Sorry for the delay on this chapter, wrapping up the last of my uni work for the year! Man, writing this while watching the canon events unfold at the same time is weird. I might wrap this fic up soon.
SPOILERS FOR 12x03: I was surprised but kinda impressed by Mary deciding to go her own way. Like, it's very sad and clearly between this and Cas, Dean is going to be struggling with his good ol' abandonment issues once again. Poor Sam too. He barely got any time with her and he knew things were headed this way. Anyway, Mary isn't to know how much she's needed; as far as she knows, her sons are emotionally functioning adults with healthy relationships. LOL as if, but I can see why she'd think so. And she is in fact a person who is stuck in an impossibly stressful and upsetting situation :( the show's take on her response to this is probably more realistic than my 'mother instincts take care of most of the drama' approach. Oh well.
In other news, I used 'morning sunshine' from Dean to Cas in my long-running fic 'Escalation' and now it's canon! OMG THEY'RE SO MARRIED
I wheel back to face Castiel after Dean abruptly leaves, feeling a little indignant.
"Is he always this allergic to emotional honesty?" I ask sharply. The angel nods without hesitation, already moving past me as though tethered to Dean by invisible rope. I huff and fold my arms, wondering how John could have raised our son like this. John, who wrote me awful songs and tried to play them with questionable guitar skills. John, who spent more of my pregnancies tearing up over baby clothes than I did. John, who used to embarrass our friends with his publicly displayed affection. John was never this reticent about his feelings.
Maybe it's just Dean. Maybe he's just a closed off sort of person, more like me. But I can handle baring my feelings around those I love, and Dean sure as hell loves Cas. Maybe that's the problem, though.
Once we get Sam back and I've gotten to know him a little, I am going to have a serious talk with him about his brother. Assuming Sam isn't just as skittish.
I follow out to the car and climb in, nerves tingling as we pull out and cruise up the road. Dean is driving again. We wind through town, Castiel giving quiet directions to the motel that the mystery kidnappers are staying at. We arrive in less than five minutes, at a shabby little place on the edge of town. We park and get out, gathering by the Impala and sharing a deep breath of anticipation.
"Room twelve," Castiel murmurs, clearly recognising the car parked there. Dean opens the trunk of the Impala and I blink down at it, taken aback that the dusty space I used to load groceries into is now full of hunter's weaponry. Dean pulls out a vintage revolver, loads it and hands it to me. I take it gratefully, testing the long-forgotten feel of a gun in my hand. I used to be pretty decent at shooting. Hopefully I haven't totally lost my skills.
Armed and ready, the three of us stalk towards room twelve. Castiel is wielding an interesting silver blade, like an elongated triangle-based pyramid. Dean is levelling a gun like me, although his is far more modern. We reach the door and Dean nods shortly at Cas, his face grim. Castiel looks equally as serious as he moves back only to kick the door off its hinges in one swift movement. He strides in, Dean close behind him, with me bringing up the rear.
The sight within is not unexpected, but that makes it no less unpleasant. Two women stand in the centre of the room, both dressed smartly and very neatly. The one with dark hair is holding a small, curved blade with faintly glowing runes on it. The blonde woman is holding a clipboard and a pen. They're looming over a slumped figure in a chair that's been roughly attached to the floor. The figure in question has clearly been tortured, a tall and powerful man turned hunched and silent with pain and exhaustion. His clothes are ripped and bloody, bruises and cuts littering his faintly olive skin. Lank brown hair falls over his face but I still know who this is.
Sam.
The women look shocked for all of a nanosecond before launching into action, the blonde one dropping the clipboard and backing up as the dark haired one brandishes her knife and drops into a defensive pose. I step forward, ready to shoot, but Dean strides past me, face contorted with fury. He lets off a couple of shots which miss the women, the air around them rippling, the distortion so subtle I barely see it, but-
"They're warded!" I hiss. Dean swears and in the few seconds it's taken us to work out the situation, the brunette has made a decision. I cry out as I see her throw the knife straight at Dean, my throat constricting.
I needn't have worried, however. Cas steps smoothly in front of Dean, barely flinching as the blade buries itself in his shoulder. He yanks it out, dripping blood, and advances upon the two women wielding two knives now, eyes fierce. The blonde has been scrabbling at her ankle and I almost snort as she finally brings up a tiny gun, her face pale and reluctant but her her jaw set in determination. She's clearly not accustomed to combat. I would sympathise if my son wasn't chained to a chair and bleeding in her motel room. I duck as she shoots, lurching sideways. Dean has reached Sam and is whispering to him as he starts to pick at his manacles. I shoot pointlessly at the two women, trying to stop them from noticing what Dean is doing.
Castiel has reached where the warding protects the two women and he grimaces as he forces his way through it, the air shimmering and bending around him. The blonde is emptying her gun at him now, to no avail, her teeth gritted. The brunette tries to swing her fist at him but leaps backwards when he swipes at her with his silver blade. I follow after Cas, hoping that he's damaged the warding enough for me to get through, but it almost knocks me off of my feet. I turn and hurry to help Dean, hoping that Castiel can keep our enemies occupied.
"Sam," I whisper in a choked voice, dropping down beside my sons. Dean has picked one of the ankle restraints free and is working on the other one, tongue poking out in concentration. Sam looks semi-conscious, his bleary but shocked gaze lifting to me and then widening.
"Mom?"
"Yes, honey," I breathe, laying a hesitant hand on his knee. "It's me."
Sam shakes his head slowly, face screwed up in pain and confusion. "But, Dean… and you… I… am I dead?"
"No," I say firmly. "Sam Winchester, you are very much alive. Dean, you have another pick?"
"Nope, sorry," Dean grunts, exclaiming in triumph as he undoes the other ankle restraint. He moves immediately onto the handcuffs, barely glancing over my shoulder as he does so. "How's Cas doing?"
I spin around to see Cas grappling with the brunette. Beside them, the blonde slumps against the sideboard, clutching a stab wound in her stomach. She looks like she's on the verge of collapse. Even as I watch, Cas manages to slit the brunette's throat. I wince at the familiar scene, the bright scarlet wound and the gurgling sounds of her last breaths. The angel steps back to allow her to drop at his feet and then, breathing heavily, he touches two fingers to the blonde's forehead. She drops as well, eyes sliding shut, but he catches her and lifts her effortlessly. As he lays her on one of the motel beds and hovers a glowing hand over her bleeding abdomen, I hear Dean give a small whoop next to me.
"Done! Sammy, you are a free man. Hey, Cas?"
Castiel strides over and crouches down, peering at Sam with clear relief on his face. "Sam, I'm so glad that you're alright."
"Cas," greets Sam, still looking unfocused and puzzled. Cas sighs and brushes his fingertips lightly over Sam's forehead, closing his eyes in concentration. Dean watches closely, eyes trained on his brother's face. Sam gasps and screws up his brow in discomfort, but a moment later he opens his eyes again, looking far more lucid. His cuts and bruises have healed, although the blood and sweat remain on his skin. Cas slumps backwards, sitting heavily on the floor, face pale.
"Oh my God," mumbles Sam, staring first at Dean and then at me. "What- how-"
"Yeah, turns out I didn't die," Dean grins. "Oh, and Mom's back too. Surprise!"
I bite back a groan and exchange a pained look with Castiel. Tact is not Dean's strong suit.
