I've heard there was a secret chord
That David played, and it pleased the Lord
Pain. Excruciating pain is all that she could remember. Searing heat swimming through her veins, scorching her skin from the inside out and she was falling. She could see a face, a face she couldn't make out who was smirking down at her, watching her fall and then nothing. Darkness and silence enveloped her world; so silent it was sickening. But then she was moving again, and much slower this time. She could hear snippets of what was happening around her, drifting in and out of consciousness and she could hear voices, voices she didn't recognize, noises she didn't recognize. However jumbled, they sounded worried, rushed and frantic but she couldn't understand them through her haze; she just wished they would be quiet. Her head ached and even the light through her eyelids seemed to make it worse each time she became conscious again until finally, it all stopped. The silence and darkness both returned and she had no idea how long she was out but when she woke all that she felt was fear and confusion; both emotions seemed unfamiliar and out of place, just as she felt out of place. Her eyes fluttered open and she flinched away from the bright florescent lights that shone directly above her. She raised her aching arm to shield her eyes as she sat up, groaning in pain in the realization that every muscle in her body ached with an unfamiliar soreness. She squeezed her eyes shut in a feeble attempt to rid herself of her headache and focus her eyes. A faint beeping noise attracted her attention and she finally had a look at her surroundings. White walls, white sheets, and one large window letting light flood into the room, much to her dismay. She was surrounded by strange machines, machines that she seemed to be connected to by several wires. She felt confused, and strangely empty as she threw the blue covers away from her body, revealing a blue gown that someone had dressed her in, and she gently pulled the wires from her arm and chest, examining them for only a moment before moving her legs so that they hung over the side of the bed. The movement was strange and her body still ached but she stood regardless, ignoring the fading pain to explore her new surroundings. She squinted out the window to find buildings and like structures as far as she could see with people hustling and bustling about in all directions in the streets below. Where was she? What happened to her? She wracked her brain for the answers to her questions but she had no memory of anything at all and the frustration was irritating. She cocked her head to the side in a curious fashion, making a face before stepping back to have a look at the rest of the almost solid white room, hoping something there would give her some sort of answers. There was a clipboard full of papers at the end of her bed and she picked it up, skimming over the first page that looked like her basic personal information: name, age, gender, etc. She skimmed over it and felt her overworked brain growing more and more confused at the information she was reading, rereading over again just to make sure she was reading it correctly. She knew she couldn't remember anything but this information just didn't seem right to her, seeing as most of it was listed as "unknown" except for her name, which was put in as "Doe, Jane" and a few other technical terms she didn't understand. She shook her head, throwing the board away, onto the mattress and turning away. Something wasn't right here, and that was about the extent of her knowledge. Something tickled down in her inner ear and she flinched away from it, growing more and more nervous just as the sound of soft voices grew louder and louder, speaking in a language that, at first, she didn't think she understood but as the voices continued she began to understand every word. She craned her head, trying to get a better listen, but there were so many of them, all jumbled together and sounding just as panicked as the voices from earlier, but these were different. These voices were inside her head and they were getting louder and louder until she finally couldn't stand it. Her hands flew up to cover her ears and she called out in agony, falling to her knees as several people came running into her room, surrounding her and trying to lift her back onto her bed while she thrashed and flailed mercilessly, a few of them attempting holding her down. She begged them to make it stop, to make the voices stop; they were so panicked, so violent, and she was so helpless. One of the men holding her down shouted something to the rest of them and she vaguely remembered feeling a slight pinch in her arm and within minutes she faded into a deep sleep.
"Listen, with this war going on, that girl is probably the best thing that could've ever happened to us!"
"Yes, but without her grace she's as useful as a weed in a sidewalk crack!"
"Didn't you hear her? She's tuning into angel radio. She can still hear them!"
Jane woke to the hushed whispers right outside the door to her room and her eyes fluttered open as she groaned, pushing herself up to lean on her elbow and rub her eyes. She listened to the conversation that seemed as if she wasn't meant to hear it but her curiosity got the better of her and she sat up, pulling the wire out once again and walked over to the door to have a better listen. They weren't making a lot of sense and it got her mind reeling with questions: Were they talking about her? What were they talking about "her grace"? And what was angel radio? She held her ear to the door and took very shallow breaths, careful not to make any noise and attract attention to herself. She wanted to hear what they had to say in the hope that maybe they would tell her exactly what was going on.
"Tori, angel radio is useless at this point. It's utter chaos up there. It's probably a jumbled mess and probably the reason our graceless angel had her little episode." A man said.
"Did you hear her mumble in her sleep? That rambling has to mean something!" the girl, Tori, urged. Whatever it was, she was adamant about it, even if it didn't make any sense.
"It's not worth it, Tori! Every demon, angel, and hunter are gonna be looking for her and right now, we can't take that chance that they will find her. We have to kill her. Now."
Jane squeaked and sucked in a breath, immediately covering her mouth. The hall grew quiet and she shut her eyes tight, knowing her very small mistake might very well have been her last. After a moment she took a deep breath and peeked out the small window of her door. At first she didn't see anyone and she thought that maybe she'd actually scared them off instead, but just as she began to relax and step away from the door, she bumped into something, or someone, sturdy and she froze, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath before turning around to face her the stranger in her room. When she finally did she covered her mouth to stifle a scream, eyes wide in fear and panic as she backed straight into the small side table near her bed. This man's face, black as night and scorched beyond belief with cracks in the skin allowing blood to seep through, was absolutely terrifying. His eyes were a deep black that were watching every move she made as she backed away from him in horror. How could she not have seen his face before? Not noticed how deformed and disturbing his features were? This man was not human, and some part of her knew it though she couldn't pinpoint how or why she knew it. A few more steps back and she stepped on the toes of another, turning quick to face the woman the man had been arguing with, her face just as terrifying as his; deformed, with her skin blackened and suctioned to her facial bones. Her nose was missing, leaving only a dark, gaping hole where it should've been, but her eyes were just as black as his, watching her just the same. She was trapped with no way out, her fear rising in her throat but she was unable to scream. Something told her that the people that would come to her rescue if she did call out for help wouldn't see what she was seeing, and they definitely wouldn't believe her. She searched frantically for something to defend herself with, spotting a syringe sitting on the table next to her bed that she all but leapt for and turned it towards her attackers with shaky hands. Her face portrayed a sense of bravery and determination but she knew they could see right through it. The two of them laughed at her measly little weapon but she stood strong, fighting the tears that threatened to escape.
"You really think that will work on us?" the woman said. Jane moved her weapon between the two of them, unsure which of them would strike first but ready for either scenario.
"You should know better than that. Or did your fall really knock all your smarts out of your head?" the man smiled, showing perfectly white teeth, a sickening sight paired with his burnt skin and black eyes. Jane swallowed, hoping her voice wouldn't crack when she tried to speak.
"Wh-what're you talking about? What fall?"
"So she doesn't remember!"
"Remember what? What are you talking about?" She was starting to panic, but she needed answers, and she wouldn't get them by running away.
"She probably doesn't even know what she is." The man took a step towards her and she took one back, ramming her hip into one of the machines behind her; her breathing picked up as they closed in on her, continuing their banter of playing on her memory loss that only confused her more. They spoke of broken wings and lost grace and Jane was wracking her brain to try and piece together this impossible puzzle, and in doing so she subconsciously lowered her weapon, giving the two of them the chance to attack. Jane screamed, raising her arms to shield her face, but nothing happened. She was still, thinking maybe they'd gotten her, that they'd killed her and she was in Heaven, but she lowered her arms when her ears started ringing and she found the hospital bed leaning up against the far side of the room, cracks in the wall all around it where it had hit with so much force, and two pairs of legs dressed in doctors' scrubs sticking out from under it. She sucked in a breath, looking around for the person who'd saved her life but there was no one there. Her breathing was heavy and she felt weak, but she knew she had to get out of there, and fast, before the two of them came to or someone else came in and starting asking questions she couldn't answer. She made quickly for the exit, slipping out into the hall, not even bothering to close the door back behind her. To her left was the front desk where several doctors and nurses were standing around, glancing over files, answering the never ending ring of the office phone, and discussing patients over coffee – she immediately decided on the other direction. After her encounter with the other two "doctors" there was no telling how many of those things were wandering around this place. She kept her head down and started for her right, down a long hallway until she could find a way out, and much to her luck, she didn't have to go very far, finding a stairway at the end of the hall. She ducked into the stairwell and all but ran down the stairs until she came to the very bottom and peeked out the door where it led to a small lobby, a huge open space with several different kinds of plants and a huge window that made up the front wall. There were only a few people wandering about so she carefully slipped out the door and into the streets without being noticed, but when she did get outside and took in her surroundings she was only sure of two things: she had no idea where she was, and she knew she was a long way from home.
ONE MONTH LATER
"Glad we hashed that out. Call me when you roll into town."
Dean made a face when his brother hung up on him, pulling his phone away from his ear and glancing down at it, "Who died and made you boss?" he muttered, grabbing his bag of fast food and opening the door to the Impala. He was on his way to the bunker where Sam had been holding up for the past year when he'd called him and received different instructions to meet him in Easter, Pennsylvania. He threw his food into the passenger seat and was about to step into the car but when he reached into his pocket to pull out his keys, he sighed in frustration, realizing he'd accidently left them in the restaurant. He closed the door to the car and headed back inside to retrieve his keys, finding them next to the soda machines, right where he'd left them. He snatched them up and turned to leave, once again, but something on the television caught his eye and he stopped; there was a photo of a young woman, long, brown hair and bright blue eyes, dressed in a hospital gown plastered on the screen. Dean furrowed his eyebrows and took a few steps forward to have a closer look. It seemed that the woman had escaped a hospital in a nearby town a few weeks before with two doctors found dead in her room, and she was still missing. But the girl, she looked so familiar to him, but he just couldn't place it. He stood staring at the photo even after they'd moved on to another story, wracking his brain for any reason to having known this girl. The news had said she was a Jane Doe and they knew no other information on her so he had close to nothing to go on, but he knew her from somewhere. He shook his head, shaking the eerie feeling of something big approaching and ran back out to his car, wanting to cover some distance before nightfall. But somehow he knew that girl would show up in his life again, even if he couldn't remember why he felt she'd already been in it once before.
"This just screams Egyptian plague." Sam bounded down the stairs from the police officer's home with the jar of locusts in hand, his face contorting in slight disgust at the rather large insects that had crawled out of the head of the police officer they'd been questioning. Dean jogged beside him, his car keys jingling in between his fingers and his brain running rampant. Sam was right, the only thing that made any solid sense was some sort of plague; and if he was honest, if anyone had even suggested something like that to him a few years ago he would have written them off as a nut-job but now it just seemed to be another possible case that needed to be solved. For now, they had both decided to head back to their hotel to discuss what facts they'd found and figure out their next move.
They reached their separate vehicles and Sam climbed into his car without a second thought, but as Dean sat behind the wheel of the Impala his mind wandered back to the girl from the news. Sam took off in front of him and he was quick to catch up, chewing on his thumbnail and mindlessly following after his brother once they were on the road. He was usually good at names and faces but something was different about this one; something about this one seemed important, like she should have made some sort of impact on him in some way, but he just couldn't remember how or why and it was driving him crazy. He was about to push it to the back of his mind for a later time when something on the side of the road caught his attention. If he didn't know any better, he could've sworn he saw a woman stumbling along the shoulder, and when he reached over to adjust the side mirror and peered into its reflection he saw the girl hit the pavement and he hit the brakes. He clambered out of the car just as Sam's reverse lights came on and the car started backwards towards him. Dean took off running the few yards back to the girl and kneeled down next to her, scanning her hospital gown clad body with frantic eyes. He checked her pulse just as Sam joined him and was relieved to actually find one, however it was faint and irregular; she was still alive, just unconscious. They checked her for injuries and found only minor scrapes and bruises that most likely came from her time in the woods; she was probably passed out from exhaustion and dehydration. Sam stood tall, looking at their surroundings, searching for the girl's car or for any sign that someone was with her, but found none. They were in the middle of nowhere, with no buildings or any sign of civilization save for the small two lane they'd found her on. He glanced down at his brother as he carefully rolled the girl over so that she was lying on her back. Dean furrowed his eyebrows when he realized it was the girl from the news, the girl he couldn't place her familiarity, and somehow he wasn't all that shocked.
"We need to get her to a hospital." Sam said. Dean was about to agree but the image of the girl's photo on the television screen flashed in his mind and he shook his head. He disagreed with his brother and got to his feet, staring down at the brunette lying on the ground with Sam watching and waiting for some sort of explanation as to why they shouldn't take the mysteriously banged up, unconscious female to a hospital.
"No, we can't take her there." Dean said again. Sam stared at him suspiciously and Dean rolled his eyes, turning to face his brother dramatically, "I saw this girl on the news when I called to tell you where I was. She escaped from hospital a few towns over."
Sam looked at him with furrowed eyebrows and a confused smirk, shifting his weight as he spoke, "Then shouldn't we take her back?"
"No, I mean I think she escaped for a reason. Like, our kind of reason. Her bed was up against the wall with two doctors under it and the wall was cracked around it because it was thrown so hard." He looked down at her and shook his head, "Something just doesn't seem right."
Sam leaned down to look at Dean's features, "Dude, you okay?"
Dean looked up at him, clearing his throat and trying to brush it off, "Me? Yeah, why?"
"I dunno, something's just off about you, ever since we started this case. And now we're not gonna take this girl that we just found unconscious on the side of the road to the hospital?"
"I'm fine. And if I remember correctly, she was fully conscious when we passed her. Let's just get the girl and get out of here." He squatted down and slid his arms under the girl's back and knees, lifting her with ease and starting back for the Impala. Sam watched him for a second with the strange feeling that Dean was keeping something from him. He was tempted to go and beat it out of him but he refrained, ready to get back to the motel and crack down on the case at hand, and once Dean had the girl secured in the front seat and was walking around to take his position behind the wheel, Sam jogged back to his own car and they were back on the road again in no time
"Sweet. Blood, boils, locusts." Dean shuffled through a pile of the large paper photos they'd gathered on their case, depicting ancient stories of the wonders that plagued Egypt. They'd managed to get the girl past the small amount of people in the lobby of the motel and into their room without anyone noticing and Dean laid her on his bed once they made it inside. Not once had she moved since they'd found her, but there wasn't much else they could do for her at this point except wait for her to wake up. Sam took a deep breath, scratching the back of his head and skimming over something on his laptop.
"Three of your more popular Egyptian plagues." He said.
"Yeah, but these guys ate their way out of a cop's melon." Dean picked up the jar of locusts from the cop's house and turned it over in his hands, "I don't quite remember that in the King James."
"Meanwhile, a kid named Christopher Birch was shot in the head last month after a vehicle pursuit. Hatch, Gray, and Colfax were the three officers involved, and they all filed the exact same police report."
"'Suspect exited vehicle brandishing a firearm. We were forced to fire.'" Dean read aloud from the police report in his hands before setting the paper down with a heavy sigh, "'Just a kid with no face and a planted gun.' Bunch of dicks. So they pop the kid, plant the piece."
"Maybe Colfax is right." Sam sighed, "You know, maybe Heaven has a hate-on for bad cops."
"So we're listening to the guy with the bug in his custard? That's the theory you wanna go with?" Dean stood and grabbed a beer from the fridge behind him, popping the top and taking a long swig. He strode over to where the girl lie unconscious on his motel bed, breathing even, almost like a peaceful sleep, but Dean just couldn't shake that he knew her from somewhere and it was driving him crazy. He took another swig of his drink as his brother spoke, but he didn't look at him.
"Dean, angels got to have something to do, right? Now that we're post-apocalypse?"
"Yeah, maybe." He paused, watching the girl sleep for a few more seconds and contemplating his words before sucking in a breath and turning to Sam, "We should call Cas."
Same scoffed, "You're kidding, right? Dean, I tried. It was the first and second and third thing I did, soon as I got topside. Son of a bitch won't answer the phone."
"Well, let's give it a shot." Dean gave his winning smile and took a seat at the end of his bed, head bowed and eyes closed. Sam rolled his eyes as his brother began one of his more smart-ass-type prayers, "Now I lay me down to sleep. I pray to Castiel to get his feathery ass down here."
"You're an idiot." Sam said.
"Stay positive."
"Oh, I am positive."
Dean closed his eyes again, ignoring his brother's griping, "Come on, Cas! Don't be a dick. We got ourselves a…plague-like situation down here. Do you...copy?"
The room was quiet and he peeked one eye open, hoping with all his might that Cas would be standing there next to him with the answers they needed, but when he opened his eyes the only ones there with him were Sam and the girl. He shook his head in defeat and Sam took in a deep, victorious breath and cleared his throat, leaning forward in his chair, "Like I said, the son of a bitch doesn't answer–"
He stopped when he saw Dean's eyes go wide, staring right past him in a slight state of shock. Sam's face fell into a disbelieving expression and his lips thinned, speaking through gritted teeth, "He's right behind me, isn't he?"
Dean said nothing, simply staring at whatever was behind him and Sam whipped around in his chair, greeted by none other than Castiel, dressed in his usual suit and trench coat, with his blue tie backwards and black hair messy. The angel greeted him with a simple 'hello' and Sam just about came undone, shooting a deathly glare at Dean, who simply shrugged his shoulders innocently, and Sam turned back to Cas, "'Hello'?"
The angel hesitated, "Yes."
Sam glanced back at Dean and scoffed, imitating Cas' deep, grungy voice, "'Hello.'"
"Uh, that is still the term?" He glanced out of the corner of his eyes with furrowed eyebrows, double-checking what he'd learned about human customs in his time on Earth.
"I spent all that time trying to get through to you. Dean calls once, and now it's 'hello'?!"
"Yes." Cas sounded exasperated and Sam threw his hands in the air in defeat, bringing them back down to rub his face in frustration.
"So, what, you like him better or something?"
Cas looked up as if he was asking himself why he even showed up before he turned back to Sam, "Dean and I do share a more profound bond." He looked back at Dean's unsure expression and he held his arms out with a shrug, I wasn't gonna mention it."
"Cas, I think what he's trying to say is that, he went to Hell for us. I mean, he really took one for the team. You remember that? And then he comes back without a clue, and you can't take five friggin' minutes to give him some answers?"
"If I had any answers, I might have responded. But I don't know, Sam. We have no idea who brought you back from the cage…or why."
"So, it wasn't God?" Sam stood from his chair to look Castiel in the eyes.
"No one's even seen God. The whole thing remains mysterious."
"What the hell does that mean?"
"What part of 'I don't know' escapes your understanding?"
"Cas, look," Dean spoke, getting to his feet in order to try and break up what could've been a stressful argument between the two, "If Sam calls, you answer. Okay? You wing your ass down here, and you tell him, 'I don't know.' Just because we have some sort of a…bond, or whatever."
Cas took a calming breath and glanced back at Dean, prepared to put him in his place and he immediately took a double take when something else caught his attention just behind the hunter, something that should have caught his attention a long time ago. Dean followed his gaze back to the girl and glanced back at Cas, gesturing towards the unconscious brunette.
"Do you know her?" he asked. Cas glanced at him and returned his attention to the girl, stepping around Dean to stand by the bed next to her.
"No," he finally said, wary of something near his feet he was trying his best to not step on, something neither of the brothers could see but they wrote it off, listening to him speak words that they never expected to hear, "I do not know who she is, but I do know that she is an angel."
Dean and Sam exchanged looks and Sam shook his head, "Are you serious?"
Cas examined the girl with his head cocked to the side in his usual fashion. He knew it was an angel's vessel from the wings that only he could see, lifeless and sprawled out awkwardly to one side, hanging over the bed to drag on the floor; probably from the way Dean had carried her in and laid her down. Their ruffled feathers gave off a dull-gray hue that told Castiel that whoever this was that lie before him had fallen from Heaven, making him all the more curious to her identity.
"She's a fallen angel," he explained, moving closer to the girl, careful of her wings and trying not to step on them, even if she was numb to them, "With so much chaos up there I'm not surprised. There's no way to keep up with everyone. Not anymore."
He reached out and placed two fingers on the girl's forehead, forcing her out of her comatose state. Just as their skin met her eyes flew open and the minor injuries that covered her body were healed in seconds. She saw Cas and immediately sat up, backing away from him and the brothers, almost falling off the bed in the process. Her wings were drug next to her, seeing as she had no idea that they were even there and Cas furrowed his eyebrows while Dean tried to calm her down, holding his hands up and speaking in a soft tone, but she ignored him.
"Who are you?" she pleaded. She looked scared and confused and Dean took a few steps closer to her. Something about her eyes was starting to clear up the fog in his memory and he wanted to get a closer look, but she simply leaned back away from him.
"We're not going to hurt you." He reassured. He was trying to be patient and gentle, even when every ounce of patience he had had been dropped on the side of the road where they found her. There was no telling what the girl, this fallen angel had been through, but Cas had other plans.
"Who are you?" he took a step toward her and Dean put a hand on his chest to force him back. He merely glanced at Dean, barely taking his eyes off of the girl, just as impatient for answers as he was though clearly not hiding it nearly as well.
"Who are you?" she replied, "And where am I?"
"We asked you first." Sam said. Dean gave him a look but he ignored him, "What's your name?"
"I don't know my name." she said, "I woke up in a hospital about a month ago with no idea who I was or how I got there."
Dean narrowed his eyes in the way he usually did when he was testing the waters, "So you have no idea who, or what, you are?"
"Um, no. The paper on my bed said "Doe, Jane". Everything else was listed as unknown."
Dean rubbed his face with his hands and turned to Castiel, "She has no idea."
"No idea about what?"
They were suddenly quiet, staring at the girl as she moved her eyes between the three of them. When none of them answered, she eyed them suspiciously, "Do you guys know something I don't? About me? Do you know who I am and where I came from?"
The questions began to fall off of her tongue like water out of a broken levy and Dean took a cautious step towards her, on the verge of doing his best to comfort her, but Cas clearly didn't have a filter for his mouth and Dean had the urge to slap him when he spoke.
"You're an angel of the Lord."
The room was silent once again and the girl stared unblinking at him. For a moment, none of them were really sure what she was going to say and Dean looked around, shifting his weight rather awkwardly with raised eyebrows while Sam and Cas seemed to simply be watching her. Dean looked at them with a creased brow before turning back to the girl just as she shook her head and crawled out of the bed, her angel wings hitting the ground with a soft thumb behind her, dragging in a limp heap behind her as she walked away from the three boys, but she didn't walk out the door like Dean expected her to. In fact she stopped, just short of the door, facing away from them. They waited for her response and after a beat she turned around slowly, the boys were keeping a close eye on her, all of them holding very serious looks and she eyed each one of them separately, ending with Castiel. They locked eyes, his so blank, ready to get back to the point of his visit, and hers so confused and scared and vulnerable, but so curious and so wanting to believe these strangers. She blinked and looked away.
"You're serious, aren't you?" she finally said.
"Yes." Cas replied. He wasn't cold, but very straight forward. She looked as if she was waiting for him to explain further and when he didn't she turned to Dean, hoping for more answers.
"Do you know who I am? My name isn't Doe, Jane is it?"
"No, just," he sighed and she waited, eyes blinking and waiting patiently for him to continue. He could see the innocence pouring out of her eyes and he had to take a double take. A picture flashed in his mind, of a time so different from this one. One that was dark and without hope and he looked back at Cas, who was rummaging through his bag as if it belonged to him. Dean glanced back at his brother, who simply shrugged and Dean approached the angel, "Cas, what're you doing? Aren't you going to help her? Look at her, confused and just wants to know who she is."
Cas stood up straight and looked at Dean with piercing eyes, "As I told you before, if I had any answers I would give them, but I don't. All I know is that she's missing her grace, and until it is found there is nothing I or anyone else can do for her."
He returned to Dean's bag and Dean scoffed, unbelieving of what he was hearing, "So you're just gonna let her sit here like this? Lost and fallen?"
"My grace is missing?" Jane spoke up. She was growing more and more confused and curious by the second and Cas sighed again, turning back to Dean once more and this time, his features seemed to soften, just slightly, as he turned to address the girl, "Look, I want to help you, I do, but without your grace, I have no idea who you are. It could've landed anywhere. Besides, I came here on an extremely important matter that needs my immediate attention."
"I know, took you long enough." Dean bantered and Cas peered at him with raised eyebrows.
"You think I came because you called?"
Dean's expression told him that that's exactly what he thought and Cas rolled his eyes, "I came because of this."
He gestured towards the stack of files that Dean and Sam had gathered on their case and strode over to join Sam next to the table. Dean made a face as he spoke, "Oh, well, it's nice to know what matters."
"It does help one to focus."
Dean creased his forehead but Cas was completely ignoring him. He was about to join the group at the table, but the girl's movements drew his attention. He looked back at her as she took a seat on the edge of Sam's bed, holding her stomach and staring at the carpet in front of her. She looked so overwhelmed and he watched her a moment, debating in his mind before taking the last swig of his beer and taking the few steps across the room to join her. She didn't acknowledge when the bed dipped beside her, signaling that he'd sat next to her and he bit his lip before speaking, "I know…I know this is a lot to take in,"
"No, no, that's the problem." She interrupted him, "It's not. It feels…right. I don't know. It's like I can remember these bits and pieces of things, but I can't make them out. But what you, and what Cas have said, it just feels…right." She looked up to meet his eyes, "Am I crazy?"
He chuckled, "No, trust me on this one, you are probably the sanest one here."
For the first time since they'd met, she gave him a small smile. He returned the favor and stood to grab a pair of sweats and a tee-shirt from his bag to give to her. She thanked him and stepped into the bathroom to change and he joined Sam and Cas at the table with the case files.
"So, you and the Halo Patrol, you guys aren't the cause of these killings?" Sam was saying.
"No." Cas replied, "But they were committed with one of our weapons. There's only one thing that could have brought this into existence. You call it the Staff of Moses."
The boys were quiet a second, looking at each other to make sure they both heard right before Sam spoke, "The staff?"
"It was used in a dominance display against the Egyptians, as I recall."
"Yeah. That one made the papers." Dean scoffed.
"Does that mean you or I were there for that?"
All three boys looked up at Jane's voice when she came out of the bathroom, dressed in Dean's clothes and the raggedy hospital gown in hand, unsure what to do with it. The clothes were a few sized too big for her but they were better than that gown for sure. They looked at her a little confused and she shrugged, "Well, I figured if you knew that I'm an angel, then that means you are, too."
Cas thinned his lips and looked down at the papers in front of him, "No. I was stationed elsewhere at the time. And, uh,"
"And we have no idea who I am. Right." She made the same face with an understanding nod, wringing the gown in her hands. Dean felt sorry for her, but it was interesting to see an angel show this much emotion, even if they'd never seen her at her full potential and he was reminded of Anna when they first found her: deemed mentally insane and forced into a psychiatric hospital. He hoped they could help Jane before something like that happened to her.
"But I thought the staff turned, like, a river into blood not one dude." Sam said, pulling Dean from his thoughts.
"The weapon isn't being used at full capacity." Cas explained, "I think we can rule Moses out as a suspect."
The boys gave him a look and Dean shook his head, ignoring Cas' comment, "Okay, but, what is Chuck Hesston's disco stick doing down here, anyway? I mean, don't you guys put away your toys?"
"Before the apocalypse, Heaven may have been corrupt, but it was stable. The Staff was safely contained." Cas turned the jar of locusts in his hands, "It's been chaos up there since the war ended. In that confusion, a number of powerful weapons were stolen."
Jane was hanging on to every word that Cas was saying. She took a seat, listening to his voice and absorbing everything he said, wishing she could remember these things, even as horrible as they sounded. She could remember bits and pieces, but it was mostly just porcelain white rooms and a man with more than one face, then immense heat and loud wailing noises. She vaguely wondered if the heat had anything to do with her so-called "fall" that Castiel kept describing, but she shook the thoughts from her head at Dean's voice.
"Wait, you're saying that your nukes are loose?" he said.
"Yeah, I'm afraid so. But you've stumbled onto one of them. We must find the weapon that did this." He paused, and he seemed to be searching for the right words before just putting it plainly, "I need your help."
Jane felt the thrill in the pit of her stomach, the thrill of finding new knowledge, to find out more about who and what she was, however one look at the brothers and she knew that they weren't nearly as excited as she was to help this angel and she furrowed her eyebrows. Why on earth weren't they willing to help him?
"That's rich. Really." Sam said, sarcasm rolling off his tongue. Jane looked between the two of then back to Castiel. He, for one, did not seem to appreciate the dirty looks he was receiving from the brothers, and he chucked the jar of locusts at Sam, who caught them with a rough grunt as Castiel spoke.
"Sam, Dean, my 'people skills' are 'rusty.'" He said, using his fingers as air quotes in places that just didn't seem right to Jane, but she remained silent, letting him continue his spill, "Pardon me, but I have spent the last 'year' as a multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent. But believe me, you do not want that weapon down here. Help me find it. Or more people will die."
Jane turned her attention to the boys, obviously taking only a moment or two to think it over, Dean being quick to speak for all of them, "Alright, okay, well, if the angels didn't pull the trigger, then that brings us back to motive."
Castiel nodded his understanding and just as soon as he agreed his eyebrows furrowed and he looked confused, "What?"
"Back to the case." Sam said, "Right now, we got three dead cops. Only thing linking them is this." He took the reports from Dean and read aloud from them, "'Father of slain suspect calls for investigation.'"
He held up the newspaper clipping to show Cas and he nodded his head. They began to postulate theories but no sooner did Dean start to speak did all of them suddenly find themselves in what appeared to be someone else's home. Jane jumped, startled at the sudden change of scenery and she looked around frantically. Sam was by her and he placed a steady hand on her shoulder as she looked around. It was dark, musty, with the only source of light being what little sunshine came through the windows and most of it was blocked by the trees surrounding the house. An older black man was sat on the couch in front of them, reading over a stack of newspapers with a pair of scissors in his hand. He looked exhausted, as if he hadn't slept in weeks, and there was a very angry look in his eyes. He jumped out of his seat when the four of them appeared, scissors at the ready, prepared to defend himself and his home.
"Cas, a little warning next time." Dean complained.
"How'd you get in here?!" the homeowner looked between the group, his voice urgent.
"Mr. Birch, settle down." Sam pulled something out of his coat pocket, a flipbook and ID, and held it up for the man to see, looking and sounding very serious, "Federal agents."
"But you can't just walk in here!"
"Quite a collection you've got there, huh?" he ignored him, putting his badge away. Mr. Birch glanced down at the papers on his coffee table, eyeing his new visitors with cautious eyes. Sam sighed, "Look, we know the truth, all right? Chris didn't have a gun on him when those cops shot him. They set him up."
"Yeah." Mr. Birch was quick to agree, "They're all getting theirs."
"And who's giving it to them, Darryl?"
When Mr. Birch looked away, almost shamefully, Jane furrowed her eyebrows, looking up to Sam who was watching the man like a hawk. She peered down the line and Dean glanced at her for a quick second, fidgeting on his feet, "Darryl? Did you kill Toby Gray and the others?"
"Me? I didn't kill anyone! Look at how they died!"
"You smote them with the staff of Moses." Cas interrupted him and Mr. Birch gave him the strangest of looks.
"The hell kind of fed are you?"
Cas glanced at his companions on either side of him, expecting some sort of backup but when neither responded he rolled his eyes and approached Mr. Birch, "We don't have time for this. Where is it?"
"Leave my dad alone!"
A new voice behind them attracted their attention and they were met with a young boy holding a foot long stick, oddly shaped like a pistol, right at them. They stood there a little shocked and Jane was unsure what to do. She stood completely still and as close to Sam as possible, ready to run if the situation called for it, and she suddenly wondered if her old self, her angel self knew how to fight.
"Is that…?" Dean said.
"Yes." Was Castiel's reply. Jane looked back at him and he was staring at the boy in wonder, and a little bit of confusion. He seemed just as shocked as the rest of them and Jane was a little surprised, she'd only known him a few hours but she was sure he didn't have any emotions at all.
"Shouldn't it be bigger?" Sam questioned.
"Yes, it's been sawed off."
"Leave him alone! It wasn't him!" the boy pleaded again.
"Aaron, get out of here!" Mr. Birch ordered, but with one touch of Castiel's fingers to his forehead and he was passed out on the couch behind him. Jane's gave a small gasp and the boy lowered his weapon, but only slightly.
"What did you do to him?" he said.
"It's all right. He's just sleeping." Dean assured and just before Jane's eyes Castiel appeared next to the boy and took the stick right out of his hands. Dean scolded him, telling him to knock it down a notch and Aaron looked up at the angel; Jane could see how intimidated he was but he was without fear, an emotion she was familiar with and one that she was sure the boy would have but he did not. She cocked her head to the side as Dean approached the boy with very little caution. It was like he was scolding his own son and Jane got the feeling that there were several sides of Dean that she was only just beginning to learn about.
"Listen, we're not here to hurt you, okay? But we need to know, where did you get this thing?"
"Please don't kill my dad." The boy replied, backing away when all three men began closing in on him, "It was me. I did it."
"Okay, nobody's killing anybody." Dean said, "What's your name?"
"Aaron. Aaron Birch."
"Okay, Aaron Birch, where did you get this?"
"You won't believe me."
"Try me." Dean gave him a crooked smile and Aaron eyed Castiel next to him, leaning away from him as if he was standing a little too close for comfort. Jane approached the situation tentatively but none of them gave her really any notice, too wrapped up in the moment, but she stayed close by but out of the way.
"It was an angel." Aaron said. They all seemed to stand up straighter, including Cas as all eyes seemed to fall on him.
"An angel?" Dean questioned.
"Those liars, they killed my brother, and nothing bad even happened to them. It's not fair. So I prayed to God every night he would punish them. God didn't answer. But he did."
"His name – did he give you a name?" Cas said.
Aaron shook his head, "No. He just said I could have justice, but I was gonna have to take it myself. He…he gave me the stick."
It was like alert sirens were wailing in all their heads as soon as those words left the kid's mouth and Dean shook his head, unbelieving, "He just…gave it to you?"
Aaron nodded.
"Ah, come on." Dean took a few steps towards him, his expression changing into a more knowing look, "He didn't just give it to you, did he, Aaron?"
Aaron looked away, having a hard time looking Dean in the eyes and when he finally did, he changed his story, "I bought it."
"You bought it?" Sam laughed and Jane looked up at him as he seemed to step out of the shadows, "With what? What's your allowance?"
Dean ignored his brother and continued to question the boy, "What did the angel want for it? What did you give him for it?"
Aaron took a moment to answer, and when he did finally speak, none of them were really sure they were prepared for what he said, "My soul."
Jane felt her eyes go wide and she looked right to Castiel for answers, and it seemed that Sam and Dean were thinking the same thing. People were selling their souls? Was this a normal occurrence in this life? Jane's heart was racing, growing more and more curious and afraid of the life that she was born into as the brothers voiced the questions that they were all thinking.
"You sold your soul to an angel?" Sam said.
"Can that even happen?" Dean's voice was barely audible and Jane's eyes darted between the two.
"It's never happened before." Cas replied, a little dumbfounded himself as he looked down at the piece of staff in his hands, "An angel's buying souls. That could explain why he cut the staff into pieces."
"Why?" Jane spoke. She had meant to keep her curiosity to herself, keep quiet while the boys were working, but her mind got the better of her and Cas answered without a second thought.
"More pieces, more product."
"More 'product'? Who is this guy?" Dean said.
"We'll find him."
Cas placed two fingers on Aaron's forehead, subduing him and letting his body fall limp in his arms and throwing him over his shoulder. Dean questioned him but as soon as the words left his lips they were back at the motel room where they started and Cas dropped Arron onto Sam's bed.
"Cas, you realize you just kidnapped a kid?" Dean said.
"If the angel we seek truly bought this boy's soul – when a claim is laid on a living soul, it leaves a mark, a brand."
"What, like a shirt tag at camp?" Sam wondered. Jane furrowed her eyebrows and cocked her head to one side, looking up at the brothers for an explanation and Cas seemed to falter with his words.
"I have no idea. But I can read the mark and find the name of the angel that bought the soul."
"How?" Dean asked.
"Well, painfully for him." Cas began to roll up one of his sleeves as he spoke, "The reading will be excruciating."
"Whoa, hold on. He's a kid, Cas." Dean protested, and when Cas didn't seem to budge he turned to his brother but Sam merely stared back at him before turning to Cas.
"Any permanent damage?"
"What?!" Dean couldn't believe what he was hearing.
"Physically, minimal." Cas replied.
"Oh, well, then, by all means! Stick your arm right in there!"
"Dean! If I get the name, I can work a ritual to track the angel down."
"And I'm all for that. But come on, there's got to be another way."
"There is no other way."
"So, you're gonna torture a kid?"
"I can't care about that, Dean! I don't have the luxury."
The room fell silent at Cas's confession and Jane's eyes darted frantically. Everyone had gotten into such a fuss she couldn't get a word in and she had no idea what was going on. She wanted to approach one of them, wanted them to explain but now it seemed she was going to get a visual representation of what was happening. Cas turned to the boy and reached his arm down into his belly. The boy began to call out in agony and Dean started forward but Sam grabbed his arm to stop him, only to have Dean yank it away. Jane sucked in a breath, covering her mouth with her hands. The boy's screams were only getting louder and they were so painful, so excruciating, and Jane wanted nothing more than to make him stop. The screams continued on for what seemed like hours but was probably only a few seconds and when Cas finally pulled his arm out of the boy's soul she let out a breath she didn't even know she was holding. She suddenly felt sick to her stomach and was trying to take deep breaths to make it go away with no luck.
"He'll rest now." Cas said, pulling his sleeves back down to where they were supposed to be.
"Did you get a name? What is it?" Sam said. Dean looked up at his brother with an expression of disgust. Jane took a deep breath behind him and he turned back to her, pulling her into an embrace and letting her bury her face in his chest with one arm around her shoulders.
"I thought he died in the war." Cas explained.
"What, he was a friend or something?" Sam said.
He sighed, "A good friend."
"Yeah, well, your frat buddy is now moonlighting as a crossroads demon." Dean said. He was holding tight to Jane who seemed to take comfort in his embrace but then it started again, the voices she heard the first time she woke up in the hospital. She lifted her head to get a better listen, her mind translating the language she didn't even think she knew and she craned her head to listen better. They weren't as jumbled this time, as if her mind was already getting used to the notion and Dean bent his head down to look at her.
"Balthazar. I wonder…" Castiel muttered under his breath, trailing out into his own thoughts and Dean held Jane at arm's length. Cas and Sam turned their attention to her as Dean grew worried when she began muttering to herself and he was unable to make out the words.
"They're coming." She finally said aloud.
"What?" Dean looked at her but she whipped her head to the side when another presence made itself known in the room.
"Balthazar." The man said, "Thanks, Castiel. We'll make good use of the name."
He started for Castiel, pulling a blade seemingly from nowhere and Dean pulled Jane out of the way as Cas pulled his own blade from his sleeve just in time to block his attacker. Dean, Sam, and Jane stood by watching helplessly as Cas defended himself against this new angel with the sound of metal against metal filling the air around them. Cas held his own, pushing his blocked sword against his enemy's, looking him right in the eye and receiving a victorious smile.
"And by the way," the angel said, "Raphael says hello."
Castiel slung him around, away from him and his friends, but his plan backfired when the henchman appeared with both his and his own angel blade. He smirked and came at Cas with both weapons and was blocked by Castiel's grabbing his wrists and shoving the blades out of his hands. He was jolted back and Jane called out as Cas ran at him and threw both him and himself out the window. Dean had hugged her close to keep her from getting in the line of fire but as soon as they heard the crash of the two angels hitting the ground and the sound of a car alarm she broke free and ran for the window with both brothers in tow. Down in the parking lot below, Castiel pulled himself from the roof of the car where the metal had bent around his impact, pushing himself upright and onto his feet. The other angel had already vanished by the time Sam, Dean, and Jane got to the window and Castiel looked up at them from the blacktop.
"My car." Sam complained, looking down over Jane. She looked up at him then over at Dean who shrugged in response.
"Okay. Silver lining." He said. Sam looked over at him and he simply gave him an innocent look in return while Jane remained out of the loop.
"He's gone." Castiel said behind them and they all looked back at him. He turned on his heel and started for the kitchenette of the motel room. He was frantically looking for something in the cabinets and didn't seem to be having any luck.
"Cas, who was that guy?" Sam stuttered, his adrenaline still pumping from their surprise visitor.
"A soldier of Raphael. He must have followed me when I answered your call."
"Raphael? The archangel?"
Cas didn't answer him, pulling a mixing bowl from the last cabinet he checked and setting it on the table. Sam took a frustrating breath and shook his head, "I'm sorry, but what's going on here?"
"I can explain later. Right now we have to – " he started for the other side of the room but Dean stepped in front of him and put a hand on his chest.
"No, not later. Now. Stop, all right? There's too many angels, Cas! I don't know who's on first what's on second."
"What is 'second'?!"
"Don't start that."
"It is simple – Raphael and his followers, they want him to rule Heaven. I, and many others, the last thing we want is to let him take over. It would be catastrophic."
"You're talking civil war." Sam put in.
"Technically, yes. Which is why we have to find Balthazar and his weapons before Raphael does." Cas strode past Dean and over to Sam's bag, still searching for the ingredients to the ritual he had mentioned before he was attacked, "Whoever has the weapons wins the war."
"Help yourself." The sarcasm was heavy in Sam's voice and Jane was surprised to find that she had the urge to chuckle.
"And what happens of Raphael wins?" Dean said, "What does he want?"
"What he's always wanted – to end the story the way it was written."
"You mean the apocalypse, the one that we derailed?"
"Yes. That one. Raphael wants to put it back on the rails."
Dean seemed a little shell-shocked, "Why?"
"I need myrrh."
"Myrrh?" Sam questioned, but Cas vanished right before their eyes and the brothers sighed in frustration.
"Friggin' angels." Dean muttered. Jane turned to the two of them.
"You stopped the apocalypse?" she said, shocked and dumbfounded.
"Oh, if only you remembered." Came Dean's reply. He was about to move on but then he furrowed his eyebrows and turned to question her, "What was that back there? Were you tapping into angel radio?"
"Was I what?"
"It doesn't surprise me that she can still here us." Cas returned behind them and the three of them circled the table where he was drawing some sort of symbol for the ritual on the wood, "She's still an angel, she's just fallen."
"Okay, but why would I do that? How? Why?"
"There are several reasons. You disobeyed, you were banished, you ripped it out yourself."
"Ripped it out?" Jane's eyes went wide, "That sounds awful."
"It is. The pain is excruciating. Like searing heat eating you from the inside out."
Jane stopped, memory flashes flooded her vision like getting smacked in the face by buckets of cold water. She remembered the heat, the pain, but now that she knew what it was it felt more real. She stumbled back and Dean steadied her.
"You okay?" he said. Cas was watched her for a moment and when she nodded her head he returned to his ritual.
"I'm fine." She told Dean, "Just a little woozy from the teleporting I guess."
He set her down in the chair next to Cas and Sam leaned on the back of the chair across the table, "Why does Raphael want to bring back all this crap?"
"He's a traditionalist." Cas explained.
"Cas, why didn't you tell us this?"
"I was ashamed." He shook his head, breathing heavy through his nose, "I expected more from my brothers." He looked up with the most sincere look that he, being who he was, could give, "I'm sorry."
Dean looked back at Sam, taking in the information that'd been given to him and Cas reached over and grabbed his wrist, "Now I need your blood."
Dean hissed in protest as the knife ran across his palm, "Why don't you use your own?"
"It wouldn't work. I'm not human."
Dean squeezed his hand until the bottom of the bowl was covered in his blood and he pulled away, eyeing Cas and wrapping his hand to stop the bleeding as the angel pulled a flask of holy water from his coat pocket, pouring it into the bowl and chanting in the same language that Jane heard in her head. She watched the ritual in pure fascination and waited patiently when Cas finished. He grew silent and police sirens wailed in the distance, making Sam and Dean nervous. Jane didn't seem to notice, watching the steam come up from the bowl and Castiel's bowed head, waiting for him to speak.
"Uh, Cas, how long does this spell take?" Sam said, but Cas remained silent, tilting his head to one side a moment before releasing a deep breath and opening his eyes.
"Got him. Let's go." He started around the table and Jane stood, ready and alert, as did Sam, however Dean wasn't quite as confident.
"Wait, what about him?" he gestured to Aaron, still unconscious on the bed but Cas seemed unfazed by Dean's worries.
"Don't you think the police will take him home?" Cas suggested. Dean took a deep breath, reluctantly agreeing and once they gathered their things and covered their tracks, they vanished from the motel room, leaving Aaron unconscious and waiting for the police.