It kept repeating in my head. It sounded like a prayer. A prayer? Why was there a prayer repeating in my head!?
The question was agonizing and it seemed like the more I asked the louder the voice got. The same parts would play over and over before moving on to another scene.
It all started out like a weird dream. I was home from the hospital where my friend has been in a coma for the past three weeks. I remember sitting down at my dining room table and making myself a drink. I was ill at the time, my glands were swollen and I had a head cold and a chest cold. I was used to being sick though. It was rare for me not to be sick as a matter of fact. I sat there at my dining room table for hours and I must've fallen asleep 'cause the next thing I knew I was freezing. My surroundings had changed like in a dream. Everything was sort of out of focus except this man sitting on a stone bench, looking down at his hands. He wore a trench coat, black slacks, and a messed up blue tie over a white dress shirt. He sat there not moving. In fact, nothing moved for that moment. The breeze didn't move the branches of the trees. I was confused, so all I could think to do was stand in front of him. Could he not see me? Then, without warning, everything began to take motion. It was even colder with a breeze and snow everywhere. I was looking around me when he started talking.
"Y'know I've... been here for a very long time…" He said, looking up from his hands and off to a distance, "I remember many things."
As he spoke the scene changed. I wasn't with him anymore. I was by the ocean, storm clouds covering the sky and lightning flashing within.
"I remember being at a shoreline, watching a little gray fish heave itself up on the beach. And an older brother saying "Don't step on that fish Castiel. Big plans for that fish."
Again the scene changed to something else. My heart was beating fast. A desert. Hundreds of men all working.
"I remember the tower of Babel. All thirty-seven feet of it, which I suppose was impressive at the time. And when it fell, they howled "Divine Wrath," but come on. Dry dung can only be stacked so high."
The scene changed again. Two men fighting. I puzzled as to why everything but them was so out of focus. I couldn't even tell where I was now.
"I remember Cain and Abel. David and Goliath." The scene changed yet again to two different men fighting. I could make out that there was also fighting around them, but I couldn't see it. Then again the scene changed to a wall being torn down as the man said:
"Sodum and Gomorrah."
Then it changed again. The same man that was on the bench before was now standing in front of a house. He was looking straight up towards the heavens and a white light was shining down on him.
"And of course, I remember the most remarkable event."
More images passed by. Some I didn't understand at all.
"Remarkable, because it never came to pass." I began to see flashes of faces. People. "It was averted by two boys, an old drunk, and a fallen angel. The grand story. And we ripped up the ending. And the rules. And destiny. Leaving nothing but freedom, and choice. Which is all well, and good, except,"
And now there was a flash of white light. I saw that man again. On the same bench where I left him.
"But what if I've… made the wrong choice, how am I supposed to know…" The man seemed troubled, and I just stared at him. I just watched him. "I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me tell you my story." He began to look up "Let me tell you everything."
As he said that last bit, he looked directly at me, and then I woke up. I was back in my dining room, seated by the table.
I wasn't going anywhere anytime soon so, I just sat and thought about my weird dream. I was fascinated by how weird it was but there was no real reason for me to panic. It was the first time something like this had happened and the only real shocking thing about it was that I remembered all of it when I woke up. My mind ran through it all. Those faces… The two boys, an old drunk, and the fallen angel… The fallen angel, well he wore a trench coat just like the man on the bench and he was equally handsome. He had short cropped black hair and amazing, beautiful blue eyes. I knew I hadn't seen him before so it occurred to me that it really was just a dream. Nothing more, right?
As for the other faces, well, the first boy was pretty tall, he had stunning green eyes and short cropped dark blond hair. He was sort of a male model type, also very handsome. The other "boy" was really tall and had really shaggy brown hair and he's really handsome and… Alright, "really" seems to be the word to describe him.
"My sub-conscience has quite the taste in men," I told myself aloud, twirling my drink in my hand.
On the hand that the old drunk was on, well, that's exactly what he looked like. An old drunk with a beard and an old baseball cap, except unlike the other three, he was familiar somehow. Very familiar.
I picked myself up out of my chair and headed through the house into my room. When I opened the door the hinges creaked and I grimaced. I needed to fix that. I stole a glance at the calendar on the wall opposite my bed. It was May 6th. I went to the bathroom that was adjoining my bedroom and brushed my teeth and washed my face. I looked in the mirror and just took in a good long stare. I touched my neck where it was swollen by the glands and reached behind the bathroom mirror and grabbed a few painkillers. That should help the swelling go down, I thought.
With that, I headed back and sat on my bed. The digital clock on my bedside table seemed to yell at me. "8:22 PM", or in other words, bedtime. I lay down and covered myself with the blue blankets I'd had since I was a teenager. Call me sentimental but they're good blankets still. And they're blue. I smiled to myself at how ridiculous I could be when I joked around.
I fell asleep instantly. And a dream soon followed.
In the dream, I was in the backseat of a car. Nighttime rolled past out the windows as the car went. In the driver's seat was a familiar face. It was the first boy. The man from my vision earlier tonight. Am I asleep? The car's humming was almost soothing, but I was near panicking. I heard the wind as if a large pair of wings flapped. I looked in the direction that it came from. In the passenger seat that was empty not two seconds ago, sat the trench-coated man.
"Hello Dean," He said.
The man driving, who I assumed was Dean, looked at the trench-coated man and then back the other way. He looked irritated.
There was a beat, and then the trench-coated man said: "Are you alright?"
"Yeah, I'm, I'm fine how are you?" Dean replied.
"Just… Wanted to check in," The man in the trench coat nodded, though he didn't seem to express that much emotion.
There was another pause, and I felt an awkward tension.
"So any word on uh, satan junior being alive?" Dean asked.
"I'm… looking believe me. I just don't understand how Crowley could have tricked me." As he said this, he didn't once look at Dean.
"Well, he's a tricky son of a bitch that's how." Dean supported, "Doesn't matter. But if he is up and kicking, then what does matter, is finding him, ripping his head off and shoving it up his ass."
At that, the other man nodded. "What about you?" he asked, "Have you, found anything?"
With a small beat, Dean answered, "No nothing yet."
The trench-coated man looked back, almost directly at me.
"Where's Sam?"
"He's keeping busy. He's tracking a djinn in Omaha as we speak. I'm headed out there right now to, meet up with him."
"Well, I'd come if I could…"
"Yeah no, I uh I get it. No worries." Dean's gaze wandered, "But Cas you'll call right? If you get into real trouble."
There was a good long pause, and they looked at each other. Then the other man nodded and Dean nodded back.
There was that sound of the wind again, and the trench-coated man was gone. Dean looked around the car, and then let out a sigh. The scene turned to black.
Cas… that must be his name. The trench-coated man's name. And what about Crowley? A supposedly dead man I guess. What a weird dream. And I'm thinking during it too! This has never happened before. I wonder…
The dark faded into a white tiled room. The room seemed to have one entrance, and that was a pair of thick metal double doors. There were a few tables in the room, all covered in jars of red liquid and knives. And on one table laid a dead girl.
"Oh God," I covered my mouth at the sight.
The top of her skull was neatly sawed off so that her brain was exposed, and her stomach was wide open. There were sorts of equipment laying about that looked old, but recently used. White lights hung from the ceiling, the sort used in hospitals for surgery. Standing over the dead girl was a man I hadn't seen before. Not in a dream and not in real life. He was shorter and wore a bloody apron over a black suit. To the right of him, a distance away was a man chained and gagged. Through the double doors, the trench-coated man, Cas, walked in. He looked directly at the shorter man.
"Howdy partner," said the shorter man, looking towards Cas with a smug look.
"What have you found?" Cas asked, staying just in front of the doorway.
"I've found a lot of things. For example," he moved the dead girls head, "this brain, dead as a tinkipper, and yet," He shoved a hand in the dead girl's stomach and pulled out dozens of small marble looking things, "for some reason, she keeps laying eggs."
He shook the eggs off his hand and frowned.
Cas walked over to the opposite side of the dead girl.
"Watch this," said the other man, producing a knife with a heated tip. The man in chains whimpered as he did so, and the shorter man placed the knife on the brain of the dead girl and the man in chains writhed in pain. The shorter man and Cas both watched. While the shorter man looked indifferent, Cas's face twisted.
They're sick! I thought. Why was I dreaming this?
He removed the knife and shrugged, "Chocula here feels every tickle."
"What is that good for?" Questioned Cas.
"Apart from the obvious erotic value," he joked, "you got me."
"You said Eve could open the door to purgatory," Cas looked irritated at his non-serious manner.
"Correct," the other man smirked, "I did, and I'm confident that she could have." his smile faded, "IF SHE WAS STILL ALIVE! Single best chance to get over the rainbow and the Winchester's killed her!" he said through his teeth.
"It was unavoidable," Cas replied stepping away from the dead girl.
"You screwed up Cas," the shorter man pointed the knife at him, "you let the hounds mangle the pheasant, and now I am up to my elbows in it."
"What is your point?" Cas stepped in front of the shorter man.
"The point is," he was smiling sarcastically again, "you're distracted. And that makes me nervous."
"I am holding up, my end."
"Oh yes," he stepped closer and closer to Cas, "but is that all you're holding? See, the stench of that impala's all over your overcoat angel." he stepped away, "I thought we'd agreed, no more nights out with the boys."
Angel? Wow, I'd actually heard this guy be called an angel multiple times. Although that was fallen angel but same difference. So I'm dreaming about a handsome angel in a trench coat talking to a moody short guy. Lovely, I'm totally sane.
"I spoke with Dean. I needed to know what they know."
"About what? About me maybe? 'Cause I happen to have it on good authority that your two little pets are currently trying to hunt me down!" he raised his eyebrows, "Forgive me, but, I think we might have a little conflict of interest here."
While Cas just stood there, the other man took his knife and angrily stabbed the girl in the brain, causing the chained man to scream and writhe in agony.
"Crowley had a point, of course, my interest was conflicted. I still considered myself the Winchester's guardian. After all…"
The scene changed again. A field in which I saw Dean, and Cas who held a molotov cocktail, the old drunk, and the other man with the shaggy brown hair. Then there was another unfamiliar man.
"... They taught me how to stand up,"
The Cas standing in the field said: "Hey, assbutt." and threw the molotov cocktail at the unfamiliar man who erupted in flames and vanished in smoke.
I covered my eyes.
"What to stand for, and what generally happens to you when you do."
The man with shaggy hair snapped his fingers and Cas's body exploded. From my view though, it was slow motion. My heart leaped in fear and I tripped, falling on my ass.
The scene was frozen, with Cas's blood still mid-air from exploding. All I could do was stare.
"I was done. I was over. And then the most extraordinary thing happened."
The scene began to move again but instead of his blood going everywhere, it went back to form his body again.
"I was put back."
Dean's face was bloody and swollen, and Cas now stood next to where he knelt.
"And we had won. We stopped Armageddon."
Cas touched Dean's forehead and like magic, he was healed. Dean had a face again. And Cas went to the old drunk, who was on the ground with a broken neck and touched his forehead too. Just like that, he was alive. Healed.
"But at a terrible cost. And so I knew, what I had to do next."
Just like that, I woke up.
My eyes slowly opened and I let out a sigh. Daylight didn't stream through the windows. It was still nighttime. How long did I sleep for? I rolled over and glanced at the clock. "2:13 AM". Wow. four hours. That's no good. I sat up and reached for the glass of water I kept on the bedside table, then, taking a sip a thought crossed my mind. What if it's real? I wouldn't know where to start… I grimaced as I swallowed the water. It went down hard because of my throat. Ugh, being sick sucks.
"..I still considered myself the Winchesters guardian…" That floated through my mind and I focused on it.
"A guardian angel," I mused, I put my glass back down and reached under my bed for my laptop, repeating "Winchester… Winchester Winchester Win...Chester…"
I took a leap and googled the name and what popped up made me reconsider the if I was insane or not. I clicked through to an article that had a bunch of stuff on them, most of all that one "Dean Winchester" who looked exactly like the Dean in my dream was wanted after police found out that he didn't die in St. Louis, Missouri where he killed a woman. He was now also wanted for robbery.
"Charming guy…" I mumbled as I read on. Apparently not only was Dean Winchester wanted for all that, his brother, Sam Winchester was also wanted for being an accomplice. I stared at that picture too, because it looked exactly like the second boy in my dream, and the guy that exploded Cas. That means that tall dude and male model dude are brothers. But I've never ever seen or heard of them before so what am I doing dreaming about them?
"Sam and Dean Winchester," I said rereading, "Wait…" I scrolled down to see that apparently, they were dead. Killed in police custody in Monument, Colorado after a supposed gas leak in the station.
"But if they're dead…" I had too many questions.
I'd never heard of them before in my life. But if they averted a so-called "apocalypse" with that old drunk that I may know, then perhaps they have a connection and I can figure something out. Okay. So all of my dreams started with that trench coated man, Cas, and he's an acquaintance of the Winchester brother's who are close with the old drunk who I know somehow. So if I can find that old drunk and figure out how he's connected to the two brother's, maybe he knows how the angel trench coat dude knew them and maybe he knows why I'm seeing all this. Wait, but that's assuming that this is all not a dream. Am I crazy? I closed the laptop and laid back in frustration. As soon as my head hit the pillow, I wasn't in bed any longer. I was in the middle of a street, standing in front of a house. Under a lamppost that man, Sam Winchester was standing, also watching the house, and Cas was watching him… While I watched all of them. The lamppost flickered and went out overhead.
"Once again I went to harrow hell, to free Sam from Lucifer's cage. It was nearly impossible, but I was so full of confidence, of mission, I see now, that was arrogance, hubris. Because of course, I hadn't truly raised Sam, not all of him."
Sam began to walk away from the house, and right past Cas, who held a troubling look.
"Sometimes we're lucky enough to be given a warning. This should have been mine."
Then I found myself back in that… white tiled room with them. The same two men as last time. Cas in his trench coat, and the shorter man. I studied that man and saw something burning in his eyes that made me feel nauseous, so I looked back at the angel. The scene unfroze before me and the shorter man turned towards the angel as he pulled the knife out of the dead girl's brain.
"Please," He said, "I'm begging you Castiel, just kill the Winchesters."
Castiel. I'd heard that name before. When Cas was on the bench and was talking about the fish! Maybe that's his full name? Cas is probably just short for Castiel.
"No." The angel immediately replied.
"Fine. Then I'll do it myself." The short man countered.
"You kill them I'll just bring them back again." Cas retorted.
"No, you won't. Not where I'll put them. Trust me."
"I said. No." Castiel looked serious. It was obvious that he at least cared about the Winchesters. The shorter man was grimacing, almost as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing.
Castiel looked away from him and said: "Don't worry about them."
"Don't worry about- What like Lucifer didn't worry? Or Michael? Or Lillith? Or Alistair? Or Azazel didn't worry?!" the short man spat in reply, "Am I the only game piece on the board who DOESN'T underestimate those DENIM WRAPPED NIGHTMARES!?"
There was a pause. Nothing happened. The two men just stared at each other, both letting that settle.
"Just find purgatory." Castiel finally said, "If you don't we will both die, again, and again until the end of time." Slowly he turned away from the shorter man. Then walking away he said, "The Winchester's won't get to you."
The shorter man was angry and yelled after the angel: "Let 'em get to me! I'll tear their freaking hearts out!"
Then flashed a worn sign that read: "Singer Auto. Self Serve Salvage Yard."
And then I woke up again. I turned to look at the clock. "2:58 AM". That was… so short. Alright, so these scenes take a minute to play out. I wanted to know what it all meant. Well, what can I say, regardless of how much pain I was in and how annoying and frustrating it was, I liked having something to do while I was sick. Winchester... there was that name again. So maybe they weren't dead? Maybe they set that fire to make it look like they were dead… Who were these guys… I honestly wasn't sure I wanted to know.
Then there was the sign. Singer Auto. I knew that sign, I'd seen it before. But where? I tried to remember and thought of the craziest thing. The old drunk wasn't just any drunk to me. He was our town drunk. Singer Auto… Bobby Singer! I knew I recognized him!
It was three AM but I still wanted to know if I was crazy or not. With that thought in mind, I put on my shoes, got in my car, and started driving. I gripped the steering wheel and my heart began to beat just a bit faster. Part of me wanted it to be real just because my life was so boring, but the sensible part of me knew that if it was real, everything would change and who knows if that's a good thing. Out the windows, the night rolled past and everything felt surreal. Everything was normal otherwise, except a moment later a light so bright appeared in front of my car and I hit the brakes while averting my eyes. The light seemed to surround me, and then suddenly it was extinguished.
"What the hell?" I stood up and looked around me. I was back in my bedroom, my shoes by the door as if I'd never touched them. I looked around and then went to the window. There was my car, right where it should be. Was I unable to leave my own house? Just to test it, I ran and shut and locked the front door behind me before running to a neighbor, but before I could knock, I was back in my room. I was trapped and I knew it. Damn it. I sat down on my bed in frustration. I had a headache like nothing I'd felt before so I went to the bathroom and from behind the mirror I grabbed more painkillers. This can't be happening… I thought over and over. But it was happening and I was helpless. The voices and visions in my head were all connected and there was so much of it. They all started with that angel, Castiel, so maybe if I can find him, I can stop it. This time though I don't think Google will be much help. I walked slowly and dishearted to my bed and lay down. I covered myself with my blanket and cleared my mind. There has to be more to the story, so why not find it out. I closed my eyes and immediately I was somewhere else.
It was a room that was quite literally stacked to the ceiling with books. Besides that, it was cluttered to the brim with other objects. I was in Bobby singer's house. Sam Winchester and Bobby singer stood over a man they had chained to a chair, who I guess they were questioning. From the room behind them that looked like the kitchen, Dean motioned for them to come. Sam looked at Bobby and went into the other room with Dean, but Bobby stayed a moment, I couldn't make out what he was saying, but before he left the room, he stabbed the chained man in the leg with a knife. I jumped and covered my mouth with both hands. The wound on the man let out yellow light, and it sparked. That's not normal, I thought.
"So what'd you tell him?" Sam questioned Dean.
Dean had his arms crossed.
"Nothing. Just relax," he told his brother.
Bobby entered and stood right next to the two.
"What's the hubbub?" he asked them.
"Saw Cas," Dean looked at Bobby, "He popped in on me about two hours back."
"What'd you tell him?" Bobby asked immediately.
"Nothing alright? Told him we were on some crap monster hunt. He doesn't know that we're getting close to Crowley." Dean shook his head "You know, he's our friend...And we are lying to him through our teeth."
"Dean-" Sam tried.
"So he burned the wrong bones," Dean interrupted, "So Crowley tricked him."
"He's an angel," Bobby said.
"He is the Balki Bartokomous of Heaven! He can make a mistake!" Dean defended.
"Nobody's saying nothing yet," Bobby told him.
"You think that Cas is in with Crowley? Crowley?" to Dean it was outrageous.
"Look," Bobby lowered his voice, "I'm just saying, I don't know. Now, look, I hate myself for even thinking it. But I don't know."
"Look, Dean," Sam pitched in, "He's our friend too. And I'd die for him, I would, but, look… I'm praying we're wrong here."
"But if we ain't...If there's a snowball of a snowball's chance here...that means we're dealing with a Superman who's gone dark side. Which means we've got to be cautious, we got to be smart, and maybe stock up on some Kryptonite." Bobby told Dean.
Dean lowered his head, then looked at Sam.
"Which makes you Lois Lane," he told his brother.
"Look, one problem at a time. We gotta find Crowley now before that damn fool cracks open purgatory." I heard that before I could even see anything. I knew that name though. Crowley. I'd heard it before when Castiel visited the first boy, Dean.
Bobby went back to the room with the man he had chained to a chair.
"So, they already suspected." I heard the voice of the angel say.
"Where's Crowley?" Bobby asked the man.
"Up yours," he replied.
Bobby twisted the knife in his leg, and the guy screamed.
"And the worst part was… Dean. Trying so hard to be loyal. With every instinct telling him otherwise." Said Castiel's voice.
"I don't know where Crowley is!" exclaimed the man.
"You sure about that? Because we can twist again all the way to next summer." Bobby threatened.
They were torturing the guy for information on Crowley…
"N-NO!" Bobby twisted a bit and he screamed again and I grimaced. "I never even met him! I… I don't deal with Crowley direct." The guy was breathing really hard.
"Well, who do ya deal with?" Bobby questioned.
"The Dispatcher." he replied still breathing hard, "A demon, named Ellsworth."
"If there was a demon counterpart to Bobby Singer, Ellsworth would be it." Said Castiel, and suddenly I was in a completely different scene.
I was clearly in an old house. The room I was in had the walls covered in maps and papers of other sorts. Every horizontal surface was covered with books and other objects and in the center of it all was a man in a baseball cap and a vest. He looked a lot like Bobby Singer from what I'd seen of him, but his eyes were pure black. It was actually really creepy. The man was seated at a table surrounded by multiple phones, books, and bowls of blood. Ew. After I took it all in, the scene began to play out before me.
The bowls of blood started to bubble and the man seemed to talk into them.
"Oh, no, no listen. I don't care! I want you to get down to New Mexico and bag that Windigo." He said, talking into the bowl farthest to his right. "Ah, hell hang on." He moved to talk into a different bowl.
"What? Because the boss says we're done with 'em." One of the phones rang and he looked away from the bowls to pick it up. He blinked and his eyes turned to a regular looking humans. They were blue.
"FBI, Thomas speaking," He answered, "Absolutely I sent them, thank you for calling to check. You have a nice day now. Bye-bye."
He hurriedly hung up the phone. As he had been speaking two men dragged something that looked like a person who was in a bag, with the only thing showing his feet, and dumped it in front of the demons desk. Then began to walk out.
"Hey hey hey, no- Not in here you freaking yeti! Outback!"
The two men didn't look happy but turned back and looked to the body. Everyone in the room seemed exasperated. The head demon because his lackeys were idiots and the lackeys because it was extra work.
"These demons would lead the Winchesters to Crowley," I heard Castiel's voice "and Crowley would tear their hearts out."
Out of nowhere Castiel appeared and walked in through the front door. He grabbed both lackeys by the necks and pushed them on their backs to the ground. Then there was a light that leaked out of their eyes and mouths for a few seconds before it was distinguished quickly and Castiel looked directly at Ellsworth who said:
"Oh hell!" He looked at the ceiling and opened his mouth and a black smoke began to escape in a funnel while Ellsworth let out a muffled scream. Before much of the smoke could escape the man, Castiel seemed to grab the smoke from the top and force it back into the man, who looked horrified. Castiel's hand covered Ellsworth's mouth as the same light protruded from Ellsworth's eyes. It was a funny thing but I could have sworn that one moment Ellsworth had on his baseball hat, but when the light leaked from his eyes it was gone from his head. Huh. After doing that to Ellsworth, Castiel turned towards the door and the bodies he left and let out a sigh while wiping his hand on his tan trench coat.
"I had no choice." His gaze wandered and he looked almost defeated, "I did it to protect the boys. Or to protect myself… I don't know anymore."
With that, I saw black.
I thought about the scene I'd just taken in. Wow, when Castiel was talking, his lips weren't moving. In fact, the only time his lips moved when he talked was when he was talking directly to someone else, like in the car with Dean or those two times in the tiled room with the shorter man. The shorter man… He must be Crowley I realized. Crowley, a demon…
Again without seeing anything, I heard a voice. Castiel's voice. So I just listened.
"Hiding. Lying. Sweeping away evidence. And my motives used to be so pure… After supposedly saving Sam I finally returned to heaven. Of course, there isn't one heaven. Each soul generates its own paradise. I favor the eternal Tuesday afternoon of an autistic man who drowned in a bathtub in 1953."
The darkness faded and I was standing in a green place. Somewhere that looked like a rich person's backyard. The tree's and hedges perfectly trimmed and flowers bloomed where they needed, and the grass was a perfect green. A man was flying a kite a distance away. Opposite that man were many people, standing scattered across the grass. In the middle of all this, Castiel stood between both parties, looking almost peaceful.
"You're alive." Said a blond woman.
"Yes," Castiel replied smiling.
"Castiel we saw Lucifer destroy you." The woman said.
"Well, I came back." He said.
I thought he sounded full of himself.
"But, Lucifer, Michael." She asked perplexed.
Castiel took a few steps closer to the woman and shook his head.
"They're gone."
"It was God wasn't it?" Her voice sounded full of hope. And the other people around gathered a little closer to the pair.
"No. It was the Winchester's." His voice did sound soft "They brought down the apocalypse."
"But you beat the archangels. Castiel, God brought you back. He chose you, Cas. To lead us." She sounded so… Sure.
But Castiel immediately replied: "No." He shook his head "No one leads us anymore. We're all free to make our own choices and to choose our own fates."
He spoke to all of them gathered, not just to the woman.
There was a slight beat.
"What does God want?" She sounded lost now.
"God wants you to have freedom." He had a soft and sincere smile on his lips.
Again there was a beat.
The woman shook her head in confusion.
"But what does he want us to do with it?"
Castiel didn't reply. He just stood with his eyes averted.
"If I knew then what I knew now, I might've said, "It's simple, freedom is a length of rope. God wants you to hang yourself with it."
There was a white flash and the world turned dark again as far as I could see.
"Those first weeks back in heaven were surprisingly difficult. Explaining freedom to angels is kind of like teaching poetry to fish. And then there was Raphael."
"You came." Said an unfamiliar voice I assumed was Raphael. "I appreciate the courage that takes."
There was a pause.
"Who's heaven is this?" Castiel's voice asked him.
"Ken Lays. I'm borrowing it." Replied Raphael's voice.
Castiel sighed, "I still question his admittance here.
"He's devout," Raphael said, "Trumps everything."
Again there was a small beat.
"What do you want?" Asked a perplexed Castiel.
"Tomorrow, I've called for a full assembly of the holy host. You'll kneel before me, and pledge allegiance to the flag. Alright?"
"And what flag is that?"
"Me Castiel. Your allegiance to me." Raphael's tone implied that should have been obvious.
"Are you joking?"
"Do I look like I'm joking?"
"You never look like you're joking."
"You rebelled. Against God, Heaven, and me. Now you will atone. We'll start by freeing Lucifer and Michael from their cage, and then we'll get our show back on the road."
That sank in.
"Raphael. No! The apocalypse doesn't have to be fought." Castiel's voice was firm.
"Of course it does. It's God's will."
"How can you say that!?"
"Cause it's what I want."
There was a beat.
"Well, the other angels won't let you."
"Are you sure? You know better than anyone Castiel, they're soldiers. They weren't built for freedom, they were built to follow."
The two were silent for a few seconds.
"Then I won't let you," Castiel said in a serious tone.
"Really?" Raphael questioned. "You?" His voice let off a tone of anger.
With that, there was a white light and I was back in the garden. Castiel was laying on the grass with a blood stain under his nose. His blue eyes opened and he coughed out blood. He turned himself onto his side and placed on hand on the grass so that he was facing the ground.
Castiel! I was actually concerned for him. I felt… Close to him after knowing so much about him.
The next time he coughed more blood came out and spewed onto the ground.
I didn't know what I was but I couldn't be seen, and I couldn't touch anything. Regardless of that I ran and kneeled by his side, placing a hand on his back. I actually touched him and immediately retracted my hand in surprise. He coughed again, this time without blood, and he seemed to look directly at me, but no more than two seconds later his gaze turned away towards Raphael who was standing over him. I heard his voice, but again his lips didn't move.
"I'm not ashamed to say that my big brother knocked me into next week," His voice said.
"Tomorrow you kneel Castiel," Raphael said, "Or you, and anyone with you dies."
On the ground next to where I was kneeling Castiel was obviously in pain and struggling. He didn't reply to Raphael though, he only looked at him. Castiel's chin was stained crimson in the places his blood dripped when he coughed.
There was another sudden flash of light and I was no longer in the garden.
I was back in that house where Castiel killed those demons. Or I guess it's smiting. He is an angel. And I was starting to believe everything more and more as I watched.
Dean walked past right in front of me and I jumped back, Castiel seemed to be watching too.
Sam entered the room. He had a shotgun leaned on his shoulder.
"Hey. 'Place is clean." Sam said with a shrug.
Bobby Singer also entered the room, shaking his head.
"Yeah but it's… It's like Mr. Clean, clean. Y'know," Bobby looked at both of them, "It's kinda OCD for your average demon."
"Yeah," Sam replied, "So what now?"
"We call Cas," Dean said, not looking at either Sam or Bobby.
"What?" Sam asked immediately.
Dean looked at them.
"This is usually the point where we would call Cas. For help." He told them.
Sam and Bobby sighed.
"We talked about this," Bobby reminded Dean.
"Yeah, Dean," Sam said to back him up.
"No. You talked. I listened." While Dean spoke with the two his eyes wouldn't stay in one place. "This is Cas, guys." now he looked them both in the eyes, "I mean when there was no one and we were stuck, and I mean really stuck, he broke ranks. He has gone to the max, cut and bleeding for us, so many freaking times. This is Cas! Don't we owe him the benefit of the doubt?! At least?"
Bobby and Sam shuffled and didn't reply for a moment. Then Sam sighed.
"Castiel," Sam said with his eyes shut, "This is really important, okay. Um, we really need to talk to you." Sam opened one eye, looking for Castiel to be there. Then he looked around.
"Castiel," Dean shut his eyes, "Come on in." He hesitated but opened his eyes to look for Castiel. The three all gazed around the room with slight confusion.
I realized that I could only see Castiel, they couldn't see me or him, and I'm pretty sure Castiel couldn't see me.
Castiel just stood there, watching. Then without his lips moving, I heard: "But I didn't go to them. 'Cause I knew they would have questions I couldn't answer. Because I was afraid."
"Cas is busy," Dean finally said.
"That's alright. We are too." Sam patted Dean on the shoulder, "C'mon." And then began to walk out of the room.
"Back to square one," Bobby said with a sigh.
"Great well what do we do now?" Dean stopped following his brother.
"Well we caught one hunter demon before, we can do it again," Bobby said turning to face them.
Sam turned around.
"Dean!" Out of nowhere, a man tackled Dean to the ground and punched him in the face. That scared me bad and I let out a scream, which hurt my throat.
Another one attacked Sam by flipping him over onto a table, which broke under the force. A third man threw Bobby through a glass door.
The man on top of Dean smiled, "Crowley says hi."
The demons were winning the fight.
Dean's mouth was filled with blood, Sam could barely fight back, and Bobby hadn't even gotten up yet.
"Crowley sent his very best." Castiel's voice said, "I was caught as much by surprise as the rest of them. And it left me with yet another choice. I could reveal myself and fight the demons, of course, Crowley wouldn't like it but on the other hand, they were my friends."
Castiel appeared and first smote the demon attacking Dean. He moved very quickly and killed the one after Bobby, and then the one after Sam. Castiel's face was as serious as ever.
"For a brief moment, I was me again." Came Castiel's voice.
All three of the men groaned and picked themselves up, staring at Castiel in surprise.
"It is good to see you, Cas," Dean said to him.
"You alright?" Castiel asked looking them up and down.
"Yeah," Sam said, "Perfect timing, Cas."
"Yes. I'm glad I found you. I come with news," Castiel regarded all of them.
"Yeah what?" Asked Dean.
"I firmly believe… Crowley is alive." Castiel's gaze wandered a bit but tended to stay on Dean.
Dean let out a slight laugh-sigh and said: "Yeah ya think Kojack."
There was a pause and Dean had a smug smile and Castiel looked down.
"Well, Bobby what do you think about Cas saving our asses?" Dean looked at Bobby, "Again."
Bobby looked at Castiel, "I think we owe you an apology."
"Why?" Castiel's face showed confusion.
"We've been hunting Crowley this whole time," Sam stepped in, "And keeping it from you."
Castiel's gaze went from Bobby to Sam and then back to Bobby.
"We thought you were working with him," Bobby confirmed.
"You thought what?" Castiel questioned.
"I know," Dean pitched in, "It's crazy right?"
"It's just that… You torched the wrong bones, w-" Bobby put his hand up in defeat, "I-It doesn't matter. We-we were wrong."
"Y'know," Castiel stepped closer to Bobby, "You could've just asked me."
Dean nodded, "And we should have. We never should have doubted you. Just hope you can forgive us."
The three stared at Castiel, and his eyes wandered again.
"Wonders never cease." Castiel's lips didn't move, "They trusted me again. But it was just another lie."
"It's forgotten," Castiel told them.
"Thanks," Dean said nodding.
"Yeah," Sam said too, "Thanks, Cas."
Bobby just nodded.
"It is a little absurd though," Castiel said.
"I know," Bobby gazed away, "I know."
"Superman going to the dark side," Castiel smirked a little. He didn't seem to notice everyone else's faces change. Their faces fell with realization. "I'm still just Castiel."
Dean gave an uneasy smile and nodded, "I guess we can put away the kryptonite right?"
"Exactly," Castiel easily smiled back at Dean.
"Of course, I didn't realize it at the time," Castiel's voice said, "but it was all over. Right then. Just like that."
I saw the look Dean gave Castiel when he wasn't looking, Dean knew, and my guess was that Sam and Bobby did too.
I jumped. I was suddenly back in that white tiled bloody room and Castiel had thrown the large double doors open, which is what scared me.
"You sent demons after them?!" Castiel demanded.
Crowley walked toward him, "You kill my hunters, why can't I kill yours?"
"They are my friends." Castiel got right close to Crowley, threateningly.
"You can't have friends," Crowley looked directly in Castiel's eyes, "Not anymore. I mean my God you're losing it."
"I'm fine."
"Yeah, you're the very picture of mental health. Come on, you don't think I know what this is all about?" Castiel was taller, but Crowley stood with confidence.
"Enlighten me."
"The big lie. The Winchester's still buy it. The good Cas. The righteous Cas. As long as they still believe it, you get to believe it. Well, I got news for you, kitten. A whore is a whore is a whore-"
Castiel grabbed Crowley by the jacket collar and shoved him against the wall, cracking the tiles behind Crowley.
"I'm only going to say this once," Castiel still held his collar, "If you touch a hair on their heads, I will tear it all down. Our arrangement. Everything. I'm still an angel. And I will bury you."
Crowley said nothing and Castiel flew away leaving him shocked. Crowley turned around and looked at the wall he'd been smashed into.
"I asked myself," Came Castiel's voice, "What was I doing with this vermin?"
Crowley turned around and straightened his clothes.
"This is not how synergy works!" He called out to nothing.
"As if I didn't already know the answer." Castiel's voice continued.
Another flash of white light took me back to kneeling on the grass next to Castiel, with Raphael standing over him. "Raphael was stronger than me." As Raphael walked away Castiel lay down on his side on the grass, "And I wouldn't survive in a straight fight. So I went to an old friend for help."
I was suddenly somewhere else again. A yard. It was a simple yard, and Dean was raking up leaves. Castiel stood behind him watching.
"But watching him, I stopped. Everything he sacrificed, and I was about to ask him for more."
Behind Castiel, Crowley appeared.
"Ah, Castiel. Angel of Thursday?" Crowley said, "Just not your day is it?"
Castiel looked back from Dean to Crowley, "What are you doing here?"
"I want to help you help me help ourselves," Crowley replied stepping towards Castiel.
"Speak plain," Castiel said.
"I want to discuss a simple business transaction, that's all," Crowley's hands were in his coat pocket.
"You want to make a deal?" Castiel seemed taken off guard, "With me?"
Crowley stayed looking confident.
"I'm an angel, you ass. I don't have a soul to sell." Castiel told him.
"But that's it isn't it. It's all of it," Crowley stepped even closer, "It's the souls. It all comes down to the souls, in the end, doesn't it."
"What in the hell are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about Raphael's head on a pike. I'm talking about happy endings for all of us. C'mon," Crowley motioned to walk with him, "Just a chat.
"I have no interest in talking with you."
"Why not? I'm very interesting."
Castiel remained, and stayed silent.
"C'mon, hear me out," Crowley said, "Five minutes. No obligations. I promise."
Castiel looked back at Dean.
"I'll make it worth your while." Crowley started walking.
"I was no fool," Came Castiel's voice, without him saying anything, "I knew what Crowley was and what he did. But I was smarter than him. Stronger. I see now that I was prideful. And in all likelihood, I was a fool."
I followed them, but the world around me changed in a flash of light again.
The room I was in was like a long hallway, and as far as I could see people were waiting in a single file line. On the wall, there was a red number dispenser, like in waiting rooms, and a man came in and took a number, then got in line. Hanging from the ceiling, a sign said "NEXT IN LINE" and the number read "6611527124". Wow. That's a lot of people waiting. Crowley and Castiel came through the door.
"Where are we?" Castiel asked.
"You don't recognize it, do you? It's Hades. New and improved. I did it myself." Crowley looked happy with himself.
"This is hell?"
"Yeah. See 'problem with the old place was most of the inmates were masochists already, a lot of "thank you, sir. Can I have another hot spike up the jacksie?" But just look at them."
The number on the ceiling changed and over a loudspeaker, a voice said "NEXT".
"No one likes waiting in line," Crowley smirked.
"What happens when they reach the front?" Castiel asked staring down the endless line.
"Nothing. They go right back to the end again." Crowley looked at Castiel, "That's efficiency."
Castiel rolled his eyes.
"You have four minutes left," he said walking away.
"What are you planning to do about Raphael?" Crowley asked following him.
I walked behind the both of them.
"What can I do besides submit or die?"
"Submit or die? What are you French? How about resist?" Crowley suggested.
"I'm not strong enough and you know it."
"Ah, not on your own, you're not. But you're not on your own, are you? There's a lot of angels swooning over you. "God's favorite." Buddy boy, you've got what they call sex appeal." Crowley told him.
"Thank you. Get to the point." Castiel didn't look at Crowley once as they walked.
"Angels need leaders, so be one. Gather your army and kick the candy out of each and every angel that shows up for Raphael." Crowley purposed.
Castiel turned around to face Crowley.
"Are you proposing that I start a civil war in heaven?" Castiel demanded.
"Ding! Ding! Ding! Tell him what he's won, Vanna."
"You're asking me to be the next Lucifer." Castiel didn't look amused.
"Please. Lucifer was a petulant child with daddy issues. Cas, you love God. God loves you. He brought you back. Did it occur to you that maybe he did this so you could be the new sheriff upstairs?" Crowley was pitching exactly what Castiel needed to hear, I realized.
Castiel paused a moment.
"This is ridiculous. I mean, the amount of power that it would take to mount a war…" he said finally.
"More than either of us have ever seen, yeah. But what if I said I knew how to go nuclear?"
Castiel hesitated. "What do you mean?"
"Purgatory, my fine feathered friend. Purgatory." Crowley continued walking and turned a corner with Castiel following him, 'Just think about it. An untapped oil well of every fanged, clawed soul. I mean, what's that over the years? 30 million? 40 million? Just sitting there, plump and rich for the taking."
Castiel saw the flaw with this.
"And how would you find it when no one ever has?"
"We'll need expert help."
'From whom?" Castiel asked.
"From experts, of course. I know of two eerily suited 'Teen Beat' models with time on their hands."
They stopped little ways down the hallway, next to a picture that hung on the wall.
"No. Not Dean. He's retired, and he's to stay that way." Castiel insisted.
"Fine. Then I know of a certain big, bald patriarch I can take off the bench. The point is...They can get us to the monsters. The monsters can get us to Purgatory. I know it."
Castiel noticed the picture on the wall, which was of Crowley in a Nazi uniform, and frowned, then looked back at Crowley.
"And what's your price in all of this?"
"Just half," Crowley said.
"Half?"
"My position isn't all that stable, ducky. Those souls would help, just like they'd help you. Besides, wouldn't you rather have me in charge down here? The devil you know…"
Castiel turned away from Crowley.
"This is pointless. Your plan would take months, and I need help now."
"Granted. Yes. But just to show you how serious I am about this scheme… How about I float you a little loan? Say, fifty large? Fifty thousand souls from the pit. You can take them up to heaven. Make quite a showing. It's either this or the Apocalypse all over again. Everything you've worked for - everything that Sam and Dean have worked for - gone. You can save us, Castiel. God chose you to save us. And I think, deep down, you know that.
Castiel looked back at Crowley, considering.
"I wish I could say I was clean of pride at that moment… Or the next."
The scene changed to Castiel confronting Raphael. It all happened so fast, as there was a flash of light that blinded me.
"There will be no Apocalypse. And let it be known, you're either with Raphael or you're with me."
I could open my eyes long enough to see Castiel walk out of the room.
"And so went the long road of good intentions...The road that brought me here."
And again I was in that house where Castiel smote the demons, and basically told Dean that he was working with Crowley.
I took a seat on the ground and watched.
Bobby poured whiskey, Sam held a book, and Dean looked betrayed.
"Castiel," Dean prayed, "Uh, we need you for a little pow-wow down here so, come on down."
There was a sound of the wind, and just like in the Impala with Dean earlier, Castiel appeared.
"Hello," Castel said upon entering.
Everyone turned to look at him.
"Oh, Johnny on the spot," Bobby joked.
"You're still here," Castiel said, referring to the house.
"Yeah, we had to bury the bodies," Sam told him.
"And we found a little whiskey," Dean said raising his glass, "Thanks for coming."
"How can I help?" Castiel asked.
"Oh, look. We, um, we have a new plan," Sam pitched in, "We think we've finally figured out a way to track down Crowley."
Bobby began to stand up, as Castiel walked closer to the three.
"What is it?" Castiel asked.
"It's you," Bobby said, lighting a match and throwing on the floor. A ring of fire appeared around Castiel, and the angel looked around him, fear clear on his face along with confusion.
"What are you doing?" Castiel asked, distraught.
The fire must be some way of trapping an angel, I realized.
Dean stood up, "We gotta talk."
"About what? Let me go!" Castiel demanded.
"About Superman. And kryptonite."
A wave of realization seemed to wash over Castiel as Dean said that.
"How'd you know what I said?" Bobby asked.
"How long you been watching us?" Sam questioned.
"You know who spies on people Cas? Spies!" Dean told him
"Okay just, wait! I don't even know what you mean," Castiel insisted.
"What about this demon craphole?" Sam questioned again, "How is it so, uh, "next to godliness" clean in here?"
"And how exactly did Crowley trick you with the wrong bones?" asked Bobby.
"It's hard to understand," Castiel struggled with his words, "It's hard to explain. Just let me go. Let me out and I can-"
"You got to look at me, man. You got to level with me and tell me what's going on," Dean pleaded, "Look me in the eye and tell me you're not working with Crowley!" Castiel looked at Dean, but then turned away, "Son of a bitch."
Dean looked down at the floor.
"Let me explain," Castiel said, now pleading too.
"You're in it with him? You and Crowley have been going after Purgatory together? You have, huh? This whole time." Dean was obviously hurt, and Castiel would barely look at him.
"I did it to protect you. I did it to protect all of you!" Castiel looked around at all of them.
"Protect us how?" Sam demanded, "By opening a hole into monsterland?"
"He's right, Cas," Bobby supported, "One drop got through, and it was Eve. And you want to break down the entire dam?"
"To get the souls," Castiel looked at Bobby, "I can stop Raphael. Please, you have to trust me."
"Trust you?! How in the hell are we supposed to trust you now?" Sam asked him.
"I'm still me," Castiel argued, "I'm still your friend. Sam...I'm the one who raised you from Perdition."
Everyone paused.
"What? Well, no offense...But you did a pretty piss-poor job of it. Wait. Did you bring me back soulless...On purpose?" Sam demanded
"How could you think that?" Castiel seemed hurt by the question.
"Well, I'm thinking a lot of things right now, Cas," Sam said back.
"Listen. Raphael will kill us all. He'll turn the world into a graveyard. I had no choice." Castiel repeated.
"No," Dean shook his head, "you had a choice. You just made the wrong one."
"You don't understand," Castiel insisted, "It's complicated."
"No, actually, it's not, and you know that. Why else would you keep this whole thing a secret, huh, unless you knew that it was wrong? When crap like this comes around, we deal with it... Like we always have. What we don't do is we don't go out and make another deal with the Devil!" Dean was hurt and concerned.
I knew that but all I saw was a man who made a wrong decision, and now he's losing his friends.
"It sounds so simple when you say it like that. Where were you when I needed to hear it?" Castiel looked right at Dean.
"I was there. Where were you?" Dean asked, "You should've come to us for help, Cas."
Dean shook his head and looked at the floor again.
"Maybe," Castiel finally replied.
From all around the house, I hear a loud wind approach and looking out the window, funnels of black smoke approached the house.
"It's too late now," Castiel told them, "I can't turn back now. I can't."
"It's not too late," Dean insisted, "Damn it, Cas! We can fix this!"
"Dean, it's not broken!" the smoke got closer and closer and the four looked around them, "Run. You have to run now! Run!"
Reluctantly, Sam, Bobby, and Dean all went to the door and ran out, though Dean hesitated and looked back at Castiel one time.
I stood up and looked out the window. The black smoke looked exactly like that which tried to escape Ellsworth before Castiel smote him.
The door began to rattle, and Castiel looked right at it. I just stayed by my window and watched. Then the door opened, and in walked Crowley.
"My, my. Playing with fire again?" He said to Castiel, snapping his fingers. As soon as he did so the ring of fire around Castiel was extinguished and Castiel walked towards Crowley.
"If you touch the Winchesters-" Castiel was cut off because as he walked towards Crowley, he disappeared and reappeared behind Castiel a good distance away.
"Please. 'heard you the first time," Crowley told him, "I promise, nary a hair on their artfully tousled heads. Besides, I think they've proven my point for me. It's always your friends, isn't it, in the end? We try to change. We try to improve ourselves. It's always our friends who got to claw into our sides and hold us back. But you know what I see here? The new God, and the new Devil working together."
"Enough," Castiel stepped towards Crowley, "You stop talking, and get out of my sight.
"Well…" Crowley swallowed, "Glad I came. You're welcome, by the way."
Crowley began to walk towards the door, before turning back.
"You know the difference between you and me?" Crowley asked before leaving, "I know what I am. What are you, Castiel? What exactly are you willing to do?"
Castiel cast his eyes toward the ground. I felt horrible for him. He'd gone through so much, and now he's dealing with asses. I walked over to him, and I put a hand on his shoulder, then like the flapping of large wings, he carried me back to Bobby's house.
Dean was asleep on the couch.
He slowly woke up, opening his eyes and glancing at us. I didn't think either Castiel or Dean could see me though.
"Hello, Dean," Castiel said.
Dean sat up, "How'd you get in here?" he demanded.
"The angel-proofing Bobby put up on the house, he got a few things wrong," Castiel told him.
"Well, it's too bad we got to angel-proof in the first place, isn't it?" Dean stood up, "Why are you here?" he asked.
"I want you to understand," Castiel said, stepping closer.
"Oh, believe me, I get it. Blah, blah, Raphael, right?"
"I'm doing this for you, Dean. I'm doing this because of you."
"Because of me. Yeah. You got to be kidding me." Dean rubbed his eyes, irritated.
"You're the one who taught me that freedom and free will-"
"You are a freakin' child, you know that?" Dean interrupted, "Just because you can do what you want doesn't mean that you get to do whatever you want!"
"I know what I'm doing, Dean." Castiel insisted.
"I'm not gonna logic you, okay? I'm saying don't. Just 'cause. I'm asking you not to. That's it."
"I don't understand-"
"Look, next to Sam, you and Bobby are the closest things I have to family, that you are like a brother to me. So, if I'm asking you not to do something… You got to trust me, man." Dean pleaded.
"Or what?" Castiel asked.
"Why does there have to be an "or what", seriously?" I mumbled to myself.
"Or I'll have to do what I have to do to stop you."
"You can't, Dean. You're just a man. I'm an angel."
"I don't know. I've taken some pretty big fish." Dean assured him.
"I'm sorry, Dean."
Dean nodded, "Well, I'm sorry, too, then."
Castiel was gone immediately after Dean let out that last word.
Another flash of white light took me back to standing in the park. Standing in front of Castiel who was sitting on the bench.
"So, that's everything. I believe it's what you would call a… Tragedy from the human perspective. But maybe the human perspective is… Limited, I don't know. That's why I'm asking you, Father. One last time. Am I doing the right thing? Am I on the right path? You have to tell me. You have to give me… A sign. Give me a sign. Because if you don't...I'm gonna just- I'm gonna do whatever I... Whatever I must." Castiel looked to the Heavens, but it was clear that no matter how much he pleaded, the sign he asked for wasn't going to come. Then his head fell, and he looked defeated. I couldn't help it. I stepped closer and put my hand on his.
"Castiel? Castiel I don't know if it's possible that you hear me but… But I'm sorry for everything you went through. Dean was right. It is wrong." I didn't know what else to say. Working with a demon, trying to open a pit to monsterland… It was all so wrong. And I was no longer sure if it was just a dream.
Castiel looked at me and then down at my hand on his, then back at me.
"Who-" he stammered, "Who are you?"
Surprised, I just stared at him, "Sioux Falls. Melanie Kheel. Find me Castiel." Those words escaped my lips, and then I woke up.
When I opened my eyes the first thing I saw was the clock. "8:47 AM". I rolled over and looked at the light streaming through the windows. The light of morning time, I thought to myself. It was like any other morning until I remembered my crazy dream.
"Girl, no more drinking before bed," I told myself.
I turned onto my back and sat up, taking my glass of water taking a drink. I frowned and took another, bigger drink. It went down east, no throat pain either. I cleared my throat and took a deep breath. No chest pain either. I reached to my neck to check my lymph node, but before I could, I heard a familiar voice.
"You're healed."
I looked in the direction that the voice came from, and there, in the corner of my room stood Castiel, the angel from my dream.