"Here we go." Dean finally said.
Here we were, again, at the same stop light we were at earlier that day. Only instead of turning left, Dean turned right. He parked the Impala in a nearly empty parking lot and jumped out. I climbed out of the car and looked at the building. Must be a grocery store too, the size of the place, judging from the view of someone on the outside, was big enough to be half a grocery store and the other half a convenience store. It wasn't too shabby either, but it wasn't grand spankin' new either. I glanced across the street at the grocery store Dean and I were at earlier, compared to the parking lot there and here, this is really pathetic. There's, like, nobody here. Talk about sucky competition.
"Hey, get a move on!" I jumped, I hadn't realized Dean was already half way there. Here I am, gawking like an idiot and he's all in a giant hurry. Slamming the door shut, I ran up to Dean. "Thank God it's not a weekend. Have I told you I hate shopping?"
"I kinda figured." I answered as we entered the store. First thing I see is a giant tv playing some random cartoon in one corner, toddler clothes across from that, and a jewelry counter parallel to that. I don't know what I expected when I walked in. I can say with confidence, this is nothing like that mall or the grocery store across the street. At least it's not as crowded, which is appealing.
Dean grabbed a cart, then pulled on my sleeve, half dragging me to the left. Again, I was standing and staring around like a dazed fuck. Dean looked up at the sign above our heads and turned left. He turned left again, stopping in front of an aisle filled with different colored notebooks and folders, pens, pencils, basically anything any kid would need for school.
"Get out the list." Dean commanded, already grabbing it before I could pull it out. Unfolding the piece of paper, he leaned against the cart and placed his foot on the bottom bars. "Alright, eight notebooks and folders, calculator, and a lot of pencils and pens. Oh, hey, don't forget a bag."
"Bag?"
"Those over there." He said, nodding to the end of the aisle where a bunch of to different back packs hanging on a rack. "Don't grab the most expensive one, ain't worth it."
He cares about me, more than Sam or Bobby. Although Sam showed he can act human around me last night, yet somehow, Dean is different. Should I even ask? I don't want him to think I don't appreciate this. I can't help but be curious, let alone, make this whole shopping trip awkward.
Just ball up and ask.
I took a deep breath, swallowed down the heavy rock in my throat and braced myself. "Dean, why are you doing this?"
"Doing what?" He asked, still looking over the list.
I paused, uncertain if I wanted to continue. I couldn't breath, my nerves were buzzed like they were shot with adrenaline. Way to go me. Well, I brought it up, I have to elaborate otherwise Dean will not drop it. My eyes shot down to the ground as I answered. "Helping me."
Dean raised his head, immediately, I regretted answering. Those green eyes were firm and icey like crystal, but I also saw curiosity which eased my nerves a bit.
"What do you mean?"
I shoved my hands into my pockets of my hoodie, twitching my fingers, the uneasy feeling in my gut increased. Despite the look in his eyes, the firmness in his face formed a rock in my throat. Boy, I'm in for it now. He's gotta understand, I gotta know something for certain. My eyes tore away from Dean to the rack of different colored pencils in see through bags. Aimlessly, I grabbed one and twisted it back and forth in my hand. Air slowly flowed into my lungs and my teeth bit down on my lip.
"Nothing." Suddenly, I lost the courage to say anything to Dean, let alone look him in the face.
Please, drop it. Please, don't ask me any questions. Let's just get shopping over with.
"Cas." I heard Dean say, but I still didn't look at him. Words formed into hot molten spits of lava in my mouth. I wanted to say something, but at the same time, not. Granted, I can't make things anymore awkward than they already are. But that doesn't mean I should open my mouth. "Come on, Cas, level with me here."
Flat nut! Well, just answer him, get it over and done with.
"I know how Bobby looks at me, pretty sure Sam looks at me the same way," Despite our conversation last night. "But you, you're all about helping me." I glanced over at him, then quickly back to the bags of pencils. "Just this morning; you've taught me how to cook, taken me out shopping for school supplies, and nearly gave me a parental lecture about stranger danger."Pausing to take a breath, I hadn't realized I was talking so fast. The words were spilling out of my mouth. "It just seems...like...you're the only one that genuinely cares about me. I'm not saying I'm ungrateful or anything like that, I just don't get why."
I sighed, my body shaking from talking so fast and not taking a breath. Dean didn't say anything, which could mean anything. I know, for me, that means my nerves are spiraling and sparkling like broken, exposed wires. I glanced over at Dean. He stared at me, the curiosity turned to emptiness, but the firmness remained. He'd better not be getting pissed at me. I'm being honest here, and he knows the three of us are giving each other death glares at every corner. One thing I don't want to do is put him in the center of our feud.
But for him to get pissed at me for being honest is bull shit. What does he expect me to do? Ignore it?
Then Dean smirked, reached a hand to me, and gently patted my arm. "We're family, sport. And I don't know if you remember this, but we don't have much of that left. Sam and I only have you and Bobby. We don't got anybody else. And no matter what you did... or didn't do has to be behind us." The more he spoke, the more at ease my gut became. "Right now, you need us and we need you. Not exactly the best time to be throwing knife's at each other. Get it?"
The kindness in his words slightly soothed my anxiety. However, I was more hoping that he would do something about Bobby, talk to him or something. But, even though his words were compassionate, his eyes were blank. Why would he say something like that, only for it to have zero meaning? Unless...
Stop it! Just stop!
"Yes, sir."
"Don't call me that."
"Sorry."
"Here," He handed me my school supplies list and leaned off the cart. "Look over the list, keep an eye on the cart. I'm gonna check out the music and cellphone, I'll be right back."
And he was worried about me leaving him?
"Alright." What else would I do? He was already gone by the time I said 'alright'.
Way to go, Cas! Way to hit a nerve! How stupid can I be!? I'm not trying to push him away, believe me, that's the last thing I want to do. I just wanted to know why he cared so much about me when, clearly, he shouldn't. That's all, and apparently, it's considered a crime. But even with that thought in the back of my mind, that didn't take the weight off my gut. I didn't mean to hurt him, I'm not say he is or isn't, but the tone in his voice then, it sounded like I hit a sensitive nerve.
"Stop it, just focus."
Then I turned to the wall of pens and pencils.
Suddenly, I was grabbed by the shoulder and shoved to the ground. Gasping in shock and sudden pain, I rolled over onto my back. I expected to find a pissed off Dean ready to duke it out.
What the hell?
I stared dumb founded at the creepy sales man of the corn standing above me, glaring at me with pure, dark insanity in his eyes. The slow, burning sensation in my chest returned. Much stronger than before, hampering me from standing up let alone defend myself. Why can't I get up? If I don't get up, I'm fucked.
Dean.
Where's Dean?
What am I doing!?
"I can't touch ya, pretty boy." He said softly, his voice deep, dark and familiar. Casually, he shoved his hands into his pockets, his eyes as lightless as a starless night. His mouth formed a mischevious, sinister grin. God only knows what was coursing in his mind, the kind of things he wants to do to me.
Don't think about that, just think what does he want with me.
I quickly looked around, hoping someone else was seeing this, preferably someone strong enough to rescue me. I don't want to put anyone else in danger here, but I'm kinda hampered at the moment. Adrenaline pulsated in my body as I struggled to back my aching body away from him, my eyes quickly scanned around for anything even close to a weapon. I tried to stand up again. Of course, the stupid God forsaken pain held me down like a heavy, burning weight on my chest. "Not with those little tattoo's on your chest. Not yet at least. But I can cause you such great agony, which I will take much pleasure in seeing. I should be recording this."
I knew who he was.
I knew what he was.
Holding my breath, I managed to fight back enough of the pain to at least sit up right. I looked around again, this time, seeing an elderly woman and her young grand daughter staring at us. Their eyes black and hard like coal, their faces cold and blank, almost as if they were guarding us.
Demons.
Great, that's exactly what I need right now. But why aren't they attacking?
Oh, they're waiting for Crowley to give them the ok. How do I remember his name? Don't think about that! Focus!
Alright then, so play cool, keep your wits about you.
"Wait." I said, putting my hand up, hoping he would see I didn't want to fight. 'Stay calm' repeated over and over in my head. No matter how many times I thought it, it wasn't working. "I don't really remember you-"
"Why Castiel, I'm hurt." He said with heavy sarcasm, putting his hand over his heart as if demons could be offended by that. "Don't you remember all those wonderful times we had together? All the creatures you hunted and killed for me?"
Creatures? Hunted and killed? Wonderful times? I know demons are freaky, but the King of Hell reaches a whole new level.
"I don't remember you." I answered a bit more firmly as if that would do anything. Of course it was a lie, but I can't exactly tell him I remember his name just not what he was talking about. My eyes froze on his stumble face, obviously, he's messing with me. What is he waiting for? It's never good when a demon plays with you before they kill you. Wish I had a weapon right now. "Whatever I had done to you, whatever I said that hurt you, I'm sorry."
"'I'm sorry'? 'I'm sorry' is all he says. How pathetic." He chortled, throwing his arms down at his side, then he turned his back. Suddenly, I noticed a couple of pencils were out of their package. That's when an idea came to me. This is gonna take a lot of effort, but it's either that, or die.
One.
Two.
Three.
Grunting and stumbling, I grasped the pencil, jumped up and shoved it into his back. I didn't hear him shout in pain, and I didn't care. All I care about was that I noticed I had caught him off guard. Which of course, is the perfect opportunity to run. I turned, bracing my legs for a rapid dash around the corner, ready to knock the old lady down if need be. Getting to Dean was the top priority.
"Ow!" I shouted, stumbling again. The adrenaline had helped me fight back the pain long enough to give a quick stab in the back. The sharp, red hot pang in my gut stopped me in my tracks. Gasping in pain, I fell to my knees, clutching my gut tightly.
Come on! Move! Go! My mind screamed at me, my body pumped with adrenaline, yet I couldn't move. The pain was overwhelming, I couldn't move.
"That was relatively brave of ya, mate." I rolled onto my side, watching helplessly as Crowley yanked the pencil out of his back and tossed it like it was nothing. His eyes glared at me, no doubt plotting some horrendous torture. I turned back around, struggling and fighting back the pain. My hands grabbed everything in front of me, dragging my heavy ass away from him.
Come on! Go! God help me!
"Back off." I jumped when someone jumped out of nowhere, pretty much, standing between Crowley and I. My body was still withering in pain, I couldn't turn to see who it was that came to my rescue. Let alone help.
"The hell are you?" I heard him ask in a raspy, British voice.
"Crowley, leave."
A girl. I'm being rescued by a girl. Not that I'm ungreatful, but God, please don't let Dean see this.
"Oh, you don't belong here. Do you, love?" He asked in a knowingly, slightly sensual tone.
Sick bastard.
"She said leave, Crowley." I heard a man say, thankful that someone was able to help her. "You can't touch him with those marks on his chest, you know what happens if you do."
How does he know...
I heard footsteps slowly approach me. My eyes shut tight, waiting for the worst to happen. My heart fluttered so fast I can imagine it sprouting wings and flying out of my chest. I imagined Dean finding my body. I can see him just leaving me, telling Sam and Bobby what happened to me. Maybe they'll leave together, be a one big happy testosterone family.
Please, just make it quick.
"Just this once." I heard a woman whisper, gently grasping my hand.
"What did you say?" Crowly demanded loudly.
Then, she said something in Enochian. Before I knew it, my hand yanked up my hoodie and pressed hard on a symbol on my stomach. Crowley hissed and vanished into the air. The pain subsided in a snap. I looked behind me; the old lady and the kid were back to normal, arguing over a stuffed animal. Not only that, the man and woman had also disappeared.
"The hell?" I asked quietly, standing up and looking around in utter confusion. I felt dizzy just trying to wrap my mind around what just happened. First, I'm being stalked by a man in the cornfield. Second, I was being saved by a woman and a man. Strangers at that. Now, everything is just peachy.
"Cas?" Dean asked, coming around the corner with a cassette tape in his hand. His eyes studying me, I think he can see how frazzle I look. Best not to say anything. How the hell can I explain what just happened? "You ok?"
"Nothing." I said, grabbing at notebooks and folders as quickly as I could, ignoring Dean's confused gaze.
But he had a point.
Was I ok?