June 2016 - Pennsylvania
"Cas?" A warm voice echoed down the stairwell.
"Yes?" He set the paint brush into the tray, wiping his hands with the rag in his back pocket.
"Lunch!"
He smirked as his stomach grumbled, "Just a minute!" Taking a step back to admire his handiwork, his arms folded over his chest. Not bad for an amnesiac's first time painting. The walls to the basement looked glossy, shimmering under a fresh coat of white.
It was odd, the way life seemed to fall into place after he had woken up here. Mary needed things done around the house and he was feeling better everyday -not quite enough to test his skills beyond the safety of the house against the looming infected, but enough to feel like he was repaying her for letting him stay. It wasn't as if he had anywhere else to go -at least, that was, anywhere that he knew of.
The creak on the fifth step seemed natural, familiar in the way he anticipated it and he realized how strange it was for him to become so familiar with a home. Had he been a drifter before coming here? Roaming across the lands, never becoming too comfortable or too familiar with on place?
"Hurry up Clarence! It's gonna' get cold!"
"I doubt it." Cas smirked over her shoulder, hands grasping her sides. He chuckled slightly as she jumped, narrowly avoiding a hot splash of oil as she dropped the spatula into the frying pan.
"Jesus Christ, how many times do I have to tell you not to do that?!" Her hand knotted in the flannel she was wearing at her chest, the other smacking his hands away.
"Perhaps once more, fair maiden of the house." Cas snorted as she shooed him away, going to the table to wait for her to join him. In a moment she would bring his plate, pretend to say grace and they would eat together, enjoying a moment of respite before going back to their chores- it was nice the way everything was starting to become a routine. How long had he been here anyways?
"Good Lord, food. Amen."
It was her 'abridged version' and even though some part of him revolted at the very notion of turning one of the Lord's prayers into a joke, he smiled with her. Had it already been two months since he'd woken up in the spare room? "Thank you." He gestured to the food on his plate, making it habit to thank her for everything she'd done for him thus far -even the smallest of things- and she always gave him a reason as to why he didn't need to.
"Stop your blathering, hard working men need their fuel."
"Mary!" His voice echoed across the field to her silhouette cast upon a hanging sheet, the timbre in his voice suggesting that something was amiss in his perimeter check. He moved quickly towards her.
She stepped out from behind the row of drying clothing on the line, tucking clothespins into her apron. "What is it?" Her voice was worried, he'd never sounded distressed about their barriers before.
"Trucks, three of them," He was slightly winded, which, he supposed, was a testament to just how comfortable he had become in his routine here with Mary, "An SUV and a Jeep, gathering in the bend in the road."
Her eyes hardened, clearly she knew something he didn't, "Humans."
It was a statement more than a question and confusion shone in his eyes, "Why would they be anything but?"
"Never mind," She assumed a look that meant he wouldn't be getting any information out of her right now, "I'll go see what they want." Moving towards the side of the house she stopped short at his voice.
"Then I'm going with you." He advanced, closing the distance between them almost immediately.
"No you aren't, Clarence." She turned to investigate, only to be stopped by his hand wrapped around her arm.
"My name is Cas," His voice had an edge she had never heard before, "and I am going with you."
"Suit yourself Feathers."
"Feathers?" That was a new one. "What-" Before he could finish she'd turned around and swung at him, "Whoa!" Grasping her by the shoulders he thwarted her attempt. "What the-" She almost broke his hold on her and when that failed she settled for stomping on his toe. He could feel rage, white hot and familiar bubbling up from inside and before he could stop himself he was shouting, "What the hell are you doing Meg?!"
She gasped, caught off guard, her struggling stopping instantly.
"Meg." He said it again, this time barely audible, eyes unfocused, shifting rapidly back and forth as memories flooded back. Fingers dug into her arm, not because he wished her harm, not because he was in-fucking-furiated with her for not telling him who he was, but because he couldn't process. Everything was happening too fast and not fast enough at all! His world was spinning and before he knew it the woman -no, demon, before him disappeared.
Memories were jumbled, everything was confused, he couldn't remember anything but at the same time was overloaded with memories of Meg the demon. Meg, the thorny beauty. Meg, his caretaker. Nothing else made sense, not a single damn bit of his life, but he remembered her. He remembered her and everything she'd sacrificed for him. "Meg." His voice was a little louder this time, "Meg!"