Chapter 10

Don't fear the Reaper

I'm baaaaaaack. Yes that took a REAAALLY long time, I think... maybe its normal for you guys. Btw, sorry for any spelling errors in my AN's I noticed it happenes frequently, I write this just before I post the chapter so nobody prrofreads it. AND also, my computer is spazing out and my language is stuck on french... Which is helpful when I'm writing an essay in french but nowhere else. (EVERYTHING IS UNDERLINED IN RED AAAAAGH) SO anyway, apolagies for that!

Nimphidelle: I think Ron may return, not necissarily in the flesh... *wink wink* His Doppelganger might show up though! hahahaha... oops wrong fandom.

FUN FACT: In the original draft of this story, Castiel tried to run away but when Samandriel booked it Micheal kept an eye on him so he couldn't leave, therefor he never became a hunter and you never would've been reading "Chapter ten"

Castiel's POV

A tear slid down my cheek and dripped on the collar of my shirt.

I just couldn't believe it, after all this... Searching, asking, driving, and all this work to find my dad I finally stood in front of him. Or at least what was left of him.

RIP Daniel Milson the gravestone read. 1903-1988

"I was eight years old when he died," I muttered under my breath, "Ten years he's been dead."

I sighed and dug into my backpack, the only one I brought. The others were still in my white Chevy Comoro. (Which I sort of bought.)

I pulled out my student ID and dug a small hole in the ground next to my father's grave.

Placing the ID in the hole I quickly pushed the dirt over top of it and stood up.

"Lay to rest next to your father," I whispered and slung my backpack over my shoulder.

"Went down into the ravine to play you'll probably never find me." I wrote, making sure the email I was sending was to Michael Milson I clicked send.

Then I walked out to the bridge and threw my old pair of shoes off the edge, luckily no one was out since it was nighttime and no joggers would question me.

I threw one of my plaid shirts over to edge too - the one I showed to Gabriel when he asked what I bought - and then I walked back to my motel.

I deleted all of my contacts on my laptop and checked once again that GPS was off, I knew that deleting contacts wouldn't stop them from emailing me but I didn't care.

It had been three weeks since I got off that train in Mississippi, now dads search had led me all the way to South Dakota.

I opened my laptop and looked at the newest email I got, it was from Lucifer.

I guess Michael didn't get my email yet, but I only sent it yesterday.

"Hello Family, I know it's a little weird that I didn't tell you in person but this is a bit hard to say, I wanted to tell you at supper on Sunday but I never did then Cas ditched and things just started happening so I just wrote an email.

Okay so here it is; I'm coming out.

Yep, I figured it out in jail, before I thought it was something guys did, you know... Noticing how another guy is really hot.

All my lady friends in school did it - noticing how other girls were really pretty, noticing how their hair was really nice - but I guess it isn't.

That also explain why I didn't care if people called me Luci.

So there it is, I said it, I am officially out of the closet.

-Lucifer"

I stared at the screen, "wow," I said -I had gotten into the habit of talking to myself- "Michael will get two emails, one will be announcing Lucifer is gay and the other will be a suicide note."

I close my laptop and grabbed my backpack. I opened the door and climbed into my comaro then drove to the library.

I searched threw old newspapers for some hunt to start me off, after all Castiel Milson committed suicide last night, my name is Cas Milson the hunter.

I looked threw newspapers for a couple hours then I noticed the time - and that it was getting dark outside - so I put back the papers and headed outside.

I glanced across the street, and started to walk across. It was silent on the road, but then -just my luck- I heard a car turn around the corner and for a split second I realized it was going to slam into me, I turned to look as the head lights shone in my eyes and the car rammed into my hip stars flew and someone yelled, "balls!"

My eyes fluttered open to stare at at ceiling made of old weathered boards.

I blinked several times and turned my head to the side, I saw several bookshelves and a desk, piles of old books falling off the desk and shoved in places the shouldn't be able to fit.

I saw a door frame off to the side with someone in a spot they could be seen from my position on a couch.

He was an old man with a blue baseball cap on, he was wearing jeans and a plaid shirt with a green vest over top. He had that powerful look, like the "I've got guns, I can use 'em" he probably had a beard but I just couldn't see it from here.

He was talking - or more like grumbling - on the phone with someone while cooking something on the stove.

"I said stick 'em and burn 'em Garth! Nothing to it," he barked then flipped whatever was on the pan.

"God, how many casualties can you think of? They're just necromancers, they die just like humans. Burning the corps would just be a good idea, you know, just in case."

He sighed and said, "you are ridiculous," then he hung up the phone.

He flipped the pan again and dumped it on a plate.

He walked over and sat down in the desk, he forked his food - an omelet I think - and began to look through books while eating.

I shifted my position and raised my head.

The man looked up and swallowed his food, "so your awake," he said.

"Where am I?" I asked.

The man paused, "my house, I didn't take you to the hospital because you probably didn't want to end up there," he looked down at his books as if considering if he should say what he was thinking of.

"Possible child fugitive," he muttered.

"Who are you?" I demanded, sitting up, "and I'm not a fugitive."

"Good, that's good, and I'm Bobby, I'm a hunter too," he said.

I stood up an walked over to his desk, "how do you know that?" I asked.

Bobby looked up at me, unamused, "you have an exorcism in your shirt pocket, knifes in your boots and a bunch of other guns and silver, rock salt, hunter stuff in your backpack."

"You looked through my backpack," he muttered.

"It wasn't zipped up you idjit, your stuff was all over the road," he said.

A phone rang - one of many - he reached over and picked it up "John, what do you want?" He demanded.

There was a pause as the other person talked.

"Oh, hey Dean what's the hunt?" Bobby said.

I looked over at him Dean?

"Ahh, I think you just burn them on the spot, but I'll look into it, call you back," he replied then hung up the phone.

"Who's Dean?" I asked, looking at him suspiciously.

Bobby grunted as he started looking through the bookshelf.

"You got to know everything kid?" He asked.

"My name is Cas, and yes. I do, to see if it's the same Dean I know," I replied easily.

Bobby set a couple books on the desk.

"Winchester," he said while he opened another old dusty book.

I nodded, "Sam and Dean, yeah I met them in high school, before I became a hunter."

Bobby looked up at me, "they dragged you into it?" He asked.

I shrugged, "a demon stabbed me."

"Oh."

"Thanks Bobby," I said as I loaded my backpack into my camaro.

Bobby scoffed, "I just gave you a hunt, nothing to hard," he muttered.

I shrugged, "I mean for not leaving me on the side of the road."

Bobby grunted but didn't reply. I opened the door of my car and waved once again then I climbed into my car and drove out of the driveway.

I turned on the radio, to the classic rock station. For those about to rock by AC/DC was playing.

After a little while I found myself singing alone and drumming to the beat on the steering wheel. I wouldn't dare imagine how bad my imitation of Bon Scott was.

The hunt was simple, a vengeful spirit who wanted revenge on a family that had gotten rather large over the years, so luckily the spirit only managed to kill three members, five survived.

It felt a little weird walking into a graveyard in the middle of the night with a shovel, gas, and salt, ready to burn a corps.

I walked closer to the older graves, but I stopped in my tracks. Someone was standing in front of the grave, he was pouring gas and salt all over the body.

I pulled out my gun but hesitated, the short man was burning the corps, he was a hunter -or a psychopath.

He flicked on the lighter and tossed it into the hole, flames erupted from the grave, giving the man an eery look to him, I sill couldn't see any details though.

Was it Dean? I thought.

The man swung his jacket over his shoulder and stood tall over the grave, he shifted his position and looked down triumphantly at the burning corps.

"You've been Garthed," he said.

I lost my train of thought, Garthed? What does that mean?

The guy slowly spun around and walked off towards the gate, he glanced over at me and smiled then he turned back but stopped.

He slowly turned back to me and I lifted my gun.

He yelped but pulled out his own gun, "who are you?!" He demanded.

"You first!" I yelled back.

The man paused and mumbled, "are you a hunter?" He obviously noticed my shovel.

I tipped my head to the side, "you just burned the corps of the lady haunting this place, I think your a hunter too," I said trying to sound confident.

The guy twisted his mouth, "yep! I am, and you've got a shovel so that's a real giveaway, I'm Garth."

Ooohhhh, "Garth-ed" Ha, what a weirdo.

"Cas," I said, "I'm Cas," I put my gun away and Garth did the same.

"Okay, your name is Garth and your a hunter, did you by any chance finish up a necromancer hunt a couple days ago?" I asked, Garth looked genuinely terrified, "How'd you know that?" He questioned.

"I was at Bobby's house when you called him asking for advise," I answered.

Garth nodded, "so you know Bobby-"

"I was crossing the street and he hit me with his car but yeah, I know him," I pointed out.

Garth grinned, "sounds like something he might do, how long have you been hunting anyway? You look like 17."

I scoffed, "I'm 18, actually, I graduated a couple months ago, and this is my first hunt actually-"

"Hey you! Kids! What are you doing?" Someone yelled from behind me, I spun around to see some older guy coming from the direction of my car, he was waving a flashlight at us.

"Oh no!" Garth yelled, "old people!"

"My car is over there!" I exlaimed looking at the Comoro behind the old man but Garth dragged me over to his saying, "old people don't call the cops they just beat you with a cane! Come on!"

We climbed into his little truck and sped away from the grave sight, gigging slightly at the old man who was staring at the burning corps inside the grave.

We drove for a while, then Garth asked where I was staying, at first it seamed a little weird to ask that because there only one motel in the whole place but I figured he might think I was saying at some five star hotel because this was my first hunt and I still had money.

"The shooting star motel," I replied, Garth coughed obnoxiously.

I turned to him, "what?" I demanded.

Garth shrugged, "just, I'm staying at the Comfort Inn, you know... Five star," he grinned, nodding.

"Do you have a hunting partner?" I blurted.

Garth paused, "yeah I have myself."

"I'm serious Garth, if I hunt by myself I'll get killed, I just... If you didn't have a parter already," I muttered.

"We could hunt together, just be warned I have my own techniques and actually, I do have a real hunting partner - who isn't just myself," Garth said.

I glanced at him, "who?" I asked.

"His name is Mr. Fizzles," Garth said triumphantly.

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