CHAPTER TWO: Mystery
I need help.
Castiel's handsome face held an intrigued expression. Those three words, echoing through his mind as clear as a bell. And for once, it wasn't Sam or Dean calling to him. When was the last time the angel had heard a prayer as elementary as this? In the three small words that had resonated through his head, he could already sense the pure, almost childlike innocence of the source.
Looking around and thinking things over briefly, Castiel decided that there wasn't a reason to ignore the simple plea for help. He was currently in his favorite place – the heaven of an autistic man who'd drowned in a bathtub – standing numbly. Bored. Heaven was in order, the angels looking to Castiel as some sort of hero after the whole fiasco with the apocalypse. Sam had been saved from Hell, him and Dean now road-tripping across the country and hunting like they used to. No conflicts could be found anywhere, and while Castiel was grateful for that, he couldn't deny that he was unsure how to handle the peace.
Excited by the sudden curiosity this prayer had brought, Castiel stretched his wings and left Heaven in a flash. He landed on Earth, eyes scanning the area around him swiftly. The first thing he observed was that it was nighttime. A few trees were sparsely scattered about. The edge of a forest. A gentle breeze caused the angel's trench coat to flap behind him gracefully. Rain was pouring, though as the angel looked up he could see a space in the heavy clouds where several stars twinkled. Feeling water already soaking his hair and the shoulders of his coat, Castiel looked back down and frowned. Whoever had said the prayer seemed to be missing.
Just as he was wondering if he'd come to the wrong place, he noticed something white in the corner of his eye. Turning, the angel tilted his head to the side in wonder.
A young woman was sprawled out on her back in the mud. Her sickeningly pale skin practically glowed in the darkness, blending in with the thin white gown that wetly stuck to her body. As Castiel drew nearer, he could see that the gown seemed to come from a hospital of sorts. His brow furrowed. There couldn't possibly be a hospital around here, they were in the middle of nowhere.
She was so still, for a moment he wondered if she was dead. Kneeling on the ground next to her, the angel brushed a long strand of hair from her face and placed his palm over her forehead. He closed his eyes and gently prodded her mind, immediately sensing with relief that she was alive.
As he delved further, he could feel flashes of fear and dread. The sounds of screams echoed faintly, brief moments of blinding light filling her memories. Castiel's heart began to grow heavy. Whatever this girl had gone through, it had certainly been nothing good. The longer he sifted through her mind, the more concerned the angel became. It was still unclear what she'd gone through, but it'd definitely been severe. There was so much pain – both mentally and physically. Her fear was almost tangible, a loathsome feeling of helplessness coating her every thought.
Castiel caught sight of something and felt a jolt. Black eyes. Demons.
He reached for the image in an effort to understand clearer, but before he could he felt a pinch in his own mind. Something was warning him not to continue. The small resistance only piqued Castiel's curiosity and he tried to grasp the memory again. The moment he did so, his mind was assaulted with pain. As he winced in surprise, the memory vanished before him and he quickly felt himself being shoved out of the girl's subconscious. In a flash, the pain disappeared and Castiel found that he'd been completely locked out of her head.
Slowly pulling his hand from her clammy forehead, Castiel blinked down at the unconscious girl in shock. No normal human should be able to do that. Her pale face laid still before him, so innocent and helpless that it was almost mocking. What are you? Castiel wondered.
A particularly strong gust of wind hit him and he suddenly remembered why he was here. The girl had called for help – and help her he would.
She was icy cold, and soaking wet. Instinctively, Castiel moved to touch two fingers to her temple, but he remembered how her subconscious had reacted last time. Perhaps it would be best to avoid using angelic means for now, he decided. Pulling his hand back, he pulled his cell phone out of his front coat pocket and called the number on his speed dial.
Two rings, and then, "Whatup, Cas?"
"Dean, where are you?" Castiel cut to the chase.
"Uh… why?" The elder Winchester brother questioned suspiciously.
Castiel rolled his eyes at his friend's ever constant mistrust. "I have an unconscious girl and I don't know what to do with her. Tell me where you are."
Dean could be heard snickering to himself. "Whoa there, Cas, you drinking with the ladies? It's normal for a girl to pass out drunk, you know."
"Dean." The angel grit his teeth in frustration. This girl needed help as soon as possible.
"Okay, okay, chill," Dean relented. "Portland, Oregon, OceanStar Motel, room 113."
With a sigh, Castiel hung up and stuck the phone back in his pocket. As gingerly as possible, he slid one arm under the girl's shoulders and the other under her knees. She was frighteningly light, he observed as he lifted her out of the mud and stood. With the sound of flapping wings, the angel vanished with her cradled against his chest.
They appeared a moment later in a rundown motel room. It was the usual setup, two twin beds against the wall, a small kitchen area, and a bathroom in the corner. Castiel glanced around the small room. "Dean?"
"This better be good, Cas, there's a really nifty bar down the street –" Dean came out of the bathroom, running a hand through his freshly spiked up hair. He came to a stop at the sight of his soaking wet friend, an equally soaking wet and mud-covered girl in his arms. "Explain?"
"Not sure I can," the angel told him honestly, approaching a twin bed and gently setting her down on it. Now that he could see her in the light, she looked much worse. The dark mud stains contrasted with her pasty white skin. Her face was sunken and heavily shadowed, lips so pale they were almost invisible. The wet hospital gown clung to her small frame. She looked so fragile.
"What happened to her?" Dean questioned, coming closer and reaching out to feel her pulse.
"I don't know."
"Is she okay?"
"I don't know."
Dean looked up from the girl to Castiel, irritation clear on his face. "Well, what do you know?"
The angel shrugged helplessly. "I heard a prayer for help and I found her like this."
"Okay. Great." Dean was watching him, nodding slowly. "You couldn't just heal her with your angel mojo?"
"Her subconscious resisted me when I tried," Castiel responded. "Something about her is… different… not human."
"Which is why you skipped the hospital and brought her to here," Dean finished, finally understanding the situation a little bit better.
"She's very cold," Castiel said quietly, his blue eyes silently asking Dean for help. Unable to help with his angelic powers, he wasn't sure what to do.
Dean took in the sight and gave his friend an encouraging nod. After everything Castiel had done for him and his brother, there was no question that he'd help when the angel needed it. That, and he was rather curious about the girl himself.
"Right," Dean muttered to himself. "Let's get this thing off…" He moved to unbutton her hospital gown, when pushed his hand back.
"What are you doing?" The angel frowned. "I don't think that's the most appropriate –"
"Relax, featherbutt, best way to get her warm is to get rid of wet clothes. We'll put something dry on her, obviously." Dean rolled his eyes. "Sheesh…"
Dean removed the hospital gown, making sure not to look, and quickly covered her in a pair of his sweats and a T-shirt, along with socks for her feet. Castiel had taken the blankets from the other bed and draped them over her as soon as she was clothed. As Dean went to fill up some water bottles with hot water, he looked over his shoulder to see Castiel gently tucking the layers of blankets closer around the girl's form.What a softy.
As Dean turned the tap on and waited for the water to get hot, the front door opened and Sam came in. Just as Dean had earlier, Sam came to halt at the sight of the sopping wet, unconscious girl. "Uh, hey, Cas," he frowned. "What…"
Castiel quickly explained everything to Sam while Dean finished up with the hot water bottles. The elder brother brought three bottles over to the bed and placed them around the girl's feet and torso.
"So, we're just gonna wait for her to wake up?"
"Um… yes?" Dean shrugged.
Sam looked between him, Castiel, and the unconscious girl on the bed. "But shouldn't we…"
"We don't know what happened or what this girl is, Sammy, there's not much we can do," Dean told his little brother.
Sam's knee-jerk reaction was to protest, but as he opened his mouth, he realized he didn't have any better suggestions. With Dean and Castiel looking at him expectantly, the younger Winchester sighed. "Okay. Yeah. Let's just see if she wakes up."
With a nod, Dean turned on his heel and pulled three beers out of the mini freezer. Tossing one to Sam and Castiel, he popped the top of his own off. "Great. Drink up. We might be waiting for a while."
Dean was right. It was a long night, needless to say. Sam buried himself in research on his laptop, searching for reasons as to why the girl was in the state she was in. Dean sat on the empty twin bed and watched TV for a while, drinking his beer happily and laughing every once and a while at something on the screen. Castiel sat on end of the bed next to the girl's feet, watching the television screen but not taking any of it in. He was growing impatient with every hour – waiting was not the angel's forte.
He couldn't keep himself from glancing at her every few minutes, wishing she would move. The faint rise and fall of her chest was the only sign that she was even alive. Castiel was half tempted to try and read her mind again, but the repercussions from his last attempt kept him at bay. It was infuriating – like having a pile of puzzle pieces before him, waiting to be put together, only he wasn't allowed to touch them.
Whoever… or whatever this girl was, she'd been the most interesting thing to show up in a while, and Castiel was determined to solve her mystery.
….
In a blur of white hot light, Katherine could sense nothing but the sound of the doctors about her screaming in pain. Pain exploded in her chest and she opened her mouth to cry out, but nothing came. It was as if the air had been knocked from her lungs. Nothing was making sense. The ground disappeared below her, she was blindly in limbo. It was happening so fast that Katherine couldn't begin to figure out what was happening to her.
Katherine's stomach tightened as it would if she were falling. With a loud gasp, she jolted awake, her eyes shooting open in alarm as she sat up quickly. Her head spun with the action, black spots that seemed to always be there blinking in her vision. She was shivering, cold sweat coating her skin.
A hand landed on her shoulder. "Hey –"
With a yelp, Katherine batted the hand away from her clawed at the presence next to her blindly.
"Whoa, whoa, easy!" More hands were on her to restrain her, and this only made Katherine struggle more.
"Let me go! Let me go now!" she shouted viciously, flailing and kicking and scratching with everything she had.
"Okay, okay! Calm down!" a male voice answered. "Dean, back off." Within moments, the hands were all gone and the unknown men were several feet away, hands up in a show of harmlessness. "We're not gonna hurt you, see? You're safe now."
Safe. The word landed in Katherine's chest mercifully. For the first time, she blinked and took in her surroundings. The walls weren't white. Katherine stared at the old blue wallpaper in awe. Her jaw dropped at the sight of a real window, with warm sunlight streaming through a slit in the curtains. Then she noticed that she was in a bed. An actual bed, covered in fluffy blankets, the mattress below her soft and warm. There were socks on her feet – they felt foreign. Katherine glanced down at herself to see she was drowning in a dark green T-shirt and black sweats. With wide eyes, she glanced back up at the two men watching her.
The one who had been speaking when she woke up was tall with a mop of brown hair on his head. The other was shorter with lighter hair, spiked up. Both were well built and strong looking. Katherine immediately eyed them with distrust. "What happened?" she croaked.
"We were hoping you could tell us," the shorter man said calmly, lowering his raised hands. The taller followed suit, a kind look in his eyes.
Katherine glanced between the two of them with parted lips. All she remembered was trying to escape… and the burning white light that surrounded her, the doctors' screams, seeing stars… "There was rain." The two men waited patiently as Katherine continued to think out loud. "It was raining, which means I was outside, but I don't know how… They were putting me to sleep, and then they were screaming, and there was light… We were indoors with the white halls, there couldn't have been rain… or stars…"
"Who was putting you to sleep?" A deep voice sounded behind her. Katherine immediately jumped and whirled around to find a third man standing in the corner next to the bed. With a defensive snarl, she stumbled out of the bed and took a few steps backwards, tripping the whole way as she struggled to balance herself.
"It's okay, okay, he's a friend, he won't hurt you," the taller man assured her.
Katherine landed on the other twin bed next to the one she'd been on and watched all three men warily. "Who are you?"
"I'm Sam, this is my brother Dean," the two men introduced themselves.
Dean nodded to the third man, "And that creep over there is Castiel."
"Last night, you prayed for help," Castiel said, stepping forward to sit on the twin bed opposite of her. "Help came."
Katherine was entranced by the sky blue eyes that seemed to stare into her very soul. Something about them felt… otherworldly. Beyond their deep blue hues, there was a beautiful light shining from them. Something pure and stunning resided in this man before her, and Katherine couldn't shake the feeling that she'd seen it before.
"What's your name?" Dean's voice cut into her thoughts and Katherine tore her eyes away from Castiel's.
The question threw her off. She wasn't used to people having interest in her name. For so long, she'd been called nothing but 'Katie-Angel' even though she'd made it clear she hated it. Swallowing, the syllables felt strange on her tongue as she answered. "Katherine. Katherine Celeste Welles."
"How do you feel?"
Another strange question to hear. Normally it was 'on a scale of one to ten…' followed by something being jotted down on a clipboard and ignored. Running a shaky hand over her face, Katherine took a moment to figure out how she felt. Mentally, numb, a bit confused. Physically, a little achy and light headed, but not bad. "I'm okay, I think."
"How are you associated with demons?" Castiel asked seriously.
Dean snorted, "Well, don't beat around the bush, Cas."
Katherine frowned. "Demons? What do you mean?"
"You saw men with black eyes, correct?" Castiel pressed, referring to the small glimpse of her memories that he'd seen.
Katherine bit the inside of her cheek and nodded timidly. "Doctors. That's what they dressed like – they never told me who they were."
"I think you mean what," Dean corrected. When Katherine looked up at him questioningly, he gave her a sad smile. "Sorry, Katherine, your world's about to get a little bit bigger."