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On the Run

Chapter Text

“It’s okay. You’re safe now. I’m taking you home,” Cas told the blood covered Samandriel in his arms. Cas had just teleported them out of the facility that Crowley had tortured the younger angel. Currently, they stood behind a vehicle, Samandriel leaning against it in his weak state.
“No! You can’t take me back there, Castiel,” Samandriel shouted, his face anxious. He clutched the elder angel’s arms tighter.
“Why not?”
“You don’t understand. I told Crowley-” Samandriel knew he would be punished for what he was about to tell his brother. He knew he messed up- “things. Things he shouldn’t of known. He got to our coding out secrets; secrets I didn’t even know we had!”
Cas stared at the frightened angel in disbelief. “What secrets?” he asked not understanding the severity of the situation.
Softer now, Samandriel spoke, “Heaven, Naomi.”
“No. W-who’s Naomi?”
“Who is… Listen to me closely,” his voice trembled as he pulled his brother forward ever so slightly to address how serious this was, “I’ve been there. I know! They’re controlling us, Castiel!”
“What do you mean?” Cas, still a ball of confusion, asked his brother.
After those four words were uttered, Samandriel was left to stare at the blank expression of his brother. Samandriel’s eyes widened, he knew what was happening. They had gotten his brother. He tried to push away, but Castiel’s grip was tight.
Seconds after Castiel’s expression changed, it changed back. The elder angel was now staring down at the struggling angel in his grip.
“Let me go, Castiel. They’re controlling you!” the young angel pleaded.
Castiel removed one hand to ready his blade. Samandriel took this as an opening and dolphin dived out of his brother’s arms. He scrambled across the pavement on his stomach, too out of it to do much else.
Castiel strut after him with ease, blade held firmly in his hand. He easily caught up and kicked his brother to his back. He towered over his shaken brother readying his blade. Out of instinct, Samandriel kicked out at his brother. His foot collided with the blade, flinging it out of reach. Castiel, now enraged, reached down and strangled his brother’s throat. He lifted the younger into the air and hurled him across the pavement.
Samandriel lay in a heap, dazed and wheezing. Castiel trudged toward him, collecting the blade as he went. Samandriel knew he wouldn’t be able to fend off his brother, even if he was fully healed.
“Please, Castiel, don’t do this,” he wheezed through bloodied lips, “You are stronger than them.” Castiel gave no sign of acknowledging any of this, so the younger collected his strength.
Castiel continued toward him. Samandriel managed to get himself to his feet, painful as it may be. His chest heaved as he faced his brother, tears and blood mixing over his cheeks. Castiel didn’t stop, if anything he sped up. Samandriel could barely hold himself together.
Castiel finally went for a lunge, which Samandriel had been preparing for. He jumped out the way, tripping his brother as he went. Now he had a couple seconds before he’d attack again. With all his strength, the younger kicked Castiel in the head, to give him a few more seconds. Now, as quick as he could, Samandriel staggered down the street, ignoring the pain thundering throw his body.
He didn’t stop, not for a good amount of time. Enough to put distance between himself and his brother. He was too weak to teleport so that was his best bet. He began to slow outside of a bar, one of the few establishments open this time at night. He approached the large windows to gaze at the humanity that it contained as if he was visiting the zoo. He backed away. It wasn’t time to watch, he had to heal and take care of himself.
He went to pass the door when a sharp pain jabbed through his head. So many voices. He wasn’t used to them anymore; they were searching for him. He gripped his head. He stumbled into the alley around the building to the dumpsters behind it. There he tripped and collapsed in the trash.

Chapter Text

Images flashed before the young angel's eyes. They revealed a young man screaming in pain, his knuckles white against the smoldering bars in his grasp. His flesh bare of skin and not dissimilar to melting butter. The man's features were agony. An estranged cry pushed him away to gaze at a cage engulfed in fire and void. He recognized this scene as all angels did.

Samandriel's eyes flew open. His body was tense as his grasp struggled to find something to clutch. Catching his breath and calming his heart, the young angel was finally able to take in his surroundings. He was still in the pile of trash he had fallen into the night before. His clothing was stiff with his own blood. With a groan, Samandriel crawled out of the trash. It was at this time he noticed an elderly man sat across from him. Reluctantly, the man passed him a dirty rag without question. Samandriel smiled at the small kindness and wiped off his face.

"Thank you," the young angel said as he passed the rag back to the man. He then settled more comfortably into a sitting position. He needed to know why he experienced the images he had. It couldn't have been a regular dream, ergo a nightmare. Angel's simply did not experience dreams.

The idea that it had been sent from Heaven as a threat quickly crossed his mind. His vessel's heart beat harder and his breathing increased with it. The young angel covered his face with his hands as his head sunk to his lap. They'll be hunting me. Samandriel decided. He didn't want to believe his brothers and sisters would abandon him, that Castiel would abandon him. His eyes welled and tears rolled across his palms. Of course they did. What else was Heaven good at besides deserting its own.

Samandriel let out a shuddering breath before recollecting himself. He sat back taking deep breaths to distract from the itchiness of his now red eyes. Samandriel, one of the youngest angels in Heaven and regularly regarded as Heaven's most adorable, was alone. Not a soul from Heaven or Hell, Demon or Angel, cared for his existence except for the end of it. The young angel's thoughts wandered back to the images he witnessed. Maybe that figure wasn't him, but in fact a lost soul. Someone like him who needed a friend. Samandriel knew what he had to do.

Chapter Text

Adam awoke in the dark. His hands fluttered frantically at the substance above him. He recognized it as dirt and memories of the last time flooded his mind, fueling him with adrenaline. Quickly, with frantic breathes, he dug towards what he believed was up.

Adam’s hand breached the surface. It swished in the wind as his other hand clawed at the dirt above to join it. Cold air. He could breathe again. Slowly and painfully he pulled his bleeding body out of his newly found grave.

Adam had been prisoned in that cage with two extremely bored celestial entities for so long, he almost couldn't remember what it was like to breath fresh air. It was calm. Anxiety rippled across his skin. It was too calm. Fear crept into the background as he lay waiting for the other shoe to drop. It had to be a trick, a new game that the archangels created. He knew he was going to be ripped out of this paradise once he let himself settle.

He rolled into his back. The stars shone like never before and Adam felt like a toddler gazing upon them for the first time. A smile slide onto his face, mostly erasing the unease he was feeling just now. Pulling his eyes from the sky, Adam found himself in a field framed by trees. He was alone in the dark. He absorbed his new surroundings in wonder. Then his stomach rumbled which startled the young man. It hadn't done that in centuries.

Adam struggled to his feet. He didn't know where to go, thus he began staggering in circles trying to figure out which direction would lead him to civilization. He felt a pull from one and decided he might as well head that way.

Slowly and painfully, he navigated his way out onto a road with the guidance of an unknown force. Across the road was a truck stop. Skittishly, he approached the building. The inside was mostly empty aside from a waitress, a cook, and a baby faced man dressed in a fast-food uniform.

Adam limped into the stop, slowly making his way to the fast-food man. He stopped at the booth and glared. There was something off about him, but his eyes were too hazy to point it out to him yet. The stranger gestured to the seat across from him with a comforting expression.

Something was definitely weird about this situation but he sat nevertheless. The waitress he saw earlier came by, "What would you like, Honey Bunch?"

The man across from Adam responded for him, "He'll take eggs and toast and a cup of coffee. Nothing for me, thank you." Adam's stomach growled at the mere mention of food.

The woman nodded, "Wheat or White and scrambled or sunnyside?"

Adam croaked out an answer before the stranger could, "White bread and scrambled eggs." The waitress nodded and rushed back to the counter to get coffee. The man was staring at him already when he turned his focus back on him.

The baby faced man introduced himself, "I am Samandriel and I-" he was promptly cut on by Adam.

"You're an angel," Adam began to get heated. He hadn't had a lot of time in the cage to get angry, but he still held onto that pent up rage. "I've had enough of your kind, so I think I'll be going." Millagin went to stand but found the waitress coming back with his coffee. It smelled wonderful after so long with nothing to smell but burning flesh and sulfur. "After, I eat," he said sitting back down almost ripping the mug from the woman's hands.

Samandriel began again, "I've heard of what my kind has done to you, what Heaven has done to you-"

"You have no idea," Adam interrupted over the lip of his coffee. He could feel his nerves calming at the taste of something so familiar yet so foreign. It was like falling in love with the drink all over again.

"They've done.. things to me as well," the young angel continued trying to find the nicest way of saying it, "I hope we can help each other."

Adam raised a questioning brow at the young angel. He continued to sip his coffee while eyeing man across from him. "What things could they possibly do to one of their own that's worse than what they've done to me?" Adam hissed out his words with the intention to hurt the other.

Samandriel's calm fasade melted into a pained expression. He looked hesitant to say, but did anyway, "Brainwashing and being tortured into compliance. Forcing us to be emotionless soldiers who will die for the cause and killing any and all who don't comply… Using us like puppets because the ends always justifies the means..." Samandriel trailed off into a daze. He was terrified and still trying to sift through all the information Crowley tortured out of him.

Adam was surprised to say the least. He imagined Heaven being a paradise for all feathered dickbags. He set his mug down to actually look at the young angel. He was filthy. Dried blood rippled throughout his entire shirt and some was stained in his hair and neck. The uniform he wore was tattered and a strong smell of trash reeked off of him. Adam couldn't really complain, he too was covered in blood and dirt with a slight hint of death in his aroma.

"I'm going to the bathroom. I'm probably covered in dirt." Adam left the dazed angel to himself in search of the restroom. Once there he flipped on the water. The cool of it was soothing and calmed his trembling hands. Warmth replaced the peaceful cold and the feeling of unease and terror found its way back to his skin. Adam's breath grew shallow as the water heated around his hands. He ripped them away and clutched them to his chest. His heart desperately tried to escape while his gaze locked on the running faucet.

Adam's mind was blank, or running a thousand miles a minute. Either way, his focus was lost. Carefully, he reached around the running water to the faucet. As if the water were a snake waiting for an opening, Adam delicately turned it off. When he realized he hadn't been harmed, his arms fell to his sides and the length between his inhales and exhales widened. He finally lifted his gaze from the sink and instead toward the figure before him. A stranger stood behind the sink before him. A tired, dirt covered stranger who smelled strongly of fresh compost and death.

Adam reached out to touch the face of the stranger but was met with sleek glass. A dumbfounded look slipped into his face. The hand on the mirror retracted to touch his cheek. This time it was met with the warmth of his skin and the dirt rubbed into it. Adam's eyes washed over his figure once more before he remembered why he came to the bathroom in the first place. Quickly, he damped a paper towel, careful to turn on the cold water, and washed away the grim. He heavily brushed away the dirt from his clothing until he was satisfied. His eyes re-met his own, leaving a light smile to spread onto his lips. Adam could have stood there getting reaquanited with his appearance if not for the incoherent screams and crashes from the rest of the truck stop.