Chapter Text
It’s been two months since they’ve last seen Cas.
The angel often carries out his own business for extended periods of time, all while Sam and Dean are off hunting on their own. This was nothing out of the ordinary, nothing that the brothers noticed.
It’s been one month since they’ve last called Cas’ cell phone.
He sometimes forgets to charge it, and as far as Sam and Dean could logically assume- there was no service in Heaven. They thought nothing of it.
It’s been two weeks since their first text to him.
One and a half since their second and third.
Five days since their last.
One day since Sam and Dean got on the road to search for his phone’s GPS location.
The hunters just finished up a poltergeist job in South Carolina, and Dean took the initiative to make their next immediate mission finding their MIA friend.
The tracker let them know that the last known location of Cas’ phone was near an abandoned mine shaft in Tennessee, before it lost reception. It would be about a ten-hour drive overnight, with nap, bathroom, and food breaks factored in. They wasted no time getting on the road.
They arrived at the place of interest mid-day the next day, a field overgrown with tall grass and flowers, untouched by man in at least a decade. Sam brought a small duffel bag filled with various necessities, whatever he could manage to bring with him.
“Wonder what Cas was doing here,” Dean wondered, scoping out the mine entrance. It was wedged into a hill face and seemed huddled behind weeds, almost as if someone put them there on purpose.
“No idea,” Sam responded, stepping forward to unlatch the old wooden door. “One way to find out.”
“Yeah, well, just hoping he’s alive to tell the tale,” Dean mumbled, stepping down into the mine shaft and flicking on his flashlight, surveying the mouth of it. The cavernous hallway was damp enough for moss to grow in the walls, which is lined by a string of lights that must not have been turned on in years.
Sam hummed and followed after him. “I’m sure he was just searching for something,” he said, in an attempt to be reassuring.
“If he was looking for something, he wouldn’t take two months to do it.”
Sam shrugged, watching his footing on the wet rocks below him. “I’m sure he’s fine. Only another angels can kill him, and they’re not ones to hide their victims underground,” he pointed out, realizing quickly that wasn’t going to make his brother feel any better. That only means that this is, somehow, a unique case.
Dean sighed in acknowledgement and trudged onward, keeping quiet for the time being.
The hike down the shafts seemed never-ending, traveling on and on for at least an hour, if they were keeping track at all.
Sam stopped Dean with a tug on his shoulder, pointing out fresh footprints that have disturbed the moss on the ground. They were getting close to whatever lay ahead.
Dean equipped himself with Ruby’s knife, Sam with a shotgun. They listened closely for a minute for any movement further down the mine, only to hear the gentle drip of water from the stalactites. They pressed on.
It didn’t take much longer for them to find their friend.
“Cas!” Dean called out, as quietly as he could, and ran towards him. Cas was tied up against some support beams, color drained from his face.
Sam was more hesitant to join them, monitoring the area to make sure they were alone. Deeming the coast clear, he hurried over to take a look at the damage with Dean.
That is Cas alright, and Sam reached towards him to lay his fingers across his jugular.
“There’s a pulse, he’s alive,” Sam reported. He shone his flashlight further down the shaft at other bodies, thrown in a pile. “Can’t say the same for them.”
“Djinn. This is the work of a djinn,” Dean concluded, hitch in his voice. “Over there are the other victims… Cas must still be alive because he can’t die…”
“So the djinn is keeping him here to feed off of forever,” Sam added in agreement. “There’d be no need for the others if he’s got a lifetime supply right here.”
Dean’s jaw visibly tightened in the flashlight glow. “We gotta bring him back. Did you bring the leftover African Dream Root?” he asked, motioning to Sam’s duffel.
“I should have thrown some in along with other stuff,” Sam said, rummaging through his bag. A tense minute of searching later, he pulled out a small bag filled with the ingredient. “Got it. I also brought an assortment of blood since we didn’t know what the occasion would entitle, including lamb’s.”
“Thank God,” Dean breathed. “Alright, you go under and I’ll guard you guys. And I’ll kill that son of a bitch if it dare shows its ugly tattooed face.”
Sam nodded. As Dean went digging for the required blood vial, he went straight to work preparing the mixture with a half-empty water bottle they brought with them. He tugged out one of Cas’ hairs, swallowing hard when it fell out far too easily. Cas might be immortal, but the djinn’s poison was taking a toll on his vessel’s body regardless.
“Down the hatch,” Sam said, throwing back the liquid like a shot glass.
“Good luck,” Dean said.
The last thing Sam saw before falling asleep was his brother aggressively reloading the shotgun.