Title:The Road of the Damned (4/?)
Rating: M. Violence, blood and gore kids!
Pairings: None this chapter
Genre: Horror/Drama
Spoilers: None this chapter
A/N: Now I've finished with other projects, I'll be updating this fic more regularly that inspiration has struck :) (I hope haha!) thanks for sticking with it!
The ride to Bobby's would take more than a day.
The four men spent a tense first night stuffed together in the car, Dean too jumpy to risk sleeping out under the stars. His fears were well founded, shortly after they settled down a distant pack could be heard howling and screeching into the night. Even the talkative Gabriel was silent, shifting closer to Castiel in the backseat as Dean muttered unhappily.
Any other small talk the next morning withered beneath Dean's glare, and even Sam decided not to push it and spent the rest of the day quietly watching the countryside pass by the Impala's window.
That night they pulled into an abandoned gas station the Winchesters frequently used. Symbols and wards had already been painted on the crumbling brick walls and along the linoleum floors, but Dean checked them all, adding a new coat to the ones that seemed too faded. Gabriel watched him, leaning against one of the old gas pumps.
"Dude is one thorough son of a bitch, I'll give him that."
Sam paused, glancing towards the angel. He had been unpacking the Impala's meager supplies, hoping to refill their almost empty water canister. He handed the last box to Castiel, who struggled to keep everything in his arms.
"And he's saved my ass more times than I can count," Sam remarked, slamming the trunk closed. "You can never be too careful these days."
Gabriel shrugged, pushing away from the pump. "I guess."
Glass crunched underfoot as Sam headed towards the store, motioning for Castiel to follow. The inside of the gas station was as derelict and ruined as the outside, empty cans and wrappers strewn amongst the wrecked shelves. The place had been hit by bandits long before the brothers found it, but Sam dutifully checked all the cracked shelves and drawers just in case. Gabriel leant over the counter, glancing at the broken cash register spewing dollar bills across the floor.
"It's different seeing it," he said quietly. He pulled away from the counter, shooting a look towards Castiel, who set down the box of supplies on the dusty counter top. The other angel merely shook his head sadly.
"Not what you expected?" Sam asked, finishing his stock check and joining them. His boots churned the debris on the floor, and he kicked an old rusty can. "Bet it probably looks a little different from up there on your cloud, strumming your harp."
Gabriel laughed, genuine and loud. The sound startled a group of rats that scurried out from under the counter, skittering around Sam's feet towards safer cover.
"You have no idea. I was the master of harp strumming and cloud fluffing."
Castiel rolled his eyes in exasperation, giving his brother a playful shove.
"Gabriel we did not have harps. Don't misinform Samuel."
Gabriel sighed heavily and Sam hid a smile.
"Why couldn't I have stuck with the brother with a sense of humor?" Gabriel said morosely, clapping the back of hand against his forehead. "No, I got stuck with Castiella the bore."
Sam rummaged through the box of supplies Castiel had set down, pulling out a few cans of food and setting them on the counter. He could still hear Dean stomping around outside, reapplying the wards where it was needed and kept a trained ear on his brother, just in case.
"So you're brothers then?" he asked, grimacing unhappily as he noticed one of the cans had leaked. "I didn't think angels had that sort of thing. Not that I'm exactly knowledgeable on you."
Gabriel hopped up onto the counter, swinging his legs like a kid. "So to speak. Technically we're all brothers and sisters. Cut from the same lousy bit of cloth so they say."
Sam grabbed a torn rag from his coat pocket, trying to clean up the mess. "But you're here. And they're not."
Gabriel's legs stopped swinging, his eyes losing their glimmer of play.
"Yeah. Here we are," he said miserably. Castiel touched his knee gently, murmuring something too low for Sam to hear.
The shuffling outside stopped, the store door squeaking open. The little bell was still intact, and it chimed happily as Dean stomped inside, tossing the cans of spray paint into the box as he passed.
"Wards are up," he ground. "Sun'll be setting soon. Anyone who has to take a leak should do it now. No-one goes out there after dark, capisce?"
Gabriel saluted him, sliding off the counter in a cloud of dust. "You got it, Don Winchester."
Dean glared over at Castiel. The angel was staring at him, head cocked to one side.
"That means you too, feathers," Dean growled.
Gabriel snagged his brother's arm, dragging him towards the door. "Come on, kiddo. Let's let the Winchesters have their grunting and posturing time."
The bell tinkled again, the door closing behind the two. Sam tossed the soiled rag onto the counter angrily.
"Dammit Dean, acting like a goddamn caveman isn't helping anything!" he hissed, keeping his voice down as he listened to the angels move around the side of the building. "We've got two actual angels with us. Angels, Dean! Warriors of God!"
Dean kicked at the same can Sam had targeted earlier.
"Come off it, Sam!" he shot back fiercely. "They're not angels; they're sad delusional weirdos you just took pity on."
Sam made a noise of annoyance, throwing his hands in the air.
"Whatever. You want to be pissy and broody, fine. I'm actually going to try and find out what they know. They said they were looking for us, Dean. Like it or not, we're involved somehow."
Dean jabbed an angry finger towards his brother, eyes promising violence. "We're not involved in jack-shit! The sooner you get that into your bony head Sam, the sooner we can-"
The bell jingled, the door slamming open to bounce off the wall. Gabriel leant in, eyes wide.
"Guys, I don't mean to interrupt your bonding, but there's something out here."
The four men stood huddled by the gas pumps, eyes straining in the dim light. The sun was slipping below the horizon, casting an eerie red glow over the trees. It would be night soon, and God knew what lurked in the forest.
Dean held his revolver in hand, squinting down the barrel into the shadows beyond the gas pumps. "See anything?"
Sam stood a few feet away, shotgun hoisted up into the crook of his arm. He shook his head.
"No." He glanced over towards Gabriel, who was huddled close to Castiel. "You sure you saw something?"
Gabriel scanned the dark nervously, shifting from foot to foot.
"I heard it, didn't see it. Something kind of big shuffling around."
Dean dropped his revolver, tapping it impatiently against his thigh.
"Well then it was probably a deer or something," he said impatiently. "Suppose we could try catching it for din-"
Something rustled in the dark. All four men jumped, Dean snapping his revolver back up to eye level. Sam followed something with his shotgun, and there in the shadows, something seemed to separate from the trees.
"Easy," Dean muttered out the side of his mouth. "Don't shoot unless you have to, it'll bring more things running."
Castiel leant forward, staring intently into the darkness, and Dean reached out to grab a fistful of the old sweatshirt the angel now wore, fingers digging in hard.
"Are you stupid?" he hissed, yanking the angel back towards him. "Get behind me you idiot, before you get killed!"
Gabriel batted his eyes towards him. "Aww Dean-o, it's almost like you care."
Dean released Castiel immediately, muttering. He could feel the angel's gaze boring holes into him, but amazingly the angel listened, shuffling back a few paces so he was behind the hunter.
Sam pointed over towards the left, at a clump of overgrown bushes.
"I think it's over there," he said lowly, shotgun ready. "I saw movement."
Dean scanned the bush, nerves strummed tight. Gabriel's breathless laugh made him jump, finger almost squeezing on the trigger. The angel shook his head with a smile, touching Sam's arm to lower the shotgun.
"It's alright, false alarm everyone."
The shuffling moved closer, paired with a snuffling sound. Dean gritted his teeth, refusing to back down.
"How the hell do you know that?" he growled. "I can't see shit."
Castiel leaned in close to Dean's shoulder, and the hunter resisted the sudden urge to elbow him in the face.
"Be at ease, it is merely an animal."
Sure enough, no monster came lunging out of the bush. A mutt slunk free of the vegetation, ears back and tail between its legs as it moved into sight.
A shepard mix, it was painfully skinny, ribs sliding beneath its paper-thin skin and patchy fur. Amber eyes watched them fearfully, and it whined, dropping its belly to the ground as it came closer.
Sam grinned, relaxing. "It's a dog!"
He crouched down, making soft noises as he offered his hand. The dog didn't come any closer, halting a few feet away and whining. Dean eyed it shrewdly, but relaxed slightly, dropping his tense stance.
"Careful, Sam," he warned. "Could have rabies or some shit."
Sam ignored him, shuffling a little closer to the dog.
"Here, boy. We won't hurt you," he crooned. Amazingly, the dog responded, skinny tail thumping the ground hopefully. It wiggled closer, keeping its belly low to the ground as it zeroed in on Sam.
Castiel smiled, still standing too close. "He is merely hungry. He poses no threat."
Dean sighed unhappily as he watched Sam finally reach the dog. The mutt went crazy with glee, tail wagging at super speed as it struggled to cover Sam in disgusting dog kisses, making half-hearted yips of excitement.
"We barely have enough for us!" Dean tried to protest. "Another mouth to feed is not what we need right now, Sam. Sam?...Sammy?"
But his brother was lost, completely enamored with the dirty mutt's charms. The giant girl had wrapped his arms around the dog's neck, still making ridiculous baby noises as the dog tried desperately to lick him to death.
Dean knew a lost battle when he saw one, and muttered to himself.
Noticing his dark mood, Castiel cleared his throat.
"Perhaps we should all go inside," the angel suggested. "It will be too dark to see shortly."
Sam nodded, straightening, and the dog pranced around him, front legs spanking the earth excitedly.
"You wanna come too?" Sam crooned down at it, and the dog barked happily. "Yes you do! Yes you do!"
Dean rubbed his temples, stomping back towards the safety of the store.
"How many strays can we pick up in a day?" he muttered.
They settled in for the night in a back office. It was small and cramped, but bigger than the Impala, and Sam stretched his legs out gratefully. His new furry friend had squirmed down between his outstretched legs, burrowing under the tattered blanket Sam had claimed as his. It fell asleep like that, ribcage rising and falling as it snuffled against Sam's feet. Closer inspection had revealed it really was a boy, and probably some sort of German Shepard mix. Sam loved dogs, always had. The ones back at the Roadhouse that Bobby kept weren't exactly friendly, so Sam had missed being around one that could be petted.
"Whatcha gonna call it?"
Sam jumped a little, but the dog didn't stir. Gabriel lay on his side, head propped on one hand. Sam chuckled, patting the dog lump on his legs.
"I was thinking Lucky. It's not just any dog who could survive on his own this long."
Gabriel nodded slowly, watching the blanket rise and fall with Lucky's breathing. His expression was strangely unreadable. "Yeah. Not just any dog."
He then flopped onto his back, stretching his arms over his head. "Lucky is a good name. I think he likes it."
Castiel was curled into an uncomfortable looking ball on Gabriel's right, squished up against the wall. The angel was apparently fast asleep, as still and silent as a corpse. Dean on the other hand was sprawled over by the door, mouth wide open and snoring. Sam shook his head at his brother.
"He'll come around," he said outloud, and Gabriel glanced towards him. "You just…have to give him time."
Understanding they weren't talking about the dog anymore, Gabriel nodded absently.
"Hey I get it. Two weird guys turn up randomly and announce they're angels…" he shrugged. "I'd be suspicious too."
Sam shifted his legs slightly, and Lucky growled in his sleep.
"So why are you here? Why find us?"
Gabriel shrugged at the ceiling. "That's a conversation I think we need to have with this Bobby you're talking about. If he's as awesome as you've said."
Sam smiled. "He is. We grew up with him, closest thing we have to a Dad now, I guess. Helped us out more than a few times. If anyone knows anything about everything, it's Bobby."
Gabriel was staring at the far wall. Once this had been someone's personal office, and some photos were still stuck up on the grimy wall. They were faded and the edges curled and yellowed, but proudly displayed two kids, a boy and a girl. Someone's kids. Sam wondered if they were still out there somewhere.
"Sounds nice. To have something to go home to," Gabriel said quietly.
"And you don't?"
The question hung in the air, the photos staring down at them both. Finally Gabriel shook his head, tilting his head towards the sleeping Castiel.
"Not anymore."
Sam left it at that, settling lower down under the ratty blanket. With Lucky a warm weight along his legs and Dean's snores in the background, he eventually settled into a peaceful sleep.
He dreamed of wings.