WOTR | Book 1 Part VI
War Of The Regions:
Book 1 Part VI
Masterpost
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After walking for some time through the darkness, they realize they’re heading in the wrong direction from the fence once Sam mentions the way the sun had set, and they turn and carry on picking their way through heavy branches and dense trees. The woods are dark and cold, every small sound like a warning sound to Dean’s ears. When they reach an old, crumbling shed, he almost feels like weeping with relief.
Why is it here? Sam asks, looking through a gap in the wall in surprise. Nobody lives in the woods, and Dean figures that if anyone was caught here they’d be taken to the Outerlands and shot.
Dean walks beside him and peers in, sees a cement floor and rotten walls, but it will do. It’s shelter.
He turns to Sam, and says, Probably from before.
Dean doesn’t need to say before what. Nobody ever has to.
Jo pushes the door and it swings open with a loud creak, the handle falling off in her hand. She chucks it to the floor and steps over the threshold, a small beetle scurrying across the ground.
“This will do,” she says, and moves into the center of the room and shrugs off her bag. Sam follows and Dean brings up the rear, carefully shutting the door behind them. The room is dark, with only a few holes in the ceiling letting in minimal light. The windows are boarded up, and there’s only a small table in the corner, covered in dirt. Long vines crawl up the inside of the walls, but Dean likes it. It’s the closest thing to shelter they’ve had so far.
“So what happened with the food?” Jo asks, as they arrange their blankets on the cement floor. Dean feels that little pang of guilt again and tries to swallow it down.
“I just couldn’t risk it,” Dean offers honestly. “When I went back, I saw the Official I had killed next to the bag of food. He’d been dragged back there. It felt like...”
“A warning?” Jo asks.
“No,” Dean says, shaking his head. “It felt like a trap to lure me away from you two.”
Jo doesn’t say anything after that, and Sam doesn’t ask any questions or seek any answers.
They pull out all the blankets they have, lay on the ground and use their bags for pillows. Dean rests a hand over Sam’s heart, a reassurance, a comfort, to let Sam feel safe enough to sleep. He often gets nervous in the dark, can’t relax himself enough to sleep with two senses down. Dean’s touch allows him the reassurance that if something wakes Dean up, then the movement will wake Sam up, too.
Dean lets his eyes slip closed and feels Sam relax beside him. He focuses on his breathing and allows himself to slip into the darkness.
It’s still night when he wakes up. He knows that much. He slowly sits up, suddenly alert, feeling on edge although he can’t quite figure out why. There’s the sound of a bird squawking, and then a loud snap, and Dean heads towards the door and opens it slightly. The sky is still dark, but the stars are hidden by thick, rolling sheets of smoke, rising higher and higher. The forest around them is lit up in a blaze, a bright wall of fire that’s eating everything around it, and it’s growing closer and closer.
“Wake up!” Dean shouts, turning back around in the room. He firmly shakes Sam’s shoulders as Jo sits up beside him, and Sam opens his eyes, gives Dean a confused look. Dean’s expression must be enough, because Sam’s eyes grow wide and he abruptly sits up and makes the signs for what danger, as if now the first thing to ask when he wakes up in the morning is what they’re running from today. It hurts Dean that that’s the status quo now.
He doesn’t have time to think over it, or even answer Sam, because Sam is standing up now, shoving blankets into bags. Jo is pulling them out of the door, the three of them grabbing their bags from the floor, and tugging on their sleeves to drag them away from the blazing trees. Dean is following beside Sam without really processing what it going on, allowing his instincts to keep carrying him forward.
They’re running as fast as they can away from the fire, and it’s loud, hot and fierce behind them, eating along the forest floor. They jump over a log and run in a zig zag formation, trying to get away from the movement of the flames. Dean keeps Sam in front of him, and checks over his shoulder each time they turn to make sure they’re getting away.
They reach a tiny bubbling spring brook, and follow it along in the darkness, running in the middle of it, water splashing beneath their feet. It begins to widen out and the smoke begins to grow less dense above them, and the heat stops clawing at their backs. They slow down and catch their breath, the fire behind them, at a safe enough distance to carry on walking.
“Shit,” Dean gasps out. “If I hadn’t woken up...”
He doesn’t finish the sentence and Jo shakes her head at him, getting out her bottle of water. Dean gets out his own and takes a sip before passing it to Sam who takes a few gulps.
“Do you think...” Dean stops to get his breath back, and says, “Do you think that was the Officials?”
Sam studies him in the gloom and frowns. “Officials?” he repeats, hands making the sign.
“Maybe,” Jo says, looking back in the direction of the flames, where the forest is a little brighter in the distance, and birds are still screeching. “It’s a thought.”
Do they know we’re here? Sam asks, and Dean concentrates hard on his hands in the darkness.
It’s a disconcerting thought, and one that could very likely be true.
No, Dean says. It’s probably just a scare tactic. Not for us.
Sam nods and Jo takes a few more moments before they start walking again, never moving far away from the stream as if it’s a security blanket. They walk until their legs are aching, before they stop and rest, and sleep fitfully into the morning.
The next day, Dean wakes up to find Sam is already awake, sitting against the trunk of a tree with a troubled expression on his face. Dean eats a mouthful of berries and drinks some water before walking over, careful not to wake Jo who’s still asleep.
What’s wrong, Sammy? Dean asks, a question that’s too loaded to answer simply. He sits opposite Sam and crosses his legs beneath him, hoping he’ll get Sammy to spill. Sam gives a little shrug and tugs a blade of grass out of the ground. Dean taps his wrist for attention and waits until Sam’s hands start moving.
Dad, is all he says. Dean thinks that could mean a number of things, not just the obvious, but settles on the easiest thing he can say.
He’s okay. He always is.
That’s not what I mean, Sam says, and pauses as if collecting his thoughts, mulling them over and splitting them apart for dissection. I understand now. I understand why I had to leave school, and I was so mad at him.
Dean gulps, wants to look away but can’t tear his eyes from Sam’s hands.
He knew. About us leaving. I get that. But I feel guilty. I feel really guilty, because I want to say I’m sorry, that I didn’t mean it. A small sound escapes Sam’s throat and Dean looks up at his face, sees him biting his lip and that his eyes are wet. It’s just too late now, you know?
Dean does know, wishes too that their dad was here with them, knows that if anyone would know what to do then it would be him.
I know, Sammy. You’ll get to say it. Sooner than you think.
Sam doesn’t reply, starts pulling more grass from the earth and Dean doesn’t push it. He knows when Sam needs his space, respects it whenever he can, and stands up and walks a few meters away. It’s enough, he thinks, and sits down against the trunk of a tree, and allows himself to forget all his thoughts in the warmth of the sun.
After Jo wakes up, they refill their water bottles from the fresh stream and Dean uses the bow and arrow for a quick hunt in the woods. He brings back a rabbit, which they cook and quickly eat, before heading off in search of the next Region.
They’re near the edge of the border when something grabs Dean’s attention. Like a well-rehearsed play, they all drop to the ground and get their weapons at the ready, Dean quickly relaying what he sees with his hands for Sam. His anxiety drops almost immediately when he sees two boys stumble through the woods, so unconcealed and conspicuous it’s a wonder they’re still alive.
Dean sighs and stands up, and walks into the small opening in front of him. The two boys stop immediately when they see him, and then Sam and Jo come into view and they take a hesitant step backwards.
“It’s okay,” Dean says quietly, placating. He doesn’t want to scare them off. He just wants to pass them without trouble. “We’re not going to hurt you. We’re just going to the next Region.”
The dark-haired boy steps forward and looks Dean straight in the eye. It shocks Dean that there’s something different about him. Something about the way he holds himself that’s different to the boy beside him. He looks fearless almost, and not only that, but he holds himself in a way that makes him appear untouchable. He wonders if his first impression was a little wrong, and Dean moves his hand to his belt where his blade is kept just for precaution.
But then the boy sags a little bit, offers a small smile, and Dean can see his tired eyes and knows it was all for show.
“Hello,” he calls out, voice steady but laced with exhaustion. “We’re also crossing over to the next Region.”
Dean checks to make sure Sam and Jo are beside him, then slowly starts walking forwards. “Figured that much,” he says, stopping a few meters away. Dean can tell by their clothes that they’re from a slightly higher Region than they are, perhaps a little more money but no more respect from the Highlands. Their region would have been invaded as much as his was, maybe even more so.
“My name is Gabriel,” the other boy says, watching Dean with cool eyes, that aren’t all that threatening but sharp, attuned. “This is Castiel.”
Dean can read the big brother vibe from him, and he tugs a little on Sam’s sleeve. Sam turns to look at him and raises his eyebrows.
G-a-b-r-i-e-l, he spells out, pointing to the sandy-haired boy, and then points to the younger one and falters a moment before spelling out, C-a-s.
Dean turns back and sees them watching him with intrigue. “This is my brother, Sam,” Dean says, and gives them a warning glare, an expression to show that he’s the big brother and nobody is even getting close to Sam without ending up with a blade in their neck.
“And this is Jo,” Dean says, and Jo gives them a small smile.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Castiel says, voice quiet but still firm and steady. He has a low timbre to it that Dean likes, reminds him almost of home and his dad, but that’s a thought he quells before it properly manages to surface. He can’t afford to dwell on things like that, not now.
“Likewise,” Jo says, shifting the bow on her shoulder. An uncomfortable silence follows as if they’re at a standstill, unsure where to go next. Dean watches Cas with interest, who seems to be watching him back, but Dean doesn’t break the eye contact, doesn’t want to be seen as weak. Cas either doesn’t understand social interaction or is playing the same game, because he continues to stare back, lips parted a little and head tilted to the side. Dean feels two taps on his shoulder and he turns to Sam and watches as he says, Are they coming with us?
Dean gives a minute shake of his head, just enough for Sam to read, thinking about what their dad would say. They would just be an inconvenience, that’s all. He can’t take on two more people to watch out for.
“Okay, well, this has been great and all, but we’re going to the Region, now,” Dean says, turning right and walking away. They’re just past the two boys when Dean hears, “Wait.”
He turns and sees the older one, Gabriel, looking at him with anxious eyes. “Can we not go together? All of us? Wouldn’t it be safer that way?”
Dean glances between Gabriel and Cas and wonders if the little brother isn’t the braver one in the situation, which he sees as a little odd. Dean is about to refuse, to tell them he wants nothing to do with them, when he feels another tap on his shoulder.
Let them, Dean, Sam says, and Dean raises his eyebrows, and thinks about it for all of five seconds before giving in. He can never resist that kid anything.
“Fine,” Dean says, “but if you get us in trouble, or slow us down in any way, you’re on your own.”
“Of course,” Cas says, and starts to walk towards them, Gabriel following. “We won’t be any trouble.”
“Good,” Dean says, and turns to see Sam smiling at him. Dean ruffles Sam's hair, his smile turning into a scowl, and Dean smirks.
They walk together in the general direction of where they think the next Region is, but none of them really know. Sam sticks beside Dean but Jo falls back to chat with Gabriel, and Cas ends up the other side of Dean, who watches them, curiously.
“If you’ve got something to say, dude, then just say it,” Dean says, narrowing his eyes. Cas continues to watch him and cocks his head slightly, looking confused.
“Have you been walking long?” he asks.
Dean blinks at the question and tries to re-formulate what he was going to say. “A few days,” Dean says slowly, trying to figure out where Cas is going with this.
“You seem well trained in surviving,” Cas comments and Dean gives a little shrug.
“I guess so.”
They’re silent again as they walk along, Sam occasionally saying something with his hands, and Castiel eyeing them again curiously each time they converse. Dean catches his eye and Cas continues to stare at him, eyes assessing and curious, and Dean turns away, feeling a blush creep up his cheeks from the intensity of it.
“What?” Dean snaps, after the third time of it happening.
“That seems like a clever way to discuss,” he says, and Dean is once again a little thrown by what comes out of this guy’s mouth. He catches on a moment later when he sees Cas watching Sam’s hands, and Dean shrugs, trying to get past the uncomfortable feeling of Cas’ sharp gaze constantly watching him.
“Well it works for us,” Dean says. “I don’t know - hey, get down.”
Everyone freezes and Dean indicates for Sam to be quiet, and they lower behind bushes, peering past the leaves. There’s a blur of movement ahead of them but it’s just a deer, and Dean breathes out relief, and signals everyone to stand up again.
They carry on walking onwards, at a slower pace as the day grows hotter. Cas continues walking by Dean’s side, and Dean watches as his eyes take in the land around them and he takes careful steps through the underbrush.
“Do you know much about the woodlands and forests?” Dean asks, curious about how adept he is at survival.
Cas cocks his head slightly to one side as they walk along and Dean feels his breath hitch at the intense gaze, and he has to pull his eyes away and focus on the ground beneath for fear of tripping.
“Not a lot,” Cas says. “My brothers taught me some, and my mother taught me how to make some medicines. We lived in a small village by a forest, but we never had to survive like this.”
“Medicines?” Dean asks, interest piqued. “Like herbal stuff?”
“For colds and fevers. Simple things.”
Dean’s never had the herbal capabilities, never having learnt what to use to treat what illness. He knows the basics, and which berries are for eating and which are for medicines, but it’s a fine skill, and he feels surprisingly comforted by the fact that Cas is with them.
Dean eyes the bag on Cas’ back, which looks old and torn in places, but a good enough size for necessary supplies.
“What do you have with you?” Dean asks, nodding to the bag.
“Clothes and water,” he says. “And a spare leather pouch.” Cas looks towards Sam, Jo, and Gabriel, and then back to Dean. “Is she family, Dean?”
“Close enough,” he answers, ducking under a loose branch. He takes a moment to decide which path is easiest to travel through, with brambles and roots beneath their feet, and turns slightly left before continuing. “What about your brother. Does he have any skills with this?”
“More than me. He left home a few years ago, and lives in the forest near our village in a separate cabin.” Cas goes quieter, and he says, “He came back for us when the Officials arrived, but we became separated.”
Dean knows how that feels, and he doesn’t say anything, but feels a little bit closer to the boy beside him, like he can understand him better.
The carry on walking until they reach a small clearing, with a fallen log in the middle. They decide to sit and eat lunch in the hot, humid weather, and pass around a flask of water. Dean sits next to Jo to talk to her about getting towards the border and if they’re going in the right direction, and the other three sit sharing berries on the fallen log.
Dean looks over once he’s stopped talking with Jo, to see Cas handing Sam something with a small smile. Sam reaches out to take it and Dean leans forward a little, to see past Gabriel, and sees it’s a slingshot.
“You can probably use it better than I can, anyway,” Cas says, offering it. Sam watches him with wide eyes and begins to shake his head, when Cas says, “I insist. It’s yours.”
Sam smiles at him, all dimples, and just like that some of the anxiety he was harboring about letting these two strangers come along is gone, and he finally feels like he can relax.
“I like them. Both of them. They’re not so bad,” Jo says quietly from beside him.
“Nah,” Dean says, smiling. “I guess not.”
Cas looks over then, as if he had heard them talking, and meets Dean’s gaze. He smiles, just a small thing, and Dean looks back to Jo as she begins to talk again, and smiles to himself at the warmth that’s filling his chest.
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