Torn and Saved

The voice woke Inias so abruptly that he didn't even stop to question why he'd slept in the first place. It wasn't a loud voice; it wasn't a scream. It wasn't even in the room. It came into his mind on the same whispery thread as all communications from his kind.

It wasn't an order, as he would have expected. It wasn't a call back to the ranks or a demand for his location. It didn't even sound like the owner of the voice had intended for him to hear his words. Instead it was as if he'd cried the words to himself and unknowingly sent them out.

He knew the voice. It was his mate, his beautiful mate who should have been safely up in Heaven tending Eden with Joshua. It was Samandriel. But the cry was no lonely pining sigh. It wasn't the cry of one who believed his mate lost and was grieving. There was pain in his voice; tangible, physical pain. His voice rasped as if he'd been screaming. He sobbed out Inias' name as if he were only trying to comfort himself. To pretend the other angel was with him.

Inias sat bolt upright, scattering the blankets that had been arranged like a nest beneath him. The rusty bedframe creaked obnoxiously as he propelled himself onto his feet. The rush of emotion that rode in on the wavering connection left him gasping. His body crackled, sharp with electricity; his vessel's heart raced as adrenaline rushed into his veins.

Rapidly snagging the mental thread that joined him with his mate, he raced along it, senses branching like feelers. Atmospheric density, radiation levels, temperature, pressure, gravity variations, sounds, smells, magnetic field lines, radio waves... anything that could hint at Samandriel's location. His mental map narrowed with each new stimulus; each hint, each second brought him closer, like a computer triangulating a phone call.

Northern hemisphere, North America, United States, Nebraska, Fillmore County, Geneva...

Without warning, the link was gone. Gone in a spike of pain that had Inias doubled over, clutching his head. The connection was silent; utterly and completely silent. For a moment Inias' heart twisted with grief. But the connection wasn't gone, just blocked.

His eyes darted around the dark, dusty shack he'd been hiding in. He didn't have much, just his blade. He knew he didn't have the strength to go after Samandriel's captors alone. He would need help. He thought of Castiel, of the humans—the Winchesters. They would help. And perhaps that demon woman. He glanced at the thin scar on his palm. Had there been anyone left of his garrison he would have called them up but he remembered more clearly than he wished how the Leviathans had slaughtered them. If there were any survivors they were in hiding just as he was.

With barely a thought, the blade vanished from the table and Inias felt it rejoin the rest of his body, once more becoming his sting. He straightened his vessel's garments and extended his senses once more, feeling for the presence of Castiel.

~8~8~8~8~8~8~

"All right. What am I looking for?"

"Well, when you torture an angel, it screams and that kind of pain, it creates a ripple effect of strange incidents." Castiel glanced around the cabin, noting the significant lack of anything that wasn't Dean's. He narrowed his eyes. "Where's Sam?"

"Sam's gone." Dean's voice carried a note of disappointment which Castiel didn't fail to notice. "It's all right. We'll, uh, find Alfie ourselves."

There was a soft flutter on the opposite side of the room and Dean felt an ozone crackle in the air behind him—a feeling that usually meant Cas was ready for a fight. He didn't know what he expected to see when he lowered his laptop screen, but a slim, shaggy-haired, unshaven dude in a suit was not it. Crap, what was this one's name...?

"Inias," Castiel greeted, not altogether standing down.

The other angel stared at Castiel for a long moment, his eyes flicking between confusion, relief, and awe.

"Castiel. Brother... You're yourself again."

Dean looked between the two angels as Castiel's head went down. Something indefinable passed over his face. Dean watched, memorized it, and filed it away in his ever-growing collection of 'what the fuck, Cas?' moments. He didn't know if he was worried quite yet, but concerned seemed like a good word. It took Castiel an abnormally long time to respond but when he did it was as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

So he's still doing that lag thing...

"Yes. I regained myself in Purgatory." He straightened. "Why are you here?"

Inias' face grew solemn. "I need your help."

Dean was about to tell him to get in line when Castiel nodded. "Yes. Of course."

"Whoa. Hang on, Cas. One thing at a time."

"This is about Samandriel, Dean."

Inias looked beyond relieved. "You heard him too?"

"We've been attempting to pinpoint his location." Castiel looked to Dean. "The vicinity of Hastings—"

"Geneva," Inias cut in. "I traced him to Geneva, Nebraska."

Dean backspaced along his search bar, narrowing the search to Geneva. He scanned the headlines—the usual traffic accidents, missing kids, murders, local political scandals, and some guy who stole a lawnmower. But one caught his practiced eye.

"Cas. Strange incidents, right?" He turned the laptop so the angels could see. "I think we're on to something."

~8~8~8~8~8~8~

Less than fifteen minutes later they were loading the Impala. Things went faster when there was only one person to clean up after.

"So, Cas, you gonna explain to me why Inias is taking this so personally?" He shut the trunk. "I mean, don't get me wrong, it's great having some backup on this, but what gives? He shows up out of nowhere wanting to help..."

Cas had that expression he always wore when he was having to remind himself that Dean didn't know everything that he did about angels.

"Inias and Samandriel are mates, Dean."

"Mates? Like British friends mates or Discovery Channel nature program kind of mates?"

Castiel narrowed his eyes in confusion, looking at Dean like he'd just spoken a foreign language. "They're pair-bonded."

"Right," Dean nodded. "Nature program." Cas still looked confused but he elected not to ask. In his silence, Dean continued. "In that case I need to know that he's gonna be okay if we get in there and Weiner Hut hasn't made it."

"I can't promise that, Dean."

"If he loses his head..."

Castiel sighed. "A pair-bond is the most powerful force in an angel's life. From the moment two angels fall in love that bond is set in stone. They cannot fall out of love. They cannot feel that love for anyone else. If an angel loses his mate he will never move on and he will never take another mate." He paused, holding Dean's gaze as he let the information sink in. "If Samandriel dies, Inias will grieve for the rest of his life. And the one responsible for his death will be subject to Inias' vengeance. I can't promise that he will maintain composure."

"Fair enough." Dean leaned on the frame of the open driver's side door, glancing over his shoulder at the cabin. The soft click of the door was all that heralded Inias' exit, freshly shaven, his suit and hair no longer dishevelled. With a dismissive wave of his hand the locks on the cabin door bolted themselves.

He seemed composed on the surface, but Dean knew the look. The tension in his frame, the forcibly blank expression. It was the look of a man trying desperately to hide how afraid he was.

"You ready?"

Inias nodded. "Yes."

Dean studied him a moment longer, watching him circle the car. Castiel was already in the passenger seat, staring ahead and waiting in that way that used to freak Dean out.

"You ever been in a car before?" he asked, noticing the apprehensive cast to Inias' eyes.

The angel shook his head. "Is it fast?"

"It can be," Dean smirked. "Get in."

~8~8~8~8~8~8~

Inias later made a mental note to ask Dean why the car had been necessary. It was slower than he would have liked and while Castiel was clearly resigned to the excruciatingly slow pace of the machine, Inias couldn't help but tick every second over in his mind and wonder whether the next would be Samandriel's last. His mate had felt so weak in that brief contact they'd shared and the lingering fear and guilt gnawed at the pit of his stomach. He'd asked several times if the car could be coaxed to go faster and had been informed that Dean was 'already doing twice the limit'. Inias didn't know what that meant but he gathered it was something they could be in trouble for.

When they finally reached Geneva, Inias extended his senses outward through several sub-dimensions and felt Castiel do the same. Unfortunately, they both knew that whatever warding Crowley had put up would severely hamper their ability to sense both demons and angels. There would be blind spots and those blind spots would be almost imperceptible.

They didn't even bother with a motel room. Dean drove straight to the hospital where the unwitting victim of their 'strange incident' was recovering. Inias let Dean take the lead as they lied their way into the facility. Apparently a Press badge would get you anywhere. He made a note of that.

"Mr. Hinckley? Hi." Dean stepped into the room. "Uh, we're from the, uh, Geneva Gazette. I wanted to ask you a few questions about your ambush."

Inias resisted the urge to reprimand Dean for the cruel pun. The burned man didn't look very impressed.

"Yeah, well... I'd laugh too if it didn't feel like the sun just ate my face."

"It's a metaphor," Castiel clarified. Inias wondered if humans always needed such clarification. Following Castiel's lead, he corrected.

"Actually, it's a simile. His use of the word 'like'—"

"Sorry," Dean interrupted, scowling at the both of them. Inias wondered where they'd transgressed. "Uh, now, in the police report, it said that the, uh—the bush, it talked to you, yeah?"

The man in the bed looked embarrassed. "Yeah, I know it sounds crazy, but, yeah."

"What did it say?" Inias stepped forward despite Dean's warning glance.

"No clue." Mr. Hinckley shrugged. "Sounded like Klingon to me."

"Gonna need exact words."

Hinckley looked at Dean as if he was the crazy one. "Are you serious?"

Castiel's head poked around, studying Dean briefly before nodding. "That's his serious face, yes."

Inias was certain it had been a rhetorical question, but he decided that bringing up grammatical errors would likely irritate Dean. Especially with the way he rolled his eyes at Castiel's words.

"Please, Mr. Hinckley." Inias tried to sound encouraging. "It's important."

Hinckley shrugged. "Sounded something like... sol-voch." He paused. "Yeah. Sol-voch-tay."

Inias frowned, glancing at Castiel. Why Samandriel would have been screaming out SOLVOCT was beyond him. It sounded suspiciously like programming and that only increased his fear. If Crowley was brainwashing him...

"Thank you, Mr. Hinckley. You've been very helpful." Dean smiled, but it came out as more of a grimace.

"Yeah. Sure." Hinckley just looked confused.

Dean left the room, Castiel close on his heels. Inias went to follow, but paused. His senses were still extended and one of the things they were relaying to him nagged at him. He felt bad enough that his mate's pain had so badly damaged this man and while he couldn't spare the energy it would take to heal his burns, there was something he could do. He stepped to Mr. Hinckley's bedside and before the protests had even left the human's mouth, Inias pressed two fingers to his burned forehead. When he removed them, Hinckley was staring at him in a similar fashion as he had Dean.

"What the hell...?"

"You had a large blockage in your left ventricle. Within a month it would have been large enough to cause cardiac arrest." Inias took a step back. "I removed it."

Hinckley's mouth worked silently and a blend of awe and fear washed through his eyes. Before the words "Who are you?!" had a chance to fully leave his lips, Inias spread his wings and vanished from the human's perception, sailing through the adjacent dimension and rejoining Dean and Castiel in the hall outside.

Dean shot a glance over his shoulder as the flutter of wings subsided, replaced with a fresh set of footsteps.

"Well, what do you think? Mean anything to you two?"

Castiel nodded. "Yes. It's Enochian. It means 'obey'."

"Obey? Obey what?"

Inias met Castiel's gaze and in an instant knew that the older angel had read every emotion there was to read. Without speaking a word, Castiel extended a soot-black wing, draping it over Inias' shoulders and his own trembling wings, tucked close to his vessel's back. He nodded and Inias took the prompt.

"We don't know," he replied. "But the... The amount of pain Samandriel must be in not just to manifest through shrubbery but to burn." He stopped, swallowed, and reigned in his emotions. "We have to find him. Before it's too late."

"Okay." Dean looked Inias in the eye and the angel could see genuine empathy. "Okay, well, look, a sign like that—Alfie can't be too far, right? So we'll just start at the bush and work our way out."

"And look for what exactly?" Castiel interjected. "Crowley could have him anywhere."

If it was possible to shrug with one's face, Dean managed it. "Well, if I know Crowley, the place will be swarming with demons. So we'll just drive till we see ugly."

'Drive' didn't sound promising, but Inias wasn't about to protest. It would be thorough this way, and thorough was what they needed.

~8~8~8~8~8~8~

The drive was slow and quiet. All three of the vehicle's occupants were too busy staring out the window to do much else. They surveiled office blocks under construction, abandoned factories, empty warehouses, old churches, and foreclosed houses. Anywhere where there was ample room and no one around. But that was the problem. No one around. No demons, no Hellhounds. Nothing. The tension in the car rose until it was nearly unbearable.

It was Castiel who broke the silence.

"Why did you never return home?"

It took Dean a moment to realize the question wasn't aimed at him. His eyes flicked between the two angels before returning to the road ahead. Inias swallowed.

"I was afraid of the consequences."

Castiel cocked his head. "What consequences?"

"How do you think I survived?" Inias didn't take his eyes off the passing streets. "Our entire garrison was slaughtered by the Leviathans and yet here I am." A furtive glance met Castiel's confused eyes. Inias felt his gut clench as he continued. "I ran, Castiel. I ran and hid like a coward. Our garrison stood and fought and died, and instead of dying with honour by their side I turned my back and fled." He returned his gaze to the streets outside. "I know the penalty for cowardice."

There was a cold, heavy silence for a long time, broken only by the rumble of the Impala's engine and the sound of passing traffic.

"There was no way to defeat them. No one could blame you for fleeing. The entire garrison should have." Castiel's head was down in silent mourning.

"We had a Prophet to protect," Inias reminded him. "I abandoned those under my command!"

"There are so few of us left." Castiel's voice was a murmur. "Each and every one still alive is a blessing. I thank our Father for giving you the sense to flee from that fool's errand, and so will the rest of Heaven." A bark entered Castiel's voice and Inias' spine straightened on instinct. "If we succeed in saving Samandriel, Heaven will simply be glad to have another mated pair capable of producing offspring. Greater sins than yours have been forgiven."

Inias swallowed, feeling like a fledgling that had just been reprimanded. "I apologize," he replied on sheer reflex. Castiel was his superior. He'd never talked back to a superior.

"Samandriel believed you lost." Castiel's voice was low and quiet. "He grieved you."

"I thought it better for him to be mated to one who had fallen with honour rather than one who had returned in disgrace."

It was clear that Castiel wanted to say more, but Dean cleared his throat and pulled the Impala up next to a fence.

"Wow, will you look at that? Our ninth abandoned factory. Ain't that America?" He shot a sidelong glance at Castiel as the angel surveyed the complex through Dean's binoculars. "Hey, what do you say, this doesn't pan out, we head back to that beer-and-bacon happy hour about a mile back, huh?"

Inias narrowed his eyes. If he wasn't mistaken, the invitation to share a meal was common courtship behaviour amongst humans. He wondered if Dean had intended it that way.

"Wait a minute, Dean." Castiel seemed not to have noticed the implications. "Those derelicts, they're demons. I can see their true faces." He passed the binoculars to Dean. Dean sighed, looking defeated, and took the binoculars.

"Crowley's got that many hell monkeys outside, he's got to have at least double inside."

"And angel warding," Inias added. "I can feel it."

Dean didn't look impressed. "Well, you two, me, and a demon knife ain't gonna cut it."

"Okay. I'll get Sam." Castiel's wings flared open.

"No. We don't need Sam." Dean snapped.

"But you just said—"

"Look, if Sam wanted in, he'd be here, okay? I got a better idea."

As Dean pulled away from the factory, Inias felt his stomach twist into a knot. His mate was in that building. Were it not for the warding it would be nothing more than a short flight. It physically pained him to allow Dean to drive away. As if sensing his discomfort, Dean threw a glance over his shoulder, his eyes full of sympathy.

"Hang in there, buddy. We'll be back."

~8~8~8~8~8~8~

They left the Impala secured in the parking lot of the nearby airport. It had been Inias' idea. It was a lot where cars could be left for long periods of time without being suspect, and a busy enough one that any roaming demons would be unlikely to spot the Impala. He didn't want to risk tipping off Crowley. Not when they were so close to rescuing Samandriel. Dean had looked vaguely impressed. Impressed enough to not complain about the cost of parking.

After a quick check to be certain they weren't being observed, the two angels took off, carrying Dean with them across the country and to the houseboat he'd specified. It belonged to a hunter named Garth Fitzgerald IV and was currently the hiding place of the Prophet Kevin Tran.

Kevin greeted Inias with more warmth than the angel had expected. He accepted Inias' plea for forgiveness and offered condolences for the angels who had died defending him. Inias remembered finding Ra'amiel and Satqiel's bodies and briefly grimaced before thanking Kevin for his kindness. The two had been another mated pair. He comforted himself with the knowledge that they had at least died together.

When Dean and Castiel got down to business, Inias took his leave, stepping through the hatch and making his way up onto the deck. Despite the hunter's insistence on calling it a houseboat, the Fizzle's Folly was most certainly a ship. Inias wasn't certain how Garth could have acquired the vessel; it was his understanding that such things were costly. But it was clear that at one time the safehouse had been an industrial operation. It would have taken closer inspection to determine whether it had been a small shipping vessel, a whaling ship, or a fishing trawler—Inias wasn't curious enough.

Instead he wandered the upper deck, spreading his wings and letting the sea breeze ruffle his feathers. Out on the bow he closed his eyes, taking deep breaths and relishing the salt smell. He could feel the subtle rise and fall of the deck, could hear the lapping of the water on the hull, the scream of the gulls and the croak of the ravens.

The ocean was the one thing he and Samandriel had had in common. Inias had been a soldier from the moment he reached adulthood. He had been raised for combat and bloodshed. It had been all he knew. Samandriel was a gardener. By all the usual customs they would never have met. Gardeners remained in Eden with Joshua, tending the flora and fauna. At night they would retire to a communal roost in a copse of overgrown ginkgoes. Soldiers rarely visited the Garden. It held no fascination. But the ocean had held sway over Inias since before he fledged. He had taken to running off in the evenings and early mornings, escaping to the beach to explore the tide pools, to ride the wind with the small grey-and-white pterosaurs, to collect shells and play with polished stones. He was always alone, but the sounds, sights, and smells of the sea were irresistible to him. Whether it was the oceans within the Garden's walls or the roaring, frothy behemoths on Earth, something in him had been beckoned by the waters.

Even as an adult he made his sojourns to the coasts. Hester accompanied him once or twice, but she inevitably grew bored. While the others of his garrison were courting mates or tirelessly performing duties, he was still spending long, lone hours meandering on the sands and pebbles and detritus of the coastlines.

It was a day much like this one on which Inias had found another of his kind on the beach. There was a brisk wind off the sea which whipped salt spray into his eyes and feathers and tossed great rolling waves onto the sand. Darting and tumbling amongst those waves was another angel. Creamy-white feathers nearly indistinguishable from the seafoam, he seemed like some elemental spirit or ocean nymph. An enchanting, melodious laugh rang out over the roar of the sea.

Inias paused in his usual route, making his way down to where the sand was wet. It wasn't long before the other angel was thrown unceremoniously clear of the reach of the lashing water. He shook his feathers as dry as he could, still laughing as he bowed his head in acknowledgement to Inias.

"Warrior," he greeted with a smile.

Inias blinked. "How do you...?"

The angel let out a soft chuckle. "It's the way you carry yourself. Head high, wings tucked close. You're like a raptor ready to spring."

"I apologize."

Again with the little laugh. "Don't. There's nothing wrong with being what you are. Vigilance keeps you alive, right?" Blue eyes blinked, suddenly uncertain. "I wasn't interrupting you, was I?"

"Of course not." Inias glanced around at the waves and the sand. "I... I just like to come here when my duties are complete."

The other's smile widened. "Me too." He sat straighter. "My name's Samandriel."

"Inias." He bowed his head. "Captain in the garrison beneath Archangel Raphael. You?"

White feathers ruffled in a shrug. "I'm just a gardener. Nothing special."

That was that. The soldier met the gardener. They ended up spending a good deal of time together on the many beaches of Earth. They went from acquaintances to friends, from friends to... something more. Neither ever truly planned their courtship, it just happened. Inias could never pinpoint the exact moment he realized he loved Samandriel, but he certainly remembered the day they consummated their new pair-bond. They'd been by the sea then, too.

At the edges of Inias' perception he felt Castiel leave. He was half certain he knew where the other angel was headed. There were things they needed, not least of which was Dean's brother. Despite the human's protests, both angels had privately agreed that Sam Winchester was necessary to the operation. A few demonic cluster bombs weren't going to cut it, and they couldn't risk the Prophet. Unless Garth chose to return in time, they were going to need someone else. Sam was the obvious choice.

Castiel had assured Inias that he was ready to deal with Dean's whining. Fortunate, as Inias' patience was at its limits. He leaned on the bow rail, letting the sounds of the ocean lull him into a sleep-like meditation. Field rest. It was all he could allow himself. He needed to be ready.

~8~8~8~8~8~8~

Castiel's return roused Inias from his blissfully blank state. When his eyes opened the sun had begun to set, painting the ocean shades of red and violet. Lights had begun to flick on in the distant high-rises. The water was a perfect mirror, still and glassy. Distant robins chattered their last songs of the day. "I'm on my way, A HOATH," Inias whispered before heading inside.

He heard raised voices before he even opened the hatch. It was easy enough to identify the sources as the two Winchesters. Inias sighed, stepping through the hatchway as Dean snapped:

"I told you we didn't need him."

Inias watched as Castiel flicked his primaries in frustration.

"We need everything, Dean!" the older angel growled. "And I need both of you, as you say, to stow your crap. Can you do that?"

None of them appeared to have noticed Inias' entrance, so they jumped when he spoke.

"My mate's life is in jeopardy. Until he is safe I would appreciate it if you would both stop acting like fledglings."

Sam and Dean looked at each other, chastened, if not reconciled. At the very least they appeared capable of working together. Castiel nodded at Inias and both angels went to work on Kevin's instructions. They had sufficient supplies for two demon bombs. Hopefully that would be enough.

Enochian

A HOATH: (ah hoh-ah-teh): My love.