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Chapter 11 - Run.
It didn't take long for Dean to slip into a routine - look left, look right, look back, look forward. He felt like he was going to get dizzy from it, but John was walking along beside him, carrying out the same action, and Dean couldn't fail. Not in front of him. The horizon stretched grey and clear into the distance, the monstrous figures of mountains like the shadows of giants on the horizon, and the last stretches of city streets trailed around them.
It had been a day since he left, a day since he last saw Sam and Cas, and a day of nonstop worrying over what might have happened to them while he was gone. They hadn't even known each other for a year yet, but suddenly not being with the other two sent alarm bells howling in Dean's head. Something was going to go wrong - he could feel it.
As the tell-tale cold sting of rain pattered onto Dean's face, he looked up to the sky. The clouds were a liquid, murky grey, the heavens opening as rain started to pour in abundance. It made slightly dark spots on the shoulders of Dean's father's jacket - John's jacket. Dean was just glad that he hadn't recognised it yet. As silvery-grey rain, shining cold in the dull sun, pattered around them, he glanced around at the other two people with them – Jo and Ellen, faces dark, eyes fixed on the horizon.
Suddenly, as they rounded a corner, John spotted something sprayed messily onto a wall to their right. Eyes widening, he grabbed Dean roughly by the arm and pulled him back around the corner, Ellen and Jo slipping into the shadows without prompting. John and Ellen shared a meaningful look.
"We've come too far," John muttered, "much further and we'll be in their territory. Let's move."
"Wait, what?!" Dean asked loudly, only to receive a smack over the head and a 'shh' from the older man. "But we only just got here!" he continued more quietly, as John peaked around the corner and scanned their surroundings. "Why are we leaving?"
"Don't ask questions." John fixed Dean with a level stare. "I think you're forgetting who the leader here is, 'Dean'. If that even is your name."
They pair locked stares for a second more, before John looked away. "Let's get back to camp, team."
0o0o0
Sam.
Another shudder ripped through his body, and he convulsed and rolled off the bed onto the hard floor with a strangled cry. His vision blurred and his mind burned with blinding, white pain. An uncontrollable madness shook his soul and he tore himself free from the blankets that contained his feverish heat and stumbled towards the blurry shape in the corner.
"Sam? Sam, what's going on?" echoed a far-away voice, almost unheard over the violent ringing splitting his skull. Another voice spoke, though; perfectly clear.
"Do you want the pain to stop Sammy?" soothed Luci, a malevolent grin twisting his features. "You know what you have to do…" he whispered in Sam's ear. Sam gritted his teeth and screamed, as somewhere, a door slammed open and people suddenly surrounded him, voices barely stabbing through the agony that bound his senses.
Abruptly, the fog lifted, replaced by a determined kind of insanity.
—
Cas sat up in bed, concern and confusion riddling his exhausted mind. Sam was walking towards him with a shuffling, lopsided gait. In the dim light of the early morning sun, Cas saw white fluid dripping from Sam's eyes, ears and nose. He froze.
This couldn't be happening now. Not when Dean wasn't here.
"Sam, listen to me," he demanded firmly, standing up and putting up his hands to stave off the advancing threat. "I want to help you, but you've got to try and get control here, even a little."
Pain, guilt and fear flashed across the boys milky eyes before they glazed over and Sam was lost. Cas reached timidly for his knife. This wasn't how it ended. It wasn't supposed to end with Dean gone and alone, Sam too far past gone and Cas left alone with a child's blood on his hands.
He put down the knife, a single tear spilling from his eye. "It's okay, Sam, I know it's not you. I'm not going to hurt you and I'm not going to leave you." Cas stared into the creatures blank eyes and for a moment it seemed like it registered something.
But then, it all happened so fast. Someone knocked on the door. Bobby walked in. Sam lunged at him. Cas threw himself on top of the frail teen; they went down, and the world turned black.
—
Sam felt like he was possessed - a force that was not his own moved his limbs, drove his thoughts; yet he felt his own pain.
He felt the emotional pain when he saw Cas' terror, when Bobby walked in and saw the closest thing he had to a son try to rip his throat out, when he realized he might never see Dean again. He felt physical pain as Cas slammed into his body, as Bobby twisted his arms away from Cas' face when he tried to claw at the unconscious man, as he was slammed in the head with the book Bobby had come give Sam. He felt the mental pain as he writhed in anguish in his restraints, his mind and body trying to break free of that which bound them.
And he felt the worst pain, the unnameable, immeasurable pain, when Jess rushed into the room with tear stained cheeks to see that a monster had replaced Sam. He tried to tell her that this wasn't him, that he loved her, that he didn't want her to see him like this. But all that came out was a guttural, bestial, scream.
—
Cas looked as the quivering creature on the mental gurney and his heart broke, not just for Sam, but for Dean too. Both so alone, in so much pain, trapped in the shadowlands of their own minds. He reached out and took one of the creature's hands, its chest heaving as it fixed a pale, soulless eye on Cas. It couldn't turn its head in the restraints, but it was best that way, it had tried to knock itself out by slamming its head repeatedly on the metal surface after Jess came in. She had to be dragged away screaming, and the creature was sedated and more restraints were added. It had to be kept undamaged until they got Sam back
Cas drew the chair closer to the gurney and sat down, still clutching the sweaty, writhing hand in his own. He had just lost Dean, he couldn't lose Sam too. Or at least what was left of him. He ducked his head, blinking away the sting of tears that threatened to cascade in a torrent down his unshaven face. Sam looked like death, his cheeks sallow, his eyes sunken, his clothing, damp with sweat, clinging to his pale skin and showing just how prominent his bones really were. Had Cas been so inclined, he could have counted each of Sam's 24 ribs, one by one.
In a world where Castiel cared about nothing, loved nobody and only cared for the stars and planets and galaxies so much bigger than himself, his whole universe suddenly revolved around two men, one more of a child than a man, and whether they lived or died.
0o0o0
Dean walked in through the heavy iron gates at the West side of the compound. Having time to calm down and being stuck with strangers and his oblivious father for three days had given him a whole new appreciation for Cas and Sam. A broad grin swept across his face as he imagined seeing them again.
However, as soon as he stepped foot in the compound, he knew something was wrong. It was too quiet, too empty. The few people that were around refused to look him in the eyes, ducking their heads or just simply walking away.
John picked up on it too and he stalked over to the nearest citizen. "What the hell happened here while we were gone?!" he demanded in a gruff tone. The middle-aged woman didn't reply, but her gaze drifted to the large building to their left. Dean and John raced shoulder to shoulder to the door, leaving Jo and Ellen standing bewildered at the gate.
They pushed through the door and came to a shuddering halt. Dean's mind could hardly process the images in front of him. Cas was gaping at him with anguish-filled blue eyes, ringed with red and shadowed with sleep deprivation. Sam was strapped to a table, his hair as white as snow, his eyes closed. Milky fluid dripped down Sam's neck, oozing from the corners of the muzzle that held his head in place. IV bags surrounded the table, if Dean had to guess he's say pain killers, sedatives and fluids. Anything to ease the kid's passing.
Dean's knees gave out underneath him and he hit the floor. Castiel was out of his seat in a heartbeat, pulling Dean into a tight hug as the man stared at Sam. The realisation hit Dean like a bullet. That distant moment, the day so far in the future when Sam's illness finally got too bad, was here. He was too far gone.
John cleared his throat, and Dean quietened, shakes wracking his body and breathes coming out raged and broken. "Son," started John in a clinical voice, "I think it's time to end this. To put it out of it's misery."
Dean saw red, wrenching himself from Cas' arms and squaring up to John. "He's not an 'it' you son of a bitch! He's my brother! He's my family!" The last word was cold, calculated and dripping with emphasis. Still, John didn't realize, but anger coloured his features.
"Look here you insolent little brat! No one talks to me like that in my compound! Step back or I'll put down you and your 'brother'," spat John, his eyes narrowing as he regarded the boy on the table.
For a minute, it looked like Dean was going to throw a punch, but at that moment Bobby burst through the door. His eyes widened at the scene in front of him. Dean and John were nose to nose, Cas was still sitting on the floor and the steady drip of the fluid in and out of Sam set a patient metronome for the awkward seconds that ensued.
"I… Uh… I just wanted to let you know that I might know something that could help Sam," he croaked. Cas pushed himself from the ground and walked over to Bobby, grabbing Dean's hand and dragging him with him.
"Anything, anything at all. We'll do it," rushed out Cas, Dean nodding fervently beside him with his jaw set tightly in determination.
"Right, well then," Bobby nodded as he cleared his throat. "There's a rumor that there's a way to cure-"
John laughed cruelly. "That's a story made up to keep the weak and frightened sheep in line. There's no truth to it, surely you of all people know that."
Bobby stiffened and turned purposefully so that he was facing Sam and Dean with his back to John, who sighed and leaned against the wall. "-And it's said," he continued, "that the maker can be found a couple of towns over. I'd slow you down if I went with you, and you don't have much time left."
He glanced over at Sam sadly before setting a resolute scowl on his face and turning back to the men in front of him. "But I can draw you a map."
Dean didn't know what to do. If he left, Sammy could die before he got back. There might not even be a cure. Dean might not even make it back. His head was swimming and he's legs were shaking. Cas wrapped an arm around him, and Dean sank back into him.
John huffed in distain. "If you would all quite your daydreaming and whining, we could take care of this like men and get this thing done with before it gets any worse. You know who whines? Babies."
This time it was Cas who squared up to John. And this time John did get punched.
0o0o0
Dean stormed out of the shelter, running a shaking hand through his hair and leaving an unconscious Sam, a shocked Bobby and a bleeding John in the room. Cas stepped through the doorway and eased the door shut behind him. The tears that Dean had tried too hard to hide ran free in front of Cas, carving weaving paths through the dust that coated him head to toe.
"What do I- I don't-" Dean made a small chocked sound and sat down on his haunches, staring up at Cas with broken, swimming, emerald eyes. "Tell me what to do. I don't know what to do." Dean's voice cracked, and Cas' heart broke.
"You need to go," he urged, "You need to find this man and you need to bring the cure back to Sam."
Dean, stood up suddenly. "You want me to leave?!" he demanded incredulously, "Less than a week ago you flipped out because I wanted to leave!" Cas was shocked for a second, taken aback, before he gave a small snarl. There he was again – that Castiel.
"For God's sake Dean! That was you running away! This is Sam's life we're talking about!" He spoke slowly and emphatically, trying not to shout. Tensions were already high, there was no need to escalate it.
Dean didn't seem to share the same sentiment. "If I leave now, he might be dead when I come back! This might be a wild goose chase! Sammy's life is the ONLY thing I am thinking about!" he roared at Cas, towering over the man. "And if I do go, which I'm not saying I am, like Hell am I leaving you and Sam here. I won't let him die in some prison camp! And you- Well I can't leave you either." Dean took a step back from Cas.
"Why?" whispered Cas, "Why can't you leave me?"
Dean shook his head, "Let it go, Cas."
Cas refused; he took a step towards Dean, crowding into his personal space. "Tell me you petulant child, you have to stop running from anything you're too weak to handle at some point. You might as well start now." The insult was a sharp lash against Dean's pride, and hurt filled his eyes.
"Because I'm in love with you, you ass!" he screeched in frustration, turning on his heels and walking towards the nearest wire fence. He threaded his fingers through the wire mesh and stared at the ground, his back to Cas.
Cas was frozen, gawking at the space where Dean had been, his mind going at a million miles an hour. He stalked over to Dean and grabbed his shoulder, slamming Dean's back against the chain-link fence. A look of fear flickered across Dean's face, his mouth parted slightly in shock. Castiel did the only rational thing you could do in this situation - he kissed him.
It was a soft kiss at first, earning a small squeak of surprise, but it deepened as the stress, fear and pain melted away, replaced only by them. Only them, only now, only this kiss. It seemed like time had stopped, trapped in their own little pocket of reality as their lips touched.
A loud cough sounded from behind Cas and he turned to see Bobby, slightly embarrassed, standing behind them. "You argue very loudly…" he said lamely, feeling the need to justify his interruption. He continued, his tone strong yet gentle, "I'll help Cas look after the boy, you go." He gave Dean a pained look, "Please trust me, you'll regret it if you don't."
The weight of the confession was heavy in the air as Bobby walked away. Dean turned to Cas, his features set.
"I'll do it, I'll go." He vowed, "I'll save Sammy."
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