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Chapter 8

Castiel appeared in the mill. Instantly he felt something messing with his senses, and his abilities in general. He walked down the hall, attempting to follow the energy to its source. It occurred to him that if he was going to deal with something this potent, he really should have allowed himself more time to gather his strength. Still, it was too late now. He would not be able to return for thirty minutes, unless he wanted to walk, and he might as well use the time effectively.

He could feel his head spinning as he walked into the room where Dean had found his brother. Then he saw why. The entire room was covered in symbols, symbols meant to block an angel's abilities, and particularly, keep any angels from sensing anyone in the room. No wonder his head hurt. It was an ingenious plan, clearly the people had known what to look for dealing with the Winchesters. Any angels coming to Dean's aid would be unable to sense Sam to find him, and if, by some miracle, they did find him, they would have no special abilities to bring to bear against the hunters. Dean couldn't have noticed the symbols because they were in vale ink. He decided to leave immediately. Whoever these people were, they were not to be trifled with, and he did not want to encounter them in his current state.

"Hello, Dean." Dean jerked in shock, spilling his coffee on himself as he heard an unexpected voice five inches from his shoulder, "DAMMIT, CAS!" He yelled, before standing up and turning around, to find himself almost nose to nose with the angel, "Personal space, do you mind?"

"Apologies," Cas spoke before collapsing. Dean caught him and eased him back into the chair, "What happened? I thought you said you'd need thirty minutes to recharge. It's only been fifteen."

"... Which explains my current predicament. I left rather quickly. Dean, these are no ordinary hunters. The entire building was warded. I've never seen anything like it."

"But you could go in."

"Yes. The warding was not to prevent entry, it was to shield those inside from being sensed, and to block the abilities of any angels that entered. Even if I had responded promptly to your call, it would have done no good. I could not have found your brother, nor could I have rescued him."

"Why couldn't I see the symbols? How could I have missed something like that?"

"Do not blame yourself. They were done in vale ink. These hunters would not appear so poorly informed as we supposed."

Dean started pacing, "Son of a bitch. Well, what do we do now?"

"I would recommend we lie low, and gather as much information about them as possible. Perhaps one of Bobby's friends would know something."

Dean sighed and nodded, "Sounds good. Not like Sam is going anywhere anyway."

"I would imagine not."

Bobby's friends, as it turned out, did not know anything. A few had heard of Greg and Tamara, but none had information on their location. Sam got out of the hospital a couple of weeks later. Cas, still recovering from his fight with Raphael's angels, went back with Bobby, planning to help him do research on Gabriel and the two hunters.

Sam and Dean, meanwhile, hit the road. Sam had found a job a few states away, and they were both looking forward to getting back to normal. Dean estimated they could be there in four days to a week, depending on how fast he wanted to drive, and how much sleep he was willing to sacrifice. None, at the moment, especially as Sam had turned extremely irritable.

"This isn't the turn, Dean!"

"Yeah it is."

"It's not! Honestly, why do you always have to- It's not!"

Dean gave him an odd look, "You feeling all right?"

"Of course I'm feeling all right! Why do you always ask me that?!"

"Woah, okay. Touchy."

"I'm not touchy!"

"Right, 'Couse that's why you're acting like such a little bitch."

"And I'm not a bitch! Seriously, why don't you just shut up for once in your damn life?!"

"Me shut up?"

"Yeah, you."

"Right. Okay. Um, how about some music." He turned on I Love Rock and Roll by Joan Jett.

Sam changed the radio, "We are NOT listening to that again." He flipped through, finally settling on Viva la Vida by Coldplay.

Dean stared at him in shock, "What are you doing?"

"I'm changing the radio. I'm sick and tired of listening to your crap, Dean. I wanna listen to something good for a change."

"This? Good? This is girl music, Sam. Oh wait-"

Sam sighed loudly, "And that's another thing. Could you quit with the girl jokes already? It's getting really old."

The elder Winchester stared back at the road, "Right, not a bitch."

"DEAN!"

Things had not improved when they arrived at a motel.

"You know, we could have made it a lot farther if you hadn't taken that turn back there."

Dean looked incredulous, "Oh, so now it's my fault?"

"You're the one driving so I'd say yeah, I think it's your fault!"

Dean yelled back at him, "You know what, what's with you lately? You're acting weird."

"Maybe I'm just sick of listening to you say dumb things!"

"No! It's not that! This isn't like you, Sam. Now just tell me what the hell is going on!"

Sam paused, standing awkwardly for a moment before saying at a normal volume, "Nothing. I'm fine." He started crying as Dean stared at him confusedly, "It's just, everything's going so badly, you know? And I don't understand… why everyone's picking on me." He grabbed onto Dean, burying his head in his brother's chest as he hugged him, "Why does everyone hate me?"

Dean stood for a moment in shock, before awkwardly patting Sam's back, "No one hates you. It's… okay."

"No! No it's not! I don't know what to do," He looked up at Dean, "You don't hate me, do you?"

"Um, no. I don't hate you. Look, um, how about you go to bed? Maybe things will look better in the morning." At long last, Sam released him, then wandered off toward the bedroom, still sobbing quietly. Dean stared after him. What the hell was wrong with Sam? The question kept him awake long into the night.

Dean was jolted awake the next morning by an unearthly shriek. Instantly awake, he grabbed the knife from under his pillow and jumped up, attempting to locate the source of the scream. The bathroom.

He banged desperately on the door, "Sam! Sammy! You okay in there?"

An incredibly freaked-out, wavering voice emanated from the bathroom, "Yeah. Yeah. I'm fine."

"You sure? 'Cause it sure didn't sound like it from here."

"Um, I think so? I'll be out in a minute."

"All right. Just tell me if you need anything."

"Yeah. I'll do that."

Sam came out a short time later.

"Why are you walking like that?"

Sam looked at him innocently, "Walking like what?"

"Like you got something in your pants, or something. What-"

Sam interrupted him, "Listen, I'm taking the car. I need some things from the store. I'll be back soon." He grabbed the keys and started out the door. Dean called after him, "Wait. What was that about my car?" Dean heard the door of the Impala slam, and it was gone before he could pursue further questions.

"…Yeah, Bobby, he just started acting really weird… Like 'major mood swings' weird...No there aren't any hex bags!...There aren't, trust me, I checked…I don't know. It seems like every time we get something under control lately something else just gets dumped on top of it, you know what I'm saying?" The motel door started to open, "I'll call you back, Bobby." Sam walked in, laden with groceries. He set them down on the motel floor with a loud thump. Dean stared, "You get enouph stuff?"

Sam shot him a bitchface, "Everything in these bags is entirely necessary." He went to close the door. Dean glanced in a bag, "Really. You need ice cream?"

Sam shrugged, "I really wanted some."

"And The Notebook? Seriously? Talk about a chick-flick, dude."

"Shut up! It's a wonderful love story, about courage, and sacrifice, and…and the healing power of love that transcends time." Sam sounded strangely emotional.

Dean stared at him, "It's a movie." He sighed, "Whatever man, just, I'm not watching it with you."

Sam sounded annoyed again, "No one said you had to. Wait, no. No. Don't go near that bag!" He tried to snatch it out of Dean's hands. Dean held it out of reach, (wow, Sam being only 5'10'' really had its advantages) and pulled the package from inside. He laughed as Sam groaned, "Well, this explains a lot. Wow, dude, Gabriel really did a number on you, didn't he."

Sam grabbed it, "If you say another word-"

Dean held up his hands in a conciliatory gesture, "Cross my heart. Hey, you know what they say, never argue with a girl on her period."

Sam stomped toward the bathroom, "You are such a frigging JERK!"

Dean laughed, "Right back atcha, bitch.