Father Where Art Thou
Supernatural AU
Chapter Six: First Aid Kits Do Not Come with Schnapps
Castiel's POV
The hours just flew by after I'd returned to the pawn shop from my adventure to the Auto Salvage and too close for comfort episode with Dean's car combined with that strange shriek that had bombarded my senses so ruthlessly beforehand. When I tried to question Gabe about it, who seemed in a very sour mood even though it was a Saturday night, he merely brushed it off saying my powers could be going through a growth spurt and it was probably nothing. With a curt nod signaling the end of conversation he returned to his previous activity of sitting in his recliner and reading a book, or at least staring at the contents of the book since not once did I see his gaze actually wander across the black inked text lining the pages instead looking up every so often at the window as if watching for someone or something.
I tried my best to ignore it though and leave him alone. Gabriel could be tiring when mischievous and even just the slightest bit annoying on some instances when his pranks got out of hand but whenever he was in a bad mood like today, it was just better to let sleeping dogs lie if you catch my drift. Anna seemed to agree with me, doing her best to stay in her little corner counter in the clothes department the remainder of the evening, rarely walking to the front except for a few occasions and finally to hug me goodbye as I walked out to head over to the club for my night shift.
After the previous night's activities I'll be honest, I wasn't expecting anyone to drop by to light my way to the Chérubin. When the fifteen minutes of waiting at the street lamp were up, I went on my own way to the night club, the crescent moon sadly my only grinning companion. At the time when Balthazar had walked me there, my head ducked down staring at the shadows was no move of shyness or demure charm. I'd been studying the path there, every turn, crossover to another street and bump in the road all burning into my mind as I matched his idle small talk.
Originally, it was to ensure that I'd be able to safely get back to my simple living quarters at the end of the night and partially so I'd be spared my blackmailer's company the rest of this detainment I'd been caught in. However after the conversation shared with Casey, my thoughts were muddied and unclear. While I was still very cross with the man for threatening the safety of me and my friends after only having just met, once I inspected his bar much closer, my resolve to hate and resent lessened.
Casey withstanding, Balthazar worked and allied himself with some very dangerous unstable people, many of whom did not seem to hold him in high favor since only Casey had come to his aid after our confrontation. Even with all of her admirable qualities and spunky charm, the female bartender made it very clear though that if push came to shove she would choose flight over fight which did not bode well for Balthazar either. A drug dealer, an extremely vicious blonde and the daughter of one of Lucifer's highest representatives was only the beginning of his employee roster and now he could add me along with it.
Once I had made my rounds through the club, I realized with subdued depression that other than myself there were no others with ANGL employed at the club nor any hanging around as friends. I knew I'd always have Gabe and Anna to help me through my troubles when it came to my powers, kinks in my wings or trouble with bullies and even Mom and Jo for support at home but who did Balthazar have for any of that…? For all his confidence and swagger, the man seemed completely alone…
A very loud honk startled me out of my thoughts as a red Mustang rolled to a stop not two feet from me, the tinted window rolling back to reveal a very happy Casey, lips as red as the vibrant paint job pulled into an amused smirk. "Hey good looking, what's cooking? Cause it smells like you're stirring up some love stew~!" Smiling softly, I can never seem to help it around this woman, I walked closer and leaned down so I could chat with her, noticing offhand that she was not alone tonight. "When you're done writing your detailed narrative on bad pick-up lines, I believe I'll continue on my way to the bar Ms. Casey."
With a light scoff and rebuttal of any of my grievances on causing her to be late, Casey ushered me into the back seat, insisting that we could simply head to the club together. Her companion as it turned out was the man named Gil she had mentioned in our earlier conversations. Gil was a very gruff looking man with chiseled features and black hair that was just starting to get a gray dusting to it. The two had hit it off on a Catholic dating website, at this Casey winked, and had met in person on a date and many more after. That had been four years ago now with the two presently living together, Casey a bartender and Gil in the construction business.
Gil despite the whimsical introduction, did not seem all that happy to have me in the vehicle, the fact that Casey sidled into the backseat next to me not lightening his mood as he answered most of my questions with the short grunt, growl or short answer. "So I'm guessing Balthazar skipped out on you too tonight huh? Since I caught you walking down all by yourself" Looking up from the heavy glare I was receiving from Gil through the rearview mirror, I tilted my head confused earning an exaggerated sigh from Casey. "That man, he hasn't shown up at the bar all day. Gilly can you pull over here? We're low on gas anyways and if Peacock's leaving me with the Saturday night rush, I'm gonna need some smokes."
Just as she requested, Gil pulled over into the upcoming gas station, Casey getting out with a wink and giggle as she sauntered over to the counter. Before I could step out however, a very large strong hand took hold of my coat collar yanking me back into the car, Gil's face very grim. "Listen here pretty boy, I have no idea why Casey has taken such a shine to you, but mark my words. You so much as look at my woman funny, I will grind your scrawny ass into hamburger meat." A shudder worked its way down my back at the credible threat paired with the steely eyed stare Gil had fixed me with before I nodded my head quickly, voice strained from his hold on my jacket.
"Rest assured sir, I would never dream of betraying Ms. Casey's generous trust in such a way. B-Besides you'll find I am quite of the homosexual persuasion." My wordy response seemed to do the trick as the man released his grip on my coat, causing me to fall back into the stiff leather car seat. Truth be told I'm bisexual but really it's only half accurate. They are very pretty but I cannot deny that women are…very confusing to me.
His threat having done the trick, Gil reverted to a more solemn almost bashful form of himself I'd seen before when he was talking with Casey, hands tapping offhandedly on the steering wheel. "Oh, sorry about that then… Casey did tell me she was trying to hook you and…" When he caught the perplexed expression on my face, Gil smiled and let out a husky chuckle. "Never mind, I should really control my temper. Casey's always telling me I get too jealous."
Violent confrontation averted, we both stepped out of the car as Gil handled the pump, making decent conversation as numbers ticked by on the gas gage. Gil had been raised in a strict Catholic household and originally wanted to enter the monastery under heavy support from his mother. However after an overly publicized scandal landed his hometown church on the weekly news channel, he decided to choose a different line of work where he could do just as much good for the community. This being how he entered construction, Gil even told me through his work he'd already been to countries such as Africa and Brazil for projects overseas.
After numerous pleas and requests I got him to teach me a few phrases in both Portuguese and Swahili which he'd learned from his travels. Sadly though not too many people spoke either here in the good old U. S of A apparently, still in all I was very intrigued with the man, particularly his close tie with Casey. Gil was very blunt, straightforward and seemed like a good honest man and Ms. Casey was well…very frankly Ms. Casey. As the woman nearly skipped back with her desired cigarettes in hand, the ancient saying that opposites attract came into my mind. Maybe the love they had didn't come from knowing everything about one another, if Gil knew how loose Casey acted around the bar she'd certainly never work there again, or from agreeing on every single thing. Maybe it was something a bit deeper.
As we all entered the car again and after several attempts from Gil to get Casey to wear her seatbelt before finally leaning back and doing it himself, for some strange reason Balthazar came into my thoughts as I pondered the notion of opposites. With Casey's collective snippets of information along with my own personal deductions, we were nothing if not opposite. However as of yet our reaction had been quite the opposite as well. We didn't meet on spectacular terms the first day and I sort of punched him in the face then mixed him a drink the second time. I believe the older Winchester would classify this as a cluster fuck of different emotions running around.
Needless to say, I was more than happy to return to the simple task of working once we got to the club. Since it was Saturday, the club was packed with the lights flashing bright and loud music booming audibly from inside even as we drove up, Gil giving Casey a light pat on the hip as she slipped out. Getting a rather impressive kiss in return, the religious construction worker gave me a smile and a friendly wave before driving off as Casey locked and arm around mine walking towards the entrance.
Entering the building was a lot different from simply observing it from outside, the place seeming to bare an actual pulse of life as hoards of people swarmed the dance floors as the girls and a few men moved to the beat of the vociferous music blaring from multiple speakers.
Caught off guard by all the lights, sounds and sights I didn't notice we had even started moving towards the back of the club until I felt Casey let go of my arm to shove open a black door with a winged lion carved out of wood resting atop the frame overlooking those coming inside. The body of the beast was of a faded tan color but the wings themselves were tinted with what looked to be gold leaf. It very much reminded me of the Lion of St. Mark, a symbol of the city of Venice and it's patron saint, Mark the evangelist.
Upon stepping inside I was greeted with the smell of leather, honey and sandalwood…? as Casey rummaged through one of the cabinets near a worn out leather couch that was placed next to a nice hardwood desk. From I could see it was somebody's office and from the photographs and odd selection of books laid out across the shelves of the room, I assumed it was Balthazar's. Taking a closer look, I realized with quiet surprise that most of the books subjects settled on both a curious mixture of chemistry and biology. What is a night club owner doing with literature like this…?
A bit of Gabriel's wit breached my thoughts that the man probably kept such big imposing books around to make himself appear well read and attract women. Working away the smile that had come across at such a thought I looked back towards Casey as she had apparently found what she'd been looking for. "Ah here we go! Since you're now an official Le Petit Chérubin employee you'll need to look the part. On weekdays we can wear what we like but on weekends there is a dress code."
Remembering the scandalous outfits I had seen on the girls the previous night, my face paled and I considered making a run for it until she held up a simple black t-shirt with the club name on the front, giggling at my overly relieved expression. "Oh please, you're just a bartender Cas. We're not THAT generous to our customers here, if they want to see some skin they have to pay the dancers like everyone else." Thankful to whoever is the patron saint of bartenders that had no doubt spared me such an atrocity, I took the shirt checking the tag to make sure it was the right size.
Satisfied, I shrugged off my coat and turned around shrugging off my shirt to tug on the new one as Casey held my coat for me. Hearing a soft gasp behind me, I turned with the shirt already half way up my arms to peer at Casey whose gaze was now fully locked on my back. "What's the matter? You already saw them yesterday…" I remarked with a shrug as I fiddled more with the shirt looking for the hole to put my head through.
It was true, after she had sneaked a peek at my marks the day before I wasn't all that bashful about my wings now. I considered Casey my friend and after talking with her the other day I was confident enough to remain comfortable about this one aspect of myself around her. The same went for Gabe, Anna and Mom and Jo back home. As long as I knew I was accepted by them, I felt no real reason to hide what I was.
"Yeah I did but not in direct light…" I heard her move closer but jumped when I felt a hand touch my back, tracing along the intricate etched lines of my wings. "They really are beautiful, out of this world even. Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you, did I hurt them?" Since staying with my back to her was the only way of hiding the blush that had sprung across my face at the kind words of admiration coupled with the soothing touch, I shook my head and let the shirt slide back down my arms again so she could have a better look. "No, they're fine when they're in their sealed form like this. My skin gets oversensitive due to the marks and the bones underneath but other than that they can't be hurt unless I released the binding over them."
Casey was one of the only people I felt I could really trust around here so I didn't see the harm in telling her how it all worked. I'm guessing the gist of what I said was the same for Balthazar since it was very common for the marks of those with ANGL to be sensitive so it was probably all old news. "So it's true then…? You can bring them out of these…marks and really fly..?" Casey was speaking with such an enamored kind of trepidation as if the very wings she was observing right now could come alive any minute, I couldn't help but smile as I finally pulled the shirt fully over my head and down over my body covering the marks up, noticing offhand that Balthazar must've told her of what he saw in the courtyard that day.
"Yes I can but I won't be doing so tonight. Now then, since our boss seems to be absent what am I doing today?" Casey's face lit right up as she deposited my coat and shirt onto the leather couch, setting her purse to the side. "Well I won't scar you with bar keeping on Saturday night so you can wait tables and deliver people their drinks while I do the mixing."
Once I nodded in understanding we entered the madness outside the office once more, Casey having to shout through all the noise so I could hear her as we made our way to the bar. "Saturday night is crazy for us but nonetheless dangerous! There are a lot of people here with lots of cash and time on their hands so just keep cool and you'll do fine, Oh and ID everyone! I don't care if they look like they're fifty, twenty or seventy five; if they don't got one, they don't party here!" Taking in all the information, I nodded once more before we finally got to work, Casey mixing and pouring drinks at record speed then setting them in my tray which I'd carry and serve customers with.
The work wasn't all that difficult and after some time had passed I had to admit I was enjoying myself. Dealing with people, especially those intoxicated was much easier and less confusing when all that was expected of me was to deliver the drinks and a smile then run off to my next destination. Despite the few that tried to grip at me through my jeans or slip a finger into one of the belt loops and give a light tug, I was happy to let the clamor of my surroundings vanish into the void of my mind as I busied myself with my job. The tips were relatively generous and Casey even congratulated me on my performance as we both enjoyed a beer during one of the gaps in sales.
It was a half hour past midnight as the work load seemed to dwindle down and I was leaning against one of the walls with my tray catching my breath when I felt something or more accurately someone sidle up next to me, seeming to become glued to my side. When I turned my head to send what I was positive was merely another drunk club goer gone clingy, I raised a suspicious brow as one of the dancers I'd seen from the other day looked up at me with a sickeningly sweet smile.
"Hey there~ you're doing pretty well tonight, is this your first time working at a bar?" Her words rolled off her tongue with a big smile on her face but I could sense little sincerity in what she asked. Casey told me to stay away from this one, gah what was her name…started with an M. "Thank you and no. My parents ran a tavern back in my hometown." I had hoped that would be the end of the very short conversation but the girl seemed to have other plans, cuddling up to my arm oblivious to my discomfort at being touched. "Well now that's interesting, my name is Meg by the way. If you ever want somebody to chat with, I'd be more than happy to offer up my company to you, handsome."
As I expected this woman had other things on her mind besides pleasant conversation, and judging by her posture which made it appear as if she was trying to see if she could rest her breasts atop my shoulder as she pressed them up with her arms and straightened back, i was correct to supsect as such. To any other man, I'm sure this is usually quite the treat and she was well aware of that by the sly glint in her eyes.
However that is one physical aspect of women I have never fully understood nor found relatively attractive. In my teenage days, boobs were pretty much all that guys my age would talk about whether it was seeing them on the Internet or copping a feel of one with the loose cheerleaders under sports stands. Me, I just didn't get it personally and with the few female partners I kept, it made things incredibly awkward. Second base should always be a big deal but when my first girlfriend finally took off her shirt during one of our make out sessions at her house, I honestly just stared at them in confusion.
Don't misunderstand, I do agree they are a very soft and tangible body part that extends from the human body making them quite erotic to the average person but for me, I could very much do without the generous display of cleavage that Meg was presenting me with at the moment. "That is a very kind offer but I don't believe I'll have the time with the upcoming night rush so if you'll excuse me."
I made to slide away from the unwanted physical aspect but Meg only hugged my arm closer to her chest, Ugh how many dirty dollar bills have been tucked into that bikini tonight, I wondered in slight disgust. "Oh but nobody's at the bar right now. Come on please, Castiel isn't it? I have a dressing room right back stage, we can bring a couple of drinks and have a little alone time to get to know one another, just you and me." Please don't let me get dragged into a room alone with her, the thought raced through my head as I tried my best to shake my head, refuse politely and pull my arm back at the same time as we started to edge unfortunately towards the stage door until a hand with red clipped nails closed around my shoulder, Casey ever my rescuer appearing at my right side with a stern glare pointed towards the purple clad dancer.
"Castiel, I need you to run down to the drug store and grab some salt. Our stock is running low, Meg don't you have a number coming up to get ready for?" With more force than I initially thought she possessed, Casey tugged me out of Meg's grip with a frown as Meg smiled back though the smile didn't reach her eyes. "Ah yes I do~ Too bad, Castiel and I were just starting to hit it off. Oh well, I hope you'll be watching me onstage, cutie!"
With a wave and painfully obvious wink, Meg skipped back towards the stage door as I let out a breath I hadn't noticed I'd been holding. "Thanks for the save. I really didn't want to converse with her much longer." Finally turning her eyes away from burning holes into Meg's back, Casey smile and patted my shoulder in a reassuring manner as we both made our way back to the bar counter. "Anytime Cassy dear really. And don't worry, anybody with a good head on their shoulders wouldn't want to either. But I was serious about the salt, little drug store about two blocks from here, can't miss it."
After grabbing my coat from the office, I stepped out of the club and started down the sidewalk as Casey had instructed. I had never walked around the area this late at night and had to admit all the darkened alleyways and flickering street lamps made it quite the creepy experience. As the neon sign of the drug store came into view, I couldn't help but shake the strange feeling that I was being followed. Turning around to realize there was nothing but a clear line of sidewalk behind me, I simply dismissed it as paranoia and quickly entered the shop with a jingle of the doorbell eager to get back to the bar and out of the dark.
The cashier, a freckled teen with wavy red hair and a rather dazed look in his eye, took his sweet time ringing up my two containers of salt so I perused through the magazines as I waited. Hearing the doorbell chime again, I looked up curiously out of the corner of my eye to see who else was out and about at this late hour. It turned out to be a very tall man who looked to be in his late thirties, most of his face hidden in the hood of a gray jacket with the front unzipped showing a dirtied white tank top underneath. When I caught the questionable grin aimed towards me, I fought off the uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach and turned back towards the register to pay for my purchase.
Taking the plastic bag with both boxes of salt inside, I headed quickly out the door with another chime of the doorbell and back down the block towards the bar. With each step, the sense of being followed became stronger and stronger as my pulse started to quicken as did my pace. When I heard the scuff of a shoe against the concrete behind me I turned around again, looking around worriedly. "Who's there…? Hello…?" No answer and the street was still vacant, but I could still tell something was certainly stalking me and by the absence of that someone, I doubt their intentions were friendly.
With a quick turn I broke into a sprint down the sidewalk, boxes making raucous thumps and thunks in the plastic bag now clenched in my hand matching the loud drumming of my heart in my ears. As the dull neon sign of the Chérubin finally came into view, my mind started to calm from it's originally racing inside my skull until I felt a sharp strong tug on my coat collar, yanking me away into the nearby alley.
When I dared to open my eyes, my vision was limited due to my captor looming over me blocking my view of anything else besides himself at close quarters. I realized with subdued trepidation that it was the same man I witnessed enter the convenience store just a few moments earlier, his face now much more visible and increasingly more frightening as the previous smile surrounded in a ginger scruff of a beard stretched into a lopsided grin. As I finally became aware of my surroundings, I nearly gagged and held my nose at the sheer stench of alcohol that enshrouded the man, the stale reek of tobacco in his breath now fanning across my face through yellowed teeth certainly not adding any small comfort.
"My my my, you're a lively little spunk aint'cha? Really make a guy work for it." This is not my night for avoiding unwanted conversation I thought but didn't grace the comment with any solid response, trying to shove the man away from me as my flight instinct kicked in over fight. "Will you please let me go? If it's money you're after, I'll gladly hand over what I have but please keep your distance." Any of my efforts were fruitless however as the man only took the opportunity of my hands pushing against his chest to grab my wrists with both hands, forcing them back beside my head as he leaned in closer, eyes glinting amusedly in the dark.
"Hmmm money? Nah I'm a man of much more refined tastes..." Clearly, I thought with a grimace as the putrid scent of his breath was starting to make me nauseous, I wonder if this guy's even heard of the term toothpaste. "And right now my tastes are hungering for whatever you've got under this trench coat, sugar pie." Dread seeped in my thoughts now as a calloused hand captured both my wrists above my head, the other grime covered appendage reaching forward to slip the layers of my coat aside.
I started to thrash around violently, kicking my legs out trying with all my might to get the man away from me, even doing as Gabe had always instructed me and aiming to 'hit him where it hurts' but sadly the man seemed to have foreseen this kind of resistance and stood just beyond the reach of my foot.
Feeling fingers slip under the hem of my shirt was the final straw though as my anxiety kicked in and I opened my mouth to scream, sound coming up short and coming out as a rough cough as the man's hand clenched into a fist punching my stomach and knocking the air out of me in the process. "Ah ah, none of that now. I'll give you plenty to scream about soon enough, gorgeous." Pain shooting through my abdomen, my original fear turned into seething rage as a familiar buzz rang through my ears, street lamp just beside the alleyway flickering brighter and brighter before it burst with a flourish of luminous sparks and a sharp crash and crackle of the bulb and fuse. "I said get off…"
Startled by the sudden blinding light and the falling broken glass that followed, the man looked back at me with a new emotion in his glazed over eyes that I recognized too late as fear before the hand was gone from my waist, appearing again near my neck with the click of a newly revealed switchblade, razor edge pressed right against my skin. "You…you're one of them aren't you? Those feathered freaks with all the crazy powers that are all over the news channels!" I merely glared in reply, thinking it better not to answer what could possibly cause the blade to press even closer into my neck.
A voice broke the tense silence that had encompassed the alleyway, a certain British accent not doing very much to lighten my bitter mood. "Excuse me Red, mind if I cut in? I just love this song and dance." Red, as he is apparently known, turned in recognition of his name being called, Balthazar giving his usual charming smile though his eyes and brow were poised in more of an angered sneer as he reached up patting Red right on the juncture between his neck and shoulder. No sooner had his hand made light contact with the skin exposed by Red's filthy tank top when the man's pupils dilated and he fell to the ground like a sack of lead. "Now then…Let's change the beat."
Author's note: Well that's it for part one. :3 this chapter is divided into two parts and that next part will be up within the week. Gil is like Casey from season three. Meg is just well Meg and Red is from season six. I made a slight reference to X Men first class in here somewhere so cookies for those who spot it and no Balthy does not have the mighty Vulcan nerve pinch, that will all be explained and more in the next segment. We see more of Cas's power in this one and Gabe is on his man period. Reviews are always appreciated and if you have questions don't be afraid to ask. Hope you enjoyed reading, Ciao!