Saints or Sinners | {BOOK 3}

39| Hallucinating Cass

We had all piled into the Impala, an awkward silence hanging heavy in the air around us like a blanket.

"For the record- her name's Amelia," Sam piped up. "Amelia Richardson. She and I had a place together in Kermit, Texas."

"Look, guys, I don't even remember what I said, but, uh, I-" I started.

"But what?" Dean cut me off. "But you didn't mean it? Oh, please. We all know you didn't need a penny to say those things. Hell, Sam and I have our own share of beef we could drag up if we felt like it."

"So why don't you?"

"Because what's the point?"

I was silent, not knowing what else to say.

"Just you," Sam said.

"What?" Dean asked.

"You have your own beef to drag up, Dean. I know Ellie's not the only one who feels that way towards me. But you have to own up to your crap. I told you both from the jump where I was coming from, why I didn't look for you guys. But you two? You had secrets. You had Benny and whatever the hell else happened over there. And you got on your high and might, and have been kicking me ever since you got back. But that's over. So move on, or I will."

"Okay, I hear you," Dean nodded.

"Good," Sam nodded back. "You know what? Hear this, too. Ellie or I just might be that hunter that runs into Benny one day and ices him."

"I guess we'll cross that bridge when we come to it, won't we?"

"Yeah. Yeah, you keep saying that."

⁘

Dean and I were driving back to the cabin we were staying at with Sam, sharing a bag of potato chips. A man in a trench coat was walking along the side of the road, and as we passed him, I glanced out to look at him. It was Cass, sporting the beard and outfit he had during our time in Purgatory.

"Dean!" I cried.

He looked over his shoulder at Cass as well, slamming on the breaks. He glanced in the rearview mirror, reversing back down the road as I turned around in my seat. Leaving the Impala idling next to a sign for The Twin Pines Resort, we clambered out and looked around, but there was no sign Cass was ever on the road. We exchanged a look, both shocked. When we finally got to the cabin, Sam was sitting at a little table using his laptop and drinking a beer.

"Hey," he greeted us.

"Hey," I replied shakily.

Sam looked up at us. Dean was standing in the middle of the room holding a six-pack and a paper bag looking paler than normal. I was sure I looked similar.

"You two look like you've s- well, I was gonna say, 'You look like you've seen a ghost', but you both would probably be stoked. Uh, you okay?"

"Yeah, we're cool," Dean replied uncertainly. "What's up?"

"Well, this kid went missing from a preschool."

My heart clenched in my chest as I thought about the pain that the parents of the child must be feeling. I didn't have to imagine too hard, considering I hadn't seen my kids in over a year.

"That sucks," Dean said, voice emotionless. "And?"

I looked over at him like he was crazy as Sam continued.

"And at the same time he vanished, a surprise tornado hit, lasted maybe 20 seconds, then, uh... shazam! Back to perfect weather."

"Hm. And they pooh-pooh climate change."

"Yeah," Sam chuckled.

I went over to look at the laptop over Sam's shoulder while Dean moved to put the beer away in the fridge.

"Well, similar wackiness has happened over the past few weeks in other places- uh, Tulsa, a bus driver vanishes and a river gets overrun with frogs. New Mexico- a mailman disappears, the earth splits open."

Sam pulled up the articles as he listed them for me to see.

"Alright. So, uh, you thinking demons?" I asked, aware of Dean coming over to also get a look at the screen.

"Yeah, possibly, but... I mean, this stuff was major," Sam replied. "These folks have nothing in common- no religious affiliations, different hometowns, all ages. Why would demons want them?"

"Why do demons want anything?" Dean countered.

Feeling claustrophobic sandwiched between the two brothers, I maneuvered myself so I was standing on the opposite side of the table. Sam gave me a look, then glanced at Dean, but Dean barely reacted to the movement, instead, slapping Sam lightly on the shoulder.

"Uh, so, we on this?"

"Yeah," Sam nodded, shutting the laptop.

⁘

Mrs. Hager, the woman who had been with the kid, Aaron Webber, when he disappeared, wasn't possessed when we talked to her, but based off the answers she gave us to our questions, it was definitely demons who took him. That night, Dean and I couldn't sleep while Sam had knocked out practically as soon as his head hit the pillow. Dean was currently doing some more research on the missing persons on Sam's laptop, sitting on the other bed while I was grabbing a drink from the fridge. Outside, lightning flashed and I glanced over to see Cass standing outside the window.

"Dean," I hissed.

He glanced up at me, then followed my gaze. He shut the laptop, moving over to window, but like before in the street, the angel had vanished. Dean glanced back at me worriedly as Sam stirred in bed, sitting up.

"Guys?" he asked sleepily. "What's going on? Are you alright?"

"I don't know," Dean shrugged, looking back out the window. "We just saw something."

"Uh, you saw what?" Sam asked, joining Dean by the window.

"Cass," I whispered.

"Cass?" Sam repeated. "Where?"

"Right there," Dean gestured to the window. "And- and- and earlier, on the road. We keep seeing him."

I moved closer to them, eyes trained on the dark, rain-soaked window, just waiting to see if Cass would appear again.

"That's... not possible," Sam said slowly. "I mean, you said it yourself. You guys made it out and he didn't, right?"

"I tried so hard to get us the hell out of there," Dean muttered, retreating into his own head.

He turned away from the window, walking a few steps away. I chewed my lip, refusing to look at him. We had both tried so hard. And really, it was more my fault Cass got left behind than Dean's. While he was getting everything situated to give Benny a ride, I had been the one to try and pull Cass along through the portal.

"Dean," Sam said, walking over to him. "You did everything you could."

"Yeah, but why do I feel like crap?"

"Survivor's guilt?"

"Hmm," Dean hummed, not quite convinced.

"If you let it, this is gonna keep messing with both of you. You got to walk past it."

Sam clapped Dean on the shoulder and slipped into the bathroom. Dean and I exchanged a look, both thinking about our last moments in Purgatory.