The dark haired angel was transporting from place to place, trying to throw the other angels off his trail. He held a bag full of the spell components, unable to return to Bobby's house in fear of being followed. Castiel heard the prayers of his charge, worried about him. He felt torn, unable to ease Dean's mind as he was being chased around the world.
A deep tugging sensation erupted from deep within his gut, pulling him out of the air and onto the ground. He was being summoned by someone. Feeling his body crash back to earth, he quickly surveyed his surroundings. He was in a spacious empty warehouse, grey and bleary light coming in through the large windows, indicating it was raining outside. Before him stood an angel, a young boy with curly brown hair and soft brown eyes.
"Abraham," Castiel said as a greeting.
"Castiel... Thank you for coming on such short notice," a small and devious smile on Abraham's face.
"Enough of this game," Cas said.
"I'm not playing a game, it seems that you are. Enjoying your hide-and-go-seek with Heaven?" the little boy asked, looking so innocent and sweet but Cas knew better. "Oh Castiel, how weary I am of chasing you."
"Then stop," he said plainly.
"I wish I could, but you have something important that I want," Abraham said.
"The Book of the Dead, I know," Cas answered impatiently.
"We've given you many chances, you're about to run out. Actually, you have. Hand the book over or the Winchesters die. No more negotiating."
"No, I've given you chances. You cease pursuing me, or I will kill you," the dark haired angel said, his grip tight on his bag.
"I'd like to see you try," the small angel said, igniting the ring of holy oil around Castiel. He inwardly cursed as he looked down at the wretched fire. "Try and runaway now," Abraham said mockingly.
Cas felt the deep tugging again, like he was being summoned by someone else, but with the holy fire surrounding him, he could not move. The pain of being pulled elsewhere while being anchored on the spot ripped through him.
••••••
"Dean, Dean! Catch him, Sam" Bobby yelled.
Dean dropped to his knees, slamming down onto the ground. He was unable to support himself as Sam grabbed him and pulled him to a standing position, wrapping an arm around his waist.
"Not Cas," Dean mumbled, looking down at the bowl.
Sam and Bobby stared at each other, both of then unsure of what to say or do. "Here, sit down," the younger brother said as he sat him on the couch. "Dean, look at me," he said as he stooped in front of Dean. He looked up very slowly, his mind seemed elsewhere.
"Cas is dead," Dean said, his voice flat. Wanting to comfort him, Sam could only look at his brother, a hand on Dean's arm.
"Sam, c'mere," Bobby said. The younger brother backed away from Dean and to his pseudo father, following him out of the room and out of Dean's earshot. "If Cas is..." he couldn't finish the phrase, "we can't make the weapon to gank Isis."
"Unless we can convince her, Dean may be stuck as a woman," Sam realizing how serious this was.
"Yeah. Right now, we've gotta give him space but keep an eye on him. Dean's gotten close to the edge before and he's about headin' for it again," neither of them wanted to admit how far Dean had went before, nearly ODing in his lack of self control.
"I'll stick close to him," the younger brother's voice very somber, running through the several times Dean has scared him, thinking he would lose his brother to alcohol or prescription medication.
They both went back in the room, seeing Dean sit quietly, his hands twined together as he blankly stared at a wall. "Dean?" Sam said, his voice soft.
"Hmmm?" the older brother responded, not looking up at Bobby or Sam.
"We've gotta talk about this."
Suddenly, Dean was on his feet, "Talk about what? That we let Cas down? That he's dead? That we didn't give him back up? Or how about that without the weapon, I'm stuck as a woman? Not just a woman, no no, of course the curse has to do more, because you know nothing is simple in our lives. Once the curse eats me up, it's headin' straight for my soul which is just fan-friggen-tastic." By the end, Dean was nearly shouting. No one said anything as all three of them stood there in silence, unsure of what to say or do. It seemed like hours went by before Dean broke the tension by angrily saying "I'm gettin'some air," as he went outside.
Before he knew it, he was outside, walking in a random direction. The air was cool and made Dean shiver slightly, the memory of Castiel handing over his trench coat was playing across his mind. He walked aimlessly, his mind racing yet blank at the same time. Dean didn't know if he had been walking for minutes, hours, days, he couldn't tell anymore. Finally, he somehow circled around to the Impala, unsure of how he had even found his way there. There seemed to be a heavy weight in his pockets, pulling him down. The keys. The green-eyed man was on autopilot as he got behind the wheel, started the engine, and drove off.
••••••
"Bobby! Dean's leaving," Sam said hurriedly, looking out the window and running to the door. By the time he was out of the house, the Impala was fading off in the distance. "Damn it. Should we follow him?"
"You bet your ass we will. I've gotta hide the Book of the Dead first," Bobby said, placing the heavy metal bound book in a box. He took out a marker and quickly drew angel wards on one side of the box and demon wards on the other. "There, I'll grab my keys."
••••••
"How long do you plan to keep me here, Abraham?" Cas asked, trying to remain levelheaded.
"Until I hear that your precious little monkeys have been dealt with. Then, after you realize it was your own doing that killed them, I'm going to drop their bodies in front of you. I may even dance on them if I'm feeling up for it, which I probably will," the young angel said with a toothy and malicious grin.
"You are twisted," Cas said in disgust.
"Oh no Castiel. I'm not twisted, you are. I've seen what you've done... what you've thought of," Abraham winked at the dark haired angel. Castiel felt his face turn red in a mix of anger and embarrassment. "You've been thinking about that little whore, all the nasty things you want to do with her... or him, whatever you want to call Dean."
"Shut your mouth," Castiel said firmly.
"Let's start with the filthy things you want with his mouth, shall we? You've thought about Dean's mouth on your co-"
"I said be silent!" Castiel yelled, thunder crashing loudly around the warehouse. The sound of rain hitting the roof nearly deafening in their silence.
"You're sick and unfit for Heaven. No angel should lust, especially after that booze soaked slut." The words were so unnatural coming from such a sweet looking boy. The large windows began to buckle under the wind force outside and the hail raining down. Abraham seemed unbothered by it, still staring at Castiel.
••••••
In town, Bobby and Sam caught sight of the Impala, parked in front of the cafe. "He must've went on by foot. Knew we'd be looking for his car," Bobby said, parking in front of the same cafe. "Wanna start with the bars?"
"That'd be my best guess. Can't believe he turned off the GPS on his phone," the younger brother said with a sigh.
••••••
Dean sat at a bar, leaning his forearms against it, sipping at his whiskey, his shoulders hunched in an obvious 'leave-me-alone' manner. He didn't even notice what the bartender looked like, male or female. The room was a blur, just a stereotypical bar, nothing special. There were a few groups and several people off on their own, scattered around. Dean was so spaced out, he didn't even know what kind of music was playing. All he could hear was his own thoughts screaming at him.
"So tell me darling, what's your name?" a man leaned next to Dean. He seemed nice enough, a little too cocky.
"Why would you want to know my name?" Dean asked, tapping the glass in front of him for a refill. The tender (it was a young redhead woman) poured him a double and went on to someone else.
"You look like you could use someone to talk to. My name's Brian," he said, leaning a little closer.
Dean looked over at him, noticing that he was in fact attractive, dirty blonde with dimples. But that didn't mean anything to Dean. "Nice to meet you, Brian," he said flatly. Dean would give anything to be a man right now, to not be bothered by anyone, just sit here to himself.
"Still not going to tell me your name?" Brian asked, politely smiling.
Dean sipped from his drink. "Nope."
"You have perfected the cold shoulder... I'll just call you Sophie," Brian said, causing Dean to raise an eyebrow. "So tell me Sophie, what's brought you here?"
"Well, I wanted to not be bothered by anyone and drink in peace," Dean said pointedly.
"So you come out to do that? Pretty lady like you should know better than that," he said, charming and sweet. The kind of way Dean would be to women.
"Listen Brian, you seem like a," Dean paused and thought for a moment, "swell guy. But really, if you don't mind, I'd like to be alone right now." He cleared his throat, "I'm in mourning or whatever right now."
"I promise I'll leave you alone, I just have to ask, mourning over who?" he asked curiously.
"My best friend. Guess you could call him my uh... my boyfriend or something? Not really sure what it was, but he's gone now, so please..."
"I'm very sorry, here," Brian placed a twenty dollar bill in front of Dean. "I got your drinks. Have a nice night, Sophie" he said with a nod before walking across the room and to his group.
"You too," Dean said quietly, downing the rest of his drink. He stood from the bar and walked out, not wobbling or anything. Despite his female body and weight change, he still had a dramatically high tolerance.
Dean walked back to Baby, twenty minutes away from the bar. He saw Bobby's car parked nearby and rolled his eyes as he climbed into the Impala and drove home.
••••••
"Have you seen a woman in here, light brown hair, green eyes? Wearing plaid?" Sam asked a bartender, the third they'd come across.
"Ah yeah. 'Bout a hour ago," she said, recalling.
"Any idea where she coulda gone to?" Bobby asked.
"Not a clue. Sorry I can't really help you. Maybe you could ask Brian about it."
"Who the hell is Brian?" Sam asked, concerned for Dean.
"Oh, he's right over there," the bartender pointed to a man seated with two other guys, all threw of them drinking Budweiser.
"Thanks for your time," Sam said before he and Bobby walked over to the small group of men. "Brian?"
"That's me. How can I help y'all tonight?" Brian asked.
"The bartender told us you spoke to a young woman earlier."
"Oh, you mean Sophie," Brian answered.
"Sophie?" Bobby asked.
"Oh, that's just what I called her. She didn't give me her real name. You friends of hers?" the dirty blonde man asked.
"Family," Sam answered, "Would you have any idea where she went?"
"I'm sorry guys, I wish I could help, but I don't know where she is."
"Thanks," Sam said, sighing deeply.
"Not a problem."
Sam and Bobby walked outside, both of them trying to concentrate. "You think Dean headed home?" the talk man asked.
"Always worth a shot to see if his car his still in town," Bobby said as they began to walk back to the cafe.
••••••
Dean pulled up to his usual spot and parked. He gripped the wheel tightly after turning off the engine, and held onto it with white knuckles. After his fingers began to ache, he got out and looked at the Impala. All he could see was the goddamn angel, helping him change the oil, even getting some on his chin like a dork. "Damn it, Cas." Dean picked up a crowbar and stared at it in his small hands.
Everything went blank after that, Dean coming to with the still crowbar in his hand, the other bloody and cut. He looked up to see that he had smashed in the windows of the Impala, and left horrendous dents in the hood. The car was in terrible shape, but luckily, his knuckles weren't so bad. Dean vowed to fix Baby, upset at himself for blacking out and tearing up the Impala the way he had.
••••••
The rain continued to beat down on the roof, the wind growing stronger. Castiel had been focusing his powers to create a storm outside, using every ounce of energy he had to break the warehouse windows open, without Abraham becoming suspicious.
"Oh, you hear that," the little angel said, putting a hand to his temple. "It seems as though an angel has her eyes on Dean... right now." Abraham continued to listen to the 'angel radio.' He let out a quick laugh, "Shouldn't be too long now."
Cas glared at Abraham, hoping he could escape soon, and terrified of what was going to happen to his charge.
••••••
There was a soft flutter of wings behind Dean, "You cut your hand pretty bad."
Dean spun around to see the red haired bartender standing there, holding none other than the classic angel blade.
"Didn't know you made house calls," Dean said, looking the angel up and down, angry at himself for leaving his hexbag at home before he had run off. She wore normal blue jeans and a black tank top, her hair in spiraling curls past her shoulders. "You want the goddamn book, you can have it. I'm tired of fighting with you assholes over it."
"It's not just about the book, I mean, this is my revenge for all of the damage that you, your brother, your uncle, and Castiel have caused, so you'd better hold on little girl," she said tauntingly.
"Oh you bitch," Dean said, bracing himself as the angel ran at him, the angel blade raised in front of her. Dean grabbed her wrist and kept her from stabbing it into his chest, his injured hand aching and bleeding. The weight threw Dean onto his back, the red haired angel straddling his waist, the blade poised over his breast bone. Much to both of their surprise, Dean was able to keep her from piercing his chest.
Dean's eyes began to shine a bright and unnatural blue, strength coursing through his body. "How could you-" the angel yelled, pushing down as hard as she could. Another burst of strength went through Dean, now grabbing onto the angel's blade and turning it back towards her chest. He pushed the blade against the angel's strength until the tip went into the her chest. She began screaming loudly, light coming from the wound as Dean pushed it up, slowly, until it was as deep as it could go.
"Who's the little girl now?" Dean asked through gritted teeth, the angel in front of him pouring light out of her mouth and eyes, her body going limp.
••••••
"What?!" Abraham yelled, his eyes wide in anger and surprise, seeing his angel lacky be killed by Dean through 'angel radio.' The windows above him and Castiel shattered, rain now coming in. "How could he possibly..." the small angel looked over at Cas, the both of them now being rained on. "You gave him your power?! You disgust me!" Abraham pulled his blade from the inside of his jacket. "I've had enough of this! I'll have to take care of the Winchesters myself, but you first."
The wind kicked up the rain, dowsing the holy fire ring. Castiel dropped the bag of ingredients, lunging forward and snatching the angel blade from Abraham. Cas grabbed Abraham by the throat, forcing the little angel's mouth open, he jammed the blade into Abraham's open mouth and out the back of his head. The sound of bone crunching as the little angel's head was threatening to split open was drowned out by the high pitched scream that escaped from around the angel blade. White light filled the warehouse, the two of them becoming soaked from the rainfall. Cas pulled the blade out of Abraham's corpse and wiped the blood on the little angel's jacket. "That's for calling Dean a whore," he said angrily, looking down at the dead angel, hate and loathing in his eyes.
The holy fire now gone, Cas was immediately summoned to the next location he was meant to go to. He was weightless as he traveled at light speeds, then slamming down like a sack of bricks when he reached his destination. Bobby's house.
{Chapter End}