When
the swords clashed, he could feel it, the air tight and rippling
around him alive with energy. The more he looked, the more he could
see their angelic forms burning through the hosts' skin. Dean's
face was disturbingly like a semi-translucent Halloween mask, and the
archangel's visage shone through, even as Lucifer's terrible beauty
shone through that of his host. But he could look and not be blinded,
listen and not go deaf to their forms and words. He looked
upon two of the mightiest of God's creations and saw their real
forms, heard their real voices that touched and destroyed things of
mere matter around them. But he wasn't matter here and now, he was
sacrifice, something paid or taken, but the result was the same.
Beneath him a sword of stars railed the fire of a thousand brilliant
suns upon the blade containing the hunger of a multitude of black
hole singularities, deadlocked, unrelenting. It was battle that
lasted an instant and an eternity. Time was twisting here, decades in
a second, a heartbeat taking years. Around them the Apocalypse
swirled and he knew then across the world, as time danced and lurched
drunkenly the dead returned, and the boundaries between Heaven and
Hell opened, spilling onto the earth the Lazarus dead. And there was
a War in the skies, on the surface of the earth that could not be
stopped. All of that, and he wondered how much of his brother
would be left, because holy crap, the power directed at his body was
immense. How much would the angel leave him even if he survived? "You are slow, brother," Lucifer said softly. "Slow
and weak. You do not ask why, you simply fight." "I
am an angel of the Lord, His Word that cannot be broken,"
Michael answered, cleaving at him with all his strength and Sam
struggled to be heard over the tornado winds that whirled every time
they sliced through air with their celestial blades. Dean, he
called over and over, Dean! But the words were eaten by the roaring
winds and still he was held pinioned in midair. "And so
you call me the Lie, as you see me as a broken word," Lucifer
said again. "What I did, you do not understand. I was the truest
of you all and for that I am Enemy, your Great Adversary. You do not
understand, Michael. I was His most favored and for that he gave me
the greatest and cruelest of gifts. I was the First of his creation
to be able to Love. He so Loved me, he wished it returned and the
wonder of it, Michael, I cannot explain. It is not adulation, it is
not obedience and... I gloried in it and Him. But true love is
jealous and wild, Michael. How was I to know why I needed Him to look
to me with attention? None had Loved before... none had needed so
painfully desperately to have and hold for eternity." "Liar,
and Father of Lies!" Michael declaimed but his words lacked some
conviction. "We are created from our Father's Love!" "But I love from myself, for love is the heart of free
will and that I have. And I still love Him now, though I have
suffered for it," Lucifer answered, his ages old pain still
fresh in his voice. "Suffered in a way you will not understand.
I do not reject God, I wish him to be Mine. He created me like this,
he gave me this purpose and now I am free, I will not be rejected
again though I have to storm the Gates of Heaven and lay waste to his
precious creation that drew him from me. He shall see me and know I
have been tested and endured for Him!" Crazy, the Devil
was crazy. Sam could see it clearly, once a bright wonderful thing,
too bright, too wonderful and twisted into something an angel could
not deal with and remain sane. There was a tragedy there because Sam
could feel the resonance of truth there in his words and the
obsession that drove the ruler of Hell to challenge Heaven. It was a
story that had played out on the earth thousands of times a day –'
If I can't have you then no one will... ' Michael
faltered, then, and Lucifer, the morning and the evening star, struck
at him, wounding him badly on his side. Blood fell, crimson and
starlight from the wound, but even as Lucifer laughed, Michael thrust
back matching him wound for wound. Finesse and civility
abandoned, they whirled into the air, wings of emerald fire
flickering on the edge of vision, eclipsed by feathers of night and
universe sky. Swords became lightning, became spears, became weapon
after weapon, as they spun in a yin yang of never ending battle. Sam could barely see Dean. There was a light where he was,
something almost too bright to see like the heart of an atomic bomb,
or a supernova, but somehow, somehow after an eternity, Lucifer was
down, beneath Michael's foot, and a spear leveled at his throat. "You are defeated, brother," Michael exulted,
though he bled from many wounds. "The victory is ours." Lucifer laughed and Sam's neck prickled. There was a
madness there, a desperation. He recognized it because he'd been
there. In his mind he could hear the memory of Dean turning to him
and saying, "I'm done," with utter weariness and despair. "Then know now, your victory shall be as ashes. For if I
cannot have Him, then no one shall!" And he turned and spoke a
Word, an Abomination, and terror filled Sam because instinctively he
knew it was wrong, it was not meant to happen. This was a choice that
should never have been made and better that Heaven fell and Hell took
dominion than that Word be spoken. "What have you done?!
Lucifer, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?" Michael staggered back staring
into space next to Sam. Something crawled across the air, a...
nothingness as if a thread had been pulled in the fabric of space and
time and now it unraveled. "There shall be no greater
love than mine, not in the universe. For now it shall end, and He
shall end with it," Lucifer said his eyes burning with. "I
did not want his Throne, I wanted his Love and instead of returning
it, He left and now our suffering will end! It is too late to stop
it!" Michael had backed away, the horror evident in his
face, dropping the sword and abruptly Dean's body sagged, emptied
of its angelic possessor, dropping to his knees in front of Lucifer. The nothingness was growing, twisting and turning in
capillaries of destruction that snaked out in three dimensions that
he could see, and more that he was sure he could not. Lucifer glanced
at it and laughed, a bitter almost hysterical laugh. "The
Omega. There is no going back." "You…fucking…bastard,"
Dean managed and even then Sam felt a surge of relief Dean was still
Dean, still alive if bleeding. "You fucking selfish bastard!
What kind of petty shit are you?" "You wouldn't
understand," Lucifer said as Sam felt the universe beginning a
slow inexorable collapse. "Like hell I wouldn't!"
Dean yelled hoarsely. "Whatever happens, you are going down and
you are damn well giving back my brother!" Lucifer
laughed wildly, right up to the point where Dean grasped hold of
Michael's sword and nearly screamed as it flamed. But he didn't
let go, he looked at Sam, meeting his eyes and then dragged himself
up, still burning, lightning snapping around him, doing the
impossible because that was what Dean did every damn time. Lucifer
was so shocked at a mortal even daring to approach him that he missed
the lunge Dean made, straight for his heart, only just bringing up
his sword to run through Dean's side as the sword of Michael slid
into his chest.. Sam dropped to the floor, stunned by the
impact, free again even as Lucifer burned away with a howl of loss
and Dean collapsed, with a mortal wound from a celestial sword still
embedded in his body. And around him the universe died even
as Dean whispered, "Sammy…" just once before closing his
eyes.
"Sam. Sam, you must wake." Castiel was talking to him with some urgency, and he snapped to consciousness, still in shitty room they had found for this particular night.
"Wha, wait…" Sam sat up abruptly, disorientated and sweating hard. "What's going on? "
"Your shared vision is causing Dean pain," Castiel said sitting back. "He recalls it as if it were happening, and so does his body. "
"Shit, is he…" Sam felt sick. He couldn't stop these dreams, they were out of his hands, and if Dean was feeling what was happening why hadn't he said before?.
"He can hear you," Dean said, sounding much like he did when he'd been out drinking all night and was rough around the edges. "I told you to leave it, Cas."
"But you were in pain," Castiel said looking over his shoulder at Dean who was sprawled on the make shift bed, pressing fresh dressings to his side.
"I'm a big boy, Cas, even compared to the family giant over there," Dean answered tersely. "I can deal with it."
"But you shouldn't have to. Why didn't you say something, Dean?" Sam demanded, as guilt washed over him. "If this is some misguided attempt at punishing yourself…"
There it was; the barest hint that there was at least an element of that going on, just from the way Dean looked away. "I wanted to know what was going on as well, Sam. You're not the only one with a hole in your memory. Just… forgetting was kinda less painful."
Sam was sure that remembering that, remembering dying was something that Dean shouldn't have to do again. His brother was an idiot. "Maybe we should stop trying to figure out what happened."
Dean looked at him in amazement. "Yeah, that's going to work," he said sarcastically. "Just turn off your brain, and everything will be fine."
"I do not believe that you will be able to stop," Castiel added. "What is it that you saw?"
"Cas is stopping the peeking into thoughts thing, at least until I persuade him it's okay," Dean said waving a hand, the color coming back to his face slowly. "Whole Lucifer Michael showdown. Apparently the whole thing, this whole goddamn apocalypse was over a possessive jealous snit by Lucifer that God was his one true whatever."
"He released something he called the Omega," Sam said. It was raining outside after days of bitter ash laden hot wind, and he could hear the rumble of distant thunder. Dogs were howling out of the window, lonely for owners who had burned to ash. He had a feeling this storm had been brewing a long time. He shook his head and then realized that Castiel had almost literally staggered back in horror at the mere mention of the word.
"No. This cannot be true," he stated as if that would make it so. The angel actually had to sit down, made pale with shock and fear. "There is not one of us who could think of such a thing. It's... impossible!"
"Lucifer made some pretty big hints that he had been God's first experiment in Love as I guess humans have it. Maybe it really did make him different," Sam said awkwardly. He couldn't help feeling a degree of empathy for the fallen angel. The alienation and feeling of strangeness had meant when he met Jess and his normal life, then it had seemed so infinitely precious to him, it had been worth walking away from Dean, from Dad. He could only assume that Lucifer had been driven to such extreme straits by the unaccustomed torment of unrequited love.
"You do not understand," Castiel told them, his dark eyes actually fearful. "The Omega is the province of God. A means to end all things. He is the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End."
"Like a big red button?" Dean asked flippantly though Sam knew his brother well enough to know he was covering for something.
"An apocalypse though a tragedy is but one world, Dean," Castiel answered seriously. "But the Omega is the end of everything. I do not understand. Are you sure that is what he did, that it actually started?"
"Definitely," Sam confirmed, nodding in emphasis. He wasn't going to forget that feeling of complete and utter wrongness in a hurry. "Things were... unraveling around us."
"Then it is a miracle that it ceased," the angel said. "How did that occur?"
"Got me," Dean said. "I was last seen in Sam's vision, pretty much bleeding out with Lucifer's sword in my gut after I killed him. I got my smite on." His grin covered a wince as he moved.
"Can you heal him?" Sam asked, as he watched his brother try to move. "Cas? I mean.. no wonder it hasn't healed right if this is happening." He was responsible for that, like he was for a lot of the crap that his brother had been through. So far though, he was more than aware that his own part in proceedings had been hanging there like bait on a hook, and no damn use to either side, after all the buildup.
"I am still weak, but I will try," Castiel agreed immediately. "For I believe we draw close to our destination and the Prophet."
Dean looked at him and closed his eyes. "Great, just great. So we're going to have to deal with that, too. What the hell are we going to do when we get to Bobby's anyway? We're all heading there because, hey, he knows about demons and angels and has the lore pretty sewn up, but we've got Cas here as well and it's not like we can turn back time and make everything unhappen."
"Unless we found a Trickster," Sam pointed out. "You'd think that would work?"
"No, it would not," Castiel said, knocking back his sudden hope. "Tricksters do not change the whole world. They make a pocket of reality and within it, their will dominates."
"Still, if the Big Guy is absent, then maybe we need to look elsewhere for solutions," Dean replied still pointedly keeping his eyes closed.
What happened next, Sam wasn't exactly sure because it happened in a blur. The door burst open and a group of men -- hunters -- came in, firing at all of them. Unlike with their venture into Hell, the protective instinct bypassed the conscious mind and he raised his hand and in an echo of Alistair's ability stopped the bullets midair. It didn't feel the same though; it didn't have that sharp metallic wrongness about it that gave him a foul taste in his mind. It was strong and clear, golden liquid light flowing through his body to pool in his fingers, humming with power.
Dean had struggled to his feet and was reaching for his own gun, a little stunned that their assailants were effectively left powerless. Sam was pretty damn stunned himself, holding the bullets there like something out of a movie.
"Didn't anyone tell you to knock?" Dean growled. His eyes narrowed. "I know you. Hunters, all of you."
One of them spat at him. "Winchester. We know what you did. You started this."
Dean didn't flinch from the accusation. "You expect me to deny it?" he said in a low rough voice.
"You don't know what you're talking about," Sam said instantly to support his brother.
"And you're a tool of the devil himself." Fear made the hunter's worlds harsh and accusatory. "Walker told us how you were the anti-Christ, and he weren't lying. Stopping bullets with a wave of your hand, eyes glowing golden…"
Golden? That was a change. He lowered his hand and the bullets pattered to the floor, a metallic rain.
"Harris." Dean said focusing in on the man. "Me and Dad saved your ass in that town in Maine. …hell, Chris, man, remember the Ice Witch up near Alaska? All of you, there's not one of you that the Winchesters haven't helped out some time or another."
"Nothing worse than a good hunter going bad," one of them said -- Chris apparently, Sam didn't know him and it made him feel those missing years at Stanford keenly. Somehow he hadn't really connected the fact that Dean had been hunting in that time with actual people and hunts. They were abstract thoughts in his head, not real things.
"The apocalypse is your fault, the pair of you. Nothing we've heard gives us reason to think otherwise," Harris added. They were all looking for an opening, a weak spot. None of them had missed Dean's injury for a start.
"Then you will listen to me." Castiel said stepping forward. "I am Castiel, an angel of the Lord. These men have been a part of God's will and you have no comprehension of the purpose they have served."
Dean groaned. "You know, Cas, that's not helping. They don't give a shit about why, just that it happened."
"You got that right," Harris answered and the hatred was clear in his expression. "Figure you should pay for it."
"Okay, look guys," Sam tried. "So not the time for any of this. I could just…" He flexed his hand and felt the power sing but held it.
Dean shook his head. "No Sam. That ain't going to stop them coming. Gonna make it worse." He turned back to the lynch mob. "You know about Chuck? The Prophet?"
"He is the voice of God," one of the others said fervently and Sam could see the irony in the fact Castiel's attempt at explanation was not sufficient, but the word of a man was more important.
"Then Sam here won't do anything and we'll come with you, and see what the Prophet says. He kinda made a prophecy we'd meet up," Dean said.
Sam couldn't believe he was hearing this. Dean was effectively giving them up without a fight, and he could so easily get them away. But if there was one thing that he'd learned from this whole crappy business, Dean might occasionally be goofy, seemingly idiotic and not giving a shit about being normal, but his instincts about conflict were sharp and somehow dead on even in defiance of common sense.
The hunters did look a little like they couldn't believe their luck. "You're coming with us," Harris declared like he had personally captured them.
Dean shrugged and looked casual. "Whatever, dude. In the morning, and we'll be taking the Impala. One of you can ride along if you're worried we're going to take off."
It was almost hilarious; the looks of consternation on their faces, much like someone confronting a man-eating tiger only to have it roll over and purr at them.
"Okay," Harris said. "Uh, we'll just.." He looked at Castiel, who had been doing the angel stare thing that gave the impression he was reading the inside of his head, and shifted uncomfortably. "We'll just take the perimeter. Don't even think about escaping."
"We'll do that," Dean said even giving them a little wave as they filed out into the rain again. The moment the door was closed he started to snort with laughter, clutching his side to stop it moving too much.
"…Dude, that has to be the most lame-ass lynching party I've ever seen," he said.
"Dean, seriously, we can give them the slip, it's not like people elsewhere would know," Sam started, just wanting to keep Dean safe. It shouldn't be as tough a job as it actually ended up being. "And, I really could… you know."
"Yeah, I know you could, and that's why we're not going down that road." Dean said and looked at him. "I don't want us being… monsters, Sam. "
That hit a sore point with him, and when he met Dean's eye he knew it was meant to. He'd deliberately tugged on that nerve and it hit the bull's-eye. Better dead than a monster. Better anything than that.
"We're going with them. It's the only way to clear our name. And that's pretty much all we have left," Dean said. "Like it or not, Chuck has authority now and these guys know where he is so… " He shrugged. "Guess we catch some more sleep."
"I guess." Sam didn't like it. Their experiences of trusting other people didn't have a good track record. "I don't know if we can trust them to see the truth."
"Then we'll run, but we might as well have an escort now, otherwise we're going to be watching our backs for the rest of our lives," Dean replied. "That's not what I wanted for you…or Cas."
Castiel looked at him with a faint look of surprise to be included in Dean's statement, but Sam didn't miss the deliberate omission of himself that Dean made. He knew what that meant, but he still didn't know how to fight it. He had access to his power again, and it was his this time, not some demon blood mockery, and he fizzed with the possibilities that he could just fix things somehow.
The obvious thing at the moment was he just wasn't going to get that chance right now because Dean was turning over and settling down again so he did the same. Castiel was…being Castiel, watching them both.
"Sam?" Dean said after he'd spent a few minutes listening to the rain lashing the windows.
"Yeah, Dean?" he answered.
"Sweet Dreams. That's an order."
It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but Dean wasn't without some degree of uncertainty about what he had suggested as a plan. He was worried about Sam, because no way in hell was the glowing golden eyes -- not yellow, he was adamant that they weren't yellow -- were a sign that he'd gone back to normal. He remembered that yellow shade exactly from when Azazel was in his father's body ripping his insides around and from when he'd stared the sonuvabitch in the eye and shot him with the Colt, and Sam was nothing like that.
Dean wasn't sure he was that normal anymore either. Swords appearing out of nowhere, sharing his brother's dreams (which was frankly more than a bit suspect and skeevy), even the equivalent of fucking psychosomatic injuries as Sam couldn't seem to stop thinking of him as some sort of sacrificial victim. It really wasn't helpful, and even Cas was looking at them both a bit funnily as they were 'escorted' to wherever Chuck's merry band was hiding.
Truth was, Dean knew he was taking a gamble. If they ran now, they would be running all their lives from both sides. Left over demons, angels, whatever, and any other folks who would end up spitting when they said the name Winchester, or say their nightly prayers calling upon the Almighty to protect them from the unholy Winchester trinity of John, Sam and Dean. If they stayed, they needed to avoid the whole lynching thing by revealing exactly what had happened after that battle, because right now it still looked like they were instrumental in not just bringing down damnation on their world, but all worlds as well.
Like he needed more guilt.
He kept waiting, almost bracing himself for Sam's next vision, but in this whole journey, nothing.
"We're here," Harris said gesturing to them all to get out. "I'm warning you, one wrong move…"
"Yeah, yeah. Let's just go." Sam's impatience was palpable, and Dean needed him to play it calmly. He tried to give him a look, but Sam was already distracted by the sights and smells of a group of humanity living together. He could smell something cooking, wood smoke like someone was having a cook out. Coffee, he could smell that and fresh bread... nothing could replace that scent. It was incredible, people could just find ways to carry on living and find normality even at the end of the world. There were even dogs running up to meet them yapping hopefully, wagging their tails and not taking guard duty that seriously.
Cas just got out of the car looking more perplexed than anything about the way they were being treated. Dean was pretty sure that the hunters didn't believe he was an actual angel, if only because he wasn't doing anything particularly angelic aside from sitting there with that superhuman stillness and attention.
"Chill, dude," he said to his brother as they stepped out of the car. "Chuck'll sort it out."
"I hope so." There was an undercurrent of he'd better, because it was a stupid plan. And maybe it was, but it was the best way Dean had to approach it. He didn't want to spend the rest of the apocalypse looking over his shoulder; he wanted Sam and the others to have some sort of life that didn't involve being public enemy number one.
There was a welcoming committee of hunters he recognized, and curious bystanders. It was just their luck that Gordon Walker and Kubrik were there, and if anything he was willing to bet they were behind this hunting party.
"Harris! What the hell are you doing bringing them back here?" Walker bellowed out, leveling a shotgun at them all. Wow, he was really pissed and Dean could see he wasn't messing around. Harris might as well have dumped six-foot rattlesnakes in front of him, the way he was looking at the three of them. Problem was, he wasn't sure he would be any different if roles were reversed. Who the hell would want the guys last seen raising Lucifer and starting the apocalypse in their back yard?
"Hey, we're here to see Chuck." Sam stepped forward, hands at a mid-point towards heading up in the air. At least he wasn't glowing or anything anymore, he just looked a bit shaggy and worn around the edges but that was hardly surprising.
"I bet you are," Walker replied, almost spitting the words out and Dean could understand a little bit of his hatred as Sam had decapitated him the last time they had crossed paths. He figured that might not make him particularly well disposed to the Winchester brothers.
"Come to finish the job," Kubrik said and he was as old and crazy as ever, his crucifix displayed proudly and Dean was willing to bet he was on a hair trigger to throw holy water over them all. "Told ya he was the anti-Christ. "
The crowd stirred uneasily, and Dean couldn't really blame them. If it weren't obvious from their proudly displayed Chuckville sign, these people were clinging to the prophet as a means of making sense of this whole thing. Any threat to him was likely to get them lynched or burned at the stake and he wasn't looking for that right now.
"Hey, Chuck and us, we go way back," Dean said as charmingly as he could manage considering they were surrounded by people pointing guns at them. "We wouldn't hurt the guy."
"He knows us," Sam agreed, still standing warily. "We just want to talk to him." And then see where things went from there.
"We know he knows you, and for some reason he wants to see the best in you. But he hasn't been able to See anything that doesn't convince us that you two were responsible for the apocalypse, starting, finishing or whatever," Walker said with a definite accusing tone in his voice. "Give me one reason why I don't shoot you here and now."
"Because that's not going to help. We came here willingly, okay?" Dean said. "We haven't caused trouble."
"We could have," Sam added, which Dean guessed he was entitled to do and probably needed to be said just to prove the point, "but we don't want to. We're just here to see Chuck." And they sort of were responsible. They'd let Lucifer do his crazy Omega shit. Dean was beginning to think they were the masters of being too little, too late.
"No way in hell," Gordon replied and looked about ready to fire, finger flexing over the trigger of his gun.
"You do that, Gordon, and Chuck will have you thrown out," a voice said, and Jo stepped into view. "Hey, Sam, Dean."
Jo. For some reason he wasn't expecting her and he gaped for far too long before he pulled himself together enough to reply. "Uh, hey Jo."
"Jo!" Sam startled forward, like he wanted to rush her but he was half-aware of Gordon still training the gun on them all. "It's good to see you! Who else is here...? Is your mom okay?"
"She's not here, but we've got Pamela and.." She glanced over at Dean. "Bella."
"Bella?" Dean couldn't help himself. No matter what Cas said about inevitability, destiny and purpose, the niggling thought remained that hey, if Bella hadn't sold the Colt, he could've avoided this whole goddamn mess. "That bitch... where is she?"
Castiel put his hand on his shoulder stopping in his tracks. He had a grip like a damn mountain landing on his shoulder.
"Dean, this is not a time for further confrontation." He murmured it low, and while it didn't make Dean want to punch Bella out any less, he could wait on it. For a few seconds.
"Pamela came back?" Sam seemed a little happy, a little confused.
"Lazarus dead all over. Lot of them familiar faces to you guys," Jo said folding her arms. "Chuck's on his way, I just thought I'd come over and make sure these guys don't break the rules of no fighting or killing within the perimeter."
That was useful to know. Dean half grinned a bit at Jo, who was looking pretty good truth be told, and was about to say something when she said.
"That goes for you two as well. No killing."
"Hey, we're just here to see Chuck and... you guys are the first sign of humanity we've seen." Because neither of them wanted to count Cas, and Dean wasn't sure either of them needed to be counting themselves, either.
He was trying to be pleasant and charming, but there was an edge of grimness to most of the survivors crowding around.
"So uh, has Chuck said anything about us?" he asked hopefully.
"Not really," Jo said. "We know about the lead up, but he hasn't said anything about the very end there."
Dammit.
"Look, we're still sort of piecing together what happened ourselves," Sam said slowly. "But we're here to try to figure out exactly what happened and what we can do now that things have changed."
Dean became aware of a muttering around them, and he was starting to get the feeling this had been a monumentally bad idea even as he saw a familiar figure... two familiar figures coming towards them, and standing pretty damn intimately close.
"Chuck and Pamela?" he said looking over at Sam. "Did not see that one coming."
"Hey Sam, Dean, glad you got here," Chuck said pleasantly enough. "We've been waiting until you got here."
"Waiting for...?" Sam threw a big smile while Dean just hoped that they hadn't been waiting to hold a big bonfire, because they'd just gotten Castiel out of one.
"So we can get to South Dakota," Chuck replied while Pamela was staring at Castiel, peering over her shades and Dean could catch a glimpse of silvery weird eyes not the black burnt out pits he had flinched from. She'd obviously come back different as well.
"You know, I think I prefer you like this," she said to the angel. "Not burning out my eyeballs."
"He really is an angel?" Harris asked, looking a little horrified. Not surprising, really, considering they purported to be religious and had been talking shit about them for the last few days.
"Yes." Castiel stepped forward from behind Dean, which made him seem less like the Angel in their pocket. "Though the battle took much from me."
"More the whole capturing by Lucifer and subsequent torture," Dean said figuring a bit of sympathy would do more than protestations.
"I can see that," Pamela replied, pushing her shades back on. "Guess what goes around comes around, huh?"
"So, look we've got a problem," Chuck said talking to them both. "Jury's still out on exactly what happened -- I've got up to the last vision by Sam... pretty cool, Sam, by the way, but we've gotta keep you around until we know for sure. But no one is going to hurt you. By my order."
"Great." It didn't feel like trust, at all, and Sam turned to Dean with a look that screamed 'are you fucking kidding me', because they couldn't really expect them to hang around if they expected to be lynched by the end as the scapegoats for it all, especially when Chuck sounded like he couldn't order a pizza let alone make commands that could save lives.
"We'll stay. But if someone comes at us, we're not going to be turning the other cheek." Dean warned him. He didn't want any of them having to stand there as convenient punching bags.
"Don't worry, guys, I reckon we're going to find out pretty soon, then I'll read it to everyone. Then they'll know it's the truth," Chuck assured them as if it was that easy. "You get that, everybody? No one is to hurt any of them, and if someone goes after Sam, Dean or Castiel, don't come crying to me if they kick you on your butt."
A confused, tight expression crossed over Castiel's face, and Sam cupped his shoulder briefly. "Just leave it to us if anything happens."
"This is not right that they should treat you with such suspicion," Castiel said. "Do they not know what you have done for them?"
"I reckon they think they do," Dean said. After all the time Castiel had spent with them, he was still amazed at how naive he could be about human nature. "And that's the problem. You know? I'm not even going to try and change their minds. Chuck'll do that. Let's see if we can get some decent food. Sam's cooking sucks."
"Here's an idea: you could learn to cook if you're going to complain about it." Dean caught himself grinning when Sammy griped, and he slapped his shoulder. Fresh bread, seriously…they should be able to score some of that.
"Jo will show you our set up," Chuck said. "I've got some writing to do, but I'll see you guys later."
Dean nodded even as Jo approached with a faint smirk. "Come on guys. Got a few people who you might be interested in seeing again. And wait until I tell you about Ash and Bella..."
"Ash and Bella?" He caught the linking of the names there and hell, it was worth walking into the lion's den just to hear about that. Even as they followed Jo, he had a smirk that refused to leave his expression.
It was funny how the extraordinary soon developed its own version of mundane tedium. Here they were, survivors of the end days, their groups swelling with every area they passed through and they already had a routine. Mary and a few hunters they picked up around the way would scout around the route ahead, finding areas of Hell or Heaven and figuring a clear route for the others. They had people guarding the back of the convoy, leaving signs pointing towards South Dakota, they had groups under guard scavenging supplies or going to fetch people Missouri could sense. Mary was reminded a little of the old series Wagon Train, and how it was like a mobile town, full of its own dramas and humanity.
She'd been getting to know a lot more about her sons and her husband since Jess and Ellen had arrived, and Jessica was turning out to have good instincts and reflexes and most of all an open mind. That was essential to making a good hunter. She listened to her stories of Sam at Stanford, feeling a surge of hope and joy that he had done what she had so desperately wanted and gotten out. Done good as well, and privately decided that yes, Jessica was daughter-in-law material. She'd been a bit shocky to start with, Ellen had said to her privately, a bit distant and vague but when the chips were down, she snapped into focus and saved lives. Didn't shirk from taking action either.
Mary had enough of her parents in her to hold that up as a marker of whether she was worthwhile or not.
Ellen had been a little evasive with her, right up to the point that Missouri had casually dropped into conversation that, "It ain't adultery when a wife's dead. Men and women have needs that don't go away because a partner ain't there."
From that she correctly deduced that Ellen had slept with John, maybe more than once and if she was jealous, it wasn't because she had done something wrong, but because it was something she should've had time to experience everything she heard about. From Ellen she coaxed out stories around one of the many watch fires that they set when the nights were cold and clear. She learned about how John Winchester who came past the Roadhouse regularly, telling stories to her daughter, hunting with her husband. She learned how her husband became a big name among the hunters, him and his boys.
Her boys. Every time, she mentally changed it to her boys.
Her clearest memories were of a precocious four year old Dean, who was into everything, made her laugh with his observations, idolized his father and was not too old to hug his mom, and was very excited about being a big brother to her beautiful baby Sam. It was hard to reconcile that with stories of how the Winchesters had cleared out a nest of vampires on their own, tackled shadow demons, evil spirits that would've made her dad raise his eyebrows and be grudgingly impressed.
Her boys, her husband, had become bigger names in the world she had forsaken than Sam and Deana Campbell had ever been. They were legends, and she was the mother of legends, and she didn't know what to feel about that. She'd never wanted that for them, and any pride was tinged with dismay and a growing sense of anger.
"Mary, girl." Missouri came and sat beside her staring into the fire. "You haven't come down to the main camp for a few nights. You're brooding."
"You know, Missouri, so what if I am?" Mary said, staring at the flames. The nights held a chill, now and huddling around a campfire alone was a cold isolated experience. "I've been hearing things about my family that I… I don't know what to do with. It's not like I can ask anyone about it. I'm trying to understand that my husband… Sam and Dean grew up even more immersed than I did, and I know what that felt like. The hunts, the injuries? Who looked after them when John was hunting? Who looked after any of them? Shouldn't hunt alone, that's a short trip to an early grave."
"John did the best he could," Missouri said in a low voice. "He saved a lot of people. They all did, honey."
"But my sons, Sammy, Dean…" She shook her head, not knowing how to express the shock she felt.
"Are they a disappointment to you, Mary?" Missouri asked. "You're thinking of the children you knew."
"I don't know them anymore, do I?" Mary said after a long pause in a low voice.
"No, honey, you don't. But that don't mean they're not people worth knowing," Missouri said. She exhaled. "Let me tell you a little bit about them. John came to me after your murder, Mary, and he was broken, broken into pieces, because he was used to fighting and protecting and didn't get that there were things out there he didn't know how to fight. He came looking for answers and all I could give him was more questions and a choice of paths to travel."
"But Dean and Sam didn't have that choice," Mary interrupted. "Did they?"
"No, honey, they didn't. Dean…" The psychic sighed. "Dean is proof that even with Sight such as mine, I can get it wrong. When they came to see me, all grown up, I looked at Dean and I could feel recklessness and death on him. I was hard on him, Mary, harder than maybe I should've been. I was seeing a deal with the devil and foolishly I thought only those with selfish intent would do that. "
Mary flushed, thinking of her own deal. "I… I…"
"Sweetheart, like I said, I was wrong. I was so focused on the power that I could feel coming from Sam, I overlooked Dean." Missouri said. "The strength in that boy, whew…" She shook her head. "Dean has a different kind to Sam, but just as special. You need to be proud of them, Mary, because Sam and Dean have done so many impossible things, but a word from you… would finish them both."
Mary contemplated, that mulling it over. "I can't help feeling angry, but I'm not sure why."
Missouri chuckled. "Oh that's easy. Time stolen and not returned, a life missed, dreams overlooked. You never got to say goodbye to that four year old or six month old and you resent the men who replace them, just as surely as if they took them away personally. You want to blame someone, and John…well, maybe there's some blame to cast there, but he did what he could for the man he was."
Mary poked at the fire, sending sparks tumbling to the sky. It was true enough. She wanted her life back, needed her life back and what she had was this at the end of the world. That was what was left. "I love them, Missouri, but…"
"It's all natural, Mary," Missouri said comfortingly. "There will be a lot of this. A lot of separated souls find their way together, reconcilin'. As a spirit, you loved them. You love them now, if only you could see it."
She nodded slightly, understanding in her mind but needing a little longer for that to reach her heart because underneath the anger was… guilt.
"I left them," she whispered. "I'm angry at myself, Missouri."
Missouri nodded as if she had been waiting for that. "It's something that people don't realize about the veil," she said. "Just as much a bereavement for the ones who died, as them who's left behind. Makes it easy for most to move on, all that seein' their loved ones grieve and being unable to touch and comfort. You will see them again. We're nearly there, after all."
Mary nodded again and continued poking at the fire, making flame patterns and pictures in the darkness. The only thing she could think of was… What then?
Dean and Sam had changed, anyone with half an eye could see that.
Jo found herself watching them from across the campfire, always set apart a little from the rest of the encampment, with Castiel just sitting and watching, watching watching. That's all the angel seemed to do, and at first she thought that he was protecting the Winchesters but the pair of them appeared to be sheltering the angel as much as he was looking after them. She wondered what the hell that was all about.
There were plenty of mutterings in the camp and she knew the pair of them weren't stupid, because stupid hunters died pretty damn quick. They had to be hearing the words spoken behind their backs, in nervous jokes and gossip that range from the malicious to the downright ridiculous. The Winchester Gospels were never seen being read in public, but all of a sudden everyone seemed to know about them, read bits that they would admit to in hushed tones. She'd been surprised to find herself in a couple of the books and it was with a sort of horrified fascination she had seen her almost adolescent behavior laid out in front of her, complete with inappropriate crush and then Dean's own feelings flung out for all to see. It was disappointing, but a rush to see it there on the well dog-eared page.
Dean felt for her, but not in a way that she wanted him to, although maybe if they'd given it a chance something might've sparked off. There were handwritten copies, painstakingly scribed of the 'gospels' that had been unpublished and Jo had grimaced as she saw page after page of people she knew being pawns in a much bigger game and being screwed over in ways she would never have believed possible.
And still the mobile town of Chuckville didn't know the answer to the question that was behind every campfire discussion and debate… Were the Winchesters the good guys or the bad guys?
"You know, even if you keep watching him like that, his clothes aren't going to fall off," Bella said right behind her, nearly making her jump out of her skin.
"I thought you were keeping a low profile?" Jo said leaning back away from the corner where she had been watching Sam, Dean, and Castiel.
"Oh please, Sam's asleep again," Bella dismissed. "Dean doesn't move when that happens and Sam sure as hell sleeps a lot. The angel? Hardly at all. It's creepy in a sort of obsessive stalker way. Something's wrong with them. Dean should be out there trying to shag anything that moves."
"It's not like they've got many friends here," Jo said, rolling her eyes a little. "Kubrick thinks he has it all sorted out. "
"Yes, well, Kubrick still thinks Revelations wasn't written by someone high on magic mushrooms." Bella dismissed his opinion just like that.
"Considering you're living in the aftermath of the apocalypse and following one of God's prophets, it's a little rich to criticize the original prophecy," Jo answered, and decided that if Bella had noticed she was watching, Dean definitely would've done and she had the choice of heading over or walking off before Dean confronted her on it. He was currently petting one of the dogs that seemed to love Sam and Dean, and she felt rightly or wrongly that that was a good sign. "I'm going over to see him. You coming? They did promise not to kill anybody."
Bella considered this. "You know perhaps we should clear the air. It's a bit difficult to avoid talking about it with Ash. I'm sure he thinks I had some sort of torrid affair with Dean."
"Yeah, I bet you let him believe that too," Jo said heading towards the brothers.
"You know what they say, treat 'em mean, keep them…"
"...coming after you with a shotgun?" Jo suggested, as the dog currently schmoozing up to Dean hruffed at them. "Hey, Dean, Sam asleep again?"
Dean looked up at her, looking uncomfortable and Jo was struck at how his eyes looked bruised with tiredness and the lines of his face tight with some sort of pain. She'd become so used to seeing him like that she hadn't connected it with a consequence.
"Yeah. He needs more beauty sleep than I do," he replied. He looked at Bella and Jo had half been expecting fireworks from Dean because Bella had played her part in sending him off to Hell. Bella certainly seemed to be bracing herself for some sort of reaction but Dean barely acknowledged her presence, glancing anxiously at Sam instead.
"Oh, I don't know macho man, I think you could do with a bit of buff and polish," Bella said throwing out a gambit which Dean singularly failed to pick up. "Seen you look better."
"Yeah well, the apocalypse has done wonders for you," Dean said flatly, finally looking back at her. "Welcome back from Hell, bitch."
It was a bit half hearted, though, and Jo sat down. "You okay, Dean?" she asked lowering her voice instinctively. "You don't seem… right."
"There has been much persecution since they have stayed here," Castiel spoke up suddenly, nearly making them jump. "This is not a good time to talk to Dean."
She noticed the way the pair of them both glanced at Sam and said. "You don't seem to be doing anything, so I thought it would be a good time…"
"Then you thought wrong," Castiel said in a voice that brooked no argument but unfortunately, Bella never took a hint.
"Oh, don't you have the adorable little man-crush," she cooed at Castiel. "All tall dark and intense staring eyes… You don't have to be jealous of me."
Jo sighed. "Bella, stop trying to play with the angel's head," she said even as Dean closed his eyes, just a moment, no doubt trying to find the strength not to kill the other woman. "Look, Dean, if you need a doctor, we've got a few here with medical training."
Dean gave a sound that couldn't really be called a laugh. "This ain't something a doctor can deal with."
"You know, you are not nearly good at acting as you think you are," Bella said. "Everyone can see that you've had an injury. I'm surprised there's not vultures circling overhead."
Dean glared at her. "Oh, I don't know. You wouldn't be sitting there if you knew what I was thinking."
"The point is you haven't done anything," she said. "You're not the type. You know your problem, you're a good guy."
"Oh you have no idea how bad I can be," Dean replied and Jo met his eyes and saw something she couldn't even fathom in them. She'd never thought Dean hated himself before, but right now she wasn't sure because there it was, plain as day. She suddenly realized that actually, the Winchester brothers had come so easily into the lion's den simply because they really didn't know if they needed to be punished or not.
"Oh, the demons used to tell stories about you, how good you were... quite the little protégé," Bella said airily, and Dean moved then and had his hand around her throat so fast she'd forgotten that he used to move like that all the time.
For a heart stopping moment, Jo thought Bella had finally pushed someone too far.
"Dean!" She belatedly called his name, and he looked like he was just going to snap.
It also looked like he had to tear his hand away, but he did. "Fuck you, Bella. You don't know what you're talking about."
"Really?" She rubbed her throat looking more astonished that he had let go more than anything. "I was in Hell, too, you know. It was no picnic for me either and some of us didn't have the legions of Heaven coming after us." She looked over at Castiel with a sly smile. "You want to 'raise me from perdition', as well? You shouted that loud enough for all of Hell to hear. Shame you were a bit late to the party. Anyone would think that your campaign suffered mysterious setbacks…"
Castiel looked at her sharply. "What do you mean?"
"Oh, come on, you can't be that naïve. You know that Heaven was in on the whole thing. You really think the demons would've given you that much trouble if they weren't getting information from somewhere?" Bella said smirking. "Face it, you were all screwed."
"Then, why do you seem so happy about it?" Jo asked, not liking Dean's expression. It wasn't news to him at least but now Castiel was looking stricken.
"Many of my brothers died breaching the walls of Hell," he said in a low voice.
"Get used to things not being fair, if you're going to hang out in the world," Bella said with venom beyond her usual prickling banter.
Jo had had enough. "Bella, what the hell are you doing?" The other woman seemed to be taking a delight in hitting Dean and the angel's vulnerable points. "Are you trying to piss them off? What've they done to deserve it?"
"Start the Apocalypse? How about that?" Bella snapped back.
"No, it's not that. This is something personal," Jo pushed, because there was a personal obsession lurking under Bella's words and actions.
"Fine. Fine then, you want to know?" Bella said with a flashing looking in her eyes as she glared at Castiel and then Dean. "They saved him. They fought their way down into Hell, and they left all the rest of us behind! We all heard it, we saw it… Do you know what it was like to see someone rescued and then…then be left to suffer the fury of their fear and bitterness afterward? You knew exactly what it was like and left me in Hell, you bastard!"
Jo never thought in a million years that Bella would actually hit Dean but she did, with a whip crack slap across the face. She got there quick enough to stop a follow up, but Dean had toppled over, rocked by the blow and… he wasn't getting up again. He was clutching at his side and… shit, there was blood there, but they were ignoring Bella completely.
"Shit, shit, fuck…" Dean was looking even more shitty than before. "Cas… it's happening."
"I know, Dean." Castiel was moving to support him, reaching for something, a fresh dressing to press against Dean's side.
"What? What happened?" Jo asked leaning forward. She saw Bella about to open her mouth again and was filled with a cold hard rage. "Bella, I swear to god, you open your mouth and I will shut you up permanently." Her gun twitched in her hand and she was really close to pulling the trigger.
"Jo…" Dean's voice was rough with pain and hell, the last time she's heard that tone she'd been digging out a bullet from his shoulder. "Get Chuck, it's gonna happen now. He's having a vision it's… gotta be the last one."
"What?" Jo looked over at Sam and was startled to see an actual ripple of power around his body, shimmering like a heat haze. The air crackled and the tang of ozone flooded the area. The dog next to Dean whimpered and then skittered away, tail between its legs. "Holy crap!"
"Now!" Dean ordered hoarsely and he seemed to fold up in pain even as she scrambled up, heading at a sprint towards Chuck's trailer. She didn't get far before she found Chuck and Pamela already heading towards them, and a whole group of others who she recognized to be talented or have one of the powers in some way.
"Sam's having a vision, and Dean… something's wrong with him," Jo got out hurriedly, trying to get them to move faster.
"We know. " Chuck answered looking shaken. "It's like standing at the epicenter of a Richter 10. Feels like it's building up, too. I wasn't expecting this."
"Winchester has a hell of a kick to him," Pamela added, and Jo realized that the psychics really didn't have all the answers because this was scaring the crap out of them. "No one's going to miss this show."
By the time they reached Dean again there was a crowd there and, fresh blood on Dean's shirt, even as the angel held onto him, presumably trying to use whatever healing he could to keep him conscious.
"What's happening?" Jo asked joining the wary circle. "Why isn't anyone helping him? "
"The angel won't let us," Bella said glancing at her. "All we can do is wait it out."
That wasn't something Jo did very well, but it seemed she had no choice.