Dean is the first to wake. The room has the faint smell of wood smoke. He can hear the gentle crackle of the fire. It brings a mix of memories to the surface. He is warm under the blankets as he begins to stir. He does not recognize the room yet he is not anxious which is a very strange feeling indeed. He rubs his eyes to focus. The room is pitch black with the exception of the fireplace. He leans up on his elbow to see Sam resting in another bed across the room.
The room is dark but looks to be made of stone. The furnishings are substantial. Heavy four post beds. Large dressers of made of dark wood with brass hardware that glitter in the low light. The floor as a worn Persian rug strew across it. If he had to guess the interior looked as if it were out of a castle.
He lies back taking in a moment of tranquility. The smell of the wood smoke is now intermixed with a familiar scent.
"Did you sleep well?" Azrael emerges from the firelight taking a seat on the edge of the bed. She touches his arm where the mark of Cain appears. He is conscious that her touch is with purpose. The touch is soothing and welcome. It seems to ease the burden. Though, he is curious as to why his face aches like he had been in fight. He doesn't remember a fight.
"Yes, but I have a wicked headache." He rubs his face again to survey why it hurts.
"My bad, you kind of landed on your… well your face." Azrael places her hands on his face taking the pain away as her fingers pass over his skin.
"Landed on it?" He gives her a coy look.
"A miscalculation on my part and gravity is a wicked little bitch."
Sam begins to stir at the sound of conversation. He rubs his eyes in disbelief primarily because he is actually sleeping in a bed without a gun beneath the pillow. He would say it was the sleep of the dead if it wasn't in such ironic yet poor taste.
He can hear Azrael and Dean speaking as he raises himself up on his elbow to survey the room and his companions.
"Hey there sleepy head." Dean acknowledges his brother.
"Where are we?" Sam verbalizes the question that is on both their minds.
"You are in my library. Sorry for the need for unusual travel arrangements but I don't normally allow mortals in my lair…living ones at least. Come, you must be hungry."
Both of them realize that they are actually starving. Azrael leads them into another room. This room is also grand and made of stone. In the center is a huge table with all of their collective favorites. "I am unfamiliar with this part of mortality. I hope there is something that you find palatable." Dean and Sam look at each other.
"Yeah, I think we can find something." Dean rolls his eyes. "Please, make yourself comfortable." Azrael motions to the empty chairs. "If you will excuse me, there is something I need to attend to."
The boys settle into the feast as Azrael leaves the room. She walks into the hallway. Something is not right. Something, something, something… she can feel it in her bones. She drops to her knees. The pain is like nothing like she has ever experienced. She grabs the wall to stabilize herself.
The brothers take in their surroundings as they eat. Sam pokes fun at the fact there is even pie.
War walks down the hall to find Azrael. "Azrael." War assists her to her feet. "It's nothing." War knows Azarel well enough to know all is far from fine. "It's nothing." Azrael settles herself on her feet. She has not felt anything like that since Raphael. War leans against the wall as she watches her.
"I'm good." She straightens up and walks into the room with Dean and Sam. Dean can see a change in her. War lingers in the hallway watching.
"How is everything?" She takes a seat near the pair. "It's great." Sam answers as Dean gets up from his chair. He walks to the nearby table and pours a cup of coffee. He returns to the table placing the cup in front of Azrael. Azrael is surprised. "You drink it." She smiles at Dean. "I am familiar with the custom but thank you."
Azrael picks up the cup and takes a sip. It happens again. She drops the cup as she grabs her head. She has Dean and Sam's undivided attention. Sam reaches for her. "It's nothing."
"That is not nothing. I thought you can't die." Sam is actually concerned.
Azrael looks up at him. "I can't"
"It doesn't mean that she does not feel." Castiel is standing in the room. Azrael exchanges a look with Castiel. "Take them."
Dean and Sam watch Azrael drop to her knees in the room before the blackness envelopes them.
Dean wakes up in his bed back in the bunker. He is confused as he takes in the room. He rubs his head and tries to focus. As he sorts his thoughts Sam appears in the doorway.
"I had the weirdest dream." He takes a seat on the end of the bed. "Did it star a weird archangel can't die divine chick that smells like mom? If I does… I had the same dream."