Chapter 7 – Games
Gail appeared back in the apartment she and Castiel shared, only to find him sitting in the same place as he had been when she'd left.
She went to sit down beside him. How the hell was she going to tell him that Chuck was back in Heaven? And, that Bobby had brought him there? Oh, and most of all, that she was prepared to give Chuck a second chance? Also, as if that wasn't enough, that Chuck wanted to apologize to Cas in person?
Gail looked at Cas and took a deep breath. Well, she thought, we've had a good run. Maybe she'd be moving into the bunker before the day was out, after all.
"Bobby called me because..." her voice caught, but she made herself continue "...he's brought someone else back to Heaven."
Castiel just stared at her, waiting for her to continue. Gail took another deep breath, and then it all came out in a rush: "He brought Chuck back to Heaven, and I know how you feel about him, and that's how I felt too, but he's the one who tried to warn me about my attack, and Crowley killed him while he was trying to protect you from being killed, and Bobby believes he's sincerely reformed, and I think he might deserve another chance."
There. Let Cas do whatever he was going to do.
But he continued to stare at her, saying nothing. Doing nothing. No reaction at all. He was probably too stunned, too angry to speak.
"Castiel? Cas?" Gail said. Still nothing. Just that steady, blue-eyed gaze.
Now she was really worried. Gail had never seen this, before.
"OK; say something, do something. Yell at me, punch a wall, something," Gail said. "Get it out of your system."
Castiel rose and went to his room, shutting the door behind him.
Crap. This was bad. What should she do now? Go in there? Leave him alone? Gail honestly didn't know. This was without precedent.
She figured she'd better leave him alone for a while; he probably had to cool down for a bit. So Gail grabbed her purse and left the apartment.
She walked over to the park across the street from where they lived and sat on a bench, thinking about what her next move should be. Then Gail remembered sitting on another bench a while back when it had been her who had been angry at Castiel, and a friend who had helped her then.
She took out her cell phone and made the call.
Dean answered his phone. "Hi, Gail, what's wrong?"
"How did you know it was me?" She was already smiling; it was so good to hear his voice.
"Hello? Call display?" he retorted.
"Okay, smartass. Then, how did you know something was wrong?"
"Hey, I said to call us if you needed us, right? So, I figure you need us."
"Maybe I was just calling to say hi," Gail said. She was a little stung by what he'd said, but that didn't make any sense. She DID need him.
"But you aren't," Dean said. "Spill it."
Gail sighed. "OK, Dean." She found herself telling him about Bobby, Aurielle, Chuck, and Cas. It all came out in a rush.
"I don't know what to do, Dean," Gail said.
Dean was quiet for a moment. Then: "All I can tell you about Bobby is he's got maybe the most sense of right and wrong as anybody I know," Dean said. "And, Cas is just...Cas. He'll come around."
"Yeah, but what do I do in the meantime?" Gail asked him.
Dean didn't respond. He honestly didn't know.
"Would you and Sam mind if I moved into the bunker for a while?" Gail asked.
Dean was alarmed. "Is it THAT bad?"
Gail sighed again. "I don't know, Dean. It's complicated."
Dean said, "I don't know what's going on there, but why don't you wait until we get back, and we can all sit down and talk about it?" A voice in the background, then Dean said, "She's talking about moving out." Silence, then Sam's voice:
"Gail, what the hell's going on?"
Suddenly, Gail felt tears sting her eyes. She missed Sam and Dean so much. "I don't know, Sam," she said. "Everything's so messed up, and..." She didn't know how to finish that sentence.
Gail felt the phone being taken out of her hand and looked up to see Cas standing over her. "Hi, Sam," he said into the phone. He listened for a moment, then said, "No, it's fine. Everything is OK." Then silence, then: "Dean, it's OK, really. No, we don't need you to come back. We're OK, really we are." Pause. "OK. We'll talk to you soon." Then he hung up the phone and looked at Gail.
"They're both mad at me," he said to her, smiling. "Not that I can blame them." He sat down next to her on the bench, handing Gail back her phone. "I'm sorry, Gail." He looked down, sighing. "I didn't mean to upset you. I needed some time alone, to think."
"I figured that," Gail said to him. "That's why I came out here."
"And called Sam and Dean?" he said.
"Yes," she retorted, looking at him. "They're our friends." That was all she could say.
But that was all she needed to say. Castiel nodded. "Yes, they are." Silence. "I've been pretty hard to live with since we got back, haven't I?"
Gail didn't know what to say. If she said yes, she would hurt his feelings; if she said no, it would be a lie.
Castiel turned to her and said, "I went to my room and thought about us. About when we met. About Dallas. And Las Vegas. And about everything that's happened since we got back."
Gail was apprehensive. "And?" she prompted.
"And then I came back out to talk to you, and you weren't there," he said. "And I thought about the moment I thought you had died. That's what that felt like. I felt like it was me who had died. Because I might as well be dead if you're not with me."
She could see that he meant what he said, but: "We're going to have to find a way to be OK with this, Cas."
He took her hand. "No, it's me who has to be OK," Cas said. He smiled. "You've done nothing wrong. You should have been able to talk to me."
Gail relented then, quipping, "No more bad news, I promise. It'll be all rainbows and puppies from now on, OK?"
He looked quizzical for a moment, then said, "Can I tell you something?"
Now Gail was quizzical. "Sure, what?"
Cas leaned forward and whispered in her ear, "I never really cared for puppies. They bite."
Gail looked at him, then started to laugh.
"Come here." Castiel pulled her in for a hug, and then they kissed, and everything was all right.
Bobby was idly poking around in his desk, lost in thought. He really didn't know what he was going to do about Xavier. Maybe cleaning some clutter out of his desk would help organize his thoughts.
When he opened the bottom drawer and saw Rowena's present, Bobby frowned. Suddenly, he wondered why he had kept it all these years. And why he had never at least unwrapped it, to see what it was.
So he took it out of the drawer and examined it for a moment, then put it on his desk and tore the wrapping paper off.
It was a book, as he had expected. A very old book, by the looks of it. Bobby picked it up and started leafing through it. He quickly realized it was a spell book. There were all manner of magical spells in it. It was almost like a recipe book.
Why would she give him this? Bobby was puzzled. As if he'd ever use any of the dark magic in it. He turned to the overleaf underneath the book's cover. Rowena had written: "You cast a spell on my heart, Bobby. Thought I'd return the favour. Love, Your Rowena."
Bobby felt a pang of nostalgia, remembering the evenings they'd spent together at his kitchen table, and in his bed. Those had been good times. Witch or not, Bobby had loved her sense of humour, and her spirit. He supposed he had loved her.
But he now knew that Rowena was the mother of the King of Hell, and though he still missed her from time to time, Bobby was glad she was dead. Now that he was God, that'd be all he'd need. But what did she mean by leaving him this book? He wanted no part of it.
After a moment's consideration, Bobby put the book back in the bottom drawer. When Sam and Dean returned from the road, he'd show it to them, see what they thought of it. Maybe give it to them to put in their library. He certainly didn't want it. And as far as the inscription went, though he'd thought about tearing it out of the book and keeping it to himself, maybe it was finally time to come clean. He spouted off to everyone else about honesty, didn't he? Bobby guessed he should tell the Winchesters about his past association with Rowena. After all, he reasoned, it's not as if any harm had come to any of his friends because of it.
Becky and Aurielle were sitting in the break room chatting when Kevin walked in.
Kevin had been shy around girls in life. He'd been a boy genius and had applied himself to academics before being caught up in the web of the supernatural realm, and as such, he'd had little to no experience with girls. Then he'd been murdered at a young age and had come here to Heaven, working in the transcription department. He'd applied himself to his job just as he had to his studies in life, and his dedication had paid off. When God cast Chuck down to Hell for his crimes, He had chosen Kevin for promotion to the office of One True Prophet. And Kevin's confidence had grown substantially. Except for the block he'd had about the Vegas prophecies. That still bothered him a little, but Bobby hadn't blamed Kevin for what had happened, and now Kevin was churning work out at an amazing rate. He still couldn't see the future for Sam and Dean or their friends though, or for Crowley. After trying and failing numerous times, Kevin had had to give up. Those were the prophecies that Bobby had wanted the most, but it wasn't going to happen. Maybe it was because he'd been too close to them in life, Kevin thought. Even Crowley, albeit in a very negative way.
But except for this one blind spot, Kevin was doing a good job and he knew it. He'd earned the respect of his fellow Angels by being pleasant and approachable. Some of the young female Angels thought he was kind of cute.
"Hi, I don't think we've met," Kevin said to the women. "I'm Kevin." He extended his hand to both of them in turn.
"Oh, you're the Prophet, aren't you?" Becky said to him.
Kevin smiled and nodded. "That's me."
The Prophet! Aurielle thought. So, this was the Angel who had replaced Chuck. Other than that, she didn't really care. As long as he left her alone, she'd leave him alone.
"I'm Becky," Becky said to Kevin. She thought he was cute. He was no Sam, of course, but no guy was.
Becky, Kevin thought. Wasn't she the one...? "Are you the Becky who was with the Winchesters and the Angels in Las Vegas?" Kevin asked curiously, sitting down next to her.
"Yes," she said, amazed. Then she realized she was being stupid. He was the Prophet; of course he knew.
"How are my friends?" Kevin asked, smiling. He missed the Winchesters.
"Sam's your friend?" Becky was floored. Then she thought to add: "And Dean?"
"Yeah, we go back a ways," Kevin said, sitting back in his chair. They sure did. The three of them had been friends before Sam had killed Kevin. Well, to be fair, Sam had been possessed by the Angel Gadreel at the time. So it hadn't technically been Sam, just his body, who had plunged the knife into Kevin, ending his young life. But Kevin didn't hold a grudge. He'd been pissed at first, but just because there was so much more he'd wanted to experience. But Kevin couldn't blame Sam. It wasn't his fault.
Becky was thrilled. She'd have to spend some time with Kevin, question him about Sam. She still hadn't given up on her campaign to win Sam's heart. True, when Becky had found out that Gail was actually an Angel, it had taken a bit of the wind out of her sails. Gail and Castiel weren't a "mixed" couple after all. But they did hang around with the Winchesters all the time. There had to be a way, Becky thought. She'd just have to get to know Sam's friends and go from there.
As Becky and Kevin were getting acquainted, Aurielle was brooding. She had been keeping up the facade of her friendship with Becky, but Aurielle found the girl vapid and exhausting. She was glad someone else had come along to take Becky off her hands for a bit, give her a chance to think.
Aurielle was getting impatient. She had been so happy to have been returned to Heaven; it was certainly better than the constant fear and vigilance of Purgatory. But she'd also hoped to have formulated a plan to get close to Castiel by now. That had been the reason she had befriended Becky in the first place. Once Aurielle had discovered that Gail and Becky were friends, she'd thought that Gail could be gotten to through Becky. Or, at the very least, that she would have seen Castiel more often. From everything Becky had told her, Gail never went anywhere without him. But since their first brief encounter, Aurielle had not seen either of her targets.
She had been wondering if there was any way she could get closer to the offices of the Upper Echelon. Aurielle doubted that Castiel himself had an office, as he was rarely in Heaven, but she assumed that if he were to attend their meetings, he was most likely to be found near that area. But she needed a legitimate reason to be there. Or, she could just grab Gail the next time she saw her and hold an Angel blade to her throat. That had certainly proved effective to get Castiel's attention, in the past.
"What are you smiling about, Aurielle?" Becky asked curiously.
"Oh, nothing," Aurielle said. "Just thinking happy thoughts. " She beamed at Becky and Kevin.
A couple of days later, Sam and Dean were having a beer together in their motel room. They'd successfully concluded their business and were unwinding, talking about the case they had just worked, and about what they should do next.
Sam was thinking about Gail's phone call the other day. Her request to move into the bunker had been odd. She and Cas had been as close and as happy as a couple could be in Las Vegas, and now she was talking about leaving him? What had gone so wrong in such a short time? Did he even really want to know?
Dean had been thinking about Gail's phone call, too. She had sounded weird, off from her usual self. He'd been surprised to hear that Bobby had brought both Chuck and Aurielle back to Heaven, but he figured Bobby must have his reasons. Dean could see how upsetting this must be for Gail, and Cas must have popped a blood vessel or two. Did Cas and Gail have a fight? Maybe that was why Gail had asked to move back into the bunker. But they'd been in rougher situations before, and they'd always come through together. What was so different now?
He and Sam looked at each other and said:
"Maybe we should go back - "
"I think we should go home - "
They both laughed. No wonder they'd been able to live together and work together all these years. In a lot of ways, they were the same.
"You go first," Dean said, tipping his beer bottle towards his brother.
"I think we should go home," Sam said. "I didn't like the way Gail sounded on the phone."
Dean frowned. He hadn't liked it, either. And Cas had sounded like his old self; the old Angel self, that was. No straight answers, though Dean had asked him some very blunt questions.
"How did she sound to you?" Dean asked his brother.
Sam frowned, too. "Like she was about to cry."
Dean felt confused by this. The Cas he knew now would sooner have jumped off a cliff than say or do anything to make Gail cry. What the hell was going on with those two? Usually Dean would steer clear of this type of situation, but he got the feeling that there was more going on than just some domestic squabble.
That last thought decided him. "OK, we'll leave tomorrow morning," he told Sam.
Two days later, Dean drove the Impala into the bunker's garage and shut off the engine. Sam was already on his cell phone, calling Cas.
On the drive home, the brothers had decided they not only needed to talk to Cas and Gail, but Bobby, too. They trusted Bobby implicitly, but Gail had alluded to some tension between Cas and Bobby over Bobby's decisions to bring Chuck and Aurielle back to Heaven, and if they all got together, maybe they could mend a few fences.
When Cas answered, Sam told him he and Dean were home. Could Cas and Gail come over?
"Sure, Sam," Cas answered. "Gail would like that. She's been missing you both."
Well, Cas sounded OK, at least. Maybe they'd made up, and he and Dean were overreacting. But he still wanted to talk to them, to make sure. Sam felt protective of Gail, too.
By the time the brothers dropped off their bags in their rooms and came out to the library area, Cas and Gail were already there.
Gail ran up to both brothers and hugged each of them in turn. Was it Sam's imagination, or did she look relieved to see them? Or was he reading something into her expression that wasn't there?
"What's up, Cas?" Dean said to him.
Cas had known Dean a long time now, and he wasn't fooled by Dean's casual greeting. What Dean was really saying to him was: What did you manage to screw up, now?
Cas sighed. "Nothing, Dean," he said, a little uncomfortably. "Just Angel stuff."
Green eyes stared into blue ones and in a rare moment, Cas caved first. "Maybe you'd like to get a beer. This could take a while."
Angel crap or no, the brothers were amazed at how much had happened to their friends in the short time since they'd come back from Las Vegas.
Dean had been amused by Cas's standoff with Xavier in the meeting. He felt like high-fiving his friend. That guy Xavier sounded like a huge dick, and Dean already hated him. Poor Bobby, trying to deal with bureaucratic, holier-than-thou asshats like that. Not for the first time, Dean wondered what the hell they were thinking in Heaven. Bobby was the best man he could think of to run the show up there.
"How are things with Bobby?" Sam asked Cas, as if reading his brother's mind.
"What do you mean?" Cas asked him.
"I think Sam's asking: how are things between you and Bobby?" Gail said. She looked at Sam, thanking him silently. Finally: the elephant in the room.
Cas stirred uncomfortably in his chair. "Not great, Sam."
Gail said nothing further, feeling for both Castiel and Bobby in this situation. Each man had their own point of view, and each man believed himself to be right. She couldn't really fault either one of them; though she herself believed Bobby's judgment regarding Aurielle was very much off the mark, maybe she was biased. Being tortured and almost killed by someone who clearly wanted to succeed in replacing you tended to do that to a person.
"We need to get him down here," Dean said. "Pour shots all around, and hash this thing out."
"Finally, something that makes sense," Gail said, relieved. She was so glad the brothers were back. She'd been trying to suggest that very thing for the past few days, minus the shots, and Cas had been resistant.
Cas looked at Dean and sighed. "All right, Dean," he said. "If you think that would be best."
Gail didn't know whether to laugh or be offended. "I've been trying to get you to - " She threw her hands up in surrender. Dean really did have a magic wand, it seemed.
Actually, Cas had been considering extending the olive branch to Bobby, but he thought Sam and Dean's presence might be beneficial. Just in case...well, just in case. But Gail's efforts as a peacemaker had not been lost on him. Her seeming willingness to forgive, if not forget, Chuck's and especially Aurielle's actions were serving as an example to him. He'd been an Angel for thousands of years now, and he still had a problem turning the other cheek. In his experience, most people tended to slap the other cheek too, if presented with it.
But Dean said, "Call him, Cas." So Cas called Bobby on Angel Radio, and Bobby came.
They'd all had a good, honest discussion, and Castiel seemed to be in a bit of a better place now, Gail thought. He'd even agreed to come with her to the library and talk to Chuck. Or at least, to listen. She thought how great it would be to have Sam and Dean there for the discussion. Gail would have liked to get their opinions on whether she was crazy to be inclined to believe in Chuck's redemption. And they could help out, in case Cas went nuts.
But she had not suggested anything of the kind when it came to Aurielle. Gail knew that it would be pointless, and bringing Castiel to Aurielle would only fuel her fire. But, one battle at a time. Though Gail worried about Aurielle pretty much constantly, she was sticking by her support of Bobby, for better or for worse.
Sam and Dean had been invaluable when it came to mending fences between Cas and Bobby, and Gail had been content to sit back and let the four men talk. She'd looked at each of them with great affection as they had been talking with each other. Four men with four very distinct personalities, but they were all on the same side and it seemed like the more they talked, the more this became evident. Having a history together definitely helped. Now that Gail herself had a bit of a history with the Winchesters and with her Castiel, of course, she could see the love between the men, and the respect they had for each other. It seemed to her that Bobby had been a good man in life, but he wasn't perfect then, and he wasn't perfect now. But, did you really want to follow a God who was perfect? She didn't. It was much more comforting to Gail to see that God could admit he made mistakes sometimes, too. After all, wasn't everybody just a work in progress? Life was tough enough without being expected to start out perfect, and then improve from there. For both humans and Angels, it seemed.
So they talked for quite a while about a myriad of subjects, and when they were done, it felt to Gail like the five of them were again a cohesive unit, fighting common enemies.
And that was when everything went to hell.
Xavier knocked on Bobby's door and when he received no answer, he used his key to let himself in. If Bobby had been in there, Xavier had an excuse ready, but Bobby was nowhere to be found. Typical, Xavier thought. God was out in the field again, it seemed. Big surprise. It was like he didn't even want to be here. What kind of a leader just took off every time it suited his fancy? Even though his Father had taken off on an extended vacation when He'd been in the High Office, Xavier supposed this thought wasn't really blasphemy, now that his Father had retired. When Xavier achieved his goal to sit in the High Office, he vowed he would work long hours here until Heaven was made back into the original place that had been envisioned when the ancient book had been written. And he would always be available to his subjects. Provided they made an appointment first, of course.
Xavier's hand itched for the Hotline as soon as he'd entered the office, but he'd had a talk with himself since he'd spoken to Crowley. There was something profoundly Unclean about talking directly with the King of Hell, and contemplating an unholy arrangement with Crowley went against everything Xavier had long believed in. He'd spoken against Castiel and his sins in the meeting; wasn't trucking with the King of Hell worse?
So Xavier had wavered, yet here he was again. If only he could impeach Bobby by the laws of Heaven, perhaps such a drastic step would not be necessary. He turned away from the credenza and began to search Bobby's office, hoping to find something, anything, to use against him.
When Xavier got to the bottom drawer of Bobby's desk and saw the spell book there, he knew he'd hit the jackpot. And when Xavier leafed through the book and saw what it was, he was shocked. And then, when he read the inscription that was written in the book, Xavier started to smile.
Crowley was tired of waiting.
Xavier had promised delivery of Castiel and Bobby a week ago and said he'd be in touch, but the silence had been deafening. Crowley didn't know Xavier and wouldn't have trusted him anyway, but he and Metatron had been intrigued by the phone call, and had been eager to hear more. But, since that initial contact, nothing.
Crowley had been working on an idea of his own, though. Since Metatron's return to Hell and Crowley's decision that Metatron would be more valuable to him off the torture rack than on, Crowley had undergone a different sort of transformation. Now that he had zeroed in on a goal, Crowley had once again begun to drink only in moderation, and his nightly bull sessions with Metatron had replaced the ones he used to have with Frank. Gail's brother's evil had been true, but manufactured; whereas Metatron's evil was genuine, and seemed to have no limits. Crowley had dismissed Metatron initially as one of God's disgruntled former employees, but he now had to admit that there was more than sizzle to the steak. Metatron was highly intelligent, and highly motivated. He had convinced Crowley that their goals were identical: throw Heaven into the chaos it had once been in, and obtain some well-deserved revenge, in the process.
During one of their nightly bull sessions, Crowley had trusted Metatron enough to confide in him. He mentioned his previous theory about obtaining Gail and her seemingly limitless powers for his service.
Metatron had smiled inwardly. He had seen no such evidence. Aurielle had nearly succeeded in killing Gail in Dallas; it was only his own hubris in admitting to Aurielle that she'd been duped which had saved Gail. Metatron admitted to himself that he had jumped the gun on that one. He should have waited until Aurielle had actually killed Gail, and then told her. But that was in the past; the game still continued. Still, if Gail possessed the type of powers Crowley seemed to think she had, she'd have been able to protect the Winchesters from Metatron before he'd killed them. That Sam and Dean still lived rankled Metatron. He'd been shocked to see the brothers in Las Vegas. What the hell was it going to take to kill those two, an atomic bomb? And as far as Gail's alleged powers went, he was highly skeptical. But Crowley seemed convinced and frankly, Metatron didn't care. She didn't factor into what he was contemplating. At least, not at the moment. This was between the men.
Crowley had continued, musing aloud. He and Metatron both knew that as an Angel, Gail would normally be unobtainable to the King of Hell. But, Crowley said to Metatron, hadn't Lucifer once been just about the highest-ranking Angel there was? And where was Lucifer now? In a secure cage in a restricted section in Hell.
That had given Metatron an idea. He'd been excited by Xavier's idea to deliver both Bobby and Castiel to Crowley, paving the way for Xavier to rule Heaven. But if Xavier had wimped out, couldn't he and Crowley just take matters into their own hands?
So he asked Crowley about Lucifer's cage. Was it true that it was impermeable, encased in sigils, and escape-proof?
"Of course," Crowley confirmed. Stupid git. He'd been impressed by Metatron's intelligence up to this point, but Crowley rolled his eyes at this question. "Otherwise, he'd have escaped by now. The cage pre-dates my administration. God himself constructed it, and only God can break its seals. Something I never would have agreed to, if I'd been in office at the time."
Metatron leaned forward, his eyes gleaming. "We would be talking about the original God, right?"
Crowley nodded. Of course. What was Metatron getting at?
Metatron continued, "So Bobby Singer, who is not the original God, and Castiel the Angel, who is rendered powerless by sigils..." he trailed off, letting Crowley do the math. Crowley was the Boss after all, temporarily speaking.
Crowley brightened. "….would not be able to escape Lucifer's cage," he finished.
Metatron sat back in his chair. "Bingo."
Crowley frowned. How to get them here, though? He thought for a moment, and then he had it. Of course. Sam and Dean Winchester. How else?
He looked at Metatron. "I think it's time we paid Earth a little visit."
Hell's portal to Earth via Las Vegas was now sealed, but the King of Hell didn't need to worry about such matters. He took Metatron's hand and they transported to Earth immediately. Once there, Crowley released Metatron's hand right away. Pity he had not thought to bring some Purell. They were allies now, but there was something distinctly slimy about Metatron.
"Let me know when you sense one," Crowley said to Metatron, resisting the urge to wipe the hand that had held Metatron's on his suit jacket. How evil did you have to be to creep out the King of Hell, anyway?
Metatron raised his head as if trying to catch a scent. One of the benefits of being one of God's Original Angels was being able to sniff out an Angel miles away, powers or not.
"Ames, Iowa," Metatron said. "One hundred miles west."
Crowley sighed. Of course. He'd much rather have taken an ordinary bus than to take Metatron's hand again. But they had to get this show on the road. He needed to get some Grace into Metatron if they hoped to pull this off.
Xavier called Castiel on Angel Radio, requesting a meeting. He was careful to say that he wanted to apologize for the way he had behaved at the meeting, and that Brother Ignatius was with him. Xavier wanted to mend fences and assure his Brother that they were all on the same side, and just wanted to do what was best for Heaven. Would he please come?
Ignatius smiled at Xavier. He was glad to see that Xavier was willing to put his resentments aside and have this conversation. He was sure that they could work things out. They had all known each other a long time, and even though Castiel's actions had at times shocked and dismayed even Ignatius, he knew his Brother Castiel had always been one of God's favourites. Ignatius knew his Father was very wise; even though he himself could not always see it or understand, God must favour Castiel for a reason. So Ignatius was prepared to give his Brother the benefit of the doubt, and talk to him about where his head was at.
Xavier was coming from quite a different place, of course. He was just happy he'd been able to get through the transmission with a straight face. He had the spell book he'd taken from Bobby's office in his desk drawer, all ready to produce once Castiel got here. Let him try to defend his friend, then. Xavier had arranged to have invisible sigils painted on his office walls prior to the meeting. True, he and Ignatius would be rendered powerless by them too, but most importantly, so would Castiel.
Xavier would confront Castiel with the book, with Ignatius as witness. And Xavier had one more surprise up his sleeve: a summons that he would present to his "Brother". The other board members had all signed off on it, even Ignatius. If Bobby were to be impeached from the High Office, it would by default be awarded to Castiel, as God had made the original offer to him. But according to the ancient rules, Castiel had to be deemed worthy by the Upper Echelon board before he could assume the Office. That meant that a tribunal would be held, with the board presiding, Xavier taking the lead as the ranking Angel. Castiel's character would be judged to determine whether he was worthy to assume the High Office, and nothing was off limits. Witnesses could be called to attest, as in a human trial, but Xavier was not concerned. Based on Castiel's track record, Xavier would be able to take over the High Office in about an hour, he thought dryly. Two, tops.
Castiel got the call from Xavier on Angel Radio and he just sat there for a moment, astonished. Xavier wanted to apologize to him? Why? And, why now?
He wasn't buying it. Cas turned to Gail and told her about the message.
Gail was also skeptical, but she was also slightly encouraged by the fact that Ignatius was with Xavier.
"Ignatius," she mused. "Isn't he the guy who tried to speak up for you at the meeting?"
Castiel felt this might be a bit of an overstatement, but he had to admit that out of all the board members, Ignatius had seemed to be the most reluctant to burn him at the stake. Maybe, just maybe, Ignatius had talked to Xavier and convinced him to be more reasonable.
"Should I go?" Cas asked Gail.
She looked at him. "That's not really for me to say," Gail remarked. She was uneasy about this whole thing. Heaven's politics were new to her, and she felt like a fish out of water. On the one hand, Gail resented the way the other board members, with the possible exception of Ignatius, seemed to regard Castiel. What the hell was wrong with them? Did they really think they were better than him? She had known Castiel for a while now, and though Gail knew he wasn't perfect, he was about as good as you could get. Love may be blind, but Gail thought those Angels must be blind, if they couldn't see that.
On the other hand, if there was even a chance that harmony could be achieved, she would be happy to see it. Weren't they all supposed to be on the same side, here?
So when Cas asked her again what she thought, that was what Gail said to him. He kissed her on the cheek and winked out of the room. And the wheels were set in motion.
Crowley and Metatron appeared in front of Castiel and Gail's apartment building a short while later.
Crowley had made short work of the Angel they'd found living an anonymous life in Ames, and Metatron had inhaled his Grace. Now that Metatron was back to full power, albeit temporarily, it was time to flush out the Winchesters.
Metatron looked up at the balcony of the apartment where Castiel and Gail lived. Now that he was back to full Angel status, he knew that Gail was there, but Castiel was not. An unexpected bonus. As his and Crowley's powers were now at maximum, Metatron had thought it would be no problem taking both Angels on, but now that he knew it was only Gail, this should be a piece of cake.
Crowley considered just going up there and taking Gail. He could sort out what to do with her later on. But he knew that his partner in crime would not stand for that. Metatron had a bee in his bonnet about their plan to entrap Bobby and Castiel in Hell, and now that he'd had to restore Metatron's powers, Crowley didn't want to rile him up by deviating from the original plan. Crowley honestly didn't know who would win in a fight between himself and Metatron, and he had no particular desire to find out. There would be plenty of time for Gail later on. Once he had possession of Castiel, Crowley could dangle him as bait. But he and Metatron needed the Winchesters to get Bobby and Castiel, first.
So, how to get their hands on Sam and Dean? They'd considered going to the bunker, but that would be pointless. Crowley knew all too well that they wouldn't be able to penetrate the wide assortment of protections the place had. Then Metatron had suggested coming here. But they did not want to engage with the Angel at the moment; they merely wanted to use her to get to the Winchesters. But, how?
Gail had been pacing the floor, anxious about Castiel's meeting with Xavier. She'd tried to read but couldn't concentrate. This was driving her nuts.
She found a piece of paper and a pen, then wrote a note for Cas, telling him she'd be on her bench in the park for a while. Gail liked sitting out there. She enjoyed the fresh air, and the place was usually pretty quiet. And it was right across the street. She hadn't considered going elsewhere on her own just yet because Castiel had been so agitated about her safety, but Gail didn't really see the harm. She'd been there alone for a few minutes just the other day, in fact. She'd stash her Angel blade in her purse along with her cell phone, and use her formerly human street smarts to stay aware of her surroundings. Her enemies were all in Hell or in Heaven, anyway. And while that did not preclude a sudden appearance by one, Gail thought the risk was small. And Cas would likely be back soon.
She walked out into the bright sunshine and inhaled the fresh air, smiling. Spring was coming, that was for sure. Gail crossed the street and sat down on her bench, smelling the flowers and the fragrant breeze. She'd grown to appreciate and understand Castiel's love of quiet places. But she kept her purse open beside her, keeping her cell phone and Angel blade in view.
Crowley and Metatron both smiled when they saw Gail sitting there with her back to them. She'd made this so easy.
Crowley called Dean on his cell phone.
"Hello, Dean," he said, pleasantly enough.
Dean couldn't believe it. Crowley! What the hell did HE want?
"What, Crowley?" Dean snapped. He didn't have the patience or the inclination to chat with the King of Hell.
"I'm with an old acquaintance of yours," Crowley said smoothly. "He wanted to say hello." Crowley turned the phone around, then activated the video mode. Wasn't human technology amazing?
"Hi, Dean," Metatron smiled, looking at the phone's screen. "Miss me?"
When Crowley had murdered Metatron, the latter had lost the vessel he'd been using in Las Vegas and had reverted back to his former appearance. Dean might have recognized him from Vegas anyway, having seen Metatron murder one of Dean's best friends, but Dean now saw Metatron's own smarmy face, and he bolted out of his chair.
"Metatron!" Dean yelled, and Sam came rushing into the room.
"What? Where?" Sam said, but Dean waved him off with the hand that wasn't holding the phone.
Crowley turned the phone back to himself, but kept the video function on. "The two of us are here watching over Castiel's little pet for him. Apparently he's flown the coop and left her here, all alone. How unfortunate. Well, he's not famous for making good decisions, is he, Dean?"
Then Crowley turned the phone around again and pointed it towards Gail, sitting quietly on her bench. Completely oblivious. Crowley and Metatron were behind her, far enough away that she could not hear them. She should have sensed Metatron's presence at least, now that he was back to Angel status, but Gail was still inexperienced enough as an Angel to ignore the tickle. She'd been thinking about Castiel and how things were going in Heaven and since it was now spring, Gail misinterpreted what she felt. She waved her hand, trying to shoo away what she thought must be some kind of insect buzzing around her head.
Oh, crap, Dean thought. Holy mother-loving hell. This was bad. If he could only just reach out through the phone and put his hands around their enemies' necks.
Sam had been leaning over Dean's shoulder throughout this exchange, and he was scared for Gail, too. Even if she had her Angel blade with her, she wouldn't stand a chance against those two. Where the hell was Cas? Why had he left her alone and vulnerable like this?
Dean covered the phone with his hand. "Sam, call Gail's cell. Warn her."
"No, don't, Sam," Crowley said sarcastically. "Nice try, boys." He couldn't have them tipping her off. He and Metatron needed the Winchesters to come to them. "If you call her, we'll just kill her immediately."
Sam paused in the act of dialing Gail on his own cell phone and reluctantly aborted the call.
"So why are you calling us, you son of a bitch?" Dean shouted into the phone.
Sam was wondering the same thing, too. If they were there to kill Gail, why call the Winchesters, and tell them you were about to do it?
"My...associate and I would like to have a little chat with you and Sam," Crowley said. "We promise we will not harm Gail if you meet us at the crossroads in half an hour."
"Oh, you PROMISE. Well, we'll just believe you, then!" Dean yelled. He was enraged. He felt like he was going to have a brain embolism, his head was pounding so hard. How his grip hadn't crushed his phone to bits yet was beyond Dean.
Sam's mind was racing. He agreed with Dean. They could just kill Gail anyway as the brothers drove to the crossroads, giving themselves up to the trap that was obviously being set for them.
Crowley could tell they weren't falling for it. "But if you don't meet with us, she will die," Crowley said. "And your friend Castiel, too, when he returns."
Crap, Dean thought. What were they supposed to do, here? He and Sam were damned if they did, and damned if they didn't. Did they really have any kind of a choice?
"We only want to talk to you, boys," Crowley continued smoothly. Lying through his teeth, of course. "See if we can work out some kind of a deal."
A deal? What kind of a deal could those two bastards possibly propose that he and Sam would want any part of? But if they didn't go to the meeting, Gail was toast. Dean couldn't have that on his conscience.
"We'll need proof that she's alive," Dean said, echoing Sam's thoughts of a moment earlier. "You could just kill her, while we're on our way to the crossroads."
Crowley had to admire Dean. Yes, they could. Dean was quite right. But the brothers already had one leg in the car, and he needed them to get all the way in.
"I'll keep the connection until you get there," he said to Dean. "You'll see that she's fine. We won't go near her. And when you get there, call me, and we'll just - " he snapped his fingers. "But we're wasting time, now. Pedal to the metal, Dean."
The brothers looked at each other. It would have to be enough. Dean handed the phone to Sam, and they raced to the garage.
Castiel stared at the spell book Xavier had just handed him, in disbelief. This had been in Bobby's desk? Maybe Bobby had been doing some research, brushing up on the lore. But then, Xavier had pointed out the inscription. Castiel's head reeled with the shock. Bobby and Rowena? The King of Hell's mother? The woman who had infected them with the Seven Sins, and helped her son to enslave Gail?
He hated to admit it, but Xavier was right. Bobby needed to explain this, at the very least.
"This book alone should be enough to impeach him," Xavier said to Castiel. "And as the one our Father chose originally, and the Senior ranking member, the Office would go to you, Castiel."
Cas looked up sharply. He hadn't thought of that. Was Xavier trying to get him to turn against Bobby, using the power of the High Office as the reward? Well, it wasn't going to work. Although Castiel had been very angry at Bobby on a number of occasions recently, and he would certainly have to explain himself when it came to this book, he was still Castiel's friend. And Castiel was loyal. Besides, Castiel was sure Xavier did not want him in the High Office, either. What kind of a game was Xavier playing?
"I do not want the Office," Castiel said uncomfortably. But then, he had to reconsider. If he did not take it, the title would go to Xavier, by succession. This was the scenario that Castiel had feared the most. He couldn't let that happen. "But I will take it, if Bobby is impeached."
Ignatius had said nothing up until this point, but he spoke up now: "So you will submit to the tribunal?" he asked Castiel.
"Tribunal?" Castiel repeated.
"Yes, the tribunal," Xavier said, trying not to smile. He'd known that Castiel would have no idea. Rules meant nothing to him.
Xavier took the summons scroll out of his top desk drawer and placed it on the desk in front of Castiel. "This is a summons signed by the board members, all of us, directing you to appear at your tribunal hearing."
"What are you talking about?" Castiel was confused. He looked from Xavier to Ignatius, and then back at Xavier again.
"I thought you were aware of the rules," Xavier told Castiel, feigning innocence. "Read the summons; it'll explain everything."
Castiel's hand crept towards the scroll, almost as if it was a snake that was coiled there, waiting to bite him. Which was an apt analogy, in this case. Tribunal? Summons? Hearing? It sounded like Xavier was talking about a trial, with Castiel as the Defendant.
He took the scroll and opened it, beginning to read. But it was very long, it was in the ancient language, and Castiel was out of practice. So he closed the scroll, and looked at Xavier.
"Bottom line it for me," Castiel said. "Exactly what type of proceeding are we talking about, here?"
"Bottom line it?" Ignatius asked, puzzled.
Xavier was also at a loss. The human influence was rearing its ugly head, no doubt. But he understood Castiel's second question, and he was only too glad to respond to it.
"The tribunal is held to examine the life of the aspirant to the High Office," Xavier told Castiel. Now, a small smile began to creep onto his face; he just couldn't help it. This was too good. "His deeds, both good and bad, his sins, the content of his character. Witnesses can be called, but the ultimate decision rests with the board, at the end of the testimony. With myself conducting the hearing, of course." Xavier made himself stop smiling, then. He wanted to intimidate Castiel, as Castiel had intimidated him, at the meeting. "And at the end of the testimony, if the aspirant's crimes are egregious enough, there may be a prison term involved. I've even seen a couple of extreme incidences where the death penalty was invoked." Xavier remembered back fondly to the prior tribunals that had been held after God had taken his extended vacation, a few years back. Several aspiring Angels had subjected themselves to the ordeal, and those who were still alive were currently rotting in Heaven's prison. Xavier had seen to that, personally. But before his own tribunal could be held, The Fall had occurred, and then God had returned.
Castiel regarded Xavier coolly. Now, he finally got it. This was Xavier's way of getting rid of him for good. So, the ancient rules required him to be put on trial by Xavier and his cronies and have his life be put under a microscope for all to see, under the guise of judging him to be worthy of an Office he didn't even want? He could just imagine who the witnesses would be, and what they would say. Even if he were able to find witnesses to testify on his behalf, Castiel was sure Xavier would reserve the right to cross-examine them. His mind conjured up a picture of Gail sitting on the witness stand, compelled to tell the truth about their nights in that Las Vegas hotel room. Human or not, no Angel would care, especially not the board. Could she be sent to prison as well, or worse? How ancient were the laws under which they were supposedly bound? And he himself would receive a one-way ticket to a life sentence for his crimes, he was sure. If not the ultimate penalty, death. If Xavier could sway the rest of the board to vote his way, Cas was as good as gone.
Dean had urged the Impala to her limits, and he and Sam reached the crossroads in just over twenty minutes. The tires screeched as he slammed on the brakes. Sorry, Baby, he thought. He'd have to give the car a good tune-up, after things calmed down. If that were to ever happen.
Sam had been holding Dean's cell phone the whole time and incredibly, Gail was left untouched. Still blissfully unaware of the danger she was in, letting the sun warm her as she continued to sit quietly on the bench.
"She's still OK," he confirmed to Dean as they got out of the car. Sam handed the phone back to his brother, and then he got out his own phone, calling Crowley. "All right, we're here," Sam said. The video of Gail had disappeared when Crowley picked up, and then an instant later, Crowley and Metatron were standing in front of the Winchesters.
Dean was disgusted. When he last saw these two, Crowley was stabbing Metatron to death. Now here they were, and partners, by the looks of it.
"So, what's this deal you talked about?" Dean asked impatiently.
"It'll be a trade," Crowley said casually. "Two for two."
The brothers exchanged glances. What was he talking about? Who did he have hostage?
Before taking off from the bunker, Sam and Dean had filled their pockets with Demon knives, holy water and the various tools of their trade, but they had to get close enough to their enemies to be able to use them.
Crowley and Metatron knew this, of course. Crowley would have expected no less from them. But if they thought they were going to get the opportunity to even try, they were mistaken.
"This will only sting for a moment," Crowley said, and he and Metatron waved their arms in concert, throwing the brothers back against the car. Sam's cell phone was in his back pocket and it broke instantly, while Dean's cell phone went flying out of his hand, landing on the pavement.
Then Crowley and Metatron advanced on the brothers and conjured up chains, binding Sam and Dean together, back to back.
"Sorry, boys," Crowley smiled. "I assure you the discomfort will only be temporary."
Dean was fuming. "You said we were here to do a deal," he said to Crowley.
"Oh, but you are," Crowley replied lightly.
Metatron chipped in: "Well, maybe not so much to DO the deal, as to BE the deal."
Great, Sam thought. Crowley was bad enough; now they had to put up with Metatron. If ever there was a guy who thought he was the smartest person around, it was Metatron, not Sam. He'd sooner the two of them had killed him and Dean right now than to have to listen to Metatron being clever.
"Two for two," Crowley said enigmatically, smiling. He turned his back on them then, said, "Stand back" to Metatron, and waved his arms dramatically, like a conductor directing his orchestra.
The ground startled to crumble in front of them, and soon everything was shaking. A huge pit opened up, and Crowley turned back to the Winchesters, raising his voice above the noise.
"It's time we had a visit," Crowley said, smiling again. "Sam, you'll love what I've done with the place."
Sam understood immediately. "No!" he screamed. He remembered all too well what had happened the last time he had jumped into the pit of Hell. He'd been locked into the cage with Lucifer, and had nearly gone insane. He couldn't do that again; he'd never survive. And Dean was so screwed up, already; how on earth would his brother ever come through the experience?
Crowley and Metatron put one hand each on a Winchester shoulder and they all descended into the pit. The ground above repaired itself instantly, leaving no sign that anything had occurred there, save for a black muscle car parked on the road, and a cell phone lying beside it.
Then, the four of them were in Crowley's office. Metatron had frisked the brothers and removed all of their weapons, making rude comments all the while. He handed the weapons over to Crowley, who locked them in a cabinet. Only then did he release the Winchesters from their bonds.
Sam and Dean glared at Crowley and Metatron, but they made no move to attack. They were in Crowley's domain now, and had no weapons; an attack would be pointless. Crowley could vapourize them with one look.
As Metatron drew up a chair beside the desk, Crowley looked at the Winchesters and said, "Fancy a drink?"
Both brothers were fuming, but Sam was also confused. When he'd seen the pit opening up, he'd been sure they were being taken to Lucifer's cage. Now they were sitting in Crowley's office, and he was acting like the host at a cocktail party.
Crowley saw the look on Sam's face, and correctly guessed what he was thinking. "I was just messing with you, Moose," Crowley said, smiling. "Been there, done that."
"What are you babbling about, Crowley?" Dean growled. "Why are we here?"
Crowley sat back in his chair. "I told you," he said casually. "You're here for a trade. You two, for two of your friends. Just sit tight; I have a phone call to make. Sure you won't have that drink?"
The brothers continued to glare at him, but said nothing. Crowley shrugged. "Suit yourselves." He took the white phone out of desk drawer and picked up the receiver.
Bobby was sitting at his own desk reading some files when the Hotline rang. Holy hell, what now?
He took the black phone out of the credenza and picked up the receiver.
"What is it, Crowley?"
"You sound like you're under some stress, Bobby," Crowley said. "Angels giving you a hard time?"
"Get to the point, willya?" Bobby said, rolling his eyes. He was in no mood for repartee.
"Fine." Crowley's voice hardened. "I have Sam and Dean Winchester in my office. I'm prepared to return them safely to Earth, using the barter system."
Bobby frowned. Crowley had the Winchesters held captive in Hell? "Let me hear them," he said to Crowley. The notion was so wild that he needed proof.
Crowley held out the phone for either brother to say something, but they both remained silent. Why the hell should they speak up? Crowley was talking about a trade, and they thought they were starting to get an idea of what he was getting at.
Crowley sighed. "I wish you wouldn't make me do these things," he said to Sam and Dean. Then he nodded at Metatron, who took a knife out of his pocket and slashed both brothers.
"Ow! What the hell?" they yelled, and that was proof enough for Bobby. What was going on? Why was Crowley doing this?
Bobby sighed. He was oddly comforted, hearing the boys yell; they sounded angry, but healthy enough. But what kind of trade was Crowley proposing, and should Bobby even bother to listen?
But it was Sam and Dean, so Bobby needed to at least listen. Just because they were okay now, didn't mean they would remain so.
"What are you proposing, Crowley?" Bobby asked wearily.
Crowley's eyes glistened. "A straight trade," he told Bobby. "Two for two."
"And just who are the two that you would want from me, in exchange?" Bobby asked. He really didn't want to hear the answer to this question, but he had to.
"The Angel Castiel," Crowley replied, then paused for drama.
Bobby rolled his eyes again. Of course. And he supposed he knew who the other one would be. They came as a set, and Crowley had been after her since Day One.
"And the Angel Gail, right?" Bobby said.
But Crowley surprised him. "No, I think I'll be leaving her alone, for the moment."
Bobby had reached the end of his patience. "Who, then?" he growled into the phone.
Crowley was really enjoying himself, now. "I should think that would be obvious," he practically purred into the phone. "You, Bobby. You."
Dean laughed out loud at that. He couldn't help it. Crowley wanted to trade him and Sam, two human beings, for the most powerful Angel he knew, and God? It had taken years, but Crowley had finally lost his damn mind.
Sam did not laugh, but he was thinking the same thing. Crowley was nuts. Bobby had God's powers, now. He could just look sideways at these two losers, and they would explode. And even if there was a way to neutralize Bobby, Sam wouldn't bet against Castiel mopping up the floor with both of them. Cas was deadly when he was angry, and he would be highly motivated to dispatch these clowns, after all they'd put the four of them through.
Bobby couldn't believe it. "So Cas and I are just supposed to walk into Hell, and tag out Sam and Dean?" he said to Crowley. It was so ridiculous it was almost funny.
"If you want your Winchesters to live," Crowley replied evenly.
Bobby thought furiously. He had no doubt that Crowley meant what he was saying. But, why? OK, Bobby could see Crowley wanting to get his hands on Castiel. But Bobby, himself? The Devil wanting to take on God? Had Crowley been watching too many movies?
"Tick tock, Bobby," Crowley said calmly. But he motioned to Metatron again, and again Metatron slashed the brothers, making Sam and Dean yell for Bobby's benefit.
Dean leaped to his feet when Metatron slashed him again. He didn't care where he was, he was going to throttle the little bastard. But Crowley waved his hand. and Dean was slammed back into his chair as if pushed down by invisible hands.
"All right, all right," Bobby snapped. "Give me a minute to call Cas, and I'll call you right back."
Crowley was feeling magnanimous. "Take two minutes," he said, then hung up the phone.
Now what? Bobby thought. He'd better call Cas, see what he had to say. Some choice words, Bobby was sure. He almost smiled. Bobby was upset that the Winchesters had been abducted by Crowley, and he was still puzzled as to why, but he wasn't overly concerned. He thought that Crowley was an idiot to be doing this. Bobby was sure that he and Cas could prevail. Good trumps evil, and a God could certainly defeat a King.
So Bobby sent out the call to Cas on Angel Radio. No reply. He tried again, emphasizing the urgency. Still nothing. What the hell? Where was he?
Castiel was still in Xavier's office. Unbeknownst to him, Xavier had had invisible sigils painted on his office walls in anticipation of the meeting. He knew what a loose cannon Castiel was, and Xavier had told Ignatius before Castiel arrived that he'd taken this precaution with their safety in mind. Normally, Ignatius would have thought that this was a sneaky and underhanded thing to do, but he'd seen how Castiel had behaved at the meeting, and so he'd thought that might be prudent.
And because of the sigils, Castiel's radio frequency was jammed, and he could not hear Bobby at all.
Bobby was frustrated. His two minutes were almost up, and Cas was not responding. He opened his desk drawer and took out the cell phone he kept there for just this type of situation, and called Cas's cell number. But it just rang and rang. No voice mail, even; not that it would do much good for Bobby to leave a message. He slammed the phone down on his desk. The two minutes were now up, and Crowley was going to start slicing and dicing the Winchesters if Bobby did not call back. He picked up the Hotline.
Gail was coming down the hall towards the apartment. She had been sitting outside for a while, but Cas was obviously not back yet, or he would have come out to where she was sitting. She'd been getting restless again.
Was that Cas's phone she heard ringing in the apartment? Gail walked faster, took her keys out of her purse, and promptly dropped them. Damn! And of course, once she picked the keys back up and let herself in, his phone had stopped ringing.
Bobby had to brazen it out. When Crowley picked up the phone, Bobby said, "You get me. That's it. Take it or leave it."
Crowley was annoyed. "That wasn't the deal," he said to Bobby. "What are you trying to pull?"
"What's he saying?" Metatron asked.
"Just a minute," Crowley said into the phone. He glared at Metatron, but said, "He's trying to change the terms. He says we can have him. That's it; just him."
Metatron's mind spun, then clicked. He did have a high opinion of himself, but he was an intelligent individual, and he remembered the ancient rules. He should; he'd transcribed many of them himself. "Take the deal," he told Crowley.
Crowley was getting angry. It was Castiel who he'd really wanted. He had no problem locking Bobby into Lucifer's cage and throwing away the key, but that damn Angel just kept slipping through his fingers, and he was sick of it. "Why should I?" he snapped at Metatron.
Sam and Dean eyed each other, but said nothing. If any kind of deal had to be made, that was the one that made the most sense to them. Bobby was God; they were sure nothing could happen to him.
"Take the deal," Metatron hissed at Crowley again. "Trust me."
Crowley almost laughed. Trust Metatron? Did Metatron have any idea what he was asking?
"Remember who I used to be," Metatron said insistently. He didn't want to say too much within Winchester earshot.
Crowley considered for a moment. He thought he knew what Metatron was trying not to say. The former Scribe of God should know what he was talking about. All right. He would trust Metatron. And if Metatron was wrong, Crowley would throw him in the cage, too. Maybe he would, anyway. The smarmy little bastard was getting on his nerves.
"All right. You have a deal," Crowley told Bobby. "Meet us at the crossroads in five minutes."
He slammed down the phone, not giving Bobby a chance to respond. Then Crowley waved his arms, and the Winchesters were chained again.
Crowley looked at Metatron. "Outside. Now."
When they were outside in the hallway, Crowley wheeled on Metatron. "What do you know that I don't?"
A great many things, I imagine, Metatron thought. But he didn't say this aloud. Crowley was already angry enough at being denied Castiel.
So Metatron went on to explain to Crowley that with Bobby M.I.A., locked away in Lucifer's cage, the High Office would fall to Castiel. However, before he was allowed to take the Office, the ancient rules required that he go through the tribunal process. The tribunal would be run by Xavier, and it was a witch-hunt. With Castiel's record, he would surely be railroaded into prison, or maybe even receive the death penalty. And Xavier would do everything he could to make sure it was the latter, Metatron was sure. So, Crowley didn't need to take possession of or murder Castiel, he could simply sit back and let Heaven do it for him. Then Xavier would be God, and he would owe them one, for having gotten Bobby out of the Office in the first place.
Crowley considered this for a moment. While not nearly as satisfying as having Castiel as a prisoner in Hell would have been, what Metatron said made a certain amount of diabolical sense. The end result would be the same. Crowley couldn't let his anger get the better of him in this situation.
So he capitulated, and he and Metatron went back into the office to transport the Winchesters back to Earth for the handover.
Shortly after Gail had gone back into their building to await his return, Castiel appeared on the street in front of it.
Xavier and Ignatius had walked him to the door of Xavier's office, and then Xavier had practically pushed Castiel out into the hallway. Castiel had not looked pleased, and Xavier knew he wanted to leave. But it wouldn't do to have Castiel know that he couldn't disappear from within the office, due to the presence of the sigils. Xavier thought he might have to use that tactic on the rogue Angel again, in the future.
So Castiel had vanished once outside the office, and now he was looking at the park bench he knew Gail favoured. He'd half expected to see her sitting there. Castiel knew she'd been feeling restless having to stay inside all the time, deferring to his concerns for her safety. He was uneasy even with the idea of her sitting out here all by herself, but Castiel knew he couldn't keep her caged up, either. Nor did he want to.
But the game was changing now, and the scroll in his pocket outlined the latest threat, a threat that trumped everything.
Castiel walked over to the bench and sat down, taking out the scroll and turning it around and around in his hands. He needed a moment to think before talking to Gail.
He knew he couldn't stand trial. With all of the things he'd done? The process might go on for days. But the verdict would be swift and decisive, he was sure. So Castiel decided he would have to go away somewhere, someplace Xavier couldn't find him.
But what would happen to Gail if he just picked up and left? Could he just leave her like that, anyway? He'd promised himself they'd never be apart again. On the other hand, Cas had also told her that he didn't want her to suffer due to her association with him. Well, she certainly would suffer, if Xavier had his way.
Cas knew Gail would be all right if she moved back into the bunker with Sam and Dean. They were like brothers to her now, and they would protect her. And when they went out on cases, she would be in the safest place he knew of. Unless she wanted to go with the Winchesters on the road. Gail could defend herself now, and Castiel had witnessed her kill with her blade. Maybe he should just set her free.
What of all their enemies, though? What if Gail left the bunker on her own, as he'd been fearing she was ready to do here, and Crowley went for her? What if Bobby was wrong about Chuck, or Aurielle? Without Castiel around, Gail could potentially walk around any corner in Heaven and find one of those two waiting for her with a blade in their hand. And neither Sam nor Dean would be able to do anything about that, would they? And yes, Bobby was Gail's friend now too, but even though he was God, he could only be so vigilant. He had a lot more on his plate than looking after her, and he couldn't be everywhere.
And what if Bobby were to be impeached in Castiel's absence? Xavier would take over as God, and he would be very angry that Castiel had skipped out on the tribunal. Grudges were a big part of Xavier's makeup, and Cas could envision him going after Gail on the morals charge, out of sheer spite. If she were to be found guilty, and she surely would be, a prison term might be a gift. Didn't they stone fallen women to death, back in the ancient times?
Castiel's blood ran cold just thinking about it. There was no way he could abandon Gail like that. And if he were honest with himself, Cas didn't want to go anywhere without her. And even though it would be an awful lot to ask of her, he thought she would feel the same.
Cas appeared in front of Gail in the apartment. His mind was made up.
She rushed over to him, and he wrapped his arms around her. Had be really even briefly considered leaving without Gail by his side? He'd sooner have an arm and a leg amputated.
"How did it go?" Gail asked him. She was looking up at him with bright eyes, hopeful that things might be better, and he was going to have to ask her dismantle her whole life.
"We have to leave. Now," Castiel told her.
Gail was puzzled. "Leave? Where?" she asked.
"Away. We have to get away from here." It was all Cas could seem to say. Now that he'd made up his mind that they had to flee, the magnitude of what he was suggesting made him revert back to his old speech patterns.
"What are you talking about?" Gail asked him, taking a couple of steps back. "What's going on?"
Castiel cursed himself. Of course Gail was confused. She'd thought he was coming back from a mere meeting, and he'd shown up blathering about leaving. But his fear was gnawing at him now, and he sensed that there was very little time to spare. If they did not get out of here now, it might be too late.
"Would you do me a favour, Gail? Please trust me. Let's pack our clothes and I'll explain on the way, OK? And if you don't agree with me once I've told you everything, we'll come right back, I promise." He took her hands in his. "You trust me, don't you?"
Gail saw the fear and panic in his eyes. It was strange; she'd seen many emotions there in all the time she'd known Castiel, but she had never seen him look like this. It had to be something serious, even deadly, that was causing that look.
She nodded. "Of course I trust you." Gail smiled briefly, wanting to reassure him that whatever was wrong, they would work it out together. But even though his expression softened a bit, Castiel did not smile back.
So she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and said, "Let's go, then."
Gail headed to Castiel's room, and he followed. They threw their clothes into the bags they'd taken to Las Vegas and Gail rushed to the nightstand, grabbing the picture she'd propped up against the lamp and the remainder of the money that Cas had put there.
They came back out to the living room and Gail got her purse. She noticed Cas's cell phone on the dining room table and went to fetch it, but he said, "Leave it. And yours, too."
She looked at him for a moment, but she saw the grim look on his face, so she took her cell phone out of her purse and laid it on the table beside his. She lingered for a moment. The phones were to be left behind, the apartment abandoned? What the hell were they doing?
But they loved each other, and Castiel had only ever protected her, and looked out for her best interests. This had to be the right thing to do. She trusted him implicitly.
"Just a minute," Castiel said. He strode up to the table and punched a few buttons on his cell phone, nodded at something he saw on the screen, and then turned off the phone. Then he walked back to where they'd left the bags and picked them up, looking at Gail again. "OK, let's go," he said to her. A beat. "Please."
They walked out of the apartment and down to the street.
"Where to?" Gail asked.
"The nearest tattoo parlour," he said inexplicably. "There's one just a few blocks from here." Castiel started to walk up the street and Gail followed. Of all the things he could have said, she would never have expected that. They clearly had a lot to talk about.
Bobby was standing at the crossroads, waiting, when the ground started to open up just beyond his feet. He backed up in shock, until his back was almost against the Impala. When he'd seen it parked there, just abandoned on the road, Bobby knew Dean must be in Hell. He'd never have willingly left his Baby here like that, otherwise. Bobby had allowed himself a brief smile at that thought.
But what he was seeing now was no laughing matter.
Crowley and Metatron rose from the pit, holding the Winchester brothers between them. Sam and Dean were chained together and had a few visible cuts, but other than that, they looked OK.
Bobby was feeling apprehensive, but he was God, and he had to come off as strong; invincible.
"Let's do this, then," he said to Crowley, stepping forward. "Let them go."
Crowley waved his hands, and the chains fell from the brothers.
"Off you go, boys," he said softly.
Sam and Dean walked towards Bobby, and Bobby started walking towards where they stood. The three men met in the middle and looked at each other. What the hell are we doing? Dean's look said. Are you sure you want to do this, Bobby? said Sam's. But Bobby tried to reassure them: I got this, guys.
Once the exchange had been made, Dean automatically felt for a weapon, but of course he had none left.
"I think you'll understand why I couldn't return your things to you, Dean," Crowley said with a little humour in his voice. "In fact, I think you just demonstrated why." Then he smiled. "I'll have to find out if there's a Fed Ex in the neighbourhood, so I can return them to you."
Crowley was the only one who found that funny. Sam and Dean continued to glare at him and Metatron. It was a good thing their eyes weren't lasers, Crowley thought, or he and Metatron would look like Swiss cheese by now.
But, no matter. The deal was done, even though it wasn't the deal he had envisioned. But everything would work out in the end, and this was a satisfactory first step. It was about time his side had a victory.
"As usual, it's been a pleasure," Crowley smirked. He did the hand wave again, and now Bobby was the one in chains. Bobby wasn't too worried. He'd make sure he got these two away from the Winchesters, and then he'd unleash the wrath of God on these two Demons. Literally.
Then they descended, and Crowley and Metatron hit Bobby with both barrels, rendering him briefly unconscious. And when he woke up, Bobby was in a cage. A figure stepped out of the shadows at the far side of the cage.
"Welcome to my humble abode," Lucifer said. A slow grin spread across his face. "I'm so glad to have a roommate again. We're going to have such a good time, Bobby."
Bobby stared at him, then rose quickly from the floor. He had no idea who this guy was, but Bobby didn't like the way he was looking at him. Like Bobby was a seven-course meal, to be savoured.
He looked around at the cage, then down at himself. The chains were gone, and Bobby had complete freedom of mobility. Crowley had to be kidding, right? Did he think a cage was going to hold God? Hell or not, he was busting out of here, now.
Bobby summoned up all his power and extended his arms, but nothing happened. He tried again. Nothing. What the hell?
His cellmate cleared his throat. Bobby turned around to look at him. "What?" Bobby said, anger and fear rising in his throat.
"Do you know where you are?" the man asked him.
"In Hell," Bobby replied shortly.
His cellmate was still smiling. "Thank you for that news flash. I just thought global warming had finally kicked in."
Demon or not, this guy was going to get an ass-kicking in a minute, Bobby thought. "What are you talking about?" he snapped. He was still trying to summon up his powers, and still, none were forthcoming.
"You're in the pit of Hell. In a cage," the man said. "Come on, Bobby, you're better than that."
Bobby WAS better than that, but he'd been thrown a curveball, and it took him a moment to adjust his swing. He gaped at his cellmate. No! It wasn't possible.
His cellmate brightened. "Ah. The light dawns, at last." He walked up to Bobby and extended his hand. "Hi, I'm Lucifer. Your new best friend." He looked Bobby up and down with an exaggerated leer. "Or your Significant Other, maybe. I haven't decided yet."
Balls! This was bad. It was beyond bad. What the hell had Bobby done? If he ever saw Cas again, Bobby was gonna fall at his feet and apologize for every time he'd ever criticized him for making a bad decision.
"Your 'God Lite" skills won't work in here," Lucifer continued, amusement dancing in his eyes. "God Himself, the original God that is, built this enclosure to imprison me, and it's escape-proof. Believe me, I've tried." Lucifer looked at Bobby with mock sadness. "Only our Father can break its seals. You may currently have the title, but you don't have the power."
Lucifer sat down on the floor of the cage. "Might as well have a seat." He gestured to the floor in front of him. "Let's get better acquainted."
Bobby glared down at him defiantly, but he was scared. Sam had been Lucifer's last cellmate, and when Sam had miraculously returned, he'd been insane.
Lucifer cocked his head to the side and affected a pout. "Pity Brother Castiel couldn't have joined us. He's got such a rich history. His mind would have been like a box of chocolates; you truly never know what you're going to get. And he's kind of cute, too."
Lucifer smiled up at Bobby. "But you're no slouch, either. Abusive, alcoholic father. Dead wife. In fact, she died twice, did she not? All those years as a Hunter. So many murders, so little time. Oh, and our dear departed Rowena. How was she? Do tell."
Bobby tried his best to ignore Lucifer as he kept up his running commentary, listing all of Bobby's sins and poking at the sorest spots of Bobby's life. But Bobby knew that eventually, Lucifer would get inside his head. There was no escape. Hell was forever, and sooner or later, Bobby would succumb.
After the ground closed up and Bobby was gone, Dean found his cell phone on the pavement where he'd left it and called Cas. Cas would know what to do.
But the number just rang and rang. Neither Cas nor Gail picked up. After all this time, Cas had never gotten around to setting up voice mail.
"I'm a celestial being," he'd told Dean. "I'll know when you need me. Don't worry; I'll always be around."
But he wasn't around now, or at least, he wasn't picking up. So Sam and Dean got into the car and drove over to the apartment. Dean pounded on the door but there was no answer, and when the brothers looked up at the windows from the street below, the place looked dark. They went back upstairs, not knowing what else to do. Were the two of them in Heaven? Maybe they should just wait. But after a few minutes, the brothers realized that would be pointless. They were Angels; it's not like they would just come traipsing down the hall. If they suddenly returned here from Heaven, they'd just appear inside the apartment, and Sam and Dean would never know.
Dean was frantic, though. He was starting to get a really bad feeling about this. Cas had been incommunicado before, but not since Gail had come into their lives. And if Cas wasn't around, Gail always had been. Crowley had wanted Cas in the deal with Bobby, but he hadn't gotten him. Or had he? Maybe Crowley had had Cas and Gail held prisoner this whole time, and had just been messing with the brothers. It certainly wouldn't be the first time he had screwed with them.
That decided it. "Come on, give me a hand here," Dean said, giving Sam a look. Sam knew what Dean was thinking. So they both took a run at the door and after a couple of tries, the door burst open and the brothers were inside.
"Ow!" Dean said, massaging his shoulder.
"Cas? Gail?" Sam called out. No response. He flipped on the hall light. Nobody home.
The brothers looked around, and Sam spotted the two cell phones sitting on the dining room table. He picked them up and looked at each one curiously.
"Their cell phones," he said to Dean. They looked odd sitting there side by side, like they'd been deliberately placed that way.
They walked into the bedrooms; first Gail's, then Cas's. The first bedroom had looked unused, and the second room was empty too, though the bed was unmade. Sam noticed something, though. There were a couple of hangers on the floor of the closet, and the closet was empty. He yanked open the bureau drawers. Empty. No clothes anywhere. Where were the clothes Cas had bought in Las Vegas?
Sam walked back to the other room and found no clothes there, either. Then, he knew. Even if Cas had gotten rid of his Vegas clothes, there was no way. He knew Gail had a number of different outfits, and she'd bought more for their trip.
Dean was standing in the middle of the living room, frustrated. He'd come to the same conclusion as Sam. Their friends had taken a powder. Had Cas been so scared of the threats to Gail that he'd moved her elsewhere? But where was safe, really, when all your enemies were otherworldly beings? And why hadn't they told Sam and Dean where they were? It wasn't logical for their clothes to be gone if they were in Heaven, or in Hell, for that matter. The two of them were just...gone.
What the hell were they supposed to do now? God was being kept prisoner in Hell, and their two Angel best friends were mysteriously missing. But he and Sam were humans, stuck here on Earth.
Sighing, Dean did the only thing he could do, and when Sam came out to where his brother stood, he did the same thing. They sank to their knees and prayed.
Castiel and Gail were sitting in the waiting area of the tattoo parlour when they both heard the brothers' prayers.
During the walk it had taken to get there, Cas had told her all about the meeting with Xavier and Ignatius, the tribunal process, and the summons he had in his pocket.
"Why are you so sure Bobby will be impeached?" Gail asked.
"He had a relationship with the mother of the King of Hell," Cas said. A smile was tugging at the corners of his mouth despite the seriousness of the situation, and his nervousness to get going before it was too late. "The hardliners tend to frown on that sort of thing."
Gail figured he was probably right. Look how upset they were about her and Cas, and they were both Angels.
Now that she'd heard the whole story and understood how things really were, Gail agreed that Castiel could not attend the tribunal. They'd eat him alive. But: "What's the penalty for NOT showing up for the hearing?"
He breathed a laugh. "Does it really matter?"
Cas had a point. At least he hadn't just taken off without her, Gail thought. The Castiel she'd known before Las Vegas might have done just that, thinking he was doing the right thing. The noble thing. But they had grown so close now that they were just like two halves of a whole, and she was glad he hadn't left without her.
But, where were they going to go? And what were they going to do when they got there? What about Sam and Dean, and Bobby?
Castiel didn't really have any answers for her. He hadn't exactly worked any of that out yet. The urgent thing had been to get to the tattoo parlour; afterwards, they would have more time to work out a plan.
Just before they'd entered the place, Castiel slowed down for a moment. He put down the bags and took her hands in his. "I know you're wondering why we're here," he said to Gail. Of course she was; she was still new to being an Angel, and he'd hoped she would never have to use this particular knowledge.
"We have to be warded," Castiel explained to her. "That means that no other Angel will be able to detect us."
Oh, she thought. Well, that made sense. If they were on the run from Heaven, that sounded like a good idea to her. But, wait: Look where they were. Oh, no.
"Does that mean we have to get tattooed?" she asked him.
He nodded. "Yes."
Gail's heart sank. She really didn't want to get a tattoo. But, she'd have to suck it up. These were serious issues they were facing, and she couldn't afford to be squeamish about it.
So she sighed but said nothing, and they'd gone into the place. Castiel had drawn the symbol they needed to have done on a piece of paper, and they had been waiting their turn to go in when they'd heard Sam and Dean's prayers.
They looked at each other. Gail smiled; she should have known. They'd probably tried calling, maybe even dropped by the apartment, and were frustrated that they couldn't get a hold of the couple.
Gail was still so new to hearing prayers that she could only pick up bits and pieces of what the brothers were saying. As far as she could tell, they had indeed been trying to reach the couple, and were wondering where they'd gone. She thought it was sweet that Sam and Dean were concerned, and a little bit funny that they had resorted to praying to them. She'd have to tease Dean about that, the next time she saw him. Then, Gail sighed. Under the circumstances, she wondered when that would be.
But Cas heard everything. Sam and Dean were telling him about the trade Crowley had made for Bobby. What should they do, if anything?
Cas was puzzled. Why would Crowley want Bobby? Yes, Bobby was God now, but in all of history, the ruler of Heaven and the ruler of Hell had always had an unspoken detente. And Crowley held no particular animosity for Bobby; they went way back, along with the Winchesters, and himself. There must be a reason Crowley wanted to speak with Bobby. Usually these types of meetings would be held on neutral ground, i.e. Earth, but if Bobby had agreed to go, everything must be OK, Castiel reasoned. Bobby had God's powers, and would be in no danger.
Castiel was missing two very vital pieces of information. Communication by prayer was a very inexact science; usually the recipient heard the tone of the prayer, more so than the content. Sam and Dean were coming through as more puzzled than alarmed. They too were wondering why Crowley would want Bobby, but the brothers also believed that because Bobby had God's powers, he could handle himself all right. Since this feeling was coming through clearly, Castiel was by extension not especially alarmed.
The second and most important piece of information that was not relayed to Castiel was the fact that Crowley had originally asked for Castiel himself to be included in the deal. This fact would have raised a red flag, and Castiel would have known there was something more sinister afoot than just a summit meeting. But the brothers had not mentioned this fact, thinking that Cas would feel extremely guilty if he knew that he had not been available when Bobby had tried to reach him. And he would have, too. Had Castiel known that, his conscience would never have allowed him to go on the run with Gail.
But he did not know these things, so Cas decided to put the brothers on the back burner for now and go ahead with the original plan. Getting himself and Gail warded was the top priority; after that, and after they figured out where they should go next, they would figure out a way to contact Sam and Dean. Cas did feel a little bad about running out on his friends this way, but it was the way that things had to be. Bobby had his own problems, and Sam and Dean were humans. He and Gail needed to take care of themselves now, and of each other.
They were called in next. Gail had asked if they could go in together; she had never gotten a tattoo before, and she'd heard that it hurt. Cas had warded himself once before when he'd been human and under attack by his fellow Angels, so he knew what to expect. He wished he could tell her that it wouldn't hurt, but he would be lying, so he settled for holding her hand, instead.
"Any chance I could get a butterfly?" Gail joked nervously. Castiel smiled gently, and when the needle began to pierce Gail's skin, she winced. It was a little bit funny, Cas thought. Gail had been in so many dangerous situations since they'd met, and here she was, afraid of a needle.
"Squeeze my hand as hard as you want," he said to her. "It'll be over, in a minute."
The irony was not lost on Gail, either. She'd been stabbed twice before, and tortured with an Angel blade, but she would swear this hurt more. Still, she stayed as brave as she could. For Cas.
Then, once they were warded, the two Angels rented a car and hit the road. Since identification was required to rent a car, which they did not have, Cas had had to apply a little persuasion in the form of two fingers to the forehead of the clerk. Gail had smiled at that. Life on the road as Angels was certainly different from life on the road as humans.
Once he was behind the wheel, Cas turned to Gail and said, "Pick a direction."
She smiled again. This was starting almost to feel like another holiday to Gail, an adventure. "North," she said. "I've always heard good things about Canada."
There had been Ten Commandments, it was said. There were also:
Two Angels in Heaven, once co-conspirators; one with dark thoughts, and one who had crossed over to the light.
Two current co-conspirators in Hell, both hungry for more power by whatever means necessary.
One dead witch, whose impulsive gift to the only man she'd ever loved would affect the lives of a few still living.
Two humans at the centre of it all, now torn between staying at home to await word from their friends, and going back on the road to do the job they loved.
Two Werewolves turned Hellhounds, trapped in Hell's kennel, waiting to lose their souls.
Two Angels on the run from Heaven, cut off from their friends, and about to enter a strange new world.
One retired God of Creation, as yet unaware of the immoral things that were being done in His name. One hardline Angel, about to proclaim himself God, and lay waste to his enemies.
And the current God, sitting on the floor of Lucifer's cage, slowly being driven insane.
- END OF BOOK 3. -
