Martyrdom (Perseides, Chapter 6 of 7)
Oct. 11th, 2012 12:37 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tikificTitle: Martyrdom (Perseides, Chapter 6 of 7)
Fandom: Supernatural
Author: tikistitch
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Dean/Cas; Sam, Bobby, Gabriel, Rufus, Balthazar, Lucifer, Michael, Zachariah, Uriel, Jody Mills, Ruby.
Warnings: Cursing. Sexual situations. Descriptions of violence, especially in later chapters. Some light hints of Sam/Ruby.
Word Count: 45,000 total
Summary: The apocalypse has come. Lucifer and Michael burned down heaven in their madness, and our own world has been rent in two. Much of the United States now roils in a state of constant warfare. When Sam, a fighter pilot working for the Michaelistas, is shot down over enemy lines, Dean, an ex-cop, risks everything to search for him. Both brothers find some help along the way from creatures they never knew existed.
Notes: This is set in a post-apocalyptic AU, but it is NOT the Endverse. The character of Al Swearengen has been shamelessly stolen, with love, from the Deadwood 'verse.
Many years ago....
Gabriel was not at the court function tonight.
No one would notice. Gabriel rarely attended court functions any more. What was the point? Getting together for meaningless rituals while outside the world burned?
He tread carefully, though. No sense in getting spotted. He sneaked through the palace, gold and silver shining everywhere. What was up with angels and all the precious metals? So tacky. Finally, to his relief, he approached the simple wooden door marked Nursery. With a final scan of the room to make sure the coast was clear, he entered.
Castiel was there, as he always was, playing silently by himself. There were no other fledglings around these days, so he was often by himself. Even for an angel, though, he was a preternaturally silent child.
Castiel looked up at Gabriel's approach, the three faces all turning around, radiating innocence. His dark little wings flapped in greeting.
Gabriel hunkered his Presence down to be nearer the young angel.
“Castiel, you and me, we're gonna go on a journey,” said Gabriel.
“Durney?”
“Yeah. We're gonna go a long way, where you've never gone before, and it'll be really exciting!”
“'Citing?” the child repeated. Three faces tilted, three pairs of eyes attended to Gabriel. His eyes were striking: green and blue and gold, like sea and sky and stars. Gabriel had always thought, left to grow, Castiel might be the most beautiful of them all. But now, he would never know.
“It'll be great,” Gabriel told him, praying the child couldn't pick out a bald faced lie yet. He picked him up. “Come on.”
He folded his three pairs of powerful wings around Castiel, and headed out. It had to be now, tonight. There weren't a whole lot of beings left up here. If he delayed any more, somehow they'd drag Castiel into the mess, make him choose a side, even if he didn't really understand. How could he?
How could anybody?
Being careful to avoid the many fires that raged over the once glorious land, Gabriel took them to a small clearing in the shadow of the palace, away from anyone who might still be paying attention. Looking around again to make certain they weren't being observed, Gabriel set Castiel down on the ground in front of him and then crouched so they could be at eye level.
“Now, you need to watch me, and do what I do. OK?”
Three solemn faces nodded.
“Now, concentrate your grace, like this....”
And when it was done, it was done. And they were everywhere, for a time. And then they were nowhere. And then they were both hurtling through space, Gabriel clutching Castiel tightly to his heart, seeking out their new home.
The clearing was silent.
And then a small flicker of movement, as a solitary figure who had been watching turned and strode back to the palace.
The present day....
Years ago, Dean remembered, when Sammy was just little, they lived in a house – one of the many foster families – where bats had come to infest the attic. You could stand outside at a certain time of the evening, and suddenly the dark sky would come alive with flickering shadows across the stars, and the soft sounds of flight.
It was like that tonight, the moving darkness of winged beings, arriving in such numbers. Dean felt a chill. Angels – so many angels.
“Cas! We gotta go,” said Gabe.
“No,” said Cas, who had already slid off the hood of the Impala and started walking to the clearing where they had begun to alight. “They are our brothers.”
“Little idiot,” grumbled Gabe, who hastened after Cas. Sam and Dean followed, and Dean saw that Ellen had come out as well.
“Hey, wait, I know this guy!” said Sam, who was pointing to one of the angels. “Balthazar!” he hailed. The angel, who had been chatting quietly with some of his fellows, perked up at the sound of Sam's voice. He broke away from the other angels and strode over. He was a tall good-looking guy who just happened to have a really fucking huge pair of hay-colored wings sprouting from his back.
“Sam!” said Balthazar. He immediately grabbed Sam in an embrace, the wings folding around him too. “Oh, God, Sam! You're alive!” he said, now drawing back and holding Sam's face in his hands. “I can't tell you how grateful I am to see you alive!”
“It's all good. I'm fine,” said Sam. “Hey, this is my brother, Dean.”
“It is an honor to meet you!” said Balthazar, eagerly shaking his hand. Dean looked around. Some of the angels still hovered in flight, but a big group of them had landed. They were breathtaking sight, fluffing and fluttering great eight foot spans of wing. Even in the dim light he could see the riot of colors, some had wings as white as a dove, some dark as night, some mottled and speckles and even iridescent. A patch of heaven, rolled out on earth.
“And here's Ellen and Jo,” Sam was saying, cheerfully ignoring the splendor around him to be a good host. “And Cas. And Gabe! Oh, maybe you guys have met...”
But Balthazar had stopped shaking hands. He paused in front of Gabe and, to Dean's astonishment, went down on one knee in front of him. He took out a sword – he didn't seem to have been carrying it before, it just kind of appeared – and laid it at Gabe's feet.
“Gabriel. My liege,” said Balthazar.
Gabe looked incredibly flustered. “Look, that ain’t necessary, Balthazar. Seriously!” he said.
“You don’t know what it means to me to find you here,” said Balthazar. “To all of us.” He seemed near tears.
“Balthazar!” scolded Gabe. He reached down and pulled the other man to his feet. “This is not necessary. I left that gig. I’m just a regular guy now. Just like you.”
Balthazar was now standing with his hand over his heart. “We thought you were dead.”
“I am dead. I mean, I might as well be. I left all that behind. My family, all that crap. I’m just Gabe, now. And this is my bone-headed kid brother, Castiel,” said Gabe, hooking an elbow over a very confused looking Cas’ shoulders.
“Castiel!” said Balthazar. “You were only a fledgling when I knew you.” He put a hand to Cas' face, not quit touching, as if he were afraid to believe.
“OK. Gabe, what is going on?” demanded Dean.
“Yes, what is going on, Gabriel?” asked Castiel quietly. There were now a few other angels who had broken off from the main pack and wandered over to witness.
“This is our lost prince,” said Balthazar. “Our archangel, Gabriel.”
“Wait. Him?” asked Dean. Gabe glared at him.
“Our royal family: we thought they had all died, save Michael and Lucifer,” Balthazar explained.
“Why are you back, Balthazar?” asked Sam, partly to change the subject.
Balthazar nodded. “There is a train full of our kin heading to a death camp, even as we speak. Lucifer would exterminate my people. I have rallied what brothers and sisters we could.”
“You're gonna stop the train?” asked Dean.
“Yes, and liberate our brethren,” said Balthazar.
“Come with us, Gabriel,” said one of the angels who had been listening in.
“I don't do the heroics stuff any more,” said Gabriel, waving his hands. “Look, Balthazar, you're better off without me. Lucifer doesn't know about me. If he gets wind that I'm still alive and flapping, the hammer's gonna come down, but good.”
“I'll go,” said Cas.
“What?” asked Gabe.
“What?” echoed Dean.
“Thank you, Castiel,” said Balthazar, bowing low. Several of the other angels made graceful bows as well.
“Anything I can do for you guys, now that you're on my front doorstep?” asked Ellen.
“This is a sanctuary, of a sort?” asked Balthazar.
“Of a sort,” cracked Jo. “It's a bar!”
“Then can I trouble you breathtaking ladies for a drink?” laughed Balthazar.
“On me,” said Ellen heading off with Balthazar and some of the other angels.
“Ever wanted to work as a barmaid?” Jo asked Sam, grabbing his arm.
“Not particularly,” Sam laughed, but he followed Ellen and Balthazar into the bar.
“Kid,” said Gabe, grabbing Cas' wrist and pulling him away. “We gotta talk.”
“About what, Gabe?” grumbled Cas, glaring at his brother.
Dean crowded around as well, remembering with a sinking feeling another similar conversation he’d had a year or so ago.
“I have no fucking idea what idealistic notions are buzzing through your idiot brain right now,” said Gabe. “but let me tell you, you are not a soldier!”
“I thought we were all warriors of the Lord,” Cas told him.
“You work salvage!” said Gabe.
“Do these people look like soldiers to you?” Cas asked.
Dean looked around to the group of angels gathered in the fields near Harvelle’s. Now that his initial shock had worn off, and he could see past the magnificent wings, he had to agree with Cas. There was a certain look you get, whether law enforcement or professional soldier. And these angels did not look like warriors. In fact, without the wings, Dean wondered if he would have noticed them two weeks ago if he’d bumped into them in the grocery store.
“No, they don’t,” said Gabe soberly. “That’s what I’m worried about. They’re headed into a slaughter.”
“There is a train, loaded with innocents, that is headed for slaughter! Right now, Gabe!” Cas told him.
“Cas-“
“I am needed! You are needed as well!” Cas scolded.
“Castiel! Could we speak with you?” A group of angels had shyly approached them. Casting a last glare at Gabe, Cas stalked off with them.
“If it makes you feel any better, Gabe,” said Dean. “I had almost the same conversation a while back.”
“How did it go?” asked Gabe.
“About the same. Lousy.”
“I could keep him here. I could stop him.”
“But you won’t.”
Gabe looked at Dean. He didn't say anything. He didn't need to: his expression said it all.
Sam was waiting tables for angels. Although they weren’t technically sitting at tables, since they were still mostly arrayed in the fields outside.
Jo had handed him a milk crate filled with beer bottles and told him to do a round. Angels drank beer! It was wonderful. Everything was wonderful. Everything that had ever happened in his life before was wonderful.
“Nothing for me thanks,” said a familiar voice. Sam squinted at the pale, dark winged angel standing in front of him.
“Cas?”
At some point, Cas had removed his jacket and shirt and extended a broad pair of dark-feathered wings. And it had transformed him from a somewhat gawky kid to … this extraordinary creature.
“Is everything all right, Sam?” asked Cas.
“You’re so beautiful, Cas,” babbled Sam. “Everyone is so beautiful. Oh, that came out … weird.”
“Sammy?” asked Dean, who had just come around with Jo. “What the hell?”
“He looks blissed out,” laughed Jo.
“Some people are more affected than others by the sight of our wings,” Cas told them, giving his pair a good shake for emphasis. “They are a manifestation of our magic.”
“He’s coocoo for angelpuffs?” said Dean, grabbing away a woozy Sam’s crate of beers.
“Something like that,” said Cas. He snapped his fingers in front of Sam’s face, but Sam didn't blink.
“I’m giving beer to angels!” said Sam.
“That’s nice Sammy,” laughed Dean.
“You may have noticed, even the wings … in that camp,” Cas said. “They still contain elements of our Presence.”
“Is that why Lucifer was collecting them, Cas?” asked Dean.
Cas nodded. “That might be part of his intent. Of course, that is nothing compared to the power of our true visages. For those of us who are still angelkind.”
“You don’t have a true form any more, right?”
“No, I have given up that power for this body. Humans may find the true visage of an angel … troubling,” said Cas. “Many humans, when confronted with my brothers and sisters in their true form, can find their eyes burned out, their eardrums burst, or some go completely insane.”
“That doesn’t sound pleasant,” said Dean.
“No,” said Cas. “Uh, Sam, while I do not mind you, uh, stroking my wings, it is usually customary to ask first?”
“They’re so soft,” said Sam, who had two hands full of dark feathers and a blissed out look on his face.
“OK. Sammy? This is not an angel petting zoo,” laughed Dean, grabbing his brother and pulling him back.
“So soft,” repeated Sam.
“Come on, no molesting the angel,” said Dean.
“That’s your job, huh?” Jo asked Dean, and Dean shot her a grumpy look.
“Sam’s reaction is a bit out of the ordinary. It might be because there are so many of us, gathered together,” said Cas, who was peering intently at Sam.
“I’ll get him inside,” laughed Jo. “Don’t wanna see him humping anybody’s leg. Come on, you! Dean, would you see the brewskis are distributed?”
Dean nodded, setting down the milk crate. He took out two beers and handed one to Cas.
“I didn’t want-“ Cas started, but Dean waved the bottle, so Cas took it.
“A last drink,” said Dean, popping the top off his bottle, and clinking it with Cas’.
“Dean,” said Cas. “I’m sorry.”
“What are you sorry about?”
“I don’t know. I just….”
“Look, I had this same fucking conversation a while back. With my brother. And that went over like Vietnam. So, I’m gonna try not to blow it this time.” Cas was staring at him, so he continued. “You’re gonna do a brave thing. Brave and really, really stupid. And I wish you wouldn’t. Because….” Dean trailed off. “But if you didn’t do it, I guess you wouldn’t be the person you are. And I think I’m in love with you or something. Boy, talk about things coming out weird.”
Cas didn’t reply, but just stepped forward and kissed Dean. And he did the thing where he wrapped the wings around him too. Which made Dean feel like how he felt that time in high school when he’d downed an entire bottle of vodka at a go. Well, how he felt before he started to throw up.
“Um. Since you're royal and all that shit, should we be making out?” Dean muttered as they broke he embrace. Cas broke into a broad grin. And Dean found his heart was about to shatter.
“Come back,” said Dean. “Just…. Come back. OK?”
They flew faster than Sam had expected. Much faster. An angel in a hurry was less like a bird and more like a jet fighter.
“A flock of angels,” he said. “Damn. This is just fucking amazing.”
“Remember it. You’re probably not gonna see it again,” sighed Gabe.
“He’ll be OK, Gabe,” said Dean.
“He’ll get his fucking wings sawed off,” said Gabe.
“Let’s keep a happy thought,” grumbled Dean. They watched the angels turn to a dark cloud, and the cloud disappear.
Sam heard dogs barking. Not dogs, hellhounds. “Crowley?” he asked.
“Well, what do you know? Start my day with angels, and now it’s demons,” said Ellen. Sam looked over to where she was heading. He recognized two people, Crowley and Rufus, and of course Crowley’s monstrous hellhounds. They were escorting a third figure, who also looked strangely familiar.
“Rufus?” hollered Ellen. She jogged the last few steps and warmly embraced Rufus. “Well I’ll be god damned,” she grinned.
“Haha, nice to see you Ellen!” laughed Rufus, who was now shaking Sam’s hand. “I had no idea your place was still standing after all that’s happened.”
“Harvelle's is gonna stand ‘til the end of time,” said Ellen proudly.
“You will forgive me for not coming in any closer, but the truth is, I can’t come in any closer,” said Crowley.
“That’s on purpose, demon,” warned Ellen.
“Yes, and thanks for that,” sighed Crowley. “But I had reports you have a little lost archangel or two in your midst.”
“How the hell did you hear that?” demanded Gabe.
“I have my sources,” said Crowley, smiling mysteriously. “And I thought perhaps he could do something about straightening out the head of my newest guest.” Crowley indicated the man he was currently holding by the shoulder.
“Frank?” asked Sam, who had finally recognized him. “Is that you?”
Frank looked up. Sam gasped. Behind the thick glasses, his eyes appeared milky, covered by cataracts.
“Frank!” said Sam. “Frank! What happened to you?”
“Who is he, Sam?” asked Dean.
“Another prisoner,” said Rufus. “We used him for forgery.”
“He made my IDs, and my train tickets,” said Sam. “He was a paranoid bastard. Frank?” asked Sam.
Suddenly, Frank was grasping Sam by the shoulders. “Who is like God?” he demanded.
“What?” asked Sam. “Uh, God? God is God?”
“Who is like God?” asked Frank, the unseeing eyes staring.
“All we can get is Biblical babbling,” said Crowley. “Not exactly my speciality.”
“Do you think … Lucifer did this to him?” asked Dean.
“He would seem the logical suspect,” said Crowley. “Burnt eyes and scrambled brains generally equals grumpy archangel.”
“He fought the dragon!” blurted Frank.
“Wait a damn minute,” said Gabe. “Frank,” he said, dragging Frank away from Sam. He put a hand on his forehead.
“A great prince will arise!” Frank told him. Gabe stared for a moment into Frank's sightless eyes.
“Michael?” asked Gabe.
“He fights the dragon! With his angels.” And then Frank clutched his burned eyes and moaned, collapsing to the ground, where Sam and Rufus caught him by the arms.
“Frank, this is very important!” said Gabe, who was now down on his knees in front of Frank. “Did you see my brother? Did you see Michael?”
“The time of the End,” Frank whimpered. “He will arise.”
“I don’t think he saw Lucifer. I think he saw Michael,” said Gabriel.
“But I thought no one saw Michael?” said Sam.
“Exactly. No one sees Michael,” said Crowley.
“Not for years,” said Gabe. “Ellen?”
“Oh please don’t tell me you wanna do another stinky location spell!” said Ellen. She sighed. “Come on!”
Dean frowned at his cards.
“Fuck. I'm out,” he grumbled, tossing them down on the table.
“He really is rather terrible, isn't he?” asked Crowley, leaning back and studying his own hand.
“Told you,” said Sam.
“Don't get too comfortable, demon,” Ellen scolded Crowley, kicking his chair back up to vertical. “All those warding signs are going back up tomorrow.”
“Yes, and I deeply appreciate your kind if temporary hospitality, Mrs. Harvelle,” said Crowley, who did not appear flustered.
“So what's the deal with Lucifer?” asked Dean.
“Just a run of the mill spoiled brat, from what I understand,” said Crowley.
“But he's committing genocide against the other angels!” said Sam. “Isn't that a little extreme?”
“To Lucy, those might not seem like angels,” mused Rufus. “They have to give up part of their power to grow a human body.”
“But that's not what Lucifer does?” asked Sam.
“Oh, hell no,” said Rufus. “He kept his true form. If you see him, he's walking around in a meatsuit. No different than our friend Crowley over here.”
“I’d say I’m a great deal different from Lucifer,” snorted Crowley.
“So, angels can possess people?” asked Sam.
“Yes, but not just anyone,” said Crowley. “There are rules.”
“Yes, because it's angels, there are whole books of rules,” said Rufus. “Fussy ass bastards. One can only inhabit vessels in a certain bloodlines.”
“Bloodlines? Sounds more like vampires than angels,” grumbled Dean.
“Or breeding dogs,” said Sam.
“What do you really think you look like to an angel?” said Crowley. Sam frowned.
“Actually,” said Rufus. “There's even tales that they will intervene in human mating to make sure they have the right bodies around.”
“OK, angels?” said Dean. “That's some weird ass shit.”
“I personally could not agree more,” laughed Crowley.
“Gabe? What's up?” asked Ellen. Gabriel had just come into the barroom where he sat himself at the table.
“Gabe?” asked Dean, pushing a beer over in front of the angel. Gabe picked it up and wordlessly downed it.
“What the hell, Gabe?” asked Sam. Everyone was now staring at him.
“Michael,” stuttered Gabe. “Michael is-” But he never completed the sentence, as he pitched forward on the table.
“Gabe!” said Dean, jumping up and running around to him. “Whoa, he's out,” he told Sam.
“Uh, Dean,” said Sam.
“What?”
“Look around.”
Dean looked up from Gabe's unconscious body. Everybody in the bar: Rufus, Ellen, Jo, even Crowley, were now zonked out. “What the hell is going on now, Sammy?”
And then the lights flickered. Dean jumped as the light over the table hissed and burst in a soft tinkle of glass.
“Uh, nothing good, Dean,” said Sam. More lights popped and crackled, until the room had sunken into darkness.
There was a huge flash of light outside, like ball lightning.
And then the front door creaked open. A single, slim figure was silhouetted there.
Dean had already drawn his sidearm, even though he realized it would probably do no good. “Who the hell are you?” he demanded.
“Who do you think I am?” came the answer. There was something very familiar about the voice. The figure walked casually towards Dean and Sam, seemingly unhurried.
A panel of moonlight shown through the front window. The man walked into the patch of light, and Dean gasped.
“What is it?” asked Sam.
“Dad?” croaked Dean.
It was the spitting image of John Winchester. But not, Dean instantly realized, his father as he would look today. He had not a wrinkle on his face. This was the father he remembered from almost two decades ago, not changed nor grayed in the least.
“You probably realize that I am not John Winchester, although I bear his body,” said the man.
“Michael,” whispered Sam, who sunk back into a chair and then collapsed, along with the others, over the card table.
“Sammy? You OK?” Dean edged over, and put a hand on Sam's back.
“Your brother is all right. My presence is overwhelming to him. He is very … sensitive to angelic magic,” said Michael.
“Why are you here?” asked Dean. “Did you put everyone to sleep?”
“I bear an important message,” warned Michael. “So you will listen. Your brother is in danger.”
“Sammy? Why?”
“The Winchester family is very important. Very special. That is why I have kept myself hidden for many years. I did not want this secret to get out. I could not have Lucifer know about you boys.”
“What about us?” asked Dean.
“Our vessels are everything to us: our earthly sword and shield. John Winchester is my rightful vessel. If anything should happen to him, his son could serve in my stead.”
“Sammy?”
“No, Dean.”
Dean paused a beat. “What? Oh hell, no! I'm not anybody's goddam meat puppet!”
Michael smirked. “It won't be necessary. As your father already volunteered in your stead.”
“Jesus,” said Dean.
“Also had nothing to do with it,” chuckled Michael.
“That’s…. That’s what happened to Dad? All those years ago? And you couldn’t leave a fucking note?” said Dean, his voice going up in fury.
“It was a small concern in the grand scheme of things,” tutted Michael.
“A small concern? We were orphaned, you dumb bastard!”
“Silence!” growled Michael, who suddenly seemed to grow bigger. It was like there was an electricity around him. “Harken to me. Your brother is pivotal. For he is the true sword of Lucifer.”
“Sammy is.... Oh, fuck. No!” said Dean
“Up until now, my brother has been kept in the dark about this. However, thanks to my meddling younger brother's clumsy spellcasting,” said Michael, casting a glower at the sleeping form of Gabe, “the host now knows of my vessel. And we must assume Lucifer has become aware of Samuel Winchester's importance.”
“So you knew about Gabe?” asked Dean.
“Of course. I'm the one who let the idiot take off with Castiel. The removed themselves from my chessboard long ago. They are of no further consequence.”
Dean wanted to shove a consequence up this guy's ass, but instead, something occurred to him. “Wait, if Lucifer's supposed to be riding Sammy, what the hell is he doing now?”
“He has been exploiting a number of … substandard vessels. Generally, they have not proved satisfactory after a year or so. And the current one is nearly worn out.”
“They … get sick?”
“Generally, they explode.”
“Oh, gross!” said Dean.
Michael snickered. Dean shook his head.
“That's amusing,” said Michael. “You are now thinking I am something called a 'douche bag.' Imagine what I must think of an uppity human who places his grubby hands all over my younger brother,” he sneered.
“And you're the good guy,” countered Dean.
“Good or bad. Much along those lines went out the door when my Father left.”
“And He liked Lucifer better, right?” taunted Dean.
“Silence!”
“You wanna shut me up, huh? Well, look, Mike. Me? I'm getting a little annoyed with you feathery types splattering your family issues all over creation. And I am really sick of you guys dragging in my family and my friends.”
“You mean to tell me what to do you insignificant little maggot?”
“Sticks and stones, Mike. How about this, before you smear the world with more of your family shit, why don't you go hash things out with your brother and fucking end it yourself?”
Michael was in Dean's face, staring him down. He hadn't exactly moved, he was just suddenly there.
Dean steeled himself and glared back.
And then Michael was in the doorway. “I will handle my own family issues. Keep your brother the fuck away from Lucifer.”
There was a soft rustle of wings, and he was gone.
And Dean was left, sweat dripping down his forehead.
“Goddammit!” Crowley had already leapt to his feet and was looking around. “I've been magicked. What the fuck happened?”
The others were moaning and rousing as well. Gabriel jumped up and ran to the door, looking out. “My brother! Was my brother here?”
“Your brother,” said Dean shakily, “Is a giant douche.”
“Yeah. That sounds like Michael,” sighed Gabriel.
“I thought I had the place warded against something like that,” sighed Ellen. “Goddammit. Jo, do we have replacement light bulbs anywhere?” she added, staring sadly at the darkened ceiling.
“What did my bastard brother want?” asked Gabe.
Dean cast a worried glance at his brother. “Sammy,” he said, “we gotta get you out of here. Now.”
Combat was nothing like what Cas had expected.
He had taken on demons before, alone, in the desert. He had gone up against them two and three at a time.
But here they were everywhere around. And Dean was right, the other angels, they were brave and strong, but they were not warriors. He had spent the last part of the last couple of hours, silver sword in hand, trying to keep his brethren out of trouble.
But now, out of the pain and chaos, there was hope. The tide turned.
Victory was at hand.
Cas was bloodied and battered and bruised, but, unlike some of his comrades, was still able to stand and to fly and most of all to fight. He watched the last of the demons fleeing, saw the last skirmishes, heard the scattered cheers go up. But he had a strange feeling, something gnawing in the pit of his human stomach.
He broke off from the main group and circled down to where the train had halted on the tracks. It was the train Sam Winchester and Balthazar had witnessed at the station, the train with the strange, silent passengers.
The passengers.
Where were they?
The unsettled feeling boiled over now. “Balthazar,” Cas cried, not using his human voice, but the angelic voice in his head, the one he was still learning about. He knew so little about angels. He alit, and strode up to a train car, using his magic to throw the door open.
“Castiel?” asked Balthazar. He and some of his lieutenants had just come in for a landing. “What's going on?”
Cas ripped open another car. “The passengers, Balthazar. Where are the passengers?”
Balthazar looked in confusion. “There were people here! Just now!”
Cas had him by the shoulders. “Balthazar! We need to get out of here! Pull everybody out! Now! This is a trap!”
But both angels looked up.
The sky darkened.
“You sassed my brother? And he didn't turn you into a bug?” asked Gabe.
They sat around the barroom, watching as Sam and Jo slowly replaced all the burned out light bulbs.
“I'm immune Gabe,” sighed Dean. “Turns out I'm his spare meatsuit, if our dad ever springs a leak.”
“This all sounds fairly amusing,” said Crowley. “I regret sitting it out.”
“Yeah, I'm glad the bastard knocked me out,” grumbled Gabriel. “I always hated that guy.”
“Our father. And I slept through it,” said Sam from high atop a ladder.
“It wasn't really our dad, Sammy. Not really,” Dean told him. “It was weird. Like watching a freaky puppet show. Or those freaky statues at Disney World.”
“Yeah, you wouldn't see me in one of those vessels. Creepy business,” said Gabe, who shivered.
“Dean, what do we do about your brother?” asked Rufus.
“Hey! I'm standing right here!” yelled Sam.
“You need to get your brother some place safe,” said Ellen. “And my place,” she continued, waving her arm at the shattered lights. “It's obviously not safe any more.”
“Back to Bobby's?” Dean asked. “That's a couple days drive.”
“I'll take him,” said Gabe. “Cas wasn't your only winged buddy, remember?”
“But how long will that work?” asked Rufus. “You say your friend Bobby is paranoid....” Dean nodded. It was a temporary move, he knew. Take Sam to No Man's Land, and then to the West, and then what? Where would Lucifer stop?
“Hey boss!” said Asmodeus, who had just popped up in the barroom.
“Oh, crap!” said Ellen. “I removed the warding for you, Crowley! This isn't a demon bar.”
“Apologize to the nice barkeep for being rude, Asmodeus,” said Crowley.
“Uh, sorry?” said Asmodeus.
“Good, now how is our little prophet?” asked Crowley.
“Frank? That's why I'm here,” said Asmodeus. “He went nuts a little while back. We finally got him settled down.”
“Yes, because Michael decided to share with us his angelic presence,” said Crowley.
“Michael?” said Asmodeus. “Whoa.”
“What do we do about Lucifer?” asked Dean. “Does anybody have any ideas?”
“There's just not much we can do, son,” said Ellen sympathetically. “You've seen what a fully loaded angel can do.”
“No!” shouted Gabe, who had jumped up, holding his ears.
“Gabe! What is it now?” asked Dean.
Gabe rested his hands on the table, breathing hard. “They’ve got him,” he whispered. “They’ve got Cas.”
“Now, Gabe, calm down,” said Dean. “It might be-“
“No,” said Gabe, tears streaming down his face. “I heard him. I heard him screaming.”
Fandom: Supernatural
Author: tikistitch
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Dean/Cas; Sam, Bobby, Gabriel, Rufus, Balthazar, Lucifer, Michael, Zachariah, Uriel, Jody Mills, Ruby.
Warnings: Cursing. Sexual situations. Descriptions of violence, especially in later chapters. Some light hints of Sam/Ruby.
Word Count: 45,000 total
Summary: The apocalypse has come. Lucifer and Michael burned down heaven in their madness, and our own world has been rent in two. Much of the United States now roils in a state of constant warfare. When Sam, a fighter pilot working for the Michaelistas, is shot down over enemy lines, Dean, an ex-cop, risks everything to search for him. Both brothers find some help along the way from creatures they never knew existed.
Notes: This is set in a post-apocalyptic AU, but it is NOT the Endverse. The character of Al Swearengen has been shamelessly stolen, with love, from the Deadwood 'verse.
Many years ago....
Gabriel was not at the court function tonight.
No one would notice. Gabriel rarely attended court functions any more. What was the point? Getting together for meaningless rituals while outside the world burned?
He tread carefully, though. No sense in getting spotted. He sneaked through the palace, gold and silver shining everywhere. What was up with angels and all the precious metals? So tacky. Finally, to his relief, he approached the simple wooden door marked Nursery. With a final scan of the room to make sure the coast was clear, he entered.
Castiel was there, as he always was, playing silently by himself. There were no other fledglings around these days, so he was often by himself. Even for an angel, though, he was a preternaturally silent child.
Castiel looked up at Gabriel's approach, the three faces all turning around, radiating innocence. His dark little wings flapped in greeting.
Gabriel hunkered his Presence down to be nearer the young angel.
“Castiel, you and me, we're gonna go on a journey,” said Gabriel.
“Durney?”
“Yeah. We're gonna go a long way, where you've never gone before, and it'll be really exciting!”
“'Citing?” the child repeated. Three faces tilted, three pairs of eyes attended to Gabriel. His eyes were striking: green and blue and gold, like sea and sky and stars. Gabriel had always thought, left to grow, Castiel might be the most beautiful of them all. But now, he would never know.
“It'll be great,” Gabriel told him, praying the child couldn't pick out a bald faced lie yet. He picked him up. “Come on.”
He folded his three pairs of powerful wings around Castiel, and headed out. It had to be now, tonight. There weren't a whole lot of beings left up here. If he delayed any more, somehow they'd drag Castiel into the mess, make him choose a side, even if he didn't really understand. How could he?
How could anybody?
Being careful to avoid the many fires that raged over the once glorious land, Gabriel took them to a small clearing in the shadow of the palace, away from anyone who might still be paying attention. Looking around again to make certain they weren't being observed, Gabriel set Castiel down on the ground in front of him and then crouched so they could be at eye level.
“Now, you need to watch me, and do what I do. OK?”
Three solemn faces nodded.
“Now, concentrate your grace, like this....”
And when it was done, it was done. And they were everywhere, for a time. And then they were nowhere. And then they were both hurtling through space, Gabriel clutching Castiel tightly to his heart, seeking out their new home.
The clearing was silent.
And then a small flicker of movement, as a solitary figure who had been watching turned and strode back to the palace.
The present day....
Years ago, Dean remembered, when Sammy was just little, they lived in a house – one of the many foster families – where bats had come to infest the attic. You could stand outside at a certain time of the evening, and suddenly the dark sky would come alive with flickering shadows across the stars, and the soft sounds of flight.
It was like that tonight, the moving darkness of winged beings, arriving in such numbers. Dean felt a chill. Angels – so many angels.
“Cas! We gotta go,” said Gabe.
“No,” said Cas, who had already slid off the hood of the Impala and started walking to the clearing where they had begun to alight. “They are our brothers.”
“Little idiot,” grumbled Gabe, who hastened after Cas. Sam and Dean followed, and Dean saw that Ellen had come out as well.
“Hey, wait, I know this guy!” said Sam, who was pointing to one of the angels. “Balthazar!” he hailed. The angel, who had been chatting quietly with some of his fellows, perked up at the sound of Sam's voice. He broke away from the other angels and strode over. He was a tall good-looking guy who just happened to have a really fucking huge pair of hay-colored wings sprouting from his back.
“Sam!” said Balthazar. He immediately grabbed Sam in an embrace, the wings folding around him too. “Oh, God, Sam! You're alive!” he said, now drawing back and holding Sam's face in his hands. “I can't tell you how grateful I am to see you alive!”
“It's all good. I'm fine,” said Sam. “Hey, this is my brother, Dean.”
“It is an honor to meet you!” said Balthazar, eagerly shaking his hand. Dean looked around. Some of the angels still hovered in flight, but a big group of them had landed. They were breathtaking sight, fluffing and fluttering great eight foot spans of wing. Even in the dim light he could see the riot of colors, some had wings as white as a dove, some dark as night, some mottled and speckles and even iridescent. A patch of heaven, rolled out on earth.
“And here's Ellen and Jo,” Sam was saying, cheerfully ignoring the splendor around him to be a good host. “And Cas. And Gabe! Oh, maybe you guys have met...”
But Balthazar had stopped shaking hands. He paused in front of Gabe and, to Dean's astonishment, went down on one knee in front of him. He took out a sword – he didn't seem to have been carrying it before, it just kind of appeared – and laid it at Gabe's feet.
“Gabriel. My liege,” said Balthazar.
Gabe looked incredibly flustered. “Look, that ain’t necessary, Balthazar. Seriously!” he said.
“You don’t know what it means to me to find you here,” said Balthazar. “To all of us.” He seemed near tears.
“Balthazar!” scolded Gabe. He reached down and pulled the other man to his feet. “This is not necessary. I left that gig. I’m just a regular guy now. Just like you.”
Balthazar was now standing with his hand over his heart. “We thought you were dead.”
“I am dead. I mean, I might as well be. I left all that behind. My family, all that crap. I’m just Gabe, now. And this is my bone-headed kid brother, Castiel,” said Gabe, hooking an elbow over a very confused looking Cas’ shoulders.
“Castiel!” said Balthazar. “You were only a fledgling when I knew you.” He put a hand to Cas' face, not quit touching, as if he were afraid to believe.
“OK. Gabe, what is going on?” demanded Dean.
“Yes, what is going on, Gabriel?” asked Castiel quietly. There were now a few other angels who had broken off from the main pack and wandered over to witness.
“This is our lost prince,” said Balthazar. “Our archangel, Gabriel.”
“Wait. Him?” asked Dean. Gabe glared at him.
“Our royal family: we thought they had all died, save Michael and Lucifer,” Balthazar explained.
“Why are you back, Balthazar?” asked Sam, partly to change the subject.
Balthazar nodded. “There is a train full of our kin heading to a death camp, even as we speak. Lucifer would exterminate my people. I have rallied what brothers and sisters we could.”
“You're gonna stop the train?” asked Dean.
“Yes, and liberate our brethren,” said Balthazar.
“Come with us, Gabriel,” said one of the angels who had been listening in.
“I don't do the heroics stuff any more,” said Gabriel, waving his hands. “Look, Balthazar, you're better off without me. Lucifer doesn't know about me. If he gets wind that I'm still alive and flapping, the hammer's gonna come down, but good.”
“I'll go,” said Cas.
“What?” asked Gabe.
“What?” echoed Dean.
“Thank you, Castiel,” said Balthazar, bowing low. Several of the other angels made graceful bows as well.
“Anything I can do for you guys, now that you're on my front doorstep?” asked Ellen.
“This is a sanctuary, of a sort?” asked Balthazar.
“Of a sort,” cracked Jo. “It's a bar!”
“Then can I trouble you breathtaking ladies for a drink?” laughed Balthazar.
“On me,” said Ellen heading off with Balthazar and some of the other angels.
“Ever wanted to work as a barmaid?” Jo asked Sam, grabbing his arm.
“Not particularly,” Sam laughed, but he followed Ellen and Balthazar into the bar.
“Kid,” said Gabe, grabbing Cas' wrist and pulling him away. “We gotta talk.”
“About what, Gabe?” grumbled Cas, glaring at his brother.
Dean crowded around as well, remembering with a sinking feeling another similar conversation he’d had a year or so ago.
“I have no fucking idea what idealistic notions are buzzing through your idiot brain right now,” said Gabe. “but let me tell you, you are not a soldier!”
“I thought we were all warriors of the Lord,” Cas told him.
“You work salvage!” said Gabe.
“Do these people look like soldiers to you?” Cas asked.
Dean looked around to the group of angels gathered in the fields near Harvelle’s. Now that his initial shock had worn off, and he could see past the magnificent wings, he had to agree with Cas. There was a certain look you get, whether law enforcement or professional soldier. And these angels did not look like warriors. In fact, without the wings, Dean wondered if he would have noticed them two weeks ago if he’d bumped into them in the grocery store.
“No, they don’t,” said Gabe soberly. “That’s what I’m worried about. They’re headed into a slaughter.”
“There is a train, loaded with innocents, that is headed for slaughter! Right now, Gabe!” Cas told him.
“Cas-“
“I am needed! You are needed as well!” Cas scolded.
“Castiel! Could we speak with you?” A group of angels had shyly approached them. Casting a last glare at Gabe, Cas stalked off with them.
“If it makes you feel any better, Gabe,” said Dean. “I had almost the same conversation a while back.”
“How did it go?” asked Gabe.
“About the same. Lousy.”
“I could keep him here. I could stop him.”
“But you won’t.”
Gabe looked at Dean. He didn't say anything. He didn't need to: his expression said it all.
Sam was waiting tables for angels. Although they weren’t technically sitting at tables, since they were still mostly arrayed in the fields outside.
Jo had handed him a milk crate filled with beer bottles and told him to do a round. Angels drank beer! It was wonderful. Everything was wonderful. Everything that had ever happened in his life before was wonderful.
“Nothing for me thanks,” said a familiar voice. Sam squinted at the pale, dark winged angel standing in front of him.
“Cas?”
At some point, Cas had removed his jacket and shirt and extended a broad pair of dark-feathered wings. And it had transformed him from a somewhat gawky kid to … this extraordinary creature.
“Is everything all right, Sam?” asked Cas.
“You’re so beautiful, Cas,” babbled Sam. “Everyone is so beautiful. Oh, that came out … weird.”
“Sammy?” asked Dean, who had just come around with Jo. “What the hell?”
“He looks blissed out,” laughed Jo.
“Some people are more affected than others by the sight of our wings,” Cas told them, giving his pair a good shake for emphasis. “They are a manifestation of our magic.”
“He’s coocoo for angelpuffs?” said Dean, grabbing away a woozy Sam’s crate of beers.
“Something like that,” said Cas. He snapped his fingers in front of Sam’s face, but Sam didn't blink.
“I’m giving beer to angels!” said Sam.
“That’s nice Sammy,” laughed Dean.
“You may have noticed, even the wings … in that camp,” Cas said. “They still contain elements of our Presence.”
“Is that why Lucifer was collecting them, Cas?” asked Dean.
Cas nodded. “That might be part of his intent. Of course, that is nothing compared to the power of our true visages. For those of us who are still angelkind.”
“You don’t have a true form any more, right?”
“No, I have given up that power for this body. Humans may find the true visage of an angel … troubling,” said Cas. “Many humans, when confronted with my brothers and sisters in their true form, can find their eyes burned out, their eardrums burst, or some go completely insane.”
“That doesn’t sound pleasant,” said Dean.
“No,” said Cas. “Uh, Sam, while I do not mind you, uh, stroking my wings, it is usually customary to ask first?”
“They’re so soft,” said Sam, who had two hands full of dark feathers and a blissed out look on his face.
“OK. Sammy? This is not an angel petting zoo,” laughed Dean, grabbing his brother and pulling him back.
“So soft,” repeated Sam.
“Come on, no molesting the angel,” said Dean.
“That’s your job, huh?” Jo asked Dean, and Dean shot her a grumpy look.
“Sam’s reaction is a bit out of the ordinary. It might be because there are so many of us, gathered together,” said Cas, who was peering intently at Sam.
“I’ll get him inside,” laughed Jo. “Don’t wanna see him humping anybody’s leg. Come on, you! Dean, would you see the brewskis are distributed?”
Dean nodded, setting down the milk crate. He took out two beers and handed one to Cas.
“I didn’t want-“ Cas started, but Dean waved the bottle, so Cas took it.
“A last drink,” said Dean, popping the top off his bottle, and clinking it with Cas’.
“Dean,” said Cas. “I’m sorry.”
“What are you sorry about?”
“I don’t know. I just….”
“Look, I had this same fucking conversation a while back. With my brother. And that went over like Vietnam. So, I’m gonna try not to blow it this time.” Cas was staring at him, so he continued. “You’re gonna do a brave thing. Brave and really, really stupid. And I wish you wouldn’t. Because….” Dean trailed off. “But if you didn’t do it, I guess you wouldn’t be the person you are. And I think I’m in love with you or something. Boy, talk about things coming out weird.”
Cas didn’t reply, but just stepped forward and kissed Dean. And he did the thing where he wrapped the wings around him too. Which made Dean feel like how he felt that time in high school when he’d downed an entire bottle of vodka at a go. Well, how he felt before he started to throw up.
“Um. Since you're royal and all that shit, should we be making out?” Dean muttered as they broke he embrace. Cas broke into a broad grin. And Dean found his heart was about to shatter.
“Come back,” said Dean. “Just…. Come back. OK?”
They flew faster than Sam had expected. Much faster. An angel in a hurry was less like a bird and more like a jet fighter.
“A flock of angels,” he said. “Damn. This is just fucking amazing.”
“Remember it. You’re probably not gonna see it again,” sighed Gabe.
“He’ll be OK, Gabe,” said Dean.
“He’ll get his fucking wings sawed off,” said Gabe.
“Let’s keep a happy thought,” grumbled Dean. They watched the angels turn to a dark cloud, and the cloud disappear.
Sam heard dogs barking. Not dogs, hellhounds. “Crowley?” he asked.
“Well, what do you know? Start my day with angels, and now it’s demons,” said Ellen. Sam looked over to where she was heading. He recognized two people, Crowley and Rufus, and of course Crowley’s monstrous hellhounds. They were escorting a third figure, who also looked strangely familiar.
“Rufus?” hollered Ellen. She jogged the last few steps and warmly embraced Rufus. “Well I’ll be god damned,” she grinned.
“Haha, nice to see you Ellen!” laughed Rufus, who was now shaking Sam’s hand. “I had no idea your place was still standing after all that’s happened.”
“Harvelle's is gonna stand ‘til the end of time,” said Ellen proudly.
“You will forgive me for not coming in any closer, but the truth is, I can’t come in any closer,” said Crowley.
“That’s on purpose, demon,” warned Ellen.
“Yes, and thanks for that,” sighed Crowley. “But I had reports you have a little lost archangel or two in your midst.”
“How the hell did you hear that?” demanded Gabe.
“I have my sources,” said Crowley, smiling mysteriously. “And I thought perhaps he could do something about straightening out the head of my newest guest.” Crowley indicated the man he was currently holding by the shoulder.
“Frank?” asked Sam, who had finally recognized him. “Is that you?”
Frank looked up. Sam gasped. Behind the thick glasses, his eyes appeared milky, covered by cataracts.
“Frank!” said Sam. “Frank! What happened to you?”
“Who is he, Sam?” asked Dean.
“Another prisoner,” said Rufus. “We used him for forgery.”
“He made my IDs, and my train tickets,” said Sam. “He was a paranoid bastard. Frank?” asked Sam.
Suddenly, Frank was grasping Sam by the shoulders. “Who is like God?” he demanded.
“What?” asked Sam. “Uh, God? God is God?”
“Who is like God?” asked Frank, the unseeing eyes staring.
“All we can get is Biblical babbling,” said Crowley. “Not exactly my speciality.”
“Do you think … Lucifer did this to him?” asked Dean.
“He would seem the logical suspect,” said Crowley. “Burnt eyes and scrambled brains generally equals grumpy archangel.”
“He fought the dragon!” blurted Frank.
“Wait a damn minute,” said Gabe. “Frank,” he said, dragging Frank away from Sam. He put a hand on his forehead.
“A great prince will arise!” Frank told him. Gabe stared for a moment into Frank's sightless eyes.
“Michael?” asked Gabe.
“He fights the dragon! With his angels.” And then Frank clutched his burned eyes and moaned, collapsing to the ground, where Sam and Rufus caught him by the arms.
“Frank, this is very important!” said Gabe, who was now down on his knees in front of Frank. “Did you see my brother? Did you see Michael?”
“The time of the End,” Frank whimpered. “He will arise.”
“I don’t think he saw Lucifer. I think he saw Michael,” said Gabriel.
“But I thought no one saw Michael?” said Sam.
“Exactly. No one sees Michael,” said Crowley.
“Not for years,” said Gabe. “Ellen?”
“Oh please don’t tell me you wanna do another stinky location spell!” said Ellen. She sighed. “Come on!”
Dean frowned at his cards.
“Fuck. I'm out,” he grumbled, tossing them down on the table.
“He really is rather terrible, isn't he?” asked Crowley, leaning back and studying his own hand.
“Told you,” said Sam.
“Don't get too comfortable, demon,” Ellen scolded Crowley, kicking his chair back up to vertical. “All those warding signs are going back up tomorrow.”
“Yes, and I deeply appreciate your kind if temporary hospitality, Mrs. Harvelle,” said Crowley, who did not appear flustered.
“So what's the deal with Lucifer?” asked Dean.
“Just a run of the mill spoiled brat, from what I understand,” said Crowley.
“But he's committing genocide against the other angels!” said Sam. “Isn't that a little extreme?”
“To Lucy, those might not seem like angels,” mused Rufus. “They have to give up part of their power to grow a human body.”
“But that's not what Lucifer does?” asked Sam.
“Oh, hell no,” said Rufus. “He kept his true form. If you see him, he's walking around in a meatsuit. No different than our friend Crowley over here.”
“I’d say I’m a great deal different from Lucifer,” snorted Crowley.
“So, angels can possess people?” asked Sam.
“Yes, but not just anyone,” said Crowley. “There are rules.”
“Yes, because it's angels, there are whole books of rules,” said Rufus. “Fussy ass bastards. One can only inhabit vessels in a certain bloodlines.”
“Bloodlines? Sounds more like vampires than angels,” grumbled Dean.
“Or breeding dogs,” said Sam.
“What do you really think you look like to an angel?” said Crowley. Sam frowned.
“Actually,” said Rufus. “There's even tales that they will intervene in human mating to make sure they have the right bodies around.”
“OK, angels?” said Dean. “That's some weird ass shit.”
“I personally could not agree more,” laughed Crowley.
“Gabe? What's up?” asked Ellen. Gabriel had just come into the barroom where he sat himself at the table.
“Gabe?” asked Dean, pushing a beer over in front of the angel. Gabe picked it up and wordlessly downed it.
“What the hell, Gabe?” asked Sam. Everyone was now staring at him.
“Michael,” stuttered Gabe. “Michael is-” But he never completed the sentence, as he pitched forward on the table.
“Gabe!” said Dean, jumping up and running around to him. “Whoa, he's out,” he told Sam.
“Uh, Dean,” said Sam.
“What?”
“Look around.”
Dean looked up from Gabe's unconscious body. Everybody in the bar: Rufus, Ellen, Jo, even Crowley, were now zonked out. “What the hell is going on now, Sammy?”
And then the lights flickered. Dean jumped as the light over the table hissed and burst in a soft tinkle of glass.
“Uh, nothing good, Dean,” said Sam. More lights popped and crackled, until the room had sunken into darkness.
There was a huge flash of light outside, like ball lightning.
And then the front door creaked open. A single, slim figure was silhouetted there.
Dean had already drawn his sidearm, even though he realized it would probably do no good. “Who the hell are you?” he demanded.
“Who do you think I am?” came the answer. There was something very familiar about the voice. The figure walked casually towards Dean and Sam, seemingly unhurried.
A panel of moonlight shown through the front window. The man walked into the patch of light, and Dean gasped.
“What is it?” asked Sam.
“Dad?” croaked Dean.
It was the spitting image of John Winchester. But not, Dean instantly realized, his father as he would look today. He had not a wrinkle on his face. This was the father he remembered from almost two decades ago, not changed nor grayed in the least.
“You probably realize that I am not John Winchester, although I bear his body,” said the man.
“Michael,” whispered Sam, who sunk back into a chair and then collapsed, along with the others, over the card table.
“Sammy? You OK?” Dean edged over, and put a hand on Sam's back.
“Your brother is all right. My presence is overwhelming to him. He is very … sensitive to angelic magic,” said Michael.
“Why are you here?” asked Dean. “Did you put everyone to sleep?”
“I bear an important message,” warned Michael. “So you will listen. Your brother is in danger.”
“Sammy? Why?”
“The Winchester family is very important. Very special. That is why I have kept myself hidden for many years. I did not want this secret to get out. I could not have Lucifer know about you boys.”
“What about us?” asked Dean.
“Our vessels are everything to us: our earthly sword and shield. John Winchester is my rightful vessel. If anything should happen to him, his son could serve in my stead.”
“Sammy?”
“No, Dean.”
Dean paused a beat. “What? Oh hell, no! I'm not anybody's goddam meat puppet!”
Michael smirked. “It won't be necessary. As your father already volunteered in your stead.”
“Jesus,” said Dean.
“Also had nothing to do with it,” chuckled Michael.
“That’s…. That’s what happened to Dad? All those years ago? And you couldn’t leave a fucking note?” said Dean, his voice going up in fury.
“It was a small concern in the grand scheme of things,” tutted Michael.
“A small concern? We were orphaned, you dumb bastard!”
“Silence!” growled Michael, who suddenly seemed to grow bigger. It was like there was an electricity around him. “Harken to me. Your brother is pivotal. For he is the true sword of Lucifer.”
“Sammy is.... Oh, fuck. No!” said Dean
“Up until now, my brother has been kept in the dark about this. However, thanks to my meddling younger brother's clumsy spellcasting,” said Michael, casting a glower at the sleeping form of Gabe, “the host now knows of my vessel. And we must assume Lucifer has become aware of Samuel Winchester's importance.”
“So you knew about Gabe?” asked Dean.
“Of course. I'm the one who let the idiot take off with Castiel. The removed themselves from my chessboard long ago. They are of no further consequence.”
Dean wanted to shove a consequence up this guy's ass, but instead, something occurred to him. “Wait, if Lucifer's supposed to be riding Sammy, what the hell is he doing now?”
“He has been exploiting a number of … substandard vessels. Generally, they have not proved satisfactory after a year or so. And the current one is nearly worn out.”
“They … get sick?”
“Generally, they explode.”
“Oh, gross!” said Dean.
Michael snickered. Dean shook his head.
“That's amusing,” said Michael. “You are now thinking I am something called a 'douche bag.' Imagine what I must think of an uppity human who places his grubby hands all over my younger brother,” he sneered.
“And you're the good guy,” countered Dean.
“Good or bad. Much along those lines went out the door when my Father left.”
“And He liked Lucifer better, right?” taunted Dean.
“Silence!”
“You wanna shut me up, huh? Well, look, Mike. Me? I'm getting a little annoyed with you feathery types splattering your family issues all over creation. And I am really sick of you guys dragging in my family and my friends.”
“You mean to tell me what to do you insignificant little maggot?”
“Sticks and stones, Mike. How about this, before you smear the world with more of your family shit, why don't you go hash things out with your brother and fucking end it yourself?”
Michael was in Dean's face, staring him down. He hadn't exactly moved, he was just suddenly there.
Dean steeled himself and glared back.
And then Michael was in the doorway. “I will handle my own family issues. Keep your brother the fuck away from Lucifer.”
There was a soft rustle of wings, and he was gone.
And Dean was left, sweat dripping down his forehead.
“Goddammit!” Crowley had already leapt to his feet and was looking around. “I've been magicked. What the fuck happened?”
The others were moaning and rousing as well. Gabriel jumped up and ran to the door, looking out. “My brother! Was my brother here?”
“Your brother,” said Dean shakily, “Is a giant douche.”
“Yeah. That sounds like Michael,” sighed Gabriel.
“I thought I had the place warded against something like that,” sighed Ellen. “Goddammit. Jo, do we have replacement light bulbs anywhere?” she added, staring sadly at the darkened ceiling.
“What did my bastard brother want?” asked Gabe.
Dean cast a worried glance at his brother. “Sammy,” he said, “we gotta get you out of here. Now.”
Combat was nothing like what Cas had expected.
He had taken on demons before, alone, in the desert. He had gone up against them two and three at a time.
But here they were everywhere around. And Dean was right, the other angels, they were brave and strong, but they were not warriors. He had spent the last part of the last couple of hours, silver sword in hand, trying to keep his brethren out of trouble.
But now, out of the pain and chaos, there was hope. The tide turned.
Victory was at hand.
Cas was bloodied and battered and bruised, but, unlike some of his comrades, was still able to stand and to fly and most of all to fight. He watched the last of the demons fleeing, saw the last skirmishes, heard the scattered cheers go up. But he had a strange feeling, something gnawing in the pit of his human stomach.
He broke off from the main group and circled down to where the train had halted on the tracks. It was the train Sam Winchester and Balthazar had witnessed at the station, the train with the strange, silent passengers.
The passengers.
Where were they?
The unsettled feeling boiled over now. “Balthazar,” Cas cried, not using his human voice, but the angelic voice in his head, the one he was still learning about. He knew so little about angels. He alit, and strode up to a train car, using his magic to throw the door open.
“Castiel?” asked Balthazar. He and some of his lieutenants had just come in for a landing. “What's going on?”
Cas ripped open another car. “The passengers, Balthazar. Where are the passengers?”
Balthazar looked in confusion. “There were people here! Just now!”
Cas had him by the shoulders. “Balthazar! We need to get out of here! Pull everybody out! Now! This is a trap!”
But both angels looked up.
The sky darkened.
“You sassed my brother? And he didn't turn you into a bug?” asked Gabe.
They sat around the barroom, watching as Sam and Jo slowly replaced all the burned out light bulbs.
“I'm immune Gabe,” sighed Dean. “Turns out I'm his spare meatsuit, if our dad ever springs a leak.”
“This all sounds fairly amusing,” said Crowley. “I regret sitting it out.”
“Yeah, I'm glad the bastard knocked me out,” grumbled Gabriel. “I always hated that guy.”
“Our father. And I slept through it,” said Sam from high atop a ladder.
“It wasn't really our dad, Sammy. Not really,” Dean told him. “It was weird. Like watching a freaky puppet show. Or those freaky statues at Disney World.”
“Yeah, you wouldn't see me in one of those vessels. Creepy business,” said Gabe, who shivered.
“Dean, what do we do about your brother?” asked Rufus.
“Hey! I'm standing right here!” yelled Sam.
“You need to get your brother some place safe,” said Ellen. “And my place,” she continued, waving her arm at the shattered lights. “It's obviously not safe any more.”
“Back to Bobby's?” Dean asked. “That's a couple days drive.”
“I'll take him,” said Gabe. “Cas wasn't your only winged buddy, remember?”
“But how long will that work?” asked Rufus. “You say your friend Bobby is paranoid....” Dean nodded. It was a temporary move, he knew. Take Sam to No Man's Land, and then to the West, and then what? Where would Lucifer stop?
“Hey boss!” said Asmodeus, who had just popped up in the barroom.
“Oh, crap!” said Ellen. “I removed the warding for you, Crowley! This isn't a demon bar.”
“Apologize to the nice barkeep for being rude, Asmodeus,” said Crowley.
“Uh, sorry?” said Asmodeus.
“Good, now how is our little prophet?” asked Crowley.
“Frank? That's why I'm here,” said Asmodeus. “He went nuts a little while back. We finally got him settled down.”
“Yes, because Michael decided to share with us his angelic presence,” said Crowley.
“Michael?” said Asmodeus. “Whoa.”
“What do we do about Lucifer?” asked Dean. “Does anybody have any ideas?”
“There's just not much we can do, son,” said Ellen sympathetically. “You've seen what a fully loaded angel can do.”
“No!” shouted Gabe, who had jumped up, holding his ears.
“Gabe! What is it now?” asked Dean.
Gabe rested his hands on the table, breathing hard. “They’ve got him,” he whispered. “They’ve got Cas.”
“Now, Gabe, calm down,” said Dean. “It might be-“
“No,” said Gabe, tears streaming down his face. “I heard him. I heard him screaming.”
