A/N: Thank you for all the faves, follows and reviews i've received. This chapter is extra long to make up for my tardiness;) The next chapter will be released after my schedule calms down, about next week or in two weeks. Special thank you to deadone1013 (aka, angel from Bulgaria). Note: I don't own this bible quote fragment or any quote fragments in this story. Onward!
Chapter 4: And Ye Shall Know The Truth
~SPN~
Sunlight brings warmth to the earth. It streaks through the oceans with its shimmering gold. It nourishes plants so they can sprout out of the ground. All this, to the simplicity of warming the cold blooded creatures who roam the land. It keeps this planet alive. But to a certain older hunter toiling away in the heat, the sunlight was a painful source of warmth and he found himself wishing for a cloud to cover the giant, burning, spherical mass.
Bobby looked up from his work to take out a rag from his pocket and wiped the beads of sweat from his brow. He'd put off a long list of improvements around the bunker ever since they finished with the darkness and he'd be damned if he wasn't going to use every bit of the short time allotted, to finish them. Even if it meant that he had to work in 100 degree weather.
The ringing from his cell phone momentarily shifted his carpenter complex back to a hunter. Brushing the sawdust off his hands, he fished the phone out of his pocket, in haste.
"How bad is it?"
"It's Cas. His feathers were a little ruffled during the hunt. We're on our way there now."
Dean replied.
A part of Bobby immediately relaxed and let his lungs release the building air, but there was also a part of him that was equally worried for the scruffy angel. He'd grown to accepting Cas as one of the family now and it pained him to see that boy hurt; just like Sam or Dean. Sometimes more so because of the harsh, debilitating loss the angel suffered when he gave up everything he had ever known to help a couple of crazy humans defeat the inevitable prophecy. He knew that if he was faced with the kill-or-be-killed scenario like the angel was, he'd probably wrack his brain to invent a new one instead. But in Cas' dysfunctional family, there really wasn't a third option and the kid came to terms with it and did the hardest thing that no-one should ever have to do. In the end, it turned out that he was just as zany for free will as the rest of them.
Bobby knitted his brows in deepened concern. "What happened?"
"I'll explain it all when we get there, but right now I need you to research a creature with harder armoring than an angel blade, and can teleport."
"What in the Sam Hill did you get yerselves into?"
Sam smirked. "Just the usual Bobby."
There was a small pause on the other line, along with a rustle of papers…
"I'm not sure that there's anything like that in the records, but I'll see if I can scrounge up something. How's he doin?"
Dean briefly glanced in the mirror.
"He's hangin' in there," the hunter said with a gruff undertone of something unspoken.
"I'll get a place ready for him. Listen to me, whatever nicked Cas is likely trackin you, so you idjits be careful and make it here in one piece, ya hear me?"
"Yeah, Bobby."
The line went slack. Bobby closed his eyes briefly, silently thanking whatever force that got them out alive, yet again. He didn't just come back from being an energy wave floating around in the ether to have everyone he loved die on him.
The recent turn of events had been unusually taxing on Dean's mind, weighing heavily like a sack of bricks on his back as it kept on replaying the day's events on a broken film reel with its ending spliced. He wanted to believe that Castiel hadn't sustained any major injuries, but the scream that he heard and the angel's now drained grace, spoke of something different. Perhaps it was just the pain of a shoulder dislocation? That always seemed to hurt the angel more than normal in the past, and he did slightly scream as it happened once. Well, not exactly slightly, since he used his true voice to profess his bodily torment.
Dean felt the bile rising in his throat at the flashback and pushed the memory far away. He couldn't think about it now... He just couldn't.
Although, maybe It was just the combination of it all that magnified the pain to that extent? However, there was something very strange about the way the monster fled, that scratched annoyedly at his brain. Though he was beyond grateful that the beast didn't do more damage, he had to question why. It could have easily killed them both, but it chose to flee instead? That didn't add up.
Dean took a break from his whirling thoughts and checked on the sleeping angel in the back. During their trip home, Cas began to show signs of drowsiness and weariness, so after they stopped to refuel, he changed places with Sam, so he could sleep. Which was where his tuckered out brother now resided; Beside him, eyes closed a few minutes prior with the warning not to snap another sleeping-photo of him. But having the responsibility of being a pain-in-the-ass big brother, Dean didn't oblige. There was something precious when he was peacefully asleep that reminded him of how his baby brother used to be before his hunting life began. Before all the preordained destiny crap was laid on him, before he knew the true pain of loss that came along with being a Winchester.
When all visual remnants of pain or stress from the day would be gone from him, and in their place was a calm and peaceful expression, it was a rare privilege that he took comfort in so he needed a more permanent copy to look back on. For his sanity, if nothing else.
He snapped the picture.
A crunch of gravel, plus the dying, throaty rumble of the Impala soon punctuated their return as the Winchesters pulled into the driveway. Dean loosened his grip on the wheel that hadn't even been aware he was squeezing that tightly, absently watching as his knuckles regained their natural hue.
From the looks of things, Bobby had gathered a few metal car parts and some wood planks right next to a power saw. What for, Dean didn't realły care much. As long as it wasn't for something crazy, dangerous, life threatening, or all three, the hunter stayed out of his personal affairs and didn't ask questions. The old coot had to stay livin' for at least 50 more years, even outrunning another reaper if that's what it took. They just couldn't face losing any more of their family, yet.
"Rise and shine sleeping beauties, we're here!" Dean announced loudly, causing Sam to wake up with a slight startle.
Blinking his eyes wearily a few times, he whipped around to the backseat. He snapped back around to his brother. "What're we going to do about Cas?"
The older hunter bowed his head. "We wake him up," came the dull reply.
Sam immediately protested this and crossed his arms. "No way. I'll help you get him inside, but you're waking him up. I don't want another bruise."
The older hunter snorted, remembering his brother's folly. "Dude, that was one time. And you're the one who clamped onto his arm with your giant hands and started shaking him. What was he supposed to do? You're lucky he didn't break your wrist."
Dean opened the side door, and peered in. The angel was sleeping with his back against the seat, head tilted off to the side with his hands resting peacefully in his lap. His chest was rising and falling in a deep sleep, stuttering every once in a while from what he guessed was a passing nightmare, then calmed, once more.
Dean sighed resignedly. His friend really needed the rest after God knows what happened to him when he was knocked out. But the truth of the matter was that Cas was suffering from shoulder injuries, as well as healing stitches, and his angel-juice was too weak for him to be left alone. He had to come inside where it was safer. After all, doing any doctoring from the confines of the backseat was impossible, say except for a member of Cirque Du Soleil.
Without any further mulling, Dean softly rested his hand on the angel's shoulder.
To the hunter's surprise, Castiel didn't so much as flinch at the contact, but instead, stayed perfectly still, his breaths still coming in even patterns as if he hadn't even registered that he had been touched at all. Dean scoffed lightly at this and shook his head. "Come on, Cas, up an at 'em."
The angel began to stir, eyes slowly flickering open as his gaze transfixed on Dean, and then to his vacant shoulder. He couldn't be sure, but he thought he felt the hunter's hand resting there. The trace of lingering warmth and weight, told him that it was recently moved.
He faced the hunter. "Dean, I don't feel right... The walls of my stomach are contracting, painfully."
"And you've got the urge to upchuck into a trashcan?"
The angel held his stomach and closed his eyes. "There is a gradual urge to do so, but i'm not near any trash cans at the moment," he replied.
Dean smirked weakly and put down the middle seat so Castiel could get out easier. "You bet you're not. So shake off that feeling until I get you out of my car, you got it?"
The angel nodded, steadily rising up, mindful of the low roof. "I'll try, but it's hard to subdue my bodily functions."
Dean wet his lips, staring up at him. "I told you to keep your eyes on the sky, but you insisted on staring at the damn, road. This is on you."
Cas sighed, and climbed out of the Impala with Dean's help to steady him. "Yes, I know. But seeing those painted lines race past my vision was exhilarating. Especially the yellow ones." His smile turned into a rueful pout.
"I miss the bees," he added as he stepped onto the ground, staring longingly at the dried-grass billowing in the light breeze.
Sam had been leaning against the door, watching everything happening with a perplexed smile that held tinge of envy. He needed a relationship like his brother had. Perhaps another angel or immortal being somewhere would suffice? After all, how could they die burning on the ceiling if they weren't human? But where would he ever find someone like that who wasn't a dick?
"See, no bruises Sam." Dean arrogantly held up his wrists to demonstrate his previous point further, receiving a pissy expression from Sam, and shut the door.
"Profound bond, remember? You could've stuck a bunch of twizzlers up his nose and he still wouldn't have budged," Sam replied.
The angel was about to voice his opinion to their words, but felt his energy draining too quickly to get involved with another spirited Winchester argument. So just silently listened, observing the calmness of nature as they exchanged a few thinly veiled insults and colorful metaphors before abruptly ending it.
Dean shut the door. "We're done here, we need to get Cas inside. Eight hours, could be minutes or seconds to that thing out there."
Sam made a move to support the angel, but Dean took that liberty into his own hands. "I got this, you just let Bobby know that we're here." Dean wrapped one arm around Cas' waist to keep him steady, mindful of his injuries, and with gentle care he walked the injured angel over to the front door. The two of them stood in place as Sam gave a few short raps on the rough cedar.
Barely a minute had gone by until the door creaked open, revealing a slightly ajar Bobby standing by the doorframe, an unsettled expression plastered on his face. He bid them enter.
Once inside, Dean helped the angel down the stairs into the Men of Letters bunker, with the other two following beside. A small array of medical supplies consisting of alcohol, a needle and thread, and some bandages were all laid out on the wooden table. These were the essentials that every hunter had to have at one point or another, and Bobby knew that from regrettable experience with their recent battle with the darkness, so he kept the bunker well stocked.
Dean walked Cas over to the chair in the middle of the room and helped him sit down; giving him a once-over to make sure his bones hadn't shifted any more out of place. Thankfully, they all seemed to be in the right places, even considering how many times he was moved.
After the older hunter got the angel situated, Bobby motioned the boys over to the stairs with him, away from where he believed the ears of the angel couldn't reach.
"Yah know what has to be done, right?"
Sam and Dean both perused each-other, then drifted back to Bobby. "We know."
"And you think that he can take that kind of pain? He's practically human now." The three of them leered over at the angel, earning a curious expression and head tilt in return.
"We have no choice Bobby, he's weakened but he's still angel. He's a tough little nerdy dude, he'll get through this," Dean finished.
"Let's pray he is, cause if memory serves me correct, having a bone popped into place the last time wasn't exactly a walk in the park for him, and we have two. The kid's tough, but even he has his limits."
Dean drug a hand over his face. "I know."
Silence. Nothing more was worth hearing, for he knew the general direction of the conversation. They brought home their usual broken ally, not tough, broken. He was human again and that meant the Winchesters didn't have a protector anymore. Although he still possessed the knowledge and skills of many millennia as a soldier in his father's army, he was still relatively defenseless against attackers, and he feared what that meant for Sam and Dean. What would become of them?
The three hunters exchanged glances of uncertainty before promptly taking their places beside the confused angel, trying their best not to display the worry that was swirling under the surface.
Dean lightly squeezed his hand, keenly meeting his eyes. "You know the drill. Relax and try not to move." His throat bobbed. "I know this wasn't easy for you the last time, but I'll try to make it as quick and painless as possible. Just, please stay still or we could mess you up again."
The angel said nothing and softly nodded, maintaining his stoic front as he stared at the wall. In his defense, Castiel had originally planned on keeping still the last time, but when he felt the pain strike he was compelled to follow his natural instincts to get away from the source; which ended up twisting his shoulder all to hell. Cas needed to keep still for Dean, he didn't want him to hear his screams again, or see the hunter's composure break, running to the sink to throw up his latest meal. He had to be strong for Dean.
The hunter called Sam over to keep the angel still while the latter and Bobby each took a shoulder.
Castiel waited for the inevitable as his pulse quickened and his body tensed in suspense at what was coming. He knew what to avoid, that tensing his muscles would make the process much more painful. Castiel took several deep breaths to slow his heart-rate, forcing his body and mind to relax as much as possible.
The air cracked as his bones were set in their proper places, causing him to let out a small whimper, but showed no other signs of pain.
With the bones in place, Dean hovered back around the front of him and helped him up, sitting him down on the couch. "I got a handed to you, you're tougher than you look, Cas." Dean gave an 'I told you so' look to Bobby and Sam, which was met with a tired eye-roll from each of them.
"I'll go get some blankets." Bobby announced before heading down the hall. The hunter had to admit, he hadn't bet on the kid coming through it so cleanly. He was proud of him.
Castiel felt his trenchcoat being undone around his shoulders and then draped around him, before his eyes regained their focus and laid on a certain partially stubbled chin and shamrock green eyes.
He hadn't expected his focus to blur so suddenly, and blamed it on the procedure that that he had just underwent. The way Dean had described it to him didn't at all measure up to actually feeling it. At first, the angel expected a wave of pain to as his bones ground into place, like last time, but as it happened, he didn't feel hardly a thing. The angel knew his pain threshold was of average for a warrior of heaven, not as high as Michael's or Gabriel's, and certainly nowhere near Lucifer's level, but average. What was different? He'd felt all previous pains in the short time that he spent human the last time, so how was this any different? Had his grace regained its power?
"How's the stomach? Better?"
"It feels fine now." The angel twisted around to peek behind him, but in doing so, aggravated his sore shoulders, causing a grunt of pain to escape his lips.
"Cas, your joints need to heal before you can do any bendy things. Did you need your back scratched or something?" Dean asked.
"No, my wings, Dean."
"You need me to scratch your wings?... Okay."
"No, I don't need you to do that. Angel wings don't itch. Can you see them?"
The hunter peaked behind him for the appendages and over to the walls and ceiling before facing him. "You mean behind your back, or stretched out?"
"So you can see them. I need to-"
"No, I can't see your wings. They're still hidden," Dean responded quickly.
Sam felt uncomfortable with the way the conversation was going and knew that they needed some alone time before things escalated any more. Flashbacks of oily hands combing through thick back feathers, bombarded his memory. He visibly shuddered in his seat.
"Something must be keeping him, um... I'm gonna go help with those blankets."
Dean raised a confirming hand to his brother who was covering his ears as he left the room. What's with him?
Dean turned his focus back to the sulking angel, seemingly distressed by his previous words. Sometimes it was hard to tell what emotion Cas currently felt, due to the lack of signals he sent out. He tried digging further.
"Why are you so concerned about me seeing your wings all of a sudden? I told you I didn't care that they're tattered or broken, or anything you think they are. Hell, I wouldn't even care if they were made of cardboard. They might be hard to fly with though, better stick with feathers," he grinned.
The angel's cheeks turned a sight tinge of pink at his words, which pushed the hunter into a brighter smile, and at that moment Castiel couldn't stop the smile of his own that came after it. A small, minuscule burden was lightened from his load, but it was enough to raise his spirits. Only Dean had that power over him. Seeing Dean smile made his stomach flutter, and he felt blessed but also privileged to witness, especially, one of his rare genuine smiles that only happened when he himself did something that Dean particularly liked.
The angel watched as Dean's soul glowed an intense gold with blue and pink hues conflating and imbricating inside. A small portion of that radiated through the hunter's eyes and warmed the angel's heart. Castiel was going to make sure that he didn't waste one micro-second of time, watching.
"Thank you, Dean," he smiled softly.
"I meant every word. Your wings are beautiful, no matter what."
A small bang resounded from the basement, breaking the eye contact between them.
The hunter shifted uncomfortably and stared at his feet, feeling slightly awkward. Dean cleared his throat. "By the way, i'm glad that you came with us. Without your angelic tracking device, we would've been lunch. And that branch I hit..."
The angel met him in a dead on stare, his pupils loyally standing their ground even if they didn't reach his face. "It was my honor to rescue you, righteous man."
Dean raised a speculative brow. It had been a while since he'd used that named. But like before, he was still feeling unworthy of the title. "You still call me that after all i've done?"
The angel grimaced at his words. "After all you've done? You have done so much good, Dean. All the bad deeds you committed are outweighed by it in the cosmic scheme of things. You can't blame yourself for being human."
"I don't believe that a couple feathers have tipped the slabs of concrete i've got piled on the scales. I'm not righteous, it's a mistake."
"Dean... God doesn't make mistakes, he is perfect. You've looked after your brother, your family, this world; to the best of your abilities. You even saved it a few times. That is a high level of achievement that very few lay claim to. You should be proud of yourself."
The hunter raised his head from the floor. "So should you."
Castiel shook his head 'no'. "Believe me, I broke the scales a long time ago. Now i'm just overflowing with, bad."
Pounding of footsteps caused Dean to look up from the angel and over to the staircase at the figures descending it; their hands full of blankets and pillows.
"We're not done with this," Dean cautioned, before wrapping the thick blankets around the angel's body, leaving nothing outside the cocoon of warmth. Sam and Bobby came over and propped his head up the pillows they held in their hands.
Sam turned to his brother. "Dean, when we were gathering the blankets in the closet, I found a small lever hidden behind some towels that led outside the bunker. In case things go south with Lucifer, we have an escape hatch."
Dean scrunched his brows in question. "Sam, we found that lever when we first moved in."
"I don't remember there being a lever?'
"You were probably too choked up about the library, to even care."
While the brothers were busy reminiscing, Bobby gave the angel a final check for internal injuries. His hands scoured over his chest, pressing lightly over the certain areas with bluish pigment. All of a sudden, his hand found an unusually bruised spot and he pressed up against it with his fingers. Castiel let out a high pitched whimper, and instinctively pulled away from the touch.
Turning on his heels, Dean immediately took Bobby's place beside the angel. "Cas? What's wrong, buddy? Talk to me."
There it was again. That same line directed at him. With all the staring, he felt like an attraction at SeaWorld. He'd almost gotten back to his regular self, and now, he sat there powerless to do anything about his condition. Castiel said 'yes' to Lucifer and let him out of the cage. He's the one who was forced to watch him destroy people and his own kin, to watch Sam's agonized expressions as he deprecated him. And now, he's the one who was too weak to fight back hard enough when a deadly creature had him pinned on the ground. The hunters were always the ones to clean up the angel's messes in the past, and now they were cleaning up, yet another mess of his. For their own good, Castiel didn't want the hunters to find out the truth. This mess was of his doing, and so help him, he would be the one to clean it up this time.
"I'm fine, my chest is just sore," he bit out.
"What kind of sore, Cas, like your ribs?" Sam studied him intently, watching for any tells. But either the angel was telling the truth, or was just an extremely good liar. There was no fidgeting, rapid eye movement, or modulated speech. Nothing to make him a suspect.
"No, It feels like a small bruise. I just need time to regain my strength," he replied to Sam.
Still not satisfied with his answer, but being able to do nothing with him in such a groggy state, the hunters left him in peace, curled up on the sofa watching nature documentaries on their portable tv, as they set to research in the Map room.
News anchor: "This just in. Littering the sidewalk of a Kansas gas-station, was a large pile of what appeared to be ash. Authorities are still not sure what caused this anomaly, but the attendant who was outside at the time of the incident, had this to say."
Audio recording of a witness: "I was sober. I had nothing in my system but coffee, and I know that what I was seeing couldn't possibly be real, but now I have no doubt what it was."
Reporter: "Could you explain to our viewers what you saw, Mr. Shicks?"
Witness: "I saw the biggest damn thing that i've ever seen in my life. It's head was touching the telephone wires, its body was covered in some kind of silver armor and it had very sharp, ravenous, teeth and claws that were, I'd say about five feet long. I feared for my life. I thought, this thing is gonna kill me. And that's when it turned its swirly blue eyes towards me."
Reporter: "What did you do next?"
Witness: "Well, the smart thing to do would've been to run, but I didn't do that, how could I? Anyway, it shrieked loudly, bursting every streetlight and shattering the glass windows of this station, and then disintegrated before my very eyes, leaving behind this pile of ash that you see before you."
"Wait, pause it and zoom in."
Hey, is that?..."
"Metadouche's ring? You bet. After Cas 86'd his ass, he probably needed to find work that didn't send the God squad or our very own avenging angel after him. Serves him right."
Sam scrolled around the zoomed image and landed on the face of the attendant. "His head is even fuzzed out."
"Alright, back on target!" Bobby ripped his tablet away from them, ignoring their protests. "We need to hit the books in case there's more of those things out there. Which means, we need Cas' description of the thing."
Dean knitted his brows. "The dude's exhausted, he's not exactly witness material right now. Besides, he have Metatron's description."
"Sorry, Goldilocks, but he's gonna have to be, we can't pussy-foot around with this. I didn't find zip about anything remotely relating to what you described. There's no lore, no news, hell, I even did a damn Google search. It's like it doesn't even exist. And Metatron didn't get an up-close-and-personal view of it, only Castiel did.
Bobby paused before speaking again. "Let me put it this way, If that creature managed to dislocate a few bones of an angel, what do you think it could do to us? That thing has some super juice up it's ass, and we should be preparing for the marathon and hitting the mega smoothies. Not ogling at some damn, ring, like a bunch of bridesmaids."
Sam pursed his lips. "Yeah, but how bad could they be if they explode within a few hours? We just need to give a bullshit reason for everyone to stay indoors until things play out."
Dean pointed at his brother, while keeping Bobby's gaze. "I'm with that idea. Why get your hands messy when you don't have to."
"You think it's that easy? What if certain climate changes affect them, or they recompose themselves after death? We don't know what these monsters are, or what they are capable of. This might even the beginning of another Apocalypse. We just... don't know." The hunter sighed and sat down in the chair behind him.
The brothers were silent, pondering the hunter's words. This was far, far more complicated than what they previously thought.
….
Castiel was a move for the door before padding footsteps creeped up behind him.
"Where do you think you're going?"
Cas groaned, turning around toward the three hunters staring at him. "To heaven, Dean. I appreciate what you've all done for me, but I need you to trust me, it's the only option I have left."
"You're God's poster-boy again, since when?"
"Cas, I thought your grace was too weak to fly? That's why we crash-landed on the cliff," Sam questioned.
The angel faced the younger Winchester. "It is weak, but I have enough strength to travel and return back to you."
He then shifted back to Dean. "Not everyone has taken me back into their good-graces, but I need help with something, information." The angels eyes didn't reflect what he was saying, but instead were filled with uncertainty and fear that made the hunter's insides twist.
Bobby sighed at what he was hearing. He wasn't the boys damn, invisible watchdog anymore that tagged along in the backseat of the Chevy. He couldn't keep them from trouble when they stepped out that door. They were tight-roping on the thinnest rope, and their safety net was apparently briefly out of commission. "What are you needing help with, that you need to exhaust yourself for?" He queried.
The hunter spoke over his uncle. "Um, hello, are we just furniture to you? We can help in any way they can!"
"No, Dean, you can't," snapped Cas. "Not even you can help me with this, neither of you can. I need the guidance of my brethren in heaven."
"And is that information worth dying for?"
The angel said nothing, avoiding eye contact.
"And what do you mean it's-"
The angel disappeared before Dean could finish, causing an annoyed shrug to erupt from the hunter. What had he meant by his only option left? Dean knew his injuries weren't life threatening, so why take this risk to go to heaven? What was Cas hiding from him?