Assimilating foreign memories into your own is not a smooth process. As Castiel slept his mind struggled to incorporate the new information. In a surreal dream sense Castiel was graced with the twisted experience of living each and every moment he'd stolen. At times he felt Devron's fetid glee, or the feel of bloodied skin under his hand. In other memories he was detached, almost watching the images pass before him. A whirlwind of sounds, and colors blurred through his consciousness.
It was the sound of Dean's return that woke him from the hellish process. Cas shot up into a sitting position. Sweat dropped off his forehead, cooling in the gust of night air, as it flowed through the open door. An off balance and oblivious Dean grunted as he tried to kick off his boots.
Gently Castiel reached into Dean's mind and found it surprisingly sober. It was more fatigue that wore at his coordination. "How much did you drink?" The priest rasped out. Naturally Dean's mind thought over his night in a flash. Cas readily read it all. Apparently he didn't have as many drinks as the brunette he fucked. And he also didn't appreciate Cas questioning him.
"What are you? My mother?" He proceeded to ignore his temporary roommate and collapsed onto his squeaky twin.
Minutes trickled by in the eerily silent motel. Castiel remained sitting, now fully awake. Unconsciousness didn't hold the same appeal now. Intricate details involved in torture ate at his consciousness. Cas didn't commit the crime, but his heart didn't know the difference. In the spin of his mind, there is a brush of insight. A jewel of knowledge. During a session with John there was a visitor. A woman. She was called Abaddon.
Castiel got the impression she was an enforcer, a body guard for Alistair. In the dark room he tried to focus on the words in that conversation specifically. It was difficult. At the time Devron was enjoying the sounds of anguish John was making. A unwanted dark sense of arousal wound through him every few moments. Castiel waged against the quagmire and slowly her words reached him.
Dean's breathing puffed out gently in the darkened room. Despite the relaxed appearance Cas could feel Dean's mind nearly humming with thoughts. It brushed against the priest, almost like hearing an indistinct voice in another room.
"I believe I have gleaned more insight," Castiel's hushed his voice in respect for the sanctity of the night. His naturally deep baritone rumbled about the room, like a lazy beast growling.
There was no verbal response, but Dean's breath did quicken to an attentive pace.
"Abaddon," Castiel tasted the name on his lips. "She's something of a guard for Alistair. I am under the impression that she often completes tasks for him."
The silence was somewhat tense after his words. "I do not know where she is now," Castiel said unhappily.
An upset, yet amused huff escaped Dean, "Then what good does this do us?"
"She's important. Abaddon may be our way to reach Alistair," Castiel didn't let the negativity affect him. He would use any method he needed to figure out what this cult was really doing.
Dean grunted in reply. Not able to articulate a response that's worth the effort. Neither man slept much that night. The morning bird songs had begun as they finally passed into slumber. One plagued by guilt. The other haunted by the echoes of a dead man.
Sam stood at the foot of the beds. He was graced with the sight of his brother and their new companion passed out. Dean had tense lines across his forehead. He was sleeping on top of his sheets, fully dressed, and his arms crossed. If anyone else was looking on they would think Dean was awake, and merely had his eyes closed. Sam knew his brother was out cold though. There's always the tiniest patch of drool in the corner of his mouth when he was.
With a smirk he looked over to Castiel. The priest was in disarray. Half of his suit was still on, and sheets were horribly tangled. A patch of sunlight made his forehead glimmer. Sweat was slicked against his skin. Castiel's expression was of his usual confusion. That surprised Sam. He'd imagined the priest would look peaceful in slumber.
Sam stood there, torn. He wanted to both seek revenge and scare his brother awake. At the same time Cas has been nothing but great and didn't deserve to be punished.
Anna made the decision by entering the space and loudly asking Sam, "I feel like coffee, what about you Sam?"
Dean woke somewhat gently. He saw his brother above him and immediately assumed the younger Winchester was in the process of pulling some kind of prank. Dean rolled away from his brother and looked around suspiciously. "What time is it?" He gruffly asked.
"Late, about 9," Anna answered. "We need to get moving today. Afterall, we did kill that man. Probably shouldn't stick around too long." She pulled out a phone and checked her messages before impatiently returning it to her pocket. She then dropped a large plastic bag on the small motel table.
Castiel didn't engage anyone as he excused himself to the bathroom to clean up. Without prompting Anna produced take out boxes from the bag and began to re-heat the breakfast left overs. Clearly her and Sam have been awake for a while and had already eaten. Anna tinkered about, making some coffee for everyone.
It wasn't long before everyone was clean, dressed and discussing the issues at hand. Sammy had a laptop out and was trying to look for any sort of trail they could follow. "Look here," Sam pointed to the screen, drawing Dean's attention, "There's been 4 murders in Westbrooke."
"Yeah so?" Dean mumbled around the edge of the cheap mug.
"Well, the police report is almost empty. Barely any detective work was done. It's almost like the cops were ignoring the crime. Looking the other way. And.." Sam clicked about the keys for a second, before a black and white image from some newspaper popped up, "Look, two of the victims clearly were branded by the cult."
"And the others?" Anna asked, interested in this new discovery.
"Can't get a good photo. But I'm willing to bet that if we go there, we'll find some cult activity. Maybe we can get more information. I mean, it's not like we have much to go on right now."
"Abaddon," The single word cut through the conversation.
Castiel idly chewed at a piece of waffle. He was struck by the sweet and sticky syrup that coated his tongue. Without looking up he continued to address the room, instinctively knowing everyone's focus was trained on him, "A woman named Abaddon addressed Devron regarding the security of the building they were in. It was about 2 miles outside Westbrooke, to the East."
Confounded pleasure flashed behind blue eyes, as Castiel snatched a strawberry off of Dean's plate rudely and quickly ate it before elaborating, "She appears to be in Alistair's implicit trust. She is also mobile. Not hidden amongst the shadows. I believe attempting to capture Abaddon is our best course of action."
"So where do we start?" Anna easily accepted the idea. Most probably due to the lack of other options.
"Westbrooke," Sam answers, "I can feel it, there's something there."
"Alright, how far away is it?" Dean grunted lightly as he stood and moved to peer over his brother's shoulder.
Dean, as driver, decided on his choice of music. Led Zeppelin tore from the speakers. The foreign sounds assailed Castiel's ears.
6 hours. They need to travel for 6 hours. That means Dean's music would echo for 6 hours. Each person tried their best to adjust to the uncomfortable trip. Sam researches anything he can on the cult via his laptop. Apparently he's managed some sort of technical wizardly, and used his phone to get internet. The younger man would inter-space his silent searches with conversation about the random shit he discovers. Which is nothing overly promising.
Cas occupies himself with looking out the window. Idle mind drifting between meditation and ambled thought. Anna sat beside her brother in the back seat, and tried to leisurely entertain herself. He could feel energy shift and mix around her. She conjured a small flame and made it bend and flow. She changes it's strength and colour. Once satisfied with her private performance, she slowly smoked and reappeared, controlling the speed. After a few attempts it became apparent she is attempting to hover between the two forms. Find the balance between solid and gaseous.
After driving for a while Dean laughs at her, "Show off."
"Nothing else to do," She replies with a small smile.
With surprise Cas realized that his sister was thoroughly enjoying herself. There is a pure happiness in her dark power. He was curious about how that could be. Subconsciously he reached out into her mind. Anna didn't notice the invasion, and Castiel drew on her peace. Seeing no repercussion to his action, Cas decided against the old social nicety and spends his time actively monitoring his other friends. He'd only decided that very morning that these people were indeed his friends.
'And your first action is to invade their privacy.' The little voice of conscious whispered to him, feebly. Ignoring it the priest delved into Sam. He found that Sam was calculating and imaginative in his own mind. References and images that Castiel couldn't understand floated about. It was almost like Sam could have a whole conversation with himself. Something of an instinct said he's had to before. Sam was debating subjects from numerous perspectives. Occasionally, he observed, bits of fantasy would inject itself, and amuse the man.
Innocence prevailed in Sam's domain. For now. Castiel felt dark recesses that edged the Winchester's thoughts. There was something there. Something Castiel didn't fully understand yet.
With that disturbing concern, he decided to move on to Dean. From the moment he re-connected to Dean, strange pleasure filled both their minds. Dean was actually happy. The kind of welling emotions that almost seemed impossible only 24 hours ago. Gently Cas tried to figure out why. Dean's focus was on the smooth steering wheel under his hands. The music filtering through his thoughts changing the colour of his mood. Castiel asked himself 'Why are you so happy?'
Dean responded to the question with a smile. He didn't seem to realized the thought wasn't his own.
Castiel saw, physically and mentally, as Dean glanced at Sam. Sam was alive and well. A part of his mind was soothed with that knowledge. Anna, he didn't look at her instead aligning thoughts of her, has grown into something amazing. Healthy now after all the difficulties she's faced. That made him feel protective and content. Dean then thought of the open road stretched out before them. His thoughts drifted a bit, entertaining more abstract ideas of change and progress. The idea of moving forward in his life.
Castiel realized Dean hadn't thought of the priest. He sent out another message; adding it gently so Dean wouldn't suspect it's source, 'What about Cas?'
It worked. Dean looked directly at Cas, who met his eyes readily. Something changed in Dean's mind, the happiness flared for an instant before Dean smothered it. At that same moment he looked away, back to the road. Dean berated himself mentally for getting distracted from the road by 'that blue fire.' Cas reveled the way Dean referred to him. It gave the impression that the man had respect for Cas. That had an impact on the priest. Even still, his friend had smothered any pleasure that Cas's presence may have given him.
The blue eyed man kept his steady composure. His initial guilt now fully replaced by curiosity. 'Why was Dean trying not to enjoy his company?'
Castiel realized his mistake too late. The question accidentally floated into Dean's mind. Cas grasped at it; the telepathic tether slipping through his control. This time Dean recognized it was foreign. He didn't talk like that. Wouldn't refer to himself in the third person.
Seemingly out of nowhere Dean snaps out, "Cas! Get out of my head!"
Anna lost focus and her newly conjured flame flared, singing a few of her hairs. Alien amusement bombarded Dean's mind suddenly. All three passengers pushed their thoughts against his, purely to annoy the man.
"Cut it out!" Dean growled and vividly imagined driving the car into a tree with himself as the only survivor. Sam laughed and withdrew. Anna smirked and said, "You'd never do that to your baby," As she also retreated.
Cas remained, not trying to hide himself this time. He asked Dean again 'Why don't you like me? Have I offended you?' Cas sensed the shift in Dean's mind again, before he was shoved roughly out.
"Cas, if you keep that up I'm gonna beat the crap out of you." Castiel felt the mental equivalent of a door slamming in Dean's head. The priest's gaze met green in the rear view mirror. Though his face was blank his blue gaze held an amusement that frustrated Dean. To distract himself, the aggravated driver turned up the music.
Castiel heard a brief message from Anna drift across his mind, 'Be nice.' Her tone was teasing more than scolding. 'What were you bothering him about?' She pried.
'He's actively trying not to enjoy my company. I asked him why.' Something about his statement engaged his sister causing her to laughed aloud. The sound was drowned out by the Rolling Stones.
'Castiel. You really don't have any social graces.' Again it was with a teasing tone rather than chastising.
That was indeed a fact he couldn't disagree with.
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Season 8 ended. Now I'm a sad puppy. Hopefully this fiction can keep me strong until 9 picks up. Please review.