"We told the local authorities to cordon off the lake and keep people out. Bobby, Ellen and Jo are on their way, but it's gonna be at least a day before they get here. How's the angel?"
Sam let out a sigh, using the sound to share his frustration, and he did his best to answer his dad's question. "Well, it's complicated." That was an understatement. "I told them about his healing ability, and they weren't sure how he would react to anesthesia, but they decided to take him into surgery. They said they couldn't get the bleeding stopped, and then they said something about vascular damage."
"Sounds pretty serious," John commented. "Are you sure he's healing? Maybe he used all his grace up hiding his wings."
"I thought about that." Sam wet his lips. "His wounds looked pretty deep, but he didn't start coughing up blood, and he seemed to be able to breathe okay. I thought maybe that was due to his healing ability?" Sam sighed as soon as he made the suggestion, reaching up to rub his temple. "I don't know. I wish we knew more about angels."
"Yeah, well…" John sighed, too. "Maybe with Castiel's help, we can start building up our knowledge." He paused. "I know you're worried about him, and I'm not trying to change the subject, but have you found anything on the qalupalik?"
Sam looked down at his laptop, which was sitting open on his lap with some infuriatingly useless information on its screen. "I've found plenty, but there's nothing about how to kill them. Everything I read says the Inuit would just tell their children to stay away from the edge of the ice."
"Well," John started, and he sounded far more optimistic than Sam felt. "Bobby said he was going to call around, and the hunters he knows have got some pretty obscure knowledge. Maybe one of them will be able to tell us something."
"Yeah, maybe." Sam opened a new tab and mentally prepared himself for the work ahead. "I'll keep looking on my end, and maybe Castiel will have some information when he gets out of surgery. He seemed to know at least a little bit about them when we were researching."
"Alright." John paused, and it sounded like he might have been taking a drink of something. "Dean and I are working on a map, trying to see if we can figure out the location of their home base. We'll let you know if we find anything."
"Be careful," Sam warned. "We have no idea how they knew we were in town, or how the one who attacked us knew we were at the library. They could be watching you very closely."
"Believe me, we're keeping an eye out. We were even thinking some of these qalupaliks might be part of law enforcement, because it explains how they knew we were coming, so we're trying to discreetly investigate that angle."
Sam opened his mouth to respond but stopped short when he saw a man in scrubs walking his way. "I'll try to do some research on the local police department and park rangers for Lake Mead, but I gotta go right now. I'll talk to you later."
John didn't even question it. "Bye, Sammy."
Sam snapped his phone shut and, when he was sure the man was walking toward him, slowly closed his laptop. He set it on the chair next to him and stood up, flashing a brief and somewhat tight smile.
"Mr. Winchester?" the man asked, extending his hand for a shake. "My name is Dr. Page. I'm the surgeon who worked on Castiel."
"Call me Sam," Sam answered, shaking the offered hand. "How is he?"
"He's going to be just fine." Dr. Page slipped his hands into the pockets of his scrubs. "His healing ability is going to help him recover much faster than a patient normally would, and it didn't cause much trouble during the surgery itself."
Sam let out a small sigh of relief. "That's good." He laughed a bit nervously. "To be honest, I don't know how much of a healing ability he even has. Our situation is a bit… unconventional."
Dr. Page chuckled good-naturedly. "I guessed as much." He held up a finger. "I can tell you I definitely saw some scarring that leads me to think his healing ability was enough to keep him alive, but it's not healing him much beyond that."
Sam nodded but didn't interrupt, waiting to see what else the doctor would offer.
"We got the bleeding stopped and repaired the damage to his veins. We stitched him up with absorbable sutures because we expect his wounds will be completely healed in a matter of days." Dr. Page pointed over his shoulder. "He's not awake yet, but you can go into his room. However…"
Sam squinted slightly, a cautious tension spreading through his body. He had no idea where Dr. Page was about to take the conversation, but he had a sick, sinking feeling that it wasn't going to be good.
"I have a few questions about your 'unconventional' situation," Dr. Page finished, a knowing kind of smile tugging on the corner of his mouth.
Sam regarded the doctor carefully. "Castiel isn't a threat to anyone in this hospital. I understand that angels are normally a danger to humans that go anywhere near them, but Castiel is in a weakened state, and I'm here to keep an eye on him."
Dr. Page broadened his smile, holding up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "You've got the wrong idea, Sam. I don't have a problem with Castiel." He dropped his hands then, tapping his fingertips together and seeming to struggle with his words. "It's… well, we have a situation here at the hospital."
Sam blinked, confused and cautiously hopeful. "A situation?"
"It's not a bad situation," Dr. Page amended quickly. "It's a very, very good situation, which is why we haven't notified any authorities. But I thought maybe you, with your 'unconventional' situation could… perhaps find it helpful."
Sam was growing more and more lost the longer Dr. Page went on, but he didn't sense any danger, so he did his best to remain professional and find out more. "Okay. What can you tell me?"
"I have some questions first." Dr. Page slipped his hands into his pockets and nodded his head in the direction of a nearby hall. "Come on. We can head to the post-op room while we talk."
Sam was anxious to lay eyes on Castiel, so he quickly grabbed his laptop and shoved it into his bag. He felt the faintest twist in his gut when the metal of his laptop clinked against the angel blade he had begrudgingly crammed into the bottom of his bag before they left home. But he couldn't focus on that, so he shoved it aside and threw his bag over one shoulder.
"Lead the way, Dr. Page."
Dr. Page turned and started walking, turning his head and continuing to engage Sam in conversation. "My first question is, 'Where are Castiel's wings?'"
Sam didn't sense anything off about the question, so he decided to answer it honestly. "Castiel is concealing his wings. He's helping us on a hunt, and we felt the best way to keep the public from panicking was to keep them from realizing there was an angel around."
Dr. Page pursed his lips and nodded a few times, considering the answer. It took a moment, but he seemed to accept the statement as fact, and then he moved on. "What is your relationship with Castiel?"
"It's purely professional." Sam wasn't about to admit to their friendship until he knew more. "I come from a compound of six hunters, and I'm the one in charge of keeping an eye on him."
Dr. Page raised his brow slightly. "You seem pretty invested in his wellbeing for someone who's just supposed to keep an eye on him."
Sam shrugged it off, feigning an unbothered perspective. "I guess it's impossible for there not to be some attachment. He hasn't done anything wrong since we've found him, and he's a nice enough guy."
"Hmm." Dr. Page once again paused to consider Sam's answer. "You said Castiel is in a weakened state. How did he come to be that way?"
"We're not entirely sure." Sam pushed his hands into his jean pockets. "We know a nest of vampires had him recently, and we found some evidence when we hunted them down." Sam decided Dr. Page didn't need to know about the rape. "According to Castiel, he was held by some demons before the vampires, but we don't have much experience with demons. We haven't found anything on them so far."
Dr. Page hummed again, and then walked up to an elevator, pressing the up arrow to summon the box. "And what do you think about those vampires and demons? Are you grateful to them for weakening Castiel so you could restrain him?"
Sam stopped and looked at Dr. Page for a long moment, his eyes narrowing slightly. He didn't know what the doctor was getting at, and without knowing that, he couldn't know what the best course of action was. His gut told him that everyone viewed angels as monsters, and that meant it wasn't a good idea to publicly ally himself to Castiel. But there was something about the way Dr. Page worded his questions that seemed like maybe he was of a different mindset.
What do I do?
Sam was pulled from his thoughts by the elevator doors sliding open, and he walked into the lift with Dr. Page as well as a nurse who had joined them. Sam was secretly grateful for the nurse's presence, as it gave him some time to consider how he wanted to answer Dr. Page's questions. So, Sam thought until the elevator came to a stop, and by the time he was walking down a new hall with Dr. Page, he had his answer.
"Let's just say… I didn't kill the vampires because they were vampires."
Now, that could have meant any number of things, and because Dr. Page was an intelligent man, he probably knew that. Sam only hoped it would be enough.
"I see." Dr. Page turned into one of the many rooms on the hall, leading Sam up to a bed with a soundly sleeping Castiel in it. "So, at least to some extent, you want to protect him."
Sam was silent at first, walking around the bed and coming to a stop across from Dr. Page. He watched Castiel's chest rise and fall, and then he met Dr. Page's eyes with a single nod. "Yes. I do."
Dr. Page stared at Sam for a few moments, and then he nodded and offered a simple, "I believe you." He looked at Castiel and then looked back at Sam. "So, our situation is this." Dr. Page took a breath. "We have been visited twice in the last… I would say three years, by an angel."
Sam didn't bother masking his surprise, but he didn't say anything, waiting patiently for Dr. Page to continue.
"He doesn't announce his arrival, and he keeps his wings hidden. Which, to be honest, I didn't even know was possible until we were visited by him." Dr. Page glanced down at Castiel again, and then he looked back at Sam. "His intentions have always been very straightforward. He heals people."
Sam blinked in surprise, confusion furrowing his brow a moment later. "He heals people?"
Dr. Page nodded solemnly. "He can't heal everything, but what he can heal, he does. Or at least, that's what he tells us. For example, I heard from one of the emergency room nurses that he wanted to heal a broken leg, but he had to wait until it was set, otherwise it would heal in the wrong position. So, apparently, there are limits to his healing power."
Sam was overwhelmed by the sudden onslaught of information—especially the good information—about angels, and he found himself wishing he had a notebook on hand. But he didn't, so he did his best to keep the information organized in his head to help him remember it.
"So," Sam started, confusion still twisting his features, "this angel just… walks around the hospital and… heals people?"
Dr. Page nodded, and from the look on his face, he could hardly believe his own words. "Exactly. He just… walks from room to room, asks what's wrong, and if he can heal it, he does."
Sam nodded a few times. "Right, you said he can't heal everything. Has he offered any explanation of how his healing powers work? Does he tell you why he can't heal everything?"
Dr. Page shook his head, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "He has referred to himself as an 'archangel,' and he once told one of the nurses that a regular angel wouldn't be able to heal as much as he can. But other than that, he hasn't told us anything about his abilities." Dr. Page paused then, holding up a finger. "Not that I know of, anyway. He might have told someone else."
Sam was brimming with questions, and he wished Castiel was awake to vet some of the information he was getting, but he worked with what he had. "So, he called himself an 'archangel,' and he's visited the hospital to heal people twice now. Do you know if he does anything like this anywhere else?"
"Well, that's the problem." Dr. Page sighed softly. "We appreciate all hunters do to keep us safe, but whatever his reasons, this angel is deciding to help us. We don't want to call around to other hospitals for information and risk someone calling the hotline on him."
Sam nodded understandingly, his eyes flickering briefly to Castiel. "Do you know why he's choosing to do this? It's… not really in an angel's nature to help humanity."
Dr. Page offered a helpless shrug. "When I asked, he laughed and told me, 'this is my middle finger to Michael.' I have no idea what it means, and from what I can tell, he hasn't given anyone else a better answer."
Sam was inclined to think Michael was another angel, but until he knew more, he supposed it was possible Michael was just about anything.
Sam pursed his lips. "He told you a bit about what he was and what he could do. Did he mention anything about himself? Or anything about what he plans to do in the future?"
Dr. Page cocked his head and lifted his hand, tilting it from side to side in a 'so-so' motion. "He told us his name was Gabriel, and he told us he would be back. Other than that, nothing."
Gabriel? Sam immediately thought of the dictionary weighing down his messenger bag. Could it be the same angel? And if it is, what is he trying to accomplish? Sam looked at Castiel, once again wishing he was awake. And who is Michael? And what's an archangel?
"Sam?"
Sam startled slightly, jerking himself out of his thoughts. "Sorry. Just… thinking." That was a lame answer. "Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me about this. Knowing more about this angel… or archangel… might help me understand more about Castiel." He flashed a quick but encouraging smile. "I'll be careful about who I share this information with."
Dr. Page offered a smile of his own. "I would appreciate that." He gestured to Castiel then, relaying instructions that were probably rehearsed. "Castiel should be waking up in about forty minutes to an hour. He should not drink any alcohol, operate heavy machinery, or make any important decisions for the next twenty-four hours." Then, slightly less rehearsed, Dr. Page continued. "With his healing ability, I expect we'll be able to release him shortly after he wakes up."
Sam reached out his hand and smiled, incredibly grateful for all the doctor had done. "Thank you so much. Castiel and I really appreciate this."
Dr. Page shook Sam's hand and smiled. "You're welcome, Sam. I wish you the best of luck."
With that, Dr. Page strode out of the room, no doubt having a long list of responsibilities to get back to. And Sam blew his bangs out of his eyes and stared at the unconscious Castiel lying in bed.
What just happened? Sam slowly slid the strap of his bag from his shoulder, turning around and dropping his bag on the hospital chair. I think this is a good thing. I think. He took a breath and turned back around, looking at Castiel again. If Dr. Page is right, and Gabriel really is a kind of angel, this could be a brand new lead to follow. He might know something about the Enochian spells on Castiel and how to break them. Then Sam had a thought. He might know why Castiel had these spells put on him in the first place.
Sam reached up to rub his forehead, trying to juggle a thousand thoughts at once. Everything in me wants to start researching local hospitals for so-called miracles, but I can't. I have to focus on the qalupaliks. He rubbed his forehead a little harder, and then pressed his palms against his eyes. Castiel isn't going anywhere, and I won't let anything happen to him. He can wait.
Putting Castiel on the back burner left a sick feeling in his stomach, but it was what needed to be done. So, Sam pulled his laptop from his bag and opened it up, waiting for the screen to come to life. He bounced his leg a few times out of habit, and then he fished his phone from his pocket, checking the clock on the screen. It was 9:07.
Okay, Sam Winchester. You've got exactly ten minutes to write down everything you can remember about what Dr. Page told you. Then you get back to work.
With that, a blank document was opened, and for the next ten minutes, Sam typed faster than he had ever typed in his life.
"Cas? You okay?"
Sam and John both watched in silence, sharing Dean's sentiment, as Castiel grappled with the door to the motel room. Castiel ignored Dean's question and pushed the door in, staggering over to the bed and falling facedown in the sheets. Sam had just barely opened his mouth to prod Castiel for an answer when they all heard the sound of fabric tearing and two massive, black-feathered wings burst into existence.
"Looks like somebody's tired," Dean quipped.
"No kidding." Sam walked into the motel room and went around the bed so he was at Castiel's head. "Hey." He crouched down and reached out, rubbing Castiel's back between his wings. "You did great, Castiel. Keeping your wings hidden all that time, even under anesthesia, must have been really hard."
Castiel's lips pulled into a weak smile, blue eyes half-lidded with sleep, and for a moment, Sam thought the conversation was over. But then Castiel's eyes widened, and he looked at Sam with worry on his face. "Qalupalik?"
Sam smiled, trying to assure Castiel. "We're all gonna get some sleep, Castiel. We'll sleep in shifts and stay alert, and we'll start working again tomorrow." He rubbed Castiel's back a few more times. "Just rest, okay? You really need it."
Castiel nodded a few times, his eyes quickly returning to their bleary, half-closed state. "Sam… visnangi."
Sam had no idea what Castiel was thanking him for, but he didn't want to ask for clarification when Castiel so obviously needed to sleep. "You're welcome, buddy. Just get some rest."
Sam straightened up, turning toward the desk along the far wall where his dad was standing with a marked-up map. "Dad—" Sam cut himself off, looking back toward the motel door as Dean walked in with the blanket they kept in the trunk of the Impala.
Dean didn't say anything, grabbing the hem of the blanket and letting the fabric drop from his arms. He flicked it a few times and then approached the bed, spreading the blanket over Castiel's legs.
Sam smirked to himself, wondering if Dean knew how obvious his habitual brothering was, but he didn't make a comment. He let Dean fuss over Castiel and put his attention back on John, walking over to join his dad by the desk.
"So, how's the map coming?"
John sighed, scanning the document in question. "Seven of the nine missings were last seen at Boulder Beach, so we think their home base has to be near there, but we haven't figured out what the qalupaliks are doing with the people they're taking or where they're hiding the bodies."
Sam pursed his lips slightly and looked at the map. "Well, there's a lot of different stories about what the qalupalik does with its victims. Some legends say they eat them, so that might be why we can't find any bodies." Sam held up a finger. "However, some of the legends I found said that qalupaliks take children and raise them as their own. Other legends said they feed on the youth of their victims to gain immortality. So maybe killing isn't on the agenda for these monsters."
John sucked air through his teeth, shaking his head and giving the map a look like there was something wrong with it. "That might explain why they aren't leaving bodies, but with so many people out looking for the missing, how haven't they been caught? Dead bodies are easy to miss, especially if the qalupalik are eating them. People who are still alive are a lot harder to hide. The qalupaliks would have to bring their victims food and water, keep them restrained, keep them from making noise—"
"Not to mention," Dean piped up, going up to the desk and standing on John's other side, "if the first victims are still alive, why do they keep taking new ones?"
Sam folded his arms over his chest, looking at Dean. "Well, we already think there's more than one qalupalik. Maybe they each need their own source of energy." He frowned then, looking back at the map. "That still doesn't explain how they haven't been caught. Unless…" He tilted his head to the side, his face scrunched up in contemplation. "They could be taking the victims away from their hunting ground. Las Vegas isn't too far away; maybe they're taking them there."
Dean leaned against the desk, nodding his head in a sideways manner as he thought about Sam's suggestion. "They'd have to be moving the victims at night to avoid detection."
John put his hands on his hips. "Either that, or they're taking the victims so quickly that they're out of the area before the searches even start."
Sam reached up to rub his face and then combed his fingers through his hair. "No matter how they're doing it, the fact is, they're not leaving any kind of trail we can follow."
John looked at Sam then, turning his back toward Dean. "What did you find out about the local law enforcement?"
Dean took a few steps to get around John, looking at Sam with curious eyes that said, 'Yeah, Sammy, what did you find?'
Sam actually perked up at the question. "I might actually have some good information on that. Let me get my laptop."
Sam walked away from the desk, casting a brief glance at Castiel when he passed, and he headed out to the Impala. He opened the back door and grabbed his bag from the floor of the car, straightening up and giving the door a shove. He took two steps toward the motel room and stopped.
What was that?
Sam turned on the spot, scanning the darkened parking lot. His eyes wandered over the doors to the other motel rooms, and then they went back out to the road.
Nothing.
Sam shook himself and walked back into the motel room, shutting the door behind himself. He fastened the chain on the door, just to be safe, and then went back to the desk, pulling out the chair and sitting down. He pulled his laptop from his bag and put it on the desk, opening it and hitting the power button to wake it up.
Dean rubbed his hands together. "Oh, it's getting serious now. Sammy's got his laptop."
"Shut up, Dean." But Sam smiled. "Okay, here's what I found." He clicked on one of his browser tabs, pulling up a news story. "This is only one of the stories, but I found several news articles about a Ranger Karetak. He seems to be very active in the park, and he's regarded as a bit of a hero. I looked it up, and the name is definitely an Inuit name, which is an interesting coincidence. On top of that, he looks a lot like an older version of the qalupalik that attacked Castiel and me at the library. I was thinking maybe father and son?"
John nodded a few times, leaning over Sam's shoulder. "You might be on to something." He paused, squinting at the screen, and then he looked at Dean. "Did we hear about a Ranger Karetak?"
Dean pressed his lips together and looked up at the ceiling. "Um…" He thought for a few more moments and then looked at John. "Maybe? It does sound a little familiar."
Sam shrugged and turned in his seat so he could see his family. "I couldn't really find anything suspicious about him, and I hate to go after a guy just because of a last name and an uncanny appearance."
John motioned for Sam to get out of the chair. "I'll take a look at those articles while I'm keeping watch. You two boys get some sleep."
Sam almost objected, ready to insist they stay awake and try to come up with a plan, but a yawn stretched his mouth open before he could get a single syllable out.
John smirked, a knowing twinkle in his eye. "Bedtime, Sammy. We can come up with a plan tomorrow morning before Bobby, Ellen, and Jo get here."
Sam nodded a few times, getting up from the chair and walking over to the second bed. He sat down on the edge, leaning down and beginning to untie his shoes.
"I can take the second shift, Dad." Dean walked over to the bed Sam was on and sat down on the other side, reaching for his own shoes.
Sam pulled one shoe off and reached for the next one. "I can take the second shift, Dean. I don't mind."
"Yeah, I don't think so." Dean kicked his second shoe off and stood up again, pulling the comforter down. "I slept for most of the drive out here, unlike someone, who sat in the backseat studying Enochian for hours."
Sam could hardly argue with that assessment, and he really was tired, so he held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Okay, okay. I'll get some sleep." He took his other shoe off and set it with its twin, standing up and pulling the comforter down the way Dean had. "But I expect to have at least some watchdog responsibility."
"We'll all do our part," said John as he gave the boys a look. "Now sleep."
Sam got into bed and pulled the comforter up, rolling onto his left side and staring at Castiel's sleeping form. He felt the bed sink behind him, and even though he was almost twenty years old, it still brought him comfort to know his big brother was sleeping with him.
We'll figure everything out. We always do.
Sam's eyes slowly started to close, and even with the lights on, he knew it wouldn't be long before he was asleep. He heard a couple clicks, and he knew John was reading the articles on Ranger Karetak. He heard a grunt and the shifting of sheets as Dean made himself comfortable. He heard the soft, scratching sound of Castiel's wings brushing against the headboard.
We always do.
They were at the waterfront when Sam heard it. He was sitting on the ground with Jo and Castiel, watching the water and silently bemoaning the fact that John had sent them on a job with no chance of action, and then it started.
"Do you hear that?" Jo asked, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
Sam grabbed his bag and jumped to his feet in unison with Castiel. "Get up." He reached down and took Jo by the arm, pulling her up. "Run to the bathroom. Hurry!"
Jo didn't ask questions. She just turned on her heel and started running for the only building in sight, Sam and a wingless Castiel following right on her tail.
Sam turned his eyes toward Lake Mead as he ran, listening to the steady, almost mechanical hum rising from the water. It changed in tone and pitch, getting a little higher and then a little lower, a little louder and then a little softer, but it didn't stop.
Jo tore open the door to the women's bathroom and hurried inside, turning around to face Sam once she was in. "What is that?" she asked, keeping her voice low.
"I think it's a qalupalik," Sam panted, turning around and cracking the door open. "There were multiple sources that said it used a humming noise to draw curious children toward the edge of the ice. I disregarded it because no one reported a humming sound at the lake, and there wasn't one when we were attacked at the library." He peered through the crack in the door, trying to see if anything was coming out of the lake. "I don't know why it would be humming now; there's nobody here to lure into the water."
Castiel tapped Sam on the shoulder, and when Sam turned to look at him, Castiel lifted his hands and started making the universal gesture for talking.
Sam looked out the door again and then looked back at Castiel. "Wait, so the humming is how they communicate?"
Castiel nodded a few times.
Sam turned his head toward the door again. "Okay, so there's more than one of them out there right now." He squinted, but he still couldn't see anything in or around the lake that resembled a person. "They must be communicating because they didn't think there would be anyone around to hear them."
Jo approached the door, sticking her head beneath Sam's and getting a look at the outside. "So, are they just talking, or does this mean they're going to surface?"
"I don't know." Sam pulled away from the door and fished his phone from his pocket. "Jo, you keep an eye on the water. I'm calling Dad."
"Got it."
Sam flipped his phone open and pulled up his recent calls, picking John's number from the list and pressing the call button. He put it to his ear and listened to it ring, watching as Castiel joined Jo by the door to help her look for any sign of the qalupaliks.
"What is it, Sam?" John asked as he answered.
"Dad." Sam looked at the door, though he couldn't see through the crack from where he was standing. "We think there's some qalupaliks here. There's this humming noise, and Castiel told us that's how the qalupaliks communicate."
"Do you have any idea where he's getting his information from?"
Sam rolled his eyes. It figured John wouldn't take Castiel's word for it. "I also saw humming in the lore. We're pretty sure we're on to something here."
"Alright. Bobby and Ellen are closer, so I'll tell them to head to the waterfront. Dean and I will be there as soon as we can." Then, somehow making his voice more serious than it already was, John continued. "Do not approach the qalupaliks if you see them."
"Yes, sir," Sam replied obediently. For once, he wasn't going to fight with John. Not when he could close his eyes and see those black claws buried in Castiel's neck. "We're in the bathroom closest to where you dropped us off. We'll stay hidden until someone gets here, okay?"
"Good. See you soon." With that, John hung up.
Sam snapped his phone shut and shoved it in his pocket, and even though he was curious to see if any qalupaliks would come out of the water, he knew the most important thing was to figure out how to fight them. So, he reached into his bag and pulled out the Enochian dictionary, drawing Castiel away from the door.
"Cas." Sam sat down, cross-legged, on the floor of the bathroom, trying not to think about how gross it was. "What else can you tell me about the qalupaliks? Do you know any of their weaknesses?"
Castiel sat down across from Sam, mimicking his cross-legged position, and scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Junda."
"Is that a J?" Sam asked, already turning to that section of the dictionary.
Castiel nodded his head, and then his expression grew thoughtful again.
Junda… Junda… That seems like it has pretty straightforward spelling… Sam skimmed the words as he turned the pages, going letter by letter until he found the word Castiel had said. "Fire?" he asked, lifting his head.
Castiel nodded again.
"So," Jo said from the door, not taking her eyes off the lake. "We can use Molotov cocktails."
"Does fire kill them?" Sam asked, thinking of wendigos.
But Castiel held his hand up and tilted it from side to side, making a 'so-so' sort of gesture.
"So, it can kill them, but it also might just wound them." Sam thought about that for a moment, and then he shook his head. "We don't have any sources of fire with us, anyway."
Jo let out a little laugh, and Sam could hear the grin in her voice when she spoke. "I would bet my entire savings account that your dad told you to stay away from the qalupaliks. Why are you talking about what we have on hand right now?"
Sam sent her a half-hearted glare. "I'm just trying to be prepared for whatever happens."
"Uh-huh," Jo said, making it clear with her tone that she didn't believe him.
Sam rolled his eyes and ignored her, putting his attention back on Castiel. "What else can you tell me about how to fight these things?"
Castiel ran his finger across his throat, performing the universal gesture for decapitation.
"So, does decapitation kill them?" Sam asked.
Castiel nodded, but then he held a finger up. "Rash."
For a fraction of a second, Sam almost thought Castiel was saying the English word 'rash,' but the way Castiel pronounced it, it sounded more like 'rosh.' So, Sam looked down at the dictionary again, flipping through the pages until he found the Rs. He started skimming the words, quickly finding the one he was looking for.
"Hard?" Sam looked at Castiel, waiting for confirmation before trying to figure out what the angel was telling him. "You mean, like, it's hard to decapitate them?"
Castiel nodded, reaching up and wrapping his hands around his bandaged neck. He held them there for a second, and then he lowered them and, for lack of a better word, karate chopped his one hand with the other.
Sam dumbly copied the move with his own hands, trying to decipher the meaning. "Um…" He hit his own hand again. "You're saying it's something physically hard? Like you can hit them with a machete and it won't work?"
Castiel nodded enthusiastically, blue eyes wide and shining with excitement.
Sam frowned to himself, thinking back to the library attack and trying to remember if the qalupalik had any kind of markings on his neck. He was wearing a regular t-shirt, so I definitely saw his neck, but… I'm pretty sure it was a normal neck. Sam hadn't noticed the qalupalik covering or defending his neck in any way, either. But his fingers changed into claws, and all the lore talked about very inhuman looking creatures. So, maybe they can change, and if they do, maybe they can protect their neck in one form but not the other. Sam crinkled his brow. If that's the case, we have to find a way to sneak up on them and catch them off guard.
"Hey," Jo whispered, still looking out the crack in the door. "There's something coming out of the lake."
Sam set the dictionary aside and jumped to his feet, rushing over and peering through the opening. He saw what Jo was talking about immediately, and while he had never seen a qalupalik not in human form, he was certain that was what he was looking at.
At first, all Sam could see was the head, the qalupalik slowly rising from the water as it walked toward the shore about thirty feet away. It had long, black hair that clung to its shoulders, and when its chest came out of the water, Sam determined it was male. So, not an it, but a he.
The qalupalik continued to walk toward dry land, exposing more of his body. He was completely naked, and his skin was a bluish-green color that shimmered in the sunlight. He walked with his hands at his sides, the fingers webbed and tipped by razor-sharp claws.
I wonder if that's the one who attacked us. But that didn't really matter. We can't just hide in here and do nothing.
"I have a couple machetes in my backpack." It was as if Jo read his mind.
Sam glanced at Castiel when he heard the angel shuffle closer to them, and then he looked out the door again. "I don't know if we'll be able to kill him, but we should be able to subdue him."
"It attacked you with a gun, right?" Jo asked, stepping away from the door and shedding her backpack. "And it attacked Castiel with claws. So, it probably doesn't have any kind of superstrength."
"John?" Castiel asked, a confused expression on his face.
Sam frowned slightly, not taking his eyes off the qalupalik. "What?"
Castiel moved in Sam's peripherals, and Sam looked over to see him holding an imaginary phone to his ear. "John," he repeated.
Sam looked back at the qalupalik. "Yeah, Dad always tells me to stay away from the danger. But he's not here, and I'm nineteen years old. I don't have to listen to him."
Castiel didn't say anything, but when Sam glanced over at him, he saw a faint expression of disapproval. Which, considering Castiel's nearly permanent disposition to please, was a welcome surprise.
"It'll be fine," Sam assured, looking back out the crack in the door.
Jo tossed her backpack on the floor and held out one of the machetes. "Here."
Sam took the blade without looking away from the qalupalik. "He hasn't changed into a human yet." He slowly started to open the door. "We're not gonna be able to sneak up on him. It's flat, wide-open space out there."
"Well, there's three of us." Jo poked her head out and nodded toward the water. "One of us should go left and try to get between him and the water."
"Yeah," Sam agreed, opening the door all the way and creeping out. "I'll go left, you go right, and Castiel can go down the middle."
"Got it." Jo followed Sam out of the bathroom, moving past him to go to the right.
Sam started walking towards the lake, watching the qalupalik for the moment it realized they were there. He's going to see us any second.
As if hearing Sam's thought, the qalupalik suddenly came to a stop and looked at them. They all took off running, spurring the qalupalik to do the same, and the chase was on.
Sam pumped his arms as he ran, inwardly cursing at the way the sand and gravel gave beneath his feet. He gripped his machete tightly, running along the shoreline, and he watched as the qalupalik started to curve back toward the lake.
If he makes it to the water, he'll be gone. Sam pushed himself harder, feeling a steady burn growing in his chest, and he ran as fast as he could. We can't lose this opportunity.
Sam spied Jo out of the corner of his eye, and he could see she was pulling ahead of both him and Castiel, closing the distance between her and the qalupalik. Sam kept running, ignoring the ache in his legs, and the more the qalupalik turned toward the water, the closer Sam got.
Come on, come on… just a little more…
Sam reached out a hand, his fingers brushing against the slippery skin of the qalupalik's arm. He sucked down a lungful of air and ran harder, reaching out again and just barely managing to claw at the qalupalik's shoulder.
"Get him, Sam!"
Sam stretched his hand out again, boots splashing in the water, and with one, final push, he jumped and tackled the qalupalik to the ground. They tumbled over each other, submerging Sam in water, and he clung to the squirming muscles trying to get out of his arms. He turned his body and got his head above water, and he shouted an order he could only hope Jo and Castiel could pull off.
"Get him out of the water!"
The qalupalik twisted around, clawing at Sam's arms, and it was like trying to hold onto a fish. Sam kept his arms wound around the qalupalik's waist, completely reliant on his partners to help him, and the monster's constant contorting forced Sam's head back under. Sam pulled himself up again, gasping for air, and he felt a set of hands grabbing for the qalupalik.
"Come on, Castiel!"
Sam struggled to get his legs beneath him, and he caught a glimpse of Jo and Castiel trying to get a good grip on the qalupalik's body. He tried to help them, but it was hard to do much of anything while sitting down and holding a creature that refused to stop moving.
Castiel suddenly took a step back and pulled his shirt up over his head. He took the fabric and reached out, looping it around the qalupalik's neck and starting to walk backwards, pulling the qalupalik onto the beach.
"Good idea, Cas!" Jo ran into the water, getting on the other side of Sam. "Let me get his ankles!"
Sam let them do what they thought was best, completely focused on keeping his arms around the monster. He was sore from the vicious clawing, but he didn't let up, and after a couple more minutes, it paid off.
Jo got a good grip on the qalupalik's ankles, and with her and Castiel keeping the monster somewhat restrained, Sam was able to get to his feet. They carried the still struggling qalupalik onto the beach, getting a good twenty feet away from the water before they pinned their prey to the ground.
"Here." Jo pulled a pair of handcuffs from her back pocket. "Get his hands behind his back."
Sam sat down on the center of the qalupalik's back, wrestling with the slick arms and, after several minutes, managing to put the wrists together. "Make them tight."
"No kidding." Jo snapped the cuffs onto the qalupalik's wrists and then sat down on the qalupalik's legs, keeping them from kicking. "Whew."
Sam nodded a few times, panting heavily, and he looked at his bloody, scratched up arms. "Well." He looked at Jo, a lopsided grin parting his lips. "We totally nailed that."
Jo nodded a few times, also out of breath, and she held up a hand for Sam to high-five. "We came, we saw, we kicked butt."
Sam hit her hand and then turned to Castiel and held up his own. "Good job, Castiel. It was smart thinking, using the shirt to get a good grip on him."
Castiel put both ends of the shirt in one hand, and then he smacked Sam's hand with a smile.
Sam smiled back, and then he leaned a little closer to the qalupalik's head, trying to look at the neck underneath Castiel's shirt. It was black and scaley, and he had to wonder if that was the 'hard' Castiel had been talking about earlier.
"I tried to slash it with a machete," Jo said, answering the question Sam hadn't asked. "It didn't even leave a scratch."
"Well," Sam said, resituating himself on top of the qalupalik's back, "we still have the option of fire."
Jo let out a sigh, looking defeated and not at all encouraged by what Sam had said.
"What?" Sam asked, concern creasing his brow.
Jo only shook her head, her expression almost pained. "Our parents are going to kill us when they get here."
Sam muttered a curse under his breath. "I completely forgot." He reached up and ran a hand through his tangled, soaking wet hair. "I don't suppose either of you have any bright ideas on how to lessen their anger?"
Castiel looked at Sam with a flabbergasted expression that said he could not believe what Sam was saying.
"Hey," Jo commented, punching Sam on the shoulder. "What happened to, 'He's not here, I'm nineteen, I don't need to listen to him.'"
Castiel extended his hand toward Jo and looked at Sam as if to say, 'That's exactly what I'm saying!'
Sam held his hands up in a gesture of surrender. "Alright, alright. I… may have spoken in haste." He rubbed the back of his neck a bit sheepishly. "It's not like I like being at odds with him, it just tends to happen a lot."
Castiel rolled his eyes, and Jo laughed, but that laughter was cut short when they all saw Bobby's Chevrolet driving toward the bathroom.
"Well…" Sam took a breath. "It's now or never."
Jo groaned, probably because she had seen her mom in the passenger seat.
Castiel merely shook his head at them, tisking in disapproval.
Sam heaved a sigh. Here we go.
It took a while for Ellen, Bobby, and John to be done yelling. John and Bobby mostly listed ways the hunt could have gone wrong, while Ellen threatened to spank them all, saying they had the obedience capabilities of three toddlers. Castiel had gestured wildly to Sam and Jo, pointing at them and trying to relay the understanding that disobedience had not been his idea, which led to more lecturing from John. Meanwhile, Dean had stood off to the side, arms folded over his chest, looking at the young group with a smug face that said they deserved everything they got.
Once the yelling was finally over, the three older hunters started working out what to do with the qalupalik the three younger hunters had captured. They quickly decided to take the qalupalik to the Boulder Beach Ranger Station, where they could use one of the back rooms for interrogation. Using what Castiel had told them about fire, they got a blowtorch from the Impala and started working on pulling answers from their captive.
It was about ten minutes into the interrogation that Sam noticed something wrong with Castiel. He was standing off to the side, as far away from the others as he could be, with both arms wrapped around himself. He was staring at the ground and swallowing hard, looking very much like he wanted to throw up, and he flinched every time he heard the qalupalik cry out in pain.
Sam knew what the problem was immediately, and he kicked himself for not thinking of it sooner. He had been so distracted by Dean cleaning and bandaging his arms that it completely slipped his mind.
"Hey, Castiel." Sam threw his bag over his shoulder—he didn't like to leave the Enochian dictionary unattended—and started walking toward the exit. "Let's go get some fresh air. They can handle things in here."
Castiel looked up from the floor and nodded quickly, breathing through his nose with his jaw tightly clenched. He looked like he was barely keeping it together.
Sam kept his behavior and expression relaxed, not wanting to draw anyone's attention to Castiel's struggle. He walked past Castiel, and the angel fell in step, staying close as they walked out through the front doors.
"I'm sorry." Sam spoke softly once they were out, using one hand to gently usher Castiel toward the Impala. "I wasn't thinking about how an interrogation would affect you. I was so wrapped up in the hunt and my arms, I just…" He trailed off and then sighed, shaking his head. "That's no excuse. I'm sorry."
Castiel shrugged his shoulders, eyes still downcast, and Sam got the idea that even if Castiel could talk, he wouldn't.
"If you don't want to talk about it, you don't have to, but…" Sam got to the Impala and opened the back door, leaning in and grabbing a blanket from the floor, "…do you know what's bothering you?" He flicked the blanket and spread it over the hood of the Impala before he crawled on, sitting down and patting the space next to him. "I mean, is it just interrogation in general? Or is it the fire, because of what the demons did to your wings?"
Castiel climbed onto the hood and settled down next to Sam, sitting with his shoulders hunched and his hands in his lap. He took a breath and slowly let it out, shaking his head back and forth.
"Does that mean no?" Sam asked, watching Castiel's face for an answer. "Or does that mean you aren't sure?"
Castiel thought about it for a moment, and then he pointed to himself, braving a look at Sam.
"You?" Sam looked at Castiel for a few seconds, his face scrunched up in confusion. "What about you?"
Castiel wet his lips, and there was a sheen of fear in his eyes. He pointed to the building they had just left, and then he pointed to himself again.
Sam followed Castiel's directions with his eyes, going through the familiar process of deciphering what Castiel meant. "Um… are you asking if we'll use you in the interrogation? Because we won't do that, Castiel."
But Castiel shook his head. He put both hands on his chest, trying to emphasize himself in the equation.
Sam pursed his lips slightly, running through the different possible translations. He could be worried the qalupalik is going to say something about him that someone doesn't like. Or maybe it has nothing to do with the interrogation. Maybe he's worried the other people in the building are going to find out he's an angel. Or maybe—
Castiel pointed to his neck then—to the bandages and tape—and then he made some clawing motions over his chest and arms. He pointed to the ranger station again, and then he pointed to himself again, his eyes wide and full of a need to make Sam understand.
Sam felt a weight come down on his shoulders, and he pressed his lips together in a thin line. "Castiel, are you afraid we're going to interrogate you?"
Castiel swallowed hard and nodded a few times, the muscle on his jaw pulsing as he ground his teeth.
Sam shook his head, his voice emphatic. "Castiel, I would never let them do that to you." He reached out and put a cautious hand on Castiel's shoulder. "I know there are some things you haven't told us. I know you hurt humans, and we don't know why, but that doesn't change anything."
Castiel pointed to the ranger station again, looking at Sam with confusion and worry in his eyes. It was almost the same level of terror he had had on his face when John first brought him home from the market.
"I know…" Sam stopped, struggling with his words. "I know it doesn't make sense. I know that if we interrogate the qalupalik for hurting humans, we should interrogate you for the same thing. I know that." He took a deep breath and squeezed Castiel's shoulder. "But…" He stopped again, wrestling with the terms and phrases flickering through his brain. "But…"
Castiel stared at Sam, eyes wide and frightened, waiting for the shoe to drop.
"But…" Sam wet his lips, thought for another second, and then smiled. "Ordonra."
Castiel blinked, his mouth hanging open slightly.
"You're my friend, Castiel. That's the difference." Sam shook his head, something like disbelief crossing his features. "I know you think we only keep you around and treat you nice because you're weakened, but that's not true. You can hide your wings, and you healed Dad, and you made that… weird, shrieking noise to fight the qalupalik. You're getting your strength back, and I'm not afraid; I'm excited. I'm happy for you."
Castiel's head jerked in the faintest shake, confusion written in the bright blue shades of his eyes.
"I am," Sam confirmed, squeezing Castiel's shoulder again. "I really am. You're my friend, Cas. I want to see you get better." He shook his head, a reassuring smile on his face. "I would never let them hurt you. I promise."
Castiel didn't move, didn't blink, didn't breathe. He kept staring at Sam, a tumult of emotion written in his eyes. He was scared, he was confused, he was in disbelief, he was hopeful. Then his hand started to move, slowly traveling up from his lap to his shoulder, fingers tentatively slipping over the hand Sam still had there.
"Ordonra," Castiel said softly, his tone almost making it a question.
"Ordonra," Sam replied just as softly, his tone making it clear he was sincere.
Castiel looked at Sam for a moment more, and then his gaze slowly wandered out to the lake in the distance. He slowly leaned back until he was laying on the windshield, his hand still resting on top of Sam's.
Sam was a little surprised by Castiel's decision to relax, but he went along with it, laying down beside Castiel and crossing his feet at the ankles.
For a brief moment, Sam considered telling Castiel about what he had learned from Dr. Page. He thought it might do Castiel some good to know Sam was still looking for answers and a way to lift the spells Castiel was under. But, at the same time, it might make Castiel worry about what John and Dean's reactions would be. It might make him worry about the rules he had broken; might make him worry that the angel visiting the hospitals would harm him further.
Let's just get this hunt handled. Then, when we're back home and things are closer to normal, we can talk about it.
So, Sam kept his mouth shut, and the two lay on the windshield of the Impala, relaxing under the summer sun. Sam could feel the heat soaking through the blanket they were sitting on, and he could only imagine how high the temperature was. At one point, a ranger pulled into the parking lot in their car, and they went into the station a few moments later. Sam felt his arm start to fall asleep, but he didn't move it.
"Maldashen."
Sam turned his head to look at Castiel, somewhat surprised by the attempt at conversation, and it took him a second to realize he had to look something up. "Oh!" He sat up straight and grabbed the messenger bag strap from his shoulder, putting it in his lap and pulling out the dictionary.
Castiel sat up, too, and he reached out to take the book. He put it on his thighs and flipped through until he found the word he was looking for, at which point he put the book back in Sam's lap and pointed.
"That does not look like the word you just said." Sam gave Castiel a bit of a sideways look. "Where's the 'sh?' I heard 'ss' not 'sh.'"
Castiel shrugged, and then he laid back down on the windshield, resting his hands on his stomach.
Sam watched him for a moment, and then he looked back at the book, forgetting the phonetics and looking at the definition. Drowned. He looked back at Castiel. "You were drowned?" he asked softly.
Castiel nodded a few times, looking out at the lake with a vacant haze to his eyes. "Tsaiga."
Sam slowly closed the book in his lap, approaching the topic cautiously. "You were drowned by the demons who had you?"
Castiel lifted one hand and rolled it in a circular motion, like one might make to subtly tell someone they were rambling.
Sam swallowed. "Um… it went on and on?"
Castiel nodded his head, and then he haltingly pulled his eyes off the lake, looking at Sam with defeated eyes. "Ne dana."
"You're sorry?" Sam echoed dumbly, immediately shaking his head. "Castiel, you have nothing to be sorry for. If the water aspect of this case has been bothering you, it hasn't shown at all." Sam huffed out an incredulous laugh, shaking his head again. "Yesterday, at the library, you saved me. And today, you helped Jo and me take down a qalupalik in its natural habitat. You're doing awesome!"
Castiel looked away, and it might have been the summer heat, but Sam could have sworn Castiel's cheeks were flushed.
"Seriously." Sam grabbed Castiel's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "You're doing great, Cas."
Castiel smiled faintly, and he seemed pleased with the praise Sam was giving him.
"And those demons that drowned you?" Sam continued. "We're gonna find them, and we're gonna make them pay, just like we did with the vampires." He got a little louder as he spoke, excitement bleeding into his voice. "And we're gonna find the angels that put these spells on you, and we're gonna reverse them, and we're gonna get you back to yourself."
Castiel smiled again, an almost patronizing light in his eyes, and he shook his head. He always made that face and gave that response when Sam talked about breaking the spells on him, and Sam had learned not to let it bother him.
"We're gonna do it, Castiel." Sam squeezed Castiel's shoulder again and then dropped his hand to the blanket. "Just you wait and see."
Castiel still wore that expression of disbelief—that face of 'you can't possibly understand what you're saying'—but he accepted Sam's words and laid down on the windshield.
Sam leaned back, too, interlocking his fingers behind his head. He let out a sigh and felt the heat of the sun shining down on his skin. Soon, his body would tell him to go back into the cool air conditioning of the station, but Sam was staying out as long as the interrogation went on. He was going to keep Castiel as safe and comfortable as possible, no matter what.
"Ordonra."
Sam smiled.