Other Halves

When everything was packed and ready to go, the three of them piled into the Impala. Dean driving (of course), Sam in the passenger seat, and Cas seated quietly in the back. The air was obnoxiously silent, so Dean broke the calm, “Hey, Cas. Can you hand me a tape from back there?”

“Of course.” Cas reached to the right side of the seat towards the huge box and began rummaging through the cassette tapes, “What would you like to listen to?” Dean peered into the rearview mirror to see Cas squinting into the box, probably trying to decipher what Dean would or wouldn’t like to hear.

Dean chuckled fondly as he saw the gears start turning in Cas’ head, “I don’t know, man. Just pick something.”

Sam’s eyes went wide at that; Dean didn’t normally let other people pick the music. ‘Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole,’ after all.

Cas continued to rummage through the box when apparently something caught his eye, “Oh! I’ve heard about this man. They used to call him ‘the King’ I believe, but I’ve never actually heard his music… Dean, do you mind if we play this one?”

Dean’s face went pale, “Uh… Elvis? You found Elvis back there?” Sam chuckled, ignoring Dean’s glare.

“Yes. Do you mind if we play it?” Cas tilted his head in question.

Dean glanced into the rearview mirror, seeing Cas’ hopeful expression. Although he was hesitant, he agreed, “Sure, I guess. Pass it up.”

He took the tape from Cas’ hand, fingers brushing. He quickly pulled away and shoved it in the console, “This is a one-time deal, got it?”

Cas smiled and nodded, entranced as the Impala was filled with Elvis’ talented voice singing ‘Devil in Disguise.’

******

Baby roared into the motel parking lot, which was located just on the edge of Lebanon. Dean cut the engine, swinging his door open and stepping out on wobbly legs, “Dude, I don’t know how long we’ve been drivin’, but my legs are killin’ me.”

Sam made his way to the motel door, Cas not far behind, and called out, “Come on, Dean! It was only, like, half an hour!” Cas caught up to Sam’s side, correcting his mathematical calculations, “Sam, it was 32 minutes and 55 seconds since we left the bunker’s driveway.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Sam said, waving his hand in a noncommittal gesture, “Thanks Cas.” He jammed the motel key into the slot, turning the knob and entering the less than desirable room, “Alright, Cas. You can just chill for now, me and Dean will bring in the duffels and cooler.”

Cas nodded in reply and made his way to the bed closest to the wall, away from the door. He slowly shucked his trench coat off, gently placing it on the edge of the bed. Then, took off his black suit coat, draping that alongside the trench, and began to undo his blue tie when he heard a soft gasp come from the door. He turned around to see Dean standing stock-still in the doorway, holding his duffel in one hand and his set of keys in the other, “Dean… are you alright?”

Broken out of his daze, but still looking shocked he silently nodded and cautiously walked over to the foot of the bed were Cas was standing. He dropped his keys on the nightstand and his duffel on the floor beside it, looking a bit lost after he had done so. Cas looked over at Dean, still seeing his tense shoulders and wide eyes, “Dean… are you sure you’re alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Dean nodded once again, determined to not any emotions show, “Yeah, Cas…. I’m good. I just…” He began uncharacteristically fidgeting, leaning on one foot then the other.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he forced himself to play it cool, “Yeah, it was just a long drive… and man am I tired! Whew! No ghost sightings here… well, not yet anyway… ha!” Failing miserably at his attempt to seem unaffected, he made matters worse by nervously rubbing the back of his neck whilst avoiding Cas’ stare.

Cas still seemed skeptical, so he gave up. Simply because Dean is a force to be reckoned with when he’s determined to hide something, “Well… alright… Oh, and Dean… might I ask, but what will be the sleeping arrangements? I see that there are only two beds and, well, there are three of us.” He was gazing at Dean with those incredible ocean-blue eyes, looking serious as ever when he continued his rambling, “I could possibly take the couch if that is easiest for you and Sam, but I am not sure how desirable the cushions are…” His thoughts trailed off when Sam stood in the doorway, clearing his throat.

“Guys. Nobody. And I mean nobody should have to sleep on that piece of junk they call a couch. Cas, you’ll share Dean’s bed. I don’t think you’ll appreciate my ‘moose limbs’ as Dean calls them.” Sam chuckled and walked over to the dining table, setting the cooler on the floor beside it. Then proceeding to his claimed bed closest to the door, dropping his duffel adjacent to Dean’s between the two beds.

He looked over at Dean and Cas, only seeing what he sees practically every time he looks at them. Cas was staring at Dean with a questioning glint in his eye, most likely seeing if the sleeping arrangements were alright. And Dean was looking at Cas wide-eyed, almost panicking like a friggin’ five-year-old just over sharing a bed.

There was an elephant in the room called “sexual tension” and it was becoming suffocating. Sam rolled his eyes and plopped down on his bed, internally laughing at his emotionally constipated big brother.

******

The three men took a couple hours’ break before resuming their newly acquired case. Sam was currently rummaging through his duffel, taking his precious laptop out whilst Dean and Cas were quietly talking about nothing in particular at the dining table.

Sam walked over to join his brother and best friend at the table, laptop in hand, “Hey, guys. I think we’ve had enough down time for now… how about some research? We should probably figure out what we’re dealing with.”

He looked up at the other two to see Cas nodding his head and Dean with a pained look on his face, head thrown back with exasperation, “Ughhh…. alright. You start the research, Sammy, and me and Cas’ll go pick up a couple’a six-packs.”

Dean started to stand when Sam pointed out in his petulant younger brother way, “Sure, Dean. Leave all the leg work to me. Nothing new.”

Working his way out of the chair, Dean reached to grab his keys off the nightstand, “Hey! I’m doing us a favor here. You don’t wanna be left with all this work and no alcohol. It’s not right! Live a little, Sam!” He started walking towards the door, calling back, “Come on, Cas! We don’t have all day! Sammy here is getting his panties in a bunch.”

Cas slowly rose to his feet, shooting a concerned glance to the younger Winchester. Sam just jerked his head in Dean’s direction in reply.

Nodding his understanding, Cas walked to the door and carefully shut it without making a sound. He joined Dean in the Impala, sitting in the passenger seat. Dean put the keys in the ignition, starting his beloved car. He reached into the backseat, blindly pulling out his favorite AC/DC cassette tape and jamming it into the console.

As the rumble of Baby’s engine signaled their departure, Sam shook his head and resumed his search for information on the case. The fading echo of the Impala and the sound of Sam’s fast fingers hitting the keyboard were the only things occupying the silent atmosphere of the motel.

******

Yawning, Sam absently checked the time on the motel nightstand and realized Dean and Cas had been gone for a while. Much longer than it takes for a simple beer run. He shrugged, they’d probably be back soon enough. Looking back at all the information he had collected while they were gone, Sam felt like he had done well… despite having done all the work himself.

He was clicking through all the tabs of articles he found when he heard keys unlock the motel door. Swiveling around in his chair, Sam saw Dean and Cas make their way into the room, “Wow. It took you guys long enough. What the hell were you doing?” Cas walked over to the bed, plopping down on the old mattress and Dean made his way to the dining area.

Dean shrugged at Sam’s unimpressed face and shoved the cases of beers in the fridge, “Dude, chill. We just went to the bar. And before you say, ‘Dean. You left me here to do all the work while you guys went out drinking?!’ Don’t even start. Me and Cas were actually doin’ some work, if you can believe it.”

Cas was sitting on he and Dean’s shared bed when he spoke up, “Dean’s right, Sam. We went to the local bar called Vinny’s, it was quite a nice establishment actually. Lovely décor…“

“Okay, Cas. The place was nice. Get to the point.” Dean rolled his eyes at the other man and sat beside him on the bed.

“Right. Well, we went to Vinny’s because Dean said he wanted to grab a drink and scope out the locals, but we saw the mother of the missing children there. She was one of the bartenders.” Cas now had both legs on the bed Indian style, left knee brushing against Dean’s thigh, “When we went up to her to get some more information, she agreed to tell us what she knew. So, Sam, like Dean said… we were actually working.”

Sam nodded his head in defeat, “Okay… Sorry guys… I’m just tired. But, I did find some pretty interesting information regarding witches and a possible explanation for the cat. It’s all Medieval Age stuff so I don’t know how accurate it is… anyways, tell me what the mother said at the bar. Anything useful?”

Dean nodded his head, “Well, we asked her if she noticed anything unusual before her children’s disappearance and she said other than the smoke and the cat… nothing.”

“But, she did say that when she got home from the store, the vase that was on their foyer table was on the ground… smashed. She asked the kids if they did it and they said that the dog did. She didn’t believe them so she sent them outside to play while she cleaned it up. Then she sat outside for a bit, her phone rang, and you guys know the rest. Doesn’t really seem useful though… just normal family stuff.”

Sam agreed, “Yeah. So, nothing else? Flickering lights? Strange bags? Anything?”

Cas nodded his head, then reached over to put his hand on Dean’s thigh. Unaware of the man tensing up beside him, “Dean, didn’t she say that there was a mailwoman who walked by before she went in? She said she seemed suspicious, but overlooked it at the time.”

Cas’ hand was still set on his friend and when he glanced over, Dean quickly stood up and practically ran to the fridge. He opened it and grabbed a beer, popping the top off and taking a long swig before replying to Cas’ observation, “Yeah… that’s right. But don’t you think that’s normal too? I mean, a mailwoman in a suburban neighborhood? Nothin’ really suspicious about that.”

Dean chanced a glance at Cas, who looked startled by Dean’s sudden change in mood, “Yes, it sounds normal… but, Dean, she said the mailwoman was not actually carrying any mail nor driving a mail truck. She was just walking around the neighborhood. Does that not strike you as suspicious?”

Instead of joining Cas on the bed he made his way to the dining table, taking a seat there, “Sure, I guess. So, do ya think this mailwoman is our main suspect? How do we even track down what company she’s from? She could be from anywhere… FedEx… UPS… I don’t friggin’ know!” Dean overdramatically slammed his beer bottle on the table, emphasizing his point.

Watching the whole exchange, Sam thought that they fought like an old married couple. He interrupted the slightly awkward silence by trying to be at least somewhat helpful, “Guys, we can deal with tracking her down tomorrow. Right now, we need to look through what’s what and figure out who this woman is, if she really is our suspect.”

Sam glanced over at Dean sitting beside him at the dining table, seeing a silent nod, “Yeah, okay. What did ya find out on that nerd contraption of yours?” Dean vaguely pointed to Sam’s laptop then gulped down another swig of beer.

Gathering his thoughts, Sam brought up the article with the most useful information, “So get this. The article here says, ‘In some traditions of modern Paganism, including the various Wiccan paths, the concept of an animal familiar is incorporated into practice. Today, a familiar is often defined as an animal with whom we have a magical connection, but in truth, the concept is a bit more complex than this.’ So, that could explain the cat. Because it also says that ‘the most common species of animal that the witch’s familiar could inhabit is a cat, especially black ones; however, they are not limited to felines. Other common forms can include a frog, dog, or any other being in the animal kingdom that reflects the personality of their superior being.”

“Sometimes though, a familiar can be forced upon another by someone, or something, with very strong magical abilities… and these forced bonds have been believed to have evil intent. These forced bonds can be broken if, and only if, the physical connection is severed by a stronger one. That stronger connection has been rumored to be a ‘true other half,’ or rather a reflection of each other that is so close, so tangible, that each of their beings gravitate to one another.” Sam paused, quite likely for dramatic effect.

“That being said, a familiar with a mutual, physical connection with their being can be seen as a guide. Many believe that these ‘other halves’ are able to sense the good or evil within a person. If they believe that another person, or being, permits a threat towards their superior, they may take any means possible to discard of the threat. But, there have been recordings in the past where a witch’s familiar has confused an ordinary decision, such as lying, as evil intent. Therefore, although familiar guides can be useful, they can also can cause unsuspecting harm to innocent people… so could that explain why the kids were taken? They lied to their mom about breaking the vase?” Sam shifted in his seat, glancing up to see if he still has the other men’s attention.

Dean nodded his head, agreeing, “Yeah, probably right… little monsters.”

Sam chuckled and looked back at his laptop, scrolling down the page a bit, “But, get this… it says here that ‘in some Scandinavian countries, familiars were associated with spirits of the land and nature. Fairies, dwarves, and other elemental beings were believed to inhabit the physical bodies of animals. But, once the Christian church came along, this practice went underground -- because any spirit other than an angel must be a demon.’ So, maybe the witch was working with evil fairies or something like that? Because, I mean, the orange and grey smoke doesn’t usually happen with normal witchcraft. It’s usually a hex bag or something… and I find it hard to believe that a demon, angel, or anything else could be behind all of this.”

When Sam looked over at Dean, he was amused to see his brother beginning to look bored, despite his interest in for the case, “Okay… yeah, I guess that makes sense. So… what? Are we sayin’ that there’s a rogue witch on the loose workin’ with fairies? Seems a bit far-fetched to me… evil fairies? Come on, Sam….” Dean paused, then glanced over at his angel, “What do you think Cas?”

Cas looked thoughtful for a moment, taking in all the new information, “Well, I suppose the situation is plausible. Not all witches believe what the rest of their coven does… I think that the cat the mother saw was most likely a faerie, maybe even an evil one… considering the vicious behavior of it as well as the smoke. And looking at the situation as a whole… I believe that there is something much bigger going on than just one evil witch and her familiar.” He looked to the table, where the brothers sat, seeing two nods in agreement.

Dean stood up, beer in hand, and walked over to the bed. He dramatically yawned whilst flopping down on his side of the mattress, “Alright, sounds good to me. I don’t know ‘bout you guys, but I’m ready to hit the hay. This sounds like tomorrow’s job.”

Sam nodded in agreement, “Yeah I was thinking the same thing. We’ll head out tomorrow morning and see if we can track down this witch.”

******

The next morning, the sun shone through the motel’s windows, slanting through the gap in the curtains giving the room a warm glow to start the day. All three men were sound asleep, Sam in his bed and Dean and Cas in the other, when Sam’s alarm began blaring Heat of the Moment.

As if in unison, they all jumped up in a panic as Asia’s classic song continued to play on the loudest volume setting. Sam hurriedly reached to the nightstand, grabbed his phone, and practically punched the ‘snooze’ button. He swung his long legs over the side of the bed muttering a quiet, “Sorry…” to Dean and Cas before digging into his duffel to find some clothes.

While Sam was preoccupied with picking the right flannel for the day, Cas groaned and slammed his head back onto his pillow. Dean chuckled, throwing his legs off of the bed and headed to the bathroom to start his morning ritual.

Cas heard the shower start up, letting him know that it would be a while before he would get to use the restroom himself.

Knowing he should probably get out of bed, he sighed something dramatic before rising and rubbing furiously at his eyes.

He was pulled out of his grumpy, early morning pout when Sam slapped him on the shoulder, “Not a morning person huh, Cas?” Cas shook his head, looking as disheveled as Sam had ever seen him. Sam laughed and padded his way into the mini kitchen area to make his cup of who-the-hell-even-drinks-this-stuff coffee.

******

By the time the two brothers and their ex-angel were ready for the day, it was a little past 10:00 am. Since they didn’t need to pass FBI, or anything of the like, today they dressed up in their usual flannel and jeans, while Cas wore his customary suit and blue tie, which he always topped with his ever-present trench coat.

They were just pulling out of the motel parking lot when Dean spoke up, “Alright, so I know we went over this before we left, but where the hell are we gonna start?” He glanced once at Cas in the rearview mirror, then at his brother.

Sam looked over at Dean from the passenger seat, shaking his head, “I don’t really know… I was thinking we could maybe check out UPS first? See if there are any employees there fitting the mother’s description?”

Nodding his head, Dean asked, “Okay, sure. We can do that. But, what was the description she gave again? I… I forgot.”

Sam blew out a huff of air, “Dean, you’ve really got to pay attention sometimes. I repeated this, like, twice before we left.”

“Hey! You can’t fault a guy for havin’ bad memory! Just tell me what she looked like.” Dean replied, gaze never wavering from the open road.

“Alright, alright. Whatever. The mother said she was tall with a slim, curvy figure; she had curly, black hair that reached just past her shoulders; and she said she had light brown, tanned skin. There. I am not repeating it again. Cas can tell you if you forget again, Jerk.” Sam looked back at Cas for a brief second to see him smiling from his seat at the brothers’ bickering.

“Bitch” Dean pulled one hand off the steering wheel and reached over to punch Sam the shoulder, “Fine, I won’t forget. And besides, Cas doesn’t mind refreshing my memory, do ya Cas?”

Cas looked up to meet Dean’s eyes in the rearview mirror, “No, Dean. I do not mind refreshing your memory. I understand that most humans’ storage capacity is nothing compared to angels. So, no Dean. I would love to assist in helping you regain your memory, even if it is something as simple as a short description of a young woman.” Although his tone was mocking, Cas said all of this in all seriousness, gravelly voice ringing out and blue eyes piercing Dean’s in the mirror.

Dean laughed out loud at Cas’ slight mockery, “Thanks, Cas. I appreciate that. Just don’t go around comparin’ all the time. That’s not really somethin’ that’ll land right with the ordinary people.”

Seeing Cas’ confused frown, Dean waved off the comment and opted to turn the radio’s volume up. Warrant’s ‘Cherry Pie’ blared through the Impala’s speaker, filling the car with loud guitar riffs and drum beats.

Dean fist bumped the air, getting into the beat, “Ah, man! I love this song!”

“She’s my cherry pie!”

“Cool drink of water, such a sweet surprise!”

“Tastes so good make a grown man cry,”

“Sweet cherry pieeeee!”

“YEAH!” He took one hand off of the wheel and began violently strumming an air guitar, all while embarrassingly imitating the sound of the strings.

Dean was smiling so wide when he looked at Sam in the passenger seat, and Sam couldn’t help but smile boyishly back. Bobbing his head, he joined Dean in the beat while singing along. During one of the guitar riffs, he looked to the backseat to see Cas silently enjoying the scene before him. Sam gestured to the dash of the Impala, “Hey! Come on, Cas! I know you wanna join in too!”

Because Dean was so immersed in the classic song, he didn’t notice Cas’ rumbly voice joining in alongside him and his brother, bobbing his head as well. Although Cas wasn’t well educated in music, he knew this song fairly well. Only thanks to hearing it multiple times while accompanying Dean on various hunts or supply runs.

The song eventually faded out, the radio switching to some commercial about the local chicken joint. Dean turned the volume down from the notch reserved for the good songs, “Not some stupid commercial.” The rest of the car ride to UPS was spent in a comfortable silence, listening to the quiet sound of the man reciting how great Sonny’s chicken is.

******