Title: Under the Influence of Djinn
Chapter: Twelve
Summary: AU: The Djinn siblings created a terrible detailed nightmare for Dean out of revenge, nearly killing him, Lisa, and Ben. With Sam alive, Castiel missing, and Campbell cousins in tow, he tries to pull himself back together.
Rating: T
Disclaimer: Supernatural was created by Eric Kripke. No disrespect in intended with this work of fan fiction.

Escaped. Samandriel could barely contain a grin as he waited for everyone to arrive for a meeting. When everyone was present, he stood before them. "I have news." Samandriel looked at the gathering of angels, all allies of Castiel's and a few who now professed interest in the cause.

"Don't keep us in suspense," Rachel drawled. She'd begun her search for Dean Winchester and had covered the Eastern third of the United States so far. Her search was slow going. Finding one person out of the entire population of the United States was no easy task even for an angel.

"Castiel has escaped Raphael's guards. They can't find him."

A muted cheer went up among them, loud enough to convey their joy in that news, yet not enough so that it'd be noticed by Naomi and her staff.

Naomi hadn't been happy with the news, though not as displeased as Raphael. At least Naomi wasn't out in heaven right now throwing tantrums like a human child. She was holed up in her office with some of her close staff making new plans. In Samandriel's opinion, it was critical that Rachel find and hide Dean before Naomi found him and tagged him. Or Raphael thought to.

"He needs us. He'll definitely need us when Raphael finds him. We need to gather more angels, find out who will support Castiel in light of his continued resistance to Raphael."

"How do you propose we do that?" Inias leaned forward in his chair.

"Tell them all that even powerless he's fighting." A low murmur began in the group and he let that sink in before continuing. "He's lost everything and still he resists Raphael's tyranny. Should we continue to stand by and do anything less?"

Noelle, one of the first to support Castiel, raised her hand. "This is a radical idea I know, but…we could contact the Lost Brethren. They're a resource we can't ignore."

The Lost Brethren were a touchy subject to many. They were angels who'd fled heaven when Lucifer and Michael had fallen into the cage together, a full garrison of angels that had turned their back on heaven. They ignored orders to return, killed those who tried to bring them back, and seemed determined to live on earth as if they were human. In interactions they'd claimed to want to be left alone. They'd leave heaven alone if heaven would leave them alone.

They were a thorn in Raphael's side. She had coined the term 'Lost Brethren' for them, an implication that they were gone forever. They, however, called themselves Gabriel's Garrison, in honor of Gabriel's sacrifice and death. As Raphael had no idea which angels had joined Gabriel's Garrison, they didn't get their powers removed like Castiel had. Raphael hadn't bothered to take names when killing Castiel's followers and because of that, this garrison was a problem. She'd shot herself in the foot by not recording deaths. Few of their names were generally known and Samandriel wasn't entirely sure they didn't have a spy up here in heaven somewhere.

It wouldn't surprise him. Everyone had spies anymore. Zachariah had begun that trend with Michael's blessing and it had grown out of control.

What did Naomi think of Gabriel's Garrison? She'd never said anything to anyone about them, merely making noncommittal noises when they were mentioned. She acted like they weren't even worth her time. Maybe they weren't, but they were potential allies, angels who didn't like what Raphael was doing. If Castiel's remaining allies could utilize them, then they should.

"Good idea, Noelle."

"One of us should leave here and contact them, work on them, try to get them to join us. They say they honor Gabriel and I think we can relate what Gabriel did to Castiel's actions. I think we have a chance of making them allies."

"Are you volunteering?"

For a second, she seemed uncertain, then her back straightened and she nodded. "Yes. I know a couple of them. I volunteer to approach them and attempt to work out an agreement."

Did she now? Perhaps his idea that they had a spy in heaven wasn't far-fetched. "Do you know where they are?"

"I know where Nia is. She's rumored to be their leader right now, since Azariel was killed."

Azariel had been one of Castiel's friends and had only recently been killed. One angel Raphael had known about and actively hunted down.

He looked at the rest of them, most in vessels, a couple in their natural forms. They were looking at him like he was leading them, when all he was doing was trying to get the resistance back off the ground so that Castiel would have support when he needed it. "Do it. Report back if you can."

Noelle was gone in less than a second and he dismissed the clandestine meeting with a reminder to Rachel to hurry in her search.

"You think dragons are real?"

Sam stirred his salad and suppressed a sigh. Dean was like a dog with a bone with the Djinn dream stuff, worrying it about and trying to figure out what was real out of the little details. Sam would have wanted to forget it and move on, but not Dean. He was pulling it apart and driving Sam nuts in the process. "You mean big, scaly, mythological dragons?"

"The kind that hoard gold and like virgins for an afternoon snack." Dean ate a slice of pizza. It was his fifth. He was working his way through the kinds on the buffet and Sam reflected that it was nice to see him getting his appetite back.

Mark was back at the motel trying to recover from having been thrown against a wall several times, Gwen was off in her own room taking a long bubble bath to relax (or so she'd claimed), and Christian was still going through the line, having come in after Dean and Sam had started eating. They still weren't sure exactly what it was they'd been hunting except that it had a definite aversion to being caught and killed. The creature had fled and Sam had added the basic details of the case to a notebook with a reminder to himself to study more on it later. Bobby was too busy right now to help them on this, so they'd have to do their own research.

"I have no idea, Dean."

"Me either. Be cool though, wouldn't it? Finding a stash of their gold? I looked up the doctor, too." He sucked a long drink of soda through his straw.

"The doctor?"

"Yeah, she's not real. No Eleanor Visnak anywhere. At least nothing on Google or anywhere else I checked. I did find a Dr. Visnak, only it's a 'he' and has nothing to do with dragons. The title appears to be honorary, too. Bobby doesn't know the guy or any doctor that's into dragons or has a sword in a stone in the basement."

Sword in a stone? Did he want to know the details? No, Sam decided. The details didn't matter because it was a dream, but no matter how many times Sam told him none of it was real, Dean persisted in thinking about it all. He persisted in acting like it had been real in some way. Sam ate a few bites of salad while Dean stuffed the last bit of pizza in his mouth. After swallowing, Sam wiped his mouth and said, "You asked Bobby about a made up person from your dream?"

"Sure. He doesn't think dragons are real, but he'll see what he can find."

Is that the project Bobby was working on? Dean's imaginary dragons? Sam swallowed his irritation at that. "Why do we need to know about dragons?"

"Why not? You got something against dragons?" Getting up, Dean headed back to the buffet line.

Sam stirred his salad again and stared out the window. Should he call Bobby and tell him to forget about looking into the dragons or let it go? It was sort of a waste of Bobby's time. He glanced at the line. Dean was piling slices of pizza on two plates and seemed almost happy.

Where did they go from here? There was always the war over hell to look into or the angelic dropouts. Should they try to track the creature they'd tried to kill here or go after something else? He wasn't really sure what to do. They needed to keep moving, keep doing something to solidify them all as some kind of team even if they decided to part ways. After months of having worked with Gwen, Christian, and Mark, Sam didn't want to go separate ways. He liked having more than Dean to count on. He liked them.

A plate was set down in front of him.

"Here. I got you some of that Hawaiian pizza crap you like." Dean returned to his chair, putting his own plate on the table.

"It's not crap."

"Pineapple doesn't belong on pizza. Meat belongs on pizza."

Christian pulled up a chair. "I've got to side with Dean on that one, Sam." He sprinkled red pepper flakes on his pizza. "What are we discussing, aside from pizza?"

"Monsters." Sam tried the pizza. He happened to like pineapple on his pizza and this place made a good Hawaiian pizza.

Since the cousins had had Dean's back the past two days, Dean was much more relaxed around them, though he still exchanged the occasional odd insult with Christian, who obliged in kind. The previous day, the two had been going back and forth about lists and who was or wasn't on a particular side, mentioning names, many of whom Sam didn't recognize. When he'd asked what they were doing, the two had clammed up and said they'd tell him later if it panned out.

At least it wasn't more of the Djinn stuff. He thought anyway. The way it was going however, he wouldn't be surprised to find it was Djinn stuff.

"What kind of monsters?" Next came the hot sauce. Christian poured it on with a liberal hand.

"The mythical kind," Sam told him.

"Dragons," Dean clarified.

"Huh. Be interesting if they were real. A pile of gold would be sweet."

With a smirk, Dean spread his arms, palms up. "I know, right?"

Sam shook his head and returned to eating his salad.

It wasn't hard to see Jo's exhaustion, but Castiel had learned not to comment on it. They'd been traveling non-stop for two days, moving from one method of travel to another. She hadn't allowed them to sit idle for more than a few minutes, determined to get as much distance as possible between them and that location in West Virginia.

His suggestion that she sleep on their journey had been met with a curl of her lip and a refusal, like she thought he couldn't keep watch. She'd gotten by with dozing every few hours. It reminded him of how Dean had been right before they'd put together the plan for Sam to say yes, yet he had no idea how to discover what was going on in her mind.

"This motel is much nicer than your last choice." Castiel set his bag on one bed, while Jo closed the curtains.

"That one had it's purpose. I don't think we were followed." She smothered a yawn.

"Me either. What do we do now?"

Sinking into one chair, she stretched her legs out and eased her boots off. "Beats me. I was more concerned with getting away from them than in anything long-term. Why don't you figure something out while I go take a bath?"

"If you like."

"I do."

He watched her get her toiletry kit and go into the bathroom with it, clothes, and the thick book she'd picked up at that last truck stop. How did he decide a direction for them? What would Dean do? How would Dean go about this?

After much consideration, Castiel counted the money Jo had given him before they'd fled and left the motel. He returned awhile later with a sack full of tabloids and major papers from around the country. Without a computer, this would have to do. Surely he could find something they could work on until they had a lead on Dean.

Occasionally, he'd sit silent and listen for the sound of Jo humming. She tended to sing or hum when in the bath or shower. Dean had sometimes sung as well, only he was always off-key. Jo had a nice singing voice.

When she left the bathroom, fully dressed, Jo was uninterested in his idea. She shrugged. "Whatever. Will you be okay for a few hours?"

"I've been okay the several times you've left me alone already. You're going out?" He peered at her, noticing that she was wearing makeup and had done something to her hair. He wasn't sure what, but it looked pretty. Should he say anything?

"Mm-hmm."

"I'll order a meal if I'm hungry." While Jo had given him a percentage scale for tipping, he'd already known the basics according to Sam ("These people work hard, so be as generous as you can.") and Dean ("Don't give them any reason to spit in your food or worse.").

"About that…." She pulled her boots on. He was relieved that the bath appeared to have revived her somewhat. "We're running low on funds, so if you can get by with what we've got in the way of snacks, I'd appreciate it. I'm going out for a few hours to drum up some money. We need to economize on cash."

"May I accompany you? I wish to observe your methods."

She reached for her jacket. "No offense, but no. You'll cramp my style. Maybe another time."

He considered her words and the ways money could be made quickly. While he didn't think one that came to mind was the case, and instinct told him to keep his mouth shut, he asked anyway. "Are you going to prostitute yourself?"

"Excuse me?" Her eyes went wide and she appeared shocked by his question. "Did you just ask -"

"I mean, you refuse my company and you're wearing makeup. It's a reasonable assumption that my presence, as male, would discourage the advances of…" He gulped at the angry light growing fast in her eyes. Perhaps he should have heeded his instinct not to ask. "I'm sorry. Never mind."

"I turned Dean down out of self-respect and you think I'd turn tricks?"

"Of course I don't think that," he soothed. Turn tricks? Tricks, tricks…. that meant illusions? Magicians? How was she connecting prostitution with magicians? He wasn't following her train of thought. "You're not a magician."

"I'm not…." She sighed. "Are you cracked in the head?"

Raising a hand, he touched the back of his head. "I don't believe so. I have no skull fracture. I'd be bleeding if I did."

"I mean, when Raphael was doing her thing, did she scramble your brain?"

His confusion deepened. "Brains aren't eggs. They don't scramble."

"You need to stop thinking so literally. Please?" She tapped a finger to his chest. "Stay here. Try not to get into any trouble. I'll be back in a few hours and no, for your information, I'm not going to have sex for money. I'm going to win a few games of pool and maybe work a poker game if I can find a drunk enough crowd. Also, I usually put a face on when I go out. It's a Harvelle rule mom instituted."

Castiel didn't want her to leave mad at him, so he caught her hand before she could step away. He held it in his and impulsively pressed a kiss to her knuckles. "I'm sorry. Will you forgive me, Jo?"

She tugged her hand free. "Sure, but don't assume something like that again. I do have morals, you know."

He stood at the open door and watched her go and it was only when she disappeared around the corner that he closed the door and started looking through the papers.

Dean's musings on monsters continued all day, eventually chasing away even Christian, who announced that he was going to check on Mark, then turn in early.

"Alpha monsters."

"What?" Sam rubbed the aching spot between his eyes and wondered if he should take something for his headache. Instead, he started up the laptop. With Mark out of commission, they all needed to take up the slack.

"If there's a mother of all monsters, wouldn't her kids be the alpha of their line? You know, alpha, as in first?"

"I know what alpha means."

"What do you think? Are there alpha monsters and what are they like?"

"I think you should start looking things up on your phone and let me work awhile."

"Where's the fun in that?"

Dean's good mood was growing, which was a good thing. Really, it was. However, it also meant his mischievous instincts were rising. If this kept up, they'd be in prank wars within a months or two. Not necessarily a bad thing. It was nice to see Dean doing better than he had when he'd woken.

"Maybe I will look a few things up. You know, it's too bad you killed the Djinn twins. We could have grilled them on what was and wasn't real in what they showed me."

"Does it matter what's real?"

He didn't answer, fiddling with his phone.

Sam worked, doing a few searches that usually netted one or two possible cases. He paused on one, reading and rereading the article. Some of the details were familiar and he felt a tiny flaring of hope.

"It matters, Sam." Dean's voice was low and he kept his face lowered. "Because if none of it is real, then Cas could be okay."

"He might be okay anyway. Take a look at this." Sam slid the laptop towards Dean and reached for his phone, sending out a quick text to the cousins.

"What is it?"

"Just read." He thought Dean would find it interesting.

"West Virginia. Motel room trashed, signs of devil worship on the walls and remaining window, body of a woman found right outside with odd burn marks on the ground around her." As he spoke, his voice slowed and Sam knew the exact moment it clicked for Dean, as he was suddenly alert, his eyes narrowing.

There were three pictures accompanying the article. The first was of a symbol on a wall, a symbol that would keep angels out. The second was of the banishing sigil. The final picture was of the burn marks, taken from the height of perhaps a balcony. If someone wasn't specifically looking for the impression of wings, they might not even see it.

The dead woman had been an angelic vessel.

It might not be Castiel who'd been there. Hell, with angels running around without a leash, it probably wasn't. It could be demons hiding out even. Whatever it was, it was the barest semblance of a lead and the first they'd seen.

Dean looked up from the screen. "Get everyone packed up. We're going to West Virginia."

"Already on it."

He slid the laptop back towards Sam. "It's probably not him."

"Probably," Sam agreed. "But just in case."

"Yeah." Dean nodded. "Just in case." He licked his lips and opened his mouth twice before saying, "If it's him and he's okay, why hasn't he contacted us? Sam, he has to know we're worried. He has to have gotten our messages…right? What could stop him from…."

It was eating at both of them that Cas was missing. Sam felt a burning need to know the truth of what had happened to him, whether he was dead or alive, and knew Dean felt that need even worse. With any luck, this was where they'd find proof that Castiel was still out there.