Angel Feather & Beer Bottled (2/?)

[theinsaneeraser]

Title: Angel Feathers & Beer Bottles
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Rating: PG-13 for this chapter, NC-17 overall
Summary: When Deans and Sams Fate goes missing, they find themselves tangled up in an ever bigger mess then they already are, and the outcome could be deadly. For both of them.
Spoilers: General Supernatural stuff.
Notes: O.o...Succeh Summary better story, I hope at least.

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"Do you want to spend your whole life jaded? Stuck in a rut that you created, Why don't you break the cycle? Let love win"

"And you want Him, and you need Him, But you act like He's not there, Yeah, you know that you're hollow, And something's missing here, So you push and, you pull the hole in your soul, But you can't make the hunger disappear."
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Dean popped the hotel room key into the lock, turned it, listened for the click and pushed open the door, only to be face to face with a man.

He stood maybe a hair’s breath shorter then Dean. His hair was darker then Deans and he had blue eyes instead of green. The man wore a tan trench coat with a black suite, white dress shirt and navy tie. He had a far away look to his eyes, like he wasn’t quite there, but Dean knew he was more there then anyone; he also knew he was an Angel…Literally.

“Hello Dean.” Castiel spoke, his breath tickling Dean’s chin.

Dean jumped back, throwing his hands up.

“Don’t do that!” He snapped, trying to calm his reckless breathing. “Damnit Cas, why were you in the doorway?”

“You weren’t here, I was about to go look for you.” Cas tilted his head. “Why are you all full of mud?”

“He got eaten by a swamp.” Sam chuckled, stepping up beside Dean.

“I thought you were going after a spirit, not a swamp, how did you get free?” Cas tilted his head in the ‘I don’t get it’ fashion.

Sam laughed and Dean groaned, making his way into the hotel room.

The hotel room was an ugly yellow green color, with matching floral, or something attempting to be floral, patterned sheets and curtains. There were two twin sized beds against the far wall, a plain table in-between them. There was a table off to the left, near a door leading to the bathroom, and a huge window on the same wall as the door.

 “Cas, it was a joke, I feel in the mud when the Spirit tried to take a bite…or chunk, out of me.” Dean shrugged and let his muddy coat fall onto the, now used to be, clean floor. “I need a shower; I’ll talk to you both after.”

Dean walked into the small bathroom, which was white instead of the weird color of the rest of the room. There was a small tub, with a plain white shower curtain, a toilet and a sink. He stood before the sink, after closing and locking the bathroom door, and looked over his reflection. His face was caked with mud to match his jeans. His shirt stayed clean, only because he had closed his jacket before the spirit showed up, trying to block out most of the rain.

She ran the water, half hot, half cold, and let it run until it was warm, then grabbed the small bar of soap and worked on getting most of the mud off his face and hands. After that he stripped off his t-shirt and examined his toned chest for any scrapes or bruises. After making sure he didn’t need anything doctor like, he slipped off his muddy jeans, then let his blue boxers follow, stepping into the tub.

He turned it on, testing the water for warmth, then turned it to the shower and stood underneath the spray. It was a harder spray then he had been expecting, and he let it massage away at the tight muscles, which would hurt like a bitch in the morning, of his shoulder. He relaxed into the spray, washing off the mud from his arms and hair, until the water went cold. He wrapped himself in a towel, dried off himself off, and got dressed in clean cloths, Sammy must have left him.

Dean grinned, feeling fresh and new, and stepped back into the room.

Cas sat at the table, while Sammy relaxed on the bed, typing away at his laptop. Dean flung himself on his own bed, putting his arms behind his head.

“Alright, so Cas, how’s the search for daddy going?” Dean didn’t mean anything mean by it, but he saw the hurt look on Cas’s face and regretted it.

“Not well.” Cas admitted, not looking at Dean.

“Well, cheer up; I’m sure you’ll find him. Then you can rub it in my face that he does exist and make a believer out of me.” Dean tried to cheer the Angel up.

“Thank you for the effort Dean.” Cas stood up. “But I do have a case for you both.”

Dean sat up, his sadness ebbed away by the Angel’s words, curiosity filling him once more.

“What’s that?” Dean asked, sounding like an excited child.

“There has been a disappearance, of someone important from Heaven.”

“Wait, so some Angel’s gone AWOL?” Sam asked, closing his lap top.

“Not an Angel exactly.”

“What do you mean, not exactly.” Dean pressed, his eyebrow raised. He was leaning forward.

“She’s. She’s not an Angel, and she’s a child.” Cas answered, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Whoa…wait, is she like, Gods daughter or something?” Dean blinked, choking on air.

“No, she was created, as were we all.” Cas said, staring at Dean with a look that said ‘shut up, don’t say another word’.

“Then what is she Cas?” Sam asked, pushing his laptop to the side, staring intently at the Angel.

“She’s a Fate.”

“Wait, you mean three fates, old hags, share an eye and gold string fate?” Dean was laughing, leaning back on his bed.

“No, she’s a Fate dean. There are about ten of them, less now. Most of them are being killed, or giving up their hearts, ripping it out of their chests and becoming human.”

“Ripping out their hearts…” Sam breathed his eyes a little wide.

“That’s sounds painful as hell, why would they do that?” Dean looked skeptical.

“It is their own way to rebel. But this Fate isn’t dead, or so we hope, and she hasn’t ripped out her heart. She is also young, only two hundred years old.”

“Only two hundred.” Dean snorted.

“That would make her, eight yard old in human years.” Cas stated. “There is a missing eight year old child.”

Dean stopped, his look going serious.

“What’s so special about her?”

“She is you’re Fate.” He looked at both Sam and Dean. “And Lucifer has wanted to get a hold of her for sometime; he can use her to control how the war play’s out. He can make Sam say yes.”

Dean felt his stomach drop as he stared at Cas, not knowing what to make of this. He turned to Sam as Sam looked back at him, a look of horror and fear in his expression. Dean tried to block all emotion from his own face, but the shock found its way through. He turned to Cas, who was looking deadly serious.

“I guess we have a Fate to hunt.”

“I’m coming with you.” Cas looked at them both.

“If, things have gone bad, I may be the only one able to control her. Or stop her.”

Dean looked at Castiel, deep into his eyes, trying to find any hint that Cas was lying, that the Angel had suddenly grown a pair and was joking with him. But Cas’s eyes stayed serious as he looked back at Dean. Dean looked away first and got up, grabbing his stuff.

“Then let’s go.”

Sam got up, grabbing his stu7ff as well.

“Do you know the last place she was seen?” Sam asked, throwing his bag over his shoulder.

“Columbia Missouri.”

Dean grabbed his car keys.

“That’s about a three and a half hour ride, not far. Let’s go.”

Chapter Three