Chapter 7: Somebody Told Me

Dean stumbles into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes and yawning as he reaches for the coffee pot. He pours himself a steaming cup, letting the warmth seep into his hands, the scent strong enough to pull him into full consciousness. Sam is already sitting at the table, nursing his own mug, flipping through a book from the library.

"You check on our little house guest yet?" Dean asks, sinking into the chair across from Sam.

Sam glances up from the book, raising an eyebrow. "No, I figured she's still sleeping after last night."

Dean smirks, leaning back in the chair as he takes a sip. "Yeah, Cas hit her with the snooze button. She'll be out for hours."

At that exact moment, Castiel appears, standing in the doorway. "I heard you talking about Annie. I should tell you; she's gone."

Sam freezes, his mug halfway to his mouth. "What do you mean 'gone'?"

"She left," Castiel replies, his expression serious, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

Dean groans, rubbing his temples in disbelief. "Left? As in, walked out of here? How does someone who's recovering from a near-death experience just leave?"

"I spoke with her before she left," Castiel says calmly, ignoring the frustration in Dean's voice.

Sam and Dean exchange a look.

"Hold up," Dean leans forward, his gaze hardening. "You talked to her? What did you say, Cas? 'Hey, the door's that way, have fun dying out there?'"

Castiel tilts his head, clearly missing the sarcasm. "No. I told her you weren't like the others."

"The others?" Sam asks, the confusion still evident in his tone.

"The others she's encountered," Castiel explains, his voice taking on a somber note. "She's been hurt before—deeply. I could sense it in her. When I mentioned it, she looked… pained."

Sam's frown deepens as he processes this. "You told her that?"

"Yes. I reassured her that you and Dean are different. That you could help her."

Dean lets out a short, surprised laugh. "Well, great job, Dr. Phil."

Castiel frowns, not understanding the jab. "I thought I was doing the right thing."

Sam exhales sharply. "You meant well, Cas, but maybe that wasn't the best approach. She barely trusts us as it is."

"She doesn't trust me either," Castiel admits quietly. "But I believed she would stay once she understood your intentions."

Dean rubs his face, trying to hide his frustration. "Yeah, great job," he mutters. "Now we've got a wounded hunter who thinks angels and hunters are all out to get her, wandering around God knows where."

"I don't think she went far," Castiel says thoughtfully. "She knows she's not fully healed."

Dean's eyes narrow as he sarcastically drags out, "Good to know. We'll just wait for her to bleed out a second time and crawl back."

Sam shoots him a look, shaking his head. "Enough. Cas, do you think she's running from someone or something specific?"

Castiel pauses, his eyes narrowing as he considers the question. "I don't know, but the scars she carries—both physical and emotional—are deep. She's afraid of something."

Dean stands up, grabbing his jacket and slinging it over his shoulder. "Well, I guess we're on babysitting duty again. Let's go find her before she ends up in worse shape than before, if that's even possible."

Sam rises as well, adjusting his coat. "If she's smart, she won't have gone too far."

Castiel steps forward, his brow furrowing with concern. "I'll accompany you. I feel responsible—"

"No, you stay here for when we return," Dean cuts him off, walking toward the door. "Maybe don't try giving someone a pep talk about how awesome we are when they're already two seconds away from bolting."

Castiel blinks, slightly ruffled. "I'll keep that in mind."

With that, Dean and Sam head out the door, leaving Castiel alone in the kitchen.