The Last Goodbye

1

"Can you turn that shit down, Dean?" Sam groaned, peering over the screen of his lap top. "I am working."

Across the dingy Tacoma motel room, Dean was engrossed in a Spanish telenovela. He lounged propped up on an elbow, on his too-short bed, on top of the recently-made comforter. He didn't take his eyes off of the hazy television screen and decreased the volume from 28 to 26.

His little brother rolled his eyes and grumbled, "Gee, thanks, dude."

Both Winchesters were tired of Tacoma. Tired ofthe rain. Tired of their latest address. The same cobb salad and bacon burgerevery night at the 24-hour diner across the street. Tired of each other.Brothers stranded with no case to occupy them and no car to get them the Hellout of town. All Dean could think about was his Baby, alone in a strange garagein a strange town, waiting for her new clutch to arrive. 

Over a week ago, Sam got a call from a hunter named Ambriel about a nest of vamps in Washington, and the boys headed west out of Kansas that night. Cas had been updating wards in the bunker for weeks, and it wasn't going well. The fallen angel had been spending every moment over the last 2 weeks, day and night, wandering around the bunker muttering celestial phrases with his face in various works from the Men of Letters' extensive library. They were desperate to get as far away from Castiel as possible. Two days in the Impala one-way to get a potential case seemed like overkill to the angel, but to the boys, it was worth every second spent away from the mumbling madman in a trench coat shuffling around their home, cursing into the pages of ancient books. The trek to the northwest was a vacation in itself, with only one downside. They finally arrived at the destination, ready to hunt. But there was no nest. No vamps. No case. Just a long-empty warehouse in a grungy marina.

"That chick who called, said there was something here for us, what's her name?" Dean asked Sam after they searched every crevice in the dilapidated building.

"Ambriel, allegedly the kid of a hunter in Bobby's old network."

"Huh...never heard of her," Dean knew from the air nothing but rats had inhabited that place in years. "She must've told someone we were coming to take care of business. Vamps caught wind and fled."

Sam knew better but replied, "She sounded pretty young, makes sense."

They left the old marina and scoured the area for a motel. Dean drove through the still-humming metropolis while Sam scrolled through a discount hotel website on his phone. He finally found a place with a vacancy close to the highway. The Impala's transmission slipped as Dean slowed to exit. The engine clicked abruptly and shut off, and they rolled to a stop in the shoulder of the exit ramp 2 blocks away from their motel.

After several desperate attempts to get the enginegoing and lots of cement-kicking, Dean gave in and called AAA. Sam reassuredhim, "it's just a car, we'll get it fixed," which only made Dean moreirritable. The tow-truck arrived and a husky middle-aged man slid out andwaddled around his rig to the Impala. While Sam explained the situation, Deancould only focus on the moon shining on the man's protruding forehead. Streetlights flickered in the beads of sweat cascading down his sparsely-haired head.Dean's throat tightened and he coughed to banish the warmth creeping behind hiseyes as he watched the greasy stranger load his Baby onto the truck and driveaway. 

Dean stared at the television, unaware of what he was watching, lost in his mind. He tried to make sense of their situation. He knew under any normal, non-sketchy circumstances he should have had Baby out of the shop 3 days ago. Something about the call they received, from the alleged Ambriel, yelled to him this whole damn case was a trap, but it had been a week and nothing had come for them. No mysterious deaths. No omens. Nothing but boredom in the Pacific Northwest in spring.

Dean was mulling over every microscopic aspect of his and his little brother's predicament, when the sounds of his favorite Led Zeppelin song echoed faintly in his ears... His heart skipped at the familiarity.

...Tangerine, Tangerine, Living reflection from a dream...

His mind flickered- the realization Castiel was calling him jolted him to focus on the buzzing brick in his back pocket.

"H-Hey, Cas."

"Hello, Dean," the angel's voice ricocheted through the phone, rumbling like a crashing wave. "How are you?"

"Other than being pissed off and bored as Hell, I'm fine," Dean wasn't trying to be a dick, and guilt quickly filled his chest- a familiar sensation.

"The car is still defective, I presume."

"Yeah, man. I don't get it. If I had had a decent place to work on her, I could have had us back home by now. It doesn't make any damn sense," Dean reflected his worries to his friend.

The angel's voice was frayed, Dean's nerves itched as Castiel spoke, "Unfortunately, Dean I believe you are correct. Your concern is not misplaced. After looking into this 'Ambriel,' I am under the impression you were led there intentionally. Possibly into a trap, but obviously, the lack of attack against you and Sam makes this seem less likely. The name Ambriel though- I knew an angel by that name. I would have considered her one of few angels I could always trust. Before Earth, Lucifer, the Apocalypse, all of it. She was a loyal soldier and reliable confidant."

"Okay...well what the hell does she want with us? What's with the elusion?" Dean didn't know whether he was more upset with the culprit for dragging them across the country or wasting their time by not even striking them.

"I am afraid I have no idea, Dean." Castiel was silent for several moments.

"...Seriously? That's all you got?" Dean had a difficult time hiding his frustration.

He could actually hear Cas' hesitant shuffles through the line. He couldn't help but smirk.

"Well actually, no... I'm sure it is not Ambriel, the angel." Castiel grudgingly muttered.

Dean breathed stiffly into the phone.

"...Dean?"

"YES, CAS? Let me get this straight. You called to tell me... This is a trap. You once knew this chick named Ambriel. Which leads me to believe this is a bunch of angel drama I have be unwillingly drug into. But wait... Nope. Your angel pal, Ambriel has nothing to do with the Ambriel who led us here. Castiel..."

Castiel winced when the hunter bellowed his name. His whole name, not the friendly moniker he was used to hearing from Dean.

"...Do you have any helpful information? Like at all?" Dean probed, sarcastic enough for even Castiel to recognize.

"I'm sorry, Dean. I don't really know what else to tell you. Ambriel the angel died in the fall. She couldn't have anything to do with this. There is no evidence of any ambiguous forces in the Tacoma area. I wish I could help more, Dean. I am truly sorry," Castiel's voice desperate for forgiveness from his friend.

"Jesus, Cas..." Dean scrambled an apology. "It's fine. It's not your fault. I really wasn't trying to be a douche. I appreciate you lookin' for answers, I do. I'm just... I miss Baby... and this town sucks." He really didn't know why he was being such a jerk to Cas. He's in freaking Kansas. He is doing all he can to help the boys get home.

Cas released a placated sigh. "I wish I could be of more assistance, Dean. If could still... 'beam' myself to your location... I would."

Dean chuckled at Cas' wording, "Thanks, Cas. But I doubt it'd help. Screw it man, Trouble is too big a bitch to come for me, I'm going after Trouble mydamnself," Dean resolved.

"Wait, Dean, no- I-I do not think that is the best idea. Where's Sam?" Cas pleaded to his friend.

"Oh, at the laundromat? Or running? I have no idea. I got sucked into a Carolina Tejera marathon, I honestly couldn't even tell you what day it was. I'll leave Sam a note though. I am going back to the warehouse." Castiel attempted to protest before Dean's, "I'll talk to you later, Cas." And Dean hung up.

Dean grabbed his gun and an angel blade and dashed out of the motel room.