Nothing Like Home //Sabriel//Destiel *discontinued*

Pastel ride

  "Hey, dean. Come check this out," Sam sighed through his nose and looked up from his computer, "I think I have a lead on Timmy Swan's death."

  Dean sat up slowly from the bed and made his way to Sam, where he leaned his elbows on the round coffee table and looked in awe at the gruesome explanation of the small boys mysterious, and very odd death.

  "His great granny ganked him? If this is another red riding hood show down I'm out of here!" Dean stood up and took a swig of his beer. He wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his green work shirt and paced around the hotel room.

  "Yeah, well it's starting to look that way," Sam closed his laptop and held his head in his hands, "I mean, there was already a snow white related death last week and we barely had enough time to crack that before this case went down!"

  Dean gave Sam an exasperated look, "So what are you saying Sam, that we ditch this case and never look back?"

  "Well, yes." Sam sighed and ran his hand through his hair.

  Dean stood in front of his brother and raised his voice, "Sam, this is the second case we've ran from in the past four weeks. We are not ditching this one, even if it does suck."

  "But you said your self that if this was a fairy tale case, you would hit the road." Sam stood up and leaned to the side, mocking his brother.

  "You ever heard of a thing called sarcasm?" Dean shook his head and finished his drink, sitting back down on the bed.

"yeah, whatever Dean....Anyway," Sam sat back down at the coffee table with his back slumped and his fingers laced together, his brow furrowed in concentration," I called Bobby earlier...and I have some good news!"

"Mhmm..." dean mumbled, not looking at Sam.

Sam sighed, "apparently there are no signs of Lucifer, The horse men, not even god! It's like they all disappeared before we got the chance to fight them."

"Bad news," a deep throated voice cut through the awkwardness like a knife and the brothers spun around to face Castiel. Cas held a knife in his bloodied hand, and his face was blistered and bruised, and his painful looking limp was unmistakable.

"Cas!?" Dean exclaimed, hefting the angels arm over his shoulder, "Its okay, buddy. Sam, Help me out here!"

Sam ran over and assisted Dean. Together they gently rested Cas on one of the queen sized beds. Cas hacked a mess of blood unto his hand and dropped the sword on the bed, his face pale and weary.

"What the hell happened to you?" Sam asked, worry creasing his brow.

Cas looked up at them with a serious, deadly expression, "This war has not ended. It is true you will not have to fight the horrors of Lucifer...but their are others," He coughed again and slumped over. Dean lifted him back up gently.

"What is it Cas? Whatever it is we can kill it!" Dean said, a cutting edge of anger in his voice.

"No...You can't.." Cas shook his head and gave the boys a pitiful glance, "You are not yet strong enough. You...do not have the right tools, per se."

Sam kneeled in front of Cas, "Cas...who did this..what did this to you?"

Cas looked up and his eyes grew wide,"An arch angel."

Dean stood up and moaned in exasperation,"An Arch Angel!? Come on! Those chuckle heads are impossible, how did you even escape, Cas?"

"I don't know," Cas replied, his gaze meeting Dean's startled eyes.