Sitting around and waiting at home was never a pleasant thing. Castiel had up and left you the moment you took the water, so after returning to your room, you had plodded through your mess and sat at your desk for awhile.

The water was finished rather quickly, and you had repeatedly picked the cup up before putting it back down just to relish in the pleasant thoughts that came with being offered a good deed.

The piles of papers covering every inch of the desk were a bit of a hindrance, so you had pushed a pile off, watching as the drawings met the floor where even more papers were.

Setting your cup down in the limited space, you relaxed into your seat.

That was- incredibly nice of Cas. He was always so nice to you.

Looking to your worn Christmas tree sweater mug, you smiled, reaching out and taking it into your hands. Your thumbs traced the rims of the mug for what must have been the fourth time.

Smile still on your face you placed it back down- again, before spinning around the best you could in your chair- which consisted of you stepping all over your piles of clothes. Exhaling- you let out a small happy laugh.

Gosh- you were suddenly giddy.

Sitting up straight, you stepped out of your chair before flinging yourself back onto your bed.

Laptop on hand, you flipped it open, shooting Sam a text to ask when they'd be back.

Quick on the draw, Sam responded, saying they'd be back in a few hours.

God- more hours to wait. Huffing, you layed back into your bed.

You wanted to sleep. Pass the time in a dreamscape of peace and tranquility. With your theory all but thrown out the window, you didn't have much to ponder.

No elaborate way to pass time.

No netflix to your chill.

Huffing, you shut your eyes a little harder.

Alas- you couldn't fall asleep.

You sat there, back against the top of your mattress and torso beneath a mass of blankets for what felt like hours.

When you lifted you head out of annoyance to look at the clock- it had only been a few minutes.

Groaning, you pushed yourself over the edge of your bed, slowly slinking down until you met the floor, blankets falling off with you as you sank into the mess of clothes and papers.

Laying there, on the floor, you let yourself fade. Thoughts melding into one and other with a scorching yet caramel like flow. The papers weren't the softest- and some of it scratched at your arms with a an unpleasant angle, but you sat there nonetheless.

Something black began crawling closer to your face amidst this. Inching steadily with a wary wobble of whiskers.

You knew what that was.

Antenna, layers of legs-

An indignant screech left you, as you flung yourself upwards with a scrambled flurry of limbs.

The centipede that had been so slowly inching towards you took off in a frenzy, scared witless and taking the first path it saw, which was right up your legs.

Screaming reaching a whole new octave, you slapped your legs furiously, missing it twice on your shin, but finally nailing the bug when it reached just above your knee.

Mouth still open, panting, heart beating, you stared at the dead bug on your leg- ironically one of its legs still twitching in an erratic pace.

Glancing to the mess of clothes on your floor, and realizing just how dangerous it was to be standing where you were, you scurried to your door, running out into the much cleaner hallway before slamming the door.

Still panting, you sat down, looking at the smashed centipede on your leg- tiny bug guts and all.

Gross.

Reaching out with a finger, you aimed to touch it. Slowly inching closer and closer to it.

It should have been like any other time you poked something. Should have felt normal.

But it didn't.

Something warm grabbed the back of your neck. A hand, clenching itself into your nerves and guiding you towards the bug.

It felt like electricity was fizzling out of your hand, static shocks clicking up into your palm, and leaving tingling sensations behind.

Closer- and closer, your fingers grew to the corpse.

The warmth in your neck grew- spreading and spreading down the bone of your spine, up the skull of your head.

Until your finger connected with broken and leaking chitin.

The spark that came from your hand, and slipped into the corpse was frighteningly strong- all the lights in the hallway flickering out- one having the nerve to shatter entirely.

You were motionless, feeling the heated hand on your neck leave, only the cold basement type air being left behind.

Honestly, you couldn't quite describe what had happened. Not fully. Your mind was left fuzzy from the hand and reeling from the thrum of power that had just been filtered through you.

To your surprise, the centipede, still on your leg, still an owner of several tens of legs, yet very clearly. Not. Dead.

It was alive, and warily twisting its antennae in your general direction.

Your eyes widened. Dead set on the newly resurrected and multi-legged friend.

It scurried off of you, down onto the floor and through a hole near the wall, and you merely continued staring at your leg.

Were you scared? Were you horrified?

You didn't know.

You didn't feel hurt- or injured- or burdened in any way.

Just- one moment you felt like you were wrapped in clothes fresh from the dryer- and the next, you were yourself.

And you were confused.

Standing up off the floor, you stared blankly at the shattered glass.

You needed to tell someone.

You needed to tell Sam and Dean.

You needed to talk to Cas.

Shuffling into your room, you rushed past the dangerous clothes, grabbed your laptop, before rushing back out.

Past all the broken glass, and past all the dark hallways, you settled yourself at the kitchen, still scarily unshaken, and nearly tripping over yourself several times with the how dark it was.

Prying the laptop open, you sent a message to Sam as fast you could. Fingers just barely shaking, and thoughts still swirling in a spiral of cascading torrents.

Enter bar pressed.

Message.

Sent.

.

.

'Sam- something happened- be back soon- please.'