[SPN] feel the freedom like no tomorrow (2b/7)
← part a ←
The sun's setting down when they do finally arrive at their destination and Jimmy has to narrow his eyes as he squints past the flare of yellow-orange over the horizon to make out the familiar buildings now coming ever closer to him from the distance. For a moment he feels the burst of hope swelling up inside of him as he sees the familiarity of his neighbourhood-but that's quickly squashed as his mind unhelpfully reminds him of all the uncertainties of his current situation. There's no way that this is going to go smoothly. Jimmy swallows nervously, ducking his head to keep himself as inconspicuous as possible as the van nears closer towards the edges of his neighbourhood, where his fate awaits him.
“Um,” he starts, hesitating, because there's no way he going to be able to explain this in a wholly rational matter. “You can just drop me off here; I'll be able to get the rest of the way myself.” Please just say yes and we can be on our nice, separate ways.
Unfortunately, Jimmy's luck can only run for so long.
“It's fine,” Kortez replies instead with an accompanying wave of his hand, and Jimmy feels his hopes swiftly sinking down like a stone in water. “Making sure that you're safe back home is the most important thing now. I'll only be able to put my mind at ease then.”
This is just the beginning of my troubles, believe me. “You really don't need to do that, Evans,” Jimmy returns, but even he can hear how useless his voice is now at this moment.
The dark-skinned man rolls his eyes in response, slowing down over at the next corner while he speaks. “Kortez, please. After all this time, I would have hoped that we'd already be on a first name basis.”
“Kortez,” Jimmy starts again, anxiety now in his voice as he looks out of the window and starts worrying the corner of his bottom lip as their destination drew all the more closer. He's really starting to get a bad feeling about this, and it's hard to ignore how his senses were all but screaming for him to get out out OUT; if that isn't a sign, then he really doesn't know what else is. “You really should just drop me here and get away.” He pauses, taking a moment to catch his breath and then explain before Kortez can ask any questions. “Something really bad is going to happen soon and I don't want you to get involved in it.”
A raised eyebrow is what he gets in response, and Jimmy has half a mind to bash his head against the most convenient wall as Kortez responds. “It can't be any worse than what happens in jail,” he says, voice light and totally the opposite of what Jimmy had been hoping otherwise.
Taking a breath to calm himself down, Jimmy looks at the dark-skinned man and starts very seriously. “Kortez. You helped me when I needed it, and now I am trying to repay that favour. I have no idea what will happen the moment people here see me because somewhere out there is a guy with-”
“Glory be to our God!”
“Fuck,” Jimmy swears emphatically right at the same when a hand slaps itself palm-first against the window of the van, and the face soon rises up to accompany that hand. A moment passes by before Jimmy links a name of the face he sees-Mrs. Davidson, right from three doors over. He remembers the wavy, auburn hair and her vaguely sharp nose that's now pressed against the glass of the van window. Her blue eyes, usually quiet and gentle, now instead light up in some sort of crazed, fanatical brainwashed frenzy, and her breaths fog up the part of the window she's pressing her pudgy face right up against.
Right beside him, Kortez seems to be just as stunned as Jimmy is, dark eyes going wide as he shirks back a little. He stares at the woman and then at Jimmy with thinly-veiled shock on his features for a few beats before his mouth moves, the words starting to form on his lips. “Jimmy, what’s going on-” he starts to say, but there’s another thump from Kortez’s side of the van this time and the jumps again. Both men dart their head in the other direction, watching the slightly-bald man also now pressing his face against the window panel and staring right at Jimmy without even so much as pausing to blink.
“Glory to God in the highest,” he hears the man chanting out, the hymn echoing hollowly in his ears as Mrs. Davidson does the same from the other side, her words in sync with the other. “And peace to His people on Earth.”
The Gloria. Jimmy knows it as well by heart, having always said it during Sunday masses. It’s always been one of his favourite things to say in worship, but right now this isn’t worship at all-no, this is just madness, chaotic and horrible and utterly fucking crazy. Castiel must have done something to the neighbourhood here, something that Jimmy really doesn’t want to think about; the mere idea of what he might have done only brings up bile in his throat, and Jimmy can’t help but take a moment to just think: Damnit, Cas, just what the heck happened to you?
There were no answers coming back to him, of course-not that Jimmy had been expecting any (that would have been a lot worse, he thinks), but peering through the window now Jimmy can see figures of other people now starting to gather around them. Heck, it wouldn’t even be too far-fetched to assume that the entire neighbourhood is slowly circling around them. Jimmy only takes a second to decide on his next course of action. He turns around to Kortez and speaks, the words leaving him in a hurried hiss. “Let’s get out of here!” He could only hope that Amelia and Claire would be alright, wherever they were-because there is no way that he can go and check on them now, not with his neighbourhood going crazy like this.
The words seem to prompt Kortez into action, at least, and the dark-skinned man quickly nods an affirmative before reaching for the ignition, starting the van and wasting no time in busting out the gas pedal. Jimmy lets out a yelp of surprise when he feels the entire van lurching for a second before it starts speeding off, mercilessly throwing people down to the road when it does so. In other situations Jimmy would really be sorry for that, but right now his main concern was pretty much to ensure his own sanity and survival.
“You know, I would have fucking appreciated a heads up about something like this,” Kortez snaps from beside him, sounding very reasonably pissed off and also some parts shaken by what had just happened-and to be honest, Jimmy can’t exactly blame him for that. “How do you even live there?”
Jimmy forces a smile, and it’s not exactly a very reassuring one. “It’s a long story.”
Kortez curses under his breath, all semblance of nice ex-convict pretty much gone now as he glances at the rear-view window. “Is this about your double on the news?”
“Ye-” Jimmy starts, then stops as the words properly digest into his head and he whips around to stare at Kortez with wide eyes. “Wait a minute, you knew?”
“Your face is printed on almost every fucking thing I’ve been reading ever since I got out,” the dark-skinned man snaps back again as his eyes stick to the road. “You could have told me you had a crazy twin brother, you know. I won’t judge.”
Jimmy doesn’t know if he should cry or laugh at this moment-he really feels like doing both at the same time. Instead all he does is to make a face and respond in a weak mutter. “I don’t really know how to explain it.”
“Then do,” is all that Kortez snarls back out in return before he abruptly turns the steering wheel around and Jimmy yelps out in surprise again as the van lurches once more when it does a complete three-sixty revolution on the road, tires screeching as the rubber burns against tarmac.
Straightening himself back up, Jimmy regains his composure and looks over to Kortez, who is looking back at him likewise. Jimmy takes a breath, pushing back down the uncomfortable feeling rising up from his throat and manages to rasp out to the other. “Can we just talk about this later?”
Kortez gives him another look in return, but the moment soon passes and the dark-skinned man turns back to the road. “Later,” he echoes, a confirmation of sorts.
Jimmy nods. “Later,” he agrees; he owes the other that much now, at least, for doing all of this. Later, he'll tell Kortez everything he knows. But right now, all he really wants to do is to get out of here as soon as possible, and as quickly as he can.
Kortez, however, doesn't seem to have the same sentiments-the van remains stationery, and the other's dark eyes peer over the flare of the setting sun, tilting his head just slightly as he squints. “Your family's inside there, right?” he asks after a pause, and things instantly click in Jimmy's head then.
“Yes, bu-wait!” he shouts, reaching out with a hand to still Kortez before the man can start the van up again. Kortez looks at Jimmy with raised eyebrows at the action, but remains silent and allows Jimmy to continue speak (which he does, in a hurried fluster). “We can't go back in there, its suicide!”
All Kortez does in response is to give a very flat and unimpressed look at Jimmy. “Then are you going to just leave your family there?”
“Well-no, but-”
“Then we're going,” Kortez says with finality, mouth set into a grim line as he shoves Jimmy's hands off him and promptly presses down onto the gas pedal. The van lurches once more before it starts to speed off, the engine thrumming violently under Jimmy's feet as Kortez truly puts the pedal to the metal. Needless to say, everything about this is a very bad idea, but Jimmy knows that Kortez has a point-he can't just abandon Amelia and Claire in that crazy place, not like this. He had to get them out.
Grabbing the handhold on top of him to steady himself, Jimmy looks over to Kortez and shouts at him. “Once this is over, remind me to get you a six-pack!”
Kortez lets out one of his usual snorts in response. “I don't drink,” he says before his eyes suddenly widen and the dark-skinned man abruptly swivels the van to the right. Jimmy yelps in surprise as he feels the van swaying from the force of that turn, twisting his head around to see just what had happened to have Kortez suddenly shift the van like that.
“Some crazy dude running out onto the street,” Kortez answers the question for Jimmy, scowling visibly as he straightens the van back on the road. “Would have knocked him down if I hadn't-”
“Kortez!” Jimmy shouts out, pointing as he sees another person going out onto the street. Kortez instantly reacts, hand flying to the gear stick as he switches gears and presses down on the brake-the van doesn't lurch this time, but Jimmy can feel the shift in gravity as Kortez effortlessly pulls out a drift like those he had seen in Hollywood movies. It's almost a bit surreal experiencing it in a situation like this, and Jimmy can feel his heart beating loudly in his chest as Kortez eases out of the drift, quickly returning back to the proper road and speeding up.
Jimmy looks over towards Kortez when he can get his breaths again, and the dark-skinned man only shrugs helplessly. “Guess you know what I got in the slammer for.”
Gulping down a breath, Jimmy takes a moment more to calm down before he manages to reply. “Right now, I can't really bring myself to care.” Because seriously? Right now, Kortez's crazy Hollywood-like driving skills were pretty much all they had to accomplish anything in here.
God, they're so screwed.
“Glad to know,” Kortez remarks back dryly before he glances out of the window again, eyes narrowing as he turns back to Jimmy. “You're going to have to direct me to where your house is, or else I'm going to burn out the rubber before we can get to your family. These tires ain't going to hold for long.”
Jimmy sucks in another breath and nods, ignoring the now-darkening skies as he looks at their surroundings, matching his memory to what he's seeing now and giving out directions. “Go straight for two turns and then take the first left after that.”
Kortez makes a hum in return and presses his foot down onto the pedal again. “Alright, let's go.”
The way over to his house is strangely silent, and the lack of anything happening is what sets Jimmy's alarms off, every instinct now screaming at him at the sheer wrongness of what he and Kortez are seeing-or rather, what they are not seeing. It's too quiet, too peaceful, and nothing about this situation is right at all.
As they cross the final stretch of road to where the Novak residence lies just ahead, Jimmy shifts around nervously, glancing past the windows and just waiting for some more of those crazed fanatics to start jumping out from nowhere. The silence unsettles him more than anything else-the unnatural stillness is worrying. Jimmy worries his bottom lip with his teeth, fingers flexing reflexively against the material of his now heavily-worn pants. The tension is rising with each passing second, and it’s starting to get on the edge of unbearable; Jimmy isn't sure just how much more of waiting, of this anticipation that he can take.
Kortez easily notes the restlessness that Jimmy is displaying, letting out a huff of breath as the dark-skinned man tightens his grip on the steering wheel. Jimmy may not be an expert in body language in the way Kortez is, but even he can figure out that the other is also nervous-something he can't really blame him for. It's not every day when you just so happen to pick up the astounding lookalike of the being going around the world and proclaiming himself 'God'. In fact, it would have almost been funny if it wasn't the fact that it's currently happening to them right now.
His house stands the same as the last time he had seen it-about three years ago, if he remembers correctly-although the sigh does nothing to ease the nervousness still rising up in Jimmy's gut. Kortez is silent as he pulls the van up onto the driveway, putting the vehicle on hold but refusing to kill off the engine in case they required a hasty escape; it’s a plan that Jimmy can readily agree to.
“Should I come along?” Kortez asks, quiet concern audible in his voice as he frowns, clearly debating.
Even though Jimmy knows that the help would be appreciated (and maybe even important), he shakes his head anyway. “No-its fine. I'll go in by myself.”
The frown on Kortez's face deepens, the expression showing quite plainly that he did not agree, but the man still nods after a pause, although he does have a few words of his own to speak out after that. “Five minutes, then I'll come in as well.”
It's not the best plan and a lot of things can go wrong in five minutes, but Jimmy takes his chances all the same and acknowledges Kortez's words with a nod. “Five minutes,” he echoes back, understanding, pushing down the lump in his throat as he says that and reaches for the door handle. Despite his growing nerves Jimmy manages to get out of the van successfully, pointedly ignoring the way his feet shakes and how his knees feel like buckling under his weight at any given moment. Even Jimmy knows that he’s nothing much than a bundle of nerves now, useless against anything that might be out to gank him, but he has to do this. Needs to see things for himself before he can truly move on, and go about his next move.
The path to his front door suddenly seems too long when Jimmy always remembers it being much shorter instead, every step almost too little for his tastes. Reaching the front steps of his house seems to take an eternity of its own, and Jimmy’s nerves are shot by the time he’s actually there. He gulps again, slowly steeling himself and reaches for the door handle with clammy hands, feeling the cool metal against his fingers.
Now or never, Novak, Jimmy thinks to himself and proceeds to suck in a breath, pulling out a burst of strength to open the door and step right into the house before he can stop himself; he lets go of the door handle as he enters, and the resounding slam that comes after that almost sounds like a finality of its own. The sound still echoes in his ears as Jimmy looks around the place, eyes slowly adjusting into the darkness of his house; nothing’s on as far as he can tell, but it always pays to be cautious. Letting out a hiss of breath Jimmy starts to move, the floorboards creaking obscenely loud under his feet with each step that he takes, the sound causing him to wince. It’s quiet; far too quiet even for this time of night, and the fact that the door isn’t locked is a major cause for concern. Had something happened to Amelia and Claire already?
No, he can’t think that now. Jimmy does a quick shake of his head to dislodge the thoughts, focusing back to the task at hand as he moves past the living room and heads for the stairs while pointedly ignoring the loud taps of his shoes against the floor. Jimmy pauses at the foot of the stairs, looking upwards to the second floor as he worries his bottom lip once more. He hears the sound of his own breathing in the still silence of the place, the thudding of his heart in his chest as another bout of nervousness washes over him. The first floor is devoid of anybody but himself; Jimmy can figure that much out, at least. The upper floor, though… who knew? Anything might happen, and Jimmy really doesn’t want to meet anything because he’s not equipped to handle anything at all.
Or maybe-
Jimmy looks away from the top of the stairs to glance around his surroundings, attempting to find something that he could arm himself with. Maybe something that’s preferably iron-made-at least if there’s a ghost, he’d be able to get it away. If it’s a human, he could knock said person out with a properly-executed blow. Still, Jimmy does hope that there’s really nothing up there ready to kill him. He’s not trained for these things.
After a bit of rummaging around, Jimmy eventually manages to find a golf club in the stand of the living room-it’s been years since he’s actually touched the set sitting there, and Jimmy distinctly remembers having made plans to throw it away now. Right now he’s very glad that it didn’t happen, because only God (the real God, if he’s even around) knows how much he needs this right now.
Now armed with a golf club in his hand, Jimmy does feel slightly better as he returns to the stairs with it and after another moment’s hesitation, starts to climb up. The golf club is heavy and highly unwieldy in his (sweaty) hands, but it’s the best thing that Jimmy’s got right now and now he pretty much needs to have all the luck he can get. The stairs creak under his weight as Jimmy climbs up step by step, eyes focused at the top while he steadies his hands to ensure that he’s holding the club properly, gulping all the while. He’s nearly there now, just a few more steps and-
Jimmy reaches the top and stops, stilling again as he strains his ears and eyes in a bid to try and take notice of anything strange that might happen. He waits, nervous and edgy, as a moment beats by, and then two followed by a few more before Jimmy can determine that he’s safe and relaxes a bit. He starts walking again, footsteps echoing loudly in the hallway as Jimmy goes to where the master bedroom is-where he and Amelia used to be in, happy to live their lives until ‘destiny’ had changed things forever between them.
Now wasn’t the time for regrets and the ‘what ifs’, though; Jimmy gets to his bedroom, where the door has been left open. He pauses at the threshold once more, composing himself before he cautiously reaches out to the doorknob and pushes against it with his fingers. The door swings open without interruptions, bouncing off the wall ever so slightly when it hits. Like the rest of the house the room is dark and quiet-although if anything, the silence only seems far more intense and heavy in his ears as Jimmy carefully treads inside, eyes narrowing as he tries to make out something through the dim moonlight shining through the window.
“Ames?” he calls out, his voice leaving him in a near-whisper. Jimmy pauses, takes a deep breath, and then tries again (this time with more volume). “Amelia?” Jimmy inches more into the room, the handle of the golf club slippery in his palms as he feels sweat starting to drip from his temples and rolling down his neck, his back, his arms, his hands. Jimmy feels the tension building up again, rising within him like a wave and threatening to overwhelm him entirely; his heartbeat pounds in his chest and between his temples, every thud resounding in his ears like the beats of a drum. It sounds in time with his footsteps as Jimmy makes himself move, walking to the bed and unconsciously reaching out to touch the sheets, giving himself a moment to indulge on the small comfort of seeing his home again after three years.
Three years. It's hard to believe the amount of time that's passed even until now. Three years since the disastrous outcome of his reunion with his family, three years since he's made the choice to fully serve as Castiel's vessel-three years since he's passed on. Three years, and the world had already shifted, changed and moved on without him. Three years, and everything he knows has fallen into absolute, chaotic, utter madness.
Jimmy closes his eyes and lets out a loud breath, pushing away the flood of emotions that's threatening to wash over him. His hand skims across the surface of his bed, fingertips and palm brushing over the smooth material of the bedspread, relishing in the warm familiarity of his room. If there's one thing he hasn't quite forgotten yet, it’s the comforting feel that his room gives him.
Suddenly the smooth texture of the bedspread is interrupted by something else entirely, and Jimmy opens his eyes back to look at where his hand is. He raises it up, blinking when he sees the piece of paper lying there where his hand had been, and the man takes a moment to debate on his decision before he moves to pick the paper up. He reaches to the bedside table and promptly flicks the table lamp on, the glow of the light just enough for Jimmy to make out the familiar handwriting (Amelia's, he realizes with a jolt) as he reads the letter now in his hand.
Jimmy:
I don't know if you'll actually ever come back here, but all the same I think you deserve to know, somehow, at least. I feel that I owe you this much, after... last time.
Both of us-Claire and I-we've gone into hiding. I don't know if you do know what's happened, but the angel-Castiel-he's been going around the neighbourhood converting the people here to worship him. I don't know what he's doing or if Castiel is even aware of the things that he is doing, but our lives in the last few weeks have not been good. He's wearing your body, Jimmy, and everyone's starting to link Castiel to us. I'm afraid to imagine just what exactly Castiel intends to do, but seeing him going around, hearing him on the news... I don't know, Jimmy, but I only feel that something wrong is going to happen.
Before you start asking me, I don't blame you for this. I don't think anybody would have guessed that this would happen. All the same, though, it’s no longer safe for Claire and I to remain here, so we've moved. An acquaintance has agreed to take us in and keep us safe until all of this blows over. He's an old friend of mine, and I trust him-so you don't need to worry, Jimmy.
I'm sorry I doubted you back then, but now I guess I know better. I'll keep Claire safe as much as I can-she misses you a lot, Jimmy, and I really hope that we can finally see each other again in peace.
Amelia
As he finishes reading the last words of the letter Jimmy lets out a shaky breath he wasn't even aware he had been holding back, barely registering the fact that his hand is trembling as he sets the letter down onto the bedside table. He lets his hand fall back to his side once the paper is placed onto the table, closing his eyes as Jimmy sucks in a breath. They're not here, then. He won't get to see them. But they're okay and they're safe, and that's the most important thing right now.
The sudden sound of pounding footsteps brings Jimmy out of his thoughts, and the man tenses up as the sound comes closer and closer to where he is. He gets back up, golf club ready in hand as Jimmy starts to raise it up, prepared to strike the moment the intruder enters the room-but manages to stop himself just in time when he realizes that its Kortez who's barging into the place.
“We need to-Jimmy!” the dark-skinned man yelps out, quickly backing off the moment he sees Jimmy with the golf club, eyes wide in surprise.
“Sorry,” Jimmy quickly replies, hastening to lower down the club in his hand. The tenseness doesn't ease up, though-if Kortez is here, then there's a good chance that something is wrong; he's half-certain that his five minutes weren't up yet. He looks back to the other, frowning. “What's wrong?”
Kortez jerks a thumb behind him in response, his voice clipped as he answers the question. “Trouble, and lots of it. The fanatics are starting to swarm around here. I had to abandon the van, since there's no way we'll be getting out through the drive way now.” As if to highlight the authenticity of Kortez's words, the door downstairs starts to thump loudly, the living room echoing with the never-ending beat of countless fists. From where they stand Jimmy can hear the shouts and cries of the fanatics, hearing their chants of 'God, give us salvation!' and other stuff that Jimmy really didn't want to hear.
Jimmy tears himself away from the noise and focuses back to Kortez, who looks just as spooked out as he is and none too certain on their next course of action. “I really hope you have a back door out of here, or we're going to have to jump through the window,” the dark-skinned man says very dryly.
Grimacing visibly at the remark, Jimmy debates on their options as the thumping grows louder from below. Heading downstairs would be a risky option, considering the situation, and while his house did have a back way out Jimmy's pretty certain that the route wasn't going to be open to them, especially if they're going to be up against the people familiar with this neighbourhood. Only one way out, then.
“We're jumping out of the window,” Jimmy faintly hears the sound of his own voice saying the words as he looks at Kortez, staring at him in the same way that he remembers Castiel staring at Dean in their earlier days. It's giving him a weird sense of déjà vu, and Jimmy notes it clinically before filing it aside; he can think about this later, once he's actually away from this.
Kortez, to his credit, does nothing more than blink a few times at Jimmy's words, but does nothing more than that and nods after a pause. “Well,” he starts, taking a breath, “This is your crazy neighbourhood. Where are we going to jump out from?”
“My daughter's bedroom,” Jimmy instantly replies, already starting to move as he speaks. “We can jump over from the ledge there.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Kortez returns, although Jimmy can't help but note the dark amusement lacing his voice as the man adds on after he's out of the room. “Albeit just as crazy as this entire situation is.”
Jimmy can only snort mildly in response.
Claire's room is just as untouched as his had been when they enter the place, although Kortez pauses for a moment to whistle at the sight that greets him-particularly at the fancy, near-ostentatious way the room's been furnished. “Your kid's one pampered princess,” comes the remark.
Jimmy rolls his eyes in return, although a small part of him does wince a bit at the spoken words. “She's my only kid,” he returns pointedly, and says nothing more on the matter as he glances around, finding the correct window to get out of-once he does find it, Jimmy opens the window, mentally apologizing to his daughter as he takes off the lamp that's on the bedside table and unceremoniously tosses it to the bed. The bangs get louder and far more insistent with each passing moment, and Jimmy doesn't allow himself even a second to hesitate as he passes the golf club to Kortez and clambers up the bedside table, starting to put his leg out of the window.
Koretz's dark eyes flicker from Jimmy to out of the door, where now Jimmy hears the sound of wood and metal banging against each other. “The barricade's not going to hold for long,” the dark-skinned man mutters as he looks back at Jimmy, and he nods in return, quickly climbing through the window and emerging out onto the roof of the balcony. Now that he's properly outside Jimmy can hear the chanting loud and clear, the voices of the crowd below coming out as one as Jimmy hears nothing but exaltation and praises and everything else that is not him.
He looks back at Kortez who's also now making his way out via the window, and the dark-skinned man only spares a moment to look at Jimmy before he scowls and shouts at him. “What're you still standing there for? Start moving!”
That's something that doesn't need to be told twice; Jimmy nods in response and turns to face the ledge that stands before him-his destination, separated by a gap that's about two to three feet wide and nearly thrice as high. All in all, it’s really not the most favourable conditions for him. Still, this is the only way he has out of here, and Jimmy knows that he has to take it.
Below him Jimmy hears the door breaking open and the barricade falling apart, and Koretz curses loudly before he shouts at Jimmy again, the urgency now much more audible in his voice. “Go now, Jimmy! Go!”
No more time to think, now; Jimmy forces himself to move in spite of shaky legs, keeping his gaze fixed upon the opposite ledge as he pushes into a run, sprinting across the short length of the balcony before he jumps, a cry tearing out from his throat as his feet leave the ledge and there's nothing else but the air. He sails across, hanging in nothing but air for a few intense seconds. It feels somewhat otherworldly, the sensation a bit akin to flying, and for a moment Jimmy feels himself disconnecting from his own body. The moment soon passes, however, and suddenly Jimmy's back in his body properly, his heart leaping up to his mouth as he begins to fall back to the ground, dragged down by the weight of gravity.
Crap crap crap- Jimmy thinks to himself in a rush, squeezing his eyes shut as the man braces himself for the painful impact of his body hitting the ground and possibly breaking a good number of bones in the process. The wind howls in his ears, catching in his jacket and then Jimmy lands, hitting uncomfortably against the floor, the edges of the tiles digging painfully into his arms and back.
Wait a minute.
Tiles?
Jimmy opens his eyes, blinking at the sight of tiles that greet his vision, and moves to push himself back up. It takes a second to realize that he has made the jump, even if his entire body is now sore and aching from the rough landing. Relief instantly courses through him the moment the realization properly settles within him, and Jimmy turns back to his house to start calling out to Kortez. “Kortez-” He stops instantly the moment he properly turns back, eyes widening in shock as his mind registers the sight of Kortez being dragged back into the room, the dark-skinned man snarling and kicking as he attempts to dislodge himself. “Kortez!” Jimmy calls out again, louder this time round, feet already moving before he realizes it.
Kortez looks back at Jimmy, never pausing in his struggle as his dark eyes flash at him and the man shouts back at him. “Don't care about me, just get out of here!”
“But-” Jimmy starts, at a loss on what to say, but Kortez cuts back to the chase and shouts at him again.
“Just go, damnit! Don't make me regret helping you.”
Jimmy clenches his jaw, trying to ignore the hot sting of tears forming at the corners of his eyes as he steps back, giving Kortez what he knew would be one last final look. “I'm sorry,” he croaks out, voice suddenly raw and almost broken.
Kortez says nothing in return and only gives one of his small, wry smiles. Jimmy takes a few more steps back before his own fear betrays him, and the man turns around, breaking out into another run as he hears Kortez's voice roaring into the evening skies.
“You're going to have to kill me to get your stupid God-lookalike back, assholes!”
It's ledge after ledge after ledge-Jimmy's just constantly running without pause, working on his own fear and adrenaline as he runs and jumps as far as his legs can take him. It's tiring and he's tired as hell, but yet Jimmy doesn't allow himself to stop, only continuing to push himself forward. He can't stop now, not after the sacrifice that Kortez has made for him-a sacrifice that he most certainly did not deserve, not by a man who had been looking forward to his life after prison. Now he's gone and it’s up to Jimmy to shoulder the responsibility of that death, to ensure that the sacrifice had not been in vain.
I need to find a car first, the man thinks to himself, assembling the semblance of a plan in his head as he runs. Get out of this place, somehow locate the Winchesters and then- his thoughts are abruptly cut off as Jimmy stumbles in his pace, the momentum of his run carelessly dragging him forward as Jimmy miscalculates his footing and before he realizes it, he's slipping off the edge with a shout and plummeting down quickly towards the ground.
Shit! He swears out before the reality hits him, the possibility of how he's going to break a good number of things when he lands and how he'll be unable to escape the Castiel fanatics swarming around from him. They're bound to find him sooner or later, and then who knew what would happen next once they did-but whatever it was, Jimmy does not want to know. He squeezes his eyes shut, bracing himself for the painful, unforgiving impact-
“I should have figured you'd be doing something crazy like this.”
Jimmy feels the world shifting around him, the displacement of air and sound as everything changes in his senses, and the next thing Jimmy knows he's landing softly against a mattress, barely a bump on his body as he half-sinks into it. The man gives himself a few seconds before he opens his eyes back up, now finding himself staring at a flicking light bulb swaying with a lamp that's hanging from the ceiling. Faintly, a part of him registers the smell of oil in the distance, but that's quickly banished by the fact that he vaguely recognizes this place. Jimmy quickly pushes himself up, eyes darting around as he tenses, ready to spring out and dart away when he has to.
“No need to worry, Jimmy-boy,” a voice drawls from nearby. “You're safe here.”
“Who's there?” Jimmy instantly snaps back, eyes narrowing as he turns his head in the direction of where the voice had come from, although he sees nothing at all; instantly his suspicions rise, and Jimmy clenches his jaw, eyes narrowing.
The voice sighs, sounding clearly unimpressed at the words. “Is that how you're supposed to thank the guy who saved your life?” it retorts back in turn, and Jimmy really doesn’t like the way the voice sounds so particularly snarky and sure of himself.
“Why would you-” he starts to ask, but the sound of hurried footsteps interrupt his question and Jimmy turns his attention to the doorway, tensing up even more as they come closer to where he is.
“What's going on-” a voice begins, but then stops as a familiar figure appears at the door and Jimmy can't help but stare in absolute shock at the sight of Dean Winchester who's now frozen on the spot and staring right back at him. There's a pause, and then two, and then tentatively, the hunter speaks. “…Cas?”
Jimmy attempts to move his mouth and speak, but Sam Winchester (who had come up with Dean) beats him to the punch, eyes narrowing. “…Jimmy?”
Dean looks towards Sam with obvious surprise on his features, but Jimmy forces down the lump in his throat and manages to speak. “You got it right in two,” he croaks out, feeling the giant wave of relief that's about to wash out of him. The Winchesters. He’s with the Winchesters.
Both hunters turn to stare at him for a moment, all three of them too taken aback to say anything else. The silence stretches on for a few moments before it’s broken by the voice from earlier. It sighs again without warning, the sound making all of them jump. “Now are you two satisfied?” it asks, drawling once more.
Jimmy's still not very sure what's going on, but the hunters exchange looks between each other for a second with grim looks on their faces, and Sam's the one who speaks again once the moment passes between the brothers. “Gabriel?”
Gabriel? The man echoes in his head, eyes widening as he follows the direction of Sam's gaze to stare in shock at the small-sized, brown-haired man who’s just abruptly appeared and now made his place against the wall, leaning against it as he directs a small grin towards both Sam and Dean.
“The one and only,” he states, amusement dripping from his voice as he gives another brief look at Jimmy before turning back to the hunters. “Now do you believe me?”
Dean glances at Jimmy this time too, and Jimmy can't help but look back as the older Winchester closes his eyes and lets out a loud hiss of breath through his nose, shifting his gaze back to the newcomer and replies with a scowl. “Alright, Gabriel, we believe you. Now fill us in.”
→ two: try to praise the mutilated world →
The sun's setting down when they do finally arrive at their destination and Jimmy has to narrow his eyes as he squints past the flare of yellow-orange over the horizon to make out the familiar buildings now coming ever closer to him from the distance. For a moment he feels the burst of hope swelling up inside of him as he sees the familiarity of his neighbourhood-but that's quickly squashed as his mind unhelpfully reminds him of all the uncertainties of his current situation. There's no way that this is going to go smoothly. Jimmy swallows nervously, ducking his head to keep himself as inconspicuous as possible as the van nears closer towards the edges of his neighbourhood, where his fate awaits him.
“Um,” he starts, hesitating, because there's no way he going to be able to explain this in a wholly rational matter. “You can just drop me off here; I'll be able to get the rest of the way myself.” Please just say yes and we can be on our nice, separate ways.
Unfortunately, Jimmy's luck can only run for so long.
“It's fine,” Kortez replies instead with an accompanying wave of his hand, and Jimmy feels his hopes swiftly sinking down like a stone in water. “Making sure that you're safe back home is the most important thing now. I'll only be able to put my mind at ease then.”
This is just the beginning of my troubles, believe me. “You really don't need to do that, Evans,” Jimmy returns, but even he can hear how useless his voice is now at this moment.
The dark-skinned man rolls his eyes in response, slowing down over at the next corner while he speaks. “Kortez, please. After all this time, I would have hoped that we'd already be on a first name basis.”
“Kortez,” Jimmy starts again, anxiety now in his voice as he looks out of the window and starts worrying the corner of his bottom lip as their destination drew all the more closer. He's really starting to get a bad feeling about this, and it's hard to ignore how his senses were all but screaming for him to get out out OUT; if that isn't a sign, then he really doesn't know what else is. “You really should just drop me here and get away.” He pauses, taking a moment to catch his breath and then explain before Kortez can ask any questions. “Something really bad is going to happen soon and I don't want you to get involved in it.”
A raised eyebrow is what he gets in response, and Jimmy has half a mind to bash his head against the most convenient wall as Kortez responds. “It can't be any worse than what happens in jail,” he says, voice light and totally the opposite of what Jimmy had been hoping otherwise.
Taking a breath to calm himself down, Jimmy looks at the dark-skinned man and starts very seriously. “Kortez. You helped me when I needed it, and now I am trying to repay that favour. I have no idea what will happen the moment people here see me because somewhere out there is a guy with-”
“Glory be to our God!”
“Fuck,” Jimmy swears emphatically right at the same when a hand slaps itself palm-first against the window of the van, and the face soon rises up to accompany that hand. A moment passes by before Jimmy links a name of the face he sees-Mrs. Davidson, right from three doors over. He remembers the wavy, auburn hair and her vaguely sharp nose that's now pressed against the glass of the van window. Her blue eyes, usually quiet and gentle, now instead light up in some sort of crazed, fanatical brainwashed frenzy, and her breaths fog up the part of the window she's pressing her pudgy face right up against.
Right beside him, Kortez seems to be just as stunned as Jimmy is, dark eyes going wide as he shirks back a little. He stares at the woman and then at Jimmy with thinly-veiled shock on his features for a few beats before his mouth moves, the words starting to form on his lips. “Jimmy, what’s going on-” he starts to say, but there’s another thump from Kortez’s side of the van this time and the jumps again. Both men dart their head in the other direction, watching the slightly-bald man also now pressing his face against the window panel and staring right at Jimmy without even so much as pausing to blink.
“Glory to God in the highest,” he hears the man chanting out, the hymn echoing hollowly in his ears as Mrs. Davidson does the same from the other side, her words in sync with the other. “And peace to His people on Earth.”
The Gloria. Jimmy knows it as well by heart, having always said it during Sunday masses. It’s always been one of his favourite things to say in worship, but right now this isn’t worship at all-no, this is just madness, chaotic and horrible and utterly fucking crazy. Castiel must have done something to the neighbourhood here, something that Jimmy really doesn’t want to think about; the mere idea of what he might have done only brings up bile in his throat, and Jimmy can’t help but take a moment to just think: Damnit, Cas, just what the heck happened to you?
There were no answers coming back to him, of course-not that Jimmy had been expecting any (that would have been a lot worse, he thinks), but peering through the window now Jimmy can see figures of other people now starting to gather around them. Heck, it wouldn’t even be too far-fetched to assume that the entire neighbourhood is slowly circling around them. Jimmy only takes a second to decide on his next course of action. He turns around to Kortez and speaks, the words leaving him in a hurried hiss. “Let’s get out of here!” He could only hope that Amelia and Claire would be alright, wherever they were-because there is no way that he can go and check on them now, not with his neighbourhood going crazy like this.
The words seem to prompt Kortez into action, at least, and the dark-skinned man quickly nods an affirmative before reaching for the ignition, starting the van and wasting no time in busting out the gas pedal. Jimmy lets out a yelp of surprise when he feels the entire van lurching for a second before it starts speeding off, mercilessly throwing people down to the road when it does so. In other situations Jimmy would really be sorry for that, but right now his main concern was pretty much to ensure his own sanity and survival.
“You know, I would have fucking appreciated a heads up about something like this,” Kortez snaps from beside him, sounding very reasonably pissed off and also some parts shaken by what had just happened-and to be honest, Jimmy can’t exactly blame him for that. “How do you even live there?”
Jimmy forces a smile, and it’s not exactly a very reassuring one. “It’s a long story.”
Kortez curses under his breath, all semblance of nice ex-convict pretty much gone now as he glances at the rear-view window. “Is this about your double on the news?”
“Ye-” Jimmy starts, then stops as the words properly digest into his head and he whips around to stare at Kortez with wide eyes. “Wait a minute, you knew?”
“Your face is printed on almost every fucking thing I’ve been reading ever since I got out,” the dark-skinned man snaps back again as his eyes stick to the road. “You could have told me you had a crazy twin brother, you know. I won’t judge.”
Jimmy doesn’t know if he should cry or laugh at this moment-he really feels like doing both at the same time. Instead all he does is to make a face and respond in a weak mutter. “I don’t really know how to explain it.”
“Then do,” is all that Kortez snarls back out in return before he abruptly turns the steering wheel around and Jimmy yelps out in surprise again as the van lurches once more when it does a complete three-sixty revolution on the road, tires screeching as the rubber burns against tarmac.
Straightening himself back up, Jimmy regains his composure and looks over to Kortez, who is looking back at him likewise. Jimmy takes a breath, pushing back down the uncomfortable feeling rising up from his throat and manages to rasp out to the other. “Can we just talk about this later?”
Kortez gives him another look in return, but the moment soon passes and the dark-skinned man turns back to the road. “Later,” he echoes, a confirmation of sorts.
Jimmy nods. “Later,” he agrees; he owes the other that much now, at least, for doing all of this. Later, he'll tell Kortez everything he knows. But right now, all he really wants to do is to get out of here as soon as possible, and as quickly as he can.
Kortez, however, doesn't seem to have the same sentiments-the van remains stationery, and the other's dark eyes peer over the flare of the setting sun, tilting his head just slightly as he squints. “Your family's inside there, right?” he asks after a pause, and things instantly click in Jimmy's head then.
“Yes, bu-wait!” he shouts, reaching out with a hand to still Kortez before the man can start the van up again. Kortez looks at Jimmy with raised eyebrows at the action, but remains silent and allows Jimmy to continue speak (which he does, in a hurried fluster). “We can't go back in there, its suicide!”
All Kortez does in response is to give a very flat and unimpressed look at Jimmy. “Then are you going to just leave your family there?”
“Well-no, but-”
“Then we're going,” Kortez says with finality, mouth set into a grim line as he shoves Jimmy's hands off him and promptly presses down onto the gas pedal. The van lurches once more before it starts to speed off, the engine thrumming violently under Jimmy's feet as Kortez truly puts the pedal to the metal. Needless to say, everything about this is a very bad idea, but Jimmy knows that Kortez has a point-he can't just abandon Amelia and Claire in that crazy place, not like this. He had to get them out.
Grabbing the handhold on top of him to steady himself, Jimmy looks over to Kortez and shouts at him. “Once this is over, remind me to get you a six-pack!”
Kortez lets out one of his usual snorts in response. “I don't drink,” he says before his eyes suddenly widen and the dark-skinned man abruptly swivels the van to the right. Jimmy yelps in surprise as he feels the van swaying from the force of that turn, twisting his head around to see just what had happened to have Kortez suddenly shift the van like that.
“Some crazy dude running out onto the street,” Kortez answers the question for Jimmy, scowling visibly as he straightens the van back on the road. “Would have knocked him down if I hadn't-”
“Kortez!” Jimmy shouts out, pointing as he sees another person going out onto the street. Kortez instantly reacts, hand flying to the gear stick as he switches gears and presses down on the brake-the van doesn't lurch this time, but Jimmy can feel the shift in gravity as Kortez effortlessly pulls out a drift like those he had seen in Hollywood movies. It's almost a bit surreal experiencing it in a situation like this, and Jimmy can feel his heart beating loudly in his chest as Kortez eases out of the drift, quickly returning back to the proper road and speeding up.
Jimmy looks over towards Kortez when he can get his breaths again, and the dark-skinned man only shrugs helplessly. “Guess you know what I got in the slammer for.”
Gulping down a breath, Jimmy takes a moment more to calm down before he manages to reply. “Right now, I can't really bring myself to care.” Because seriously? Right now, Kortez's crazy Hollywood-like driving skills were pretty much all they had to accomplish anything in here.
God, they're so screwed.
“Glad to know,” Kortez remarks back dryly before he glances out of the window again, eyes narrowing as he turns back to Jimmy. “You're going to have to direct me to where your house is, or else I'm going to burn out the rubber before we can get to your family. These tires ain't going to hold for long.”
Jimmy sucks in another breath and nods, ignoring the now-darkening skies as he looks at their surroundings, matching his memory to what he's seeing now and giving out directions. “Go straight for two turns and then take the first left after that.”
Kortez makes a hum in return and presses his foot down onto the pedal again. “Alright, let's go.”
The way over to his house is strangely silent, and the lack of anything happening is what sets Jimmy's alarms off, every instinct now screaming at him at the sheer wrongness of what he and Kortez are seeing-or rather, what they are not seeing. It's too quiet, too peaceful, and nothing about this situation is right at all.
As they cross the final stretch of road to where the Novak residence lies just ahead, Jimmy shifts around nervously, glancing past the windows and just waiting for some more of those crazed fanatics to start jumping out from nowhere. The silence unsettles him more than anything else-the unnatural stillness is worrying. Jimmy worries his bottom lip with his teeth, fingers flexing reflexively against the material of his now heavily-worn pants. The tension is rising with each passing second, and it’s starting to get on the edge of unbearable; Jimmy isn't sure just how much more of waiting, of this anticipation that he can take.
Kortez easily notes the restlessness that Jimmy is displaying, letting out a huff of breath as the dark-skinned man tightens his grip on the steering wheel. Jimmy may not be an expert in body language in the way Kortez is, but even he can figure out that the other is also nervous-something he can't really blame him for. It's not every day when you just so happen to pick up the astounding lookalike of the being going around the world and proclaiming himself 'God'. In fact, it would have almost been funny if it wasn't the fact that it's currently happening to them right now.
His house stands the same as the last time he had seen it-about three years ago, if he remembers correctly-although the sigh does nothing to ease the nervousness still rising up in Jimmy's gut. Kortez is silent as he pulls the van up onto the driveway, putting the vehicle on hold but refusing to kill off the engine in case they required a hasty escape; it’s a plan that Jimmy can readily agree to.
“Should I come along?” Kortez asks, quiet concern audible in his voice as he frowns, clearly debating.
Even though Jimmy knows that the help would be appreciated (and maybe even important), he shakes his head anyway. “No-its fine. I'll go in by myself.”
The frown on Kortez's face deepens, the expression showing quite plainly that he did not agree, but the man still nods after a pause, although he does have a few words of his own to speak out after that. “Five minutes, then I'll come in as well.”
It's not the best plan and a lot of things can go wrong in five minutes, but Jimmy takes his chances all the same and acknowledges Kortez's words with a nod. “Five minutes,” he echoes back, understanding, pushing down the lump in his throat as he says that and reaches for the door handle. Despite his growing nerves Jimmy manages to get out of the van successfully, pointedly ignoring the way his feet shakes and how his knees feel like buckling under his weight at any given moment. Even Jimmy knows that he’s nothing much than a bundle of nerves now, useless against anything that might be out to gank him, but he has to do this. Needs to see things for himself before he can truly move on, and go about his next move.
The path to his front door suddenly seems too long when Jimmy always remembers it being much shorter instead, every step almost too little for his tastes. Reaching the front steps of his house seems to take an eternity of its own, and Jimmy’s nerves are shot by the time he’s actually there. He gulps again, slowly steeling himself and reaches for the door handle with clammy hands, feeling the cool metal against his fingers.
Now or never, Novak, Jimmy thinks to himself and proceeds to suck in a breath, pulling out a burst of strength to open the door and step right into the house before he can stop himself; he lets go of the door handle as he enters, and the resounding slam that comes after that almost sounds like a finality of its own. The sound still echoes in his ears as Jimmy looks around the place, eyes slowly adjusting into the darkness of his house; nothing’s on as far as he can tell, but it always pays to be cautious. Letting out a hiss of breath Jimmy starts to move, the floorboards creaking obscenely loud under his feet with each step that he takes, the sound causing him to wince. It’s quiet; far too quiet even for this time of night, and the fact that the door isn’t locked is a major cause for concern. Had something happened to Amelia and Claire already?
No, he can’t think that now. Jimmy does a quick shake of his head to dislodge the thoughts, focusing back to the task at hand as he moves past the living room and heads for the stairs while pointedly ignoring the loud taps of his shoes against the floor. Jimmy pauses at the foot of the stairs, looking upwards to the second floor as he worries his bottom lip once more. He hears the sound of his own breathing in the still silence of the place, the thudding of his heart in his chest as another bout of nervousness washes over him. The first floor is devoid of anybody but himself; Jimmy can figure that much out, at least. The upper floor, though… who knew? Anything might happen, and Jimmy really doesn’t want to meet anything because he’s not equipped to handle anything at all.
Or maybe-
Jimmy looks away from the top of the stairs to glance around his surroundings, attempting to find something that he could arm himself with. Maybe something that’s preferably iron-made-at least if there’s a ghost, he’d be able to get it away. If it’s a human, he could knock said person out with a properly-executed blow. Still, Jimmy does hope that there’s really nothing up there ready to kill him. He’s not trained for these things.
After a bit of rummaging around, Jimmy eventually manages to find a golf club in the stand of the living room-it’s been years since he’s actually touched the set sitting there, and Jimmy distinctly remembers having made plans to throw it away now. Right now he’s very glad that it didn’t happen, because only God (the real God, if he’s even around) knows how much he needs this right now.
Now armed with a golf club in his hand, Jimmy does feel slightly better as he returns to the stairs with it and after another moment’s hesitation, starts to climb up. The golf club is heavy and highly unwieldy in his (sweaty) hands, but it’s the best thing that Jimmy’s got right now and now he pretty much needs to have all the luck he can get. The stairs creak under his weight as Jimmy climbs up step by step, eyes focused at the top while he steadies his hands to ensure that he’s holding the club properly, gulping all the while. He’s nearly there now, just a few more steps and-
Jimmy reaches the top and stops, stilling again as he strains his ears and eyes in a bid to try and take notice of anything strange that might happen. He waits, nervous and edgy, as a moment beats by, and then two followed by a few more before Jimmy can determine that he’s safe and relaxes a bit. He starts walking again, footsteps echoing loudly in the hallway as Jimmy goes to where the master bedroom is-where he and Amelia used to be in, happy to live their lives until ‘destiny’ had changed things forever between them.
Now wasn’t the time for regrets and the ‘what ifs’, though; Jimmy gets to his bedroom, where the door has been left open. He pauses at the threshold once more, composing himself before he cautiously reaches out to the doorknob and pushes against it with his fingers. The door swings open without interruptions, bouncing off the wall ever so slightly when it hits. Like the rest of the house the room is dark and quiet-although if anything, the silence only seems far more intense and heavy in his ears as Jimmy carefully treads inside, eyes narrowing as he tries to make out something through the dim moonlight shining through the window.
“Ames?” he calls out, his voice leaving him in a near-whisper. Jimmy pauses, takes a deep breath, and then tries again (this time with more volume). “Amelia?” Jimmy inches more into the room, the handle of the golf club slippery in his palms as he feels sweat starting to drip from his temples and rolling down his neck, his back, his arms, his hands. Jimmy feels the tension building up again, rising within him like a wave and threatening to overwhelm him entirely; his heartbeat pounds in his chest and between his temples, every thud resounding in his ears like the beats of a drum. It sounds in time with his footsteps as Jimmy makes himself move, walking to the bed and unconsciously reaching out to touch the sheets, giving himself a moment to indulge on the small comfort of seeing his home again after three years.
Three years. It's hard to believe the amount of time that's passed even until now. Three years since the disastrous outcome of his reunion with his family, three years since he's made the choice to fully serve as Castiel's vessel-three years since he's passed on. Three years, and the world had already shifted, changed and moved on without him. Three years, and everything he knows has fallen into absolute, chaotic, utter madness.
Jimmy closes his eyes and lets out a loud breath, pushing away the flood of emotions that's threatening to wash over him. His hand skims across the surface of his bed, fingertips and palm brushing over the smooth material of the bedspread, relishing in the warm familiarity of his room. If there's one thing he hasn't quite forgotten yet, it’s the comforting feel that his room gives him.
Suddenly the smooth texture of the bedspread is interrupted by something else entirely, and Jimmy opens his eyes back to look at where his hand is. He raises it up, blinking when he sees the piece of paper lying there where his hand had been, and the man takes a moment to debate on his decision before he moves to pick the paper up. He reaches to the bedside table and promptly flicks the table lamp on, the glow of the light just enough for Jimmy to make out the familiar handwriting (Amelia's, he realizes with a jolt) as he reads the letter now in his hand.
Jimmy:
I don't know if you'll actually ever come back here, but all the same I think you deserve to know, somehow, at least. I feel that I owe you this much, after... last time.
Both of us-Claire and I-we've gone into hiding. I don't know if you do know what's happened, but the angel-Castiel-he's been going around the neighbourhood converting the people here to worship him. I don't know what he's doing or if Castiel is even aware of the things that he is doing, but our lives in the last few weeks have not been good. He's wearing your body, Jimmy, and everyone's starting to link Castiel to us. I'm afraid to imagine just what exactly Castiel intends to do, but seeing him going around, hearing him on the news... I don't know, Jimmy, but I only feel that something wrong is going to happen.
Before you start asking me, I don't blame you for this. I don't think anybody would have guessed that this would happen. All the same, though, it’s no longer safe for Claire and I to remain here, so we've moved. An acquaintance has agreed to take us in and keep us safe until all of this blows over. He's an old friend of mine, and I trust him-so you don't need to worry, Jimmy.
I'm sorry I doubted you back then, but now I guess I know better. I'll keep Claire safe as much as I can-she misses you a lot, Jimmy, and I really hope that we can finally see each other again in peace.
Amelia
As he finishes reading the last words of the letter Jimmy lets out a shaky breath he wasn't even aware he had been holding back, barely registering the fact that his hand is trembling as he sets the letter down onto the bedside table. He lets his hand fall back to his side once the paper is placed onto the table, closing his eyes as Jimmy sucks in a breath. They're not here, then. He won't get to see them. But they're okay and they're safe, and that's the most important thing right now.
The sudden sound of pounding footsteps brings Jimmy out of his thoughts, and the man tenses up as the sound comes closer and closer to where he is. He gets back up, golf club ready in hand as Jimmy starts to raise it up, prepared to strike the moment the intruder enters the room-but manages to stop himself just in time when he realizes that its Kortez who's barging into the place.
“We need to-Jimmy!” the dark-skinned man yelps out, quickly backing off the moment he sees Jimmy with the golf club, eyes wide in surprise.
“Sorry,” Jimmy quickly replies, hastening to lower down the club in his hand. The tenseness doesn't ease up, though-if Kortez is here, then there's a good chance that something is wrong; he's half-certain that his five minutes weren't up yet. He looks back to the other, frowning. “What's wrong?”
Kortez jerks a thumb behind him in response, his voice clipped as he answers the question. “Trouble, and lots of it. The fanatics are starting to swarm around here. I had to abandon the van, since there's no way we'll be getting out through the drive way now.” As if to highlight the authenticity of Kortez's words, the door downstairs starts to thump loudly, the living room echoing with the never-ending beat of countless fists. From where they stand Jimmy can hear the shouts and cries of the fanatics, hearing their chants of 'God, give us salvation!' and other stuff that Jimmy really didn't want to hear.
Jimmy tears himself away from the noise and focuses back to Kortez, who looks just as spooked out as he is and none too certain on their next course of action. “I really hope you have a back door out of here, or we're going to have to jump through the window,” the dark-skinned man says very dryly.
Grimacing visibly at the remark, Jimmy debates on their options as the thumping grows louder from below. Heading downstairs would be a risky option, considering the situation, and while his house did have a back way out Jimmy's pretty certain that the route wasn't going to be open to them, especially if they're going to be up against the people familiar with this neighbourhood. Only one way out, then.
“We're jumping out of the window,” Jimmy faintly hears the sound of his own voice saying the words as he looks at Kortez, staring at him in the same way that he remembers Castiel staring at Dean in their earlier days. It's giving him a weird sense of déjà vu, and Jimmy notes it clinically before filing it aside; he can think about this later, once he's actually away from this.
Kortez, to his credit, does nothing more than blink a few times at Jimmy's words, but does nothing more than that and nods after a pause. “Well,” he starts, taking a breath, “This is your crazy neighbourhood. Where are we going to jump out from?”
“My daughter's bedroom,” Jimmy instantly replies, already starting to move as he speaks. “We can jump over from the ledge there.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Kortez returns, although Jimmy can't help but note the dark amusement lacing his voice as the man adds on after he's out of the room. “Albeit just as crazy as this entire situation is.”
Jimmy can only snort mildly in response.
Claire's room is just as untouched as his had been when they enter the place, although Kortez pauses for a moment to whistle at the sight that greets him-particularly at the fancy, near-ostentatious way the room's been furnished. “Your kid's one pampered princess,” comes the remark.
Jimmy rolls his eyes in return, although a small part of him does wince a bit at the spoken words. “She's my only kid,” he returns pointedly, and says nothing more on the matter as he glances around, finding the correct window to get out of-once he does find it, Jimmy opens the window, mentally apologizing to his daughter as he takes off the lamp that's on the bedside table and unceremoniously tosses it to the bed. The bangs get louder and far more insistent with each passing moment, and Jimmy doesn't allow himself even a second to hesitate as he passes the golf club to Kortez and clambers up the bedside table, starting to put his leg out of the window.
Koretz's dark eyes flicker from Jimmy to out of the door, where now Jimmy hears the sound of wood and metal banging against each other. “The barricade's not going to hold for long,” the dark-skinned man mutters as he looks back at Jimmy, and he nods in return, quickly climbing through the window and emerging out onto the roof of the balcony. Now that he's properly outside Jimmy can hear the chanting loud and clear, the voices of the crowd below coming out as one as Jimmy hears nothing but exaltation and praises and everything else that is not him.
He looks back at Kortez who's also now making his way out via the window, and the dark-skinned man only spares a moment to look at Jimmy before he scowls and shouts at him. “What're you still standing there for? Start moving!”
That's something that doesn't need to be told twice; Jimmy nods in response and turns to face the ledge that stands before him-his destination, separated by a gap that's about two to three feet wide and nearly thrice as high. All in all, it’s really not the most favourable conditions for him. Still, this is the only way he has out of here, and Jimmy knows that he has to take it.
Below him Jimmy hears the door breaking open and the barricade falling apart, and Koretz curses loudly before he shouts at Jimmy again, the urgency now much more audible in his voice. “Go now, Jimmy! Go!”
No more time to think, now; Jimmy forces himself to move in spite of shaky legs, keeping his gaze fixed upon the opposite ledge as he pushes into a run, sprinting across the short length of the balcony before he jumps, a cry tearing out from his throat as his feet leave the ledge and there's nothing else but the air. He sails across, hanging in nothing but air for a few intense seconds. It feels somewhat otherworldly, the sensation a bit akin to flying, and for a moment Jimmy feels himself disconnecting from his own body. The moment soon passes, however, and suddenly Jimmy's back in his body properly, his heart leaping up to his mouth as he begins to fall back to the ground, dragged down by the weight of gravity.
Crap crap crap- Jimmy thinks to himself in a rush, squeezing his eyes shut as the man braces himself for the painful impact of his body hitting the ground and possibly breaking a good number of bones in the process. The wind howls in his ears, catching in his jacket and then Jimmy lands, hitting uncomfortably against the floor, the edges of the tiles digging painfully into his arms and back.
Wait a minute.
Tiles?
Jimmy opens his eyes, blinking at the sight of tiles that greet his vision, and moves to push himself back up. It takes a second to realize that he has made the jump, even if his entire body is now sore and aching from the rough landing. Relief instantly courses through him the moment the realization properly settles within him, and Jimmy turns back to his house to start calling out to Kortez. “Kortez-” He stops instantly the moment he properly turns back, eyes widening in shock as his mind registers the sight of Kortez being dragged back into the room, the dark-skinned man snarling and kicking as he attempts to dislodge himself. “Kortez!” Jimmy calls out again, louder this time round, feet already moving before he realizes it.
Kortez looks back at Jimmy, never pausing in his struggle as his dark eyes flash at him and the man shouts back at him. “Don't care about me, just get out of here!”
“But-” Jimmy starts, at a loss on what to say, but Kortez cuts back to the chase and shouts at him again.
“Just go, damnit! Don't make me regret helping you.”
Jimmy clenches his jaw, trying to ignore the hot sting of tears forming at the corners of his eyes as he steps back, giving Kortez what he knew would be one last final look. “I'm sorry,” he croaks out, voice suddenly raw and almost broken.
Kortez says nothing in return and only gives one of his small, wry smiles. Jimmy takes a few more steps back before his own fear betrays him, and the man turns around, breaking out into another run as he hears Kortez's voice roaring into the evening skies.
“You're going to have to kill me to get your stupid God-lookalike back, assholes!”
It's ledge after ledge after ledge-Jimmy's just constantly running without pause, working on his own fear and adrenaline as he runs and jumps as far as his legs can take him. It's tiring and he's tired as hell, but yet Jimmy doesn't allow himself to stop, only continuing to push himself forward. He can't stop now, not after the sacrifice that Kortez has made for him-a sacrifice that he most certainly did not deserve, not by a man who had been looking forward to his life after prison. Now he's gone and it’s up to Jimmy to shoulder the responsibility of that death, to ensure that the sacrifice had not been in vain.
I need to find a car first, the man thinks to himself, assembling the semblance of a plan in his head as he runs. Get out of this place, somehow locate the Winchesters and then- his thoughts are abruptly cut off as Jimmy stumbles in his pace, the momentum of his run carelessly dragging him forward as Jimmy miscalculates his footing and before he realizes it, he's slipping off the edge with a shout and plummeting down quickly towards the ground.
Shit! He swears out before the reality hits him, the possibility of how he's going to break a good number of things when he lands and how he'll be unable to escape the Castiel fanatics swarming around from him. They're bound to find him sooner or later, and then who knew what would happen next once they did-but whatever it was, Jimmy does not want to know. He squeezes his eyes shut, bracing himself for the painful, unforgiving impact-
“I should have figured you'd be doing something crazy like this.”
Jimmy feels the world shifting around him, the displacement of air and sound as everything changes in his senses, and the next thing Jimmy knows he's landing softly against a mattress, barely a bump on his body as he half-sinks into it. The man gives himself a few seconds before he opens his eyes back up, now finding himself staring at a flicking light bulb swaying with a lamp that's hanging from the ceiling. Faintly, a part of him registers the smell of oil in the distance, but that's quickly banished by the fact that he vaguely recognizes this place. Jimmy quickly pushes himself up, eyes darting around as he tenses, ready to spring out and dart away when he has to.
“No need to worry, Jimmy-boy,” a voice drawls from nearby. “You're safe here.”
“Who's there?” Jimmy instantly snaps back, eyes narrowing as he turns his head in the direction of where the voice had come from, although he sees nothing at all; instantly his suspicions rise, and Jimmy clenches his jaw, eyes narrowing.
The voice sighs, sounding clearly unimpressed at the words. “Is that how you're supposed to thank the guy who saved your life?” it retorts back in turn, and Jimmy really doesn’t like the way the voice sounds so particularly snarky and sure of himself.
“Why would you-” he starts to ask, but the sound of hurried footsteps interrupt his question and Jimmy turns his attention to the doorway, tensing up even more as they come closer to where he is.
“What's going on-” a voice begins, but then stops as a familiar figure appears at the door and Jimmy can't help but stare in absolute shock at the sight of Dean Winchester who's now frozen on the spot and staring right back at him. There's a pause, and then two, and then tentatively, the hunter speaks. “…Cas?”
Jimmy attempts to move his mouth and speak, but Sam Winchester (who had come up with Dean) beats him to the punch, eyes narrowing. “…Jimmy?”
Dean looks towards Sam with obvious surprise on his features, but Jimmy forces down the lump in his throat and manages to speak. “You got it right in two,” he croaks out, feeling the giant wave of relief that's about to wash out of him. The Winchesters. He’s with the Winchesters.
Both hunters turn to stare at him for a moment, all three of them too taken aback to say anything else. The silence stretches on for a few moments before it’s broken by the voice from earlier. It sighs again without warning, the sound making all of them jump. “Now are you two satisfied?” it asks, drawling once more.
Jimmy's still not very sure what's going on, but the hunters exchange looks between each other for a second with grim looks on their faces, and Sam's the one who speaks again once the moment passes between the brothers. “Gabriel?”
Gabriel? The man echoes in his head, eyes widening as he follows the direction of Sam's gaze to stare in shock at the small-sized, brown-haired man who’s just abruptly appeared and now made his place against the wall, leaning against it as he directs a small grin towards both Sam and Dean.
“The one and only,” he states, amusement dripping from his voice as he gives another brief look at Jimmy before turning back to the hunters. “Now do you believe me?”
Dean glances at Jimmy this time too, and Jimmy can't help but look back as the older Winchester closes his eyes and lets out a loud hiss of breath through his nose, shifting his gaze back to the newcomer and replies with a scowl. “Alright, Gabriel, we believe you. Now fill us in.”
→ two: try to praise the mutilated world →