The Impala crunched to a halt on the gravel shoulder. Dean killed the engine, and the four of them climbed out into the quiet night.
Sam and Dean stood by the car, pulling up their shirts to expose their ribs. Castiel faced them, expression flat.
"This is going to hurt," he said. "I have to carve the Enochian warding directly into your bone."
Dean gripped the edge of the car roof, bracing himself. "We're not kids, Cas. Just do it."
"Okay."
Castiel plunged his bare hands straight into both their chests. No blood — just a bright white light flaring under their skin, flashing like an X-ray against their ribs, the sharp smell of ozone hitting the air. Dean and Sam went rigid, then started screaming.
Henry stood by the trunk, hands in his pockets, looking away.
Castiel pulled his hands back and the light died out. Dean and Sam slumped against the Impala, coughing, dragging in air.
Dean rubbed his chest, pale in the moonlight. "Son of a bitch. That hurt like a bitch."
"I did warn you."
"Shut up, Cas," Dean muttered, wiping sweat from his forehead.
Castiel turned from the brothers and walked up to Henry. "Lift your shirt."
Henry stepped back, hands raised. "Whoa, wait a minute. Why do I have to do this? I'm not a vessel. I'm not on Michael or Lucifer's draft board."
"No," Castiel said, flat.
"But you're constantly with them. And Zachariah knows exactly what you are. You killed four of Heaven's soldiers tonight with raw celestial power. Your signature is blinding on the angelic radar. If they track you, they find Dean and Sam."
"He's right," Sam said, pushing off the car. "We can't leave breadcrumbs. Heaven's going to come at us with everything they have."
Dean nodded, still wincing as he straightened. "For once, the feathered dick makes sense. You lit up that parking lot, Henry. Take your medicine so we can get out of here."
Henry looked between them. He wanted to argue, but he knew they were right — leaving his signal unmasked was a liability. He let out an annoyed breath and reached for the hem of his shirt.
"Fine," he muttered, pulling it up. "But if you scramble my internal organs, I'm gonna—"
Castiel didn't wait for the threat to finish. He stepped forward and shoved his bare hand into Henry's chest.
White light flared under the skin, ozone spiking in the cold air. Henry's eyes went wide, his jaw locking as the script burned into his bones. A second later he screamed, knees buckling toward the gravel.
Dean leaned against the trunk, watching with a tired smirk. "Yeah. Hurts like a bitch, doesn't it?"
Castiel pulled his hand back. Henry dropped to his knees, coughing, clutching his chest.
"Shut up, Dean," he wheezed. "Can you turn off the sadistic streak for five minutes?"
Sam pulled his shirt down, looking at Castiel. "So that's it? None of us can be tracked by angels or demons now?"
"No one," Castiel confirmed. "Not even I will be able to find you. Which is why I need to leave now. I have to find a way to stop Lucifer."
Henry pushed himself up from the dirt, reached into his jacket, pulled out a pen and a crumpled receipt, and scribbled down a burner number. He handed it over. "Here. Use this if you need to reach us."
Castiel took the paper, holding it between his fingers, staring at the ink with a blank expression. "Yes. I will contact you with this."
Dean leaned against the Impala, arms crossed. "Do you even know how to use a phone, Cas?"
Castiel looked up slowly, eyes narrowing, expression tightening into a stiff, unamused frown. He stood there a moment, radiating quiet offense.
"I am an angel of the Lord, Dean," he said, flat. "I comprehend how to press numbered buttons in a sequence."
Dean opened his mouth to reply, but Castiel didn't give him the chance — a heavy rustle of feathers in the dark, and he was gone. Cold wind rushed into the space where he'd been standing.
Dean blinked at the empty gravel. "Touchy."
"Can we just go?" Sam asked, exhausted, walking around to the passenger side.
Dean had barely shifted the Impala into drive when the rustle of feathers sounded inside the cabin. Henry jumped as Castiel materialized beside him in the back seat, sitting perfectly stiff.
"Son of a bitch, Cas!" Dean yelled, slamming the brake.
"I forgot to mention something," Castiel said, ignoring the outburst. "Lucifer is walking the Earth. His presence alone is a beacon. He will summon the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. They will bring an end to this world."
Dean stared at him in the rearview mirror. "Four Horsemen? You mean like War, Famine—"
"Pestilence, and Death," Sam finished, turning around. "You're saying they're actually real?"
"They are very real, Sam," Castiel said, gravelly and dead-serious. "They're not angels or demons. They're primal forces of nature. Lucifer will take control of them and use them to scour this planet clean of humanity."
Henry rubbed his aching ribs, leaning his head against the window. "Great. So we're dodging Heaven's hit squads, demons, the Devil, and now the literal Four Horsemen. Anything else you want to drop on us before you bail? The Loch Ness Monster?"
Castiel tilted his head, genuinely confused. "The Loch Ness Monster is a myth, Henry. It has no part in the apocalypse."
Before Henry could point out the irony, the sound of wings echoed through the car, and Castiel was gone again.
Dean stared at the mirror, gripping the wheel tight enough to snap it. "I'm gonna kill him." He shifted into drive and hit the gas.
*****
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