Miracle Anti-Aging Cream (2/?)vikkiMarch 26 2010, 19:50:42 UTC
The witch went down with less than the usual amount of fuss, primarily because upon arrival in Mr. Nightengale's haven, Castiel promptly pinned him to the wall with a table. This didn't leave the witch much time for doing anything more than cursing while Sam wrecked his altar and Dean stabbed him through the throat.
Castiel didn't stick around for cleanup. "Com'n, Cas - God can wait for a few hours, can't He? Celebratory drinks, at least?" Dean proposed.
Castiel simply looked at him, then disappeared. "Sometimes it's damn hard to remember he's loose compared to how he used to be," Dean groused to Sam.
"Maybe you should stop insulting his mission every time you see him," Sam proposed.
"What? I want my amulet back," Dean grumbled, wiping the blood off his knife with a rag.
*
They didn't see or hear from Castiel for a week. Hardly an unusual state of affairs, the brothers cleared up a classic haunting on their way to Southland College to look up lore about the Apocalypse - specifically Michael's spear. The most promising book had a problem, however.
"It's in goddamn Greek. Literally," Dean groaned. Sam leaned over his shoulder and flipped through the pages, frowning. "Mean anything to you, College Boy?"
"I didn't study Greek," Sam shot back, testy. "Maybe Bobby can read it."
"We're in Mississippi. How is he going to translate it for us?"
"We could, well ..." Sam made motions of putting the thick tome in their duffel.
"No, I got a better idea," Dean proposed. He flipped open his cellphone, looking furtively around to make sure no librarians were around to chide him, and dialed.
"The number you have reached is no longer in service. Please check the number, or hang up and try again."
Dean jerked his phone from his ear. "What the ...?"
"You calling Cas?"
"Yeah. It says his phone is out of service." Dean hit redial, but he got the same message. "What the hell? Did he change his number?"
"Is he that tech-savvy?" Sam asked. They both stared at each other.
"Zachariah," Dean growled. "That motherf--"
Dean's phone rang.
Dean looked down in surprise; the number was one he didn't recognize. A librarian, summoned by the sound of a ringing phone, appeared immediately. "Put that on vibrate, please," she hissed.
"Sorry," Sam apologized; "It's an emergency."
Dean turned away, flipping his phone open. "Who is this?" he demanded, half-expecting to hear Zachariah's smarmy laugh.
"Dean, where are you?" a child's voice asked.
Dean blinked. "What?"
"Where are you?" The child answered patiently again, his voice cracking.
Some teenage kid, it sounded like. "Dude, kid, I am not in the mood for prank calls," Dean hissed. A thought occurred to him. "And if this is that sick sonuvabitch Zach, I am not about to tell you where the hell I am. Go to hell!"
There was a short pause; Dean checked to see if his phone was still connected.
"Dean, it's Castiel," the child said. "I believe the witch's spell has had an effect after all."
Castiel didn't stick around for cleanup. "Com'n, Cas - God can wait for a few hours, can't He? Celebratory drinks, at least?" Dean proposed.
Castiel simply looked at him, then disappeared. "Sometimes it's damn hard to remember he's loose compared to how he used to be," Dean groused to Sam.
"Maybe you should stop insulting his mission every time you see him," Sam proposed.
"What? I want my amulet back," Dean grumbled, wiping the blood off his knife with a rag.
*
They didn't see or hear from Castiel for a week. Hardly an unusual state of affairs, the brothers cleared up a classic haunting on their way to Southland College to look up lore about the Apocalypse - specifically Michael's spear. The most promising book had a problem, however.
"It's in goddamn Greek. Literally," Dean groaned. Sam leaned over his shoulder and flipped through the pages, frowning. "Mean anything to you, College Boy?"
"I didn't study Greek," Sam shot back, testy. "Maybe Bobby can read it."
"We're in Mississippi. How is he going to translate it for us?"
"We could, well ..." Sam made motions of putting the thick tome in their duffel.
"No, I got a better idea," Dean proposed. He flipped open his cellphone, looking furtively around to make sure no librarians were around to chide him, and dialed.
"The number you have reached is no longer in service. Please check the number, or hang up and try again."
Dean jerked his phone from his ear. "What the ...?"
"You calling Cas?"
"Yeah. It says his phone is out of service." Dean hit redial, but he got the same message. "What the hell? Did he change his number?"
"Is he that tech-savvy?" Sam asked. They both stared at each other.
"Zachariah," Dean growled. "That motherf--"
Dean's phone rang.
Dean looked down in surprise; the number was one he didn't recognize. A librarian, summoned by the sound of a ringing phone, appeared immediately. "Put that on vibrate, please," she hissed.
"Sorry," Sam apologized; "It's an emergency."
Dean turned away, flipping his phone open. "Who is this?" he demanded, half-expecting to hear Zachariah's smarmy laugh.
"Dean, where are you?" a child's voice asked.
Dean blinked. "What?"
"Where are you?" The child answered patiently again, his voice cracking.
Some teenage kid, it sounded like. "Dude, kid, I am not in the mood for prank calls," Dean hissed. A thought occurred to him. "And if this is that sick sonuvabitch Zach, I am not about to tell you where the hell I am. Go to hell!"
There was a short pause; Dean checked to see if his phone was still connected.
"Dean, it's Castiel," the child said. "I believe the witch's spell has had an effect after all."
tbc
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