《red light》不渡万山

8、第 8 章

　　The last time he'd spent this much time alone had been the night he found out that Anna was gone, when he'd run to the forest and hid from everyone. Now, here he was again. He couldn't remember where he'd come out of the forest exactly. Maybe if he focused, he'd figure out his exact location.
　　Taking another deep breath, Castiel tried to think about a random spot he might have come from before he remembered. A tree. Yeah. That's right! He had run to the big oak tree near the football field and jumped off of it! But where was he now? He tried thinking of the place he'd left his phone. Somewhere on the other side of the clearing…
　　Suddenly, he heard rustling in the brush behind him. Without thinking, Castiel dove sideways into the tree trunk behind him, hiding under the roots. The sound came closer again as someone began approaching.
　　"Hello…?" the voice called hesitantly. "Is anybody there?"
　　Castiel held his breath. Whoever it was sounded awfully familiar.
　　"Please don't call the police, please!" pleaded the voice. "We're in trouble already! They'll kill us…"
　　Suddenly, Castiel realized who was trying to talk to him. He sat quietly underneath the tree, listening intently.
　　"…and they won't give a damn about what we have to say… I've seen them before, but you can't tell anyone about that… please promise me…"
　　He listened carefully as the person continued walking deeper into the trees. He waited until the person was no longer standing nearby before crawling out from beneath the bush and heading for the exit. Once he finally stepped out into the sunlight once more, he stopped dead in his tracks, taking in a sharp inhale. It was Dean standing right in front of him.
　　Before he could speak however, Dean raised his hand, stopping Castiel in his tracks.
　　"Whoa, take a breath," Dean told him, smiling gently at him. "Take a breather. What happened to you anyway?"
　　Castiel remained silent for several seconds, unable to believe that Dean was actually speaking to him.
　　"Dean?" he whispered.
　　Dean nodded and smiled. Castiel felt his heart skip a beat as Dean extended a hand towards him.
　　"How did you even get here?" Dean asked softly.
　　"Um, car," Castiel admitted. "My brother drove me home this morning…"
　　"Your brother?" Dean asked.
　　"Yeah, Sam," Castiel replied, nodding. "He's coming over to visit later this evening."
　　Dean gave him a weird look.
　　"You mean to tell me," he said slowly, "that my little brother is actually coming to visit?"
　　Castiel grinned sheepishly.
　　"Well, yes," he replied. "It doesn't really bother me. I've been meaning to talk to him anyways."
　　"So it's okay if I come over to see you too, then?"
　　Castiel paused for a second, unsure of whether it would work if he pretended not to care. But he decided against it. If things were really as bad as Dean claimed they were, then maybe he needed someone to talk to. Someone besides Jo or Bobby. Besides, they were friends.
　　"Of course, Dean," he agreed. "Come on, let's go. My father isn't very happy to see you anymore."
　　Sam opened the door of the library with a sigh. He wasn't sure if he should be relieved to be able to breathe without feeling suffocated or terrified. Because, although he couldn't remember when exactly it was that he began seeing visions, he knew that he'd been having nightmares lately and he feared the possibility that he was losing his mind. Or that somehow, in spite of everything that he knew, there really was nothing left to lose.
　　Maybe if I'm completely honest with myself, I'll finally understand why Castiel hates me so much…
　　He was so lost in his thoughts, he hadn't even noticed Dean sitting down opposite him. Dean seemed to sense that Sam wasn't feeling very enthusiastic at the moment.
　　"Hey," he said casually. "Everything alright, man?"
　　Sam glanced up at Dean. His eyes widened slightly.
　　"Sorry," he muttered. "I uh, was kind of spacing out."
　　Dean gave him a strange look.
　　"You're acting pretty weird," he noted.
　　Sam chuckled lightly.
　　"I am?" he asked. "Am I?"
　　He smiled at Dean, ignoring whatever the hunter may have said next. He got himself together.