Disobedience, Castiel decided, tasted of rust. Rust, or blood, the stench laying thick on his tongue, cutting with tiny splinters of iron. It was the same color as the gore that stained his hands; it stood in stark contrast to the pallor of his skin, caked beneath his fingernails, tinted his fingers red. It wasn’t warm, not anymore. Just gritty.
His brother lay at his feet. He wasn’t moving. Castiel thought he should have felt worse than he did, but the truth was that he felt nothing. Just numb, a cold burgundy that pooled in the pit of his stomach, quenched the flames there.
A sharp whiteness tugged at Castiel. He tilted his head to listen; it came from above, shot down from starchy clouds in a single violent bolt. The white buzzed in Castiel’s teeth, resonating at a frequency far below the range of human hearing. But Castiel could hear it.
It sounded like the tossing waves and howling winds of a storm at sea as a fish might hear it, fathoms beneath the surface. It flickered and roared with the deliberate fury of millennia – almost like a brighter, colder Hell, Castiel thought. It hissed with the faint threat of a seething, stinging blue.
He didn’t know it was her. He couldn’t. But he knew he needed to leave, so he did. His brother’s wide, still eyes watched him go. They were shockingly blue.
Two months, he’d been back in Beacon Hills for two months, the shop had opened a month ago and so far business was good. He’d also managed to keep to himself so far, minus Scott who had come in to see him the day he moved back to town, it had been three years since he’d seen his best friend both busy with life. Stiles was neck deep in taking over Howl At The Moon a tattoo shop he had been at since he was seventeen, learning the art from some of the most skilled guys in the tattoo industry. Apparently his lack of focus all stopped when the buzzing of a tattoo machine started, and his ability transferred to art. Landing him an internship with the shop and soon a full time job, that was ten years ago.
Business was so good in Miami, Kory and him decided it was time to open up a smaller shop so here he was back in Beacon; Anna, Kory’s daughter manning the reception desk while he sat in the back sketching out some random designs for his next appointment, the kid had been a little scattered so he was going with what he’d been given. Hidden from the front of the shop he sighed enjoying the quiet moment he had until the bell above the door rung, sounding over the quiet music Anna had put on while she cleaned. He could hear her bubbly voice as she greeted the customer making him shake his head and smile.
“Welcome to Howl at the Moon, are you interested in getting a tattoo?” She asked a natural at this. Which made sense since her dad had been doing this longer than she’d been alive. Stiles stayed seated, he’d go out if the person mentioned wanting something drawn out, otherwise they could look at the books of samples.