Fic-Crossover-Supernatural:Aliens-Dean,Cas,Sam - (5/?)
This chapter is very long, it could have been two I suppose, but it felt right to make it all one long chapter. I'm a bit nervous about this one, it's a bit slower paced than the others, but I hope you guys still enjoy it.
Title: Supernatural: Aliens
Author: nicole9514
Chapter: 5/?
Rating: R
Genre: AU/horror/action/crossover - Dean/Castiel pre-slash or friendship depending on preference
Characters: Dean Winchester,Castiel, Sam Winchester, and OC's
Warnings: Violence,language, gore, scary imagery, blood, death
Disclaimer: Only written for fun. I own nothing but the errors and OC's.
A/N: Goes AU after episode 5 X 18 - Team free will fic, but with a heavy focus on Dean/Cas friendship/strong bond, so if you don't like their dynamic you probably won't enjoy this fic.
Special Thanks: To my beta skylar_matthews. To jedakin for reading this fic and encouraging/motivating me to keep writing it.
Summary:Takes place after the events of Season five's Point of No return - Dean, Cas, and Sam investigate a case different than anything they've ever seen before in Gunnison, Colorado.
Wordcount: 7,371 (total so far 40,000)
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4
Cas could sense Sam and Dean’s fear filling the room. He was the closest to Sam, a terrifying moment after he saw a flash of movement from the pipes Cas rushed forward, crashing into Sam and shoving him out of the way.
The thing slammed into him, pain flared as something sharp dug into his chest, he grit his teeth as the already injured flesh throbbed.
Cas managed to get a grip on it, and felt…fur. It was soft and it writhed, struggling to wiggle away. Cas focused on the furry animal in front of him, and realized that he’d been ambushed by a cat. He let go, watching as it leapt from his arms.
The fat, orange feline scurried away, darting out of sight.
Dean snarled, cursed, and then started cracking up.
“That wasn’t funny Dean.” Cas felt his cheeks heat up, and he hated how his heart was racing, how his legs felt rubbery.
All because of a cat.
“No. It wasn’t.” Sam added, walking over and standing next to Cas.
“You two just got ambushed by Puss-in-boots.” Dean was grinning like an idiot. “That was friggin’ hilarious.”
“Really, because I seem to remember a certain time when a cat had you screaming like a little bitch,” Sam smirked.
“That was the damn ghost sickness and you know it,” Dean grumbled.
Sam grinned, and turned towards Cas ignoring Dean‘s comment. He seemed to be good at that. “Thanks, man.”
“For what,” Cas hated the sulk that crept into his voice. Embarrassment was not fun.
“Hey, you thought you were jumping in the way of a dangerous monster - it’s the thought that counts.”
Cas looked down at his now torn shirt, and sighed. He had just started getting used to it. “You’re welcome.”
“Let’s get this done.” Sam took point again, and moved forward.
*****
The rest of the search was uneventful. They’d scoured the area for the better part of an hour with no result.
They’d found several vents, one along the floor, one on the ceiling, none of them were damaged.
The creature was not here.
Which meant it must have found another way out - Cas felt his nerves flare up again - it could be anywhere.
He could only pray they could locate it before someone else got hurt.
“Let’s go check in with the Sheriff, then figure out our next move from there.” Sam said running a hand through his hair.
The trio headed back into the elevator, Cas licked his lips, and leaned against the wall. Fatigue rearing its head, his body wasn’t happy with all he had put it through today. He found himself longing for a place to sit down for few minutes, then shame at his inability to handle one day on a hunt with human limitations while Dean and Sam did this all the time ate at him.
Cas found himself fiddling with his now torn t-shirt, a new nervous habit apparently.
“Here, take this,” Dean’s voice distracted him from his internal self-loathing and he pulled his gaze away from his attire.
Dean was holding out a black, slim wallet - one that seemed familiar.
The former angel reached out and took it, his fingers brushing Dean’s briefly, but it was enough to pick up his friends quiet concern. Dean was worried about him, there was more, but there were too many warring emotions for Cas to get anything else but vague impressions.
Still, knowing Dean cared enough to worry over him was a soothing balm over the feeling’s of inadequacy he couldn’t shake. He was afraid that in his state if something were to happen - he wouldn’t be fast enough, or strong enough to save his friends.
He feared failing them more than anything.
Cas met Dean’s eyes.
A common human expression was that the eyes were the windows to the soul; he’d always believed it was an incredibly inaccurate and silly one. The soul was invisible to human’s, made of things that they couldn’t see or comprehend - but today he realized how wrong he had been.
What he saw there - he finally understood.
Cas saw a million emotions, fears, and thoughts flickering in those green orbs that were fixated on him. And he would have bet what little he had left of his grace that Dean knew exactly what he was thinking - that he somehow knew what Castiel was afraid of - because Dean understood and lived with the same fear.
Dean blinked, and the moment was gone, but Castiel knew that what he’d seen and sensed had been real. Knowing he wasn’t alone in his fear somehow made it easier to live with.
He felt himself relax, as he opened the item, almost smiling as he realized it was the same badge Dean had given him to use months ago when he’d first learned the value of telling a lie - and that you should never mention anyone’s father in a den of inequity. It read Castiel Gordon.
Dean was smirking when he looked back at him, and Cas got the feeling he was thinking about that day as well.
“Me and Sam have a cover story for you, just roll with it and things will be fine.”
Cas nodded.
“And make sure you face it the right way this time,” Dean quipped.
Cas felt a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Sam looked back and forth between them, confusion evident on his features.
The door opened, the moment they emerged Robin was in their face, her features strained.
“Did you find anything?”
“Nope,” Dean said, “Thing wasn’t there.”
She pursed her lips, and pulled them off to the side. In the time they’d been gone a crime scene had been set up by the vent, yellow tape blocked off the area, and a team of cops were taking samples around the area.
“Now - first things first. I’m afraid I need to verify who you are, and what you’re doing here?” She managed a tight smile. “No offense, but none of you fit my mental image of the FBI.”
Cas wondered if she meant the clothes. Last time he and Dean had posed as law enforcement agents Dean had rented a black suit, telling him you needed to look the part. T-shirts and jeans may not have been convincing attire.
Sam chuckled. “Yeah, we forgot our suits at home. Would you mind if we went somewhere more private to talk.”
She nodded, and took them to a small office down the hall, closing the door after they stepped inside.
“Show her your badge, Cas.” Dean thumped him on the back as soon as they were inside.
Cas reached inside his jacket pocket and pulled out the fake badge, sporting his photo, and identifying him as an FBI agent. Cas caught Dean’s amused expression as he made sure to turn it the proper way before holding it out for her to see.
She nodded, curiosity evident on her soft features.
He put it away when Dean’s foot nudged his; before Robin could get a word in Dean launched into an explanation.
Cas listened as they explained to her that he was an undercover agent with the FBI and he had been tracking a terrorist who had been rumored to have been heading this way.
When she asked who the person was, they politely, but firmly told her it was classified, but that it was all under control, and they’d apprehended him a few days ago.
He had been injured during pursuit and after waking up here, he’d called to let them know why he had been out of contact for so long.
They had been ordered to head here immediately to check on him.
Cas had thought he had been doing a decent job of lying, but Sam and Dean, they were amazing. If anyone else had told the tale, it probably would have come off as fake, but they sold it. It was clear they were completely at ease with the deception, and very experienced at it. If Cas hadn’t know it was all made up, he would have believed them.
Their expressions, the worry in their tones when they talked about being out of contact with him. It felt real, and Cas couldn’t help but wonder if there was some truth mixed in with the lie.
In the end Sam pulled out a small, white card and handed it to Robin. “That’s our boss’s direct line, he’ll verify our story.”
Dean mouthed Bobby to Cas while he watched transfixed as Robin left the room, dialing the number.
“Anybody hungry?” Dean blurted as soon as the door closed. “I’m freaking starving; chasing chupacabra’s always works up my appetite.” He rubbed his stomach.
Sam snorted. “ I think we all need to sit down, fill each other in, and try to figure out what the hell is terrorizing this town.”
Dean shrugged. “Is there some rule that says we can’t eat while we do that?”
Cas felt a smile fighting to emerge - spending time with these two was never dull.
******
Sam studied Robin’s expression and body language when she walked back in five minutes later. Everything from the set of her shoulders, to the softening of her eyes told him she’d bought their act. Bobby must have done his job because she smiled at them all.
“Ya’ll check out.”
Sam was about to relax completely when her gaze went to Castiel.
“I am curious, why didn’t you say something earlier, back in the woods?”
Shit.
He could feel Dean tensing near him, Cas was not used to this lifestyle. Coming up with lies at the drop of a hat were not a strength of his.
Cas smiled softly. “Old habits die hard,” he replied calmly before licking his lips. “It can be hard to let go of who we’ve been for so long.”
She nodded, then reached out gripping Castiel‘s arm briefly, understanding clear on her face.
Sam felt for his friend, he hadn’t missed the truth in his words - or the expression he’d learned from Dean.
Cas learned fast - Sam had a feeling despite his recent loss he was going to be just fine in the end. He just needed a little help from his friends.
Dean’s face was a mask like usual, but Sam knew his brother and he saw the flicker of emotion in his eyes, a little twitch at the corner of his mouth. All signs that he hadn’t missed the longing in Cas’s voice when he’d spoken of having a hard time letting go of who he’d been.
Then the signs were gone, and Dean was sporting his usual lazy grin.
“My men have this place locked down.” Robin brushed her bangs out of her face. “Why don’t you all go get a bit of rest, get cleaned up, and I’ll call you if anything comes up.”
“Sounds good to me.” Dean said.
Sam had to agree, besides they really needed a little alone time to catch up, and get their ducks in a row. A part of him wanted to jump right in and try to find these things, but he knew that might get them killed. Besides they had no idea what was going on, if they could figure out what was doing this, it might help them to find the creatures faster rather than just tromping around aimlessly.
Basic information and the promises of keeping each other in the loop were exchanged. Sam had done this song and dance so much he could sleepwalk through it.
They made their way down the hall, boarded the elevator, and rode it to the main lobby. Sam’s skin was itching, you’d think he’d be used to dried blood, but it never ceased to annoy him.
As they stepped outside he noticed Cas get a faraway look on his face and he froze.
“What’s wrong?” Dean blurted just before Sam could ask.
The former angel’s forehead was furrowed. “Something odd.”
“Cas. I just recently saw a mutant snake burrow out of a man’s chest. I’m gonna need a little more than odd,” Dean quipped.
Cas blinked, outstretched his hand, then closed his eyes. “Just a moment. I‘m sensing something, something I‘ve only felt around those creatures.”
Dean had his gun out in seconds, Sam was right behind him, searching the parking lot and the foliage that bordered the hospital.
Dean started to say something else, but Sam slapped his arm and mentally told him to shut up and let Cas do his thing.
Dean huffed, but kept his mouth shut.
Cas stepped forward, stopping in a section of flowers that lined the hospital grounds. He bent down slowly, his fingertips stretching towards some yellow and purple blooms. His eyes scrunched up, his nose wrinkled, his lips parted slightly and his hand stopped inches from the ground.
“Cas?” Sam said, uncertain whether to move closer or hold his ground.
“Do any of you have a bag?”
Sam started, he hadn’t seen that question coming. “Umm, yeah actually.” Sam pulled out a plastic Ziploc from his pocket, he liked to keep them on hand in case they needed to keep any evidence. He offered it to Cas. The former angel rustled around in the plants, then lifted the bag and showed it to them.
A whitish, thin, opaque material rested in the bottom.
“What the fuck is that shit?” His brother blurted.
“I believe it’s skin.”
Dean made a disgusted sound.
Sam knelt down next to Cas to get a closer look. Cas was right, it was similar to snake skin, he’d seen one in zoology back in high school.
“I agree with Cas. It could have come from our friend, looks the right size.”
Dean was hovering over them. “Are you telling me that thing is molting now?”
Sam nodded, angling his head upwards. “Yeah. I think so.”
“Does that help us?” Dean asked.
Sam glanced at Cas, his eyes worried.
“Well, it could mean it was changing somehow?”
“Changing how?” Dean’s tone rose slightly, his shoulders tensed.
“I don’t know Dean - but usually if a snake is shedding its skin it’s due to growth.”
Dean stood up straight, his gaze darting around the grounds. Sam felt Cas doing the same.
“Are you telling me in the past,” he glanced down at his cell phone, “two hours that thing has already gotten bigger?”
Sam shrugged. “Maybe. I’m guessing here; that thing wasn’t a snake, it could mean anything.”
“I hate this fucking case already.”
Sam nodded.
“Let’s get out of here and try and root through all the dog shit we’ve stepped in today.”
He and Cas rose, following Dean to the Impala.
The second they were settled inside, Dean started the car, and they headed into town towards a motel they’d seen on the way here.
Cas was examining the bag containing the discarded skin in the backseat, his face eerily focused, like he was trying to view it on a cellular level.
Dean’s grip on the steering wheel was white knuckled, and he hadn’t even turned his music on - a sure sign he was on edge.
Sam suppressed a sigh - he had a feeling this was just the beginning of a really long day.
*****
They arrived at the Matchbook Motel about ten minutes later just as the sun started to set. The place looked like the owners celebrated Christmas all year. Red and green neon lights illuminated the sign, reflecting off the hood of the Impala as Dean pulled into a space.
They’d stopped at drive-thru on the way, and Dean’s stomach was rumbling. He’d already eaten a few handfuls of fries.
Sam volunteered to get them a room - Dean let him. He wasn’t in the mood for the stares the motel’s clerk was bound to be shooting their way. Between the three of them, they looked like a horror movie on steroids.
Besides it would give him a few minutes alone time with their now only slightly feathery friend. Dean’s hand unconsciously drifted to the handprint seared into his flesh that had developed a mind of its own lately. It was quiet for the moment, seemingly content now that Cas was safe and in close proximity. Dean wanted to ask Cas about it, but at the same time he dreaded the answer.
Dean exhaled, turning slightly so that he could make out the top of Castiel’s head which was still bent forward, his focus on that weird material he’d found. Cas had been completely silent their entire way here; seemingly lost in whatever thoughts were flitting around in his brain.
“Yo, Cas. You find Ghandi in there or something?” Dean quipped.
Cas jerked, startled, his expression bewildered.
Dean suppressed a smile; he really would have missed these moments if Cas had truly been lost. The sick spasm of his gut, had Dean running away from that line of thinking. Cas wasn’t lost, he was right here. No need to brood over what might have been.
“Of course not,” he stuttered, a twinge of annoyance in his tone, “Ghandi’s dead.”
Dean chuckled. “Well, what then? Because the way you’ve been staring at that shit, I’m starting to wonder if you’ve got a thing for it.”
Cas raised his eyebrows; if he understood what Dean had been implying he ignored the jab. “I have been trying to figure out what it is…I’m not having much success.“
“What do you mean?”
I can sense its,” Cas pressed his lips into a thin line and concentrated, “energy.” Cas leaned forward, his hand coming to rest on the back of Dean’s seat. “All things feel different; I don’t know how else to explain it in human terms, but this, it’s wrong Dean.”
“Wrong like ketchup on ice cream, or wrong as in the world is going to implode in a cloud of fire and brimstone if we don’t stop it?”
Cas narrowed his eyes. “Wrong as in it doesn’t belong. I’m old, very old. I know what practically every animal, insect, supernatural creature, and plant feels like on this planet, and this doesn’t feel even remotely similar to any of those things.” Cas swallowed, his blue orbs going dangerous as they drifted to the bag dangling from his hand. “I don’t understand what this is, and quite frankly,” his gaze shot back to Dean, “it terrifies me.”
Dean forced his face to remain calm, and impassive. Inside he was twisted into knots, this case reeked of trouble, and anything that scared the piss out of a former warrior of God wasn’t something he looked forward to taking on in a fight.
“That sucks giant monkey balls.”
Cas nodded, his expression solemn.
Dean’s worry over his unusual connection to Cas faded into the background. “We’ll figure this out, Cas. We always do.” Dean shoved a confidence into his words he didn’t feel.
Judging by the way Cas was staring at him like he could see into his soul, he wasn’t fooled by the act.
Dean stared right back. He always gave Cas shit for doing crap like this. Standing too close, or staring for too long, but for some reason it was more reassuring today than anything. Maybe thinking he’d never see his weird friend, that lacked social skills again made him appreciate his strange quirks.
The door to the Impala flew open, breaking the staring contest, and Sam announced they had a room.
****
Cas entered the small room, and took in the two beds, the dirt stains and burns on the green carpeting, and the small table leaning awkwardly to one side near the only window along the wall nearest to the door. He wasn’t the best judge in human living arrangements, but this place didn’t seem to be in the best shape.
“Wow, this might just might make the top ten list of shit hotels we’ve stayed in,” Sam said, a sigh in his voice.
Dean snorted, then made a beeline for the bathroom in the back of the room, practically knocking Sam over in the process. The sound of water running filled the area.
“That may be so, but at least it has indoor plumbing.” The door slammed shut.
Sam smiled at Cas after mumbling a few curses, then asked if he’d help carry in the rest of the gear.
Cas obliged, happy to be useful.
****
An hour later everyone had eaten and showered including Cas. The eating had been easier than the bathing. Cas had discovered his love of red meat, and had promptly devoured his burger and fries. Afterwards he’d felt better, less tired, perhaps all he’d needed was a little “fuel,” as Dean called it.
He fumbled with the towel trying to get his hair to stop standing up, and waving in all directions. He only seemed to be making things worse; he patted at a piece that was standing at attention with his fingers, it would settle momentarily, then rise up again. Human grooming habits were another inconvenience he had not anticipated.
Sam and Dean made it look so simple. They had been showered, changed, and had their hair looking presentable in no time at all. Cas had struggled with finding the appropriate water temperature, fumbling with the dials until finally he had given up and bathed in barely warm water. The clothing Dean had loaned him was a tad large, but at least he’d been able to get it on faster this time.
But the hair - it seemed it enjoyed being messy.
“Oh for fuck’s sake.”
“Dean,” he heard Sam murmur.
“What? At this rate by the time we actually get around to swapping war stories, it won’t matter anymore because the freaking apocalypse will have happened!”
Cas turned away from the mirror, towel in one hand, the other hovering over his head, and faced the main room.
Dean sprung up off the bed, grabbed something from his bag, and marched over to him in three long strides.
He held the object up in front of Cas, waving it under his nose. “This, is a hair brush. It’s used to brush hair.”
Cas blinked, hesitantly reached for it, but apparently he went too slowly because Dean growled, put his hands on Cas’s shoulders, and spun him around so he was once again facing the mirror.
“Watch.” He words were harsh, impatient, but through the reflection in the mirror Cas could see his eyes, they were affectionate.
It was a contradiction, one with Dean he was getting used to seeing. You had to look past the surface, Dean said one thing, but his actions spoke otherwise.
He gently began running the brush through Cas’s hair, his movements careful. Cas watched as his seemingly unmanageable hair began to settle.
“There, now you try.” Dean held out the brush; Cas gripped it awkwardly hoping he wasn’t doing it wrong. An angel blade he could handle with flawless precision, but a hair brush wasn’t something they covered in heaven.
Before he began brushing, he noticed Sam grinning like an idiot from his perch on the bed, where he sat with his laptop cradled on his legs. He had his cell phone in his hand, and when he noticed Cas staring he lowered it quickly, an odd expression on his face.
Cas figured it was just some human thing he didn’t understand and did his best to imitate Dean’s movements.
Much to his relief, after several strokes the movement became less awkward and he figured out a decent rhythm.
When he was finished, he noticed Dean beaming behind him. “There you go feathers - I’ll make a man out of you yet.” A quick slap on the back and Dean sauntered over to the bed and flopped back down on it, making a contented sound.
Cas neatly folded his towel, laid it on the floor, and followed, sitting down near the foot of the bed.
Dean rubbed his hands together; Sam set his laptop aside.
“Now,” Dean said, “You start,” he motioned at Cas.
Cas took a deep breath and laid it all out for them.
*****
It took close to an hour but finally they were all on the same page information wise.
“So that dude you found in the woods, he must have died the same way as the poor fuck in the hospital.”
Cas nodded, he’d been about to state the same. “I think that’s a safe assumption.”
Sam was sitting cross-legged, drumming his fingers on his knee. “Let’s go over what we know. One there are at least two forms or variations of this creature.” Sam looked around, making sure they were in agreement.
Cas certainly was, he’s seen them both first hand. Dean nodded.
“Two. There’s most likely a third, or mature version of the one that burst from those men’s chest. Unless anyone has a better idea about the discarded skin we found.”
Dean growled, obviously not happy about there being an evolution of this monster they had no intelligence on yet. Cas could feel his fear that he was trying to cover with annoyance and anger. He was picking up on Dean’s emotion’s more and more, for some reason him becoming more human had strengthened their bond. It made no rational sense, with his grace being so weakened their connection should have followed suite. Instead it had bloomed to life, Cas didn’t understand it, but he didn’t mind it either.
“It was definitely from the creature, I could tell.” Cas stated.
Sam gave him a questioning stare.
“It’s an angel spider-sense, Sam. Cas can feel these things life force or something like that.”
Sam raised an eyebrow at Castiel. “Like how you detected the skin at the hospital?”
Cas nodded; Dean’s synopsis of what he could perceive was strange and crude, but sufficient.
“Alight, that settles that then, there is a third version of this thing.”
Cas pursed his lips and rubbed at his chin. “The one that attacked me in the woods, its tail left these bruises around my neck,” he gestured, angling his head so they could see clearly. “It was trying to reach my face, and I got the impression,” he shuddered, remembering the fear that had soared through him, “that it was trying to attach itself to me. Considering the two victims that had a creature grow within them had these same bruises, I don’t think it’s too much of a stretch to say that it was trying to implant one of those inside of me.” Cas tried to ignore the way his heart felt tight, he rubbed at his chest, grateful he hadn’t fallen to the same fate.
Dean and Sam looked at him, then at each other.
“That makes sense Dean.” Sam said, his color a bit paler than normal.
Dean cursed, then stood up and started to pace. “What the fuck are these things? Some kind of demonic parasite?”
“It’s not demonic Dean. I’m still angel enough to know that much.”
Dean stopped, bent over and began rummaging in his duffel, pulling out a tan journal. “Dad’s journal,” he mumbled before plopping back down.
“Nothing in there is going to help us Dean. We’ve both read it cover to cover more than once. There is nothing that comes even close to matching this things MO.”
“I don’t hear you coming up with any brilliant ideas?”
Sam sighed, grabbed his laptop and hit a few buttons. “Look, obviously they didn’t just appear out of thin air. Something had to have preceded their appearance.” Sam hit a few more keys. “I’m going to try and find out what that might have been. If we can figure out what triggered this, it might give us a clue as to what they are.”
It sounded reasonable to Cas.
“Is there anything I can do?” Cas hedged, hating sitting around doing nothing.
“Where’s that bag you mentioned, the one you found in the woods?” Dean asked, his tone calmer.
Cas stood and grabbed the denim pack from the floor where he’d laid it, offering it to Dean. “Ewwww, whatever was touching this has a major drooling problem.” Dean smirked, examining the viscous substance that was smattered along one side of the pack.
“It’s extremely sticky and stronger than you’d expect.” Cas stated his earlier observations.
“I can see that.” Dean leaned back from sniffing the stuff. “Yuck, it smells like ass.” Dean set it back on the floor. “Well, it seems to me we also know these things seem to hang out in those freaking woods. You almost got your face eaten off inside of it - I’m thinking that‘s where we should start.”
Sam made a sound of triumph.
They both turned his way.
“Something Bobby told me before we arrived got me thinking.” Sam licked his lips, his forehead scrunched in concentration ”There was a plane crash here about two weeks ago.”
Dean and Cas said nothing. Cas didn’t understand the connection, perhaps Dean didn’t either.
“Normally that wouldn’t sound like our kind of thing, but it crashed about a mile away from the section of woods where Cas was attacked. Seems a little coincidental to me.” He leaned forwards. “The plane was privately owned by a Weyland Corporation. It says here they wouldn’t let anyone help with the clean-up. They came in, and had everything squeaky clean in record time. Said they were transporting parts to one of their research sites in Denver, Colorado. Sounds a bit fishy to me.”
Dean smacked his lips together. “You’re thinking maybe they were transporting something they didn’t want anyone else to see?”
Sam raised his eyes. “You got a better theory?”
“Nope.”
“Can you find out anything else about this company?”
“Give me just a - son of a bitch.” Sam jostled his computer, slapping the side a few times. “Wireless is twitchy as hell here.”
“Gotta love technology.” Dean smirked.
****
Sam realized after about ten minutes that he was not going to be able to get a stable connection here, he’d noticed a library on the way into town, it was only about a five minute drive. He stood and announced he was going to head there and use their computers.
Besides, it was a good opportunity to give Dean and Cas some alone time to hopefully talk; or in Dean’s case, grunt a few words here and there. There wasn’t much downtime during a hunt, and soon they’d be hitting the forest and there wouldn’t be much time for communicating.
Although things seemed better between them than he’d thought they’d be - Cas was learning rapidly when it came to Dean’s brand of love. Still a little time to chat and heal any remaining wounds could never hurt.
And Sam knew just the way for an annoying younger brother to bring up the subject.
“I’ll be back in a few hours; why don’t you two use the time to check in with Bobby and repair your bromance.”
Dean sputtered, his head jerking to Sam’s, his eyes murderous.
“Sam,” Dean snarled. “Me and Cas do NOT have a bromance.”
“Really? You sure about that?“ Sam pulled out his cell phone and played back a video file he’d recorded earlier. He held it up, and footage of Dean brushing Cas’s hair played.
Dean’s eyes bulged, and his nostrils flared as he leapt from the bed grabbing for the phone, but Sam was faster, twisting out of the way. “I’ll leave you to it.” He darted from the room, pocketing Dean’s key’s from the table along the way.
“You better run!” Dean called after him, hanging half out the door.
As he walked he could just made out Cas asking, “Dean, what’s a bromance?”
“A close non-sexual relationship between two men.” Sam hollered back, while he chuckled all the way to the Impala.
****
“What’s a bromance?” Cas asked, his expression inquisitive and so very Cas.
Sam’s very loud response reached his ears.
Dean slammed the door shut. He was going to murder Sam.
Cas blinked, confusion and a trace of hurt flickering over his face. “The definition of close and non-sexual means friendship,” he swallowed. “You don’t consider me to be a friend?”
Fuck.
Cas just stood there looking at him like a kicked puppy. The handprint on his arm tingled, and Dean felt something that both scared him, and gave him the intense desire to hug the former angel. Dean hated opening up, he hated sharing, and for the most part he was not a hugger. But when you could actually freaking feel the emotional damage you had just inflicted on someone, it was next to impossible not to try and fix it.
“Dammit Cas,” he rubbed at the back of his neck.
And damn you Sam.
“Look,” Dean swallowed, and mentally reminded himself that Cas was going through a lot. He’d lost most of his grace, woken up alone in a hospital in pain, and he’d almost been implanted with some giant tape worm. He might not like reaching out, but Cas needed to hear this. He deserved to hear it. “Of course you’re my friend Cas,“ he managed, the urge to run from this line of conversation was hard to fight, but as much as Sam had pissed him off, he knew why his brother had nudged them this direction. He and Cas left a lot unsaid, neither of them were exactly open books with each other.
They had needed the push.
Cas sucked in a breath. “I’m relieved to hear that. I thought perhaps because of my lack of faith in you…,” his voice trailed off and he looked at the ground.
And here I was thinking I was the only one carrying around buckets of guilt on my back.
“Jesus, no Cas. I’m certainly not going to be the one throwing stones - I thought you understood that. And besides, it’s not like I gave you much to have faith in - the way I acted, you were right to doubt me.”
“No. I wasn’t.” His tone was certain, and bled shame.
“Cas,” Dean made a frustrated sound, and had to suppress the urge to crack a joke, or change the subject, but he fought it. “ I never thanked you for what you did. You walked right into that fucking warehouse - you say you lost faith in me - but in my book actions are more important.” Dean steeled himself, and forced the words out around the lump in his throat. “Despite me acting like a complete asshole, you still didn’t hesitate to help me, Sam, and even Adam.” Dean stepped closer, poking Cas’s shoulder gently until Cas lifted his gaze. “You were willing to die for me and Sammy. And I would do the same for you.”
Dean took a deep breath, and said what had been hovering over him like a fog. “You have nothing to feel guilty about.”
But I sure do.
Cas exhaled, then inhaled, his eyes shimmering. Astonishment, and relief written all over his face.
Shit. He really hoped Cas didn’t start crying; this was already hard enough without anyone getting all weepy.
But then Cas smiled that small, but real smile of his and Dean felt a lightness flit through him from the mark on his shoulder, and he knew this horribly awkward chick flick moment had been worth it.
“Thank you, Dean.”
Maybe he wouldn’t kill Sam just yet.
Cas stepped forward, invading his space. “And Dean, you have nothing to feel guilty about either.”
Dean coughed, backed away, and rubbed at his jaw, mumbling a quick thanks, while that sense of lightness began to envelop him as well.
Damn Sam, and his meddling. He would never tell him how well his little set-up had worked, and he hoped Cas wouldn’t either.
“Now let’s can this sap, fill Bobby in, and see if he’s got any ideas.”
****
Cas had listened via something called speaker phone while Dean brought the old hunter up to speed. Bobby had no theories, but he said he’d call around, and start hitting the books. The nervous edge to his voice surprised Cas, apparently this hunt was even strange enough to have Bobby a bit shook up.
Dean had just ended the call when his phone rang.
Dean sighed, making an unpleasant expression, before answering. He left it on speaker phone, telling Robin they were both on the line.
Her voice sounded drained, and sad. “I’ve got some bad news. A father and son who were out hunting have been reported missing.” He heard something rustling. “It was near the area I found you Castiel, the boy’s only ten years old.”
Dean cursed and his face darkened, and Cas felt the weight that had been settling in his stomach all day, grow.
“We’ll find them,” Dean replied, his voice as dark as his expression.
There was a sharp hiss. “No offense to the FBI, but I know that little boy, and I saw what was left of John Edge in his hospital room after that thing finished crawling out of him, so you’ll forgive me if I don’t share your confidence.”
Images of the body in the woods flashed in front of Cas’s eyes. Cas swallowed; he knew exactly what Robin had seen in that man’s room, and he could sympathize.
The sorrow, and pain in her tone evident. Cas reached out verbally, injecting as much compassion as possible into his words. “We’ll do everything we can to find them.”
Her rage seemed to vanish and was replaced by shame. “I’m sorry, I’m just - a bit overwhelmed,” she admitted. “I haven’t had this job long and…,” her voice trailed off, and Cas could hear her taking deep breaths. Her tone was calm and controlled as she continued. “My men are searching the woods for our missing father and son. I’ll let you know if we find anything.”
“Thanks Sheriff, we’re checking into a lead involving a plane crash a few weeks ago - you notice anything strange during that time?” Dean asked, his tone, and the way he leaned closer to the phone made Cas think he was very interested in her answer.
She was quiet for a few moments. “No.”
Dean raised an eyebrow, while his features darkened, then in the space of a heartbeat his expression relaxed. Cas felt puzzled, had he just missed something?
“But honestly,” Robin continued, tone level. “I never got near it. The owners had everything taken care of pretty fast. Why do you ask?”
“Probably nothing,” Dean replied and hung up without bothering to say goodbye.
Cas shot a displeased expression his way, Dean ignored him glancing at his watch.
“She saved my life, Dean.” Cas said, waiting for some type of explanation for Dean’s opinion of the officer.
A muscle in Dean’s jaw twitched. “I know that,” he said, his voice conversational, with a razor sharp edge dancing at the fringes. “There’s just something off about her.”
Cas hated this, even with their bond he couldn’t get a handle on the situation. Dean was a complicated hurricane of emotions, that conflicted, complemented, and assaulted one another. Sometimes the curtain would lift and Cas could see through the storm, but times like this, it was as if he were trying to find one drop of water in the ocean.
Impossible.
He opened his mouth to try and get Dean to clarify what he meant by ‘off.’
Dean didn‘t give him the opportunity. “Sam’s had long enough,” he barked. “I’m gonna check in with him - we need to get searching for those missing people.”
An image of a young boy screaming while one of those monsters crawled out of him assaulted Castiel, pushing his musings over Dean’s hostility towards Robin into the background, while making his eyes burn and his throat ache - damn human emotions. “I agree,” he was proud that his voice came out steady.
Dean was already dialing.
*****
Sam leaned back, stretching is arms up over his head, something popped. He made a few more notes, shoved them in his pocket and stood from the hard, wooden chair he’d been sitting in for the past two hours.
He nodded at the one other occupant, an elderly woman putting some books away, and headed for the exit. He’d pick the others some more food up on the way back, Cas could probably use it, and Dean, well he was always hungry.
He’d found out some interesting, but inconclusive information about Weyland Corporation. It had taken more finagling than he’d anticipated, for being one of the wealthiest in the world, they liked to keep their dealings quiet.
On the surface they were trying to challenge medical boundaries - arguing for more radical uses of Nanotechology. Pissing some of the scientific community off, and inspiring others.
That was just scratching the surface.
Through various searches, and hacking, he’d gotten enough to raise his suspicion meter up a few notches. The first was what this company seemed to be interested in - it was a sci-fi movie plot’s wet dream. They were actually theorizing the possibility of a fully human-looking Artificial Intelligence by the year 2023. It was in the very early stages and no actual physical application had been performed, it was all computer models, and math problems at this point, but still, they believed it was feasible.
Our tax dollars at work.
But what had really lit a fire under Sam’s ass, was their weapons research. They were very involved with developing new and horrible ways to kill people. Bio-weapons were a favorite of theirs. That was how they made their money, and they made a lot of it.
Sam’s working theory was the plane had probably been carrying a new form of weaponry - it would explain why they wouldn’t want anyone who wasn’t working for them near it.
He found receipts and invoices detailing the obscene amount of dry ice that had been brought on board, along with an order to reinforce the rear of the plane with enough steel and other metals to keep a stampede of elephants on board.
It was very odd.
What kind of weapon had to be kept on ice? And the way the engineer had drawn up the plans, it seemed like they were trying to keep something inside from getting out, more than they were worried about someone breaking into it.
He didn’t know what to think, but his gut told him this company was responsible for whatever was stalking the citizens of this town. There was nothing else, it was the only event that stood out, the only variable that didn’t fit.
Sam had seen a lot of shit in this line of work, sometimes you got so caught up in the monsters you forgot how insane and horrible the human race could be all on its own.
He’d walked out onto the steps when his phone rang, the caller ID read Dean.
Sam answered after the first ring, and immediately knew something else had gone wrong. Dean’s voice was a dead give away.
*****
Dean filled his brother in quickly, and Sam did the same, spilling all the juicy and bizarre facts about this company that Dean was really starting to dislike.
His gut agreed with Sam’s, that place stunk of trouble. The wrinkle in Cas’s nose as he listened in, said he agreed as well.
“Get your ass back here, and we’ll start the fun part of this freak show.”
“I’m almost to the car; I had to park a few blocks away, the pavement was all torn up near the library. They’re remodeling.”
“Perfect.”
“See you…what the he-”
“Sam, what’s wrong?” Dean leapt from the bed, panic racing through him.
A high pitched, screech that sent chills flowing along his spine, and reminded him of every nightmare he’d ever had echoed through the phone.
Sam screamed; Sam who had faced down shit that would make most people piss themselves.
“Sam!”
Cas gripped his shoulders and was saying something, but Dean couldn’t hear him over the blood pounding in his ears.
The line disconnected.
Next Chapter
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Title: Supernatural: Aliens
Author: nicole9514
Chapter: 5/?
Rating: R
Genre: AU/horror/action/crossover - Dean/Castiel pre-slash or friendship depending on preference
Characters: Dean Winchester,Castiel, Sam Winchester, and OC's
Warnings: Violence,language, gore, scary imagery, blood, death
Disclaimer: Only written for fun. I own nothing but the errors and OC's.
A/N: Goes AU after episode 5 X 18 - Team free will fic, but with a heavy focus on Dean/Cas friendship/strong bond, so if you don't like their dynamic you probably won't enjoy this fic.
Special Thanks: To my beta skylar_matthews. To jedakin for reading this fic and encouraging/motivating me to keep writing it.
Summary:Takes place after the events of Season five's Point of No return - Dean, Cas, and Sam investigate a case different than anything they've ever seen before in Gunnison, Colorado.
Wordcount: 7,371 (total so far 40,000)
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4
Cas could sense Sam and Dean’s fear filling the room. He was the closest to Sam, a terrifying moment after he saw a flash of movement from the pipes Cas rushed forward, crashing into Sam and shoving him out of the way.
The thing slammed into him, pain flared as something sharp dug into his chest, he grit his teeth as the already injured flesh throbbed.
Cas managed to get a grip on it, and felt…fur. It was soft and it writhed, struggling to wiggle away. Cas focused on the furry animal in front of him, and realized that he’d been ambushed by a cat. He let go, watching as it leapt from his arms.
The fat, orange feline scurried away, darting out of sight.
Dean snarled, cursed, and then started cracking up.
“That wasn’t funny Dean.” Cas felt his cheeks heat up, and he hated how his heart was racing, how his legs felt rubbery.
All because of a cat.
“No. It wasn’t.” Sam added, walking over and standing next to Cas.
“You two just got ambushed by Puss-in-boots.” Dean was grinning like an idiot. “That was friggin’ hilarious.”
“Really, because I seem to remember a certain time when a cat had you screaming like a little bitch,” Sam smirked.
“That was the damn ghost sickness and you know it,” Dean grumbled.
Sam grinned, and turned towards Cas ignoring Dean‘s comment. He seemed to be good at that. “Thanks, man.”
“For what,” Cas hated the sulk that crept into his voice. Embarrassment was not fun.
“Hey, you thought you were jumping in the way of a dangerous monster - it’s the thought that counts.”
Cas looked down at his now torn shirt, and sighed. He had just started getting used to it. “You’re welcome.”
“Let’s get this done.” Sam took point again, and moved forward.
*****
The rest of the search was uneventful. They’d scoured the area for the better part of an hour with no result.
They’d found several vents, one along the floor, one on the ceiling, none of them were damaged.
The creature was not here.
Which meant it must have found another way out - Cas felt his nerves flare up again - it could be anywhere.
He could only pray they could locate it before someone else got hurt.
“Let’s go check in with the Sheriff, then figure out our next move from there.” Sam said running a hand through his hair.
The trio headed back into the elevator, Cas licked his lips, and leaned against the wall. Fatigue rearing its head, his body wasn’t happy with all he had put it through today. He found himself longing for a place to sit down for few minutes, then shame at his inability to handle one day on a hunt with human limitations while Dean and Sam did this all the time ate at him.
Cas found himself fiddling with his now torn t-shirt, a new nervous habit apparently.
“Here, take this,” Dean’s voice distracted him from his internal self-loathing and he pulled his gaze away from his attire.
Dean was holding out a black, slim wallet - one that seemed familiar.
The former angel reached out and took it, his fingers brushing Dean’s briefly, but it was enough to pick up his friends quiet concern. Dean was worried about him, there was more, but there were too many warring emotions for Cas to get anything else but vague impressions.
Still, knowing Dean cared enough to worry over him was a soothing balm over the feeling’s of inadequacy he couldn’t shake. He was afraid that in his state if something were to happen - he wouldn’t be fast enough, or strong enough to save his friends.
He feared failing them more than anything.
Cas met Dean’s eyes.
A common human expression was that the eyes were the windows to the soul; he’d always believed it was an incredibly inaccurate and silly one. The soul was invisible to human’s, made of things that they couldn’t see or comprehend - but today he realized how wrong he had been.
What he saw there - he finally understood.
Cas saw a million emotions, fears, and thoughts flickering in those green orbs that were fixated on him. And he would have bet what little he had left of his grace that Dean knew exactly what he was thinking - that he somehow knew what Castiel was afraid of - because Dean understood and lived with the same fear.
Dean blinked, and the moment was gone, but Castiel knew that what he’d seen and sensed had been real. Knowing he wasn’t alone in his fear somehow made it easier to live with.
He felt himself relax, as he opened the item, almost smiling as he realized it was the same badge Dean had given him to use months ago when he’d first learned the value of telling a lie - and that you should never mention anyone’s father in a den of inequity. It read Castiel Gordon.
Dean was smirking when he looked back at him, and Cas got the feeling he was thinking about that day as well.
“Me and Sam have a cover story for you, just roll with it and things will be fine.”
Cas nodded.
“And make sure you face it the right way this time,” Dean quipped.
Cas felt a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Sam looked back and forth between them, confusion evident on his features.
The door opened, the moment they emerged Robin was in their face, her features strained.
“Did you find anything?”
“Nope,” Dean said, “Thing wasn’t there.”
She pursed her lips, and pulled them off to the side. In the time they’d been gone a crime scene had been set up by the vent, yellow tape blocked off the area, and a team of cops were taking samples around the area.
“Now - first things first. I’m afraid I need to verify who you are, and what you’re doing here?” She managed a tight smile. “No offense, but none of you fit my mental image of the FBI.”
Cas wondered if she meant the clothes. Last time he and Dean had posed as law enforcement agents Dean had rented a black suit, telling him you needed to look the part. T-shirts and jeans may not have been convincing attire.
Sam chuckled. “Yeah, we forgot our suits at home. Would you mind if we went somewhere more private to talk.”
She nodded, and took them to a small office down the hall, closing the door after they stepped inside.
“Show her your badge, Cas.” Dean thumped him on the back as soon as they were inside.
Cas reached inside his jacket pocket and pulled out the fake badge, sporting his photo, and identifying him as an FBI agent. Cas caught Dean’s amused expression as he made sure to turn it the proper way before holding it out for her to see.
She nodded, curiosity evident on her soft features.
He put it away when Dean’s foot nudged his; before Robin could get a word in Dean launched into an explanation.
Cas listened as they explained to her that he was an undercover agent with the FBI and he had been tracking a terrorist who had been rumored to have been heading this way.
When she asked who the person was, they politely, but firmly told her it was classified, but that it was all under control, and they’d apprehended him a few days ago.
He had been injured during pursuit and after waking up here, he’d called to let them know why he had been out of contact for so long.
They had been ordered to head here immediately to check on him.
Cas had thought he had been doing a decent job of lying, but Sam and Dean, they were amazing. If anyone else had told the tale, it probably would have come off as fake, but they sold it. It was clear they were completely at ease with the deception, and very experienced at it. If Cas hadn’t know it was all made up, he would have believed them.
Their expressions, the worry in their tones when they talked about being out of contact with him. It felt real, and Cas couldn’t help but wonder if there was some truth mixed in with the lie.
In the end Sam pulled out a small, white card and handed it to Robin. “That’s our boss’s direct line, he’ll verify our story.”
Dean mouthed Bobby to Cas while he watched transfixed as Robin left the room, dialing the number.
“Anybody hungry?” Dean blurted as soon as the door closed. “I’m freaking starving; chasing chupacabra’s always works up my appetite.” He rubbed his stomach.
Sam snorted. “ I think we all need to sit down, fill each other in, and try to figure out what the hell is terrorizing this town.”
Dean shrugged. “Is there some rule that says we can’t eat while we do that?”
Cas felt a smile fighting to emerge - spending time with these two was never dull.
******
Sam studied Robin’s expression and body language when she walked back in five minutes later. Everything from the set of her shoulders, to the softening of her eyes told him she’d bought their act. Bobby must have done his job because she smiled at them all.
“Ya’ll check out.”
Sam was about to relax completely when her gaze went to Castiel.
“I am curious, why didn’t you say something earlier, back in the woods?”
Shit.
He could feel Dean tensing near him, Cas was not used to this lifestyle. Coming up with lies at the drop of a hat were not a strength of his.
Cas smiled softly. “Old habits die hard,” he replied calmly before licking his lips. “It can be hard to let go of who we’ve been for so long.”
She nodded, then reached out gripping Castiel‘s arm briefly, understanding clear on her face.
Sam felt for his friend, he hadn’t missed the truth in his words - or the expression he’d learned from Dean.
Cas learned fast - Sam had a feeling despite his recent loss he was going to be just fine in the end. He just needed a little help from his friends.
Dean’s face was a mask like usual, but Sam knew his brother and he saw the flicker of emotion in his eyes, a little twitch at the corner of his mouth. All signs that he hadn’t missed the longing in Cas’s voice when he’d spoken of having a hard time letting go of who he’d been.
Then the signs were gone, and Dean was sporting his usual lazy grin.
“My men have this place locked down.” Robin brushed her bangs out of her face. “Why don’t you all go get a bit of rest, get cleaned up, and I’ll call you if anything comes up.”
“Sounds good to me.” Dean said.
Sam had to agree, besides they really needed a little alone time to catch up, and get their ducks in a row. A part of him wanted to jump right in and try to find these things, but he knew that might get them killed. Besides they had no idea what was going on, if they could figure out what was doing this, it might help them to find the creatures faster rather than just tromping around aimlessly.
Basic information and the promises of keeping each other in the loop were exchanged. Sam had done this song and dance so much he could sleepwalk through it.
They made their way down the hall, boarded the elevator, and rode it to the main lobby. Sam’s skin was itching, you’d think he’d be used to dried blood, but it never ceased to annoy him.
As they stepped outside he noticed Cas get a faraway look on his face and he froze.
“What’s wrong?” Dean blurted just before Sam could ask.
The former angel’s forehead was furrowed. “Something odd.”
“Cas. I just recently saw a mutant snake burrow out of a man’s chest. I’m gonna need a little more than odd,” Dean quipped.
Cas blinked, outstretched his hand, then closed his eyes. “Just a moment. I‘m sensing something, something I‘ve only felt around those creatures.”
Dean had his gun out in seconds, Sam was right behind him, searching the parking lot and the foliage that bordered the hospital.
Dean started to say something else, but Sam slapped his arm and mentally told him to shut up and let Cas do his thing.
Dean huffed, but kept his mouth shut.
Cas stepped forward, stopping in a section of flowers that lined the hospital grounds. He bent down slowly, his fingertips stretching towards some yellow and purple blooms. His eyes scrunched up, his nose wrinkled, his lips parted slightly and his hand stopped inches from the ground.
“Cas?” Sam said, uncertain whether to move closer or hold his ground.
“Do any of you have a bag?”
Sam started, he hadn’t seen that question coming. “Umm, yeah actually.” Sam pulled out a plastic Ziploc from his pocket, he liked to keep them on hand in case they needed to keep any evidence. He offered it to Cas. The former angel rustled around in the plants, then lifted the bag and showed it to them.
A whitish, thin, opaque material rested in the bottom.
“What the fuck is that shit?” His brother blurted.
“I believe it’s skin.”
Dean made a disgusted sound.
Sam knelt down next to Cas to get a closer look. Cas was right, it was similar to snake skin, he’d seen one in zoology back in high school.
“I agree with Cas. It could have come from our friend, looks the right size.”
Dean was hovering over them. “Are you telling me that thing is molting now?”
Sam nodded, angling his head upwards. “Yeah. I think so.”
“Does that help us?” Dean asked.
Sam glanced at Cas, his eyes worried.
“Well, it could mean it was changing somehow?”
“Changing how?” Dean’s tone rose slightly, his shoulders tensed.
“I don’t know Dean - but usually if a snake is shedding its skin it’s due to growth.”
Dean stood up straight, his gaze darting around the grounds. Sam felt Cas doing the same.
“Are you telling me in the past,” he glanced down at his cell phone, “two hours that thing has already gotten bigger?”
Sam shrugged. “Maybe. I’m guessing here; that thing wasn’t a snake, it could mean anything.”
“I hate this fucking case already.”
Sam nodded.
“Let’s get out of here and try and root through all the dog shit we’ve stepped in today.”
He and Cas rose, following Dean to the Impala.
The second they were settled inside, Dean started the car, and they headed into town towards a motel they’d seen on the way here.
Cas was examining the bag containing the discarded skin in the backseat, his face eerily focused, like he was trying to view it on a cellular level.
Dean’s grip on the steering wheel was white knuckled, and he hadn’t even turned his music on - a sure sign he was on edge.
Sam suppressed a sigh - he had a feeling this was just the beginning of a really long day.
*****
They arrived at the Matchbook Motel about ten minutes later just as the sun started to set. The place looked like the owners celebrated Christmas all year. Red and green neon lights illuminated the sign, reflecting off the hood of the Impala as Dean pulled into a space.
They’d stopped at drive-thru on the way, and Dean’s stomach was rumbling. He’d already eaten a few handfuls of fries.
Sam volunteered to get them a room - Dean let him. He wasn’t in the mood for the stares the motel’s clerk was bound to be shooting their way. Between the three of them, they looked like a horror movie on steroids.
Besides it would give him a few minutes alone time with their now only slightly feathery friend. Dean’s hand unconsciously drifted to the handprint seared into his flesh that had developed a mind of its own lately. It was quiet for the moment, seemingly content now that Cas was safe and in close proximity. Dean wanted to ask Cas about it, but at the same time he dreaded the answer.
Dean exhaled, turning slightly so that he could make out the top of Castiel’s head which was still bent forward, his focus on that weird material he’d found. Cas had been completely silent their entire way here; seemingly lost in whatever thoughts were flitting around in his brain.
“Yo, Cas. You find Ghandi in there or something?” Dean quipped.
Cas jerked, startled, his expression bewildered.
Dean suppressed a smile; he really would have missed these moments if Cas had truly been lost. The sick spasm of his gut, had Dean running away from that line of thinking. Cas wasn’t lost, he was right here. No need to brood over what might have been.
“Of course not,” he stuttered, a twinge of annoyance in his tone, “Ghandi’s dead.”
Dean chuckled. “Well, what then? Because the way you’ve been staring at that shit, I’m starting to wonder if you’ve got a thing for it.”
Cas raised his eyebrows; if he understood what Dean had been implying he ignored the jab. “I have been trying to figure out what it is…I’m not having much success.“
“What do you mean?”
I can sense its,” Cas pressed his lips into a thin line and concentrated, “energy.” Cas leaned forward, his hand coming to rest on the back of Dean’s seat. “All things feel different; I don’t know how else to explain it in human terms, but this, it’s wrong Dean.”
“Wrong like ketchup on ice cream, or wrong as in the world is going to implode in a cloud of fire and brimstone if we don’t stop it?”
Cas narrowed his eyes. “Wrong as in it doesn’t belong. I’m old, very old. I know what practically every animal, insect, supernatural creature, and plant feels like on this planet, and this doesn’t feel even remotely similar to any of those things.” Cas swallowed, his blue orbs going dangerous as they drifted to the bag dangling from his hand. “I don’t understand what this is, and quite frankly,” his gaze shot back to Dean, “it terrifies me.”
Dean forced his face to remain calm, and impassive. Inside he was twisted into knots, this case reeked of trouble, and anything that scared the piss out of a former warrior of God wasn’t something he looked forward to taking on in a fight.
“That sucks giant monkey balls.”
Cas nodded, his expression solemn.
Dean’s worry over his unusual connection to Cas faded into the background. “We’ll figure this out, Cas. We always do.” Dean shoved a confidence into his words he didn’t feel.
Judging by the way Cas was staring at him like he could see into his soul, he wasn’t fooled by the act.
Dean stared right back. He always gave Cas shit for doing crap like this. Standing too close, or staring for too long, but for some reason it was more reassuring today than anything. Maybe thinking he’d never see his weird friend, that lacked social skills again made him appreciate his strange quirks.
The door to the Impala flew open, breaking the staring contest, and Sam announced they had a room.
****
Cas entered the small room, and took in the two beds, the dirt stains and burns on the green carpeting, and the small table leaning awkwardly to one side near the only window along the wall nearest to the door. He wasn’t the best judge in human living arrangements, but this place didn’t seem to be in the best shape.
“Wow, this might just might make the top ten list of shit hotels we’ve stayed in,” Sam said, a sigh in his voice.
Dean snorted, then made a beeline for the bathroom in the back of the room, practically knocking Sam over in the process. The sound of water running filled the area.
“That may be so, but at least it has indoor plumbing.” The door slammed shut.
Sam smiled at Cas after mumbling a few curses, then asked if he’d help carry in the rest of the gear.
Cas obliged, happy to be useful.
****
An hour later everyone had eaten and showered including Cas. The eating had been easier than the bathing. Cas had discovered his love of red meat, and had promptly devoured his burger and fries. Afterwards he’d felt better, less tired, perhaps all he’d needed was a little “fuel,” as Dean called it.
He fumbled with the towel trying to get his hair to stop standing up, and waving in all directions. He only seemed to be making things worse; he patted at a piece that was standing at attention with his fingers, it would settle momentarily, then rise up again. Human grooming habits were another inconvenience he had not anticipated.
Sam and Dean made it look so simple. They had been showered, changed, and had their hair looking presentable in no time at all. Cas had struggled with finding the appropriate water temperature, fumbling with the dials until finally he had given up and bathed in barely warm water. The clothing Dean had loaned him was a tad large, but at least he’d been able to get it on faster this time.
But the hair - it seemed it enjoyed being messy.
“Oh for fuck’s sake.”
“Dean,” he heard Sam murmur.
“What? At this rate by the time we actually get around to swapping war stories, it won’t matter anymore because the freaking apocalypse will have happened!”
Cas turned away from the mirror, towel in one hand, the other hovering over his head, and faced the main room.
Dean sprung up off the bed, grabbed something from his bag, and marched over to him in three long strides.
He held the object up in front of Cas, waving it under his nose. “This, is a hair brush. It’s used to brush hair.”
Cas blinked, hesitantly reached for it, but apparently he went too slowly because Dean growled, put his hands on Cas’s shoulders, and spun him around so he was once again facing the mirror.
“Watch.” He words were harsh, impatient, but through the reflection in the mirror Cas could see his eyes, they were affectionate.
It was a contradiction, one with Dean he was getting used to seeing. You had to look past the surface, Dean said one thing, but his actions spoke otherwise.
He gently began running the brush through Cas’s hair, his movements careful. Cas watched as his seemingly unmanageable hair began to settle.
“There, now you try.” Dean held out the brush; Cas gripped it awkwardly hoping he wasn’t doing it wrong. An angel blade he could handle with flawless precision, but a hair brush wasn’t something they covered in heaven.
Before he began brushing, he noticed Sam grinning like an idiot from his perch on the bed, where he sat with his laptop cradled on his legs. He had his cell phone in his hand, and when he noticed Cas staring he lowered it quickly, an odd expression on his face.
Cas figured it was just some human thing he didn’t understand and did his best to imitate Dean’s movements.
Much to his relief, after several strokes the movement became less awkward and he figured out a decent rhythm.
When he was finished, he noticed Dean beaming behind him. “There you go feathers - I’ll make a man out of you yet.” A quick slap on the back and Dean sauntered over to the bed and flopped back down on it, making a contented sound.
Cas neatly folded his towel, laid it on the floor, and followed, sitting down near the foot of the bed.
Dean rubbed his hands together; Sam set his laptop aside.
“Now,” Dean said, “You start,” he motioned at Cas.
Cas took a deep breath and laid it all out for them.
*****
It took close to an hour but finally they were all on the same page information wise.
“So that dude you found in the woods, he must have died the same way as the poor fuck in the hospital.”
Cas nodded, he’d been about to state the same. “I think that’s a safe assumption.”
Sam was sitting cross-legged, drumming his fingers on his knee. “Let’s go over what we know. One there are at least two forms or variations of this creature.” Sam looked around, making sure they were in agreement.
Cas certainly was, he’s seen them both first hand. Dean nodded.
“Two. There’s most likely a third, or mature version of the one that burst from those men’s chest. Unless anyone has a better idea about the discarded skin we found.”
Dean growled, obviously not happy about there being an evolution of this monster they had no intelligence on yet. Cas could feel his fear that he was trying to cover with annoyance and anger. He was picking up on Dean’s emotion’s more and more, for some reason him becoming more human had strengthened their bond. It made no rational sense, with his grace being so weakened their connection should have followed suite. Instead it had bloomed to life, Cas didn’t understand it, but he didn’t mind it either.
“It was definitely from the creature, I could tell.” Cas stated.
Sam gave him a questioning stare.
“It’s an angel spider-sense, Sam. Cas can feel these things life force or something like that.”
Sam raised an eyebrow at Castiel. “Like how you detected the skin at the hospital?”
Cas nodded; Dean’s synopsis of what he could perceive was strange and crude, but sufficient.
“Alight, that settles that then, there is a third version of this thing.”
Cas pursed his lips and rubbed at his chin. “The one that attacked me in the woods, its tail left these bruises around my neck,” he gestured, angling his head so they could see clearly. “It was trying to reach my face, and I got the impression,” he shuddered, remembering the fear that had soared through him, “that it was trying to attach itself to me. Considering the two victims that had a creature grow within them had these same bruises, I don’t think it’s too much of a stretch to say that it was trying to implant one of those inside of me.” Cas tried to ignore the way his heart felt tight, he rubbed at his chest, grateful he hadn’t fallen to the same fate.
Dean and Sam looked at him, then at each other.
“That makes sense Dean.” Sam said, his color a bit paler than normal.
Dean cursed, then stood up and started to pace. “What the fuck are these things? Some kind of demonic parasite?”
“It’s not demonic Dean. I’m still angel enough to know that much.”
Dean stopped, bent over and began rummaging in his duffel, pulling out a tan journal. “Dad’s journal,” he mumbled before plopping back down.
“Nothing in there is going to help us Dean. We’ve both read it cover to cover more than once. There is nothing that comes even close to matching this things MO.”
“I don’t hear you coming up with any brilliant ideas?”
Sam sighed, grabbed his laptop and hit a few buttons. “Look, obviously they didn’t just appear out of thin air. Something had to have preceded their appearance.” Sam hit a few more keys. “I’m going to try and find out what that might have been. If we can figure out what triggered this, it might give us a clue as to what they are.”
It sounded reasonable to Cas.
“Is there anything I can do?” Cas hedged, hating sitting around doing nothing.
“Where’s that bag you mentioned, the one you found in the woods?” Dean asked, his tone calmer.
Cas stood and grabbed the denim pack from the floor where he’d laid it, offering it to Dean. “Ewwww, whatever was touching this has a major drooling problem.” Dean smirked, examining the viscous substance that was smattered along one side of the pack.
“It’s extremely sticky and stronger than you’d expect.” Cas stated his earlier observations.
“I can see that.” Dean leaned back from sniffing the stuff. “Yuck, it smells like ass.” Dean set it back on the floor. “Well, it seems to me we also know these things seem to hang out in those freaking woods. You almost got your face eaten off inside of it - I’m thinking that‘s where we should start.”
Sam made a sound of triumph.
They both turned his way.
“Something Bobby told me before we arrived got me thinking.” Sam licked his lips, his forehead scrunched in concentration ”There was a plane crash here about two weeks ago.”
Dean and Cas said nothing. Cas didn’t understand the connection, perhaps Dean didn’t either.
“Normally that wouldn’t sound like our kind of thing, but it crashed about a mile away from the section of woods where Cas was attacked. Seems a little coincidental to me.” He leaned forwards. “The plane was privately owned by a Weyland Corporation. It says here they wouldn’t let anyone help with the clean-up. They came in, and had everything squeaky clean in record time. Said they were transporting parts to one of their research sites in Denver, Colorado. Sounds a bit fishy to me.”
Dean smacked his lips together. “You’re thinking maybe they were transporting something they didn’t want anyone else to see?”
Sam raised his eyes. “You got a better theory?”
“Nope.”
“Can you find out anything else about this company?”
“Give me just a - son of a bitch.” Sam jostled his computer, slapping the side a few times. “Wireless is twitchy as hell here.”
“Gotta love technology.” Dean smirked.
****
Sam realized after about ten minutes that he was not going to be able to get a stable connection here, he’d noticed a library on the way into town, it was only about a five minute drive. He stood and announced he was going to head there and use their computers.
Besides, it was a good opportunity to give Dean and Cas some alone time to hopefully talk; or in Dean’s case, grunt a few words here and there. There wasn’t much downtime during a hunt, and soon they’d be hitting the forest and there wouldn’t be much time for communicating.
Although things seemed better between them than he’d thought they’d be - Cas was learning rapidly when it came to Dean’s brand of love. Still a little time to chat and heal any remaining wounds could never hurt.
And Sam knew just the way for an annoying younger brother to bring up the subject.
“I’ll be back in a few hours; why don’t you two use the time to check in with Bobby and repair your bromance.”
Dean sputtered, his head jerking to Sam’s, his eyes murderous.
“Sam,” Dean snarled. “Me and Cas do NOT have a bromance.”
“Really? You sure about that?“ Sam pulled out his cell phone and played back a video file he’d recorded earlier. He held it up, and footage of Dean brushing Cas’s hair played.
Dean’s eyes bulged, and his nostrils flared as he leapt from the bed grabbing for the phone, but Sam was faster, twisting out of the way. “I’ll leave you to it.” He darted from the room, pocketing Dean’s key’s from the table along the way.
“You better run!” Dean called after him, hanging half out the door.
As he walked he could just made out Cas asking, “Dean, what’s a bromance?”
“A close non-sexual relationship between two men.” Sam hollered back, while he chuckled all the way to the Impala.
****
“What’s a bromance?” Cas asked, his expression inquisitive and so very Cas.
Sam’s very loud response reached his ears.
Dean slammed the door shut. He was going to murder Sam.
Cas blinked, confusion and a trace of hurt flickering over his face. “The definition of close and non-sexual means friendship,” he swallowed. “You don’t consider me to be a friend?”
Fuck.
Cas just stood there looking at him like a kicked puppy. The handprint on his arm tingled, and Dean felt something that both scared him, and gave him the intense desire to hug the former angel. Dean hated opening up, he hated sharing, and for the most part he was not a hugger. But when you could actually freaking feel the emotional damage you had just inflicted on someone, it was next to impossible not to try and fix it.
“Dammit Cas,” he rubbed at the back of his neck.
And damn you Sam.
“Look,” Dean swallowed, and mentally reminded himself that Cas was going through a lot. He’d lost most of his grace, woken up alone in a hospital in pain, and he’d almost been implanted with some giant tape worm. He might not like reaching out, but Cas needed to hear this. He deserved to hear it. “Of course you’re my friend Cas,“ he managed, the urge to run from this line of conversation was hard to fight, but as much as Sam had pissed him off, he knew why his brother had nudged them this direction. He and Cas left a lot unsaid, neither of them were exactly open books with each other.
They had needed the push.
Cas sucked in a breath. “I’m relieved to hear that. I thought perhaps because of my lack of faith in you…,” his voice trailed off and he looked at the ground.
And here I was thinking I was the only one carrying around buckets of guilt on my back.
“Jesus, no Cas. I’m certainly not going to be the one throwing stones - I thought you understood that. And besides, it’s not like I gave you much to have faith in - the way I acted, you were right to doubt me.”
“No. I wasn’t.” His tone was certain, and bled shame.
“Cas,” Dean made a frustrated sound, and had to suppress the urge to crack a joke, or change the subject, but he fought it. “ I never thanked you for what you did. You walked right into that fucking warehouse - you say you lost faith in me - but in my book actions are more important.” Dean steeled himself, and forced the words out around the lump in his throat. “Despite me acting like a complete asshole, you still didn’t hesitate to help me, Sam, and even Adam.” Dean stepped closer, poking Cas’s shoulder gently until Cas lifted his gaze. “You were willing to die for me and Sammy. And I would do the same for you.”
Dean took a deep breath, and said what had been hovering over him like a fog. “You have nothing to feel guilty about.”
But I sure do.
Cas exhaled, then inhaled, his eyes shimmering. Astonishment, and relief written all over his face.
Shit. He really hoped Cas didn’t start crying; this was already hard enough without anyone getting all weepy.
But then Cas smiled that small, but real smile of his and Dean felt a lightness flit through him from the mark on his shoulder, and he knew this horribly awkward chick flick moment had been worth it.
“Thank you, Dean.”
Maybe he wouldn’t kill Sam just yet.
Cas stepped forward, invading his space. “And Dean, you have nothing to feel guilty about either.”
Dean coughed, backed away, and rubbed at his jaw, mumbling a quick thanks, while that sense of lightness began to envelop him as well.
Damn Sam, and his meddling. He would never tell him how well his little set-up had worked, and he hoped Cas wouldn’t either.
“Now let’s can this sap, fill Bobby in, and see if he’s got any ideas.”
****
Cas had listened via something called speaker phone while Dean brought the old hunter up to speed. Bobby had no theories, but he said he’d call around, and start hitting the books. The nervous edge to his voice surprised Cas, apparently this hunt was even strange enough to have Bobby a bit shook up.
Dean had just ended the call when his phone rang.
Dean sighed, making an unpleasant expression, before answering. He left it on speaker phone, telling Robin they were both on the line.
Her voice sounded drained, and sad. “I’ve got some bad news. A father and son who were out hunting have been reported missing.” He heard something rustling. “It was near the area I found you Castiel, the boy’s only ten years old.”
Dean cursed and his face darkened, and Cas felt the weight that had been settling in his stomach all day, grow.
“We’ll find them,” Dean replied, his voice as dark as his expression.
There was a sharp hiss. “No offense to the FBI, but I know that little boy, and I saw what was left of John Edge in his hospital room after that thing finished crawling out of him, so you’ll forgive me if I don’t share your confidence.”
Images of the body in the woods flashed in front of Cas’s eyes. Cas swallowed; he knew exactly what Robin had seen in that man’s room, and he could sympathize.
The sorrow, and pain in her tone evident. Cas reached out verbally, injecting as much compassion as possible into his words. “We’ll do everything we can to find them.”
Her rage seemed to vanish and was replaced by shame. “I’m sorry, I’m just - a bit overwhelmed,” she admitted. “I haven’t had this job long and…,” her voice trailed off, and Cas could hear her taking deep breaths. Her tone was calm and controlled as she continued. “My men are searching the woods for our missing father and son. I’ll let you know if we find anything.”
“Thanks Sheriff, we’re checking into a lead involving a plane crash a few weeks ago - you notice anything strange during that time?” Dean asked, his tone, and the way he leaned closer to the phone made Cas think he was very interested in her answer.
She was quiet for a few moments. “No.”
Dean raised an eyebrow, while his features darkened, then in the space of a heartbeat his expression relaxed. Cas felt puzzled, had he just missed something?
“But honestly,” Robin continued, tone level. “I never got near it. The owners had everything taken care of pretty fast. Why do you ask?”
“Probably nothing,” Dean replied and hung up without bothering to say goodbye.
Cas shot a displeased expression his way, Dean ignored him glancing at his watch.
“She saved my life, Dean.” Cas said, waiting for some type of explanation for Dean’s opinion of the officer.
A muscle in Dean’s jaw twitched. “I know that,” he said, his voice conversational, with a razor sharp edge dancing at the fringes. “There’s just something off about her.”
Cas hated this, even with their bond he couldn’t get a handle on the situation. Dean was a complicated hurricane of emotions, that conflicted, complemented, and assaulted one another. Sometimes the curtain would lift and Cas could see through the storm, but times like this, it was as if he were trying to find one drop of water in the ocean.
Impossible.
He opened his mouth to try and get Dean to clarify what he meant by ‘off.’
Dean didn‘t give him the opportunity. “Sam’s had long enough,” he barked. “I’m gonna check in with him - we need to get searching for those missing people.”
An image of a young boy screaming while one of those monsters crawled out of him assaulted Castiel, pushing his musings over Dean’s hostility towards Robin into the background, while making his eyes burn and his throat ache - damn human emotions. “I agree,” he was proud that his voice came out steady.
Dean was already dialing.
*****
Sam leaned back, stretching is arms up over his head, something popped. He made a few more notes, shoved them in his pocket and stood from the hard, wooden chair he’d been sitting in for the past two hours.
He nodded at the one other occupant, an elderly woman putting some books away, and headed for the exit. He’d pick the others some more food up on the way back, Cas could probably use it, and Dean, well he was always hungry.
He’d found out some interesting, but inconclusive information about Weyland Corporation. It had taken more finagling than he’d anticipated, for being one of the wealthiest in the world, they liked to keep their dealings quiet.
On the surface they were trying to challenge medical boundaries - arguing for more radical uses of Nanotechology. Pissing some of the scientific community off, and inspiring others.
That was just scratching the surface.
Through various searches, and hacking, he’d gotten enough to raise his suspicion meter up a few notches. The first was what this company seemed to be interested in - it was a sci-fi movie plot’s wet dream. They were actually theorizing the possibility of a fully human-looking Artificial Intelligence by the year 2023. It was in the very early stages and no actual physical application had been performed, it was all computer models, and math problems at this point, but still, they believed it was feasible.
Our tax dollars at work.
But what had really lit a fire under Sam’s ass, was their weapons research. They were very involved with developing new and horrible ways to kill people. Bio-weapons were a favorite of theirs. That was how they made their money, and they made a lot of it.
Sam’s working theory was the plane had probably been carrying a new form of weaponry - it would explain why they wouldn’t want anyone who wasn’t working for them near it.
He found receipts and invoices detailing the obscene amount of dry ice that had been brought on board, along with an order to reinforce the rear of the plane with enough steel and other metals to keep a stampede of elephants on board.
It was very odd.
What kind of weapon had to be kept on ice? And the way the engineer had drawn up the plans, it seemed like they were trying to keep something inside from getting out, more than they were worried about someone breaking into it.
He didn’t know what to think, but his gut told him this company was responsible for whatever was stalking the citizens of this town. There was nothing else, it was the only event that stood out, the only variable that didn’t fit.
Sam had seen a lot of shit in this line of work, sometimes you got so caught up in the monsters you forgot how insane and horrible the human race could be all on its own.
He’d walked out onto the steps when his phone rang, the caller ID read Dean.
Sam answered after the first ring, and immediately knew something else had gone wrong. Dean’s voice was a dead give away.
*****
Dean filled his brother in quickly, and Sam did the same, spilling all the juicy and bizarre facts about this company that Dean was really starting to dislike.
His gut agreed with Sam’s, that place stunk of trouble. The wrinkle in Cas’s nose as he listened in, said he agreed as well.
“Get your ass back here, and we’ll start the fun part of this freak show.”
“I’m almost to the car; I had to park a few blocks away, the pavement was all torn up near the library. They’re remodeling.”
“Perfect.”
“See you…what the he-”
“Sam, what’s wrong?” Dean leapt from the bed, panic racing through him.
A high pitched, screech that sent chills flowing along his spine, and reminded him of every nightmare he’d ever had echoed through the phone.
Sam screamed; Sam who had faced down shit that would make most people piss themselves.
“Sam!”
Cas gripped his shoulders and was saying something, but Dean couldn’t hear him over the blood pounding in his ears.
The line disconnected.
Next Chapter
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