It was the middle of the day, Sam having left the motel room to make what was supposed to be a quick run to the store. He'd been gone a while--and with his baby, the Impala, to make things worse. It took him long enough to hand over the keys in the first place, and now suddenly he was regretting caving to Sam's bribing. I'll bring back pie--and beer! he'd said. Well, all he could say now was that the pie had better be freakin' worth the wait, for he wasn't a happy camper right now.
Sam wasn't answering his cell nor responding to any of the spam-messages Dean was leaving him, causing the hunter's worry to grow. With an aggravated sigh, Dean tried yet another phone that Sam carried with him. Still no answer. It rang, and rang and rang until he was told to leave a message. "Dammit, Sammy. Call me." Agitation rang clear as a bell in his voice, Dean flipping his phone shut and resting his arms on his legs. Seconds ticked by in silence, though his thoughts were loud and more than enough to fill it.
He found said thoughts straying to Cas and his whereabouts, and--of course, their last encounter. Castiel hadn't been himself, controlled and under Naomi's influence. He'd been beaten bloody, and it took a few pleads and convincing words to pull his angel comrade back to reality. Cas, we're family. We need you. I need you. Cas had healed him then, but he'd also taken off with the angel tablet promptly after. Since then? Dean hadn't seen him, but his presence was sorely missed, even if the hunter sometimes denied it. Hell, he sometimes even made for good entertainment, with his lack of understanding sarcasm and humanity. For an angel, he had to admit, Cas was pretty awesome.
Fidgeting with his phone, Dean remained silent for a few more moments, pondering on whether or not praying for Cas would be a good idea. His feelings and thoughts conflicted, pulling him this way and that, but in the end, he'd decided on trying to contact the angel. This hadn't been the first time since their last encounter, but his prayers had gone unanswered before. Why would this time be any different? He was getting tired of going out of his way to pray only to get nothing in response. Was this still Naomi's doing, or was Castiel ignoring him by choice? He just needed answers.
"Cas?" He paused, raising his eyebrows and waiting for a moment. No response. "Cas," he began, voice more firm now, "I know you can hear me, dammit! Why won't you answer me?" Dean stood then, tossing his phone onto the bed before rubbing the space between his eyes in a frustrated manner. "I need you, buddy." Another pause. He didn't like begging or feeling weak, but he forced himself to continue. "Please?"
With still no answer, Dean picked up his phone and slid it into the pocket of his jeans. "Y'know what, fine. Screw you too." His hands then instead slipped into the pockets of his jacket, and suddenly his plan to go after Sam came to a halt. Right, the thing he'd just been worrying about. No Impala. That kid would surely have his privileges revoked when he was done with him. Nonetheless, anything was better than waiting around here. Thus, Dean headed toward the door. He'd go by foot or borrow a car or something.
