YOU WANT, UH, A TISSUE? MAYBE SOME SOAP? NEW CLOTHES?

[dousing]

COVERED IN BLOOD MEME So you're a bit of a mess. Or you're stumbling upon a mess. What happened? There's blood everywhere, what the hell? Is it your blood, animal blood, the blood of someone you murdered? Hell, maybe you ran out of tampons. Anyway, no matter how it got there, you're (or someone you know is) covered in blood. Can it be explained away? If not, is someone going to prison? The hospital? Going to die of blood loss? Get in trouble for playing catch with the blood bags? Man, we don't know. The point is you have a mess to clean up. Or roll around in gleefully, you nasty fucks. • Top level your character. Include any details you might think are relevant. Or don't. As always, we're not the cops. • Reply to other people's top levels! • While this meme is bound to have a lot of potentially triggering content, content warnings for anything ott or very extreme are probably a good idea! • Have fun!

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[to_rebel]

Cas draws back, just slightly, and considers Dean thoughtfully. He does try to recall what had happened but it's... just gone. There are flashes of dim memory, just enough to suggest that something happened.

To be frank, it's quite alarming.

"I cannot. I... I don't remember."

[black_impala_groovin]

Well, something must have. Blood doesn't usually just appear and douse somebody out of nowhere (though it's been known to happen if you get on the wrong side of the wrong witch or spirit.)

"Wait, what?" He'd been half-turned to head off in search of those towels, but swivels back at that and comes back to his friend, looking him over worriedly. "Nothing? Cas, you sure you're not hurt? You feel like you got hit in the head or something?"

No, that wouldn't be it, he realizes even as he's asking the question. Amneisa from a blow to the head's pretty rare even among humans; he's not sure anything on this planet could hit an angel hard enough to cause it without straight-up splattering his vessel in the process.

Then his eyes drop to his own blood-slicked hand, then the gore all over Cas, and he frowns. "Or could it be this stuff...?" As he tries to remember if he's ever seen anything in the lore about something with blood that wipes peoples' memories. "What's the last thing you do remember clearly, before you showed up here?"

[to_rebel]

"My head is..." He intends to say fine, but that's not quite true. There's no pain in his head, certainly, but there's a fuzzy sort of confusion that's slowing him down a bit. "...I don't think I hit my head," he says instead.

Dean's looking at him intently, worrying over the blood, and Cas looks down at himself and simply stares at his hands for a moment. Yes, some of this blood is his; a gash on his torso is slowly healing and his knuckles are scraped raw. There had been a fight of some sort and it's disturbing on a fundamentally deep level that he cannot remember it.

His brow furrows. "I was looking for Kelly Kline." Which he does every free moment, so that doesn't really narrow it down at all. "There were odd events in Grandview, Missouri. I think I went there."

Anything after that, until walking into the bunker, is a blank.

[black_impala_groovin]

"All right, well, belay that 'get yourself together' bit, let's get this stuff off you pronto." And me, Dean thinks as he gestures for Cas to follow him, visions of the two of them wandering aimlessly around the Bunker trying to remember what the hell they're doing dancing unsettlingly in his head.

With that in mind, he wipes his bloodied hand on his flannel shirt--here's hoping that can be safely cleaned--and takes out his phone, dialing Sam.

"Hey. What's up?" his brother's voice comes over the line.

"Hey, Sammy. Not sure yet. We got a situation brewing--nothing to freak out about, I don't think. But do me a solid...call me back in about ten minutes and ask me if we made it to the mud room."

Which would be the room he and Sam installed for situations like this one. The Men of Letters were all about research, not quite so strong on field work. For a couple of hunters who could come home at any time covered in God knows what kind of gross goop, having a dedicated place to clean off, with drains isolated from the public sewers, is a must...though the holding tanks are a problem in their own right that they're eventually going to have to deal with.

For now, though, his mentioning that room and the word we is enough to clue Sam in to some extent. "...uh, yeah. Okay, no problem. Cas there with you? You guys all right?"

"More or less." He glances back Cas's way, some apprehension showing. "I'll fill you in when we know more. How's the case, you turn anything up?"

"Nothing solid yet, but I'm working a couple of leads. I'll keep you posted. Meantime do whatever you guys gotta do, I'll talk to you in a few."

"Thanks." He hangs up and pushes the door to the mud room open, pointing at a curtained enclosure with shelves of towels and supplies and a hamper next to it.

"All right, in you go, get that crap off. If that doesn't help then we'll come up with a Plan B." He shucks off and tosses his flannel in the hamper, twists a couple of knobs on the wall to direct the rinse water to an empty tank, and then heads to a large sink to wash his own hands thoroughly. "I dunno, scare up some kind of haz-mat gear and head back to Grandview if we need to..."

[to_rebel]

Calling Sam had been a good idea, all things considered, and Castiel is glad that Dean thought of it. He's hit with the same visions that Dead had: them wandering around the bunker, never quite getting to their destination. He doesn't think it's the blood, but since they have no idea what is actually causing the memory loss, Cas will fall on the side of better safe than sorry in this case.

Cas shucks off his overcoat and jacket as he approaches the curtain. He glances at Dean as he tosses them into the hamper; he can clean that up later if needed. He pauses with his hand on the curtain. "I can handle it, if necessary. If you and Sam have a case..." He trails off, letting Dean fill in the rest of the sentence.