Author's note: So yeah, this chapter is longer than the first two, but it was needed, and as I won't be posting for a few days, maybe a week, I wanted to make sure I left something good for everyone. Thanks a ton to those who have dropped me reviews so far, you really give me inspiration to write, and I'm sorry if I haven't thanked you personally, it's been a busy week. Still, I'd like to thank you here and now.
Anyways, now that I'm done ranting about my thanks, I'd like to appologize if the boys seem a little OOC, we don't have a lot to go on as far as Balthazar goes. Coy, sly, cocky, and rude may be a good way to describe him (especially towards Dean) but I wasn't sure how to characterize him when being seriously concerned (especially when directed at Sam, who clearly has a bond with him be it friendship or even more in the show), so I took some creative liberties.
I'm done now, so you can go ahead and read my dears. :D
Change
Dean laughed, and it certainly wasn't a pleasant one, more of a gruff, angry, you've-just-got-to-be-shitting-me kind of laugh. Sam on the other hand, could only stare in mild shock.
"Bullshit," Dean growled out and shoved the Angel. "You feathery dicks can shove it up your ass. Get out of here Balthazar."
Balthazar, to Sam's surprise, didn't smite his brother on the spot, and instead pushed around Dean and walked over to Sam before turning and addressing the eldest Winchester as if he were an infant. "Believe what you want you ignorant monkey, but I'm serious and unfortunately, bound by the stupid little Angel code we have to protect your hulking moose of a brother."
"Right," Dean snarled out, his tone dripping with a violent, venomous sarcasm as he pushed Balthazar away from his brother, then stood between them protectively. "Cause Angels just love helping out the Winchesters."
"Dean-" Sam tried to intervene, but Balthazar cut him off with a snarky reply to said brunette.
"Honestly you pig-headed imbecile, will you shut that gaping hole on your face for four seconds, get over your ridiculous unrequited love thing you had for Castiel and just-"
Dean lunged, and Sam was too surprised to really stop him. Balthazar had indeed just crossed a rather dangerous line, but who did Dean think he was trying to fist fight an Angel? Sam's guardian Angel no less who was-no doubt for Sam's sake-refraining from breaking every one of Dean's bones or worse, turning him into a smoldering pile of ash long enough for Sam to pry his brother off the British-accented male.
"Dean-"
"Let me go! I'll kick his feathery ass all the way back to-"
"Dean," Sam tried again, but was drowned out by another demeaning remark thrown in Balthazar's direction. He sighed, having grown far too agitated at this point and took firm hold of Dean's shoulders. "Dean!" He more-or-less screamed in the smaller man's face. At least it shut him up.
"Sam, don't tell me you actually believe the shit this pompous prick is trying to sell us," Dean demanded, his tone almost hurt when he shoved Sam away from him.
To Sam, it was an expected reaction, but it seemed to be the breaking point of all of Balthazar's patients.
Dean was thrown against the wall by said Angel who had manifested himself between the brothers just to grip Dean's collar and do so, only to pick him up off the floor and slam him into the nearest wall the second he hit the floor, the cheap plaster cracking from the strength of the elder man. Dean looked mildly terrified for a brief moment before his expression became steel once more.
"Listen very closely you ungrateful, sad, pathetic waste of space; I am an Angel, and you will remember who you are talking to. If it were not for my new duties to your brother, I'd smite you where you stand and end your pathetic existence. Now, I've quite had enough of your senseless name calling and arguing like an insolent child, so if you don't mind, I'd like it if you shut the Hell up for ten seconds," Balthazar spoke calmly, his tone dark, level and unwavering as he spoke, which surprised Sam. For such a dangerous threat, he spoke surprisingly cool as if scolding a child, not promising to fry him up extra crispy.
Dean didn't respond, and instead the two continued to glare, at which point Sam split the two apart, deciding it was about time he interjected his own opinions.
"Alright, you're both macho and strong, manly men, blah blah blah. Now if you two are done asserting your dominance or whatever with each other," Sam said pointedly, and pried them apart, "I think it's time I added my opinion to this."
"No," Dean huffed out at the same time Balthazar shrugged and nodded, as if he should have figured such a thing out sooner.
Sam turned his gaze to Dean. "This isn't just your decision."
"Sam, have you forgotten what happens when we let Angels help us?"
Sam sighed and ran his fingers through his hair; this wasn't going to be an argument easily won, especially when Sam was ignoring the elephant in the room, if the elephant was actually a not-really-there hallucination of a smug, sadistic ex-Archangel who seemed to be enjoying the scene before him.
"Oh Sam, your brother sure is dense," Lucifer chided, twirling his knife. "Must be where you learned it from."
Sam pointedly ignored that corner of the room and focused on Dean. "Did you forget that he died fighting to protect us?"
Dean glared. "It doesn't make a difference Sam!"
"He's right," Lucifer chimed in, now standing to the left of the two, grinning with a wickedness that was all his own. "Nothing makes a difference since you're still in Hell."
"It does make a difference," Sam snapped, and he wasn't exactly sure who he was addressing, even if his eyes were still locked with Dean's. Lucifer smirked anyway, and Sam continued. "We know Balthazar won't hurt us. He's our friend."
"Just like Castiel was?"
"Could he be anymore hopelessly in love? I mean, I think I've really outdone myself this time around," Lucifer purred, gesturing to Dean.
"Shut up!" Sam snapped at the not-real Archangel, who smirked.
Dean frowned and followed Sam's gaze "Sam," he said, tone softening, "Do you-"
"Yeah," Sam cut him off, not wanting to discuss his elephant with Balthazar in the room. Speaking of which, the Angel now stood beside Sam, following his line of sight.
"Sam?" He inquired curiously, but not with his normal smug undertone.
Sam pointedly ignored all things Angel-related and returned his attention to Dean. "We need help man."
"We don't-"
Dean was cut off, this time by a curiously loud chirp from his cell phone. Sam arched an eyebrow at him, asking his brother with one gesture if he was expecting any calls from chicks he'd picked up. Dean's confused expression said he wasn't, and if it wasn't some local bar-lush, neither knew who else would be calling, as most of their old contacts were dead.
Dean pushed past Sam and Balthazar and picked up his cell phone. Balthazar took that moment to pull Sam toward the semi-hall/entrance of the motel room and speak in a hushed tone. "You have no clue how much trouble you guys are in. You need to go, get out of here. There's a case in Scranton, Pennsylvania, it'll be safe there and the long ride will give you and Dean time to sort things out. Once you get there, we need to talk more."
Balthazar spoke in a low, quick tone and Sam got the feeling that he was going to have to leave.
"I don't want to fight with Dean, I'll leave you to fight that battle but I need you to understand something, I really, honestly want to help you Sam, and I can."
"Wait," Sam said, shaking his head and leaning in closer, so Dean wouldn't hear them. He was listening to some voice-mail, and Sam knew they only had a handful of seconds left before Dean deleted it and ended their conversation. "What kind of trouble are we in?"
"You're about to find out and when you do I want you to run. Get out of here, and when you find another motel in Scranton, call me. I think I can fix your hallucination problem."
Sam's eyes widened and he opened his mouth to speak; too bad Balthazar disappeared with the ever-familiar sound of flapping wings.
"Damn it," he muttered and turned around to see a very shocked Dean shoving his cell phone at him.
"Listen," he demanded and Sam pressed the phone to his ear. At first he heard only the automated voice informing him of the date, time, and number at which the call had been received, then the faint sound of rustling, followed by a voice that Sam knew all-too well.
"We're coming for you." It said in a smooth, serious-as-death tone, the threat implied with crystal clarity.
Sam's eyes went wide, Dean nodded, took the phone and muttered, "pack your shit" clearly forgetting Balthazar as a much more important and prominent threat was suddenly put into motion.
Gordon Walker was alive, and he was coming for Sam Winchester.
