Like Air.

Mickaela's Pov

I traced my fingers on the whitewashed walls as I waited for the sun to completely rise in my subconscious. I was still asleep, but I was very aware of my surroundings. How, by seven in the morning, everything was a crystal-clear coolness, and by nine, it was sunny and cheery. Call it sleeping with one eye open?

I stumbled awake out of the cot-like bed, hazily remembering what happened the night before. The diner. Free food. Taken in for the night like a dog from the shelter.

I shrug it off, the feeling of humiliation, from the previous night. It really didn't matter. I just wanted to leave, please, the solitude was unbearable. Civilization it was, but it just wasn't the same as being surrounded by hundreds of people in a lively city- not that I'm a city chick. I just want to be lost within the crowd, and yet at the same time feel the... feel the certainty. Know what I'm about. Feeling me?

It was just way to quiet here... I needed noise, I needed something that told me that people were nearby, that I was not in fact the only living thing for miles.

I let rip an enormous yawn, and at that moment my foot connected with a hard, rough object.

Shit!

But as the swelling in my foot went down, I studied the intruder.

My ticket out.

---

It was a worn-down personal chest, classic wooden with a iron latch, and judging by the way my foot throbbed after the little get-together, it was a very full chest.

To you it may be very odd to have this random luggage sitting in the middle of your room when you wake up, but I had been waiting for this. I heard about it back when I was still a kid. A little 'welcome back' fruit basket from Heaven, if you will.

I open up the latch, anticipating it to be some painful childhood memories sent from upstairs, meant to be a thoughtful gesture.

Well, it wasn't.

MONEY. And a lot of it. I pull out stack after stack of it, shocked that I had received so much. After about the tenth stack, there was a sticky note:

100,000. Don't spend it all in one place. Mom & Dad.

100 grand. Damn. I forgot my family was loaded. Well, screw this, I got the money, now all I need are some clothes, toiletries, a taxi, and some food for the road. Off towards wherever I pleased. This was my boot to a fresh new start as a normal human being- or as close as I could get. I would act responsibly and set myself up a nice, perfect life with the house with the picket fence and huge windows and all that. Right after I visit Vegas.

I'm KIDDING.

Not even bothering to investigate the rest of the chest, I slam it shut and, still in the black dress, thudded down the stairs to the diner area. I'd pay for breakfast, then ask where I could get a ride out into mainland Wyoming.

As I sat down to a plate of blueberry waffles and eggs that were accidentally kinda touching the syrup, my mind traveled back to the sticky note- how it had been written by either mom or dad. It sent another quick pain to my gut. Heartache, I guess you could call it. When would I ever see them again? Never?

---

After breakfast, I got a ride from the De Lacy's, the owners of the diner. Janel De Lacy, big-gap country gal from last night, drove me all the way to Casper.

We made it by late noon. Casper was beautiful. Not as city-like as New York, of course, but still... It was a lot more industrial than Rock Springs. And a mountain range wrapped around the town, glinting a clay-red in the sunset.

Janel dropped me off at the curb of a decent inn. I pulled out the money I owed her for the ride, but she denied it and, with a last pat on my head, she drove away. "Take care of yourself."

I'll try...

Dragging the weather-beaten chest around like Mary Poppins, I checked into the inn and got a room on the fourth level. A lot cozier than my cot back at the diner.

I plopped onto the bed and curled into the blankets for a few minutes, until I was near to falling asleep. What should I do now?

SHOPPING. Clothes. Shoes. I. Need. Them.

I wriggle out from under the sheets and composed myself, making sure I was good enough for the public. In the mirror, I combed back my hair with my fingers and rubbed out the eye crust that had gathered while I slept during the ride here. Silver hair. Purple eyes. I probably looked like a frigging witch out of Sabrina or something. Oh well. There is always a freak or two every century.

Ready to go.

Opening the latch again, I pulled out about, um, just about five hundred or so. Trying to be responsible; me plus the mall plus 100 grand... I mean, what would you do?

Outside once more, I hailed a passing taxi and told the driver to head towards the town mall.

It was only a plaza, but I surprisingly found everything that I needed. I wandered in and out of numerous stores, astounded by what females were allowed to wear nowadays. I found some stuff to my liking. Some flare jeans from Areopostle, some skinnies, sweat pants, and boot-cuts from other places that I didn't bother to check the names of. My first pairs of pants.

I also found some nice shirts- I have no idea what the hell you call them, so I'll just call them 'shirt dresses'. I bought about six of those. I bought some cheap flip-flops from Old Navy, a navy skirt, and some graphic-tees from some other store.

I sailed through the shoe shops and bought like TWENTY ballet flats and classic cowboy shoes- the closest I could get to my old, favorite Hercules's. God, I'm gonna need a whole shopping cart to carry all of this. So, yes, I bought two good-sized red suitcases.

Believe it or not, it all came up to $496.99, plus I bought a slushy from Sonic down the street. Yay for splurging! The manager dude at the serving counter said he loved my hair.

Okay, odd.

Dragging the two suitcases filled with all of my findings, I got another taxi and I rode back to the inn. The back seat was loaded. Those suitcases were no joke.

---

Back in my room, I curled up into the blankets, satisfied with all that I had done. I had gotten enough completed for the day. Oh wait, that's right- toiletries. Ugh... Too late now. Tomorrow.

Now that I was done with my errands... I was bored. I felt too restless to watch t.v., and what else do you do in an inn? My eyes fell instantly upon the chest. Did I look through all of it?

Scooting to the floor, I open the chest's latch again, and carefully removed the rest of the 25 grand. I fingered the sticky note for a minute, thinking again, "Mom and dad wrote this." and my heart griped.

Shaking the feeling away, I removed the box that had been used to contain the money. Underneath it were some of my old dresses. I pulled them out and gazed at them one by one. Jeans had nothing on my dresses. They had a timeless style. My favorite: a sporty one that cut a little above the knees. It was made out of a soft material and it was stretchy, perfect for the combat training classes I used to take back at Heaven. It had a built-in belt that was made out of a much coarser material to hold my swords.

I pulled out the other dresses; about 10 of them were packed in. They all still fit perfectly. Well, angels don't grow much after 30.

After I pulled out all of the dresses inside, there was yet another cardboard box to remove. And underneath that was a box full of jewelry. What the hell?! Outside, the chest didn't seem as deep as the tell-tale inside. What kind of Harry Potter shit is going on?!

And, no doubt, there would be more under the jewelry. But, hey, more stuff. My favorite necklace with the cross on it was in there. It was a Gothic-style necklace, a dark, rough metal encrusted with rubies and little sparkles of diamond. Another was the demon-trap necklace- you know, that little star with a circle around it? Half of the star was missing; I'm guessing it was given to my younger sibling, who I never stayed in Heaven long enough to see.

My fingers paused at one particular piece. A childhood memory.

It was a tiny heart-shaped locket, looking about rusted shut, but it opened with ease. I almost wished I hadn't. Inside was a picture of me and my best friend taken about 300 years ago. It looked like it had been taken yesterday, though- I looked exactly the same. Cas had his arm slung around me, and mine around him as we laughed in the picture. I had been around 100 at the time, Cas being a bit older. I bit my lip as tears threatened to come forward. Oh, Cas... I missed him so much. Where was he now? Would he ever find me? Well, would he?

I traced my fingernail on his distinct features. Cassie had long raven-black hair and dark, forest-green eyes that usually looked serious, but not at the moment. I remember his wings... They were a wicked-looking black. Dude was a soldier angel.

The roof of my mouth ached as I keep the tears at bay, threatening to blow up. I slipped the locket around my neck and hid it under my dress, the cold metal touching my heart. Anguish filled me, oh, it felt horrible. Why had I left? Why? WHY? Hard pangs of remorse hit me repeatedly, without mercy. Oh, to be an angel again... To never feel...

I swallowed back the crappy feeling and forced myself to finish going through the chest. I removed the next cardboard box.

Oh my.

My fingers trembled as they reached for the next items.

Drawings. Of me.

Cassie always had a good hand. About a dozen of them, sketches, watercolor, pastel, you name it, it was in my grasp at this very minute. My moods in them varied; happy, sad, indifferent, tired, or sometimes I didn't even know he was drawing me, so I was absorbed in something else in the scene. He could always catch the wrinkle in my nose when I laughed, the glint in my eye... Call it Cas being obsessive, but he always drew pictures of me in his spare time, if I was there. Dude knew how to make someone feel special...

He was always artistic, drew everything in sight. He hated self-portraits, though. So I was surprised when I spotted one of him, a head-shot worked with a precise hand, making sure to draw every single detail of emotion displayed on his face. Calm. Serene. I longed to touch his face- his real one. To run my hands across his satin, pearl-white skin... To connect with his soft pink lips and tangle my fingers in his black, black hair...

-Oh, god. Listen to me talk. Eww. I'm practically swooning over him- wait, I am swooning over him... ewww. Cas and I never reached the romantic point in our friendship, not once in the 300-and-then-some years. NEVER.

It was getting too painful to look at this all. I neatly stacked the pictures and laid them back into the chest. I had reached the bottom. Before putting away Cas' picture, I looked at it for a moment longer, torturing myself with these enigmatic emotions welled up inside.

A message on the back of the sketch caught my eye.

Micky,

I miss you... It's been, what, 200 years since I've seen you? Enough is enough. They should let you go. I just want you to know that I'll be looking. I'll search for you until I find you, and then... and then... It's been a while since I've sketched you. Ugh, pressure. I don't know what to say. Things have been different without you... uh... I haven't drawn in years... I sound like a duchebag. I warn you, though. It's dangerous where you are, so close to the Samuel Colt Devil's Trap. So close to hell... Two hundred years.... God, what a horror. Weird things have been going on down there near Utah for the past few months. I don't like it. Stay on your toes until I find you.

-Cas

7/04/08

Two months. Two months ago he wrote this. I felt so close to him... Like he wrote this just now and the ink was still wet. I clutched the sketch dearly.

I wanted him to find me... now. Anticipation and restlessness engulfed me, I wanted to move and find him too. But where? There was no physically getting to Heaven. I was a sitting duck. Crap.

I curled into a ball onto the bed, rocking back and forth, wasting potential energy. I wanted to find him, I wanted to find him, I wanted to find him... I wanted to dry the seas to see if he was hidden on the ocean floor. I wanted to snatch every angel out of Heaven and see if he was there. I wanted to... I wanted to.. I wanted to cry. But most of all, I wanted to let him know-

"I love you, Castiel," I whimpered aloud.