The cemetery darkened and Dean rose to his feet. His back was killing him from smashing through a gravestone courtesy of that cursed Chuck. Dean nearly tripped over the granite rubble which littered the spongy ground at his feet. Graveyards were normally spongy, like the ground itself was a ghost and hadn't yet settled into a solid form. It always made him feel like he was about to drop through into a ghoul's tunnel or something. It made him feel like the ground itself was shaking right now.
A blast to the left of him, maybe fifty yards away, made him wince. A sizzling path now oozed with some form of lava and burnt grass zinged his nose with its sharp acrid stench. What on earth was going on?
Sam worked his right hand and reached for a handkerchief from his back pocket. His eyes darted around at the grass for the gun. Equalizer, Hammurabi, whatever that backstabbing excuse for a god wanted to call it. It was gone. Sam's left shoulder had a hole pierced through thanks to firing the Equalizer at Chuck, and hitting the same place. Dean could imagine the feel the blood seeping down his back, even when Sam staunched it in the front with his handkerchief. It would not be fun for Sam to pull his coat off after his wound coagulated into something that wasn't dripping like a tipped over beer bottle. Maybe Cass could patch him up.
Cass stood from his hopeless task at trying to bring Jack back. He looked incredibly worn out. Like he wasted his entire angelic mojo on the kid. But that was Cass, not willing that even one of them should die on his watch anymore. Especially the kid.
Something was blasting the ground and Dean really didn't care. Did Chuck just think they were puppets that he could pull some strings and make him do whatever he wanted? Just how far was he going to go with this? And what did he mean 'The End'?
Cass and Sam were backing towards him, watching lines of fire sizzle through the graveyard and blast into headstones.
"What the hell is going on?" Dean demanded.
"Souls." Cass said, "They're souls from Hell."
Sam looked sharply at Cass, but only for an instant. All three had their eyes fixed on the souls soaring out of the mouth of the pit from Hell.
Then Dean noticed the decaying bodies lumbering toward them like the cartilage had deteriorated from their knees, all their limbs really. They hobbled and jerked toward the three men, and Dean had a pretty good idea they weren't about to give them a victory lift on their shoulders.
Dean cursed himself that all he brought was the Equalizer. Not that that would have helped them with the grateful undead. Through silent trees and the hordes creeping closer, he saw the long sleek shape of Baby, his '67 Impala. Her trunk would have everything they needed if they were just over there, and not here.
There was nothing for it but to fight. Cass already had dropped his angel blade into his hand. He had the look of a resolute soldier on his face. Prepared to kill again and again without rest. However, his eyes looked heavy from unshed tears and the injustice he had just witnessed at Chuck's betrayal.
Dean eyed the fence around a tomb. They could climb inside and hope the soul who owned the plot was heaven bound, but they'd be trapped like an angel in a ring of holy fire.
He hurried to the fence anyway and twisted two of the corroded wrought iron rods out. His nerves were strung tight as he hurried back to Sam and Cass near the fountain, and Jack's body.
Sam eyed the piece of iron that he handed him as if to say, "That's it? This is all we've got?" Of course, Sam didn't say anything, he could have at least brought Ruby's knife or a gun with him too, so this was the best they could do.
The undead steadily slunk toward them, and then one screamed and they were surrounded, overwhelmed. Dean's iron struck the first undead in the chest.
"PAUSE!" A firm female voice cut through the air.
The undead froze. Some were still in half-movements, unable to keep the perfect balance they were caught in, yet they all stood still as wax figures.
The air was completely still. Not even breath seemed to stir the dust and dirt particles swept up in the scuffle.
Dean attempted to pull the iron rod from the undead and strike another, but the blonde haired woman carrying a book to her chest and holding a small box on a strap stole his focus. She looked like some kind of librarian. Had he seen her somewhere before? She stood close to the fountain, eyeing Jack's body. Her lips were pursed and frustration was evident in her posture.
"Uh, Thanks. Have we met…?"
"Atropos," Cass pushed past one of the more foul zombies who still hadn't blinked. Some sort of bodily fluid smeared the shoulder of Cass' coat, but the angel was just as transfixed on the woman as Dean.
A flicker of, appreciation, was it? flicked across the Fate's face for an instant before she scowled at her book again and pushed at the edges of her glasses.
"Castiel. I see the Winchesters, again, have disturbed The Order of Things."
Sam pushed two zombies out of the way and stepped forward, "I think you've got that wrong. We did nothing, if you want to blame someone for…" He gestured behind him, "all this. Go rebuke God."
Atropos narrowed her eyes at Sam. "Perhaps if you had not shot him, he wouldn't have skipped to the end and screwed up so many lives."
Dean eyed the standing corpses around him and stepped around to beside Sam, his weapon still gripped tight, in case the Fate decided to press the 'play' button again.
"And how is this still our fault?"
Atropos shook her head and looked at the sky, as if one of her other sisters would take this responsibility from her. "There were people and things who were supposed to die before the end came. If they don't die or meet their appointment, there will be problems. So many more problems."
"Wait, so you're going to just go kill people because of what they might do?" Sam pressed his handkerchief into his shoulder again and winced, "What about their free will?"
Castiel tilted his head to the side, "Atropos, you said free will ruled over destiny now and you didn't ensure fates anymore."
"I don't. It's just, it seems like it happens, even with free will. People usually choose the easiest path, and that tends to be the one we've picked for them. You know, the one in the script." Atropos cleared her throat, but her eyes slid over to Jack's body once again. "Look. I've stopped time here and I can go ahead and fix the problems you, or God, or whoever caused, but if you help me, I will…"
"Kill God," Dean answered.
"What? No. You kill God, it's lights out down here." Atropos ran her finger down the spine of the book she held, "Do you want that?"
"We want Jack back," Cass said.
Dean struggled for a response. Would he really want Jack back? How could he look at him, or even talk to him, knowing what he had done? But Jack was family. He was their son in every sense of the word, if not by blood. And Cass would figure out a way to make it right again. Soul or no soul.
"I am not able to return Jack to you. I don't have that kind of power." Atropos closed her eyes, "But I can remove you from this graveyard, you know, surrounded by undead, about to die after being overrun."
Dean snorted, "I think we'll take our chances."
"Hold on Dean," Sam ran his hand through his hair and kicked one foot against the side of the fountain. "If we can stop. Take a breather. Form a plan. Maybe help some people from, I don't know, resolving their fate and having to die because of it. Wouldn't it be worth it?"
Cass moved toward Atropos. His eyes scanned the edges of the small box at her side which was strapped over her shoulder.
Sam turned back to Dean, "Isn't that what we do? Dude, we're Team Free Will, but that doesn't mean we're the only ones who get choices in life. She's giving us a chance to help them too."
Dean crossed his arms and frowned at the grass, "Doesn't mean a thing if our free will has always been an illusion. Chuck's got this whole world in his sweaty little hands right now."
"I don't believe that." Sam struck the edge of the fountain with the iron rod to make a dull clang, "I can't believe that. Or, you know what, even if it's true, it doesn't change a thing. We are who we are, whether by Chuck's hands or our own. He couldn't make you fire that gun. You did that. That was your choice."
Dean lifted his eyes, "And it wasn't God's choice that you jumped into The Cage with Lucifer and Michael. He would have chosen apocalypse every time."
Sam nodded in firm agreement.
"Wait, why are you wearing Pandora's Box?" Cass raised his angel blade at Atropos.
"Relax," Atropos shifted the strap on her shoulder, "Since Hell is compromised, I thought I'd bring portable storage for any souls on the list, should they meet their fates. I've sealed it with a very old, very strong primordial spell. Nothing can get out, at least not until I unseal them all."
Cass nodded as he tucked his blade away, "You intend to leave it with us to recover the souls of anyone who can't choose a different path."
Atropos opened her book to the second to last page. She gripped the page with her hand and yanked with more effort than one would assume was needed to remove a page from a normal book. A gust of wind swept Sam's hair into his eyes. It ruffled Dean and Castiel's hair and pulled at the lapels of Cass' trenchcoat.
"Here is the list of names. If their fates are sealed or changed most of the timeline should fall in place. Their residence is in the center column. The assumed fateful action is on the far right column." Atropos handed the page to Cass and straightened her hair.
"Assumed?" Sam dropped his iron rod and accepted Pandora's box from her. He held it carefully away from himself like a newborn shifter.
"Fate is a funny thing, sometimes you think you've changed it, but it still comes in a different way." Atropos hardened her expression as she closed her book, "It is important that their fates are changed or sealed. If any are left to continue…." She lifted her chin to the circle of monsters and nodded, "You three will return here, exactly as I found you."
"Okay, so how is this supposed to work?" Sam eyed the mass of undead, only feet away, and massaged his shoulder wound, "I don't know if you remember, but we have thousands of souls from Hell out in the world now, I'm not sure if we can change fates on top of ganking them."
Atropos smiled. She touched a fleck of dirt, still suspended in mid-air. "I can manipulate time. This one moment here is more than enough time to stretch out for you all to get that whole page done. To you, it will seem like time is moving like normal, but it will only be an instant."
Dean wiped his hands on his jeans and looked back up at Baby, who waited patiently on the cemetary road. "Okay, I have no idea what you are talking about, but if we are free to go…?"
"Caden Sorensen," Atropos pushed the edges of her glasses again, "He's first. You change his mind or he dies. You understand?"
Sam and Cass nodded. Dean scowled, but all three of them made their way past Atropos and toward their cars sitting on the asphalt.
The eyes of the undead, or what was left of them, stared through them as they slipped past each gruesome body. The rotten flesh made Dean want to hurl, but he kept it down and staggered past them. Cass and Sam joined him at the side of the Impala.
"Caden lives in Albert Lea, Minnesota." The truck keys jingled as Castiel pulled them from the pocket of his trenchcoat. "It says he's going to kill seven teens and a teacher."
"Great." Dean murmured, "A Columbine wanna-be."
"But we can change that." Sam walked around to the trunk of the Impala still gingerly holding Pandora's Box by the end of the strap, "We can give him choices. We can still save him."
"Or at least give us some time before we get mauled by the walking dead." Dean threw the iron rod to the ground and fished out his keys to open the trunk.
"Sam." Cass stepped forward and touched two fingers to Sam's forehead to heal his wound. Sam glanced behind him, at the grey sedan he had driven to the cemetery. More splats of bird poop now dripped down the side of the passenger window.
"Yeah. Thanks." Sam wiped his handkerchief on his shoulder once more before he handed it and the sedan's keys to Cass and set the box into the corner of Baby's trunk, "Here. Better gas mileage than your truck."
Castiel looked at the handkerchief, shrugged, and stuffed it in another pocket of his trenchcoat, then got into the grey car. He surveyed the frozen undead once more, as if counting their numbers, or looking for a weakness they could exploit to survive if they were brought right back to the fight. Atropos still stood beside the body of Jack. Her white blouse, and grey pantsuit blending in with all the other creatures in the dark of the cemetery. She met Castiel's eyes and she tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear again.
Sam moved to the passenger side of the Impala as Dean pulled open Baby's driver's side door. She squeaked and Dean remembered for the hundredth time that he meant to oil that hinge. Whenever we get a spare minute, Dean thought.
"I think Atropos has a thing for Cass," said Sam.
Dean tossed a Motorhead tape into the cassette player, then started the engine with a low rumble, "Sam, all the angels have a thing for Cass. Don't you remember Hannah?"
"Yeah, but this is a Fate. She actually could be, you know, maybe useful against God." Sam shrugged and leaned his arm on the side of the window while Dean steered them out of the frozen graveyard.
"What, so you're saying we get them to hook up?" Dean's eyes flicked up to the rearview mirror. Castiel's grey car wound its way on the graveyard road behind his.
"I'm saying, if we're going to take on God, we need as many players as we can behind us." Sam pulled out his Ipad and started researching Caden Sorenson. Soon after they were well on their way up the highway, he had some more facts.
"Caden goes to Fletcher High, he's a junior, and takes a lot of shop classes."
Dean lifted his eyebrows at that, but nodded.
"Oh, his parents are Tracy and Shawn Sorenson. His dad was killed on a tour of duty in Iraq in '09. Tracy is an office manager at a power company. They're barely staying afloat." Sam shook his head and drummed his fingers on the dashboard.
"So the kid's got daddy issues. He can join the crowd." Dean mumbled as they pulled into a Gas n' Sip. Dean stepped out of the Impala and ran a fake credit card through the scanner. Castiel's car moseyed into the slot behind and the angel mirrored his movements with his own card, under Cass' vessel's name, James Novak.
Sam stepped out of his side of the car and leaned his forearms on Baby's roof, "Dean, we can't just let some kid die because he's about to try to shoot his classmates because he can't handle his dad getting killed in action. He needs a safe place and counselling."
Castiel lifted the unleaded nozzle and glanced around. The darkness that pervaded the cemetery earlier seemed to dissipate the further they got from its epicenter. It was just overcast here. The station wasn't that busy, still there were a few cars simply sitting at the pumps while their drivers bought smokes, licorice, beer, or lotto tickets inside. Cass knew the type well from his time as a human.
"I'll tell you what he needs." Dean was already filling Baby with fuel and had leaned one hand against her, his entire hand shook with anger, "He needs a few sessions at the end of a belt and a stint in juvvie."
"Dean." Sam's face softened as he recognized the look in his brother's eyes, "We were played, we played right into Chuck's plan or whatever. We can let that defeat us, or we can press forward like we always do. I'd rather help some people take back their lives than sit around and wait for Chuck toss us into Hell or wherever he's planned for us."
"Yeah, I know. It just feels like more hoops to jump through." Dean slapped his hand on the roof.
"Caden's father was in the military?" Cass asked as he pulled a complimentary paper towel from the trash can/window squeegee unit beside the fuel pump.
"Yeah," Sam said, "Marine corps."
"Probably has a few guns at home." Dean's tank was full and he returned the nozzle to the pump, "We'll be getting in to Albert Lea near evening. If Cass can stall Caden and his mom, we might be able to get in, stage a burglary and take the teeth out of the kid's operation."
Cass wiped the paper towel in futile motions against the bird poop on the passenger side door. It was dried now after hours on the highway. The thin paper towel tore against the dried poop and Cass balled it up. He returned it to the trash can with an exasperated sigh on his lips.
"Do you think we should contact Donna?" Sam asked as he slid back into the car.
"Nah, This isn't her kind of thing, this isn't really our kind of thing either." Dean frowned as he brought Baby back to life. The rearview mirror showed Cass returning the nozzle to his pump, tightening the gas cap and closing the cover in measured movements. He entered his car and they made their way to the road again.