Chapter Four

wc: 2016

CK Laser Tag (Courtland, KS); 11:59 AM

  Laser tag. He took me to a laser tag place. And to be honest, I'm absolutely ecstatic. I haven't been to one of these places in a few years, when I was practicing to shoot real things, like monsters. It sounds dumb to say it, but now, I'm 23 and I haven't been near one since I was about 18.

  It only took about 40 minutes to get here, and we stopped at a Gas n' Sip a while back to get snacks, which I think were actually for lunch. Sam literally bought an apple, a banana, and a coffee, while I got fruit snacks and my favorite drink.

  Right now, we're sitting in the parking lot, trying to figure out if the place is even open. It's Monday, so I have no idea. I'm sitting in the passenger seat, so Sam has to look past me to even see the building. He decides to just go up and check, so I stay in the car, watching him walk up to the place. The outside isn't decorated whatsoever, it's just a big, gray concrete building. I know that that's not the case inside, though. I've never been to this specific place, because I haven't lived in Kansas for too long, but with these it's always that the outside is boring and the inside is like a unicorn was subjected to radiation and then proceeded to throw up everywhere. It's just neon, all around. Everywhere you look.

  I look back to Sam, and he's gesturing at me to come meet him at the door. I grab my lanyard, complete with keys, and hop out of the car. I almost get run over before I make it to the door, but when I do make it, Sam holds the door open and we both take a step inside. It's just like I said it would be, and the floors remind me of an old arcade. It all just gives me the purest sense of nostalgia. We go over to the counter and register, and after about 10 minutes, we're led inside a room. Sam and I sit in the corner while kids pour in. And it hits me. We're going to be playing with a bunch of 12-year-olds. Which means we'll be 97% susceptible to winning. 

  It's funny how tall Sam is compared to all the kids in the room, and I find myself literally laughing out loud about it. He's just a giant, man. The Proteus case is out of my mind the entire time we're there.

  Kids are fast. And small. They can duck behind things, and that's something that Sam can't do here. I can, for the most part, but Sam has absolutely no chance. He's been standing in front of me and sort of protecting me, but he knows I don't need it. We have amazing aim, and every kid in our sight is pinged almost immediately. I can tell that they're scared of us. Probably because we're grown-ups, and I can't help but think, man. They play this game for fun. They have no idea why I used to do this. And that brings me down a little, until I'm snapped right back in when some 5-year-old tags me from behind.

  At the end of the game, we go to see the scoreboard, and it's just like I thought it would be.

  We crushed those kids.

  Three games, and we dominated in all of them.

The Coven Cafe (Outskirts of Lebanon, KS); 1:07 PM

  We skipped out on lunch earlier, so I decided that we should visit my absolute favorite place ever. Well, I've been here for a short while, but restaurants are my thing. Scouting out good ones is just something I do to pass the time, and when I found this place, I immediately fell in love. The locals just call it "The Coven," and, simply put, it's awesome. Sam was definitely skeptical at first when I mentioned the name, which makes a lot of sense, but there aren't any real witches working there. And all the decorations are made of plastic.

  It's sort of weird, but they have a counter you order at and then just take your stuff back to your seat instead of having waiters or waitresses. I mean, it's different. When we were at the counter ordering, I was talking to this really cute barista. They said that they were a satanist (don't know how that came up in the conversation), but I was practically bouncing up and down out of excitement. I was a satanist myself back in high school, before discovering hunting. Before I even knew about magic. I thanked them when they handed us our food (Sam got a bagel and a coffee, and I got a Nutella crepe and a cup of hot tea), and Sam and I took a seat near the front windows of the cafe.

  "Did I hear the correctly? A satanist?" Oh. Right. He didn't know about what it was, and I was talking openly about it right in front of him. I set my drink and my food on the table, settling into my chair.

  "I was a satanist in high school, but listen up. Satanists do not worship Satan. Satanists are atheists that don't subscribe to religion, they believe in science and the worshiping of themselves, not any god," I watch him for a second, and he gives me a weird look. "It's not a cult either."

  All he does is nod his head and pick up his bagel. I look around the cafe, because clearly he doesn't want to talk to me. There's a brick fireplace on the far left side of the room (is that legal?) and on the hearth is a ritual cloth or something. A small cauldron is on top of it, filled with herbs that look like rosemary and lavender sprigs. The chairs are made of some kind of painted-black wood, and so are the tables. I can imagine the kind of hate a place like this can get, from Christians and just a lot of people in general.

  I finish my crepe, drink the rest of my tea, and pull out my phone from my back pocket. I haven't been on it all day, and I see that I got a text from Cas right when I open my messages. It reads, "Dean and I had a quarrel. He left the bunker, and I am now alone. I thought I would let you know." The way he texts is so formal, and I guess that's what he's like in real life. 

  "Cas texted. Him and Dean got into some sort of fight, I think? He said that Dean left the bunker and that he's alone there now. Well... that's not what we wanted to happen. Kind of the opposite, actually." I start typing my response back.

  "Hey, maybe next time it'll work out. Or we'll just have to get them in the same room to talk about it," He hesitates. "We should head back then."

  "Sure. I want to hang out with Cas, anyway. We never get to talk anymore."

  We leave our dishes on the table, and I wave to the barista as we head out.

The Bunker (Lebanon, KS); 1:52 PM

  We park in the garage, which is surprising that we even can, since there are so many cars in there. My car is in there. And there are tons or motorcycles which I honestly want to ride so badly.

  I rush out of the car and down the stairs, down into the main room. From there, I catch a glimpse of the library. Oh god, I think.

  Slowly, I step into the arch, entering the library. The books from every shelf have flown off, or been knocked off. The tables and chairs and still in order, still standing, and the only thing really wrong is that there are books everywhere. Small ones as well as huge ones, new ones and ancient ones. Strewn all over the ground. A certain trench coat catches my eye.

  Cas is in the corner, sitting on the edge of one of my bean bag chairs. He's hugging his knees close to his chest and gently rocking back and forth.

  I swiftly go towards him, avoiding the mess all over. I sit across from him, resembling how Sam and I were sitting just earlier today. He doesn't look okay, not in the slightest, and I hate that I haven't been checking up on him. I hate that Dean acts like he doesn't care about him when he's around.

"Cas?" I place my hand on his shoulder, and he looks up at me. There are tears in his eyes. I never knew that angels could cry. I never thought that one ever would.

"Sparrow. Hello." He sniffs and proceeds to wipe his eyes with the sleeve of his coat. I search his eyes with a small hint of worry on my face.

"Can you tell me what happened? There are books everywhere." I say softly. 

"It was nothing. Just- I took a heavy step. It sounds foolish, but I was mad. And I sort of accidentally.. stomped. It was an angry stomp. And everything came flying at me from off the shelves." He lets go of his knees and lays back, looking at the ceiling.

"It's okay, Cas," He glances over at me nervously. "Seriously. We'll get this cleaned up, don't worry. I can talk to Dean for you if you want. I was going to talk to him anyway," I ruffle his hair, and he looks away for a second. "Hey."

"Yes. Thank you."

"Do you want to talk about what you guys were arguing over?"

"No."

  Sam hesitantly walks in, looking shocked as he takes in what happened in the room. I spot him and hastily gesture for him to leave so that I can keep talking to Cas. He takes the hint and goes, but I can tell he's really confused, but I know I'll fill him in later.

2:01 PM

  Cas and I have just been sitting in silence for a few minutes, until I hear the familiar roar of the impala's engine outside, followed by the opening and closing of the bunker's door. I get up and tell Cas to stay there while I go to stand in the library's doorway. Dean's just come through the door, and he walks down the steps. I stand my ground as he comes up to me.

  Clearly, he hasn't seen the library after he left, and he sees it through my arms, which are blocking him from entering. I'm not hiding the room, I'm hiding the person in it. I'm just so mad, and fed up, with how Dean treats Cas.

  I shoot him an accusing look, which is hard as he's only about two feet away.

"Where were you? Don't answer that, actually. We need to talk," I say, trying to keep my calm. He looks behind me into the library and sees Cas in the back. He tries to push past me, but I shove him back. "No, don't talk to Cas unless you're apologizing to him."

"You don't know what you're talking about, Row. Nothing happened." He says defensively, and I feel like this is going to turn into a fight. At this point, I don't care. A serious talk is due, and if it comes in the form of a fight, fine.

"Oh? Because Cas was crying. Did you know angels could cry? I didn't. I didn't think it was possible, but you made it happen. I may not know what you two were fighting about, but I feel personally responsible for Cas. We just need to talk, okay?" He takes a step back and evaluates me. Eventually he just comes to the decision that I'm right, and that we should talk.

  He heads to his room, which I interpret as an invitation to follow, and I do.

Author's Note

grammar corrections welcome; sometimes formatting problems arise due to this specific platform