Thank you so much Jenjoremy. All the work you do on these chapters is much appreciated. Thank you also Gredelina1 for helping, supporting, and encouraging. Thank you all for reading and reviewing.
Chapter Three
Sam was still desperately praying when Gabriel arrived. Lucifer tore himself out of his own mind to speak to his brother. "What has happened?"
"I was going to ask you the same thing," Gabriel said. "How come we've suddenly got thousands of extra angels hanging around up here? Because I remember us ordering most of the garrisons to protect the earth. What happened to you?"
"I was with Sam," he started.
"Obviously," Gabriel inserted.
"And I felt something drag me away. There was a flash of light, like a banishing, but it felt different. I was dragged here instead of being cast away. When I arrived, it was chaos, and I tried to fly, but my wings are trapped at my back. I can't spread them at all."
"Okay," Gabriel said slowly. "That tallies up with what I've got going on, too. I was already here when things went south. There was an almighty bang like a dinner gong as the gates slammed and then it was like an earthquake was rocking us as everyone started arriving at once."
"What could have done it?" Lucifer asked.
"No idea. We'll have to stick a pin in that question, though, and come back to it when we've sorted the rest of this rodeo. We've got thousands of angels freaking out right now, and we need to find a way to help them."
"Help them?" Lucifer asked. "Tell me you are joking."
"I'm not joking. We have a responsibility, Lucifer, to them all. I need your help to calm them down. It's chaos right now, and it's only a matter of time until that spreads to the souls. We cannot let complete anarchy erupt."
Lucifer laughed harshly. "What do you expect me to do, Gabriel? How can I calm them when I am not calm myself?"
"Fake it till you make it," Gabriel suggested then shook his head. "I don't know, Lucifer. I just know you have to. We are archangels, and like it or not, that means we have to take care of the others and help them."
"You think I care about them?" Lucifer snapped. "I can hear Sam calling to me. He is crying out for me, and I cannot go to him. What do the other angels' needs matter compared to his? He is in pain, Gabriel! He is suffering and scared."
He raised his hands. "I'm sorry, but we have to do what we can. We need to know what is happening if we're going to get out, and one of them might know something. We're not going to get anywhere with them running around like headless chickens."
Lucifer flinched as Sam cried out again, his voice tearing into him. "Sam," he whispered.
"I'm sorry, Lucifer, but at least you can hear him. He is alive. That is cause for celebration."
"The fact I cannot reach him is not," Lucifer bit out.
"I know," Gabriel said. "But you've got to concentrate on controlling what you can. It's the only way you can make it through this, Lucifer."
"And Sam? What will help him get through it?" He was pleading for an answer.
"Dean," Gabriel said. "You're going to have to put your trust in him."
As Gabriel walked away, clearly expecting him to follow, Lucifer shook his head. He couldn't do that.
After a time, Gabriel managed to calm the angels to dull panic instead of outright terror. Lucifer heard him speaking on angel radio, comforting them and reminding them of their responsibilities. He sent them to check the souls in their heavens. His outward reasoning was to make sure they had not lost any of them before the gates slammed closed. Lucifer knew it was just busy work though, given to distract them and give them something to focus on to make them feel useful again. It kept their minds off of their fear.
Gabriel came back to Lucifer where he leaned, forehead pressed against the gates. He didn't try to persuade Lucifer to help, he merely stood with him. Lucifer suspected he was trying to offer comfort with his presence. It wasn't working though. Lucifer had not felt this way since he had been forced to go back to the Cage alone, leaving Sam behind, to avoid the battle with Michael.
Time passed of nothing and then Lucifer heard a cry of pain. He looked up at Gabriel and saw he looked just as confused. The cry came again, agitating and upsetting.
"What is it?" he asked.
"I don't…" Gabriel's eyes widened. "Look!"
Lucifer followed his gaze and saw he was staring through the bars of the gate. There was light out there, in the mist of the veil. It was approaching close enough to touch the gate and then propelling away again.
"It's a soul," he whispered.
Gabriel gasped. "It can't get in!"
The soul rushed at the gates again and was forced back. The sight was sickening, the desperation and confusion it radiated as it tried and failed to reach its eternal resting place.
Lucifer turned away from the sight. "The gates are closed to souls as well," he said darkly.
"Yes!" Gabriel said, "And you know what that means? They are all going to be trapped in the Veil. There will be millions of vengeful spirits created. The Veil will be in chaos!" He stared past Lucifer. "There are more."
Lucifer forced himself to look back and saw the new souls arriving. They made the same attempt to enter and were repelled. He couldn't watch. It was twisted and wrong; those souls deserved peace.
He saw an angel approaching, and he tried to ignore the sounds of distressed souls behind him.
"Gabriel, Lucifer," she said. "There is something wrong."
Lucifer snorted in spite of himself. That was possibly the biggest understatement he had ever heard.
"What is it, Rachel?" Gabriel asked.
"It is Castiel. We cannot find him."
Lucifer straightened. "What do you mean?"
"No one has seen him since before it happened."
"He was going to check the demon signs," Lucifer said quietly. "Did anyone speak to him?"
"No one I have asked. I have checked his preferred heaven, but there is no sign of him there at all, and he is not answering me on angel radio. I don't think he is here."
"Do you think he could have been killed?" Gabriel asked carefully.
Lucifer shook his head briskly. "No. Castiel is a powerful warrior. No mere demon could have beaten him."
"Some of them have angel blades since the time of the Leviathans rising," Gabriel said. "It's possible."
"No!" he said roughly. He didn't want to think it even. "He is here. It's chaos, impossible to find any one angel in the melee. We must find him." He closed his eyes and address angel radio, knowing his voice would be heard in every trapped angel's mind. "Castiel is missing. You will find him now. Search everywhere. Bring him to me when he is found."
This was something he could do as it served Sam as well as himself. He needed to find his friend, Sam's friend, as that was something he could control. For the first time he pushed Sam from his thoughts and concentrated on something else.
Finding Castiel.
Crowley had a problem. He didn't like problems, he liked solutions. Problems were annoying and got in the way of enjoying a perfectly good massage.
"Sire," the demon said querulously. "May I speak with you?"
"Can't it wait…" He grappled for the name. "Ambrose?"
"Actually, it's Robert, sire. And I think you'll want to hear this."
Crowley sighed and rolled off the massage table. He wrapped a robe around himself and collapsed onto the plush chair in the corner. He waved a hand at the terrified looking masseuse and she scurried from the room.
"Talk."
The demon bowed low, as if he was going to offer obeisance by kissing Crowley's ring. Actually, that wasn't a bad idea. He could get a ring. A nice one. Something with a big gaudy stone. He quite liked the idea in fact.
"Myself and some others were in Montana," he said. "Just going about our business, massacring some teens, when we were set upon by an angel."
Crowley shook his head. "You're wrong."
"I'm certain I am not, sire."
"No, you are, because the only angel currently flapping around earth is Metatron, and we're besties."
"I don't know what to tell you, sire. It was definitely an angel; he was in a rather unfortunate looking vessel."
"Squat little toad, curly hair and beard?"
"Yes, sire."
"That does sound like my bestie." Crowley frowned. "Did you do something to annoy him perhaps?"
The demon shrugged. "We were massacring a church group. That's never seemed to bother the angels before though."
"True." Crowley tapped his chin. "How many were lost?"
"Thirteen, sire."
"Unlucky for some," he said with a snort of laughter. "And yet you escaped. How?"
"The angel was distracted beheading Juliet, and I managed to flee."
"Beheading," he said interestedly. "I like his style at least. Okay, Ambrose…"
"Robert, sire," he corrected, and then quickly went on in response to Crowley's dark look, "Or Ambrose. Either is fine."
"I know," Crowley said pointedly. "Well, Ambrose, you are not going to tell anyone else about this, understand?"
"Of course, sire. Whatever you wish."
Crowley waved an airy hand to dismiss him. He didn't take the hint though. He remained standing there with a dumb look on his face.
"Leave," Crowley said, and he backed away obediently and left the room.
"I need smarter demons," he said to the empty room. Truly, the ones he had at the moment were dumb as a box of rocks. Why was it the smart ones ended up in Heaven while he got the idiots? Not that anyone was ending up in Heaven anymore. Metatron had assured him that the gates were firmly shut, keeping new souls out as well as caging the angels in. Which Crowley thought meant he would have access to a better type of departed now. That thought excited him. He could sort through the dregs and work extra hard on the intellects. It might also be fun. He'd also never tortured a potential saint before.
"You can come back now," he called, and his talented masseuse slipped back into the room. He slid the robe from his shoulders and lay down on the table again. "Get to it then."
As he lay there, having his muscles skillfully kneaded, he mulled the problem over in his mind. Perhaps Metatron had taken umbrage at the Christian deaths. He'd been out of the loop for a long time, so he could still hold affection for the devout. Crowley would monitor the situation. If it became a problem, he'd pop in for a chat with the little squit. Until then, he would enjoy the perks of being a king in the truest sense. With no Lucifer breathing down his neck anymore, Crowley was the boss.
Life was good.
Crowley lolled in his throne and waited for his reports. It had been a while since he'd heard them, as he'd been taking a little personal time lately. The throne room was empty and he relished the peace. Demons were famously annoying. They hung onto his every word, of course, and obeyed commands, but so did a well-trained dog.
Time dragged though, and he began to get bored. He wanted some devout service paid to him.
"Ambrose! Here, boy." He laughed at his own wit.
A female demon scuttled into the room, her eyes wide with fear. It wasn't a familiar face, and he guessed it was the first time she had been graced with a king's audience.
"You're not Ambrose. Or Robert," he said. "Where is he?"
"I don't know, sire."
"In that case where is Cuthbert?" he asked.
"I don't know."
"Okay, what about Sybil? Or that one that looks like little orphan Annie? Or the big one?" The first flames of unease began to lick at his chest.
"Sire, I think they've gone. We have been searching, but they don't appear to be anywhere within the pit or topside. There is an almost total lack of demon signs on earth, and no one has seen them below."
"Who's left?" Crowley asked.
"Me, sire. And a few others that are searching topside."
"Why wasn't I told about this?" Crowley growled.
"Forgive me, sire, but you said no interruptions."
Crowley raised an eyebrow. "And none of you thought that the disappearance of my demons was worth interrupting me for?"
"None of us wanted to be killed, sire."
"No one wants that," Crowley said with feigned sympathy. "Come here." The demon edged forward nervously and Crowley stood to meet her. He clapped a fatherly hand on her shoulder and drew her close. "I really should have been told," he said mildly.
""I am sorry, sire. I will not make the mistake again."
"No," Crowley said, as he slid the hilt of an angel blade into her chest. "You won't."
The demon's head flew back and light flared around the wound and on her face. When Crowley released it, the body thudded to the floor.
He knew he had just denied himself another of what was apparently a rapidly dwindling supply of demons, but the little mouse had been next to useless anyway.
Crowley found Metatron watching a show at Circus Circus in Las Vegas. He was sitting forward in his chair, his face mesmerized by the humans performing on trapezes.
"Metatron," Crowley said in what he hoped was a respectful tone.
"Crowley," he said, waving him into a seat. "Come and look at this. Have you ever seen anything like it? It's like they're flying up there. And don't get me started on the high wire. It's incredible. What possessed the first one to try it, I wonder. Were they drunk or merely suicidal?" He shook his head. "Human creativity has come on so much and I didn't realize. I thought the written word was magical—until the last decade that is—but this… it's amazing."
Crowley watched the human swinging back and forth and then release the bar, reaching for another. It was a simple matter of flicking his hand to make the human drop hard to the floor. There was a satisfying crack as it collided, and it immediately stilled.
"I was watching that!" Metatron protested. "That was rude."
Crowley leaned back in his seat, the picture of relaxation. "Some might say decimating my demons is rude, too."
"Ah, you finally noticed, did you? About time too. What kind of king are you? Lucifer would have noticed straight away, even from the Cage."
"I was busy," Crowley lied resentfully. He didn't want to be compared to that do-gooder.
"I'm sure," Metatron said patiently. "You're right though. I have been taking out the trash as it were."
"Why?" Crowley asked.
"They have no place anymore," Metatron said. "They're abominations. The unclean. Ruined manifestations of God's work. When I create the perfect paradise for myself, among select humans, of course, I will want it to be a clean and pleasant place, and demons are neither of those things."
"And yet you failed to mention that when we were plotting against Lucifer and the angels," Crowley bit out.
"Well, yes, I thought you'd be a little less motivated to help had you known. Obviously, I was right. Here you are, all puffed up and deluded with your assumed power."
Crowley's hands fisted. "I am King!"
"Kings have subjects," Metatron said. "You have nothing. Well, almost nothing. I want to catch the evening show and then I'll finish up." He turned away from the chaos on the stage at last and said. "I did you a service, Crowley. You wanted revenge on Lucifer for enslaving you, and I trapped him and every other angel in creation."
"I helped you, too," Crowley growled. "I brought you the saint to bleed, I delivered the Grigori sword. I did what I was supposed to. I even lured that oaf Castiel to New Mexico for you."
"You're right, I couldn't have done it without you. And in return, I am going to do you a favor. You can return to Hell, lord it over the demons that preside over the racks and the souls, and I will leave you alone. I'll let you play with your toys, and in return, you will stay out of my way."
"And if I don't?" Crowley asked.
"Then I will end you, slowly," he threatened. "Now, stay and die, or go. I don't mind which you choose, as long as you're gone. I'm sick of the stink of sulfur."
Crowley glared balefully at him. Metatron moved his hand awkwardly and his blade slid into it.
"Your choice," he said.
With one last hateful look, Crowley disappeared. He knew what he had to do next, and he knew what it would take. Unfortunately, it meant going back to that den of alcoholism and misery—Bobby Singer's house.
He needed the damn Winchesters.
So… Metatron has screwed Crowley over royally, and now he needs help. Good times. Writing Metatron is an experience I've only had a few times before, and not for a while. It was fun to revisit the twisted land of his character.
A version of this Heaven scene was written by Snarkymuch. While I rewrote it completely, there may be some bleed between the two versions.
Until next time…
Clowns or Midgets xxx