A/N: Hello everyone! Thank you so much for your support! Since, yesterday I have been writing like a madman. I know its been a long read, but its's getting there. Why, I see a reunion in the next chapter! It has come to my attention that I never posted a schedule when I release the chapters. That said, I aim to release one every two or three days. Anyways, thank you for reading! And please, I appreciate all comments/reviews.
Chapter Nine
Stranger Danger!
'This hamburger is most unsatisfying.' Cas thought to himself. It was small and misshapen, nothing compared to the supposed perfection that was advertised. 'How could over a billion of these have been sold?' He continued to chew the rather bland food. While not appealing, it did contain enough calories to fuel him for a while, and inexpensive. The ticket to Omaha took most of the cash on hand, so he had to find the most cost efficient method for something to eat. He had twelve dollars and sixteen cents now. The distance from his current location to the bunker he estimated was just about two hundred miles. The two disparate amounts afforded him no fast or easy travel back the brothers.
When Steve was advising him of the etiquette of hitchhiking during breakfast the previous day, Castiel listened intently. Since he was technically 'hitching' a ride from Steve, it was only courteous to know how to react in future scenarios if only to be polite. He was thankful that the instruction his new friend gave him would be soon be put to use. The bus stop had a map that he took, and he now opened it up on the table at the fast food establishment.
Omaha was north east of Lebanon, he would have to take Interstate 80 west then turn south near Grand Island. It was late afternoon, almost evening now. He was advised to not hitch at night as most people are wary of travelers in the nighttime. It was also a possibility that anyone who may pick him up may not have altruistic motives, so he had to be on guard. However, he did not have a place to rest and wait until the next day. He would have to risk hitching a ride in this late hour. Looking at the map once again, he figured the nearest highway on ramp would be the most likely location to find a ride.
He stood nearly an hour with his thumb sticking out, from what he was told is the universal sign of needing a lift. Most drivers passed him without as much as a glance. Perhaps if he smiled? No, Dean said he 'creeped' him out when he smiled, so best not. At least he had thought of a cover story. He is just going to say that his vehicle broke down and he lost his phone. It was believable and vague enough to not raise too may question if anyone should ask.
There were no other fallen angels in the vicinity as well, and he was not certain on what to make of that. It may be possible that other cities may have adopted the strategy that Bozeman had. In any case, he hoped that his siblings were in safe. As soon as he was able to reach the Winchesters, they would formulate a plan. If they were willing to help.
When he fell asleep earlier, there were no dreams or nightmares. However the nightmare from the previous day still cast a dark shadow of doubt on him. They were will within their rights to refuse him help. However, he owed it to his brothers and sisters to at least try. If they declined to assist him, he would do what he can. That line of thought made him depressed though, so he avoided it. Dean not wanting to see him stung. "Concentrate on the current objective," he said to himself.
An unloaded semi-truck pulled over near him and the passenger side door opened. He walked over and hoisted himself up into the cabin. The driver was somewhat obese middle aged man with a beard and bald head that was covered in a cap. He looked grim and it was difficult to read his face beyond that.
"Where you headin'?" His accent indicated Midwestern to Castiel.
"Lebanon, Kansas."
"Ain't heading there, but onto Hastings, north of there. Can give you a lift thereabouts."
"It would be much appreciated. My name is James. My car broke down and I lost my phone."
"John. Come on in." Castiel settled into the seat and closed the door. James turned back onto the onramp and merged onto the highway. "Strange days we're having. Seen some weird stuff but that lightshow took the cake."
"It was a…interesting night." It was only logical that the primary subject would be about the angels falling. He had heard it in the diner, the bus and everywhere he went. There were endless theories about the cause, but he avoided them, knowing the truth. Every story was just a reminder of his failure. So he wanted to turn the subject away to anything else, however his people skills seemed to be eternally rusty. Steve said it was best to share personal stories that might connect with the driver. "My friends' fathers name was John. Never actually meet him, but I am told he was a good man. To my understanding it means Graced by God."
"Well now, didn't know that. It was my pops name, I'm a junior, but I don't like being called junior though. Friends call me Big John."
"My friends call me Jimmy." Jimmy, he recalled, did not like being called James. It was interesting how humans came up with nicknames. Angels had one true name, each given to them by Father when he created them. When Dean started calling him Cas, he understood it to be just an illogical shortening of his name. Dean explained that Castiel was too long and weird to pronounce all of the time. Sam offered, with a smirk, that it was because it was a sign of affection from Dean. Both explanations did not explain why they shortened his name, but he liked it, so he kept it.
"So what brings you to hitchhiking? A fella looking like you is not the type who usually hitches rides."
"I was travelling doing some business in Omaha when my car broke down. I lost my phone at my last job so I did not have a replacement or numbers to call for help. It is…a rather embarrassing situation." Cas was hoping this cover would hold, he hadn't thought of anything more specific.
"Know how that goes, never remember anyone's number these days." John flipped out a phone from his pocket with one hand. "These days you just tell it to call whoever and it does it. Technology I tell ya." He put the phone in the center dash. "So what line of work do you do Jimmy? May I call you Jimmy?"
"Ah…yes, that is fine. I am…a tax accountant. For churches." He hoped Dean was telling him the truth when he said he looked like a holy tax accountant.
"Oh. That sounds…interesting."
"It is not as interesting as one would think. The paperwork can be quite substantial and repetitive." He was really hoping that John would not press further. He had no idea about taxes.
"I bet. Nothing worse than taxes. Pops said death and taxes, only two constants in the world." Cas wondered if Death would be amused with this comparison. He doubted it. "Listen bud, I am going to listen to the radio, so relax and enjoy the ride, k'?"
"Yes, of course, thank you." John turned the radio onto a news channel. The primary topic was no other but, in what was now termed, The Angel Fall. Cas listened earnestly on the news while the hills rolled by.
Sam felt somewhat better after his meditation induced napped. He still had that headache and too warm feeling, but he needed to stretch his legs. Though his body was sluggish, his mind worked perfectly, and he needed to get out of his room to see how things are going. Checking on Crowley would be a good idea; he doubted Dean would do so. Dean had the key to the locks though, so he needed to find his older brother.
Dean wasn't in his room, the kitchen, the main hall, library, shooting range or that new gym they found. So he had to look for his brother in the huge and mostly unexplored bunker. Kevin was asleep already, so he was no help. It looked like it was going to be a game of where's Dean? He turned down a hall that he was not familiar with. When they first moved in the bunker, they were just simply amazed at all the resources the Men of Letters had. Though it was sad they the order was no more, they did a hell of a job when they were around. The library alone surpassed any hunters he encountered, including Bobby's. The main library was mostly aesthetic though, the archives in the other rooms held a wealth of information that he had no idea existed. Then there were the vaults. He thought his dad had a big lockup; these guys put that notion to shame. There were endless boxes of stored cursed objects, weapons, charms and just…things he had no idea what they were.
The 'War Room' as Dean liked to call it was a bit of a mystery, just like everything else in this place. It certainly looked like a control center, but the consoles were not connected to anything in particular. Though they did a quick cursory check when they first moved in, he still had no idea how there was power or water coming in to this place. There wasn't a generator room he was able to find and it was doubtful that the power company would keep the power flowing here. The EM jamming field was curious; he had no idea about it until Charlie told them. However, for all its mysteries, it was their legacy, and more importantly, it was their home.
He spied a mostly closed door at the end of the hallway. Pretty sure Dean was in there. Most of these rooms were just archives, but after the hidden dungeon find, he wondered what else they might hide. Reaching the door, he was about to come in before he decided to knock. He had seen more of Dean than he would care to admit when he neglects to knock.
After a couple of knocks and no response, he opened the door. Dean was passed out on top of some boxes. There was a mostly empty bottle of scotch near him on the floor. Sam just rolled his eyes. This must be a room where Dean must have stashed some liquor. It's not like he doesn't know his brother drinks excessively when he is depressed, but he would hesitate to call his brother an alcoholic. Dean was though, though he usually kept it well under control. There was no point to stage an intervention, every hunter he knew drank heavily, came with the job. So he was an enabler, but seriously, they had it under control. Mostly.
If Sam were up to it, he would carry his brother to his bed. As it was though, he barely had the strength to keep himself up. So he just grabbed a few old blankets from a storage locker and threw them around Dean. Then he saw that Dean was reading a book called the Sons of God. Picking up the book, it was some information on fallen angels. Sam just smiled and placed the book near Dean. His brother hated doing research, but the fact that he was looking for information on angels told Sam the exact reason why his brother was depressed. Castiel, his brothers best friend, the one with whom he shares a 'profound bond'. Sam still wouldn't let Dean live that one down when times were happier.
These are far from happy times though. So he understood why his brother drank himself to sleep. He put his hand on Dean's shoulder. "It's ok Dean, we'll find him. We'll get him back." He just got a small grunt in response. He dug into Deans pocket and fished out his keys. It was likely his brother would tear him a new one when he found his keys missing, but he'll deal with it.
Heading to Crowley's room, he thought on what to converse with the former king. They were so focused on the angel situation today he almost forge about Crowley. He was hoping he didn't need to eat or use the restroom. Demons, like angels, have no need to do so. Crowley was mostly human though, so it was likely he needed to, in which case, they were horrible hosts. Wardens. Whatever.
Opening the door, he was surprised at what he saw. Crowley was hunched over the journal he gave him, writing away. He didn't even notice Sam was there for a good minute before he looked up. No black, so that's a good sign, still filthy from the brush in with Abaddon.
"Hello there moosey. Forgive the state of my quarters, I have been busy."
Sam sighed and crossed his arms. "Hey. Just checking in on you, making sure you're all right." Sam arched his eyebrows. "What are you working on?"
Crowley gave his patented smirk. "You Winchesters gave me time to think about what I have done over my time. Reflecting upon my sins and deeds, on how they have hurt so many. I want to atone for that." He gestured to the journal. "Abaddon is likely undertaking a takeover of Hell in my absence. As a Knight, she has the strength and power to do so. So this is intel on Hell, demons in charge, Hell Gate locations, plans I had made and all that."
Sam uncrossed his arms and held out his hand so Crowley could give him the journal. He did so, and Sam noticed that wrists were raw from the irons. "Jeez Crowley, you should have said something about your wrists." He took the journal and laid it aside before returning to the former demon. He did not fear Crowley, so he took his hands and examined them closely.
"Oh Sam, you care about me. Don't fret though, they don't hurt. I deserve them, and please," Crowley looked at him straight in the eye, "don't take them off. I still feel it inside, I hear a voice." Sam quickly got up and stepped back. "I hear the demon you see, its snarky and I feel its…foulness, the evil. I am holding it back though. I don't want to go back to that. Feel like Gollum I do."
"You mean Smeagol?" Sam was worried this might happen. The demon aspect was not fully purged as he suspected.
"Yes, whatever one was not evil, never watched the films. But you know what I mean." Crowley looked at the journal beside Sam. "I hope to earn repentance, to find forgiveness. To that end, I will undo what I can, help where it can offered. That's only a small portion I have. Please, use it. You can't let Abaddon have control of Hell. She'll lead an army and raise hell on Earth."
"And with the angels fallen on Earth, there's nobody to stop her." None of them realized this. Crowley did though. If there was anyone who had any idea about the workings of Hell, it was Crowley. "Oh my god, we're wide open to another Apocalypse."
"Bingo my tall friend, but she'll need time. There were many in Hell who resisted my rule, and most likely will resist her. She can kill them though whereas I couldn't."
"Thank you Crowley, I know this means a lot to you, and I appreciate what you have done so far. I don't have the authority to forgive you though. Honestly, I don't know who can." Crowley looked remorseful on that remark. "However, I think this is a great way to start." Sam bent down to look Crowley in the eyes. "It is because of me you are like this, and I can imagine what you're going through. We will find a way to cure you. Trust us."
Crowley gathered himself up and smiled. "Of course moose. Now run along now, you look as bad as I feel."
"You too man."
John dropped him off in a gas station north of Hastings. The rest of the ride was silent and fast thankfully. The news program gave little information about the Angel Fall itself. Mostly, it was highly opinionated debate between a theologian, a local politician and an atheist about the situation. Still, he was able to gleam something useful. Most of it was not good, except for one point. Some cities on the west coast had begun to organize shelters and services for his brethren. Many churches and community organizations were working in tandem to find all the angels. This strategy was now being copied across the globe. He felt some ease; at least some of his siblings would have help.
Focusing back onto his own predicament, he took out his map. From what he could determine, all he had to do was head south for about seventy miles. It was possible to travel the distance on foot, but it would take him another day at least. It was now late evening, and highly unlikely to find a ride. He was not tired, having rested enough on the bus, so he decided it would be effective to start walking and hope someone might see him.
After a couple of hours and one car passing him, his feet were giving him problems. As he encountered a couple of days earlier, his shoes were not made for comfort. The back of his feet, almost felt like it was being rubbed raw. However, he endeavored to push on. When Dean first dug himself out, he had to walk a similar distance to the store. He remembered watching him, tried to talk to him, though Dean could not understand his true voice. Instead he shattered all the glass and nearly destroyed Dean's ears.
He sighed. The past couple of days have been an illuminating experience. However, as the time passed, he felt more and more human. His angelic nature once enhanced his memory and suppressed his emotions. Without it though, he could not recall everything he thought he should. His emotions, though sometimes threatening to overwhelm him, never felt so real before. It was curious, and though he was scared of them, he wanted to know more. A most perplexing desire he thought.
He saw a car coming in the opposite direction heading north. The vehicle seemed to be travelling at a high speed that was well above the limit posted. It sped past him while he continued walking south. Then he heard a loud screech of tires so he turned around. The car, which was a small four door sedan, was doing a U-turn and heading back south. He continued to look at it when it neared him and then pulled to an abrupt stop. The passenger side window rolled down. Taking this as a sign that the driver wanted to speak to him, he bent down to look at the driver.
She was a young woman with blond hair and blue eyes. She was wearing denim shorts and a form fitting shirt. However, there were some very large dark stains around her eyes. For a second he thought it was a leviathan but realized that was just her cosmetics. Evidently, she had been crying.
"Hey there handsome, where you off to?"
"Lebanon, Kansas. My car broke down and my phone is broken." She looked him over, and a smile beamed over her face. The effect was most disconcerting for him, he was not sure on how to interpret this.
Her voiced lowered and become softened. "Well now, that's not far off from here. Who you got there in Lebanon?"
"My friends have a residence that I was travelling to."
"Oh…are they cute like you?"
The brothers seemed to attract a good number of male and female admirers, by conventional beauty standards, they were attractive. "Yes, I believe them to be handsome."
"Oh good! How about you hop in and we'll have ourselves a party!"
Cas was unsure if she would actually take him here, but his desire to get to Dean was quickly as possible was overriding his rational thought process. Still, he erred on the side of caution. "You were heading north previously, I would not want to inconvenience you. "
"Oh no sweetie, I was out for a drive nowhere in particular. Lebanon is just as good as anywhere else in these parts. Promise I don't bite." She looked at him on what he believes what would be called puppy dog eyes. He had seen Sam employ this technique on several persons before. He had to admit, it was rather effective. He nodded at her and let himself in the compact car. He barely closed the door when she suddenly accelerated.
"Holly Madsen." She shifted in her seat, getting somewhat clase
"James. Thank you for your assistance."
"You always talk so formal? What are you? A professor or something?"
"Ah, no. Tax accountant. For churches."
"That sounds so boring! How did someone like you get in that line of work? You could be an actor or model! You're too hot to be behind a desk." He felt himself blush slightly. No one had been so direct in complimenting him before. However, he did not know how to reply, should he also compliment her appearance? She was by contemporary standards, pretty. Thinking as if he were Dean, he figured that Dean would be flirting with her. However, he had no desire to flirt with her, but he could pretend.
"Thank you for your compliment. I also find you attractive."
"At least you think so, Brad didn't. Stupid asshole." She took a drink from a flask she had stashed on the driver side compartment. Cas suddenly became worried that Holly might be intoxicated. He eyed the speedometer. They were going close to seventy miles per hour. At this rate, he would be in Lebanon in forty minutes. It also meant if they were in a crash, his death was likely.
"I am fairly certain that it is unwise to consume alcohol when driving. It may impair your reflexes and at these speeds, the results of crash would be undesirable. May I suggest slowing down?"
She gave him a mean look, but she slowed down a bit. "Don't tell me what to do, you're cute but that don't mean you tell what to do in my own car!" Then she smiled at him. "Oh, don't worry, I'm a safe driver." She patted his thigh a couple of times. He tensed up immediately. Her hand lingered there in response, slowing massaging the muscle underneath. "Relax there cutie."
Cas was not to certain what was happening. Her demeanor was similar to the lady of that house of inequity Dean took him too. It made him uncomfortable. He did not know how to feel, it felt…wrong. She was intoxicated, he surmised that she had an argument with Brad, that she was just using him to get back at this Brad. No, he had to stop this.
He gripped her hand lightly from him, and putting it on her side of the car. "I feel that it would be best if you let me out. I also recommend you return home or to place where you can…sleep it off."
She slapped him across the face, "Fuck you! You gay or something? Goddammit!" She screeched the car to a sudden stop. "Just get out, get out you homo!" He quickly unstrapped himself and exited the vehicle. Before he could turn around she slammed the door, spun the car around and headed north again. That was a very uncomfortable situation; he did not know how to process what just occurred.
He hoped that Holly would be safe. Humans under emotional duress often make irrational choices. When he thought about it, human rarely did anything rationally. Then he remembered he was one of them now. He sighed.
It was difficult to tell how far they had travelled. Estimating, he figured he had to be nearly fifty miles away. Deciding that hitchhiking was no longer an option this late at night, he walked alongside the road south. It would be long, but he was so close, it spurred him on toward what he hoped would be a haven for him.
