Title: I Call Out Amidst of All the Fallout (Chapter 1/?)
Author: Taya
Pairings/Characters: Eventual Dean/Castiel, Sam, Bobby, Balthazar
Spoilers: Up to 6.22. Some plot points are based loosely on future spoilers and comments made by the cast.
Warnings: No beta, so all mistakes are my own. Creative use of commas.
Rating: R (just to be safe)
Word Count: WIP (3100 for Chapter 1)
Author's Note: The title is from the Steve Carlson song "Love You or Leave You." Jensen wrote the line, "In spite of it all I call out amidst of all the fallout." Steve said it's his favorite line in the song. It's mine as well.
Summary: "It had been one month since the eclipse. One month since Cas had declared himself God and demanded their allegiance."
Chapter One – In the Beginning
Dean stood silently at the kitchen window, nursing his beer and staring absently out at the mountains of cars that littered Bobby Singer's salvage yard.
It had been one month since the eclipse.
One month since Cas had declared himself God and demanded their allegiance.
Sam and Bobby had turned to Dean for guidance in that moment, but he had remained silent, pretty sure that "Go fuck yourself" wasn't exactly what the new deity wanted to hear.
Cas had simply sighed and smiled patiently, saying that he would give them some time to think it over, before disappearing.
When they had made it back outside, they found the Impala inexplicably perfectly restored to her original beauty. Not a word was spoken as they made their way back to Bobby's, but really, what could any of them say?
That had been one month ago.
Since then, things had been relatively quiet on the home front. A vengeful spirit here. A couple of vamps there. Nothing serious. Just enough to keep them busy. And nothing so far away that they couldn't return to Bobby's in-between.
The only downside was that Sam and Bobby constantly wanted to discuss their "Cas problem." They wanted to plot and plan and take action, whereas Dean, for really the first time in his life, was content to just sit back and wait.
What was the point in going after Cas before he even did something to prove he needed going after?
That's when Dean heard raised voices coming from the next room. He walked quietly to the doorway and peered around the corner. Sam and Bobby had their backs to him, and were pouring over something on Bobby's desk.
"Seriously, Bobby," Sam said, shaking his head. "I mean, you've had some crazy ideas—"
"Yeah, and your plan's so much better," Bobby snapped. "Oh wait…you don't have one."
Sam was quiet for a moment, staring down at the desk. "Dean's not gonna like it."
"Yeah, well…Dean might not get a say-so."
"A say-so in what?"
Sam and Bobby started guiltily as they turned to face Dean. None of them spoke as Dean approached the desk.
"What is that?" he asked, pointing to the piece of paper the two hunters had been studying so intently.
Sam shared a glance with Bobby, before sighing and turning to his brother. "It's the summoning spell that you used to call Tessa."
Dean's brow wrinkled at that. "Okay. So, why do we need a reaper?"
"The same reason that you needed one last time," said Sam. When Dean just raised his eyebrows at him, he went on. "To talk to Death."
Dean was still confused. He looked back and forth between Bobby and Sam.
"Okay, guys," he began, rubbing his forehead, "one more time. Like I'm five."
Bobby heaved a dramatic sigh. "When you talked to Death in Chicago a couple of years ago, you said that he mentioned somethin'. Somethin' important," Bobby began. "He said that he had the power to reap God."
The silence that followed was the loudest that Dean had ever heard, as he absorbed exactly what it was that Bobby was saying.
"Are you freaking kidding me?" Dean growled dangerously, glaring at Bobby.
"Told ya," Sam whispered.
"When the hell did this get put on the table?"
"Just now!" roared Bobby, stepping closer to Dean. "Not all of us are content to just sit around twidlin' our thumbs!"
"Damn it, Bobby, he hasn't even done anything yet!"
"Hasn't done anything yet?" Bobby yelled, stepping even closer to Dean. "Well, I'll just be sure to tell that to my friend who he kidnapped and tortured! Oh, wait a second…"
"Okay," said Sam, stepping between them. "Guys, this isn't helping."
Bobby and Dean continued to stare daggers at one another.
"Bobby," Sam said in warning.
Bobby finally stepped back and took a seat on his desk, fuming silently. Sam turned back to his brother.
"Now look, Dean, no one's going to kill Cas," he said. "Not yet," he added, before Bobby could open his mouth to protest. "But we do need to have a plan in place. Okay? Just in case Cas decides to go all Old Testament."
Dean seemed to calm a little.
"Look, I want to save Cas too," Sam went on. "But, if we can't, then we have to be prepared to do what we have to do."
Dean ran a hand through his hair, as he turned away. "Alright," he said. "Yeah, that makes sense."
He stood quietly again, staring out the window. He knew that Sam was right. That he was only doing what his hunter instincts told him to do. Dean knew that if he wasn't so emotionally involved, he'd be doing the same thing. Planning for every possible situation. But he couldn't. Because even though he didn't know what was going to happen next, he did know one thing for sure.
He couldn't kill Cas. Even after everything that's happened. There was no way.
"Dean?" Sam said, interrupting his thoughts. "Do you have a plan? To get Cas back?"
Dean was silent for another minute. "Not yet," he said. "But I'll think of something."
I have to.
A few hours later, Dean was asleep on the couch, with Bobby in his room, and Sam in the bedroom upstairs. He was suddenly jarred awake by the flutter of wings and his feet being unceremoniously pushed off the arm of the couch.
"What the-?" he asked groggily, sitting straight up.
Balthazar was there, collapsing onto the couch next to Dean.
He looked exhausted.
"Dude, what the hell? We all thought you were dead," said Dean, shifting over to make more room.
"Yes, well, I was. For a time," Balthazar replied, resting his head on the back of the couch and closing his eyes.
"What are you talking about?" Dean asked, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.
"Well…before Cassie hoovered up all of those Purgatory souls, he stabbed yours truly in the back. Literally."
Dean looked him up and down. "So how are you here?"
Balthazar opened his eyes and stared up at the ceiling. "He said that he brought me back to show that he was a forgiving God. A God who gave second chances." Balthazar closed his eyes again. "He's made me his second-in-command."
"Wow."
"Indeed."
Dean took a moment to look at Balthazar. The angel seemed more forlorn than Dean had ever seen him.
"No offense, dude," he said, "but you look like shit."
Balthazar snorted. "You try playing Trotsky to Cas's Lenin. Not a lot of time for beauty rest."
Silence settled over them for a minute, before Dean asked the question that he had been dying and dreading to have answered.
"So how are things under the new regime?"
Balthazar sighed and turned his body toward Dean, one arm slung over the back of the couch.
"Well, I will say that you monkeys certainly got the non-fuzzy end of this particular lollipop."
"What do you mean?" Dean asked.
"Don't tell me you haven't noticed the distinct lack of creepy-crawlies?"
"That was Cas?"
Balthazar nodded. "He sent a garrison down to take out some of the Big Kahunas of Monsterland. Then the rest just decided to lay low, leaving just enough pieces on the board for you and Sam to keep playing the game."
Dean took a minute to absorb this information. "So a lack of all things supernatural? That ain't such a bad thing."
"No," agreed Balthazar. "Nor, I imagine, are the lack of hurricanes, tsunamis, tornadoes, and plague. Like I said, non-fuzzy end of the lollipop."
It was Dean's turn to rest his head on the back of the couch and stare at the ceiling. "So what about upstairs?"
Balthazar was silent for so long that Dean turned his head to look at him. The angel's eyes had gone dark and he looked more serious than Dean had ever seen him.
"His first order of business was to make an example of all those angels who had sided with Raphael during the war, to show that rebellion was unacceptable."
"He punished 'em?" Dean asked.
"Killed them."
Dean's eyes widened. "Jesus."
Balthazar nodded. "Then he put the rest of the angels through…reconditioning."
"Is that as ominous as it sounds?"
Balthazar nodded again. "He then put out the blanket order to all angels that we were not to come to Earth unless specifically ordered to do so, and under no circumstances whatsoever were we to interact with humans."
Dean eyed Balthazar curiously. "Why are you here then?" he asked. "Somehow I doubt the big man gave you shore-leave to come down and spill all of his secrets."
"What can I say?" Balthazar replied, smirking. "I'm a rebel."
They once again lapsed into silence, as the situation they were currently in weighed heavily upon them.
How had things gone so far off the rails?
"This is all your fault you know?" Balthazar said casually.
"What?" Dean asked indignantly. "How the hell do you figure that?"
"Oh, please. This is all about you. Everything that he does always comes back to you."
"Man, I can't wait to hear this."
"Every time that Cas has rebelled against Heaven or gone against the grain it has been because of you. Either because you asked him to or it was some attempt by him to keep you safe." Balthazar went on, his voice rising. "And the one time that he asks you to return the favor, you hang him out to dry."
"What the hell was I supposed to do?" Dean asked loudly. "Work with Crowley? Help him pop Purgatory?"
"Maybe if you had stood beside Cas from the start, none of this would have happened."
Dean snorted. "Are you calling me 'black,' Pot? You're not really one to be giving me lessons on loyalty."
Balthazar took a breath and looked at the floor. "It's not the same," he said quietly.
"And how's that?" Dean asked. "Why is it any different with me?"
Balthazar just laughed, and looked back up to meet Dean's eyes. "Boy, if you have to ask me that then I'm afraid we're all in a lot of trouble."
Before Dean could ask what he meant, Balthazar continued.
"Castiel's in trouble," he said. "The power of all those souls is starting to take its toll on him. We don't have a whole lot of time before he goes completely nuclear."
"Wow, way to bury the lead," said Dean. "Okay, so how do we diffuse him?"
"I have no idea," Balthazar replied, "but I know someone who might."
"Who?" asked Dean.
"God," answered Balthazar. "The original."
"Great," Dean replied sarcastically. "Except no one has a clue where the bastard is or how to find him."
"Well, that may not be entirely true," said Balthazar. "See, I went to speak with Joshua. Now, while he said that he hasn't been able to reach God, he did point me in the direction of someone he thinks might be able to."
Dean sighed. "And who's that?"
Balthazar stared at him pointedly.
"What? Me?" he asked.
"Did you think I popped in for the stimulating conversation?" Dean stared at him blankly, mouth hanging open. "Exactly."
"You think that I have someway to phone God?"
"No, I don't," Balthazar replied, "but Joshua does. He says that you have something that we don't."
"What?" asked Dean.
"Not a clue," said Balthazar, getting to his feet. "But if you don't figure it out, and soon, Cassie's going to go Chernobyl, taking Heaven and a sizeable portion of the planet along with him."
Dean just continued to stare at the angel.
"So, good luck," said Balthazar, cheerily, and then he vanished, leaving Dean alone in the darkness.
After Balthazar left, Dean grabbed a beer and went outside to sit on the steps of the porch. He had been so content to just sit back and wait. Wait for Cas to make the first move. Wait for a sign that he should act. But after everything Balthazar had told him, he knew that he couldn't sit around any longer. He just wished he knew what his next play was.
"Hey," Sam said behind him, making him jump. Dean hadn't even heard him come out.
"Hey," Dean said, as Sam took a seat beside him, his own beer in hand. "What are you doing up?"
Sam shrugged. "Couldn't sleep."
"Are you okay?" Dean asked quickly.
The first days after Sam's wall had crashed had been terrifying for Dean. As soon as they'd made it back to Bobby's, Sam had locked himself in the upstairs bedroom, only coming out to use the restroom down the hall and then quickly returning. Dean had brought him meals three times a day which, thankfully, were always eaten. Sometimes he would find Sam sobbing into his pillow. Other times he would be staring blankly out the window. Dean had been a wreck.
Finally, a week after they'd gotten back, Sam came downstairs looking perfectly healthy and refusing to talk about it.
Sam smiled down at his beer. Y'know," he said, "you ask me that about every ten minutes."
"Yeah," said Dean, "and I'm gonna keep asking until I'm satisfied with the answer."
Sam just continued smiling as he looked over at his brother, before throwing a hand up in the air. "Of course I'm not okay," he said. "But I will be."
Dean nodded, and let the silence overtake them for a minute.
"Is it bad?" Dean finally asked.
Sam took a breath. "Not as bad as it was," he said. "That first week was the worst. I just had all these horrible memories flooding into my mind, and I didn't know what was real or what was…now. I was confused and sick and…" he trailed off, a faraway look in his eyes. He was silent for a moment, and then he smiled. "You know what the funny thing about it is?"
Dean looked at his brother. "There's a funny thing?"
Sam took a sip from his beer, and then continued to stare at the bottle. "The memories from Hell aren't even the worst part," he said. "I mean, they're bad, but it's like…like they happened to somebody else. I can remember it, but I can't really feel it." Sam laughed. "If that makes any sense."
Dean didn't say anything. He just continued to watch his brother.
"I don't know. Maybe Cas had something to do with it," Sam continued. "The memories of that year with Samuel are a lot worse."
"Sam," Dean said in warning.
"Dean, don't-"
"No," Dean interrupted. "Sam, you have no reason to feel guilty about any of that stuff."
Sam was quiet for a moment. "So you don't feel guilty about the stuff you did in the Pit?"
Dean looked away as he let that one sink in. He couldn't really argue with that.
Sam took a deep breath. "What are you doing up anyway?" he asked, bumping Dean's knee with his own.
Dean seized on the change of subject gratefully.
"Balthazar was here."
"What?" Sam said. "I thought he was dead."
"Yeah, well, he probably will be if Cas finds out about his little field trip."
Dean then told his brother everything that Balthazar had said about Castiel's new strategy in Heaven, how the souls were starting to wear him down, and how he thinks God is the only one who can save him.
"And Joshua seems to think that I'm the only one who can get in touch with him," Dean finished.
"Why's he think that?" asked Sam.
"I don't know," said Dean. "He says I've got something that none of them do, but I have no idea what he's talking about. Do you?"
Sam looked out across the yard for a minute, then back at his brother. "Yeah, actually," he said, standing up, "I think I do. I'll be right back."
He returned a few minutes later, holding something in his hand. Something Dean never expected to see again.
His necklace.
"I thought that thing was gone."
"Yeah, well…I thought you might want it back someday," Sam said, handing the amulet to his brother.
Dean looked at it skeptically. "You really think this is what Joshua was talking about?"
"Maybe," Sam said, shrugging.
"Cas spent the better part of a year trying to find God with this thing, and he got bupkiss."
"Maybe you're special," Sam said, smirking and causing his brother to snort derisively. "At the very least it's a starting point, which is something we didn't have before."
"I suppose," Dean conceded, still staring at the amulet.
"Well, I'll leave you to it then," said Sam, turning to go inside.
"You want me to try now?" Dean asked, turning to look at his brother.
"No time like the present," Sam said, opening the door and heading inside. "Wake me if God drops by," he called over his shoulder.
Dean just chuckled and shook his head. "Man, our lives are weird," he said to himself. He stared quietly out across the yard for a few minutes, finishing his beer.
"What the hell," he sighed, setting down his empty bottle and heading out into the salvage yard. He walked around until he found the place where, years ago, he had sworn an oath to Cas to serve and follow God.
Dean put the necklace over his head, and grasped the amulet tightly in his fist.
"Here goes nothin'."
He closed his eyes, bowed his head, and prayed.
"God," Dean began, feeling awkward. "Hi…uh…I know I haven't really talked to you all that much, and when I have I really haven't had anything too nice to say…but I really need your help now…please."
Dean cracked an eye open and looked around the empty yard.
"Y'know what? Screw this noise," he said, letting the amulet drop back to his chest. Dean took a deep breath, and started shouting.
"Alright, listen up you dick! You better get your ass down here now because you fucking owe me! Big time! Not just for the crazy, fucked-up hand that you dealt me, but for doing your job for you and saving the friggin' planet! And if you don't think you owe me anything, fine, but you sure as hell owe Cas! So get the fuck down here now you lazy, arrogant, self-righteous, son of a bitch!"
For a moment, the only sound in the yard was that of Dean's labored breathing.
And then…
"Hey Dean."
TBC