Chapter 1 - God's Mistake
"It's a brilliant plan, dearie," Rowena said with admiration. And at least this time, she was being sincere. Raguel had been extremely disappointed when a little time had passed and there'd been no Holy War. What on earth was Castiel waiting for?
Finally, Raguel had decided that he could wait no more. And that was when he had formulated his plan to jump-start the aggression. If Castiel was under the impression that Crowley had fired the first salvo, then the newly minted God would have no choice but to declare war. And it wouldn't take much to fan the flames, Raguel knew. As an Archangel, he was privy to the history between Castiel and Crowley, and the hostility between the two was legendary.
And, like many senior Angels, Raguel was partial to the quiet, cerebral game of chess. So the thought had occurred to him to play both ends against the middle, just for insurance. The Black team would be deployed to kill humans and any Angels who got in their way, and the White team would be assigned to kill Demons. That way, even if Castiel's people were able to dissuade him from the War, Crowley would surely go on the attack, forcing Castiel's hand. Raguel was playing a Gambit called the Four Knights Game. A simplistic game, to be sure, but it was only his opening move, after all.
Rowena hadn't really understood all his talk about Gambits, and such. She was an intelligent, calculating woman, but she'd never much cared for the game of chess. Too much sitting around, thinking. Bo-ring. She had to admire Raguel's cunning, though, even though it had been her idea to target Demons, too. But Raguel was taking complete credit for that move. That figured. Typical male ego, wasn't it?
They had another drink together.
Frank wiped his eyes with his shirt sleeve. He'd better get a hold of himself. Look at their faces. They thought...
"He's still alive," Frank said in a shaky voice, "but, just barely. They had to bring him back, but he's gonna need some more blood."
They all breathed sighs of relief. It was still one hell of a scary, precarious situation, but the way that he and Jody had come out here, their friends and family had thought the absolute worst.
Gail stepped forward. "Then, he needs me," she said. She told her brother and sister-in-law about her and Sam's clandestine trip to Cathy's office, and the fact that the files seemed to confirm that Gail and Rob did indeed have the same father.
"I'll go get the doctor," Frank said eagerly. As he wheeled around and left the room, Gail turned to Cas. "I'm going to get them to test my blood, and if they like what they see, I'll tell them to start taking it. Please, sweetie, try to hold onto your temper in the meantime. Please." He cocked an eyebrow, and she almost smiled for a moment. "Well, look at me, being all cute," Gail continued softly. Then she sighed. "OK, well then, at least take Sam and Dean with you when you go to see Crowley."
"No. I won't be doing that," Cas said, somewhat stiffly. "This matter is between Heaven and Hell, and me and my brother."
Gail gritted her teeth. "All right, sweetie. But please, please, use your judgement. I know how the two of you are, but please remember how many lives would be at stake if you start the war. You'd better make damn sure he's actually behind this, before you decide." She made a face. "But having said that, if he is, you have to annihilate him, Cas. If Rob dies, so help me..." Her voice broke, and she tried again. "So help me, Cas, the death squad year is going to look like a frolic in the park compared to the blood that will be shed when we take his Kingdom down, piece by piece."
"If you'll come with me, we'll take a sample of your blood and see if it matches," Rob's surgeon said from behind her. Gail reached up and pulled Cas's face down to hers, giving him a kiss. Then she followed Frank and Jody and the doctor down the corridor.
Cas's eyes followed his wife until she turned the corner and he couldn't see her any more. He was extremely troubled now. Hold onto his temper, indeed. His darling wife had no idea. None of them did.
"Have Bobby or Gail call me on Angel Radio, if there are any developments," he snapped at the Winchesters. But before they could reply, he strode angrily around the corner and then winked himself out of the hospital.
Gail and Jody were in the examination room, waiting for the doctor to come back and let them know if they could use Gail's blood for the transfusion. Frank had taken a walk to the washroom, and then he was going to call over to the house and make sure that everything was all right with Angela. Liz was being a real saint about this whole thing. Cas had said that Liz would stay there as long as they needed her to. She had certainly changed from the little brat who used to come over to the house and torment him, when she and Gail had been kids. Of course, to be entirely fair, Frank had been pretty rotten to the girls, too. But such were the relationships between big brothers and little sisters. Frank and Jody sure owed a big debt of gratitude to Liz now, though, and Cas, and Gail. All of them, really.
The nurse had left the room with a tube of Gail's blood in her hand, and now, Gail was sitting with her legs dangling from the examination table, waiting for the verdict. Jody was sitting in the metal chair across from her.
"I'm sorry we scared all of you like that," Jody said, breaking the tense silence. "I could tell by your faces that you thought the worst. But we've all had a very stressful couple of days, haven't we? Some, more than others."
Gail was scrutinizing her sister-in-law's face now. "What else is going on with you, Jody? Even at your birthday dinner, Cas and I noticed that you weren't quite...yourself."
Jody sighed heavily. "I have breast cancer, Gail. After they brought Rob back, I told Frank. That's where I was today, at my doctor's, in Sioux Falls."
Gail's mouth dropped open. "Oh, no, Jody. No."
Jody smiled grimly. "Yeah. So, I don't know who I might have royally pissed off, but I only know that the last day or so will go down in the annals of time as the suckiest ever."
"I'm so sorry, Jody," Gail said in a subdued tone. "You know that if there's anything Cas or I can do for you, we'll do it."
"Well, it just so happens there IS something you can do for them," the doctor said, as he strode into the room. "If you'll follow me, we'll get you set up in the transfusion room. You have the chromosome we were hoping to find. If this works out, we'll have to name it after the two of you. We've never actually seen that particular one before."
Gail and Jody exchanged small smiles as Gail hopped off the table. "Things are looking up," the Angel said to her sister-in-law. She reached out and hugged Jody impulsively. "It'll be all right, Jody. You'll see." But Gail was worried now. Even if Rob rallied, and Jody got treatment for her breast cancer, was her husband right now declaring a war that would threaten the lives of everyone they loved?
Cas had winked over to the abandoned store that was their usual meeting place. He snapped his fingers, and a bowl appeared on the floor, instantly containing all of the ingredients he needed for the summoning spell. All but one, that was. Being God enabled one to use shortcuts, but even that went only so far when you were summoning someone from the dark side. As for the final ingredient, though, in a place like this, that was no problem. He snatched a rat off of the floor and squeezed it tightly, emptying its blood into the bowl. Then he dropped the vermin's pulverized carcass to the floor and he murmured the incantation as he waved one hand over the other, bloody one, cleaning it.
Rudy popped into the store immediately. "My Lord," he said, bowing.
"I told you not to call me that," Cas said angrily. "I may be God, but I'm not your Lord."
Rudy bowed again. "My apologies, Castiel." His black eyes looked into Cas's blue ones. "I assume that you are here to confirm that you will hold up your end of the bargain?"
Cas waved his hand, and suddenly, Rudy was bound in chains. Then the chains attached themselves to shackles on the wall. Cas strode over to where Rudy stood, shackled, and put his blade to the Demon's throat.
"Your Demon was supposed to miss!" he yelled in Rudy's face.
The Demon was scared now. He hadn't heard back from his operative, so he'd assumed that everything had gone off without a hitch. It had been a simple enough task. Crap. Now, he knew why he hadn't received the report; one of the God Squad had obviously offed his designate. Great. Now he was the one who was going to have to deal with an angry God, in the form of an enraged Castiel, which was even scarier. Just terrific.
Rudy stammered, "I don't understand, my L - Castiel. I told my operative that she was only supposed to menace them with the gun, and tell them that Crowley said the Holy War was on. She asked me if she could fire a warning shot, to show them that Crowley meant business, and I told her that wouldn't be a bad idea."
Cas's blood was boiling. "Your 'operative' shot my wife and my nephew, multiple times! If that is your idea of a warning shot, perhaps you won't mind if I give YOU a warning, as well." He ran his blade down Rudy's cheek, cutting deep, and then he did the same thing on the other side of Rudy's face. The Demon hissed in pain, but he said nothing. If he got out of this meeting with just those couple of blemishes, he would consider himself extremely lucky.
Cas was seething. "My instructions to you were very clear. No one was to be harmed. Now, my nephew is clinging to life. If he dies, you will pray for death, with what I will do to you."
Rudy still said nothing, mainly because he had no idea what to say. The bitch had gone off book, all right. He should probably just have taken care of it himself. But when Castiel had approached Crowley's lieutenant with his proposition, Rudy had been eager to make the deal. It had occurred to him to wonder why God would propose such a deal, and he had inquired. But Castiel had shut him down, stating that it was none of his business. Did he want the deal, or not? If Rudy took care of that for Castiel, Castiel would kill Crowley in return, and then Rudy would be free to assume the throne.
But now, the plan had gone terribly awry. Rudy's operative had probably been one of the multitude of Demons who bore a grudge against Castiel. Maybe Rudy should have done a background check, or something. Boy, you couldn't trust anyone these days.
Cas was enraged, but a large part of the anger that he was taking out on Rudy was actually the loathing that Cas felt for himself. All this time, he had been deceiving everyone. He had come back from his desert pilgrimage acting like he was cured, and for a brief period of time, he genuinely thought that he had been. But then, the bad thoughts had started up again, until he had been in the throes of a full-blown obsession. The Holy War needed to happen. But by now, Cas knew that none of his loved ones shared his opinion. So, rather than keep arguing with Gail and everyone else, Cas had come up with this scheme. If Crowley were to be behind such a heinous act, Castiel's desire to enter into the Holy War would be warmly embraced by his family and friends. But no actual harm was supposed to have occurred, of course. Now, the plan had backfired beyond comprehension. If Rob were to die, Cas would...what? What would he do, exactly?
Rudy was still scared spitless, but he was also looking at Castiel with contempt. What kind of God made deals with Demons to threaten his own family? Castiel's reputation was legendary in Hell, with good reason. And some days, it was almost impossible to distinguish him from his designer suit-wearing brother. As one of Crowley's lieutenants, Rudy was privy to the true relationship between the two. In fact, there was hardly anyone who didn't know about it anymore. Rudy had understood Castiel's wanting to kill Crowley. Many of his own Demons did, too. The kinder, gentler approach Crowley had employed after the year of the death squads had only been temporary, and it had only been a bait-and-switch tactic on Crowley's part, anyway. The King was a cruel despot, pure and simple, and there were a number of up-and-comers who wanted Crowley's throne for themselves. But it was Rudy who Castiel had picked. They had known of each other by reputation for centuries, ever since way before the Angel Wars. Rudy had been hearing rumours that the modern-day Castiel had gotten soft, ever since he had gotten married and gotten an extended human family. But when Castiel had summoned Rudy to this abandoned store a few days ago, dressed in black clothes and looking almost manic, Rudy had seen for himself that the rumours of a tamed Castiel had also been a bait-and-switch.
"What are you going to do, Castiel?" Rudy sneered. "Kill me? Kill us all? Isn't that kind of the point of a war?"
"Then why did you agree to help me?" Cas asked the Demon, puzzled now.
"Because Crowley's gotta go," Rudy replied. "And because, once you get rid of him for me, I'm going to be the new King."
Cas smiled grimly. "Of what?" he asked. "I'm going to lay waste to every Demon, and then I'm going to destroy Hell."
"Yeah?" Rudy retorted. "Is that right? Not before I kill all of your people first, starting with that cute little wife of yours. You stirred up a hornet's nest, Castiel. You should have left well enough alone. Crowley wants no part of a Holy War. But clearly, for some reason, you do. Well, you'll have nobody but yourself to blame if the first casualty of the war comes from your own family."
Cas reached out and put his hand on Rudy's head. The white light came up through Cas's arm and out of the palm of his hand, into Rudy's skull. The Demon screamed in utter agony as the smiting filled every ounce of his vessel. His eyes and ears bled, and then turned black, as his flesh burned.
A moment later, Rudy's vessel crumpled to the ground, a black, smoking husk. Cas looked down at it dispassionately, wishing that he had the power of revival so that he could bring Rudy back, just so he could smite him all over again. He wiped his hand on his pants, a look of disgust on his face. That was what he got for getting involved with a repugnant individual like Rudy in the first place. If you lie down with dogs, you wake up with fleas. Everybody knew that.
Cas winked himself out of the abandoned store and over to Gail's bench, outside their old apartment building. He still came here every so often, when he needed some solitude. It was funny how many years had passed, yet he still came here, and he still thought of it as her bench.
He sat down heavily, lost in thought. What was he doing? Cas was God now, not some kind of hoodlum. But yet, here he was, getting mixed up with lowlifes like Rudy. He was regressing back to the type of individual he had been when he and Jason had been cohorts, during the time of the Angel Wars. When the end justified the means, and anything went, as long as you could get away with it. What the hell was he doing?
Cas hung his head, looking at his hands. There was a lot of blood on them, and not all of it was from way back when. Young Rob, the boy who had prayed constantly to Patricia for Cas's deliverance when Cas had been in prison, and then prayed to his God Castiel to keep everyone in their family safe, was fighting for his life right now. And if he died, Cas might as well, too. Was the Holy War so important that it was worth sacrificing his family over?
Castiel and Jason, Jason and Castiel. There had been a lot of dark secrets and even darker deeds between the two of them back then. Cas had worked very hard on himself to transcend the kind of individual he had been during that era, but Jason had not. Jason had embraced the darkness, so much so that he had ended up a vampire, somehow, and in Lucifer's employ. But when Lucifer had sent the former Angel out to lead one of his death squads, Jason had taken to the wind. Where was he now? Cas thought that they had killed Jason at that hotel in Romania, but he'd found out later that he'd been duped. Where would Jason be now? He seemed to have fallen off the face of the Earth. Cas had sent out The Eye to look for Jason as soon as he had become God, because Jason was a formidable enemy. His tactics were insidious and underhanded. He had violated Gail in Romania, successfully drinking her blood several times. So Cas had searched the world over for Jason, but Cas had been unable to find him. This had become an all-too-familiar refrain by now. How was he supposed to protect Gail and the rest of them from the worst of their enemies if he couldn't find them? And the same held true of Gail's father, Vincent. That man had a surprising array of powers, and Cas could tell from the brief confrontation they'd had at Quinn's place that Vincent was much more than just a human man who dabbled in voodoo. No, he was some kind of an ancient Being. But even God could only deal with one crisis at a time, and at the moment, Castiel's obsession with the Holy War had led him here.
What the hell was the matter with him? Even as he'd been doing all of those wonderful, Godly things, and having parties with his wife and his family, the notion of the Holy War had been picking away at his brain, like an itch that he couldn't...quite...scratch. Cas had told Gail that he was no longer considering it, but he had lied. It had become an all-consuming obsession for him now. But something was holding him back from simply declaring war. What would be his justification? There had been no hostilities from Crowley, not since the day that Cas and Gail had taken the King to their house and held him there, albeit briefly. Crowley had reacted violently on that day, but his reaction had been entirely logical. What was Cas's logic? Hate? Loathing? Those were emotions, and they were emotions he'd had for Crowley ever since the time of the Beginning. So what was the reason behind this sudden need for a war? Because Patricia had suggested to Castiel, when he had been her prisoner, that it was a good idea? He was supposed to be better than that now, wasn't he?
In order to feed his obsession and provide justification for it at the same time, Cas had come up with this idea. It was a stroke of brilliance, or at least he'd thought so at the time. His loved ones would back him to the hilt if they thought that it was Crowley who had started the aggression by attacking their family. Tonight, at the hospital, Gail, Dean and Frank had all told him that they would gladly take up arms and follow him into battle if he needed them to. But Cas didn't want them to. He'd only wanted their support. He didn't want his darling wife or any of their family to put their lives on the line. It was bad enough that the Angel cadets would have to do so. He'd sent out the word that the Academies were no longer mandatory, but the Angels kept on signing up anyway, because they believed in Cas. And how was he repaying them for their loyalty and devotion? By creating a war machine that would probably kill at least half of them.
Gail had told her husband that no one would ultimately win in a Holy War, and intellectually, Cas knew that she was right. So then, why did he persist in this goal to bring about death and destruction?
Cas heard Gail's voice in his head now. At first, he'd thought it was because he'd been thinking of her. He frequently heard her voice in his head when they were apart. Depending upon the reason for their separation at the time, Cas could call up any number of things she had said to him in the past to comfort him, if he was feeling sad, or to make him smile. He remembered every word of every phrase of every sentence she had ever uttered to him, ever since the first day they had met. She had no idea. Sometimes she got angry with him, accusing him of not paying attention to what she was saying, because he wasn't reacting to it. But nothing could be further from the truth. The fact of the matter was that he was soaking up every syllable, just like a sponge, so that he could refer back in the future to what she was saying to him now.
Gail would be devastated if she ever found out about Cas's dealings with Rudy. In point of fact, Castiel thought that the only thing that had been holding him back from just declaring war outright thus far was the fear that it would alienate his wife from him. Cas pretty much lived for her good opinion of him. He never stood taller than when she looked at him admiringly and told him she was proud of him. But she certainly wouldn't be proud of him now, would she? If Rob died, it would be Cas's fault. How would he ever be able to look his wife in the face again if that happened?
But her voice was not in his memory in this particular instance, or in his imagination, either. She was asking him how his meeting with Crowley was going, and advising him that they were taking blood from her now. Apparently, it had the chromosome they were looking for. She was hooked up to an intravenous apparatus that worked sort of like a vacuum cleaner, she was telling Cas now. It was siphoning the blood from her veins into an IV bag, which they were then going to take to Rob's room, to introduce its contents into his bloodstream. Then, if that improved his colour and his vital signs, they were going to repeat the process. She had told them that they could have it all, if they needed it. Whatever it took. The priority was to save Rob.
Cas's heart broke a little. His poor, sweet wife, giving up her vessel's life's fluid so that Rob might live. He popped himself over to the hospital immediately, and then he walked into the room where Gail was. He stared at the machine that was siphoning the blood out of her. She looked pale, just as she had in Romania, when Jason had been draining her blood for his own selfish purposes. Out of all of the billions of people on this planet, Jason had chosen to prey on Castiel's wife. He had been sending a message to his former compatriot, one that had been largely missed within the bigger picture of eradicating Lucifer. But now, there seemed to be some kind of symbolism at play, here. Jason's draining of Gail's blood signified death and darkness. But here she was now, laying on a stretcher in a bright white, antiseptic hospital room, having her blood drained in the hopes that it would provide life. Which was the more desirable option?
"Please don't take too much," Cas said to the nurse charmingly. He sat on the edge of the hospital bed, taking Gail's hand in his. The guilt was eating him alive. All of this was Cas's fault. All of it.
The nurse excused herself, leaving the room. "She said it'll probably take another ten minutes or so, until the bag is filled up," Gail told her husband. "So, while we're waiting, tell me: how did the meeting with Crowley go? I'm really hoping that you're not going to tell me we're at war. But if you tell me that you had to smite him a little, or a lot, please know that I'm perfectly okay with that." She was feeling a little giddy now. Just the fact that they were planning to transfuse Rob so aggressively had given her hope that they thought her nephew could rally, even though the doctor hadn't said as much out loud.
Cas opened his mouth, intending to confess to his transgressions and beg her forgiveness. But, before he was able to get up the courage, Rob's doctor strode into the room.
"So, how are we doing?" he asked Gail.
"I don't know about YOU, but I'M fine," she quipped. "You know, I always thought that was a cliche, when medical personnel use the royal 'we' to ask how their patients are doing."
"Sorry, I guess I regressed there for a minute," the doctor said, checking the blood bag. "I binge-watched Grey's Anatomy last night. That Patrick Dempsey really IS McDreamy."
Gail's lips twitched. "I like this guy," she said to Cas.
"Doctor, what is Rob's prognosis?" Cas asked the man quietly.
"It's too soon to tell," the physician responded. He unhooked the bag from its stand, sealing it. Then he removed the needle from the crook of Gail's arm and placed a piece of gauze there, telling her to press down on it. Then he picked up the blood bag. "We'll start the transfusion immediately. If there's any change to the patient's condition, we'll let you know."
Cas stood from the bed, facing the doctor. "Please tell me that he'll be all right," Cas said earnestly.
"We're doing everything we can. That's all I can tell you," the doctor said curtly. Then he walked past Cas and left the room.
"Cas!" Gail exclaimed, and her husband rushed back to where she lay. "Are you all right?" he said, agitated. "Do you feel all right? Do you need me to get someone?"
"I saw it, Cas," she said, starting to smile.
"What? What did you see?" he asked her, puzzled.
"When he took the bag off the stand, I saw a glint of gold in my blood, just for a second. He's going to be all right, Cas. I'm sure of it," she said excitedly. Then, when her husband remained silent, her heart sank. "What happened with Crowley?" she asked him again.
"I didn't go to see him," Cas told her. "I thought it wouldn't be a good idea to meet with him while I was angry."
She was scrutinizing his face. Since when? "That was smart of you, sweetie," she said slowly. "So, where did you go, then? Sam and Dean said you just suddenly disappeared."
"I...I went somewhere for quiet contemplation," Cas said miserably. If Rob was going to be all right, there was no need for her to know, he told himself now.
Gail was looking at him closely. Why did she have the very strong feeling that Cas was lying to her? But if he hadn't gone to confront Crowley, then where would he have gone that he didn't want her to know about? She swung her legs off the bed and made to stand up, but her knees buckled. Cas caught her, and he held her steady until she regained her equilibrium.
"How much blood did they take from you?" he asked her, his eyes narrowing.
"Just what you saw here," Gail replied. "I'm just lightheaded from the stress, I guess. But I told you, if it works, I'm giving them more. As much as they need. But in the meantime, while we're waiting to find out, let's go."
"Go?" he repeated blankly. "Go where?"
"To see Crowley, of course," she said pointedly. "I'm going with you. We're going to get our answers. And don't worry. If they're the wrong ones, I'll back you all the way, Cas. Whatever you decide to do. But, let's just make sure, first. Okay?"
Now, Cas was pretty much painted into a corner. It would be pointless for him to confront Crowley when he knew that Crowley wasn't the slightest bit responsible for what had happened. But Gail was going to insist, and it would look too suspicious if Cas demurred. "Where is everyone else?" he asked her, stalling for time.
"Frank and Jody and Bobby are in the waiting room," Gail responded. "Jody made Sam and Dean go back to the bunker to get some sleep, since it's gotten so late now."
Cas nodded. It was just as well. He didn't want to have to involve anyone else, if he could help it. He sent a message to Bobby on Angel Radio, asking their friend to contact him immediately if there was any change in Rob's condition. Then he sighed, and he took Gail's hand.
"Explain yourself," Cas snapped the instant Crowley appeared.
The King of Hell appraised him coolly. "Still a master of the social graces, I see," he said sardonically. "Too busy liberating all those souls, I imagine. How is Paul enjoying Heaven? More so than the first time, I daresay. Well, he's your problem now. Maybe you should hide the white pillowcases when he comes over, though, sweetheart. We wouldn't want him to misunderstand."
Cas was aware of the delicate dance he was going to have to perform now. On the one hand, he knew very well that Crowley was going to disavow any knowledge of an attack, because the King of Hell had not been behind said attack. But on the other hand, if Cas didn't act as if he was enraged, Gail's wind would be up. This was a bad idea. But he'd had no choice.
Gail felt no such reticence. "You said you didn't want the Holy War!" she exclaimed.
Crowley looked at her, surprised by her tone. "That's right; I don't," he said calmly.
"Then maybe you wouldn't mind explaining to me why you sent one of your Demons after Rob and Dean and me, to shoot us with a gun!" she yelled.
His mouth dropped open. What? "I didn't, sweetheart," the King said, puzzled.
"Yeah. Right. I guess we shot ourselves, then," she said acidly. "My nephew is in the hospital right now, fighting for his life. But it's you who's obviously got the death wish. I'm going to enjoy seeing Cas annihilate you."
"Wait a minute," Crowley said, holding up his hand. "What are you talking about?" Gail told him, and the King added, "Your information is faulty. I gave no such order. What did the shooter say, exactly? And will young Rob be all right?"
Gail looked at him, wide-eyed. Then she looked at Cas. Unbelievable. Cas realized he'd better say something. "As if you care," he said angrily. "Don't pretend that you are concerned." He slowly raised his hand. "I could wave this hand, and burn you right down to the ground. I'm not so sure I shouldn't just do it, anyway. The last time I saw you, you were holding a shard of glass to my wife's neck. Goodbye."
Cas made a motion as if to wave his hand, and Crowley yelled, "Wait! I think I might know what this is all about."
Cas lowered his arm slowly, and Crowley continued, "There's a sect of my Demons that has gone rogue. My sources tell me that they have been vowing to take out all of the Hunters, and the Angels that support them here on Earth. But they're not working at my behest," he said quickly.
"My nephew is clinging to life right now," Gail hissed. "You'd just better hope he recovers."
Crowley sighed. "I told you, Gail, it wasn't me. But, if you want the truth, it would probably be better for everyone all around if he did not survive."
"What did you just say to me?" Gail said, raising her voice. She threw her arm out and sent a golden beam in Crowley's direction. He lifted one of his arms, deflecting it easily.
"You have ten seconds to explain that remark," Cas said, tight-lipped. But he stepped in front of Gail, just in case. "Why are you coming for my family, all of a sudden? You claim you don't want the war, but your actions would seem to suggest that you do."
"I told both of you, Castiel, they're rogues," the King said through gritted teeth. "There are two teams. The Black team's assignment is to dispatch humans, and the White team are assigned to deal with the Angels."
"He's lying! The female Demon who attacked us was wearing red!" Gail yelled to Cas. "And just how does he know so much about this, if he's not behind it?"
Crowley's forehead wrinkled. "Red? Are you sure?"
Gail was pushing at Cas now. "Get out of the way, and let me kick his ass!" she fumed.
"Restrain your wife," Crowley said testily. "I'm making allowances due to her family trauma, but I won't stand here and let her take potshots at me without retaliating, either."
"Gail, please," Cas pleaded with her. "Please remain calm. Let us ascertain exactly what is going on, first."
Gail stopped jostling with him, but she was glaring daggers at Crowley. It was strange, really. She'd thought she would be the one who would be restraining Cas, not the other way around.
"Explain," Cas said curtly.
"From what I've been able to find out, the two teams wear either Black or White clothing. They will fan out, using the state as a kind of chessboard. I've been having their movements monitored for a while, and it looks like they're getting into position. But, as far as I knew, they hadn't actually struck, yet. An attack from a female in red, though? That's news to me."
"Why didn't you tell me about this before?!" Cas exclaimed, and now, he was genuinely enraged. Was Crowley telling him that there actually WAS a plot to attack Cas's loved ones, one he knew nothing about?
Crowley looked at Cas, raising an eyebrow. "Hello. King of Hell. The less of my enemies that exist, the better for me. But, I have always told my people to leave your lot alone. Besides, my intel suggested that no such move had yet been made. This rebel cadre has obviously not only thumbed their noses at my edict, they have specifically targeted those nearest and dearest to you."
"And what would their endgame be, do you suppose?" Cas said, intrigued. Gail looked at him sharply. There was a strange quality to his voice now, a casualness that put her on alert.
Crowley had noticed it too, and he was trying not to smirk. Look at the look on Gail's face. As long as she had been with Castiel now, it was amusing to see that she was still surprised at what a cold and calculating individual he could be sometimes. "Isn't it obvious?" Crowley said in response to Cas's question. "They expected you to rush over here and threaten to smite me, thinking that I had ordered the first shot across the bow. And here you are, right on cue. Well, I've told you before and now I'll tell you again: I have no desire to wage war with Heaven, Castiel. I said that I would have no choice but to fight it, if YOU were to initiate it. But, and I don't see how I can be any clearer on this: I don't want it, Castiel. So now, what we have to figure out is: Who is it who wants you to THINK that I want the Holy War, and how can we figure out where they'll strike next?"
Cas's head was spinning. This thing had taken on a life of its own. And here he had been, thinking that this little jaunt was going to be a complete waste of his time. Castiel had learned his lesson, he told himself now. No more scheming. If Rob got through this all right, Cas was going to forget about the Holy War. Whether he would actually pluck up the courage and fall on his metaphorical sword, telling Gail about his deal with Rudy, would remain to be seen. But apparently, there was actually a real threat out there. Castiel's primary emotion right now was relief. Imagine a conspiracy theorist who had received confirmation that every plot that they had ever imagined was absolutely, one hundred percent true.
He grabbed Gail's hand. "I'll be in touch," Castiel said tersely, winking her away.
It was shortly after dawn the next morning, and even though the hour was early, the day was already shaping up to be an eventful one.
Frank and Jody had been allowed to visit Rob for a few minutes, and they were standing by his bedside now. The doctor had advised that there had been no change in their son's condition, but he had not gotten any worse, either. If no improvement was seen by mid-morning, perhaps the doctor would ask Gail if she felt healthy enough for one more donation. Frank's lips had twitched briefly, and he had said he didn't think that would be a problem.
The last drops of Gail's blood were entering Rob's body now, and as it entered his veins, Rob felt a warm sensation, kind of like the way he felt when his mom kissed him on the forehead, or his dad gave him a hug.
Rob had been teetering on the border between consciousness and unconsciousness for most of the night, but he was awake now. His eyelids fluttered. "What time is it?" he asked his parents.
Jody gasped. She put her hand on his arm. "It's morning," she said softly. "How do you feel?"
Rob opened his eyes. "I feel great, Mom." He moved to sit up in bed. When he met with resistance, he looked beside him at the IV pole, and the life support machine. "What's going on?" he asked his parents. Then a look of comprehension crossed his face. "Oh my God! Are Uncle Dean and Aunt Gail okay?"
Frank started to cry silently. After everything his son had just been through, the first thing he wanted to know was how his aunt and uncle were doing, Frank thought. "Relax, kiddo, they're doing fine," he told Rob. "I'm going to get the doctor," he told Jody. He took one last look at Rob and then hurriedly left the room.
"Can you help me get this thing out of my arm, Mom? It hurts," Rob said to Jody. "Man, I hope Cas got his car back. I'd hate to have to pay for his ticket out of my allowance if they towed his car." Now Jody was crying too, and Rob smiled. "Sorry, Mom. I was just trying to be funny, like Dad, or Aunt Gail. I'm gonna be fine. Don't worry about me. It's YOU we have to worry about, now. I'll come visit you when you have your operation, and I won't leave for Vancouver until they tell us that they got it all. OK?"
Now Jody was bawling. Of course Rob knew. He always knew. But, it had certainly saved her the stress of trying to think of the right words to tell him, anyway. That thought made her laugh, and now she was crying and laughing at the same time.
"Can I have a hug?" Rob asked her. She sat down on the edge of the bed and held her son.
"Come on, Sammy, let's go," Dean urged his brother. "I wanna get to the hospital."
"I'm coming," Sam told him. He closed the door behind him and came into the bunker's garage, carrying coffee in travel mugs for the both of them. "I thought we wouldn't want to waste time by going through the drive-thru."
"Thanks," Dean said, nodding to his brother in acknowledgement.
Dean started up Baby and then pressed the button on the remote to open the garage door. He pulled the car out of the garage, waiting until the door closed behind them. Ever since Lucifer, he and Sam had been a lot more security-conscious. Sam had even installed a closed-circuit camera just under the overhang by the steel entry door, and it was attached to a motion sensor. It was a great idea, but Sam's innovation didn't help them in this instance.
A half dozen Demons suddenly appeared, surrounding the car. They were all armed with handguns, and they began shooting at the brothers. There were a couple of things that saved Sam and Dean from immediate execution. The first was the fact that Demons were, by and large, bad shots. Most of their killings were accomplished at close range, and most of the entities they killed by blade were otherworldly beings, or humans whose necks they were able to snap instantly. They were unused to firearms, and to the kick associated with larger guns. So their first barrage missed the brothers altogether. Then, as they attempted to correct their aim, the Demons on either side of the car tried, succeeding only in winging each other.
"Hit the deck, Sammy!" Dean yelled. He mashed his foot on the accelerator as Sam dove to the floor of the car. It had rained overnight, and the car spun in the mud. But then the Impala's tires caught, and the car fishtailed, spraying mud on the Demons. Dean left them in his rearview mirror, coughing and sputtering, wiping mud out of their eyes.
"Call Cas," Dean instructed his brother as he hightailed it down the road, but Sam was already climbing back into his seat, his cell phone in his hand.
A moment later, Cas appeared behind the bunker. "Dean is right; Demons really ARE stupid," God remarked. He snapped his fingers, and the group of Demons disintegrated, one by one. He waited another few moments, but there were no further appearances, so he winked himself back to the hospital.
"I'm getting really tired of those black-eyed asshats shooting at me," Dean was grumbling as he and Sam entered the hospital. "I'm gonna start carrying a piece, everywhere I go."
"That's a good idea, but we'll have to leave them in the car when we get here," Sam remarked. He pointed to the metal detectors near the entrance. Their presence was a sad commentary on the kind of society they lived in these days, Sam thought.
The brothers took the elevator upstairs. Cas had called Sam back as soon as he had dispatched the Demons to let them know that it had been handled. He'd told them that he and Gail and Bobby were in the waiting room, that Rob had woken up earlier, and that the youth had seemed to have made a full recovery. He was off the machines, and after a couple of tests were conducted, he might even be released to go home.
The mood in the waiting room was jubilant. Gail sprang out of her chair and ran over to the brothers, giving them each big hugs.
"I'm starting to think it's you," Gail quipped to Dean. "Maybe if you were a bit more polite, people would stop shooting at you."
"Very funny," Dean said, making a face.
"He's going to be all right, Dean," she said softly, and he embraced her tightly, fighting back tears.
"Hold on. I'm getting something," Cas said to the group. A moment later, he added, "There's a report coming in. A small group of individuals dressed in white went to a Demon safe house on the east side of the city and slaughtered all of its occupants."
They all exchanged glances. When Cas and Gail had gotten back from their meeting with Crowley, they had shared their conversation with everyone.
"How do ya know he's telling the truth, Cas?" Bobby had asked.
"What he said was too specific to be anything other than the truth," Cas had replied, but Bobby was shaking his head. "No, what I mean is, how do you know he's not lying to you about giving the order?"
Frank was frowning. He and Jody had been shooed out of Rob's room by the medical staff, while they ran some tests on the boy. Gail's brother was very interested in this discussion, for obvious reasons. "I'd like an answer to that question, too," he'd said.
Cas had gazed steadily at the men. "Because Crowley knows that I am God now, and that I could obliterate him with just a wave of my little finger. Yet he stood there facing me, swearing that he was not responsible. So he is either telling me the truth, or he's running the biggest bluff of his existence. And if he's lying to me, I can find him anywhere. I could even go down to the depths of Hell and drag him out. He knows that. Therefore, I must conclude that he is telling the truth."
Frank heaved a sigh. "OK, Cas. Since it's you, I'll accept that. But then, who IS behind it, and more importantly, what are we gonna do about it?"
Gail was looking intently at Cas. There was something her husband wasn't telling them. Maybe a few things. "Wait a minute," she said. "Crowley told us these so-called rogues are targeting humans and Angels. Black for humans, White for Angels, that's what he said. The guys that went after Sam and Dean were wearing black. Check. The girl who shot us was wearing red, though. OK, maybe she was confused because we were two humans and one Angel, or maybe she just didn't get the memo on the dress code. Whatever. But Cas just said that a group of individuals dressed in WHITE just killed a bunch of DEMONS. Demons, not Angels. Is anyone else as confused as I am?"
"Did you order the strike, Cas?" Bobby asked pointedly, and Cas's blood ran cold. Then he realized what Bobby meant. "No, Bobby, I didn't order those Demons' murders as retaliation," he said quietly.
"Well then, what the hell is going on?" Dean asked angrily.
While they were all standing there, puzzling over this, a voice from behind them said: "I'm ready to go home, now."
Rob's doctor was pushing Rob towards them in a wheelchair. Rob was smiling. "You should see your faces."
"Just like that? We can take him home?" Jody said, open-mouthed.
"Your son's recovery has been nothing short of miraculous," the physician told her. "You all must have been praying a lot." As the group smiled at each other, the doctor looked at Gail. "I'd certainly like to run a few tests on your blood, sometime," he said to her. "You must have some kind of a magical ingredient in your veins."
"Nahhh, just a lot of wine," Dean wisecracked, and Gail elbowed him in the ribs, hard.
"I'll get going, now," the doctor said. "I have actual sick people to attend to." He touched Rob's shoulder gently, smiling. "Go home, Rob. Enjoy your life."
They all thanked him, and when he was gone, Rob got out of the wheelchair. "I don't need that," he told them. "He said it's hospital policy, but I think it's kind of stupid."
"Are you sure you're OK?" Bobby asked the boy.
"Yeah, I'm fine, Grandmaster B," Rob replied.
"Wait, what?" Dean said.
"Bobby and I have been playing chess online," Rob answered. He moved over to where Bobby stood and gave the Angel a gentle nudge. "We were joking about how I used to call him Grandpa God. He said 'Grandpa' made him feel old, and besides, Cas is God, now. So, since he's been teaching me how to play chess, we came up with that name."
"Sorta like Grandmaster Flash," Bobby told the group, his beard twitching.
"What do YOU know about Grandmaster Flash?" Frank asked Bobby, while Sam said, "You play chess?"
Bobby sighed, looking at Frank. "OK, first off: Just because I have Lynyrd Skynyrd on my playlist, that don't mean I can't appreciate a little Parliament Funkadelic too, from time to time." Then he looked at Sam. "And secondly, how many times do I have to tell ya, boy? Southern doesn't automatically equate with stupid. When I was on the campaign trail in Heaven, I noticed that a lot of the older Angels enjoy a game of chess. I played a little when I was here on Earth before, but I never really had much time to become a real student of the game. So when Rob suggested he and I should play a game with each other online, I said how about chess?"
There was that reference to the game of chess again, Cas thought uneasily. Killers wearing black and white, attacking humans, Demons, and, potentially, Angels. Moving around the city, getting into position, like men on a chess board. Older Angels, playing chess in Heaven. Grandmasters. Cas's knowledge of popular culture had been greatly helped along by Metatron, and it had grown exponentially since, but he had no idea what a Funkadelic Parliament would be. Was it some form of international government, maybe? But he did understand chess. Many people thought it was a slow, boring game, but not Cas. One of the many, many things Cas loved about his wife was that she enjoyed the sport of baseball, and baseball was really just chess played with live human beings. Now, it seemed as if there was a Grandmaster behind the scenes, using Demons to try to manufacture a war between the two realms. The diseased part of Cas, which was a regrettably large part of him, was itching to retaliate, as Bobby had suggested, for the perceived attack on his family. Why not take advantage of the golden opportunity he had been given? But his head was reeling now. If Crowley wasn't behind these new attacks, who was? Perhaps Crowley WAS lying, but Cas really didn't think he was. Who would benefit if the Holy War was triggered?
"Cas!" Dean exclaimed, waving his hand in front of his friend's face.
"I'm sorry, Dean. I was woolgathering," Cas said mildly.
"I just wanted to thank you for taking care of those Demon sons of bitches for us," Dean remarked.
"Oh. You're welcome," Cas said absently. Then he looked at Frank and Jody. "Bobby will escort the two of you and Rob home, and Gail and I will go with Sam and Dean. Until I can find out what is going on, I don't want any of you going anywhere without an escort. If you need anything, anything at all, you call me."
"Don't worry about us," Frank said, clapping his brother-in-law on the shoulder. "We're exhausted. We're going straight to bed when we get home. Bobby, if you feel like hanging around for a while, maybe you want to keep Rob company. If you want the real thing, I'm pretty sure I have an actual chess set in the basement. Or you could invite George Clinton over, if you want. Just keep the decibel level down on the funk music."
Bobby made a face. "You think you're pretty funny, don't ya?"
"I am now, Bobby," Frank said happily, putting his arm around Rob. "I am now." He looked at Gail. "And, you..." His throat closed. "Come here. Group hug."
Gail moved forward, and Frank hugged both her and Rob to him. "I owe you, big time," Frank said to his sister in a thick voice. He kissed her tenderly on the forehead, and then, so did Rob. Gail noticed with amazement that Frank and Rob were almost the same height now. When had that happened?
"OK, you guys had better get some rest. We'll see you soon," she said.
But Frank brought Jody into the circle, and they all shared another hug.
"You'll be fine," Gail said to her sister-in-law softly. She was being discreet, because she wasn't sure who knew, and who didn't. "Keep us posted."
"I will," Jody responded. "You're a true Angel, Gail. Thank you, from the bottom of our hearts."
Finally, Bobby led Frank and his family to the elevators. As they went, Gail could hear Rob asking Bobby why the former President of the United States would be coming to their house to play funk music, and she and Sam looked at each other, then burst out laughing.
Dean looked at Cas. "OK, let's go, your Lordship. To tell you the truth, I don't mind an escort, and I don't even mind bring on lockdown for a day or two. We didn't get a lot of sleep, either. And I think one of those Demon asshats might have grazed Baby, so I might have to do a little body work on her."
"That was the real reason he sped away so fast," Sam joked. "He didn't care if there were any bullets in me, he just didn't want any in the car."
Dean smirked. "It was pretty funny when I spun out and gave them all a mud bath, though. I could see them in the rearview mirror. It's too bad we couldn't have gotten a video of that, and put it on YouTube."
"Do you really believe Crowley, or were you just telling Frank that to calm him down?" Sam asked Cas.
Cas was thoughtful. "I'm inclined to believe him, Sam. Let's go. Gail and I will take you home, and I will be in touch, as soon as I have ascertained what is going on."
The four of them walked towards the elevator. Gail glanced back for a minute. They would likely be back here very soon, holding another vigil for Jody. She sighed. When would enough be enough? She took Cas's hand.
VIGNETTE - LOVE DON'T LIVE HERE ANY MORE
Cas and Gail were lying in bed together in their suite in Heaven. As soon as they'd returned from the bunker, she had burst into tears. It had been a very stressful couple of days, but she had been trying to hold it in as much as possible. All Frank and Jody would have needed was her, hanging around long-faced, bawling her eyes out. Besides, her primary emotion following the attack had been anger. It was like that old cliche about couples starting to behave like each other, the longer they had been together. Gail had figured that she and Cas could bond together over their rage. But a funny thing had happened: Cas was way calmer than she had expected him to be. In fact, he hadn't lost it once, since this whole thing had started. There was something going on with him, all right. She'd thought that maybe he knew things he hadn't wanted to disclose in front of their human family, so she hadn't pushed him. When they'd gotten here to their suite, she had planned to ask him what was REALLY going on. But when she'd opened her mouth to ask him the magic question, that was when the waterworks had come.
Cas had taken her in his arms, sitting her down on the living room couch. He'd held her for as long as she'd needed, comforting her. And then, being who they were, one thing had led to another. He had started to kiss her, she had kissed him back, and they had taken comfort from each other. Then there had been a trail of clothes shed, leading into the bedroom, which was where they were now.
They had made love once, and it had been a quick, passionate encounter. Gail was laying with her head on her husband's chest, catching her breath. Then she looked up at his face, and she smiled. There was an errant lock of hair that had fallen across his forehead. She reached up to sweep it away from his face, and he grabbed her hand at the wrist. She was momentarily surprised, but his grip was gentle. He started to kiss her fingers, and then he licked her knuckle, and she relaxed.
Cas had panicked there, for a moment. He had seen her move her hand towards his forehead, and he had been frightened, thinking that she was looking to search his mind. So he had grabbed her hand. But then, he saw the look of surprise on her face, so he had improvised. Cas had never had a problem making love to any part of his wife. Then he leaned down to kiss her on the mouth, using his tongue, and she touched him. And then he was on top of her, making love to her again. She wrapped her legs around him and he pushed harder into her, watching her face. When he knew that she was close, he leaned down to kiss her again, and she reached up to touch his face. Now he was paranoid again, although he really shouldn't have been. She always touched his face. It was because he had a guilty conscience. Still, he grabbed her hands and held them away from him again.
"I love you, my darling," he told her, because it was true, but he also said it to distract her from his reaction. Then he pushed forward again, hard, and when she told him that she loved him too, he was finally able to finish.
Gail's wind was definitely up, now. Truthfully, she had only been looking to show him her affection by touching his face, as she so frequently did. But clearly, he thought she was attempting to search his mind. Fine, then. If he wasn't willing to tell her what he was thinking about, she was damn well going to find out, anyway.
Cas could tell that Gail was not yet satisfied. He moved down her body and lifted her hips, licking her between her legs. She began to make her sounds, so he pulled her closer. He could feel her hands in his hair as she began to cry out. He smiled, and -
- There was a bright white flash, and Gail shielded her eyes. It dissipated after a moment, and she looked around. She was standing in their bedroom at their house on Earth. She could see Ralph on the nightstand, leaning against the lamp. Had Cas winked her here, all of a sudden? But if so, where was he?
She took a moment to look around the room. What had just happened? One minute, they had been making love in Heaven, and then, she had found herself here. She had been holding on to his head, messing up his hair as the good feeling was coming upon her, and -
Gail smiled. Cas had been looking to distract her, and ultimately, she had succeeded in distracting him. She walked out of the bedroom and down the hallway. She and Cas had visited their past together in each other's minds before, but this was a first for her. Now, she was in the house of Cas's mind.
She'd had similar experiences with Metatron, when he had invited her and Cas to search his mind as proof that the Demon era had just been an illusion. Then, she had visited Gabriel's house briefly, by herself. But this was her first time visiting her husband's house, and she was excited, but she was also a little bit scared.
There were many wonderful rooms all the way down the hallway, and she was tempted to linger at many of them. All of the doors were open, so she didn't feel as if she was being nosy. But she didn't know what he could possibly want to hide here, anyway. From everything she was seeing, she was in a house full of love. Everywhere she looked, she and Cas were showing their love for each other in a multitude of different ways. Hugging and kissing, cuddling and watching TV, and making love. She smiled as she went from room to room. This would be a house of horrors for their friends, Gail thought with amusement; Dean and Frank, in particular. They were always complaining about the Angels' tendency to be demonstrative with their affection for each other. But seeing all of this activity featured so predominantly in Cas's mind made her feel warm and happy.
Oh, look. Here was the Las Vegas wing of the house. Here they were, hand in hand on their bench in the Secret Garden, enjoying the early-morning serenity of the place. Walking down the Strip at night, marveling at all the neon lights. Gail, sitting in a booth in a cozy little bar and Cas, bringing her a drink and sliding in beside her, instead of across from her. Another one of Dean's pet peeves. But it made Cas happy to sit that way with his wife. He liked to be in close proximity to Gail. Wasn't that the way that married people were supposed to be with each other? Gail laughed. She could just picture Dean's face right now. But, too bad for him. Gail liked it, too.
In other rooms, she and Cas were hanging out with their family and friends, teasing and bantering back and forth, but always holding hands, or cuddling. They were on the couch at their house or in the bunker, watching movies, cuddled together under a blanket. They were at the ballpark with the baseball caps Frank had bought them on their heads, rooting for the Blue Jays, or the Angels. Cas usually just rooted for a good game. Every time he watched, he saw something he'd never seen before, and that intrigued him. There was so much strategy to the game. It was wonderful.
Further down the hall, Cas was reading to Gail as she lay on the couch with her feet in his lap. Then, after a time, Cas would put the book down and then he would take the socks off of her feet and start to massage them, as she moaned softly.
Even further down the hall was the winter wing, where she saw the one perfect Christmas they'd had with their extended family, right before the year of the death squads. She watched them all making their snowmen, having the snowball fight, and laughing. There was so much laughter. Then, there was another winter scene, with her and Cas laying down in the snow together, making snow angels. She didn't remember - Wait. Wait just a minute. She watched as she and Cas kissed and canoodled in the snow. Then Mind Cas said that they should dry off, and so Gail followed herself and Cas back to their first house and watched as they took off their wet clothes and made love. Then, they drove their car to the diner and got hot turkey sandwiches and pie, and brought the food to the bunker for a small celebration with Sam and Dean. The brothers said that Frank had called, sending his regrets. Monsters didn't know anything about Christmas, and they didn't care. But he would be home soon, and they would have another celebration then.
Gail suddenly realized what she was seeing. This was the way that their Christmas had actually gone the year they thought that Cas had been a Demon who had treated Gail so horribly. She started to cry happy tears. Obviously, Cas had remembered this recently. She wished he would have shared this with her. But, to be fair, there had been an awful lot of stuff going on.
The next, furthest wing of the house seemed to be reserved for the distant past. Cas was sitting under a tree in the meadow, tending to his flock. He was smiling, daydreaming about the day he would meet his beloved. The Father had come to Abel in a vision and told Abel that He was going to bless him with a wife. Of course, God had never mentioned the fact that this wasn't going to happen for thousands of years. Mere details, when you were dealing with the Lord God.
But it had finally happened, although to say that it was a gradual process was a supreme understatement. Gail then peeked into their cottage in New England and saw John down on his knees in front of her by the fireplace, on the last happy night that she and Cas had had there. The next room was Guinevere's bedchamber at the castle, and she and Lance were making love, just before Arthur discovered them. They had loved each other since the dawn of time, but the Father had certainly put them through their paces before He had allowed them to be together, hadn't He?
There were even more rooms further down the hall, but Gail could visit those another time. She was growing extremely curious now. Where was Cas? Why wasn't he here, sharing all this stuff with her?
With a great effort, Gail turned her back on all the love and happiness she was seeing and backtracked down the hall. Eventually, the light in the corridor grew dim. She saw a door up ahead that she took to be the front door of the house, so she opened it and walked outside.
The door slammed shut behind her, and the light was extinguished. It was dark outside, and it took her eyes a moment to adjust. Then, she saw him. He was sitting on a bench up ahead. His head was bowed. As she approached, Cas put his head in his hands.
"What's going on with you?" she asked him, puzzled. "What's wrong? Why are you out here all alone, in the dark?"
"It's where I deserve to be," Cas said, anguished. He looked up at her, and she was astonished to see that his face was wet with tears.
"What aren't you telling me, Cas?" Gail asked him. The dread was building up in her now. This was going to be bad.
"I have to show you something, but I don't want to," Cas said softly. "I live for your good opinion of me." He sighed. "Please come here." He extended his hand to her. She moved forward and took it, and suddenly, they were standing on a battlefield. Angel versus Angel clashing, fighting with their blades held high. Rivers of blood on the ground.
Gail was horrified. "What you are seeing now is the final, all-out skirmish," Cas told her. "After this, I decided that there had been enough of my garrison sacrificed. Even now, Jason and I are strategizing."
She looked at her husband in surprise. Jason? Then, she remembered that he had told her that she and Jason had been compatriots, back in the day. They had become such bitter enemies by the time Gail had come along that it was easy to forget that fact.
Cas winked her into a tent that was set up on the hillside, overlooking the battlefield. He and Jason were there, looking at a map that was spread across a table.
"I think I'm going to use the King's Gambit," Cas was saying to Jason. "Raphael won't be expecting that."
"Is that what I think it is?" Jason asked, smiling slowly. "That's when you offer up some lesser pieces to divert your opponent, right?"
Cas frowned. "Yes. The downside to that is that it weakens our position. But if I sacrifice a couple of units here - " he pointed - "then I think we can use the English Opening, and approach his battalion from the flank side. By the time he figures out what we've done, I think we can achieve full penetration."
Jason's smile widened. "You're a diabolical son of a bitch, Castiel."
"I'm simply trying to shorten the war," Cas said tersely, rolling up the map.
Suddenly, Gail and Cas were standing in an office. Cas and Jason were there together again, standing over a female who was sitting in a chair, crying.
"Your son died an honourable death," Cas was saying stiffly.
"I believe you, Castiel," the woman wailed, "but Finn was the only family I had left."
"We are sorry for your loss," Cas said dispassionately.
Jason escorted the woman out of the office. The instant he had closed the door behind her, he rolled his eyes. "We're sorry your son's death was completely pointless," Jason said sarcastically. "And who names their son 'Finn', anyway? What was he, a fish?"
"He was named after his father, who was called Finnegan," Cas said absently, shuffling some paperwork on his desk. "The father died a number of years ago."
"Well, look at you, caring about your men," Jason said cheerfully. He plunked down into the chair that the unfortunate young Angel's mother had just vacated, putting his feet up on Castiel's desk.
Cas frowned. "I didn't say I cared," he stated in a monotone. "I was merely answering your question. Perhaps if you spent less effort being sarcastic and more time developing strategy, we might actually be getting somewhere."
Jason sat up, taking his blade out of his jacket. "Oh, I have a few ideas on strategy, all right. But so far, you've been resistant."
Cas sighed, frowning again. "It would appear that I need to rethink my position, then. Raphael's forces are pushing back, and we're teetering on the brink. Do what you have to do, and I'll do what I have to do."
"Excellent," Jason said with a tone of savage glee. He bounced up out of his chair and left Castiel's office, twirling his blade in his hand.
Gail looked at her husband for a moment. She didn't understand why he was showing her this now. He had alluded to his acts of cruelty during the Angel Wars, and certain things had been hinted at during the tribunal. But he was a new man now, a better one, and she wasn't really in any position to judge, because she hadn't been part of his life back then. As near as Gail had been given to understand, God had left the Angels to their own devices, and then, the battle lines had been drawn. Castiel had been pitted against Raphael, an Archangel who had wanted to bring about the Apocalypse on Earth. Cas and Bobby and the Winchesters had eventually teamed up to stop the Apocalypse, and Cas had killed Raphael. So, even though she was appalled at the sight of Angel bloodshed, and Jason and Cas colluding, she was prepared to give her husband the benefit of the doubt.
Especially considering what she saw next. After Jason left his office, Castiel sat down heavily at his desk. "You see the kind of monster I am," Cas said miserably, but Gail said, "Look at your face, Cas."
The bloodthirsty General Castiel was looking utterly lost and miserable. "Look at yourself, Cas," Gail repeated. "You're miserable. That's not you. THIS is you." She touched his face, which was wet with tears again.
"Don't be so sure," Cas told her. The office disappeared, and then they were in another room, where Cas was standing, talking to a Demon.
"So, we are understood. No one is to be hurt. Your operative will merely threaten them with the gun. Nothing more," Cas was instructing the Demon.
"That's right, Castiel," Rudy said, nodding. "She will tell them that Crowley is declaring the Holy War, and wave the gun around menacingly. Then, when your wife reports the incident back to you, you will have your excuse. Not that you need one, my Lord," he added quickly.
"I told you not to call me that," Cas said angrily. "Now, get out of my sight. It's hard enough to distinguish you from the other vermin in this building."
Rudy fixed him with a baleful glare, but then he popped out, and Cas stared after him for a moment. "It's the only way," he said aloud. Then he disappeared, too.
Gail looked at Cas, open-mouthed. For a moment, she was literally speechless, rooted to the spot in shock. Cas looked at her, miserable, waiting for her to speak.
"It was YOU?" she said at last. "YOU sent that Demon to shoot us?"
"No," he said weakly. "It was just supposed to be a threat."
"Oh. Well, that makes it all right, then," she said, her voice heavy with sarcasm. Then she lashed out, slapping him across the face as hard as she could. "Rob almost died! What the hell is wrong with you? How dare you! We're not pawns in whatever sick little chess game you think you're playing with Crowley!"
Cas's head had rocked back when she'd hit him, but of course, they were both only in his mind's eye. It wasn't real, she thought. So she took her hands off his head and sat up in bed, swinging her legs over to the side. Cas reached for her, but she scrambled off the bed and over to the dresser. She yanked the top drawer open, so hard that it came off its moorings and fell to the floor. That gave Cas time to cross the room, and he tried to reach for her again, but she put her hand up, and he stopped short.
"Get away from me," she said angrily. She turned back to the bureau, pulling another drawer open. What was she looking for? Clothes of any kind, just enough to cover herself so she could get the hell away from him. She was so angry at the moment she couldn't even see straight. Rob had nearly died. What the hell did Cas think he was trying to pull?
Cas waved his hand, and they were both fully dressed. "Please, I need to talk to you," he said to her. "I need help, Gail. I have a disease."
She laughed scornfully. "Oh. You have a disease. Well, that's OK, then. We'll just tell Frank that his son almost died because you have a disease."
He seized her by the arms, and she looked down at his hands. "Really? What are you going to do, Cas? Keep me here against my will?"
"No," he said. He was desperate now. If he let her leave now, without showing her everything, she might leave for good. He grabbed her hand. "I need to show you, Gail. Please. Please."
He slapped her hand onto his forehead, and they were in his mind again. This time, they were in the corridor of Heaven's jail. She was trying to pull away from him, but he had his hand around her wrist. She was tugging with all her might, but somehow he was holding her there, even though she couldn't feel his hand restraining her.
"I'm sorry, my love," Cas pleaded, "but you need to see the truth. Then, if you want to strike me, or even if you want to leave me, I will not hold you back."
Gail let out a frustrated breath. There was no point in struggling, she supposed. Even in his mind, he apparently had Godly powers. Fine. Whatever. She would watch his little show. Then, when it was over, she would smack him twice, and this time, it would be in the real world, so he would feel it.
A man came down the corridor carrying an empty syringe. Suddenly, Patricia appeared. Cas and Gail followed her to Cas's cell. Patricia waved her hand over the door, and it swung open. They followed her inside.
"How are you, Castiel?" Patricia asked the man who was chained to the wall. He was curled up in a ball on the floor.
Gail was still angry at her husband, but her heart broke too, at the sight of him like this. She looked at the present-day version of him, pursing her lips tightly.
"I didn't bring you here so that you could feel sorry for me," Cas said quietly. "I brought you here so that you could see."
Patricia hadn't received an answer from Castiel, but then again, she hadn't really expected one. She snapped her fingers, and a chair appeared in the middle of the cell. She sat down on it. "Look at me," she said to the man on the floor.
He raised his head, squinting, even though there was very little light. Patricia examined his face closely. She saw no defiance there, so she spoke again. "What is your mission, Castiel?"
"To wage the Holy War," he replied tonelessly.
"When will you abandon that mission?" she asked him.
"Never," he answered firmly. "Not until the last force of Evil is dead. I will start with the Demons, and then, I will kill the King of Hell himself. Then, I will vanquish the heathens and the sinners who roam upon the Earth."
"Even if it turns out that those sinners are from your own Earthly family?" Patricia persisted.
"Sometimes, in wartime, sacrifices have to be made," Castiel said automatically.
"Even if you have to sacrifice your own wife?"
"I will make sure she does not Sin," Castiel said quickly, and now, there was a tone of unease in his voice.
Patricia stood from her chair and strode over to the prisoner. She grabbed his head by the hair. "Your wife is a harlot," she said harshly. "I will ask you again: Will you do your Godly duty, once you are in the Office?"
"Yes," he responded.
Suddenly, present-day Cas and Gail were standing out in the corridor, just outside Castiel's cell door. Patricia was talking to a man who Gail had never seen before.
"He will be consumed by his obsession for the Holy War," the man was saying, "and it will not go away until he can come to terms with his guilt over the first genocide that he was responsible for."
"I would be the last person to want to defend Castiel, but that was an accident," Patricia remarked.
The man shook his head. "That doesn't matter. Deep down, he feels extreme guilt about it. So, until he can expunge that guilt, he will feel a constant craving to atone. If the obsession rages on unchecked, he will not rest until he has stamped out every bit of perceived Evil, no matter where it might be, or in what form."
Patricia smiled, and Gail's slapping hand was itching fiercely again. This was unbelievable. So all this time, it had been Patricia who had been the architect of Cas's desire to wage a Holy War. When he had gone on that desert retreat of his and come back spouting off about love being his mission, he had been lying his Godly face off.
"Take me back," Gail said, tight-lipped, and Cas let go of her wrist immediately. They were back in the bedroom of their suite in Heaven. Gail turned her back on her husband, walking out to the living room. She sank down on the couch.
Cas followed her, moving slowly, tentatively. "I suppose you'll be wanting a divorce now," he said dully.
Gail sighed heavily. "No, Cas. I don't want a divorce," she replied. "You were right; you have a disease. If I didn't try to help cure you, I would be just as responsible for anything bad that happened."
Cas couldn't believe it. She was the sweetest, most supportive...He started to cry, and Gail sighed again. "Please don't do that," she said, pursing her lips. "I'm still really mad at you, you know. I don't care if you ARE God, I wouldn't come within slapping distance of me right now, if I were you."
But he couldn't help himself, of course. He rushed forward, sitting beside her on the couch. "Go ahead and strike me, if you wish," he said to her. "I certainly deserve it."
"You take all the fun out of it when you do that," she grumbled. Then she sighed again. She must be approaching some kind of record for sighing, by now. "I expect you to nominate me for Sainthood after this." Then she looked at him. "But you have to promise me something: no more underhanded schemes. I'm going to stick to you like glue. And if you pull anything else, anything at all, I'll pack my bags, Cas. I'm not joking, and I'm not bluffing. Are we clear on that?"
"Crystal," Cas said tersely, like the soldier he had once been. Then he was the one to sigh. "I've learned my lesson, Gail. Had Rob died, I would have, too. I couldn't stand it if anything happened to any of you. Please, help me."
"All right, Cas. OK," she said softly.
"Do you promise you won't divorce me?" he asked her anxiously.
"No," she said shortly, and his face fell, so she sighed again. "Yes," she amended in a resigned tone. "If Frank isn't going to divorce Jody for having cancer, I guess I can't divorce you for having...whatever it is that Patricia gave you."
"What?!" Cas exclaimed, startled. "Jody has cancer?"
Crap. He hadn't known. It had just slipped out. Oh, well. Maybe if he hadn't been sneaking around behind her back, plotting with skeevy-looking Demons, he wouldn't be so out of the loop. But right now, she'd better check her attitude. It wasn't going to do anyone any good. She would wait until they got Cas cured, and THEN she would kill him.
"One problem at a time," Gail told him, willing herself not to sigh yet again. "One problem at a time."