Author's Note: THree quick things and then I'll leave you be. 1: I'm sorry for the delay in posting, Senior Year is a bitch. 2) I did watch the season premier so 3) I'm tying it with my storyline. Major spoilers contained within lovelys. you've been warned.

Castiel saw the truck out of the corner of his eye before he heard it. He could feel a rush of something flooding through his veins as he hurled himself out of it's path. Then there was a peculiar scraping sensation, followed by a hollow ringing, and searing pain.

Everything darked for a moment, he simply lay there, his ears ringing, before hand's were grabbing at him and voices trickled in amongst the white noise.

One set of hands in particular was gripping at his face, and the vast majority of prominent words were connected to those hands. Somehow.

The edges of his vision seeped to black for a moment, until another sting of pain lit up his cheek.

This time his eyes came into focus and he saw the features of the one called Charlie Bradbury.

"Cas. Castiel. Stay with me man, we need to get you on your feet. You're alright."

The angel felt himself being pulled vertical, his legs buckling slightly under him. The solid form of Charlie Bradbury held him firm as they limped out of the street and back into the diner that the redhead had abandoned.

Nadia was holding the door open, waving the pair inside quickly. They made it in when the waitress that had taken their order nearly shoved them into a booth and began dabbing at the former angel's face with a wet cloth.

If it wasn't for the shock of the whole scenario rendering Charlie silent, she would have laughed at the confused and slightly appalled expression that was painted onto Castiel's features.

A bearded man burst into the cafe,his face red from exertion. "Shit man, you alright? What were you doing in the middle of the road like that?"

Charlie moved to step in front of the man but Cas pushed himself to standing and placed a hand on her shoulder. "It's alright." He faced the man. "My sincerest apologies. I was attempting to reach an area that would have a phone." Castiel shook his head and squinted, as if suddenly remembering something. " I...I need to make a phone call."

Charlie pulled her phone out of her pocket and handed it to the angel. "Dean's number is the first one on speed dial."

The man shook his head. "There ain't no signal around here. I can give you a lift to a pay phone, if you want."

Cas nodded. "Thank you. I'd fly but I don't have wings." He tilted his head and shrugged slightly. "Not anymore."

Charlie and Nadia both shared concerned glances and steppe up to flank either side of the former angel. "Cas that may not be the best idea, we can." He turned and smiled at Charlie, which unnerved the red head severely. "I will return as soon as I finish calling Dean." He followed the man out of the cafe his gate slightly unsteady from the shock of his injuries.

The redhead moved to follow him but Nadia stopped her. "I'm sure that he'll be fine. He's a grown ass man, he can take care of himself. Charlie siged and ran her fingers through her hair. You're right."

Nadia smirked and smacked Charlie's butt playfully. "Come on, let's pay for our food and see if we can't book a motel room."

The genius blushed furiously. She stammered "A-ah, a room? I mean alright but is it really-"

Nadia rolled her eyes. "Get your mind out of the gutter. Is it not the logical thing for us to book motel rooms as we are spending the night?"

Charlie nodded and pulled out her wallet, trying desperately to avoid eye contact with the woman behind her as she walked up to the register. "I'm sorry Mr. Spock my emotional human mind got the better of me."

The other woman leaned against the counter while the red head payed for their meals. "I'm assuming that was a reference to another thing I've never heard of."

Charlie nodded. "Star Trek." THey both stated for the door. "How have you never heard of Star Trek? I mean it's been around since the late 60's. They even have this whole reboot thing going on right now."

Nadia shrugged. "It never made it's way to me."

The walked along the sidewalk for a moment before Nadia spoke again. "Let's just assume that I know nothing of popular culture past 1958."

Charlie chuckled and shook her head, mumbling to herself. "Straight out of the Men of Letters."

Nadia stopped short and gripped Charlies arm, spinning her around to face her in the street. Her eyes were intense, and Charlie swore that she saw a flash of red ripple behind them. "What do you know of the Men of Letters?"

The redhead pulled her arm free and rubbed it gently. "Not much, gees. Why?"

The woman pulled at a curl and let it bounce back into place as she mulled over what she was going to say. "My, mother. She used to speak about the Men of Letters. How they would gather knowledge about demons and monsters. The things that hide beneath our beds. It was all nonsense though. Monsters aren't real. "

Charlie acquiesce and started walking again. "The world is a strange place."

Nadia laughed. "Clearly. Tell me, are there any left?"

The red head shrugged. "I have no idea. All I know of them is from books."

That apparently ended the conversation as the two of them came up to the door of a seedy little motel. It was at that exact moment that the Vacancy sign exploded in a cascade of sparks and broken glass. Both women shielded their eyes. That's when Charlie Bradbury felt someone grab her hair and yank her forwards, her head colliding solidly with the wall.


Dean sat in the hospital Chapel, his hands in his lap as he coped what the doctor told him. Sam was dieing. He's in a coma. His lie was in God's hands.

When had God ever been there for him? Hell the closest he got to God was Castiel, and he was probably dead.

The hunter sighed and glanced around. It wouldn't hurt to toss out one more prayer, would it?

"Cas you there?"

He paused for a moment, listening intently for the usual swish of a trench coat and the gravelly voice that accompanied it. "Sammy's hurt. He's hurt-"

His voice broke, and he took a moment to collect himself. "He's hurt pretty bad and, ah, I know that you think that I'm pissed at you, okay? But I don't give a damn that the angels fell. So whatever you did or did not do it doesn't matter. Okay? We'll work it out."

He paused again, trying to swallow the lump in is throat. "Please man, I need you."

He looked around and waited, hoping that somehow Cas was alive. That he could help.

The seconds flew by and Dean shook his head, battling back the tears that pooled behind his eyes. "Screw it."

The hunter straightened himself up in his chair and focused his eyes forward, forcing his lip to stop trembling. "This one goes out to any angel with their ears on. This is Dean Winchester and I need your help. The deal is this. I'm at Smith County Memorial Hospital, Lebanon Kansas. The first one who helps me gets my help in return. And you know that ain't nothing. Hell, it's no secret that we haven't always seen eye to eye, but you know that I am good for my word. I wouldn't be asking if I wasn't needy so-"

He broke off the prayer and looked around, dismayed to see no angels around him, hostile or otherwise. He pushed himself off of his chair and stalked back to Sam's hospital room, bent on waiting out the arrival of the cavalry, in whatever form that might take.

No sooner did he walk into the room did a woman follow him. He spun around and held up his hands defensively. "Forgive me if this is rude, but are you an angel?"

The woman shook her head and chuckled sadly. "No, though sometimes I wish I were. I'm the hospital's grief counselor."

Dean huffed and shook his head. "No, I'm sorry but I don't need you here. I'm sure that you have the best intentions, but I ain't grieving yet."

The woman smiled softly. "I'm just here to prepare you for the inevitable."

The hunter huffed. "Listen lady. Where I come from inevitable is a fighting word. Nothing's inevitable until it happens, okay?"

The woman sighed. "Sir I envy you your optimism. I'm a praying woman myself and I hope that those angels you were hoping for come and give you that miracle."

Dean paused and smoother the she over Sam's chest before the thought came to him. "Who needs angels when you have the king of hell in your trunk."

The hunter bolted from the room leaving the counselor alone in his wake. "Sir?" She called after him. "Is that a metaphor?"


Kevin Tran settled onto the couch with a beer in his hand, his thoughts drifting from the laptop screen before him to his concern for the Winchesters. One thing was certain. The internet was ablaze with talk of meteor showers and fallen men.