torakiji
beans
"Damn it, Cas! You haven't picked up your freakin' phone in two weeks. Call me..!" Dean practically shouted into the receiver of his cell phone before ending the call with a sharp push of the off button. He knew he shouldn't get too annoyed with the guy - he barely knew how to make a voicemail - but something just didn't feel right. Something was gnawing deep in his gut that there was a reason Castiel wasn't picking up the phone.
The issue had first come up when about a day short of two weeks ago, Dean tried to pray to Castiel. Something with regards to the damn Mark of Cain on his arm, looking for guidance or help on the particular subject. He honestly hated asking for help, but when things turned out tough, or when the end seemed near, Dean knew that Cas would always be there. Through thick and thin.
And yet, here he was, on his knees, praying. And where was Castiel?
Sam had protested for about an hour about Dean leaving the motel to go find the guy after Dean had received a suspicious, taunting voicemail from Crowley, but of course, the eldest brother wouldn't hear of it. There was just something all wrong about their angel friend going missing for this long and it made him sick to his stomach waiting around for something to happen or for Cas to suddenly appear like he normally did.
"I don't care that it's dangerous with me being out there with this stupid mark, okay?" Dean pointed angrily towards the motel door, gun held sharp towards the ground in the other hand. "Cas is out there, Crowley knows where he is, and I'll be damned if I'm going to sit around and wait for something to happen. You can sit here and mope about all you like." With that, Dean high tailed it the hell out of there before Sam could whine any more. He slipped into the Impala (carefully, of course), slammed the door (also carefully), and revved the engine to life. Rolling away from the motel, Dean drove the Impala straight into town to the location that Crowley had specified in the voicemail.
When he rolled up to the building, at first he had to scoff. It was just an old abandoned warehouse. "Really, Crowley? That's creative.." he muttered nonchalantly while stepping out of the car, gun in hand, and stealthily making his way to the door. Entering the threshold of the building, which was just a large, open space with random boxes covered with dusty blankets and sheets laying around, Dean took a few steps forward with the gun cocked. "Cas?" He called out, "You in here..?"
@ChampionRed007
The issue had first come up when about a day short of two weeks ago, Dean tried to pray to Castiel. Something with regards to the damn Mark of Cain on his arm, looking for guidance or help on the particular subject. He honestly hated asking for help, but when things turned out tough, or when the end seemed near, Dean knew that Cas would always be there. Through thick and thin.
And yet, here he was, on his knees, praying. And where was Castiel?
Sam had protested for about an hour about Dean leaving the motel to go find the guy after Dean had received a suspicious, taunting voicemail from Crowley, but of course, the eldest brother wouldn't hear of it. There was just something all wrong about their angel friend going missing for this long and it made him sick to his stomach waiting around for something to happen or for Cas to suddenly appear like he normally did.
"I don't care that it's dangerous with me being out there with this stupid mark, okay?" Dean pointed angrily towards the motel door, gun held sharp towards the ground in the other hand. "Cas is out there, Crowley knows where he is, and I'll be damned if I'm going to sit around and wait for something to happen. You can sit here and mope about all you like." With that, Dean high tailed it the hell out of there before Sam could whine any more. He slipped into the Impala (carefully, of course), slammed the door (also carefully), and revved the engine to life. Rolling away from the motel, Dean drove the Impala straight into town to the location that Crowley had specified in the voicemail.
When he rolled up to the building, at first he had to scoff. It was just an old abandoned warehouse. "Really, Crowley? That's creative.." he muttered nonchalantly while stepping out of the car, gun in hand, and stealthily making his way to the door. Entering the threshold of the building, which was just a large, open space with random boxes covered with dusty blankets and sheets laying around, Dean took a few steps forward with the gun cocked. "Cas?" He called out, "You in here..?"
@ChampionRed007
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