam got himself knee-deep in something even worse.
More danger. More lives at stake. More Sam is at stake. Less sleep for Dean.
Dean was awoken from his thoughts as he heard a small snore from the other bed in the room. He let a smile stretch across his lips as he watched Sam sleep. The kid was lying on his stomach, sprawled out with each of his limbs hanging off the edge. No cheap motel bed could adequately hold Sam's towering height, leaving the younger brother with few options on sleep positioning. He developed a system over the years, which seemed to be successful, according to the second snore that escaped his lips. It was incredible how easily he could sleep with the world quickly becoming more chaotic by the day.
That was it, though. Dean's job was to make it easy for Sam to sleep at night. He was the big brother and that meant he was supposed to take care of his little brother. He was supposed to bear the weight that Sam's shoulders couldn't, or shouldn't have to, carry. As unfair as it felt sometimes, Dean was willing to grimace and move on. He went to Hell for Sam. Compared to that, what was a little stress to Dean Winchester?
Dean's stomach growled menacingly under the cheap sheets. Dean could hold his ground in more areas than not and would fight tooth and nail to hold that ground. However, when it came to hunger, Dean was a pansy. He glanced at the clock again, then at the keys that were lying next to it. I could leave really quick. I wouldn't be longer than ten minutes, fifteen at the most. That's plenty of time to grab a slice. His stomach objected, a little louder this time. Okay, maybe two. Three if Sam would eat one. Yeah, I'll grab it for me and Sammy.
His fingers almost touched the keys when a familiar voice said, "Dean. Get up."
Dean started and instinctively reached for the knife under his pillow. He searched for the intruder and found him standing in the middle of the room, wearing a disheveled trench coat and a slightly confused look.
Dean sighed, stuffing the knife back under the pillow. "Jeez, Cass. Don't you believe in letting people sleep? I mean, I get that the world is ending and all, but how am I to get anything done without some beauty sleep?" Dean gestured to the developing bags under his eyes for good measure.
Cass urged, in a slightly louder voice, "There is no time. You need to leave immediately."
Dean shushed him and motioned towards Sam. During the whole conversation, Sam hadn't awoken and Dean wanted to get some answers before taking Sam away from the first good night sleep he had had in a long time.
Dean threw back the covers and shivered as he put on the pair of jeans he had left on the floor. "What's the rush? Hold on, how'd you find us anyways? I thought we had an angelic Invisibility Cloak carved into our rib cages."
Cass cocked his head ever so slightly. "You told me that you would be here if I should have need of you. At 118 Oliver Way."
Dean rubbed his hands over the stubble on his face. I need a shave…and a few doses of sleeping pills. "You're right, Cass. I forgot. So, you 'have need of us'?"
Cass stared at Dean. Dean had at first been thrown off by Cass' intense stares, but had become numb to the soul-piercing baby blues over time. He hardly noticed now.
"Yes, Dean. I may have found our weapon against the apocalypse. The asset to defeat Lucifer."
Dean felt his eyebrows raise in surprise. Cass always seemed to lean towards the dramatic, but defeating the King of Hell was outright crazy talk. It had been thrown around once or twice, but Dean never really thought could be achieved. Could Cass really have found a way to end all of this?
Dean threw a pillow at Sam, who awoke and clumsily grabbed for the knife under his pillow. Dean shouted, "Hey, sleepy head. We have a visitor."
Sam squinted at Cass, knife still raised in the air. Cass calmly switched his gaze from the knife to Sam. After a moment, Sam lowered his hand and mumbled groggily, "Hey, Castiel."
After Sam got dressed with his eyes half open and Dean relayed the news, the two brothers each sat on their bed, both facing Castiel in anticipation for an elaboration. Cass replied by staring at them both.
Dean and Sam shared a glance. "Um…plan on sharing with the class in this century, Cass?"
Castiel resumed, "I have heard talk from angels of something powerful. Something that demons fear. It has been only brief bits of information, scattered and random. I think they are trying to keep their knowledge of this weapon secretive. The demons would quickly destroy anything they thought we would use against them."
Sam asked, "Do you know what this 'weapon' is? What it does?"
Dean interjected, "Does it kill demons? Is it some name-brand holy water? A special kind of demon-downing knife? A lifetime supply of salt?"
Castiel shook his head. "All I know is the address to find it at. You must leave now though. You may not be the only one looking for her and you do not want to cross paths with opposition. Evil is growing stronger."
Dean met eyes with Sam and they exchanged a look. The hope of an end to all the fighting, the chasing, the constant paranoia was almost too good to believe. Still, hope was one of the only things to cling onto these days. Without hope, Dean knew he wouldn't have lasted as long as he had so far. It's worth checking out, at least.
Sam grimaced and Dean nodded. They knew what they were going to do. Dean slapped his knees as he stood. "Well, Cass. I guess we'll be needing that address…and the closest place with a slice of pie."