The Soul Burns Brighter Than The Sun

Chapter 9: Peanut Butter & Ashes

Dean snorts. "Oh, is that what we're calling it?"

Cas blinks, affronted. "Do you have any better ideas? I rather liked my title for it."

Eileen giggles. " Book of The Cursed, I think it's perfect, Cas."

Cas nods. "Thank you, Eileen."

The four of them head back inside the warehouse. It's almost late morning by this point, and Dean's dragging. While Sam and Eileen slept, Dean spent a good amount of time getting tortured by Joan, and Cas doesn't need sleep, so the rest of them are good to go.

Dean though, his eyes feel bloodshot as he scans a dark backroom of the warehouse with his flashlight, looking in every little crevice, behind every piece of rusty conveyor machinery. The warehouse is just as dark as before, apparently, the main room Joan held them in was the only one with power, so they're forced to use flashlights through most of it.

They all split up to search back rooms and hallways, but come together in a storage room, which seems a likely place as any for an occult book to be stored. Instead, though, there's just dirt everywhere, strange for being inside.

Dean stoops down to the floor, the dirt covers everything in the room, but it's especially all over the floor, and Dean sees Cas's shoes come next to him. Sam grabs a napkin from his pocket and swipes it across a tabletop, showing it to Eileen.

"Ashes?" She questions. "Or dirt?"

Sam shrugs and keeps moving further into the room. Dusting off more shelves and table tops.

Dean stands walking over to a series of shelves that hold boxes of shit, files, and books. He swipes two fingers through the layer of dust, holding the dirt on his fingers up to his flashlight. Cas stands closeby, his shoulder brushing Dean. Cas copies him, swiping his fingers through the dust, but then, he holds those fingers to his nose, sniffing them.

Dean cringes inwardly. He opens his mouth to tell Cas to stop smelling the dust, but then Cas's pink tongue darts out and licks the dirt from his fingers, tasting it.

"Dude, gross." Dean cringes.

Cas though, perks up. "Oh. It's the victims. At least several different men and women."

Dean gags, bending over at the waist, except there's nothing to upchuck because he hasn't eaten in at least ten hours.

"You just ate human ashes?" Dean recoils, stepping all the way back.

"No," Cas explains simply. "I tasted them. I did not consume them."

There's shivers all over Dean's body, and he retreats away from Cas, "You are so fucking gross. I cannot believe I was making out with you fifteen minutes ago–"

Dean whips around, but across the room, Sam's so preoccupied with his own search that he doesn't notice Dean putting his foot in his mouth.

"Allow me to remind you that you were a vampire once."

"Hey! That is completely different."

Cas rolls his eyes. "I will wash my mouth out with soap if it makes you happy."

Dean fixes him with a glare. "Shut up." He turns on his heel and storms off.

They search for another hour, but dead on his feet, Dean leans against a clean wall and nods off for a little bit. He's not in his twenties, or even his thirties anymore, and damn, he's tired. Having your gay, little secret almost escape twice in an hour and getting tortured takes a lot out of a guy.