Spoilers: All episodes of Supernatural through 07x23. All episodes of Walking Dead through 06x16.
Timeline: Supernatural, after episode 07x23 and Walking Dead, after episode 06x09.

Chapter Summary: The morning doesn't go as planned.

Chapter Six
Feel the Quiet

Carol didn't expect to sleep, not in an untested hideaway with two strangers, no matter how decent they seemed. Yet, somehow, as soon as she shut her eyes, she was out like a light. It felt as if only a few seconds had passed before Daryl was shaking her awake for second watch.

She and Dean took positions at opposite windows. She wasn't sure what to expect from him, but he sat with his back upright and said nothing, just like Daryl. That made it much easier to focus on the darkness outside and search for any lurking dangers.

For a windless night, there was a lot of rustling brush, but it was otherwise uneventful straight through till morning. So much so that she found herself marveling at the weak blue light of the dawn.

What the hell had gotten into her?

Thankfully, she wasn't left alone with her musings for long, as Daryl rose with the sun. Soon they would be back on the now-long road home, and there wasn't time for lingering thoughts.

Cas got up moments after Daryl, his trench coat barely ruffled, despite having slept in it. He seemed oddly sharp for someone waking up, which made her wonder if he had slept at all.

Dean asked Cas to take over, and he answered with a wide-eyed nod before stepping in as lookout, effectively relieving them both.

The rest of them cleaned up and packed the cars. Then she gave the place one last going-over and found a few odds and ends - two thermal blankets, a first aid kit, and a handful of canned goods - scattered in random hiding places, like under floorboards or tucked in cabinet nooks.

She took inventory, even though she already knew that this trip wasn't worth the gas it burned. She had hoped that it'd shake Daryl out of this brooding fog, but from the look on his face this morning, it had the opposite effect.

A rushed of hushed tones caught her attention as Daryl and Cas came down the stairs.

"Something happening? Carol asked.

"People," Daryl spat the word as if it were a curse.

"How many?" she asked.

"Two maybe. Weren't even trying to be quiet."

"Eight," Cas said abruptly.

"You saw eight?" Carol asked.

Cas's expression became hard to read, and his voice, strained. He answered, "Well, uh, no, I didn't see eight, but - "

"In the ballpark?" Dean asked as he joined them from their truck.

On the surface, everything seemed natural, but Carol sensed something off, though she couldn't put her finger on what. It was like Dean was projecting a second, silent direction: Whatever you do, do NOT tell them what you're thinking.

Suspicion rose inside her like a serpent, hissing mistrust and caution.

Then Cas began, "Given an average decibel level for a functioning motorcycle and the environmental acoustics of the terrain, there were at least four combustion engines consistent with motorcycles - "

"Cas, we got it: eight," Dean interrupted. He then turned to Carol and Daryl, "Trust me, he's right. And if you ask, he will go on and on."

"You heard all that?" Daryl asked.

He sounded more impressed than skeptical.

"I, uh... have sensitive ears," Cas replied.

"Think we can get around them?" Dean asked.

"Nah, the two I saw were close," Daryl replied. "We leave now, they spot us."

"Even on foot?" she asked.

"If we're quiet, maybe not," Daryl said. "But then what? We ain't walking to Alexandria."

"Could scope them out," Dean suggested.

"Try and find a way around them," Carol added. "Or wait for them to move on."

"Either way, I want a good look at them," Dean said.

Carol wanted a good look, too. A group with four motorcycles and enough fuel to run them likely had resources. They could be a threat or possible allies.

She shook her head clear. Allies? They never had that kind of luck, and there wasn't any reason to expect that to change any time soon.

Castiel missed his insanity. At least, that was what Dean had called it.

It hadn't been pleasant, but it provided structure and purpose. He had taken Sam Winchester's burden - his memories of centuries of torment in Hell - to save him so that he, in turn, could help Dean stop the leviathans. It was an act of equal parts sacrifice and penance; after all, he was the one who freed those monsters from Purgatory and risked Sam's sanity in the same gambit.

When he witnessed the magnitude of the fallout from his mistakes, he could only wonder, Why am I still alive? And then the answer came to him: he lived to suffer, to pay for his misdeeds. The horror and terror of those memories were his punishment, and as painful as it had been to survive, it had given him a reason to live.

Even after he woke in the fog of madness that followed, he possessed a solace that fueled an inner calmness and strengthened him. It reminded him of the first moment he existed. There was nothing but the sound of his name - Castiel - like a herald's trumpet, and without knowing how, he opened his eyes and saw... everything. Well, everything that had been created before the angels, anyway. Even then, the expanse of creation was captivating, breathtaking, beautiful... long before those words existed, it was true.

Humans weren't the only ones who longed for a return to Eden.

His abrupt ejection back to so-called sanity had restored his mind and his will, but it exacted a price on his heart. He had felt it immediately, but he had no idea how deep that pain went until he feigned sleep to maintain his human facade. With Carol keeping watch just a few feet from him, he couldn't risk even the subtlest of his abilities, so he was forced to lay still and silence for hours.

At first, all he could do was think and think and think, and when he ran out of thoughts to district himself, there was nothing but the sensation of something furious and hungry gnawing away at him from the inside out.

Perhaps that was why Cas wasn't in the mood to be patient when his human counterparts began to debate the means to assess the strangers outside. The obvious solution was to leave the entire situation to Castiel, but there was no way to convince Carol and Daryl that, not so long as they thought he was human. And Dean had insisted on that particular illusion.

Everything would've been much easier if he had kept his mouth shut when he first sensed the approaching danger. Instead, he blurted a warning and attracted the nearest human - Daryl - to the window. That was why he was stuck in this ridiculous conversation.

Hoping to protect at least one of them, he abruptly suggested, "Someone should stay here."

"Can one of you cover us from upstairs?" Carol asked.

"You mean like a sniper?" Dean responded.

Before anyone answered, Dean's eyes drifted to Castiel, and Carol's and Daryl's were soon to follow. It did nothing to temper his anger.

"Got riffle in the wagon," Daryl said. "Think you can handle it?"

The very last thing he wanted was to stay behind when Dean was going into the woods to spy on unknown quantities armed with nothing more than a handgun and a machete.

"Yes," the angel replied stiffly.

When their new friends busied themselves gathering additional weapons from their vehicle, Dean grabbed Cas's arm and pulled him aside.

"You got enough mojo to go all invisible man?" he asked quietly.

It was a strange question, but easy enough to answer. "Yes, but - "

"Good," Dean interrupted. "Once we're out of view, leave the riffle - "

"And follow you," Cas said, completing his thought.

"Only if the coast is clear," Dean said. "Make sure there's not a small army lying in wait."

"You mean the living or the dead?"

"Both," the hunter replied gruffly.

Cas nodded his head and gritted his teeth. This had all the makings of a trying day.

It was a shit plan. The only other option was to hold up until the danger passed, and the thought of sitting on his ass one second longer made him want to crawl out of his skin.

So shit plan it was.

He didn't want to wait another second anticipating or talking, so as soon as he handed off the riffle to their would-be sniper, he raised his crossbow and headed out, pushing through the trees fast and silent, not bothering to look over his shoulder. Carol would be on his heels, or near enough, and she was all the backup he'd need. So why bother checking if their third wheel was in tow?

Not like it took a tracker anyway. These people were riding heavy-duty dirt bikes; a drunk idiot could follow this trail in the dark.

Five minutes on foot and he could hear them yelling their heads off.

He found decent cover behind an old oak within earshot. He wasn't going to risk getting closer until he knew what he was getting into.

"Listen, listen! We don't have camp!" a woman yelled.

"Oh, come on," a man said calmly. "You three are clean as daisies. No way you've been on the move scavenging for more than a day. You must have someplace to hang your hats."

"She's not lying!" a man yelled. "We don't have a camp!"

BANG!

Daryl's blood turned cold as the screams echoed.

"Either one of you want to follow in your friend's footsteps?" the calm man asked. "Then go ahead! Lie to me again!"

Then everything went quiet for minute or so, broken only by sobs.

"I told you," the calm man continued. "Everything you have belongs to Negan. You belong to Negan. Everyone you know belongs to Negan, too. They just don't know it yet."

His knuckles went white against his bow and only got tighter every time he heard that damn name. His blood went form ice to boiling, roaring in his ears and spurring him to his feet. Whatever or whoever Negan was needed to die, here and now.

Fingers grabbed at his shoulder, and he spun around quick, glowering at the contact. Carol's expression was telling, but she didn't know. She hadn't been there the last time. She hadn't heard what those people had said or seen what they'd done. She knew Negan was bad news, but not like he did. If she had, she would've been jumping at the chance to nail this bastard, too.

Before he could do anything else, rapid gunfire broke out, and he instinctively went for cover, pulling Carol with him. Not that it made a difference; wherever the shooting was coming from, it wasn't nearby. Not near enough to be hiding in the bushes, anyway.

"Shit! It's the trucks!" the no-longer-calm man yelled. "You and you, with me!"

All but one of the bikes pulled off, and without warning, Dean bolted towards the clearing.

"Damn it," Daryl said, rushing after him.

It was a fool thing to do, racing in without knowing what was waiting for them, but damned if he let him do it alone.

Dean dropped the guy on the bike with a headshot, but the rider's two cronies were armed with semi-automatics and weren't shy about using them. The spray of bullets forced Dean to fall back for cover. Daryl loosed a bolt to give him the edge, clipping one of them in the arm, but he had to duck before he could load up for another shot.

The uninjured guy ceased fire and began to make his way to Dean. Even though his blood was pumping, Daryl kept his head. All he needed was a little patience, and he'd put a bolt through this guy's eye.

So he waited for his shot.

But the guy abruptly changed course. The two people they'd captured had tackled his injured counterpart, wrestling him to the ground.

"Get off him!"

The Negan-supporter turned hard, cursing and threatening the captives, as if completely unaware that the gun couldn't help him if it was pointed the wrong way. Dean struck first, rushing headlong at the guy with a machete, stabbing him through the heart.

Daryl provided cover for Carol as she went in and delivered a killing blow to the last assailant before pulling him off his would-be captives.

"Those your people?" Dean asked, indicating the not-far-off shooting.

Needless to say, they were wary of new faces. The fact that not-too-far-off gunfire continued didn't help matters.

"Are those your people?" Dean repeated.

"N-no!" the woman said. "Our people aren't out here. I swear!"

Dean took off in the direction of the gunfight. Carol managed to grab hold of him as he passed by.

"What you doing?" she asked.

"It's Cas!" Dean replied.

That's all he said before he was booking it out of the clearing.

Yeah, this was a really shit plan.

Author's note: Apologies for the lateness of this update. This story has been in stuck in revision hell. I hope you've enjoyed this latest chapter.