Chapter Three
Castiel was running, every so often stopping to stab a demon that got too close with his angel blade. It seemed to be a never ending battle. When one demon fell, two more seemed to pop up in it's place. He dashed around a turn, only to pull up short when he realized he had just ran into a trap.
Demons now surrounded him on both sides, some in meat suits and others in their demonic forms. He had no choice but to stay and fight. He darted forward, lashing into the nearest demon, who went down with a cry. Castiel spun, blade whirling as he did so, catching two more demons as they tried to grab him. A claw-like hand wrapped around his shoulder, and without even looking Castiel's hand flew out and poured Grace into the demonic presence that dared touch him, ignoring the light that flared up and moving to meet his next opponent.
He was surprised when another group of demons waded into the fray and started attacking the other demons. One demon, a female, grabbed another that was trying to sneak up on Castiel from the side and rammed her hand through his throat, spraying Castiel with blood. He glanced down at himself in surprise.
That moment of distraction cost him. Suddenly he was rammed into from the side, and his feet flew out from underneath him. Castiel howled as his one wing landed in the burning flames that bordered the path. He arched his back and cried out, as pain unlike anything he had ever experienced flared up. He felt a hand grasp his shoulder and pull him out of the flames, but his mind was too locked into the agony to pay it any attention.
Dimly he heard a familiar voice shouting something as he was quickly hoisted up onto a set of shoulders. The movement caused his burnt wings to shift and he moaned out loud. He weakly tried to push himself off, but he could not. He could feel his Grace seeping out of the wounds in his wings. Never in all his millennia since being created had he felt torture like this. Castiel finally gave up his hold on consciousness.
~*~*SPN~*~*
Dean jolted awake with a gasp, immediately looking behind him to where he still felt phantom pain in appendages that weren't there, had never been there. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm his frayed nerves. Just a dream, he thought to himself. Or rather, a nightmare. There was no way he would let himself think otherwise; the thought that that might be happening to Cas was too horrible to grasp. He covered his face with his hands, horrified to feel a trace of tears leaking out from behind his closed eyes. "Fuck," he muttered to himself, his voice rough.
"Dean?" Sam asked quietly from across the room. "You okay, man?"
Dean started at Sam's voice, and quickly scrubbed his hands over his face to get rid of any remaining tear tracks before turning to his brother. Sam was staring at him over his laptop, concern written all over his face. Dean quickly glanced around for Bobby before remembering he had gone to bed several hours ago. Fuck, how long had he been sleeping? Dean shuddered and squeezed his eyes shut again at the lingering memory of the dream.
"Dean?" Sam prodded again, putting his laptop down and slowly standing to make his way over to Dean. When Dean still didn't answer, Sam cautiously reached out a hand and placed it on Dean's shoulder. At Dean's start, he quickly pulled back, knowing how Dean reacted to unexpected touches.
"'M fine, Sammy. Just a whopper of a nightmare," Dean said, scrubbing his face with his hands. He rolled his shoulders back, still unable to rid himself of the twinges of burning pain. He looked up at his brother and sniffed. "How long have I been asleep?"
"A couple hours. I was gonna wake you, but you looked like you needed it, especially if we are gonna pull off this thing for Crowley," Sam replied. He shot Dean another worried glance before stepping back to his laptop. "I was able to pull up some info on the museum. And guess what?" Sam paused and grinned at his brother. "We're in luck. The Egyptian portion is undergoing renovations. All of the artifacts are in storage until they finish in two months."
"Well, ain't that a mother fucking quinkydink," Dean snapped. Sam stared at him, and he grimaced inwardly. Sam didn't deserve that, but his back was still burning and worry for Cas was making him lash out. "Sorry," he sniffed.
"'S okay," Sam replied quietly, before shifting in his chair. "Uh, like I was saying, the artifacts are being held in the museum's storage area, which is in a separate building attached to the museum itself."
"So a simple B&E, then?" Dean asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Well, I don't know as I'd call it simple, Dean. There's still gonna be security measures to get past. Plus, whatever they have for guards. Bobby said he'd figure out the security for us while we're on the road."
"Speaking of, shouldn't we be hitting it?" At Sam's blank look, Dean spread his hands in an exasperated gesture. "The road, Sam. Let's go. Time's a-tickin'." He stood up, and almost fell back down as a wave of dizziness hit him. He glanced at Sam, who had his back turned and was packing his laptop into his duffel. Dean swallowed heavily, and straightened himself up slowly just as Sam turned and looked at him.
"Just let me go let Bobby know we're leaving." Sam turned and went down the hall towards the staircase, and Dean bent down to retrieve his own duffel, hissing at the imagined feel of burnt flesh as he picked it up. He snatched the Impala's keys and headed to the front door.
Sam came thudding down the stairs and gave Dean a small smile. "Ready?" At Dean's nod, he turned and opened the front door, revealing a sky that was just starting to lighten to pink and purple hues.
Dean hesitated at the bottom of Bobby's steps. He chewed on his bottom lip before sighing. There was no way he'd be able to focus on the road with the way his back and head were hurting. Add the fact that his vision was starting to blur around the edges, and he was pretty sure he'd crash his Baby before they even left South Dakota. "Sam," he said quietly.
His brother stopped a few feet ahead of him and turned around. "Yeah?"
Dean tossed the Impala's keys, and Sam grabbed them out of the air, a question in his eyes. "You better drive." He scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck and refused to look Sam in the eye. "Head's kinda fuzzy."
Sam clenched his jaw in worry, but nodded and didn't say anything, for which Dean was grateful. With a creak of hinges, Sam opened the driver side door and got in. Dean hesitated, glancing over at Bobby's window and seeing his surrogate uncle watching them closely. He lifted a hand in a half-hearted salute, and then climbed into the passenger seat.
The two brothers don't say anything to each other as Sam pulled the car out of Singer Salvage. Dean shifted down in his seat, and with the rumble of the Impala in his ears he drifted off, his mind filled with impossibly blue eyes surrounded in a field of red.
~*~*SPN~*~*
Castiel groaned as he swam back to consciousness. Although unconsciousness was not something he had ever really experienced as an angel, he immediately decided it was better than the burning agony that lit up his wings like wildfire. He shifted, and a soft sound like a whimper escaped the back of his throat.
"Ah, Cas. Welcome back to the land of the, well, humans, I guess." Crowley's voice sounded from nearby. "I'd say I'm sorry about your wings, but I'm not."
Castiel's eyes blinked open, and slowly focused on the face of Crowley who was sitting in a chair, fingers steepled against his chin and one ankle resting on a knee. "Crowley," he rasped. He tried to push himself into a sitting position, but an arc of pain shot through him and he fell back with a cry.
Crowley rolled his eyes, but stood up and walked over to the struggling angel. He reached down a hand and caught Castiel by the elbow. He immediately tried to pull back, but his strength was gone. Crowley tightened his grip and hauled Castiel up. He kept a hand on his elbow and led him over to the chair that he had just vacated.
Castiel sat and squinted up at Crowley, who stared right back. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Castiel sat back. "Thank-you," he ground out.
A smirk appeared on Crowley's face. "Don't thank me, Castiel. Thank your loverboy and his complete and utter devotion to you." Crowley rolled his eyes. "Because of that, I get something I've wanted to get my hands on for a very long time, and you get to be not burning in the fires of Hell. It's a win-win scenario!"
Castiel's eyes widened. "Dean," he whispered.
"Of course Dean," Crowley snorted. "Who else would I be talking about?"
Blue eyes narrowed as he glared at Crowley. "What did you make him do, Crowley?" he hissed. "If you have laid one hand on him-"
Crowley chuckled. "I swear, Castiel, you two are made for each other. He said the exact same thing to me about you. And I didn't do anything to him, don't worry your burnt little feathers off, he's fine."
At Crowley's mention of his wings, Castiel felt the pain he had been blocking out pour into him again, and he slammed his eyes shut and tried to breathe through the pain as he had seen both Dean and Sam do on multiple occasions. He pushed it down to a semi-manageable level, and tried to focus his Grace to heal them. Once again there was no respite, as he was still unable to heal. He grimaced as he was unable to find a comfortable position. Giving up, he looked around the room. "Where are we?" He asked Crowley.
"A little demonic safe house I created." Crowley replied.
"I am back on Earth?"
"Yes, but don't worry. Big brother isn't watching you this time." At Castiel's confused look, Crowley rolled his eyes again before motioning to the windows and door. "I took care of it. Anti-big-brother sigils. He won't find you."
Castiel nodded solemnly. Now that Crowley mentioned it, he felt the power of the sigils. "Twice you have saved me. I am injured and, as much as I hate to admit it, in your debt. I admit you have me at an unfair advantage, Crowley." He tilted his head as he regarded Crowley. "So am I your prisoner then?"
"Not so long as Dean comes through. I have too much to do to bother with an angelic prisoner. I do have Hell to run, you know."
Castiel said nothing and continued to stare at Crowley, who shifted uncomfortably. Injured or no, Castiel was still an angel, and no demon enjoyed the power of their looks.
Crowley gulped. "I think I hear one of my advisors calling. Gotta run. Make yourself at home, Cas. Mi casa su casa." He paused. "I'll be back when I hear from Dean." He vanished, leaving Castiel alone with his thoughts.
~*~SPN~*~
Dean crouched behind the large decorative rock, hearing Sam do the same behind him. He tilted his head and listened to the sound of the approaching guard's footsteps. Bobby said they would have two minutes to make it across the lot and through the door before the next security guard made the pass.
Dean pulled out his lock pick kit and paused when he felt Sam's hand on his shoulder. "You're sure you're feeling up to this, Dean? I can go in myself-"
"Like I told you two minutes ago and two minutes before that, Samantha, I'm fine. Now lay off, this I something I need to do." Dean growled lowly. "Shut up, guard's comin."
Sure enough, a beam from a flashlight illuminated the area above and around the rock, and the two brothers pressed themselves flat against its surface. The guard continued past, and Dean held up a hand to motion for Sam to follow. He slowly crept out from behind the rock and looked up and down the road. Seeing the coast was clear, he started for the door across the way, Sam right behind him.
They made it to the door without incident. Dean pulled a pick out, but was dismayed to see that his hands were shaking. He cursed under his breath; time was running out before the next patrol would pass. Dean looked over his shoulder at Sam, who looked back at him with worried eyes before snatching the picks out of his hand without a word.
Sam had the door unlocked in a matter of seconds, and he grabbed Dean by his coat sleeve before
shoving them both through the door and closing it carefully. Dean looked up the short hallway they found themselves in. At the end a few feet away it branched into a T-intersection.
He was interrupted from his thoughts by Sam grabbing his wrist and holding it up to examine. "The hell?" Dean snapped and tried to pull his hand back. Sam held on tightly and stared at the trembling hand.
"Jesus, Dean. You're clammy as hell, dude." He dropped Dean's hand, who immediately pulled it back and shoved it in his jacket pocket. "It's getting worse, isn't it?"
"Can we not talk about this here, Sammy?" Dean hissed, before turning and heading down the hall.
Sam clenched his jaw, but said nothing and followed after his brother. They reached the end of the hall and paused. "Bobby said there's a camera to the right of us, so remember what we gotta do is go to the left and stay against the wall. There should be an empty storage room right there that we can get into and access the air vents." Sam whispered. Dean didn't reply, but nodded his head to show he heard.
They darted around the corner, sticking to the shadows. They reached the door quickly and Dean was pleased to see that it was unlocked. He opened it and slid in, Sam right behind him.
Dean looked around the room. It was mostly empty, save for a few tables and chairs stacked up against one wall, and some boxes along another. He looked up and saw the air vent that Bobby had promised would be in there. He turned to Sam and gave a small grin. "You do realize this is the most cliché B&E we've ever done, right Sammy?"
Sam grinned right back, before moving to grab one of the chairs and bringing it over to stand beneath the vent. He stepped up on it and stretched up to push the vent cover out of the way, wincing at the sound it made. After a pause to make sure no one heard and would come running, he nodded in satisfaction and stepped back down. "Okay, you go up first and I'll give you a boost. Then you can help me up."
Dean snorted. "I got this, Sam. I'm a master at all things breaking and entering." He moved to the chair and stepped up. He reached his arms over his head. The vent was just out of reach. Dean bit his lip and swung his eyes over to meet Sam's, who was smirking widely at him. He looked back up at the vent and hopped on the chair, snarling when the vent remained out of reach.
Sam chuckled and moved over to the chair. "Sure you don't want my help?" Without waiting for Dean's reply, Sam grabbed Dean by the legs and hefted him up to the hole.
Dean yelped as his upper body was suddenly in the air vent. He pulled himself up the rest of the way and squeezed himself around to reach down to his brother. As Sam grabbed his hand, he glared daggers. "I would've had it, Sammy."
"Mmhmm," was all Sam replied as he settled inside the vent. He pulled out his phone and opened the plans that Bobby had sent to his phone. "We need to head down this way," he pointed, "and follow it until it reaches a T-intersection. Then turn left."
"Great," Dean muttered under his breath, as he started heading down the vent. The two brothers moved as quietly as they could, not wanting to alert any of the security that they were crawling through the ceiling vents. Dirt and dust kicked up by their shuffling tickled his nose and he held his breath to try to avoid sneezing.
*~*~SPN~*~*
Castiel was starting to feel desperate. Knowing Dean had made a deal with the King of Hell just to try to save him was not good, and Castiel felt dismayed knowing he had pushed Dean to that. But what really was making him worry was what Raphael was going to do.
He knew that Dean was still hidden with the sigils on his ribs, but Raphael was powerful. Castiel knew he was on some unknown time limit that Raphael had set, and he felt dread vibrate down his weakened Grace at what his older brother would try to do when he was unable to open the cage.
The thought of what Raphael was forcing him to do sent a pulse of rage through him, and his wings fluttered unconsciously, causing him to grit his teeth in pain. He needed to calm down. He needed Dean.
Castiel decided to try once again to reach for his bondmate. He pulled all his Grace that he could and focused it down the bond. He reached as hard as he could for Dean. For a second he felt him. Cas had a moment to wrap himself in the essence of Dean, before the fragile strands of his Grace that tied him to Dean at that moment snapped. His own Grace whipped back at him in the backlash, and he screamed before he descended once more into the waiting arms of oblivion.
*~*~SPN~*~*
"Next right, then follow down to another intersection," Sam said softly behind him.
As Dean crawled along he felt a tickle in his mind. Cas, his mind filled in. That felt like Cas! Dean closed his eyes and attempted to feel along the bond to his angel, something that had become harder and harder to do the longer he was separated from Cas. For a brief moment, he almost felt like he could feel him, but then his head exploded with agony; he fell forward onto his elbows with a gasp and blackness overtook his vision.
"Dean?" Sam couldn't see what was happening with his brother, but he knew that sound that Dean made. "Dean!" He tried again, as loudly as he dared. When Dean didn't move, Sam swore and tried to maneuver his large body around his brother's. He managed to squeeze Dean against one side of the vent, and inched his way alongside. "Shit, not again," he hissed when he saw the blood dripping from Dean's nose. He tore a strip form the bottom of his shirt and used that to dab at Dean's nose, then tapped Dean's cheek with one hand. "Dean, bro, come on." There was no response, and Sam shut his eyes and scrubbed his hand down his face.
Sam pulled out his phone and used the light of the screen to examine Dean closer. His skin was paler than before, and beads of sweat stood out on his forehead. "Shit. Fuck." Sam swore again. He shook Dean's shoulder. "Dean, man, please wake up! It's really not a good time for you to go all comatose."
Sam continued to shake and plead with his brother. Finally, Dean's eyes blinked open. "Oh thank God," Sam said in relief. But that relief was short lived, because it was obvious from the moment Sam looked into Dean's eyes that nobody was home. Dean's green eyes were glassy and vacant, and his mouth was slack.
Sam sat back as much as he was able and lowered his head into his hands. "Please just sit up so we can get out of here in one piece, Dean."
His hands dropped down in shock as his brother responded to his voice and sat up. "Hey, hey Dean? you there, man?" There was no response, but Dean's glassy eyes turned to Sam. Sam wiped again at the blood that continued to leak out of Dean's nose. He bit his lip, knowing they didn't have any choice but to continue. "I need you to follow me, can you do that for me?" He pulled himself in front of his brother, wincing at the bang his knee made on the vent. He crawled forward a couple of inches, relieved when Dean began following him. Apparently he was aware enough to follow orders when he was like this. "Can probably thank Dad for that," muttered Sam as he crawled along.
"Okay, so one more right and then forward about fifteen feet," Sam muttered to himself after glancing down at his phone for the directions Bobby had texted him. He glanced back every few feet or so, ensuring Dean was following him. He was, but the vacant look had not left his eyes.
Finally, Sam reached the vent that led down into the storage area where the Egyptian artifacts were being held. He released a breath he didn't realize he had been holding and turned his head to look at Dean. "Dean," he hissed, already knowing it would be useless, Dean was still lost in the bond strain. Sam bit his lip and glanced between Dean and the room below him. "Guess it's up to me then," he said. He pulled his bag over his shoulder, yanked out the rope and a picture of the ring that he was looking for.
He held the end of the rope up to Dean. "Hey, Dean, I need you to hold on to this real tightly for me, okay?" Dean's hands reached up to grab the rope. Sam nodded. "Good, man. Okay, now I'm going to lower myself down. When I tug on the rope twice, like this," he pulled on the rope to show Dean what he meant, "I need you to help pull me up. Can you do that for me, bro?" There was no reply, but Sam wasn't really expecting one.
Sam quietly and gently removed the vent cover and eased down to give the room a scan. Bobby had said there were two cameras in the room, but both pointed at the separate entrances, not expecting anyone to come through the ceiling. Dean had joked that whoever was in charge of the security for the building had obviously never watched any movie about a heist.
Seeing nobody in the room, Sam readied himself to go in. Originally this was supposed to be Dean's job, and Sam was supposed to remain in the vent to help Dean back up, but now the job of retrieving the ring fell to him. He gave the rope a firm tug, relieved that Dean maintained a strong grip. He lowered himself down the rope into the room, his heart pounding in his chest until his feet touched solid ground.
Sam looked around. He was surrounded on all sides by statues, sarcophagi, and shelves of boxes. The sheer amount of golden color made everything blend together. he sighed and crept towards the nearest set of shelves.
The relief he felt when he realized that everything was clearly labeled was huge. He scanned over the labels, pausing to look whenever he saw one saying ring, or even any type of jewelry. Finally, he found it. The Ring of Ammit. He picked it up gently, turning it in his hands as he compared it to the picture. This was it. Sam could feel the power of the ring vibrating through his body. He didn't know if it was because of the demon blood in him was reacting to it's proximity, or if it was just that powerful. Surely if it was that poignant someone would have realized before?
He put the ring carefully in his pocket and slipped back to the rope. It was still being held up. "Please be
back, Dean," he said to himself as he grabbed the rope and gave it two firm tugs. He felt the rope slowly being hauled up, and released a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. Sam pulled himself up, hand over hand, helping as much as he could. When he was within reach of the vent shaft, he latched onto the edges and dragged himself through the hole.
To his dismay, Dean was still impassive, his eyes fixed on nothing. His nose had stopped bleeding, which gave Sam a bit of relief. He reached forward and put his hand on his shoulder, "I got the ring Dean, we can go get Cas back now." Not even mentioning Cas drew Dean out, and Sam wanted to cry out his sorrow. Instead, he replaced the vent and squeezed past his unresponsive brother. "Follow me, Dean."
The two of them retraced their steps back to the empty room they had started in. "Okay Dean, you're going to go first. Lower yourself slowly down the rope and wait for me when you get down."
Dean did as he was directed, and Sam held onto the edges of the air vent and slowly eased himself down, dropping to the floor to land in a crouch. He straightened, and moved over to Dean, ducking his head slightly to look right into Dean's green eyes. "Hey, man. You able to come back yet?" Dean just blinked slowly, but otherwise showed no sign that he heard Sam. Sam sighed heavily. "Okay, Dean. It's okay. We'll figure this out when we get out of here. Come on."
Sam kept his hand on Dean's back and guided him to the door. Cracking it open slightly, he peeked up and down the hall. Noting the coast was clear, he grabbed Dean's hand and tugged him along behind him as he darted around the corner. They reached the door to the outside world, and Sam tugged it open and pushed Dean through before closing it gently behind him.
He had just taken a step towards his brother when he heard the cock of a gun and a shaky voice call out, "Stop where you are, or I'll shoot."
Sam's stomach flipped, and he slowly turned around. The sight that greeted him made him want to reach around his back and grab his own gun. An older security guard had his gun trained on Dean who was several feet away from where Sam stood, and his eyes were wildly flicking back and forth between the two brothers. The gun shook slightly in his hand, and Sam's heart stuttered when he saw the man's finger tighten on the trigger.
"Hands where I can see them," the guard said.
Sam slowly raised his hands, but Dean's remained at his sides. The guard gestured with his gun at Dean, and Sam's eyes widened. "Wait-," he said, and stepped towards his brother.
The sound of the gun going off was loud in Sam's ears, and for a split second he feared he was going to have to watch Dean die in front of him all over again, but then the pain hit, and he cried out in shock.
~*~*SPN~*~*
Dean blinked and came back to himself at the sound of pain from his brother. He gasped and whirled around. "Sammy?" He whispered. Then when he saw the blood pouring from his brother's shoulder his vision turned red, and he cried out louder, "Sammy!" He spun in the direction of the guard, who stared at them shocked, as if he could not believe he had actually shot someone.
Deans lip curled, and he whipped out his gun and charged the guard. The guard took a shaky step back and held up his gun in hands that trembled. Dean neared the guard and trained his gun. "You shot my brother, you asswad." He snarled. "Tell me why I shouldn't shoot you right back?"
"Dean!" Sam called out from behind him. "Dean, let him go, I'm fine!"
Dean didn't tear his eyes from the quaking man in front of him. "He shot you, Sam. You are not fine!" He snarled back.
"Dean, leave it. We need to go. We need to get Cas back, remember?"
The guard's radio crackled, and a nasally voice came through the speaker. "Joe, come in. We heard a shot fired from zone two, everything okay over there?"
Dean's finger tightened on the trigger. "Joe," he said calmly. "You're gonna tell them you got spooked by an animal. Then me and my brother over there," he jerked his thumb behind him, "are gonna leave so I can take care of the fucking hole you put in his shoulder, and you get to live another day, capiche?"
Joe nodded vigorously and did as he was told. When he lowered the radio, he looked over Dean's shoulder at Sam. "Uhh, look. I've never shot anyone before. The gun is just supposed to be part of the uniform, I never thought I'd have to use it." He swallowed heavily. "They're gonna send someone to check it out anyways. Get your brother out of here and get him taken care of. The last thing I want is some kid's death on my hands; nothing they have in there is worth that."
Dean lowered the gun but didn't put it away. He sized up Joe for a second then nodded before wheeling around and sprinting as fast as his still shaky muscles could carry him. He reached Sam, who had already ripped another strip from his shirt. Dean quickly tightened it around Sam's arm, before grabbing him by the good arm and hauling him in the direction they parked the Impala.
When they were a far enough distance away, Dean pulled them to a stop. "What the fuck, Sam? What happened? Did we get the ring? Are you okay?" He asked as he peeled the bloody bandage away from Sam's shoulder. "Shit. There's no exit wound. We gotta get somewhere safe and get this bullet out of you, Sammy. I'll put a new bandage on you when we get to the car. Let's get out of here, then I want to hear everything that happened."
Sam nodded, "Yeah, we got the ring, Dean," he whispered, then he paled as Dean tightened the blood soaked shirt back around the wound. They made it back to the Impala without further incident, and Dean opened the door to the passenger seat for Sam. Sam hesitated. "Uh, Dean?" he asked tentatively. "I'm not so sure you should be driving, man."
Dean looked at his brother incredulously. "'Scuse me? I'm not the one with a bullet in my shoulder, Sam!"
Sam chewed on his bottom lip. "Yeah, I know that. But Dean, man. You just went away back there. I mean, there was no warning!" At Dean's blank look, Sam continued. "When we were in the air vent. You just went down, and then it was like the lights were on but nobody was home! You'd follow instructions, but you wouldn't respond to me, nothing. What if it happens again while we're driving, Dean?" He shrugged. "Besides, it's not bleeding too bad. I won't pass out from blood loss if we stop soon."
Dean stared at Sam for a moment before looking away, tightening his jaw. Truth be told, the fact that he couldn't remember part of the evening scared the crap out of him. The guilt crashed down onto his shoulders in a heavy way as he realized he was probably responsible for Sam getting shot. "Did I-" his voice choked up and he cleared his throat. "Did I cause you to get shot Sam?" He asked quietly.
"It wasn't your fault, Dean."
Well that pretty much said it all. Wordlessly, he stepped over to the trunk and pulled out the med kit. He pulled out some bandages and some extra strength Tylenol. It wasn't the best, but if it could keep the edge off for Sam until they got to a motel, then it would have to do. He handed the keys to his brother and motioned for him to have a seat in the back. "Not letting you drive anywhere 'til I fix that shoulder up some," he grunted.
Sam smiled softly and allowed his brother to doctor up his shoulder the best he could. He took the pills from Dean's open palm and the bottle of water his brother held out for him.
"You drive until you get to the first motel you see. Then I'm getting that bullet out of you. And if you start to feel dizzy at all, you pull over and we'll figure something else out. Get Bobby to come get us or something." Dean glared at Sam until his brother nodded his acquiescence. He waited for Sam to gingerly settle himself in the driver's seat, then opened the passenger door and lowered himself down.
Dean knew Cas had reached out to him in there. He couldn't remember anything after that, but he knew he felt Cas. Now his head hurt even more, and spots continued to dance in his vision. It was probably a good thing Sam insisted on driving, bullet in the shoulder notwithstanding. Dean didn't trust himself not to crash the Impala into a tree and end up killing both himself and his brother. Then he'd never be able to help Cas.
They drove in silence for a few minutes, letting the roar of the car's engine soothe both of their nerves like she had always done. Dean felt a vibration in his pocket. He pulled out his cell and held it up, squinting at the screen. Bobby. Dean flipped it open and answered with a simple, "'Yeah."
"Dean. Trust you boys made it out of there okay?"
Dean glanced over at Sam, frowning at his pallor. But his brother's hands were steady on the wheel, and when Sam's eyes flashed over to meet his briefly, they were lucid and clear. "Well, sorta," he said into the phone after a brief pause. "We got the ring. But Sam got hurt." He swallowed heavily.
"Dean? What happened? He okay?" Bobby prompted.
"He will be. Can you meet us? We're just driving to a motel, I'll let you know which one when we get to it."
"Sure thing," replied Bobby. After a moment, he added, "You okay, kid?"
Dean scrubbed a hand down his face. "No," he admitted. "But I can finish this. I will finish this. I'll call ya soon, Bobby." He hung up the phone and sighed. "You okay Sam?"
"Well, I hurt," Sam said. "But I saw a sign for a motel. Should get there in about ten minutes. I can get us there."
Dean nodded.
Sure enough, a few minutes later Sam pulled the Impala into a nearly empty parking lot of a motel and pulled up to the office. Dean opened his door and got out. "I'll be right back, Sammy, just hang in there."
Sam nodded, but didn't say anything. Dean could tell the pain and blood loss was starting to get to him, and so he turned and quickly headed into the motel office.
The woman behind the desk looked up at him as he entered and beamed. "Well, hello there, sweetie!"
Inwardly, Dean grimaced, but he pasted a smile on his face anyways. Normally, he had no problem making nice with women, but right now he just wanted to get Sam into a room as quick as possible. "Evenin'," he said. "One room for the night please. Two beds."
He saw the woman peer over his shoulder towards the car, and her eyes lit up at the lack of another woman with him. It was all he could do to not roll his eyes at her as he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his credit card. Well, not Dean Winchester's, but he could be Todd Rycliff for tonight.
"Sure thing!" She said cheerily, and pulled out the form for him. She slid it over the counter to him, and leaned down, giving Dean an ample view of her chest. Once, Dean would've happily flirted back with her. But ever since he and Cas got together, he didn't even look at other people like that.
Without looking at her, or her cleavage, he pulled the form over and signed it before slapping his credit card down. "Extra towels, please." He ignored her huff of disappointment, and snagged the key and the towels she pulled out. "Thanks"
Dean turned and quickly strode out the door, hearing her mutter something rude under her breath. He didn't care. He only had two concerns. Sam, and Cas. One of those he could take care of now, and as the office door slammed shut behind him, he headed over to do just that.
