"I believe it to be a malevolent spirit."
"Let me get this straight, we're hunting a ghost?"
"Of sorts, yes."
"So you're a Ghostbuster now?"
"Pardon?"
The particularly proud smirk immediately turned into disbelief.
"You mean to tell me you've never seen Ghostbusters?"
Castiel hesitantly shook his head.
"Do you live under a rock or something?"
"I assure you, my living accommodations are customarily above ground. I do not see the relevance –"
"Dude, figure of speech."
"Oh."
"You don't get out much, do you?"
"I do not have much time for social outings, no."
"You poor bastard."
Pain and anger flared briefly in Castiel's chest, the insult unwarranted and unverifiable. Meeting Dean's eyes he softened, finding some form of pity and something warmer. He then dismissed the comment as something very 'Dean' and returned to the task at hand.
"The spirit seems to be attacking others who had harmed it in life; so far it has taken eight victims."
Castiel reached into the bag, producing a manila envelope and handing it to Dean. Leafing through it, the priest watched horror blossom into a frown on the winged man's features.
"These are all kids."
"I am aware of their ages, Dean."
"You mean this sick sonovabitch is hurting kids?"
"He was a child as well."
Moving the papers out of the way, he revealed their target to him. Dean's eyes had long since darkened, something painful lurking underneath the dark green surface. In hushed tones, Castiel continued.
"From what I have gathered, Leno was a lonely kid, troubled by bullying from his peers. Apparently his parents and the authorities dismissed his death as an accident, however –"
"How did he die?"
"He fell from the roof of his school."
Dean didn't say anything, his jaw clenching as the priest hesitated a moment before continuing.
"Yes. Again, the interviews I conducted were mostly hearsay, but what I have determined is that he had gone up there to escape the bullies and they had followed him. Things escalated; he was shoved a little too hard and then plummeted to his death."
"How could they think it was an accident? There had to have been witnesses –"
"Other children, Dean; they were either silenced or were not believed. It is not an uncommon occurrence."
Dean kept thinking about Sam, how he had been treated as a kid. This kid was much like him, so young and his eyes were already empty and sad looking; the idea that his life was taken from him at such an early age made Dean's stomach clench and burn with rage.
"How are we gonna do this? I don't exactly see a proton pack lying around and I don't know any exorcism crap."
"I…Your references are confusing, however you seem to be over complicating this task."
"What?"
"It is a simple salt and burn, nothing more need be done."
"A what?"
"A salt and – oh. My apologies, I forgot your ignorance on the matter. We must uncover his bones, lay salt upon them and then set them ablaze. It is the only way to banish his spirit from the realm of the living."
"Wait, you're saying we need to break into a cemetery, desecrate a grave and then disturb the remains? Isn't that breaking at least a few laws and against your religion?"
Castiel's expression appeared thoughtful for a moment; Dean wasn't sure if he should laugh or be weirded out.
"Yes and no."
Dean waited in vain for an explanation. As he began to shift awkwardly, he was starting to really wonder how this guy was a priest. Sure, he was weird, but this was getting ridiculous.
"You care to explain that?"
"It is against human laws, yes. However, I am protecting the innocent from otherwise malevolent supernatural beings. The God that I believe in would not damn a man for doing his work."
Dean didn't know what to say – no way to agree or disagree when he so blatantly didn't believe in anything supernatural at all. He turned away, not wanting to look at the faith filled man in front of him. He heard a gentle chuckle from the priest but chose to stay silent.
"Your wings make your stoicism…comical."
"Yeah, bite me."
"I was merely making an observation-"
"Well I didn't ask for your input, Rain man."
"Dean-"
"Just shut up."
Castiel didn't want to push the man, focusing instead on checking the salt rounds. Pulling out a gun and checking the magazine, he heard Dean's wings suddenly stop. Looking to him, he saw the terror in his eyes.
"You're packing heat?"
"I don't-"
"A gun."
"Oh. There are a few, actually. Are you trained?"
"Uh…"
"Perhaps an iron rod would be best for now."
"Since when do guns scare ghosts?"
"The instrument is not for intimidation – I have filled the magazine with salt rounds. They're completely harmless to us, I could shoot you and at worse you will be winded with a very tender bruise."
"Why salt?"
"If used, it can disperse the physical manifestation of the ghost, delaying them long enough to complete the ritual."
"Uh huh."
Castiel continue checking the guns while he listened to the nervous rustle of Dean's feathers brushing together. It was going to prove difficult to transport him in daylight until he learned to better control his wings. In the same thought, Castiel enjoyed being able to read the man so easily. Replacing the last of the guns, he pulled the bag over his shoulder and turned to Dean once more.
"I will load the weapons into my vehicle. After I change into something more appropriate we will depart."
"Okay."
Fifteen minutes later, Dean came face to face with his dream woman. Sure, she was a little scuffed up but she was beautiful. He watched Castiel, now clad in form fitting jeans and a plain white t-shirt, pat the hood of his 1967 Chevy Impala.
"This will be our means of transportation."
"She's beautiful. Do you get her checked up often?"
"Twice a year, if my jobs permit…she?"
Eyeing over the passenger seat warily, Dean nodded absentmindedly. This was not going to be fun and there was no way in Hell he was sitting in the back.
"Yeah, she…Y'know, cars and ships are always woman."
"Oh."
His first attempt into the car was a disaster, easing one wing in only to get it stuck in the driver's seat while he attempted to stuff the second wing down his side against the door. He watched Castiel attempting to hide his laughter, that sonovabitch. Attempt two was worse – backing up so he could have the joints pointing forward while the rest of the wings rested in the backseat. It wouldn't have been so bad if it wasn't for the seat belt. That and Dean looking like he had breasts – something Castiel could not stop laughing about. Finally, the priest interjected.
"Try pulling them forward so that you can put your arms on top. The bottom can rest under the dashboard and you can push your seat far enough back that it will not be painful."
"Really?"
"It could not hurt to try."
As it turned out, Castiel was a genius. It became readily apparent that this was not only the more comfortable alternative; it was a lot easier to get in and out of the car. Once both men were properly situated, a wry smirk still on the priest's lips, he started the car while Dean hummed at the sound of the engine purring to life. Sure, Cass was a complete ass and probably the strangest man he'd ever met, but the guy had taste. Dean watched Castiel smooth his hands over the steering wheel before murmuring something he only barely caught.
"I had been unaware of your gender, my dear. I apologize for that and any…unpleasantries you have endured from me thus far."
Dean chuckled. Yeah, he liked this guy more by the minute. They travelled in silence for about ten before it became stifling and Dean punched a button. He yelped, which he would never admit, when a woman's voice blared at him through the speakers.
This is a Gift
It comes with a price
Who is the lamb and
Who is the knife?
Dean quickly cranked down the volume before shooting his best 'what the fuck' face at the driver who sheepishly looked over before turning back to the road.
"Seriously?"
"The AM show is entertaining."
"You put this classy woman through talk shows?!"
Grumbling, he fiddled with the dial until he struck gold in the form of Led Zeppelin – Travelling Riverside Blues. The song was just beginning and he cranked it back to blaring.
"Oh, Hell yeah!"
Looking over at the bewildered expression on Castiel's face, he was grateful that he was not protesting and still dumbfounded.
"Oh, c'mon! You have to know this one."
"I do not believe I do."
"Dude, Led Zeppelin! They're classic."
"I'm sorry."
"C'mon, you've gotta know it. Sing it with me!"
"I don't-"
"See my baby, tell her, Tell her hurry home
Had no lovin', since my baby been gone
See my baby, Tell hurry on home
I ain't had, Lord, my right mind, Since my rider's been gone."
Dean's voice was pleasant despite the jovial nature of his singing; when the winged man gestured for him to continue he just looked at him a minute before turning back to the road, unsure of what to make of this development.
"Oh, c'mon! You didn't even try."
"I-"
"C'mon – live a little!"
Dean gave him a large toothy grin before he continued to sing.
"I'm goin' to Rosedale, Take my rider by side
Anybody argue with me, man, I'll keep them satisfied
Well, see my baby, tell her, Tell her the shape I'm in
Ain't had no lovin', Lord, since you know when."
He gestured once again to Castiel to continue, who just sat there for a little bit until he knew the part that was coming up. He mumbled through the spoken part with difficulty.
"I-I wonder if you know…what I'm talkin' about."
Dean's smile got impossibly bigger, nudging the priest to continue while they both laughed and belted the end of the song.
"She's a good rider
She's my kindhearted lady
I'm gonna take my rider by my side
I said her front teeth are lined with gold
She's gotta mortgage on my body, got a lien on my soul
She's my brown-skinned sugar plum..."
Sobering at the sight of the cemetery gates, he quietly pulled in and took a deep breath. The Lord's Prayer was running through his mind almost unconsciously as he prepared for the hunt ahead. 'Please let this be enough…'