Here's chapter 2! Thanks for those who followed, favorited, and reviewed before! Hope you enjoy, and drop me a review if you have the time. Suggestions are welcome :)
Castiel quickly found out that walking everywhere wasn't so fun. His vessels legs weren't accustomed to prolonged walking, for one thing. And he was still so hungry. His legs were... shaky. And weak. He was reminded of how much he hated being human.
Another pair of headlights passed, and he had an idea. Stopping on the side of the road, he extended a thumb upward and stuck out his arm. He had seen this in some movie that Dean had been watching in a motel room. Cas hadn't liked the movie. It had featured monsters like Sam and Dean hunted, but weirder looking than the real monsters. It was supposed to be scary, but he didn't find it very scary. Dean didn't really seem to, either, as he fell asleep halfway through.
Cas kept his thumb extended, pointing upwards. He wondered why this expression made cars stop. Dean had also said it meant good luck. He didn't really understand how it meant either of those things. It was a thumb. Humans were strange to assign so much meaning to a thumb.
A pair of headlights eventually slowed to a stop in front of him. They were attached to an eighteen wheeler. The cab door opened above him, and an overweight man leaned out.
"Come on around and hop in, brother." the man said with a smile. Castiel rounded the front of the tractor and climbed up, his legs still aching.
"How ya doin, man? Name's Bill Jackson." Bill was jolly looking, something like the American interpretation of the St. Nicholas myth. But Bill had dark hair, and a cap that was crammed down onto his head. He held out his hand expectantly. Castiel stuck out his own hand and allowed Bill to shake it.
"You got a name?" Bill asked, starting back down the road.
"My name is Castiel." Cas replied.
"That Russian or something?"
"It is Enochian." Cas answered, a bit put off by the questions.
"Enochian? You must be from some crazy country, pal. What's your last name?" Bill continued to question, oblivious to Cas's discomfort.
"Um, Winchester." he mumbled, not being able to think of a better answer.
"Castiel Winchester? Hell of a name. So, um, do you mind if I call you Cas?" Bill asked. Cas shook his head, gazing out the window. He definitely wouldn't be the first to
call him Cas.
"So, Cas,where ya headed?" Bill asked.
"Kansas." he replied.
"Kansas?!" Bill laughed, "You're a good ways away from Kansas. You're in Georgia, Dorothy. Out in the middle of nowhere, too. Don't know who dropped ya here, but they must've wanted to screw ya over."
"The one who 'dropped me here' has 'screwed over' not only myself, but all of my brethren as well. It is not a laughing matter!" Cas grumbled.
"Easy, guy, I wasn't trying to make light of the situation. Got anybody you can call?" Bill raised a hand in defense.
"I do, but I... I cannot remember the number." Cas looked down at his lap, embarrassed. Several hours ago, he had been able to recall every important number combination in existence. Now one ten number combination escaped him.
"It's all good, buddy. I'm sure you'll find a way to reach your people." Bill reassured. Cas nodded silently, then gazed back out the window.
The minutes crept by, and Bill eventually made a low, coughing sound in the back of his throat.
"So, Cas, whadya do?" he asked.
"Do?" Cas echoed.
"You know, what's your profession?" Bill's bushy eyebrow's shot up in expectation.
"I am an angel of the lord." Cas replied, matter-of-factly.
"Uh, is that like one of those secret cult things? You something like a Shriner? Or do you mean you ride in one of those gangs?" Bill asked.
"Ride what?" Cas deadpanned.
"Never mind." Bill mumbled.
"I was a soldier in the garrison. I was responsible for protecting many souls." Cas stated.
"Oh! You were a soldier! Now I get it. But angel? Do you mean you were part of the Air Force?" Bill continued his stream of questions.
"I could fly, so yes. We often used the air to our tactical advantage." he gave a quick smile, then turned again to stare out the window.
"Well then, it's an honor to have a former soldier riding with me. Glad I could help you out, seeing as how you been protecting this country for so long. You been keepin' us free and under God." Bill pumped Cas's hand again, this time with more excitement.
Cas smiled and shook back. He liked this human. He really seemed to understand his motivations. He began to think the long ride might not be so unbearable.
xXx
Crowley wasn't aware of having dozed off, but he was definitely aware once Dean Winchester started shaking him like a rag doll.
"Get up. I need your help." he ordered in his customary growl.
"Did you see to Sam? Is he alright?" Crowley queried.
"Dude, stop with the fake concern. You're creeping me out." Dean spat.
"My question was entirely legitimate. I am worried about Sam. As I said, I am in his debt." Crowley replied, trying to blink some of the weariness out of his eyes.
"Well, you wanna pay 'em back, start by not smoking out once I take these cuffs off." Dean looked at him expectantly.
"On my word." Crowley promised.
"Alright." Dean grunted. He really didn't want to take the chance, but he was left with few other options. He couldn't get Sam inside without some help. Well, without banging him around too much. And Kevin was definitely down for a few hours. Crowley was all he had left.
Dean undid the cuff attached to the table, but left the other around Crowley's wrist. Crowley looked a little hurt, but didn't say anything. Dean got the eeriest feeling, like he needed to apologize to Crowley for the over-precaution. He shuddered at the thought of apologizing to Crowley.
The two trudged out into the early light and opened up the back door of the impala closest to Sam's head. Dean scooped his brother out, wrapping one long arm over his shoulders. Crowley took the other, and Sam's head hung limp in the middle. They shuffled back to the door, his feet dragging in the dirt behind them. One of his shoes was untied, and came off as they climbed the stairs.
"I'll have to come back out and grab that after we get him in a bed. He'll be whining about losing his shoe again." Dean laughed.
"What?" Crowley asked.
"It's nothing." Dean answered, already sobering up. The heat coming off of Sam's skin was brutal, and he really didn't have time to be laughing at old jokes.
He and Crowley managed to get gigantor inside and in the bed in his room. Dean then dismissed Crowley, telling him to go do whatever the hell demons did in their downtime. Crowley mumbled something depressing about listing sins to repent of and shuffled out of the room. Dean silently wished for a more upbeat and snarky Crowley.
He removed Sam's one remaining shoe, then checked his temperature. It was 103, high, but not high enough for another ice bath, thankfully. He laid a blanket over him, taking the time to check to make sure it covered his feet. He had gone out and bought extra long sheets and blankets for Sam shortly after the second trial. He figured cold feet wouldn't help the whole sickness thing.
He found a washcloth from the clean laundry and wet it and stuck it across his forehead. Sam would have been a bit mortified, but he didn't really care. Lastly, Dean grabbed the other shoe from the stairs and brought it inside. He sat both shoes side by side inside the closet. Sam's room was plain, no decoration or clutter, and everything was extremely neat. He felt like the shoes would be noticed if they weren't put away properly.
"Alright, you keep on sleeping and breathing. I'm gonna go... hell, I don't know. Try to put some of this back together, I guess." Dean called into the room on his way out. There was a ball of raw panic building inside his chest, and it tried to make breathing hard for a second. But he told himself that he could still fix everything, that he always could. The panic subdued for the moment.
Crowley was already out again, slouched in a chair by the map table, when Dean got back to the main room. The lines under the demon's eyes were deep. He couldn't remember ever having seen a demon look so tired.
He grabbed Sam's laptop and took a seat across the table from the demon. He flipped the thing open and didn't wait for it to boot up entirely before bringing up the CNN homepage. It was only then that he remembered his phone had died sometime the night before. He glanced at the page before standing to find the charger. Mostly reports of strange shooting stars and the property damage they caused. No reports of people falling from the sky, at least. He'd probably have to check some the sketchier news agencies for that.
He plugged in his durable old flip phone and waited for it to come back to life. As soon as the little screen lit up, the phone started vibrating ceaselessly. Missed call after missed call after voicemail poured in, and he groaned. He flipped through the list, but before he could get far in, the phone started to ring. It was Charlie.
"Charlie? Hey, what's going on?" he answered, trying to make his voice sound light.
"I was calling to ask you the same thing. Dean, what was with that light show? The whole internet won't shut up about it." she asked. Dean heard the click of a keyboard over the phone.
"Oh, you know, more of the usual. Destruction, heaven itself falling out of the sky, nothing turning out right. Another Tuesday, you know." Dean tried to laugh, but it came out a bit hysterical.
"How bad are things?" Charlie's concern practically seeped out of the receiver.
"Um, pretty bad. We got double-crossed. Again. Cas might have been involved, or he might even be dead. I don't have any idea where he is, and I'm worried. But I don't know what to do. And Sam..." Dean paused.
"How is he?" Charlie asked, her voice soft and understanding. The last time she had seen Sam had been after the second trial.
"Bad." Dean admitted. "You saw how sick he was before. That last trial was gonna kill him. None of us knew and I was just gonna let 'em do it. I even left him there by himself. I stopped him in time, I thought, but things don't look good. I don't know how to help him." he felt the panic building up inside his throat again.
"Dean, I'm coming over. I'll pack and head out in about an hour. It'll take me awhile to get there, so promise me something, okay?" he could hear Charlie already up and packing in the background.
"What?" he asked.
"Promise that you'll stay there and look after your brother. And yourself. I know things are looking bad, but just worry about yourselves for a moment. We'll get this thing figured out." Charlie ordered, her voice kind.
"Y-yeah, we'll just hole up here for a while until there's something we can actually do. Thanks, Charlie." They both hung up, and Dean collapsed back into the chair, huffing. He went back to scanning the CNN website.
He was out before he could make it through three reports.
I'm excited about writing the next chapter. I wanna really crank up the action soon!