Closure (A Supernatural Fanfic)

5 - Finding Nemo...wait. His name is James.

(Author's note: Brief drug use mentioned and human trafficking also mentioned. And violence. That's your warning.)

Jody

The sunlight is filtering through the foliage, creating interesting light and dark patterns. The mid-day sunlight peaks bits of warmth in where it can reach.

Despite the fact that I've known him for a while now, I'm not used to Castiel just materializing out of nowhere like he does. So, when he's suddenly standing beside Dean, it startles me. I let out a yelp and jump a few inches back.

"Hey, Cas." Dean greets his friend, as casually as if he'd just walk up.

"What's going on?" Castiel looks around, and sees exactly what's going on:

James Elroy, unconscious, slumped up against the nearest elm tree. Unconscious, but alive. I'm just grateful we found him before the search was officially started.

His dark skin is similar to the color of some of the fallen leaves from last autumn. His short, flat top hair is tangled with twigs and leaves and various other flora. His eyes are closed. He looks like he's just taking a nap in the woods. His chest is just barely rising up and down. I can hear him wheeze. His mom, Christina, did mention he was asthmatic. She gave me his rescue inhaler for when he was found. That woman was so optimistic her baby was still breathing.

"I can feel it, Sheriff. My boy's out there. Mother to mother, we both know you know what I'm talking about."

Mother to mother. I swallow back the lump in my throat. It's been years since Owen died. But I do know exactly what she's talking about, still, nevertheless. When he died the first time...I knew it. It was like feeling a fraction of my own soul, my own heart, was torn in two, his death leaving behind the smaller half. Was this because I saw it happen? Or is it a bond all mothers have with their children?

"You've found the boy?" Cas breaks the brief silence.

"This is him. I just need to know, Cas—is he okay? Internal bleeding, broken bones, anything besides an asthma attack?" I ask him.

Castiel kneels over James and reaches out to touch his face. There's a moment silence.

"He's fine. Besides the asthma attack. That's what has made him black out, he doesn't have enough oxygen to sustain consciousness." He says.

"So he hasn't been here long?" Dean asks.

"Not really. Twenty minutes at the most."

"That's not good," Dean states.

"I can fix him."

A warm light shines from below his palm, and James's eyes fly open in alarm. He gasps for breath, limbs flailing. Castiel settles him down by grabbing his shoulders. I run to one side, Dean to the other.

I feel the inhaler in my shirt pocket, ready to pull it out in case he induces himself into another attack.

"Heyheyhey. Kid. James? It's me. It's Sheriff Mills. You're going to be okay. Can you hear me?" I ask him.

He looks to me, eyes wild. He nods.

"Perfect. Listen, buddy, we're here to help you. Now, I need you to do as I say, okay? Take a deep breath in through your nose, out through your mouth. I'll do it with you. One, two, three, in!" I breath in with him as Dean gives him encouraging comments.

"We got you, kid. You're okay." Dean says.

It's a good two or three minutes before we get James settled down. His breathing is back to normal, and he stares ahead, eyes wide.