Chapter 36

Highway to the Danger Zone

Dean laid there for as long as he could, knowing he would have to get up and have an even bigger battle with the damned military before the night's over. Everyone was counting on him but he just couldn't muster up the energy just yet.

While motivating his little brother out of the thoughts of failure, he enthusiastically tried return to the task at hand. He had successfully gotten to his feet earlier, only to sway dangerously in Sam's direction. Clearly something was amiss. His body wasn't quite up to handling that level of mobility. Figuring that tidbit of info out by the way Sam started running for his life from the bulk of the Drauglin's body shadowing the human and a good chunk of land surrounding him. Dean regained his equilibrium before he flattened his tiny brother.

Sam calmed his racing heart after seeing all of that mass shift dangerously close and overhead. Dean nodded to himself and sat again, admittedly with some difficulty, seeking a part of his lower body that wasn't injured in some way. He hissed in pain at the charred wounds, willing the blood to continue staying inside. Everything hurt. His wings fell to his sides from the lack of shits given. When did he get so big? Even the wings were making depressions in the torn up earth. Sam stayed back a little ways out of the splat zone. Dean then laid on his uninjured side, energy already used up.

Sam approached again with his hands tucking into his pockets. "Five more minutes isn't gonna hurt." and shrugged like it was no big deal, like they weren't already pushing the schedule. He yawned for effect and settled again leaning up against Dean's arm, idly checking out the spot where that bastard Walker had chewed on Dean's hand. He saw the damage and scrapes. Knowing that if he had been in that fist, he would have died. Dean pulled it away from Sam's hands and curled it under himself.

'I'ss nothin' Sammy.' he mumbled tiredly. 'Jaw hurts the most.' and turned his head to show where the missing spikes had been. 'If I was feeling up to it, I bet I could have done what he did and just bit that one spike off myself. The one that has the tracking chip. I already feel like shit, what's one more wound?' and shrugged. 'Sides, not gonna have this body long.' and caught himself, frowning inward and outwardly. 'Sorry, Dane. I damaged the goods.'

Dean ducked back to let Dane have some time out. Dane turned his head and wings twitched, wanting to come to attention but too tired to do much other then whimper softly at all of the spots of warm pain. The fire effectively cauterizing nearly all of the wounds but also killing the nerve endings in those areas. An itching, tingling sensation making its way down his body, crashing and reversing at his extremities, toes, wing and regular fingers and tail, before heading back to his head. He felt nauseated, but overall better. The pain receptors were dying off in those areas that had been burned, making it so that new waves of impulses were signaling false information to his brain. Declaring that all is well. The pain receding from the wounds themselves but not the still living tissue surrounding them. Those registered like a sore bruises over strained muscles. That is far preferable and welcomed. And it was all thanks to the quick action of Sam and Dean. Stopping the blood flow before he passed out. Dane managed a slight, barely there grin, 'The pain's going away.' he said and looked to Sam. Sam who was no bigger then his finger, had saved his life. At great peril to his own while the immense body thrashed wildly. He'd been lost in unbearable pain, Dean taking the brunt of it and handling the body so Dane wouldn't have to feel it as much. He did feel it, Dean couldn't block it all, and what he felt was horrible, he could only imagine what Dean felt.

The different strengths of humans.

'Thank you.'

Sam's face flushed. Less then half an hour ago, he had set that body on fire and now he's being thanked for it. He knew it was necessary but being the cause of that writhing agony was too much. Muscling through the feelings and memories to deal with later was hardly working. He felt like one of those torturers, putting them in so much pain after the enemy left... But now he's being thanked by Dane who had been dragged into the battle in the first place. Shit, the charred black spots haven't even stopped smoking yet! His gaze went to the river, wondering if it would be best to insist he gets in there to soothe the literal burn marks. He could insist on it, but bossing around anyone right now felt wrong. Even if it would help, he can't demand they do anything at all after that near fight to the death.

They would have likely moved on if Sam wasn't at the fork. But he was here, and Dean had to stop and save him. Sam'll let them lead from here on, walking alongside and keeping watch, while his brother just focus's on not falling over. Sam was distracted when Dane moved his hand a little and gently tapped Sam's stretched out leg.

'This is not your fault.' He said firmly if a little tired. 'We would have run into my... that thing sooner or later.' Dane looked like he had something disgusting in his mouth. Clenching his eyes closed and breathing out the stress, 'At least we wont have to worry about him at the base.' He mumbled, sleep pulling at his bones but he wanted to get this out there so Sam could understand. He curled his long black claw around the tiny leg to pull Sam's attention again. 'Just, just think about it. He's not at the base, just another thing we wont have to think about. Plan for.' He gathered up another breath, 'The others are fine. They only have humans to battle.' his little speech took a lot out of him and he rested his head on the ground again. Muffling a grunt at the sting from his bloody jaw. 'Not your fault, I'm grateful for your help.' and quirked a corner of his mouth in a grin before sighing and closing his eyes again. Dane then said, 'Your turn, Dean. I want to sleep.' And waited. A few seconds pass. 'Dean?'

Sam looked behind himself at the face, eyes still closed but now tight in concentration.

'Dean? You there?'

Sam sprung to his feet, hands on the long muzzle, halfway between trying to shake or coax. "Dean?"

Dane opened up his tired eyes to see the little human leaning over the bridge of his muzzle in his attempt to see both eyes at the same time. He could only imagine what he looks like to something so small. Every facial movement clear as day, nothing hidden. He tried for nonchalance to diffuse the tension he could feel rising in those hands. 'I guess he's sleeping... or something.'

"You don't know?!" Sam's mind raced. Fear spiking. The two were in perfect sync. There's no way Dane wouldn't know. They were able to swap places in mid flight, leap, and fight. Why weren't they able to do it when peacefully laying down?

'It's ok, Sam. Calm down.' Dane sighed. 'And don't say you are, I can tell, you know.' and sniffed the air. With the human standing right next to him, he got every trace of feeling. A full blown panic attack is coming. He slowly nosed Sam's side to back up a little. Very mindful that every move with the biped so close could mean injury if he wasn't paying attention. He was nearly too tired to differentiate a shove versus nudge.

'Look, we just need another minute. You rest up too. Call the others and let them know what's going on. I'll be ready in a little bit.' Dane looked at Sam who was staring off into space for a second. No doubt trying to think of ways to bring his brother to the fore without hurting Dane in the process. Dane took no offense to it. He's wondering about Dean's lack of aware presence as well. Not as worried as Sam, since Dane could still feel that Dean-ish spark in there, it just wasn't lighting up for him when he called for it.

Sam nodded a little frantically, needing something to do before he freaks out again. Feeling like he's loosing his brother anyways. All this, all these things they overcame to get here, only to lose him now? Old fears rearing their ugly faces. He can't fall apart right now. Just can't. He took deep breaths and calmed down a little as he noticed that Dane really wasn't worried or stressed about it. They may not have started off on excellent terms, but Sam knew that Dane would be showing some sign of distress if Dean completely vanished.

'It's fine, Sam.' Dane whispered, half asleep. 'He's still here.' and from one breath to the next, fell asleep. Face relaxing and breath's puffing up some loose dirt.

Sam watched for another minute, making sure it was a peaceful rest before falling back into Hunter mode. He called Meg first and foremost. Thankful that he got her on the line to delay the plan by an hour. He checked his watch. They were supposed to be at the outer perimeter right now. She was standing at the controls and gaining enough courage to start when her cell rang. She viciously cursed him out for the interruption, but he quickly explained why. His eyes widened a little bit when he heard Meg trying not to openly cry on the phone. Jolting back to the fact that Meg always cared greatly for his brother. Back at Azazel's zoo, she was his only friend and ally. The person that kept him going during those cold cruel months. She even got him out of there, but she couldn't be blamed for what happened afterwards. She was simply one person and needed an army to get Dean out of there. Of course she'd be upset at hearing what happened to him. Sam dreaded how much more Castiel would react...

He hastily said, "He's alive, just injured. We will still get there, it will just take a bit. But, good news, we wont have to worry about Walker anymore. Dean and Dane kicked his ass. If Walker's not dead of his wounds, he's laying in the woods somewhere, taking time to recover far away from the base. Either way, he didn't want to come with us, he just wanted out." Sam collected himself and said, "The General probably already knows this, but wont tell anyone until later." he pushed out the sick feeling in his stomach to say, "Gordon killed all of the solders that were out with him. He.. he ate them."

The gasp from the other end was heartbreaking. He let the phone drop to his side for a second to compose himself as well. That could have been his fate. Easily. His traitorous eyes went to the slumbering Drauglin's mouth, the fangs glinting in the sun, flammable saliva dripping from them. Even the spray is unbreathable, choking, vile. What did those men go through before finally being swallowed? Memories of his time in Dean's mouth. Knowing for fact that he was helpless to stop the dragon from doing whatever the fuck it wants to do. And in walker's case, he did. There was blood all over his mouth, and a detail probably too small for Dean to have made out but chilled sam to his soul. A bloody hand print on the side of Walker's mouth. A last ditch effort to climb out before...

Sam held his free hand up to his mouth, willing the hint of vomit to go back down. Swallowing hard and wishing he was anywhere but here. Talking about anything but this. To anyone but her. She'd probably ran into those soldiers. Knew their names, their families. They might have even been friends.

"I'm sorry." he choked out, "It was quick, painless." he winced, knowing for a fact that was a blatant lie but there was no way in fucking hell he would tell her the details. That humans apparently taste amazing to dragons. That Dean and Dane were probably fighting their instincts all the time. It was easy to forget that. He never had the urge to eat intelligent life forms before, so in the back of his mind, no one would. Only monsters do that. And he just couldn't think of that Drauglin as a monster because it was his Dean.

However, it looks like some of the myths and legends is true. They just knew the good ones that had some self control. How short their story would be if that were otherwise. Sam and Bobby never would have made it out of Dean's nest. Cricket would have likely either eaten them, or turned them. Either way he would have gone down that throat towards the end of this life. He shivered.

"Be very, very careful around Cricket, Meg." he warned. Practically hearing her nod on the other end before she said she would.

Meg sniffed and wiped off her eyes and said, "She wouldn't do that. She loves people. Hell, at different times, she had five humans in her mouth and never hurt them, she just did it to turn them into her offspring." Meg thought about it and added, "And she didn't have to change Walker. They forced him down her throat and she chose to turn him rather then digest him. She must have figured out that he wasn't normal food and did it. Ungh, I just had a thought. It was almost like rape. If you think about it, they forced her to make a baby against her will, then when she laid the egg, they took it from her. She didn't even get the chance to see him, raise him..."

"That's horrible." Sam whispered. Mind racing to what could have happened if Walker was allowed to be raised the right way. If memories of his old life weren't pulled front and center by the military the second he was born again. They had minimal use for a wild monster, but a Hunter in those skins would be priceless. Did the military even give a shit that Cricket could have just digested him instead? Would it have been better? Those soldiers would still be alive right now.

"None of them deserved what they got. This is just so messed up." Some fabric shuffling, sounds as if she's hiding the phone from view. "She's safe. And worth saving." She whispered, not wanting to be found in the closet next to the satellite control room. She's gonna have to find somewhere new to hide out for the next hour or so. Unable to go about her regular routine because she might end up half the base away from where she needs to be when the whole thing starts. She wished she could just hang with Cricket the whole time, calm her fears. She had to explain what she could so that the Drauglin mother was ready when the time came. It must be very difficult for the old girl to conceal her excitement after all these months without seeing the sun, or feeling nature. Cricket deserved freedom.

Sam was quick to defend his earlier statement, "Of course! Yeah, yeah, sure. We're still coming for you both. I just thought... that you should know." he exhaled, "You should still be cautious around her."

"I appreciate the concern, Sam." Meg tried not to sound dismissive, holding in a breath to compose herself. Sam's only trying to help. "Let me know when to start."

"Of course." He said readily and then, "Don't worry about calling the others, I got it."

They hung up after their, 'Good lucks,' and then Sam checked on the Drauglin again, still deep asleep. Sam hoped that Dane was able to see Dean in there, make sure he's alright. He pulled over the few weapons that survived the stomping and while reloading the pistols and spare clips he dropped, he called up Castiel and Balthazar next. Those two would be closest to the base after Meg.

Cas was beside himself. Swerving off of the road and hyperventilating. Balthazar was able to grab the wheel and right the truck before it overturned in the steep ditch along the road. Castiel had enough sense to put the truck in park to free up his hands to wrestle the phone from his best friends hands. "What?!" he shouted into the phone. Worry and fear and dread all packed into that one word.

Sam sighed and repeated himself, downplaying Dean's injuries a little. Focusing more on describing how admirably he fought against Walker and that they should keep an eye out for Walker down the road, but not worry about him returning to the base. Since it was plain as day that he was trying to escape from it. Sam didn't have to understand Walker's speech to figure that much out. As he talked, he watched the sleeping Drauglin and circled around the area. Mentally cataloging all that he'd need to do to hide Dean's tracks but giving up before he even started. The military knew that they were out here and at the moment they'd be their biggest enemies out here. There was no point hiding it. In fact, all of the blood spilled might make some of the remaining soldiers think twice about engaging them. If they ran into what's left of Walker, all the better. It would show that Dean's not to be messed with. He had half a mind to sic the military on walker, give them his last known coordinates or destination so they can end that bastard for good. Rally their forces against the injured Dragon. But, that might backfire on them, figuring that Dean would be injured as well and more of an immediate threat. Sam dismissed the idea before saying it. Instead talking about how much better Dean's doing now that he's resting. The wounds showing no sign of reopening. Dean looked like he'd need to finish shedding soon, that might clear up a lot of the surface marks. That one large scale was removed from his flank, and already it looked like the area around it was about to come loose on its own. Not yet. Dean needs all the bodily protection he can get.

Castiel's hands sweat and his jaw was slack as all of his attention was on Sam's words. Studying every one and the tone behind them. Interrupting rarely to get a clearer picture of the events. "But he's alright? He's alive?"

"Yeah, he's beat up, but he's still breathing. We're just gonna take a break here before going closer. I already called Meg up, she's put the thing on hold too. I know we've got to do this today. We don't have a choice." He dropped the cell to his side again, thumping it against his leg. This was such a cluster fuck. He lifted it to his ear again, "Gordon's gone but he left his tracking chip in the spike he ripped from his own spine. I don't know how he's not paralyzed right now. But, the damned thing is too heavy for me to lift so it's still sitting nearby. Which means I gotta get Dean moving before the reinforcements come here. Even if I manage to get it into the river for the current to take it away, it would just end up at the base – right where we're going."

Sam heard Balthazar in the background and answered before Castiel relayed his question, "Dragon fire can't destroy it. They would have thought of that."

Silence followed. Sam's mouth thinned. "Hey, hey look, lemme call up Bobby and Rufus and let them know what's going on. All we need is a break to let Dean rest. I'll deal with the soldiers if they come here." He paused for a second but it seems as though either the connection was lost, or Cas was the one at a loss for words. "So I will call you when we're leaving. Good luck, guys. Bye." and hung up. His free hand running down his face and idly scratching at his barely there beard.

There wasn't anything he could do about the spike with the embedded tracking chip, so he just called up Bobby and Rufus. They were already done retrieving all the supplies they'd need for the all important spell to change both Dane and Cricket human again. The ritual for the back up plan needed some ultra fresh ingredients. But that was more of a weak alternative, not as guaranteed or morally right, and it also requiring a blood sacrifice. The third option was a merciful death with a spell that would render the dragon unconscious in a coma like state and it would die peacefully when it's heart just stops. A hex bag that was supersized for its larger victims. They made two of everything for Cricket and Dean/Dane. They'd give them the choice first unless the dragons didn't give them one, where everyone's lives were at stake instead of the two.

The fourth plan... that truly was a last ditch effort. Unpredictable in the outcome. Sam didn't even want to think about it. The first one had to work because frankly, the rest might be worse then what they have right now.

There was a stirring of muscles that rustled the shrubs that the dragon had landed on. Sam spun around and went to the muzzle, gently checking on the breaths and with both hands, hoisted up one eyelid that weighed more then he was expecting. The pupil contracted at the light and it squeezed shut on his fingers, the face wincing at the feel of something stuck in his eye before Sam managed to pull his hands out again.

"Sorry! Sorry about that. You ok?" Sam said, putting his hand along the eyebrow ridge instead and running it along. "Gotta let me know how you're doing."

A low grumble was an answer and he forced a smile. "Come on, I thought you promised me we'd go after some bad guys." The grumble got a little louder and the eye squinted open, darting over Sam's small form too close to focus.

'Sure... ok.' he heard him say tiredly. Next to him, the side fan ear shot forward and pat Sam's back. 'Back up a bit, ya face hugging zenomorph.'

The grin on Sam's face turned genuine. Dane wouldn't know that movie reference of Aliens. He draped himself over Dean's nose and hugged him hard. The eyes cracked open just enough to roll at his little brother's antics. The muzzle started to lift very slowly, giving Sam a moment where his feet were off the ground to give him a chance to choose to ride along on up, or get off now. He got off. No sense making Dean work hard to keep his head perfectly level and move at the same time.

The distant sound of an engine was heard by both, Dean's fans spreading and triangulating the source. 'Helicopter.' he grumbled. 'Jus what we need.'

"Maybe it's looking for Gordon." Sam hoped. He felt the puff of air from Dean's lips at how much their luck would have to change for that to happen.

'Doesn't matter, I feel better now.' Dean announced and once Sam was a decent distance away, he lifted his head fully and straightened up his body. Checking over the healing injuries. No new blood seeped out. He looked like he got in a bar brawl, nothing too heavy to handle. 'I just need to wash this blood off. I'm just glad it's not all mine. That Gordon looked like one of them vampires from True Blood. Ya know, when they exploded after getting staked?' Dean hoisted himself into a stand, tottering to his side before a wing snapped out and righted himself, pushing against a couple of trees. 'The monsters in that show are terribly inaccurate, but still a good show.' Dean talked to distract himself just enough to forget about the lingering pain around his wounds. Sam joining in once he caught on the intent of the mindless prattle.

Sam picked up all of the spikes that Walker had torn from Dean's jaw, they might come in handy later or make nice conversation pieces. In either case, he didn't want them to be left strewn about the clearing. He gathered them up into his munitions bag, idly inspecting the smallest one that was about the size of a football, to see how it's formed and studying it to figure out if they'd be able to remove the tracking chip in Dean's shoulder spine in a less drastic and painful way that Walker did. He'd have to ask Meg if Cricket had one as well. No doubt she did. Just one more thing to think about. Sam talked with Dean about if an EM pulse would have any effect on them, or if the one in Cricket's spine was partly made of radioactive isotopes that the military could detect with scanners. Or if his were both electrical and radioactive. It would have to be low level radiation because humans had to work with them in close proximity if all had gone to their original plans. "We're gonna need a chainsaw." he frowned. Dean unconsciously twitched his shoulders. The sheered off spike was clear as day, large as an oval coffee table with tree like rings of growth that were pretty faint but there. The chip had to be only a foot or two further down. They need to get it out sometime before the spell or else it might interfere with it. Cricket would need some convincing to allow them to touch her there with machines. That's a conversation for later. Focus on here and now.

Sam walked in front of Dean towards the water since his eyesight was clearly anything but clear. His left one bloodshot and the right was swelling. Sam made sure to make a little bit of sound, scuffing his feet along the ground to lead him to water without being too obvious about it. He could tell Dean was relying on it by watching the fans twitch at every step he took. Now at the river's edge Dean had no problem walking in and submerging himself up to his spikes in the water. Letting it swell in the banks enough to finish the job and cover him head to toe. Head aimed upstream because he didn't want to see how dirty it was getting. Wings stretching to both sides and scooping water up over himself, wings needing to be stretched out one part at a time to get everything from between its stretchy webbing. Washing away the burnt scales that were just barely hanging on, and of course, the dried blood and charred bits. The dirt and feel of the fight. The water felt nice and cold and soothed his too hot muscles. Waking him up better then anything.

Sam walked to the large boulder in the fork again for a partially unobstructed look around. The trees too tall to see past elsewhere. The helicopter sounded closer but also not. Sound echoing weirdly around the cliffs and hills.

Dean drank his fill and shook again under the water, a new plume of filth coming out from under the scales each time. Once he was satisfied, and the sounds of machines were getting heard over the rushing water, Dean sighed again and stood back up from the water. He didn't even ask permission when he strode to the fork and grabbed Sam in his hand. Lifting him up to his shoulder. Sam had plenty of foot holds and tried very hard to avoid the number of wounds and scrapes along the hide. Settling down even as Dean started walking again. Sam got a text that said Bobby and Rufus were nearly at the end of the woods, a halfway point on the highway that separated the Winchester's from the base. The brothers saw the Impala on the side of the road closest to them, before crossing the bridge and pretending to look at the engine while they waited. Waving off the few people that stopped to help.

'This is your stop from the D train.' Dean announced and laid down while still in the river, extending a wing like a bridge to the land. 'I'll see you when I get there.'

It looked like Sam was about to protest when Dean used his other wing thumb to shove at Sam's body, making it slip off the other side. Sam cussed as he landed in the webbing of the extended wing between Dean's elbow and where it connected further down his body towards his hips. Sam regained his balance but couldn't really stand on the hammock like membrane of his wing. He resorted to half crouching half crawling to shore. Dean watched the whole trip carefully, and once Sam was kissing land, he lifted up the very end of the wing tip and ruffled Sam's hair before pulling away from the expected reprimanding punch. But really, Sam was impressed with how much dexterity and precision Dean regained to do that move without knocking Sam over. It was like petting a mouse with the end of a chopstick attached to the finger of an extended arm. Well over a hundred feet long.

Bobby and Rufus gave a quick wave to Dean who nodded back, submerging himself once again and slinking down the now much wider river. He practically disappeared under the churning surface, the only part visible to their trained eyes were the ends of his horns and nostrils and even then it could be mistaken for a log in the water. He seemed to be more fit for the fight ahead, so Sam trudged up the bridge over the river to meet up with the other Hunters. Making the call to Meg and then Cas to get started. The three of them stayed on the bridge just long enough to watch Dean's form slip under it and past. The view from overhead was staggering and unexpected. His body moved smoothly and his camouflage was perfect for the sand and rock covered bottom.

Dean couldn't really tell where he was without lifting his head every once in awhile to check, each time giving him mini panic attacks that he will draw too much attention but finding he was lagging behind. The tower for the base's communication transmissions still in the distance blinking away. He swam a little faster while trying to keep from being noticed. There were no trees around now, just short shrubs along the river where it was hard to mow the foliage back. The rest of the lands were left to short grasses. As he rounded a gradual curve, he saw a golf ball land in the water ahead. He rolled his eyes and spit the golf ball back up onto the shore to keep the golfers from searching too close. He lifted his head just enough to hear the ladies talk about how peculiar that ball bounce was but beyond that didn't question it and kept on with their game. Dean sighed with relief, blowing some bubbles in the act.

Dean looked inwardly, Dane was awful quiet. 'How you doing?'

Dane lifted his head from his curled up cocoon and shrugged. Choosing to bear the marks of the battle but being only a dozen or so feet tall. He hunched inwardly again and exhaled into the ground.

'Dane, I can practically feel your angst. Spill.'

Dane uncurled a little and said, 'I'm just tired, OK? Leave me be.' Some more mental nudging had Dane growling. 'You can't make me talk if I don't want to! I'm not a nestling, Dean!'

At that outburst and spike of pain through his head in the form of a brief migraine, Dean backed off and looked away. 'Sorry I asked.'

Dane snorted out and huffed angrily. 'Since when do you ask.' and sneered. 'You demand. Like it's your right to know. Who the hell said I needed you to look after me?'

Dean kept on making his way downstream. Nearing the tower. 'Sorry.' he mumbled. Not knowing what the hell that was all about but suspecting something Drauglin-ey and was silent for a little while. He kept on seeing flashes of Walker and his mother, overlapping. Dane must be worried about what they'll find when they get to her. Dean kept that thought to himself. It might not be it at all, just Dane thinking about what Dean must be thinking Dane's thinking about. His head hurt. Just keep swimming. Dory was awesome. Simple statements that mean more. Just keep swimming. Wonder if Aunt Ness speaks whale now... he'll have to ask.

Dane rolled his eyes and huffed irritably again. Inane biped stuff. Dean was now thinking about colorful fish that talked. Nonsense. He could still feel Dean subconsciously trying to figure out how to make Dane happy again. He'd get ticked, but it's not like it was intended. Just a feeling more then anything. But the fact that he wouldn't drop it though...

The sound of distant helicopters in the air distracted Dean. He had no idea what set Dane off, maybe they weren't in tune as he thought. 'But..' Dean nearly winced at the abrupt ticked off scrape of claws in the mindscapes rocks. 'I do need to know... if, you want me to... ya know, keep control when we get there.'

'Whatever.' Dane exhaled sharply, and looked away.

He must not have felt the need to elaborate. The awkward silence stretched for a few seconds. 'Ok... good. I mean. Ok.' Dean bit the inside of his lower lip. Wracking his brain for what to do now that his back-up is pissed at him. He looked up from the river bank. 'Shit.'

'What now?' Dane asked as if Dean was the cause of all his problems. Dean, being the mature adult he is, regally ignored it like a cat ignoring the person it's sitting on. For at least a second or two. On principal alone.

'We got company.' Dean said and heard the mechanical rumble of several heavy things rolling along the ground and coming up fast. 'They know where we are.' and hated that he had to ditch cover so soon. So close to the base he could see the tower clearly. Practically read the serial numbers on the large dish's. He jumped out of the river and shook himself off of the water, the whole time roaring at the oncoming front. Wings splayed out as wide as they could go and he was glad to see at least some of the trucks and vehicles slow and stop, drifting and sliding sideways with the armed soldiers on top holding on for dear life.

Dean was hoping for a longer stunned silence then what he got when they opened fire on him. He pulled his wings in to reduce the target size and charged right at them. He leaped over 5 of the dozen trucks and armored SUV's and headed towards the highway. He slowed just enough for them to catch up as he aligned himself with the highway leading away from the base, civilians screeching off the road, several car accidents but no more then fender benders. Dean's heart lurched at the sight, he kept on running and soon a siren went off all along the road. This must be reserved for non-combat base employees because the second the siren started going off, all the cars pulled over to the median but no one got out. He could just barely see them hunching down in their cars. That worked out even better!

He ran along the pavement, listening to all of the ones chasing him gain access to the highway with a little difficulty getting over the steep curbs and dropping down into the street. To Dean it was barely an inch of difference but to them it was at least a foot down from the ground to the street. Dean's heavy hands and feet dug into the thick concrete with every stomp and thrust down that propelled him forward. His weight alone cracking the road like egg shells as he went. New holes not quite large enough to pop their tires, but they'd have to repave the whole damn thing after today's stunt.

He had an idea and started to drool and spit as he ran, letting off as much liquid from his mouth as possible in a nearly continuous line straight down the center of the split highway.

Dean barreled down the wide road, looking more like a narrow sidewalk to him. From the start he lowered his wings to each side and dragging his huge clawed wing thumbs into the cement. Angling them just right, digging in and curling the road to make a long line of churned up rocky rubble three feet high in most places. The street turned into a surfers ideal wave as he went. His right wing taking out the whole right lane of highway, the left wing arching over the line of regular cars and trucks to reach the oncoming part of the highway and churning and curling up the nearest fast lane on that side. All of the small cars were in his wings shadow at one point as it stretched over their heads, blocking out the sun for a split second before he hurled on by. He made it look like it was an unconscious act, drooping wings to drag on the ground due to being too tired to hold them up. Soon, the growing number of assault vehicles caught up to him as he really did struggle to move forward with the friction and resistance he's feeling through his wing thumbs. The cement started getting really heavy, too hard to force upright.

As he neared an overpass he saw a helicopter soar in from out of nowhere. Pausing his efforts he spun around and stomped hard on the ground, startling his pursuers to slam on the brakes or else hit him head on. They'd just bounce off of him or he'd easily smash them under a foot. Most backed up, while the soldiers on top resumed their attack, shooting everything at him at once. It felt like needles on his scales, sharp enough to punch through his outer layer but never went too deep. If he sheds, all those bullets would fall off. He was eternally grateful for the fact that he'd been too lazy to finish shedding earlier. Some of the soldiers concentrated their efforts on certain places and he roared at them. The helicopter now taking up arms. Equipped with guns bigger then what the trucks had. Dean spotted a missile or two. Fucking shit! They'll level the damned place if they use those!

'Oh that's it!' Dean hunched low and spread out his wings, flapping down hard once then twice and got enough height to flap more frequently to accelerate into the air in a tight circle. He then wound around and above the helicopter. It was larger then most, sporting a hold that was about the size of a semi's cargo container. In that moment, he really felt like Godzilla or King Kong because he reached out and grabbed the underside of the chopper and turned it away on it's side for a second to keep the spinning blades away from his face. He slowed his wing beats and half landed on the highway again, both hands gripping the helicopter in a firm hold. He then went about angling the chopper towards the bridge slowly and making the blades connect with the sturdy structure and fly off one by one as they spun into the underside of the bridge. One of his wings snapped out to halt the projectiles from the convoy and people on the ground. He had also lifted his head over the bridge to protect his face but still felt the sting of cuts all over his chest from the disintegrating sharp blades. Thankful that once they lost their momentum, they didn't cut deeper then a few inches. He'd live. The sound of the machines whirred to a stop and the commotion died out below. His hands felt around the belly of the thing and backed up on his haunches to look at it again. The pilot and several others in uniform all sprinted from the craft now that it was just a few feet from the ground.

Dean sighed in relief that this stunt didn't get anyone hurt. Besides himself. Shit. He looked at the underside of his wing and saw a few bits of propeller metal lodged in through his wing membrane. That sucks. He licked at the blades that skewered his wing before gingerly biting the metal and tugging them back out. Whimpering at the pain and then licking it further, turning around as he did so to keep an eye on his murderous audience.

Everyone was either in the trucks or behind them, getting ready for another shootout. Some running away, over the churned up street on both sides. He winced as he folded his wings up a little, just to make sure that he could before facing the hundred or so humans more fully. He spread his wings out wide and roared at them. They didn't move. Clearly waiting for an order from a leader that was debating their options. He turned slightly and looked at the bridge, one clawed finger went to his mouth and he sucked on it for a second, letting his saliva coat it enough and wrote out two words on the side of the bridge, smirking at the convoy as he then sparked a flame in his mouth, igniting his finger and touched the letters. The flames leapt from one letter to the next, burning into the hard surface that wont ever be wholly washed away.

Never let it be said that he didn't have a flair for the dramatic when he want's to show off. Touched the flaming claw to his wing wounds as the soldiers were reading and re-reading that two worded question. Processing the request as he calmly set fire to his wings to cauterize the wounds. Suppressing the flinch of pain to look just that much more bad ass.

'Well?' he chirped at them, looking at the words that were half melting the cement as they burned:

GIVE UP?

The humans all looked at the words, their opponent and at each other. Some asshole from the back shot at Dean. Then as if the dam broke, they all opened fire again. Dean sighed and erased the question mark's burning curl with his thumb, turning it into GIVE UP.

A demand now, that they didn't heed either. Dean frowned and lifted up a couple of trucks that were over the wet line that trailed down the street and set them aside like he was just arranging chess pieces for a game. The drivers and passengers screaming at the gigantic hand that curled around them, crunching the metal and lifting it off the ground and setting it down again off to the side. Convinced the clawed fingers were going to tighten just a fraction more, and crush their bodies completely into the vehicles. He had the strength to do so. They had been warned. Now they were thanking God for being spared and after wrestling with the bent door frames, they exited and ran away without further preamble. Dean grinned after them. The smart ones.

The arranging done, he looked down the long churned up street turned deep gutter.

Dean made a show of shrugging helplessly and with his mouth still on fire, he let in more air to aid in the flames that rushed and swirled in his breaths like mini-tornadoes, and spit out a lougie onto the street. At once, the whole line of liquid accelerant from his throat, and spit ignited and the flames danced high and wide as they raced down the entire length of the highway he'd run down. Separating the soldiers from each other and disorientating them.

Dean had his wings still open, and admired his handiwork. The humans were all alive but trapped, they'd need to turn all the cars around and head back the way they came to get out of the cement trench he formed. So long as they didn't willfully get into the flames, they should be fine. He saved a car from exploding by moving it further to the side and another from being run into by the rash driving of one of the large trucks. He grabbed that truck and slowly turned it on it's side so the asshole driver wouldn't plow into anyone as he tried to escape. He did the same to the other large trucks, aiming this way and that and pinning them together away from the flames to make them useless to the people. A twenty car pileup with no casualties and minimal damage, considering. Most of the soldiers and non-combat workers were already running away in all directions which suited him just fine. It would take time to get organized again, and that's assuming they'd want to return to that base.

From the scent of things, they'd be having nightmares for years to come. He felt a little bad about that, but it was necessary. At least they were alive to have those nightmares. He could have easily killed everyone there. Ridiculously efficient and effortless if he just used his feet to stomp them into the ground as he walked. Not needing to waste his fire spray. But this was more effective to keep his own conscience clear.

In this one move, he successfully gotten rid of nearly all of their vehicles and disbursed all of the field soldiers. He used a wing to cheekily pat himself on the back. Spying the tanks entering the opposite end of the street now, he licked his lips. This was too easy. He waited around for them to get good and close before taking flight over everyone's heads and landing at the start of his street bowl and churning that cement up the most. Nothing with wheels could get out but the people were alright.

Several more helicopters were now heading towards him as he flew promptly towards the base. In the distance he could see the tower again, the power light no longer winking. Meg was damned good. All communication is shut off now. That also means that Cas and Balthazar are at the front gate. A plan to buzz the tower forming in his mind as he hummed the theme song to Top Gun.

"I understand why we had to take the truck, because the Impala is far too recognizable as the one we used in Dean's escape, but I am used to my own new truck. This is... rickety." Castiel complained as he shifted gears again. Just for something to distract his nerves and anxiety from the meeting ahead. "Ok, got the script memorized?" Castiel's hands fidgeted on the steering wheel. Eyes looking back to the hiding place for his and Balthazar's guns more frequently.

"I work better if I'm riffing. It'll be fine." Balth assuaged his friend's nerves and pointed out the front gate ahead. "I'll start."

Castiel bit his lip and pulled up to the first check point, eyes darting everywhere as two MP's came out with a German Shepherd to sniff out their truck. Two other guards coming to each cab window with flashlights in one hand and the other resting on their holstered guns.

"Evening gentlemen!" Balth started.

A hand went up to silence him. The team of MP's checking out the truck in silence – dog barking at the hidden compartment and hand signals made between them. "What is your business at this facility?"

Balth plastered on his grin again, "We were the head scientists under Michael Swordsman and wish to speak to General Naom, please."

The head guard motioned for them to hand over identification so they did. Taking it into the booth and talking on the phone to someone else. He came back with the wallets and handed them back. "What is the nature of the business you wish to discuss?"

Balthazar noting with a frown that the cash inside the wallets went missing. Wankers. He tired not to show he cares. "That's classified." and folded his arms. The guard was thoroughly unimpressed.

"State your business or turn around." He said with a note of threat behind it. No love for Michael's group.

Castiel's grip was getting white on the steering wheel, "We have a gift for the General!"

Balth swooped in, "To be handed over solely to the General. Not his Walmart greeter."

The guard was about to say something when his fingers went to the black comm. in his ear, nodding to himself and frowning. "Yes, Sir." he looked up and sneered. "Wait over there for further instructions." And waved them off to be in the care of the MP's and the dog that barked viciously at them. More murmuring talks between the increasing number of men in suits and gear. All glaring hatefully at them.

"Tough crowd." Balthazar mumbled. He could feel Cas tensing up. "It's gonna be ok. It's gonna work." he patted the large roundish dish in between them underneath the blanket.

There were an increasing number of people gathering at the entrance to a rather large building that could have been mistaken for a regular factory. Then, both of them recognize the General with his entourage of 'yes men'. He was present when Michael had first bought Dean from him. He did not look happy.

They approached the truck and the General waved for them to get out so they did and held their hands up to the soldiers with guns aimed at them. The General cleared his throat. "Make it quick."

"General Naom. My name is Balthazar and I had worked under Michael and my esteemed colleague, Mr. Castiel Novak. We wish to express our deepest regret for the actions of our employer."

The General cut in, "I know who you are. You stole my dragon. I want him back."

"Quick and to the point! Yes, Sir. We had once accompanied said dragon into the wilds but that was against our will entirely. We only recently escaped the fiends responsible." Balthazar looked to Castiel who nodded, looking like he wanted to throw up but keeping that stoic face in place. "We wish to align ourselves with your organization at this time due to the change in powers."

The General scoffed, "That is because you have no powers now." guessing what they were hinting at.

Balth looked embarrassed, "Yes, well, bygones good Sir. We have been around the massive brute for months and feel that we would be invaluable to your information gathering."

The General paced a little, eyeing them up and down. "New information? Such as?"

"The physicality of Spike's current status." Castiel finally spoke up. "His limitations and strengths, his habits and temperament."

"And what about his location?"

They looked at each other then the imposing General again. "The last known whereabouts were miles from here, when we escaped, the Drauglin was heading towards the mountain ranges to the west."

There was a lot of murmuring going on. Castiel must have slipped up somewhere, but couldn't figure out what he said was wrong. He felt Balthazar's hand in the small of his back, a solid anchor for him.

"Draug-lin?" the word unfamiliar on the General's tongue.

They both cursed internally. Castiel spoke up first. "One of the many things we discovered about his specie in our studying of him while being held captive ourselves."

The General studied them a little further and seemed to like what he was hearing. A flick of his hand and the guns were lowered, they felt like they could breath again. "Excellent. You will go with my men to the debriefing room to gain all the information you have and then I will decide if I want to keep you." he addressed Castiel.

"And me?" Balthazar raised his hand a little like a kid in school.

"You speak eloquently but you are no scientist. A conspiracy theorist alone. What do you have to offer?"

Balthazar's mouth dropped a little. He did his research. "A gift." he said quickly, "If you allow me to aide Mr. Novak, I will give it to you. I was his chief adviser and, and and..."

"Biological chemist. He also cracked the secret behind D- Spike's mental shifts."

An eyebrow raise to continue.

"Spike is not just one entity in that body. We discovered no less then three. Each one completely separate from the other." the trick to a good lie is to have part of it be the truth. This was the truth that they were pushing at the General to study and think about to convince him that everything is truth or at least, more factual then a bald faced lie.

The General went back to pacing slowly, hand on his face and looking at his men all waiting eagerly to agree with him. "Alright. You may come in. But hand over your gift first. I am curious."

Balthazar practically jumped in excitement and went back to the truck, pulling out the large, slightly bowl shaped disk still completely wrapped in a blanket. "It would be best if this were uncovered away from prying eyes." he winked and looked pointedly at the guards and soldiers that were all surrounding them in a loose crowd. "National Security and trade secrets and all that."

The General looked around too, apparently surprised to see the gathering and barked out an order to disburse. Balthazar carried the blanket wrapped gift inside and saw Meg duck around a corner. Resisting the knee jerk reaction to wink or show any sign that he knew her as a friend. Castiel missed noticing her entirely and that was probably for the best. The formerly married couple needed their game faces on.

They were ushered into a meeting room with General Naom and one other man, supposedly his second in command. Balth set the thing on the middle of the table.

"Just you wait and see this beauty!"

The General poked at it, it seemed lightweight, the x-ray wands didn't catch anything, and the bomb sniffing dogs barely batted an eye. He gingerly lifted up one corner of the blanket and his eyes gleamed a little. Uncovering it the rest of the way and running his finger on the top. Feeling the smooth surface that was interspersed with minor ridges and bumps. Soft as silk, but stronger then any known object for resisting intense forces per square inch. The size of it pointed to the fact that when it was shed, their quarry had grown in size. Freckles dotted the entire surface, some stronger in color, some blotched into the tan and brown camouflage.

"How big is my pet now?" the General's eyes practically twinkled.

Castiel's teeth ground a little at that so Balthazar answered. "50 feet the last we've seen."

The General whistled. Impressed. "Not as big as my dog, but still..." He felt along the edges and lifted it up, spun it around and looked at the underside with some concentration. "What is this?" he asked and the other man in the room came closer, frowning at the marks made on the underside. Cas and Balthazar's breaths hitched at the same time.

"That? That was there when he shed it. Craziest thing right? We suspect that there is a deeper meaning behind it. Lending credence to one of the lore's we encountered. The mysteries we have yet to solve, but will. You can feel how the lines are deep into the scales underside, they almost seemed chiseled into it." Castiel motioned for both men to touch it and the instant they did, they could not move.

"Ah, see, the reason why it feels chiseled is because it was, I did it." Balthazar smirked. The General looked absolutely livid but frozen stiff. "Powerful thing those stay-put spells are! Change one of the sigils and it can change it's intensity. Going from simply being stuck to it like glue, to everything staying put, including your mouths." His hand came up like he was going to console a small child. "But don't worry! We didn't make it all powerful to still your internal organs, and your ability to breath shallowly. Just the parts that touch the air wont be able to move much at all. Oh! Allow me." He said, and using the eraser end of a long pencil, closed the eyelids of both men, explaining. "So your eyes don't dry out before one of the Hunter community comes to free your dumb asses from it."

"You should've shown Hunters some respect. If you and Michael had, you might have had a chance... now? Every person that touches you two will get stuck as well. And none of them will be able to warn the next."

Balthazar's eyes twinkled, "The human centipede!" and laughed as they inched their way past the two living statues so they didn't touch them as they left. Locking and closing the door after themselves. They actually had a minute or two since it didn't take nearly as long to fool the General as they thought. They immediately went in search of the dragon herb for Balth and after that, the power switch for the tower.

Meg was already in the monitoring room and just waiting for them to show to kill the power and flip several other switches to hide that fact from the tech department. The base would be basically dead in the water.

Balthazar practically crowed with delight when he found the Dragon herb, labeled as Picececolus Drationaglie. It wasn't just a pound or two. It was nearly three hundred pounds. Clearly the military had better sources and means for collecting the herbs for cultivation. Balth quickly found a hand trolley to load it all up with Cas's help. Castiel reasoning being that the less the military has for disabling their dragons, the better. Giving Balthazar a nearly unlimited supply of a very potent drug was not on the top of his list but Balth's, who, for lack of a better term, was shitting kittens for how happy he was. It took all the brow beating and stern looks Castiel could muster to keep Balth from 'double checking' to see if it was the right plant, lighter already fiddling in his fingers.

"You're no fun." Balthazar pouted but still continued to wrap it up in several layers of military camouflaged tarp. Securing it for the trip after that in clear Saran-wrap to keep the scent muted from their dragons. No need to make them think it will be used against them. Dean would trust them, but Cricket might not. They would have to wait to load it onto their truck since it was still in the temporary holding lot for visitors of the base. They found the nearest door and stored it with a few empty boxes thrown on top to help hide its shape and true contents. They had to run to make it to Meg in time. The sheer volume of dragon herb took time from their schedule and they managed to successfully dodge the few befuddled scientists on their way down the halls. Being in a secured facility was a blessing and a curse. A blessing in that if you ever managed to get in, people already there would assume that you belonged there so they would ignore their presence. But the curse part of it, being the getting in and out with questionable goods. Those got attention.

Thankfully, the two of them could put out the impression of being important people because they were in their own social and professional circles. Several soldiers actually bowed out of their way as they raced passed, Balth saluting along the way. Unfamiliar with the customs of showing respect in the military branches, he just saluted everybody.

Meg ran into them and quickly ushered them into the surveillance room where two women were unconscious on the floor. "They're fine, it was just some stuff in their pastries, they'll wake up later."

Castiel frowned deeply, remembering that drugging people wasn't out of the question for his ex-wife. She did it to him as she moved her stuff out of their house. He was a little consoled in the fact that he didn't wake up with any side effects so he knew that these two ladies would be alright when they woke up in about 10 hours. He wondered how many others she drugged today with her delectable snacks. Working for the mess hall has its advantages.

Meg worked uneasily around the two of them, the history of their relationship and how it ended coming back to her now that they're once again in the same room. She still managed to instruct them on what to do to get the old footage and recordings to start once she turns off the live feeds. There was more then one camera at the base. It took all three of them several minutes to flip switches on every one of the cameras and sensors. They checked the readouts and grinned. They did it. No one at the main comm's noticed the glitch in feed. With that done, they made their way to the tower and it was a simple matter of cutting the power to it. A blinking light at the top stopped, the tower dead to the world. No one noticed besides them, Sam, Bobby and Rufus, and several miles away but soaring fast, Dean.

"Ok, Clarence." she grinned up at him, walking over and planting a kiss on his cheek. "See you on the other side." and smacked Balthazar's ass as she turned heel and strode back to Cricket's cell. Her raised heels clacking on the tile the whole way down in her own march.

Castiel's fingers grazed by the place where his ex-wife's lips pressed, tingling at the sensation. His mind swirling at what all that peck on the cheek meant as he watched her go down the long hallway without looking back. She turned a corner and kept on going. A couple of people had to swerve around the stunned man or run into him.

Balthazar frowned a little, knowing that his friend was pondering things that should have been laid to rest months ago. "Cassie? Let's go. Dean will be coming here soon and this place will be locked down tight. We need to get out before we are stuck here." He tugged on Cassie's sleeve. A moment to see the pain behind those blue eyes. "It was the cheek, Cassie. Not lips." he said sternly, helping break him out of the trance.

Castiel nodded absently, hand falling from his cheek and seeing Balthazar again before eyes dropping to his hands. "Yes... yes. It's nothing." and shook his head once before straightening his posture and heading towards the exit where they left the herb bundle. "This way."

The bundle was untouched and they hauled it out and off to the side, mindful of just the human guards and not camera's since all of the cameras were showing events from two days ago. Balthazar got his phone out and strode confidently up to the truck, waving dismissively at the bored guard there as he spoke loudly into the phone. "Yes! The General was pleased and couldn't wait to get started. He told us to head out immediately." Pausing for effect as if someone was talking on the other end. "Yes, yes. We are leaving now. General's orders. Yes. See you there!" and hung up the phone as he wrestled for the right key to the truck. "Thank you, Gentleman." he grinned and pulled the truck up to Castiel straight away as if he had been ordered to. Castiel didn't question it out loud, just helped him haul up the bundle and secure it in the back, even borrowing some tie down straps from the guards to make sure it didn't shift in transit.

Balthazar 'explained' to Castiel loud enough for the guard to hear if he was paying any attention at all, "The General said to go incognito to the place. He said we could use our truck since it's not registered with any military tags or ID's. This is just a milk run."

"Ah, I see. Smart." Castiel got behind the wheel and was very impressed with how well the act was being heard and ignored. Perfect. They made it all the way down the winding road to the final gate when they were stopped again. The guard that was there before was still on shift and sneering at the two of them.

He looked at them, then the bundle in the back. "What's in the back?"

Castiel could see that Balthazar was just about to lie through his teeth so he beat him to answering. "Picececolus Drationaglie."

Balth's eyes went wide. Castiel held his hand on the seat out of view and squeezed it.

"The General gave it to us to take to the other base."

A raised eyebrow, Balthazar shoved Castiel's side, hissing quietly, "Top secret!" And then addressed the guard. "There is no other base. We are taking it away to dispose of safely. There is an expiration date on the herb that will render it inert and useless to use against the dragons, but harmful for humans. It is part of the Passiflora Caerulea or the Blue Passion flower which contains cyanogenc glycoside which breaks down into cyanide. If you touch this stuff in just two days, you'll die. Your team is lucky that it hasn't expired yet. The Picececolus Drationaglie is the most dangerous plant in the whole northern hemisphere. That's why it was nearly eradicated back in the 1700's in England and never cultivated in the America's. Touching it, breathing in the particles from dried broken stems or leaves causes copious saliva, nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, anorexia, dyspepsia and seizures, before you die a day later." Balthazar shrugged. "Your scientists wouldn't know what hit them. Thankfully, it was kept in storage and out of the sunlight, but it will turn deadly. So. May we please help you rid the base of this heinous herb? Pretty please?" Balthazar said as sarcastically as possible. "Or, if you're not satisfied with us removing it, you could volunteer your services. Just make sure you do it quick, the internal temperature was already rising due to its decomposition. It needs to be burned far away from civilization or else the smoke could cause hallucinations and mass panic. But you already knew that."

The guard actually started looking a little worried.

Balthazar exhaled moodily. "Mr. Novak, could you kindly call the General back and tell him that his underling wants everyone in the base to die a horrible death instead of letting us DO OUR JOB." he shouted out of the window at the guard who jolted to the sudden rise in voice. He composed himself and eyed the two of them again. Hesitating and holding a hand up when Castiel raised his phone to his ear.

"Move along." he said and waved for the other guards to open the gate.

"Much obliged." Balthazar practically spat out and faced forward again. Squeezing Castiel's hand below the others eye line. One they were halfway past the double gate, a siren went off. Every person went on high alert. "Shit." he hissed, looking to Castiel to gun it but several metal posts were rising from the ground, triggered by the siren. They were stuck there. The guards held up their guns at the two in the truck and listened for orders.

"Should we run for it?" Castiel asked under his breath, Balth frowned.

A shadow covered both of them as the wind kicked up into a frenzy. A humming in the wind that sounded faintly familiar and Castiel squinted through the windshield when he heard words in it a moment later.

'Out along the edges, always where I burn to be, the further on the edge, the hotter the intensity.' A shadowy shape hiding among the clouds that hugged the smokestacks moved so quickly that they weren't sure what they saw. 'Highway to the danger zone, gonna take you right into the danger zone - '

The wind swirled and whipped around the truck, clouds parting as a massive shape dropped from the sky right over the truck, the humans fled in terror while Castiel and Balthazar ducked down in their seats. The ground quaked all around them from the heavy thuds. Then, more thuds accompanied a heat that came from above them. A roar and Castiel jerked himself upright in time to see a huge foreleg swing around to his side of the truck. Then the whole truck lurched to the right and Balthazar shot up in his seat, going for the door handle before being stilled by Castiel's hands. Balthazar's side lurched over next, grinding metal under their feet and the rear of the truck was crunched down, the front lifting and tottering.

'Shitdammit!' the voice cussed and righted the truck again. The passengers thrown side to side, holding on to anything they could. Clawed hands and feet gripped the truck around corners and it was lifted into the air by wings that eclipsed the sun. Balth buckled up as fast as his fumbling fingers could move. The entire truck rising and falling with each wing beat as the ground fell away, and the horizon rocked wildly before leveling out a fraction. Cas hung out the window to look up easier. From his angle he could only make out the chest scales and sometimes the head that bobbed in the air to gain leverage. Soon they were smoothing out the flight, soaring gracefully in the air, up and away. Bullets lodging into the underside of the truck as it was carried off to safety.

Cas and even Balth could hear the jovial tone as their rescuer continued his song, 'Heading into twilight, spreading out my wings tonight,' a heavy wing beat to lift up the truck a foot higher for a few seconds. The grip shifted and the claws dug in securely. The truck might not run right after this. Dean didn't seem to care so long as his people were safe. 'I've got you jumping off the track and shoving into overdrive!'

Balthazar finally looked around now that the ride felt more like a plane then roller coaster going off its tracks. "I know this song..."

Dean grinned wider, his singing is way better then any in-flight entertainment. A clawed finger tapped along with the beat under Balthazar's feet as he sang loudly, "Highway to the danger zone!" Swooping a little closer to the tree tops to give them a view that would rival any IMAX movie.