Castiel is driving, while Sam recovers in the cramped space of the backseat. It doesn't do his head any good, nor his back, but that's how it is. How it always is.
Despite the pain, he refuses to take painkillers. He can't. He needs stay be focused and any medication would hinder him to keep his head in the game. They are making his skin itchy and turn his knees into jell'o.
Maybe it sounds weird, but the pain keeps him grounded. While painmeds are making him feel like he's losing his connection to the here and now.
So he tries to not take any meds while on a job. He tries to not take ANY MEDS in general.
So, maybe, when they capture the man, and when they are back at the bunker, he may allows himself some Aspirin – or even Vicodin if he can't help himself.
~ The Black Beast ~
An hour later they arrive in Ravenna at a motel called Green Leaves.
Castiel checks out the surroundings and when he's sure it's safe enough to book a room in the motel of Sam's vision, he goes for it.
Sam's already wrestling himself out of the car, when Castiel returns from the clerk's office with a key in hands.
Sam's back on his laptop as soon as Castiel brings the hunter's bags into their room.
Castiel tells him to lay down for another hours or so, but Sam refuses. He needs to get this done. To stop the killing and the man; and he promises his friend to get rest when they are back at the bunker.
~ The Black Beast ~
Castiel's hot on Sam's heels when they round the corner, leading behind the motel.
Sam's figured out where The Drowner's going to strike next. He's put the pieces of his visions together and Sam's pretty damn sure, he's going to pick the woman up at a bar that's named Classy Chickens.
Which is not exactly a very cool name for a bar – for Sam's liking – but he couldn't care less. The man – Dean – is going to come to their motel with her.
Castiel saw her rent a room two rooms over about an hour ago. Thirty minutes later she headed out. Probably to the bar.
So, Sam figures, she'll take him with her into said room and – however Dean figures that he's going to obduct her from there – it won't work.
Sam's not intending on letting it get that far. Not again. He and Cas would get the drop on him before he'd get the woman into that white room to torture and kill her.
There is no way in heaven or hell he'd let the man kill another innocent person.
Sam's painting warding-symbols on the back wall of the motel. – Just in case there are demons around, or yellow eyes is deciding to show up himself.
To be honest, Sam doesn't count on it, but he's pretty damn sure that the demon has something to do with it, so he doesn't want to get surprised.
Once they are done warding the entire place out of human's sight, Castiel takes his place in their car from across the road.
Sam's picking the lock to the girl's room and turns the lock behind him after entering. And then he waits.
~ The Black Beast ~
Short after two in the morning she returns on the passenger's seat of sleek black 67 Impala. The driver's hidden in the shadows. – But still.
Sam knows. He remembers driving that car – he remembers DEAN WINCHESTER driving that very car – during a couple of his vision.
The Impala is parked across two parking-lots and then they get out. The girl looks fairly drunk. The guy, who climbs out from the driver's side doesn't.
Sam gets to his feet, he can barely make out the furniture in the small room with the king-sized bed, as it's too dark with the lights out.
He withdraws into the corner behind the door and cocks his Taurus, his jaw set, as he fuses with the darkness and becomes a shadow.
It's the anticipation, the adrenaline pumping through his veins, that makes his ears roar and his dull headache worse.
Sam wants to lie down and just sleep, but he can't. He won't. Not until this is done.
He tells himself he's going to get plenty of sleep as soon as they're back at the bunker. He always does that. But it never happens.
So, Sam tries to breathe as calm as possible and waits. When he hears the key in the lock, he tenses, adjusting the weapon in his hold. He takes a deep steadying breath, as he knows that he's not alone.
Castiel's outside, probably on edge too, waiting for Sam give him a sign and pop up.
Usually, Sam would take care that no civilian would be involved, but in this case he doesn't care. Not at all.
The door opens and he can hear the woman chuckle. He can hear a low gravely voice purring nothingnesses into her ear and she chuckles again as she stumbles into the darkened room.
The lights get switched on and it takes Sam a few seconds to adjust to the bright light.
There's a sharp intake of a breath heard, and the girl's screaming the very next moment. Nothing Sam hadn't calculated with. So, he ignores her high-pitched yell and goes straight for the guy, who looks pretty surprised himself.
But it's him. Green eyes. Those green eyes – Sam'd know them anywhere. So he puts the gun right into the man's face, holding him at gunpoint.
"Don't move.", Sam hisses and waves for him to step further into the room and away from the door.
The man rises both of his hands, showing his palms, in a weirdly calm demanor. His look promising Sam hell, telling him oh-the-things-I'm-gonna-do-to-you and Sam couldn't care less.
"I'd rather not if I were you.", the man – Dean – says. His voice all husky and a mirror of his darkened soul.
The girl keeps on staring, freaking out, screaming like someone is twisting her damn nipples, and it is causing the stabbing pain to spike in between Sam's eyes, so he yells at her too – making it even worse.
The girl whimpers and draws back.
"Go into the bathroom and lock the door.", Sam tells her calmly and waves at her with the weapon. Not that he really would hurt her, but it's safer she thinks he's a robber – or whatever – instead of her knowing about anything of the supernatural world.
She nods frantically and turns on her hells. Then rushes to the bathroom and locks herself in.
Dean follows her with his look out of corners of his eyes. There goes his prey.- Sadly. But there's still that guy over there, he'd get to know her later on though. – Maybe.
"Not doin' so fine over there, huh?", the man's mocking Sam, taking a step towards him.
Sam keeps his stance, his weapon steady in his hands.
Dean's excited. He hasn't seen this coming – not by a long shot.
The man's not a cop. Nor an agent. Maybe he's some relative of the ones he's freed from their pathetic lives. Which is going to make this all the more interesting.
So, he stands there, assesses the tall man, all lean muscles and damn well easy on the eyes. And so damn hot with that gun in his hands. It's a misery, Dean thinks. But they'll get there. They always do. Only a nudge into the right direction and they all fall for him.
One way or another, everyone falls for him.
He feels himself torn between the girl and the man. He'd be a prettier prey, one that's not so easy to get to, Dean muses, a challenge. And he hasn't have one in a very long time.
Dean drinks the man's appearance in, checks him out from tip to toe with a single look and he knows. He knows, the man's not on full power. He sees it, he feels it. Something is off about him, and maybe that's what draws Dean closer, gives him the courage to approach him further despite the weapon aimed at him.
He's still showing him his hands, lulling him into a false sense of security. Or at least he's trying. With the way he holds his posture unthreatening, his face relaxed.
Because that's what Dean Winchester's damn good at. So, he at least tries. He's not afraid of getting shot. He's not afraid of being captured. Wounds heal, and prisons are made to be busted.
But he doesn't count on failing though.
"You come any closer, and I'll shoot you." Sam's pointing his gun at the man's leg now. He's not a fool. He knows Dean Winchester's dangerous, and if he lets him come too close, he's dead.
The man would look so damn nice, all sliced up and at the mercy of his hands. He'd LOVE to see him scream, to hear him beg.
Anticipation runs through the Winchester's entire body, let it tingle and itch in all the right places.
Because he knows now, whoever this is, he's not going to shoot him.
"Cas.", Sam says. His jaw is set and Sam' features are relaxed, though small creases around his eyes betray him as they show pain.
"Stand down." Castiel is behind the man after a rustling of wings is heard, and he has his finger's on Dean's head the very second.
The next moment, Dean Winchester is fast asleep, a bundle of joy sprawled out on the floor.
"What took you so long?" Sam's not really pissed – except he might is.
Castiel looks at his friend and takes a deep inhale. He knows his friend, so he lets it slip. Sam's grumpy when he's got a headache – he knows that.
Sam puts the safety back on his gun and tugs it away.
He usually's not the kind of guy who enjoys getting angelified from one place to another, but today he'd make an exception.
"Think you could zap us to the bunker?", Sam askes and rubs his forehead in an attempt to ease the pain behind it.
Castiel seems to overthink his friend's suggestion for a moment. Sam knows that Cas doesn't want to take the human with them. He has said that before, and the angel sure has not changed his mind yet.
But Sam is sure. He wants to try and get to the bottom of this. Why he's having dreams and visions about that man and what it has to do with demons – or THE DEMON.
~ The Black Beast ~
A/N: So, what do you think so far? Good? Bad? Something in between?