Chapter 12- "You left the Brotherhood."
It was still dark when he left.
Like he wanted to steal away without anyone seeing, not so much as a distant glow on the horizon to herald the dawn and highlight his departure.
She saw that ice crystals had formed in the corner of the bedroom window, a tiny piece of winter that had snuck into his home, as though it felt the warmth leaving.
He hadn't wanted her to go downstairs with him, supposedly because he didn't want her to get cold, but she knew the real reason, that he wanted to separate the thought of her with the thought of where he was going, and if he could leave her in his bed, warm and sleepy, then he could feel more certain that she would be there when he came back.
It wasn't rocket science.
His years in the compound had made him an open book.
"Stay here." He'd pleaded before leaving. "There's food in the kitchen, hot water, clean sheets. I'd feel happier if I knew you were here, rather than at your place."
She'd agreed.
No need not to.
Meg kissed him gently and held him tight until an impatient blast on the Impalas horn sounding from the street below, drew them apart.
He couldn't look her in the eye but she let her fingers linger on his face a little longer, bit her lip against the tremble there.
And now he was leaving.
She had promised to stay in bed a while longer, but when he left, she stole over to the window.
Dean was lent against the car, his hands thrust deep in his pockets against the chill in the air.
He stepped forwards as Cas came out the building, small bag in his hand, his ratty overcoat wrapped around him, slapped him lightly on the shoulder and went round the front of the car to get in.
Meg stepped back away from the window as she saw Cas turn and look up at the building.
She longed to press her hand to the glass, to show him she could see him, but something made her hide in the shadows of the room.
Perhaps the feeling that if he saw her, he might change his mind, might come back up to the room and lock the door and never venture out again.
She knew it was the right thing to do, to let him go.
Even if it pained them both.
The Impala growled and swung smoothly from the curb, taking Cas away from her.
As she made her way back to bed, she grabbed Cas's shirt from the back of the chair where he'd left it, pressed it to her face and inhaled.
With it wrapped in her arms like a stuffed animal, she curled up in the now cold bed and waited, with dry eyes, for dawn to come.
"I thought the desert was hot!" Dean grumbled.
"It's December."
"Still, It's too cold for a desert."
The bleak landscape unfolded in front of them, long, flat mesas of rock that flanked them like tireless sentry's, tracking their progress.
When he'd ran, it had been summer.
The sun had beat down on him relentlessly, the mesas had burned a brilliant red and at times it had felt like he was walking through a corridor of hell.
Now though, the sun was weak, occasionally seeping through the yellow snow clouds that threatened them.
It hardly ever snowed here.
Not enough moisture.
It just got unbearably cold.
They'd been on the road six hours and for most of that time Dean had let him be.
He'd played his tapes and sang along quietly to himself, but he didn't press him to talk. Cas was grateful for a friend who understood.
He didn't think he'd be able to handle small talk today.
For the whole journey he'd sat quietly, his head humming with panic and fear, his guts wrapping themselves in knots in his belly.
At the last gas station they'd stopped at, Cas had stood in the bathroom, sweat beading on his brow as nausea washed over him. His face in the mirror had been waxy, pallid with dark circles under his eyes.
He looked like a man in the middle of a bad flu fever, all glassy eye's and pinched cheeks.
Dean had only looked at him with concern, but said nothing as he climbed back in the car.
Right now, in the Impala, he was in a safe place.
He'd taken many rides in this car and it felt like a second home, as calming to him as his home or the bar.
Even the burble of the engine and the hum of the road couldn't calm him now.
Behind him was Meg, before him, the compound.
Both situations made him want to crawl into a dark corner and pass out for a few hundred years.
So many risks to take.
The difference was though, Meg was worth fighting for.
Even if he was having to fight himself.
"You wanna check into a Motel first when we get into town? Freshen up a little?"
Cas shook his head.
"No. We've come this far, lets just get it over with."
"Ok. We'll grab a room after." Dean glanced at Cas. "You doing OK buddy?"
But Cas didn't answer.
He was absorbed in the sand and rock once again.
The gate was gone.
Cas stood in the space between the two giant pillars and frowned, Dean looking at him curiously.
"There was a gate." Muttered Cas, his voice rising a note as he turned to him. "It's gone. Why would it be gone?"
Dean shrugged and walked over to one of the pillars, engraved with the legend Suffer little children, and forbid them not, to come unto me: for as such is the kingdom of heaven.
He ran his thumb over the words.
"What are the symbols underneath?"
"Enochian. It's not a true translation, it's a simple form.
Pvim Gaha Od Lrasd Booapis Ipam Ol Noasmi Nonca I: Niis Nostoah Corsi Oi Olad Londoh Ol Oadiriax
… It is a slightly more disturbing quote in Enochian." He said quietly, his gaze sliding back to the compound ahead.
He felt Deans hand on his shoulder and shuddered a little.
"You ready to go in?"
He nodded once.
"You sure? Because we can turn around and leave. Come back tomorrow or come back never. Your call Cas."
"I'm sure." He started to walk towards the low, bleak buildings, Dean following behind.
Cas stood in front of the main meeting house and hesitated.
One part of him was terrified that he'd see Elijah and find himself at his feet, apologising, begging to be allowed back to the brotherhood.
He knew Dean wouldn't let that happen, but that wasn't what he was worried about.
What he was afraid of was being taken back to the Impala and driving home and wishing he'd stayed.
It was too complex an emotion to verbalise.
How could you explain to someone that the very place you hated with all your heart was also the only place you felt you belonged?
He knocked and a bright voice called out It's open.
Glancing at Dean, Cas took a deep breath, then stepped inside.
Sat behind a small desk was an older man Cas didn't immediately recognize. He was stout, balding, dressed simply in trousers and shirt, a jacket slung over the back of his chair as he was sat close to a small wood burning stove.
He looked up from his papers and smiled uncertainly. "May I help you?"
"Esiasch Zachariah."
The man blinked at Cas , then his eye's seem to clear and he smiled.
"Esiasch…. Um… Castiel? Am I right?"
"You are."
"You left the Brotherhood."
"Yes."
"And yet here you are! Paid Molap!"
"Paid what?" Dean whispered.
"Paid Molap…. Always Kin."
"Ol Io-Iad Oiad Micma Paid?" Zachariah said, moving around the desk to take Cas by the shoulders.
"I have remembered, rather than revered the old ways Esiasch. May we converse in English, so my companion can understand."
"As you wish." Zachariah narrowed his eyes at Dean but smiled when he turned back to Cas.
"I came to see Elijah."
He frowned in confusion.
"Elijah? Esiasch, Elijah passed over nearly two years ago. I have been Gran Esiasch here for nearly three. I'm so sorry."
Cas shot a panicked look Dean. "But the message? From Naomi?"
"Naomi?" Zachariah frowned. "Thin, severe looking woman?"
"Yes."
"I'm sorry Castiel, Naomi left the brotherhood not long after you. She hasn't been here for nearly ten years."
"I don't understand. She told me Elijah requested my presence, that my mother was dying…"
When Zachariah glanced at Dean this time, it was with pity in his eyes and a small shake of his head.
The small grave yard at the edge of the compound was split in two by the main fence.
They had to open a small gate to get to the furthest, those buried in non consecrated ground.
"She gave them everything." He said quietly, crouching in front of the simple grave stone.
It said, Emma, Noaln Oiad Hoath Ol …. may God love you.
"She gave them her life, her work, her son…. And they couldn't even bury her in the real grave yard. They shunned her in death as they did in life."
He stood up, wiped at his face with the sleeve of his coat and took a deep breath.
In the distance he could see children filing out of one of the buildings, hear a bell ringing for evening prayers.
There seemed to be more life here now. The children where jostling and laughing. When he was a child they had spent most of their time in silence.
"It's not how I imagined." Said Dean finally. "I guess I thought it would be more … Amish…"
"The Amaish are a peaceful people." He said, as though that explained everything.
"Yeah."
Deans words trailed off as Cas walked away, back to the other graveyard.
Stopping at a small stone he motioned for Dean to join him.
"This is Daphne. My wife."
"Wife."
Dean frowned up at Cas, who stood solidly, his eye's steely, mouth set.
"I'd like to leave now."
He saw the tiny concerned glances that Dean threw his way, and he ignored them, concentrated instead on the darkness that was rushing in as they drove back to the nearest town to find a motel.
It was funny, but visiting the compound, seeing the graves, he thought he'd feel more, but if anything he felt like something had been taken from him there, like any emotions he might have felt had been left outside the gates and simply not picked up on the way out.
"Cas. I think we need to talk."
"What about?"
His voice sounded eerily calm to his ears, like someone else was talking.
"Doesn't this seem funny to you? I don't know what you think, but something stinks about this whole thing."
Cas didn't say a word.
He just didn't care.
Bobby Singer sat at the bar nursing his whiskey.
He hated this place, but Winchesters didn't open till six, he was a man devoted to his vice, and his vice wouldn't wait till six, so here he was.
Someone slid onto the stool next to him and motioned to the bartender.
"Double Craig, over ice, and… ahh… another for my friend here."
Bobby turned his head to look at the stranger.
Dressed in black, close cropped hair and an amused smile on his face, his accent was British, but not cut glass.
No.
Here was someone who had worked hard to stop himself dropping his "haiches".
He silently congratulated himself on his initial thoughts on him.
Still got it.
"Much obliged." Muttered Bobby as the glass was slid over to him.
"My pleasure Mr Singer."
Bobby frowned at him.
"You have me at a disadvantage.."
The stranger smiled and nodded. "Yes, it would appear so." But made no effort to rectify this.
"I was told you frequent the Winchesters."
"On occasion."
"Well. I wonder if you might have seen someone there I'm looking for. Close family friend…."
He pulled out a picture and Bobby squinted at it.
"Don't recognise her."
"Shame. Shame. She got into some trouble you see, and her family are terribly upset about her disappearance. I understand there's a substantial reward for information as to her whereabouts."
"That so."
He leaned towards Bobby and smiled widely. "Substantial."
Bobby said nothing.
"Keep an eye out anyway. You can't miss her. Pretty face, bad sense of humour, bit of a whore."
He kept his silence, sipping at his drink and grimacing as though it were poison.
"Went to the Winchesters a few nights ago. You know that tall guy behind the bar? Kind of looked like a moose. Nice kid, intelligent….." He chuckled and threw some notes on the bar. "Have another on me, oh, and here's my card. Call me, if you hear anything. Anything at all."
As the stranger left, Bobby plucked up the card.
Two cell numbers on one side, his name on the other.
Lieutenant Crowley
Narcotics
Enochian phrases.
Esiasch. - Brother
Paid Molap - Always kin
Ol Io-Iad Oiad Micma Paid - You revere the old ways.
Gran Esiasch- Elder Brother
Pvim Gaha Od Lrasd Booapis Ipam Ol Noasmi Nonca I: Niis Nostoah Corsi Oi Olad Londoh Ol Oadiriax- Sickles will exist and dispose to eliminate serve (them) cannot be the end. Man become you, to you, unto you : carry you it has such ,that is god, the just, kingdom man lowers the heavens.
Noaln Oiad Hoath Ol - May God love you
Music on youtube link on profile x