The angel took Dean back to Heaven, but not back to Michael's office. Instead he was led down a dark corridor made of cement. The further they went, the darker it grew. Finally, they reached a titanium door with the same lock on it that the door holding the wounded angels had had. Dean didn't like the look of it at all.
There was a guard next to the door, and he began to unlock it. Then he recognized Dean.
"Well, if it isn't my good friend, Dean Winchester." Peter said amiably.
"Peter," Dean said resentfully.
"I'd just like to thank you in advance for giving me my old job back." he said. "I know you'll make the right choice."
With that, he opened the door and the other angel shoved Dean through. Cells lined one side of the room. Across from each cell was a window near the ceiling letting in a thin ray of light. The angel pulled Dean down towards the end. All the other cells were empty, except for one.
"Dean," cried a voice from the second to last cell. Dean knew it was Cas, but he forced himself to just keep staring straight ahead.
Dean was pushed into the last cell, and the angel slammed the bars close behind him, locking him inside.
"Michael hopes you enjoy your gift," the angel said. "and he promises there will be more. This doesn't need to be a battle, and he wishes to remind you that he has all the powers of Heaven behind him. He can make it very worthwhile."
The angel waited for Dean to fall on his knees, thanking Heaven, but most of all Michael, for all the generosity. Dean remained silent and standing from behind the bars.
"This is another of his gifts," the angel continued. "Time to meditate on his offer, and consider your options. Enjoy."
The angel left with a smug look on his face. Dean's mouth twisted in disgust. Faraway, he heard the door close and click shut.
Dean was left with nothing but himself, silence, and Castiel.
"Dean, please listen to me." Cas said.
Dean ignored him and sat in the back corner of the cell.
"Michael seems trustworthy and righteous, but he's not." Castiel pleaded.
"Seems no angels are trustworthy," Dean said. Although he couldn't see Castiel, he could sense the impact it had on him.
"I know you're angry at me and I know I should have told you sooner about being Michael's vessel, but you must believe me that I did not purposely twist our relationship." He said, but Dean didn't acknowledge his words. "Please say something, just so I know you're listening."
Dean brushed the icy wall with his recently reanimated fingers, and felt the solidarity of it underneath his palm as he pressed his hand into the wall and it didn't phase through. He closed his eyes, but didn't say anything.
"Dean, please." Cas begged once more. Dean took a deep breath. For a moment he contemplated answering, but then he balled his hand into a fist and let the silence grow. Castiel gazed sadly at the thick cement wall that separated them, and prayed that Dean would say something soon.
As Sam pulled into Bobby's driveway, he felt guilty for his aversion to coming back. Not that he didn't want to see Bobby, he loved the guy more than he could put into words. He was practically his father. And of course he'd missed Bobby, and there were countless times when he'd pick up his phone with the intention to call but every time the ringing began he realized he didn't know what to say and couldn't bring his vocal cords to move, so he'd just hang up.
It wasn't fair to Bobby, and Sam knew that. But thinking about Bobby led to thinking about his brother. While he'd tried to avoid that for weeks, now it was necessary.
He slowly walked to Bobby's door, his fears propelling him forward. He'd called Bobby to alleviate his fears, but then he heard his serious tone on the phone and immediately put all his other plans on hold.
Before Sam could even raise his hand to knock, the door swung open. Bobby stood there for a moment. Even though Sam had confirmed with him that he was on his way, Bobby had a look of disbelief on his face. Then it was washed away with one of joy as he embraced Sam. Bobby's hug was comforting, the kind of safety one can only feel with a family member. He was disappointed when it ended.
"Bobby, I-" Sam began, looking down at the ground. Bobby slapped him on the back.
"You look good," he said, then his face fell. "You'd better come inside."
Bobby's sudden sober tone worried Sam. He quickly followed him inside. Bobby pulled two beers from the kitchen and motioned towards a chair.
"You might wanna sit down." He said. Sam took the beer and sat down. Bobby took a deep breath and began.
The cold of the prison cell gave Dean's arms goosebumps. Soreness had begun to plague his body. Maybe it was a side-effect of resurrection, but it made his back ache. Since Cas had been silent, there was nothing else to distract him.
Dean wondered what Cas was thinking. What he was doing. He'd been staring at the gray wall, as if waiting for it to come alive and let Dean step through. But it only stood there, silent and unmoving.
He'd considered speaking up many times, but the silence felt impenetrable. Even if he could, he wasn't sure what he'd say to Cas. Perhaps he should let him explain himself, but he didn't want to worsen the heartbreak he felt. The irony that had he felt better when he was dead sickened Dean.
He found himself almost wishing to return to the Waiting Room. In the Waiting Room he wasn't crushed under the weight of the silence. Here he was trapped in the same eternity, except this time he felt utterly alone.
"Dean…" Cas said, bursting the silence himself. "Please understand my intentions. I didn't want to hurt you, I only ever wanted to help Heaven."
"Wouldn't be the first time good intentions went wrong," Dean spit. Although his words were venomous, Cas felt relieved to just hear his voice.
"I acknowledge that I have wronged you," Cas said. "I doubt you'll forgive me but I am sorry."
Dean bit his lip, unsure how to reply. Torn between wanting to move on and scratching at a festering wound, Dean decided to remain silent, which Castiel determined was a good enough sign to keep talking.
"Dean, even if you don't forgive me, it is not worth sacrificing your life and body to spite me."
"But wouldn't it be worth it to save Heaven?" Dean asked.
"No," Cas said immediately. The suddenness and sureness of his words shocked Dean. He paused before replying.
"You have a vessel," he said. "I'm sure it won't be a picnic, but if only for a few days…"
"Dean, don't be foolish," Cas said, slapping Dean with the sharpness of his words. "The strain of being a vessel for an archangel is tremendous, both physically and mentally. If you are not careful, your being may be swallowed by Michael's. It's happened before, vessel and angel merging into one. You'd be lost forever."
Cas's last words of warning echoed through the chamber. Dean stared intensely at the cement wall, behind which Cas sat.
"If you won't do it for me, then do it for yourself," Cas pleaded.
"I don't matter," Dean said. "Heaven is more important."
"Except Michael will not save Heaven," Cas said. "He is a tyrant, and I know he claims to have the best intentions but-"
"You're one to talk about intentions," Dean hissed. There was silence from the wall, but only for a moment.
"Giving Michael the Ring will give him unlimited power, and if you say yes he will get the Ring," Cas said.
"So I should just rot away in this cell for eternity instead?" Dean asked.
"Not for an eternity," Cas said, his voice hesitant for a moment. "Just until the others can get us out."
"They're probably dead!" Dean said. "If we were set up, so were they."
"They are competent, they probably survived."
"Doubtful, but even if they did, do you really think they'd be able to take on Heaven?" Dean asked. Cas didn't answer, and Dean slumped back against the wall.
"If you say yes," Cas said, "then you must accept performing all of Michael's actions, being aware for all of them. And we both know as soon as Michael has fulfilled his first priority, he will move onto his second, which is my swift execution."
Cas let Dean absorb his words for a moment before adding, "If you say yes to Michael, then I will die by your hands and you will be there to witness all of it."
Before Dean could reply, their conversation was interrupted by a slight click of a lock. Dean could hear the door being pushed open, and muffled voices past through. Heavy footsteps marched closer. Dean stood up and brushed dust off his shirt.
The footsteps stopped and the same angel from before appeared. His smug smile had been replaced with a sober frown. He opened the door and Dean stepped out confidently. There was one thing he was sure of.
The angel stopped and began unlocking Cas's cell.
"Michael wants you too." The angel said. Castiel stood up reluctantly. Dean's eyes flickered to look at him. Cas's eyes were even wider and rounder than he remembered.
"Dean," Cas pleaded, one final time. He was worried by what he saw behind those emerald eyes.
"No talking," The angel said. "Move."
So they walked forward in silence. Cas's body heat warmed Dean, and some of his soreness left him as he walked. The walk back to Michael's office seemed even longer than the first time. When they approached the embellished door to Michael's office, Dean braced himself.
Then Cas wrapped his hand around Dean's, and gave it a comforting squeeze. Dean's heart jumped. He looked at Cas, who smiled lightly. Dean could see worry and fear behind his eyes, the eyes of a criminal on death row. Yet he'd put that smile on for Dean.
But then the large doors opened and light poured into the hallway. Cas and Dean let go of each other's hands and steeled themselves. They plunged forward, into the brightness.
"Welcome back," Michael said, greeting them from his throne. His desk had disappeared, and in its place a golden throne had risen up from the floor. He was surrounded by other angels, all in suits and ties, but he was still dressed in his battle armor. He waved his hand and they quickly filed out, not even daring to glance at Cas and Dean.
Michael sat up straight, and held his sword across his lap. He gazed down austere and solemn.
"Are you ready to say yes?" He said, his voice deadly calm. Dean took a step forward, and stared defiantly up at Michael.
"Go to Hell," he said.
The entire room seemed to rumble. There was a high-pitched ringing and the elaborate windows shattered. Dean shielded his head as the glass scattered across the floor. Michael stood up, holding his sword at his side. Silhouettes of his immense wingspan flickered behind him. Dean's eyes widened, but he held his ground.
"Dean," Michael said. "I have been very patient and very forgiving, but you still fight against our cause."
"Maybe you should have thought about that before trapping souls in that crappy Waiting Room!" Dean said. Michael shook his head.
"Clearly you have not thought this through," he said. "Think of your brother."
Dean tensed. There was a flicker behind Michael's eyes.
"You died for him, why not give your body up for him too?" Michael asked. "He's finally achieved what he's wanted his whole life, being free of you and your family, and you're willing to take that all away from him?"
Dean shook his head.
"You're a crappy God, and you won't be able to handle God's power," Dean said. "If Sam were in the same position, he would stick up for humanity too."
Michael took a step down from his throne, and grabbed Dean's neck.
"Don't be so stubborn, Dean" he threatened. Dean grasped for air, but it was useless. He heard Cas yell behind him.
"I am giving you a unique opportunity here and you're ready to throw it all away!" Michael said, shattering his calm demeanor. "You could save your brother, all of Heaven, and yourself. But instead you insist on maintaining this childish rebellion. You wish to return to Castiel's toy army? What will you do? Continue to poke at Heaven with your pathetic raids? I am your only hope-"
But Michael's words were cut off abruptly. He looked at the angel's blade that Dean had thrust into his shoulder. His hands loosened, and Dean fell backwards. Cas ran up to him. Michael gripped the blade.
"How-" He began.
"You should teach your minions to keep a better eye on their weapons." Dean said. Cas helped him up, and Dean took his hand.
"Hurry Dean, before the angels come." Cas said. Dean nodded and they started running towards the door.
For a moment, Dean thought they'd actually make it. Then he heard laughter, and his hope plummeted.
"You thought it would be that easy?" Michael asked. Dean's hand was ripped out of Cas's, and they were thrown apart by an invisible force. Dean slammed into the wall. Shards from the broken window pierced his skin. With effort, he raised his head. He saw Michael gripping Cas and raising his sword in preparation to swing.
"Cas!" Dean shouted, even though he knew it wouldn't help. Michael paused. He slowly turned to look at Dean. There was a sick smile on his face. He shook his head.
"How did I not see it before?" He said, lowering Cas. His anger had disappeared. "Dean, I applaud you for a valiant effort. I am proud to have such a courageous and honorable vessel."
Dean barely heard him. He was staring at Cas across the room. One side of his face had swollen from the impact, and he had also been cut badly by the glass. Michael walked towards Dean, dragging Cas behind him.
"I was not graced with the title, the Righteous One, for nothing, so I will ask one final time," Michael said. "Say yes, or I will execute Castiel."
"You call that righteous?" Dean spit. Michael just smiled patiently. He raised his sword a bit.
"Don't do it, Dean," Cas said through his swollen jaw. Dean looked up at Michael.
"If you're as righteous as you say you are, then if I say yes, you'll agree to my terms." Dean said. Cas protested moaned softly, and Michael waited. Dean continued.
"Leave my brother out of this. Don't. Touch. Him. Or Bobby." Dean looked at Cas. "And I want Cas to come with us."
"To Purgatory?" Michael asked quizzically. Dean nodded.
"Very well," Michael said. Cas reached for Dean, but Michael pulled him back.
"Dean, please," Cas begged. "Michael is the farthest thing from righteous."
Michael threw Cas to the floor. Dean moved towards him, but Michael pushed him back.
"I knew you'd make the right decision." Michael said. "Dean, will you be my vessel?"
Dean gave one last longing look to Cas, then locked eyes with Michael.
"Yes." He said.
There was a blinding light, and Dean could vaguely hear Cas yelling something. Then there was quiet.
Cas tried to drag himself towards Dean, but stopped. Michael had disappeared. Dean stood up, and even though Cas couldn't see his face, he knew it was too late. He could tell just from his body posture, the way he held his shoulders back and chin up. He turned around, and Cas shuddered as Michael stared at him through Dean's eyes.
"Sorry Castiel," he said, adjusting Dean's voice to his speech patterns. "You've lost."
Michael snapped his fingers, and the windows flew back into place. All the cuts disappeared from Dean's face. Michael stretched his arms. He reached down and picked up his sword, the ruby on it twinkling devilishly. He tested Dean's grip and smiled.
"This is most suitable," he said, then he looked down at Cas. "We leave for Purgatory at daybreak."
Things are starting to heat up! If you're enjoying so far, please review! (Even if you're not, I love constructive criticism!)
