Chapter 3

Dean's heart was hammering against his ribs as he and Sam traipsed through the woods looking for Cas. The blood trail was easy enough to follow once dawn arrived, but that didn't make Dean feel any better. Sure, Cas was an angel, so what did blood mean to him? But if he couldn't heal himself and he was sick, then blood loss was definitely something to be worried about.

Sam pulled up short. "You hear that?"

Dean stopped. There was a small burst of a police siren, followed by the wailing of others further away.

Shit, that couldn't be good.

Dean exchanged a look with his brother before the two of them set off toward the sounds. They came across a road packed with first responder vehicles that were surrounding an overturned ambulance.

"Maybe it's just an accident," Sam said.

"Maybe." Dean had a bad feeling in his gut, though.

His phone rang, loud and jarring, and he fumbled in his pocket to reach it. He didn't need to answer, though, because at the same time, Sheriff Tanner looked over from where she stood at the accident scene, her phone pressed to her ear. As soon as her eyes met theirs, she hung up, and Dean's phone stopped.

"Agents!" She stormed over. "Did you just come from the woods? What the hell is the matter with you?"

"We, uh," Sam sputtered. "We were just following up on some leads."

"Leads! You nearly got your man killed, you know that? I told you there was a wild animal out here."

Dean stiffened. "You saw Ca- uh, Agent Fales?"

Sheriff Tanner crossed her arms. "He stumbled out of the woods this morning and got hit by a car."

Dean's eyes widened.

"But he was already in bad shape before that," she went on. "Mauled by whatever animal has been doin' the killings. I was going to call you, but then he had some kind of fit in the ambulance and caused it to flip. He's escaped."

Dean jumped from relief to dread in two seconds flat. Cas was alive, but apparently still out of his mind if he was crashing ambulances.

"Which way did he go?" he demanded.

Tanner shook her head. "Don't know. We're bringing the dogs in."

"Look, Sheriff," Sam jumped in, sounding panicked. "Let us handle this. He's one of us. We can find him."

"He's a danger to others and himself."

"He's sick," Sam pressed. "And delirious from blood loss. He's not trying to hurt anyone."

Tanner's lips thinned almost sympathetically. "All the more reason to bring him in as quickly as possible and get him to a hospital."

Dean's jaw tightened. They had to get to Cas first.

The Sheriff turned as a van pulled up and three men with search dogs jumped out. "Look," she said to the Winchesters, not unkindly, "We'll find your man, okay?" Then she headed over to brief the search teams.

"This is getting out of control," Sam hissed.

"Yeah," Dean muttered, running a hand down his face. "Okay, we have no choice but to stick close. Those dogs will probably catch Cas's trail before we can."

"And then?" Sam prompted.

"And then we hope he recognizes us enough to let us help him," Dean replied.

A muscle in Sam's cheek ticked. Dean didn't like it, either, but he gritted his teeth and headed after the Sheriff, who was just sending the dogs to the ambulance to try picking up Cas's trail.

"We're coming with you," Dean said.

Tanner shook her head. "Agents—"

"He's our partner," Dean cut her off. "We're coming."

She let out a resigned sigh. "Yeah, alright."

One of the dogs threw its head back and howled, signaling it had the scent. The group headed off into the nearby field, Dean and Sam following closely. Dean had no idea how they were going to find a way out of this, but first priority was finding Cas alive.

The dogs led them along the edge of the woods and then into some pasture land. Every once in a while Dean would catch sight of blood on the ground, spiking his worry further. The Sheriff's deputies were combing the field, presumably for a body, while the dog teams kept moving onward relentlessly. Until they came to a barn and the dogs started to bark furiously. The leader raised a fist and pointed at the structure.

Sheriff Tanner nodded, and put a hand on her gun holster.

"Hey, stand down," Dean snapped, him and Sam pushing their way to the front and planting themselves in her path. "He's not a fugitive."

"He crashed that ambulance and could have killed those paramedics," the sheriff responded tightly. "I can't let him hurt any of my men."

"Then we'll go in," Sam countered. "A bunch of strangers are just gonna make him freak out more."

Tanner's eyes narrowed, hand still on her holster. "The way you're talking makes it sound like your colleague is hopped up on drugs."

"He's not," Dean bit out angrily, taking an imposing step toward her while Sam took one toward the barn and threw his palms out as though to warn everyone back.

"Look," Sam said loudly. "The animal that attacked him was sick or something, and it probably passed on the infection to our guy when he got bitten."

The sheriff arched an incredulous brow. "Seriously?"

Dean shot an authoritative glare at the rest of the officers. "Just everyone stay out here," he ordered. "We got this."

There was a tense moment where the deputies cast uncertain looks toward Sheriff Tanner, and after another beat, she waved at them to stay put.

"I'm coming with you," she said, stepping forward.

Dean bristled and opened his mouth to argue, but she cut him off.

"My jurisdiction. Now let's go. Your partner needs help." At least she finally removed her hand from her gun.

Dean ground his teeth and moved quickly enough to get in front of her as she approached the barn. "No guns," he growled, nudging the door open a few inches so they could slip inside.

Not that bullets could hurt an angel. Usually. Dean didn't want to test that with the state Cas was currently in.

The three of them crept inside cautiously. There was some hay and a row of stalls, some riding tack to the left, but otherwise the place looked empty. Dried grass and sawdust hung in the air mustily.

Dean exchanged a look with Sam as they carefully started to fan out, checking corners and behind farming equipment. The sound of reedy breathing drew them both short at the same time, and together they converged on a single stall. Dean's chest constricted when they stepped in front of it and found Cas huddled in the back against the wall. Most of the blood on his clothes had dried, and his complexion was ashen. He flinched upon seeing them.

"Stay away!" Cas snapped.

Dean threw his hands up. "Whoa, buddy, it's just me and Sam."

Cas's eyes were glazed and unfocused as they darted back and forth, ghosting over the Winchesters without a glimmer of recognition. "Sam?" he rasped.

Sam inched closer. "Yeah. And Dean. We're here to help."

"Dean," Cas repeated, still not sounding completely lucid. His gaze flitted to the side and his brow furrowed.

"Yeah," Dean said softly, drawing Cas's attention back to them. "You with us?"

Cas flinched a second time, stiffening as he whipped his gaze to the side again, almost as though boring through the walls of the barn. Dean heard one of the dogs outside yip, and he clenched his fist to divert his frustration from his voice.

"Cas, buddy, focus on me," he said, trying to keep his tone calm and soothing like he was talking to a child.

Cas shifted with a grimace, and his eyes narrowed with dark suspicion as Sheriff Tanner decided to press herself into the crowded space and see what was going on for herself. Dean's jaw hardened with the urge to yell at her to back off.

"And this is Sheriff Tanner," he said hurriedly. "She just wants to make sure we get you safe and take you home."

Cas squinted at them. "She was at the- the road," he said hoarsely. "She told the demons to take me to the hospital."

Dean stiffened. Oh, crap.

Tanner leaned in close to his ear. "I can get some tranquilizers. Might be the best way to get him out of here."

"No," Sam blurted. "Just- give us a minute."

"Your friend doesn't have a minute," she hissed.

Cas suddenly pushed himself up with great struggle, clinging to the wall. "You're not Sam and Dean."

Dean raised his hands non-threateningly again. "Cas, man, it is us."

Cas shook his head fervently, which almost upset his precarious balance. "No. I can hear the hellhounds outside. Which means you're demons."

Tanner reached for her radio. "I'm calling for some tranquilizers."

"Dean." Sam knocked his arm frantically to get his attention, eyes widening.

Cas drew himself up shakily. "I won't let you take me."

Dean saw the unearthly aura begin to suffuse around the angel a second before Cas's eyes started to glow blue.

Crap.

Tanner paused with the radio raised halfway to her mouth. "What the hell…"

"Cas, don't," Dean called desperately. "It's really us."

But Cas wasn't listening. The angel took a wobbly step forward and raised his outstretched hand toward them.

Crap, crap, crap.

Dean's ears popped as the air pressure increased and heat wafted from the impending supernova about to be unleashed. He and Sam grabbed the sheriff and ran, making it back out to the front of the barn in time to take cover behind the farming equipment as radiant light exploded with a shockwave that rattled the walls.

The moment it receded, the Winchesters were hauling the sheriff up and dragging her out the barn door. Dean cast one last look over his shoulder and saw Cas stumble weakly back into the stall. His chest tightened, and he wanted nothing more than to rush back to help his best friend. But they needed to regroup.

And so he pulled the barn door closed behind him with a resounding bang.

Sam kept one hand on Sheriff Tanner's elbow as they staggered outside.

"What- what the hell was that?" she spluttered.

He grimaced, and exchanged a grim look with Dean. That had not gone well at all.

"Was that a bomb?" someone shouted from the perimeter.

"Sheriff!"

Dean took a step toward the waiting deputies and officers, one hand up to hold them back. "You need to get your men out of here," he told Tanner harshly. "And those damn dogs."

Yeah, they were making the situation worse if Cas thought they were hellhounds. Although, Sam noticed the animals had been cowed by that angelic display of power, even muffled behind closed walls.

Tanner started shaking her head, eyes wide and frantic. "Are you kidding? I need to call in more men. Was that even human? It couldn't be human," she rambled, only to straighten abruptly and narrow her gaze on them. "And why aren't you two freaking out?"

Sam shared a look with his brother. Guess there was no avoiding 'the Talk' at this point.

He took a breath and turned back to the sheriff soberly, keeping his voice low for their ears only. "Okay, we're not actually FBI agents. My name is Sam Winchester. That's my brother, Dean. And we hunt monsters."

Tanner stared at him. "Monsters?" she repeated dubiously.

"Yeah," Dean put in. "That bear you thought was killing people, was actually a hellhound. We killed it last night, but our friend was bitten and now he's sick."

"And he isn't human," Sam added. "He's an angel."

The sheriff's mouth moved soundlessly for several moments before she raised a hand as though to ward off what they were saying. "I don't know whether you're all on drugs, or you think this is some kind of joke…"

"You saw what happened in there," Sam pressed. "Please, just let us handle this. Our friend isn't thinking straight and if he feels threatened, he's going to defend himself. Tell your men to clear the area."

Her lips thinned in displeasure as she seemed to consider it, and Sam waited tensely. But finally she turned to address the other law enforcement personnel and shouted for them to fall back to the road.

"Ma'am?" one of them questioned.

"Just do it!"

She shook her head at herself. "I'm gonna be kicked out of office for this."

Sam gave her a grateful nod. "Not if everyone goes home safe." He turned to Dean. "So what do we do?"

"Hell if I know," Dean muttered as he watched the deputies and officers retreat, taking the dogs with them. "Cas say anything about hellhound sickness before he lost it?"

"Only that in theory, it was possible." He ran a hand through his hair. How the hell were they supposed to help their friend? "Think his grace will take care of it eventually?"

Dean pulled out his phone. "I'm not waiting on that to find out."

Sam quirked a brow at him. "Who are you calling?"

"Crowley." Dean punched a button and held the phone to his ear. "It was his damn hellhound that went loony; he'd better have a way to fix this."

Sam's jaw tightened, but his brother had a point, and they didn't really have anyone else they could ask.

Sheriff Tanner leaned toward him. "Um, you're calling this Crowley who owns hellhounds?"

"Well, he is the King of Hell," Sam muttered.

Her eyes widened further. "You have the King of Hell on speed dial?"

"Hazard of the job," he explained. "We're not friends."

"But you're friends with an angel."

Sam gave her a small smile. "Yeah."

Tanner nodded slowly. "Maybe I'm the one who's been drugged."

"It's a lot to take in," he said sympathetically.

"I don't care if it was rabies or hellhound pox," Dean's loud voice rose in volume. "You had a rogue hellhound on the loose, killing random people who didn't sell their souls. The way I see it, that's a problem for business. A problem we took care of for you, so you owe us. How do we help Cas?"

"It's just," Tanner whispered to Sam. "Cas the angel? Sounds kind of…underwhelming?"

Sam smirked. "His name is Castiel."

"Ah. That does sound more angelic."

"Don't forget that little display of angelic power back there," Sam said, nodding to the barn.

A little of that panic returned to her eyes. "Right."

"Okay, thanks." Dean hung up and turned back to them. "Crowley said it's rare for hellhounds to go rabid, but not unheard of. And apparently the disease can be passed to demons who are bitten, too, so he's got a cure somewhere. He's gonna text it to me once he finds the recipe."

Sam's chest tightened as he glanced at the barn. He hoped Cas could wait that long.