Prologue - Hopeless
"Sam! Sammy!" Dean exclaimed. "What the hell?!"
Cas and Gail had been looking at each other, but they looked sharply at the brothers now. They'd heard the alarm in Dean's voice.
Another one of Chuck's Prophecies had come true, and the Doomsday Clock towards Armageddon was ticking louder and louder.
All three of them were gathered around Sam now, looking extremely concerned.
Dean was worried, but he was also angry. "What the hell, Sammy?" he repeated. "When were you gonna tell us about this?" He peered closer. "Is that a - ?"
"Werewolf," Sam said, grimacing. "That first night, when I went into the woods to...well, you know...I was jumped from behind. It was dark, and I only had my flashlight, so - "
"Well then, maybe it wasn't a werewolf," Cas said desperately. He couldn't believe it. They had the Book in their possession. All they had to do was open it, and everything could be better again. But they had to make the descent, first. All four of them.
"No, it was, Cas," Sam said glumly. "I'm sure it was. I wish I could say it was just a wild animal, but I'd be kidding myself. What I'm wondering is why it didn't just rip my throat out, though. I picked up a tree branch and swung it at the thing a few times, and it ran off."
Dean was examining the bite mark more closely now. "Are you sure, Sammy? It just looks like an animal bite, to me."
"Look at my eyes, Dean," Sam said to his brother. "I'm burning up. I feel like I'm gonna jump out of my skin. I'm starting to turn. I didn't say anything, because I knew how important it was to get that Book."
Dean let out a frustrated breath. "OK, back the truck up a minute, here. You get bitten by a werewolf, you beat it off with a tree branch, and then you don't think to even mention it to us until we get to the top of the friggin' mountain?" he asked his brother incredulously.
Sam looked at Cas. "I know how important that Book is," he repeated. "I saw your face when we were talking about eschatology. We have to make the descent."
Gail was confused. "What the hell are you talking about? What does THAT have to do with anything?" She was starting to get a sinking feeling now. Did this have anything to do with the visions she had received from Brian? Was that what Cas wasn't telling her?
Cas was looking sheepish, and now, both Gail and Dean were regarding him suspiciously. "Cas? Got a minute?" Dean said sarcastically, frowning. He jerked his head away from Sam and rose to his feet. "You gonna be OK, there, Sammy? Or are you gonna sprout fur, and a tail?"
Sam looked up at his brother miserably, but he didn't say anything. Dean grabbed Cas by the sleeve of his coat, pulling his friend down the path and out of Sam's earshot. Gail shot Sam an indecisive glance, and then she scrambled after Cas and Dean.
Once they were down the path a ways, Dean turned angrily to Cas. "What in the holy hell is going on here?" the elder Winchester demanded of his Angel friend. "And don't say nothing, cause I swear, I will punch you right in the face."
Cas looked at Gail, but his wife was shaking her head. "Don't look at me," she told him. "I'm on Dean's side."
Dean's head swiveled to look at her. "You mean you don't know what's going on, either?" he asked Gail.
She frowned. "I thought I did." This was starting to feel like one of those frustrating types of situations, the ones where she'd thought she understood what the mission was, but Cas had a different agenda in mind. She wished she could say that this was the first time he'd pulled this on her. She really, really wished she could say that.
Gail was fed up. She huffed out a breath, looking at Dean. "We came here to get the Book of Life so that we could lock it up in Heaven and keep it away from the bad guys, but also so that we could use it to bring back everyone we've lost. We didn't say anything to any of you guys because we didn't want anybody to get their hopes up."
Dean let out a frustrated breath at that, watching the plumes of steam come out of his own mouth. Was it his imagination, or had the temperature dropped even further? So, THAT was what they had been hiding from him and Sam. He should have figured as much. But oddly enough, now that Dean was in the loop, he wasn't so angry any more. If that Book had the potential to do that, why the hell shouldn't they use it? Now all they had to do was worry about Sam. Dean was highly skeptical of his brother's story that he'd been bitten by a werewolf. Sammy didn't seem very monster-y to Dean. He just seemed sick. He'd probably been bitten by some wild animal or something, but because of the fever and because of what he and Sammy did, his mind had gone "werewolf" right away. Yeah. That was it. Dean was sure.
Gail glanced at Cas, then back at Dean. "And there's something else you should know," she told their friend, wincing inwardly. Cas was going to kill her. But this secrecy had to stop. They needed all the backup they could get, right now. "Brian is the Beast of the Apocalypse," Gail blurted out.
"Gail!" Cas said sharply, but Dean was looking at her with a baleful expression. "OK, what's the punchline? Cause I don't get it," he said, frowning at her.
But now, Gail was looking at Cas. "Look, I'm sorry if you're mad, but all this hiding things from each other crap has got to stop," Gail insisted. "We shouldn't be shutting these guys out. And YOU shouldn't be shutting ME out."
"What do you mean?" Cas asked her. As if that was going to do him any good.
"Eschatology has nothing to do with bringing our fallen family members back," she said pointedly. "When Sam and I went over to Becky's place, Brian touched me, and he said there was something you weren't telling me."
"Brian, the baby, told you," Dean said, his voice heavy with sarcasm. "And Sam thinks he got bitten by a werewolf? What the hell kind of mountain plants did you guys roll up and smoke, while me and Cas were in that crater?"
All three of them were silent for a minute, exchanging looks. Then Cas sighed heavily. "Well, I don't know about what happened to Sam, but I'm sorry to say that Gail is right about Brian. Although, it was my intention that you would never find out," he added sternly, still staring at Gail.
"Well, you know what, Cas? Maybe that's not your call," Gail said tartly. "Brian is Dean's nephew, isn't he?"
Dean was looking at the Angels, open-mouthed. "You guys aren't kidding, are you? You really think that baby is some kind of a...?"
"Beast," Cas said bluntly. "The more commonly known term would be the anti-Christ. That is an oversimplification, but we can use it, if it's the term you're more comfortable with."
Dean barked out a laugh. "Comfortable?! Oh, yeah, let's all be comfortable when we're calling Sam's son the anti-Christ. Come on, Cas! You've gotta be kidding me with this!"
"Believe me, Dean, it gives me no pleasure to tell you this," Cas said, frowning.
"Oh, well, as long as you're not happy about it, that's all I needed to hear," Dean retorted.
"Don't yell at him," Gail cut in. "I'm the one who told you, anyway. And, since you're in the mood to be mad, I'll tell you the rest: Gabriel knows about Brian, too. There's a young kid out there somewhere, who's got Gabriel's blade, and he's supposed to kill Brian with it, before Brian reaches the age of ten. If he's successful, the Apocalypse will be off."
Dean was so dumbfounded now that he had no idea what to do. "Am I on one of those stupid prank shows, or did I just stumble into the plot of a really, really bad movie?" he yelled.
Cas was growing impatient. "In any event, it's the truth, but we have more pressing issues, right now. We have to descend the mountain, in order to open the Book. Do you think Sam will be able to climb down under his own power?"
Dean had been about to berate Cas again, but that question threw him. DID Dean think that Sam was well enough to climb down? Was it Sam who was in denial, or was it Dean? WAS Sam going to turn into a werewolf? The moon last night had been almost full. If that really was a werewolf bite and Sam started to turn before they got down to the forest floor, what were they supposed to do then?
"We'd better call Bobby," Dean said.
"Don't you think I already tried that?" Cas said irritably. "Gail and I have no powers here, and our frequencies are jammed. The Book has the ancient protections surrounding it. We have to make the descent, and we have to make it the human way. We have no choice."
Dean stood still for a moment, just staring off into space. This was almost too damn much for his brain to comprehend all at once. And the whole truth wasn't even out, yet.
Gail was looking sideways at her husband. "Well?" she said coolly.
Cas was being stubborn. "We should get back," he stated. "We need to pack up, and begin the descent." Then, incredibly, he turned his back on the two of them and walked away.
Gail stamped her foot on the hard-packed snow. "You know, it's a good thing that he found that Book of Life, because I'm gonna kill him," she fumed to Dean.
His lips twitched, but then he said, "Is Sam's kid really the Beast of the Apocalypse, Gail?"
She sighed. "I wish he wasn't, Dean. I really do. But he is, and we're going to have to figure out what to do about that when we get back. But right now, as much as it pains me to admit it, Cas is right. We have to get the hell off this mountain. Then, we can deal with everything else."
"OK, Mrs. Buzzkill," Dean said, throwing his hands up in surrender. "Let's go."
So they were pushing on, making the descent as quickly as they possibly could. It had taken them five and a half days to get to the summit, and Cas was hoping to cut that down to four, on the way down. Maybe even three. But even though Sam was doing the best he could, he and Dean were only human, and they needed food, and sleep.
That first night, Dean built a fire while Cas went down the path into the thicket of the forest, hoping to find a dik-dik to roast for the Winchesters' dinner. If he could find a larger one, they could wrap the leftover meat and snack on it tomorrow, while moving down the path.
"I'm sorry," Sam was apologizing to Dean and Gail, huddling by the fire with his sleeping bag wrapped around him. He alternated between fever and chills. "I know I'm slowing us down."
"You're doing the best you can, Sam," Gail said to him. "We know that."
Sam looked nervously up at the sky. Dean had said that he thought that Sam had just been bitten by some run-of-the-mill wild animal, and that his imagination was supplying the rest. But as the clouds parted and Sam looked at Gail's face bathed in the light of the full moon, he knew that Dean was wrong. Sam's hands curled into fists inside his sleeping bag. Were his fingernails growing? He was hungry. So hungry.
Cas came back up the path a little while later, carrying a mid-sized mountain antelope. He had already skinned it at the spot where he had killed it, to save time, and also to spare Gail the sight. But as he put the carcass down on the snow beside the fire, Cas realized he should probably have told his wife to avert her eyes. He still had to eviscerate the animal, and chop it into smaller pieces, so that it would cook evenly.
Ewwww. Cas was right. She really had no interest in looking at that. So she looked at Sam, who was watching Cas avidly. She supposed that kind of thing really wouldn't faze these guys much. It was funny; as many times as Gail had fought and killed with her blade by now, there were certain things that she still felt squeamish about. Go figure.
Cas saw the way that Sam was looking at what he was doing. Was it just the fact that he was hungry, or was there more to it than that? Sam's eyes looked red, although that might just be a trick of the firelight. Cas was using his Angel blade to butcher the animal, and while he was the first one to admit that he knew very little about monster lore, Cas was aware that an Angel blade could kill a werewolf.
Sam unzipped the sleeping bag and tossed it aside. He was burning up, now. Gail made an impatient noise and hurried to pick it up from the snow. Ten minutes from now, Sam's teeth would be chattering again. She folded it up and put it beside her on top of her and Cas's sleeping bag, which was on top of the plastic, protecting it from the snow. Sam shot her a grateful look.
"So, the Book of Life," Dean said conversationally. He needed something to occupy his brain right now, or he would go nuts. "It's kind of funny. All that time we thought we were looking for the Book of the Dead."
"Are we sure that doesn't exist?" Sam asked, semi-rhetorically. "I mean, if there's one, isn't there bound to be the other?"
Cas didn't look up from what he was doing. "Bobby stated that the red file said that the Book of the Dead is no longer in existence."
"If that's true, I guess it's just as well," Dean remarked. "That's all we would need. Some evil ass-face like Vincent with the Book of the Dead, calling up an evil army."
They all looked at him, and he shrugged. "Hey, I read once in a while too, you know."
Cas returned to the task at hand. He had almost finished. Maybe he would have a little meat himself, and encourage Gail to take some sustenance as well. He planned on making significant progress tomorrow. But he felt the need to say: "Dean is right. The Book of the Dead in the wrong hands would be a very effective counterpoint to the Book of Life. But the Book of Life was always intended to be the more benign of the two, as the name would suggest. Those who are brought forth from it can choose their own destinies, once revived. Even if they were brought back by an entity with evil intentions, they could still choose to be good."
"You said that Bobby definitely said that the Book of the Dead is toast, though, right?" Dean reiterated. "What happened to it?"
"He didn't say," Cas replied vaguely. "Perhaps it never even existed in the first place."
"Like H.P. Lovecraft," Sam stated, and Gail was nodding. "The Necronomicon," she added.
"Isn't that that thing people go to every year in San Diego, where they dress up like superheroes?" Dean asked, as Cas started to fashion a spit from a tree branch. He would skewer the pieces of meat, then roast them over the fire.
Gail and Sam laughed. "No, that's ComicCon," Sam told his brother. He appreciated the laugh, even though it had made his head hurt. "The Necronomicon is a fake grimoire, from a fictional novel. It's not real. But a surprising amount of people think it is, even to this day."
Dean had no other comment to make. Oh. A nerdy literary reference. He should have figured. Whatever. He knew what a grimoire was, of course. A spell book. Like Rowena's, that had gone missing from their -
He sat up straight. Rowena's spell book. Dean looked at Sam. Cas and Gail were insisting that Sam's baby was the Beast of the Apocalypse. If it was just Gail saying that, Dean might have just put it down to her and Frank's twisted sense of humour. Dean and Gail had sure called Becky a bunch of creative names when they'd first found out she was pregnant. But Cas was saying it too, and he'd had his Serious Angel Face on at the time. Now, the little guys in Dean's head, the ones who came up with the ideas, were hard at work. Becky had trapped Sam by getting pregnant, and now the Angels were saying that Brian was evil. Sam didn't even remember having done the deed, but then Becky had turned up pregnant, anyway. Plus, there was the mystery of Cas, Gail and Gabriel having been under the effects of that spell, the one they'd had to have Rowena remove. What was the common denominator, here? Becky. Frank had even said something about her maybe dosing the wine at his place, but then he had handcuffed Rowena at the bunker, and then they'd had that whole thing in the Caribbean. To Dean's recollection, none of them had ever confronted Becky about that night. Becky, Becky, Becky.
But Dean had to be careful, here. All Sam needed right now was a couple of clues, and before they knew it, he might figure out what his brother was thinking now. Dean was thinking that Becky was fooling around with Rowena's spell book, and since Becky wasn't exactly a Mensa member, she had probably screwed up somewhere along the line. Now Sam had some kind of evil-ass, Devil spawn child that was supposed to die before the age of ten, or else the world was gonna end? What the hell kind of b.s. was that? But if Becky had been the one who had dosed the Angels to think they were younger, the question was: Why?
"Hey Cas, can I talk to you for a minute?" Dean said to their friend.
Cas had just placed the spit over the fire. He looked up at Dean. The elder Winchester gestured to where they had been before, down the path.
"Could you keep an eye on this for me, my love?" Cas asked Gail, motioning to the meat on the spit.
She eyed both men, but Gail had seen Dean looking at Sam, and she could only imagine what was going through Sam's mind, watching all of these private conversations. If she raised a protest, Sam might get suspicious. As it was, the younger Winchester was darting glances at all three of them now.
Gail moved closer to the fire to watch over the food as Cas and Dean went down the path, out of her sight.
"What's going on?" Sam asked her. "Are you guys drawing straws to see who gets to be the one who has to kill me?"
"That's not even remotely funny," she said, frowning deeply.
Sam was silent for a minute, and then he said, "I'm hungry."
Gail looked at the meat, hanging over the fire. She had no idea what she was supposed to do with it. Was she supposed to be rotating it, or something? Or was it supposed to cook on one side for a bit, and then be turned over? Dammit. She should have asked Cas about that, before he left. She peered indecisively at the spit. Then she reached out to see if she could try to rotate the spit, but her hand was too close to the fire.
"Oww!" Gail exclaimed. She jerked her hand back from the flames, shaking it.
"What's wrong?" Sam asked her in a strange, almost strangled-sounding voice.
"I burned my finger," she complained. "Sorry, Sam. You're going to have to wait until Cas gets back. I don't know what I'm doing, here."
"Come here," he said to her.
Gail walked over to where he was sitting. "Are you OK, Sam? Do you need anything?" She got down to her knees beside him. He looked feverish, and there were beads of sweat on his forehead. She reached across him for the kerchief that was sitting beside him on the sleeping bag. "Here, why don't I - "
Sam grabbed her and pulled her onto his lap. "You smell so good," he said, burrowing his face into her neck.
At first, Gail thought he was just goofing around. "Hey! I told you, you have to wait for your roast antelope," she quipped, pulling away. "Antelope. Not Angel."
Sam's mouth opened, and incredibly, he snarled like an animal. His eyes were very red-rimmed, now. Oh, my God, Gail thought. He really was a werewolf! She tried to scramble off of his lap, but he was holding her tightly, and he was too strong.
"Let me go, Sam," Gail said to him, trying to sound calm.
"I can't," he replied. "I'm so hungry." He sniffed the air. "I can't stand it, Gail. I have to feed, or I'm going to die."
"No, you won't," she said, still struggling to get loose. "I'll go over there and get you some of that meat, right now."
"I need flesh," Sam said, baring his teeth again. He leaned forward and licked her cheek, panting like a dog.
Oh, geez. Gail was getting really scared now. He was going to bite her in a second, if she didn't do something. She had no powers here. So she did the only thing she could do: she lifted her head up and screamed, calling for help from Cas and Dean.
The two of them came running a moment later, and Gail felt herself being wrenched out of Sam's grasp. Cas pulled her away from Sam. "Are you all right?" he asked her frantically.
As Gail assured him that she was, Dean was struggling with his brother. "Sam. Sammy!" he exclaimed. Holy crap.
"Tie me up," Sam was saying through gritted teeth. "Restrain me. Please."
Cas let go of Gail and rushed to help Dean. The two men seized Sam by the arms and hauled him to his feet. He was struggling mightily now, even as he was imploring them to restrain him. Sam was fighting with himself as much as he was fighting with his brother and his best friend. He was hungry. He was scared. He was ravenous. He was glad that Gail had screamed when she did. But the blood was running so hot in his veins right now...
"Please go into Dean's backpack, and get out the climbing rope," Cas said to Gail. He and Dean muscled Sam over to a tree at the edge of the path as Gail ran over to Dean's backpack. She rummaged through it, got the rope, and ran over to the men.
They lashed Sam to the tree with the rope. "Tie me tighter," Sam told them, still struggling. They pulled tighter on the line, until they felt he was secured.
Dean stood back, looking at his brother. Wow. That had escalated quickly. But it was strange: Sam still didn't look like a werewolf to him. Sure, his brother was snarling and gnashing his teeth, but he didn't have fangs, or claws. What the hell?
Gail started to shake, and Cas put an arm around her. He threw Sam a glare and then steered Gail away from the tree, where Dean's brother was still struggling against the ropes.
"Dean," Cas growled. His friend looked at Sam once more, and then Dean followed after the couple.
Once they were out of earshot, Cas put both arms around Gail and held her. She was still trembling. Gail didn't know much about werewolves. She only knew that Sam had scared her. If Cas and Dean hadn't come to her rescue as quickly as they had, she felt sure that Sam would have ripped her throat out with his teeth. Gail was convinced that Sam was turning into a monster.
Cas was on the fence. He didn't know that much about werewolves, either. All he knew was that Sam was not going to be afforded another opportunity like that. He turned on Dean angrily. "Well, Dean?"
"Well, what?" Dean replied, frowning. Cas was looking at Dean like it was Dean's fault, somehow.
"Something has to be done about him," Cas said, pulling Gail even closer towards himself. "You saw what almost happened."
Dean sighed. "Look, I'm sorry, OK? I am, Gail. But you know Sam wouldn't do anything like that if he was in his right mind. It's that damn fever. We've gotta get him down off this mountain, and get him to a doctor."
"The fever?!" Cas said, incredulous. "Are you joking? He was going to bite her throat, Dean! What fever have you ever seen that would make someone do that?"
"You don't actually think he's turning into a werewolf, do you?" Dean asked his friend. He turned to Gail. "Do you?" he repeated.
She was uncomfortable. "I don't know, Dean. All I know is that I would have been in a lot of trouble if you guys hadn't gotten there so fast."
Cas's lips pursed. "He could have killed her, Dean. And don't look at me like that. You know what I mean."
"OK, OK. We'll leave him tied up for a while," Dean said, trying to placate his friends. "If that meat is cooked, I'll even hand-feed him some. Then he'll calm down a bit. You guys know what I'm like when I'm hungry, right? He must be the same."
"I can't believe you're being humorous about this," Cas said, exasperated. "How is tying him up supposed to be a solution? Eventually, he'll gain the strength to break free, if he does not already have it. And how are we supposed to make the descent like that? Unless you plan on carrying him the entire way."
"I'll talk to him, Cas. It'll be OK," Dean said. "Look, he's not a werewolf. He just thinks he is. It's psychosomatic." Gail looked at Dean in surprise, and he chuffed out a frustrated breath, which came out as a big puff of white steam. The night air was chilly up there, so close to the summit. Even so, Dean was starting to heat up, now. "You know what?" he continued. "Everybody needs to quit looking at me like I'm the village idiot every time I use words that are more than one syllable. Yes, I know what 'psychosomatic' means. I know what a lot of words mean. Just because I don't go around spouting them all the time doesn't mean I'm not smart. Bottom line is, Sammy thinks he was bitten by a werewolf, so he's acting like a werewolf. I'll have a talk with him."
"And? And then what, Dean?" Cas said, his tone sharp. His temper was starting to rise now, too. "Will he simply stop being aggressive, just because you told him not to be? I'm not willing to put Gail in that kind of jeopardy just on your say-so."
Dean sighed. "All right. Fine. So, what's YOUR great idea, then?"
Cas released Gail and stepped away from her. "This," he said, winding up and punching Dean in the face, as hard as he could.
Dean had gone down hard. Cas had taken him completely by surprise. Cas bent down and started to drag an unconscious Dean back to the campsite, with an anxious Gail following close behind.
"What are you doing, Cas?" she asked nervously.
"What should have been done in the first place," Cas responded, grunting with effort. Dean was quite heavy when he was unconscious. "I'm going to make sure that Sam doesn't get another opportunity to hurt you."
Oh, boy. Gail wasn't sure she liked the sound of that. Surely, he didn't mean...
But she never got the chance to find out. Because when they got back to the campsite, the ropes were on the ground, and Sam was gone.
Now, Cas had a dilemma on his hands. Should he grab his blade and go looking for Sam? What if he were to find him? Did Cas have the stomach to do what needed to be done?
He took his Angel blade out of his pocket. "I need to go after him, before he gets too far away. If he doubles back, scream for me, as loud and as long as you can," Cas said to Gail. He stood there hesitating, for one more moment. Then he disappeared into the forest.
Gail's heart was beating like a hammer in her chest. She dropped to her knees beside Dean's unconscious form and started to shake him with both of her hands. "Dean! Dean! Wake up!" she shouted frantically. "I think Cas is going to kill Sam!"
Cas was moving both as quickly and as quietly as he could through the forest. He was seriously considering what he should do if he found Sam. If Sam was a werewolf, he could not be allowed to live. Yes. Cas should just euthanize him now, before the situation got even worse. Sam could have ripped Gail's throat out. Cas knew that Sam was Dean's priority, and he understood why that was so. But Gail was Cas's priority, and he meant to see to it that she would remain unharmed. Sam's son was the Beast of the Apocalypse, and now Sam was a beast, too. Dean would plead and argue that his brother should be spared, but Dean was...
Wait a moment. Was this the death that Chuck had foretold should happen? Was this the test that God had set out for Castiel? Could Sam's death be the one to end the cycle?
Dean was finally starting to stir, and as he gained consciousness, he was startled to see that Gail was looming over him, yelling and shaking him like a rag doll.
"Hey, whoa. Whoa, hey," Dean said, trying to pry her off of him. "What the hell, Gail?"
"Sam escaped," she told him. "Cas went after him."
Dean sat up, rubbing his face. "What the ever-loving crap?" Then, he remembered. "Cas really clocked me one," he complained, working his jaw. "I hate to tell you this, but next time I see him, I'm gonna owe him one. Where is he, anyway?"
Just as Gail was opening her mouth to repeat that Cas had gone into the woods to look for Sam, maybe even to kill him, Cas stumbled back out of the forest. His face and hands were bloody, and so was his Angel blade.
Oh my God, Gail thought. Her heart dropped into her stomach. No. It was too late.
"Cas, what did you do?" Dean said, rising to his feet slowly.
Then they heard a crashing sound from behind Cas, and he stepped aside. An older woman wearing a fur-lined parka came out of the woods, followed by two black men, who were carrying Sam on a litter.
"Put him down by the fire, gentlemen," the woman said briskly. She looked at a stunned Dean and Gail, then took off one of her gloves and extended her hand, walking towards them. "Dr. Laura Redfern, at your service."
"Is he OK?" Dean said, shaking with the woman reflexively. He nodded his head towards Sam.
"That's your brother, correct?" Dr. Redfern said, shaking hands with Gail.
"Yeah," Dean said, rushing towards the spot where Sam was laying. He glared at Cas on his way by, but Cas said nothing.
"He stumbled into our camp, ranting and raving," the doctor said matter-of-factly, as Dean knelt beside his brother. "Sam. His name is Sam," Dean said, dazed. What was happening, here? Sam was still breathing, and he didn't have a speck of blood on him.
Dr. Redfern saw the expressions on their faces, and she smiled. "I recognized the symptoms of acute altitude sickness in your brother - I mean, Sam - straight away. So, I had my porters hold him down because he was thrashing around, and I gave him a sedative. Then I got some antibiotic serum into him, and gave him some oxygen. As I was doing that, your friend arrived."
"Why are you all bloody?" Gail asked Cas. He wiped his face with his sleeve. "I'm sorry, my love," he said to her. Then he wiped his blade on his pants, and stashed it in his pocket.
"Your husband comes prepared," Dr. Redfern said to Gail, nodding her approval. "While my porters and I were tending to Sam, we were attacked by a wild boar. Cas came out of nowhere and killed the animal. We owe him our lives."
Gail let out a huge sigh of relief. Now she was shaking again. "I thought..." she started to say, and Cas embraced her. "I know, my darling. It's all right. It'll be all right." Dean was looking up at his Angel friend now, and Cas gave him a subtle shake of the head. The two of them had been such close friends for so long that Dean knew exactly what Cas was trying to say. He would never have been able to bring himself to kill Sam, no matter what the consequences. Right now, they would just have to concentrate on getting Sam well, and then move on from there.
"So, it looks like pork for dinner, unless you've already eaten?" Dr. Redfern said cheerily, looking dubiously at their dying fire. One of the porters stoked it, and the other one grabbed the spit with the now-burned antelope meat on it, casting it aside. "I'll go back and get some, Ma'am," he said to her. "It should be just about ready by now."
"Very good," she said, nodding. "Please bring the rice, and the wine, too. These people look like they could use a good meal." She took a seat by the fire. "Cas tells me you're descending from the mountain. It's a good thing you are, because Sam's fever is very high. You should keep a watch on him throughout the night, just in case he's still delusional. But he should be fine. We'll give him some rest tonight, and I'll loan you my helicopter to take all of you down to the jungle floor in the morning."
"Your helicopter?" Gail echoed.
Dr. Redfern was smiling again. "Yes. I'm doing a TV show for the International Channel, on adventure destinations. We're filming our climbing of Kilimanjaro right now, in fact. My porters and I were encamped for the night, along with the television show's crew members. We'll be carrying on to the summit tomorrow. It was foolhardy for the four of you to attempt the climb yourselves, without a guide, at the very least." Then she smiled at Cas. "Even though you seem to have a Crocodile Dundee on your team. Maybe we should put YOU on a show, Cas."
Now Gail smiled. "I'd watch the hell out of that show, along with about a million other women," she quipped. "Maybe we should get your business card."
Cas smiled at his wife, giving her a squeeze. "Dr. Redfern is an anthropologist, who works closely with wildlife conservation programs," he told Gail and Dean, who had moved back to his sleeping bag to sit down, now that he knew that Sam was okay.
"But that doesn't mean I can't enjoy some nice pork and rice, and a good Reisling, every now and then," Laura said, as her porters came back with the food and wine. "Please, help yourselves."
Dean didn't need to be told twice. Now that he knew everything was all right with Sam, he was ravenous. He dished himself up a big plateful from the pot that one of the porters brought. The other poured wine into plastic cups, passing them out to everyone.
Gail glanced at Sam as the doctor chuckled again. "It looks like he's down for the count," the older woman remarked. "Don't worry; we have plenty, if he wakes up hungry." She shook her head slowly, sipping from her cup of wine. "You should have heard all the funny things he was saying," she went on with good humour. "'Werewolf', indeed."
Dean just about choked on his food. Of course, he had been shoveling it in by the forkful. No offense to Cas, but this stuff was way better than those dick-things.
But Dr. Redfern was still smiling. "As an anthropologist, I've studied lycanthropy, along with many other things in lore," she told them, "and I can unequivocally say that Sam is no werewolf. It was just the high fever, making him imagine things. He must be a big horror movie fan."
Dean nodded, smirking. "Yeah. Something like that," he commented. Now it was Dean's turn to communicate non-verbally with Cas: I told you so, the elder Winchester's look said.
Laura chuckled again. "He was also raving about Demons, and monsters, and Angels. Angels! Can you imagine? Now that, I'd like to see."
Cas's lips twitched. "So would I," he said. He took a small bite from the plate of food he had taken for himself and Gail to share, thinking that it would be bad manners to refuse.
"I think YOU'RE the Angel," Gail said to the woman. "Thank you for helping Sam the way you did."
Laura gave her a brief nod in acknowledgement. But: "Nonsense," she said. "We have to look out for each other in this world. You don't have to be an anthropologist to know that once kindness and compassion are gone, that will truly be the end of the human race."
Cas had been about to take a sip of his wine, but his hand paused at that remark. He was pretty sure it had been just an expression, but it had chilled him, nonetheless. He hadn't killed Sam. What were the repercussions going to be for that decision?
Dr. Redfern finished her wine. "Well, cheerio. My men and I will go back to our camp now, and bed down for the night. You can keep the food, and the rest of the wine. We'll see you in the morning. If Sam needs some more medicine before we send you down, I'll administer it to him then. Goodnight." Then she and her porters, who had been standing by quietly, left the campsite, heading back to where they'd come from.
Dean waited a couple of minutes for them to be out of earshot, and then he looked at the Angels, breathing a huge sigh of relief. "Holy crap, Cas. You scared me. I really thought you..." He glanced down at Sam, who was still resting peacefully. He couldn't even say it.
"No, Dean," Cas said soberly. "I could never kill Sam." He saw no reason to mention that he had very nearly decided to do exactly that. But Sam wasn't a werewolf at all, was he? Just a very ill human being.
"Why'd you punch my lights out, then?" Dean said, rubbing his face. "You're gonna have to pay my next dental bill."
Oh. Right. "I just wanted you to be safe, Dean," Cas replied. "Just in case Sam WAS a werewolf, I didn't want the two of you to get into a fight."
Dean stared at him skeptically for a moment. But then, he stretched and yawned. "Whatever. Do you guys mind keeping an eye on Sleeping Beauty, there? I need to get some shuteye. Boy, am I glad she's got a helicopter. I'm sick of being up here like some kind of a mountain goat. Goodnight, you guys." He picked up his sleeping bag and shuffled off to his tent. Before he went inside, Dean picked up Sam's sleeping bag and covered his brother with it.
Gail smiled as Dean crept into his tent. She looked at Cas. "I'm so glad you found her, sweetie. She's the first lucky break we've had in a long time. Maybe our Father really does want us to use the Book."
Cas kissed his wife softly on the forehead, but he winced inwardly. He didn't necessarily share the same viewpoint. But, Castiel had a lot more experience in these matters than did his sweet, optimistic Gail.
The Angels kept watch over Sam for the rest of the night, and when he stirred in the morning, Gail brought him a thermos of water. Cas followed closely behind, just in case. He helped Sam sit up, and Gail handed their friend the thermos filled with water. Sam took it with both hands and drank thirstily.
"I'm so sorry, Gail," Sam said. "I'm okay now; or at least, I'm better. I promise."
Dean came out of his tent once he'd heard Sam's voice. "Hey, Sammy. Growing those fangs yet?" he razzed his brother.
Sam flushed. "Look, everybody, I'm really sorry," he said to the trio. "It must have been the fever." He looked around. "Is that doctor still here? I'd like to thank her."
"What doctor?" Dean said wickedly. Gail clucked her tongue. "Come on, Dean. That's not funny," she chided him.
Dean shrugged, grinning. "Once we get off this stupid mountain, you'll think it is."
"I'm going to go over to Dr. Redfern's campsite and tell her that Sam is awake," Cas announced. "I'd like her to examine you."
"While you're doing that, I'll start packing our bag," Gail said to Cas, moving towards their sleeping bag, which was still on the ground. She rolled it up, put it in the plastic, and then brought it over to where Cas's knapsack was. She crouched down to put the sleeping bag on the straps in back of the knapsack. But then, she froze. The knapsack was unzipped, and the Book of Life was gone.
A couple of minutes later, one of Dr. Redfern's porters from the night before emerged from the forest. Gail was frantic now, running all around the campsite. She'd asked Dean, and even Sam, if they had taken it for any reason, and of course, they'd said no. She was looking around wildly, but there weren't a lot of places it could be. She knew Cas didn't have it with him, and they had been here all night. Where on earth could it be?
"Looking for this?" the porter said, holding up the Book.
Just then, Cas came out of the woods. He glared at the porter. "What are you?" he said to the man.
"Cas, what the hell is going on here?" Dean said warily.
"They're dead," Cas blurted out. "Dr. Redfern and her crew are all dead." He looked at the entity who was holding the Book. "What have you done?" he asked angrily.
"What was supposed to have been done, Castiel," the entity replied. It waved the Book. "Oh, that's right. The ancient protections are preventing you from seeing my true identity. My name is Heathcliff. I'm a Reaper."
"Why did you take those people?" Cas growled.
"I didn't, Castiel," the Reaper said casually. "YOU did. They were supposed to have been killed by that wild boar last night. My boss knows what you're planning to do with this Book, and he's not happy about it."
Cas looked at Heathcliff, puzzled. "Your boss? Who would that be?"
Heathcliff laughed derisively. "Now, I know you're not stupid, so the only reason you'd be asking me that question is if you were trying to stall-"
Suddenly, the Reaper gasped. A bright light emanated from his eyes and mouth as Gail stabbed him from behind with her Angel blade. While he had been focused on Cas and Dean, she had crept up around his flank side and then sunk her knife in him, as hard and as deep as she could. Truthfully, she hadn't even known if it would even work. Gail had never killed a Reaper before.
But Castiel had, so he knew something that Gail didn't. He rushed forward and breathed the light into himself, before it dissipated. Then he picked up the Book before it hit the snow, as Heathcliff fell to his knees. "I'll look forward to seeing you there," he said to Castiel, and then the Reaper fell on his face, dead.
"Quickly!" Cas said to his companions. "I can take us all down, but I can only hold his power for a moment!" He rushed over to where Sam was, still laying on the litter. "Dean! Grab the other end! Gail! Hold onto my arm, tight!" Dean bent down to grab his knapsack. "Leave it!" Cas instructed. "There isn't time!"
He and Dean picked up the litter that Sam was on as Cas tucked the Book of Life into the crook of his arm. Gail wrapped her hands around Cas's arm, holding on tight.
An instant later, they disappeared from the mountain.
The quartet reappeared on the forest floor at the base of the mountain. Dean stumbled, but he had held onto his end of the litter. Unfortunately, Cas dropped his, and Sam went rolling off of it, onto the ground. Cas still had the Book tucked into his arm and it came loose, but Gail caught it before it hit the forest floor.
Cas let out a frustrated breath. He'd been hoping to get them all to the bunker, but a Reaper's essence was like lightning in a bottle, and he had been lucky to be able to accomplish even this much.
But just as Cas was congratulating himself, two figures appeared in front of the quartet.
Sam shook his head vigorously. He was slowly getting up from his unceremonious dumping. Dr. Redfern's medicine had worked quite well, or so he'd thought. But he had to be hallucinating now.
Metatron was sitting behind a desk that had materialized just as suddenly as he had, and he was looking down at a sheaf of papers, ignoring the four of them. He was muttering aloud, though. Something about "POV", and "character development".
And the other figure was Death. He was looking as dour as usual. "Well, well," he said dryly. "Why am I not surprised?" He held out his free hand; his usual walking stick was in the other. "I'll take my Book back, now."
Gail's eyes were wide. "YOUR Book?" she blurted out.
"Yes. It's mine," he confirmed. "I can only imagine what kind of havoc you were planning to wreak with it. How many times do I have to tell you, Castiel, that you cannot mess around with the natural order of things? Consider your old friend Metatron, here. He took it upon himself to try to change the way that things are supposed to be. Now, his quill is his weapon, and the paper is his blank slate."
"I stand by what I did to Castiel and Gail," Metatron said aloud, but he was still just shuffling the papers, holding his quill in his hand, not looking up at any of them. "She had to become a stronger character, and he had to be humbled."
"All right, all right," Death said with a trace of irritation in his voice. "You have served your purpose, if not your sentence." He waved his walking stick, and the Scribe and his desk disappeared. Death looked at Gail once more. "My Book," he said imperiously. "I won't ask again."
"Hand the Book to me," Cas said to Gail, holding out his hand to her. But he didn't dare take his eyes off of Death. When the ancient entity decided to act, it would be swift, and decisive. "It was my idea," Cas said firmly. "The others aren't involved. The punishment will be mine, and mine alone."
"How noble of you, Castiel," Death said in an even tone. "But, whether or not I believe you remains to be seen. I will never understand why it is that you think you can just bypass any long-standing system that you please, in order to get what you want."
"I'm not doing it for myself," Cas argued. He had a hand on the Book now, but Gail was clutching onto it with both hands, refusing to let Cas take it from her. She was terrified of what Death would do to him, if he did.
"You're making the grand assumption that I care what your motives are," Death said in that dry tone that he often used to convey sarcasm. "You're the reason I have to conceal these types of items in those sorts of places. You, and these Winchesters. And now, your wife has joined your little band of miscreants, as well." He held out his hand again. "I'll have my Book, now."
The words were out of Gail's mouth before she could stop herself. "You said you weren't going to ask again, so I thought I was in the clear."
There was a sharp intake of breath from Cas, but Dean smirked, despite himself. She was probably gonna get them all killed in a minute, but then at least he could die laughing.
Death was looking at her balefully. "Do you think this is amusing?"
Now, both Dean and Sam were smirking. They couldn't help it. Had Death ever heard of Joe Pesci, they wondered?
But Castiel was terror-stricken. "Please forgive my wife. She has an unfortunate habit of using humour in situations where it is not always appropriate."
Death moved closer to Gail, staring at her intently. "Whether or not that is the case, my point remains: the four of you seem to think that the rules of the natural order don't apply to you. But, as you have seen over the past year or so in your own family, life will find a way, and so will death, of course." He looked at Sam. "You and your brother should be dead by now, a dozen times over. But you insist on continuing to circumvent the natural order of things. Therefore, Sam had to kill his brother, to rid the world of Lucifer. Dean was supposed to have remained in Hell, when he was first dragged there, kicking and screaming, by those hellhounds. Therefore, as it turned out, it was you, Sam, who ended up in the cage, being driven insane by Lucifer."
Death's eyes shifted back to Cas and Gail. "You were supposed to have been killed by your birth mother, when you were still a toddler," he said to Gail. "But inexplicably, she changed her mind when she was in that house with you and Frank's mother. You received far more years than you should have. But as it turned out, that was a punishment, not a reward. Now, when you lose everyone you love, it will be far, far worse."
"And, you?" Death continued, saving his final salvos for Cas. "You have been a thorn in my side for untold millennia. No matter what the rule, you have found a way to break it. No matter how many times you are told that something must be the way it should be, you always seem to want to do the opposite. You feel as if you are hard done by, don't you, Castiel? All of the suffering you have been through over the course of time, all of the pain, could be avoided, if you would just accept that there is a reason for the course of events to unfold as they do, and keep your nose out of them."
"If I see something that is wrong, I feel the need to act," Cas said defiantly. "Some things are worth the risk."
"Like Germany?" Death said, his lips pursing tightly.
"Yes. Like Germany," Cas retorted. "I'm sorry if that skewed the numbers in your ledger book, or whatever you feel is important to you. But these are human lives we are talking about. Something had to be done."
Death half-shrugged. "And so, something was," he said succinctly.
"Let me have one page," Cas begged, and Gail was looking curiously at her husband now. Cas had mentioned Germany to her before, but she had no idea what he was talking about. And now, he had a tone to his voice she had never heard before.
"Please," Cas continued. "I entreat Thee. I have learned my lesson. I swear that I have. I'll go back and do everything the way it was supposed to have been done in the first place. Please. I promise."
Death looked at him speculatively. He would ultimately benefit greatly if Castiel did as he was promising to do now. But, could he be trusted? That was very much in question. However, no matter what Castiel endeavoured to do, Death was one of the handful of ancient beings who would remain ever constant, no matter how far back Castiel chose to go.
So Death gave a slight nod of acquiescence and Cas said, "Thank you." Then he looked at Gail. She still had both hands on the Book of Life, refusing to relinquish it.
"Give the Book to him. Please," Cas said to his wife. She looked at him, wide-eyed again. Was he nuts? What was going on, here? But their frequency was still on the fritz, and Cas was looking at her calmly. "Please," he repeated.
She didn't want to do it. She really didn't want to do it. But, did she have a choice? Death could twitch one finger, and all four of them would be reduced to ashes. Cas obviously had something up his sleeve. He was supposed to go back in time and fix something he'd messed up on. Maybe even more than one thing. If he did that, Death would be appeased, and they could still get out of this situation alive. But if whatever Cas had to do would make Death happy, how horrible was what Cas had to do? It chilled her blood just to think about it.
Gail handed the Book to Death. He took it, looked at it for a moment, and then ran his hand over the cover. The embossed gold letters began to glow, and once all of the letters were outlined, he pulled the Book open.
Gail and the Winchesters had grimaced, expecting to hear a loud, thunderous noise. Or maybe something would come jumping out of the thing, or flying out of it, like the world's oldest, scariest, magical genie.
But nothing happened. It was an ancient Book, but it was just a book. Death eyed Cas once more, and then he carefully tore out the first page of the Book and extended it.
Cas stepped forward, and Death said, "As you may be aware, the Overleaf is already gone. Because you dispatched Raguel so efficiently, I have decided to grant your plea. And, because this is the Appendix, you may use it three times. Make sure that you are judicious. I will stay here with your human friends, until you return."
"Sam's really sick - " Dean began to say, and Death gave him an indulgent look. He extended his free hand and touched Sam's forehead with one long finger. The younger Winchester stood up straight, completely cured.
Something dawned on Cas now. "My HUMAN friends?" he echoed, glancing at Gail.
Death's eyebrow raised. "I presumed that I would not be able to dissuade you from taking your wife with you." He looked at Gail. "I am granting you a very large favour. Do not abuse it," Death added sternly. He handed the page to Cas. "Do your duty, and we will see you here when you are done."
Sam and Dean stood there, open-mouthed. How long was this going to take?
"Time is merely fleeting," Death said, as if they had spoken aloud.
Cas took Gail's hand, holding it tightly. Then he spoke a phrase in the ancient language, and then the Angels were gone.