Chapter Four, the Final Chapter

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"It looks like it's healing up pretty nicely." Dean pokes and prods my shoulder in various places before he stands up and crosses his arms over his chest. "You do realize that Cas could get rid of that scar like that?" He snaps his fingers at me. "All you'd have to do is ask."

"I know, Dean. But," I button up shirt so that it covers the scar again and smile, watching him open the Impala's trunk. "I need it. It's a reminder."

He rolls his eyes and snorts at me. "A reminder of what? That I can't sew?"

"Hey!" I can't help but laugh and Dean smiles. "I don't care how it looks."

Dean purses his lips and glances over at me impatiently. "Please. It looks like those mountains on a globe." He starts rooting around in Baby's trunk. "You know," Dean's hand waves at me, holding a sawed off shot gun. Self preservation compels me to reach out and take the gun away. "the ones that are all bumpy?"

"Dean, it's not that bad." I rub my thumb over the worn out shotgun aimlessly. -D.W- is carved into the side of the barrel and my finger traces over it incessantly. Dean is Dean. Dean is also demonic though... Dean.

"Liar." He pops up from digging in the trunk holding the same beat up, green Army issue duffel bag from my house and grins at me. The trunk slams and he walks away. "Come on. Let's go see if Sam wants to shoot with us."

"Ouch..." I laugh and listen while Dean continues telling me that my scar reminds him of a globe.

"Hold your elbows like this." Sam pushes my elbows in closer to my body a little bit and holds them there. "Now try it."

I take a deep breath and aim for the head of the paper target. And squeeze, I tell myself, exhaling and squeezing the trigger of the pistol at the same time. The recoil jerks my arms a little, but not as much as it had before Sam corrected my form. But, then again, it probably also helps that he held my arms stable.

"Hey," Dean hops over the railing, crosses the indoor range and yanks my target down, examining it as he returns and hands it to me. "not too shabby."

The bullet hole is a bit off to the right, but, still well within the silhoutte of a person on the target. "I'm getting better!"

"You really are." Dean's stomach grumbles and a boyish grin lights up his face.

I return his grin cheerfully and Sam laughs. "I've gotta go. I'm cooking lunch, so I have to go on a grocery run." His hazel eyes seem golden and green today.

"I'm going to stay. I have to talk to Dean." I nod and smile. "Grab me some ice cream, okay?"

"Alright." He squeezes my shoulder lightly and nods. "I'm glad you're okay, Alex."

"Me too, Sam. Me too." I smile at him and he head off towards the door.

"Um, Dean?" I jam my hands in my back pockets.

"Um, Alex?" He smirks and looks up from the phone. "What's up?"

"Where has Castiel been?"

All motion stops and I swear Dean is frozen, but, then he takes a huge breath and drops his phone onto the shooting bench. "I don't know." The worry in his voice is evident. Dean's bright green eyes are shadowed and dark. For a moment, I swear they flash black. "I haven't seen him since he brought us back from Colorado Springs."

I balk at that. "What?! That was nearly three weeks ago!"

"I know." He shakes his head and looks down the range. "I haven't been able to get a hold of him, either."

"You're not even getting anything on prayer channel?" My eyes widen and Dean shakes his head violently. "I don't like it." My stomach twists into an ugly knot. I don't like it. I don't like it at all, I think, spinning on the heel of my foot and facing away from him. I let my head drop and I close my eyes, taking a deep breath. "Castiel, where are you? Please answer me? It's been weeks since we've seen you, and we're kind of worried."

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