Code Duello (Part 14 of 14, complete)
May. 12th, 2013 10:11 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tikificTitle: Code Duello (Part 14 of 14, complete)
Fandom: Supernatural
Author: tikific
Rating: This chapter: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Dean/Castiel, Sam/Jess, Bobby, Gabriel, Victor, Charlie, Pamela, Benny, Ash, Jo/Gordon, Ellen, Uriel, Zachariah, Joshua, Balthazar, Chuck/Becky, Crowley
Warnings: Cursing, no beta, character death.
Word Count: 80,000 total
Summary: The duel of honor is still the law of the land: grievances large and small are settled by means of electrified swords that can be honed to incredible sharpness. When Dean Winchester, captain of the University of Kansas fencing team, finds himself one player short at the beginning of the season, he recruits Castiel, a mysterious boy trained from birth to compete in high stakes illegal sword fighting competitions.
Notes: In this chapter … well, I’m not going to spoil it. Just go read.
Dean yawned and stretched and regarded the small group of hog-tied street fighters with curiosity.
The residents of Bobby’s Singer’s house had been hauled out of bed at an ungodly hour by the frantic call from Jess, but had arrived at the Harvelle place to find the situation well in hand, as Jess, Jo, Ellen, Pamela, Charlie and Meg, all still in their pajamas, stood guard on the interlopers, who were now lying around Ellen’s driveway like so much discarded patio furniture. It was three guys, all larger than life. Dean recognized the biggest one, Virgil.
“So, you gals were havin' a slumber party?” asked Bobby.
“Yeah, and Jess noticed someone followed her here,” Jo told them.
“That'll teach you guys to threaten my lady!” grinned Sam, draping an arm around Jess, who stared steely-eyed at the prisoners, sword in hand, fuzzy slippers on her feet.
“My whole family is cops! And you didn't think I could defend myself?” Jess asked them. “Assholes!”
“Who knew that Smurfette could handle a sword?” sighed Virgil. And then his expression completely shifted and he said, sternly, “You should have known, idiot.”
“And what the fuck is wrong with Gollum here?” asked Meg. “He’s been talking to himself since he got here.”
“He is currently possessed by both the angel Virgil and the angel Shamsiel,” explained Cas.
“What?”
Cas sighed. “It's a long story. My father, Lucifer, was trying to use me as a vessel for Shamsiel. But Shamsiel chose Virgil instead.”
“You're too damn scrawny,” grumbled what was evidently the Shamsiel half of Virgil. “You need to get out,” Virgil wailed. “It's too crowded in here.”
“Hey, I would occupy Cas,” Meg told him. “Any time!”
“Oh, uh, thank you Meg,” said Cas, who seemed a bit dubious about the idea.
“Don't get any ideas,” grumbled Dean, who was glaring at Meg.
“By the way, Meg,” said Cas quietly. “You were on Crowley's team. May I assume-?”
Meg shrugged and actually appeared a little sheepish. “Yeah, you got me. I'll give her back at the end of the school year.”
“What?” Dean mouthed at Cas, who mouthed back, “Later.”
“Well, it looks like you gals got the situation well in hand,” said Bobby.
“I called Jess's people to haul these guys away,” grumbled Ellen, pulling her bathrobe more tightly around herself. “They don't exactly light up my driveway.”
“If you guys only knew,” laughed Virgil. “But they're too stupid,” he replied to himself.
“Knew what?” asked Dean.
“We're a diversion. Oh, don't tell them that! If I don't, how can we gloat! That's what villains are supposed to do. I thought we were the heroes?”
“Will somebody shut this guy up?” asked Jo.
“No, wait,” said Dean. He crouched down next to Virgil. “A diversion from what?”
“What we're doing back at Lucifer’s dojo. No, shut up. No, you shut up.”
“Cas?”
Dean turned. Cas already had his cell phone out. “He's not answering,” he said nervously. “Gabriel's phone is going to voice mail.”
“What's going on?” Dean asked Virgil.
Jo was down next to him, her sword at Virgil's throat. “What are they up to?” she asked.
“I'm not answering a woman,” grumbled Virgil. “That's sexist, you know. Oh, don't start, Shamsiel. Lucifer is there. He wants Castiel. See? That wasn't so hard. You gave away the surprise.”
“This guy is giving me a headache!” said Dean.
“I should go,” said Cas, his face pale.
“Oh, no!” Dean told him. “You're not pulling a disappearing act again! I'm going with you this time.”
“And I'm going with you guys!” said Sam.
“And I'm going with Sam,” said Jess.
“And we're all going with Jess!” said Jo.
“You’re not going anywhere, young lady!” Ellen scolded Jo. “Not without a decent breakfast!”
“All right, everybody, hold your horses!” said Bobby, holding up his hands for calm. “This loyalty brings tears to my eyes. But we're not any of us going anywhere without a plan.”
Some hours later, a semi pulled up in the parking lot of Lucifer’s dojo. It had Wellman markings on the side.
Someone hurried out to meet it. “I didn't think we were supposed to get a delivery today.”
“I have an order here for a gross of Wellman Wellies,” said the mulleted driver, officiously consulting his clipboard.
“But we thought they had liquidated?” said the guy from the dojo.
“Yeah, you're right. We're distributing the leftover inventory.”
“You want it or not?” asked the big guy sitting next to the driver, fingering the crucifix around his neck.
“We want it! Of course!” said the dojo guy.
Benny and Ash nodded at each other, and then ambled out, opened the back, and began loading cartons into the dojo's loading dock area.
“Aren't these cartons bigger than usual?”
“Yeah, the new guys who are in charge, they don't know how to do anything right,” sighed Ash.
Sam put down his binoculars and grinned. He shinnied back down to the ground from up in the tree branch where he’d been perched. “Hook, line and sinker,” he said. There were smiles and nods from the crowd.
“One less thing to be nervous about,” said Bobby. A rather large group of swordsmen were gathered around the tree, up the hill just out of sight of the dojo down below. “All right, you boys, that’s your cue.”
Cas hitched up his scabbard. “I still think it would be better for me to go alone.”
“And I still think, no fucking way,” Dean told him. “Come on.”
“Now, remember, you two,” scolded Coach Henricksen. “We talked about this. You just distract Lucifer. No heroics.”
“No, sir,” muttered Cas.
“Winchester?” said Henricksen, casting a critical eye on Dean.
“Yeah. No heroics,” Dean muttered. He was nearly bouncing up and down on his heels. “Can we go?”
“Good luck, you guys,” said Jess, who was nervously bonking the flat of her sword on her boot. She had switched out of her Wellman Wellies into real dueling boots. Several people nodded in agreement.
Suddenly, Meg popped out of the crowd, fisted Cas’s collar, pulled him down and kissed him full on the lips. There were a couple of hoots and catcalls, and Pamela might have whistled. “Good luck,” she told him when she finally let him go.
“Er. Thank you, Meg,” muttered Cas, cheeks flushed bright red, as he was released from her grasp.
“Hey, what about me?” asked Dean, but Meg merely arched and eyebrow and stepped back, smirking at him. Dean turned to see Cas was already stalking away, so he rushed to join him. “Hey, wait up!”
There was a rumble up the road in the other direction, and the Wellman truck pulled up nearby. Benny and Ash hopped out and came to join the group.
“About time you ladies decided to join us!” Henricksen shouted at them.
“We couldn’t miss the best part!” Benny declared, rubbing his hands together.
“You boys delivered the packages?” Bobby asked.
“Yeah, and they even signed off on it,” laughed Ash, holding up a clipboard. Bobby peered at it, and then broke out laughing. Henricksen looked over Bobby’s shoulder. On the signature line, there was a big, sloppy “X.”
“Not the sharpest tools in the shed, those angels,” cracked Bobby.
“So Meg is a demon? No way!” Dean quickened his pace, trying to keep up with Cas.
“Yes. It should have been apparent, as she was playing for Crowley.”
“But he was too skeezy for her? Another demon?”
Cas shrugged. He and Dean paused in the courtyard and watched the front gate close behind them with a slam. He shuddered. “She has said she will give up the possession at the end of the school term.”
“You know, she's kind of hot for you.”
Cas shrugged again. And then he turned and began walking through the courtyard towards the dojo's front doors.
“You do realize that, right?”
“Yeah, I think I figured that one out on my own.”
“So. You don't like girls? Not that I'm complaining....”
“I haven't thought about it. I like you.”
“I knew it! Is it my good looks? My winning personality?”
Cas gave him a look.
“Come on, Cas. Trying to cheer you up.”
“I don't know if I need 'cheering' in this situation.”
“Think of me like your street fighting partner. I mean, you guys are like comedy teams, right?”
Cas stopped short in the middle of the courtyard. “What?”
“Like comedy teams! You know, there's the straight man and the funny guy. And I'm the funny guy.”
“Why can't I be the funny guy? Aren't I funny?”
“You're very funny, Cas.”
Cas glared. “Now you're patronizing me.”
“Castiel!”
Cas and Dean halted their bickering and turned towards the sound of the familiar voice.
“Brought your boyfriend along again?” asked Lucifer. There were some other people gathered around him, but Cas recognized only a few of them. And Lucifer himself looked somewhat worse for wear, like he had a bad sunburn, or maybe stood in front of a microwave oven too long.
Dean snorted. “Are these all the guys you got left in the original, non-blown-to-Spaghetti Os state?” asked Dean.
“I will enjoy gutting you, Dean Winchester,” said Lucifer.
“You need to stand down. Father,” said Cas.
“Doubtful. You need to surrender, before I break your brother's other kneecap.”
Cas looked at Dean, who nodded. Steeling himself, he stepped forward, and bowed formally.
“Wait. You're … challenging me?” laughed Lucifer.
“You must answer,” said a nervous looking guy with glasses who stood beside Lucifer.
Lucifer tutted. “You're kidding, Raphael.”
“It would be dishonorable!”
“Oh for....” Lucifer turned to face Cas again. “All right. How about this. After I slice your legs off, you can watch me eviscerate him,” he added, pointing to Dean.
Dean grinned. “Hey, Luci, has anybody ever told you you're kind of fucked up in the head?”
“Shut up, mud monkey.”
“Speaking of monkeys, what happened to your monkey suit? You don’t look so good.”
“Inside. Now,” barked Lucifer.
“Why are we still getting the fucking boots?”
“I dunno. I'm hungry. Let's get something to eat before we unpack this shit.”
The light switched off in the storeroom and the two men departed.
The room was silent for a moment.
And then suddenly the tip of a sword poked out of one of the boxes. It tore down the seam, and the carton burst open.
“Hey, how you like the girl in the cake?” asked Jo, springing up. She looked around. She knocked on the other Wellman carton and whispered, “You okay in there?”
“Help me out,” came a muffled voice. “I'm stuck.”
“How did you get stuck, Gordon?”
“C'mon, Jo. This fucking box is too small.”
“We told you you're too big. Watch out!” she warned, and then took her sword to the carton.
“Ouch!” said Gordon, sitting up. “I think I wrenched my back.”
“Big baby. Come on.” She extended a hand and helped him to his feet. “You got your stuff?”
Gordon checked his backpack and nodded.
“Let's go find the controls for the gate and do the open sesame thingie!” She grabbed Gordon's arm and skipped off.
Sam was back up in the tree, squinting through his binoculars.
“You don't need to watch, kid,” Bobby called up. “I'm sure we'll notice.”
“I don't wanna miss Gordon’s signal.”
Bobby rolled his eyes. A pickup truck pulled up to where the group had gathered. Everyone turned to look as a dark-haired man emerged.
“Dad?” said Sam, who slipped down from the branch. “I thought you took off?”
“I heard you could use an extra sword,” said John, gripping his son by the shoulder.
“We could use all the help we can get,” said Bobby. “We need to give 'em a few minutes to get in position.
John looked around at the assembled crowd. “Where's Dean?”
Bobby and Sam exchanged a worried glance.
They both ducked as the explosion rocked the countryside.
“I think that was the signal!” cried Sam.
“Oh, you think?” growled Bobby. He snatched away the binoculars from Sam and peered down the hill. “Dammit, Gordon, you idjit. I think he blew off the entire top floor.” He put down the binoculars. “All right, everybody. Gate’s open: get mounted!”
“Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in,” gushed Zachariah as Lucifer and his men led Cas and Dean into the gymnasium. Cas noticed the smashed windows hadn’t been repaired yet, only boarded over. All the shattered glass had been swept away. He cringed and his feet throbbed at the memory.
“Where is my brother, Zachariah?” said Cas.
“Why aren't you gutted yet?” sniffed Zachariah. “Lucifer, you said you were going to finish him.”
“He challenged me to a duel,” said Lucifer. “And I'm bored. So bored.”
“A duel? We don't have time for that kind of nonsense,” Zachariah insisted. “You know that!”
“Quit being an old queen,” sighed Lucifer. “Maybe I like toying with my food. You! Raphael. You're my second.”
“You're really going through with this?” asked Zachariah.
The explosion threw everybody off their feet.
“That came from the roof!” said Raphael, looking up nervously.
“Everybody! They must have found a way in upstairs” said Zachariah. “This is just a diversion. Go!”
“Not you!” Lucifer told Castiel as his men rushed out of the room. “You're not getting out of this.”
Zachariah glared at Lucifer. “I'm going to go check on our prisoner. Get rid of them. Both of them. And make it quick.” He turned and stomped out of the room.
Dean turned to Lucifer and smiled. “You know, if you hurt Cas, you can’t use him as a vessel.”
“What?” Cas stared at Lucifer.
“What?” said Raphael, adjusting his eyeglasses. “You said.... You said we would be fine.”
“Why didn't you go upstairs?” Lucifer asked Raphael.
“I'm your second,” Raphael reminded him.
“He didn't tell you without the drug you need to bail your vessel?” Dean asked Raphael.
“Don't listen to him,” said Lucifer. “Come on, we are going to finish this.”
“Did you tell Zachariah you're planning to jump ship, Luci? Or did he know the other guys would realize their days were numbered?”
“On your mark, Castiel. Now.”
Cas raised his sword. And then he let it fall to the side. He held up his hands. “Go ahead.”
“No.”
“Go ahead. If this is a real duel, strike me.”
“Lucifer,” said Raphael.
Lucifer lunged, and smacked Dean on the back with his sword. He grabbed Dean and held him up, holding his sword at Dean's neck.
“You will cooperate this time,” Lucifer told Cas. “Or I will gut him.”
Cas ignited his sword.
And held it at his own throat. “And who will you use as a vessel next?”
“No, don't do it,” hissed Lucifer.
“Cas,” whispered Dean.
“No!” shouted Raphael. “This is dishonorable!” He pulled out his weapon and struck Lucifer in the shoulder. Lucifer dropped Dean, turned and plunged his blade straight into Raphael's heart, the blade sparking red as it pushed out through his back. Raphael fell without a word, eyes wide at the betrayal. Dean ran at Lucifer, who turned and hit him full force with the flat of his sword. Dean, unshielded, screamed and sunk to his knees.
And then Cas lunged at Lucifer, who parried, quick as a cat. “There's no walls here, boy!” yelled Lucifer. “You're mine.
A gaggle of Lucifer's men hit what remained of the roof.
“Why is there no one up here?”
“I dunno.”
One of the brighter ones scanned the countryside. “Hey, were we supposed to leave the gate open?”
“I don't think so. Why?”
“Well, because it's open.”
“Oh, we should shut it.”
“Maybe we could call them?”
“Call who?”
“All the swordsmen in the courtyard.”
“What swordsmen in the courtyard?”
The lackey pointed.
Several heads pondered.
“Oh, shit!”
And then they were running downstairs.
Except for the one lone guy.
“But, what should we do about the gate?”
And the he gasped, staring at the sword point that was sticking out of his body.
He crumpled to the ground as Gordon withdrew the sword. “Damn,” he said, shaking his head. “Not the sharpest tool in the shed. Jo?” Jo came out of hiding as well, and the two of them hurried down the stairs.
“Are you behind this?” asked Zachariah, who had just stormed into the small, windowless room where Gabriel was being held.
“What's the word, Zach?” said Gabriel. He was lying on his bed, playing with a yo-yo.
“Gabriel, did you let them in here?”
“Let who in?” sighed Gabriel, who could not have acted less interested.
“You know who!”
“Really not in the mood for guessing games right now.” He counted off on his fingers. “I had myself down to mope, and then maybe sulk.”
“Your brother is here!”
“Oh. Which brother?”
“Didn't you hear the explosion?”
“What explosion?”
“What the hell have you been doing in here?” thundered Zachariah, drawing his sword.
Gabriel lashed out with the yoyo, looping the string around Zachariah's throat. He pulled, hard, and brought Zachariah down, choking, to his knees.
Gabriel grabbed Zachariah's sword out of his hand and pushed him over. “I've been practicing yo-yo!” he whispered. And then he limped out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
“This way!” shouted Sam. “We gotta find Dean and Cas.”
“Upstairs or downstairs?” asked Bobby.
“Dad and I will take upstairs, you guys take downstairs,” Sam told them. Bobby and Henricksen nodded at each other and took off towards the kitchen.
“This place is like a labyrinth,” huffed Sam as he and John made their way up a narrow staircase.
“They were built that way,” John told him. “Intentionally. To discourage what we're trying to do.”
“You can't lay seige to a dojo?”
“No.”
Sam grinned. “Then we're idiots.”
Father and son shared a smile.
Sam signaled for them to stop just before they reached the landing. He had picked up the faint sound of floorboards creaking. He raised his sword.
And then leapt into the hall.
“Gabriel!”
Gabriel lowered Zachariah's sword. “Oh, shit. You scared me, Sam.”
“Have you seen Dean and Cas?”
“No. I've been looking for Balthazar. They stashed him up here somewhere.”
“How do you trap a guy like Balthazar?” asked Sam.
“There are ways,” said John. “Holy oil fire, for one. Do you smell smoke anywhere? That's a way to tell.”
Suddenly the door just down the hall blew off the hinges. Zachariah stormed out.
“Will you stay where I put you?” Gabriel yelled raising his sword.
Zachariah literally growled and raised a hand. Suddenly, Gabriel, Sam and John were hurled backwards down the hall and slammed into the wall.
“Uh, can he do that?” asked Sam, shaking his head.
“Yeah. He can do that,” said John, pushing himself to his feet.
“Shit,” said Sam.
“Hold him off you two!” yelled Gabriel. “I'm going to find Balthy!”
“Hold him how?” Sam yelled after him.
“He sure moves fast for a guy with a limp,” said John.
Lucifer had been right: the lack of a cage wall was killing Cas. Lucifer was bigger and stronger, and knew how to take advantage of it.
Cas was quicker, but that only seemed to help him run away.
His wounded feet ached. And he was growing increasingly worried about Dean, lying there, barely moving.
Lucifer lumbered closer again.
Usually, Cas would hitch some wall and get over him. But Lucifer was wily in keeping him away from the wall, or any object he could use to gain height. And he was absolutely relentless.
It was like fighting a god damn brick wall.
Cas stood and stared. Of course.
He gripped his sword, took a deep breath, and then rushed headlong towards Lucifer.
And then he continued running, right on up Lucifer, stepping on his midsection, and landing a great kick right under his chin.
He flipped and landed painfully but solidly on two feet, whirled around and drove the blade home. Lucifer was shielded, but Cas was cranked to ten Teslas and the blade went in true, right in the middle of his chest. Cas smelled blood and ozone.
Lucifer screamed. And then he crackled and jerked, like he was holding on to a live wire.
Cas dropped his hands from the hilt of his sword and stepped back, shielding his eyes as Lucifer flared up, his body burned to a cinder. He blinked in wonder. There was nothing left but his sword spearing through a charred cinder.
“Cas?”
Cas spun around and rushed over to Dean.
It was like fighting a whirlwind.
Sam would hit him high, and John would hit him low, but then Zachariah would wind up and slam them back again.
“I'm worried my shielding is gonna break,” Sam told John the sixth or seventh time they found themselves slammed into a wall.
“I'm worried my head is gonna break,” said John. “We gotta get in close, Sam. It's the only way.”
“It's suicide,” said Sam.
“Come on!”
Sam had no choice but to follow his father as John hurled himself at Zachariah. The angel raised his hand once again, pushing Sam away, but John managed to duck under the blow this time. They wrestled for a time, but it wasn't much of a contest.
Sam, scrambling to his feet, heard a familiar click.
“Dad! Your shielding!”
Sam looked on in horror as Zachariah pulled his father's sword from his grasp and landed a blow right across John's chest. His electrical shielding disengaged, John spasmed and went down.
“No!” yelled Sam, who managed to get a good, clean blow across Zachariah's back.
Zachariah spun around, impossibly fast for someone so large. He had John's sword up and began raining clumsy but powerful blows down on Sam. They fought down the corridor, Sam backing up as Zachariah stormed relentlessly onward. Sam stopped, his back against the balustrade. He glanced down at the drop, and then clung to his sword.
Zachariah let out a cry and stumbled sideways, as if he had been hit by a great force.
“Zachariah,” said Balthazar, raising his sword. “You have shed innocent blood.”
“How the hell did you get out?” barked Zachariah. “I left you in the holy fire.”
Gabriel arrived, puffing and holding up a fire extinguisher.
Balthazar smiled at Zachariah. “I have been waiting for over a century for this.”
Zachariah raised his sword. And then, quicker than you would have imagined, he turned tail and rushed to the stairs.
Gabriel sent his yo-yo out to Zachariah, catching his neck, but Zachariah continued running, pulling Gabe with him.
Sam kicked out a leg, tripping Zachariah right at the top of the stairs. He toppled down, and as Gabriel fell to the floor, clinging to the yo-yo string, he gurgled, and there was a thump.
Sam stared down the staircase as Gabriel and Balthazar exchanged a glance. They hurried to the top of the stairs to see Zachariah's body broken on the stairs, his neck twisted almost all the way around.
“Well, that worked,” said Gabriel.
“Dad!” said Sam, turning around.
“Oh, crap,” said Gabriel.
“Is that it?” asked Bobby as sirens wailed in the distance.
There was a rather impressive contingent of street fighters now sitting in the middle of the courtyard. A whole lot of Jessica Moore's family tree, uncles and aunts and cousins, milled around, making arrests and binding up wounds.
“Sam is still in there,” Jess told him. “He and Mr. Winchester.”
“Jo and Gordon got out. I haven't seen Cas or Dean yet though,” Benny told them. “We been occupied out here.”
“We didn't get much farther inside than the kitchen,” Bobby admitted. “Victor, can we get a party to go take a look around inside?”
“Chief Moore is saying no,” Henricksen told him. “They're worried about damage from the explosion.”
“I knew it was too damn early to call in the cops,” Bobby muttered. “Jody would let me in.”
“This ain't her jurisdiction,” Victor pointed out.
Suddenly a group of people came stumbling out of the building.
“Thank you, Lord,” said Benny, kissing his crucifix.
“Oh no,” said Bobby, running over to them.
Cas ran over to where Dean was crumpled on the floor. He went down on his knees, pulling Dean into his lap.
“Bye bye Luci?” muttered Dean.
“Yeah, there's not much left.”
Dean reached up and touched Cas's face. “He hit me good. I-” And then he slumped.
“DEAN!” Cas frantically checked Dean's neck for a pulse. “Dean. Oh no. Oh god no. Please!”
Cas blinked in astonishment as a dark hand pressed on to Dean's chest.
“Joshua!” he said, blinking back tears.
A soft glow emitted from Joshua’s hand. Dean jerked, and then opened his eyes.
“Dean!”
Dean blinked in confusion. “Whoa. What the fuck?”
“Dean, are you all right?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
“Castiel,” whispered Joshua, gently cupping Cas's face in his hands. “Listen to me. I am old. And grown weary. I have overstayed my time down here. This was the last I had, you understand? The very last.”
“Joshua,” said Cas, reaching for him. He gasped as his hand went right through him.
“Goodbye, my son,” said Joshua.
And then he was no longer there. Cas jumped up and looked around frantically. “Joshua?”
“What the hell happened?” asked Dean, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.
Cas crouched down next to him, wiping tears from his eyes. “I think you were … dead.”
“And there was a guy?”
Cas was searching the room with his eyes. “Joshua. He brought you back. But he's gone. Joshua!”
“Weird. Are you okay?”
“Yes. But Lucifer isn't.”
“Yeah, I noticed he's lost some weight.” Dean sniffed. “Smells like barbeque in here. Ew.”
Gabriel burst into the room.
“Gabriel! You're all right!” said Cas.
“Dean. Come with me. Come quick!” said Gabe. He yanked Dean to his feet, and the three hurried out.
The ambulance sat in the parking lot, light flashing red and white, red and white.
“We need to get you out of here, Dad,” said Sam softly.
“Not until I see Dean!” said John, who once again tore off the oxygen mask the attendant was trying to fix on his face.
“Dad!” yelled Dean. He hopped up into the back of the ambulance, next to Sam.
“We gotta get him out of here,” Sam told Dean. “The only reason they're holding it is Jess's cousin is driving.”
“Dean,” said John, reaching out a hand to clasp Dean's.
“Hey, you heard 'em, Dad. You get going, and we'll see you at the hospital....”
“Dean. I got hit full force with a ten Tesla blow.”
“Dad-”
“I've had a heart attack already. They told me, don't strain myself.”
Dean looked at Sam, who nodded sadly. “Dammit, Dad. I didn’t know. We didn’t know. Why didn’t you tell us?”
John gripped Dean's hand and stared into his eyes. “Dean. Take care of your brother.”
“Dad, I....” Dean felt his own heart was about to stop. “Yes. I-”
But John was looking over Dean's shoulder. “And take care of my son,” said John.
“Yes, sir,” said Cas, who was hovering over Dean's shoulder. “Always.”
John nodded. And then his eyes rolled up in his head, and his body spasmed.
“DAD!” chorused both Sam and Dean. The paramedic shoved Dean aside and stuck his stethoscope onto John's chest.
“He's in defib,” the paramedic told his partner. The Winchesters were hustled out of the ambulance as one paramedic grabbed the defibrillator padles while the other cut open John's shirt, pasting the pads to his chest.
Dean became aware that Cas's hand was on his shoulder. Frantically, he turned towards Cas. “Joshua! Where’s your boss? He healed me! He could heal Dad!”
Cas sadly shook his head. “No, Dean.”
“No, Cas, let’s go inside! Let’s go find him.”
“He warned me,” said Cas, who made no move to follow. “He warned me. You were the last. You were the last he had in him. Somehow. He must have known.”
Dean looked towards the ambulance. An attendant, probably a Moore, pulling up a sheet.
Sam was sobbing in Jess's arms. The world slowed down.
It was, they said, the biggest funeral they had ever had in the county. Dean didn’t even know the guy who ended up giving the eulogy, though he understood he was some politician from a neighboring state.
Dean was just relieved that he didn’t have to speak.
“He was telling the truth, Cas.”
Dean had tossed some dirt on the coffin, and then had just walked away and kept on walking, finally finding a stone bench in a relatively deserted corner of the cemetery.
Cas had followed him, of course. He sat down next to Dean on the bench and loosened his tie. It was the first time he had ever worn a suit. He couldn’t seem to manage tying the tie. For some reason, it always ended up flipped around backwards.
Bobby had taken him out to buy it, which was nice, because Bobby had a lot going on.
They all had a lot going on.
In the end, Bobby hadn't let Cas divest the entirety of Roman Enterprises. Instead, they had had one of Jess's more eccentric relatives (a cousin who for some reason had favored accounting over law enforcement) fashion something called a trust fund, which Cas would not have full access to until he turned 21. And then Bobby and he had withdrawn a little bit of money so he could get “a nice suit you can wear again.”
It was strange to have a suit when he didn't even have a closet, but Dean had managed to clear out enough of his dueling crap from one side of the closet in their room that there was space to hang it up. And Dean had seemed thankful to have something, anything, to do.
“The truth? You mean your father?” asked Cas.
Dean nodded. “He told us there was a world out there. One we didn't know. And it's true: half the people here, three quarters of the people here today, I don't know them, Cas. They're people Dad knew, people he helped. And, I never realized.”
Cas looked wistful. “It's good that your father is remembered well.”
“Oh, man. I'm sorry. I haven’t even asked about how you’re doing. Damn. Lucifer was your dad.”
Cas glared. “Lucifer was not my father. Joshua was my father. And Balthazar. Bobby. Coach Henricksen.” He smiled. “Even Gabriel. They are the ones who have been there. When I needed them.”
Dean hooked an arm around Cas’s shoulders and pulled him nearer. Cas laid his head on Dean’s shoulder, and they stayed like that for a while, until Sam walked up.
“Hey, Sammy.”
“So that’s where you guys snuck off to.”
“Sammy, I’ve been thinking.”
Sam smiled, though his were rimmed red. “You know you’re not supposed to have ideas while we’re in college.”
“No, I mean, seeing all these people here today. People Dad knew, people he helped. I feel like he was right all along: there’s a bigger world out there. And I need to do something to help.”
Sam smiled slyly. “Like maybe study for your midterm?”
Dean glared at his brother. “Hey, where’s Jess?”
Sam looked guilty, and then sat down on the bench next to Dean and Cas. “So, uh, you know Crowley’s team is all here?”
“That was … polite of them,” said Cas.
“They’ve all been through the demon jiffy wash, right?” asked Dean. “That’s gotta be weird.”
“Yeah, they’re not possessed any more. So it’s like they’ve all got personality transplants. Alastair is like this mousy engineering student.”
“So what about the others?” chuckled Dean, who knew his little brother all too well.
Sam leaned over and whispered, “So I went to talk to Ruby.”
“And?”
“She doesn’t even remember me!”
“Sammy. Did you want that chick to remember you?”
“Uhhhh.”
Dean placed an affectionate hand on his idiotic brother’s shoulder. “What say, after this, we go out and get really, really drunk.”
“You boys in the mood for an Irish wake?” asked Bobby, who was walking up with Jody Mills on his arm. He was ripping off his tie and tucking it away in a pocket.
“Yes, please, Uncle Bobby,” sighed Sam. Dean ruffled his hair, and Sam batted it away.
“I think your daddy would approve,” said Bobby, who pulled a flask from his vest.
“Where the hell did you get that, you old rascal?” laughed Jody. Bobby took a pull, and then offered it to Jody, who took a sip as well, and then the flask got passed around.
“By the way,” said Bobby, who was pulling something out of his vest pocket. “Found this in your dad's effects. I think John would have wanted you to have this.” It was a leather-bound journal.
“What is this, Bobby?” asked Dean, who took it and sat, hands running over the soft cover.
“That there is a hunter’s notebook. We all keep ‘em. I had one, back in the day.”
“I’m not supposed to know about this,” said Jody.
“It’s case notes, that sort of thing,” said Bobby. Dean had opened the notebook and sat flipping through the pages. They were all hand written, and the text was interspersed with a number of drawings. Dean recognized some of the pictures as sigils Bobby had used.
“Your father had lovely handwriting,” said Cas, who was hanging curiously over the notebook.
“Thanks, Uncle Bobby,” muttered Dean, who was immersed in the pages.
Benny and Ash had just strolled up. “Dean, your pappa was quite a guy. I was just talking to a young lady who told me about some of his adventures.”
“A really hot young lady,” snickerd Ash.
“Shut your mouth.”
“Benny,” said Sam. “You're picking up girls at my dad's funeral?”
“No. I mean....”
“You got her number?” asked Ash. Benny brought up his cell phone, smiling shyly.
“Well it's good you decided to attend your father's funeral, ladies,” cracked Henricksen, who walked up with Ellen and several members of the fencing team.
“Listen, everybody,” said Ellen. “Victor and I and Ellen and Ash are gonna go open up the place.”
“Wait. Me too?” asked Gordon. Jo grabbed his arm defensively.
Ellen gave Gordon a dubious look, but Henricksen gripped his shoulder and laughed, “Yeah, you too. Just don't blow anything up!”
“Are you kidding?” asked Ash. “That was awesome!”
“Everybody,” said Ellen, as people began to chatter. “I want you all to come over. Remember your Daddy the way he would have wanted to be remembered.”
“Can we play Henricksen darts?” asked Benny.
“Fuck. You,” said Henricksen, lighting a cigarette. “And besides, I'll kick your ass the way I always do.”
“Hey, baby bro!” shouted Gabriel, who wandered up with both Meg and Pamela on his arms. He reached over and ruffed Cas's hair. Cas slapped him away. “Hey, you can't hit a poor cripple,” said Gabe, who pulled out a yo-yo and began to do tricks.
“You taking up a new sport, Gabe?” asked Bobby.
“I might!” laughed Gabe, who was walking the dog.
“You coming with us?” asked Ellen, who was starting to wander away.
“Sure we are!” Gabriel told her, grabbing the arms of Pamela and Meg. “Uh, where we going exactly?”
“Do you even care?” cracked Pamela. Meg, who looked oddly shy and confused, wandered along as well.
The crowd began to disperse, headed in the general direction of their cars. “Uh, Meg-?” Dean asked Cas.
“It looks like she is no longer possessed,” said Cas, tilting his head as he watched people go.
“You disappointed?”
Cas smiled up at him. “Not really. No.”
Sam rose to follow them. “Well, time we headed out too. I should find Jess....”
“Wait,” said Dean.
Sam eyed his brother suspiciously. “What's up?”
“There’s something we gotta do first,” said Dean. He picked up the notebook. “I’ve been looking at Dad’s latest entry here. Come on, Sammy. We’ve got someone to visit. I’ll explain on the way.” Dean led off Cas, with a puzzled Sam following behind them.
The white boards really didn’t need washing, but Prof. Jaunoeil was very particular. “Janitors can’t be trusted, you know, I always say. They only work to collect their salary. Although they are better behaved, overall, than students. By the way, you can come out of there. I can hear you breathing from down here.”
Cas regretted, not for the first time, that this lecture hall had no windows.
“You sure, Cas?” asked Dean, who emerged beside him.
“Yes. I’m certain now, Dean.”
“You’re not even one of my students, are you?” said Prof. Jaunoeil, peering at Dean. “Well, that makes it a bit messy. But everyone will believe a street fighter has gone berserk. That was a strategic error on your part.” His blade was out and humming softly. Cas caught the faint whiff of ozone. And … something else.
“Rotten eggs,” said Dean as Cas unsheathed his sword. “I’m curious: what’s your real name, Jaunoeil?”
Jaunoeil – or the demon who was possessing him – smiled. Cas could have sworn his eyes glinted yellow. He shivered. “It’s an old family name. One of the first, actually. So. What gave me away?”
“You didn’t. Our dad sniffed you out. And Cas just confirmed his suspicions.”
“Unhappy with your midterm grade were you, Mr. Singer?”
“Cas is an angel.”
Jaunoeil went utterly silent. And then he howled and thrust out a hand, and Dean went sprawling backwards over a row of seats.
Cas leapt down towards the lectern, flourishing his sword. He struck at Jaunoeil, but caught nothing but air. He heard the hum of a blade and whirled around: Jaunoeil was behind him. He barely managed to parry the blow, and hopped up on the desk. He winced. His feet still hurt.
“You can't win,” said Jaunoeil, and Cas for some reason got a glint from his eyes, like he had when they'd confronted Crowley's team back in that godforsaken vacant lot in Manhattan.
Only there were not black. They were a sick shade of yellow.
Cas hopped off the desk, once again catching air with his strike. But this time he was sharp enough to whirl around and get in a few blows on Jaunoeil. But the the demon waved his hand, and Cas felt his blade click off. Jaunoeil hit him, hard, though Cas managed to parry with a dead blade.
The microphone squealed with feedback.
Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica…. intoned Sam's voice over the PA.
Jaunoeil glared at them. “I’ll be back!” he declared.
And then he threw his head back and belched out an acrid black smoke, which filled the room and then dissipated.
Jaunoeil collapsed, and Cas and Dean ran to his side.
“Hey, buddy, are you okay?” asked Dean.
Jaunoeil – the real Jaunoeil – blinked up at them, confused. “Are you here about your midterm grade?” he asked Cas.
“Was that awesome, or was that awesome?” asked Dean. “We make a kick ass team!”
The three boys strode across campus in the cool clear evening.
Sam eyed his brother. “Dean, I’m not clear what your role was, other than getting thrown across the room?”
“I’m the leader. Obviously!”
“He said he’d be back, Dean,” said Sam.
“Yeah. So, what we’ll do, you’ll research it, Sammy. And then we’ll be ready next time!”
“I’ll research?” asked Sam.
“Yeah. This is our new calling, Sam. Hunting monsters! The Winchester family business.”
“I thought Cas was a Singer?”
“Well. Hey, he's family. You can bring Jess next time, if you want.”
Sam looked dubious. “Jess has too many brains for this, I think.”
Dean extracted the car keys from his pocket. “Now, we gotta get our asses to Harvelle’s. There’s drinking to do!”
“Can I drive, Dean?” asked Cas.
“Baby? Hell no.”
Cas stared at him. “I thought I was an honorary Winchester now?”
“Except in matters automotive. Don’t get demanding, Cas.”
“Can I drive?” asked Sam.
“Hey, sure. Cas and I will sit in back. And get comfortable.”
“No way!” yelled Sam as Dean playfully tossed him the keys. But the key ring ended up on the end of Cas's sword.
“I got them!” cried a victorious Cas, who immediately tore off for the parking lot. Sam and Dean exchanged a baffled glance, and then, laughing, took off running after him.
Fandom: Supernatural
Author: tikific
Rating: This chapter: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Dean/Castiel, Sam/Jess, Bobby, Gabriel, Victor, Charlie, Pamela, Benny, Ash, Jo/Gordon, Ellen, Uriel, Zachariah, Joshua, Balthazar, Chuck/Becky, Crowley
Warnings: Cursing, no beta, character death.
Word Count: 80,000 total
Summary: The duel of honor is still the law of the land: grievances large and small are settled by means of electrified swords that can be honed to incredible sharpness. When Dean Winchester, captain of the University of Kansas fencing team, finds himself one player short at the beginning of the season, he recruits Castiel, a mysterious boy trained from birth to compete in high stakes illegal sword fighting competitions.
Notes: In this chapter … well, I’m not going to spoil it. Just go read.
Dean yawned and stretched and regarded the small group of hog-tied street fighters with curiosity.
The residents of Bobby’s Singer’s house had been hauled out of bed at an ungodly hour by the frantic call from Jess, but had arrived at the Harvelle place to find the situation well in hand, as Jess, Jo, Ellen, Pamela, Charlie and Meg, all still in their pajamas, stood guard on the interlopers, who were now lying around Ellen’s driveway like so much discarded patio furniture. It was three guys, all larger than life. Dean recognized the biggest one, Virgil.
“So, you gals were havin' a slumber party?” asked Bobby.
“Yeah, and Jess noticed someone followed her here,” Jo told them.
“That'll teach you guys to threaten my lady!” grinned Sam, draping an arm around Jess, who stared steely-eyed at the prisoners, sword in hand, fuzzy slippers on her feet.
“My whole family is cops! And you didn't think I could defend myself?” Jess asked them. “Assholes!”
“Who knew that Smurfette could handle a sword?” sighed Virgil. And then his expression completely shifted and he said, sternly, “You should have known, idiot.”
“And what the fuck is wrong with Gollum here?” asked Meg. “He’s been talking to himself since he got here.”
“He is currently possessed by both the angel Virgil and the angel Shamsiel,” explained Cas.
“What?”
Cas sighed. “It's a long story. My father, Lucifer, was trying to use me as a vessel for Shamsiel. But Shamsiel chose Virgil instead.”
“You're too damn scrawny,” grumbled what was evidently the Shamsiel half of Virgil. “You need to get out,” Virgil wailed. “It's too crowded in here.”
“Hey, I would occupy Cas,” Meg told him. “Any time!”
“Oh, uh, thank you Meg,” said Cas, who seemed a bit dubious about the idea.
“Don't get any ideas,” grumbled Dean, who was glaring at Meg.
“By the way, Meg,” said Cas quietly. “You were on Crowley's team. May I assume-?”
Meg shrugged and actually appeared a little sheepish. “Yeah, you got me. I'll give her back at the end of the school year.”
“What?” Dean mouthed at Cas, who mouthed back, “Later.”
“Well, it looks like you gals got the situation well in hand,” said Bobby.
“I called Jess's people to haul these guys away,” grumbled Ellen, pulling her bathrobe more tightly around herself. “They don't exactly light up my driveway.”
“If you guys only knew,” laughed Virgil. “But they're too stupid,” he replied to himself.
“Knew what?” asked Dean.
“We're a diversion. Oh, don't tell them that! If I don't, how can we gloat! That's what villains are supposed to do. I thought we were the heroes?”
“Will somebody shut this guy up?” asked Jo.
“No, wait,” said Dean. He crouched down next to Virgil. “A diversion from what?”
“What we're doing back at Lucifer’s dojo. No, shut up. No, you shut up.”
“Cas?”
Dean turned. Cas already had his cell phone out. “He's not answering,” he said nervously. “Gabriel's phone is going to voice mail.”
“What's going on?” Dean asked Virgil.
Jo was down next to him, her sword at Virgil's throat. “What are they up to?” she asked.
“I'm not answering a woman,” grumbled Virgil. “That's sexist, you know. Oh, don't start, Shamsiel. Lucifer is there. He wants Castiel. See? That wasn't so hard. You gave away the surprise.”
“This guy is giving me a headache!” said Dean.
“I should go,” said Cas, his face pale.
“Oh, no!” Dean told him. “You're not pulling a disappearing act again! I'm going with you this time.”
“And I'm going with you guys!” said Sam.
“And I'm going with Sam,” said Jess.
“And we're all going with Jess!” said Jo.
“You’re not going anywhere, young lady!” Ellen scolded Jo. “Not without a decent breakfast!”
“All right, everybody, hold your horses!” said Bobby, holding up his hands for calm. “This loyalty brings tears to my eyes. But we're not any of us going anywhere without a plan.”
Some hours later, a semi pulled up in the parking lot of Lucifer’s dojo. It had Wellman markings on the side.
Someone hurried out to meet it. “I didn't think we were supposed to get a delivery today.”
“I have an order here for a gross of Wellman Wellies,” said the mulleted driver, officiously consulting his clipboard.
“But we thought they had liquidated?” said the guy from the dojo.
“Yeah, you're right. We're distributing the leftover inventory.”
“You want it or not?” asked the big guy sitting next to the driver, fingering the crucifix around his neck.
“We want it! Of course!” said the dojo guy.
Benny and Ash nodded at each other, and then ambled out, opened the back, and began loading cartons into the dojo's loading dock area.
“Aren't these cartons bigger than usual?”
“Yeah, the new guys who are in charge, they don't know how to do anything right,” sighed Ash.
Sam put down his binoculars and grinned. He shinnied back down to the ground from up in the tree branch where he’d been perched. “Hook, line and sinker,” he said. There were smiles and nods from the crowd.
“One less thing to be nervous about,” said Bobby. A rather large group of swordsmen were gathered around the tree, up the hill just out of sight of the dojo down below. “All right, you boys, that’s your cue.”
Cas hitched up his scabbard. “I still think it would be better for me to go alone.”
“And I still think, no fucking way,” Dean told him. “Come on.”
“Now, remember, you two,” scolded Coach Henricksen. “We talked about this. You just distract Lucifer. No heroics.”
“No, sir,” muttered Cas.
“Winchester?” said Henricksen, casting a critical eye on Dean.
“Yeah. No heroics,” Dean muttered. He was nearly bouncing up and down on his heels. “Can we go?”
“Good luck, you guys,” said Jess, who was nervously bonking the flat of her sword on her boot. She had switched out of her Wellman Wellies into real dueling boots. Several people nodded in agreement.
Suddenly, Meg popped out of the crowd, fisted Cas’s collar, pulled him down and kissed him full on the lips. There were a couple of hoots and catcalls, and Pamela might have whistled. “Good luck,” she told him when she finally let him go.
“Er. Thank you, Meg,” muttered Cas, cheeks flushed bright red, as he was released from her grasp.
“Hey, what about me?” asked Dean, but Meg merely arched and eyebrow and stepped back, smirking at him. Dean turned to see Cas was already stalking away, so he rushed to join him. “Hey, wait up!”
There was a rumble up the road in the other direction, and the Wellman truck pulled up nearby. Benny and Ash hopped out and came to join the group.
“About time you ladies decided to join us!” Henricksen shouted at them.
“We couldn’t miss the best part!” Benny declared, rubbing his hands together.
“You boys delivered the packages?” Bobby asked.
“Yeah, and they even signed off on it,” laughed Ash, holding up a clipboard. Bobby peered at it, and then broke out laughing. Henricksen looked over Bobby’s shoulder. On the signature line, there was a big, sloppy “X.”
“Not the sharpest tools in the shed, those angels,” cracked Bobby.
“So Meg is a demon? No way!” Dean quickened his pace, trying to keep up with Cas.
“Yes. It should have been apparent, as she was playing for Crowley.”
“But he was too skeezy for her? Another demon?”
Cas shrugged. He and Dean paused in the courtyard and watched the front gate close behind them with a slam. He shuddered. “She has said she will give up the possession at the end of the school term.”
“You know, she's kind of hot for you.”
Cas shrugged again. And then he turned and began walking through the courtyard towards the dojo's front doors.
“You do realize that, right?”
“Yeah, I think I figured that one out on my own.”
“So. You don't like girls? Not that I'm complaining....”
“I haven't thought about it. I like you.”
“I knew it! Is it my good looks? My winning personality?”
Cas gave him a look.
“Come on, Cas. Trying to cheer you up.”
“I don't know if I need 'cheering' in this situation.”
“Think of me like your street fighting partner. I mean, you guys are like comedy teams, right?”
Cas stopped short in the middle of the courtyard. “What?”
“Like comedy teams! You know, there's the straight man and the funny guy. And I'm the funny guy.”
“Why can't I be the funny guy? Aren't I funny?”
“You're very funny, Cas.”
Cas glared. “Now you're patronizing me.”
“Castiel!”
Cas and Dean halted their bickering and turned towards the sound of the familiar voice.
“Brought your boyfriend along again?” asked Lucifer. There were some other people gathered around him, but Cas recognized only a few of them. And Lucifer himself looked somewhat worse for wear, like he had a bad sunburn, or maybe stood in front of a microwave oven too long.
Dean snorted. “Are these all the guys you got left in the original, non-blown-to-Spaghetti Os state?” asked Dean.
“I will enjoy gutting you, Dean Winchester,” said Lucifer.
“You need to stand down. Father,” said Cas.
“Doubtful. You need to surrender, before I break your brother's other kneecap.”
Cas looked at Dean, who nodded. Steeling himself, he stepped forward, and bowed formally.
“Wait. You're … challenging me?” laughed Lucifer.
“You must answer,” said a nervous looking guy with glasses who stood beside Lucifer.
Lucifer tutted. “You're kidding, Raphael.”
“It would be dishonorable!”
“Oh for....” Lucifer turned to face Cas again. “All right. How about this. After I slice your legs off, you can watch me eviscerate him,” he added, pointing to Dean.
Dean grinned. “Hey, Luci, has anybody ever told you you're kind of fucked up in the head?”
“Shut up, mud monkey.”
“Speaking of monkeys, what happened to your monkey suit? You don’t look so good.”
“Inside. Now,” barked Lucifer.
“Why are we still getting the fucking boots?”
“I dunno. I'm hungry. Let's get something to eat before we unpack this shit.”
The light switched off in the storeroom and the two men departed.
The room was silent for a moment.
And then suddenly the tip of a sword poked out of one of the boxes. It tore down the seam, and the carton burst open.
“Hey, how you like the girl in the cake?” asked Jo, springing up. She looked around. She knocked on the other Wellman carton and whispered, “You okay in there?”
“Help me out,” came a muffled voice. “I'm stuck.”
“How did you get stuck, Gordon?”
“C'mon, Jo. This fucking box is too small.”
“We told you you're too big. Watch out!” she warned, and then took her sword to the carton.
“Ouch!” said Gordon, sitting up. “I think I wrenched my back.”
“Big baby. Come on.” She extended a hand and helped him to his feet. “You got your stuff?”
Gordon checked his backpack and nodded.
“Let's go find the controls for the gate and do the open sesame thingie!” She grabbed Gordon's arm and skipped off.
Sam was back up in the tree, squinting through his binoculars.
“You don't need to watch, kid,” Bobby called up. “I'm sure we'll notice.”
“I don't wanna miss Gordon’s signal.”
Bobby rolled his eyes. A pickup truck pulled up to where the group had gathered. Everyone turned to look as a dark-haired man emerged.
“Dad?” said Sam, who slipped down from the branch. “I thought you took off?”
“I heard you could use an extra sword,” said John, gripping his son by the shoulder.
“We could use all the help we can get,” said Bobby. “We need to give 'em a few minutes to get in position.
John looked around at the assembled crowd. “Where's Dean?”
Bobby and Sam exchanged a worried glance.
They both ducked as the explosion rocked the countryside.
“I think that was the signal!” cried Sam.
“Oh, you think?” growled Bobby. He snatched away the binoculars from Sam and peered down the hill. “Dammit, Gordon, you idjit. I think he blew off the entire top floor.” He put down the binoculars. “All right, everybody. Gate’s open: get mounted!”
“Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in,” gushed Zachariah as Lucifer and his men led Cas and Dean into the gymnasium. Cas noticed the smashed windows hadn’t been repaired yet, only boarded over. All the shattered glass had been swept away. He cringed and his feet throbbed at the memory.
“Where is my brother, Zachariah?” said Cas.
“Why aren't you gutted yet?” sniffed Zachariah. “Lucifer, you said you were going to finish him.”
“He challenged me to a duel,” said Lucifer. “And I'm bored. So bored.”
“A duel? We don't have time for that kind of nonsense,” Zachariah insisted. “You know that!”
“Quit being an old queen,” sighed Lucifer. “Maybe I like toying with my food. You! Raphael. You're my second.”
“You're really going through with this?” asked Zachariah.
The explosion threw everybody off their feet.
“That came from the roof!” said Raphael, looking up nervously.
“Everybody! They must have found a way in upstairs” said Zachariah. “This is just a diversion. Go!”
“Not you!” Lucifer told Castiel as his men rushed out of the room. “You're not getting out of this.”
Zachariah glared at Lucifer. “I'm going to go check on our prisoner. Get rid of them. Both of them. And make it quick.” He turned and stomped out of the room.
Dean turned to Lucifer and smiled. “You know, if you hurt Cas, you can’t use him as a vessel.”
“What?” Cas stared at Lucifer.
“What?” said Raphael, adjusting his eyeglasses. “You said.... You said we would be fine.”
“Why didn't you go upstairs?” Lucifer asked Raphael.
“I'm your second,” Raphael reminded him.
“He didn't tell you without the drug you need to bail your vessel?” Dean asked Raphael.
“Don't listen to him,” said Lucifer. “Come on, we are going to finish this.”
“Did you tell Zachariah you're planning to jump ship, Luci? Or did he know the other guys would realize their days were numbered?”
“On your mark, Castiel. Now.”
Cas raised his sword. And then he let it fall to the side. He held up his hands. “Go ahead.”
“No.”
“Go ahead. If this is a real duel, strike me.”
“Lucifer,” said Raphael.
Lucifer lunged, and smacked Dean on the back with his sword. He grabbed Dean and held him up, holding his sword at Dean's neck.
“You will cooperate this time,” Lucifer told Cas. “Or I will gut him.”
Cas ignited his sword.
And held it at his own throat. “And who will you use as a vessel next?”
“No, don't do it,” hissed Lucifer.
“Cas,” whispered Dean.
“No!” shouted Raphael. “This is dishonorable!” He pulled out his weapon and struck Lucifer in the shoulder. Lucifer dropped Dean, turned and plunged his blade straight into Raphael's heart, the blade sparking red as it pushed out through his back. Raphael fell without a word, eyes wide at the betrayal. Dean ran at Lucifer, who turned and hit him full force with the flat of his sword. Dean, unshielded, screamed and sunk to his knees.
And then Cas lunged at Lucifer, who parried, quick as a cat. “There's no walls here, boy!” yelled Lucifer. “You're mine.
A gaggle of Lucifer's men hit what remained of the roof.
“Why is there no one up here?”
“I dunno.”
One of the brighter ones scanned the countryside. “Hey, were we supposed to leave the gate open?”
“I don't think so. Why?”
“Well, because it's open.”
“Oh, we should shut it.”
“Maybe we could call them?”
“Call who?”
“All the swordsmen in the courtyard.”
“What swordsmen in the courtyard?”
The lackey pointed.
Several heads pondered.
“Oh, shit!”
And then they were running downstairs.
Except for the one lone guy.
“But, what should we do about the gate?”
And the he gasped, staring at the sword point that was sticking out of his body.
He crumpled to the ground as Gordon withdrew the sword. “Damn,” he said, shaking his head. “Not the sharpest tool in the shed. Jo?” Jo came out of hiding as well, and the two of them hurried down the stairs.
“Are you behind this?” asked Zachariah, who had just stormed into the small, windowless room where Gabriel was being held.
“What's the word, Zach?” said Gabriel. He was lying on his bed, playing with a yo-yo.
“Gabriel, did you let them in here?”
“Let who in?” sighed Gabriel, who could not have acted less interested.
“You know who!”
“Really not in the mood for guessing games right now.” He counted off on his fingers. “I had myself down to mope, and then maybe sulk.”
“Your brother is here!”
“Oh. Which brother?”
“Didn't you hear the explosion?”
“What explosion?”
“What the hell have you been doing in here?” thundered Zachariah, drawing his sword.
Gabriel lashed out with the yoyo, looping the string around Zachariah's throat. He pulled, hard, and brought Zachariah down, choking, to his knees.
Gabriel grabbed Zachariah's sword out of his hand and pushed him over. “I've been practicing yo-yo!” he whispered. And then he limped out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
“This way!” shouted Sam. “We gotta find Dean and Cas.”
“Upstairs or downstairs?” asked Bobby.
“Dad and I will take upstairs, you guys take downstairs,” Sam told them. Bobby and Henricksen nodded at each other and took off towards the kitchen.
“This place is like a labyrinth,” huffed Sam as he and John made their way up a narrow staircase.
“They were built that way,” John told him. “Intentionally. To discourage what we're trying to do.”
“You can't lay seige to a dojo?”
“No.”
Sam grinned. “Then we're idiots.”
Father and son shared a smile.
Sam signaled for them to stop just before they reached the landing. He had picked up the faint sound of floorboards creaking. He raised his sword.
And then leapt into the hall.
“Gabriel!”
Gabriel lowered Zachariah's sword. “Oh, shit. You scared me, Sam.”
“Have you seen Dean and Cas?”
“No. I've been looking for Balthazar. They stashed him up here somewhere.”
“How do you trap a guy like Balthazar?” asked Sam.
“There are ways,” said John. “Holy oil fire, for one. Do you smell smoke anywhere? That's a way to tell.”
Suddenly the door just down the hall blew off the hinges. Zachariah stormed out.
“Will you stay where I put you?” Gabriel yelled raising his sword.
Zachariah literally growled and raised a hand. Suddenly, Gabriel, Sam and John were hurled backwards down the hall and slammed into the wall.
“Uh, can he do that?” asked Sam, shaking his head.
“Yeah. He can do that,” said John, pushing himself to his feet.
“Shit,” said Sam.
“Hold him off you two!” yelled Gabriel. “I'm going to find Balthy!”
“Hold him how?” Sam yelled after him.
“He sure moves fast for a guy with a limp,” said John.
Lucifer had been right: the lack of a cage wall was killing Cas. Lucifer was bigger and stronger, and knew how to take advantage of it.
Cas was quicker, but that only seemed to help him run away.
His wounded feet ached. And he was growing increasingly worried about Dean, lying there, barely moving.
Lucifer lumbered closer again.
Usually, Cas would hitch some wall and get over him. But Lucifer was wily in keeping him away from the wall, or any object he could use to gain height. And he was absolutely relentless.
It was like fighting a god damn brick wall.
Cas stood and stared. Of course.
He gripped his sword, took a deep breath, and then rushed headlong towards Lucifer.
And then he continued running, right on up Lucifer, stepping on his midsection, and landing a great kick right under his chin.
He flipped and landed painfully but solidly on two feet, whirled around and drove the blade home. Lucifer was shielded, but Cas was cranked to ten Teslas and the blade went in true, right in the middle of his chest. Cas smelled blood and ozone.
Lucifer screamed. And then he crackled and jerked, like he was holding on to a live wire.
Cas dropped his hands from the hilt of his sword and stepped back, shielding his eyes as Lucifer flared up, his body burned to a cinder. He blinked in wonder. There was nothing left but his sword spearing through a charred cinder.
“Cas?”
Cas spun around and rushed over to Dean.
It was like fighting a whirlwind.
Sam would hit him high, and John would hit him low, but then Zachariah would wind up and slam them back again.
“I'm worried my shielding is gonna break,” Sam told John the sixth or seventh time they found themselves slammed into a wall.
“I'm worried my head is gonna break,” said John. “We gotta get in close, Sam. It's the only way.”
“It's suicide,” said Sam.
“Come on!”
Sam had no choice but to follow his father as John hurled himself at Zachariah. The angel raised his hand once again, pushing Sam away, but John managed to duck under the blow this time. They wrestled for a time, but it wasn't much of a contest.
Sam, scrambling to his feet, heard a familiar click.
“Dad! Your shielding!”
Sam looked on in horror as Zachariah pulled his father's sword from his grasp and landed a blow right across John's chest. His electrical shielding disengaged, John spasmed and went down.
“No!” yelled Sam, who managed to get a good, clean blow across Zachariah's back.
Zachariah spun around, impossibly fast for someone so large. He had John's sword up and began raining clumsy but powerful blows down on Sam. They fought down the corridor, Sam backing up as Zachariah stormed relentlessly onward. Sam stopped, his back against the balustrade. He glanced down at the drop, and then clung to his sword.
Zachariah let out a cry and stumbled sideways, as if he had been hit by a great force.
“Zachariah,” said Balthazar, raising his sword. “You have shed innocent blood.”
“How the hell did you get out?” barked Zachariah. “I left you in the holy fire.”
Gabriel arrived, puffing and holding up a fire extinguisher.
Balthazar smiled at Zachariah. “I have been waiting for over a century for this.”
Zachariah raised his sword. And then, quicker than you would have imagined, he turned tail and rushed to the stairs.
Gabriel sent his yo-yo out to Zachariah, catching his neck, but Zachariah continued running, pulling Gabe with him.
Sam kicked out a leg, tripping Zachariah right at the top of the stairs. He toppled down, and as Gabriel fell to the floor, clinging to the yo-yo string, he gurgled, and there was a thump.
Sam stared down the staircase as Gabriel and Balthazar exchanged a glance. They hurried to the top of the stairs to see Zachariah's body broken on the stairs, his neck twisted almost all the way around.
“Well, that worked,” said Gabriel.
“Dad!” said Sam, turning around.
“Oh, crap,” said Gabriel.
“Is that it?” asked Bobby as sirens wailed in the distance.
There was a rather impressive contingent of street fighters now sitting in the middle of the courtyard. A whole lot of Jessica Moore's family tree, uncles and aunts and cousins, milled around, making arrests and binding up wounds.
“Sam is still in there,” Jess told him. “He and Mr. Winchester.”
“Jo and Gordon got out. I haven't seen Cas or Dean yet though,” Benny told them. “We been occupied out here.”
“We didn't get much farther inside than the kitchen,” Bobby admitted. “Victor, can we get a party to go take a look around inside?”
“Chief Moore is saying no,” Henricksen told him. “They're worried about damage from the explosion.”
“I knew it was too damn early to call in the cops,” Bobby muttered. “Jody would let me in.”
“This ain't her jurisdiction,” Victor pointed out.
Suddenly a group of people came stumbling out of the building.
“Thank you, Lord,” said Benny, kissing his crucifix.
“Oh no,” said Bobby, running over to them.
Cas ran over to where Dean was crumpled on the floor. He went down on his knees, pulling Dean into his lap.
“Bye bye Luci?” muttered Dean.
“Yeah, there's not much left.”
Dean reached up and touched Cas's face. “He hit me good. I-” And then he slumped.
“DEAN!” Cas frantically checked Dean's neck for a pulse. “Dean. Oh no. Oh god no. Please!”
Cas blinked in astonishment as a dark hand pressed on to Dean's chest.
“Joshua!” he said, blinking back tears.
A soft glow emitted from Joshua’s hand. Dean jerked, and then opened his eyes.
“Dean!”
Dean blinked in confusion. “Whoa. What the fuck?”
“Dean, are you all right?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
“Castiel,” whispered Joshua, gently cupping Cas's face in his hands. “Listen to me. I am old. And grown weary. I have overstayed my time down here. This was the last I had, you understand? The very last.”
“Joshua,” said Cas, reaching for him. He gasped as his hand went right through him.
“Goodbye, my son,” said Joshua.
And then he was no longer there. Cas jumped up and looked around frantically. “Joshua?”
“What the hell happened?” asked Dean, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.
Cas crouched down next to him, wiping tears from his eyes. “I think you were … dead.”
“And there was a guy?”
Cas was searching the room with his eyes. “Joshua. He brought you back. But he's gone. Joshua!”
“Weird. Are you okay?”
“Yes. But Lucifer isn't.”
“Yeah, I noticed he's lost some weight.” Dean sniffed. “Smells like barbeque in here. Ew.”
Gabriel burst into the room.
“Gabriel! You're all right!” said Cas.
“Dean. Come with me. Come quick!” said Gabe. He yanked Dean to his feet, and the three hurried out.
The ambulance sat in the parking lot, light flashing red and white, red and white.
“We need to get you out of here, Dad,” said Sam softly.
“Not until I see Dean!” said John, who once again tore off the oxygen mask the attendant was trying to fix on his face.
“Dad!” yelled Dean. He hopped up into the back of the ambulance, next to Sam.
“We gotta get him out of here,” Sam told Dean. “The only reason they're holding it is Jess's cousin is driving.”
“Dean,” said John, reaching out a hand to clasp Dean's.
“Hey, you heard 'em, Dad. You get going, and we'll see you at the hospital....”
“Dean. I got hit full force with a ten Tesla blow.”
“Dad-”
“I've had a heart attack already. They told me, don't strain myself.”
Dean looked at Sam, who nodded sadly. “Dammit, Dad. I didn’t know. We didn’t know. Why didn’t you tell us?”
John gripped Dean's hand and stared into his eyes. “Dean. Take care of your brother.”
“Dad, I....” Dean felt his own heart was about to stop. “Yes. I-”
But John was looking over Dean's shoulder. “And take care of my son,” said John.
“Yes, sir,” said Cas, who was hovering over Dean's shoulder. “Always.”
John nodded. And then his eyes rolled up in his head, and his body spasmed.
“DAD!” chorused both Sam and Dean. The paramedic shoved Dean aside and stuck his stethoscope onto John's chest.
“He's in defib,” the paramedic told his partner. The Winchesters were hustled out of the ambulance as one paramedic grabbed the defibrillator padles while the other cut open John's shirt, pasting the pads to his chest.
Dean became aware that Cas's hand was on his shoulder. Frantically, he turned towards Cas. “Joshua! Where’s your boss? He healed me! He could heal Dad!”
Cas sadly shook his head. “No, Dean.”
“No, Cas, let’s go inside! Let’s go find him.”
“He warned me,” said Cas, who made no move to follow. “He warned me. You were the last. You were the last he had in him. Somehow. He must have known.”
Dean looked towards the ambulance. An attendant, probably a Moore, pulling up a sheet.
Sam was sobbing in Jess's arms. The world slowed down.
It was, they said, the biggest funeral they had ever had in the county. Dean didn’t even know the guy who ended up giving the eulogy, though he understood he was some politician from a neighboring state.
Dean was just relieved that he didn’t have to speak.
“He was telling the truth, Cas.”
Dean had tossed some dirt on the coffin, and then had just walked away and kept on walking, finally finding a stone bench in a relatively deserted corner of the cemetery.
Cas had followed him, of course. He sat down next to Dean on the bench and loosened his tie. It was the first time he had ever worn a suit. He couldn’t seem to manage tying the tie. For some reason, it always ended up flipped around backwards.
Bobby had taken him out to buy it, which was nice, because Bobby had a lot going on.
They all had a lot going on.
In the end, Bobby hadn't let Cas divest the entirety of Roman Enterprises. Instead, they had had one of Jess's more eccentric relatives (a cousin who for some reason had favored accounting over law enforcement) fashion something called a trust fund, which Cas would not have full access to until he turned 21. And then Bobby and he had withdrawn a little bit of money so he could get “a nice suit you can wear again.”
It was strange to have a suit when he didn't even have a closet, but Dean had managed to clear out enough of his dueling crap from one side of the closet in their room that there was space to hang it up. And Dean had seemed thankful to have something, anything, to do.
“The truth? You mean your father?” asked Cas.
Dean nodded. “He told us there was a world out there. One we didn't know. And it's true: half the people here, three quarters of the people here today, I don't know them, Cas. They're people Dad knew, people he helped. And, I never realized.”
Cas looked wistful. “It's good that your father is remembered well.”
“Oh, man. I'm sorry. I haven’t even asked about how you’re doing. Damn. Lucifer was your dad.”
Cas glared. “Lucifer was not my father. Joshua was my father. And Balthazar. Bobby. Coach Henricksen.” He smiled. “Even Gabriel. They are the ones who have been there. When I needed them.”
Dean hooked an arm around Cas’s shoulders and pulled him nearer. Cas laid his head on Dean’s shoulder, and they stayed like that for a while, until Sam walked up.
“Hey, Sammy.”
“So that’s where you guys snuck off to.”
“Sammy, I’ve been thinking.”
Sam smiled, though his were rimmed red. “You know you’re not supposed to have ideas while we’re in college.”
“No, I mean, seeing all these people here today. People Dad knew, people he helped. I feel like he was right all along: there’s a bigger world out there. And I need to do something to help.”
Sam smiled slyly. “Like maybe study for your midterm?”
Dean glared at his brother. “Hey, where’s Jess?”
Sam looked guilty, and then sat down on the bench next to Dean and Cas. “So, uh, you know Crowley’s team is all here?”
“That was … polite of them,” said Cas.
“They’ve all been through the demon jiffy wash, right?” asked Dean. “That’s gotta be weird.”
“Yeah, they’re not possessed any more. So it’s like they’ve all got personality transplants. Alastair is like this mousy engineering student.”
“So what about the others?” chuckled Dean, who knew his little brother all too well.
Sam leaned over and whispered, “So I went to talk to Ruby.”
“And?”
“She doesn’t even remember me!”
“Sammy. Did you want that chick to remember you?”
“Uhhhh.”
Dean placed an affectionate hand on his idiotic brother’s shoulder. “What say, after this, we go out and get really, really drunk.”
“You boys in the mood for an Irish wake?” asked Bobby, who was walking up with Jody Mills on his arm. He was ripping off his tie and tucking it away in a pocket.
“Yes, please, Uncle Bobby,” sighed Sam. Dean ruffled his hair, and Sam batted it away.
“I think your daddy would approve,” said Bobby, who pulled a flask from his vest.
“Where the hell did you get that, you old rascal?” laughed Jody. Bobby took a pull, and then offered it to Jody, who took a sip as well, and then the flask got passed around.
“By the way,” said Bobby, who was pulling something out of his vest pocket. “Found this in your dad's effects. I think John would have wanted you to have this.” It was a leather-bound journal.
“What is this, Bobby?” asked Dean, who took it and sat, hands running over the soft cover.
“That there is a hunter’s notebook. We all keep ‘em. I had one, back in the day.”
“I’m not supposed to know about this,” said Jody.
“It’s case notes, that sort of thing,” said Bobby. Dean had opened the notebook and sat flipping through the pages. They were all hand written, and the text was interspersed with a number of drawings. Dean recognized some of the pictures as sigils Bobby had used.
“Your father had lovely handwriting,” said Cas, who was hanging curiously over the notebook.
“Thanks, Uncle Bobby,” muttered Dean, who was immersed in the pages.
Benny and Ash had just strolled up. “Dean, your pappa was quite a guy. I was just talking to a young lady who told me about some of his adventures.”
“A really hot young lady,” snickerd Ash.
“Shut your mouth.”
“Benny,” said Sam. “You're picking up girls at my dad's funeral?”
“No. I mean....”
“You got her number?” asked Ash. Benny brought up his cell phone, smiling shyly.
“Well it's good you decided to attend your father's funeral, ladies,” cracked Henricksen, who walked up with Ellen and several members of the fencing team.
“Listen, everybody,” said Ellen. “Victor and I and Ellen and Ash are gonna go open up the place.”
“Wait. Me too?” asked Gordon. Jo grabbed his arm defensively.
Ellen gave Gordon a dubious look, but Henricksen gripped his shoulder and laughed, “Yeah, you too. Just don't blow anything up!”
“Are you kidding?” asked Ash. “That was awesome!”
“Everybody,” said Ellen, as people began to chatter. “I want you all to come over. Remember your Daddy the way he would have wanted to be remembered.”
“Can we play Henricksen darts?” asked Benny.
“Fuck. You,” said Henricksen, lighting a cigarette. “And besides, I'll kick your ass the way I always do.”
“Hey, baby bro!” shouted Gabriel, who wandered up with both Meg and Pamela on his arms. He reached over and ruffed Cas's hair. Cas slapped him away. “Hey, you can't hit a poor cripple,” said Gabe, who pulled out a yo-yo and began to do tricks.
“You taking up a new sport, Gabe?” asked Bobby.
“I might!” laughed Gabe, who was walking the dog.
“You coming with us?” asked Ellen, who was starting to wander away.
“Sure we are!” Gabriel told her, grabbing the arms of Pamela and Meg. “Uh, where we going exactly?”
“Do you even care?” cracked Pamela. Meg, who looked oddly shy and confused, wandered along as well.
The crowd began to disperse, headed in the general direction of their cars. “Uh, Meg-?” Dean asked Cas.
“It looks like she is no longer possessed,” said Cas, tilting his head as he watched people go.
“You disappointed?”
Cas smiled up at him. “Not really. No.”
Sam rose to follow them. “Well, time we headed out too. I should find Jess....”
“Wait,” said Dean.
Sam eyed his brother suspiciously. “What's up?”
“There’s something we gotta do first,” said Dean. He picked up the notebook. “I’ve been looking at Dad’s latest entry here. Come on, Sammy. We’ve got someone to visit. I’ll explain on the way.” Dean led off Cas, with a puzzled Sam following behind them.
The white boards really didn’t need washing, but Prof. Jaunoeil was very particular. “Janitors can’t be trusted, you know, I always say. They only work to collect their salary. Although they are better behaved, overall, than students. By the way, you can come out of there. I can hear you breathing from down here.”
Cas regretted, not for the first time, that this lecture hall had no windows.
“You sure, Cas?” asked Dean, who emerged beside him.
“Yes. I’m certain now, Dean.”
“You’re not even one of my students, are you?” said Prof. Jaunoeil, peering at Dean. “Well, that makes it a bit messy. But everyone will believe a street fighter has gone berserk. That was a strategic error on your part.” His blade was out and humming softly. Cas caught the faint whiff of ozone. And … something else.
“Rotten eggs,” said Dean as Cas unsheathed his sword. “I’m curious: what’s your real name, Jaunoeil?”
Jaunoeil – or the demon who was possessing him – smiled. Cas could have sworn his eyes glinted yellow. He shivered. “It’s an old family name. One of the first, actually. So. What gave me away?”
“You didn’t. Our dad sniffed you out. And Cas just confirmed his suspicions.”
“Unhappy with your midterm grade were you, Mr. Singer?”
“Cas is an angel.”
Jaunoeil went utterly silent. And then he howled and thrust out a hand, and Dean went sprawling backwards over a row of seats.
Cas leapt down towards the lectern, flourishing his sword. He struck at Jaunoeil, but caught nothing but air. He heard the hum of a blade and whirled around: Jaunoeil was behind him. He barely managed to parry the blow, and hopped up on the desk. He winced. His feet still hurt.
“You can't win,” said Jaunoeil, and Cas for some reason got a glint from his eyes, like he had when they'd confronted Crowley's team back in that godforsaken vacant lot in Manhattan.
Only there were not black. They were a sick shade of yellow.
Cas hopped off the desk, once again catching air with his strike. But this time he was sharp enough to whirl around and get in a few blows on Jaunoeil. But the the demon waved his hand, and Cas felt his blade click off. Jaunoeil hit him, hard, though Cas managed to parry with a dead blade.
The microphone squealed with feedback.
Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica…. intoned Sam's voice over the PA.
Jaunoeil glared at them. “I’ll be back!” he declared.
And then he threw his head back and belched out an acrid black smoke, which filled the room and then dissipated.
Jaunoeil collapsed, and Cas and Dean ran to his side.
“Hey, buddy, are you okay?” asked Dean.
Jaunoeil – the real Jaunoeil – blinked up at them, confused. “Are you here about your midterm grade?” he asked Cas.
“Was that awesome, or was that awesome?” asked Dean. “We make a kick ass team!”
The three boys strode across campus in the cool clear evening.
Sam eyed his brother. “Dean, I’m not clear what your role was, other than getting thrown across the room?”
“I’m the leader. Obviously!”
“He said he’d be back, Dean,” said Sam.
“Yeah. So, what we’ll do, you’ll research it, Sammy. And then we’ll be ready next time!”
“I’ll research?” asked Sam.
“Yeah. This is our new calling, Sam. Hunting monsters! The Winchester family business.”
“I thought Cas was a Singer?”
“Well. Hey, he's family. You can bring Jess next time, if you want.”
Sam looked dubious. “Jess has too many brains for this, I think.”
Dean extracted the car keys from his pocket. “Now, we gotta get our asses to Harvelle’s. There’s drinking to do!”
“Can I drive, Dean?” asked Cas.
“Baby? Hell no.”
Cas stared at him. “I thought I was an honorary Winchester now?”
“Except in matters automotive. Don’t get demanding, Cas.”
“Can I drive?” asked Sam.
“Hey, sure. Cas and I will sit in back. And get comfortable.”
“No way!” yelled Sam as Dean playfully tossed him the keys. But the key ring ended up on the end of Cas's sword.
“I got them!” cried a victorious Cas, who immediately tore off for the parking lot. Sam and Dean exchanged a baffled glance, and then, laughing, took off running after him.
