A/N: Thank you guest Loreley for reviewing again! (That's true, we haven't had a really hatable angel in a while. Lucifer doesn't really count.) And thank you to my other guest for reviewing! I'm so glad to hear you like this verse. :)
We're getting really close to the climax now!
Chapter 11
The Impala's tires crunched lightly as it rolled slowly down the dirt stretch toward the cabin nestled in the far back of the woods near a small lake. This was their second safe house after being on the road for a week, their plan to spend only a couple of nights at a time at each one. It reminded Sam of when he and Dean had been on the run from the Leviathan. Except they hadn't had Cas or a very pregnant lady with them at the time…though Lucifer had been running wild in Sam's noggin. And this time they thankfully hadn't been forced to resort to switching cars yet.
So, things had been pretty much just as bad, then, seemed like they couldn't possibly get better. They'd gotten through it, though; they'd somehow get through this now.
Ryn was asleep in the backseat, her head resting on Cas's shoulder as the angel sat completely rigid so as not to disturb her. They'd waited in the car earlier that evening when Sam and Dean had gone into a bar to hustle at pool. Turned out the brothers were a little rusty, having not had to do it for a while, but it didn't take too long to find their rhythm again.
Still, they'd stayed a couple of hours to milk everything they could, and when they'd come out again, Ryn had fallen asleep. She was looking more worn around the edges, paler too, and Sam worried about the toll the stress of everything was taking on her and the baby.
When Dean put the car in park and shut off the engine, Cas finally reached out to lightly touch her shoulder, and she roused groggily.
"We're here," he said softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
Dean wordlessly got out of the car, and Sam followed, both of them going around back to the trunk to grab their duffels and the bag of Chinese takeout they'd picked up on their way out of town with some of the fresh cash they'd earned. The area was calm and peaceful, sounds of a woodpecker in one of the trees tapping out a steady staccato rhythm of normalcy and safety.
They entered the cabin, doing a quick sweep and taking inventory of the supplies in the cache. They'd have to make a trip into town to restock everything before they left so another hunter could find refuge in the future if needed.
Dean set the bag of food on a squat, wooden table in the middle of the room. They'd be dining on the floor tonight, but there was a pile of ratty pillows in the corner they could sit on.
"Get it while it's hot," Dean announced as Cas and Ryn finally came into the cabin.
Ryn huffed out a sigh. "I get on that floor, I'm not getting up again."
Sam's mouth quirked, but Cas just looked at her in confusion.
"I'll help you," he said.
Sam grabbed one of the floor pillows and dropped it down on one side of the table. "Here."
Cas gripped Ryn's arm and helped ease her down, his angelic strength easily able to keep her steady. Dean started opening the food cartons and jamming sets of chopsticks into them, and then the four of them settled around the table and dug in.
Dean pulled his phone out and checked it, only to toss it on his bag behind him.
"Nothing from Crowley?" Sam asked.
"Nope. Guess we wore out that welcome mat when he lost his 'palace.'"
"I'm sure he'll be able to return eventually," Cas put in.
"I honestly thought he could do better, given the high quality suit," Ryn commented.
Sam let out a snort. "I think he was just trying to create a little piece of Hell on Earth. He did have a dungeon and torture chamber in there, you know."
Cas furrowed his brow. "We weren't allowed to go looking around."
Sam shrugged. "Dean got bored."
Cas gave them both such a chastising parental look then that Sam almost busted out laughing. Oh, he had the 'dad' face down pat. But, the minute his kid learned how to use the 'puppy eyes,' Cas would be done for, hopelessly wrapped around her little finger. Actually, they'd all probably be doomed…
Sam instantly sobered as the innocent joke inevitably led him back to their current situation. "So, I've been thinking," he said. "We should try to find more Hands of God, since that seems to be about the only thing powerful enough to fight off an army of angels."
Dean canted his head in agreement. "Yeah, okay. Maybe we shore up enough of them, we can send a nuke right through the pearly gates."
Cas stiffened. "I don't want to destroy Heaven," he said in a pained voice.
By the look on Dean's face, Sam could tell his brother was astounded that Cas still cared about any of the angels upstairs at all.
"Maybe we won't have to use them," Sam put in hurriedly. "If we get our hands on enough, and the angels know it, maybe we can just achieve a Mexican standoff." One that would make the Cuban Missile Crisis seem like a first grader's spat in a sandbox.
"That could take us a long time," Ryn said quietly.
Sam's shoulders sagged. Yeah, but it was the best plan they had. They wouldn't be able to run forever.
"We could always try tracking Rowena down," Dean mentioned. "I mean, she had the juice to shield from that angel smiting."
"She has no reason to help us," Cas pointed out.
"I'll think of a really good one."
They fell silent at the unspoken threat in Dean's statement, conversation over for now. There wasn't anything to do tonight, anyway, except to get some rest. Tomorrow, Sam would start looking for Hands of God, and Dean could work on finding Rowena.
Cas got to his feet after another minute. "I'll go put additional warding on some of the trees outside," he announced, and made an exit.
The rest of them finished their dinner, and then Ryn declared herself too tired to bother getting up and over to the cot, and so simply laid herself down on the floor to fall asleep. Dean scooted two of the pillows over for her to at least have some kind of cushion.
"You take the cot," Sam told his brother. "I won't fit."
"Sasquatch," Dean muttered under his breath, running a weary hand down his face. "But nah, Cas can pick her up and move her when he gets back."
Sam lowered his voice, even though Ryn was already sound asleep. "Actually, I don't think she'd fit, either." The cot was pretty narrow.
Dean furrowed his brow as he gave the thing an appraising glare. "Eh, yeah, maybe not."
Sam laid out a bedroll for himself and puttered around while Dean settled onto the cot, the springs squeaking loudly every time he shifted trying to find a comfortable position. But he was exhausted enough that it didn't take long for everything to fall quiet.
Sam glanced at the door, wondering how many trees Cas planned on carving into out there. He grabbed his jacket and quietly slipped outside.
Cas wasn't busy cutting sigils into trunks, but was standing on the shore of the lake, gazing out at the moon-rippled water. Sam flipped his collar up and buried his hands in his pockets as he made his way over.
"Hey," he said softly, trying not to disturb the tranquility. Cas didn't say anything.
"About the Hands of God," Sam went on. "They'd just be for protection. Self-defense."
Cas shook his head. "What am I doing, Sam? The angels will never stop hunting us, and I'm going to bring a child into that kind of life?"
"We'll figure something out," Sam responded, but it came out somewhat weak.
Cas's gaze drifted out across the lake again, and he was silent for several moments. "When your father left you in motel rooms, and at Bobby's…" he started carefully. "It was because he thought he was keeping you safe, correct?"
Sam's gut had the knee-jerk reaction of tightening at the subject of John, but also at the unexpectedness of the question, coming from Cas. Was he now thinking of leaving them and Ryn? Going off on his own, maybe intending to draw the angels away? Because that would be just like him.
But instead of jumping in with repeated arguments about why that would be the stupidest idea, ever, Sam decided to consider Cas's actual question with the respect his friend deserved. Because he thought he could understand where Cas was coming from, even if he didn't agree with it.
"Yeah," he finally said. "I think, on some level, Dad probably thought that." Sam shifted. "As a kid, though, I saw it as something else."
"Abandonment," Cas said bluntly.
"Yeah," Sam told him honestly. "Even if my dad had good intentions,"—and Sam still took issue with the methods of those intentions—"most of the time, I just wanted him to be there. And…wanting to keep your family safe is all well and good, but…you can't protect them from everything. Whether you're there or not."
Cas's brows knitted together.
"But, ask any kid whose parent is gone," Sam continued, "and they'll tell you they'd rather have that mom or dad."
"Cursed or not?" Cas asked wryly.
Sam quirked a confused brow. "Uh, yeah." He frowned as he studied the angel. "You're not cursed, though. I know Dean likes to say we are, that everyone in our family is doomed to suffer…" Sam's words choked off, and he took a moment to collect himself, because honestly, sometimes that felt true…
"But it's not always like that," he said earnestly. "We've had good times. Maybe few and far between the bad times, but they exist. Those- those are what we hold onto."
Cas was silent for a long beat. "My father abandoned us, the angels," he said, the gravelly tone in his voice deepening. "Do- do you think…he thought he was doing the right thing?"
Sam gave his friend a sympathetic shrug. "I don't know, Cas. If he was, would that make his absence hurt any less?"
Cas thought about it for a moment. "No." His expression shifted then, some of the lines smoothing out. "Thank you, Sam. You're a good friend."
Sam gave him a small smile in return. "So, you're not thinking of leaving?" he checked.
"No. Despite my sincere intentions, and what my own father's may have been…" He took a deep breath. "I don't want to be like him."
Sam nodded in understanding, and reached out to clap a hand on Cas's shoulder. "You've always been the best of us, you know that?"
Cas shook his head sharply. "No, Sam. But…I think, perhaps, we've always been the best of each other. And I wouldn't want to do this without you and Dean."
Cas stepped forward and abruptly put his arms around Sam in a gripping, heartfelt hug. Sam was startled at first, yet couldn't help but widen his smile as he hugged the angel back.
"We wouldn't let you," he said in his friend's ear.
Cas pulled back and nodded in accepted solidarity. "Get some sleep, Sam. I think I'd like to stay and watch the moon rise a little more."
"Okay." Sam gave him one last look before heading back inside. Their problems were likely to only get worse from here on out, but tonight, at least, they were all safe and sound.
Ryn shifted in the backseat of the Impala, trying to suppress any noises of discomfort as she attempted to relieve the aching in her legs and back. Spending hours cramped in the car every few days was beginning to wear on her. But they had to keep moving; she knew that. They'd stayed in the last cabin for three days, which was as long as the Winchesters seemed willing to dare, and now they were making their way west across the state to the next one, but it was just over a full day's drive, and Ryn was having a harder and harder time sitting still.
When Dean pulled into a gas station twenty minutes later, she was scooting out of the car before he'd even turned off the engine. Castiel climbed out the other side and hurried around the back.
"Are you alright?" he asked worriedly.
"I just need to stretch my legs," she assured him.
Dean slammed his door shut and frowned at her. "I should've stopped sooner, huh?" he said sheepishly.
Ryn shook her head. She hadn't asked him to, hadn't mentioned her growing level of discomfort because she hadn't wanted to delay them. "It's fine, really. I'm gonna walk around, use the ladies' room." Being pregnant was a little more taxing on her human form than usual. Her bladder did not appreciate being squished, and she felt like a blimp.
As she shuffled her way to the restroom, Dean popped open the gas tank to fill up the Impala, and Sam jogged into the quick-mart, probably to get some more snacks and water bottles. The ladies' room was filthy, but beggars couldn't complain. Ryn scrubbed her hands thoroughly with soap and water, and then simply used the skirt of her dress to dry them.
She had just stepped out and was letting the door swing shut behind her, when a shadow lunged from between it and the wall, silver glinting in a shard of sunlight.
Ryn shot her hands out and caught the wrist that held the angel blade inches before it plunged into her stomach, eyes wide as her attacker's flashed blue for a brief moment. The angel sneered at her, and tried to give the blade another thrust. Ryn managed to keep a firm hold on his arm, keeping that precarious distance between the tip of the blade and her stomach, but the force slammed her back against the wall and she cried out in pain and terror.
Gritting her teeth, she flung herself to the side. The angel blade drove forward, grazing the inside of her arm instead. Searing fire erupted from the cut, and Ryn stumbled into a dumpster.
The angel whirled, seething as he lumbered forward to bear down on her. But then the tip of a blade suddenly punched through the back of his neck and out his mouth, and a nova of blinding light exploded a split second later. Ryn threw an arm up to shield her eyes.
"Oh god," Sam's voice filled the space next to her, and she blinked to find him at her side, hands gripping her arm above and below the fiery sting needling her for attention.
The attacker's body dropped, revealing the wrathful visage of Castiel standing behind him. "Ryn!" His worried voice sounded like the crack of thunder in her ears.
"Shit," Sam continued muttering. "Are you hurt anywhere else? Is the baby okay?"
"We're okay," she said, albeit shakily. "It's just a scratch." She glanced down, vision blurring slightly at the sight of torn flesh and bright scarlet trickling down her elbow and onto the ground. She suddenly felt very hot, fire quickening in her blood. Ryn inhaled sharply and tried to suppress it.
"We need to go," Castiel said urgently.
Sam tugged at her arm, keeping a firm grip on her as he and Castiel flanked her on the way back to the Impala where Dean was hastily putting the nozzle back in its cradle and twisting the gas cap back on.
"There any more of them?" he demanded.
"I don't think so," Sam said, guiding Ryn to the backseat and helping her in. "Not right this second." He shut the door on her and went around to pop the trunk.
Castiel climbed in on the other side, face pinched with worry as he looked at her arm. She bit her lip and focused on her natural healing fire, but while it was stirring after the assault, nothing was happening. It seemed the baby's grace was making her equally vulnerable to weapons of Heaven at the moment. And that had been…oh god, he'd almost… Ryn sucked in a ragged gasp as the shock doused her in ice.
The doors up front opened, and then Dean and Sam were sliding into the car. Sam twisted around and passed Castiel a first-aid kit, which he quickly opened and began fumbling through. Dean started up the engine, and then peeled out of the gas station with a screeching of tires.
Ryn's pulse was racing, the baby's distress a palpable squirming, and it was taking all of her concentration not to let her inner fire explode.
Castiel ripped open a moist wipe and began to clean the wound on her arm. She closed her eyes and focused on the cool touch of his fingers, the gentle ministrations. Gradually, her breaths came slower, and she felt the raging inferno recede to a simmer.
Castiel unrolled a spool of gauze and then carefully wrapped it around her bicep, tucking the ends underneath each other. And then he put his arms around her and drew her against his chest. Ryn let herself sink against him, blinking back tears from frayed nerves and post adrenaline crash.
Castiel carded his fingers lightly through her hair, tucking her head under his chin. No one said anything, and she drifted into a dreamless sleep to the tender caresses of her angel and the mighty roar of the Impala.