What, You Think His Angel-Radio's Broken?
"Suspicion always haunts the guilty mind." – William Shakespeare
Sam drummed his fingers on the wooden tabletop, staring absently at the wet ring of condensation around the base of his cold beer. They were on the house, or so Jo had said – she'd taken one look at the Winchesters as they'd traipsed through the door and immediately slid a couple of cold ones across the table.
Dean sat by his right shoulder, looking grumpy. He was already on his third bottle, far ahead of Sam's one and a half.
At first, the Harvelles had seemed satisfied with letting them drown themselves silently in liquor. But now, as a suddenly annoyed Ellen swiped Dean's beer, and as Jo nagged his own, Sam saw that that was definitely not the case.
"Alright," Ellen began sternly. She placed her hands on her hips, the very embodiment of a disgruntled mother about to lay down the law for her two sons. Sam felt his heart simultaneously grow and shrivel at the unbidden thought. He'd never had a mother, not really.
Her next words pulled him harshly from his reverie. "Boys, quit moping." They both cringed; guilty as charged. "Now, you're gonna sit your asses down" – metaphorically, of course, as they were already seated – "and tell Jo and I just what the hell happened to send you two into such a funk."
The two Winchesters exchanged glances. Neither of them particularly wanted to begin the long and arduous task of explaining just what had gone down in that factory. Especially since they didn't fully understand it themselves.
"You got your cat back, didn't you?" Jo prompted, as they both remained silent. Beside her, Ellen raised an expectant eyebrow.
Dean grunted, his gaze returning to the table. Sam swallowed a sigh, and straightened in his seat. Apparently, Dean was leaving it up to his brother to do the talking.
"Well, yeah. Obviously." Sam indicated the coiled mass of black fur at his feet. He didn't know why, but the kitten seemed to prefer him to his brother. Not that Sam really minded, of course. "Anyway, we got there and… everything went fine. Dean and I snuck through a back door, killed a couple of demons – and then we heard Crowley. He was laughing." Sam paused; just long enough to make sure that the two women were listening. "And this is where it gets weird. A second later, we heard someone else threatening him. We kicked down the door – and get this – it was Gabriel."
"Wait, Gabriel-Gabriel?" Ellen interrupted. "Archangel Gabriel?"
"What other Gabriel do we know?" Dean mumbled, but the words were lost as Sam continued.
"Yeah." He nodded emphatically. "Crowley had disappeared by then, and Gabriel handed us the kitten and basically just… flapped off, or whatever it is that angels do. But not before telling us off, and demanding that we take better care of the kitten. It was really weird." Understatement of the century, but Ellen and Jo certainly got the point. Their eyebrows rose, eerily in sync. Sometimes, Jo was so much like her mother that it was terrifying.
"That's not all," Dean interrupted. Maybe it was Sam's imagination, but it sounded like his voice almost shook. "I asked Gabe about Cas, too."
There was a long, strained moment of silence. No one had forgotten the heated rant after Dean's mysterious recovery, and the obvious tension whenever the angel was mentioned only seemed to grow more intense with each Castiel-less day. Eventually, Jo prompted, "And?"
Dean's gaze flashed up to meet Jo's. "And," he continued coldly, though the ice wasn't directed at her, "you know what Gabriel said?"
Ellen shot him an exasperated look that said clearly, Obviously. "Spill it," she pushed him.
It was only a second before Dean obliged. Sam glanced down at his hands as his brother opened his mouth, uncomfortable with hearing the words again. He knew that he wasn't as close with Cas as his brother was – their 'profound bond', or whatever – but the abandonment still hurt. "He's not running from Heaven," Dean said flatly. "At least, not anymore."
"What?!" The words exploded out of Jo before she could contain them. Instantly, she looked a little embarrassed. "But, that can't be right!" she argued. "We know that Cas has been in hiding. Hell, you know that's probably why he's not answering your prayers. It's too dangerous for him, unless he wants to be… re-converted." She stumbled slightly over the last word, obviously not knowing what to call it. Sam and Dean exchanged looks.
Cas had been remarkably tight-lipped over the entire situation, and they'd never gotten the full explanation of just what had occurred when he'd 'learned his lesson'. The words, as Dean had told them to him, still rang clearly in his mind.
I learned my lesson while I was away, Dean. I serve Heave, I don't serve man. And I certainly don't serve you.
But Castiel had let enough slip that they had a fair idea of just what had happened to the angel to cause his abrupt one-eighty. Calling it torture just felt wrong to Sam, especially considering that they were talking about angels – despite their whacked-up lives, he'd never lost his first faith – but there was no denying that, no matter what they called it, it had been a lot worse than what had happened to Dean in Hell. Castiel didn't like to talk about it, and they didn't push him.
"You don't get it," Dean was saying, as Sam returned from his thoughts. The younger Winchester shook his head slightly, as though he could physically shake away the fog of guilt-inducing memories. "Gabriel said that he had seen him a few days ago. He was certain that Cas wasn't running. And more than that, I know that he was lying, the tricky son of a bitch. Whenever he last saw Cas, it wasn't a few days ago. It was a hell of a lot more recent than that." A sudden thought seemed to occur to Dean, and he nearly exploded. "Hell, he could have just come from being with Cas, for all we know!"
All four of them exchanged looks: Dean, desperate and angry; Jo, just beginning to doubt; and Ellen, shaking her head in pity. Sam had no idea what he looked like, but he just hoped that his face didn't betray any of the worry he was just beginning to feel. To be honest, he hadn't really been paying much attention to Gabriel's words – but now, he wondered at the implications.
"What are you thinking, Dean?" he asked quietly. Sam had no idea what to do, or even to think, and he was more than happy to let his brother take control for the moment.
Dean sighed, his chest expanding and contracting in one huge breath. "I don't know, man," he answered, grinding the heels of his hands into his eyes. Suddenly, he paused, meeting his younger brother's gaze. Dean's eyes were slightly bloodshot. "I'm just starting to think that Cas has given up."
"Given up?" Sam echoed. He didn't notice the way that the cat resting on his feet suddenly tensed.
The room was silent until Dean continued. The darkness outside seemed to wrap around the Roadhouse, creating a barrier that cut them off from the rest of the world. There was only the four of them, sitting in a loose circle. It was almost eerie.
"Gabriel said that he wasn't running from Heaven anymore. What if Cas just stopped running? Got so tired of hiding from his family" – was the venom with which Dean spat the word real, or imagined? Sam didn't know – "that he just lay his weapons down and waited for them to catch up with him?"
The idea was sobering. In the ensuing silence, Jo shifted restlessly. "You shouldn't just give up on him like that, Dean," she scolded quietly. "You know Cas. I don't believe you – that's not your angel. He wouldn't do that."
Would he? Sam let the words churn over and over in his mind. He and Dean had done some pretty dumb stuff in their time – letting Lucifer out of the Cage currently ranked at the top of the list – and he wouldn't be surprised if Castiel had finally succumbed to the shared Winchester Stupidity.
But still, Jo's insistence inspired hope in his chest. Surely, Cas wouldn't have just left them like that – at the very least, he'd have said something to them. If not him, then Dean. Jo was right. It just wasn't Cas to leave them out to dry like that.
But Dean was just starting to get tipsy, and a drunken Dean tended to become very stubborn. He shook his head insistently. "Then why isn't he answering our prayers, then? Hell, if was him that healed me, why didn't he stick around after it?"
That was a fair point. Despite Jo's earlier words, they all knew that Cas would have sacrificed his safety to check up on them, or even just to talk. Surprisingly, the angel felt loneliness quite keenly. Perhaps it was because Castiel had been part of such a large family – there were probably thousands upon thousands of angels – for so long, ever since the beginning of Creation. Now, though, he had purposefully cut himself off from that family. And, despite being an archangel, even Gabriel's company probably couldn't make up for that large loss.
It was at times like this when Sam was just completely shocked by just how much Castiel had sacrificed for them. And that wasn't even the tip of the iceberg.
"I don't know, Dean," he answered quietly. The mood of the room had changed, almost seeming to demand the near-silence. For some reason, Sam just couldn't speak any louder. "But maybe we should cut him some slack, I mean-"
Surprisingly, Dean agreed immediately. "Fine," he interrupted. But his next words dashed any hope that Sam may have gathered. "Pray to him, Sam, and see if he answers."
Sam hesitated. He wasn't a fool – he knew that the likelihood of Castiel actually answering was now significantly smaller than it had once been. The only problem was that they didn't know why. Even so, he closed his eyes. It felt odd to clasp his hands together, so he refrained, choosing instead to leave them in his lap. "Uh, hey, Castiel." Once, praying had come easily to the younger Winchester – and sometimes it still did, when he was directing his thoughts to a God that some small part of him refused to accept had abandoned them. But Cas was a friend, familiar in a way that they'd never expected the angels to be. Now he didn't know how to pray, at least not to Cas – familiar and friendly, as though he were right there beside them? Or stiff and formal because no matter what he had done, he was still an Angel of the Lord? "Look, we need to talk. We haven't seen you in a while, and we're getting worried. We don't know where you are, man, and we have no idea what's going on with you. Just… we need to talk. Please, Castiel."
Sam opened his eyes, glancing around the room. But there had been no muffled flap of wings, no shuffle of feet against the wooden floor. He turned back to face Dean, ignoring the slow churn of worry and disappointment in his stomach. "I guess he's busy," he said softly.
Dean muttered something under his breath, and turned away. Jo and Ellen also exchanged looks, before returning to their previous jobs – packing the Roadhouse up for the night. Sam would offer to help them, but he just didn't know how to move. He hadn't really been expecting Castiel to show up, but still. The blatant rejection from the angel that he and Dean had begun to consider family still hurt. Besides, Jo and Ellen were almost done, anyway.
A sudden tug on his pants leg caught his attention, and Sam looked down. It was the kitten, clawing at his jeans and demanding to be noticed. He'd gotten a habit of doing that, Sam mused, before reaching down and pulling the cat up onto the table obligingly. The kitten was a long way from replacing Cas, but it made the sense of abandonment easier to bear.
The black kitten was staring up at Sam; blue eyes round in what seemed like pity. Almost like it was trying to tell him something. But the thought was fanciful, and he dismissed it out of hand.
Sighing, Sam propped his cheek on one hand, absently stroking the kitten's back. His fur was soft beneath the callouses on his fingers. Under his ministrations, the kitten seemed to sigh in happiness, pressing into the touch. He folded his big paws beneath him on the tabletop, settling into a more comfortable position. His eyes never left him, though. Sam smiled softly as the kitten's chest began to rumble, a quiet purr slipping from his throat.
A sudden thought occurred to him, one that sounded suspiciously like Dean. Crowley wasn't the King of Hell for nothing, and while he wasn't exactly sadistic, the fact that the kitten had no injuries was a little suspicious. Sam had seen the kitten be smashed against the floor when the demons had first taken him.
Sam's eyes narrowed in thought, rooting through his memories. There was the way that the cat looked at them when they spoke, almost as though it understood. The way that, despite being dragged across half the country and being captured by demons, it was still content to stay by his and Dean's side. The way that Sam hadn't seen it eat or drink a single thing since they'd first found it in the front seat of the Impala.
"Hey, Jo?" Sam straightened in his chair, his eyes not leaving the kitten still curled on the table. "Where'd you guys put my laptop?" He'd left it in their care before rushing out the door with Dean, intent on getting their kitten back.
The girl glanced up, brow furrowed. She tipped her chin over her shoulder, gesturing towards the back of the Roadhouse. "I put in your room," she told him. "Why?"
"I just want to look something up," Sam murmured, standing. He brushed past the young Harvelle gently. It took only a moment of rooting through his belongings before he was prowling back to the bar.
Sam set his laptop down on the counter, right next to the kitten. His eyelids cracked open, revealing slightly glazed over, bright blue irises. He blinked curiously, and slowly climbed to his feet.
But it was only to push his hand into Sam's hand, demanding to be petted. Despite his suspicions, the Winchester obliged for a moment. And then he pulled his hand back, placing it delicately on the keys.
For a second, he stared hard at the kitten. He stared back widely, ears flattened slightly. Sam wasn't knowledgeable enough in cat behavior to know what that meant, but after a moment, the kitten moved to stare intently at the screen. He was still, but oddly so – as though he was restraining himself, almost twitching from the effort.
Sam rolled his lips between his teeth, frowning in thought. And then he leant forward, pulled up his favorite internet search bar, and began to type.
Author's Note: And that ends Chapter Seven! Yes, I know that it was all Sam's POV, and a fairly plotty chapter - but don't worry, the next chapter is going to be primarily Castiel. And trust me when I say it's going to be very interesting...
Secondly, I'm so sorry for leaving you like that! I promise you guys, I will never ever abandon this story - so you'll never have to worry about that! My final, yearly exams really caught me on the backfoot, and I completely forgot to warn you guys like I did last time. I'm terribly sorry, but your concern for me was greatly appreciated! Honestly, you guys are just the sweetest. But, I digress. As all students know, the time between the end of exams and the rest of the year is smooth sailing. So, with any decent luck, this should be the very last time that I don't meet the deadline.
As an added precaution (I really do hate letting you guys down, as I have been) I've decided to give you guys my tumblr url, in case any of you guys have a blog too! Mine is "fallenwingchester", and feel free to drop by my askbox and kick my ass a little if the next chapter is late. If you choose to follow me, also send me a message so that I can follow you back! :)
Also, I've become aware of a terribly bad habit of mine: not responding to anonymous reviews! If this isn't you, feel free to skip ahead.
To 'Guest': Asdfghjkl, you're so sweet! *hugs* Sorry for the late chapter, but I hope you enjoyed it! :)
To 'That Night': Oh my goodness, thank you! I'm so glad to hear that you're enjoying this. *hugs* And your concern was really, really appreciated - even if the only injuries I've sustained recently happen to be a couple of scratches from a cat. Ironic, I know. :)
As always, I just have to thank you guys for being so wonderful. I probably sound like a broken record at this point, but the fact that you all love and support this story as much as I do really just makes my day - my week, even. I never expected this story to reach the kind of popularity that it has, and you guys are the ones making that happen. I just can't even begin to explain how much I love you all. I want to thank everyone who has added this story to their alerts and/or favourites lists. Of course, a very special thank-you goes out to Destiel101, OnyxDay, Guest, TheDoctorsGingerGirl, chatnoir1, Flyingwiththeflock425, Caliban's-Girl667, JelloGirl323, PhayzonTech, That Night, and catpatch30 for their wonderful reviews and kind words. Thank you so much! Asdfghjkl, you guys are just amazing! :)
P.S. This story has now been updated to a T Rating, simply because I believe that Dean's language probably doesn't fit the current rating so well. But don't worry, the content of this story won't be effected. :)