The room was nice enough, he supposed. That was to be expected, though, seeing as how it was on the third floor of the large mansion that acted as the cult's base of operations. There was a large glass door that led out to a balcony overlooking a dying cornfield, a big bed that looked to be straight out of a Harry Potter movie, and a little white bookshelf filled with books on different psychic abilities. On the bed lay a dark robe, Sam's outfit for the initiation ceremony.
Sighing, the hunter sat down on the bed and buried his head in his hands. Joining a cult was the last thing he wanted to do, something he'd never imagined he'd be agreeing to, but he didn't have a choice. Dean was in danger of… what? Dying? Was that even possible anymore?
He looked up and gazed around the room once more. There was a door leading into a small bathroom in one corner, and the door leading out into the winding hallway he'd had to walk down to get to the room. If Dean had been with him, he certainly would have made some stupid comment about kids on trikes zooming through the halls.
Sam shook his head. Angels, cults, initiation rituals. The week couldn't get any worse. He stood up and walked over to the bookcase, scanning the spines of the old, thick volumes. The cult had apparently been waiting for him. Every book was about precognition.
He pulled out one of the tomes and flipped it open, skimming the pages. He barely even noticed when the first pebble hit the glass door that led onto the balcony.
Sam put the book back and continued looking over the books. A few looked newer, but most were old. He turned back to the bed and the robe. Another pebble hit the window.
Curious, Sammy turned toward the large door. A number of small stones hit the glass and scattered across the balcony. Tentatively, the hunter took a step towards the door. He was about to pull it open and step out into the fresh air of Nebraskan dusk when a large rock came sailing through the air and punched a large hole through the glass, sending sharp shards clattering to the carpet.
Sam rushed out through the doors and nearly fell off the balcony trying to see who had thrown the stone. There was no one on the grass beside the house, and no sign that anyone had ever been there.
He leaned out over the balcony, scanning the ground and the side of the house, but didn't see anyone. Shrugging, Sam turned back to the door. He hadn't even taken a step toward his room when something dropped off of the roof and landed right in front of him. Startled, he jumped back, almost falling off the balcony again, as familiar laughter reached his ears.
"Man, Sammy, little nervous?" Dean asked, chuckling as his little brother's heartbeat slowed to a normal pace.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Sam demanded, trying to push past his brother, who was blocking the door, and getting a face full of feathers as Dean spread his wings to halt his brother.
"I'm getting you outta here, that's what."
"You need to leave," Sam muttered, spitting out a feather and finally moving past his brother and into the room, "it's not safe for you here."
"But it is for you? Sam, I talked to that Claire girl when she was fixing me up. This initiation thing, it's not just placing your hand on some stupid book and pledging allegiance to some unseen force. The demon actually shows up to these things, inducts people himself. Once you're in, you're in for life. Those freaky visions of yours'll get better, and you'll gain control, but you'll be even closer to that son of a bitch than you are now. I'm not gonna let that happen."
Sam shook his head. "She was lying. They're all evil, Dean. She's just trying to trick you into doing something stupid."
"Evil or not, I believe her. Now, you're coming with me."
"You want to get turned into a paperweight, don't you?"
Dean smirked. "Don't be stupid, man. Holly knows my head's too light to hold anything down. Lack of brain tissue and all."
"Just get out of here before they come to see what that crash was."
The angel stood firm, though. "No way. You keep saying they're gonna do something terrible, but you know they won't. They might be evil, but they're not twisted like that. Holly was bluffing."
"I don't want something to happen to you because of me," Sam said quietly, hanging his head.
"What are they gonna do, Sammy? Kill me?"
"They could torture you. I don't want to see that happen."
"And you won't, not as long as we just get out of here now. Like you said, it won't take long for them to come see what made that noise." He walked onto the balcony, still facing Sam. He hopped backwards onto the railing with a flap of his wings and held out a hand, smirking. "Do you trust me?"
Sammy just shook his head and smiled. Someday, he'd have to bring up the fact that Dean had just quoted 'Aladdin,' but now was not the time. He could hear footsteps outside the room, and turned just as the thick door from the hall was thrown open.
"What's going on in here?" Mark, the man who had shown Sam to his room, bellowed as he shouldered his way through the door.
"Nothing," Sam replied, hoping like hell that Dean had had the common sense to leave when the door had burst open, "really."
"I heard a crash."
Sam shrugged. "I, uh, tripped. I was just checking out one of those books and I guess I hit a snag in the carpet and fell. The book hit the window. Sorry 'bout that."
Mark nodded, a look of understanding passing over his strong, dark face. "Nervous? You shouldn't be. Everything's easier from here on out. Father makes sure of that."
"I'm sure he does," Sam nodded, glancing quickly toward the balcony behind him and finding no trace of his big brother, save one long, white feather that any large bird could have left.
Mark smiled. "Initiation's in ten, so get ready, man." He left the room, closing the door behind him.
Sammy practically collapsed on the bed, breathing a huge sigh of relief. He waited for Dean to return, but when five minutes had passed, he figured it was time to start getting ready. With luck, his guardian angel wouldn't try anything stupid… or deadly.