Lightning crackled and spat across the doorway, blue streaks of electricity that barred Sam from retreating back to the chamber where Cas and Dean presumably still were. Knowing time was everything, Sam turned and shakily headed for the only other option. He didn't know where the next heavy wooden door led, or even if it was unlocked, but as Lauren gathered herself from the floor, he was well aware he had no choice.
It was fortunate Lauren seemed disorientated too. She was wobbly when she reached out to cast a spell at Sam's fleeing form. It missed and went wide, shattering the room's second door to splinters. Sam gave his head a sharp shake and moved with renewed swiftness.
As the witch took aim again, Sam dived through the doorway. He hauled himself up and on, finding himself in a new, wider and far more modern looking tunnel. The walls were still brick, but they didn't carry the grime of age. It was obvious they had been an addition within the last several decades.
An equally modern staircase ascended to an archway. Sam used the cold wall to lean against and hobbled up the steps. When he came through the arch, he burst out into the cramped, grey space of a family mausoleum. Each of the marble plaques read the given name and year of birth and death of a member of the Winters. Sam's quick mind pasted together that five of the deaths had occurred on the exact same date of the same year.
With something of a subconscious need to believe his brother was alive, the younger Winchester resolved to relate this to Dean. For now, Sam knew he had to keep moving. He could circle back around and hopefully find the main way into the underground system.
Sam's muscles rippled in his shoulders as he heaved the marble door open. A fiery pain lanced through his back but, panting, he did his best to ignore it. When he came out into sunlight, it was to rows of gravestones. Had Dean or Abigail been there, they could have explained that this was the town cemetery onto which Mulberry Estate had backed.
Shoving Ruby's knife back into his jacket pocket, Sam decided against doing the same with his pistol. Whether he came across civilians or not, he needed to try and slow Lauren down.
/
Dean blinked. For a moment he was confused. Hadn't he just been arguing with – And then it hit him.
'Damnit, Cas.'
Abigail was gone too, he realized, and the chamber was empty. Apart from the body of one of the men he'd noticed at Sal's bar. Considering the corpse still had its eyes, Dean concluded the killer had been Sam and not Cas. So where had his brother gone?
As he eased himself into a sitting position, Dean winced. Although he barely recalled what he'd been through between the present and feeling hot and ill at the bar, his head pounded. He wiped a hand over his face and spat more blood.
'Alright, Dean,' he muttered to himself, 'You gotta find Sammy.'
When he was standing and there was only one of everything instead of three, Dean limped to where the body lay. Relief washed over him when he saw his pistol in the belt of the dead man. He yanked it free and ran a hand over the familiar engraving. Dean Winchester always felt better with a gun in his hand.
The next port of call was apparently choosing a tunnel.
Dean glanced at the twin openings that stood only a few metres from each other. Both were dark and unlit. For all appearances they were identical, except that only one probably led to Sam.
'Crap.' He huffed a bone-weary sigh. 'Screw it: eeny meeny miney moe.'
The rhyme had landed his gaze on the right hand tunnel. With no other option and no other ideas, Dean walked into the darkness.
/
Warned by a deafening rumble overhead and bits of rock falling at her feet, Abigail had thrown her arms over her head as the world caved in. Now she was squeezed between two enormous blocks of ceiling, trapped by a third that had fortunately fallen horizontally across its fellows. Trying to remind herself that there was air enough to breathe, she clenched her fists until her nails left sickle-shaped cuts in her skin.
Thankfully, sunlight as well as oxygen had managed to worm its way through a few fissures and holes. The shafts of pale gold turned what could have been pitch blackness into a gloom she could handle. Not for the first time, Abby silently cursed that her power wasn't something physical. Tapping into a person's memories could only be so useful.
She puffed at a tress of luminescent blue hair. I can't just sit here, she told herself. They need me. Twisting around in the tight space, Abigail found a tiny gap where one of her prison's supports met the accidental roof. Squinting, she peered through.
It was worse than she'd expected. What had moments before been an underground room was now completely open to the sky. Gravestones, shattered wooden coffins and mostly-decomposed skeletons jutted from soil that had poured atop the rubble. Beneath that, lay the stone that had once separated the cemetery from Mulberry Estate's hidden storage room.
Abigail guessed the chamber where she had been tricked into hurting Dean Winchester had been directly beneath the mansion. Or rather, where the huge building had stood before its demolition.
There was no sign of the angel - Cas. Swapping her eye for her mouth, Abigail called his name. For a moment she thought she heard a muted reply. When there was neither movement nor louder shout, she resolved hope was making her hear things. Having never met an angel before, Abby was unsure Cas had survived. Did a huge piece of stone trump angelic power?
She withdrew and swallowed, trying to return some moisture to her dry mouth. At the same time, she sucked in a breath filled with dust. Her coughing fit drowned out any noise of Cas' approach.
Black hair and trenchcoat sprinkled with dirt, a bleeding cut above an eyebrow, Castiel clambered over the debris beyond Abigail's prison. The ceiling's collapse had surprised the angel as much as the (albeit magical) human and he had barely managed to scramble into the shelter of the huge wardrobe. Earth, gravestones, coffins and stone had built up around him, but he had escaped mostly unscathed.
Aware of the blood trickling down his face, Cas decided that finding Abigail took priority. He didn't know how badly she might be injured and, if it was even worse than that, he would need all his supernatural energy to resurrect her. His borrowed Grace lent him much of the power his true Grace would, but there were many limitations.
Cas stepped awkwardly over a splintered coffin and half-fell down a slight slope of rubble and earth. As he slid to a stop at the bottom, his boots bumped into a thick slab of yellow-ish stone. Judging by its size, it had not so long ago been part of the storage room ceiling. From a nearby hole he heard a long exhalation.
'Abby?' he called, his husky voice made coarser by the dust still floating in the air.
'You're alright!'
The cry came from behind the gap. Cas knelt beside it to peer through. At the other end, he could just make out blue hair and a staring violet pupil.
'Are you injured?' he asked.
'I don't think so,' came the anxious reply. 'I reckon it mostly missed me.'
'Good.'
'Can you – Can you get me out?'
Cas levered himself to his feet and surveyed the damage. If he could find the strength to lift the stone slab on top, then Abby would be freed in no time. He summoned his Grace. It burned to life in his veins, flooding his vessel with familiar warmth. Cas could tell, however, that his "mojo" had been quite weakened in transporting himself and Sam, his encounter with Lauren Winter's immobilization spell, and sending Dean to sleep.
'Cas?' Abby's voice came through the gap again.
He leaned down, his semi-chapped lips a grim line. 'Hold still. I'll move this stone.'
'Wow… Okay.' There was rustling as Abigail tried to make herself as small as possible.
Cas felt along the slab's base for any handholds. When he'd managed to squeeze his fingers into position, he started to push. The muscles of his vessel strained, standing out beneath his plain white dress shirt. Jimmy Novak had been strong, but this was a task plain human strength could never achieve. Not alone.
The angelic blue glow that was Grace itself blazed from Cas' eyes. It rippled under his skin like something alive. It seemed to even dim the sun. Beneath the onslaught, the thick slab began to grate backward. Abigail wrapped her arms around her face as dust pattered down over her. Cas gritted his teeth.
He sensed the presence behind him moments before the witch struck. A red-haired woman lunged at the angel with startling ferocity. Cas sidestepped at the last second and shoved her hard against the stone. Her torso folded over the slab's surface. She grunted but kicked out. His kneecap belted inward, Cas found himself kneeling against his will. Moving the stone had made him weak.
The witch turned, panting heavily, hair spilling across her face. Her expression and dishevelled appearance lent her an air of madness. Cas felt the chill of steel at his throat and tilted his head back.
'It's a pity you're needed alive, angel.' She spat the name of his race as though it was a bad taste in her mouth.
'Alive?' Cas echoed, blue eyes searching her face. 'Who needs me alive?'
The witch simply smirked. 'You'll find out soon enough, sweetheart. And so will your friends.'
'Where is Sam?' Cas' demand was harsh, his eyes narrowed. 'What have you done with him?'
'The tall one? Nothing yet.' She licked her lips provocatively. 'Don't fret. You'll see him soon.'
Her face twisted. The witch screeched and clutched at her chest. She was shunted to the ground, where she lay writhing until she died. Abigail stood with a bloodied shard of rock in one hand. Her violet eyes passed over the witch's body before she tossed her makeshift weapon aside. She stepped forward and helped Cas to his feet.
'Thanks,' Cas grunted. 'How did you get free?'
Abby nodded to the slab. 'You'd moved it just enough for me to wiggle through. It was a bit of a challenge getting my hips through –' She slapped her sides for emphasis – 'But I managed.'
Cas nodded. 'I'm glad you did.'
'Yeah.' Abigail winked up at him. 'Me too.'
Cas smiled awkwardly, unsure quite what to make of this odd girl with bright blue hair and strange eyes.
She laughed at him good-naturedly. Then she sobered and jerked her chin toward a slope of rubble that led to level ground. 'Looks like we have to go that way.'