WOTR | Book 2 Part I
BOOK 2: THE OUTERLANDS
War Of The Regions:
Book 2 Part I
Masterpost
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The red oak tree looms in the distance and Dean grins when he sees it, the other two following him along. He looks opposite it, and walking over to the fence and feels like praying for the luck that has found them today.
Dean kneels down on the ground and moves the piles of branches and leaves away to reveal a hole large enough to crawl through. He grins at Sam and Cas over his shoulder, and stands up, brushing his hands over his knees to sweep away the clinging dirt.
You first, Sammy, he says, and Sam nods at him, all business, before kneeling down on the dirt and slipping through. He stands up on the other side, obscured by thick vines and brambles which cling to the metal fencing, and says, “Okay.”
Dean sticks his hand under and gives a thumbs up, and feels Sam’s fist bump his. Cas goes next, pulling the bags through after him, and Dean is last, and making sure to re-cover the hole once on the other side. The view this side of the fence is similar to where they’ve just left, and Dean feels a surge of happiness once he stands up, realizing they’ve done it. He grins at Sam, who shares a smile back, and Cas stands beside him and places a hand on his shoulder.
“Well done,” he says, and Dean shrugs at him, as if to say thanks, I couldn’t have gotten here without you, and Cas seems to understand, a warm smile on his face and a glint in his eyes.
They start to walk towards the forest which lies ahead of them, sticking close as they enter it. It’s quieter, an eerie silence, which presses in at them from all sides. The brambles are high and the trees are close together, and they walk carefully through the unkempt nature. The woods of the Regions they had been passing before were travelled, even just rarely, and these look like uncharted territory. It’s not true of course - everyone must past through to get to the other side, but there’s something discomforting here.
Dean keeps his eye on Sam the entire time, makes sure they stop to drink water and eat food. Cas checks on Sam in much the same way, and makes Dean feel reassured. He has someone to count on.
Despite the density of the forest, it doesn’t feel like it takes them more than a couple of miles to come out the other side. The first thing they notice is a wide clearing, and there are piles of rock and rubble. There are small signs of people passing through, but no sign of anyone living here. They carry on walking forwards, past the detritus, and veer off the left of the open field to a wooden gate. They pass through and follow a winding pass that stretches downhill through the trees.
Once they’re out of the trees, Dean stops, stunned. They’re standing at the top of a field of long grass, and near the bottom are people and the homes of these people. There are horses gazing in the corner of the meadow, and a river that runs past. Dean is grinning, and Sam is managing to smile, although his eyes look tired, and Cas is smiling at them both.
“We did it,” Dean says.
Sam taps him on the shoulder, and says, Thank you.
Dean wraps his arm around his neck and gently pulls him close. Sam doesn’t pull away but instead rests his head on Dean’s shoulder. After a moment he pulls away and it’s enough to tell Sam you’re welcome.
They start walking down the field, and there’s a sudden, nervous, churning sensation in Dean’s stomach. He tries to ignore it and keeps a hand on the blade in his belt to steady himself. The thought that their dad might be here makes him panicky, and the thought that their dad isn’t here makes him feel worse. He swallows down the fear and focuses on getting them safely into the village.
People stop and stare when they cross over the river via the wooden bridge, and some offer small smiles. Others look weary and some don’t even spare them a glance. The sun is setting now, and people are walking into their homes, children laughing around their feet.
Where are we going to stay? Sam asks, and Dean shares a glance with Cas, because it’s not something he has the answer to. This is different than finding some shelter in the middle of the woods. This place isn’t their territory.
They continue walking through the village without speaking and Dean looks for some shelter to stay in. They could find someone to bargain with, provide labor for a night’s sleep, but just something that will allow Sam somewhere to sleep off his sickness.
Dean looks carefully over all the houses, peering down small alleyways and between wooden huts, when he sees a pair of eyes staring out at him. His hand instinctively goes towards his knife, but then the figure steps out of the shadows and he sees who it is.
“Andy?” he calls, loosening his grip on the knife.
Andy steps forward with a grin on his face and looks at the three of them. His eyes look tired, and his clothes are torn and dirty, but other than that he looks happy.
“Dean, Sam! You made it out here!” He runs over to them, excited, and grins up at them all. Sam gives him a small wave and Andy slaps a hand on his shoulder.
“Good to see you, Sam.”
Sam nods at him, smiling weakly, and something passes through Andy’s eyes but he doesn’t lose the smile. He drops his hand and looks over to Cas, who’s standing a few steps back, watching with interest.
“Hi,” he says.
“This is Castiel,” Dean says, placing a hand on his shoulder and pulling him closer. “Cas, this is Andy.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Andy,” Cas says, and Andy grins at him.
“Yeah, man, you too.”
Dean looks around the village, glances twice at all the men with beards, with the woman with blonde hair, and tries to push back the disappointment, when he asks, “Have you seen my dad? Or, you know--”
“No,” Andy says, cutting in, looking apologetic. “As far as I can tell, I’m the only one from our Region here.”
Dean swallows and nods, looks away to glance at the passerby's again.
“What about a Gabriel?” Cas asks, and Andy shrugs and shakes his head.
“Thank you anyway,” Cas says, sounding resigned.
“You guys look beat,” Andy says, shifting uncomfortably in front of them. “D’you need somewhere to stay?”
Dean lets out a breath of relief and looks back to him. “Seriously, man, if you’ve got somewhere for us to spend the night, I’d owe you one.”
“Sure,” Andy says, giving a little shrug of his shoulders. “I’ll show you.”
Dean looks towards Sam, gives him a thumbs up and a raise of his eyebrows and Sam gives a thumbs up back, but from one glance Dean can tell the fever is back. Sam’s eyes are glassy, his skin warm and clammy to the touch, and his movements are slow.
“Hey, Andy? Can you take this?” Dean holds over his smaller bag, and Andy takes it, swinging it over his shoulder. Dean then takes Sam’s off his shoulders, and Sam frowns at him.
No bitching, Dean signs, and Sam rolls his eyes at him but doesn’t push it. They follow Andy through the village and he takes them to the outskirts, where the buildings are crumbling and a trickling stream runs only meters away from their door.
“This is it,” Andy says, walking through the front door, which is hanging by only one hinge.
The room is spacious, a crumbling section running through the center of it as if it had once been two rooms, but it has a ceiling and the windows open wide. It’s barely better than anywhere they’ve been staying while traveling through the woods, but Dean is grateful nonetheless.
“Thanks, Andy,” he says, genuine, and Andy shrugs sheepishly at him and walks over to the windowsill. Dean and Cas set down the bags, and Dean gets out the blanket from his bag, the one from Sam’s, and piles them together on the floor. Cas does the same, offering his own one up, and Sam watches tiredly from where he’s sitting on the floor. Andy lights a candle by the window and picks up a small leather pouch from the corner of the room.
“I haven’t got a lot of food,” he says, opening the pouch. “But help yourselves.”
“Thank you, Andy,” Cas says, smiling towards him. Andy nods at him, and sits down on the floor, popping a berry from the pouch into his mouth. Dean finishes setting up the makeshift bed and turns to Sam.
Sleep now or eat?
Sam watches him, looks back at the bed, and then frowns. With his hands, he says, Can’t take your blankets. Share them, Dean.
Dean is already shaking his head before Sam finishes. The blankets are for you. Sleep.
Sam is looking unsure about the idea, and Cas comes to sit beside Dean and looks towards Sam.
Please take my blanket, he signs, and Dean feels something warm and powerful bloom within him at the sight of Cas talking to Sam, offering up his own bedding and doing it without sparing it a second’s thought.
Sam finally nods and lies down in the blankets, his eyes shut the moment he’s fully down. Dean gives his arm a squeeze, and then moves back to sit next to Cas and Andy. They share Andy’s pouch of food, and Dean and Cas offer to share their own small pickings from the woods. Dean takes his water out of his bag and places it beside Sam’s head in case he needs it in the night.
Sam isn’t sleeping peacefully, occasionally making small moaning sounds, and Dean watches him carefully. He kneels beside him and places a hand on his forehead.
“Is he okay?” Andy asks. His head is hot, and Dean sits back with a sigh. He roots through his bag for a spare t-shirt and rolls it up.
“His fever is worse,” Dean says, walking past them and into the night air. He bends down at the small stream and wets the rolled-up t-shirt in the cool water before heading back inside and going to Sam again. He gently dabs at Sam’s face and neck, hoping to cool him down. Sam doesn’t wake up at the touch, but he quiets down a little.
“He needs medicine,” Cas says, coming to sit beside Dean. Cas turns towards Andy, and asks, “Do you know of anybody in the village that could provide medicine?”
Andy looks over Sam and then glances to the door. “I don’t know about here. But we aren’t the only village. The Outerlands is huge. There are more of us, many more.”
Dean dabs at Sam’s forehead with the cloth until Sam feels cooler, and then wipes his own forehead with it.
“Tomorrow I’ll go ask everyone,” Dean says, running a hand through his hair, which is getting long enough to curl around his ears. “Someone must have something or at least know how to make a proper remedy.”
“Ask tomorrow,” Andy says lying down on the floor on a rolled up blanket. “But you guys look exhausted. I’m sleeping now, and you should too.”
“Yeah,” Dean says, glancing at Sam once more before lying down on the ground with sigh.
“Thank you for your hospitality, Andy,” Cas says, sitting down beside Dean and resting his head against the wall.
“No problem,” Andy mumbles.
Dean closes his eyes, reassured by the fact Cas seems to be on guard and watching over them. Tomorrow they’ll switch, but for tonight he can get some rest.
Only, sleep is proving difficult. He moves in and out of it, and after struggling to fall asleep listening to Andy’s low snores, he sits up, resigned, and takes a sip of the water beside Sam. He looks over at Cas who’s still sitting against the wall and is watching him.
Dean checks on Sam to make sure he’s breathing and not too hot before sitting beside Cas against the wall with a sigh.
“You love him a lot,” Cas says quietly, and Dean turns to see Cas still watching him, his gaze soft.
Dean turns to look back at Sam. “He’s my brother.”
He doesn’t think he needs to say any more than that. Cas shuffles closer towards him until they’re sitting side by side, thighs lightly touching. Dean leans his hand back against the wall and shuts his eyes. He feels comfortable next to Cas, and it scares him. He doesn’t like to be vulnerable, can’t afford to be vulnerable, but something about this boy makes him want to open up.
“I miss them,” Cas says quietly, and Dean opens his eyes and looks towards him. Cas is peering down at his shoes, his hands on his knees. “My family, I mean. Gabriel and my brothers. My father.”
Dean isn’t used to seeing Cas this open and afraid, and he's itching to close the distance between them and offer some comfort. Cas looks towards him and then shrugs as if to end the conversation and Dean nods at him, understanding the words he’s having trouble saying.
“I know.” Dean swallows convulsively, feeling uncomfortable. “I guess we just have to keep looking for them. Waiting.”
Cas looks away again and shuts his eyes, resting his head back against the wall. “I don’t think I’m going to find them, Dean.”
He doesn’t know what to say to that. He has no hope to offer. Instead he puts his hand on Cas’ knee and he squeezes. Cas puts his hand on top of Dean’s and lets it rest there.
“Hey, can I ask - I guess it’s personal, so you don’t have to say. But what happened to your mom? You only mentioned she taught you how to make medicines.”
Cas opens his eyes and peers over, and he looks troubled. Dean goes to pull his hand away, feeling guilty for asking, when Cas offers a small smile and keeps Dean’s hand on his knee with a light squeeze.
“She died when I was thirteen years old. It wasn’t sudden. She grew weak and dizzy, and she’d stop being able to walk, until it reached the point where she stopped being able to do anything at all. In the winter, she died. We buried her in the Mystic Trees.”
“The Mystic Trees?” Dean asks quietly, watching Cas intently in the dim light.
“My region was full of trees. Trees double the height of the ones here. We lived in a small village at the bottom of a dense forest, by a wide, clear lake. The Elders believed the Mystic Trees were planted thousands of years ago on the land our ancestors used to live. Our mother told us she wanted to be buried there because she felt closer to God.”
Dean is struggling to find something to say that would mean enough to ease the sorrow that Cas is feeling. Instead, he states the obvious. “You miss it.”
Cas smiles sadly at him. “I do.”
“I’m sorry about your mom.”
“Don’t be.”
Dean feels like Cas is leaving him an opening, encouraging him to talk about his own family, but something stops him, and he swallows it down, something else that coming to mind that needs to be brought up.
There’s something that Dean’s been thinking over for a little while now. Something that he’s been mulling over and has been nagging at him, but he can’t find the answer for. They’ve talked about it once, just briefly, but it still makes him unsure. In the darkness, after Cas has already laid himself so bare, it feels almost easy to bring it up.
“Cas,” he starts, bringing his gaze back up to look at him. He looks peaceful, his eyes closed again, his lips slightly parted, and he turns to look at Dean when he speaks. “Can I ask you another question?”
“Of course you can.”
Dean tries to keep the eye contact, because this is important. He can’t get over the feeling that this is somehow because of him. “Why didn’t you go with Gabriel and Jo? Why did you come with us? And I know it isn’t just to help me with Sam. I mean - really.”
Cas doesn’t break the eye contact and Dean can feel how fast his heart is beating now. He has an overwhelming urge to pull Cas close and wrap himself around him.
“I wanted to be with you,” he says quietly, and it’s almost too quiet for Dean to hear, except it’s not. It’s the loudest six words he’s heard in a long time, and they make such a forceful impact Dean wonders how he can still remain upright.
Because that’s not just an admission that Cas wants Dean. It’s the admission that Cas wants to be with him enough to sacrifice his own brother.
“I don’t regret it,” he continues, whispering, leaning closer to Dean’s ear. “I don’t regret it one bit.”
Dean lets out a heavy breath and Cas pulls back.
“I’m sorry you couldn’t have both,” Dean says. He knows he’d never want to make a decision like that. In the same token he knows, knows he’d have to choose Sam, and that makes him feel guilty in a way it shouldn’t.
“Gabriel and I weren’t that close. We were when we were younger, but we didn’t always see eye to eye. Don’t feel guilty, Dean. You have no reason to.”
Dean doesn’t know what to say to that, but it doesn’t seem like Cas is looking for an answer. Dean leans forward on an impulse and presses his lips against Cas’. For a moment he stays still, unmoving, and Dean’s heart feels like it’s beating wildly in his chest. But then Cas softens, leaning into it, and kisses back. It’s not long, just a short press of lips, enough to tell Cas he’s there, and he cares, before they pull apart. They lie down on the ground together, wrapped up in each other, and fall asleep listening to each other’s quiet breaths.
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