"Hello again, Sam. Nice to see you're up again." Lucifer's face leered out of the smoke at him. "Looks like Michael and I get to have some fun with you. Good. Adam needs a rest." Michael appeared from behind his brother and threw a bulky sack at Sam's feet.
Michael smiled viciously. "Happy birthday, Sam."
Sam shifted his feet, untangling them from the bag. When he did, severed body parts began to roll out. Adam's head came to rest right in front of him.
Adam's eyes opened. "Oh god, Sam, it hurts. Please, make them stop!" It begged.
Michael kicked it. "Don't use my Father's name. He has no presence here." He spat. Lucifer chuckled with glee.
Adam's eyes looked accusatorily at Sam. "It's all your fault. If you and Dean had just said yes I could have stayed in Heaven. I would be with my mom. I would be at peace. It's all your fault, Sam."
"No." Sam shook his head violently.
"Oh yes, Sam." Lucifer told him. The angel was playing with a sharp, white-hot knife, cutting into his palm and forearm with the blade. "You know what I've realized?" He asked.
Sam stood silent.
"Sam, you must not forget your manners. When I ask you a question, you answer me. Now, I asked, you know what I've realized?" He stepped closer to Sam.
Sam shook his head slightly.
"I've realized I've lost all ability to feel. But you haven't."
Lucifer took the knife and slashed at Sam. Sam screamed as the blade cut through layers of skin and flesh, exposing his stomach and intestines. The wound sizzled. All Sam could do was scream as Michael joined Lucifer in the vicious attacks, while Adam intoned in the background, just barely audible above his screams, "It's all your fault."
Sam sat straight up, the end of a screaming lingering on his lips. He gasped for air, looking around. He was at Bobby's, sleeping on the couch. The past few days came crashing down on him.
"You okay there, Sam?" Dean was sitting in a chair next to the sofa. His face was expressionless.
"Uh, yeah. Just had a bad dream."
"The usual?" Dean's voice was steady, flat. He knew the answer.
"Yeah." Sam lied.
Dean sighed. "You really shouldn't lie to me, Sam."
"He's right, you know." Michael stepped out of a darkened corner.
"Lying to your brother is just rude." Lucifer emerged opposite Michael.
Sam closed his eyes and counted to ten. When he opened them the hallucinations were gone.
"Sam?" Dean asked, concern piercing his mask.
"Yeah, sorry. I'm fine. It was just a bad dream."
"About the cage." Dean wasn't asking.
Sam sighed. "Yeah, about the cage. Can you blame me?"
"No. Just don't lie to me. I'll know if you are lying to me." He paused. "What was it about?"
"The cage."
Dean understood what he meant. Hell was no picnic, and the cage was probably worse. "Was Adam there?"
"He always is."
"Sorry." Dean said. "But it's all staying behind your eyelids, right?"
"Of course." Sam insisted.
Dean nodded. He was skeptical, but he let his brother get away without any more questions. "Good."
Sam nodded. "What time is it?"
"Five A.M."
"I'll go make us some breakfast."
"Good idea. Bobby'll be up soon. After the waterworks yesterday he's gonna be a hungry, hungry hippo." Dean smirked at his own joke.
"More like I could eat one of those hippos." Bobby came down the stairs.
"Told ya." Dean said.
"What's all the ruckus?" Mae was standing at the top of the stairs. When Bobby saw her, he lit up. She was wearing flannel pajama bottoms and a loose-fitting shirt. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes.
"I was just gonna make us some breakfast." Sam smiled weakly at her. Despite all his problems, he felt bad for Mae. He knew she was going to have a hard time readjusting. And what she went through – he wouldn't wish that on his worst enemy.
She smiled back. "Sounds delicious. Demons aren't exactly known for making sure we get fed on a regular basis."
Gabriel appeared at the base of the stairs, chewing on a candy bar. "Lovely to see you up and about. And less black-eyed."
"Lovely to be up and about. And less black-eyed." Mae traipsed down the stairs. Gabriel offered her his hand, which was covered in chocolate. "How many of those do you eat?" She was slightly repulsed.
"What? This is only my fifth!"
Mae shook her head and followed Sam into the kitchen to help him cook. Soon the smell of bacon and eggs and pancakes came wafting from the other room.
Bobby went to take a shower while Dean decided to change into some cleaner clothes. Fifteen minutes later they were all gathered around the rickety old table. They had hauled chairs from the living room in, and people sat with their plates perched on their knees. It was all very warm and homey.
"Here." Bobby handed Mae the jar of peanut butter.
She giggled. "You remembered." She unscrewed the lid and began spreading the chunky peanut butter over her pancakes.
"Ew." Dean said.
Mae rolled her eyes and started to pour syrup over the stack. "It's quite good." She told him.
"Yeah no thanks, sweetheart." Dean waved his hand at her dismissively.
She glared at him. "Don't call me sweetheart."
"Okay then, honey bunches of oats." Dean tried.
"Look," Mae said diplomatically, "How about we finish breakfast before I'm forced to seriously hurt you."
"Bring it on, cupcake."
Mae chose to ignore him. Instead, she looked at Bobby. "I'm going to need to disguise myself." She told him.
"What do you mean?" he asked around his mouthful of eggs.
"If a demon sees me and recognizes me, I'm screwed. They'll come after me and repossess me. I'd rather not run that risk. I was thinking I could cut my hair and dye it. It wouldn't be the best disguise ever, but it would be better than running around looking exactly like I did when I was possessed."
"Yeah you're right. We do tend to run into a lot of demons in our line of work."
"You'd make a good redhead." Gabriel told her. He had smothered his entire plate in syrup. Even his eggs were swimming in it.
She shrugged. "I'm not that particular. Just as long as it's different."
They sat in silence, eating their breakfast.
"I noticed something last night." Bobby said as he carried his empty plate to the sink.
"What's that?" Sam asked.
"Mae's been appearing in some of the photos around the house. The one on my nightstand used to just be a picture of me, but a little Mae was on my shoulders when I went to bed last night."
Sam smiled. "It's good to see you happy again, Bobby. I'm glad you have some family now."
Bobby looked over at Sam. "I've had a family ever since you boys showed up on my doorstep. Don't you ever forget that, boy." He glanced over his shoulder at Mae. "But it is nice to still have a little bit of Karen in my life, even though she's gone." He looked back at Sam. "She looks just like Karen when she smiles."
"I know, Bobby." Sam patted him on his shoulder. "I know."
Sam and Bobby returned to the figures huddled around the table.
"Now what?" Gabriel asked.
"Well I'd assume you need to stop Castiel." Mae replied.
Dean looked perplexed. "How do you know about Cas?"
"The demon knew, so I know."
"Makes sense." Bobby nodded. "Did you boys find anything about the book at the warehouse?"
"If it was there it was under some sort of invisibility spell." Dean shrugged. "What about you?" he asked Mae.
She shook her head. "The demon was there out of idle curiosity, he wasn't looking for anything."
"What book are we talking about?" Gabriel asked.
Sam sighed, "It's supposed to help us get the souls out of Cas. But now we have nothing to go on: no leads, no clues, not even a suggestion. I guess that's it."
Gabriel's brows knit together. "Tell me more about it."
Bobby took over. "It's a book of exorcisms written in ancient Sumerian. Apparently it contains some of the most powerful spells ever written."
"If it's a Sumerian spell book it certainly would."
"How's that?"
"Well, even Latin is a corruption of other languages. Sumerian is one of the oldest languages ever spoken. The words haven't gone through so many translations as to have lost their power, so even now they retain that power." Gabriel made another candy bar appear and bit into it.
Sam and Bobby nodded; Mae and Dean sat blankly.
"Language is powerful," Gabriel expanded, "And Enochian is the purest language, therefore it is the most powerful. Sumerian was one of the original languages directly descended from Enochian, so it still retains much of that power. If you were to try the same spell in, let's say Enochian, Sumerian, Latin, and English, the spell effect from the Enochian would be the most powerful, followed by the Sumerian. The Latin spell would only work on minor demons, and the English? Well, you'd be lucky if the English spell gave the damn thing a mild case of the hiccoughs."
"I knew that." Dean said, looking over at Mae. She rolled her eyes in disgust.
Sam guffawed. His brother was always trying to impress people.
"Stop screwing around." Mae scolded him. She looked back at Gabriel. "Continue. Please." A soft pink rose in her cheeks when she forgot her manners.
"This book sounds like something Raphael would know about. He always had a passing interest in human spells."
Crowley appeared behind Bobby's chair. Mae's eyes grew wide and she gripped the edge of the table with white knuckles.
"Please don't flatter yourself, darling," he looked at her. "I'm not here for you. I'm here about Moloch."
"Moloch?" Dean exclaimed.
"Yes, Moloch, you hairless orangutan." Crowley replied.
Gabriel moved to stand behind Mae as Crowley used his handkerchief to wipe blood off his face. "Say your piece and be off, Crowley."
"Gabriel! Good to see you up and about. We're going to need you."
"We?" Sam growled.
"Yes we." Crowley cocked his head to the side. "For a moose you've made a miraculous recovery." Crowley remarked.
"Why would we join with you?" Bobby asked.
Crowley patted Bobby's cheek. "Oh Bobby, Bobby, Bobby. I hate to tell you, but your soul-sucking accountant helped Moloch take Hell from me."
"You mean you're no longer King?" Dean interjected.
"Not any more. And believe me, it's not good to not be king. I barely escaped with my life."
"That doesn't sound like our problem." Dean's eyes flicked to the saltshaker on the table.
"Oh it is. Moloch's not nearly as nice as I am." He jerked his head towards Mae. "She can tell you."
Mae was still frozen in fear, but she managed to move her head up and down a centimeter to indicate her agreement.
"See." Crowley smirked. "Now, if you don't mind I could use a drink. And we could use a plan."
"A plan?" Dean asked.
"A plan. Unless of course you'd rather just barrel into the situation with absolutely no idea what you're doing. You know, what you usually do. Either way you don't want Moloch to be king for any longer than he has to be." Crowley walked over to the liquor cabinet and pulled out a bottle of amber whiskey. "This'll be good." He poured himself a glass.
"So, what, we summon him and gank him?" Sam added.
"Sure. I can summon him, but you'll need to figure out the ganking part."
"Something tells me it's not going to be a matter of shooting him full of iron and salt rounds." Bobby grimaced.
"Of course not." Crowley scoffed. "Well," he sat his glass down on the table and rubbed his hands together, "Shall we?"
"Well I guess it's settled." Bobby said. "Sam, Dean, you two should take the Impala. I'll take Mae in my car."
"Who said I was coming?" Mae asked
"Of course you're coming." Dean replied. "Why wouldn't you be?"
"Maybe because I don't want to?"
"You don't want to? This is your chance to kill the son of a bitch who kidnapped you and made you suffer all those years, and you don't want to come?" Dean was shocked.
"No, I don't. I promised myself if I ever got out I'd go live somewhere in the woods, away from people, away from the monsters, away from the demons, away from everything. I'm not going to risk my neck for a plan that's probably going to backfire and wind up with me back where I started. Possessed." Mae grew angrier with each passing word. Her passion was palpable.
"Look princess, I'm sorry you got hurt, and I'm sorry that your life has sucked for so long, but you need to stop being a selfish little—"
"Dean." Bobby growled.
Dean fell silent, but he still glared angrily at Mae.
"I understand you don't want to do this." Bobby told her. "Honestly, I don't want you to do it either. I don't want to risk losing you again. But let's face it, other than Crowley you're the only one who's ever interacted with Moloch. We need you. After this is over, I promise you can leave. You can go find some solitary mountain and try to stay safe. But keep in mind, when the demons are after you, nowhere is truly safe."
Mae sighed.
"You're going to do it." Gabriel said.
"Of course I am." Mae spat. "But this is it. After we kill Moloch, I'm out." She looked pointedly at Dean.
"Fine." He spoke coldly. "Just don't get in my way. If your prissy-ass gets someone killed, I will kill you myself."
"Oh please." Mae stood. "My prissy-ass could kick your ass in two seconds flat."
Dean scoffed, moving to stand toe-to-toe with her. "Try it. I dare you. I'll have you on the ground before you can blink. Before your fist can even form," he bragged.
Mae glared at her feet, Dean smiling superiorly. Lightening fast, Mae's fist lashed out. She and Dean were a whirl of arms and legs for a moment, but then they froze. Dean was on top of Mae, holding her hands to her stomach. His knees were pressed on her thighs, completely pinning her down.
"Well," she spat at him, "One out of two isn't bad."
With the adrenaline ebbing out of him, Dean felt a dull ache and something warm oozing on his cheek.
"What the – am I bleeding? Sam, am I bleeding?" Dean blurted out.
Sam nodded, pointing at his right cheekbone, just beneath his eye, indicating where Dean was cut.
Dean let Mae go. She jumped right up, but he stood more slowly. He touched his fingers to the cut, and sure enough, they came away wet with blood.
"How the hell did she manage to do that?" he asked the room at large.
"She is standing right here. And she has a name." her voice seeped with venom. Her face softened. "I think it's a side effect of the possession." The three men, angel, and demon looked confused. She expanded. "I was possessed for twenty-six years. During that time I didn't just sit around. Moloch and Azazel and Alastair, they wanted to use us as an elite group of soldiers once the Apocalypse started. So we trained. It may not have been me practicing hand-to-hand combat and swordplay, but it was my body. It got faster, stronger. After a while the memory gets ingrained in your muscle. It's been a while since the demon had to train – it mostly beat on old people and kids after it was released. So my body's gotten slower, and a little less strong, but I could still kick most people's ass." She smirked at the last line.
"Wait," said Sam. "Did you just say 'swordplay'?" he asked incredulously.
"Yeah," Mae replied. "Neither side has advanced much in terms of weapons since the Middle Ages."
"It's true." Gabriel agreed. "We angels sure do like our phallic symbols."
Crowley chuckled. "Well if you two are quite finished, I believe we have a trap to set up. And Mae needs to get a haircut."
"Right. Anyone here willing to give it a try?" Mae looked unsure about the men around her. She was pretty certain none of them knew how to cut hair.
"I have a better idea," grinned Gabriel. He snapped his fingers, and a flamboyant man in a shockingly purple shirt appeared with a bag at his side.
The man walked over to Mae and looked her up and down. He grabbed her shoulder and forced her to turn, tittering as she did. "Oh darling, we have got some serious work to do. When was the last time you had a proper conditioning treatment?"
He started to lead her to the upstairs bathroom. Mae looked over her shoulder and mouthed, "Help me!" but none of the guys even moved.
Once they heard the sharp click of the bathroom door closing, they all burst out laughing.
"That was too great," Gabriel giggled.
Dean grinned wickedly. "Yeah. If more of your pranks were like that I think I'd like you."
"Just wait until you see the color." Gabriel kept laughing.
After an hour and a half, Mae and the man emerged from the bathroom. The guys, who had been preparing for the trap, halted.
"It's that bad, isn't it?" Mae groaned.
Dean fought to keep the smile off his face. "Well considering I'm not sure if I should get the fire extinguisher because your head's on fire or call an ambulance because you've been scalped, I'd say yeah, it's that bad."
Gabriel snapped his fingers and the man disappeared. "Told you you'd make a good red head."
"Bite me," said Mae.
"Only if you insist," Gabriel replied.
Mae glared and went to go prepare for her part of the trap.
Shadows flickered demonically on the bare walls. The empty house echoed with silence. Bobby had remembered this place when they were looking for somewhere quiet to put an end to Moloch. It was a foreclosure, gutted by a bank that couldn't sell it in this economy.
Crowley stood at the center of a circle of candles, another circle lined with runes in front of him. Sam, Dean, Bobby, and Mae patrolled the house, wary of any trespassers. At two minutes to midnight they gathered around the summoning circle.
"All ready then?" Crowley asked the surrounding players. Each nodded in turn. "Remember, this circle will only hold Moloch for a little while. You're going to have to lay the Devil's trap quickly, since you lot are so set on interrogating him."
"And if we can't set it we're screwed blah blah blah blah blah. Just do it already." Dean said.
Sam stood at the ready, a piece of red chalk in his hand. Mae gripped the hilt of Ruby's knife tightly. She glanced at her father, but he only had eyes for the circle.
"Well then, let's begin." Crowley looked at the paper in his hand and began chanting. "Sint mihi dei Acherontis propitii! Valeat numen triplex Jehovoe! Ignei, aerii, aquatani spiritus, salvete! Orientis princeps Belzebub, inferni ardentis monarcha, et Demogorgon, propitiamus vos, ut appareat et surgat Moloch, quod tumeraris: per Jehovam, Gehennam, et consecratam aquam quam nunc spargo, signumque crucis quod nunc facio, et per vota nostra, ipse nunc surgat nobis dicatus Moloch!"
The candles fluttered out, leaving them in pitch-blackness.
Moments later, they candles relit. A man was standing in the center of the summoning circle, his eyes black and curious.
"Crowley," he hissed. "I didn't think you'd be summoning me."
"Well, I'm not alone."
Moloch's eyes darted around the room. When they landed on Mae, he grinned wickedly. "Oh I remember you." He whispered. "Your hair's changed, but I always remember our children. You were one of our first. But one of the strongest. And you will be again. I plan on reinstating the program, and trust me dearie, we will find you and bring you back to the fold."
"Not if we have anything to say about it." Sam stood. He had finished drawing the outer circle of the devil's trap, ensuring Moloch couldn't escape.
"Oh very good, monkey boy." Moloch taunted. "Draw the innards of the devil's trap so I can't see them, then finish it once I'm inside." Sam moved to stand next to Mae, a protective figure if there ever was one.
"Now let me get a good look at you." Moloch took in each of the figures in front of him. "A bit of a raggedy bunch, aren't you? A deposed king, a drunk, two idiot brothers, and a girl I've captured before. Worst of all, you overestimate yourselves. Or underestimate me."
"What do you mean?" Asked Bobby.
"I mean I'm the king. I never go anywhere without my bodyguards." Moloch snapped his fingers, and a troupe of fifteen demons appeared. One moved to strike. "Ah-ah-ah." Moloch scolded. "I don't believe I gave the order."
Dean raised his gun and fired at one of the demons. Before the bullet could strike, another figure appeared in its path. The shadow of wings flickered behind its shoulders. Another five figures appeared, one of them a familiar face.
"Shit." Dean said.
"Good to see you again, Winchester." Raphael smiled. "I'd appreciate you not shooting my devoted followers. It's just a waste of bullets, you know."
"So," Sam began to back up slowly, "How's this going to go down?"
"Simply." Replied Raphael. "I will finally remove the thorn in my side that you four have been for so long, and then I will kill the King of Hell." She looked oddly at Mae. "I don't know you child, but if you leave now, you will be spared."
Mae shook her head. "I think you just threatened to kill my dad. I'm not going anywhere you creepy bastard."
She looked even more confused. "I am the legitimate child of my Father. It is you humans," she turned to the demons, "And especially you abominations who are the bastards."
"I think I have a better idea." Moloch chimed.
Raphael turned to face him. "And what would that be, demon?"
"Your angels and my demons kill squash these flies, while you and I make a deal."
"I don't deal with eyesores like you."
"Oh you will, once you hear what I have to offer you."
Raphael shrugged. "I will hear you out. But I will not waste my angels on the humans unless it's absolutely necessary. And you stay in the trap."
Moloch nodded. "Fair enough." He turned to his minions. "Well, what are you waiting for? Kill them. But leave the girl for me."
Crowley vanished, leaving the humans to fend for themselves.
"Scatter!" Bobby shouted. The humans ran to opposite corners of the house. Mae took the stairs two at a time to the second floor, while Dean descended into the basement. Bobby and Sam remained in the main room, keeping their backs to each other.
The demons hesitated. Five broke off and followed Dean down the stairs. Six ran at Bobby and Sam, while the remaining four stalked carefully to the second floor.
Mae stood silently behind the door. She could hear the demons' footsteps in the rooms beyond. She guessed there were three, maybe four, looking for her. One stepped into the room she was hiding in. He was young. He reminded her of a football player – all muscle with broad shoulders and big hands – hands that could crush the life out of her.
She stepped out from behind the door, letting it swing partially shut. Thankfully it didn't squeal. She tiptoed up behind the demon, and latched herself onto his back. With one swift stroke she sliced his throat from ear to ear, deep enough to cut his vocal chords. Blood sprayed from the wound, coating her hands and sending tiny droplets flying into her face. She tried to keep his body from dropping to the floor, but she wasn't strong enough. He slipped down with a massive thud.
Another of the demons was coming, alerted by the sound. It swung the door open, and was greeted by a slash to the chest. This demon was smarter than the other. Right when it opened the door it jumped back, and Mae's cut only grazed its skin.
"Oh come on, sweetheart. You were one of us. You know how much fun it is. You know you want that power back." It hissed at Mae. While it was speaking, it moved towards Mae, closing the gap between them. Mae waved the knife at it. "Oh, looky there. You know what, I have one too." The demon brandished a butcher's knife at Mae. "Looks like you weren't the only one to bring a toy to the party."
It lunged at Mae. She parried the wild chop with relative ease, but it had thrown her off-balance. The demon pressed the advantage, but Mae righted herself and continued parrying the uncalculated blows. The slices slowed as the demon wearied. At this point, Mae was just toying with it.
Mae smiled wickedly. "I may not have been the only one to bring a toy, but at least I know how to use mine."
Panic rose in the demon's face. Out of the corner of her eye, Mae saw a third demon enter the room. She sent a vicious chop at the demon's face, cutting deep into the flesh as the third one moved to get behind her.
Mae grunted as she slid the knife into the demon's stomach. "We could use some cavalry here!" she shouted at thin air.
"Not so fast." She growled at the third demon, spinning on her.
She had a metal pipe in her hand, wielding it as a mace. The demon attacked fiercely, throwing a series of rapid blows at Mae. Mae was forced into a corner. The she-demon chuckled evilly. Before she could strike a killing blow, a blade burst through her chest, the metal painted scarlet. The grin slipped from her face as her body slipped from the sword.
Gabriel stood there, clutching his bloodied archangel blade. "Sorry about that. Apparently the cavalry wasn't as hidden as he thought he was."
Mae shoved him aside, plunging the knife into the shoulder of the demon that had snuck up behind Gabriel. "Now we're even." She grabbed him, dragging him back to the stairs and to the main room. "If that blade of yours is the only thing that can kill angels, we're going to need it."
Mae and Gabriel ran into the room. Bobby was relieved to see his daughter alive, but he had more pressing matters at hand. There was still one demon on him. It tried to back him into a corner, but he kept turning, leading the demon in a half-circle around the room. He ended up back where he and Sam had begun their fight. Before he could finish of the demon, Ruby's knife erupted from its chest.
"Thanks." He nodded absent-mindedly at Mae. "Sam, move!" he yelled.
Sam was standing a few yards away, fending off blows from a demon. At Bobby's shout, he disengaged, bent in half, and sprinted back towards the group. Bobby took a gun from his belt and shot the demon Sam had been fighting full of salt rounds. It screamed, black smoke pouring from its mouth as it fled.
Mae heard a flutter of wings, and looked to her right. Gabriel had disappeared. "Shit," she murmured, trying to keep her cool.
Dean came up from the basement just in time to see Bobby drop a match to the ground. Fire erupted, encircling the angels and the devil's trap. Bobby had Raphael and the other angels in a circle twelve feet in diameter, leaving plenty of room for the humans to maneuver. The archangel looked up in surprise.
"What is this?" she asked, turning to face the humans head-on. Sam and Dean raised their weapons.
"This is holy oil you ignorant bitch." Bobby grinned. He waved a pocket flask in her direction. "I never leave home without it."
"Clever." Raphael spoke softly, barely audible over the crackle of the fire.
Gabriel appeared next to Bobby.
"Gabriel?" Raphael asked in amazement.
Gabriel smiled at the trapped angel. "Hey there, Raphy." He paused dramatically. "Penny for your thoughts?"
Raphael lunged out of the circle, grabbing at Mae. Quick as lightening, she had Mae in her arms, her archangel sword pointed at her throat.
"Dollar for your soul?" Raphael spat back.
Gabriel's eyes widened. He held his hands palm up in a gesture of submission. "Alright, Raphy, don't do anything rash. Boys," he looked at Dean and Sam, "Put your weapons down." The Winchesters set down their guns. "Now, let's talk about this."
"Look at her face." Mae said. Raphael's sword tightened against her throat. "Look at her face." Mae urged, the point of the blade drawing a dot of blood.
Gabriel stared hard at his brother. "Oh, Raphy." A look of deep sorrow came over Gabriel's face. "Not you too."
Sam and Dean looked at each other in confusion, but Bobby only had eyes for his daughter.
"Let her go." Bobby pleaded.
"Why would I let my one bargaining chip go?" Raphael's voice was full of condescension.
"Raphael, please, listen to the man. There's no need to hurt an innocent." Gabriel took a step towards his brother.
"She stopped being an innocent the moment she refused to leave. I gave her a chance. She dug her own grave."
Gabriel took another step, causing Raphael to clench the blade tighter. Mae let out small whimper as the sword tip cut deeper into her throat. "Take me instead." Gabriel offered, his eyes never leaving Mae's.
Raphael was clearly shocked. "You would sacrifice yourself for your soul? You do realize she can come back. You never can."
"Of course I would. Wouldn't you do the same if I had your soul by the throat?"
Raphael's grip on Mae loosened at the mention of her soul. Gabriel looked pointedly at Mae.
Mae shoved Raphael's arm away from her, ducking and somersaulting away from the angel. She lunged after Mae, but Gabriel met her sword with his own, a high-pitched hum filling the air when they met.
"Run!" Gabriel shouted as he moved to parry a cut to his hip.
Crowley appeared in their midst, wrapping his arms around their shoulders. Mae's last glimpse of the battle was Gabriel slashing at Raphael, then she was back in her living room.
Bobby turned on the demon. "Where the fuck did you go?" He yelled. He tried to grab Ruby's knife away from Mae, but she yanked it away.
"There were more demons surrounding the house." Crowley explained, backing away from the looming Winchesters. "I went to help Gabriel fight them off." He protested.
"He's right," added Mae. The men turned on her. "Gabriel told me. He was delayed by some sort of battle outside the house."
Crowley dusted off his suit. "See." He looked gratefully towards Mae, but then he grimaced. "I hope that's not your blood."
"No, it's not." Mae looked at her hands. They were coated with congealing demon blood. When she caught a glimpse of her face in the mirror, it looked as though she had splattered herself with red war paint.
"So what about Gabriel?" Sam seemed concerned. "We just left him there."
"He'll be fine," assured Crowley. "He can hold his own against Raphael."
"He couldn't against Lucifer," Dean pointed out.
"Raphael isn't nearly as intelligent as Lucifer," Crowley replied with a wave of his hand. "He'll be fine. Perhaps a bit worse for wear, but fine."
"I'm going to go wash my hands." Mae started towards the kitchen.
"Don't touch anything," Bobby shouted at her retreating back.
The stood in tense silence until Mae returned.
"Red's a good color on you. You should make it permanent." Crowley joked.
She grimaced. "The hair? It is." Mae looked at him, curiosity mingled with the blood. "You're not like most demons." She told him
He raised an eyebrow. "How so?"
"Your face is different," she shrugged.
"Of course it is. Do you expect me to go around wearing the same face as another demon?"
"Not your meatsuit's face. Your real face."
"You can see my real face?" Crowley asked in astonishment.
"Only flashes. It's not like I'm constantly looking at your real face."
"Interesting. I never knew the souls had those sorts of abilities."
"It might be because I was possessed for so long. When I was possessed I could see the real faces of everyone around me. It's how I knew something was wrong with Raphael."
"How did he . . . she . . . it manage to get out of the circle of holy oil?" Dean asked, "I mean it's trapped Raphael before. Why didn't it work this time?"
Mae looked sorrowfully at her feet. "I think Raphael is falling," she muttered at her feet.
"Falling?" Crowley's brows drew together.
"Headlong flaming from the ethereal sky with hideous ruin and combustion down to bottomless perdition."
"Milton. Well done." Crowley was impressed
Before Crowley could question her further, Gabriel appeared. He looked a little beat up, but he certainly didn't look like he had just fought with his equally powerful brother.
Mae rushed to his side. "Are you alright?"
"Good as new," Gabriel replied. He smirked, making a lollipop and a loveseat appear at the same time. He licked the lollipop and plopped down on the loveseat. "Pop a squat, sweetie."
Mae sat. She was about to say something, but Bobby cut her off.
"Thank you," he told Gabriel, "for saving my daughter. I owe you one."
"Actually you lot owe me two." Gabriel stated frankly.
"Two?" Sam queried.
"We?" added Dean.
"I got Raphy to tell me the location of that book you're looking for. I tricked it out of him while we were fighting. He always did let himself get distracted."
"Where is it?" Dean jumped.
"The Seventh Gate."
"Oh no," Crowley said. "You can't be serious? It's suicide!"
"For those of us who can die, perhaps. "
"Wait. What's the Seventh Gate?" asked Sam.
"The Seventh Gate leads straight to Hell," Crowley told him.
"So to get this book we have to go to Hell?" Bobby was stunned.
"No, not to Hell," said Gabriel, "but to the edge of Hell. On the borderlands between our world and Hell there lies a great plain. There, Cerberus stalks the lost souls of the dead – those who were sent to Hell but never made it."
Dean's brows knit. "Cerberus? As in giant three-headed dog?"
"Not exactly," Crowley broke in. "There is a three-headed dog, but it's not as big as everyone seems to think. And its name isn't Cerberus. The dog's owner is named Cerberus. Over the years he came out with the dog less and less, so the people of that era began to call the dog by its owner's name. It stuck."
"So we have to make it to the Seventh Gate, be sure not to cross the border into Hell, avoid a three-headed dog and perhaps its owner, find the book, and get out." Bobby summarized.
"Pretty much," nodded Gabriel.
Mae sighed. "Looks like I'm going to be sticking around a little while longer."
Bobby smiled wide. Dean grimaced and Sam chuckled.
Mae smirked at Dean, then yawned. "Time for me to get some sleep. It's been a long night."
"We should all probably get some rest," Sam confessed.
Crowley and Gabriel vanished, and the remaining four scattered to their beds. Mae stopped by the bathroom to try to get the blood off her face and out of her hair.
Mae stared at her bedraggled, blood-spattered reflection in the bathroom mirror. She had finally managed to get the matted blood out of her hair, but there were still speckles and smears peppering her face. She wet and lathered her face. Bending over the sink, she washed off the pink-tinged bubbles. Thankfully, blood is easier to clean from skin than hair. Mae stood, patting her face dry. A slight smile played across her face.
She glanced into the mirror, checking for any more crimson splotches. But it wasn't blood that caught her eye – Gabriel was sitting on the toilet behind her, a smirk plastered to his face.
"What the hell are you doing?" Mae whirled, immediately on the offensive.
"Whoa," Gabriel stood, revealing the toilet seat was down, "Nothing dirty, just sitting. I mean, there's a reason they call it the throne – it's shockingly comfortable."
"Just… Don't DO that!" Mae turned back to the mirror, completely missing Gabriel's joke.
"Do what?" Gabriel feigned innocence.
Mae glared at him in the mirror. "Don't just appear and watch. It's creepy."
"Fine," Gabriel shrugged. "What're you doing anyways?"
"Just washing my face," Mae rubbed at a small red speck near her jaw line.
"Washing your face." Gabriel raised his eyebrows.
"Yeah. So?" She moved on to a streak near her hairline.
"So I never knew washing your face could bring such bliss."
Mae stopped scrubbing and turned to face him. She spoke softly, "When you've been possessed as long as I have you begin to miss the little things. A soft bed, warm water to wash your face – you begin to appreciate the details."
"Well sure," Gabriel responded, "I just didn't expect getting the blood off would be that important."
Mae's eyes narrowed.
"It's just," Gabriel stammered out, "I thought you'd be used to all the blood on your face."
"Excuse me?" Mae's voice was a dagger.
"Well, you had blood on your face a lot when you were a vampire, didn't you?" Gabriel immediately regretted saying it.
"How dare you?" Mae stormed out of the bathroom. She shouted over her shoulder as she stomped the length of the hallway to her room. "Do you think I chose to have peoples' blood on my hands? That I wanted to kill them? Do you think I got used to it? Oh, just another day, just some random bastard dead on the floor, his blood on my face!"
Gabriel followed her down the hall. "No, that's not what I meant! I didn't mean— " Mae slammed the door in his face.
As the door snapped shut, Mae turned, resting her back against the rough wood. Sighing, she closed her eyes. She knew she had overreacted. She took a deep breath, then another. She opened her eyes.
Gabriel was sitting on the edge of her bed.
"Fucking angels!" Mae exclaimed, her temper flaring. She went to leave.
"Wait." He begged. "I'm sorry." Gabriel hung his head dejectedly.
Mae sighed. He sounded earnest. Cautiously she walked to her bed and sat down next to the angel. "It's alright." She admitted begrudgingly. "I over-reacted."
Gabriel snorted. "Well don't we make a lovely pair. An emotionally stunted and unobservant archangel and a hypersensitive…" Gabriel trailed off. "I don't know what to call you." He finally said.
Mae looked him in the eye. "I'm just as human as the rest of them," she said.
Gabriel was the first to look away. "Well, I should be going. You need sleep." Gabriel rose and walked to the door.
Mae spotted something dark and slick on his shirt. "Wait!" she stood.
Gabriel turned back to her. "What?"
"Turn around." He obeyed. Gingerly Mae reached out, touching two fingers to the wet patch. "Is that – That's blood!" she said, her nose crinkling and brow furrowing.
"I-it's nothing," Gabriel feigned nonchalance.
"No, it's not." Mae grabbed his shoulder, turning him back to face her. She shoved her bloodied fingers in his face. "This is your blood. What's wrong?"
"Raphael nicked my wing when we were fighting," he admitted.
"And you didn't mention it to anyone?" Mae asked softly.
"It's not important. I'll be fine in a week or so."
"A week?"
"It was an archangel sword. It takes a while for those wounds to heal."
Mae shook her head. "Sit." She jerked her head towards the bed. "I'll go get a first aid kit."
"It's fine." Gabriel insisted
"You said it'll take at least a week to heal. Can it get infected?"
"Well yeah, but it's not like that'd kill me. Archangel, remember?" Gabriel teased.
Mae wasn't up for ant of his humor. "No, it won't kill you, but it'll slow you down, won't it?"
He nodded weakly.
"Sit." Mae ordered again. "And take your shirt off. We'll need to wash it." She headed out the door.
Gabriel unbuttoned his shirt and dropped it to the floor. He sat in silence for a couple minutes, until Mae reentered the room.
She took a damp cloth as wiped away the blood on his back. "I can't bandage the wound if I can't see it." She murmured.
Gabriel shifted, leaving one leg dangling from the bed. He rolled his head, loosening his shoulders. As he stared straight ahead, black outlines flickered, then solidified.
Mae's lips parted in wonder. Gabriel's wings nearly stretched from her headboard to her door. The feathers were long and delicate-looking. The color resembled an oil slick – black one moment, then pink, then yellow, then green – never the same color for more than a few seconds. There was a chunk cut out of the right wing near Gabriel's shoulder. She dabbed at it with the cloth, eliciting a pained grunt from Gabriel. Carefully, Mae wrapped the wing, wincing every time he flinched beneath her touch. Once she was done, she ran her hands gently over his wings. The feathers were soft, and shifted like the wind was rustling them when her hand passed over. A soft sigh of pleasure dripped from Gabriel's lips.
"They're beautiful." Mae whispered breathlessly as she slid her right hand to the joint where the wing met Gabriel's back.
With his right hand, Gabriel reached back and clasped her wrist. He gradually drew her hand over his shoulder. Slowly, as if she were a deer he would startle, Gabriel brushed the back of her hand with his lips. When she didn't draw back, he turned it over, kissing her palm, then moving up to her wrist.
That was when she drew back. Gabriel's wings dissolved like mist as he turned to face her. Mae's cheeks were flushed. She refused to meet his gaze.
"I need some sleep." her voice steady despite her discomposure.
"Yeah," he said, "I'll go. Good night. Sweet dreams." He got up to leave. Her voice made him pause at the door.
"I'll change the bandage tomorrow night." She looked up from her hands.
He nodded, a sad, sweet smile playing on his lips. He left her in darkness, sitting on her bed.