Fallen

Chapter Ten

Celeste's P.O.V.

     As Dean closes the bathroom door behind him, I stretch out the muscles in my arms and legs. When I stretch my arms over my head, I realize that I'm still wearing the shirt with the gash in the stomach. I turn around to check if Sam is still asleep. He's curled under the covers facing away from me. I take off my shirt and toss it into the small trash bin that's across the room. Then I reach into my bag and pull out the first shirt that I touch.

Before I can straighten out the shirt to put it on, the bathroom door swings open. The sound makes me jump and face the bathroom. Dean stands in the doorway, not knowing how to react. I hesitantly cover my black bra, also not knowing how to react to this.

"Uh, sorry, uh," he fumbles. He awkwardly covers his eyes. "I'll just... Yeah," he says, closing the bathroom door back.

     I let go of the breath that hitched in my throat. Awkward... I slip the shirt I chose over my head. I step over to the bathroom and gingerly knock on the door. "You can come out now," I quietly say.

When Dean opens the door, he's standing right in front of me. There are mere inches between us. I realize how tall he actually is now that I'm standing so close. I have to look up at him and he has to look down at me. My heart is beating a mile a minute. I didn't think it was possible, but he manages to take a step closer to me. I try to take a deep breath, but it catches in my throat again. I'm paralyzed. I'm just stuck here looking up at Dean's green eyes.

"We should get going," he says in a low voice. He steps around me and walks past me.

It takes me a moment to regather myself. I turn back around to see Dean pushing on Sam's shoulder. Sam groans and lifts the covers up over his head. Dean turns to me and smirks. He walks to the foot of Sam's bed and grabs the corners of the covers. Then he yanks the blanket off of Sam, sending him curling himself into a groaning ball.

"Rise and shine, Sammy!" Dean belts. I giggle, though his volume doesn't help my headache.

Sam rolls over so that he's on his back, looking up at the ceiling. "Why," is all he says. I can't help but burst into laughter. These boys are crazy.

Eventually, Sam finally gets up and gets dressed. The boys remake the beds a little and gather their stuff as I slip on my black knee high boots that I packed. I also decide to put on my leather jacket so I look like I actually belong with the boys.

     Dean flicks the wide lapel of my jacket. "Nice," he says.

     I run my hand down the side with the zipper on the edge and smirk. "Thanks."

     "Get a room, you two," Sam says swinging a bag over his shoulder and exiting the motel room.

     Dean and I smile at each other and follow Sam out the door. I make my way to the car while Dean goes to turn in the motel key. I open the backseat door and start to toss my bag inside, but Sam speaks just before I do.

"You can put your bag back here if you want," he says from behind the car. I hadn't even noticed that he'd opened the trunk.

I swiftly take my angel blade out of my bag and slide it into my boot. It's a little bulky and uncomfortable, but it will give me a sense of security. "Sure," I say. I walk around to where Sam stands and set by bag in the open trunk next to his. I notice that the bottom of the trunk looks to be separated from the walls of it. "Is this a false bottom?" I ask, pushing down on it a little.

"Yeah," Sam replies. "It's where we keep all our hunting gear."

I smirk up at him. Good lord, and I thought Dean was tall. "Can I see?" I ask.

He half smiles. "Sure." He pushes our bags back so that they're out of the way. Then he lifts up the false bottom of the trunk and props it up with a gun.

Under the false bottom is a crazy-wide variety of different weapons. There are tons of different kinds of guns and ammo. I see at least four machetes.

     "Whoa," I say. Then I notice some other weird stuff in here. There are about five containers of rock salt, several rosaries, and a strange ceramic kettle-like thing. "Rock salt?" I ask, picking up one of the containers. "Rosaries? How is that hunting equipment?"

He takes the salt from me and places it back with the others. "It's all part of it, trust me," he says, reclosing the false trunk bottom.

Just as he closes the trunk, Dean arrives. "And we'll tell you all about it when we get back to the bunker, sweetheart," he continues.

     Sweetheart. Dean has called me this a few times now. I've never had a guy call me that before. Some girls get offended by the nickname. They treat it like someone just called them fat right to their face. I don't see why. I just find it an ironic nickname for me. I am anything but sweet.

     The three of us pile into the Impala, and Dean starts the car. After a few minutes of riding, I find myself fiddling with my angel blade in my boot. It makes me wonder about Castiel. Did he get a new angel blade after giving me his? Did he tell heaven that he lost it or something? Then I wonder about present Castiel.

     "Hey, how will Cassy know we'll be at this bunker?" I ask. "That is, whenever he gets back from... whatever it is angels do."

     "He knows we finished the case last night," Sam explains. "So he knows we'll be headed there."

     "Oh," I say. I get to thinking of what he could possibly be doing, and it makes me wonder if whatever he runs off doing now is the same thing he's been doing for almost 18 years now. "Don't you guys ever get sick of him just bailing?"

     "We're pretty used to it at this point," Sam says.

     I chuckle. "Guess I should be, too, huh?" I mumble.

     I see Sam and Dean give each other a look. It's the same look adults would give each other when I talked about my dad when I was a little kid. It's the look that means 'Aw, the poor girl.' I used to talk about him a lot. When I was in preschool, I used to say things like "My daddy's been away for work for a long time, but he should be home soon!" I didn't understand. To be honest, I'm not sure I do now. Because, yet again, he is nowhere to be found to help me understand it all.

     I don't know. Maybe I should cut him some slack. It's only been a day. I'm sure he's away on good reason. He has to be. Angels are servants of God, right? It's not like they go shooting pool, doing trick shots through their halos. He'll be back. I just need to be patient.