A/N: Thanks original anon for your review! I'm glad this fic is living up to your expectations. :) And thank you Guest for reviewing as well. Sometimes I get the itch to draw too, but alas, I have no real talent for it.
And now, to quote pikaace from a couple chapters ago, "shit is about to hit the fan"...

Chapter 6

They packed up and hit the road after lunch. Bobby's was a day's drive away, and Dean was grateful he'd thought to buy those colored pencils, because keeping a kid angel occupied for that long in the cramped backseat of a car would have been trying on his patience otherwise. As it was, Cas was thrilled to get the colors, and immediately settled against the leather to start drawing.

"Hey, Cas," Sam said nonchalantly. "Can you draw me a picture of the three of us together?"

"Okay."

Dean drummed his fingers on the wheel in time with the rhythm of the Impala's tires eating up the road. It was like a weird family road-trip, and despite the circumstances, it was almost…nice. Sure, taking care of kid-Cas might have been a slight inconvenience, since they couldn't exactly take him on hunts, but there was something just with the fact that he was here, with them. The last time they'd spent so much time together had been when they were fighting the Apocalypse. And how pathetic that Dean's initial thought was, 'those were the good ole days.'

"Sam?" Cas's small voice spoke up a couple hours later. Dean glanced in the rearview mirror and saw him fidgeting against the seatbelt.

Sam twisted around in the passenger seat to look at him. "Yeah, Cas?"

Cas held out the paper he'd been sketching on. Dean glanced at it when it passed to Sam's hands, and was once again blown away by the detail. And now that there was an array of rich color, there was so much more…emotion, in the subject matter. The Impala blended with the dark shades depicting a night scene, though Sam and Dean leaning against the hood stood out as though highlighted by an aura. They were gazing up at the stars. There was a white patch that suggested Cas hadn't finished, but Dean was still about to tell him it looked awesome, when he saw Sam frowning at it. What the hell?

"Where are you, Cas?" Sam asked gently.

Oh, right, Sam had wanted a drawing of the three of them, which was…interesting. Though, Dean had to admit he wouldn't really mind one of those.

Dean kept glancing between the road and the rearview mirror at Cas, who looked uncomfortable.

"Um, I could be there." Cas pointed to a place on the paper Dean couldn't see while driving, though he guessed it was the blank section.

"Yeah," Sam said slowly. "I think that's a great place. Why don't you add that?"

There was silence in the backseat for a long moment, and with the way Sam was patiently waiting made Dean start thinking he was missing some whole other conversation beneath the surface here.

"I…can't," Cas finally said in a small voice. "I don't know what I look like."

Dean exchanged a look with both of them; Cas seemed troubled while Sam pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Well, we probably have a mirror somewhere."

"Dean," Sam said under his breath, and gave a subtle head shake. He twisted around to face Cas again. "Cas…do you remember what your vessel looked like…before?"

Cas tilted his head. "Mhm, I suppose so. Definitely bigger."

Sam smiled. "Yeah. Not as tall as me, but close to Dean's height." He paused. "Do you remember a tan overcoat?"

Dean shot his brother a questioning look, wondering why the heck those details were important. Cas's memory was understandably muddled right now, but that'd be fixed once Balthazar found the counter spell. And this was just a drawing.

"Yes…" Cas replied, then frowned. "I think I lost it."

"That's okay," Sam said quickly. "But do you know what to draw now?"

Cas nodded and held out his arm to take the drawing back. Sam turned back around and settled into the seat, facing forward again. It took a moment of Dean practically boring holes through him before Sam looked over and silently mouthed, "Later."

Dean rolled his eyes in frustration, but returned his focus to the road. They drove through the night, Dean and Sam taking shifts behind the wheel while the other slept in the passenger seat. Cas was mostly quiet, taking an extremely long time on that one drawing and trying to sketch himself. It seemed to be giving him a lot of trouble, and Dean would have told him not to worry about it if Sam hadn't been so intent on it.

They were a few miles outside Sioux Falls the next morning when Dean pulled into a gas station on an isolated stretch of highway. "Grab some chips with the coffee," he told Sam before getting out and walking over to the gas pump.

Cas unbuckled his seatbelt, rolled down his window, and leaned his arms on the rim. "Do they have donuts or hot chocolate?"

Dean chuckled. "And get Cas a donut."

"You're such a bad role model," Sam muttered as he headed toward the mini mart.

Dean just grinned, and leaned back against the side of the Impala as he filled the tank with gas. Cas alternated between watching him and twisting his head back to gaze up at the sky. Big, puffy white clouds rose like giant islands in a sea of blue.

"I want to stretch my wings."

Dean stiffened. He didn't want to risk Cas flying off, and they certainly couldn't risk showing his wings again. "Maybe when we get to Bobby's," he said noncommittally.

Cas let out a long-suffering sigh. "Travel by car is slow."

Dean lifted his brows; that sounded like the angelic equivalent of 'are we there yet?' "That's the thanks I get for buying you those colored pencils? You diss Baby?"

Cas frowned and seemed to consider that. "Thank you for the pencils, Dean."

He shook his head in amusement and finished pumping the gas. "You're welcome, kid." After securing the gas cap, he opened the back door and motioned for Cas to climb out. "Let's see if Sam found your donut."

Cas slid off the seat, his shoes lighting up as soon as they touched the ground. Dean took his hand—only to prevent him from flying off—and led him toward the mini mart. Sam wasn't at the checkout counter, so Dean scanned the aisles for the top of his ginormous brother's head. Sam wasn't in sight. In fact, no one was.

Dean tightened his grip on Cas's hand, while reaching the other toward the pistol in his waistband. "What do you think about a chocolate donut, Cas?" he calmly asked.

Cas eyed Dean's tense expression and the gun he was reaching for, and smartly didn't respond. They stepped in front of the second aisle, and Dean froze. Sam was on the floor, hands and ankles duct taped, along with his mouth. The roll that'd been used had been grabbed off the shelf and left on the floor next to him. Wide eyes pierced Dean's as Sam jerked his head toward Dean's left. He drew his weapon and whirled in time to face the black-eyed demon that had emerged from the back. The mini mart clerk leered in return.

Cas tugged on his sleeve and whispered, "Dean."

He shot a glance over his shoulder and found a second demon had come around behind him.

"Give us the fledgling and maybe we'll let you walk out of here," the first demon said.

Dean went rigid. They'd set a trap for Cas? How had they known about him? "Go to hell," he growled.

The demon smirked. "No problem. Think the kid would be up for a field trip downstairs?"

Dean fired. The bullet tore through the demon's torso, though Dean knew it wouldn't cause any real damage. He spun around and pushed Cas toward Sam a second before the other demon tackled him. They both hit the ground hard, the air whooshing from Dean's lungs. He threw a punch that caught the guy across the jaw, and tried to buck him off.

"Dean!" Cas cried.

Dean managed to get his gun up under the demon's cheek and squeezed the trigger. The body rocked backward from the force, allowing Dean the space he needed to scramble away. As he regained his footing, he spotted Cas backing up down the aisle while the first demon advanced on him.

"Cas! Fly to Bobby's!" Dean just prayed the kid would actually get there.

The demon flicked his wrist in response, flinging Dean into the shelves. He hit the floor with a grunt as packs of batteries, lighters, and WD-40 cans fell on top of him.

"Don't fly away, little birdie," the demon crooned. "You don't want to leave your pals here to have their intestines carved out like a pumpkin, do you? While they're awake."

Cas's eyes widened as he kept backing up until he hit the wall. Sam started making muffled noises through the duct tape, which the demon ignored, but Dean briefly took his eyes off Cas to meet his brother's gaze. Sam rolled onto his stomach and shifted so the hem of his shirt pulled up an inch, exposing the hilt of Ruby's knife. Dean glanced back at the demon, who was slowly stalking Cas as the angel scrambled into the next aisle. As quietly as he could, Dean crawled toward Sam and slipped out Ruby's knife. The demon had trailed Cas into the next aisle, so Dean went and crouched at the head of the other end.

"Don't be afraid, little angel. We have special plans for you."

Dean waited until Cas backed out of the aisle before leaping up and stabbing Ruby's knife into the demon's chest. The guy let out a choked gasp in surprise as his body jerked and flashed with orange lightning. Dean twisted the blade, and then yanked it out, letting the body crumple to the floor. "Plans change," he grunted.

He turned around, only to come face to face with the second demon, who now had an oozing hole in his left eye socket. The demon grabbed his wrist and slammed it against the shelf. His fingers spasmed open and the knife clattered to the floor. Then the demon's other hand snapped up to wrap around Dean's throat, immediately closing off his airway. Dean struggled to break free, but with his right wrist immobilized, all he had was his left, and the demon seemed impervious to his punches. Black spots were exploding across his vision, his lungs burned, and with the lack of oxygen his strength started to fail. Dean thrashed wildly; he couldn't let demons take Cas.

Just as darkness was crowding around the edges of his vision, a nova burst forth behind the demon's head like a halo. Dean squeezed his eyes shut against the pain, but even so the light was blinding through his closed lids. The air crackled, and he thought he heard the demon scream, but the sound was drowned out by the sudden explosion of glass all around. The hand around his throat slackened, and Dean dropped, gasping to fill his lungs. Something in the back of his mind warned not to open his eyes just yet, so he kept them clamped shut until the intruding sun gradually faded, leaving behind red rings behind his eyelids.

Once he could breathe again, Dean tentatively peeled his eyes open. He jolted back at the sight of a body on the floor in front of him, completely burned to a crisp and still smoking. Sparkling bits of glass glittered all around from shattered lightbulbs, and a fresh breeze suggested all the windows had been blown to pieces too. Dean's gaze drifted up to where Cas stood directly behind the demon, eyes wide with terror, hand still outstretched from when he smote that bastard to hell.

Cas blinked, and then swayed, and then tipped backward to fall flat on his butt.

"Cas?" Dean crawled around the dead demon, wincing as his skin felt oddly taut. A glance down at his hands showed they were pink, almost like he'd been sunburned. He remembered what Balthazar had said about Cas's grace being unstable and how he might accidentally hurt one of them, and resolved not to mention this in front of the kid angel. He needed to check Sam, who had hopefully been safe in the next aisle, and by the muffled protests filtering over, Dean assumed he was fine.

"Cas, hey, you okay?" Dean looked him over for injury, but it seemed as though he'd just overdone it with the grace super power again.

Cas blinked dazedly up at him. "I think I need a coffee."

Dean snorted. "How about a nap instead." He patted the kid's shoulder, just to make sure he was alright, and then pushed himself to his feet. "I gotta check on Sam, okay? Just stay there."

Dean hobbled around the corner to find his brother trying to caterpillar-crawl his way out of the aisle. Sam shot him a combination frantic-pissed-worried look, which was quite the acrobatic facial exercise. Dean ripped the duct tape off his mouth without apology.

"Ungh," Sam grunted, and worked his jaw. "You okay? What happened?"

"I ganked one, Cas smote the other—and half the store." Dean pulled the silver knife from his boot and sawed the tape off Sam's wrists and ankles. On the bright side, he'd bet any electronic security equipment was also fried.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked in a lower voice. "You look…"

"Like a tomato, I'm sure." And wasn't that nice. But he didn't want to risk another explosion by Cas healing it, so he'd deal. "I'm not hurt though."

The door chime jingled, and Dean snapped his attention up. Exchanging a brief look, he and Sam scrambled to their feet and out of the aisle, only to stop short. His first thought was maybe Cas had wandered outside; at worst, a customer had just walked in on a gruesome murder scene. Dean had not expected to see a hideous woman wearing a beige colored dress with tattered edges that fluttered around gangrene legs. The low neckline revealed blue skin that covered her shoulders and partway down her arms before fading to a more natural, pale hue. Dull brown hair fell down her back, adding to her sickly pallor. Dean had never seen the likes of her before, but she was definitely some sort of monster.

And Cas was sitting on the floor halfway between the three of them.

She roved her gaze around the demolished store and charred demon remains. "I'm impressed. The little tyke has quite the explosive power."

Dean stiffened; not another one looking for Cas. He subtly flicked his eyes around in search of Ruby's knife, and spotted it just inside the aisle to his left. Dean caught Sam's gaze and gave a subtle nod, silently forming a plan. A muscle in Sam's jaw ticked, showing he'd gotten the message. Dean dove for the knife, and Sam lunged for Cas.

There was an 'oomph' and a cry, followed by a crash. Cas's frightened voice yelled Sam's name, and Dean scooped up the knife. He spun as the woman advanced on him, and stabbed the blade into her chest. Yet there was no skeletal orange lightning, no cry of pain. The woman glanced down in disinterest before waving her hand. An invisible force punched Dean in the stomach and propelled him backward. He hit the floor and slid until he collided with his brother's flailing limbs.

"Dean! Sam!"

Dean pushed himself off Sam in time to see the bitch yank the demon-killing knife from her torso and drop it on the linoleum. Then she grabbed Cas by the back of his shirt collar and yanked him off the floor. She wrapped one arm across him, tucking him back against her chest. Dean staggered forward, but froze when she released Cas's shirt in order to close long, porcelain fingers around his neck.

"My own little fledgling," she crooned. "This was definitely worth leaving Hell for."

So she was a demon? But why hadn't the knife worked?

Cas kicked at her stomach until she squeezed his throat, and he let out a pained whimper.

"Cas!" Dean frantically looked around for another weapon he could use, but was hopelessly coming up empty. Sam stumbled upright beside him, chest heaving and eyes wide with fear. Dean didn't know how they were going to get out of this one, unless Cas had the juice to smite a second time. "Let him go, you bitch!"

The woman smiled, revealing a row of yellow teeth. "I think not. You see, this little angelic battery is just the kind of power boost I need to secure my rule of Helheim."

What? Dean took a step forward, trying to catch Castiel's gaze. "Come on, buddy, smite her. You can do it."

Cas's terrified eyes looked back at Dean. Maybe he couldn't hear Dean's prayer; maybe he could but had worn himself out with the first demon. Either way, Cas wasn't smiting, and the demon was gloating.

"Dean," Cas whimpered. It was the last thing Dean heard before the woman vanished into thin air. With Cas.