124: Anger, Revisited

As they got closer to where the ritual was taking place, they could hear what was going on and none of it sounded pleasant. She could feel the powers off the combined beings seeping through her, it felt like tendrils were prodding at the mental shields she was very forcefully keeping up, trying to find a way in. Given her history with anything greater than basic demons and basic angels, she wasn't keen on that happening. She did not need to pass out from a migraine.

She also did not need to see Raphael explode like that either.

Sam pulled away from her, creeping down the stairs while she simply stood there, gripping the railing after holstering her gun. She could only watch as Sam reached for the discarded angel blade, her heart hammering furiously in her chest. They had literally just heard Castiel say billions upon billions, or some such thing, of souls in him, powering him. There was no way that sword was doing a thing outside of maybe irritating the former angel turned God. She wanted to call out to Sam, stop him. Hell, a part of her wanted to call out and warn Castiel.

Do not fear, Jane.

Well, that wasn't reassuring, at all. Castiel was in her head, he had heard her thoughts… felt her emotions, something and she gripped the railing tightly for a moment. It almost felt like she had betrayed her family but at the same time, she hadn't said anything, it had been merely a passing thought.

"You're just saying that because I won, because you're afraid… You're not my family, Dean. I have no family."

Jane visibly flinched at that, now making her way down the stairs. She halted once again when Sam shoved that blade straight through Castiel's back. He had literally stabbed Cas in the back, that wasn't lost on her at all. She hurried down the stairs now, listening to Castiel's monologue, that blade hadn't done a thing to him. He had pulled it out clean, no blood, there wasn't even a wound. That couldn't be good.

"Come on, come on!"

Castiel was now God. Sam was unconscious again. They were all back at Bobby's, including Baby. Jane could glimpse Dean's legs through the crushed windows and roof, realizing he was on his back in the Impala, trying to use those legs to pop the roof back into place. If it were any other moment, she would have had a flirtatious comment, but not today. She set the plate of sandwiches she had been carrying in one hand down on a nearby toolbox, the other hand holding two bottles of beer. "Having issues, darlin'?"

Dean twisted his head enough to see her, pulling a face but began extricating himself from his back crab position. "A few," he grunted, once he had hauled his ass out of the car, accepting the beer she was holding out. "Thanks, how's Bobby, Sam?"

"Bobby's Bobby and Sam is still out. Bobby's trying to find out something about Castiel, there's nothing so far." She twisted the cap off her own beer, leaning into him when he looped an arm around her waist. "We'll find him, Dean." To be honest she had been expecting him to lose his shit on her because Castiel had 'thanked' her for the warning, which she had never given.

Honestly, he had thought about it, it had been an impulse, but he had stifled it because nothing had come out of her mouth during that time. If she had thought something, well, he couldn't blame her for that either because Castiel HAD been like family to them. Jane and the angel had had a relationship unto themselves, similar to Dean and Castiel having their own understanding. "I love you."

She smiled, feeling his lips brushing her temple. "I love you too."

"We're gonna figure this out, sweetheart, one way or another. We'll find Castiel and fix this mess. We'll wait for Sammy to wake up and fix his ass too." He didn't know what to do anymore, about the only thing he could do was work on the Impala. It was all he knew at the moment. "Jane… do you think he'll be okay?"

"I don't know." She sighed, wishing she could say otherwise but whatever Castiel had done to Sam, brought down those walls, it had tanked him. She had been with him when he had woken up and the aftermath, going to find Bobby and Dean, she knew damn well he wasn't okay. She could hope though, right? "You know," it was time for a not so subtle change of subject, and she forced humor into her tone as she stepped out of his grasp to study the Impala. "I remember when I first came here, after… after everything happened with your dad, you worked on her then."

Dean remembered that, draining what was left of his beer. It was right after they had burnt John's body, after John had cut a deal with a demon to bring Dean back from the near dead. He had been angry, grieving, and who knew what else. They had just buried their dad, John had told him to protect Sammy and if he couldn't, to kill him… Dean got that now, all to well. He had been raging at the world and he had taken it out on her. He had unleashed his anger on her when she hadn't done a damn thing but care about him.

Hell, he had tried having sex with her right there in Bobby's scrapyard, looking for an outlet, anything, just to have a moment that wasn't devoted to what was going on in his head. She hadn't refused the sex, just the location. Maybe that was when, during that time of anger, that he had realized that she was something special, that she was meant to be here in his life.

"Yeah, I did… I guess that's what I do," he said finally, realizing she had been smiling up at him patiently, waiting for him to come out of his thoughts. "I work on her when I can't fix what really needs fixed."

"Darlin-"

"Accent."

The smile never left; he loved pointing out she purposefully exaggerated her soft Texas drawl whenever she used that word. He also seemed to just love it when she did it. "Darlin'," she said it again, just to see that hint of a smile grace his handsome face. "Somehow, someway, we always manage to come out of things okay, we'll come out okay on this too."

He wished he could believe her.