She Drove a Cadillac - A Supernatural Fanfiction

Twenty - Wounds

Hi all!! I know it's been a long while since I've updated, so I didn't want to leave it on such an unhappy note with chapter 19.  So here is chapter 20 also as a bonus for not updating in a while. Please don't forget to vote and comment on this chapter! Hope you enjoy!

Also, Supernatural Season 12 has started and oh my god! It's awesome so if you haven't checked it out yet, go! :D
*************************************************************************************************************

"You may be deceived if you trust too much, but you will live in torment if you don't trust enough."
~ Frank Crane

It took a large amount of strength and grace, but Castiel managed to transport Jane and the Winchesters, and the Impala, back to the bunker. The poor car sat in a heap in the garage as Jane lay on the couch in the library, her knees pulled to her chest as she stared forlornly at nothing in particular. Sam had been placed on his bed with a glass of water and a bottle of Advil on his bedside table, wounds cleaned and patched up, Dean's handiwork. Cas promised to use his grace and heal him thoroughly once his strength returned.

After his brother was settled, Dean was unsure what to do next. He'd offered Jane food, water, all turned down by a quick shake of her head. He decided to tend to his Baby, because at least he knew how to fix that problem. So there he stood, wincing at the broken windows and dented side doors, trying his best to focus on a clean repair job and nothing else. Fixing the impala had become something that kept his mind focused, and amped up his determination.

The impala, she was home. Dean could fix his broken home. He only wished he could do the same for Jane.

He took a step back, his arms crossed as he studied her pensively. His eyes glided over the roughed edges, searching for a good place to start. Then he picked up his tools, ran his hand over the contorted metal, and began prying, separating, and piling piece after piece, putting everything together on the floor of the garage, like compiling the pieces of a puzzle. He wiped his forehead with the back of his wrist, smearing a dark brush of grease across it. He sighed and continued on.

He worked liked this for an hour more, no interruptions, no real thought, just Dean and his car. Classic Rock echoed through the garage, a Metallica song reaching the climax of a guitar solo. Dean was so focused that he hadn't even noticed Castiel stepping into the room, the door falling shut behind him. Dean turned to grab a wrench and was startled by the Angel. He rushed over to the radio in frustration.

"Jesus Cas, don't scare me like that!"

"I'm sorry Dean. I just came up to tell you that Sam is awake."

Dean's frown softened, "Oh. Well then, thanks."

"Oh, and Jane is...she is not sitting on the couch anymore. She is looking after Sam."

Dean looked down at his feet, at the dirt and grime covering his clothes, and he consciously wiped his hands and face on a rag he pulled out of his back pocket. His brow furrowed for a moment, but Castiel didn't know why. He cocked his head to the side as he waited for Dean to speak. Those candy-apple-green eyes met his bright blue ones for a second, then Dean nodded.

"Alright." He said with a kind of resolve in his tone. He threw the rag on his tool tray and walked past the Angel back into the bunker.

Castiel stood there with a raised eyebrow, thinking that was odd, "Alright." He repeated, then turned and followed after him.