Ashes
Welcome to the sequel of EMBER! Sorry it took so long.
He never asked Bobby about Ember's absence, and he never spoke about it until that day, catching up after his return from hell. They had a lot of time to talk, after all, while painting symbols over the entirety of the barn to trap whatever the hell it was that brought him back from hell.
"Dead?" He asked, in shock and completely frozen, his can of spray paint forgotten in his palm. "For how long?" Bobby shook his head, staring straight ahead at the symbol he painted, his jaw clenched in a firm frown. "Years now," his voice was solid, not wavering at all. "After the fight with your dad...she was attacked."
"Why didn't you call?" Dean's voice was exasperated, his eyes bugged out in disbelief. Ember, in his mind, was too stubborn to die, a permanent fixture in this world. He should have known better, he guessed, but it didn't stop him from being surprised. She was gone, for years now, and he didn't know. "What the hell killed her?"
"You know what killed her. I've told you, idjit."
Dean was quiet, trying to finish the Egyptian sigil and balance on his ladder, digging in his memory. He couldn't quite place the thought, but something nagged at his brain. "Azazel?" His teeth clenched, finally recalling the information Bobby had already given him.
**"I've been tracking the demon; he's got to die now. We've got his name."
"Thanks for the dedication, Bobby, but you're acting like it's personal." Dean and Sam stood side by side at Bobby's back door, knowing they didn't have long until the sirens would be heard, Meg's victim laying under the devil's trap. "It is," he replied, jaw clenched as he waved them along, waving with a stone wall facial expression.
Dean almost held his breath as he pressed the petal flat to the floor board, squealing tires on the gravel. "What the hell did that mean?"
Sam shrugged, about to open his mouth before the sound of sirens interrupted him, his head turning to look out the back glass. "Might want to go faster, Dean!"**
"Why didn't you tell me?" Dean finally asked, his thoughts so muddled he couldn't decide what to think about: Ember's demise or the thing coming? They sat, guns loaded and waiting for the thing to make an appearance, impatient and ready.
"Yah didn't ask," Bobby spoke, coming to sit on the table across from Dean as he dug a knife into the wooden surface, watching the younger man bring it around in circles. "You sure you did the ritual right?" It didn't take him long to interpret the look he received. "Alright! Touchy, touchy, huh?"
The tin roofing on the barn suddenly shook with the force of the incoming wind, making the men jump from there seats. "Wishful thinking, but maybe it's just the wind?" Dean questioned before the overhead lights popped out, exploding loudly. The doors to the barn opened, revealing a man in a suit that walked forward, unstopped by the symbols painted all over the walls and ceiling, and followed by a shadow covered woman in jeans.
Dean picked up Ruby's knife, stepping to circle around the man, "Who are you?" He questions, face steady.
"I'm the one that gripped you tight and raised you from perdition."
Dean didn't take too kindly to that answer, gripping his knife tighter in his hand he spoke, "Yeah? Thanks for that." He wasn't sure himself if it was sarcasm or actual gratitude he spoke as he launched forward with Ruby's knife, plunging it deep into the man's heart.
He just stood there for a while, expression blank as the knife protruded from his suit clad chest, before glancing down at it and gripping the handle, tightly ripping it from its sheath. He dropped it, fully aware of Dean's shocked gaze.
Bobby and Dean shared a glance before Bobby decided to attack, swinging a long, sharp blade towards the man's face. It was deflected as the mystery man turned to grab it, whispers springing from no one's mouth as he raised his fingers to Bobby's forehead, his expression not changing as the mans body fell to the ground. "We need to talk, Dean."
"Alone," he added with one more glance toward Bobby's unconscious body.
Dean took the first chance he could, running and kneeling in front of Bobby's form when the man moved to stand beside the wooden table Dean had previously been sitting on. "Your friend's alive."
"Who are you?"
"Castiel," he spoke quickly and seriously as he kept his gaze downward. The woman that had appeared with him nodded toward him, bowing before disappearing into thin air.
"Yeah, I figured that much. I mean, what are you?"
Castiel looked up, expression the same serious one he had that entire evening. "I'm an angel of the Lord." Both men paused, Dean looking at the man, not knowing what to think as he continued to kneel over Bobby, before deciding to stand, his resolve steel. "Get out of here. There's no such thing."
He gave Castiel the dirtiest look he could manage, disgust written all over his manly features. "This is your problem, Dean. You have no faith." Lightning stuck, playing shadows around the barns walls, a pair of black shadow wings spreading out behind Castiel's still form.
"Some angel you are. You burned out that poor woman's eyes!"
Castiel looked downward at that, his expression finally changed to that of sadness. "I warned her not to spy on my true form," he raised his head as he stepped forth in Dean's direction. "It can be...overwhelming to humans. And so can my real voice, but you already knew that."
"You mean the gas station and the motel?" He nodded. "That was you talking?" Castiel nodded, prodding Dean to shake his head. "Buddy, next time, lower the volume."
"That was my mistake," Castiel's face turned solemn for a moment as he nodded once more. "Certain people, special people, can perceive my true visage. I thought you would be one of them-your friend Ember could. I was wrong."
"And what 'visage' are you in now, huh? What? 'Holy tax accountant'? And how do you know Ember?"
"This?" Castiel grabbed the ends of his trench coat, smiling a tiny bit. "This is a vessel."
"You're possessing some poor bastard?"
"He's...a devout man. He actually prayed for this."
"Look pal," Dean inwardly clenched his fists even more than they already were. "I'm not into you avoiding a question and I'm not buying what you're selling, so what are you really?" He tried to ignore Castiel's innocent look of confusion, knowing he could, and probably was, faking. "I told you," he said sincerely, not getting that Dean thought he was lying. "Right...And why would an angel...rescue me from Hell?"
"Good things do happen, Dean," Castiel started to invade Dean's personal space when he stepped forward. "Not in my experience," Dean spoke threw clenched teeth. "What's the matter?" Castiel's eyes searched the man's in front of him, "You don't think you deserve to be saved." He spoke, a statement, not a question. He watched as the man swallowed before asking, "Why did you do it?"
"Because God commanded it." He stated simply. "Because we have work for you."
Dean dragged Bobby's body to the Impala as quickly as he could after Castiel's disappearance, ready to get the hell out of there. He drove back in silence, wondering when Bobby was going to wake up and continuously checking for his friend's pulse.
Angels? I don't know what the hell that thing was, but it couldn't be an angel, Dean thought to himself as he pulled into the driveway of Bobby's house. "C'mon, Bobby. Wake up so I don't have to drag your ass in the house!" He tried slapping him, pinching him and screaming in his ear as he pulled his unconscious body from the passenger door of the Impala. "Alright. I'll let nurse Sam deal with you from now on. You'd better wake up before it gets to the point of 'sponge bathes' because I'll post pictures of your nude ass on the web."
"Dude? Seriously?" Sam asked, closing the door to Bobby's bedroom, his eyes bugged out in shock. "Angels?"
"Yeah, man." Dean went into the kitchen, grabbing a beer from the fridge. "Apparently. And," he took a long gulp from the bottle. "That noise is them talking! Said that special people can understand him." He was quiet for a moment, thinking again about Ember and how the angel spoke about her like they had met. "Said Ember could."
"Ember?" Sam was shocked, almost like information overload. "Where is she? This is great!" Ember wasn't his favorite person, but if she could help, that would be great. If she could understand angels, then she must have met an ange-
"She's dead."
Sam was frozen, his thoughts stopping immediately, staring as Dean's face remained the same stonic expression as he brought the bottle, once again, to his mouth and finishing it at once. "For how long?" He asked quietly, solemnly. "I don't know when. Bobby said 'years'," Dean spit out, his mouth frowning so deep his cheeks started to hurt. "Oh," Sam swallowed, running his hand threw his shaggy hair and turning around to collapse in one of the dinette chairs in Bobby's kitchen. "How did she die?"
"Azazel," Dean swallowed air, throwing his beer in the trash and opening the fridge to open another.
Sam couldn't help but think back to his mother and Jessica, remembering the way Dean's eyes would follow her everywhere she went and wondering how attached he was to her, after all. "Was it a fire?"
"No," Bobby's voice came from the doorway to the kitchen. He looked disheveled and ready to pass out, but still he came to sit in front of Sam. "You," he looked at Dean. "Are going to fill me in on what happened, but first...I guess you'll want to know what happened to Ember."
Silence was made, weaving around the room. The boys had nothing to say, waiting until Bobby started his story. "Well, it happened not long after the fight your father and I had. Yellow eyes decided she was a 'distraction'. Tortured her, and ended up basically breaking her neck before some explosion went off. Bent her neck so far back it cut off oxygen to her brain and sent her into a coma." Bobby took off his hat in his pause. "She bled out in surgery that day."
"Sounds like bad day time television," Dean spoke, his back turned to the men at the table. "Where is here body? And how do the angels know her?"
"They said something about Ember?" Bobby stood from his seat at the table, coming to stand close behind Dean. "What happened?"
Bobby spent the next few weeks behind his desk, researching and digging into the angel legends and writing down what he remembered about Ember's life, trying to think of where she could have possibly met an angel.
Nothing. He couldn't find anything on actual angels in mythology or in Ember's life that was reliable or useful. Not a lead in sight. What he was going to do, he didn't know. How Ember got herself tangled up with the guys upstairs, he didn't know. Ember, if he remembered correctly-and he usually did-seemed to be one of those people with a trouble magnet attached to their chests. It really didn't help that she knew plenty of people-everyone in town, in fact.
She had a charming personality, one that attracted attention out the wazoo. He thought back to her last day, like he did so often, and again thought of the mystery explosion. He knew she was a bit of a pyro, and had often wondered if she set it off herself. Or if one she had been working on was accidentally triggered during the fight. Now, he wondered, if the white light wasn't actually an explosion and actually a heavenly presence.
If it was, he would feel extremely stupid for not seeing it before, but it wasn't as if he could go to some website and reread what happened form her perspective, so he relied on memory and detective work.
His phone started to ring before he could conclude his thoughts, interrupting his inner turmoil. "What?"
"Nice day to you, too, Bobby," Dean's voice came through Bobby's phone loud and clear, his sarcasm evident. "Sam's been bugging me for a week to ask what you did with Ember's body."
"So?" Bobby asked, his head starting to ache.
"So...What'd you do with her?"
"Why does it matter? You haven't cared until now."
"Yeah, well," Dean grumbled. "Before now I didn't know she was dead and angel's weren't crawlin' up my ass." Bobby thought back to the funeral, his eyes closing. "Buried her on Holy ground. No ghost, boys. I check."
Ok, I wanted to end it there. What do you think? You should tell me in a review.
Things and songs that inspired me while writing this chapter:
1. Summer Boy, by Lady Gaga
2. I like it Rough, by Lady Gaga
3. The birds outside my damn window that wouldn't leave me alone.
4. SuzSinger for letting me bounce ideas off of her. Thanks, friend.