Chapter Two
Four and a half days later, Rufus finally turned into what appeared to be a car repair shop. The grounds were covered in rust buckets, but each car outside the enormous garage I could see overlooking the area seemed to be in healthy working condition.
"He makes an honest living, unlike some men I know." I nudged Rufus' arm, grinning.
He frowned. "I don't want my forgery skills to get rusty. He's nose to the books, all the damn time. Probably 'cause that's the only thing he's ever been better than me at. If I had the patience, I could beat him at that too, though." He sniffed defiantly and I laughed.
"Competitive, are we?"
"What? No. I taught this man everything he knows."
We parked among the repaired cars and walked up the wet dirt path up to the porch of the house.
Rufus began explaining the situation as we neared the house, seeing figures moving inside. "One of these buffoons came to me for some help a few months ago, just before he went to hell. His name is Dean Winchester, and his brother Sam is there as well. Never leaves his side, it's almost scary. Bobby owes me a favour, eventually."
I would've sworn he murmured 'A big one' before he knocked, and an older man appeared. He was obviously gruff, with facial hair caught between a beard and stubble. He wore a ball cap, flannel and worn jeans. From out the door I could already smell the inside of his house, which was a strange mixture of grease, whiskey, old spice, and something else I couldn't put my finger on. He looked between Rufus and I, most likely wondering who I was. Anyone who knew one of us and not the other was fairly certain we wouldn't have enjoyed each others acquaintance, never mind being in the line of work together. I never blamed them.
"Rufus, you made it. Who's this young lady?" His voice was rough and deep. I smiled.
"Sarah Casey, it's a pleasure to meet you." I greeted politely.
"Bobby Singer." He said in return. "Now, I've got to put you through some tests but-"
"C'mon, Bobby. We're both used to it, don't trouble yourself with an explanation." Rufus rolled his eyes, pushing past his friend into the house. I smiled apologetically.
Bobby shrugged. "Alright then. Right this way."
When we walked in the house, Rufus made himself right at home. Carefree bugger was going to get himself shot sooner than later. Bobby rolled his eyes. "Well, he's him. I'm still going to check you though... Sarah, right?"
I nodded wordlessly, offering my arm. He went through what had become customary to me. Pierce me with silver, trickle holy water on me, trickle salt onto my skin. When he let me go and I turned around, two other man had joined us in the living room area, standing before a large bookcase which I realized was the other scent I had caught outside; old documents and book bindings.
One of the men was very tall, with hair to the nape of his neck and sweeping back away from his face. He had intent hazel eyes that were obviously hiding an overbearing guilt. He had a longer face than the other, and was dressed in jeans, a clean flannel shirt, and a jacket over.
The other man, considerably shorter but not by too much, wore similar clothing. His hair was cropped short, and his features were much like his brother's, although his jaw was a bit more square. He looked at me appraisingly, a well-placed half-smile on his face. He seemed to be a hits-on-anything-that-walks-and-talks-with-a-rack type. I smiled sweetly back at him, seeing right through him, although I could see in his eyes as well that he was carrying a burden as well.
"Hello, I'm Sarah." I introduced myself.
"Sam." The tall one greeted, waving offhandedly, still watching me closely.
"Dean." The other man said, his older brother. I chuckled in my head, wondering how upset he must've been when his younger brother began to tower over him. After a moment though, my amusement faded and I watched him.
"Rufus, didn't you say-"
"That he was in hell? Yes. Obviously, he got out, and that's why Bobby wanted my help. Ain't that right, Bob?"
Bobby sneered. "Shut up, ya idiot. We actually have a dilemma here, demons could be knocking on my door any moment."
"No, the nearest demon is sixty miles out." My voice trailed off quietly at the end when Bobby, Sam, and Dean looked at me curiously.
Sam looked at Dean, who shrugged. Bobby didn't seem to find this very interesting. I wondered idly if he had met such people before and made a mental note to talk with him alone the first chance I got.
"Well, how the hell did he get out of the pit?" Rufus asked.
"We went by Pamela's place. Apparently its name is Castiel."
"Castiel." I repeated in surprise. Rufus looked back at me, not understanding my sudden interest. "I crossed something by the same name down in Georgia, inspecting a town that was wiped out."
Bobby scoffed. "Yeah? Well he burned out Pamela's eyes as well."
"But what do we make of this?" Sam spoke up. "What exactly is he?"
"A demon?" Dean suggested.
"That doesn't make sense, Dean." Bobby said bluntly. "There's no demon that strong. And why would a damn demon want to drag you out of hell?"
"e's right, Dean." Sam said. "But if not that, then what? Bobby, we've never encountered something like this before. Should we bother disturbing it, if it's what we think it is?"
"What do you think-" I interjected.
"Damn right we should." Dean growled, cutting me off. "We owe that to Pamela, and I want to confront this son of a bitch and demand answers. This is all a bit too shady for my liking."
"How exactly do you propose we do that?" Rufus sourly spoke up. "This thing burned out a woman's eyes. Good shot as you are, it won't matter if you're blinded or rendered useless in other extremities."
Dean was taken aback. "I don't know if that was a compliment or-"
"Well, if we really are inviting this thing in, I suggest we don't do so anywhere near this house." I offered.
Rufus nodded. "There was an empty warehouse an hour or so from here that we could prepare. What do you say, Bobby? Want me to help?" The cockiness in his voice made me stifle a laugh.
Bobby rolled his eyes. "Just go get to work, ya idjit. I have a location set up already for circumstances such as these. Write all the symbols you know for anything, and I'll research a summoning spell." Rufus was right. Bobby was a researcher at heart. But he didn't strike me as the stay at home type.
"Alright, give me an address and let's go." Rufus said, standing abruptly and after listening momentarily for the location walked out. With a smirk I followed behind him, hearing the Winchester brother's fall in line behind us.
Eventually we reached the personal garage, parallel to the old worn house behind us. I paused to inspect the machine before me, admiring its sleek curves and the way the rain slicked down its clean sides. It had an old, wise beauty, and I'd always had a soft spot for old cars. A small smile tugged at the corners of my mouth but I quickly concealed it, working diligently at hauling all the supplies needed into the trunk. Once the job was done and Sam'd closed the trunk, I let my fingers graze the cool frame, feeling her importance. I strolled past and walking up to the truck that Rufus preferred. "You stay safe, okay? I'm going to stay with Bobby and research a few more procedures, just to be safe. Catch up with you later."
"Okay, Sarah. Teach him a thing or two." He winked at me and I laughed lightly using large strides to breeze past and strut back to the house happily. The sun was beating down upon the auto shop, gleaming off the windshields of every car blindingly. It was warm enough that I could take off my jacket and wear only my baggy sweater over my tank. I opened the door and stepped in, slipping it over the back of a chair. Suddenly a knife pressed to my neck, so I raised my hands in surrender, "Hi."
Bobby let me go, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. With an amused grin I continued. "I'm good with books, I kinda think that's why Rufus kept me around at first. He didn't want to admit he needed your help with it." I nudge him softly with my elbow as I walk past, towards the book shelf. If he weren't so confused, I'm sure he would have smirked like an egotistical man.
"Yeah? Well, where do you want to start?"
"You look up symbols, I'll memorize incantations? My Latin is fairly adept but getting rusty, I'd like to hone my skills. I think I'll be able to find a protective spell and a barrier spell." I offered helpfully, picking my pile of papers out of my bag and sifting through the yellow, aged pages. I looked up at the gruff man in the doorway and giggled at how taken aback he still was, but he still came in and began working silently. After a few tense moments I continued. "Robert, I'm not going to bite. Or explode. Or murder your puppy. Whatever it is you are looking so constipated over."
"Don't call me Robert." He snapped. If I hadn't known Rufus for as long as I did, I might not have realized that was his form of acceptance. I got back to reading and so did he. Occasionally we swapped notes and penned down on a proper document anything we found incredibly useful.
My phone rang, though we both checked out pockets. I could feel the buzzing against my thigh. I pulled it out and quickly answered. "Allo?"
"Get your ass over here, ya bookworms. There's a monster to confront."
"Angel, Rufus." I corrected nonchalantly, standing and packing things into my backpack. Bobby understood what I was doing and prepared himself as well, then trudged outside to start the vehicle we'd be using.
"I know I am."
"Ugh." I laughed, wrinkling my nose as I stepped outside into the grounds. A car drove in front of me and I sat in the passenger seat, glancing at Bobby. "See you in forty." Yet, in our hurry, we arrived there in just over half an hour.
"We ready?" Dean asked, scanning the room for any gaps in our defenses. Bobby had drawn symbols and runes and readied a great deal of different weapons on a table not to far from our reach. He was satisfied and as usual Rufus was happily indifferent. I was confident, my hand appearing to just be resting on my hip to those who didn't know that was where I kept my knife concealed in its sheath.
"Where's Sam?" I asked quietly.
Bobby sighed and looked at Dean. "We had no choice but to lie to him. We didn't tell him we intended on summoning the thing tonight, so he drove himself to some burger joint."
I nodded absently.
Rufus huffed in satisfaction. "Sorry to cut short, but I'm outta here. Don't want any feathery bitches of God on my ass." And he left without another word. I was used to it, and by the way the Dean looked at Bobby in confusion as he merely pressed them into getting the damn ritual done already, the idiots, I suspected he was as well.
"I think I'll be safest in here." I utter as both men look at me. I blushed slightly but turned forward so they wouldn't see.
"I'm staying." Bobby stated. There was no contradicting him.
Silently, Bobby and Dean exchanged a glance, then Bobby looked down at me and uttered gruffly, "Don't you want to be armed?"
"I am." Was my response, sliding my dagger so that they heard the soft, beautiful shimmer of the blade retracting from its resting place. Dean raised an eyebrow, and Bobby kept a surprised look from crossing his face. I was tempted to say 'Yeah, that's right. Not just a girl.'
"Alright, let's do this."
The spell was fairly simple, but the tension in the room gave very little room for error. When a small glimmer of fire rose from the ingredients, a large gust swept through the room and the hair framing my face wiped back.
Silence consumed the room for an immeasurable amount of time. We all stayed taut like the string of a bow, waiting without breaking the quiet.
"Are you sure you did the summoning correctly?"
Suddenly the tiles covering the roof of the barn rose and fell in a sudden non existent gust of wind.
Dean spoke up again, trying to ease the situation slightly. "Wishful thinking but maybe it's just the wind?"
Immediately after his words they were proven wrong as lights shattered, and the same ear-splitting piercing siren of sound broke through the silence but faded soon after. Bobby was the first to see the man stepping forward through the shards of glass, his eyes intent and his walk that dedicated to hunt, or to perform an important duty. Unsure of either, both men opened fire before they quickly realized the bullets did not affect the creature stalking towards us. Dean's instincts had him reaching back for a blade with familiar runes and a spiked edge that I recognized to be a demonic injury curse.
"Who are you?" Dean demanded with clenched teeth, nervous from the man's lack of injury.
The man who had appeared before us was a few inches shorter than Dean and one of so taller than Bobby, but I couldn't specify his heights as his aura far outstretched his humanly born body. He was overwhelming huge, and I wondered how the other men could even look at him so defiantly. He had cerulean blue eyes, appearing almost dark gray in the unlit barn, and had short messy hair of an impressive black shade. Perhaps the most interesting sight upon his appearance, however, was the tan trench coat he chose to wear above a simple business outfit, with the tie done up all wrong. When he spoke his tone was surprisingly gruff given the appearance of his form, yet incredibly monotone. "I am the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition."
Dean shrugged as though he expected as much and was exasperated from such a simplistic form of an answer. "Yeah, thanks for that." The man was midway between a courteous nod when Dean chose to sink the demon blade into the being's shoulder, who looked down at it dismissively then pulled it out without delay and distress. The metallic vibrating ring of the blade bouncing off the ground broke another long silence. I didn't bother taking my dagger out anymore, knowing it would be useless, but Bobby tried to strike the man with the blunt end of his shotgun when he had his back turned. With ease, the offender grabbed the metal hurling towards him and placed two fingers against his forehead, lying the man on the ground. Panic and anger filled Dean's eyes.
"He's only sleeping." The man insisted, "I need to talk to you two. Alone."
The older Winchester kneeled in front of his comrade, checking for a pulse and noticing his soft, deep breathing. "He is not harmed." The man insisted again, though his tone showed no care for Dean's dismay. I sat silently, fingers twitching to the hilt of my blade as a sense of comfort.
"Who are you?" I demanded.
"Castiel." He answered simply. Surprise invaded my mind, but I kept it carefully hidden.
"Yeah, I figured that much." Dean deadpanned sarcastically, glaring the intruder down. "What are you?"
"I am an angel of the Lord." Castiel stated simply, without blinking. As if it was the most simple matter in the world to understand and accept. I scoffed slightly, as did Dean.
"Get the hell out of here. There's no such thing."
"That is your problem, Dean. You have no faith." A moment of silence followed, as we waited for clarification, and sudden lightning bolts lit up the room, making the both of us jump and tense. Behind the angel man before us, shown through the light as a shadow, two wide long wings stretched and curled up majestically, flaunting their elegance and existence.
"There's your proof." I muttered, and Dean's eyes flickered towards me as he threw me another exasperated glare.
"Well, some angel you are. You burned out that woman's eyes."
"I warned her not to spy on my true form. It can be...overwhelming, to humans. As can my true voice."
I nodded in exaggeration, finding it in me to laugh a bit, though weakly.
"Wait. The gas station, that was you talking?" His question was answered with a subtle nod. "Buddy, next time, lower the volume."
"That was my mistake. Certain people, special people, can perceive my true visage. I thought you'd be one of them. From out previous encounter I know that young woman is one of those people."
Dean looked at me curiously, as though looking at me to see how I was so different from other people, and I crossed my arms defensively.
"What 'visage' are you in now? Holy Tax Accountant?" Even in this sort of situation, the man had the nerve to crack jokes? Points to him.
"This? This is a vessel." Castiel said simply.
"You're possessing some poor bastard?!"
Castiel looked like he had the urge to roll his eyes. "He was a devout man. He actually prayed for this."
Dean ran a hand over his face, grumbling to himself for a moment before asking audibly. "This is crazy. Why would an angel rescue me from hell?!"
"Good things do happen, Dean." Castiel reassured, looking distraught at Dean's disbelief.
Dean turned on those words, face set in anger and his movements jerky with frustration. "Not in my experience."
Castiel's voice almost seemed to soften as he spoke again, and I looked at Dean with curiosity as well, mine and the angel's thoughts seeming to be aligned for a moment. "What's the matter? You don't think you deserved to be saved." The way the angel said it made it more of a statement than a wonder, accompanied by a slight narrowing of his impressive heavenly blue eyes and an equally as subtle tilt of the head.
Dean Winchester avoided confirming the angel's suspicion altogether and instead asked in a stone cold and hardened voice again, "Why'd you do it?"
Castiel moved uncomfortably closer to the man, certainly lacking the respect of human traditions and avoiding Dean's breathing space and muttered, "Because God commanded it." Suddenly his eyes met mine again, and I looked back at him evenly, "Because we have work for you."
Without another word, the angel had disappeared from before us. I assumed he must have flown, but I wasn't sure. Bobby's awareness returned and he stirred on the ground, giving a faint snort, breaking off his loud snoring. Dean grinned down at him, offering his hand to help the old man off the floor. While Dean relayed everything that happened I figured myself forgotten and left the barn to go see Rufus outside.
I found him sitting securely in his rusty pick up, gripping the steering wheel and looking out over the grounds seriously, inspecting for any suspicious activity outside the building. When his eyes lifted from their scrutinizing glare into the tall gold grass, he rolled down his window and I stood on my tiptoes to rest my forearms on the frame.
"Anything?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Well I didn't need proof angels existed- I already knew I was one." I winked. "But yes. We just met Castiel, an Angel of the Lord, who claims God has important work for us all."
"Did he say what?" Rufus asked, intrigued enough to let my comment slip by.
I shook my head. "He said he would keep us informed. Where are we going to go now? Are we staying for a while?"
"Well, I've got a case I was raced up here in the middle of. What about you? You coming?"
I chewed at my lower lip. "...Naw. I'll keep an eye out around here. I'll follow some demons tracks, keep you updated. If you could do me a huge favor?"
My mentor and father figure rolled his eyes, though I could detect the playfulness. "What is it now?"
"Can you pretty please pick up my bike from the parking lot at the hotel?"
"Sarah!" He cried in exasperation. I giggled slightly.
"It would mean the world~"
Shaking his head and looking away, Rue sighed. "Fine. There and back, I'll be here tomorrow with it."
"Thank you!" I cried and reached up to throw my arms around him. He laughed and patted my back from his awkward position higher than me in the cab of the truck. I pulled back. "Keep in touch, okay? And don't die."
"It ain't my time, princess." He assured me, starting up the truck. Footsteps started up behind me, crunching against the concrete.
"I take it you're headed out now." Bobby said gruffly, looking between Rufus and I.
Rufus scoffed."Well of course I am, ya idiot. When have I ever stayed away from home for long?" I smiled fondly as he spoke of the broken down house we called home, thinking of my cot in the basement and the safety of all of my few possessions surrounding me. The smile began to slip into the beginning tugs of a frown, and I looked down and away. "But she's staying."
"Is she now?" Bobby said curiously.
I looked up quickly. "Not at your place, I was just going to get a hotel room, and then I'll be out of town tomorrow."
Bobby glared at me, and I was slightly taken aback. "Don't be an idjit, I've got plenty of rooms. I think we can make room for a night."
My lips parted to object, while in my mind I was already thinking of a way I could make it up to them. "...Okay. Thank you, very much."My mind flashed to the Winchester brothers as I thought about what they might think, but when I looked over Dean was only staring down Rufus. I took that as acceptance, but felt uncomfortable about the uneasiness between them.
"Dean? You're driving the girl."
"What?" Dean asked, startled.
"Oh, no, don't worry about it!" I interrupted quickly, smiling widely to mask my panic. "I don't want to bother him-"
Bobby smirked. "Oh, it's no bother. Right, boy?" He patted Dean's arm as he walked back to his truck, and I stayed there in confusion.
"Um, seriously, I really don't want to be any trouble. I can always just go with Rufus." I explained, fiddling with the charms of my necklace.
Dean smiled charmingly at me. "Seriously," He teased me, copying my words, "It was just unexpected. Let's go."
"Alright." I amended. "Bye, Rufus."
"See ya 'round, Sare." Without another word, he pulled out of the lot and sped off into the night. I watched the tail lights disappear with a sinking sense of loneliness, but sighed it off and treaded off towards the Impala.
I opened the door and slid into the passenger seat, Dean following closely. I sat properly, my hands clasped together on my legs, and I looked around the inside of the car in wonder. It smelled different, but basically stated it just smelled like soldiers in this war we lived in. There was a faint salty scent of blood beneath the more overwhelming smell of gunpowder and leather, but it was nice. The rest of the interior was clean and well taken care of, and the engine purring to life made me smile to myself. I didn't recognize the end of the song that had been playing.
"Your car is beautiful." I commented, reaching into my bag and taking out my coat, shrugging it on.
"Isn't she?"
I shook my head, chuckling, and pulled the sleeves of my sweater over my hands, the cuff of my fitted jacket still sitting against my wrist.
I always loved driving in the night. Hearing the breeze whip passed the car blindingly, the trees reaching skyward with their long bony fingers, barely grazing the edge of the stars piercing the navy night sky. Ahead of the moon, you could see the dark gray clouds float past in their dream like trance, undisturbed for a few hours without being pierced through by the golden rays of dawn. Instead, you could just let your mind wander while gazing forward into what little you could see in the dull glow of your headlights. In my experience, it's one of the most comforting feelings in the world, but perhaps that was opinion formed by my always being moved around. Normal people might feel uneasy being swallowed by the safety of the night's shadows.
I relaxed as I thought about this all, leaning against my window. Faintly I regarded the change of the song on the radio, and realized I knew the song. "Hey..." I commented, listening to the beginning of the song.
The older Winchester brother looked over at me in question, but I just kept looking forward and softly murmured along to the song,
"On a long and lonesome highway,
East of Omaha,
You can hear the engine moaning out
it's one note song.
You can think about the woman,
or the girl you knew the night before.
But your thoughts will soon be wander,
The way they always do,
When you're driving sixteen hours,
and there's nothing much to do.
And you don't feel much like riding,
you just wish the trip was through.
Here I am,
On the road again.
There I am,
Up on the stage.
There I go,
Playing the star again.
There I go,
Turn the page."
"You know Metallica?" Dean said in disbelief. I shot him a look, then winked subtly.
"So you walk into this restaurant,
All strung out from the road
And you feel the eyes upon you,
As you're shaking off the cold.
You pretend it doesn't bother you,
But you just want to explode.
Yeah, most times you can't hear them talk,
But other times you can.
The same old damn cliché's,
'Is it woman, is it man?'
And you always seem outnumbered,
You don't dare make a stand.
Make your stand!
Here I am,
On the road again.
Here I am,
On the stage.
There I go,
Playing the star again.
There I go,
Turn the page."
"My Dad used to listen to Metallica a lot when I was a kid, my lullaby to go to sleep was basically Enter Sandman."
Dean scoffs. "Enter Sandman? Wouldn't that have scared the crap out of a kid?"
"Maybe." I agreed. "But not with how I was raised."
"Were you raised in the life?"
I nodded. "Unintentionally. I can see spirits, even when they are hiding themselves. And you know, when you're casually staring at someone who thinks they aren't there they tend to stick by you. I've been haunted since the first day of my life and probably will be haunted until my last."
With a nod and a pursing of his lips he showed his understanding. I nodded, "As I got older, the talent got stronger. I started to see people possessed by demons, seeing them for what they really were."
"So that's what you meant earlier, when you could tell how close or far the nearest demons were." He realized.
"Yes." I answered.
"And what about your parents? How old are you, anyways?"
I sighed and looked out the window again. "I'm twenty-five. My parents aren't around anymore." My voice rang with finality, effectively ending the conversation as we pulled into Singer's Salvage Yard. Bobby waited for us outside, leaning against his truck, and I smiled and nodded politely at him.
"We're here." Dean stated simply, throwing me a grin as he got out of the car. I followed suit.
"Yes, it would seem so."
"Alright then, let's get you set up." Bobby said as we approached, turning immediately for me to follow. He gave me a room upstairs with a small bed against the farthest wall, underneath a window. There was a small table next to the bed, with lamp on top and room under the drawer for my backpack to rest. It was small but comfy, and far better than the motels I was used to. I thanked him fervently, and he left me alone for a while to set myself up. I set my backpack down, put my coat and sweater on the dresser top, and placed my Ipod on top of the dresser, plugging it into the same socket that powered the lamp. It blinked to life, and I scrolled through to my favorite play list, playing it without volume to prepare myself for later. I plugged my phone into a socket hidden next to the bed, placing it on the window sill to rest for the night. As well, I took my notepad out with a pen atop it, ready to write as soon as I awoke from my troubling dreams.
Finally, I unattached my dagger from its resting spot on my hip, always hidden beneath my jacket. I placed it underneath my pillow in case of emergency.
Without another word I closed the door to my room, turned off the lamp and laid down under the blankets, reaching out to turn the volume of my music to a quiet hum in the background to tune out the ever-present knowledge of the demons not nearly close, but nearby enough to cause me distress and fear. I drifted into a deep slumber listening to L490 by 30 seconds to mars.
AN: *All songs belong to their respective owners*