A/N: Thank you to those who reviewed. I didn't get as far as I intended again this time, but that's because this part of the plot took up more space than planned. I have managed to get a few more explanations in this chapter, but there's still some stuff I'm saving for later, so please bear with is also the first chapter I've typed and uploaded entirely on my phone, because I can't afford the wifi fees in this hotel, so apologies if there are more mistakes in this than usual.

Points this week are for anyone who figures out what t-shirt Cristina is wearing (first clue's in chapter one).

Chapter Three – Flight

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"He will damage that here delays; Let him beware too light that weighs." – The Chemical Wedding, Day One
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There was the screeching of tyres as Dean put his foot to the floor, trying to get the car moving as quickly as possible. It sped out of its parking spot and down the street, before Dean spun the wheel to turn left and join one of the larger roads that ran through Boston.

In the back, Cristina clenched her fists in fright at the reckless driving, still trying to wrap her head round what was happening. "Oh hell, am I being kidnapped?" she squeaked out quietly, realising that seemed to be the case.

The sound of police sirens was getting louder now, and she supposed the cops had been called to see to whatever commotion was happening at her apartment. Part of her hoped that they would come looking for her and the car would get intercepted, then they'd take her home and everything would turn out alright, but she knew that was unlikely. Whatever was going on here, she could tell it was much bigger than anything the police could solve.

The black car was still speeding as it rounded another corner in the direction of the harbor, taking it past Cristina's block again as Dean tried to navigate in the direction that led out of the city. As it did so, the blue flashing lights of a squadron of police cars came into view, and Sam put up a hand, "Dean, ease up."

Dean glanced at him but the car only slowed down slightly. "We need to get out of here quickly, Sam," he retaliated with a sense of urgency.

"And that won't happen if you get the cops' attention," Sam explained. "Just...try and drive normally, for once."

Taking his brother's point, Dean braked rather hard, and instead began to ease the car more steadily forwards. He was still intent on taking this route, but as he drove onwards, it seemed that the rest of the traffic in this area was being held up or diverted while the force cars formed a blockade. As he figured out what was going on, Dean looked anxiously at the line ofpolice cars several yards in front of them. Assuming it was the angel melee that had escalated and attracted this attention, several streets from where it started, going that way wasn't a good idea.

"Dammit," Dean growled, looking behind him in search of another way he could take the car. Fortunately, this wasn't the busiest of roads and there wasn't much traffic around them, but his unfamiliarity with the city rendered him lost when his intended escape route had been blocked off.

"We can go back the way we came," Sam said, trying to keep his cool. "Just reverse out of the street; there'll be another way to get to the highway."

"Yeah, but we have to get there quickly. We can't risk getting lost in the city." Dean had a look of deep concentration on his face as he tried to figure out and recall directions, but Cristina was more concerned with what was happening in front of them. She squinted at the cop cars, trying to see what was going on. If this was to do with the fight at her apartment, she wanted to know how it ended, or at least properly see what it was that was fighting.

A moment later, however, she regretted thinking that. A flash of white light suddenly erupted in the sky above them, and Cristina thought she saw the silhouettes of wings flicker in the clouds as it was accompanied by a rumbling clap of thunder.

Dean swore, realising what that signified. They had to get moving. Urgently, he slammed the car into reverse then handbrake turned it round to face the other direction with a screech of the tyres, and the car sped off again.

"Alright, how the fuck do I get out of here?" he exclaimed angrily to the world in general. He was frowning at the maze of streets in front of him, clearly unfamiliar with the city's layout and looking lost and frustrated, and then decided to just take a guess and took the next turn on the left. The result was they found themselves speeding down a short street terminating in a T-junction.

"Right!" Cristina shouted, sounding panicked.

Startled by her sudden contribution, Dean glanced momentarily back at her. "What?"

"Next right," she repeated. "Unless you want to end up like a crate of tea, go right at the end of the street!" He swung the car round the corner as she instructed, and Cristina seemed to let out a sigh of relief. "Harbor's on the left, highway's this way, if you just keep going."

It took her a moment or two after saying that to realise she'd just given them directions to the highway. Am I enabling my kidnappers now? She didn't have much time to dwell on that, however, before the light appeared again, this time seemingly directly above them, and a high pitched ringing sounded in her ears. It quickly grew so intense it hurt, and Cristina clapped her hands to her ears with a cry of pain as blood began to pool in her left ear. She felt the car begin to move even faster, as Dean stepped on it even harder to try and get away.

The noise lasted for several more seconds, so loud that Cristina thought her head might explode, but then it stuttered, dropping in pitch, and the light above them flickered and dimmed. All three people in the car chanced to look behind them for a second, and through the back window Cristina thought she saw more strange silhouettes flash against the clouds like lightning, receding into the distance. What the hell was that? Sceptical as she was, after everything that had happened tonight, Cristina thought she knew the answer. Raindrops were beginning to fall on the windows, and Cristina began to wonder if all thunderstorms were just angels fighting in Heaven.

Turning back round and breathing heavily, she caught sight of Dean looking at her in the rear view mirror. "You alright back there?" he asked, and she was surprised by how concerned he sounded.

That, however, wasn't enough to ease the confusion and terror that had gripped her. Although she wanted to scream at him that no, she wasn't alright, all she could manage was a small nod. He didn't respond to that except to nod back, and then turned his attention back to the road, focussed on getting them out of there now that the light and police sirens had faded.

None of them said another word until they'd left the city and merged with the highway, so that Dean's chaotic driving had settled into something more suitable for the five lanes of traffic they were now driving amongst.

With Cristina still silent in the back, Dean turned to Sam to ask him something quietly. "Can you try calling Cas? Make sure he got out okay?"

Sam took out his phone and tried making a call, but ended up just shaking his head and muttering, "No answer yet, Dean, but I'm sure he's fine. He'll check in when he can."

A look of anxiety crossed Dean's face and he swore under his breath, but said no more.

As she watched the interaction, Cristina got chance to study their faces better, or at least the view she could get from the back seat. Sam's right ear appeared to be bleeding slightly from the screeching noise earlier, although Dean seemed okay. However, there was something else bothering her about their appearances. A sense of familiarity was niggling at her, as if she recognised them from somewhere, but couldn't place it. She did know, however, that they scared her. Again, she found herself wishing she'd had chance to pick up her phone, then maybe she could at least try to call for help.

After a short while and feeling more assured that they'd gotten away successfully, Sam turned round to check on the girl who was audibly hyperventilating in the back. "Cristina, you okay?"

"'Okay's a relative term," she replied shakily, clearly indicating the answer was 'no'.

Sam looked at her in concern. "We're not gonna hurt you, Cristina," he said, trying to sound reassuring.

"No, but you did just kidnap me though," she snapped back, obviously not comforted and still very scared.

Sam glanced down, feeling bad that actually that was pretty much what they were doing, but Dean answered while keeping his eyes on the road.

"Sorry about that, Blue, but if it wasn't us, it'd be the angels, and believe me that would be worse. I know this whole thing sucks, but I promise we're trying to help you."

"Yeah?" Cristina remarked, her temper rising as she tried to get a hold on her fear. "So why don't you start with a fucking explanation?"

Sam and Dean glanced at each other, realising they did actually owe her that and wondering which of them was going to have to try and explain the whole complicated thing to her. As Dean was busy driving, Sam realised it was probably him. "Well," he began a little uncertainly, "We don't understand the exact details of it ourselves, but the thing is Cristina, you're important. Heaven has some kind of plan involving you. This is the Cliff's notes version here, but basically you're the descendant of a Prophet of the Lord from the Middle Ages, which makes you the intended Bride at the Chemical Wedding."

She gave him a frustrated stare. "And what the fuck does that even mean?"

"It means you've got a bunch of feathery sons of bitches on your ass," Dean inputted, "Because Heaven wants you to marry one of their own and create some kind of celestial union between Heaven and Earth or something, which is supposed to stop us from ever closing the Gates of Heaven."

For the second time that night, Cristina found herself confronted with the notion that she was supposed to marry, and again she was quick to respond in horror. "Whoa, wait. I'm not marrying anyone!"

"We don't want you to either," Sam replied, "That's why we're helping you get away..." but she wasn't ready to listen to him be reasonable. Instead, she was rambling giddily as all her thus far restrained panic and fear came pouring out.

"And that doesn't even make sense," she blurted out, "Even assuming I'm suspending all my disbelief for a moment, and overlooking all the other crazy stuff, why do you want to close the Gates of Heaven? Isn't Heaven supposed to be a good place?"

"Supposed to be, but you've met a couple of angels for yourself now," Dean answered as she stopped for breath, "Are they the kinds of people you'd want just walking round Earth and manipulating things however they like?"

She scowled back at him as he glanced at her in the rear view mirror. "Given they've never bothered me before today, I think I could have lived with that."

Realising Dean's approach wasn't making her feel any better, Sam took over again. "Look, I know how confusing this whole thing must be for you, but trust us, the angels don't have good plans. This Wedding was only ever meant to happen in the event of the Apocalypse, to rebuild the world afterwards and lead everyone to Paradise, but the Apocalypse never happened. We stopped it, so now if the Wedding goes ahead, it's going to do more harm than good. Now we just have to get you some place safe and stop them finding you before we can finish closing the Gates of Heaven."

There was silence for a few moments as he was met with Cristina's bewildered stare, while she tried to make sense of what he was saying. Eventually, she asked disbelievingly, "Did you just try and tell me you two stopped the Apocalypse?"

Unsure how to respond to her scepticism, Sam just said, "Um...yeah, we did."

She stared at him blankly for a couple more seconds then shook her head. "What the hell, man? You're both crazy."

At that, Dean decided to speak up again, "Look Blue, I know this must be a hell of a lot for you to take in, but-"

"Will you quit calling me 'Blue'?" she suddenly snapped at him. "It's Cristina; I'm not named after my friggin' choice of hairdye. If you're going to kidnap me could you at least be polite kidnappers?"

Dean was silenced for a moment, but looked a little amused by that response. It seemed that giddiness and getting mad at things was her way of coping with the situation. "Well, you're being kidnapped in 1967 Chevy Impala, if style counts for anything?" he said, trying to lighten the mood and put her more at ease, but it didn't seem to work.

She glared at the back of his head. "No, I can't say that it-" she began to remark, but her comment quickly turned into a startled squeal as someone literally materialised out of nowhere on the seat beside her.

She quickly scrambled over to press herself against the door, staring in confused terror at the newcomer. How the fuck...? To her further surprise, it was the man she'd seen earlier in her apartment - the one with the trenchcoat who'd told her to run, and she found herself growing even more bewildered.

His sudden appearance seemed to startle Dean as well, and the car swerved slightly as Dean caught sight of him in the rear view mirror. However, regaining control, Dean then asked immediately, "Cas, what happened? You okay?"

"I'm fine, Dean," the man replied calmly, his voice low and coarse. "We held them off, and Lydia is leading them on a false trail where they think they will catch up with you. Is the Bride safe?"

Before either Sam or Dean had chance to answer, Cristina had blurted out, "Dude, I'm right here, and no I don't feel particularly safe." As he turned his attention to her, she wished that she'd managed to control her panicked impulse and kept quiet, but his gaze was calm and curious.

"Don't worry, Sam and Dean are excellent hunters. They are more than capable of protecting you from Heaven," he said, apparently trying to be reassuring, but it just confused her further.

"What...?" she began, but realising how perplexed she was, Sam intervened.

"Cristina, this is Cas. He's an angel, but he's on our side."

She gaped at him. "What, so there's such thing as good angels now? Make your mind up."

"Don't get me wrong, ninety percent of the angels we've met are dicks," Dean replied, "But Cas is something of a rebel. He's helping us."

"Him and an angel called Lydia," Sam elaborated., "You saw her in the alleyway. She used to be in charge of a group of angels called the Party, who were responsible for organising the Wedding, but since the Apocalypse didn't go ahead as planned she believes the Wedding shouldn't either. Unfortunately, the others didn't agree, so she rebelled on her own. Now she's helping us out."

This was too much for Cristina to wrap her head around. Especially at the moment, as she was too distracted by the supposed angel sitting right next to her. She thought he looked more like an accountant than an angel, compared to the winged trumpeter she'd met earlier. "Right," she eventually muttered, overwhelmed.

"I can't stay long," Cas continued, "If the Party notice I've gone missing, they'll realise it's a decoy. I have to get back to Lydia soon to head them off, but I need to ensure they cannot find Cristina any other way."

Without warning, he then reached out to touch Cristina's shoulder. She was just beginning to shout, "Hey!" in protest, but it turned into an "Ow!" as a mild pang of pain shot through her chest. Then Cas withdrew his hand, and she scowled at him angrily. "The fuck was that?"

"I've engraved Enochian cloaking symbols on your ribs," he explained calmly, and her already wide eyes grew wider. "They'll prevent any angel from finding you, including me. Dean, if you need to contact me you'll have to use the cell phone," he finished, no longer addressing her.

"I know, Cas," Dean replied, in a tone of somebody who'd already said the same thing several times before, but was being patient nonetheless.

"I must get back," Cas said again, "I will try and make contact once we have completed the diversion." And then, just as suddenly as he'd appeared, he was gone, accompanied by the sound of what seemed to Cristina like quietly fluttering wings.

She just gawped at the recently vacated space where he'd been for a moment, then said, "That's the guy who's helping you?"

"Yeah," Dean replied. "I know his behavior may seem a little...off to you, maybe, but we can trust him."

Cristina grimaced, putting a hand to her ribs. "Well, I'd have appreciated a little warning before he did that."

"Sorry," Sam replied on Cas's behalf, "He's not great at dealing with people, but he means well. If it makes you feel better, we have the Enochian sigils too. It's the second time we've had them, actually. He'll remove them again once we're sure the danger's passed."

Cristina was still frowning discontentedly, trying very hard to keep up with all this but finding it a struggle. "Alright," she muttered, "Although you still owe me explanations on a lot of things. Why am I so special? Who the hell are you people? And what is this 'Chemical Wedding' people keep talking about?"

It was Dean who answered. "Honestly, the best person who can explain it all is Cas," he said, "Which he will. And Sam and I will try to tell you what we know, but first we need to get you to safety."

Dissatisfied, but perhaps marginally calmer now, Cristina scowled. "So can't you at least say where you're taking me?"

"We have a safe place in Kansas. It's a twenty four hour drive, but you're cloaked from the angels now, so it should be safe enough for us to break it up and stop at a motel tonight. We'll get there some time tomorrow."

That seemed like more bad news to Cristina, but she was helpless to do anything. Instead, she just sank back in her seat and let that sink in. So here she was, being kidnapped and dragged half way across the country by two guys who she didn't know if she could trust, at the same time being unsure if she could or even should escape, while creatures she hadn't thought existed were on her tail and she had no means of contacting anyone for help. Just great. Although it wasn't as if she had a clue what kind of help anyone could offer her in a situation like this. In a matter of a couple of hours, everything she thought she understood about the universe had been completely flipped on its head.

As Cristina contemplated that, she found herself staring down at her t-shirt, and it registered with her that the picture on it was that of an angel, of all possible things. She scowled at it, thinking that if she ever somehow got out of this and managed to get back home, this wasn't a shirt she would be wearing ever again.