Four Men in a Car (To Say Nothing of the Devil)
Title: Four Men in a Car (To Say Nothing of the Devil)
Characters: Sam, Dean, Bobby, Castiel, Lucifer
Note: Spoilers from 7x17 onwards! Big thanks to the amazing zatnikatel for betaing :) Title inspired by Three Men in a Boat (To Say Nothing of the Dog), it was originally intended to be a comedy, but it took a more angsty turn...
This piece is continued in When Angels Deserve to Die
Summary: Team Free Will are reunited.
It had been a long few weeks. Long and strange, Dean thought as he looked into the rear view mirror. Sitting in the back of the car was Castiel, staring fixedly at the back of Sam’s seat, and Bobby, quietly reading through a few papers. Not so long ago they had lost everything. Now they had gotten some of it back, in a manner of speaking… Bobby was a ghost, and Cas was crazy. With things turning out this way, Dean was starting to fear for the Impala when he finally recovered her. At least one thing was perfect, and that was Sam sleeping soundly in the shotgun seat. It was very rare for Dean to have the radio on quietly and playing something other than rock music. But for Sam’s sleep, an exception would be made. A soothing orchestral piece floated around the car: enough to break the silence, but something you could doze to. Dean felt his own eyes beginning to droop; he would much prefer to blast some classic rock, but every sacrifice was made for Sam, even Metallica.
They were on the road, hopefully heading to Frank’s. Apparently he faked his death and managed to get in touch. Dean was suspicious, but Bobby said it sounded just like something the paranoid SOB would have done. Frank said he needed to speak to them face to face, he had found something important. Again, Dean was skeptical, but they had little else to go on and so here they were, driving through the night. Meg had also been in touch. Castiel came round from his catatonic state and things were starting to happen… shattered light bulbs, smashed glass, and objects being flung around his room. Demons had gotten wind of it and were showing an interest. It wasn’t safe for Cas to stay there any more. So they had picked him up and would have to figure something else out.
Dean shivered slightly; the temperature seemed to have dropped. He glanced up at the rear view mirror again with a slight grin. “Hey Bobby, glad to have you back and all, but think you can stop doing the freezing thing? Getting a bit chilly here.”
Bobby looked up with a scowl, and oh, how damn happy Dean was to see that scowl. “Ya think the reaper gave me a manual? It’s one thing salting and burning these spooks but you try being one. It’ll take me a while to work things out.”
Dean smiled, remembering his brief flirtations with the spirit world, but he thought better of answering back and reached over to turn the heater up instead - sparing another glance up at Castiels reflection as he did so. They had dressed him in one of Dean’s t-shirts and a pair of jeans. The clothes hung off Castiel’s now slight frame, but the blood stained trench coat would need a good wash before being seen in public. The angel’s flat stare hadn’t changed; he was pressed up against the door as if cowering away from something. Dean was worried - he couldn’t pretend that he wasn’t - but his worry was tinged with bitterness. Cas had betrayed them, he had killed countless in Heaven and on Earth, and he had hurt Sam. That in itself would usually get you permanently blacklisted in Dean’s eyes, but this was Cas… He might not be able to hate the angel forever, but forgiveness wouldn’t be that easy to come by.
Dean returned his gaze to the road, but only a few moments passed before he was looking to the mirror again. A sound had come from the formerly mute angel. Cas whimpered and winced, and just as he did so, the heater and radio cut out.
“Bobby, that you?” Dean asked dubiously.
“Nope, not me, I’m pinning this one on the angel.” Bobby answered, not looking up from his paper.
Dean fiddled with the controls to no avail, then wiped at his face with a hand, feeling something brush his cheek. Resuming his silent worrying, he returned both hands to the wheel and his attention to the road.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As far as Castiel was concerned, there were five people in the car. Or four people and one monster. Lucifer sat between him and Bobby. The devil leaned towards Castiel and he tried to press himself further into the door. The angel didn’t move his eyes an inch from the back of the seat in front of him. If he looked up, he would drown in Lucifer’s gaze, as long as he was out of sight Castiel could pretend he was out of mind.
That wouldn’t stop Lucifer of course. The snake’s tongue kept on wagging, his hissing whisper of a voice gnawing away at Castiel.
“I’m not going anywhere brother. I’ll be here until the years roll by and you crack. I might not even have to wait that long… eventually you’ll open the cage and free me, just to get me out of your noggin.”
Castiel remained silent and unmoving.
The devil continued. “You’re going to be such a burden to the Winchesters. If you had any decency left, you’d fall on your sword and end it. Oh but you haven’t got your sword any more have you? So careless Castiel. But… you could always open the car door and jump out. Dash your vessel’s head open on the road and refuse to heal while his brain leaks out over the asphalt. It might not work, but worth a try, no?”
Castiel’s eyes flicked to the passing road, as if giving the thought serious consideration. He flinched hard as he felt the devil’s hand running slowly up his arm.
“What have you got to live for Castiel? Why are you holding on?”
This time Castiel couldn’t help his eyes wandering to Dean.
“Ah,” Lucifer murmured gleefully. “I see. Hope. Hope that he will forgive you… There is no hope Castiel. There is only me.” The hand reached Castiel’s shoulder and slipped round to his back. “I love you Castiel… you’re my brother, we were both shunned by Heaven, we both have immeasurable blood on our hands, and we could do so much standing side by side. I love you, but does he?” Lucifer’s hand reached into the Castiel’s wing and grasped a feather. “He loves you…” Lucifer pulled, and Castiel winced. “…He loves you not.”
Another feather was torn free. “He loves you…” Lucifer ripped out feather after feather, casting the glossy black pieces of Castiel in Dean’s direction.
Eventually the trembling angel’s cracked lips opened to whisper one word. “Please…”
“Please what? Please stop? Please hurry this up? You know, you’re right. I’ll be here till kingdom come doing this. Let’s cut to the chase.” Lucifer took Castiel’s wing in both hands and snapped the bone. “He loves you not.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Bobby was doing his best to ignore the shaking angel next to him. After everything, after Eleanor Visyak, after Sam, and even after his own death Bobby figured Castiel was getting his comeuppance. Sure, Cas didn’t shoot the gun that killed him, but had the stupid angel never loosed the leviathans on the world he’d still be alive and kicking. Some part of Bobby reasoned that you can pick apart these chains until you’re blaming Eve for taking that damned apple. Still, he couldn’t help but think if it wasn’t for Castiel he’d be sitting in the porch swing back in Sioux Falls, enjoying some rotgut instead of sitting in a cramped car, dead as a doornail, figuring how to stop the world from ending again. Sometimes people do so much bad you forget the good… Castiel might have rebelled against Heaven and helped save the world, but since then he’d done just as much to destroy it. Maybe in time Bobby would be able to look at Cas and see something other than a traitorous piece of…
“Bobby, what’s it like? Being a ghost I mean… how are you holding up?” Dean’s voice ventured from the front.
“Well if you mean ‘do I feel like I’m gonna go on a murder spree,’ then no. I ain’t at the vengeful spirit stage yet boy. I’d worry more about Looney Toons here getting his smite on if I were you.”
“Nope, just curious. Only seeing if you’re okay.” Dean’s anxious eyes were visible in the rear view mirror.
“Of course I’m not okay,” Bobby spat “I’m dead! But…” Bobby softens his voice as he thinks. “I might get used to it I guess. I’ll feel a damn sight better when I get my hands on Dick. That’s if they don’t go through him. I still feel like me. It’s just things like that. My hands going through stuff instead of grabbing it, and people can’t see me, and…” His thoughts started on a downward spiral, and he had to admit to himself that he was scared. What if he eventually couldn’t move on? What if he was stuck here until everybody and everything was gone and he became the twisted malevolent creature he spent half his life hunting? What if he ended up hurting people? And then he had a strange moment of sympathy for Castiel, thinking about fearing the monster you could become, or in his case became… Still, Bobby was determined to keep up his grouchy persona for the boys. Lord knows they’d been through enough without having to worry about his sorry ass.
Dean broke through his reverie, seemingly eager to lighten the mood. “On the plus side, if people can’t see you imagine the fun you can have in the women’s locker rooms”
“Please…” A whisper came from beside Bobby, and he looked up briefly before he went back to contemplating creeping around locker rooms unseen.
The lighter mood didn’t last long, however, as the angel’s suffering ramped up a notch and he screamed out, lurching up from his position against the car door.
“Cas! What’s wrong?!” Dean didn’t get an answer from the angel. Castiel thrashed and yelled, sounding for all the world like he was in extreme pain. But nothing had happened, nothing they could see anyway… “Take it easy! Calm down! Bobby, do something!”
“What am I supposed to do?! Think I’m some kind of angel whisperer?”
Sam had woken by this point. He quickly picked up on what was going on and turned around as best he could to look at Castiel. “Cas, believe me, whatever you’re seeing it’s not real!”
“Get away! Got to get… got to get away!” The angel struggled and reached for the car door.
Bobby spotted what he was about to do and reached for the angel. His hand went straight through Castiel’s arm. “Balls! Stop the damn car!”
The door opened just as Dean slammed on the brakes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sam was out of the car and on his knees in front of Castiel in a flash. The angel sat slumped against the car seat, his feet hanging out of the door touching the road. He looked to have scraped one foot before Dean could stop the car. A bloody gash marred his flesh, and a trail of blood spattered the road.
“Cas, look at me, please…” Sam insisted. “He’s not there.”
Castiel didn’t meet Sam’s gaze; his eyes were vacant and his face set in shock. His hands were tightly fisted in his lap. Sam reached out, encircling them with his own, but Castiel didn’t respond. Sam tried again. “Cas, Lucifer is in the cage. You’re safe here with us. He can’t hurt you.”
“Hurt me… my wings.” Castiel replied at last with a hoarse voice, though his eyes remained empty, staring at the road.
“Your wings are fine. He’s not real, you took hallucinations from me remember?” Despite everything Castiel had done, Sam couldn’t help but feel guilty seeing him like this. The hallucinations, this madness… it was Sam’s cross to bear. The wall was going to come down sooner or later with or without Cas, and now, feeling Cas’s cold, clenched hands under his own, Sam wished he could take it all back. “Dean, come talk to him. Dean? What are you doing?”
Sam looked up to find Dean ferreting around in the trunk. He sighed, his brother would probably stand a better chance at getting through to Castiel, they had that profound bond, after all. Yet Dean seemed as if he was avoiding the angel. Eventually the trunk slammed shut and Dean came round toward them. Sam stood and backed away, letting Dean take his place kneeling in front of the angel.
“Cas? You in there?”
Seemingly that’s all it took, life came back to Castiel’s vacant stare, and his eyes met Dean’s. Dean reached for the angel’s clenched fists just as Sam had. Under his touch they relaxed and Castiel gingerly held Dean’s hands with his own. “I have to get away from him,” Castiel explained, in an imploring childlike fashion, moving his legs as if to stand.
Dean held on to his hands tightly, not letting him up. “Whoah there, you’re not going anywhere on that foot. We’ll have a look at it when you’re settled, but for now you’re going to get back in the car and sit nice and quiet, right?” Dean kept up the unwavering eye contact and tight grip with one hand; he pulled the other away and reached slowly for the item he retrieved from the trunk. Picking up the end to a length of rope Dean brought it back to Castiel’s hands, all the while moving as if the angel was a cornered animal. He began to tie the rope around Castiel’s wrists, watching for any hint of reaction, but there was none.
“Dean… is that necessary?” Sam had thought he was witnessing a tender moment between them. Now he wondered if it was simply a tactic to secure the prisoner. Sometimes he could see through his brother like Dean was made of glass, but where Cas was concerned he really couldn’t pin Dean down. One moment he seemed genuinely pleased to have the angel back, the next he was tense, irritable, and avoiding Castiel like the plague. Still, Sam had his own conflicted feelings on the matter. This was what happened when a former friend betrayed you. Part of you remembered the friendship; part of you couldn’t let go of the betrayal.
“I don’t want him doing anything else stupid.” Dean finished binding Castiel and pushed him back into the car. The angel had mumbled “No,” and “Please” but Dean was all business now, and gave his pleas no heed. “Get back in the car Sam. We still got a lot of miles to cover.”
Sam gave one last concerned look at the broken angel before taking his place in the passenger seat.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He could feel Bobby’s eyes boring into the back of his head, but the ghost wouldn’t be able to see him. Those eyes would only see through him. As Dean bound Castiel, the angel looked over his shoulder back into the car.
Lucifer patted the seat, enticing him back in. “No… please…” was all the angel managed, as Dean eased his legs back into the car.
“Nice try, brother,” the devil grinned. “Don’t worry; there’ll be a next time”.
When Angels Deserve to Die
Characters: Sam, Dean, Bobby, Castiel, Lucifer
Note: Spoilers from 7x17 onwards! Big thanks to the amazing zatnikatel for betaing :) Title inspired by Three Men in a Boat (To Say Nothing of the Dog), it was originally intended to be a comedy, but it took a more angsty turn...
This piece is continued in When Angels Deserve to Die
Summary: Team Free Will are reunited.
It had been a long few weeks. Long and strange, Dean thought as he looked into the rear view mirror. Sitting in the back of the car was Castiel, staring fixedly at the back of Sam’s seat, and Bobby, quietly reading through a few papers. Not so long ago they had lost everything. Now they had gotten some of it back, in a manner of speaking… Bobby was a ghost, and Cas was crazy. With things turning out this way, Dean was starting to fear for the Impala when he finally recovered her. At least one thing was perfect, and that was Sam sleeping soundly in the shotgun seat. It was very rare for Dean to have the radio on quietly and playing something other than rock music. But for Sam’s sleep, an exception would be made. A soothing orchestral piece floated around the car: enough to break the silence, but something you could doze to. Dean felt his own eyes beginning to droop; he would much prefer to blast some classic rock, but every sacrifice was made for Sam, even Metallica.
They were on the road, hopefully heading to Frank’s. Apparently he faked his death and managed to get in touch. Dean was suspicious, but Bobby said it sounded just like something the paranoid SOB would have done. Frank said he needed to speak to them face to face, he had found something important. Again, Dean was skeptical, but they had little else to go on and so here they were, driving through the night. Meg had also been in touch. Castiel came round from his catatonic state and things were starting to happen… shattered light bulbs, smashed glass, and objects being flung around his room. Demons had gotten wind of it and were showing an interest. It wasn’t safe for Cas to stay there any more. So they had picked him up and would have to figure something else out.
Dean shivered slightly; the temperature seemed to have dropped. He glanced up at the rear view mirror again with a slight grin. “Hey Bobby, glad to have you back and all, but think you can stop doing the freezing thing? Getting a bit chilly here.”
Bobby looked up with a scowl, and oh, how damn happy Dean was to see that scowl. “Ya think the reaper gave me a manual? It’s one thing salting and burning these spooks but you try being one. It’ll take me a while to work things out.”
Dean smiled, remembering his brief flirtations with the spirit world, but he thought better of answering back and reached over to turn the heater up instead - sparing another glance up at Castiels reflection as he did so. They had dressed him in one of Dean’s t-shirts and a pair of jeans. The clothes hung off Castiel’s now slight frame, but the blood stained trench coat would need a good wash before being seen in public. The angel’s flat stare hadn’t changed; he was pressed up against the door as if cowering away from something. Dean was worried - he couldn’t pretend that he wasn’t - but his worry was tinged with bitterness. Cas had betrayed them, he had killed countless in Heaven and on Earth, and he had hurt Sam. That in itself would usually get you permanently blacklisted in Dean’s eyes, but this was Cas… He might not be able to hate the angel forever, but forgiveness wouldn’t be that easy to come by.
Dean returned his gaze to the road, but only a few moments passed before he was looking to the mirror again. A sound had come from the formerly mute angel. Cas whimpered and winced, and just as he did so, the heater and radio cut out.
“Bobby, that you?” Dean asked dubiously.
“Nope, not me, I’m pinning this one on the angel.” Bobby answered, not looking up from his paper.
Dean fiddled with the controls to no avail, then wiped at his face with a hand, feeling something brush his cheek. Resuming his silent worrying, he returned both hands to the wheel and his attention to the road.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As far as Castiel was concerned, there were five people in the car. Or four people and one monster. Lucifer sat between him and Bobby. The devil leaned towards Castiel and he tried to press himself further into the door. The angel didn’t move his eyes an inch from the back of the seat in front of him. If he looked up, he would drown in Lucifer’s gaze, as long as he was out of sight Castiel could pretend he was out of mind.
That wouldn’t stop Lucifer of course. The snake’s tongue kept on wagging, his hissing whisper of a voice gnawing away at Castiel.
“I’m not going anywhere brother. I’ll be here until the years roll by and you crack. I might not even have to wait that long… eventually you’ll open the cage and free me, just to get me out of your noggin.”
Castiel remained silent and unmoving.
The devil continued. “You’re going to be such a burden to the Winchesters. If you had any decency left, you’d fall on your sword and end it. Oh but you haven’t got your sword any more have you? So careless Castiel. But… you could always open the car door and jump out. Dash your vessel’s head open on the road and refuse to heal while his brain leaks out over the asphalt. It might not work, but worth a try, no?”
Castiel’s eyes flicked to the passing road, as if giving the thought serious consideration. He flinched hard as he felt the devil’s hand running slowly up his arm.
“What have you got to live for Castiel? Why are you holding on?”
This time Castiel couldn’t help his eyes wandering to Dean.
“Ah,” Lucifer murmured gleefully. “I see. Hope. Hope that he will forgive you… There is no hope Castiel. There is only me.” The hand reached Castiel’s shoulder and slipped round to his back. “I love you Castiel… you’re my brother, we were both shunned by Heaven, we both have immeasurable blood on our hands, and we could do so much standing side by side. I love you, but does he?” Lucifer’s hand reached into the Castiel’s wing and grasped a feather. “He loves you…” Lucifer pulled, and Castiel winced. “…He loves you not.”
Another feather was torn free. “He loves you…” Lucifer ripped out feather after feather, casting the glossy black pieces of Castiel in Dean’s direction.
Eventually the trembling angel’s cracked lips opened to whisper one word. “Please…”
“Please what? Please stop? Please hurry this up? You know, you’re right. I’ll be here till kingdom come doing this. Let’s cut to the chase.” Lucifer took Castiel’s wing in both hands and snapped the bone. “He loves you not.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Bobby was doing his best to ignore the shaking angel next to him. After everything, after Eleanor Visyak, after Sam, and even after his own death Bobby figured Castiel was getting his comeuppance. Sure, Cas didn’t shoot the gun that killed him, but had the stupid angel never loosed the leviathans on the world he’d still be alive and kicking. Some part of Bobby reasoned that you can pick apart these chains until you’re blaming Eve for taking that damned apple. Still, he couldn’t help but think if it wasn’t for Castiel he’d be sitting in the porch swing back in Sioux Falls, enjoying some rotgut instead of sitting in a cramped car, dead as a doornail, figuring how to stop the world from ending again. Sometimes people do so much bad you forget the good… Castiel might have rebelled against Heaven and helped save the world, but since then he’d done just as much to destroy it. Maybe in time Bobby would be able to look at Cas and see something other than a traitorous piece of…
“Bobby, what’s it like? Being a ghost I mean… how are you holding up?” Dean’s voice ventured from the front.
“Well if you mean ‘do I feel like I’m gonna go on a murder spree,’ then no. I ain’t at the vengeful spirit stage yet boy. I’d worry more about Looney Toons here getting his smite on if I were you.”
“Nope, just curious. Only seeing if you’re okay.” Dean’s anxious eyes were visible in the rear view mirror.
“Of course I’m not okay,” Bobby spat “I’m dead! But…” Bobby softens his voice as he thinks. “I might get used to it I guess. I’ll feel a damn sight better when I get my hands on Dick. That’s if they don’t go through him. I still feel like me. It’s just things like that. My hands going through stuff instead of grabbing it, and people can’t see me, and…” His thoughts started on a downward spiral, and he had to admit to himself that he was scared. What if he eventually couldn’t move on? What if he was stuck here until everybody and everything was gone and he became the twisted malevolent creature he spent half his life hunting? What if he ended up hurting people? And then he had a strange moment of sympathy for Castiel, thinking about fearing the monster you could become, or in his case became… Still, Bobby was determined to keep up his grouchy persona for the boys. Lord knows they’d been through enough without having to worry about his sorry ass.
Dean broke through his reverie, seemingly eager to lighten the mood. “On the plus side, if people can’t see you imagine the fun you can have in the women’s locker rooms”
“Please…” A whisper came from beside Bobby, and he looked up briefly before he went back to contemplating creeping around locker rooms unseen.
The lighter mood didn’t last long, however, as the angel’s suffering ramped up a notch and he screamed out, lurching up from his position against the car door.
“Cas! What’s wrong?!” Dean didn’t get an answer from the angel. Castiel thrashed and yelled, sounding for all the world like he was in extreme pain. But nothing had happened, nothing they could see anyway… “Take it easy! Calm down! Bobby, do something!”
“What am I supposed to do?! Think I’m some kind of angel whisperer?”
Sam had woken by this point. He quickly picked up on what was going on and turned around as best he could to look at Castiel. “Cas, believe me, whatever you’re seeing it’s not real!”
“Get away! Got to get… got to get away!” The angel struggled and reached for the car door.
Bobby spotted what he was about to do and reached for the angel. His hand went straight through Castiel’s arm. “Balls! Stop the damn car!”
The door opened just as Dean slammed on the brakes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sam was out of the car and on his knees in front of Castiel in a flash. The angel sat slumped against the car seat, his feet hanging out of the door touching the road. He looked to have scraped one foot before Dean could stop the car. A bloody gash marred his flesh, and a trail of blood spattered the road.
“Cas, look at me, please…” Sam insisted. “He’s not there.”
Castiel didn’t meet Sam’s gaze; his eyes were vacant and his face set in shock. His hands were tightly fisted in his lap. Sam reached out, encircling them with his own, but Castiel didn’t respond. Sam tried again. “Cas, Lucifer is in the cage. You’re safe here with us. He can’t hurt you.”
“Hurt me… my wings.” Castiel replied at last with a hoarse voice, though his eyes remained empty, staring at the road.
“Your wings are fine. He’s not real, you took hallucinations from me remember?” Despite everything Castiel had done, Sam couldn’t help but feel guilty seeing him like this. The hallucinations, this madness… it was Sam’s cross to bear. The wall was going to come down sooner or later with or without Cas, and now, feeling Cas’s cold, clenched hands under his own, Sam wished he could take it all back. “Dean, come talk to him. Dean? What are you doing?”
Sam looked up to find Dean ferreting around in the trunk. He sighed, his brother would probably stand a better chance at getting through to Castiel, they had that profound bond, after all. Yet Dean seemed as if he was avoiding the angel. Eventually the trunk slammed shut and Dean came round toward them. Sam stood and backed away, letting Dean take his place kneeling in front of the angel.
“Cas? You in there?”
Seemingly that’s all it took, life came back to Castiel’s vacant stare, and his eyes met Dean’s. Dean reached for the angel’s clenched fists just as Sam had. Under his touch they relaxed and Castiel gingerly held Dean’s hands with his own. “I have to get away from him,” Castiel explained, in an imploring childlike fashion, moving his legs as if to stand.
Dean held on to his hands tightly, not letting him up. “Whoah there, you’re not going anywhere on that foot. We’ll have a look at it when you’re settled, but for now you’re going to get back in the car and sit nice and quiet, right?” Dean kept up the unwavering eye contact and tight grip with one hand; he pulled the other away and reached slowly for the item he retrieved from the trunk. Picking up the end to a length of rope Dean brought it back to Castiel’s hands, all the while moving as if the angel was a cornered animal. He began to tie the rope around Castiel’s wrists, watching for any hint of reaction, but there was none.
“Dean… is that necessary?” Sam had thought he was witnessing a tender moment between them. Now he wondered if it was simply a tactic to secure the prisoner. Sometimes he could see through his brother like Dean was made of glass, but where Cas was concerned he really couldn’t pin Dean down. One moment he seemed genuinely pleased to have the angel back, the next he was tense, irritable, and avoiding Castiel like the plague. Still, Sam had his own conflicted feelings on the matter. This was what happened when a former friend betrayed you. Part of you remembered the friendship; part of you couldn’t let go of the betrayal.
“I don’t want him doing anything else stupid.” Dean finished binding Castiel and pushed him back into the car. The angel had mumbled “No,” and “Please” but Dean was all business now, and gave his pleas no heed. “Get back in the car Sam. We still got a lot of miles to cover.”
Sam gave one last concerned look at the broken angel before taking his place in the passenger seat.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He could feel Bobby’s eyes boring into the back of his head, but the ghost wouldn’t be able to see him. Those eyes would only see through him. As Dean bound Castiel, the angel looked over his shoulder back into the car.
Lucifer patted the seat, enticing him back in. “No… please…” was all the angel managed, as Dean eased his legs back into the car.
“Nice try, brother,” the devil grinned. “Don’t worry; there’ll be a next time”.
When Angels Deserve to Die