Salt of the earth chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: I don't own any Supernatural characters, although I will take credit for my own amazing characters and their brilliant interactions with Dean and Sam. No dough will be made from these guys, much to my chagrin.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: A HUGE thank you to my awesome Beta and new friend, cmsserenity, and my Artist, amber1960—you guys are rockstars!

THE SALT OF THE EARTH

Sam dropped off Dean 15 minutes prior to the time and place where Cas had requested the elder Winchester to meet him. He wanted to scout things out and get the lay of the land for areas to use to his advantage or plan an escape route, if that became necessary. It was at the edge of what appeared to be a large farm or a sprawling ranch, just outside of the pasture alongside a split rail fence and cow path. High, uncut grass grew along the way and continued into the small field alongside the road. Large, old, trees bare of leaves scattered the landscape and widened the variety of ways to defend, fight or make a run for it. There were plenty of places to hide—for Dean, Sam and the Impala. Cas seemed a little 'out of sorts' lately (more so than normal) and neither brother knew what it was about. This, of course, contributed to the brothers' suspicions of unfair play, but after some discussion, they agreed that they would investigate.

Dean wasn't sure what to expect from any angle. He just knew he needed to be there to help his friend.

Cas had asked respectfully if Dean could come himself, and assured both that it was not out of lack of trust. That was two days ago. He appeared to them in New Orleans after a particularly difficult hunt, and neither Dean nor Sam had slept much at all before heading to Texas. They picked up and traveled as per Cas' directions, wondering what case they would be working on and what Cas had gotten himself into. Sam would wait on standby at the bed and breakfast in town to get the scoop on the angel and his need for Dean's assistance. He and Dean had agreed that if Dean wasn't back by nightfall, Sam would come, armed to the teeth.

Their trust in Cas had returned for the most part, but they always were aware that he had other priorities and duties to see through and some of them were, for lack of a better phrase, not above the table. Even though there was a shakeup in Heaven, and they were in the midst of a Civil War Reconstruction of their own, the angels still fought amongst themselves for power and position. Dean wasn't sure where Cas fit in with all this and the "New Heaven." He wasn't talking. So, knowing this, they made arrangements prior to any solo activity to meet with each other, debrief, and rescue if needed.

The brothers' trust in each other was deep and rejuvenated. Each knew that no one in the world loved the other more. They'd still argue and get frustrated with each other, prank each other, and fight, but they knew, in the end, all they had was each other. Sam was worried and told Dean about it. Ever since Dean had expressed the desire to die "with a gun in my hand," Sam wanted to ensure this didn't happen, that Dean knew how much he meant to Sam, and that he deserved to die as an old man, warm in bed, surrounded by his grandchildren, just like Dean thought Sam did. Dean needed to see that he wasn't some kind of "berserker" that wrought his own destruction; that he was smart, valuable, and still had a lot to contribute to the world beyond saving the whole thing from time to time. Truth being said, Sam still felt some guilt for not looking for Dean more aggressively when he was in purgatory, and would spend a significant time proving to Dean that his absence was a dreadful mistake that he would never, ever, make again. So, Sam sat on the edge of the bed, ready to spring as soon as he was needed, or the sun fell.

Dean stood on the cow path, waiting, senses becoming more and more heightened as time passed. It was now 15 minutes beyond when Cas asked him to be there. He appeared, looking panicked and panting, holding a glowing orb in his right hand. Dean's eye's widened as Cas stepped close.

"I need you to hide something for me," he said, looking Dean in the eye.

Before Dean could protest or ask questions, Cas moved swiftly with the orb towards Dean's abdomen, right under his navel, and pushed.

SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN

Sam's stomach rolled when he caught sight of a human heap by the side of the path where Dean indicated he needed to meet Cas. He'd gotten more and more panicked when he'd tried to call a few times and his brother didn't answer, but agreed to abide by their agreement and wait until sundown to look for him.

"Dean!" Sam yelled, running over to him. He was regretting their latest 'non-agreement' already. He rolled his brother over onto his back. He was breathing, thank God, and as Sam shook him, his eyes started rolling around in their sockets, and he woke. "Hey! You okay?"

It took a second for Dean to gather his wits enough to answer, do a mental exam and reply. "Yeah, I think so. Get offa me."

Sam stood back and Dean slowly rose to his feet, and then nearly collapsed again. Damn, he was dizzy. Sam grabbed his arm firmly to help him gain his balance, concern growing in his eyes, as well as questioning, "What the fuck happened? Where's Cas?"

Dean's eyes widened and he blinked, still allowing Sam to keep hold of him, and in fact, found himself holding onto his brother in return.

"I'm not sure. I only saw him for like, four seconds. He-he said he needed me to hide something for him, and then he jammed something into me. It was glowing."

"What do you mean, 'jammed something' into you? Where?"

Dean lowered his brows and looked at his brother. "Maybe that was poor wording. Help me back to the car and I'll explain at the B 'n' B."

He grabbed onto Sam again as they turned around. The younger Winchester's concern grew, as Dean would rarely let himself be assisted anywhere, even if he was bleeding from the eyes. Okay, maybe that was an exaggeration, but Dean's grip on his arm scared him.

They made their way through the patch of high weeds and grass back to the Impala, and Sam opened the passenger side door for his brother. Dean didn't raise a fuss or bitch. He just sat down and put his head against the rest and closed his eyes. Again, a sign Sam didn't like. He needed to know what happened and what they were up against, if anything.

He parked as close to the B&B as possible and again helped his listless brother inside and up to their room. Dean made a straight shot to his bed and collapsed into it, not even bothering to remove his boots or his dew- and mud-stained over shirt. Sam took these things off gently, and then urged his semi-conscious brother to get under the covers. Dean didn't seem to be in any pain and he wasn't bleeding, but Sam agreed that at least through the night, he would maintain watch over his brother for any signs of Post-Angel Syndrome his brother may manifest, at least until he got the story.

It was two full days until Dean awoke.

SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN

He opened his eyes slowly and surveyed the room. Sam was sitting up in the adjacent bed and leaning against the headboard, softly snoring. His faithful computer sat on his lap. God knows how long he had been researching.

Dean rolled over to his side and sighed. The four seconds he had met with Cas were coming back to him. He remembered not being able to move or raise his arms in protest, and the intense pain and pressure he'd felt in his lower abdomen when Cas forced whatever that wasinside him. Then, he remembered losing every sense except his hearing, then, it disappeared, too. He took a deep breath again and laid there for a moment until he felt the contents of his stomach rising up his esophagus and he bolted for the bathroom.

This, of course, roused Sam from his rest, and he jumped out of bed to follow his brother.

"Dean?"

He stopped beside his brother by the sink and filled up a glass of water. "Here," he said, "You okay?"

"Do I look okay, Sam? Really?" Dean said gruffly, still anchoring himself to the toilet by one hand. He used his free hand to take the sip of water, gave it back to Sam, and wiped his face. "Gawd, I hate puking." He waved his hand in the air until he caught hold of his brother, and stood up. "I didn't even drink!"

Sam looked directly at him. "What's going on?"

Dean met his eyes for a moment, then pushed by him to return to his bed. "I dunno," he started. "First thing I know is that he shows up with this glowy thingy in his hand—God, he looked like he was rode hard and put away wet—and then he says I need to hide something for him and shoves the glowy thingy into my stomach. It hurt. End of story."

"Then you pass out until I come to get you, sleep for two days and puke when you get up." Sam sat on his bed opposite his brother, studying him intently.

"Two days?"

"Yeah. And you didn't even move."

"Did you try to call him?"

"Yeah. Since I got you here. No answer."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Angel radio must be down again."

"Or not. And he can't."

"So what'll we do?"

Sam stood up and paced for a short time. "Park it here until we hear from him? I dunno. Research. Figure out what he's hiding and who from."

Dean scowled. "I want my room."

"Are there any marks on you?"

Dean lifted his shirt. His stomach looked unscathed. "No. Nothing. I just feel like I haven't pooped for awhile."

"TMI, Dean. Maybe you should indulge in a salad or two every now and then, you know, like you told Kevin? Quit hitting up the cheese. Dare I ask if you want something to eat?" Sam asked glancing at his brother and putting on his shoes.

"I guess. Whatever. I'm gonna lay down again."

"You just woke up."

"Yeah, I know. Maybe I'm coming down with something. Maybe it doesn't have anything to do with Cas."

Sam looked at his brother before opening the door. "I doubt it. Nothing coincidental happens with us."