Miracle Anti-Aging Cream (1/?)vikkiMarch 26 2010, 19:17:50 UTC
The spell had been aimed for Sam, but in a case of improbable timing, it missed. Castiel plucked the hex bag out of Sam's pocket, and it promptly burst into flames so hot they were blue.
"Holy--!" Dean and Sam both jerked back; Castiel startled and dropped the burning bag on the motel room floor. More out of reflex than anything else, Dean hurled the contents of his soda cup onto the conflagration, dowsing it and leaving a pile of half-burned burlap, charred bones, ashes, and a sizable soda stain. Dean and Sam eyed the remains warily, while Castiel studied his hand.
Dean looked up. "I take it that wasn't you?" he asked Castiel. At the same time Sam asked, "Are you okay, Cas?"
Castiel lowered his hand, showing pink, shiny skin, like a newly-healed burn scar. "I'm fine." He crouched, peering down at the soaked bag, apparently immune to the foul smell. "That was an ... unusual reaction."
Dean and Sam crouched beside him, grimacing and waving hands in front of their faces; Sam reached down to finger the contents, but Dean grabbed his wrist. "Dude, don't touch it, that thing was meant for you," he hissed.
Sam scowled, but he turned to Castiel. "An unusual reaction to what? You?"
"Yes," Castiel answered, and now he reached down to spread the soaked contents of the bag. "The burlap was first soaked in blood. This is the incisor of a toddler. Shortgrass tied together with horsehair." He frowned.
"What was it supposed to do?" Sam asked.
"I'm not certain," Castiel admitted, and Dean groaned.
"Who cares? Whatever it was, it's sick shit." He slapped his hands on his knees. "At least we know who it is now; let's go kill the sonuvabitch." He whirled to the duffel bags. "Cas, you in?"
Castiel hesitated, but nodded as he stood. Sam sighed loudly. "How about we not go charging in guns blazing, for once? Have, oh, you know, a plan of attack?"
"Here's the plan: we go in, we kill the sucker, we get out! He tried to kill you, Sam," Dean snarled. At Sam's pursed lips, he tossed a sheathed knife in his direction; Sam caught it. "We'll talk about it on the way, all right?"
Nobody noticed when the fine lines at the edges of Castiel's eyes faded away.
"Holy--!" Dean and Sam both jerked back; Castiel startled and dropped the burning bag on the motel room floor. More out of reflex than anything else, Dean hurled the contents of his soda cup onto the conflagration, dowsing it and leaving a pile of half-burned burlap, charred bones, ashes, and a sizable soda stain. Dean and Sam eyed the remains warily, while Castiel studied his hand.
Dean looked up. "I take it that wasn't you?" he asked Castiel. At the same time Sam asked, "Are you okay, Cas?"
Castiel lowered his hand, showing pink, shiny skin, like a newly-healed burn scar. "I'm fine." He crouched, peering down at the soaked bag, apparently immune to the foul smell. "That was an ... unusual reaction."
Dean and Sam crouched beside him, grimacing and waving hands in front of their faces; Sam reached down to finger the contents, but Dean grabbed his wrist. "Dude, don't touch it, that thing was meant for you," he hissed.
Sam scowled, but he turned to Castiel. "An unusual reaction to what? You?"
"Yes," Castiel answered, and now he reached down to spread the soaked contents of the bag. "The burlap was first soaked in blood. This is the incisor of a toddler. Shortgrass tied together with horsehair." He frowned.
"What was it supposed to do?" Sam asked.
"I'm not certain," Castiel admitted, and Dean groaned.
"Who cares? Whatever it was, it's sick shit." He slapped his hands on his knees. "At least we know who it is now; let's go kill the sonuvabitch." He whirled to the duffel bags. "Cas, you in?"
Castiel hesitated, but nodded as he stood. Sam sighed loudly. "How about we not go charging in guns blazing, for once? Have, oh, you know, a plan of attack?"
"Here's the plan: we go in, we kill the sucker, we get out! He tried to kill you, Sam," Dean snarled. At Sam's pursed lips, he tossed a sheathed knife in his direction; Sam caught it. "We'll talk about it on the way, all right?"
Nobody noticed when the fine lines at the edges of Castiel's eyes faded away.
tbc
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