A/N: Look up 'Fight The Good Fight' by Triumph and have it ready to play when the time comes. There's a scene when this song will come up, and hearing it will give you a better idea of how they interact with it.
Dean had always been one to rise early, even before the onset of puberty. It was a militant habit that had been drilled into him, something he did without complaint, on the job or not. That day, he had more reason than doing it out of routine. Sharing the bed with the gender swapped Castiel had left him without a wink of sleep and wandering thoughts he didn't want to entertain. He decided he would remedy that by taking a nice cold shower.
Other than shocking him from sleep deprivation, his body eventually adjusted, and his initial gasping returned to an even keel. Though one persistent and nagging thought wouldn't leave him alone: he hadn't been in bed with a woman for a long time. Considering all the world saving they'd been doing for the past few months, raising Jack, and rescuing and relocating a bunch of their alternate friends from an apocalyptic world, it was easy for him to forget to put a little time aside for himself. He honestly hadn't even watched any porn then, which was as much a shock to him as it would be for anyone else. When that case was over, he promised himself he'd devote an entire evening to catch up on his favourite bookmarked page, Busty Asians.
Dean exited the bathroom to see both Sam and Castiel awake.
"You're up early," Sam commented as he walked towards him, yawning. "Even before the alarm."
"You know that saying 'the early bird'… yadda, yadda."
"'Catches the early worm'?" Sam suggested with a quirked brow.
"Yeah. That. Except more hunter-y and with monster ganking."
Sam only raised his brows minutely at his brother's sudden interest and enthusiasm for that case. He stepped past him and paused at the bathroom door. "Cas, you want to go first?"
Castiel was sitting up in bed with her knees drawn to her chest and the blanket draped around her shoulders. "No, it's all right. You can go ahead, Sam."
"Okay." Sam nodded and headed in, shutting the door behind him.
Dean warily glanced at the angel, being reminded of the state of confusion he'd been agonising over the past few hours. With a small sigh, he trudged over to the kitchenette and brought the stray cups on the counter into the sink. He let the water run for a bit before he started scrubbing at the dirty dishes.
"Good mooorning, Casper! It's gonna be a scorcher today!"
Castiel's brows drew together as she glanced at the alarm clock. "I think this clock radio may be possessed," the blanket slipped down to her lap as she reached over towards the radio, feeling for the appropriate button to silence it, "I turned it off ten minutes ago."
Dean turned around as he dried off his hands with a towel. "You hit snooze. Here." He came forward and tapped on a smaller inconspicuous button.
"We're reaching record highs today this spring. Can we say 'hello summer?'—"
"This one shuts it off," he explained.
"I see." Castiel took note of it and sat back on the bed.
Dean's eyes grew round, noticing the bruising that had inevitably formed on his friend's chest. He lowered his gaze with terse brows and abruptly headed to the freezer.
"Dean?" Castiel blinked, startled at the sudden change in his mood.
Dean stuffed some ice into a towel and returned with it to Castiel. "Here," he said, offering it to her, "it's the least I can do for…." His eyes trailed to the side, his expression sullen.
Castiel held the cold bundle in her hands as she watched him. "Thank you, Dean," she began. "I should have warned you—"
"Hey, no, don't give me that," he was quick to interrupt. "Don't make excuses for me. I hurt you. And I'm sorry." He locked eyes with her, his gaze steady and serious this time.
"Dean—"
The sound of the shower turning on and Sam yelping broke their moment.
Castiel glanced at the bathroom door but didn't question it.
"You should ice it before it starts melting."
"Right." She clasped the clinking bundle to her chest and let out a shaky breath.
"Hold it there for a few minutes," Dean instructed. He got up and returned to the kitchenette. "Want coffee?" He dumped some grounds into the filter and shoved the basket into the coffee machine.
"Are we having breakfast?" After skipping dinner, she felt particularly ravenous that morning.
Dean turned around and leaned back against the counter as he waited for the coffee to fill the pot. "Yeah, sure, we could go for breakfast."
"I've never had a proper one before." As a human man, breakfast either consisted of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, cold cereal, or frozen burritos cooked in a microwave.
"Didn't have much of the human experience the last time 'round, did you?" Dean poured himself a cup of coffee as soon as it was done.
"No. Considering the situation I had been in, I never had the opportunity to revel in the more enjoyable aspects of human life. Still, there were a few things that led me to see why life on earth can be the cause of so much envy."
"Really? What's that?" Dean blew at the steam before taking a sip.
"Free will. Tasting and actually enjoying the food you eat. And sex."
Dean choked on his coffee and ended up having some spill over his cup. He continued to cough as he wagged the moisture off his hand, then cleared his throat. "Huh, you know, sex isn't exclusive to humankind." He turned around to wipe the bit of coffee that had stained the cuff of his sleeve. "Angels do the nasty, too," he said over his shoulder with a grin.
"Yes, I suppose that's true…" Castiel replied with a slight frown.
"Tell you what," Dean poured another cup and came to her with it, exchanging it for her melting bundle of ice, "now that you've got your wings clipped, if you make a bucket list, we'll see how much of it we can get done."
Castiel blew at the steam and took a sip of the bitter brew. She made a face.
"You'd need to be quick, though. Don't think you're gonna be sticking around long as a mud dweller." He gave her a wink before he moved back to the sink and dumped the ice.
Castiel peered at him with a smile, admiring his optimism, though when she turned to set her mug down on the nightstand, her expression waned. Did she have faith that she would return to her original body? She honestly felt that it was a bleak outcome. Knowing that she could potentially be staying in her current female form was something she couldn't quite bring to tell her friends. She didn't know how they would react. What Dean would think. That was something she had decided to keep to herself till the time would come she would be forced to share.
As soon as the bathroom door opened, Castiel reached into the bag next to the bed for Dean's plaid shirt and pulled it on, quick to conceal her bruise. She got up and rummaged through the other bags for an outfit.
Sam walked out with his hair wet and a towel wrung around his neck. His gaze immediately fixed on the coffee pot and he made a beeline towards it.
"Excuse me, Sam," Castiel said as she quickly walked past him. She slipped into the bathroom with her bundle of clothes and shut the door behind her.
Sam didn't make a sound till he'd guzzled down half a cup of the black liquid gold. He let out a sigh and looked to his brother. "'The hell, Dean."
Dean perked up and glanced back at him. "What?"
"You let the water run cold before I jumped in."
Dean paused. It was actually to calm the other, more excitable parts of his body, but it dawned on him that with all the pranking he'd done on his brother in the past, it was the perfect excuse, rather than have him explain his… awkward situation.
Dean grinned at him in old habit. "Woke you right up, didn't it, Sammy?"
Sam huffed. "Don't be such a jerk, Dean! What if it had been Cas that had gone first?"
Dean paused with his coffee to his lips. "Then I guess the joke's on him," he said with a shrug, followed by an indulgent sip.
Sam rolled his eyes and joined his brother as he sank back against the counter and drank his coffee.
"We're gonna grab breakfast," Dean said.
"We still need to interview the other victims' families—"
"Eh, it's early, we've got time," Dean interjected, waving it off.
"Yeah," Sam nodded with a sigh, "okay."
"I was thinking that old '50s diner we passed a couple days back."
"Diner food is still diner food." Sam cradled his half empty cup in one hand and mopped at his hair with the other.
"Well, I'm a whole-package kinda guy; I'm there for the ambiance, too, okay?"
"Says the guy who bought fried dumplings in a back alley at night."
"Hey, there was an air of mystery there. And you know that food trucks have some of the best food."
Sam chuckled and shook his head. "Not according to how you were moaning on the toilet for the rest of that night."
Dean gave him a look. "On a more serious note," he let out a low breath, "Cas doesn't know which hospital he went to, only that it was in Portland."
Sam nodded. "At least we've narrowed it down to one city. That'll save me a lot of time," he said with a sigh.
"I know you've got a lot riding on you, Sam, with this case and all, but try to do it quick."
"Of course," Sam said with a nod, "this is Cas we're talkin' 'bout."
The brothers grew quiet when they heard the bathroom door open.
Castiel stepped out donning another new ensemble. This time, the length of her skirt had grown, but it was far from being conservative. As Cathy put it, it was 'cute, flirty, and versatile'. Castiel felt out of place wearing such lightweight clothes, especially when it seemed like she was baring her lower extremities more often than not, but with the way her tangerine skirt fluttered at her calves reminded her of her trench coat, which was a little less unnerving. Though, the Winchesters' stares were not helping. At least Sam wasn't gaping at her for the bruise. That was covered with the black lace of her sleeveless daisy blouse.
"Um, Sam, I hope you don't mind me using your comb," she began.
Sam's heightened brows lowered and his lips drew into a line. "Oh. You used my comb," he said more in a statement than an expression of surprise.
Dean took a look at his face and started to laugh. "It'd have been so much worse if you'd gotten yourself a brush, wouldn't it, Sammy?" Dean smacked him on the side of the arm.
"And Dean, I used your toothbrush," Castiel continued.
Dean froze and slowly peered at her.
A creeping smile cracked out on Sam's lips. "Huh." He turned to look at his brother.
"You… you used my toothbrush?!" Dean's eyes bulged.
"I… I don't have one," Castiel tried to explain.
Dean stumbled forward and leaned against the table with braced arms, his head lowered between his shoulders. "He… he used my toothbrush," he repeated in disbelief.
"Ha," Sam smirked, patting Dean on the back of his shoulder, "I'm glad mine was just a comb," he said by his ear.
Dean's directed glare at his brother only broadened Sam's grin.
"Wait," Dean slowly raised his head to look at Castiel, "did you use it last night, too?"
Castiel blinked and returned his gaze in silence. "Well, I, uh—"
"Oh, God!" Dean stared at her in horror. "I used it!"
Sam chortled despite Dean's genuine disgust. "Dean," he managed to say after some effort, "it's not like you haven't swapped spit with hundreds of other women. Just think of it like that."
"It's not the same!" Dean said vehemently. "Okay, there's some tongue wrestling involved, but the only thing I'm sharing with another chick is her bodily fluids—"
"Yeah, that's definitely a nicer way of putting it."
"—I'm not sharing the gingivitis and plaque on her teeth." Dean looked back at Castiel accusingly.
"I… I'm sorry, Dean," she said, her brows swooping together. She lowered her head and looked down, feeling immense regret.
"Jesus, calm down, Dean!" Sam snorted, unable to help himself. "Look at how sorry Cas is. He already feels bad enough without your yelling." Sam finally pulled himself together, feeling sympathetic for his celestial friend.
Dean looked at Castiel and took a breath to calm himself. "Okay, I get that you're stranded in a human Wonderland without a welcome package, but you gotta let me know before you start taking things and using them. Some things you just don't share, Cas," he said sternly.
Castiel nodded. "I… understand."
Dean sighed again. "All right, we're heading to the store to get some things before breakfast. Toothbrush, hairbrush—anything else?"
Castiel's frown deepened in thought. "No, I don't believe so."
"Dean," Sam's voice was lowered, "what about—" he glanced to Castiel briefly before continuing, his voice even quieter as he came closer, "feminine hygiene."
"What?" Dean stared at his brother quizzically.
"Now that Castiel's a human… woman," Sam made a jerking motion with his head at her, causing the angel to speculate, "he—she—" he sighed, "'she' might need, you know… tampons for uh—ahem—stuff."
Castiel narrowed her eyes and followed their quiet banter.
Dean paused, his terse brows replaced with round eyes. He turned to him. "Did he say he was on his period?" he said, his voice matching his brother's in volume.
"Dean, I'm not on my period," Castiel interrupted.
The brothers paused to look at her in surprise.
"I didn't regain my superior hearing abilities, but I can read lips," she explained.
"Oh." Dean chuckled awkwardly while Sam just looked awkward. "Well, when the time comes…"
"When the time comes, I'll do what's necessary," Castiel replied without flinching. She found it a bit odd how the Winchesters suddenly acted so bizarrely at mention of such a human function.
"Uh, yeah, right," Sam agreed, his gaze shifting from the floor to her and back down.
"Yep," Dean quipped with a curt nod. He spun on his spot to retrieve his keys before heading to the door and walking out, leaving the two to follow in his footsteps.
~Å~
They stopped at a convenience store to pick up Castiel's supplies. Dean idled the adult magazine section for a minute before going to pay, dropping the toothbrush and hairbrush on the counter, in addition to a personal item.
From behind, Sam raised his brows. "Condoms?"
"You never know when passion strikes, Sammy," he said, perusing the items by the checkout. He tossed in a pack of pepperoni sticks."You gotta carry protection with you at all times," Dean said, giving the sales clerk a wink as he rang in the items.
"Huh." The clerk raised his brows as he looked at the questionable things.
Dean blinked, realising what he might have been thinking. He looked at him with slight annoyance.
"So, uh, will that be all?" the clerk asked.
"Now that you ask, got any lube? You know, for all the wild and kinky sex I'm having. Gotta make sure everyone's having an enjoyable ride."
The clerk's gaze flicked to Sam.
It took a second for Sam to pick up on it before his eyes widened. He darted a glance to his brother, then awkwardly turned around.
"Uh, yeah. They should be right next to the condoms."
"Thanks. Musta missed it." Dean smiled and left, returning shortly with said item.
As he was paying, Castiel joined them. Dean's jacket also made a reappearance on her shoulders, albeit being a poor substitute for her trench coat.
"Where did you wander off to, Alice?" Dean turned to glance at her.
"I was reading the instructions on how to insert a tampon."
All three men paused to look at her. The receipt finished printing and the cash drawer sprang open, knocking into the clerk's arm.
"The directions seem simple and straightforward enough," Castiel added. She glanced around them before looking to the bag on the counter. "Are those my items?"
Dean cleared his throat. "Yeah."
Castiel walked forward and retrieved it. "Thank you, Dean." She turned and started to lead the way out. "Can we head to breakfast, now? I could eat a buffalo."
The boys followed.
"I think you mean 'horse'," Sam corrected her.
"But a buffalo is larger than a horse." A melody chimed above her head as she stepped out.
"Ah, wait, Cas! You have some of my things!" Dean hastened to say.
"Uh, your receipt—" The clerk raised the slip in his hand as the door closed behind them.
~Å~
Like the previous night, Castiel watched Dean before placing her own order. His seemed to fit the description from one of the many shows she'd seen of breakfast, so it was an easy decision for her to make to duplicate his. As for Sam, it may have been because of Dean's influence and ridicule of his healthier options, but his choices didn't appeal to her so much.
When their food arrived, her mouth watered. She had almost started eating before seeing what the older Winchester would do next.
Dean poured syrup over his pancakes and raked his fork over the nub of butter, mixing the two together till it had properly melted.
"Of course, the syrup," Castiel said a little quietly.
Dean perked up and glanced at her, offering the little pot of amber liquid. She took it eagerly and drenched the fluffy flat cakes, then cut out a wedge to eat. She closed her eyes and let out a long sigh as she chewed.
"This…" was all she said.
"I take that you like pancakes," Dean said, taking a sip of coffee.
"Immensely," she replied, half sighing between chews.
"Try some of the bacon now." Dean smiled as he ate his food.
Castiel stabbed at one of the crispy strips and took a bite out of it. "Mm!" she moaned, looking next to her at Dean.
"I know! The sweetness from the syrup mixing with the salty bacon makes it so friggin' good!" Dean said in all seriousness.
"Mm hmm!" Castiel nodded with fervor, her mouth full as she continued to chew.
Sam sighed from across the table with his cup of coffee in hand. He ate his egg whites in silence as he tapped at his laptop. With a wedge of his brown toast hanging out of his mouth, his typing grew more aggressive with his focus.
"Sam, is it necessary to work on the case so early? You should eat first," Castiel said, peering over at him.
Sam glanced up at Castiel before looking over at Dean. "Mm," he managed to mumble at her with raised brows and a nod. He returned to his screen like he hadn't had his concentration broken.
"Let him work," Dean said. "It's important." He drained his coffee and waved at one of the waitresses for a refill. "Can I borrow a pen?" he asked her as she was filling his mug.
She held her pen up. "Make sure you return this, you hear." With a flirtatious glint in her eye, she handed it to him.
"'Course, I always do." Dean smiled wryly and winked, leaving the waitress giggling as she walked off.
Castiel took a sip of her coffee and made a face. "I don't think I enjoy coffee so much."
"That's because you're drinking it black. You might like it better with creamer and sugar." Dean opened a couple of the little creamer cups and poured the white liquid into Castiel's coffee, followed by some sugar he got from the caddy from the side of the table.
Castiel watched as he stirred, the once black liquid void transforming into hazel.
Dean tapped the spoon on the edge of the cup before taking it to his mouth. "Try it now," he said after he withdrew it clean.
Castiel turned the handle towards her before gripping it steady and raising it to her lips. She took a shallow sip. "Oh." Her eyes widened and she drank more deeply on the second take.
"Better?" Dean asked, his own cup raised.
"Much," Castiel replied with a smile. Dean edged his cup towards her, and taking the hint, Castiel clinked her own against his. She resumed her breakfast in silence with bliss filled bites when she noticed Dean scribbling something down on a napkin. She darted a few curious glances before looking away as she continued to eat and drink.
"Done," Dean announced.
Castiel peered over to see him sliding the napkin towards her.
It read: 'Cas's Mud Dwelling Bucket List in Wonderland (AKA Things to do Before Kicking it as a Human)'.
Castiel glanced back up at him.
"Just to get you started on things," Dean said. He put the pen down by the napkin for her to use.
Castiel's brows drew together slightly as she glanced down at the items. It perplexed her that in her current state, she would actually have the opportunity to do the things that humans did for leisure. The thought of that was almost overwhelming—it was just that she didn't know what she wanted to do.
Sam hummed and cleared his throat from across the table; his brows were stitched together and his eyes were still glued to his laptop. He dusted off his fingers once he'd finished off his toast, then blindly stabbed at the slabs of back bacon and eggs on his plate before shovelling them into his mouth.
Castiel looked across at Sam with an appreciative smile, glad to have him draw her back to the present. "I'll have to think of something to add later," she said, folding the napkin in half with a small pat. She took a sip of her coffee. "I'm very much enjoying this experience this time."
"You've already had your feet wet. The second time should be like getting back on your bike," Dean commented, scraping up some scrambled eggs onto his fork.
"Yes and no. There are some noticeable differences as a woman."
"Hmm." Dean raised his brows and cocked his head slightly.
"Having company is nice." Castiel directed her smile at Dean. "Having you guide me by my side alleviates most of the tension."
"I would have done it the first time 'round, too, if it wasn't for Gadreel's angel blocking."
"I don't blame you for that. He had his own agenda, and you needed to protect Sam by any means necessary. Sam's lucky to have you as his brother."
"Thanks, Cas." Dean grinned wryly at her, grateful for the acknowledgement.
"Mmph!" Sam grunted emphatically, adding a display of an equally gratuitous fist pump.
"Got something there?" Dean asked, eyeing him warily.
"Uh, yeah," Sam peered at his brother, "I found him," he said before looking to Castiel.
Castiel's grip tightened on her cup and her brows tensed minutely.
"You found Cas' body?" Dean's expression brightened. Turning to her, he grinned widely with the excitement of a boy. "You hear that, Cas? We found you."
Castiel looked to him but said nothing.
"I'm ninety-five percent sure that it's him. A John Doe in his early forties was admitted nine days ago at Sacred Heart General Hospital," Sam added.
"I gotta hand it to you, Sam, when I asked you to work quick, you went beyond expectations."
"Yeah, thanks, Dean," Sam sighed, "but that was only the good news."
"What's the bad?" Dean's expression grew serious.
"The bad news is, he's been admitted to the ICU. Uh, stab wounds to his right abdomen, three broken ribs, a fractured orbital bone… a collapsed lung," Sam sighed, "and a ruptured spleen that had to be removed." Sam glanced up from his screen to Dean, then to Castiel; Castiel's eyes were downcast as she listened. "He's in a coma right now."
Dean turned to look at Castiel, a frown etched deep on his face. "Cas."
"It is what it is, Dean," she said, her gaze fixed on her coffee. "There isn't anything that I or either of you can do now but wait." She finally looked up at him before turning to Sam. Their expressions were grim, but they knew that what she said was true. With all the information they had found, the likelihood of her staying permanently in her female vessel was high. She wondered if they were also thinking that. It would save her time from saying it out loud, she thought.
Castiel finished the last scraps of food on her plate and downed the rest of her coffee. "Excuse me," she said, standing, "this coffee goes right through me." She left the table to leave the boys to finish their breakfast in silence.
Sam shut his laptop and took a sip of his cold coffee. "I can't help but feel so helpless," he finally said. "We literally can't do anything except wait for Castiel's grace to heal. And who knows how long that'll take."
Dean set down his empty cup. "You're looking at this the wrong way. He's surrounded by doctors around the clock with medical care out the yin yang. Not to mention all the hot nurses giving him sponge baths."
Sam sighed.
"If you ask me, he couldn't be in a safer place."
"Yeah, I guess. I see your point," Sam said with a sigh.
"The important thing is, he's alive." Dean grabbed the pen off the table and shuffled out of the booth to pay at the register.
Sam took a moment for things to seep in. That wasn't something that would endanger the livelihood of the entire planet, but it did affect one of the most important persons to him on it. He gathered his laptop and finished his coffee before slipping out. Castiel returned just as he stood. "Dean's just paying now," he said.
"Looks like he's done," Castiel commented, looking out in that general direction. She slipped her folded napkin into her skirt pocket as Sam turned to look.
Dean was backing out of the door as he indicated at them with a small nod and raise of his brows.
Sam sighed. "Uh, yeah."
~Å~
They followed him out to the car where he sat waiting with the engine humming.
"Took you long enough," Dean said as they slammed the doors behind them.
"You didn't really give us much warning, Dean," Sam was quick to reply as he hastened to strap his seatbelt on.
Dean didn't appear to be in any rush as he rummaged through his glove compartment. He took out one cassette tape and held it up briefly before chucking it back into the messy pile, then pulled out another. "Relax, Sammy, I wasn't gonna leave without you. Ah ha." He settled on a tape and pushed it into his player. He held his finger down on the fast forward button and intermittently hit play to see which song it fell on. "Huh, nope. A little more. Ah."
"Uh, what are you doing, Dean?" Sam finally had to ask as Dean hit play.
Dean began to pull the car out. "Trying to instill a little hope in you." He glanced into the rearview mirror at Castiel's reflection. "The both of you." When the drums played, Dean thumped along to the beat on the steering wheel. But as soon as the singing started, he turned to Sam emphatically as he began to lip sync to the lyrics:
"'The days grow shorter and the nights are getting long
Feels like we're running out of time
Every day it seems much harder tellin' right from wrong
You got to read between the lines'."
Dean pointed with two extended fingers at his eyes, then drew them towards Sam. Sam had his brows upturned as he watched his brother, his expression clearly doubtful.
Dean directed his gaze into the rearview mirror at Castiel this time as he banged his head to the rhythm:
"'Don't get discouraged, don't be afraid, we can
Make it through another day
Make it worth the price we pay…'."
Castiel peered back into the reflection of his gaze, her own unwavering and unreadable.
"Take it away, Sammy!" Dean declared, jabbing a finger in the air towards Sam.
Sam merely blinked at his brother, unamused.
"C'mon, Sammy! You're letting all the good parts go!"
Sam sighed. "'Keep up your spirit, keep up your faith…'" he mumbled.
"'Baby!'" Dean grunted.
"'I am counting on you'," Sam sang with a little more clarity.
"You got it, Sam!" Dean encouraged.
"'You know what you've got to do…'" Sam continued, turning to look at his brother.
"Everybody!" Dean chimed.
"'Fight the good fight every moment!'" the Winchester brothers bellowed. Dean thrashed his head as he pumped his fist in the air.
"C'mon, Cas!" Dean darted her a glance.
"'Every minute every day!'" This time it was Sam who turned around as he sang the line. "Come on, Cas," he said with a small nod, a glimmer of his puppy dog eyes making an appearance.
Castiel sighed and rolled her eyes. "'Fight the good fight every moment…'"
"Yes!" Dean said triumphantly, a smile directed in the rearview mirror.
"'It's your only way…'" the three droned on, the brothers expressing the most enthusiasm led by Dean, and Castiel showing an almost reluctance.
While Dean was just as pumped during the guitar interlude, Castiel watched him from the backseat and sighed.
~Å~
The brothers returned to the motel to change into their uniforms.
"Can I come with you this time?" Castiel asked.
"You got a suit?" Dean fixed the collar on his jacket.
Castiel looked crestfallen. "No."
"Sorry, Cas, don't think you'd make a convincing agent when you're dressed like you're out on a day trip."
Castiel let out an exerted sigh. "Cathy will be the bane of my human existence."
Dean chuckled.
"We'll keep you posted. You can look up the new information on the monster as we relay it to you," Sam suggested.
Castiel sighed. "Sounds delightful." The longer she spent around the Winchesters, the more her sense of sarcasm was honed.
"Hang in there, buddy. We'll probably be done by noon. In the meantime, you can catch up on some daytime soaps or something. Binge watch some Netflix," Dean said.
"There is just so much 'Ellen' and 'Days of Our Lives' one can take. Porn would be a more welcome option."
"I couldn't agree more," Dean said with a grin.
"Dean, what's the password to your laptop?"
Dean paused. "You are not going to use my laptop to watch porn, got that?"
Castiel sighed. "I wasn't going to use it for that. I thought I'd take the opportunity to catch up on 'Orange is the New Black'. I'm behind an entire season."
Dean's brows turned up as he looked at her.
"It's a good show, Dean," Sam said in the angel's defense.
"Yeah, whatever," he said as he handed Castiel his computer.
"Dean, your password," she repeated.
Dean pursed his lips and came forward. With his voice lowered, he muttered by her ear: "Baby69."
"Is that with a capital B and numerals?" Castiel asked, stopping him in mid stride as he turned away.
Dean sighed with his back to him. "Yes, Cas." He continued on his way when he was stopped again.
"All one word?"
"Yes, Cas." Dean brought his palm to his face and rubbed at his forehead.
Castiel sat herself at the table and opened the laptop. "Baby… sixty… nine…" she said slowly as she typed it out.
"Cas, don't say it out loud!" Dean spun around and looked at her incredulously.
Sam glanced at his brother from the door. "Not like that was a secret or anything."
Dean turned to look at him. "I'm friggin' changing my password when I get back," he huffed as he walked out.
"I wouldn't even touch that thing if you paid me," Sam said, shutting the door behind him.
~Å~
The brothers worked backwards, finding themselves on the doorstep of the second victim.
A well dressed man in his forties answered the door.
"Good morning. Noah Radwanski?" Sam asked.
"Yes? Can I help you…?" He peered at them cautiously.
They flashed their badges.
"I'm Agent Graham, this is my partner Agent Lecter," Sam said. "We have a few questions about your wife. May we come in?"
The man let out a sigh and nodded, opening the door for them to come through.
"Sorry if we've caught you at a bad time. This shouldn't take long," Sam continued.
"It's not a problem. I work from home; I'm not in a rush to leave," Noah said, leading them forward.
Dean peered around at the large interior, noting the immaculate white marble flooring and sparkling crystal chandelier that hung above them.
He stifled a yawn as they entered the living room where a leather sectional surrounded a glass coffee table.
"Please," Noah gestured, offering them a seat. "Would you like anything to drink?"
"No, thank you," Sam replied as he seated himself.
Noah sat down in an armchair across from them. "What would you agents like to know?" he asked with a small sigh.
"Did your wife act differently around the time she was murdered?" Dean asked.
Noah froze, the features on his face hardening slightly. "No. Avery… was still the same old Avery. Carefree and outspoken. Even to the last minute."
"Do you know if she was having any trouble with anyone? Did she meet anyone new recently? Or get involved with someone else's problems?" Sam asked.
Noah shook his head slightly. "Not that I was aware of. She didn't work. She met a lot of people on her time out; what she did on her own was her own business. If the answer were yes to any of those questions, she didn't care to share any of that with me."
"On the day she was found, where were you?" Dean asked.
Noah sighed. "This old question again. Don't you guys share notes with the local police here?"
"Please. It would help us to hear your side of the story," Sam explained.
"Like I told the police: I was away on a business trip meeting a client. You can check my passport and the cameras at the airport for confirmation. I can even supply you with my client's number if you'd like further validation."
"We'll look into that if we need more information," Sam said. "How long were you gone for?"
"Two days. I had left a day before… Avery was found, and I was called the day after. I didn't know what had happened until I checked my messages near the end of that day. That's when I returned home." Noah's gaze lowered as he peered vacantly at the coffee table.
"Do you still have her cell phone?" Dean asked.
Noah glanced up at him, his eyes glassy. "Yes." He wiped at his eyes.
"We'll need to see that."
Noah nodded. "Sure." He stood and left the room.
Dean waited till he didn't hear the echo of his footsteps. "He's hiding something." He yawned.
"He might be. Or he could be just a grieving widow," Sam said with a sigh.
"Jesus Christ, did you see how polished the floors are?" Dean raised his foot as he peered at the dark hardwood. "I can practically see my reflection in it."
"Dean." Sam sighed.
"She was a bored housewife and he left her home alone? This sounds a little more like 'Strangers on a Train'," Dean said, turning to his brother.
"What do you mean?"
"True, he could have boarded the plane for that business trip, but we don't know his extracurricular activities. He could have had a little something on the side and had something arranged so he could get rid of the main."
"Dean, we're trying to figure out any patterns with why these attacks were made on these women; we're not trying to pin their spouses with infidelities."
"Couldn't that be a pattern?" Dean suggested. "With all the weird shit we've seen in our lives, that's hardly a blip in our weird radar."
"Well, I…" Sam sighed and nodded, "I guess that could be true. Anything is possible," he said, finally agreeing.
Noah returned. "Here you are," he said, handing Sam his late wife's cell phone.
"Thank you," Sam replied with a nod.
"It's locked, though," Noah said, sitting back down.
"That shouldn't be a problem." Sam stood. "Excuse me, I'll be right back."
He left with the phone in hand to the Impala. Sliding into the passenger seat, he opened his laptop and connected a USB wire to the cell phone before running some hacking software. The phone was unlocked within a few seconds and he was able to access her files, history, and messages. But it was the last text that jumped out at him. He disconnected her phone and shut his laptop as he hastened to return to the house.
~Å~
Meanwhile, Dean was left alone with the widowed man. He avoided making small talk and instead asked to look around the home. It was the kitchen area that he took the most interest in, recognising the part of the island and flooring where he'd seen pictures of Avery's dead body. Now, like every other inch of the space there, the tiles and sideboards were scrubbed clean. Dean found it a bit eerie that the husband was still making his espressos where she had lain sprawled, with her kidneys not five feet from where he was pouring his sugar and cream.
Dean checked the windows then the side door, noting that it opened with ease.
"Was there any damage to your windows or locks?" Dean asked the husband.
"No." The man shook his head. His phone rang. "Excuse me, I need to take this." He answered the call and walked out.
Sam entered the kitchen within a few seconds after.
"There wasn't any forced entry," Dean said. "Even in the pictures, there wasn't any noticeable signs of struggle. Either someone she knew had access to the place, or she invited someone over."
"Yeah," Sam sighed, "she texted 'Ryan'."
Dean's brows rose. "The missing link."
"And that's not all. Look." Sam moved forward and showed Dean the texts.
Dean glimpsed at them before looking at his brother, his brows furrowing.
They found the husband in his office as Dean knocked on the open door.
The man swivelled around to face them, noting their dour expressions. "I'm going to have to call you back," he said to the person on the line. He set down his phone.
"You left a pretty important detail out, Mr. Radwanski," Dean began. "How long did your wife know about you wanting a divorce?"
Noah let out a long sigh and he rubbed at his forehead. "A couple days."
"Right before you left for your trip?" Dean's brow arched sharply.
"I'm not proud of it," he said with a heavy sigh. "No one else knew about it except for my lawyer."
Dean and Sam glanced at each other.
Noah peered up at them. "He said it wouldn't look good for me if this was known about us, so I didn't bother to disclose that."
"This isn't the army where you 'don't ask, don't tell'," Dean said heatedly, "you're withholding information from us that may be vital to this case. Don't you want her murder solved?"
Glancing at his brother, Sam held Dean's shoulder and silently shook his head.
The hardness returned to the husband's face. "How dare you. How dare you insinuate that I wouldn't care about her enough to have her killer caught. We were going through a divorce, but I still cared about her deeply."
"We apologise. Agent Lecter was out of line," Sam looked at Dean with raised brows before turning back to the widow, "but this information could prove to helping us solve your ex-wife's murder."
Noah nodded and rubbed at his face. "We were still married; she didn't sign the papers. They were in my drawer when I got back. She didn't want the divorce… I did."
"Was there another woman?" Dean was quick to ask, causing his brother to frown and dart him a side glance.
"No." Noah lowered his gaze to his desk for a moment. "I… I'm gay," he said, raising his eyes to them.
This was another turn of events that the Winchesters did not see coming. Both expressed surprise—Sam's was more subdued, but Dean couldn't help but blink with rounded eyes.
"Even when I'd given her the divorce papers, she didn't know the real reason why. I couldn't bring myself to tell her the truth just yet. She also thought there was another woman—"
"There was a man instead?" Dean asked.
"No. I wasn't seeing anyone else. I wasn't being true to her, but more importantly, I wasn't being true to myself. I was tired of hiding who I really was—the real, authentic me." He sighed and shook his head. "I have a close relationship with her family. Learning about the divorce would destroy them. I'd prefer it if this information was kept private."
Sam glanced over at Dean. "I would suggest that you find time to tell them yourself in the near future," he said, turning to the widow. "It would be a lot worse if they learned about it from outside sources."
Noah merely nodded and rubbed at his forehead again.
"Did you and your wife know a Ryan?" Dean asked.
"I… no, I don't think so," the husband replied. "Is that person involved with Avery's murder?"
"We don't know yet, but we're looking into it," Sam replied. "Thank you for your time."
~Å~
"Another burner phone that's been disconnected," Sam said as they walked to the car.
"Hmm, no surprise there," Dean replied through a yawn. "I'd bet Reagan Mott texted 'Ryan' right before she got Ginsu knifed in the back."
They got into the Impala and began to head out to their next destination.
"Okay, so we know that these women are texting Ryan right before their deaths, but what's the cause?" Sam pondered out loud.
"He's probably tired of being their rebound," Dean stated.
Sam sighed. "Dean, there's gotta be something more than just that. He most likely has some sway over them if they trust him enough to text him over anyone else." Sam paused. "They're asking to see him after a big break-up."
"Yeah, that's right, Sammy. And we hunt big, scary monsters."
"Dean," Sam sighed, "I was trying to make a point there."
Dean smiled as he kept his eyes on the road.
"What if… what if he was targeting these women—specifically women in relationships—to befriend, later to kill and eat after future break-ups?"
"Huh," Dean raised his brows, "seems a little far fetched—"
"After you said that a possible pattern could be infidelity."
"Let me finish," Dean said with a raised hand. "I was going to say, yeah, it seems far fetched, but it's possible. Everything that we've seen—so far—has resulted in the chick getting dumped."
"I guess the third time's the charm," Sam said with a sigh.
~Å~
Castiel had been binge watching Netflix for a few hours only to notice the time when her stomach growled. She paused the show to see that it was a little past noon and frowned. Despite Dean's promise that he and Sam would be returning around then, she wasn't going to hold her breath. She was used to the Winchesters working long hours and losing track of time, but she knew it was all for a worthy cause. Saving lives was infinitely more important than returning to an idle, powerless, and hungry angel, just to keep her company.
With a sigh, Castiel stood and crossed the room to Dean's duffle bag, hoping to scrounge up any cash he might have stuffed away. She found a stick of Doublemint gum, half a roll of Rolaids, a 2400 Court Motel pen, a tooth—which she assumed was human—and one dollar and thirty-five cents in change. Her brows furrowed as she sighed again. She hoped Sam was at least carrying some extra money. And he was—but not by much. Three single one dollar bills, to be exact. It made sense since the Winchesters relied so much on their fraudulent credit cards, considering they didn't make any income, and were essentially committed felons.
Armed with the four dollars and thirty-five cents, her concealed angel blade, and the burner phone Dean had supplied her—in case Sam called for her to look up information, which he thankfully, hadn't done so yet—Castiel stepped out of the motel room to find something within her meager budget.
She walked by foot, recalling the convenience store nearby when she had found the motel searching for Dean and Sam. Two minutes into her walk, she was flapping her open jacket under the searing sun. A minute later she was sweating. She'd never experienced something so uncomfortable and sweltering before, let alone in such a short amount of time, but she finally resorted to removing the jacket and draping it over her arm. She instantly felt better, but then something else happened that was also a first for her.
A passing car honked, and the man behind the rolled down window whistled.
Castiel slowed and watched the man pass, his toothy smirk at her a little too smug, and his leering gaze a little too focused, especially when he was heading towards an intersection. Luckily, he managed to stop in time when the lights turned red.
Castiel narrowed her eyes as she pondered this, her head angling ever so slightly. Clearly those noises were directed at her. When she was in the mall parking lot, she could somewhat recall hearing some whistling and rousing remarks, but she was too distracted then; it had all been background noise to her, nothing she thought that had to do with her directly. Did her exposed arms invoke such a primal behaviour from men that they had the urgency to express it in some vocal form or another, comprehensible or not? She'd heard Dean making little quips and expressions when he'd seen attractive women, but he hadn't done so in an unsolicited manner. He was more… approachable. Permissible, she thought. But it was certain that Castiel still had a lot of things to learn about humans.
She finally entered the convenience store, relieved to be out of the heat and to be greeted by a gentle gust of cool conditioned air. Locating the cooler section, she studied what packaged foods looked palatable for consumption and less than four dollars. A sandwich was feasible, but then her eye caught sight of the bright freezer box with the large pictures of frozen novelty treats. She peered down into the window as her fingers relaxed on the glass. It felt good. The thought of something cold appealed to her at that moment—but not the prices. She wasn't going to be completely satisfied with just ice cream, but her overheated body would. She sighed, being reminded of the struggles and plights she had faced the first time she was human. She walked away and picked up the sandwich.
As she approached the counter, she noticed the glistening hot dogs turning under the heat lamp. Two for $2.50, or $1.69 each. They looked plump and darker than they should have been intended. She wondered how long they'd been turning on those greasy rollers, but the price was affordable, a lot cheaper than her healthy Sam sandwich.
One Dean hot dog and icy pop later, Castiel was exiting the automatic doors as she had a taste of her frozen treat. She smiled as she walked under the baking sun, savouring the melting sweet layers that both cooled her core and quenched her growing thirst.
She really was enjoying herself a lot more this time around. For once, there wasn't a looming apocalypse staring them in the face, and her friends were all safe and in a state that actually resembled happiness. And that made her happy. Caught up in her thoughts, she almost hadn't caught the half whispered comments the two guys that passed her made.
"Look at how she's smiling with her lips around that popsicle."
"'Bet that's how she looks like when she goes down on dick." The second man laughed.
She stopped and glanced over her shoulder with furrowed brows. She didn't know how to react. She had nothing witty or salty to say in response; she wasn't as seasoned like Dean and Sam. Simply, she wasn't human enough to know. Hadn't been a woman long enough to know.
With a forced sigh, Castiel continued on her way back to the motel, but with less repose.
~Å~
"Ryan makes another appearance," Dean said, climbing behind the wheel.
"And that makes for the third break-up," Sam added, buckling his seat belt. "This confirms that there's a clear pattern with all three women: they get befriended by Ryan beforehand, get dumped by their spouses, text him to come over, then become victims. It just can't be coincidence for a 'Ryan' to be at the scene each time. He's got to be the one behind these women's murders and half-eaten kidneys."
"Hmm, he's pretty specific about who's on his menu," Dean said, driving forward.
Sam paused. "Dean, you're right!"
"Yeah, I usually am." Dean sniffed.
"Ryan's vetting out specific women—newly brokenhearted women. What type of monster has a developed preference of eating certain people?"
Dean's brows furrowed as he kept his eyes on the road. "Don't leave me hanging here, Sammy. Unless you're telling me it's an okami, it still don't make sense."
"No, that's exactly it! An okami!" Sam faced his brother, the sudden revelation giving him a renewed energy and focus.
Dean glanced over at Sam. "Okami don't just nibble on the kidney glands like they're starving models; they eat the entire body."
Sam sighed. "See, that's the thing. Maybe because of that detail, we've been looking at this the wrong way. Maybe some okami have developed a… a specific palate in addition to their preference of human. There has to be some record of it in the archives somewhere."
Dean yawned. "All right. Finally sounds like we're making some headway here."
"Yeah," Sam said with a sigh. He glanced over at Dean. "You've been yawning all day. Didn't get enough sleep?"
Dean straightened in his seat as an image of Castiel in her sleepwear flashed in his mind. He cleared his throat and readjusted his grip on the wheel. "It got hot."
"Yeah, with the sudden heat spike overnight and you having to share a bed with Cas. I forgot that he needs to sleep now. We should make some arrangements, take shifts or something. Want me to share the bed with him tonight?"
"Let's not make any hasty decisions about that right now," Dean was quick to say. "Just wait till the time comes."
"Uh, okay?" Sam said with a quirked brow. "Wait, did something happen between you two?" he asked, glancing over at Dean.
"What? No!"
"You just made it sound like something might have happened—"
"Nothing happened, got that!"
"All right, all right." Sam glanced at his brother warily.
"Just out of respect for our friend Cas," Dean turned to his brother with annoyance before focusing back on the road, "it'd be better that we give him his own bed."
"What? Because he's a woman right now?"
"Exactly that."
"He's still Cas—"
Dean turned to Sam. "Don't tell me that when you look at him now, you still see that awkward and scruffy trench coat wearing nerd."
"I mean, in essence, he is—"
"Even when we walked in on him in his birthday suit?"
"I, uh… yeah," Sam nodded and cast his gaze down. "Yeah."
"Exactly." Dean focused back on the road.
"We'll give him his own bed." Sam nodded, finally in agreement.
~Å~
Castiel finished her popsicle before she entered the motel parking lot. She tucked the wooden stick in the bag that held her foil wrapped hot dog.
"Well, look at you," a man said from behind her, "all dolled up."
Castiel stopped and rolled her eyes. "Frankly, I'm getting really tired of this—" she said, turning around. Her eyes grew round and her voice caught in her throat. "…Tabbris."
"Hello, Castiel." He smiled. "I agree; I'm getting a little weary, myself," he said, taking a step towards her.
Castiel froze. She held Dean's jacket closer and felt for her angel blade through the fabric.
"Though, I must say, this look really suits you." Tabbris passed a sweeping glance over her. "Better than that old thing you had on before. Much better than how that two-bit demon wore it," he added with a flippant wave of his hand. "Say, wasn't this your first vessel? Why'd you ever decide to change? You're much easier on the eyes, now, brother. Or should I say 'sister'?" He chuckled softly.
Castiel clutched the sleeve of her jacket. "You followed me?"
"From the way things were left, I thought we could sort things out, meet at a middle ground. What do you say? I'm sure there's some wiggle room, hmm?"
"You're more persistent than a pushy saleswoman but with nothing to sell."
The twinkle from Tabbris' eye faded and his lips drew into a line. "I thought it'd be different with you, considering the things that you've seen. You would have had your own army to command, Castiel!"
"Thanks, but no thanks; I've already got a crew. It's called 'Team Free Will'."
Tabbris let out a low hiss below his breath. "When push comes to shove," he raised his hand and snapped his fingers, "I somehow always have the misfortune of using the latter."
Castiel darted a glance to her left and right and spied two familiar figures coming from the shadows.
"All you have to say is 'yes' and we'll drop this in an instant."
Tabbris' angel and demon cronies loomed closer.
"Why don't you shove it up your butthole, you douche nozzle." Castiel's gaze was unflinching.
Tabbris clenched his jaw. "Use any means necessary until he submits."
The demon's eyes flicked black and he grinned. "With pleasure."
The angel dropped her blade into her hand and trailed her stony gaze over Castiel's new form. "Wouldn't say he's much of a challenge, now."
Castiel lowered the sleeve of her jacket, allowing her blade to fall freely. With a swift kick, her shoe connected with the hilt, causing the blade to shoot up in front of her. She snatched at it in midair and was quick to swivel it in her hand. She held the edge out, her stance guarded and ready for attack.
The three squared off with each other, each watching to see who would make the first move.
Castiel's blue eyes swung between the angel and demon like a pendulum. When they remained stationary, she made the decision to set things in motion by casting Dean's jacket and her uneaten hot dog towards them.
The demon swatted them aside as Castiel dashed off in the other direction.
She needed a little time. Dean and Sam were bound to be on their way, but she couldn't solely rely on them. She had to get to the holy oil she'd seen stashed away in Dean's duffle bag.
She glanced over her shoulder to see the demon hot on her heels.
He swung at her.
Castiel ducked forward. With that sudden movement, her momentum was thrown off, allowing the angel to reach her to deliver the first blow.
Castiel blocked, causing their blades to clang and reverberate like tuning forks when they collided. Metal scraped against metal as she wrestled with the strength of her opponent. It was a battle she was losing, her shaking arms giving way as their weapons drew closer to her body. With a decisive move, Castiel finally broke the connection and jumped back. But she was far from being in the clear.
What little distance she had made from the angel, she lost with the demon. He pounced at her after her brief seconds of struggle and successfully clipped her on the side of the head. Castiel staggered on her feet as a sharp ringing filled her ears. When she finally raised her head, she was greeted by the smirking demon and a backhand across the face. She stumbled as she tried to recentre herself, only to be struck again on the other side. Then again. And again. The demon smiled gleefully at the handiwork he had made of Castiel's swollen and split lip.
Castiel finally crumpled to the ground with a low moan, her angel blade nearly slipping from her grasp. The demon hoisted her limp body up from behind as her head lolled around, trying to make sense of her environment. When she realised the position she was in, her eyes grew wide and she jolted upright, but only yielded an amused chuckle from behind her.
She gritted her teeth as she struggled in the demon's hold, her arms being held down in place. Finally taking a moment to breathe, she grew still and quickly switched gears. Instead of working against him, she moved in towards his form, allowing her a little more wiggle room for her elbow. Castiel inclined her head before snapping it back into the demon's face, this time hearing a bone-crunching pop and a snarl; his grip loosened just enough that she could raise her arm. Swivelling her angel blade towards her, Castiel extended her elbow as high as it would go before driving it down into the body behind her. The demon howled and his hold finally fell free from Castiel as he collapsed to the ground.
With the back of her hand, Castiel gingerly wiped the blood at the corner of her lip and winced.
"And then there were two," said the other angel.
Castiel exhaled sharply before turning to her. She knelt down and yanked her blade out from the demon's abdomen before standing, her eyes all the while fixed on her former kin. "So, when Tabbris says 'jump', you jump?" She grimaced through the pain. "Inviting unknown entities to command our world, and believing there won't be any repercussions, is like walking blind into ongoing traffic."
The angel scoffed. "Oh, 'course you'd say that. We're all in this damned mess because of you!"
Castiel lowered her eyes for a split second before glancing back up at her.
"Tabbris saved me. After The Fall, it was a miracle that I had even survived; my wings were barely intact. Months led to years, suffering at the hands of God's precious humans. Being used and beaten. Let me tell you, Castiel, all they do is lie, consume, and reap the benefits of others to better themselves." Her eyes were hard, the knuckles on her blade clenched white. "When the day came that Tabbris found me and restored my grace and powers, I returned the pain and misery to them tenfold." She laughed bitterly. "So, if he wants me to 'jump', I'll jump."
Castiel's brows furrowed as she watched her. How was she to judge when she'd done things far worse? "I'm sorry, Pamyel," Castiel said. "Life in this world can be challenging, and yes, some people are misguided, but not all are like that." Dean wasn't like that. Sam and Mary and Jody, they were all good people.
Pamyel scoffed. She shook her head and pointed her blade at Castiel. "You've been around them for too long. I should put you out of your misery. It would be an act of mercy." She lunged forward as Castiel sidestepped out of the way, her blade just skimming the ends of her hair.
Castiel stood away at a healthy distance, mirroring Pamyel's steps as she circled her. "Being on Earth amongst them has taught me more about humanity than what I could ever be told. I've learned that people are terribly flawed, make more mistakes more often than not, and act on their emotions."
"So, you agree. Then why are you still resisting?"
"Yes, they're flawed, some even beyond screwed up, but they learn from their misgivings and grow. They forgive. They act out of compassion. And at their bleakest moments, they still try." Castiel's brows creased together. "I love them, and you better believe they're damned worth fighting for."
Pamyel laughed. "Are you declaring you'd die for them?"
"Yes." Castiel stared her in the eye. "I have before, and I would again."
"Lucky me, I'm the one to send you to your grave this time." Pamyel moved towards her again, this time slicing into Castiel's exposed shoulder.
Castiel let out a cry and instinctively clutched at her wound as she shuffled back. She didn't have time to tend to it when the next second she had her blade raised, deflecting Pamyel's follow through. Blood dripped down Castiel's arm as it lay limp and useless at her side. Being human and powerless had already set her back at a disadvantage, but fighting one-handed would only ensure her opponent a quicker defeat. She didn't know when Sam and Dean would be back, but she refused to give up. If she didn't survive that battle before their return, they'd at least know she'd died fighting.
Castiel was getting winded; the muscles in her arms burned and ached. She wasn't used to this. As a soldier of the Lord, she could fight for days on end without fatigue. Now, she could barely last two minutes. This ultimately led to Pamyel slashing at her abdomen. Castiel moaned and hunched forward as she clutched at her side; blood oozed from between her fingers.
Without a moment to regroup, Castiel felt Pamyel's fingers curl around her throat, ceasing her panting.
"You've grown so weak. What happened to 'God's Chosen'?" Pamyel said, drawing her face closer. "Now look at the state you're in." Her gaze roamed Castiel's form. "Human."
Castiel stared up at her with bleary eyes. With her blade raised, she made a feeble attempt at striking her, but Pamyel caught her wrist before she had even moved.
"Ah, ah," Pamyel said in a disapproving tone. She took hold of Castiel's blade and tossed it to the side. It slid several feet away from them before resting at Tabbris' feet.
With blood stained fingers, Castiel tried to pry Pamyel off her neck.
"You're suffering a great deal, aren't you? I could make it stop. Would you like that?" Pamyel inched her blade closer towards Castiel's face.
"That's enough, Pamyel," Tabbris said, causing her to pause midair. He stepped up to her side. "I want him docile, not dead."
Pamyel stared hard at Castiel, her fingers still curled around her neck and her blade still pointed at her face. After a couple of long seconds, she finally dropped her hold and lowered her arm.
Castiel slumped down in a heap, gasping and coughing as she clutched at her throat. She hadn't even noticed that Pamyel had moved aside, leaving Tabbris in her place.
"Oh, Castiel," Tabbris said with a sigh, "what am I to do with you?" He crouched down in front of her and clasped his hands together. "Ooh, that doesn't look so good." He glanced at the growing red at her midsection. "Seems like Pamyel was playing a little too hard to your liking, hmm? I'm not sure you'll be around here much longer if you don't get that nasty little cut looked at soon."
Castiel's breathing was ragged. Clutching her side, she dug her heels into the ground and slowly pushed herself away from him.
Tabbris laughed. "Stubborn, are we?" He stood and laced his fingers behind his back, taking his time as he closed the gap between them again.
Castiel had broken out into a cold sweat, but she was shivering. Having lost so much blood muddled her senses—her vision darkening and her hearing muffled. She blinked slowly and looked up to see Tabbris' darkened figure in front of her before his smiling visage seeped back into her vision.
He snapped his fingers in her face. "Are you still following me, Castiel?"
She continued to weeze, but she held eye contact with him.
"So, if this continues at this rate, you'll be dead, in, let's say… five minutes. Humans need blood, and you've left a lot of that lying about." He glanced behind them to see a trail of red on the ground where she'd dragged herself. He turned back around and faced her. "And I certainly don't want you dead; the whole point was to get you on my side. Now," he raised his hand, "now that you're not whipping that pointy toy around and throwing a fit, we can have a proper conversation. You'll listen to reason—after."
Castiel was helpless to do anything else but watch Tabbris place his fingers to her head. But it wasn't what she had expected. He had healed her.
She blinked. Her pain had vanished and her breathing wasn't laboured anymore; clarity had returned to her mind. Castiel lowered her eyes as she tried to rationalise his actions.
"Better?" Tabbris asked.
Castiel's brows scrunched together as she raised her gaze to him. "Why?"
"Help him up, Pamyel." A smile played on Tabbris' lips. "And trust me, you're going to need it."
Coming forward, Pamyel hoisted Castiel up by the arm with less grace. Castiel opened her mouth in protest, only to be assaulted by a wave of dizziness. She moaned softly as she closed her eyes and leaned into the angel's dependable grip.
"A bit of a headrush there?" Tabbris asked.
Castiel opened her lids almost mechanically and stared at him like she'd been drugged.
"Well, I may have healed your wounds, but I didn't bother so much about replacing the volume of blood you'd lost. I need to keep you complacent till I'm sure you've chosen the right path." He took a step forward and stood in front of her. "So, I'm going to give you one last chance to pick your destiny: will you join us in building a new Heaven? Or no?"
Castiel took a few shallow breaths before speaking: "Bite me." She kept her steely gaze on Tabbris as she witnessed his little smirk wipe clean off his face.
He leaned in towards her. "I'm being charitable, Castiel; I'm practically giving you a lifeline and you're throwing it away!" he hissed heatedly.
Castiel swallowed. She knew it; this was the end for her. It didn't matter how many times she'd already died. Each moment before she drew her last breath, she was faced with the things she regretted that she'd never said. Done. Because with death, heaven wasn't waiting for her, she was leaving it behind.
"But no worries," Tabbris said after a calming breath, "you'll still play in our favour."
Castiel looked to him in confusion.
Tabbris pulled away only to pause, the sound of a ringing cell phone having punctuated his intense and foreboding speech.
All three listened as it continued, the expression on Tabbris' face growing more annoyed, and Pamyel keeping a stern brow despite feeling awkward. Castiel looked down and it finally dawned on her. Reaching into the pocket of her skirt, she pulled out the burner phone and frantically flipped it open.
~Å~
"Cas, Sam's complaining about the amount of greasy diner food we've been eating all our lives," Dean said, turning to Sam as he emphasised those last four words. Dean held the steering wheel with one hand and his convenience store pepperoni stick in the other. He took a bite of it. "He wants to try something more family friendly—"
"Dean!" Castiel's cry filled the space of the Impala before a snap was heard. Then silence.
"Cas?" Dean knew he'd already lost connection, but he couldn't help but call out to her. "Cas!"
~Å~
Tabbris clutched the burner phone and wagged it in Castiel's face. "That was deceitful of you."
Castiel slouched forward and moaned when Pamyel twisted her arm from behind.
"'Dean.' He's that Winchester of yours, right?" Tabbris smiled, but it was anything but friendly. "We'll deal with him later." He clenched his fist, breaking the burner phone into bits and pieces as it fell scattered at his feet.
Castiel's eyes widened before she struggled against the angel's vice grip. "Please," she breathed heavily, "don't. Don't hurt him."
Tabbris let out a chuckle as he withdrew from her slowly. "Now, where were we?" He closed his eyes momentarily as he began to chant something softly.
It wasn't Enochian or Latin, or any recognisable human language, but Castiel did recognise it to be a summoning spell.
Spying a glimmer not far from them, she felt a pull then a crackle of static in the air as a form began to take shape and solidify. It was spectre-like with dried dusty skin and hollowed cheeks. Its emaciated appearance was only amplified by the large and sunken sockets where a pair of sickly greyish yellow eyeballs lay nestled, its irises clouded over in pale blue. Deep wrinkles radiated from around its shrivelled mouth, a line with non-existent lips that remained silent and just as commanding. Where its nose should have been lay a crevice, making it appear even more ghoulish. The summoned entity was covered in a hooded shroud, the length of it falling in tatters and strips that just draped the ground as it hovered in midair, the lower half of its extremities seeming to be missing.
Castiel didn't know what to make of it. She had never seen anything of its kind before nor heard of anything that had remotely resembled it.
Tabbris uttered a string of choice words and the entity hovered forward towards Castiel before planting its hand over her face.
Castiel's mouth was muffled against its parchment skin; she breathed heavily, smelling earth, dust, and rot. Her eyes grew wide as she stared deep into the blue hazed ones of her executioner, unemotional and lifeless. With another command from Tabbris, the shrouded entity curled its spider-like fingers over Castiel's face and head, securing her tight.
A/N: What a shitty way to leave things off, right? After not updating for several months, I do this to you all, again. I really do hope I'll update this a lot sooner now that I have this major cliffhanger… hanging over your heads.
Honestly, I've had a mixed bag of things happen to me—damn writer's block, constipated writing on several scenes, particularly the fight scene and ending. I left that part for a good couple months, would come back to it, reread, and nitpick at it. Well, I'm just glad I persisted, and now I've finally finished this chapter. Other than the good ol' 'block, I've had health issues out of nowhere. My summer was shit. The song 'Fight The Good Fight' was also something I'd listen to often during this period of my life; I had to remind myself to fight. And when you're in constant pain, it is so hard to be optimistic, that things will eventually get better. I'm better now, but not out of the woods. And in other news, I'm going to have a change in my work life. Things have just changed so drastically this past week. I'm hoping that in the next month, I'll have more time to write. And draw (I haven't done that in over two years and that makes me terribly sad).
But enough about me.
I was a bit hesitant about writing those experiences that Cas has as a woman. Then I came across a post when someone asked Jensen Ackles at one panel what he'd do if he had the opportunity to be a woman. His answer was he'd just walk out on the street so that he could experience what it was like to feel what most women experienced when they were objectified. And that was it. It made total sense that Cas would experience all those things. I didn't want to shine a light on that subject just because he was in a woman's body, but frankly, it would be unavoidable for him/her. Castiel's going to learn what it's like to be a woman, good and bad.
There are a few foreshadow-y things I've slipped in here, too. Did you spot them? (Hope they weren't too glaring.)
Oh, I should have mentioned before, but Tabbris' face claim is Avan Jogia (since I was planning to post this on my Tumblr but didn't). I think I sorta hear him speaking with a British accent? Do you pick that up with the way he chooses his words and his syntax? As for Pamyel's model, I'm not too sure yet. Your imagination is your best friend right now.
And with October just a few weeks away, the new season is about to start, and the SPN con is coming to my town. Checking up on their ticket prices makes me weep. I… I just want to meet Misha Collins….
Thanks for sticking around and reading.
—B.
