This took forever to get done! I am averaging 31 days between posts! AHHHHHH! I'm sorry to all you patient and lovely and beautiful and smart and wonderful people!
"No, no," Sam shakes his head as Lou pulls into the drop off bay at the airport. Through the windshield he points to the long-term parking lot. "Get a spot."
"Why?" Lou gets mad right away. He planned to come all along. She knows it.
"You know why," Sam simply tells her, reaching into the backseat, grabbing his duffle back he stashed behind the passenger side. He pulls it into his lap and looks at her. "It's still a three ounce carry on limit, right?"
"You serious?"
"Well, I haven't flown in a while…."
"This whole ride… you said nothing!?" Lou gets pissed all over again.
"I was just giving you ample time to invite me along and use the ticket Lizzy won't be." Sam shrugs innocently.
Lou shakes her head and pulls up into the drop off bay. "This is a family thing. I got it."
Sam wrinkles his face with the painful words. "Harsh," he simply says.
"Shit. I didn't mean you weren't family."
"You did. And I get that you and Derek probably need the time to figure out your crap without the husband he's never met around. But… a demon is a demon. You need back up. Go park in the lot."
"No," Lou refuses, stubbornness her Achilles heel. She opens the driver's side door and makes to step out.
"Yes," Sam counters, grabbing her arm to prevent her from exiting. "Look, you know me well enough. If you don't let me come along…."
"You'll be on the next flight anyways," Lou huffs petulantly and sits back in her seat. Arms crossed, she gives him a dirty look.
Sam smiles. He won. "You gonna park the car, or…."
"Bite my ass," Lou complains hard and shuts the driver's side door. She eats her pride and pulls away from the curb, heading for the long-term parking. "I don't like how sneaky and stubborn you're becoming."
"I've just been learning from the best, dear," Sam smirks patronizingly.
"Ah!" Sammy shouts and launches himself off the swing he's sitting on. He runs away, fear all over him, as he screams out.
"Samuel!?" Castiel panics a bitch with the sudden change in his mood. One second ago, they were enjoying the day outside. Sammy being pushed by Cassie on the swing. He loves that. Now, Sammy's on the opposite side of the backyard and freaking out.
"Bee!" Sammy answers, still shouting with fright.
"B? Like the letter? Or…."
"Bumble bee! Ah!" Sammy keeps yelling.
Castiel relaxes instantly. "Oh, Samuel… you don't have to be so scared of a bee."
"It's gonna sting me!" Sammy keeps getting scared, running about when a bee comes closer to him. He sprints for Castiel and runs right into his legs.
"It's not going…." Castiel tries to explain but Sammy isn't listening. Instead, he's pulling open the bottom of the trench coat and trying to hide himself under it.
"Cassie! Make it go away!" Sammy pleads from under the tan fabric.
This actually makes Castiel smile.
"No. I won't make the bee go away," Castiel very evenly explains, keeping calm to show there is no need to fear the insect. He then reaches down and picks up the frightened child, holding him on his hip.
"No!" Sammy yells when he's exposed again, eyes darting about for the evil flying offender.
"The bee is gone, Samuel. Calm down," Castiel tells him, holding tight and looking right at the boy. "Deep breath."
Sammy listens and breathes deeply once. He starts to relax when he can see the lack of fear in his best friend.
"Bees are not to be feared, Samuel."
"One stinged mommy!" Sammy loudly fights. "She sitted on it and it stinged her butt!"
Castiel fights a smile. "That's unfortunate."
"She yelled bad words and it hurt her. Bees sting people!"
"But they don't want to."
"Yes, they do!"
"No, they don't want to sting you. I promise," Castiel explains.
"They don't?" Sammy questions, starting to believe his friend.
"Not at all. Bees are actually good. We need them very much."
"Why?"
"Well, because they make all the plants and flowers grow," Castiel tries to explain as he starts to walk over to the perennial flowers Lizzy planted along one of the lengths of the wooden fence in the backyard.
"How they do that?" Sammy asks, his honest wonder quite cute.
"Well, the bees are always after nectar," Castiel starts to spell it all out, how bee work to keep everything growing. "See the bees landing on the flowers?"
Castiel points to the purple and yellow blooms, bees buzzing all about and landing in the middle of each one.
"Yeah," Sammy quietly answers, clutching tightly to the angel's tan coat as he watches the black and yellow bad guys quietly and innocently flit from flower to flower.
"They are collecting the nectar in the center of the flowers. It's sweet and they use it to make honey back at their hives," Castiel explains with a straight face and tone, the topic of great interest to him once. "As they collect nectar, they also take pollen with them…."
"Hey," Lizzy points out the windshield to a sign for a bar-b-que joint just up ahead. "Late dinner!"
Dean gives the tempting sign, complete with cartoon character pig holding a plate of ribs like a cannibal, a good look. Then his eyes hit the road again. "Nah."
"Nah!?" Lizzy nearly shouts with shock. "What do you mean, nah!? This is Texas. That's bar-b-que."
"So?" he dismisses.
"It's bar-b-que from Texas!" Lizzy reiterates.
Dean keeps quiet.
"I… I… ugh. Well, shit," Lizzy complains and takes a folding knife out of her back pocket. He opens the silver blade and holds it out to Dean. "Let me touch this to your skin."
"Ha-fucking-ha," Dean grumbles. "We're making good time. I'd rather just get to Louisiana."
"Dean… we can stop for one meal. Nothing is going to happen in those few minutes it takes for you to unhinge your jaw and swallow a pig whole."
"Well, I'm not willing to take that chance." Dean sighs quietly. "I'd rather just get there and start damage control before he kills anyone else."
Lizzy sits back in her seat, nodding angrily. "Guilty until proven innocent."
"Bingo," Dean affirms.
Squeezing her eyes closed tightly and rubbing her temples, Lizzy does something she's never been good at doing. She stuffs the fire down and doesn't let Dean's pessimism get to her and lead to the outburst she'd love to let out. "Fine. Since I can't get through that notoriously thick skull of yours, how about you pull over for a bathroom break."
"Quick one."
"At the bar-b-que joint." Lizzy arches an eyebrow at him.
"We're not sitting down to eat."
"Nope, just pee… and to buy a couple pulled pork sandwiches to go."
"I'm not eating pulled pork in the Impala while I drive," Dean tells her with obviousness. She should know better by now.
"No, you can eat it while I drive," she offers, hoping to suck up and get on his good side. "I'll eat when you're done and get back behind the wheel."
Dean glances at his wife, the hopeful smile plastered on her face, and he melts a little. He hates that she's the only one that can do this to him. She can make him bend when in any other situation, with any other person, he wouldn't in the least. "Fine."
He puts on the blinker at the last second and pulls into the dirt parking lot of the bar-b-que stop.
Lizzy's grin goes full wattage, knowing that she won something very little. Sure, he's the one in the wrong about this whole Benny thing, but Lizzy's never done well when at odds with Dean. She hates that feeling of discomfort and that intangible something that stands like a roadblock in the middle of their relationship. She just needs to smooth it over a little before heading into a very difficult situation.
She needs him to trust her. And food always makes things go better with Dean.
*Ding*
"Fucking finally!" Lou cheers when the seatbelt light goes off on the overhead warning lights.
With curiosity, Sam watches Lou open her safety belt and jump out of her aisle seat in the small plane headed to their transfer in Chicago. She opens the overhead compartment and yanks her carry-on bag down. She pulls a couple books and a leather-bound journal out before replacing the bag and plopping back into her seat. She starts by opening the journal.
"Never seen that one before," Sam comments, nodding to the handwritten pages.
"It's not mine… technically," Lou answers in short, flipping through for something specific. "But… it's kinda mine."
"Then who's…?" Sam starts to ask but when he really looks at the handwriting he already knows. "Bobby."
"Yep." She keeps turning pages.
"But I've seen his journal. That's not it."
"Nope. It's mine. And Lizzy's… kinda."
"But I know what your journal looks like. I gave it to you. And Bobby never wrote in it."
"I know."
Sam just stares at her and waits. She doesn't look up. When Lou is annoyed she can be one stubborn bitch. "You're gonna make me ask."
"When Lizzy and I started hunting, Bobby decided to start a journal of all our hunts. We'd kinda report back after every hunt and he'd write it all down here, adding info that we might need in the future. Mostly it's ghosts and small stuff, but later it gets a little heavier… a-ha!" She points to a specific page with glee. "Got it!"
"What is it?" Sam questions as he leans over to read along, his curiosity always trumping everything else, even annoyance with someone.
"Okay, so… early in our all-pro hunting careers, Lizzy and I ran into this demon. We had no idea what to do, freaked out, and long story short… I recited an exorcism with Bobby over the phone feeding me every Latin word."
"Sounds hairy," Sam comments, remembering when he was young and new to everything supernatural. There were some very terrifying moments. A demon when he was inexperienced? Too much to handle. Hell, even that demon Dean and he dealt with on a plane when he was just twenty-two was horrifying enough and he had been in the hunting game since he was nine.
"It was. And the demon said some weird shit to us that totally creeped me out at the time."
"Like?"
Lou points to the list of quotes she gave to Bobby over the phone right after they exorcised the demon. "I know what your brother did."
Sam looks at her with renewed interest mixed with massive concern. "That's… uncomfortable."
"I know. He also said, 'Derek will burn' and 'Your family is cursed'," she explains without a worry. "You know, that last one he said to both Lizzy and me. Huh. He must have known my dad was a whore. Fucking demons and their knowing all kinds of shit." Lou buries herself back into the journal.
Rendered speechless for a moment as he processes her lackadaisical attitude, Sam then asks her, "What the fuck is wrong with you!?"
Immediately, the woman in front of them seated next to her young son turns around and shoots him a nasty look for swearing so loudly.
"Sorry," Sam quickly spits out.
She turns back around, appearing no less annoyed.
"Why are you asking what the fuck is wrong with me?" Lou wonders, the woman turning around sharply once more, even more pissed. Lou rolls her eyes. "He already heard the word. What's one more time?"
"Just keep it down," Sam tells Lou as the woman in front of them fumes, arms crossed as she turns back around once more. "And I'm asking what's wrong with you because seriously, what's wrong with you? You had a demon say all this to you and it didn't occur to you that it could be an issue?"
"At the time, yes," Lou says honestly. "But then… I don't know. I just thought that demons were assholes and they were messing with me. They do sometimes do that…."
"Yeah, sometimes…."
"And then nothing came of it. So, I let it go."
"Well, nothing came of it until now," Sam counters. "What info do you have on it?"
"Not much," Lou shakes her head. "We were in Oklahoma for a haunting and somehow a demon found us. It stalked us for a few days, Lizzy caught a glimpse of black eyes, we called Bobby, made a plan to lure it, recited the exorcism, demon gone."
"Did you ever ask Derek about it?" Sam has to know.
"Nope."
"What!? Why not?"
"Because every time I called him he wouldn't answer the phone," Lou tells him. "You already know Derek totally cut me off when I went into hunting. From the second I got into Lizzy's car and left home… I haven't talked to him."
"Wait, not once?" Sam asks with sheer disbelief. She shakes her head no, her face betraying her. She looks sad about it. "That's insane."
"He thinks I'm insane." She tries to shrug it off.
"Yeah, but… come on! Dean and I have had our differences before. Hell, differences is probably putting it way too lightly. But I would never cut him out of my life."
"What about college?" Lou turns it around, not meaning to start a fight but feeling the need to defend her estranged brother for whatever reason.
"What about it?" Sam wonders, brow wrinkled in confusion.
"When you went to Stanford, didn't you cut your brother off?"
Silent for a second, knowing she might actually have a good point here, Sam's mind looks for a rebuttal. "I cut dad off."
"But if you cut off John, don't you just automatically cut off Dean back then?"
He's busted. "I… never meant to cut off Dean. It just worked out that way kinda. He didn't call me because he was pissed and I…."
"You never tried," Lou finishes his thought. "Don't crap on Derek. He thought I was literally crazy and I wasn't listening to reason. He tried to get me to stay and I told him I couldn't. And, like any rational person would, he kept telling me there were no demons. I told him, like any insane person would, that he was wrong and I was going to hunt them down. Does Derek sound all that terrible now?"
Pausing for a second, Sam concedes. "No. He doesn't."
Lou sighs, leaning back into her plane seat. "Derek and I… we always have had our problems. We clashed. And when our parents died… neither of us dealt well with it. And I disappeared on him when he probably needed me the most." Her face scrunches with the pain of it. "I ditched him. I picked my best friend over him to go off and deal with imaginary monsters. Derek never forgave me. I don't exactly blame him."
Both go silent for a moment, contemplating everything. Sam can feel the guilt radiating off of her. Being an expert with guilt himself, he gets it. And she's been carrying this for too long.
"Lou… you know you made the right choice, right?" Sam tries to make it better. "Leaving to hunt? You've saved lives and helped people…."
"Just not my own flesh and blood," Lou comments, her expression serious as she gets back into her journal. "So, what do you make of this? Think it's related?"
Lou angles the journal so that Sam can easily read it. One look at her face and he knows she needs him to move past this issue for now and focus on the task at hand. He understands. Quickly, Sam reads through the entry. "The demon mentioned Derek burning and knowing what he did."
"Yep."
Approaching this carefully, Sam offers up his theory that he believes should be obvious. "Think it's possible that he made a deal?"
"A crossroads deal?" she asks with shock. "Derek? No way."
"You don't think it's possible?"
"I mean, I guess anything is possible… but even now, after he called me and saw a person with black freakin' eyes, he still is having a hard time believing. There's no way he made a deal."
"No knowingly, at least," Sam offers.
"Meaning?"
"I've heard of demons making deals without fully disclosing the cost on the human end."
"Making a deal and not telling people it'll cost their soul!? Fucked up."
"Very, but they're demons."
"Assholes," Lou mutter with hatred.
"We should ask him about any major life changes or strokes of massive good luck within the last ten years."
"Yeah," Lou nods, praying this isn't it. She then rubs her eyes hard, the day already taxing and exhausting enough.
"Okay," Sam says, stealing the journal and placing it on his own tray in front of him. "You need to catch some sleep."
"Yeah right," Lou scoffs, thinking how impossible that sounds right now.
"You're wrecked. You had a rough enough and late enough night and it isn't going to get much easier the second we arrive in Boston. Take a nap. I'll pick through this for anything helpful."
"You really think I'm going to be able to pass out right now, with Derek having demons on his ass?" she asks him sure she can't."
Sam smiles, and presses the overhead call button. In seconds, a flight attendant is at their side.
"Can I help you?" he asks.
"Will you be around with a beverage cart for this flight?" Sam asks.
"In a few moments, yes."
"Then, can I bribe you to swing by here first and unload as much Jack Daniels as you're allowed to?" Sam questions, grinning in a way he's seen Dean do a million times. He sucks at sucking up very badly but hey, he can always try.
The flight attendant's face lightens up and he grins, leaning on Lou's chair back with an elbow. "Are we starting the party early?"
The way the man looks at Sam, eyes lighting up the way Lou's do when she knows she's getting laid, he sees the game he has to play. Flirt. He sucks at flirting more than he sucks at sucking up. Quickly, hiding his hand with his wedding ring on it under the journal, he smiles back. "No. My sister here, she's a terrible flier. Very nervous. But, she loves her Jack. I figured I'd help her relax. Would you mind helping me out…." Sam peeks at the name tag. "Oh, Jack. What a coincidence."
Glancing at Lou, he sees her eyes wide in amusement as she watches her husband flirt with a man for her benefit. She's grinning like an idiot and making Sam feel even more awkward.
"Well, aren't you the thoughtful one…." Jack waits for a name.
"Sam!" Lou jumps in, ready to throw Sam under this gay bus with all her might. "His name's Sam. My big brother, Sam. He's a really sweet guy, always worrying about me. Never taking time for fun himself."
"Cute and thoughtful," Jack flirts right back, eyes locked on Sam's. "Hm. Well, honey, let me see what I can do for you and your sister." He winks and walks away.
The second he's gone, Sam's rubbing his face and clearing his hair out of his eyes. "Jesus…."
"Oh my god!" Lou turns to him and shout-whispers. "You just flirted with a dude!"
"I know…" Sam cringes, ready to never hear the end of this.
"To help get your wife drunk so she can pass out!"
"I know!"
"This is awesome!" Lou laughs with delight. She then turns around and peeks down the aisle. She can see Jack collecting small nips of Jack Daniels in his hands all while speaking with a goofy grin to the other female flight attendant back there with him. They both giggle and glance to Sam, the female's eyes lighting up. Lou turns back to Sam. "Oh, you're screwed."
"What!?" he panics.
"Jack's got it bad. And eventually I'm going to pass out…."
"Shit."
"I should set up a time for you two to meet in the bathroom."
"No…" Sam strongly rebuts.
"Come on! You totally need to join the Mile-High Club!"
"Lou!"
"Sam! He's cute!"
"I'm not gay!"
"Just a little experimenting never hurt anyone."
"I hate you."
"Can I come watch!?"
"Shut up!"
"I bet it'll be hot!"
"You're fucking twisted…."
"Hey there," Jack interrupts them, suddenly standing by Lou's side.
"Hey… J-Jack," Sam falters, now more nervous than he can ever remember being. Fucking Lou.
"So… I was able to sneak a little something for you," Jack grins, placing four nips of Jack Daniel's on Lou's tray, all while keeping his focus on Sam.
"This the best you could do?" Lou scoffs, knowing this is just enough to get her tipsy these days.
"Thank you, Jack," Sam cuts her off. "That was really kind of you."
"Yes, well… just trying to help out a guest on our airline," Jack winks again and places a folded piece of paper onto Sam's tray. "I don't know where you'll be staying once we land but… I have a layover for the night. You should give me a call if you'll be in the area."
"I… I, uh…." Sam can't for words.
"We'll be in the Boston area. I'll make sure my brother gives you a ring." Lou grins wide with triumph.
"You do that, sweetie," Jack pats her shoulder. "Just press that button again if you… need anything." He says it while staring at Sam.
"Oh, we will!" Lou answers with excitement. Jack walks away and she sharply turns to Sam. "I need ice."
"You never drink Jack with ice," Sam rebuts her. "You just down it like a frat boy."
"I feel like ice today. I should call Jack back here…" Lou says playfully with reaching up to hit the call button.
"No!" Sam freaks and grabs her wrist stopping her.
"Dude, I want ice!" she tries again, fighting with him as she grins.
"Lou! I swear!" Sam grabs her other wrist.
"You swear what? That you'll give that man the best tiny bathroom sex of this life?"
"You suck!" Sam tells her, letting her hands go. "And clearly you forgot I'm still mad at you over the Benny thing. Or you wouldn't be busting my ass over putting myself on the line for your benefit."
This shuts Lou up right away. Oh, right. They're mad at each other. Lou cracks open a nip and drains it in one go. She swallows and sigh. "Forgot I was pissed at you for a second there."
"I could tell," Sam mumbles, reading the journal.
Lou watches the wall go right back up when the thought of Benny hits them both. She opens another nip and sighs. "I liked it better when you were gay." She downs the second nip with a new gloomy attitude.
Ten minutes of opening refrigerator doors and cabinets, and Castiel realizes he's totally lost. "Um… Samuel?"
"Yeah?" the child asks, not looking up from his paper and crayon artwork he is in the middle of creating while sitting at the kitchen table.
"What is it that you eat for dinner?" the angel wonders, very lost. He's never cooked before. Or eaten before. This is not in his wheelhouse.
"I don't know," Sammy answers, unsure of how to explain what he eats from day to day. It's always different and he never makes it himself.
"Could you possibly give me an example?" Castiel keeps trying.
"Example?" Sammy questions, confused.
Castiel sighs. He's not getting anywhere fast. "What did you eat for dinner last night?"
"Nugs and carrots," Sammy tells him, reaching for the blue crayon closest to him to make the sky in his picture.
"Nugs? What's a nug?" the angel now has to ask.
"Chicken nuggets. Daddy calls 'em nugs."
"Right. Because why would Dean Winchester ever just call a spade a spade…." He rolls his eyes. "Well, this could be a problem."
"What problem?" Sammy wonders, putting down his crayon and turning in his chair. He sits with his legs tucked under him and he looks at the angel with confusion.
"Samuel, I am not much of a chef," Castiel explains, walking to sit at the table next to Sammy. He pulls out a chair and plops down. "When I promised to babysit you, I see now that I never actually considered all the moving parts of caring for a human child."
Sammy doesn't answer. The confusion never leaves his face.
"I don't cook." Castiel clarifies it quickly.
"Auntie Louie don't cook, too," Sammy tells him, looking to make his best friend feel better. "She maked mac and cheese and it burned. It was yucky."
Castiel smiles. "I appreciate that. But it doesn't solve our problem. You need dinner."
"I hungry."
"I know."
"I want pizza."
Sitting up tall, Castiel takes the comment for what it is. The easiest solution there is. "Yes. Pizza. Everyone likes pizza… or at least your father has told me that before."
"I like pizza." Sammy nods, eyes wide. He starting to see what all this could mean for him. He mentions pizza, his best friend gets it for him. Hmmm…. "I like ice cream."
"Nice try, little man," Castiel comments with an expression that shows he knows Sammy's game. "But pizza we can do. What do you prefer on your pizza?"
"Cheese!" Sammy lights up.
"And?"
"Cheese!" Sammy repeats, giggling.
"Cheese pizza it is," Castiel grins, pulling out his phone. He opens the browser, finds a local place that delivers, and calls the number. "Hello. I would like pizza, please…. Oh, um, just cheese…. Well, I think three large pizzas should do it."
Sammy grins wide. He's having pizza every night for the next several. When his daddy isn't home and they get pizza, there's always leftovers. And he always gets some of the left overs.
"Very good. Um… Cass, uh, Novak…. Oh, yes… 12 Smith Road. Thank you very much." Castiel ends the call and looks at Sammy. "We eat in a half hour."
"Yeah!" Sammy cheers. "I draw still now?"
"Yes, you can keep drawing for now," he tells Sammy and as the boy gets back to work he glances at the pages. The blob with yellow and black stripes makes him grin wide. He has more of an influence on this boy than he realized, at least until now. With pride, Castiel takes a crayon and a blank page and sets to work. He needs to make some flowers to go with the bee Sammy drew.
Peeking to her side, Lizzy smiles. Out like a light with a smudge of bar-b-que sauce on his cheek. After the huge pulled pork sandwich, Dean is done for.
Sliding out her phone from her jacket pocket, Lizzy pulls up Benny's number and dials. She takes a second glance at Dean as it rings. He has his face smooshed against his fist which is pressed to the glass passenger window. If anything can put her man down its too much bar-b-que… or some really good sex. Let it never be said that Dean isn't a simple man deep down at the heart of it. She can still picture him as a frat boy chugging beer or a Sunday dad asleep on the couch mid-football game. Or mowing the lawn. He was destined for the normal… until fate shit on his destiny, of course.
She laughs to herself quietly, glad she could have a few minutes to herself to prepare for this case ahead of them. They're at opposing sides. It's rare and it's making her very nervous for how this may play out.
"Well, what a lovely surprise," the warm voice answers, happy as can be.
"Benny, Benny, Benny… you've been a bad monkey," Lizzy tells him. She knows he'll never pick up on the quote from a movie made while he was Purgatory-locked but oh well.
"Wh-why is it I'm a primate?" Benny wonders in a southern drawl.
"You aren't. But you're in deep with me."
"Why's that?"
"There's a drained body in the town I heard you've been skulking around in," Lizzy tells him straight up.
"Skulking?"
"Yep."
"I'm not a skulker, sweetheart. I'm just working," he explains.
"Working…?"
"In a diner. Being a citizen. Regular Joe."
"Wow!" Lizzy cheers. "And you're keeping your nose clean?"
"Yes ma'am," he says. "Still on a regiment of stolen blood and farm animals when I must."
"Then why is there a vamp kill in Carencro?" Lizzy gets serious.
"How you know I'm in Carencro?" Benny gets very suspicious.
"Well… don't get mad." Her stomach churns preemptively.
"How could I get mad at you, Liz?" Benny sweetly responds.
"Dean and Sam put a tail on you," Lizzy lets it go. "They don't trust you and Lou and I being linked to a vampire is freaking them out. They're just trying to protect their family…."
"Say no more," Benny stops her there. "I get it. I'm a monster. Ya'll kill monsters. Us bein' friends is way against the natural order."
"Exactly."
"Do I need to keep an eye out for some hunters lookin' to whack me?"
"No, sir," Lizzy smiles. "I'm handling it."
"And how's that?"
"I'm on my way to you," Lizzy tells him. "I'll be in town by midnight."
"Well, isn't that lovely?" he happily comments.
"With Dean."
"Less lovely, but if it means I can see you then I'll watch my neck."
Lizzy laughs quietly. "We'll find a motel when we get in, get a few hours, and I'll meet up with you?"
"How about dinner shift? I'll text you the address of my diner."
"Right… you sleep all day," Lizzy smiles. "Done deal. I got your back Benny. I know you didn't do this."
"You're right. I didn't. But I'll be glad to help ya'll figure it all out."
"See you tomorrow?"
"With a grin on my face, darlin'."
"Bye, Benny," Lizzy keeps smiling and ends the call, happy to know that Benny will at least still be happy to see her, despite the situation.
Another glance at Dean, still conked out, and Lizzy makes another quick call. Hopefully she'll get an answer.
"Hey," Lou answer the phone, sounding tired and breathless.
"You better be out of breath because you just joined the Mile-High Club." Lizzy grins wide, happy to hear from another someone not mad at her.
"I didn't, but Sam did," Lou says, clearly with a smile.
"Just Sam?"
"And his new boy toy."
"What!?" Lizzy wonders, completely confused.
"Long story. I was running from one terminal to the other for our second leg of the flight. What's going on?"
"I'm driving still. Just leaving Texas. Dean's passed out in the passenger seat."
"Road head?" Lou questions.
"Pork sandwich."
"Ah," Lou understands well. "Nice work."
"It gives me a few minutes alone. No hatred."
"He's still super pissed, huh?"
"Most definitely," Lizzy nods, sighing. She peeks at Dean to make sure he's still asleep. "At least he sticks to his convictions."
"Yeah, ask Benny how noble he thinks that quality is when you get to Louisiana," Lou spitefully comments. "What's your plan?"
"I want to get to Carencro and start poking around. I'm meeting Benny at his place of work at night."
"Uh… excuse me? His place of what?"
"You heard me."
"Where's he working?" Lou asks, shocked.
"A diner."
"Solid. What did he say when you asked about the vamp kill?"
"Wasn't him. He's still on bagged blood and cows, but he'd be happy to help us kill what's draining people," Lizzy relays.
"He's a good dude, that Benny."
"Indeed. How are things with you two? As icy as my side?"
"Pretty icy," Lou huffs a breath as she looks over to the line at the gate. Sam's holding their place as she takes the call from her sister. He looks especially constipated. "He's still mad."
"But so are you," Lizzy reminds her, hearing it in her tone.
"Yep. Real fucking quagmire we're in," Lou grumps. "I fucking hate when he gets this pissed off and stubborn. I mean, seriously, who the fuck is more stubborn than Sam Winchester?"
"Dean Winchester," Lizzy answers quickly.
"Tight race."
"Tied for thirds, Louise Becker," Lizzy smirks to herself.
"Shut up."
"We're all stubborn. That's why we all end up in this situation. We're all a mess of stubborn asshole-ness."
"Poor Sammy," Lou laments.
"He has no chance in hell," Lizzy admits.
Lou sighs when she gets a nod from Sam, the line he's in moving forward. "I gotta jet. Flight's boarding."
"Fine," Lizzy complains. "With no one to talk to I'll just have to start back at Led Zeppelin's self-titled."
"Listen to something else!"
"What else is there?" Lizzy jokingly asks, knowing her sister is so music-obsessed and trying her damnedest to get her to listen to different stuff.
"Queens of the Stone Age! Rival Sons! Fink! Horse Fathers!"
"Go catch your plane, Louie," Lizzy laughs.
"Florence and the Machine! Eagles of Death Metal! Black Pistol Fire!"
"Bye, bitch!" Lizzy keeps laughing.
"Black Keys! Lorde…."
Lizzy hangs up, smiling. She hasn't smiled since she left Kansas. A few minutes conversation with her best friend and everything seems better. Thank everything for best friends.
"What you makin'?" Sammy asks when he leans over from his chair to get a good look at what Castiel has been drawing for the past half hour.
"The infamous Hanging Gardens of Babylon," Castiel answers with a very serious tone, dropping the green crayon in favor of the gray to continue on with the building detailing. "It is said that the great king Nebuchadnezzar built it for his wife. She grew up in Media and was used to lush greenery. He made the gardens to make her feel more at home." Castiel looks over to the young boy and gives him a little insider information. "However, I was there."
"Where?" Sammy questions, always prying and looking for more information. From the start of their friendship, he's found Castiel fascinating. He has stories and he knows so much. Every time Sammy questions him he has actual answers, unlike his mommy and daddy. If he asks why too many times, they stop having answers. Castiel always has the answers.
"Nineveh… which is in modern day Iraq," Castiel keeps speaking. "Humans have not always been consistent with their history keeping. A long time ago, before computers or typewriters… people had no way to truly and consistently record the events of their time. Therefore, word of mouth and second, third… sometimes tenth-hand recounting was the best they could do and they were not accurate."
"Ac-curate?" Sammy asks, not knowing the word.
"Meaning correct. The stories were not correct. They were wrong with details."
"You say big words," Sammy exasperates, shaking his head as he presses a palm to his forehead.
"I apologize for that," Castiel says, not actually meaning it. "The point I'm making is that there were no Hanging Gardens in Babylon. They were in Nineveh. It was actually King Sennacherib that created the massive, quite impressive for the time gardens for his wife." He looks off for a moment, remembering. "He was very much taken by her… but I never could understand why. Insufferable woman. And she had the face of a horse…."
Castiel turns back to Sammy, his eyes wide as he's lost with all the angel explains.
"That wasn't very nice. I take that back. She was a lovely woman," Castiel lies, not wanting to make it okay for Sammy to make fun of others based on looks. He's an example for the boy after all.
"You bein' nice?" Sammy asks, thinking Castiel might be lying about her loveliness. He can tell when Castiel lies.
"I am being very nice," he emphasizes as the doorbell rings. He grins. "Ah. Dinner is served."
"Pizza!" Sammy cheers and follows closely behind the angel as he makes his way to the front door. Standing next to him, Sammy bounces on his heels with excitement as the door opens.
"Hey, man," the teen kid greets and hands over several pizza boxes. "That'll be twenty-seven fifty."
Castiel narrows his eyes and stares at the teen.
"What?" the teen grumpily asks.
"Twenty-seven fifty… what?"
"Uh, dollars?" the pizza delivery boy answers with an attitude. "The currency we use here in the United States of America."
"Oh, yes. You want money," Castiel says. He places the pizza boxes on the decorative table by the front door and reaches into his trench coat pockets. Nothing. "Oh… uh…." He then tries his pants pockets. Followed by his blazer pockets. "I seem to… be out of money."
The kid rolls his eyes and slumps his shoulder. "Dude! You ordered pizza and you can't pay!?"
"I'm sorry… I…." Castiel sputters.
"I'm taking the pies back," he bitches and reaches of the boxes.
"No!" Sammy freaks out and jumps between the pizza boy and the boxes.
"Little kid, move it!" the pizza delivery boy tells him, annoyed as all hell.
"Do not talk to him that way," Castiel warns, taking a step closer.
"Then pay up!"
"Wait!" Sammy shouts and takes off, running up the stairs as fast as tiny short legs can take him. With a head cocked to the side, Castiel stands there, listening to the racket Sammy makes somewhere on the second floor.
"I'm outta here," the teen decides and reaches for the pizza boxes.
Castiel grabs his wrist to stop him.
"Hey!"
"Be patient," he sternly warns the teenager.
Soon, Sammy is pounding his sneakers down the stairs. He rushes up to the pizza boy with a massive grin. He holds out his fist, several dollars stuffed in his hold. "You take this!"
The teenager takes the money, realizing quickly that it's at least three times the amount owed. "Whoa. Nice tip, kid." He smirks at Sammy.
"Thanks!" Sammy grins, now overly proud.
"Ah..." Castiel interjects, pulling half the bills from the wad. He then smiles patronizingly at the pizza boy. "Much better."
"The kid's still a better tipper than you, weirdo," he mutters and walks away for his car.
The moment they're alone, Castiel shuts the door and looks down at Sammy. "Where did you find that money?"
"In mommy's drawer."
"Mommy's drawer?" Castiel keeps prying, not sure they had a right to use the money Sammy knew about.
"Yeah! She has books and money and toys in a drawer in her room!" Sammy cheers and grabs Castiel's hand. He drags him to his parents' room and points to an open drawer on one side of Dean and Lizzy's bed. "I find it there!"
Castiel walks over to the still open drawer and peeks in. He instantly sighs with the carelessness he observes from Lizzy. In the drawer is the usual hunter faire; a bottle of holy water with rosary floating about, Lizzy's journal, an old book from Bobby no doubt, and a silver knife in a leather sheath that Sammy couldn't possibly open at his young age. Next to that is an open, plain white envelope stuffed with cash that has recently been messed with. And then… the truly inappropriate stuff.
Looking over the 'toys', Castiel shakes his head. He may be naïve with many things humans do, specifically sex, but he knows he's looking at two vibrators, a blindfold, handcuffs, a cock ring, and a small, relatively tame paddle. Sure, some of its uses concerning sex is a touch foreign to him, but he knows what Dean and Lizzy use them for. He reaches in and pulls out a black eye mask, looking at it particularly questioningly.
"Zorro!" Sammy shouts loudly. "Daddy say that's mommy's. She dress like Zorro sometimes because he liked it!"
"Who is Zorro?" Castiel wonders, not understanding.
"I don't know," Sammy shrugs, not getting that his parents use the mask for more private things. "I weared it once and daddy laughed really hard."
"Incorrigible," Castiel comments, dropping the mask into the drawer and sliding it shut. "Samuel, I suggest you stay out of that drawer from now on. I feel it's for the best."
"Okay," Sammy shrugs again. "We eat now!?"
"Yes, we eat now," Castiel smiles small.
"Yeah!" Sammy takes off running with pure excitement.