Castiel watches Dean sleep, the familiar act calming him. After the day that they had had, he thinks that some peace is nice, and very welcome.
His eyelids are heavy, and he fights the unfamiliar sensation. Dean is silhouetted by the single strand of light coming in through the tiny space the curtains did not cover. The streetlight from outside is casting a pale blue light on the hunter, and Castiel is taking his time to study Dean's face, as if he did not already have it committed to his memory. The rise and fall of Dean's chest is hypnotic, and the steady beat of his heart soothes Castiel immensely.
Dean and he had kissed for a time that seemed to both last forever and yet be too short. Castiel had sensed the human's fatigue, and he had quietly bid him sleep. Dean had nodded, and had curled them up together, chest to chest, so that Castiel could watch as he fell asleep.
Could watch him still, hours later.
Even though he had spilled out nearly everything that he had been keeping from the hunter, some things remained his only, to keep hidden in his wings. They had not discussed Anna or Balthazar, and Castiel had most certainly not mentioned his Grace. Dean did not need to know of the slow poison making its way through his veins, making each beat of his heart more necessary than the last. Making him more like the man in front of him, face smooth and free of the lines that it bore too often while Dean was awake. Dean looks peaceful like this, and Castiel tries to take some of that peace for himself, pressing their bodies together before reaching for Dean's soul. It's quiet and pliable, and Castiel contentedly settles himself down next to it, Grace pressed alongside it.
The arm that Dean has around him squeezes him gently.
Castiel sighs quietly. Grace is what makes him an angel – without it, he does not know what he will be. The sword of Grace is a double edged blade, as likely to bite Castiel as his enemies if he does not obey the orders and rules that it lays down. More likely, even.
He has broken too many of them already.
Dean lets out a small murmur and shuffles closer to Castiel slightly. Castiel lets a small smile grace his mouth as Dean's hands tighten where they grip him lightly. Castiel does not dare to try and dream walk with the human – he fears that he has lost that ability already. It is the same reason why he has been conserving Grace for the last few months. His ties to the source of his power have frayed and snapped, and he must fend for himself from now on. His wings shiver in dread at the thought, and Castiel hushes them. There is a chance that his siblings could be looking for movement on the celestial plane, and that is where his wings exist. He does not want to give away their position. But that doesn't stop him from cautiously bringing one up and curling it around Dean. The hunter shifts slightly, most likely sensing that something is there, even in his sleep. A normal human could not have felt it, but there is a piece of Castiel buried in his soul, and Dean had been more aware of Castiel after the angel had joined them together, come what may.
He blinks, and it suddenly becomes hard to open his eyes. He had been trying to avoid thinking about his sudden need to rest. He is not complaining about curling up with Dean, but angels do not need to sleep. He had mediated, that time after he had answered Dean's subconscious prayer and the fear that Castiel had felt snaking through their bond, souring it when he brushed against it. But he had not intended to fall asleep last night. He had been tired after fighting his way out through the traitorous angels, but his anger and grief at Balthazar's death had allowed him to escape with no extra injuries, and two death blows, one which had been against Poliel. Balthazar would have rolled his eyes at him. But it had not been mediating or even meaning to rest last night – he had simply blinked, and opened his eyes to find that hours had passed. It had been disconcerting.
Castiel shakes his head slightly and sighs. He had separated himself from Heaven to flee his siblings. He is paying for it now, with his Grace bleeding out sluggishly, even as he tries to clutch it with fingers that it are incapable of holding it. He does not, however, think it is true sleep. He is not human – not yet, a part of him whispers – and while it may seem like sleep to him, to someone who had not experienced it before, to a human it may be something very different from what they think of as sleep.
He swallows and nestles into the warmth that Dean is letting out, evening out his breath and clearing his mind, as if he was about to contact his Father. Instead of doing that however, he thinks about the strength of Dean as he breathes calmly next to him, and the hunter's resolve that everything would be – in his own words – okay.
Castiel could believe that. He could believe Dean.
The other pack is close.
Madison narrows her eyes and draws in another breath. Thomas, her second in command, is close behind her.
"I think we're close." He murmurs. Madison's ears pick it up easily, her senses more keen than any human's.
She nods. "Yeah. But there's something else…" She trails off. There are human scents here as well. She doesn't know why that's important. It's a popular park for humans in the day time. Human scents are everywhere. But these are different.
Thomas doesn't think so. "Maddie, it's just some humans, probably jogging or something. We have to chase the other pack. They're heading towards the Alpha's pack."
"There's something about them," she says, frustrated. The moon is hanging above them, a sickle in the sky. "I don't like it."
Thomas shifts uncomfortably. There's a reason that she's the alpha, and not him. She can pick up things that he can't. This might be one of these things.
"What is it?"
Madison shrugs. "You go and keep everyone together. I'm going to go and take a look."
Thomas hesitates, but goes when she growls at him. She purses her mouth and sets through the forest, hardly making any noise. She's bathed in scents of this forest, so it should be harder to smell her, should be harder for the other pack to realise that there's a wolf not of their own in the vicinity.
She finds the humans first. As soon as she sees them, she realises why she thought they were different. It's because she knows them.
Well, only some of them. And she had only known them for five hours. And it had been nearly a year ago.
She can't remember all of their names, but she remembers their scents. The red haired hunter that had been with Dean is behind a dark skinned man. Anne – or was it Annie? – is behind her. There is a man with long hair and one who is gangly and thin ten metres to the left. Behind them is a young woman with blonde hair.
She doesn't worry about them spotting her. Each one of them is making more than double the noise that she is, and there are more of them than her. They don't know how to use their noses, so she doesn't have to worry about them smelling her. If she's lucky, she won't have to risk her pack to take out the other werewolves. These hunters will do it for her. She's seen them in action, and it isn't something that she wants to see around her own pack – but a rivals? She feels the beginning of a grin stretch her face.
The hunters are moving in the right direction, so she simply trails them as they walk. When they start getting off track, she swiftly moves ahead of them and makes some noise, far enough away that they wouldn't shoot, but close enough so that they would change their course.
Madison waits until they've gotten close enough that she knows that they're going to run into the other pack before she starts running back to her family. Thomas is keeping everyone together and calm when she gets there.
"There are some hunters," Madison tells him. Thomas tenses.
"Shit," he hisses. "We have to get out of here."
"I know them," Madison tells him. "And the other pack still needs to be killed."
"We can get them later," Thomas says. Half the pack is looking at them, worried. It isn't often that they argue in front of everyone.
"No. You take the pack back to the safe house. I need to make sure that they're gone before I come back."
Thomas bites his lip. She narrows her eyes at him.
"Ryan isn't going to be happy," Thomas mutters. Madison rolls her eyes.
"I can take care of him." Her mate is just going to have to accept that she is in charge, not him. Which isn't something that he accepts happily, but she could beat him in a fight, and he knows it.
"Fine," Thomas says. Everyone is up on their feet, and he lets out a rough bark, beckoning them to follow him. Madison watches as her family disappears towards safety, and then turns back to where she can hear gunshots.
By the time she gets there, nearly all of the other pack is dead. She stays in the trees, not wanting to get shot. Without their fur, the werewolves are near defenceless against the hunters. Madison looks up at the moon. It's at its quarter mark, so if they have any of the blood, then the hunters could have problems.
As if her thoughts summoned them, three werewolves burst out of the forest, heading straight towards the hunters. Annie and the other red haired lady don't see them, but the man with the long hair and his partner do. The lanky one shouts a warning and jumps in front of not-Annie, getting bowled onto his back by one wolf. The shots became frantic, the blonde woman doing most of the shooting, and within the minute, all the wolves and the rest of their pack are dead. Madison quickly circles the clearing, making sure that all of the pack is dead before observing the hunters in the middle of the clearing.
They're panicking. Madison takes a deep breath in. The smell of a Change is in the air, and she lifts her head. She could use another pack member.
"You can't do anything for him," she calls out.
They all look up. Annie bares her teeth, trying to stem the bleeding from the bite wound on the man's shoulder.
"Dean and I have worked together before, a few times. Where is he?"
They all tense. "Who are you?" Calls out the red haired woman.
"Madison," Madison replies. "Look, I know how to deal with bite wounds. Let me help him."
She still hasn't come out of the trees. They all start whispering harshly to each other. Madison lets them, looking around for the member of their merry group that she knows the most.
"Is he still with Gabriel?" She calls out. "I swear to god, I don't know what that thing was, but if I ever meet it again, I'm going to chew it's head off. It's that annoying. I would have thought that Dean chose his companions a bit better than that."
She can't smell him anywhere, so she's going to assume that he's not on this trip. The man on the ground is still bleeding out. The blonde woman is pressing a bandage over the wound.
"He's going to die," she says.
"Fine," the dark skinned man says. "Come and help."
Madison waits for another moment. "Please," Annie calls out.
At that, she cautiously stalks out of the trees, watching them carefully to make sure that no one pulls a gun. They grudgingly give her room to kneel by the man's side.
"Hey," she says quietly, for him alone. "I'm Madison. What's your name?"
"Garth," the man says, obviously in pain. Madison nods.
"Okay Garth. I'm going to help you through this, okay? Don't worry about anything. You just relax."
She takes off the bandage they had tried to cover the wound with and inspects the bite. "He didn't get enough saliva on it," she tells the hunters, and works up a glob of spit to put on the wound. They all flinch when she spits it out, but the bleeding slows almost immediately. "Werewolf saliva stops wounds from bleeding," she says casually. "But it has this pesky side effect of turning you into a werewolf if it gets into your bloodstream. I'll take him into my pack. Don't worry, he'll be safe. I don't anything crazy in it."
"Whoa, wait up there. Garth is coming with us."
Madison frowns at the long haired man. "And live separate from others like him? From others who know how to control themselves and live without excessive killing? He'll go rabid within a few months. I've seen it before, and I'm sure that I'll see it again."
She continues treating the bite while the silence around her festers. A howl in the distance makes her bare her teeth.
"Stupid Ryan," she mutters. "Why I even keep him around, I have no idea." She shakes her head and throws her head back, calling to her mate. The hunters shift uneasily.
It isn't long before Ryan comes through the forest and steps out into the clearing. He's one of the blood, not one of the bitten, so he's in wolf form. His dark grey fur ripples and Madison has to stop herself from staring appreciatively.
"I've got a bitten. We'll take him back with us. He used to be a hunter, so he should be easy to train."
Ryan regards her silently, before looking down at Garth. He huffs to her, and she huffs back, telling him to scout for any of the other pack that she missed. He immediately starts loping away through the forest.
"I have to thank you," she says to the hunters. "My pack was going to take out this pack, but then you came along, and I didn't have to risk anyone to kill them all, and I got a new pack member. This night is looking up."
The hunters are staring at Garth. "We're not leaving him," not-Annie says. "After Dean, we can't leave him as well…"
Madison looks up. "What happened to Dean?"
No one answers her, and she bares her teeth. "Fine. Be that way."
The blonde woman shakes her head and looks away. Madison nods over the wound.
"Take him to a hospital and get him stitched up. Then send him to this address." She gets a piece of scrap paper out of her pocket and scribbles down an address. "Someone will meet him and take him to where we are. We'll take care of him, don't worry."
They all exchange worried glances, but that's not Madison's problem. Ryan is sitting a few trees back from the clearing, tail wagging. Everything is fine, and she needs to go. Her pack needs their leader.
"I'll see you around," she murmurs, giving Garth one more look before bounding off into the trees, following her mate back to their family.
Castiel wakes when Dean shifts against him and lets out a low grumble. Castiel touches their bond, but the hunter isn't dreaming of anything out of the ordinary, and Castiel hopes that he took his words to heart. Castiel had meant every word that he had said, and he needs Dean to heal from it, for both their sakes.
Dean has his nose buried in Castiel's hair, and his arm is slung over his stomach. Castiel cautiously takes Dean's hand and twines their fingers around each other. It makes him feel better. Dean's soul and Castiel are still wound around each other, and Castiel does not take the time to separate them. Having Dean against him is intoxicating.
There is only the first hint of sunrise in the air, so Castiel waits patiently for Dean to wake, wanting the hunter to get all the sleep that he can. Castiel is content to simply lie next to him, certain in the knowledge that both of them are safe.
A few minutes after the clock next to the bed clicks over to seven o'clock, Dean takes a deeper breath and sighs. The air goes over the nape of Castiel's neck, and he feels a rush of goose bumps go over his skin. Castiel stops himself from shivering, feeling his stomach turn over from both Dean being near and from his Grace bubbling unhappily inside him.
Dean's hand tightens in his as the hunter gradually becomes aware of his surroundings. "Cas?" He asks groggily.
"Dean," Castiel replies quietly. Dean yawns and groans, flexing his fingers where they're holding hands and pauses. He lifts his hand to look at their hands and Castiel can feel himself blush slightly.
"Sorry," he says, moving to untangle their fingers. Dean tightens his grip and Castiel stops.
"It's fine," Dean says, quirking his lips out in a smile. He leans down and kisses Castiel gently for a second, before letting him go and stretching, pushing his hands up and popping his spine. Castiel reluctantly lets go of Dean's soul as the hunter moves away.
Dean pushes the covers back and wanders over to the bathroom, and Castiel hears the shower start running, the water splashing as Dean moves around. Castiel slides out of the bed himself, and tucks the sheets back up, so there is no evidence of them remaining. Then he gathers all of Dean's clothing and puts it back in his bag, before cleaning up the rest of the room so they would be ready to go. By the time the shower turns off, Castiel has finished getting everything together, and is just waiting for Dean.
The other man comes out of the bathroom wearing a new pair of boxers and the shirt he had been wearing in bed. Castiel watches as he looks around the room, searching for his bag. He flashes a smile at Castiel and spots his bag where Castiel had left it, on the small table in the room. He wonders over there, yawning, and unzips the bag.
Dean stretches, and Castiel tries not to stare at the sliver of skin that's revealed when his shirt rides up slightly.
"You want to go grab some food?" Dean asks, scratching the back of his neck while he rummages around in his bag.
Castiel nods. "Yes. Although I will not need anything."
Dean turns, frowning slightly. "It'll look weird if I sit there and you're not eating."
"I am simply concerned about how you are going to afford it. You no longer have your business contacts, or credit cards." Castiel furrows his brow slightly, looking at Dean with concern.
Dean sighs. "Yeah, well I've been trying not to think about it. I have my personal account, but I bet the FBI's tracking that. I might have Sam draw some cash for me and wire it to me. I've got a decent amount stashed. Don't sweat it."
Castiel pauses before he continues. "Very well. Where are we going?"
Dean shrugs. "Wherever we want. What do you feel like?"
Castiel tilts his head slightly as Dean pulls off his old shirt. He throws it aside and digs around in his bag, his soul letting off small sparks of annoyance, presumably because he can't find what he's looking for. Castiel watches the muscles in his back roll and shift, and can't think of any food he had experienced before.
"Cas?" Dean asks, turning around to look at him questionably, an eyebrow raised.
"Coffee," Castiel blurts.
Dean nods, pulling a shirt over his head. "Yeah, I could go for some coffee. I saw a diner down the road, and they're probably open at this time of day. What do you think?"
Castiel shakes his head, trying to clear his clinging thoughts. "Yes, I think that is agreeable."
"Awesome. Put on some clothes, and we'll leave. I only booked the room for one day, so after that I think we should hit the road again. You got any ideas on how to find this kid?"
"Several," Castiel says quietly. He had forgotten that he would have to change as well. He feels a touch of annoyance towards himself, and it startles him for a few seconds before he brushes it away.
"Good, tell me over breakfast. I'm hungry."
Castiel nods and go over to where his clothes are. But before he can put his shirt back on, Dean's hands are skimming over his waist, sliding down and settling with his thumbs inside his boxers. Castiel stiffens slightly as Dean steps up and presses against him lightly.
"You should wear some of my clothes. You'll stand out less, and if anyone's looking for you, they'll be expecting the suit look." Dean's hands slowly slide up, taking the singlet that Castiel had been wearing with them. Castiel lets Dean strip him, moving his arms so that Dean can slide the undershirt over his head. "We'll get some clothes for you later."
Dean lets the shirt fall to the ground, nosing at Castiel's neck and biting it lightly. Castiel turns in his arms, ignoring the heat that was left wherever Dean's hands trailed.
Dean smiles and leans down, brushing their lips together. Castiel takes the invitation and moves his hand up over Dean's left shoulder, brushing over the handprint there, the physical mark of their joining calming him somewhat.
"Come on," Dean murmurs, but belies that statement by tilting his head and kissing him again, deepening it. "Let's go."
"We… Can't if… You keep… Kissing me," Castiel manages to say, in the short periods of time when Dean is not pressing their mouths together, tongue gently trying to press his mouth open. With a shudder he lets Dean in. The hunter's hands tighten where they're resting on Castiel's hips, and the angel can tell that he is restraining himself.
"True," Dean says, and Castiel takes a steadying breath when Dean's hands leave him. Dean goes over to his bag and pulls out a pair of jeans and a light gold and white plaid shirt. "Here," the hunter says, throwing the angel the items. "Put those on." Dean bundles up his other clothes, but Castiel grabs his coat before he can touch that.
"I'm keeping this," he says.
Dean lowers his eyebrows. "Cas, it's the middle of summer. No one is wearing a jacket. It'll look weird."
"Still. I'm wearing it," Castiel continues stubbornly.
Dean sighs but does not argue any further. "Fine."
Castiel pulls on the shirt and does up the buttons, unlike Dean. The jeans are too big for him, so Dean hands him a belt to keep them up. Presentable to the world outside, they give the key back to the clerk at the front desk.
The diner only has a few people in it. A television is playing in a corner, and a waitress is moving around, serving food to the three people who are there.
Castiel would have ignored the television, if Dean had not immediately concentrated on it. He turns to the screen, wondering what had his hunter's interest.
"…Videos show an indistinct man murdering three people. But that's not what some have focused on, is it Merida?"
The screen switches to a young woman with dark skin standing outside the FBI building in Phoenix.
"No Frank, it isn't. While the government, police and FBI are all trying to settle this incident by claiming that it's false, overnight a horde of people who are claiming otherwise have popped up. There are claims saying that the three people who were murdered were angels, to people saying that creatures like vampires and werewolves are real. While some of these can be discounted," the news presenter smirks for a second. "There are others that cannot be ignored. Clearly, something is happening in this video that has gone viral all around the world. Here's part of it now. Viewers, be warned that the following content contains graphic violence."
The woman disappears, and a grainy shot appears. It's the main floor of the FBI's building, with everyone milling peacefully. Castiel sees himself being taken by Zachariah, Ariel, Keeliah and Yvviel. Dean appears, his face blurred, and Castiel watches as Dean kills his siblings. The camera is too far away to pick up any dialogue, but it picks up when Zachariah disappears, and then Castiel and Dean vanish after him after kissing. More angels appear, and the video stops when the growing chaos knocks the cameraman to the ground, and the footage turns sideways. The image turns back to the news presenter.
"There you have it. What the government is saying is a hoax, while others are calling it a government cover up. Frank, we'll have more for you as this situation develops…"
Dean has a pinched look to his face, and Castiel decides that he does not like it. "Dean?" He asks quietly. The hunter's eyes are still fixed to the small screen, even though the news has moved on to a tornado gathering off the coast of Florida.
Eventually, Dean shakes his head. "I was expecting something like this, but still. Charlie and Ash and whoever else they rope in to deal with this have their work cut out for them."
"Bit crazy, isn't it?" A waitress drawls as she walks by. "It's all that they've been showing this morning."
Dean shakes his head, and Castiel follows him to an unoccupied table.
"At least they won't be able to publically search for me," Dean sighs. "It would be like admitting the video was true, and that they are trying to cover it up. So no man hunts, which is good."
The waitress comes over, smiling at them. "Can I get you anything this morning?"
"Two coffees please. One black, one white." She nods, scribbling something down on her notepad. "And one of your big breakfasts." Dean smiles at him as she moves on to the next table. "You can try whatever you want, and I can eat the rest."
Castiel smiles for a second, and does not resist the urge to touch his Grace to Dean's soul. Dean's smile grows bigger and his feet slide forward under the table to touch Castiel's. Castiel ducks his head slightly. Even though Dean cannot recognise the touch for what it is, he can respond to the rush of feelings that he has for Castiel.
"So where do you want to start?" Dean asks. "We shouldn't be dodging anyone looking for us, so that should make it easier."
Castiel looks out the window, at the milling of souls passing by. "Out of the city. It is too big. It is hard to find any pure souls are here – there are too many souls around. It is crowded. I cannot see anything, as everything is blurred and indistinct."
"Okay. We'll head west, then? Maybe drop by the Roadhouse," Dean suggests.
"Maybe," Castiel says quietly. "I will know the child when I see them."
"Is there any way I can see who you're looking for?" Dean asks.
Castiel shakes his head. "You would need to be able to see their souls, and that is not an ability that you possess. I will have to search out one by myself. They are common in children, but it still may take a while."
"Is there anything specific that we need that's hard to get, other than the blood?"
Castiel nods. "Yes. The ritual needs to be performed on a ley line. And we need some griffin feathers. But other than that, it is simply an incantation."
Dean bites his lip. "Sounds simple enough, I guess."
The waitress arrives with the food, and Castiel watches as she puts down the coffee and the one plate with eggs, bacon, some sausages, toast, hash brown and mushrooms. Dean pushes the cutlery over to him first, and Castiel takes it after a second. Dean picks up the coffee with the milk in it, leaving the black coffee for Castiel.
Dean sips his coffee while Castiel cuts off some egg and bacon and places it in his mouth.
Eyes widening, he looks up at Dean. There's still residual worry from when they had seen the news report in the hunter's eyes, but it is quickly clearing. Dean grins at him.
"Nice?"
Castiel nods and swallows. "Yes. It is not as good as yours, but I like it."
"Awesome," Dean says, snagging one of the sausages and gulping it down. "Not bad," he says through a mouthful of food.
They continue eating their breakfast, Castiel consuming less than Dean. The hunter is happy to eat everything the angel doesn't touch, and Castiel enjoys the obvious pleasure that Dean is getting from eating the food.
"So what's the plan?" Dean asks him. "Where do we go to first?"
"We should gather all of the ingredients that we need before we try and get the blood of the pure souled child. It will only be viable for a few days after it is collected before its properties disappear."
Dean nods, looking pensively down at the food. "Okay then. Let's start as soon as we're done here, okay?"
Castiel feels his mouth twitch up in a smile. "Very well. As soon as you have finished, we will leave."
Dean seems to take that as a personal challenge, because it is not long after that they are back in the Impala, Dean speeding along the roads to get to their destination as fast as he can manage.
"It was unlikely that we would find someone the first time that we looked," Cas tells him, looking up with wide, blue eyes. "Do not worry."
Dean opens the door of the Impala. "Still. I want to find a kid so we can do this thing."
"Of course," Cas says. "And we will."
Dean sighs and starts the engine. "Yeah. I just don't want it to take forever."
They had sat at a playground for five hours, looking at the kids who had been around. Dean had started by just soaking up the sun, but he had gotten antsy eventually. Even after he had bought them lunch, Cas still hadn't spotted anyone. It had made Dean grumpy.
"It won't. We should find one soon. They are fairly common in children."
Dean runs a hand through his hair. "If you say so."
They drive in silence for a while. When they get to a crossroads, Dean looks at Cas. "Which way?"
"Left."
Dean turns the way that Cas had directed. Every time they reach a major intersection, he looks at the angel for directions. Cas calmly tells him which way to go each time, and it isn't long before they're on a high way, and Dean feels himself relaxing, calming down as the asphalt sped by under his wheels.
Cas has them drive for the whole day, and when Dean's stomach grumbles for the third time, he stops at the next town that has a motel. The lunch he had snagged from a gas station hadn't done much for him, so he's on the lookout for anywhere where the food looks good and yet is cheap. Ephraim is small, but Dean spots a Walmart on one side of town, so it's good enough for him.
The motel isn't upscale, but there's no roaches running around the rooms, so Dean's been in worse rooms, even if some of the stains look very suspicious.
"There was a phone in the lobby. I'm going to call Sam. He's probably freaking out right now."
"You did send him a text," Cas mollifies him. "He probably knows that you had to keep quiet and hidden after what happened."
Every time Dean had turned on the radio that day, half of the time, the presenters were talking about the mysterious happenings that had happened in Phoenix. Dean had eventually just shoved one of his tapes in and they had listened to his music for the drive. He isn't sure what Sam is thinking. He would know that Dean and Cas are the ones in the video, and Dean's text probably had him more worried than reassured.
"Yeah, I guess," Dean grumbles. "But still. If I were him I'd be going nuts."
"He has Alicia and Jess to worry about," Cas reminds him. Dean shrugs.
"Still. I'm going to call."
Dean closes the door behind him, putting his hand in his pocket to dig for change. He feeds the change into the phone, and types in Sam's number.
"Hello?" Sam asks cautiously.
"Sammy," Dean greets tiredly, running a hand over his face.
"Dean!" Sam exclaims. "Oh my god, I've been so worried. First of all, the text out of nowhere, and then when I flicked on the news, do you know what I saw?"
"Yeah, Cas and I saw it," Dean sighs. "It's pretty fucked up."
Sam is quiet for a few seconds. "Are you okay?" He finally asks.
"Yeah," Dean says, rushing to reassure his brother. "We're fine. But I think we're going to have to stay off the radar for a while until things cool down."
"What's happening Dean?" Sam asks quietly. "Our phone calls lately have been a bit weird. You've changed. And now all this stuff with the angels…"
Dean feels his throat clog. He knows Sam won't judge him for Cas. The only reason Sam didn't want him hooking up with guys when they were younger was because he was being hurt by the other men. He sighs and looks up at the ceiling.
"It's complicated Sam. Really twisted and screwed up and all jumbled into a massive pile of shit. It'd take too long to tell you now. Just keep safe, okay? Make sure all your wards are up to date, and tell Jess to be cautious. Take care of Alicia."
"Dean," Sam says, and Dean hates how his brother is sounding worried. It's his job to keep Sam safe. Sam shouldn't have to worry about anything. He should be happy with his wife and daughter, not worrying about him and whatever crap Dean had gotten himself into.
"Please, Sam," Dean says.
There's a pause. Dean taps his fingers nervously against his leg while he waits for his brother's answer.
"I'll come down and help," Sam offers. "Take some time off work."
"No," Dean growls. "You've already had too much time off because of me. And Jess needs someone there who knows what to do if something goes wrong."
Dean can picture Sam rubbing the back of his neck on the other end of the phone. "Fine," he finally says. "But if anything else happens, I'm coming, and you can't stop me. Deal?"
Dean would feel better with his brother by his side. Sam had always had a calming effect on him, someone who could see through his shit and had his back on hunts. It would be nice to have him here. But Sam has other commitments, and Dean doesn't take up all of his time anymore.
"Okay," Dean relents. "Look, I'll try to call when I can, but it might be patchy. Don't be surprised if someone turns up on your doorstep and starts asking questions about me."
"I get it," Sam replies. "Do you need me to do anything else?"
"Actually…" Dean says. He outlines his plan of getting Sam to wire him some money. Sam agrees, and sets up a new account for him on his computer while they talk. Dean writes down the account number and pin, so he can go to the nearest bank and get a card for it ASAP.
"Thanks Sam. I appreciate it."
"No worries. Stay safe. And tell Cas hi from me."
"Will do."
Dean stares at the phone for a minute after he hangs up. Then he shakes his head and heads back up to their room.
Cas answers the door when Dean knocks. The angel peers up at him when Dean closes the door behind him.
"Did you contact Sam?" He asks.
Dean nods. "Yeah." He sighs. "He offered to come down and help, but I told him that he should stay with Jess and Alicia."
"We may need help in the future," Cas muses quietly. "But it is probably wiser for him to stay with his family now. They will need protection from anything that knows about them and tries to use them to get to you."
Dean clenches his jaw. "I've been trying not to think about it."
Cas steps closer to him. "Sam knows how to defend them. They will be safe."
Dean looks away from Cas. "You don't even know Sam. How do you know that he'll be fine?"
"Because I know you," Cas tells him, and Dean feels a hand come up to brush against his shoulder. "Because you would not let Sam go into the world unable to fight against anything that might come after him."
Dean feels the corner of his mouth tweak up in a smile. "True." He shakes his head. "We booked this room for a reason. Get ready for bed."
Cas nods. Dean grabs his toothbrush out of his bag and goes through the daily rituals of getting ready to sleep.
It ends with him sliding under a sheet next to Cas, the heat of the night not allowing for any more blankets than that. The angel is watching him calmly, and Dean doesn't waste any time moving right over to where he is. Dean left his shirt off in the heat, and since Dean had taken off his undershirt this morning, Cas's chest is bare as well. Cas sighs softly and his hand reaches up to brush against the hand print on Dean's shoulder. It sends a quaver through him, and he blinks it off. Even knowing that Cas had probably just touched his soul… It's too weird to think about. The angel fits his hand into the perfect mirror of his palm on Dean's shoulder easily, and his blue eyes pin Dean in place.
This time it's Cas that leans over to him, and Dean can't say he minds it. Cas presses their lips together softly, and Dean slides a hand over the angel's waist to his lower back and pulls him closer. Cas makes a small sound in the back of his throat, and Dean chases it, stroking his fingers over the soft skin of his neck. Cas's hands run through his hair, and Cas tilts his head, deepening the kiss.
Dean can feel the roll of muscles under his hand. Whoever the vessel was, he must have jogged or something, because although Cas isn't ripped, there is the smooth leanness of a runner in the lines of his body.
Dean digs his nails into the skin of his back, and Cas lets out a startled sound. Dean nudges his head forward, sucking Cas's lower lip into his mouth. Cas sighs and Dean tastes the air that the angel lets out.
It doesn't last for long. Dean finds himself stroking a thumb over Cas's cheekbone while staring into the angel's eyes, and he isn't sure how long they've been doing it for. He tangles their legs together in an attempt to get closer to the angel.
What did I do to deserve you?
"Good night Cas," Dean whispers. Cas does his twitch version of a smile.
"Good night Dean," the angel replies quietly. Dean pulls him closer, settling them together in the bed and hoping for a peaceful night without any dreams to disturb it.
"I feel like a total creep doing this," Dean mutters, looking around at all of the kids playing in the park. The numerous parents who are socialising while keeping an eye on their children ring the edges of the playground, some sitting on the council provided seats, while others stood in groups.
Castiel is staring intently at the kids. Dean shifts uncomfortably, looking around to make sure that none of the parents had marked the two men staring at the children, who are playing and having fun. Dean frowns as one kid pushes over another one, but doesn't interfere. God knows what would happen if some protective parent decided that Dean is trying to kidnap their offspring.
"Is there anyone here?" Dean asks. Cas hasn't said anything for a few minutes, and they're beginning to get weird looks from people. Cas hasn't moved, his gaze locked on one of the kids.
"Maybe," Cas says quietly. "I need to get closer."
Great, Dean thinks, running a hand over their face. In the moment that his eyes were closed, Cas had started walking towards the child he wanted to look more closely at. Dean abortively tries to jerk Cas back by his coat, but the angel has already moved out of his reach. Dean smiles at the people looking at him, trying not to let it look pained. Nothing here folks.
Cas crouches next to a small boy, and Dean spots a parent making her way towards him, her brow pinched in a frown.
Time to get out of here. "Cas!" He calls. The angel looks back at him, and Dean pointedly looks towards the mother making her way towards Cas. Cas flicks a look at her before turning back to the kid. Dean rubs the back of his neck, hoping that no one would call the police.
Just before the mum reaches her child, Cas stands up and exchanges a few words with her. Mollified, she picks up the small person, and watches Cas come back to Dean. Dean sees the vial that the angel pockets, and smiles slightly.
Cas meanders back over to Dean, who looks down at the angel expectantly. "Did you get it?" He asks quietly, looking around at the playground and the other families that are there.
Cas nods. "Yes. I explained to the child that I needed his blood to stop something terrible from happening, and once I assured him that no needles would be involved, he was agreeable to letting me take some of his blood."
Dean shakes his head. "You have a way with kids. Who would've guessed."
Cas cocks his head and Dean resists the urge to smile. "Come on. Now that we have the blood, we can decide where we're going to do this thing."
Cas nods. "I believe that the best place would be on a ley line. There is one near here."
"We still need to get all the stuff though."
"Simple. We will find somewhere that is hunter friendly. They should have everything that we need."
Cas points out the general direction of the ley line, and Dean drives towards it while also looking for a shop where they could get the stuff they would need.
They're nearly at the border of Idaho before Dean sees a place. He pulls over and parks, seeing the symbol in the window of the psychic's shop that means that it sells to hunters.
Cas follows him into the store. There's a man behind the counter, and he takes one look at them before putting away his magazine.
"How can I help you two?" He asks.
Dean puts the list that Cas had written on the counter. "So you have all of this?"
The guy takes one look at it and scratches his head. "I'll have to check about the feathers, but everything else should be easy."
He starts getting everything on the list, and the pile grows until all that's needed are the griffin feathers. Dean is standing next to Cas, their arms brushing if either of them move.
"I'll go ask my mum," he says, and turns to go to the back. Dean snorts.
"We could walk out with that right now, and we wouldn't have to pay."
"But we will not, and he knows that," Cas replies.
Dean raises an eyebrow. "Pardon?"
"He has latent psychic ability, likely from his mother. He can sense people's intentions. He knows that we will not leave with the items."
"Huh," Dean says. "Sounds like a handy thing to be able to do."
"Not always. It drives some insane, especially if they are around people with murderous intentions. It is most likely why they live here. It's not a very large town."
Dean bites his lip and looks at the angel. "Everything has its drawbacks, I guess."
Cas nods just as the boy comes back out with the feathers. Dean pays the large bill in cash, which leaves him with nearly nothing left. He chooses to ignore that in favour of giving Cas some of the items to carry out to the Impala.
Cas makes sure that everything is stored securely in the trunk. Dean watches on amused as the angel fusses, making sure that nothing would roll around while the car is in motion.
"It'll be fine Cas," Dean finally says.
"None of the ingredients can have anything else on them Dean," Cas tells him, frowning slightly. "It would disrupt the ritual."
When Cas finally has the trunk arranged to his liking, Dean drags a hand down his angel's spine, reaching up to close the Impala. He looks up at the sky, noticing for the first time the black clouds on the horizon.
Cas lets out a huff and walks around to the passenger door, opening it and getting in. Dean smiles for a second, getting in and turning the engine over. Music starts playing through the speakers, and Dean grins at Cas, who rolls his eyes.
"You know where we're going?" Dean asks.
Cas nods. "Yes. I had several sites already chosen for where the ritual could be performed once the order was given, and one is close to here. We should arrive in about two hours, which would give us the rest of the day to complete the ceremony."
"Sounds good to me," Dean says, turning out onto the main road. "You just tell me where this show's goin' down."
Cas tilts his head and Dean smirks, following the instructions that Cas gives him.
They finally arrive at their destination, although Dean doesn't think it's much of a destination.
"Here," the hunter says disbelievingly.
"Here," Cas answers.
Dean looks over at the angel. "You've got to be kidding me."
Cas tilts his head. "No. I believe that this is an appropriate place to conduct the ritual. It is isolated, on a ley line, and it is unlikely that we will be disturbed.
Dean can't argue with that. But still. "Okay then. Into the garbage dump we go," he mutters, as he turns off the engine of the Impala and opens the door. Cas does as well on the other side of the car.
Dean gets everything that they'll need for the ritual out of the trunk, and hands half of it to Cas to carry. The angel takes it without complaining.
Dean lets Cas pick his way through the piles of trash. Cas would know the best place for the ritual, since he could see the ley lines and Dean couldn't. A rumble overhead makes Dean look up, and he looks at the storm clouds gathering, and wonders if they're going to have to do this in the rain. They continue walking for twenty minutes before the angel pauses in a clearer than usual space.
"Here?" Dean asks. Cas looks around for another minute before nodding.
"Yes. I think that this would be the most appropriate place to conduct the ritual."
Cas starts laying out the first layer of the circle, a line of salt. Dean puts the candles at five regular intervals around the circle, making sure that the wicks are ready to be lit. Cas then puts the wreath of lavender and rosemary on his head and steps into the circle.
Dean waits until Cas nods at him before he lays out the spices and griffin feathers, one at every cardinal point. Cas stands at the centre of the circle, eyes closed and mouth pursed in a frown.
Dean checks the circle and the ingredients one more time. "You sure you don't need a map?" He asks. Cas nods sharply once, and Dean doesn't say anything else, not wanting to break the angel's concentration.
Cas starts mumbling, and Dean knows that even if he could hear the words the angel is saying, there is no way that he'd be able to understand them. Cas had been teaching him Enochian, but there had been millions of years for the angels to perfect their own language and Dean had been learning it for less than six months. Cas would always be more fluent than him, even if he did nothing else but study the language for the rest of his life.
Cas lights the candles with a wave of his hand, one at a time, when he reaches the right point in the spell. Dean touches his angel blade, the demon knife and his tattoo, making sure that all of them are intact. The candles melt in the hour that Cas is speaking, and Dean watches as the spices catch on fire when the flame reaches them. By then he's been sitting on the ground for a while, but Cas shows no signs of being uncomfortable.
The spices burn for an unnaturally long time. The ring around Cas burns in different colours, green and red and blue. It reaches his hips, and Dean isn't sure how the angel is coping with the heat. Dean is sweating like a pig, and he's about as far away as he can get from the fire, under a small outcropping of garbage. At least the scent of the spices eclipses the scent of the tip.
It's another fifteen minutes before anything changes. Cas abruptly falls silent, and Dean stands, looking around for anything out of the ordinary. When he looks at the angel, there's a quiet look of concentration on his face, and Dean can only assume that he's getting the direction from the spell.
Cas spins around to a different direction. Dean tenses, but nothing else happens. He looks around and then concentrates on the angel in the circle of fire in front of him.
"What way is it pointing?" Dean asks, after a minute has passed.
"North," Cas replies quietly.
"Uh," Dean says, confused. "North is above Ohio. And when we were there it said south."
"These rituals are extremely vague," Cas says. "It's not strange to get opposite readings."
"Fuck," Dean mutters. "Well, then which one is right?"
"This one, I would think. It's probably closer, and the closer that the ritual is, the more accurate the reading."
"Awesome," Dean mumbles. "So what's next?"
Cas frowns. "Everyone would have felt us complete the ritual, but because we are the only ones here, they will not know what direction we were pointed in. The demons will likely choose a location different from here, and find their own direction. We should try to find where they are, and then try and find out what direction they are pointed in." Cas breaks the circle and the fire dies all at the same time, falling down and disappearing as if it had never been there.
Dean nods. "Make sense. So where do we –"
There's a flapping sound behind him, and Dean pauses mid-sentence. Cas's face freezes, and Dean slowly turns to look behind him.
"Boys," Zachariah greets them. "Having a good day?"
"It just got a lot worse," Dean murmurs.
Zachariah lifts his eyebrows. "Now, now Dean. Don't be like that. We're feeling grateful for your services. Don't annoy us and use that up too soon."
Dean tenses. Cas slowly moves towards him, until he's behind Dean. It makes the hunter feel better, but the situation isn't looking up. More flapping sounds echo behind him, and he doesn't want to think of how many angels they could be facing.
"We thought you would try something like this," Zachariah says haughtily. "And we had someone watching the child that you took the blood from. As soon as we had eyes on you, we kept watch. We know everything," Zachariah sneers, his eyes full of disdain, "That you've been doing. We knew where this was going to happen, and we knew you were going to be here. You had no opportunity to avoid us finding out about this."
Dean bares his teeth at the angel, backing up until his back is pressed against Cas'. His angel is tense, and Dean doesn't want to know how many angels he's looking at.
"It's time for both of you to come in," Zachariah sniffs. "Castiel, you will be terminated immediately. Dean, as you most likely already know, will be taken to Michael. My brother wishes to… meet with you."
"Yeah, I don't think so," Dean growls at the bald angel. Zachariah laughs for a second.
"Ah, no. You don't get a choice. Both of you will be taken. The more angelic lives that you take, the more you will regret resisting us. Don't make this hard for everyone. Lay down your arms."
"No," Cas says, voice gravelly. "We will not submit."
"Well then it looks like we have a problem," Zachariah says blandly. "Disarm them."
Dean relaxes into his fighting stance, ready for whatever may come. That's probably what saves his life.
Instead of the angels swarming forward and overwhelming them with ease, some sort of bomb goes off just behind where Zachariah is standing. The bald angel blocks most of the blast, but the rest slams into Dean, and Cas behind him. A piece of concrete that would have probably gone straight through Dean's head instead knocks into the back of Castiel's, which would hurt, but wouldn't kill him. The other angels let out harsh screeches that ascend until Dean can't pick them up because of their high frequency. Cas screams as well, and Dean thinks that if it had been bad enough to affect the angels, then he should have been affected as well. Since the full blown angels are near writhing on the ground, and he's only in mild discomfort, he's going to go ahead and think that it affects angels and not humans.
He kneels down next to Cas, letting the angel lean on him as he pants, his eyes squeezed shut. Dean looks around, trying to see the source of the bomb. Cas's blood is sticky when he touches the angel's head.
The dark clouds that have been gathering all day suddenly seem a lot closer. A wind filled with sulphur blows over the clearing, and Dean touches the demon killing knife at his belt, making sure that it's there.
"Dean," Cas gasps. "Demons."
"Yeah, I got that far," Dean mutters. "Come on, we have to get out of here. This has gone downhill way too fast."
Cas nods, and Dean helps him to his feet. The angels are simply lying on the floor now, but they look exhausted, and so does Cas. The angel leans on him heavily, head hanging and eyes shut tightly, and Dean looks around for a way out. The trail through the dump they had used to get here is gone, trash blocking the path. The angels are beginning to stir, so Dean sees a new path that is in the general direction of the Impala, and starts dragging Cas towards it.
"Nuh uh uh Dean-o. You're not getting out of here that fast."
Dean shudders to a halt, the familiar voice making him freeze.
"Dean," Cas whispers. "He's not here for you." The angel's voice is filled with pain, and Dean feels a rush of hopelessness go over him.
"Wrong, Castiel. I'm still a little bit mad at Dean for evading me the last time we saw each other. I didn't get to do nearly anything that I wanted to."
Dean grits his jaw, and takes a step forward. Three demons appear in front of them, smirking at him with black eyes.
"Come on Dean. Give over the angel, and come with me. It'll be like old times. I'll peel back that skin on your chest, take off the tattoo, and we can go for a ride. It'll be fun."
Cas makes a soft sound as Dean's arms tighten around him.
"Get out of here, before I kill you," Dean threatens lowly. "Let us leave." Dean turns his head around to look at the senior demon. Alastair cocks his head, leering at him.
"Don't be that way Dean," the demon coos. "The angel isn't worth it, even though I can smell you all over him. Leave him, come back to me. I know you want to."
"No thanks," Dean responds, drawing the demon blade. He lowers Cas to the ground, the angel looking like he's having trouble supporting his own weight. "What was that?"
"The bomb?" Alastair asks, eyes flicking white as he surveys his work, staring at Cas on the ground. Dean has to fight to not throw himself at the demon just to get his gaze away from the angel. "Just a piece of weaponry long forgotten. It took me forever to figure out. It cuts their connection to their Grace," the demon sneers in his nasally voice. "I haven't figured out how to make it permanent yet though. They'll get their wings back in an hour or so."
Fuck. No wonder Cas is near passed out. His Grace is an intrinsic part of him. Dean swallows. There are four demons, including Alastair. He would have thought there would be more.
"Where's the rest of your lackeys?" Dean asks. "You only running around with three? What is the world coming to?"
Alastair's eyes are still white. "I have enough support. It's not like this is a hard mission."
"I'd think it'd be more important," Dean muses out loud, trying to buy time. At the moment, if he tried to take on everyone, he'd fail miserably. If something else happened, it might give him the advantage. "Is Azazel trying to grab power?"
Alastair scowls at him, moving forward a few steps. Dean hesitates; he can't be between Cas and the three demons and Alastair at the same time. Judging Alastair to be the bigger threat, he stands between the angel and the demon.
Alastair's eyes flick back to normal. "Dean, Dean, Dean. We've been through a lot, you and I. For old time's sake, come with me. Put down the knife."
The angels aren't moving. When he flashes a look over his shoulder, the grunts have gotten closer. Tensing, he comes up with a plan, which had as much of a chance of him dying as the situation he is in now does. But at least he'd be taking some of them with him.
In an explosion of motion, Dean leaps over Cas and stabs one of the demons in the chest before they realise that they're in danger. The first moment is the one time he has the upper hand, so he tries to prolong it for as long as he can, but the other two demons are wise of him now, and he only manages to get in a shallow cut to one's forearm. Not letting up, he dodges the knife one had pulled and ducks under a punch from the other, jamming it in its thigh. It won't kill, but it'll hurt like a bitch.
Sure enough, the demon howls and lets up its attack. Dean doesn't turn fast enough to get away from the other demon, and it hits him, throwing him into a pile of trash. He gasps as he falls to the bottom of the pile, hearing an ominous noise above him. The garbage is about to fall, and Dean takes the opportunity to stab the demon he had stabbed in the thigh as it tries to get away from the falling garbage. That leaves one and Alastair.
Dean gets out of the way, running towards where he had left Cas. The trash crashes to the ground loudly, and Dean looks around for Cas. The other grunt had been left on the other side of the garbage, but Alastair is on this side.
Dean tries not to think about anything when he finds Cas's trench coat. He clutches the tan fabric as he continues to search through the dump, trying to find his angel.
He can't see Cas anywhere. Trying not to panic, he runs a hand through his hair, dislodging several items. He still has both angel and demon blades, although his gun had been lost somewhere. Looking around frantically for Cas, he goes through the maze, trying to see where the angel might have hid. Alastair isn't anywhere, and he's beginning to panic.
"Cas!" Dean yells, looking around for the angel. He doesn't call out for his partner too often, not wanting anything else to know that he's there. He doesn't know who else will be around; demons, or angels, or humans.
"Cas!" Dean shouts again, looking around frantically for any glimpse of the angel. But nothing presents itself, and Dean finds himself lost, alone, and with no one for back up in a hostile land of creatures that want possession of his soul.
Shit.