Caged Birds **Castiel/ Supernatural**

Chapter Five

We stayed up for a couple hours, laughing softly, but eventually Sam had fallen asleep. I grabbed the remote, clicking the power button, the small screen went black and silence surrounding me as I leaned back sinking into the rough fabric of the couch.

At some point I must have fallen asleep, because I don't remember a thing until voices were whispering in the hall. Two of the voices were obviously Sam and Deans but the third person I didn't know who it was. I recognized out as the voice from Bobby's place, I would know that voice anywhere.

Sam was speaking now, he sounded upset. My name was mentioned once or twice and then the conversion redirected. I was holding my breath, holding as still as I could, if they thought I was awake the stranger would leave, and I would be accused of eavesdropping.

"I know they only have two more doors to open!" Dean roared, and then he lowered his voice again. I was even more confused. The handle began to turn and I closed my eyes, pretending to be asleep.

The same whooshing noise from last time sent my hair wavering with a new breeze. Footsteps, probably Sam and Dean walking back into the room, and the door closing quietly. I felt a pair of eyes stairing at me so I made a show of rolling over, and waking up.

"What's up?" I asked, sitting up, rubbing pretend sleep out of my eyes.  At first I thought I was caught, but Dean just grunted and turned around and began to pack their bags.

Standing up, I rolled my neck, cringing at the popping noise it made, looking at both of them expectantly. Neither of them seemed to notice, too wrapped up in their own activists to realize that I was still waiting for an answer. My stuff was still stuffed into my multiple bags, that I have never gotten around to unpacking. I cleared my throat loudly, shocked when it actually worked and they both turned around and looked at me.

"Anybody care to tell me what we are doing?" I tried again. My hands were planted firmly on my waist, one side jutting out slightly in a sassy pose.

"Packing." Dean said sarcastically, in response I punched his arm, hard enough that I probably left a bruise there. I saw Sam stiffle a laugh and shove more items into the old beat up off black bag. Dean glared at me but I could tell he was holding back a laugh himself.

We both looked at different places trying to act like that had never happened, that we hadn't joked around for a second. I shifted from one leg to another awkwardly, only waiting a moment before Sammy moved between us to get to a new pile of stuff.

"Can I get a coffee before we go?" I asked, grabbing my backpack, flinging it over my shoulder like I wasn't feeling completely awkward about the entire situation.

God, I thought, just being around them makes me itch with awkwardness.

"Nope," Dean said, walking out the door. I looked at Sam with a mock glare, and he just laughed at me.

"You are laughing now," I warned, "but when I go coffee crazy I swear I'm taking him with me."

"I've got a surprise for you," he coaxed, moving to the microwave provided by the cheapskate motel, and opened it up. From inside he pulled out a still steaming cup of coffee from a gas station down the road.

 "Never mind, I love you right now... And I will tolerate Dean for the time being," I crowed.

"And how long is that going to be?" Sam asked, grabbing his bag as he walked towards the door.

"Til I get in the car," I replied with an impish grin.

"Hurry up!" Dean yelled through the door. "Unless you guys are getting fresh in there, then take all the time you need, Sammy."

I threw open the door purposely shoving Dean with my shoulder, muttering 'pig' under my breath. With hardly a passing glance, I jumped into the car; once I was sitting in the backseat I saw Sam come out of the room and glare menacingly at Dean.

"What?" Dean asked almost innocently, and they both stepped into the car.

In the backseat, I laid down resting my feet on the seat and using the side of the car to lean my back against. Near silently, I hummed along with the radio that was blasting Metallica.

"You better not scratch my leather," Dean growled, looking at me from the rear view mirror. I stuck out my tongue in reply to his ridiculous and utterly childish comment about his car; I swear he loves this car more than most of the people that he meets. Quietly, I chuckled at the the thought.

I grabbed two pens out of my bag and drummed along quietly to the beat of the song, and even played perfectly along with the beat until the end where I did an impromptu solo til the next song started, which was Wanted Dead or Alive by Bon Jovi. 

Somehow I had dozed off in the back of the car, and missed it when we had pulled onto an exit to a small town; yet, somehow, I woke up the the Impala's door being shut roughly. I forced myself to remain still until I heard the footsteps walk away. Near silently, I sat up only peeking the slightest bit out the back window to watch two shadows walk away into the dark children park. When they were completely out of earshot I opened the door and let it fall shut without a sound. 

In full out sneak mode, I followed them; always watching them but never close enough to be detected.

Eventually they stopped, and seemingly out of nowhere a dark haired man, in a trench coat, appeared I stifled a gasp and looked  for others. The man seemed to be alone, and also seemed to know the Winchesters very well. 

I tried to listen to their conversation, but they were speaking in hushed voices and I could hear absolutely nothing. Their talking appeared to be tense, Dean was leaning forward with the childish "I Didn't Get My Way" look on his face. Whereas Sam,  he had a sassy, bitch face on; his arms crossed across his torso. The Trench Coat was up in Dean's face, and the serious look on his face sent chills down my spine. Goose bumps littered my arms and legs, and it had nothing to do with the cold wind.

Shifting closer, I tried to quietly tried to listen into what they were saying. I kept my breathing shallow, in fear that they would hear.

In the blink of an eye, Trench Coat was gone. Heartbeat in my throat, I spun around looking for where he went. He had completely disappeared; not a footprint or ruffled branch to direct me in where he had went. 

In my search, I had failed to see the shadow that fell over me.