Unexpectedly

The Search

Dean's POV

I drove furiously down the road, tires squealing at every turn. I distantly heard Sam telling me to slow down, that I was going to run into a tree. I didn't listen. I was seeing red. All that was on my mind was finding Cas. I was not going to lose him again.
"DEAN!" I slammed on the brakes instinctively. A baby deer and its mother had wandered on to the road, I would have hit them if Sam hadn't yelled. The deer walked off the road.
The fact that Cas was gone, again, sunk in. I was numb. I couldn't breath.
"Dean?" Sam's voice was distant, as if coming from the end of a tunnel. I was so tired. I just wanted Cas. I just wanted to lay together in our bed and talk about what ever came to our minds.
"Dean?" Sam asked again. His voice came in a little clearer this time, like he was only halfway through the tunnel.
"Dean, I-I think I should drive." I felt myself nod. I got out of the car and walked around to the passenger seat. We were stopped in the middle of the road, thank god there was no cars coming.
I put my head between my hands and rested my elbows on my knees. Tears rolled down my cheeks as a sob forced its way out of my throat.
"We'll find him Dean. We found him before, we'll find him again."

Cas's POV

"W-what do you mean, "You're not on the side of the angels?"
"You know perfectly well what it means, Castiel," the mysterious man said.
"B-But I'm not even an angel anymore. I lost my grace. I'm human." I was panicking. He held a gleaming knife in his hand and was slowly walking towards me. His face was impossible to make out. It was like a thick fog was covering it, even though everything else in the room was perfectly clear.
     He leaned over me as he reached the chair I was bound to. Even though I could barely see any expression I could tell he was looking me over, like I was an animal sent to the butcher ready to be slaughtered. The knife gleamed wickedly, catching the light. There was an inscription on the blade, it looked like Enochian, but it was too worn out to read clearly.
"Now...where should we start?" He let the knife trace my collarbone, making my skin crawl. He moved it up to my mouth, putting the point right against my bottom lip. It was sharp, it was barely pressing against my skin and a small trickle of blood ran down my chin. He suddenly raised his arm and made a long gash on my cheek. I gasped in pain. It wasn't deep, but it stung like hell.
"What should we do next?" he asked as he grabbed a cloth and wiped the knife. "I don't want to hurt your pretty face too much."
"Screw you." My anger swelled up. I wanted to take that stupid knife of his and shove it right up his-
"Oh, I know the perfect spot." He walked right next to me and drove the knife into my shoulder.
I screamed. The pain was agonizing. My vision blurred as he dug the knife in deeper. I wanted to pass out, to not feel the pain anymore but I made myself stay awake.
He yanked the knife out of my shoulder, causing more pain. I dropped my head to my chest, breathing heavily. My entire arm was on fire. Blood was gushing from my shoulder.
"Dean..." I couldn't stand the pain anymore. I heard the man laughing as I passed out.

Dean's POV

     It seemed like we were driving for hours, when in reality it was only a few minutes. Every minute without Cas dragged slowly, taking its sweet time.
     I had suggested we look at the warehouse where we fist found Cas, but it was a slim chance that he would be in the same place.
     Everything was silent expect for the rumble of the engine and the wind whooshing by. The sun had set by this point. It was almost completely dark except for a little light that clung to the horizon. I watched as the first stars rose into the sky.
     A million horrible scenarios rushed into my head, pushing away any hope. Cas would be injured beyond saving, he wouldn't be there, he would be dead.
     We came to a stop and I broke out of my trance. "Are we here?" My voice cracked. Sam nodded. "Yeah, we're here."
     I got out of the car and I almost collapsed, I was shaking so bad. I leaned against the side of the car, breathing deeply and trying to compose myself. I couldn't go in there a nervous wreck.
     "Dean? You okay?" Sam walked over with two guns and a pair of flashlights in his hands. I took a deep breath and took one of each from him. "No. Let's go."

***

     Our footsteps echoed loudly in the empty building. Our lights shine off the walls and glinted off bare metal shelves. We checked every room in the building, the last one we checked was the one where Cas was held captive all those months ago. The room was completely bare except for a few broken lights hanging from the ceiling and some feathers. I walked over and picked one up. Blood smeared my hand.
"Sam." My voice was shaking. He walked over to me and I showed him the feather.
"He was definitely here," Sam said. I swung my light around the room again, looking for anything I might have missed the first time. Something on the floor caught the light on the opposite side of the room. I walked over, wincing at how loud my footsteps were.
"Sam, c'mere." There was a trapdoor with silver handles blended into the floor. I pulled at the handles. Locked. I didn't expect it to open.
"Can you pick the lock, Sam?"
"Of course I can." He knelt by the door for a few minutes until I heard a click. He pulled the doors open, making the hinges creak. I shone my light down into the opening. There was a steep set of stairs that led into what looked like a tunnel.
I peered into the darkness and tried to make something out. Even with my light it was pointless. I took a deep breath and descended into the darkness, Sam right behind me.
We walked for ages, the only sound was our own breaths and our footsteps echoing off the walls. The tunnel was narrow, and at some points I had to duck because it dipped so low.
My phone rang suddenly making me jump out of my skin. I heard Sam hit his head on the ceiling. "Ow."
I pulled my phone out of my pocket. I didn't recognize the number, but I answered.
"Hello?" My voice seemed unnaturally loud after so much silence.
"You have one hour." It was a man's voice, it was rough like he had been yelling at the top of his lungs.
"Who is this?" I asked.
"You have one hour," the man repeated. "Or the angel dies." Click. The line went silent.