He nods, and leads the way, quickly and surely through a series of alleyways. Even with waiting to cross main streets until a patrol has passed, it only takes them about five minutes to make it to the centre of the compound.

The central building is slightly taller than those that surround it, and above the main door there's the same symbol the boy sketched in the air.

Castiel glances cautiously out at the street separating them from the building, and turns to face the boy. "There is a window directly above the sigil. I will make my way inside and reach it from that window. Wait here until I return, I don't want you to get hurt."

"Yes sir," the boy nods, wrapping his arms around himself, and curling in on himself. He won't move.

Castiel hesitates, moving cautiously towards the boy. "Are you... alright?"

That confuses the boy. "Yes sir?" it doesn't sound entirely certain, but that might be more because he's not used to people asking if he's alright than anything else.

"Good." He stands there, slightly awkwardly. "That is good. I will be back soon." Castiel turns to look back out at the street, only slipping across the packed dirt when the coast is clear. He disappears from the boys sight into the alley opposite him and entered the building through a side door. The halls, sterile and bright compared to the rest of the compound, are empty of people, and the only sign of life is the sound of voices from behind closed doors.

By the time he makes it to the room with the window he needs, Castiel had only run into one guard, who is now knocked out and bound in a storage room. The room itself is also empty, seemingly just another office for a higher up of the cult. The window is shut and locked, but not for long. A few moments later, Castiel is leaning precariously over the ledge, pulling out his angel blade to scratch at the paint of the sigil. He has four of the lines broken, and is working on the last, when someone on the street below walks past and sees him. The angel hears the shout and makes one final, deep scratch through the paint and into the stone before pulling back into the room and racing back down out of the building. All he needs to do now is get outside and to his charge so Castiel can finally fly them both out of this place.

Someone - possibly the one who shouted - has caught the boy by the arm and is forcibly dragging him away from where Castiel left him. Not that the boy is putting up much of a fight. His head is ducked down, and he's following obediently, flinching at the accusations being thrown at him, but not arguing.

(There's flames flickering off his fingers, wispy, barely there things that no-one seems to have noticed.)

Castiel sprints across the street back to the spot where he left his charge, only to discover he was no longer there. When he turns back onto the street, he sees a cultist, seemingly the one who had raised the alarm, dragging the boy away. Castiel chases after them, not willing to lose his charge, not when they are so close to getting away.

The boy spots him, and there's a moment of utter confusion on his face. (Why is the man bothering? He's not that important. There's guns.)

The man dragging him cuffs him sharply over the back of the head, barks for him to hurry up.

The flames around his fingers flare, up to his wrist, and the man drops his hand with a startled shout. The man pivots, and the backhand he delivers the boy knocks him from his feet.

The boy scrambles backwards, the flames flaring up around him, panicky and trying to stop them. (His body temperature has jumped up, if anyone can notice that, and there's something else as his powers flare, almost a second consciousness controlling them.)

Castiel reaches the boy just as he is knocked down onto the road, powers flaring out of control. He reaches out with both his arms and his Grace, pulling his charge away from the guards. Castiel's grace wraps around the boy's consciousness, restraining his abilities just enough to keep him from hurting himself. The angel stands up, pulling the boy up with him, and with his other hand points his angel blade at the crowd in front of them.

The boy flinches, and then goes very still again, barely even breathing. (He's confused as well, because this doesn't feel like he's managing to control his flames.)

The man who had hit him, now has a gun pointed at Castiel. "What- Who even are you?" he demands. "And I suggest you give us back what's ours. The boy," the word's spat, "isn't worth protecting anyway. He's only good for doing what he's told, when he's told." The glare directed at the boy is venomous.

Castiel stares coldly back at the man. "If you value your life, you will watch how you speak about my charge. This boy is powerful, and he needs to learn how to control and utilize his abilities in a safe environment. Not a place like this." 

That gets a derisive snort. "Your charge? Since when? Boy belongs to us. And what're you even going to do to us, huh?"

The man looks at the boy. "And you know what you should do if you know what's good for you."

He's shaking now, and mumbling quietly, not entirely consciously: "nonononono."

(He doesn't want to do whatever that order contained, but he's so scared, and he doesn't want to face the punishment he knows is coming anyway...)

Castiel frowns down at his charge, concerned, and adjusts their positions enough so the boy is standing behind Castiel before he levels another cold glare at the small crowd. "My mission is no business of yours, but this boy is under the guardianship of an angel of the lord. He will not be harmed, unless all of you wish to suffer the wrath of heaven." Castiel stands up taller, allowing a bit of his Grace to shine through his eyes and weave into his voice. 

The boy curls further down, managing to look impossibly tiny while still stood upright. He flinches at the tone, at the manner. (Isn't sure why he isn't responding to the order.)

When the man starts talking about angels and heaven, Nova starts shaking harder. (It's heresy to claim that, heresy to think that, but what if the man is? Surely he's only here to tell him that he's damned for his powers, and not having better control, andandand...)

There's a moment of hushed silence, and then a voice - not the man at the front, who is staring at Castiel in what could be mute horror - yells out: "Heresy!"

But there's fear there, a reluctance to engage, even if most of these people agree that it is heresy. A concern that they might be wrong. And: what if this man is what he says he is? There's still guns levelled at the pair, but they're lowered a little now, and no-one seems quite sure of what to do.

There is no outward response from the angel, only a terrifying glare still being leveled at the crowd. It is time, Castiel thinks, to finally get his charge out of this toxic place. Without so much as a parting threat, Castiel spreads his wings, and takes off with the boy in tow.

The crowd startles and jerks backwards.

The boy startles as well, and then goes very, very still. (He wanted to escape but he needs an opening.)

Castiel is gone before anyone has a chance to even blink, and less than a second later, they both touch down thousands of miles away from the compound. The town they land in is empty, with the almost eerily quiet air of a place that has been deserted for a long time. The buildings around them aren't crumbling, but they have most definitely seen better days. Castiel lets go of the boy and takes a step back. "Are you alright? Flying can be quite disorienting for humans the first few times."

He skitters several steps away, hunching down on himself, and wrapping his arms around himself. "Fine, sir," he says, even if it's not entirely accurate. (He is somewhat disoriented, and his movements were somewhat unsteady.)

Castiel steps towards him hesitantly, confused. "Are you are? You don't seem fine. In fact, I would have expected any human in your position to be not at all fine."

He's still for a moment, and then gives a slight shrug. "Fine as always?" That seems like a safe answer. (He doesn't know what this man wants right now, isn't entirely sure how to find out without straight up asking.)