Chapter Text
There it was, everything they needed: the symbols, the words, the instructions from the table that wasn't in a language either of them could understand, but Dean couldn't be happier; the smile that spread across his face was not just one of triumph, but of a relief that had weighed on his shoulders for weeks. Sam, on the other hand, felt like he could finally breathe, as if the air no longer hurt to enter his lungs.
The sky lit up with a flash of lightning, followed by the rumble of thunder that shook the ground beneath their feet. Everything seemed like it was out of a damned movie. Dean looked up, a half-smile still on his lips, "Did you have any idea it was going to rain today, Sammy?" he asked, carefully storing the table in a bag.
"No, I don't think so. Maybe it's the effects of that damned table. At least we managed to complete the mission and can get drunk in peace now." Sam joked, taking the bag when Dean handed it to him.
The walk to the car was like each step was a new way to breathe. Dean was satisfied with every choice they made to get the demon table and finally close the doors of that place, one less problem, he thought. "I know. And you wanted to stay in the same place, we had to get out of the state to get to the table, Sam! That's why I never listen to you."
"I'm sorry, really." Sam apologized. "If you hadn't listened to me this time, we would have found it much sooner. That's why you shouldn't listen to me."
"I'll keep that in mind." Dean smiled and opened the door of the Impala for Sam to place the table inside, and then Dean closed the door. Sam sat back in his usual seat in the car, and Dean did the same.
Dean turned the key, and the roar of the engine filled the silence of the night. The rain started to fall, first timidly, then with more force, hitting the windshield in a rhythm that was almost hypnotic. Dean cast a final glance at the rearview mirror, as if expecting to see something more than darkness behind them. Then he turned on the radio, and by chance, Led Zeppelin was playing. Sam rolled his eyes at seeing Dean's mischievous smile as he turned up the volume.
"Time to fulfill the promise. Drinks and a long night of sleep, right?" he said, turning on the lights and starting to drive.
"That sounds like a plan," Sam nodded, letting the weight of the night start to lift from his shoulders. "But you owe me a healthy lunch."
Dean raised an eyebrow, amused.
"Sure, Sammy. Whatever you want. I'm sure we'll end up eating poorly anyway."
And with that, the Impala disappeared into the wet road, leaving behind the place, the table, and the ghosts of another night.
Unless that ghost was scheduled in Sam's cell phone as "I owe you thousands of favors (Meg)."
"If you have time, you should come." The brunette wrote.
Sam hadn't read the message until the following night, around 2 PM, when he finally managed to open his eyes after the hangover from the previous day.
The road of the night had been a full-on karaoke session courtesy of Dean, and Sam sometimes got caught up in Dean's energy.
Sam rubbed his eyes, his head still heavy from the hangover. Meg's message was still there, like an uncomfortable echo of something he didn't want to face so early. Or so late. Or ever.
He checked his cell phone as soon as he woke up, looked at the message. It seemed strange to him, that message. But he woke Dean up a second after reading it. "Dean, hey. Can you wake up?" he said, shaking him.
"What do you want now, Sam? This is the second time you're bothering me," Dean moved his head to the other side and went back to sleep.
"Meg wrote to me. She didn't give any details, but she said if we could go, we should." He shook Dean again. "Dean, wake up," he shook his brother again. Dean put the pillow over his head and groaned. "Something must have happened to Cas." Dean groaned again.
"Can you get your ass out of bed, brother?" Sam said irritably.
"Never again will I get drunk with you." Dean said, sitting up in bed while rubbing his face and then looking at Sam with some irritation. "Who of the two is better to drive?"
"I stopped drinking at 2 AM and you kept going. Give me the keys, idiot." Dean looked around and then shrugged; he didn't know where he had left the keys. Sam, on the other hand, got out of Dean's bed and started looking for them. Dean didn't pay much attention and got up to go to the bathroom.
Sam found the keys on the floor near Dean's bed. He took his cell phone again.
Meg hadn't written back after he had replied or rather, asked with a "What happened?" and the mere idea that something might have happened to Cas was killing him. What could have happened? And why that message at midnight when they had just managed to find the table? They weren't far from the state (thankfully) but they had a long way to go to get there and arrive early.
"Five hours with traffic, but three and a half at most if we leave now," Sam commented as Dean packed his things in a bag. He lowered the cell phone and looked at his brother. "Do you think something might have happened to Cas regarding the table?"
"I don't know, Sammy. The only thing I want is to be sure that nothing bad will happen to us from now on. At least until this situation with Cas improves."
"I want to believe that will be the case." Sam took the keys and his things to then leave the room accompanied by Dean, who also carried the bag with the table.
Sam sat in the driver's seat while Dean stored everything in the car trunk.
He hated long drives, especially if he had to be the driver. Especially if it was something related to Cas.
"Well, we can go now." Dean said, settling into the passenger seat.
The first few hours of the long journey to the hospital were difficult.
Sam looked anxious. During traffic stops, he cursed under his breath for the delay. Sometimes he honked the horn and other times he just looked anxious even without doing anything.
"Sam, bro. Is everything okay?" Dean asked when they were finally able to move. Sam didn't look at his brother, but the concern in his voice was clear.
"Everything is fine, I just... — "I want to get there to see Cas. I miss him, you know? I want to kiss him again and also hug him and promise him that I'm there for him if he wakes up or if he doesn't, I'll kill anyone" he wanted to say — I'm worried about what we might find when we get to the hospital."
"Oh. I'm sure Meg just wants to play a prank on us. It's not something bad." Dean's gaze softened and he looked forward again. "You know how she is," he added, downplaying it.
Sam wanted to believe that was the case. He simply looked out the window, sighing.