Notes: G damn...these last two chapters were super long...longest ones so far it seems. Could have totally split them up into three or four chapters, but I'm not that cruel.
leahelisabeth: Damn straight! She lost her chance long ago! XD
Disclaimer: I own nothing as I am a slave to my own imagination...wait, that was pretty deep. I wish I could claim that.
CHAPTER 13
It took the whole walk up to the control room for Sam to get his hair back into some sort of controlled chaos before he met up with Gabriel. He just knew that the pilot would probably wet himself if he got a glance at the wind-swept hair that Sam was sporting not five minutes ago. Hopefully Chuck's magnificent display of gust induced fro and friz would be enough to entertain the playful pilot.
Still, as he ducked his head to avoid hitting the doorframe on his entrance to the room, instead of seeing Gabriel's face turn purple with laughter, he saw pale features as Gabriel got up from his seat and moved up to embrace Sam tightly.
The pilot himself was surprised at his actions as he felt Sam's arms circle around him after a beat. It wasn't even the most dangerous situation that Sam had been put in and here he was trembling like a leaf.
"Gabe? You okay?" Sam asked after a moment.
The pilot nodded into Sam's shirt and looked up, his eyes suspiciously bright, "Yeah, I'm fine…can you watch the controls for a few minutes? With the whole rush I never got a chance to fix up Meg," he choked out a fake laugh, but Sam could see something hidden in the pilot's eyes.
"Sure, uh. Go ahead…"
Bobby and Chuck entered the room just as Gabriel left, all of them awkwardly sucking in their stomachs so that they wouldn't get wedged in the doorframe. The preacher and mechanic both turned to the younger Winchester with questioning eyes as they each noticed the odd glint in the pilot's eyes as he brushed past.
Sam shrugged and moved over to the flight stick and took a seat, "Bobby, can you check the radar for me? See if we've got anyone on our tails."
The preacher moved over to the screen and peered over it, "Don't look like it. Must be in the clear, so let's turn this boat around. The bin'll be dumped by now. Let's get there before anyone else does," he advised.
Sam nodded in agreement and pulled on the ship controls, only to frown when the ship wouldn't respond.
"Uh…I can't?"
Both Bobby and Chuck scrunched up their faces at the slight panic and confusion in the young man's voice, "What do you mean you can't? You do remember how to steer, right?" Bobby huffed, feeling the fingers of fear start to inch back over his heart.
"I mean, I can't…turn," he tried to pull harder at the controls, but there was no change, "I'm not getting any tug from the aft alternator…" he guessed and turned to Chuck, begging with his wide eyes that he provide an answer to the problem.
The mechanic started to breath heavy and ran a hand through his already mussed hair, "What? That doesn't make any sense…unless…" he looked up at them and the light dawned between the three of them.
Three voices rang out together, "Aw, shit."
Chuck dove straight for the engine, looking over all of the nuts and bolts like his life depended on it…which it probably did actually. He knew that to cause the problem that they were facing that the damage would be done…there. And it took only a second to see what was done.
He held up a stripped wire for all to see and it sent Bobby and Sam into a string of curses, Sam punching the wall nearest them, and Bobby rubbing the bridge of his nose, "Now I wonder who could have possibly done that," the preacher said sarcastically.
"Tah-shr suo-yo dee-yure duh biao-tze duh mah! I can't believe we fell for it all again! She was only gone from the kitchen for a few minutes!" Sam cursed. (Whores in hell) He should have expected this, hell they should have all expected this. And now Dean was somewhere off with Bela, probably about to get screwed if he hadn't already.
He only spared a moment to think of Cas, wondering why he hadn't done more to warn them this time around.
"I can fix it, but she must have put a timer on the motivator and wetwires the dampener with—"
Sam cut the mechanic off, "What does that mean, Chuck?" the bit out, now a bit freaked and impatient to find out what it meant for his brother and for them.
Chuck glanced around the room, quickly scanning for any other hidden surprises that might have been left behind. As it was, this wasn't life threatening, at least not to them, and they certainly weren't headed for another giant net of doom.
"If this is all I have to deal with, then we'll be fine, but it also means that we aren't going to make the rendezvous…"
Taking a moment to absorb the information, Sam nodded, "Fine. Just get this done fast. I'll go tell Gabriel that you could use some help," and he stormed out of the engine room, leaving Chuck to start tinkering and Bobby hovering nearby.
Balthazar had fallen asleep hours ago having finally given up on trying to get Castiel to play a game of friendly strip poker. He supposed that he would have tried harder to get a tournament going if there were more lovely people around. Somehow it just wasn't the same when it was just you and your little brother.
Castiel however, had simply remained seated calmly in the corner of the little ship, the window to the outdoor clear in his view.
But, once his older brother had given up and leaned back in one of the chairs and fallen into the calming embrace of sleep, Castiel slowly uncurled and he silently moved over to the computer cortex and opened up the message that he had been waiting for.
He smirked as he read it. This may have been a dumb plan from the start, but at least they knew that it was dumb going in.
He slowly got up from the computer and padded over to Balthazar, his bare feet making no sounds upon the paneled floor and raised to fingers to place them softly on his brother's brow.
It would be far easier to explain this all later. Until then, Balthazar could sleep.
He powered up the shuttle and set off. It was his turn.
"That dirty dirty whore…"
With a sigh that would have made Bobby proud, Dean turned his face up into the sky letting the sun beat down. He could feel the prickle of his skin as the burn bridged over his nose and brow. It would only be a few more minutes until the freckles he had hated so much as a child would come out to dot his features.
He smiled as he remembered that one morning he had woken up to Cas not even two inches away from his face, claiming that he had been waiting all night for Dean to wake up so that he could finish counting the freckles on the side of his face that was buried in the pillow.
Dean had a feeling, well he hoped anyway, that Cas would probably have to start all over again as the sun welcomed a whole new batch to his face.
Around him the wind blew, whipping up dust and sand around him. Of course he would have to be butt naked for this. It was going to take him ten showers to finally get the sand out from…well, everywhere.
He dug his feet further under the sand to find that cold layer that would sooth his burning soles.
"I hope Cas is good at healing sunburns…"
Just like they had planned, the dumpster had been dumped by the drone in another part of the vast wasteland of the dust island. And after dropping the pissed off Captain a hundred miles back, she had happily turned her new acquired shuttle to the coordinates.
Popping the lid off of the top, she peered down into the contents, and it looked just like any other dumpster should; full of smelly, rotting, slimy, grimy, and did she mention smelly trash. But to her, the smell of the fortune buried there was enough to let her jump in without a moments hesitation. It would only be a matter of time before the mechanic would fix her little surprise and head her way. So with an enthusiastic flourish, she tossed the first bag of rotten fruit out of her way and started to dig. The gun couldn't have gotten too far buried since it was the last stop that the dumpster visited.
Or so she thought.
Almost an hour later she had gotten to the point of ripping apart each bag and further searching through the sludge and grime, getting filth of unholy and unknown substances under her fingernails and seeping into her clothes, and she still couldn't find the gorramn gun.
"Blaerghch! Where the fuck is it!?" she screeched into the emptiness around her. She kicked the nearest bag in her furious frustration, sending moldy meat, ripe eggshells, and a whole host of sticky, wet rubbish ricocheting off the walls and of course coming back to splatter over her body, a little bit making it's way into her mouth.
She started cursing anew, spitting and gacking on whatever filmy residue had attached to her tongue.
"You really shouldn't play around in the trash. There are billions of bacteria crawling around in there just looking for a host like you."
Bela whipped around to see where the voice had come from, only to find the little crazy man sitting pretty and clean on the ledge of the dumpster, his face as blank as can be as he looked at her…The Mexican in his hands and pointed straight at her.
He looked at the trash around her feet, noting the torn bags and state of her clothes and frowned as if concerned, "Are you perhaps looking for something? I remember one time that Balthazar accidentally threw away one of Father's special collection pieces and had to dig through the trash for hours to—"
"You damn well know what I'm looking for, freak," she hissed, her eyes focused solely on the prize that Castiel held.
He looked surprised and started to inspect the weapon in his hand as if studying it for the first time, "You mean this? It's a lovely piece, isn't it? A lot of history behind it…I wonder if it works…"
Without waiting another beat, he aimed the laser gun at her head and fired once, but all that came from it were some whining noises and a fizzle of sparks at the nozzle. He looked disappointed and set it aside, "Ah-well, still worth a fortune I suppose…" and then he pulled up the pistol that Dean had slipped into the shuttle when he had stopped by to 'say goodbye', "This one works just fine though! Dean loaded it for me earlier," he told her proudly.
The odd timber of his voice, and the strange dreamy look in his eyes had set her on edge since the first time she had met the man so many months ago, and now it sent her whole body cold. There were just so many things about him that screamed unnatural to her. First, he has seen right through her the second that she arrived, and not just seen that she was lying, but what her plans were. Like he could read her mind or something. And then he had somehow survived the double dose of her drug. Worst of all, it was damn near impossible for her to read him, and that was her last defense.
This guy had haunted her in more ways than one.
"What are you even doing here?" she bit out, trying her best not to let her terror show on her face.
He looked to her and straightened up with a satisfied smirk, "I'm doing my part of the job," he stated proudly.
"What? What part of the job?"
"Oh, it was really interesting, you know. While you were stuffed in your little box, Dean and I came up with the idea to start a fight, make you think like you had won. I would put on this big act and storm away in a huff, then Dean sends me off, we all wait for you to doublecross Dean, then I get sent the coordinates and I beat you to the rendevouz spot and grab the goods before you can get it…did you not see it coming? I was quite afraid that I wouldn't be convincing," he got out all in one breath, a truly alarming feat that got Bela wondering once again what the hell this guy was.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" she snarled.
"Nope!" and he pulled out a remote and clicked the button while swinging his legs out of the dumpster as the lid closed on Bela, locking her in the aromatic pit in complete darkness, "Just putting the jack-ass back in it's box."
He hopped down from the top and started to walk back to the shuttle, The Mexican still clenched in his hands, only to stop and turn back. He knocked politely on the side paneling, the echoing bang clearly heard by Bela inside.
"Bela? This is Castiel speaking to you. I almost forgot to tell you that Dean also sent a message to the police of this planet with the coordinates. They should be arriving here soon for you, so please sit back and enjoy all that this paradise has to offer," and he walked off, the sounds of muffled screaming filling his ears and making him smile.
The world that Meg woke up to was…fuzzy, and bendy. To the best of her knowledge, Meg guessed that she was probably in the infirmary, and that she hadn't died up on the edge of the Impala after all.
Groggily she turned her head to her left where she could faintly hear the sounds of tinkering metal. What she could make out was the blurry outline of the juvenile pilot, fiddling with some surgical tools on a tray next to the bed.
She tried to force out a witty comment, but it came out a garbled, "Wah guwwunoh?"
The fiddling stopped and two molten gold eyes focused in on her, that she could make out clearly. Her whole body might have been numb, but she still felt the ice that froze in every vein at his look.
"What's going on is that you got a little shock," he stated calmly.
"Wrll, awren't you gonna phix me?"
He didn't answer right away, instead he glanced up and down her body, an odd glint in his expression that she didn't like much. Reminded her a bit too much of his baby brother, and of course that reminded her that it wasn't just Castiel that was messed around with. The pilot could be hiding a whole host of terrors that he hid under that happy go-lucky persona. She shivered.
"Tell me, Meg…Can you move your arms and legs?" he asked her calmly.
She frowned and looked down at her limbs and tried her best to flex…only she couldn't move anything below her neck. The ice moved to her heart that started to beat faster.
"Dah nod movin'!" she grunted, panic painting her features.
He nodded sagely, "And do you want to know why?" he asked with an eerie calm on his face, "Your spine. You hit it pretty hard when you fell."
"'pine?"
"Yes. So I used my mojo to knock out your motor functions for a little bit so you wouldn't wrench it when you came to. I'll put everything back in place soon enough, I just wanted to have a little chat with you first and I didn't want you scurrying away before we were done."
She braced herself as the pilot stood up from his stool and leaned casually over the bed, making sure that he met her eyes as he spoke, "I just wanted to know….how much they offered you when you tried to sell me and Castiel back on Ariel?"
He watched as the panic rose like the tide in her eyes as they widened, "Das crazy talk."
She thought that this was all past her, that she had dodged the bullet when she and Castiel had "talked" right after the heist. He had told her that it was over. Had the little brat gone crying to big brother after he had almost sent her out the airlock?
Gabriel leaned in even closer, his breath damningly hot on her face, "Then let's talk crazy. How much?"
Lolling her head to both sides, searching for the presence of someone else, anyone else who would pull her away from this lunatic, but no one was in sight. She resigned herself to look back at her captor.
"Oh, honey, I know you think that Cassy-bear told me about your little secret, but really I figured it out all by my self. Truth be said, I'm a little disappointed in myself for not seeing it sooner. I was a tad too distracted by the Host and feds to take notice in the hospital, and I was still high on the after affects of the escape to ponder on how the hell the Host had gotten the news so fast, but you know what it was that finally clued me in?"
He looked down at her and she swallowed hard.
"It was this whole Bela thing. I've been thinking, worrying, and sweating these last few days that Bela would somehow know about me and my brothers, that she would turn us in for a fortune of a reward that would make the gun look like she won the Sunday church raffle as opposed to the lottery,"
He started to twirl a lock of her brown hair between his fingers as he spoke, his eyes staring off into nothing, the whole scene playing out like a horror movie, "And of course, I started working out in my head what steps she would have to take, how things would play out for us…and her. And you know what I noticed? There were a lot of similarities between what I was thinking and what had happened to us a few weeks back. How about that, huh?"
His laugh echoed through the room and a cold sweat broke out over Meg's skin, making her clothes stick to her, "Then I thought back to what Cas had said during the heist, and how he has been acting ever since and…well, I've already told you that I'm pissed at myself for not seeing it sooner."
Meg was slowly starting to get some feeling back in her tongue, but it had never felt so dry before in her life, "So what? You gonna try to kill me too? Leave me paralyzed?" she gurgled at him.
He looked at her quizzically, as if considering her offer, "We're in a dangerous line of work, Meg. Odds are that you'll be needing either myself or Castiel to be healing you at some point. So I want you to understand one thing very clearly," he got down close to her again, "No matter what you do or say, or plot…no matter how you come down on us…" he pressed his fingers to Meg's forehead and she squeezed her eyes shut, fearful of what was to come.
"Neither of us will ever harm you while you are being healed by us. We're you're crew, we've go the same troubles, the same enemies, and more than enough of both of those. Now we could all circle around each other, growl, sleep with eyes open but that thought kind of tuckers me out. I think that out little adventure with the Host put the fear of God in you, so I'm gonna trust that I won't turn around to find a knife handle in my back, just like how Cassy had chosen to trust you for now. It's up to you whether you want to walk on eggshells around us," he finished, his fingers still pressed on her head, and then she felt the feeling slowly return to her limbs and her chest filled with much needed breath.
She watched as the pilot got up from the seat next to her and moved to leave, just as she was able to finally pick her head up from the table.
"That's it?" she asked him.
He turned and the goofy grin was back in place on his face, "Well, just keep in mind…Cassifras can kill you with his voice."
And he left her with that little reminder to ponder over until her legs weren't jelly anymore. She would need the time to think her life choices.
Gabriel exited the infirmary and was about to step up the stairs that would take him to the control room when he was stopped suddenly by a warm and familiar wall blocking his path. The pilot glanced up…and up until his eyes hesitantly met those of Sam's concerned ones.
"Gabe…what was that?"
"What was what?" he retorted innocently.
Sam didn't smile, "Why didn't you tell me? Better yet, why didn't you tell Dean? She betrayed us and you're not doing a thing about it?"
Gabriel sighed and gold met hazel, "I didn't tell you because I'm not about to upset the odd harmony that this ship seems to work on. And I'm pretty sure that's the same reason why Cas never said anything either. So just…drop it for now? Please? We keep her happy and we keep our home. Do you get that?" Gabriel asked him desperately.
"I get it…well, not really, but I'm going to trust you for now, but I'll be watching Meg," he cupped Gabriel's chin and held him still, locking his gaze, "I'm not going to say anything, but if she so much as flinches in the wrong direction, nothing is going to stop be from burning her. I'm not going to let her hurt you, or your brothers."
"Good, we're all on the same boat then," the pilot grinned.
"Yeah, about the boat…seems like we have a little problem…"
And that earlier part when they were all like "damn, she f*ed up our ship" my roommate was all like "Morons! That's why you never let the bitch out da kitchen!" jkjk she would have prob poisoned the food anyway XD
Next chapter is the last one for this episode! Please read the warnings in the next post, just in case.