Sorry, sorry, sorry for the delay! Thank you guys so much for the reviews, favorites, and the subscriptions - Oh my! They really make my day. Please be lenient with any misspellings or similar weirdness in the following chapter. I'd been putting off posting for too long. I've got the "it's not finished yet" disease. Compound that with being busy, and I'm lucky anything gets posted ever.
So again, thanks for the support.
You guys are damn sexy. Granted, I've never seen you... but I can tell by the way you type. Sexy, sexy readers.
Four hours of Dean pacing in the motel and fretting like a PTA mom whose kid didn't call after her girlscout meeting, and Castiel was starting to sigh audibly with irritation.
Castiel found said fretting rather bothersome, but he was as patient as his Angelic constitution would allow. He had a unique understanding of how much Sam meant to Dean, that stemmed from his unique understanding of Dean as a person. While Castiel did want to be able to use his mojo as Dean called it to locate Sam, the sigils on his ribcage kept him hidden even in this small town.
Dean had been out driving (a near-death experience in and of itself) looking for his brother. He'd been to the diner to subtly confront the less than diabolical looking Diner Girl and that had proved fruitless. He had been to every crack and corner of this little town - no Sam. In short, they had looked everywhere.
After Dean had yelled at Castiel, demanding roughly that he be useful, the angel had disappeared before Dean's eyes. There was a split-second after Castiel vanished with a puff of air from invisible wings, that Dean utterly panicked.
Dean had insulted the only person who would stand by him, who would put up with him while he went crazy over Sam, lashing out at everyone nearby. And for a fraction of a moment, Dean thought Cas hadn't gone looking for Sam, but had left altogether. Finally had it. In that moment of panic, Dean doubted Castiel. He doubted the angel would return.
But Castiel was as reliable as ever. He showed up mere minutes later, his face impassive, but the expression was forced. He spoke to Dean with that flat all-business tone to his voice that did the opposite of what its intent was, and shined a spotlight on his utter irritation.
He informed Dean that he had searched the entire town, and either Sam was making himself scarce or he was forcibly being hidden, as Castiel did not see him.
"Where the Hell did he go...?" Dean muttered, all but panicking, running a hand through his hair.
Sam snuck out from the shadows of the alley and around the corner, lip bruised, black eye blossoming, but otherwise no worse for wear. For such a big guy, he always had been good at disappearing.
After the punches he'd exchanged with a few of the rowdier locals, he knew the cops were looking for him. He couldn't say why he'd bothered rolling and scrapping on the street with these random guys, other than to say that he just wanted to. He was looking for a fight. For no reason in particular.
And not to hurt anyone.
Just to get it out of his system. Because suddenly, while he was sitting in his familiar little diner booth, the desire had struck him - base, and uncomplicated. And he had no reason not to fulfill that desire. Suddenly he couldn't think of a single damn reason good enough not to do anything he wanted.
A warm wave of relief washed over him, dripping down from the tip of his skull, rolling slowly down his spine like honey. And when it settled blissfully inside him, he finally just didn't give a crap. About anything. It was a welsome change of pace. He smiled at nothing in particular.
A little voice in his rational brain told him he was being poisoned. Hexed by Dionysus' great-great-great-grandchild. He eyed the straw in his cola suspiciously, knowing they'd both drank from it. That's probably how she did it, he thought calmly, with a nod. Then he shrugged and just kept drinking. Already hexed anyway. Waste not want not!
Sam was feeling loose and light and pleased with himself in no time. As much a slave to his whims as everyone else in this town - and loving it. He drank. He fought. He told everyone he saw exactly what he thought of them. He acted a lot like Dean... he laughed at the thought.
He'd been careful to hide from his brother and Castiel, knowing that as soon as they got their hands on him his fun would be over.
But there was still one more thing that he wanted. And he had to do something about it, now.
Sam skulked around the corner, staring into the diner from across the street.
There she was.
Pretty as ever. And as poisonous.
His legs carried him across the street with determination that could not be deterred by anything. He swung open the door and stalked through the restaurant and right up behind her.
She was just setting down some plates when she noticed her customers staring straight past her, looking at something behind her with questioning eyes. She turned, jumping to see Sam, very much encroaching on her personal space, towering over her.
"Oh!" she gave a surprised laugh, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear nervously. "It's you. What're you-"
Sam wrapped his arm around her waist pulling her hard against his body instantly; one hand on her face as he leaned down and kissed her with everything he had.
After a moment of shock, she kissed him back. With gusto.
But the chorus of giggles and awkward clearing of throats around the diner yanked Diner Girl from her romance novel moment and back into reality. She pulled away, blushing red and staring at Sam with wide eyes.
He stared back, in fact he seemed to be undressing her with his eyes. Very blatantly. It did nothing to subdue the burning flush of her cheeks.
"Um... ok..." she breathed shakily, shifting awkwardly as if he really could see her naked.
Sam didn't say anything at first. He simply continued staring at her, and she fidgeted under the his piercingly focused eyes. Even the voice of the short-order cook didn't snap him out of it. He was solely intent on taking in the sight of her.
"You ok?" the cook yelled to Diner Girl, glaring over at them suspiciously.
"Uh..." she surveyed Sam, visibly weighing her options. "Yeah," she finally answered, as if she wasn't quite sure. "Yeah, I'm alright. It's fine."
The cook didn't look convinced, he picked up the phone and disappeared back into the kitchen.
Sam leaned in to kiss her again, and the look of lazy surprise on his face when she put her hand to his chest and stopped him with a, "woah, woah, woah" was enough to get her eyebrow quirking.
"I shouldn't like you, but I do," he admitted with a low rasp.
"Thanks...?" she said, unsure, but blushing just the same. She decided to take it as a compliment. Her eyes darted around at the many patrons of the restaurant staring at them.
"You're pretty," he stated with an intoxicated smile. Her blush deepened. "And you're so smart. And funny..." He was running his hands through her hair and inching closer and closer and he could tell by her expression she was just shy of not having the fortitude to push him away. But he was swaying on his feet, like he was drunk. And his sentences weren't progressing past three words. It was pretty clear to everyone he wasn't in prime condition.
She almost swayed into his arms at the countless compliments, which sounded so sincere even through the haze - and then the thought seemed to strike her and she went ram-rod straight. "Oh no..." she looked at him with wide eyes, "it got you..."
Sam paused, leaning back to look at her in confusion. "I thought you were it..."
She quirked her head to the side, confused.
"Either you're a great liar, or... you're innocent," he smiled so big at her. He pulled her into his arms again even though she went a little stiff from the awkwardness, and she turned her face so he couldn't kiss her.
He looked at her in the eyes and said, deathly serious, "I really want you."
She stared back, and he saw something in her expression harden. She worked free from his hold and looked right back at him. Her words were dripping with sarcasm but Sam seemed to ignore it. "Wow... Classy."
The waitress was saved from any more bizarred advances from her gigantic and pushy (albeit handsome) suitor when the sheriff walked in. His stance was that of a usually serious man up to his ears in ridiculousness, and taking it one task at a time.
His eyes went straight to Sam.
"Ah," he said knowingly, letting his thumbs rest in his belt. "You, again," the cop addressed Sam casually. He didn't seem at all surprised to find Sam at the root of a disturbance of the peace. He'd been there to break up Sam's scuffles earlier, and had too many other things to worry about to bother with him and his minor shenanigans. But now, it was his third strike in under four hours.
Sam didn't seem surprised to see the sheriff either. "You again," he parroted.
"Alright, come on, Romeo," the cop motioned for Sam to go with him. The guy was clearly exhausted, and though Sam did want to stay with Diner Girl, he also didn't want to make a tired man's day any longer than it needed to be. Sam could tell he was a good guy - rough around the edges, but honest.
He waved goodbye dizzily at Diner Girl, smiling like a little kid leaving a playdate, and headed towards the cop's patrol car.
"Can I drive?"
Sam asked excitedly as the cop walked him to the vehicle. He was met with a resounding No.
"Why does no one let me drive?" Sam griped with frustration.