Summer is a miserable time to be human. I can no longer replicate your layered approach to clothing.
-Castiel
No kidding man, unless you're in Vermont or something summer's gonna suck ass. I feel bad we never got around to fixing the AC in that car of yours.
It's not a problem. We've found a… "Starbucks" and they don't seem to mind if we sit in the air conditioner whilst sipping on tap water for extended periods of time. Just while we sort out where we are going next. Mystifying.
Oh yeah dude. Starbucks is a magical place. Nobody drinks that shit but yuppies and Sam, but the AC is great. Just don't let them talk you into anything with chocolate drizzled on it.
I'll try to resist… I can't pretend that I haven't imagined what they would taste like… No matter though, five dollars is too much to spend on liquid alone.
Yeah… So realtime convo. I didn't know we could do this.
Well as luck would have it we both seemed to have picked up our journals at the same time.
Yeah its… cool I guess. What with the awkward pauses and careful grammar it's basically what we sound like face to face. Tell Ambriel I said hi. Does she know about this thing?
She knows about you. The entire host knows about you from all your exploits, apocalyptic or otherwise. I find her difficult to read. I see her glancing at my writing but she remains silent. I'm convinced she has a secret. Nothing malevolent, but something.
What am I like an angel bedtime story or something?
More like a common seek-and-destroy mission. However, Ambriel claims this is her first time in a human vessel. But the stories of "team free will" are widespread.
Yeah cause we're badasses. I don't like the sound of all this secretive shit though. If she pulls anything I'm coming to get you.
She won't. She needs me. Perhaps that's just hope talking. If the angels are trapped on earth, I want them to unite, not fight amongst themselves.
Yeah… That's make all our lives easier. 'Cept yours of course. But what else is new.
I just want peace. Whatever the cost is to me doesn't compare to the debt I owe heaven and earth.
Yeah yeah not trying to pick a fight here. I just
"…Dean?"
"Yeah Sammy, just lemme…" Dean paused his sentence and turned just in time for Sam's eyes to roll back in his head as he collapsed, his large frame colliding with Dean's chair and taking them both down. Dean heard a crack and when a throbbing pain followed he realized he'd clocked himself out good on the hardwood floors. His left wrist was jammed, probably gotten caught in the chair.
"Jesus Christ Sam-what the fuck-" Dean blinked the stars out of his eyes, shaking his head fiercely as he shoved the broken chair out of the way and tried to get a clear look at his brother. Sam was unconscious, that much was damn certain, but something wasn't right. His jaw was too tense and it looked like he was shaking…the pain in Dean's wrist increased and Dean realized with a sickening jolt that was what he thought was a jammed joint was actually Sam's grip around his arm, tightening dangerously as Sam's muscled convulsed out of his control.
"Shit," Dean swore, his hand burning as he pressed it against Sam's forehead, "Shit. Sam!"
Dean?
"Kevin!" Dean roared, finally working his arm free of Sam's death grip, "Kevin get your ass in here."
He heard the former AP student's scrabbling footsteps down the hallway, rushing as he heard the real panic in Dean's voice. Dean focused on getting a grip on Sam, using his body weight to try and hold his brother as still as he could until the seizure subsided. All Dean's strength wasn't doing much to keep Sam's spine from arcing off the floor and Jesus, why did Sam have to be so goddamned huge? Dean wasn't a small guy but he was having all the effect of a rodeo cowboy trying to pin a bucking bronco.
"Dean? What the hell?" Kevin immediately tried to jump in and help restrain Sam.
"No! No," Dean tried to keep his head together as he shoved the young man away, "You're not gonna make much difference here. Leave him to me."
"What can I do?" For once Kevin didn't have a cynical comment. Sam's pale face and locked joints were enough to sober anybody up.
"Bathroom. Turn on the cold tap," Dean gritted out as Sam finally began to calm under his desperate hands, "Then get anything that'll pass for ice outta the freezer. As long as it's sealed and cold toss it in. We gotta get his temperature down."
"You got it."
Just… what?
I don't want to appear condescending but that was not a complete sentence.
Dean was halfway down the hallway, Sam's limp arm hiked over his shoulder and his moose feet dragging on the floor when Dean's vision began to swim. He slumped against the wall as he tried to keep from dropping Sam, struggling against the black splotches that were blocking out his sight.
Concussion, Dean's brain provided. "Shut up," he shot back doggedly, shoving off the wall and doing his best to shunt Sam towards the bathroom, his brother's fevered skin threatening to overheat Dean's already addled skull.
"Goddammit Cas," Dean muttered, "This is why I need you here."
"Dean?" Kevin appeared, this time with an armload of frozen vegetables.
"Hit my head," Dean mumbled, "M'okay. We gotta get Sam."
Kevin ran ahead, and Dean heard the splash of the plastic bags hitting the tubful of water before Kevin returned, dragging Sam's other arm over his shoulder.
"I don't think 'okay' is the word to describe you right now," Kevin observed as they managed to cram Sam into the small bathroom.
"Cas," Dean said, suddenly remembering.
"No, I'm Kevin. See this is exactly what I'm talking about-"
"No, shut up," Dean cut him off, "I got Sam from here. You gotta go back to the library and tell Cas what happened." Kevin continued to look at him in concern.
"Dude, Cas isn't here."
"I know that!" Dean snapped, "The book on the table, you can write in it, it's like an email or something. Go tell him what's up while I get Sam under control. See if he can do anything. Tell him…just tell him." Kevin darted back out into the hall as Dean practically dropped Sam into the icy water, barely enough strength to keep him from cracking his skull on the porcelain. Dean did his best to hold him as Sam struggled against the shocking cold, yanking off his boots and slapping a bag of frozen peas on his forehead, getting himself thoroughly soaked.
"Stay with me Sam," Dean begged as his brother thrashed in the freezing bath.
Cas it's Kevin. Sam just dropped in the middle of the library and Dean's trying to get him in the tub. He thinks his fever's spiking again. You gotta get back here man. Dean's a wreck.
Cas's heart dropped into his stomach. He racked his brain for a response. I'm sorry, Kevin, but I can't do anything for Sam so my presence would be more of a hindrance. No, that sounded crass. Dean doesn't need me, he needs Sam to be better. That sounded selfish. I'm coming home now. He couldn't do that. Not now.
I'm too I'm too far away to be of any assistance. I don't know what to do…
A hand appeared over his shoulder. He jumped with surprise before realizing that it was only Ambriel. She must have wandered away minutes ago, while Cas had been in conversation. Pen in hand, she wordlessly began to scribble in his journal.
"Hey-" he started to protest, before he realized what she was writing.
"Healing sigil. Should buy your friend some time if the humans can apply it correctly. In blood. His brother's will work the best." She said, still writing. To finish it off, she rubbed some ink onto the pad of her thumb and pressed it into the paper. She numbered each section in accordance to the order she drew them. "Make sure they follow the order correctly, or else it definitely won't work."
Castiel stared at the paper. There was time when he could have pulled a trick like that right out of thin air. Now he couldn't even remember basic healing principles.
Ambriel plopped down in the chair across from him. "Self-pity will not help him." She said, rolling her eyes, "It won't help us either for that matter."
Cas glared at her and wondered when she had learned to roll her eyes before looking back down at the journal. Kevin had been angrily writing while Ambriel had been drawing.
Bullshit man! You're just too fucking ashamed that you can't whammy Sam back to normal to see that that's not what dean needs you for-
Listen to me Kevin- tell Dean to draw this sigil on Sam's forehead. I apologize, it must be in Dean's blood. Ambriel tells me it's a written out version of our (angels) generic healing spell. It may not work- and it won't cure him- but it might be worth a try.
Oh- ok. Yeah I'll give it to Dean.
Kevin I'm sorry- tell Dean that I'm- just let me know how Sam is.
Kevin?