SPN Fic: Which Follows Wherever You Go (NE 'Verse)
Title: Which Follows Wherever You Go
'Verse: Necessary Evil
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters: Dean, Sam, Castiel
Rating: PG-13
Warning: references to rape (though not necessariy recognizable as such)
Spoilers: Goes AU somewhere between 4.17 and 4.20.
Words: 2599
Summary: Castiel learns that trust, once lost, is very hard to regain. Especially if you betrayed the trust of Dean Winchester and hurt his little brother.
Note: Follows my fic A Necessary Evil. Reading that one first is recommended, but pay attention to the warnings!
Note 2: Another one for sinka who won my story at the help_japan auction and asked me to turn that fic into a 'verse.
Castiel entered the motel room in the afternoon. He didn’t use the door, did nothing to announce his presence. Dean was gone, had taken the car to drive to the supermarket two miles down the road. Castiel knew because he’d waited until he had left.
Dean would be breaking the speed limit wherever possible and hurry with the shopping. It was too early for the afternoon rush in the supermarket, so the lines wouldn’t be too long. Depending on various factors, Dean would be gone fifteen to thirty minutes, not longer.
Castiel had been watching him. He always left at times when a delay to his return was not likely, but never after dark. He only bought the most essential things: cheap food, coffee, shampoo and toothpaste if he had to. Their credit cards were running out and Dean didn’t dare to stay away long enough to hustle pool. His funds were extremely limited.
The room reflected that. It was small, not very clean, and the TV was broken. The shutters before the windows were closed, but light still fell in through wide gabs in the middle and in the upper half, bringing attention to the sad state of the carpet.
Sam was still in bed, still asleep. Castiel wasn’t surprised. The younger Winchester bother had been in hospital the last time the angel had seen him, and at that time he had been so ill it was obvious that he wouldn’t recover in a matter of days.
Castiel had come to help, but had been chased away by Dean before he could touch Sam. With respect to the reasons for Dean’ mistrust, he had decided to leave the brothers alone for the moment and try again later.
The next time he showed up at the hospital, Dean had banished him with an angel-repelling rune before he could say a single word.
After that it had taken him two weeks to find the brothers again.
Now Castiel moved quietly so he wouldn’t disturb the young man on the bed. A feeling washed over him as he took in the pale face, the slight flush of fever. It wasn’t a feeling he could name, one had had never felt before he met Dean and his brother. He didn’t like it.
After meeting Dean, Castiel had come to know several emotions he was not previously familiar with. Doubt was one of them. Doubt in his brothers, in the path he had always followed. It wasn’t a good feeling, led to confusion and often left him with crippling uncertainty what to do. It was a feeling that had forced him to strengthen his faith through an act of will more and more often. To remind himself that the ways of heaven had always been right and would always be right. He had clung to that unshakable knowledge because he wouldn’t have known what else to do.
The feeling that plagued him now wasn’t doubt. It was the feeling that came from knowing that he had chosen wrongly, that he caused harm that hadn’t been necessary and couldn’t be excused.
The beds in this room were high compared to most Castiel had seen. They were also hard and slightly uneven. Dean had done his best to make Sam’s bed more comfortable by spreading both their blankets over the mattress before letting his brother settle on it. He’d bought cheap woollen blankets to sleep under: one for himself, two for Sam. It was warm, so those were enough, but Castiel was well aware that this arrangement was hardly ideal.
He wondered why they hadn’t gone to stay at Robert Singer’s place, as he had expected them to.
There was an IV stand beside Sam’s bed, the line leading into his arm, its origins unknown. Castiel was certain Dean had only taken his brother from the hospital because their insurance fraud was at a risk of being discovered.
He could have helped, if they’d let him.
Sam stirred when the angel came closer, as if he could somehow sense Castiel’s presence. Castiel could not rule that out - he himself sensed the presence of this man in a way he never felt with any other human. It was the demonic blood in Sam and its contrast to Castiel’s own heavenly nature, but it did not feel like a demon. It didn’t even feel like Dean did when Castiel pulled him out of hell.
Due to their opposing natures, there was a possibility that what the angel was about to do would hurt Sam, but he accepted that risk in regard to the benefit the ill human could gain from it.
Before Castiel got close enough to touch him, though, Sam opened his eyes and sat up with sharp, shaky movements, looking confused, vaguely frightened even. Then he sat perfectly still and stared wide-eyed at a spot bright behind Castiel’s shoulder.
Casteil frowned. He hadn’t sensed any other presence in the room, and when he looked behind him, there was nothing but the wall.
“Who’s there?” Sam asked, his voice weak and trembling. And after a second’s hesitation, “…Dean?”
Castiel understood, then. Sam was blind.
“It’s Castiel,” the angel said quietly.
Sam visibly flinched at the sound of his voice. He scooted a few inches further back in bed and his face lost all remaining colour. “Dean?” he called again, louder this time.
In his long ecistence Castiel had inspired fear in the hearts of many men. He had never meant for this to happen.
“Dean has gone to the store,” he said, trying to sound friendly. “He will be back in a few minutes.” After a second, because Sam didn’t look any less afraid, he added, “I mean you no harm.”
To his surprise, Sam let out a hoarse, harsh laugh utterly devoid of humour. “What do you want, Cas?”
“I’ve come to help you.”
He had not thought it possible for Sam to look even more afraid of him. Too late he remembered that he had also claimed to act to Sam’s benefit when he and the other angels had hurt him such that this was the result.
He had believed his words to be true then, too.
“I have also come to apology,” he therefore said. “We have done you great injustice. Please believe me that I was convinced at the time that my actions would be to your benefit as well as everyone else’s.”
“You fucking… You…” Anger brought some colour back to Sam’s cheeks, but he never finished his sentence. Instead, he took a deep, shaking breath and said, “Go away, Cas. Get out before Dean comes back. If he finds you here, he’ll kill you.”
Castiel recognized the words as one of the exaggerations humans were so fond of. He still saw the need to point out the error in the words. “You know that none of your weapons is able to harm me, Sam.”
“I wouldn’t count on it,” Sam warned. “Get out, Cas! I don’t want your help.” His hand was slipping under his pillow where without doubt a weapon was hidden, but the angle was wrong and he couldn’t find it.
Due to his prolonged illness, Sam had lost weight and his shirt hung shapelessly off his once strong frame. With his unkempt hair and the IV drip in his arm he offered a truly pitiful sight.
It was Castiel’s fault. He would take responsibility for his actions and fix this.
But Sam moved away from him when he stepped closer, even though Castiel made sure not to make any sound. At this rate, he would soon fall off the bed and possibly hurt himself even worse.
“Back off!” he insisted. “Go away! We don’t want you!”
“You’re unwell. I can heal you.”
“I’d rather heal on my own.”
“You’re blind, Sam. I can fix that, too.” Castiel didn’t even know if that was true. There was no guarantee that his healing powers would work on Sam. But he had to try.
Certainly, once he had proven his good intentions and healed Sam’s body, the young man would stop being so afraid of him and Dean, too, would be more inclined to listen to him.
Castiel had much to say.
In the end, Sam had no way of stopping him. Castiel could simply take hold of him and do what he came for, but he would like to have Sam’s consent, this time.
He could not, however, afford to waste too much time on it.
Unfortunately, Sam didn’t seem inclined to calm down anytime soon. He moved away from the angel even further, reached the edge of the bed and started to lose balance. An opportunity presented itself when Castiel rushed forward to steady him, but before he could touch the young human, the door flew open and Dean came in. Castiel lost his chance when he hesitated at the sound of Dean’s voice calling his brother’s name, and the next second the barrel of a gun was pointed in his direction while Dean stormed towards them and Sam yelled, “Dean, don’t!”
It seemed like a miracle that Sam’s voice was still able to cut through this brother’s rage. Castiel had not thought it possible when Dean’s fury radiated off him in waves almost visible in the dim room, like dust in sunbeams. He understood that this was about more than hurting Sam, it was about betrayal. Dean didn’t trust easily, but Castiel he had trusted.
What was surprising was that Sam would even try to save Castiel’s life. The angel was only beginning to understand that the quality that most defined Sam Winchester, despite his obvious faults, was kindness.
And he had just saved Castiel’s life. Unlikely as it was, Castiel recognized the weapon aimed at his vessel’s chest as one that could, indeed, kill him.
Dean didn’t shoot, but he kept the weapon aimed as he hurried to his brother’s side and pulled him off the bed. A second later he stood before him, saying, “Don’t be an idiot, Sammy!”
Sam didn’t reply. He flinched when the IV line was pulled tight and ripped the needle out with a sharp tug that had droplets of blood land on the sheets of his bed.
“Where did you get that weapon?” Castiel asked, considering a swift retreat. He couldn’t help them if he was dead. Perhaps it would be better to try another time, maybe approach Dean when his brother wasn’t nearby. Explain things.
But time was of the essence. Castiel decided he had to trust Sam’s unwillingness to have anyone die because of him and Dean’s unwillingness to go against his brother’s wishes.
Dean gave him an ugly grin. “Guess what? I got it from a demon. In fact, he gave it to me so I can keep scumbags like you away from Sam.”
It was quite a surprising revelation. Castiel didn’t know what to make of it.
“I have come to warn you,” he said. There was no touching Sam right now, so he had to move on and let the brothers know of the danger they were still in. “I have found out… things, about the plans heaven has for both of you. Hell as well. There is a conspiracy going that…”
“We already know that,” Dean interrupted him. “The demon who have me this colt? He told me everything about it.”
This was becoming confusing. “Why would he do that?”
“Because he’s not interested in seeing Lucifer run around freely,” Dean snapped. “That’s what this all is about, right? It was never about stopping the apocalypse, it’s all about starting it. They need Sam to open the damn cage, and that’s why Crowley gave me the colt to keep all angels and demons away from him.”
“He didn’t tell you to simply kill Sam with it?” Castiel asked, surprised. “If your brother was killed with this gun, there is no guarantee that anyone could bring him back to life.”
Dean bared his teeth. “He said that was up to me.” Behind him Sam shifted nervously, but said nothing.
“I have not come to suggest it.” Castiel thought it was important to point that out. “I meant to warn you of what you already know. And to apologize.”
“Yeah? Try again. Sam’s blind, Cas! ‘Sorry’ kind of doesn’t cover it.”
“I do not understand how that is even possible,” the angel admitted.
“Neither do the doctors. It’s not something they have seen ever before. But in case you haven’t noticed, Sam’s got demon blood in him, and then you angels pumped him full of…” Sam flinched before Dean could even say it and the elder brother bit his lip. “Anyway, it seems that doesn’t mix so well. Made him pretty damn sick on top of everything else, and then one day he wakes up and can’t see a thing.” The line around Dan’s mouth turned hard at the memory. “I really don’t know how you could make up for that.”
“Is he completely blind?”
“Most of the time.”
“Most of the time?”
“If he’s lucky.”
Castiel didn’t know what that meant. But he had an idea what caused it. The demon blood Sam had been consuming must have strengthened the reaction his own blood had with the angels’ grace, and when the withdrawal started in the middle of that, something in Sam… broke.
Before he could voice his suspicion, Sam spoke for the first time since asking Dean not to shoot. “I don’t understand,” he said. His hand was lying on his brother’s shoulder for support, occasionally clenching or unclenching. “They nearly killed me. If they need me to kill Lilith, what was the point?”
“You were getting too strong too quickly. There was a risk of you killing Lilith before she had broken all the other seals. Also…” Castiel needed a moment to look for the right words. “Personal dislike might have been a factor as well. Your existence is, after all, an insult in the eyes of heaven. Angels are not entirely above bias.”
Judging by the look on Sam’s face and the way Dean’s hand tightened around the gun, it had not been the best way to put it.
“Right,” Dean said. “You said your piece. Now fuck off.”
“There’s more,” Castiel told him. “I can heal Sam.”
An audible click came from the colt in Dean’s hand. “I’d like to see you try.”
This time, Sam didn’t say anything to stop him. Castiel took a step back to signal he wasn’t going to attack.
“It would be easier for Sam to protect himself if he could see.”
“We’ll find a way to deal with this on our own.” Dean’s tone indicated that he had reached the limit of his patience. “If you absolutely want to help, there’s a demon-bitch running around we can’t risk killing. Take care of her.”
There was nothing more he could reach here. For today, Castiel admitted defeat. “Both angels and demons are working against you. I will do my best to protect you from them,” he promised.
“Don’t bother,” Dean said icily. “I’ll keep anything with feathers away from Sam.”
The thread was obvious. The gun was aimed at Castiel’s face now, even though a hit there would be no more or less deadly than a shot to the chest. Without another word the angel flew away to land unseen not far from the motel the brothers were likely to soon leave.
For now there was no hope of them accepting his help. He would protect them form a distance until they allowed him to do more.
July 11, 2011
'Verse: Necessary Evil
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters: Dean, Sam, Castiel
Rating: PG-13
Warning: references to rape (though not necessariy recognizable as such)
Spoilers: Goes AU somewhere between 4.17 and 4.20.
Words: 2599
Summary: Castiel learns that trust, once lost, is very hard to regain. Especially if you betrayed the trust of Dean Winchester and hurt his little brother.
Note: Follows my fic A Necessary Evil. Reading that one first is recommended, but pay attention to the warnings!
Note 2: Another one for sinka who won my story at the help_japan auction and asked me to turn that fic into a 'verse.
Castiel entered the motel room in the afternoon. He didn’t use the door, did nothing to announce his presence. Dean was gone, had taken the car to drive to the supermarket two miles down the road. Castiel knew because he’d waited until he had left.
Dean would be breaking the speed limit wherever possible and hurry with the shopping. It was too early for the afternoon rush in the supermarket, so the lines wouldn’t be too long. Depending on various factors, Dean would be gone fifteen to thirty minutes, not longer.
Castiel had been watching him. He always left at times when a delay to his return was not likely, but never after dark. He only bought the most essential things: cheap food, coffee, shampoo and toothpaste if he had to. Their credit cards were running out and Dean didn’t dare to stay away long enough to hustle pool. His funds were extremely limited.
The room reflected that. It was small, not very clean, and the TV was broken. The shutters before the windows were closed, but light still fell in through wide gabs in the middle and in the upper half, bringing attention to the sad state of the carpet.
Sam was still in bed, still asleep. Castiel wasn’t surprised. The younger Winchester bother had been in hospital the last time the angel had seen him, and at that time he had been so ill it was obvious that he wouldn’t recover in a matter of days.
Castiel had come to help, but had been chased away by Dean before he could touch Sam. With respect to the reasons for Dean’ mistrust, he had decided to leave the brothers alone for the moment and try again later.
The next time he showed up at the hospital, Dean had banished him with an angel-repelling rune before he could say a single word.
After that it had taken him two weeks to find the brothers again.
Now Castiel moved quietly so he wouldn’t disturb the young man on the bed. A feeling washed over him as he took in the pale face, the slight flush of fever. It wasn’t a feeling he could name, one had had never felt before he met Dean and his brother. He didn’t like it.
After meeting Dean, Castiel had come to know several emotions he was not previously familiar with. Doubt was one of them. Doubt in his brothers, in the path he had always followed. It wasn’t a good feeling, led to confusion and often left him with crippling uncertainty what to do. It was a feeling that had forced him to strengthen his faith through an act of will more and more often. To remind himself that the ways of heaven had always been right and would always be right. He had clung to that unshakable knowledge because he wouldn’t have known what else to do.
The feeling that plagued him now wasn’t doubt. It was the feeling that came from knowing that he had chosen wrongly, that he caused harm that hadn’t been necessary and couldn’t be excused.
The beds in this room were high compared to most Castiel had seen. They were also hard and slightly uneven. Dean had done his best to make Sam’s bed more comfortable by spreading both their blankets over the mattress before letting his brother settle on it. He’d bought cheap woollen blankets to sleep under: one for himself, two for Sam. It was warm, so those were enough, but Castiel was well aware that this arrangement was hardly ideal.
He wondered why they hadn’t gone to stay at Robert Singer’s place, as he had expected them to.
There was an IV stand beside Sam’s bed, the line leading into his arm, its origins unknown. Castiel was certain Dean had only taken his brother from the hospital because their insurance fraud was at a risk of being discovered.
He could have helped, if they’d let him.
Sam stirred when the angel came closer, as if he could somehow sense Castiel’s presence. Castiel could not rule that out - he himself sensed the presence of this man in a way he never felt with any other human. It was the demonic blood in Sam and its contrast to Castiel’s own heavenly nature, but it did not feel like a demon. It didn’t even feel like Dean did when Castiel pulled him out of hell.
Due to their opposing natures, there was a possibility that what the angel was about to do would hurt Sam, but he accepted that risk in regard to the benefit the ill human could gain from it.
Before Castiel got close enough to touch him, though, Sam opened his eyes and sat up with sharp, shaky movements, looking confused, vaguely frightened even. Then he sat perfectly still and stared wide-eyed at a spot bright behind Castiel’s shoulder.
Casteil frowned. He hadn’t sensed any other presence in the room, and when he looked behind him, there was nothing but the wall.
“Who’s there?” Sam asked, his voice weak and trembling. And after a second’s hesitation, “…Dean?”
Castiel understood, then. Sam was blind.
“It’s Castiel,” the angel said quietly.
Sam visibly flinched at the sound of his voice. He scooted a few inches further back in bed and his face lost all remaining colour. “Dean?” he called again, louder this time.
In his long ecistence Castiel had inspired fear in the hearts of many men. He had never meant for this to happen.
“Dean has gone to the store,” he said, trying to sound friendly. “He will be back in a few minutes.” After a second, because Sam didn’t look any less afraid, he added, “I mean you no harm.”
To his surprise, Sam let out a hoarse, harsh laugh utterly devoid of humour. “What do you want, Cas?”
“I’ve come to help you.”
He had not thought it possible for Sam to look even more afraid of him. Too late he remembered that he had also claimed to act to Sam’s benefit when he and the other angels had hurt him such that this was the result.
He had believed his words to be true then, too.
“I have also come to apology,” he therefore said. “We have done you great injustice. Please believe me that I was convinced at the time that my actions would be to your benefit as well as everyone else’s.”
“You fucking… You…” Anger brought some colour back to Sam’s cheeks, but he never finished his sentence. Instead, he took a deep, shaking breath and said, “Go away, Cas. Get out before Dean comes back. If he finds you here, he’ll kill you.”
Castiel recognized the words as one of the exaggerations humans were so fond of. He still saw the need to point out the error in the words. “You know that none of your weapons is able to harm me, Sam.”
“I wouldn’t count on it,” Sam warned. “Get out, Cas! I don’t want your help.” His hand was slipping under his pillow where without doubt a weapon was hidden, but the angle was wrong and he couldn’t find it.
Due to his prolonged illness, Sam had lost weight and his shirt hung shapelessly off his once strong frame. With his unkempt hair and the IV drip in his arm he offered a truly pitiful sight.
It was Castiel’s fault. He would take responsibility for his actions and fix this.
But Sam moved away from him when he stepped closer, even though Castiel made sure not to make any sound. At this rate, he would soon fall off the bed and possibly hurt himself even worse.
“Back off!” he insisted. “Go away! We don’t want you!”
“You’re unwell. I can heal you.”
“I’d rather heal on my own.”
“You’re blind, Sam. I can fix that, too.” Castiel didn’t even know if that was true. There was no guarantee that his healing powers would work on Sam. But he had to try.
Certainly, once he had proven his good intentions and healed Sam’s body, the young man would stop being so afraid of him and Dean, too, would be more inclined to listen to him.
Castiel had much to say.
In the end, Sam had no way of stopping him. Castiel could simply take hold of him and do what he came for, but he would like to have Sam’s consent, this time.
He could not, however, afford to waste too much time on it.
Unfortunately, Sam didn’t seem inclined to calm down anytime soon. He moved away from the angel even further, reached the edge of the bed and started to lose balance. An opportunity presented itself when Castiel rushed forward to steady him, but before he could touch the young human, the door flew open and Dean came in. Castiel lost his chance when he hesitated at the sound of Dean’s voice calling his brother’s name, and the next second the barrel of a gun was pointed in his direction while Dean stormed towards them and Sam yelled, “Dean, don’t!”
It seemed like a miracle that Sam’s voice was still able to cut through this brother’s rage. Castiel had not thought it possible when Dean’s fury radiated off him in waves almost visible in the dim room, like dust in sunbeams. He understood that this was about more than hurting Sam, it was about betrayal. Dean didn’t trust easily, but Castiel he had trusted.
What was surprising was that Sam would even try to save Castiel’s life. The angel was only beginning to understand that the quality that most defined Sam Winchester, despite his obvious faults, was kindness.
And he had just saved Castiel’s life. Unlikely as it was, Castiel recognized the weapon aimed at his vessel’s chest as one that could, indeed, kill him.
Dean didn’t shoot, but he kept the weapon aimed as he hurried to his brother’s side and pulled him off the bed. A second later he stood before him, saying, “Don’t be an idiot, Sammy!”
Sam didn’t reply. He flinched when the IV line was pulled tight and ripped the needle out with a sharp tug that had droplets of blood land on the sheets of his bed.
“Where did you get that weapon?” Castiel asked, considering a swift retreat. He couldn’t help them if he was dead. Perhaps it would be better to try another time, maybe approach Dean when his brother wasn’t nearby. Explain things.
But time was of the essence. Castiel decided he had to trust Sam’s unwillingness to have anyone die because of him and Dean’s unwillingness to go against his brother’s wishes.
Dean gave him an ugly grin. “Guess what? I got it from a demon. In fact, he gave it to me so I can keep scumbags like you away from Sam.”
It was quite a surprising revelation. Castiel didn’t know what to make of it.
“I have come to warn you,” he said. There was no touching Sam right now, so he had to move on and let the brothers know of the danger they were still in. “I have found out… things, about the plans heaven has for both of you. Hell as well. There is a conspiracy going that…”
“We already know that,” Dean interrupted him. “The demon who have me this colt? He told me everything about it.”
This was becoming confusing. “Why would he do that?”
“Because he’s not interested in seeing Lucifer run around freely,” Dean snapped. “That’s what this all is about, right? It was never about stopping the apocalypse, it’s all about starting it. They need Sam to open the damn cage, and that’s why Crowley gave me the colt to keep all angels and demons away from him.”
“He didn’t tell you to simply kill Sam with it?” Castiel asked, surprised. “If your brother was killed with this gun, there is no guarantee that anyone could bring him back to life.”
Dean bared his teeth. “He said that was up to me.” Behind him Sam shifted nervously, but said nothing.
“I have not come to suggest it.” Castiel thought it was important to point that out. “I meant to warn you of what you already know. And to apologize.”
“Yeah? Try again. Sam’s blind, Cas! ‘Sorry’ kind of doesn’t cover it.”
“I do not understand how that is even possible,” the angel admitted.
“Neither do the doctors. It’s not something they have seen ever before. But in case you haven’t noticed, Sam’s got demon blood in him, and then you angels pumped him full of…” Sam flinched before Dean could even say it and the elder brother bit his lip. “Anyway, it seems that doesn’t mix so well. Made him pretty damn sick on top of everything else, and then one day he wakes up and can’t see a thing.” The line around Dan’s mouth turned hard at the memory. “I really don’t know how you could make up for that.”
“Is he completely blind?”
“Most of the time.”
“Most of the time?”
“If he’s lucky.”
Castiel didn’t know what that meant. But he had an idea what caused it. The demon blood Sam had been consuming must have strengthened the reaction his own blood had with the angels’ grace, and when the withdrawal started in the middle of that, something in Sam… broke.
Before he could voice his suspicion, Sam spoke for the first time since asking Dean not to shoot. “I don’t understand,” he said. His hand was lying on his brother’s shoulder for support, occasionally clenching or unclenching. “They nearly killed me. If they need me to kill Lilith, what was the point?”
“You were getting too strong too quickly. There was a risk of you killing Lilith before she had broken all the other seals. Also…” Castiel needed a moment to look for the right words. “Personal dislike might have been a factor as well. Your existence is, after all, an insult in the eyes of heaven. Angels are not entirely above bias.”
Judging by the look on Sam’s face and the way Dean’s hand tightened around the gun, it had not been the best way to put it.
“Right,” Dean said. “You said your piece. Now fuck off.”
“There’s more,” Castiel told him. “I can heal Sam.”
An audible click came from the colt in Dean’s hand. “I’d like to see you try.”
This time, Sam didn’t say anything to stop him. Castiel took a step back to signal he wasn’t going to attack.
“It would be easier for Sam to protect himself if he could see.”
“We’ll find a way to deal with this on our own.” Dean’s tone indicated that he had reached the limit of his patience. “If you absolutely want to help, there’s a demon-bitch running around we can’t risk killing. Take care of her.”
There was nothing more he could reach here. For today, Castiel admitted defeat. “Both angels and demons are working against you. I will do my best to protect you from them,” he promised.
“Don’t bother,” Dean said icily. “I’ll keep anything with feathers away from Sam.”
The thread was obvious. The gun was aimed at Castiel’s face now, even though a hit there would be no more or less deadly than a shot to the chest. Without another word the angel flew away to land unseen not far from the motel the brothers were likely to soon leave.
For now there was no hope of them accepting his help. He would protect them form a distance until they allowed him to do more.
July 11, 2011