A/N: Happy 2011 to everyone! I know I've left you without an update for the past weeks, but I assume everyone was busy enough with the holiday events not to miss my story!

It's a longer chapter, hope you'll be satisfied! Beta-read by InsideYourDreams24. Enjoy!


Chapter 4: Chased


Castiel is not sleeping; he has never slept in his life. In fact, he doesn't even know how to. Though he would probably be able to do it if he wanted to, just like eating, but he has no idea how to try, apart from lying still and breathing smoothly. He closes his eyes but he is still aware of his surroundings; the sounds in the room, Sam's quiet breathing on the other bed, the murmuring of the TV and sometimes the swallowing sound indicating that Dean has taken another sip of his beer.

And the silent talking. He can feel demons in the distance; he can feel Lucifer's rage over the loss of Cerberus. But they're far from here, thousands of miles away and therefore mean no threat to the three of them at the moment. Castiel can truly relax at this thought.

Hours pass. Slight snoring is coming from Dean who has long fallen asleep in front of the TV that is still on, broadcasting some late night music videos. Sam moans softly in his sleep; he's probably dreaming but the moan doesn't betray anything about whether the dream is a good or a bad one.

The angel has lost track of time. He simply doesn't know where it has disappeared; the next thing he's aware is the morning light seeping into the room between the curtains. Sam appears to be waking up; he turns to his back and yawns, his gaze falling to the other bed where Castiel lies in the same position he was laid down and their eyes meet. Apart from Dean's peaceful snoring everything is silent and the silence feels odd to Castiel, as if he was supposed to say something but didn't know what. Sam, however, foregoes him.

"Morning," he yawns again and sits up.

"Morning," the angel repeats, assuming it is the right thing to do, although he doesn't really understand why it is needed to confirm morning when it's seemingly obvious.

Mimicking the younger Winchester Castiel also tries to sit up, but it proves to be a lot harder task than expected. His limbs have gone numb and he has forgotten about his broken wrist but remembers it right away as he tries to push himself up with the right hand and the burning pain catches him off guard.

"Hey, hey," Sam gets out of his bed quickly to help him. "Easy. Are you still in pain?"

"Yes," Castiel admits, panting. "But it wasn't so bad when I was not moving."

"Yeah, then you should lie right back down," Sam suggests. "I can bring you something if you're hungry…"

The angel shakes his head. "I don't want to lie back. I grew kind of stiff during the night. It's highly uncomfortable. And I'm not hungry either."

"Fine," Sam nods. "Then sit here and try to avoid moving around too much. But you need to drink water, to compensate the blood loss. It isn't doing any good if your body is running low on liquid."

Castiel nods obediently. As long as he's not able to restore the health of the vessel himself, he has no choice but to trust the Winchesters' knowledge of human healing methods.

A particularly large snore coming from the armchair indicates that Dean is also waking up.

"Morning," Castiel shows his newly learned manner.

The older hunter peeks over the back of the chair. His face is extremely sleepy and his eyes are slightly bloodshot.

"Wow Cas, are you all right?" He asks in a deep, raspy morning voice. "Cause I think I just heard you being polite."

Castiel cocks his head to the side and looks at him with a questioning gaze.

"Okay man, I didn't say a thing," Dean yawns and gets up, heading for the bathroom. Sam is back with the glass of water, which Castiel takes a little hesitantly but then downing the whole in two gulps.

"That felt good," he admits.

"Wow Cas, you must have been thirsty, why didn't you say something?" Sam shakes his head in disbelief as he takes the empty glass from the angel.

"I didn't realize," he answers simply.

Sam grins and stands up to head back to the kitchen, but the sudden change of Castiel's expression makes him stop.

"What's wrong?"

The angel looks up at him with a slight delay, "Demons. I can feel demons coming here."

"What?"

"They appear to know where we are." For a moment Sam thinks he can see a spark of fear in Castiel's blue eyes and hear a hint of panic in his voice.

"But… how?"

The angel looks down at his bandaged wrist, looking somewhat guilty. "They have hellhounds with them. They must have… smelled my tainted blood."

"Dammit!" Sam swears. "How many of them?"

"A lot. More than yesterday."

"What do we do? Can we fight them?"

"Not this time," the angel shakes his head. "There are at least thirty of them, hellhounds as well, and I doubt I could be much help in my state. We have to leave. Now."

"Okay," Sam turns on his heel. "Dean!" He yells through the bathroom door.

"Wait for your turn, Sammy," Dean yells back from under the shower. "You're a big boy; you have to learn to be patient."

"Dean, demons are coming," Sam informs him and his words take effect right away. The water is stopped and a couple of seconds later a half clothed and very wet Dean tears open the door.

"What? Demons?"

His brother nods towards Castiel with his head. "He said he can feel them coming. Their hellhounds have smelled Cas' blood."

"Sonuvabitch," Dean mutters, pulling up a shirt and his jacket. "Where's my gun?"

Castiel has managed to stand up by now and is balancing on one functioning leg. "You can't fight them, Dean, neither can I. There are too many of them. We need to leave as soon as w can."

He can barely finish the sentence when a loud bang is heard and the door opens only to reveal a brown-haired, all too familiar young woman smiling from ear to ear.

"Hello, boys," she almost shouts with a sinister tone. She's not alone; behind her a crowd of black-eyed people have already started gathering.

"Meg!" Dean fakes a grin too, "We didn't expect to see you this soon."

"Oh, you can always count on me visiting my old friends," she laughs. Beside her, a threatening growling is heard from seemingly empty air.

"We're not your friends." Hellhounds or not, Dean feels anger and hate slowly build up in him. "I owe you one for Jo and Ellen, you know that, right?"

Meg laughs again, but her voice is threatening when she speaks. "Oh no no no. In fact, I owe himfor what he did to me." With that, she points at Castiel.

"What?" The brothers look at each other, confused.

"Never mind, it's none of your business," the demon shrugs, then addresses her words to the angel, "But you… you certainly know what I'm talking about, don't you? And I see you haven't told the boys here how good a so-called celestial can be at humiliating a woman."

"You're not a woman," Castiel tells her firmly and takes a subtle step towards the Winchesters, barely avoiding collapsing as his injured leg buckles. "You're a creature of Hell, child of the devil possessing the body of a woman."

The limp has caught Meg's attention though. "What do I have to see? You hurt?" When she gets no answer, she giggles and goes on. "Oh, I remember now, I heard rumors about some naughty dog biting your wings off," she teases in a faked anxious voice. "What a naughty, naughty dog. My poor Castiel. Looks like someone already made justice for me, don't you think?"

"Enough, bitch," Dean interrupts suddenly, growing tired of the demon's taunting. "I'll tell you what. You get out of here now while we're in a good mood."

"Whoo, bad boy Dean, I'm scared!" Meg laughs. "Okay, you know how I like chatting, but I'm starting to get bored too. I promise we'll be quick."

She nods with her head and the crowd behind her moves in, filling the small room immediately and closing in on the trio in no time. Dean lifts his fists, preparing to fight but just as the first demon could reach him, Castiel suddenly appears in front of him and the last thing the hunter sees is the outstretched index and middle finger of the angel touching his forehead.

It lasts even less than usually. A quarter of a second maybe, and Dean is thrown roughly down against concrete. Last time it was definitely smoother,he thinks as he lands on his hands and knees. Beside him, Sam moans from falling to the ground as well.

"What the hell?" Dean growls as he stands up, "Cas?"

Looking around, he spots the angel a couple of feet behind them, lying on the ground with closed eyes and face contorted in agony. They're still at the motel, having only managed to get out to the parking lot. Castiel has apparently lasted only for this long.

"Cas!"

The angel doesn't look like he has heard him; he's writhing in pain, breathing through clenched teeth, fighting to remain conscious while his back is arched rigidly.

"You son of a bitch," Dean tells him angrily as realization dawns on him. "What the hellwere you thinking?"

Sam is arriving hurryingly to his side. "Dean… what was that?"

Dean keeps shaking the angel's shoulder but he remains unresponsive apart from a few cries of pain. "Wake up, dammit!" Then he turns to his brother. "Don't you see? He has brought us out. You wonder how it is possible with out-of-order wings?" He just nods towards Castiel with his head.

"Dean, we have to get out of here, now," Sam tells him. "We're only ahead of the demons with a couple sets of stairs. I don't think it will cost them much time to catch up on us."

The older Winchester looks up at the motel and nods, postponing the arguing to later. They lift the oblivious angel up and half drag, half carry him towards the Impala with Dean swearing continuously. Sam can hear the word 'idiot' multiple times.

With Castiel tucked in the backseat again, the car shoots out of the parking lot and back onto the highway. The speeding causes the angel to cry out again as his back gets pressed against the seat; he is jerked into a more alerted state. Sam comfortingly pats his shoulder as he keeps looking behind them to see if they were followed.

"You okay, Cas?"

They have to wait a couple of seconds for the answer.

"No," Castiel says hoarsely and softly, "but I'm improving."

He sounds so tired and his voice is so full of pain it almost breaks Dean's heart. "Why did you do that?" He asks, still a bit angrily but there is rather worry in his voice.

"We had to get out," Castiel explains as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

"We could have fought them."

"No Dean," if possible, Castiel sounds even more tired. "I'm sorry. You and Sam are very good hunters indeed, but you can't fight thirty demons plus six hellhounds at once. Not talking about me, being only a burden to you right now…"

"Shut up Cas," Dean interrupts him. "Don't say that. You're not a burden. You saved our asses countless times, you even saved us now, but you're still an idiot because as I see it, injured wings don't fit with flying very much."

"We had no other choice." The angel argues. "It's just my wings, they will heal with time, but those demons would have killed you. I wasn't going to watch you take another ride in Hell. By the way, you'll need to drop me out somewhere."

"What?" The brothers ask at once.

Castiel sighs. "Cerberus' saliva is still circling in my system. It has… marked my blood with a scent hellhounds can smell from thousands of miles." He stops for a little then continues. "They will find us again. And again. The best thing we can do is to split up, so that the hellhounds won't go after you."

"Oh, so they could track you down and chew the living shit out of you, that's really a great idea, Cas," Dean teases.

"But…"

"Okay, everyone, listen," Sam cuts in, "here's the plan. We're going straight to Bobby's, it's about 36 hours from there, but we don't stop anywhere for more than ten minutes. We'll take turns at driving. Bobby's a safe place, it's full of devil's traps and everything, no demon can even step over the threshold, so we can stay there until Cas' mojo comes back."

"Yeah, that sounds like a plan," Dean nods.

"I doubt," Castiel tells them, "that we could safely drive that much. Demons can move quite fast when not possessing a vessel. It's not safe for you. I still suggest that you drop me out at some point, and don't worry, I'll get by somehow."

Dean looks over at his brother. "Hey, you know, I think he's starting to sound delirious; must be caused by the blood loss. What do you think?"

Sam's getting it right away. "Yeah, he seems to be pretty out of it. We should hurry."

"I don't… I don't understand, I'm not delirious," Castiel protests faintly, but to tell the truth, he really feels like he's about to drift away. It's quite strange; an odd buzzing in his ear slowly stifles every other sound including the voices of the Winchesters, dark spots dance in his vision and the pain in his back is slowly turning numb. But he's still at himself; he's not drifting away completely, only falls into a trance-like daze. The being in his vessel is still angelic and therefore he doesn't properly know how to fall unconscious or even asleep.

He doesn't know how much time passes when the Impala stops next and the door on his side opens. He glances up only to find Dean staring down on him with a questioning gaze.

"Man, you never sleep, do you?" He sighs rather disappointedly.

"That state of the human brain is quite unfamiliar to me," Castiel admits. "By the way I doubt it could do so much good to lose track of time and everything that happens around you."

"Yeah, whatever," Dean is looking too tired to argue this time. "I just hoped you could get some real rest."

"I'm resting," Castiel assures him.

"Here, I brought you some water. Thought you might be thirsty."

"Thank you," the angel struggles to get up, and hell it doesn't go easily with all those stiff and sore limbs. When he's finally up, he takes the glass gracefully and downs it in a second, just like back in the motel room.

"Wow. You want another?"

"No." Castiel replies simply then looks at the front seats of the car and notices the emptiness. "Where's Sam?"

The older Winchester nods with his head towards a building behind them. "Gone to make himself lighter." At the angel's confused look, he adds. "In the toilet. How are your wings?"

"Better."

"You know, you angels are not really good at lying."

"I'm not lying," Castiel protests. "They feel like crap right now, but it's better than how it was like when I flew."

Dean looks completely dumbfounded. "Did I just hear you saying 'crap'?"

Now Castiel is the one who suddenly appears unsure. "Isn't it how you usually describe unpleasant things?" He asks.

"Yeah, it's just strange to hear it from a… you know, an angel of the Lord."

Castiel doesn't really understand why it is so strange to hear a word you use a lot from another person, but doesn't bother to argue further. Sam is back anyways; and according to the plan, they get back to riding, having spent no more than seven minutes on the side of the road.


It's getting dark and the thick grey clouds that have been covering the sky the whole day are still around all the way to the horizon. They give no rain, they don't even seem to move even the slightest, just hang above them like some kind of sinister omen.

There's still a good twenty hours' drive to Bobby's. Dean is driving, Sam is sleeping on the passenger seat and he would look so amusing with his open mouth and the odd facial expression he wears if only anyone watched him, but no one does so. Dean has his attention on the road ahead of them and Castiel is busy trying to deal with the growing lack of comfortableness as he's still lying on one side and his left shoulder and arm has started to become numb. So he tries to sit up, even if it awakens the pain in his wrist and wings that has been blissfully absent for a while now.

His groaning draws the attention of Dean who slows down and carefully looks at him in the rearview window.

"Cas, you okay? 'Cause you don't have to get up yet, we're still far away."

"I'm sore," the angel answers. "Dean, do you have a devil's trap on your car?"

The question is so sudden it takes time for Dean to comprehend. "You mean, if a demon wanted to get inside for a drive? No, I don't have. I don't even know where to paint it so that it won't be too… conspicuous. Why are you asking it anyways?"

"I think we're being followed," Castiel answers in a low voice.

"Shit," the hunter swears and looks in the rearview window again, this time scanning the road, but there's no one behind them. They're all alone on the road, but he knows it doesn't mean anything. "How bad is it?"

"I don't know yet," the angel replies, and suddenly his voice turns almost pleading. "Dean, you have to leave me."

Dean frowns. "Cas, we've been already over this. No one leaves anyone anywhere."

"It's for your own good."

"Shut up."

"Dean-"

"I said shut up! I don't want to hear about it anymore."

Castiel falls silent obediently, but the arguing has awakened Sam who blinks questioningly at his brother.

"What was that?"

There's a long pause and Sam starts thinking he won't get any answers at all, but then Dean speaks.

"Cas thinks we may be followed."

Just like the older Winchester, Sam also turns around and peeks behind them, but there's still no sign of anyone on the road apart from them.

"You sure Cas? Wasn't it just a dream?"

"I've never had a chance to experience dreaming in my life," comes the dry reply, "but I'm fairly sure I can tell the difference."

"Okay, okay. How can you tell, by the way?"

Castiel looks down at his hand and he sounds oddly ashamed. "Cerberus' saliva is burning my veins. It means they've set the hellhounds on the smell."

"Yeah, but as I said even a thousand hellhounds and a million demons couldn't make me put you out in the middle of nowhere and let you face the horde alone." Dean's voice is firm, and Sam knows he thinks it most seriously and no one could ever talk him into doing so. Not like Sam himself would want to; leaving someone who's injured, angel or not, to be sacrificed for them to gain a couple hours of advantage was never an option.

"I have a bad feeling," Castiel mutters suddenly in a low voice and looks around. He sounds anxious and it's so different from the tone he used a couple of seconds ago when they were arguing that it even occurs to Dean.

"What's it?"

"They're gaining speed."

"So are we," the older Winchester replies and steps harder on the gas.

Castiel leans forward. "Dean, I don't think it's a good idea. You should slow down." His voice is strangely agitated by now.

"What? But you said-"

"Dean!"

A moment later he can see it too. Sam also calls his name as the headlights of a van rapidly approach them and Dean tries to hitch the steering wheel sideways in an attempt to avoid the crash but it's too late. He can feel Castiel's hand on his shoulder as if the angel was trying to fly them away again, but he has probably failed as the last thing Dean can hear is the sound of metal crashing against metal, and then he's enfolded by darkness.


Ouch! Sorry about the cliffhanger, I didn't want the story to become too boring... hehe:D

Now about Meg. I've written this before I saw s06e10 Caged Heat, so I pictured her as a vengeful enemy... which is who she should be like, I think, especially after Abandon All Hope, remember? She should be looking to take revenge on Cas, so that hot moment they shared was totally uncool in my opinion. But tell me what you think, either about this or about the chaoter!:)

FFV