SAVED TO SAVE
CHAPTER TWO
Dean wasn't sure exactly what reaction he was expecting.
But he was pretty sure hysterical laughter wasn't it. Sam's gun clattered to the floor as he keeled backwards onto the bed he was sitting on, his large frame shuddering as spasm after spasm of wild giggles and guffaws erupted. His head turned from side to side, tears leaking from his eyes.
Dean seriously feared for his sanity, watching his little brother lose it again and again. "Sam?" When that had no reaction, he tried, "Sammy?"
Sam slowly sat up, shaking his head and wiping his palms across his cheeks. "Okay... okay, I see what's going on, now."
"What's that?" Dean asked warily.
"Who is he, really, Dean? Did you hire him? I almost believed the entire spiel - and killing Ruby was a really nice touch, but a little bit overkill - until you said that I'm partly you. C'mon, Dean, joke's over. What's really going on, here?"
Dean closed his eyes and held onto the bridge of his nose in a 'give me strength' gesture. "Sammy," he sighed. "I didn't hire him. I never saw him before today. I think he's exactly who he says he is and I think he's told us the truth up till now."
Sam looked over at him and another, though smaller, round of helpless giggles erupted. "Yeah, right. Enough's enough, Dean. Tell me what's really going on, okay?"
Dean looked incredulously at Sam, then gained his feet. Lunging, he knocked the scarab from Crowley's grasp with one hand and caught it with the other. He slammed it into Crowley's neck and the demon hissed, his eyes going red from corner to corner as he arched.
Dean stepped back as Crowley's head resumed a more normal position. "Who are you?" he demanded.
Crowley's voice had become a dull monotone. "I am the King of the Crossroads Demons. I have many names, but the one that suits me here and now is Crowley. No relation to the Satanic church founder."
"You've hit us with a lot of information today. We know that demons lie. We know that this charm compels you to be absolutely truthful. So. What have you lied about in this font of information you've delivered to us?"
The answer was as shocking as it was instant.
"I have lied about nothing. Everything I've told you was the truth."
Sam's jaw lowered as his eyes widened. "You mean... You really are a demon who's being extraordinarily honest?"
"Yes, I am."
"You really believe that Lilith wants Dean in hell so he can break the first of these 66 seals and jump start the Apocalpyse?"
"Yes. I do."
Sam blinked. "Then what you said about me..."
"Speculation," Crowley monotoned. "Nobody is certain what happened, but your personality has definitely shifted to become more like Dean in some aspects. Most notably, the single-mindedness of your hunting and the fierce devotion to your brother."
Sam licked his lips. "And you have hinted that Dean can be rescued from this fate. Is that true?"
"It is."
"So," Sam and Dean said in unison. Then Sam said, "Tell us how he can be saved" at the exact same time Dean said, "Tell us how to reverse what's been done to Sammy!"
They looked at each other, then barked out in perfect unison, "No, dude, you're more important!"
Crowley broke into laughter. After a moment of glaring, both brothers chuckled as well.
Crowley then said, "It's only speculation, mind you. Nobody knows exactly what happened. But there's a reason Crossroads Deals are sealed with a kiss. In that kiss, a tiny sliver of soul is removed and used as... as collateral on the loan, for lack of a better term. My best guess is that, somehow, that tiny sliver of soul was added to Sam when he was reanimated."
Dean frowned. "Like a jump to a car battery?"
Sam glared. "Dude, I'm not the Impala!"
Crowley chuckled at that. "No, you're not. And that's not what I mean. I mean more along the lines of... of proof of purchase. That tiny little bit was put in there to show the price that was paid for your reawakening. Granted, this is all speculation, but..."
"But it makes sense," Sam nodded slowly. "More sense than bringing me back unchanged from the goodness of a demon's heart - even in response to a deal."
Dean nodded slowly. "I think you're right."
Sam nodded again, his eyes on the scarab slowly pulsing on Crowley's neck. "So - now that we've got me sorted out, I want to hear about how to rescue Dean from Hell."
"That will take some doing." Crowley's face shuttered as the truth came out. "And it might not even work-"
"We kill Lilith, right?" Dean asked.
"Would that we could, Winchester, but we need to leave her alive. The Apocalypse has to happen sometime, after all. Just...not right now."
Sam shook his head. "But won't she just keep killing indiscriminately?"
"No," Crowley said. "With Dean-o here not in Hell, her plan is derailed for a few more centuries, at least. She'll go to ground and bide her time until the times are right again. But your generation is spared."
The brothers nodded as one. Dean frowned. "But I don't understand something."
"Well, no surprise there," Crowley muttered.
"Watch it," Sam warned and the demon tilted his head in mute apology.
Dean glared at him and then said, "There's nowhere on Earth that the hellhounds won't be able to find me if we don't break the deal. And if we do break the deal, Sammy-"
"-will be fine," Crowley interrupted. "We're not going to break the deal."
"Then there's no way to keep me out of Hell," Dean growled. "The hellhounds will find me no matter where on Earth I go!"
"Exactly," Crowley began to smile.
The Winchesters looked at each other, now hopelessly confused.
SPN SAVED SPN TO SPN SAVE SPN
One phone call later, and the Winchesters packed up the room while Crowley talked to Bobby Singer on speakerphone. Questions and answers flew back and forth, the same things that had been gone over with the Winchesters were gone over again and again.
At last, Bobby asked the question on everyone's minds. "What do you mean, 'Exactly'? What are you talking about?"
"You're a researcher, Singer," Crowley answered. "Research the 'Removers'."
Silence for a moment, then Bobby breathed, "That's just a legend."
"Demons are only legendary too, aren't we?" Crowley shot back. "And so is the Golden Truth, but it's been attached to my neck for the last half hour or so."
There was a deep sigh, then Bobby said, "Okay. Point taken. I don't want you anywhere near my house."
"No worries," Crowley replied. "I don't intend to get anywhere near your house."
Dean scooped up the phone and shut off the speaker. "Bobby? We're on our way. See you when we get there." He closed the phone and removed the scarab from Crowley's neck. "Get out of here."
Crowley blinked up at him. "You're not going to milk me for more information?"
"We know how to get you if we do," Sam said with a smirk. "Nearest crossroads..."
Scoffing, Crowley shook his head. "Don't take this wrong, but I don't want to see you yahoos for a long time."
"No offense taken," Dean said with a smirk. "Get out of here."
Crowley stood up and walked toward the door. He turned and held out his hand. "The scarab...if you please."
"No," Dean said. "Consider it collateral."
And Crowley broke into a genuine smile. "Now you're speaking my language." He lowered his hand and walked out the door before vanishing in a burst of sulfur stink.
SPN SAVED SPN TO SPN SAVE SPN
Because of the stress of the last few days, the journey from Monument, Colorado, to Bobby's place in Sioux Falls took a lot longer than the expected twelve hours. When Dean nearly fell asleep behind the wheel, they sought out a motel and called Bobby, telling him they were stopping to rest.
They then proceeded to crash for about twelve hours.
After a drive-through breakfast, the brothers completed their drive to Bobby's. They got out and did the requisite belt of holy water, and then got down to business. "So what did he mean, the 'Removers'?" Sam asked. "And what does that mean for Dean?"
-Bobby sighed and headed to his library with them trailing along. "Well," he sighed a second time. "I started with the legend and went from there."
"So what are these 'Removers'?" Dean asked.
"They're a legend," Bobby said as he sat down. "Let me read something to you."
Dean and Sam sat down as Bobby opened a book and began to read aloud:
"'The appearance of the wheels and their work was like unto the colour of a beryl: and they four had one likeness: and their appearance and their work was as it were a wheel in the middle of a wheel. When they went, they went upon their four sides: and they turned not when they went. As for their rings, they were so high that they were dreadful; and their rings were full of eyes round about them four. And when the living creatures went, the wheels went by them: and when the living creatures were lifted up from the earth, the wheels were lifted up. Whithersoever the spirit was to go, they went, thither was their spirit to go; and the wheels were lifted up over against them: for the spirit of the living creature was in the wheels.'"
Dean blinked. "That sounded...almost Biblical."
"It should," Bobby shot back. "It's from the first chapter of Ezekiel in the Old Testament. He saw a vision of living creatures and each creature had a wheel within a wheel with him. The legend is that these wheels and creatures-"
"Aren't they angels, Bobby?" Sam interrupted.
"Some people think so," Bobby nodded. "Most people think so. But there's a ribbon of lore that states that these are aliens and the 'wheel within a wheel' are spaceships."
Sam smiled at him. "So which do you believe?"
Bobby snorted and tapped the paper. "Anyway, this vision is what people think of as the 'Removers'."
"So what are they?" Sam asked and Bobby looked at him.
"They're just what they say. People are removed from Earth and taken - somewhere. Nobody knows where, but it's more than likely nowhere on Earth."
Sam and Dean looked at each other. "Nowhere on Earth the hellhounds can't find me," Dean breathed.
"These Removers, they're the answer that Crowley was getting at!" Sam broke into a dazzling grin. "Dean, this is it! This is how you're saved! You don't have to go to Hell! These Removers-"
"Whoa, settle down there," Dean held up a hand. "First of all, we don't even know if they're real. Second of all, if they are real, how do we get hold of them? Thirdly, why would they even help us? And fourth?" He reached over and curled a hand on the back of Sam's neck. "I'm not doing anything without you."
"Not even survive Hell?" Sam asked, and he sounded wrecked.
"No, Sammy. Not even survive Hell."
Bobby cleared his throat. "This is all well and good, but it's all moot unless we can find these 'Removers'. And right now they're still very much in the realm of legend. I still haven't found anything to indicate that they're even real."
"I think I can help you there." Three guns were suddenly in hands and pointed at the newcomer, who walked into the room - through the devil's traps and over the salt lines - like he owned the place. "And I intend to help you - once you put the guns down."
"Who the hell are you?" Bobby demanded. "And how the hell did you get into my house?"
The man's head tilted slightly and Dean had the crazy mental image of an overgrown, humanoid bird. "Hell had nothing to do with it, Robert Singer. I am Castiel - I am an angel of the Lord. And I am here to assist you."
"An angel?" Dean and Sam unisoned, before Dean finished, "There's no such thing!"
Cobalt eyes were fixed on his own jade ones, and Dean felt mingled amusement and disbelief rolling off the man in waves. "You battle the forces of Hell on a daily basis and yet you do not believe there are forces of Heaven as well?"
"I've never seen one," Dean growled.
"You have," the newcomer said with a slight smile. "You just did not realise it. And now, you have seen one in truth."
As he finished saying that, there was a sound like a clap of thunder and light flared behind him. In that light was revealed the shadows of two massive wings unfurling from the man's back. The wings retracted and the light faded and yes, the man was definitely smiling now.
"If you're an angel," Dean said, though he lowered his gun, feeling no threat from the strange man. "How come you look like some kind of... of holy tax accountant?"
The man - Castiel, Dean reminded himself - looked down at himself and touched his own chest. "The true form of an angel would render your eyes empty, bloody, sightless sockets. The true voice of an angel would burst your ears from the inside out, leaving you in impenetrable, permanent silence. This is a vessel, chosen to facilitate communication."
Dean's eyes went huge in shock. "You mean you're possessing some poor bastard?"
Castiel smiled again. "The 'poor bastard' has a name. It's Jimmy. And yes, you could use that term 'possessing'. He prayed to be used of Heaven. He is a very devout man. And he is very aware of everything that is going on, so please refrain from casting aspersions upon his parentage.'
Sam lowered his gun and laughed. "Dude, I think you've just been verbally smited!"
"Shut it," Dean growled. He heard Bobby's gun uncock.
"Castiel," Bobby said, going to his shelf and running a finger along spines before he found what he was looking for and pulled the book out. He laid it on the table and opened it, rifling through the pages. "I know that name from somewhere..."
Castiel opened his mouth to reply, but then Bobby jabbed a finger at something on the page. "Yes, here it is. Castiel is a guardian spirit. The Angel of Thursdays. He is at once a warrior and a healer."
"And on this day," Castiel nodded, "a messenger as well."
Sam gestured at the book. "So that's you, then?"
"Yes."
Dean frowned. "What message are you here to deliver?"
Castiel motioned toward chairs, and sat on the windowseat with the sun at his back. As the three sat down, he began, "Tell me what you are aware of, so I may know where to begin without repeating things you already know."
Dean and Sam spoke over each other, filling him in about the Yellow-Eyed Demon. About Cold Oak. About Dean's Crossroads Deal. About Ruby and Lilith. About Crowley's visit - was that only the night before? - and the information dump he'd deposited in their laps.
Bobby took over and told about the 'Removers' and how that could possibly save Dean.
Castiel nodded slowly. "Then I shall fill you in on the other side. Lilith is not working alone. There are angelic powers who also want Dean in Hell to break the first seal and begin the Apocalypse."
"What?" the brothers and Bobby erupted in unison. "Why?"
Castiel gave a sigh that seemed to come from his toes and leaned forward, clasping his hands loosely between the knees that his elbows rested on. "To understand that, you need to understand what is happening in Heaven, outside mortal eyes. Our Father has been - away - for some time and in his absence, many of my brothers and sisters have become..." He seemed to be groping for the words.
They waited patiently until he found them. "...bored. They want tasks. Purpose. To that end, they feel that if they can help trigger the Apocalypse and use the two of you as a modern-day Cain and Abel, then paradise on Earth will come about."
Sam's eyes narrowed. "Brother against brother, huh?"
"Never gonna happen," Dean said firmly.
"They will try to force it to happen by any means necessary," Castiel sighed. "Up to and including having Dean go to Hell and break the first seal."
Bobby put in, "I take it this ain't exactly the way God wanted things to go."
Castiel fixed unsettling cobalt eyes on him. "You take it correctly, Mister Singer."
"Bobby," Bobby said. "We're all friends here, till you prove otherwise."
"Then we are all friends - Bobby. I am here to assist." He licked visibly chapped lips in what seemed to be an unconscious gesture. "There are those who realise that this is not the time for Apocalypse and are trying to undo what has been put into motion. By any means necessary."
"Up to and including you revealing the inner workings of Heaven to us," Sam said, and Castiel nodded once, slowly.
"So what can you do to help?" Dean asked. "Cause I sure don't wanna die - not if this is what I gotta look forward to!"
Castiel inclined his head toward Bobby. "Your demonic source was correct. The B'Shain are your best hope."
"The who?" Bobby asked.
"The B'Shain. Your preliminary research has named them the Removers, but their proper designation is the B'Shain. With your permission, I shall contact them and see if there is truly anything they can do and what - precisely - that entails for you."
Dean nodded. "Thank you." And he meant that sincerely.
Castiel nodded and stood up.
"Castiel, wait," Sam said, standing as well. "Crowley speculated that when I was - returned - I wasn't completely myself. That I now have a sliver of Dean's soul inside of me."
"I could see," Castiel said. "But it would be extremely painful for you."
"I can take pain," Sam shot back. "I have to know."
"Sammy," Dean began.
"Dean - I have to know!"
"Sit down, then." Sam did and Castiel walked over to him and lay a hand on his shoulder. "I am sorry for the pain this will cause, Samuel."
"Sam," came the automatic correction.
"Sam." And his other hand lay flat on Sam's chest for a second.
Then Sam screamed, his head falling back, as Castiel's hand seemed to sink completely into his chest.
CONTINUED...
