#impalaas

he gives his best blue steel, but she's not looking at his face.

He didn't know what kind of deal had been made, or if the parties that held him hostage were still among the living. Regardless of what happened, Castiel had been 'let go' in the broadest sense of the term. Where and in what condition had not been disclosed to the elder Winchester.

Tires screamed to a halt past a patch of unbroken tan in a ditch. There was no sign of life as the car pulled over. No sign of life at his own name in frantic tones. No sign of life as hands pawed at his vessel. Castiel was sheet pale, and the telltale ring of Grace was pouring from a nasty wound in his abdomen, but he was still breathing.

The last time Liza had looked at her phone had been this morning when she'd called in sick to work -- no way she was showing up like this, running a fever and feeling like death warmed over. Laying on the couch to rot and watch comfort movies was a much better idea, but when she heard a car outside, she fumbled for her phone and realized she'd missed several texts from Dean, the last one reading a little more concerned than normal -- well, as far as she could tell over a text message, anyway. Before she could warn him that she was sick, he was already using the key she’d hidden to unlock the door and let himself inside.

There's a book she's trying to skim through in her hands, a huff of a breath escaping her as gaze finally dares to look up towards him.

"Don't know who thought the Dracula book was considered good research. . .you know there's a whole thing about Abraham having a bunch of kids? There's hunters out there that are Van Helsings apparently."

continued from :: @impalaas

Blue eyes glowed yellow for a few more seconds, before slowly fading back to blue, as she stood over him. She let in and out a few deep breaths, a hand pressed to her chest as she tried to calm herself down. At least he was alive. Which is better than the alternative.

'who did this to you?' (Have an angry Dean)

"-More of a what question. . .any reports of a werewolf in town recently?"

There's still fresh crimson trickling down her features from a decent cut above her brow, some white gauze being held up towards it in an attempt to slow the bleeding. Beyond the mere bruises and scrapes that were minor, the worse is the three deep claw gashes across her back. Crimson has been staining her attire for some time now, and with where the gashes are - they're not exactly easy for her to reach to and treat herself.

ִֶָ. ..𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ🪽་༘࿐ ˗ˏˋ walkie talkie clutched in his fist , they'd made it to their first stop victim on the list . he had what he considered to be the more entertaining of their jobs here , using a burner cell &* voice changer to get in their head , to really freak 'em out and give them a run for their money while dean got himself situated for the attack . this meant his brother picking a lock somewhere or crawling in a window while sam kept the target distracted , or at least that was what they'd planned out . they'd even picked up some generic halloween masks &* robes from lawrence's one and only costume store . after all , where's the fun in a ski mask or just wearing a hoodie ? they were aiming for the big leagues , to leave a mark , and that meant needing to stand out for what they were plotting . between dean's endless knowledge of movie references and sam's love for forensic science &* crime cases , they had plenty of beautiful inspiration to draw from .