The next few days go as smoothly as Castiel could have hoped.
They make it to Bobby's without incident and as Dean said, the house was empty. Booby-trapped to, so that Cas had to step carefully and Dean had to unhook trip wires. They gathered some lore -Castiel remembered words tied to Purgatory, tied to old evils that scared even the angels in languages long dead and gathered those books up- and Dean filled their bags with weapons, with some food, with more fake credit cards and Dean's clothes for both of them.
They were back in the car by evening, and in a hotel again. Cas slept on the floor next to Dean's bed for the second night in a row.
Cas got used to Dean again, and used to himself. He was more sarcastic, more remorseful, quicker to smile and quicker to snap. He was more everything but still Cas, going unnaturally quiet as they drove beneath giant shelves of rock with water trickling down the sides, remembering the stars almost every night. They hunted two Leviathan and beheaded them both.
It was the third that gave them trouble. More specifically, it was a smart one, and taunted both of them before wounding Dean and throwing him to the floor.
Castiel saw red.
There was a crowbar and Castiel had it literally buried inside the thing's skull. Its eyes went comically wide and it staggered, toppled a bit, but Cas didn't relent. He wrenched the weapon free with a sick crunch and buried it again, caving in the thing's skull with the sort of strength that should be impossible for his weak, mortal arms. When the Leviathan went down to its knees Cas hit it again, and again and again until its head was pulp and its face was black mush, and then Cas took the machete from the floor and beheaded it with a snarl like a feral animal.
Cas stood and stared down at it. He was alternating between flecked and drenched in black, panting, shaking, and as if suddenly remembering he dropped the weapon to rush back to Dean's side.
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They make it to Bobby's without incident and as Dean said, the house was empty. Booby-trapped to, so that Cas had to step carefully and Dean had to unhook trip wires. They gathered some lore -Castiel remembered words tied to Purgatory, tied to old evils that scared even the angels in languages long dead and gathered those books up- and Dean filled their bags with weapons, with some food, with more fake credit cards and Dean's clothes for both of them.
They were back in the car by evening, and in a hotel again. Cas slept on the floor next to Dean's bed for the second night in a row.
Cas got used to Dean again, and used to himself. He was more sarcastic, more remorseful, quicker to smile and quicker to snap. He was more everything but still Cas, going unnaturally quiet as they drove beneath giant shelves of rock with water trickling down the sides, remembering the stars almost every night. They hunted two Leviathan and beheaded them both.
It was the third that gave them trouble. More specifically, it was a smart one, and taunted both of them before wounding Dean and throwing him to the floor.
Castiel saw red.
There was a crowbar and Castiel had it literally buried inside the thing's skull. Its eyes went comically wide and it staggered, toppled a bit, but Cas didn't relent. He wrenched the weapon free with a sick crunch and buried it again, caving in the thing's skull with the sort of strength that should be impossible for his weak, mortal arms. When the Leviathan went down to its knees Cas hit it again, and again and again until its head was pulp and its face was black mush, and then Cas took the machete from the floor and beheaded it with a snarl like a feral animal.
Cas stood and stared down at it. He was alternating between flecked and drenched in black, panting, shaking, and as if suddenly remembering he dropped the weapon to rush back to Dean's side.