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Sam could remember Castiel popping up in their motel just outside of Tallahassee. He could remember Dean and him bickering about their current hunt, and yet Castiel had persisted that they couldn’t stay here. They were in danger. Something about an angel gone rouge; what else was new? What Sam couldn’t quite remember…was how he’d ended up on the ground, with a mouth full of sand and the salt water up his nose.
“Sam? Sam! Snap out of it buddy! Come on!” Dean was barking at him, his grip clamped over Sam’s arms.
Sam coughed up the dirt and sand in his mouth, breathing harshly to get the last of the water from his lungs. Dean sighed in relief, and his grip went slack for a few seconds. “What the fu—”
“I don’t know. And I can’t find Cas.” Dean growled, hauling Sam up to his feet. “But when I do, I’m gonna pull his fucking feathers out for zapping us—wherever the fuck we are! CAS!”
Sam coughed again as his weight shifted into the ground. He was standing at the edge of the shore, and his boots were sinking as the waves lapped up on the sand. He pulled his boots out quickly before they could sink further, only to find himself soaked from the waist down. Great. Dean was already hiking up the beach, shouting for Cas left and right. Sam squinted up at the sun—not a damn cloud in sight—and held a hand up to his brow as he scanned the beach. Damn, nothing but sand and water for miles it seemed. Where had Cas zapped them? They’d been in the city just outside of Tallahassee Florida…maybe he’d taken them to the coast?
“SAM!”
Every nerve in Sam’s body snapped at the shout. Dean was panicked. Sam ran up the beach, following his brother’s footsteps and then his shouts again for help. Sam was pushing past bushes and winding his way around trees, the beach behind him now.
“Over here!” Dean’s voice cracked as Sam stopped running and turned. Dean was kneeling on the ground and for a second Sam’s brain couldn’t process what he was seeing. There was Dean, and then there was Cas. But at the same time, Sam couldn’t see Cas because Dean was kneeling over him. “I need your shirt. We gotta stop the bleeding. Mines soaked through.” Dean barked. Sam blinked and again, more details filtered through. Dean was only down to his gray t-shirt. His flannel was wadded tightly against Castiel’s side. The Angel wasn’t even conscious.
“Shit.” Sam breathed when the reality started to sink into his brain.
“I KNOW DAMMIT. GIVE ME YOUR DAMN SHIRT!” Dean barked again, and Sam tore it off. He kneeled on Castiel’s other side, pressing his shirt against his chest. It was probably a little too rough because Castiel stirred. “Cas! Cas buddy wake up!” Dean snapped, grabbing at any scrap of Castiel being conscious.
“Dean…that’s grace…” Sam swallowed tightly. His hands were growing red from blood, but he could hear the ringing. He could feel the resonance of the angel.
“Don’t you fucking dare you bastard.” Dean growled. “You heal Jimmy and you get yourself back in one piece. You hear me Cas?” Dean was practically shouting. But the ringing was dying down. Sam took a deep breath and pressed again.
“What the fuck did this?” Sam muttered.
“I don’t know.” Dean answered tightly. His gaze wasn’t moving from Castiel’s face.
“Any other wounds?” Sam wondered. This was bad.
“I don’t know Sam!” Dean swore. “He had a few cuts but…but they’re healed! He’s healing!” The look of relief that spread over Dean’s face was enough to ease the tension from Sam’s shoulders. “This one’s gonna take time though. Whatever got him ripped through his whole fucking chest.”
“Yea, I got that.” Sam’s voice shook a bit, but he didn’t move an inch. If keeping the pressure on this massive wound was enough to help Cas heal, he’d stay here all night. Castiel stirred again a minute or so later, and Sam could hear the ringing again.
“A…arr…” Castiel grumbled incoherently.
“What?” Dean muttered. “Fuck, save your strength Cas, just—fucking heal yourself we can talk later!”
“ow…” Cas murmured.
“Ow? Yea it should fucking hurt. You damn nearly lost your guts!”
“Ar…ro…”
“Wait—” Sam shushed Dean, frowning as Castiel groaned again.
“ow..a…r…ow..”
“A row?” Dean murmured.
“Arrow.” Sam swore. “That’s the ringing! Maybe it’s keeping him from healing instantly.”
“What kind of arrow keeps an angel from healing?!” Dean swore as he sat back, hands red with blood, shirt soaked to blackness. He moved bits of the shirt slowly, trying to get a better look at the wound but he couldn’t tell if anything was still lodged into Castiel’s skin. Fuck, he didn’t even know what an angel arrow looked like!
“The ringing…” Sam muttered, listening for it again. Sam swallowed hard as he moved his shirt steadily, following the sound. “Got it.” Sam muttered, a bit of Castiel’s grace leading Sam straight to the source.
“Careful…” Dean murmured.
“I fucking know Dean. Shut up.” Sam swore, pursing his lips together as he picked at the wound. Castiel’s face twisted in pain and Dean had to press his hands down against Cas harder to keep him still. “Yea. Got it…” Sam sighed as he yanked back a whole shaft. It looked just like a regular arrow, except it was the same silver as angel blades. And obviously twice as deadly.
Castiel gasped sharply and sat up fully despite the boys trying to keep him down. There was a brief flash of light, and then Castiel was back on the ground.
“The shit was that?!” Dean barked as Castiel blinked open his eyes. Dean grabbed at his shirt, yanking Cas up same as he had done to Sam. “Cas?! Cas you with us man?”
“Yes…” Castiel rasped, his voice scratchier than usually to Sam’s ears. “Thank you Sam, for finding the arrow. It would have been impossible for me to heal with it still lodged into my vessel.”
“Anytime…” Sam muttered. He was still holding the arrow, and he dropped it a second later. “Where the hell did that come from?” He asked.
“Well, not hell.” Castiel muttered. “I did forewarn you that there were rouge angels out for your blood. We had to leave immediately. But I’m afraid I underestimated how close they were. They caught us mid flight.” Castiel explained in his usual bluntness. Dean’s grip eventually slacked and his bloodied hands fell into his lap. Sam sat back with a heaved sigh, leaning into a palm tree. Castiel checked himself over, frowning slightly at the massive amount of blood soaked into his shirt, coat and pants.
“What!?” Dean muttered, tossing a hand up helplessly.
“I was aiming to transport you both back to Bobby’s house,” Castiel explained as his gaze turned over the beach-forest around them. “I…was knocked off course by the arrow. Apparently….severely. We appear to be on some island.”
“We appear to be?” Sam scoffed. “Gee, what gave you that impression?”
“Well judging by the shrubbery and the high consistency of sand within the soil—”
“Sarcasm Cas!” Dean shut him off. “We know we’re on an island. But what island? Can you zap us off or what?”
“Or what.” Cas murmured softly. “Preventing my vessel from being destroyed, along with the crash, and healing it has surprisingly drained me. I’ll need some time before I can transport us off this island.”
“Oh that’s perfect.” Dean muttered.
“Shut up,” Sam smacked his brother’s arm. “The guy nearly died just now trying to keep us from getting killed by a rogue angel—”
“What?” Dean muttered again, but Sam ignored him.
“Wait—they can’t track us here can they?” Sam sat up sharply.
“They would have presumed we were all killed once I was struck. Humans do not typically survive a crash back to earth…” Castiel explained, and then trailed off when Dean glared up at him.
“Then how did we?” Sam asked gently. Castiel wouldn’t catch his eye, nor Deans.
“I did mention that the crash severely drained me.” Castiel sighed gently. He started to shrug off his trench coat, and then his suit jacket and shirt. They were ruined so it made sense, but at the same time, Castiel was now completely shirtless.
“All right.” Dean muttered, standing quickly. “We’re stuck on an island but there could be people here. I say we walk along the coast and see if we can find other people, maybe find out where we are and if we can get off it somehow without angel mojo…” Dean suggested. Sam nodded gently and stood, helping Castiel to stand as well.
“We should leave the bloody stuff here…” Sam muttered because Dean was still clutching his soiled shirt.
“Yea, right.” Dean agreed, chucking his shirt onto the pile of Castiel’s clothes. “Should wash off too…” Dean growled, glancing down at himself, then heading down to the beach with a huff.
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It was nearly sunset, and they hadn’t found a town, or a village, or any other person. Sam was almost certain they were alone on this island. He wasn’t even sure how large the island was to start, but they had been walking for hours. Nothing but sand rested in front of them, with the ocean to their left, and a forest on their right up the shore.
“I believe we are on a deserted Island.” Castiel piped up in the silence. “Perhaps it would be wise to camp for the night.”
“A fire wouldn’t be so bad…” Sam agreed. “It’ll get cool here on the coast. We could go into the forest a bit.”
“Great….” Dean muttered, passing a hand over his face. “This is just great.”
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Dean and Cas managed to gather enough dry wood to make a decent fire. Castiel had found them a nice clearing of grass beneath a few good trees, so if they were rained on in the middle of the night they wouldn’t wake up completely soaked. While Dean managed to get a fire roaring, Castiel stood at the edge of the forest near the beach. Sam was dutifully handing his brother bits of kindling and wood, but his gaze kept flickering over to Castiel.
“Think he’s okay?” Sam asked softly.
Dean glanced up from his task and followed his brother’s gaze. “If you’re so worried go ask him.” Dean muttered. “Ha!” Dean cheered as his fire caught to the large logs and heat radiated in waves from the growing flame.
Sam clapped his hands clean of sand as he stood and wandered over to the angel. “Cas? Everything okay?” Sam murmured.
“I’m attempting to orientate myself using the stars and constellations over head. I believe it’s a common method among sailors.” Castiel explained, as his gaze swept over the sky again.
“Yea but usually you need some kind of instrument to measure the horizon right?” Sam asked. He knew of the concept of sailors using stars for navigation but it was never anything he’d studied in depth. He never figured they’d end up anywhere near the coast, let alone an island. Dean never went anywhere the Impala couldn’t take him…
“Yes but I do not require that instrument. If my calculations are correct, we’re just off the Eastern coast of Florida. Possibly on one of the smaller outlining islands of the Bahamas…” Castiel murmured. Sam startled at that news.
“Cas we were leaving from Tallahassee Florida. How did we end up in the Atlantic?” Sam asked.
Castiel heaved a breath and finally turned to face Sam. “I fly through dimensions rapidly. That’s how I managed to move—as you say—within the blink of an eye. When I was struck you two were knocked out of my hold. You nearly ended up somewhere in the Everglades, and Dean would have landed here because you fell through those dimensions without me. I only had enough strength after catching him to land you both safely on this island.”
Sam nodded slowly to show Cas he understood. “Yea, thanks for that.” He murmured gently. “And because of all that—with the arrow and everything—your grace is what? Diminished?”
“Not my grace, just the energy it takes to tap into it.” Castiel explained with a half shrug. “I should be well enough in the morning.”
“Here’s hoping.” Sam murmured as they returned to the fireside. Dean was rubbing his hands against the flames and Sam tried to quell the uneasy feeling in his stomach. Dean had that look on his face…
“So let’s talk about this angel buddy of yours.” Dean said once Cas was seated across the fire from him.
“What is there left to discuss?” Castiel wondered.
“Well gee, maybe why the fuck he’s even after us!” Dean shouted.
“Dean chill—”
“No, I won’t chill! That fucking bastard is apparently out for our blood and it damn near got him killed! I want to know why.” Dean said, and he jabbed roughly at the fire. The flames flickered in Dean’s gaze and Sam tried not to shudder.
“Dean, we already had this conversation.” Castiel said, tilting his head. He was confused, probably about Dean’s anger. Sam knew better. That was how Dean expressed his fear. Cas had nearly died. Instead of worrying, Dean got angry. It was always how things went. Cas still didn’t seem to get that. Regardless that they’d known the angel nearly two years now.
“Really? When was that? Because I don’t remember it!” Dean was half shouting again. Sam blinked back into the conversation and cleared his throat as Cas just stared.
“Just before we left. You guys were arguing about where to go once we left the room.” Sam explained.
“Yes,” Castiel agreed with Sam. “And unfortunately I had to—oh.”
Dean blinked, half his anger leaving. “Oh?” Dean echoed.
“Dean, what’s the last thing you remember before waking up on the beach?” Castiel asked gently. It was Sam’s turn to frown now and he stared at his brother curiously. Dean opened and closed his mouths a few times. The process seemed to cool him down, and once the anger cleared, Dean rubbed his eyes.
“Me and Sam had just settled into the motel in Tallahassee. Dinky little place just outside the city.” Dean explained. “Why?”
Sam’s jaw nearly dropped. “Dean that was yesterday.” Sam explained.
“It was the teleportation. Dean slipped farther through the dimensions. Memory loss isn’t uncommon.” Castiel said. “We’re lucky he only lost a day.”
“I did what now?” Dean muttered. Then shook his head. “No, forget it, I don’t want to know.” He murmured, shaking his head gently. “So why is this angel after us? Refresh my lost memory.”
“From my understandings, he’s against the Arch Angels plan for rising up Lucifer.” Castiel explained.
“Great, we should get him a jacket.” Dean muttered.
“Wait, then why is he after us?”
“He believes the easiest way to prevent the apocalypses is to kill you both.” Castiel added simply, like it was another matter of fact.
“Of-fucking-course.” Dean growled. He cupped his face, breathing for a few moments. “And the fucker is still out there?”
Castiel gave them his baby-angel face, which Sam figured Dean akined to his puppy-eyes because Dean just shook his head and fell back against the grass. “I tried to keep him off your trail for as long as I could. But when I heard he’d caught wind of your next hunting location, I left to find you both immediately. I didn’t realize he was a step behind me.”
“It’s okay Cas. You got us out of there,” Sam said, giving Cas a thankful smile. “We’d be toast without you. Dean’s just frustrated he’ll get over himself.”
“I can totally hear you.” Dean muttered from his side of the fire. Sam’s smile widened into a grin and he leaned back into the grass on his elbows.
“Hey Cas, I ever tell you about the hunt we did last year in Indiana?” Sam wondered, watching his brother over the fire in case he stirred.
“That’s hardly specific Sam,” Castiel commented, but Sam knew he had his full attention.
“It was a witch hunt.” Sam added. Suddenly, Dean was upright and pointing his fire-poking stick at Sam’s face.
“We are NOT talking about that!” Dean muttered.
“You see Dean got himself hexed—” Sam continued and Dean growled when Sam dodged his stick, and then the fist full of sand, and continued to tell Castiel the whole damn story. Eventually, Dean fell back, covering his face as Sam and Castiel laughed, just wishing the night would be over and they could get off this fucking island.