Twenty-two
They had been traveling with Kevin Tran, the prophet, for two days, using his mother's car. It had been a tense two days. Dean still wasn't speaking to Brooke because she had punched him two days earlier—which was fine with her. They had never exactly gotten along, and Brooke punching him hadn't helped matters. She couldn't even explain why she had punched him, except that he had caused her immense pain when he'd activated the anti-angel sigil, and she knew that it had hurt Castiel just as badly, if not worse, because he was an actual angel. So, she supposed, the punch had been a reaction to pain.
Sam was silent, mostly to avoid pissing either Dean or Brooke. Meg was her usual bitchy self, but Brooke did not mind her after spending time around her since Castiel had been in a coma. She'd even gotten used to the demon's true face, and hardly noticed it anymore. As for Kevin… Well, Kevin was a ball of nerves, curled around himself in the back seat, doing his best to sleep off his emotions, though it didn't seem to be doing much good. Every time he woke up, he had to remember where he was all over again.
The second night, as they drove through the rain, he woke up again, pulling his head away from the window where he'd been resting it, and stared at Brooke like he'd never seen her before, saying, "Oh, God."
"What?" Meg piped up on Brooke's right side.
"Nothing, nothing," Kevin said. "Just… my life… my future. My girlfriend…"
Brooke's phone rang. She looked at the number and sighed in relief. They had given Castiel a phone in case of emergencies, and it had been in his coat pocket when he'd been blasted away two days ago. It was his phone that was calling her now. She answered it. "Castiel."
"Emmanuel," he said, automatically.
"Emmanuel," she repeated, with an amused smile.
"Cass?" Dean asked, from the driver's seat. "Where is he?"
"Shut up!" Meg yelled at him, trying to hear Castiel through the phone pressed to Brooke's ear.
Castiel heard Meg's shout and said, immediately, "I'll stop speaking."
"No, not you, Emmanuel," Brooke said, quickly. She leaned in closer to Meg so that they could both hear Castiel.
"I'm at a place called Perth," Castiel said.
"Perth?" Meg repeated.
"Perth?" Dean said. "As in, Australia?"
Brooke glared at him to shut the fuck up and plugged her other ear with a finger.
"There are so many dogs," Castiel said, sounding overly-excited.
"What dogs?" Meg asked, knowing that Castiel, who was an angel with incredible hearing, could hear her even though she wasn't speaking directly into the phone. She looked up at Dean. "He says he's surrounded by unhappy dogs."
"They're chasing a rabbit around and around…" Castiel continued.
"Ohh," said Brooke, finally understanding. "You're at a dog park. The dogs are on a racing track, right?"
"He's at a dog park, in Perth," Meg told the rest of the occupants in the car.
Castiel only repeated: "I'm surrounded by large, unhappy dogs."
"Yeah, they're unhappy 'cos the rabbit's fake," said Meg.
Brooke laughed.
"Listen," Meg said, leaning closer to the phone, nearly pressed up against Brooke—on purpose, maybe?—"we're on Highway 94, North of St. Cloud, Minnesota, just passing mile marker 79—
"There are three people in the back seat already," Brooke broke in. "Be careful when you whoosh in, okay?"
What happened next was strange and disorienting, even for Brooke, who thought she was relatively used to being teleported around by Castiel at this point. He came into the car for a nano-second, long enough to touch her, then teleported them both out of the car for another nano-second, long enough to re-orient both of them. When Brooke finally felt the world stop shifting and turning, she was sitting on Castiel's lap in the back seat of Kevin's mom's car. He held her around the middle with both arms.
Feeling a little nauseous, she said, "That was weird."
"That was fun," Castiel replied, a smile in his voice.
Kevin gasped loudly, and stared at Castiel, as if afraid the angel would murder him.
"Kevin, this is Castiel," Meg said, with a smile, leaning forward to look past the angel, and Brooke on his lap.
Kevin continued to stare at Castiel. "You're one of the angels?" he murmured, he voice wavering.
Castiel gazed at the boy, then reached across Brooke's body and touched his nose with a pointer finger, saying, "Boop."
Brooke couldn't help but laugh.
"Brooke, are you hurt?" Castiel asked, squeezing her a little.
"No," she said.
He turned and looked at Meg. "Are you hurt?"
"Shut up," Meg replied, though there was no malice in her tone. Shut up was her way of telling Castiel that she liked him, and of telling Brooke that she liked her.
"Wait, I'm confused," Kevin said. "Brooke just called you Emmanuel, but everyone else calls you Castiel. What—
"Only Brooke can call me Emmanuel," Castiel said, so matter-of-factly that no one responded to him. After trying, and failing, to get Dean to refer to him as Emmanuel, he had relegated that name to Brooke only. It would become the closest thing to a pet name that she had for him, in the coming years, one that no one else called him, since Cass was a name that they all used.
Castiel leaned forward and kissed her cheek.
Brooke blushed, amazed that Castiel could do anything that would cause a blush in her at this point. But he had never kissed her cheek before, and it was such a sweet, innocent thing to do that she wasn't sure how to respond.
Meg, on the other hand, had her own response ready. "Ew," she said. "Get a room."
"Guys," Dean cut in. "What happened back there? Who were those guys? The angels."
"They're from the garrison," Castiel explained. "My old garrison. Looks like Hester's taken over. We were assigned to watch the Earth. Your wars were very boring, and the sex—you know, the repetition."
You think sex is boring? Brooke asked, mentally raising an eyebrow at the angel. I doubt that.
This was long ago, Castiel replied. Long before you were born. Long before I found you and fell in love with you and decided to try out this thing that humans call sex. Of course, I found out, then, that it wasn't boring.
Brooke smiled.
"Hey," Meg said, poking Castiel's arm. "Quit your Vulcan mind-melding. I can tell when you do that, you know. Your eyes go all glassy."
Castiel smiled brightly. "Anyway. I was, uh… I was their captain. Isn't that strange?" he asked, and was genuinely confused as he said, as if he truly could not believe he had ever been a soldier, a captain, a warrior.
"Cass, why are they pissed at us now?" Sam demanded.
But Castiel was no longer paying attention. His mind had fractured again, gone off to somewhere else. "You know, those racing dogs were absolutely miserable," he confided to Brooke and Meg. "They can only think in ovals."
"Cass!" Dean snapped. "Don't make me pull this car over! Why are angels after us?"
Castiel flinched at the anger in Dean's tone, and that happy-go-lucky veneer slipped for a moment. Brooke felt, for just a split-second, the absolute terror and mind-numbing depression that Castiel was grappling with, every second. She squeezed one of his arms, both of which were still wrapped around her.
"Are you angry? Why are you angry?" Castiel said, sounding like a small child being yelled at by his father.
"No I—I'm…" Dean sighed. "Please, can we just stay on target?"
Castiel pulled the splinters of his mind back together.
Brooke felt the Grace in both of their bodies settle again, and realized that it had been going off again—that high-pitched whine. She hadn't even realized it had been doing that until it went away. It was almost like a dog whistle, unheard by humans, but causing great anxiety in dogs. In this case, angels… or anyone with angel Grace in their blood.
"There is no reason for anger," Castiel explained, calmly. "They're only following protocol. If the Word of God is revealed, a keeper of the Word will awaken, like this hot potato, right here." Cass turned and began to boop Kevin's nose over and over again, in a manner he thought would be friendly, but was really just annoying.
Kevin swatted his hand away. "Please stop that."
Castiel blinked, and resettled his arm around Brooke, who was surprisingly comfortable on the perch of Castiel's legs.
"Anyway," the angel said, "garrison code dictates that you take the keeper to the desert to learn the Word away from men."
"What kind of sense does that make?" Dean asked. "He has to tell us so that we can use it."
Castiel shrugged. "That's God and His shiny red apples."
"I can't live in the desert!" Kevin yelled. "I—I'm applying to Princeton!"
"Okay, you know what? Screw the garrison," Dean said, from the driver's seat. "We need the tablet to end Dick Roman's 'soylent us' crap."
Castiel shifted in the back seat and leaned forward, placing his chin on Brooke shoulder to be closer to Dean. "if you want the Word, you'll have duck Hester and her soldiers."
"Yeah, you're in our corner, right, Cass?" Sam asked.
"No," said Castiel, with a smile and a shake of the head. "I don't fight anymore. I watch the bees."
Dean sighed heavily. "Brooke, can't you talk some sense into him? He's your husband!"
Brooke smiled a secretive smile and glanced at Castiel out of the corner of her eye, turning her head to look at him sitting behind her.
He gazed at her quietly, kindly, lovingly.
"No," she told Dean. "Castiel watches the bees… and I watch Castiel."
###
They arrived at Rufus' cabin later that night and set to work drawing sigils on all the doors and windows. Dean took Kevin downstairs to start deciphering the tablet, which, apparently, was the key to stopping the Leviathans.
It took a long time to draw all the sigils they could think of, even with three of them doing it, and Brooke was hardly awake by the time they were done. She went over and lay down on the couch, staring lazily over at Castiel, who sat on a chair near Sam.
"You seem troubled," Cass said to the Winchester, fiddling with a statue of a deer he had found on one of the tables. "Of course, that's a primary aspect of your personality, so I sometimes ignore it."
"Emmanuel!" Brooke reprimanded from the couch, barely remembering in time to use the name he wished her to use.
He looked up at her, surprised, but didn't have time to say anything because Sam spoke up.
"Okay," he said. "Um… Right now I'm just wondering about you."
Brooke began to drift off in earnest, partly because she was exhausted and partly because she was trying to give Sam some semblance of privacy in his conversation with Castiel. She placed an arm over her eyes to block out the light from the lamp.
Still, small pieces of conversation broke through her half-dreams, mostly from Castiel.
The burden I lifted from you…
… Lucifer?
… Aftertaste. Now I more see… well, everything.
The weight of all my mistakes… I was lost, until…
###
Brooke awoke when Castiel placed a hand on her shoulder. She blinked at him groggily, his face slowly coming into focus.
"I'm sorry," he said, gently. "Dean insisted that I wake you."
Brooke sat up, rubbing her eyes. "What is it?"
"Meg," Dean replied, from halfway across the room.
Brooke woke up fully and took in the scene. There stood Meg, in a devil's trap. Rage flowed through Brooke's veins, all of a sudden, out of nowhere. "Oh, goddamn it!" she yelled, and stood up.
Castiel backed quickly away from her, his eyes flicking around the room, about two seconds from teleporting away from the anger in her voice.
She placed a steadying hand on his shoulder. "I'm not mad at you, Emmanuel. I love you." But her voice was still fierce.
He swallowed, looked at her, then took a deep breath and nodded, seeming to pull back into himself.
Nostrils flaring, Brooke stomped over to the devil's trap and shoved her foot through the chalk.
"Hey, hey, hey!" Dean yelled, stepping toward her, big and towering.
She spun to face him. "You wanna go again, Winchester?" she said, loudly. "This time I'll knock your ass out! Meg is on our side!"
Dean glared daggers at her, then tried to get around her to Meg. Brooke maneuvered so that she was blocking Dean from accessing the demon.
"Just give me the damn knife!" Dean yelled, stretching out his hand.
Meg reached her arm around Brooke's body and handed Dean the demon-killing knife. At the same time, Brooke instinctively snatched at Meg's other arm, grabbing her wrist in a movement that suggested a deep need to protect. It was a movement that Castiel had done to Brooke countless times, when he thought she might be in danger.
Brooke hissed through her teeth as the mental connection between herself and Meg was formed, releasing all manner of Hellish things into Brooke's mind. It was easier to take, this time, for Castiel was close, and her simultaneous connection between Meg and Castiel prevented her from succumbing to the worst that Meg's mind had to offer.
For just a moment, there was a strange sort of understanding between all three of them, a chain linking them all together, a mutual bond, a sense of love, and respect, and protection.
Then Meg yanked her wrist out of Brooke's hand. "I don't your help," she snapped.
"Shut up, Meg," Brooke replied, which really meant, Yeah, I love you, too.
Dean glared at Brooke, then at Meg, then walked away, giving the two of them space.
Brooke glanced at Castiel, urging him to come forward, but he remained leaning against the wall, beside Sam and Dean, not wanting to start an emotional war if he could avoid it. His eyes rested on Meg for a moment, as well, softening, but Meg was not looking at him.
"Typical," the demon snapped, folding her arms over her chest. "I save our bacon, and you're sitting here waiting by a devil's trap." She stepped out of the circle, giving Brooke a sensual smile as thanks for releasing her, then turned back to the boys, though she stayed far away from them. "Seriously, I just killed two of Crowley's men. I coulda gone the other way on that."
"It's true, incidentally," Castiel said, finally coming closer to Brooke and Meg. "There's other demons' blood on that blade." He glanced at the knife in Dean's hand.
Everyone turned and stared at Meg. She sighed. "Look, I'm simpler than you think. I've figured one thing out about this world—just one, pretty much. You find a cause and you serve it. Give yourself over, and it orders your life. Lucifer and Yellow Eyes—their mission was it for me."
"So, what?" Dean broke in. "We should trust you because you wanted to free Satan from Hell?"
"I'm talking cause, douchebag," Meg replied, "as in, reason to get up in the morning! Obviously, these things shift over time. We learn, we grow. Now, for me, currently, the cause is bringing down the King, and I know we'll need help to do it."
"Crowley ain't the problem this year," Dean argued.
Meg stared at him. "When are you gonna get it? Crowley's always the problem. He's just waiting for the right moment to strike. I know what I'm supposed to do, and it isn't screw with Sam and Dean, or lose the only angel who'd go to bat for me."
Castiel smiled bashfully at her.
"What about me?" Brooke teased.
"You're part of the angel," Meg replied, smirking at her.
Everyone stood around for a moment, then Sam and Dean looked at each other, and sighed.
"All right," Sam said. "You're in."
Meg smiled prettily at them and approached the three men—one of whom was an angel. Brooke also came closer to the rest of the group.
"This is good," Castiel said, with a relieved sigh. "Harmony, communication. Now our only problem is Hester."
"What?" Meg said.
"Well, here, we're hidden from the garrison," Castiel explained. "but when you killed a demon, you put out a pretty clear beacon."
Meg stepped even closer to Castiel, standing almost behind him. "We need better angel-proofing, now—
The door exploded off of its hinges, pulled backwards by some invisible source. No. Not invisible. Angel. Hester was here.
"Fuck," Brooke said, backing up and bumping into Castiel, who reached down and grabbed her hand tightly.
"You took the prophet from us?" Hester demanded, and her voice came from behind them all.
They all turned, as one, to stare at the angels already in the room. Hester was looking directly at Castiel. Everyone else backed up (and Meg straight-up disappeared), but Brooke stood with him, still holding his hand.
"I'm sorry," he said, but his apology sounded like a question.
Hester stared at him in disgust. "You have fallen in every way imaginable."
"Please, Castiel," Inias spoke up, the male angel in the corner. "We have to follow the code. Help us do our work."
"He can't help you," Dean spoke up. "He can't help anybody."
"We don't need his help," Hester snapped. "Or his permission." She nodded at Inias, who disappeared for a moment, and reappeared with Kevin in tow. "The keeper goes to the desert tonight," Hester continued.
At some point, Brooke stopped listening to the yelling going on around her. None of this fighting mattered. All that mattered was keeping Castiel safe. But she had lost her angel blade long ago, somewhere in the grass at the reservoir, or maybe in her car. And she didn't even remember where her car was. Back at the lab where Castiel had gone insane?
She stiffened and paid attention again when Hester approached them, squeezing Castiel's hand so hard the blood stopped flowing into her fingers. She pulled Castiel behind her, but he gently extracted his hand from hers and stepped in front of Hester, who was going after Dean. "Please," he said. "They're the ones we were put here to protect."
Hester shook her head at him. "No, Castiel," she said—and backhanded him across the face. He stumbled backwards, tripping hand falling hard.
The Grace in Brooke's blood came boiling to the surface and she went blind as it overtook her. A loud, high-pitched whine filled her ears, and she grabbed blindly at Hester, wanting to choke the life from her. She managed to get her hands around the angel's throat, but was torn away by unseen hands, the two other angels in the room pulling her off their superior. She screamed wordlessly, on the edge of expending Castiel's Grace, on the edge of exploding.
Stop, Castiel said, his voice so small in her mind compared to her rage. But it was enough to keep her from the edge. Her vision came back just in time to see Hester's hand coming for her face, too. Her head snapped to the side and she tasted blood in her mouth.
Castiel rose from the ground and pulled at Hester's arm, only to be slapped down again. Hester began to punch Castiel in the face over and over again, screaming about madness, and free will. Suddenly she had an angel blade in her hand. One of the angels who had been holding Brooke rushed forward to stop her from murdering Castiel.
Brooke screamed in rage all over again and bowled into the woman, going for the blade. They struggled—Hester was strong—but Brooke managed to wrest the blade from her hand. She pulled her arm back to plunge it into the bitch's chest, but suddenly there was already a blade sticking through it. Hester exploded in light, screaming, and fell over, dead. There stood Meg, holding an angel blade in her hand.
Brooke sucked in breath after breath, staring at Meg. Castiel, on his knees, his face covered in blood, also stared at the demon.
"What?" Meg said. "Someone had to do it." She smiled at Brooke. "Sorry, sweetheart. Not fast enough."
Without thinking about what she was doing, Brooke dropped the angel blade to the floor and grabbed Meg's face in her hands, kissing her. It was a strange, terrifying, exhilarating feeling to kiss a demon. Meg inhaled sharply at the kiss, but did not pull away.
Brooke ended the kiss and dropped her hands away from Meg's face, wondering what the fuck had just come over her. She glanced up at the demon to see that Meg was smiling at her.
"Well," said Meg, "I didn't think it would be you. I thought you hated me."
"I never said I hated you," Brooke muttered.
"Shut up," said Meg.
A horrifying thought entered Brooke's mind. "Oh my God," she said, looking at Castiel. "You—I didn't mean—I…" Close to tears, she asked, "You're not angry at me, are you?"
Castiel stared up at her, and slowly shook his head, no.
Brooke had kissed Meg on a spur-of-the-moment whim, thankful that the demon had just stabbed the angel that had been about to murder Castiel. It had been a thank-you more than anything else, fueled, in part, by the strange, three-way connection that they had all shared for a few moments earlier that night, when Brooke had grabbed Meg's wrist as a gesture of protection.
Castiel knew all that went on in Brooke's mind, in her heart, and Brooke knew the same of him. Thus, he was not angry at a thankful kiss shared between two women—one human, one demon—who both shared feelings for him. Meg's feelings for Castiel did not run nearly as deeply as Brooke's, but they were there, all the same.
Castiel smiled up at both of them, still down on his knees, his nose leaking blood, and grabbed Brooke's hand, and Meg's hand, and held them both. Through him, the mental connection between Meg and Brooke reopened, and they glanced at each other, before looking back down at him. And in his eyes was only love and understanding and gratefulness.