Chapter 10 - Waking Up and Settling In

Sam woke up with a pounding headache the next day. His mouth was dry, and his tongue felt thick enough to choke him. Even the faint light from his bedside lamp seemed like a blinding fluorescent spear stabbing into his skull.

Memories of the night before surfaced. Fuck.

Something had snapped inside of him when Cas had departed the day before. Truthfully, the angel's presence was one of the few things that was keeping him even remotely sane. His brother was a damn demon, and if he had to somehow handle that load completely alone, he was likely to either drink himself to death either by accident, or on purpose.

It was pathetic, but right now, he needed Cas. Really, relying on an angel that was probably going to die sooner rather than later was a bad idea, but Cas was like family to him, even though they'd had their ups and downs over the years. Regardless of what happened in the past, Cas was here and on his side now, and that was what mattered.

Sam sat up slowly, running a hand through his long hair and letting out a heavy, ragged sigh. He glanced up once he was brave enough to crack open his eyes. There was a note on the inside of the door that read 'kitchen' in blocky letters, presumably left by Cas.

That meant the angel was still in the bunker, which Sam found surprising. Cas sticking around for any length of time was atypical. Then again, from what little Sam remembered of the night before, he'd had a pretty horrendous breakdown in front of the angel. Cas probably felt like it was his duty to look after him, now.

Naturally. Cas was dying, and his first concern was Sam. The angel really had picked up a thing or two from Dean over the years, hadn't he?

Sam rose from his bed, his limbs stiff and aching. He checked the clock. It was past noon. He never slept that long. He was relatively sure that Cas had put some kind of sleep spell on him the night before, as he hadn't slept twelve hours at a time since his brush with the demon trials the year before.

He made his way out of his room, the bunker floor cold underneath his bare feet. He made his way to the kitchen. Cas was at the counter, a stack of bread slices to one side of him and jars of peanut butter and jelly to the other. He looked up when he saw Sam enter, a knife covered in jelly held in his right hand. The angel seemed almost relieved to see him.

"Sam, you're awake."

"Yeah." Sam shuffled awkwardly, unsure of what to say to Cas. "Uh… thanks, Cas. For staying, I mean."

"There's no need to thank me, Sam. You were right. We need to stick together in wake of what has happened. I apologize for not seeing that earlier."

"No, I – I get it. The whole world doesn't revolve around me, or Dean."

"Actually, the world does tend to revolve around you and your brother," Cas replied with what might have been a flicker of a smile. "We need to get Dean back. It's a priority. There is no telling what kind of damage Crowley would be able to do, with a demon as powerful as Dean is likely to be at his side."

The idea of Crowley using Dean as his own personal hellhound made Sam sick down to his core. His hands clenched into fists at his side, blunt nails digging into the meat of his palms.

"I want that bastard dead," Sam said. "God, do I want him dead."

Cas's expression became grave as he turned to face Sam. "Crowley deserves far worse than that."

Sam nodded, seating himself at the table. "But for Crowley, there's nothing worse than that. He's all about self-preservation."

"That's true."

"Except…" Sam's brow furrowed. "No. There is something worse than death, for him."

Cas narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"

"Being cured," Sam said, pursing his lips. "Then he'd actually feel guilty about everything he'd done. All the lives he's ruined."

"When we find Crowley and Dean, perhaps we should do that," Cas said, and Sam noticed that he said 'when' rather than 'if'. He wished he was as optimistic as the angel. "It would be fair retribution, given the fact that Crowley essentially forced a species change on Dean."

Nothing was really fair anymore, so he would take what he could get. He couldn't help but wonder, in the back of his mind, if Crowley would even be able to survive becoming human; if how Crowley had acted during his last curing was any indication, the weight of his existence as a demon could feasibly crush him. Would Crowley take his own life, if he was turned into a human?

Sam didn't want to analyze the part of himself that would be darkly satisfied by that outcome.

"Yeah, well, we have to track him down before we can do anything," Sam said at length.

"Yes," Cas nodded. "Unfortunately, another issue has arisen."

"Is this about yesterday? Why you and Gadreel left?"

Another nod from the angel. "There is trouble in Heaven."

Sam sighed. "Of course there is." He ran a hand over his face, preparing himself for bad news. "How bad?"

"…very."

"Well, don't beat around the bush, Cas."

"It appears that… if things continue as they are, we may see another Civil War in Heaven."

Of course. Heaven had been settled for, what, over a week and a half now? That had to be some kind of record. Sam had known that it was only a matter of time before the Heavenly Host was thrown into turmoil again. He sincerely doubted that the angels would ever be able to actually come back together without extreme bloodshed. They'd been absent a leader for a long time, and creatures like angels, the only thing that kept them from tearing each other's throats out were strong leaders.

Michael was in the Cage. Raphael and Gabriel were dead. God was MIA. The angels were doomed to this constant state of faction war, it seemed.

"Has the fighting started yet?" Sam asked tiredly.

Cas finished making the sandwich and set it down on a plate in front of Sam. "Not yet. Things are peaceful, for the time being, but it is unlikely that they will remain that way. I have left Gadreel in Heaven to keep watch in my absence… as I'm more needed here." He pushed the plate towards Sam. "You should eat something. This will help settle your stomach."

Sam didn't know whether to laugh, cry, or scream. Cas's home and species were on the verge of war once again, and he was here, on Earth, with him, making him fucking PB&J.

Sam picked up one of the sandwiches and took a bite. If there was one human thing Cas could do properly, it was make sandwiches. When Sam swallowed, he looked back up at Cas. "Are you sure leaving Gadreel there is a good idea? Isn't he kind of one of the most hated angels in the history of the universe?"

"I believe that word of his change will spread quickly. Hannah witnessed how far he was willing to go for our kind firsthand, and she will vouch for him."

Sam nodded, though he still wasn't sure it was a wise idea. Gadreel was too easily swayed; look at how quickly he'd switched from their side to Metatron's. Heaven, however, was Cas's domain, and as long as the conflict didn't bleed into the human world, he would leave it to the angel's discretion.

"What are they fighting about this time?" Sam asked as he worked on downing his odd and late breakfast in spite of the unpleasant acrobatics his stomach was doing.

Cas didn't answer at first, seating himself across the table from Sam. The angel looked just as haggard as he had the day before, if not worse. Cas's chest heaved with each breath he took, and his eyes were bright and feverish. When he moved his hands, they shook.

Another problem on their plate… fixing Cas. If only he had some kind of clue of where to start looking for a remedy to his friend's failing Grace.

"An angel named Asmodel wants to restart Armageddon," Cas informed him in a monotone. "Many of the angels have sided with him."

"What!?" Sam nearly choked on his food. "They want to let Michael and Lucifer out of the Cage?"

"It appears so."

"Why?"

"The angels, they're scared… they're lost. We've been clinging to false hopes and different self-proclaimed leaders for a very long time in an attempt to find some kind of guidance. Asmodel… he believes that the world will right itself if we carry out the original plan for the apocalypse."

"If Lucifer and Michael get out of the Cage, there isn't going to be any world to right," Sam replied, horrified.

"That is my opinion as well," Cas responded. "Many of the angels have sided with me, but Asmodel's ranks still outnumber mine. I have currently ordered all those loyal to me not to engage Asmodel's forces in any way, shape, or form, but if they choose to attack us first… I don't know what will happen."

"Another war will break out," Sam said lowly. "And if Asmodel's side wins-"

"They currently have no way to open the Cage and raise Lucifer and Michael," Cas cut across him. "That, at the least, is in our favor."

Understanding dawned on Sam. "Last night... that's why you asked me about the Horseman rings, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"Well? Did you find them?"

Cas looked dejected. "They were not in Bobby's vault. It would appear that someone was there before me and took them."

"You don't think-"

"I don't believe that Asmodel or one of his angels took them," Cas assured him. "But… perhaps the Leviathan took them when they burned down Bobby's home?"

Sam's brow furrowed. "They might have," he admitted, but he didn't see why Leviathans would have any interest in opening up the Cage. Maybe they just wanted them as a bargaining piece? But the rings as a whole were completely useless without Death's ring to complete the quartet, weren't they? And Death was still firmly in possession of his own ring...

"Do you have any idea where the Leviathan might have taken the rings?" Cas inquired. Sam finished his first sandwich with a sigh.

"Dick might have wanted them for one reason or another. I don't know what happened to his stuff after you and Dean took him out, though." Sam pursed his lips. "We should look into his estate, see who inherited all of his things postmortem. Maybe we can dig up a lead."

Cas nodded. "It's as good a place as any to start. Can you handle this by yourself?"

"Finding where the rings are at?" Sam shrugged. "I don't see why not. Are you going to go back to Heaven?"

He wanted to be angry, but between the pounding headache and bone-deep emotional and physical exhaustion, he couldn't find it within him to be mad at the angel.

"No," Cas said, pushing himself out of his seat with a somewhat pained expression. "I'm going to go look for your brother."

"Here we are," Crowley said, opening up the door for Veronica and guiding her into her new living quarters.

The room he'd picked for her was expansive, with its own bathroom attached off to the side. None of the bedrooms in the mansion were really used, apart from his own – but Crowley's room was used for just about anything other than sleeping – so he gave her the second biggest bedroom in the large manor.

A large, plush king bed was in the center of the room, flanked on either side by wall length windows. There was a writing desk in the corner, several bookshelves stuffed thick with tomes that he didn't have room for in his own personal library, and there was a sitting area furnished with two leather couches and a large television that had been here when he'd relieved the former owners of their property.

"Home sweet home," he chimed, closing the door behind them. Veronica examined her surroundings, seemingly genuinely surprised as she set her bag down by the bed.

"Um…"

"Expecting a dungeon? Iron restraints and garroting chair included?"

"Kind of."

"Please. I've much more class than that," he told her with a faint smirk. "This could be a very beneficial relationship, Veronica-"

"Ronnie," she corrected, but he continued as if he hadn't heard her.

"-if you're willing to cooperate with me, you'll be allowed to live in the lap of luxury, completely free of chains and whips. Unless that's your thing, of course," Crowley added with a wide smile that was fully intended to be disconcerting. Veronica merely rolled her eyes at him.

"What exactly is it you expect me to do?"

"Simple, love. You have a vision… you write it down." Crowley mimed writing. "And then you give it to me." He gestured at himself, then spread out his hands. "Simple. Easy. Painless, so long as you don't try to hide anything from me."

She swallowed. "Okay, but what do I do when I'm not, you know, being a prophet of the Lord?"

"That's up to you. It's not as if you could escape, even if you wanted to, so you'll have free reign over the property. Try anything funny, and my bruisers will put a stop to it, but as long as you're a respectful guest, I will, of course, be the respectful host in return."

"You're disturbingly polite for a demon," Veronica told him. "I'm kind of waiting for the other shoe to drop and you to start doing something-"

"-evil?" Crowley finished for her. "Well, as I always say… evil is really just 'live' spelled backwards."

"You should get that crocheted on a pillow."

He snorted. Cheeky, this one. Crowley brushed by the prophet and sank down on one of the
couches, crossing his legs.

"Now," he said. "I think you ought to give me a summary of everything you've seen so far, since you got the prophetic zap from the original absent father figure."

Veronica gave him an irritated look at his choice of words, but then nodded. She sat on the opposite side of the couch. It was interesting how wary she was of him. Also something that would work to his benefit; if she was terrified of him and what he might do if pushed, she was significantly less likely to step out of line.

Still, she was being far too agreeable about this… Crowley didn't buy the compliant and docile act, not for a second. Veronica was going to try to resist him at some point, and he had to be prepared for that eventuality. He had to be prepared for anything, really. He wasn't going to let another prophet of the Lord slip through his fingers, especially one that the Winchesters didn't know about yet.

"The first thing I saw was Castiel, Sam, and Gadreel… they were talking about you. About finding you. Cas and Gadreel were searching for you." She frowned. "Cas seemed really sick. Gadreel told him to rest, but he didn't want to."

"So, Gadreel's working with the two of them? Thick as thieves?"

"Yeah. Well, he was working with them. He's up in Heaven now."

"He is?"

"They've kind of got a big problem up there at the moment."

"Don't they always?"

"There's this angel, Asmodel… he wants to start the apocalypse."

Crowley narrowed his eyes at Veronica, clasping his hands over his knee. "And how does he intend to do that?" He couldn't say he was terribly surprised by what she'd just told him; the stupidity of the Heavenly Host had long since become expected, and nothing they did could really shock him anymore.

Pfft. And they say Heaven is above Hell. Hardly.

"By opening up 'the Cage', whatever that is."

Not on his watch, they weren't. The Cage was in Hell, and Hell was his… he'd bloody well like to see an angel try to crack through and get all the way to the Fourth Round of the Ninth Circle before either he or Dean tore them into tiny pieces.

"I see," he said, filing away the information for later consideration. "What else?"

"Sam talked to Cain before Dean killed him," Veronica shared. "He was trying to find out what might have happened to Dean. That's when he found out that he was a demon, and that there was no way to turn him human again."

"Did he now…" Crowley pinned his tongue between his teeth, watching the prophet, who had gone silent. "Is that all Cain told him?"

"Yes," she said, a little too quickly.

"I'm going to give you a bit of advice, darling," Crowley said, keeping his tone perfectly pleasant. "Don't try to scam a scam artist. I can see straight through you… I didn't ask for the cliff notes, I want the extended version with director's commentary. Now..." His eyes drilled into Veronica. "What else did Cain say?"

Veronica glared at him. "I'm not lying. Has it occurred to you that I'm a little nervous, being alone, thousands of miles away from my home and my family, sitting on a couch with the KING OF HELL?" She crossed her arms defiantly. "Sam talked to Cain, Cain told him Dean was a demon, now Cas and Sam are looking for you and looking for a way to stop the end of the world. They're looking for something called the Horseman Rings. That's all I've seen that isn't directly related to you and Dean, all of which you already know. If that's not enough for you, then bring me the hell back home and leave me alone."

Crowley blinked, almost surprised at the prophet's outburst. "My, my. You've got some fire in you after all. Good. Meek doesn't suit you."

She blushed at his sort-of compliment, but he was fairly sure it was just because she was angry.

"Are we done here?" she asked. "That's all I've seen; when I have more visions, I'll tell you. Until then, I'm useless to you."

"Hmm… not useless, no. Never useless." He rose from the couch, straightening the lapels of his suit coat. "If you need anything, just call out for me. If I'm in the building, I'll hear you. If not, Dean or one of my lackeys can help you."

Veronica didn't look thrilled at the idea of Dean paying her a visit. He couldn't say that he blamed her for that.

"Fine," she answered stiffly.

Crowley went for the door. He still had a feeling that the prophet wasn't being wholly truthful with him about Cain and Sam's meeting, but he wasn't going to push it… for now. This was going to be a long process, getting Veronica to trust him enough that she wasn't motivated to hide information from him. He could win anyone over given enough time, and with things in Hell settling down and things in Heaven heating up, meaning that the angels were bound to be distracted, that gave him ample time to charm the prophet into submission.

Really, she was just another deal to close.