ScatterbrainWhatever that thing in the bathroom was, it was laughing at them. Dean had stopped trying to reason with it, it was too weird, seeing it in his friend's body. That wasn't the case for Sam though. Whenever the manic laughter subsided he would knock, see if the things had faded away and if he could get a word in with one of the proper inhabitants.
Cas was strong, his Grace giving him the ability to fight the thing from the inside, take control of his body once more. He was losing though, exhausted, and the thing inside had his body longer each time. Sometimes when it faded it wasn't even Cas who came back through, but Jimmy. He would scream and cry and rake at the walls, trying anything to get rid of the thing burning away at his insides. Dean just hoped that he hadn't left any weapons in there, so Jimmy couldn't try to cut the thing out.
The laughing died down and Sam knocked on the door. "Cas?" he called, hoping that he'd get a gruff response.
He didn't. The voice was high pitched and
Protect Me From What I WantSam walked slowly, but he didn't want to walk at all. His hand tightly gripping the fiery ache in his side he forced himself forward. He couldn't stop. He had to keep going. He had to find Dean. Dean would know what to do. There was a line in his head and he kept repeating it, using it to drive himself forward. It was a simple line and soon it became a montra.
"It doesn't matter how slowly you go, as long as you do not stop."
The pressure that he was applying wasn't enough, his blood was still dripping from between his long fingers, soaking though both of his shirts and his jackets. He didn't know why he wore so much stuff. It was too hot. If he had the strength to he would have been stripping the layers off but in the back of his mind he remembered that overheated was a symptom of blood loss.
Dean was ahead of him, lying face first on the cement. He wasn't moving. Sam's pace quickened, taking him to his brothers side. He was bleeding just as badly as Sam was, but he was alive. This sh
In My DreamsDean was tired of walking. His muscles were aching and his feet were sore and he was hungry and he was tired and he was sweaty and he wanted a beer and he wanted to complain but he didn't. Cas was leading him through Purgatory and it seemed so evident that he was doing everything in his power to stay on topic that Dean didn't dare to distract him. He had been mostly sane since they came to Purgatory, only having a few random outbursts of his recent insanity, but it was taxing on him. Dean knew that Cas was still just as crazy as he had been, but he couldn't show it, he had to keep it inside.
"Where are we going?" Dean asked, maybe for the twentieth time.
"We're looking for somewhere safe." Cas growled, growing tired of the question.
Dean knew that. Of course he knew that. But there was no where safe in Purgatory. Everywhere there were monsters. They had been lucky so far, only having to fight them off a few times. They were watching from the shadows though and there were so many shadow
The New WorldHe was alone. For the first time in his life he was truly alone. Everything was dark and cold and horrible and there were eyes peering at him from the depths of the foggy twilight. He couldn't call Dad like he used to, him being dead for all this time. He couldn't call Bobby either, for much the same reason. Sam wasn't there, so he was thankfully safe, but he could not help at all. Even the crazy little angel had vanished.
Dean was alone in Purgatory.
He wanted to call out, to shout out his friends name in order to draw him back but he didn't. He stayed quiet. He didn't want to draw more of the things in the darkness to him. He had to find Cas though, he couldn't stand being so completely alone. So, he walked. He didn't know which direction the angel had disappeared to so he just guessed and headed.
It was a few minutes or years or hours before he picked up on his friends trail. It wasn't faint or old, the body still steaming and twitching. It looked like a dog, a black one, made out o
The Random ActYou could run an organization,
raise up money for a cause.
Save the world from some disease,
But never know the people that you impact.
You could give to charity,
Hope they'll use your givings well.
Ignore statistics on how much they keep.
Hope that someone, somewhere, cares.
You could fundraise for the world,
Save money from supporters,
Give it to those that you see fit,
And try not to keep any for yourself.
You could do a random act of kindess,
Nothing big or planned.
Just buying shoes for a little boy
Or giving flowers to a stranger
You could fly overseas with likeminded people,
Who've never built a thing in their lives
And you can build a home for children
And you can see them smile
You can do something important
Without a lot of money or agendas
You can change the world for someone
But you'll never know unless you do it yourself
You can save the world
One random act at a time
Handle With CareThe thing in the cage was all bones and blood and feathers, pressed up against the tight bars. Dean squinted, trying to see more, see what the thing was inside the cage, but it kept shifting, the black tipped wings scraping against the confines to hide its body and face all the more. Dean was curious, he wanted to know what was in the cage and, more than that, he wanted to help it. What he could see of its gaunt pale flesh was bloodstained; whip marks, burns, and gashes, ripping through what skin he could see. He knew that this thing was in pain and he wanted it to stop.
He couldn't move though, not really. He was stuck in place, only able to shift his eyes, blink, breathe, and talk. He couldn't shift his eyes for long though, or do anything else to look away from the thing in the cage for long, before a headache would crackle through his mind, forced and unnatural.
"Don't look." The caged thing would croak, its voice harsh and grating from screaming. It repeated it over and over again
Welcome 2 My NightmareIt was weird having an angel that could feel. Angel's weren't supposed to have emotions and as Cas became more human those feelings were flooding into him. It was painful to watch, each slight emotion ripping into him like a physical wound. He would clutch his gut, rocking forward in the pain of being amused by a small joke. He would clench his fists and bite his lip until they were bleeding, irritation knocking him off of his feet.
Even though he couldn't mojo himself away, the Winchesters still didn't see him all that much. He spent a lot of time in bathrooms, trying to get away from them to feel things on his own, to calm down, and he wouldn't come out until he was no longer shaking.
At first they had tried to keep him emotionless. Sam wouldn't tease Dean, he wouldn't reveal any research when Cas was around, he wouldn't ask for them to open up and talk about their feelings. Dean wouldn't reference tv shows and movies, he wouldn't tease Sam, he wouldn't drink, or bring women back to