The Wild Ones: Chapter Nine
Pain.
That was an important step in their strategy to find their brothers, evidently.
Dean had barely brushed his fingers against Castiel and Gabriel's chests, though his brows had been furrowed in concentration. They'd only been researching for a couple of hours when he beckoned them over, perfectly innocent, and then set their ribs alight.
Castiel cried out and Gabriel collapsed to his knees. Bobby shouted something in the distance-it sounded too far away to still be the library-but his ribs were on fire and the pain-
-was suddenly gone.
“What,” Gabriel gasped, “in the fucking fuck was that?”
“Sigils,” Dean said, sounding-as Castiel was becoming accustomed to-unapologetic. “Cousins to the wards you put up, etched into your ribs. Means angels can’t find you now. And before you ask, yeah. Even me. And, bonus, they can’t be damaged if you get yourselves scratched up.”
He glanced over at Bobby. “Ready for yours?” he asked.
“Like hell,” Bobby growled. “If you think I’m gonna sit still while you torture me-”
“It’s like a tattoo,” Dean said. “Come on. A few seconds of pain for a lifetime of protection.”
“You couldn’t have done this before your brother kidnapped ours?” Gabriel snapped, his hands still massaging his sides.
Castiel was too breathless to tell him to stop annoying Dean, but he managed to shoot his brother an ugly look.
“Well, I didn’t exactly anticipate my brother getting kidnapped and brainwashed,” Dean said, his voice surprisingly even given Gabriel’s goading, “but what I did anticipate was your totally predictable bitchiness about me giving you angel Kevlar.”
“A warning would have been nice.”
“We all want things we can’t have,” Dean replied.
“For example, a lead on our brothers,” Castiel said. Dean's jovial expression fell.
“Not like there's a lot of people I can talk to, since I'm apparently on Heaven's shit list now thanks to Sam's crap and what I did to Victor, but the few that will talk to me haven't seen anything,” Dean said wearily. “Or they won't admit to it. But I don't think they were lying.”
Castiel sighed, palming at his ribs. They'd been through this before-Dean had vanishingly few angels willing to talk to him. He couldn't locate Samandriel, either. That probably meant that Sam was using wards, which in turn meant he didn't want to be found.
That revelation had hit hard. If Sam didn't want to be found, then he had a plan for Samandriel. Castiel didn't want to think about what that plan might be.
Bobby and Gabriel's contacts were dry, with no sightings of either Sam or Samandriel. They'd tried a locator spell that Bobby had dug up, to disappointing results.
Castiel knew intellectually that this was not like other kidnappings. But he'd had enough friends and acquaintances on the street disappear that he could hear the echoes of the police officers' words about how each hour that passed without finding a missing person made it less likely that they would be found. Every tick of the clock weighed heavier than the last on his heart.
It seemed that there was little to do but wait and hope that Samandriel could get a message to Dean, that his prayers could break through the wards, that he'd even know that he should pray, but that seemed insufferable.
How could he sit, safe at Bobby's, while Samandriel was in danger?
Dean sighed heavily.
Castiel looked up at him just in time to see the rock come hurtling through the window behind him.
“Dean!” he cried, throwing his arm over his eyes and rotating his back toward the window. He heard Dean curse and duck out of the way.
“What the hell?” Bobby shouted, grabbing a rifle from behind his desk. Dean was already going to the window, his blade slipped into his hand. Castiel followed behind him.
Ruby stood in the yard, waving cheerfully, another equally large rock in her other hand.
“What the hell,” Dean growled.
“Got it in one!” Ruby said. “If you kids are done playing Hardy Boys in there and want some actual information about your little Amber Alerts, come out and talk.”
Castiel froze, and he could feel Dean do the same in front of him.
Then Dean lunged forward and started to kick out the rest of the window, despite Bobby's protests. Castiel ran to the window, grabbing Dean's arm.
The angel glared at him, but didn't shake him off.
“She's a demon, Cas.”
Castiel swallowed, not sure how to tell Dean that he already knew, which was okay for now because Dean was still talking.
“We're up to our necks in crap as it is. We don't need demons, too. I'm gonna get rid of her before she can call for back-up.”
He kicked the jagged shards of glass out from the bottom of the frame. Bobby growled behind them, but didn't seem really eager to start a fight with Dean over a window.
“Dean, she says she has information,” Castiel said.
Dean's back was to him, but he made a visible effort to relax before he turned back around. His eyes were sharp and a little suspicious when they met Castiel's.
“And what could possibly make you think that she's telling the truth?”
Castiel stammered something that was maybe the beginning of the word well, but another crash to his right-about six inches from Dean's head-interrupted him.
“I'm on a schedule here, kids!” Ruby called. “So's Samandriel, actually.”
Dean snarled and kicked the last piece of glass out of his way. Castiel gripped his arm again, and this time Dean did shake him off.
“You give me one fucking reason why I shouldn't gank this bitch right now,” Dean demanded, his hand white-knuckled around his blade.
“Dean,” Castiel began, but couldn't force the words out.
“Cas,” Dean said, mimicking Castiel's tone.
“Dean, I-” His voice petered out again.
“Castiel, you have ten seconds, and then I'm going out and killing her. Ten. Nine.”
Gabriel shouldered his way to the window, shotgun now in hand.
“Who is that?” he demanded.
“Her name is Ruby,” Castiel blurted out. “Her name is Ruby, and I think she's telling the truth.”
Dean and Gabriel both fixed him with sharp gazes, and he was pretty sure he could feel Bobby's eyes on him, too.
“How do you know that?” Dean asked, his voice quiet and dangerous.
“She ran into me when I slipped away back in Pontiac,” Castiel said. “And she picked me up after I banished you and Sam. I don't know what she wants with me but she knew I was with you the whole time.”
He met Dean's eyes, and had time to flinch away before Dean grabbed the collar of his shirt. He only held it for a moment before he released it, keeping his hand spread like it was a mighty effort of will not to grab on and shake Castiel.
“You were taken by a demon,” Dean said slowly, “and you didn't think it was important to tell somebody?”
“She didn't hurt me,” Castiel said. “And I didn't know who to trust.”
Dean's face, Castiel had learned over the time he'd known him, was very expressive-sometimes so much so that it was difficult to keep up. Now, his expression flickered from hurt to pity to guilt, and then back to a cold, firm anger.
He took a long, slow breath, and released it, measured and even.
“We are gonna have a talk about withholding information,” he said, sounding purposefully reasonable. “Okay?”
“Tick tock!” Ruby called, bouncing another stone in her hand. “If you need another wake-up these rocks can just keep coming.”
“I think we should talk to her,” Castiel said. “No one else is talking to us, and she might really know something.”
Dean scowled, but Castiel could see the moment where he gave in. He walked away from the window abruptly and Castiel followed him, walking quickly to keep up with the angel's long strides as he stalked toward the doorway.
Ruby grinned and threw the remaining stone over her shoulder. She stuck her hands in her back pockets as Dean slammed the door open. He walked onto the front yard, Castiel, Gabriel, and Bobby following close behind.
“You can start talking, bitch,” Dean said, still striding toward her.
She pouted, but her mouth still quirked up at the side. “Come on, Dean, you're not happy to see me? I am literally the only person on any plane of existence who both can and will help you find your brother. I think that merits a hello.”
“Hello,” Dean ground out, stopping in front of her and running his thumb over his blade. “You can start talking now, bitch.”
“Sure. Hey, Cas. Long time no see.”
Castiel crossed his arms and frowned, which made Ruby laugh.
“Everybody's so mad at me. Well, not the old guy, and not-oof,” Ruby said, glancing past Dean at Gabriel. “You look like roadkill.”
“She's a charmer,” Gabriel said. “You just attract the nicest people, Castiel.”
“Seriously, you look real strung out. You wanna do something about that later, you hit me up, kid.”
She grinned. Gabriel grew very still.
“But anyway. I have info. You need info.”
Dean strode up to her and grabbed her by the throat. His hand wrapped most of the way around her neck. He pulled up enough to force her to rise to her toes, but her expression remained startlingly defiant and unafraid. She even smiled as she looked up at the angel.
“You kill me, you never find your brother, or that boy he kidnapped,” she said. Her voice was hoarse but even.
“I'm not gonna repeat myself again,” Dean said. “Information. Now.”
Ruby grabbed his wrist and slammed her fist into the inside of his elbow. With a grunt, he dropped her. She staggered one step before righting herself, rubbing her neck.
“I'm not doing this out of the goodness of my heart, Feathers,” she said. “I am risking my neck here. Hell's going to be on my ass after this, so I want protection.”
“Yeah fucking right,” Gabriel scoffed, but Dean held up a hand to quiet him.
“What do you get out of it?” he asked.
“Whether my idiot bosses realize it or not, it's not in our best interests to have Heaven controlling all the pieces on the board,” Ruby said. “I want to fuck with John as much as you do right now. And what the fuck does it matter? You want Sam and Samandriel away from John. I want that, too. You can work with me or you can kiss them both good-bye.”
She smirked, holding her arms out.
“Column A and Column B, baby. What's it gonna be?”
It was a bit absurd, watching Ruby and Dean face off against one another. Dean had a good foot on her, and probably a hundred pounds, but Ruby stood her ground. She had all the cards, and she knew it.
“Dean,” Castiel said softly.
Dean held his hand out. Grinning widely, Ruby took it.
He pulled her in. Castiel could hear him whisper to her.
“If you double-cross me, I will make you hurt before I kill you.”
“You do say the sweetest things,” Ruby said. “This time you don't have to worry about backstabbing.”
They separated. Ruby rolled her shoulders back.
“Amboy, Minnesota,” she said. “John's got them holed up in an abandoned farmhouse. I don't have anything more specific than that, but I figure once you get there you can figure out where there's a gaping hole in your senses from those wards, right?”
Dean nodded absently. “I'll find them from here. Cas, you come with me. Bobby, you don’t happen to be packing any holy oil, huh?”
Bobby didn’t answer for a moment.
Castiel looked over to him. His eyes were wide, and then he made a face that Castiel knew meant he was grudgingly impressed. “Yeah. I got some in the library.”
Dean did a very good recreation of Bobby’s exact pause-huh-hot damn process. “The hell you have holy oil for?”
“I’m guessing for using on sons of bitches like you, now,” Bobby said. “But I heard it wasn’t half bad for getting rid of demons if you’re in a pinch.”
“You’re right about that,” Dean said emphatically. “And I’m going to guess you have angel wards up in your panic room.”
“You bet your ass.”
“Great. Grab me that holy oil. Gabriel, get Ruby here inside and you keep an eye on her. If this lead's a bad one, I'll need her at least mostly intact when I get back.”
“Mostly,” Gabriel said, pulling out a knife and grabbing Ruby by the arm while Bobby went inside to get the oil. “Check.”
Ruby rolled her eyes. “Oh, my God. Spare me the dramatics. I want to come with you.”
“Yeah, and you think that makes me real comfortable?” Gabriel asked, tugging her along. “Let's get inside, princess.”
“You pick cute humans, Dean,” Ruby called over her shoulder.
Bobby gave her an odd look as he crossed them on the porch, but just shook his head and walked back into the yard. He had in his hands a fragile-looking clay vessel with a bulbous base and thin, delicate neck. Its cracked, dusty colors brought to Castiel's mind an ancient desert.
“This is the only one I got,” Bobby said, “so don't break it and don't use more than you got to.”
“I won't,” Dean said, taking the vessel carefully and reverently as Bobby handed it to him. He held it like it was a bomb.
He turned to Castiel. “Ready?”
“Ready as I'm going to be,” Castiel said.
Dean nodded, shifted his grip on the oil, and pressed his fingers against Castiel's forehead.
Amboy, Minnesota was a small, rural town, a square gathering of homes and farms and businesses right off of the highway. The landed outside of a cafe on what seemed to be the main commercial drag-a doubled row of red brick stores and grey industrial buildings, with cozy homes visible on the side streets. It was quiet, peaceful. Castiel couldn't imagine that his brother was being held here.
“Ruby said a farmhouse,” he said, peering off toward the horizon. “That's probably not going to be in the center of town.”
“There are farmhouses all over.” Dean frowned fiercely at the white picket fence surrounding the cafe. “That doesn't give us shit to go on.”
“It gives us more than we had before,” Castiel said. Dean turned his frown on him. “Look, I don't like working with Ruby any more than you do-”
“Even though she approached you twice and you didn't tell me.”
“-but you can't deny that she is the only one to give us anything like a lead.”
Dean's frown deepened into a scowl, but he just rolled his eyes and blew out a sigh. “We've got a lot of fucking farmland to cover if we're gonna find them. Let's get started.”
Dean took off down the street. Castiel hurried to keep up, wondering what kind of picture they made to the locals. Dean walked like a predator that had the scent of its prey, and Castiel was pretty sure he was scuttling behind him like he was just grateful that the prey wasn't him.
They didn't have to walk far in any direction to run out of town, especially at the pace that Dean set. The eastern side was bounded by farmland, but no particularly promising abandoned houses; Highway 169 lay to the west. The town stopped abruptly to the north and south, pretty residential streets dropping off precipitously into ruler-lined fields of crops. Finally, they had to admit that Sam and Samandriel were probably not in Amboy proper, and Dean decided that east was the best place to start.
Highway 30 stretched out, straight and exhausting, into the horizon. After thirty minutes of silent walking Castiel had had enough silence.
“This John guy,” he said.
Dean grunted.
“He's, um. Is he also your brother?”
Dean looked at him, then, and nodded tightly.
“Yeah. He's my brother.”
“Your older brother?”
Dean sighed, sounding irritated. Castiel almost withdrew the question before Dean started talking.
“They're all my brothers. The angels. Brothers and sisters. There's not really-we don't have older or younger siblings, not like you do. We were all created at about the same time, but we received our orders at different times. I've been in our garrison longer than Sammy has, John has been in his garrison way longer than I have, Michael received his orders pretty much right after creation.”
Castiel knew he looked wide-eyed and awed, but he couldn't help it. “What did you do before you received your orders?”
“Worshiped,” Dean said simply.
“For how long?”
Dean laughed. “Cas, I don't even-you don't have words for it. Eons.”
It seemed unfathomable. Maybe it was what Sam had said about Dean’s body being new, but he seemed like nothing but a container for barely-restrained energy. His eyes darted from place to place as they walked, his fingers drummed out a rhythm against his thigh as he spoke. Quiet did not suit him.
“But John spent less time,” Castiel said.
Dean shrugged. “Yeah. I mean...yeah. He got his orders, he took his place among the Militant. And later, so did I, and so did Sammy.”
“Was it hard?” Castiel asked.
Dean quieted.
“To fight, to be a soldier, after all that time.”
Dean looked at him, then, piercing. It took an act of will for Castiel not to flinch away from that penetrating stare. But it softened after a moment, and Dean turned his eyes to the road ahead.
“We follow the Will of God,” Dean said. “We don't question.”
“I find that hard to believe, having met you. And Sam.”
Dean didn't look back, but the tugging of a grin at his lip was satisfying.
“Me and Sammy, we've always been...off,” Dean said.
It was said like a blessing, like a beloved nickname. Off.
“Off, like-”
“Wait.” Dean held up his hand and his eyes grew unfocused, but still sharply aware-it felt to Castiel like the angel was staring very intently at something that wasn’t visible to his human eyes. Maybe something he didn’t have the senses to fathom, like their wings. Whatever it was, it took the totality of Dean’s attention.
Castiel lasted slightly less than a minute before he said, his voice quiet in case Dean didn’t want to be interrupted, “Dean? What is it?”
Dean’s eyes snapped back into focus and he took a moment, catching the breath that he’d been holding. “Samandriel,” he said. “He’s praying.”
“What?” Castiel sprang up, his heart racing. “Can you find him? Can you bring us there? Is Sam with him? Is he hurt?”
Dean took him by the arm and he quieted.
“I need you to trust me,” he said. Castiel nodded. He closed his eyes in preparation for flight, and with a deep breath, they took off.