Chapter Three: New Soul ((Yael Naim))

It took Dean an hour to get out of the grassy field and find the road. In that time, he was convinced he'd turned himself around and was going in the complete opposite direction that he needed to be. It wouldn't have surprised him in the least, given his previous record with luck. Maybe Lucifer's charm really would help, if it gave him a good luck boost. He could certainly use it.

He should have known it wouldn't last, at any rate.

At the edge of the field, where the grass grew shorter than shin- length and trees started sprouting up, he came to the road Jo had told him to find. She was right. It was hard to miss. It was at least as wide as a stretch of highway, all uneven black brick, probably hand- laid, and wound through the newly- found patch of forest he found himself in.

"What, no yellow brick road?"

Rolling his eyes, he started down the path. He wished Sam were here. His brother might have found the joke funny. But the sooner he found this Chuck guy, the sooner he could figure out where his younger sibling had wound up. If he was lucky, Sam hadn't been taken here at all, and was still at home, trying to figure out how to get Dean back. But as previously stated, his luck wasn't the best, and neither was Sam's.

The forest was serene and peaceful. Soft breezes rustled the leaves in the trees, a few birds chirped happily as they flew around. It was almost picturesque, like something out of a Disney movie. It was also almost enough to grate on the nerves. Because this was Purgatory, dammit. It wasn't supposed to be full of calming meadows and Disney forests! Not that he was really looking forward to the dark and scary places, but at least it would make more sense that way. Dark he knew how to prepare for. But if Bambi walked out of this forest right now, he'd probably punch it.

Dean walked all day, stopping only when he needed a brief rest. The castle in the horizon didn't get any closer, although Jo had said that it would take a few days. Sitting on a flat rock near a stream in the camp he'd decided for the night, he hoped he'd come to the part of Purgatory where there were cars soon.

A quick look around rewarded him with an apple tree. He grabbed a few of the reddest apples he could find, biting into one as soon as he got it off the branch. He hadn't realized how hungry he was until he'd taken a bite, but it made sense. He hadn't eaten since the casserole at home, which had been last night. He wasn't sure about that stretch of time he lost between Earth and Purgatory, but he'd been walking for a long time at least. So it was safe to assume it'd been close to a day.

The sun was setting, so he figured he couldn't be too far off the mark. Unless the sun set at different hours here. He'd have to ask Chuck about all this when he found the guy. He'd never been to another world before, and he wasn't sure about the logic changes.

Dean made quick work of the apple, biting into another one as soon as he was done with the first, tossing the core aside. He went back to his rock, perching on it and watching the water in the stream. He hadn't seen any fish in it yet, but if he could find some, that would make a better meal than apples. But at least he wouldn't starve. The water looked clean and clear, so he'd have something to drink. He'd need to build a fire soon, before it got dark.

After finishing the second apple, he went off again, in search of kindling and firewood. At least he'd learned from an early age how to camp from his father. Otherwise he'd probably not survive the night around here. He wondered if Sam was doing okay, if he was in the same situation. Sam knew all the same things he did, probably more—the boy was smart. If he were here, he'd probably rig up a full- service camping suite out of branches and apples or something. Dean chuckled to himself at the thought, collecting dry branches wherever he could find them on the forest floor.

His arms were full of branches when he saw something in the distance. It looked like a fire, but it seemed to be contained to just one area. It was blazing, the light it cast dancing off the trees. Curious, he slowly made his way to it. While he hoped it would be Sam, or at least someone friendly, there was always a chance it could be dangerous. If Jo had been telling the truth, and supernatural creatures went to Purgatory when they died, then he was sure that a good majority of them wouldn't be happy seeing a hunter around.

As he got closer, he took in the scene. They were in a small clearing in the forest, enough to be close to the trees, but the forest wasn't in any danger of burning down from it. The fire wasn't a normal campfire. It was a ring of fire. The flames went up about waist height. He could tell this because there was a man standing in its' center. And he didn't seem to be in any hurry to move from it.

Curiosity won out in the end, and Dean stepped out of the trees, setting his branches aside in case he needed to fight. The man turned in his direction at the noise, but didn't seem threatening. In fact, he seemed just as curious as Dean himself was.

He didn't look like he should be out in the woods. He was wearing a rumpled black suit with a dark blue tie, topped with a tan trench coat. His tie was on backwards. He looked like he should be in an office building somewhere, not out in the middle of nowhere. He was a little shorter than Dean himself, with dark brown hair, almost black, a bit longer than his. He stared at Dean with bright blue eyes, not scared, just curious.

"Um… hey."

The man tilted his head. "Hello." His voice was deeper than his looks made Dean assume. Rougher.

"If you don't mind me asking," He took a step closer, keeping his tone conversational, "what's with the fire? Trying to keep bears out?"

He frowned, as if this were the dumbest idea he'd ever heard. "It's not to keep anything out. It's to keep me in."

"Oh. Why?"

"I didn't do this myself," he replied, deadpan as if it were obvious. "I was trapped here."

"You could just jump. It's not really that big a fire. Might singe your coat, but it's better than standing there."

"That's not how it works. This fire is lit on holy oil. I can't cross it until the fire is put out."

Holy oil? "Are you some kind of demon then?"

The man gave a tiny smile at that, barely more than the corner of his mouth twitching upward. "Completely the opposite, actually."

Dean frowned, looking him over. "So if I let you out of there, you're not gonna try to kill me or anything, are you?" If the guy was normal, he couldn't just leave him there. From the looks of him, he wouldn't last a minute if something supernatural showed up.

"Kill you? Why would I do something like that?" the man stared at him again. In fact, he hadn't stopped staring at Dean since he'd left the shelter of the trees. It was a little unnerving.

Dean shrugged. "Happens a lot in my line of work."

The dark- haired man seemed to accept this without further explanation. "I would very much appreciate it if you could help me. But I'd understand if the risk would be too much. Although I can assure you, I have no intention of hurting you."

With a sigh, Dean stepped up to the fire. If he was telling the truth, he'd help free him. If he was lying, he'd take his chances and worry about that later. It wouldn't be the first time. "Alright. I just gotta put out the fire, right?"

He nodded. "At least enough for me to step over."

That seemed simple enough. Dean scooped up some dirt from the clearing, tossing it onto part of the oil where the flames spouted from. He wasn't sure if it was really holy, but it was really oil, and water wasn't going to do them any good here. It took a few tries because of the amount of fire, but eventually he'd covered enough of it to extinguish a bit of flame, wide enough for the man to step through it.

"Thank you."

"No problem, I guess," Dean grinned. "Couldn't just leave you there. How'd you get trapped, anyway?"

The man stood where he was, outside the circle now, but inside Dean's personal space. It was weird, and Dean took an unconscious step back. The man either didn't notice, or didn't care. "Demons. It was a lapse in judgment, I was unaware they knew about this sort of trap. That was…" he stopped to think, tilting his head once more. "…at least two weeks ago, I believe."

Dean stared at him, eyes widening. "Two weeks? And you haven't died yet?"

Staring, the man seemed confused. "Why would I die?"

"Have you eaten this whole time? Had any water? You shouldn't be able to survive that long! C'mon, we need to get you something to eat."

The man continued to stare at him in confusion, but obediently followed Dean as he made his way back into the woods, picking up his branches along the way. As an afterthought, he took one of the bigger ones and lit it on the remaining fire. At least he wouldn't have to play with rocks to get a spark tonight. It was too dark for that now anyway.

He led the trench coat- clad man back to his little campsite by the stream, dumping the sticks in a pile and setting the makeshift torch on top. Within minutes the branches had caught, and there was a nice fire going. He told the man to stay put, while he went back to the tree to collect more apples. He wasn't sure how many the guy could eat, but if he hadn't had any food in two weeks, it would probably be a lot. He shed his green over shirt, gathering the corners to use as a sort of basket, grabbing as many apples as he could.

When he returned to the camp, the man was sitting on the ground a safe distance from the fire, legs drawn up against his chest. He stared at Dean once again, before his eyes dropped to the apples. Dean set the shirt- basket down beside him.

"They're okay, I've already had two."

He stared at the fruit, then back up at Dean, then back at the apples. His head tilted in that confused way again before he replied. "I don't need them. But thank you."

"Don't need them?" Dean stared incredulously. "You haven't eaten for two weeks. You should be dead by now. Just eat."

He looked like he was about to argue further, but thought better of it instead. He slowly picked up one of the apples, turning it over in his hands and inspecting it closely before taking a bite. He blinked a few times, as if it were the first time he'd ever tasted a damn apple and he was determined to put the taste to memory. Dean sat down on the other side of the fire, crossing his legs under him.

"I'm Dean. What's your name, anyway?"

The man swallowed the bite he'd taken before replying. "Castiel."

Weird name. "Castiel? What is that, some kind of angel name?"

Castiel nodded. "Of course."

"Why? Is it an obvious one?" he shrugged.

Another tiny half- smile. "It makes perfect sense that I would have an angel's name. Because that's exactly what I am."

Dean rolled his eyes with a snort. "Yeah, sure. Castiel, angel of Purgatory."

"Not exactly." Castiel took another bite of his apple, chewing slowly. "I'm not supposed to be here."

"How'd you get here, then?" Dean decided to humor him for now.

"I'm looking for someone," came the reply, as Castiel stared at the apple. "My brother."

Well, at the very least, Dean could sympathize with that.

"Is he an angel too?"

Castiel didn't miss a beat. "Archangel, actually."

Dean sat back, propping himself up on his elbows as he looked the other over. "No offense, but you don't look like an angel. You look like a private detective. Don't angels have wings? Wear white dresses and play harps?"

He just stared at the Hunter; as if that was possibly the stupidest thing he'd heard all day. Which could be the case. "That's nothing but myth. Although yes, angels have wings. In a sense, at least. But this is a human vessel, and they're hidden from view."

"Vessel? So you're just possessing someone?" Dean's eyes narrowed. Demons possessed people.

"It was done with his consent." Castiel frowned, looking vaguely offended. "I'm not a demon."

"So you're just walking around Purgatory wearing some poor guy and looking for another angel? Shouldn't angels be in Heaven anyway?"

"Usually an angel returns to Heaven when they die, yes. But this matter was… complicated."

Dean supposed he'd heard weirder things from stranger people. At least this guy didn't seem dangerous. "Okay, whatever. Anyway, I'm heading into town to see this guy named Chuck. Someone told me he has visions, whatever that means. I'm gonna see if he can help me find my own brother and get the hell outta here. If you want, you can come along. He might know something about this archangel of yours."

Castiel considered this thoughtfully, staring at Dean as if he could see through him. Finally he nodded. "I believe I'll do that. Thank you."

The staring thing still creeped him out. "No problem. But for now, I'm gonna get some sleep. Jo said the place is a few days away, and I've only been going for one."

A nagging voice in the back of his head, his hunter's instincts, told him it wasn't safe to sleep around a stranger. Especially a stranger he found in Purgatory who told him crazy things, like being an angel and asking people to possess, and looking for his angel brother. But Castiel didn't look like he was gonna kill him in his sleep. If he wanted to hurt him, he'd have done it already.

The so- called angel nodded, setting a half- eaten apple aside. "I'll make sure nothing disturbs you."

"You could always sleep too, y'know… I don't think there's much trouble brewing in the Disney woods."

Another curious head tilt. "Angels don't need to sleep."

Obviously Dean's humor was wasted on this guy. He rolled his eyes, turning over on his side to get comfortable. "Whatever. G'night."

"Goodnight, Dean."

And as persistent as that instinctive voice was, he didn't have any trouble falling asleep with the other watching.