Chapter 10 - Narrative of Soul Against Soul

The smoke cleared after a few moments, and Dean watched as Gibbs rose to his feet, head tilted slightly to the side as he looked over the four of them, his eyes finally landing on McGee's body. He quirked an eyebrow up. "Huh. What a shame. Looks like he wasn't strong enough." Dean felt a sinking in the pit of his stomach. Orochi was inside of Gibbs, there was absolutely no doubt.

"This is bad," Dean said. Next to him, Tony and Ziva both looked horrified.

"No," Tony burst out, stumbling to his feet. "No, I killed you. I just killed you!"

"Correction," Orochi replied. "You killed McGee. I'm not your average demon, kid. That knife's a neat trick, sure, but it's not enough to get rid of me. All I have to do is smoke out and I'm right as rain." He took a few steps forward. "However, you did slow down my plans, and for that, I'm going to have to make you pay."

The demon raised his hand, but before he could blast the four of them back with a wall of kinetic energy, there was the sound of rustling feathers and Cas appeared behind Orochi. Before he even had a chance to turn, Cas had a burlap sack inscribed with a devil's trap cinched around his neck. In a flash, Orochi was on the ground with Castiel's knee in his back. Cas was fitting handcuffs around his wrists, but they weren't normal handcuffs. They were thick. Iron, with demon trapping sigils engraved on them. Dean had never seen anything like them before.

"Cas?" Sam exclaimed.

"Where have you been? We sure as hell could've used you back there when we were fighting for our lives!" Dean said, his tone angry and accusatory. Orochi struggled underneath Castiel, but was unsuccessful, even though it appeared that the angel was having one hell of a time holding him down.

"I apologize. I have been beset by demons since the moment I left NCIS headquarters yesterday and have been occupied trying to fend them off. Not to mention that this building was covered in Enochian sigils. I was only able to get in because the witch made a minor error that I was able to exploit in order to bypass them," Cas explained. He grabbed the bag that surrounded Orochi's head and used it to bang his skull against the floor about a dozen times. He grew still, and Castiel sighed, rising to his feet.

"Are you alright?" Dean asked, brow furrowed in concern. Dean walked towards Cas, halting a short distance away from him.

"I am unharmed," Cas replied.

He glanced back at Tony and Ziva, who were taciturn and silent now that the danger had passed. Tony was staring down at his hands, which were covered in McGee's blood. He looked like he was going to be sick. He and Sam exchanged a look, and his little brother nodded.

"Can we take this outside?" he asked. Cas nodded, gripping Dean's arm and transporting the two of them. In a blink, they were in front of the Impala. "Cas... we don't have a clue how to get rid of this thing. We're in dire straits. If we don't figure out how to exorcise this son of a bitch from Gibbs, I don't know what we're going to do. Obviously killing the host doesn't get rid of the damn thing," he shared his worries. He really didn't want to see the old man's body and soul get turned into mince meat by that black-eyed bastard.

"That much, I have discovered. I have a place that we can take him. Unfortunately, I am too weak to transport all of us there, so you will have to drive. I can, however, escort Orochi there. It's an abandoned Catholic church about fifteen miles north of the city of Norfolk. I can give you further directions if you need them. I will explain more once you arrive there."

Finally, something good. But he wasn't liking how vague Cas was being about this. "Are we talking a ritual, some special kind of exorcism? A weapon? What?"

"A mixture of the three," Castiel replied cryptically. "As I said, once you arrive, I will explain further. Now, I need to retrieve Orochi and go. I will meet you there." Before Cas could disappear, Dean launched out a hand and grabbed the sleeve of his trench coat.

"Wait," he said. "What about McGee?"

Castiel shook his head solemnly. "I can't bring him back, Dean. I am not strong enough. You know that being cut off from Heaven has weakened my Grace, and even if I was at my strongest, I cannot just indiscriminately reanimate the dead. You were a special case."

"I know man, I know," Dean responded, frowning. "But DiNozzo, he looks like he's going to break. I don't know how tight they were, but if his reaction's any indication, I'd say they were like... like brothers." Honestly, Tony and McGee kind of reminded him of himself and Sam. He imagined himself in Tony's place, being faced with the choice that Tony had been faced with, and he was positive that he would never have been able to do that to Sam.

"I'm sorry, Dean. There's nothing I can do. If it makes any difference, his soul is in Heaven now. He was a good man," Cas informed him. That didn't surprise him. McGee had seemed like a good guy. A little nerdy, but good nonetheless.

"There's nothing we can do for them?" Dean asked. "Nothing?"

"The best we can do for them now is attempt to save Gibbs from the same fate," Cas said. Dean released his arm and nodded dimly.

"You're right," he said. "Okay. Go do your thing. I'll see you at the church."

"I will tell the others to come outside," Cas replied.

"Hey... one last thing," Dean said. Something had been bothering him since Cas had appeared down in autopsy to tell them about Orochi.

"Yes? What is it?" Cas asked, tilting his head in that bird-like way of his.

"Back at NCIS... you said that this was 'fate' ordained by 'Your Father'," he said. "Cas, is the Big Man Upstairs talking to you again?" God had been entirely silent since He had teleported them to the plane after Sam had unintentionally raised Lucifer, and Dean was beginning to wonder if He even cared if the apocalypse happened or not.

Castiel looked at Dean for a moment before his lips slowly lifted into a soft smile. He was surprised - Cas was a pretty stoic guy. He'd only seen him smile once, maybe twice before now. Dean blinked, and Cas was gone.

"Guess that's my answer," Dean sighed, sagging against the hood of the Impala, exhaustion washing over him. His entire body felt like one big bruise. The fight with Orochi and Irena had been difficult, but the NCIS agents had put up a valiant fight. He blearily thought in the back of his mind that they wouldn't be bad hunters.

He waited there for a few minutes in the early afternoon sunlight for the others to come out. The front door of the shelter opened, revealing Sam, Ziva, and Tony. Sam was supporting Tony, who was looking like absolute hell. He had deep bruises already forming on his jaw, and he remembered hearing a resounding crack when McGee had kicked him. It was probably fractured. There was also heavy bruising on his right cheek. His left eye was blackened, and on top of all of that, his nose was definitely broken and streaming blood.

Thank God they had a field surgeon kit in the back of the Impala. They'd have to work on the two of them when they arrived at the church Cas had mentioned. "You alright, DiNozzo?" Dean asked as they reached the car. Tony just looked blankly at Dean, seeming to barely register his presence.

"No. No, he is not," Ziva said, speaking for him.

"Cas told us what's going on," Sam said. His eyes wandered to Tony for a moment. "He took McGee's body and brought him to autopsy. Tony... he didn't want to leave him there."

Tony remained silent. Sam helped him into the back seat of the Impala. They were just going to have to leave the MCRT van here, for now. They would come back and retrieve it if they all managed to live through the next couple of days. Ziva stepped around the car and seated herself next to Tony. Ziva needed medical attention as well. She was cradling one of her hands, and he was horrified to see that she was missing two fingernails, not to mention the claw marks on her hip and face from Orochi.

He wasn't feeling too hot himself, but he was pretty sure he wasn't bleeding from anywhere, and that in and of itself was a miracle. He opened the driver's door and seated himself, with Sam sliding into the passenger's seat. "Where to?" his brother asked in a low voice.

"A church on the Virginia coast, fifteen miles north of Norfolk," Dean told him, starting the engine. "He tell you anything?"

"Sort of. He pretty much just grabbed McGee and Gibbs, told the three of us to meet you here, and then disappeared. You know. Typical Cas. Do you have any idea what he's planning for us to do?"

"No clue," he said. "I'll guess we just have to trust him." If it had been anyone else, he wouldn't have liked the idea, but Cas had dragged him out of Hell, had rebelled against the other angels and Heaven for him. If he could trust anyone outside of Sam and Bobby, it was Castiel.

"Castiel is an angel," Ziva said quietly from the back seat. He looked at her in the rearview mirror. Her eyes were glazed with tears that she wouldn't let fall. She had her hand overtop of Tony's. The agent in question was staring down at his lap, his chin touching his chest. "Can he bring back the dead?"

Dean looked sideways at Sam, and he could see the compassion in his brother's eyes. This stuff always hit Sammy hard. Not that it didn't hit Dean hard, but he was better at covering it than his younger sibling.

"No," Dean said firmly, but not without sympathy in his voice. "No, he can't."

After that, Ziva fell silent. Dean jumped slightly when he heard the Magnum PI theme blasting in the back seat, and he saw Tony remove his phone from his pocket and stare down at it uncomprehendingly. He must've left it there the day before, otherwise Orochi's presence would've fried it. He showed the screen to Ziva, and she promptly took the phone from him.

"Ducky?"

Ducky plucked the last remains of Lance Corporal Belisarius's salvageable liver, dropping it onto a nearby tray. "My dear fellow, I do apologize. This is a death that I wouldn't wish upon my worst enemy. Trust me when I say, however, that Gibbs's team and the Winchesters will do everything in their power to dispose of Orochi and avenge your untimely demise."

"Doctor," he heard a gravelly voice from behind him. He quickly identified it as the angel from earlier, Castiel. He turned to face him, and was shocked by what he saw. Castiel was standing there, stiff as a board, with McGee's limp body in his arms. The agent's pallor and stillness told him a story that he didn't want to believe.

Dear God. Not again.

"Timothy..." he said, stepping forward to examine the agent. There was a blossom of blood on the front of his shirt, right where his heart was. "My God, who did this to him?" Ducky asked, looking up at Castiel.

"Agent DiNozzo," Castiel responded in a monotone. Ducky reeled backwards in shock.

"You're telling me that Anthony did this to him?"

"Orochi possessed Timmy. Agent DiNozzo stabbed him with a demon-killing knife, because he was under the impression that killing him would also kill the Orochi. Unfortunately, he was mistaken." He proffered McGee's body to Ducky. "I thought this would be the proper place to take him. I am sorry for your loss."

Ducky shook his head. "This can't be."

Castiel's blue eyes stared at him intensely, and he thought he detected a modicum of sympathy. "Should I set him on the vacant table?"

Ducky nodded dimly. "Yes... yes. Please." He stripped off his latex gloves he had used during the Lance Corporal's autopsy and replaced them with a new pair. He had hoped beyond hope that he wouldn't have to do this again. He had already had to autopsy Kate and Jenny, why did he once again find himself doing his work on a friend?

Castiel carefully laid McGee's body down on the steel table. It never ceased to amaze him how the dead could look so peaceful. Even now, the young man looked like he was just sleeping. Ducky laid a hand on his shoulder, and he could feel the coolness of him through his jacket. No, he was not sleeping.

Timothy McGee was dead.

"Thank you for bringing him here, Castiel," Ducky said softly, looking back at the angel. "But I must ask - is there not something you can do for him? You are an angel, surely..."

Castiel frowned deeply. "I am currently... cut off from Heaven. As a result, my Grace has been weakened. I cannot raise the dead."

Ducky nodded solemnly. "I understand. What of the others? Are they-" before he could finish, he heard the flutter of wings, and he turned and saw that Castiel was nowhere in sight.

He sighed heavily. He didn't like not knowing whether Jethro, Anthony and Ziva were alright. Before starting McGee's autopsy, he needed to know whether to expect another body to be delivered. He dialed Jethro's number. No answer. Not a good sign. He then tried Anthony's instead. After it rang three times, the phone was picked up, but it was not Anthony on the other end.

"Ducky?" It was Ziva.

"I want you to explain to me what happened to him."

And so she did. She gave him an account of all that had happened since they had left NCIS the day before, including McGee's possession, subsequent death, and then Jethro's possession by the Orochi. She explained that Castiel may have a way to save him yet, and that was really the only solace he could take from the phone call.

"Ducky, we are about to head out of service range. I am going to have to let you go."

"Before you go..." He ran a hand through his thinning hair. "What am I to tell Abigail?"

"Tell her nothing," Ziva said sharply. "I do not want Abby to know what has happened until we are sure of whether or not Gibbs will..." she let out a shaky breath. "We will inform her of all that's happened once we are more certain of Gibbs's condition. Please do not let her in autopsy, Ducky. She does not need to see McGee like this."

"I understand. Ziva, please, be care-" The phone began to crackle loudly on the other end. "Be careful!" he said loudly, hoping that she could still hear him.

The other end of the line went dead. Ducky set his phone down on his desk before looking back at the dead agent on his table.

"I am so sorry, Timothy..."

Four and a half hours later, just as the sun was beginning to inch its way towards the horizon, they pulled off into the patch of dirt that Tony supposed was the parking lot of the abandoned and dilapidated chapel. The ride up the Virginia coast had been the longest of his entire life, the minutes dragging by like years. All he could see were McGee's eyes as he'd killed him. All he could feel was the blood on his hands. All he could hear were McGee's screams. God, what had he done? It still hadn't sunk in. He wasn't sure if it ever would.

Dean shut off the Impala, looking back at him with a surprising amount of concern for someone who had only known him for a little over twenty-four hours. The four of them exited the car. Dean glanced around, eyes grazing over the exterior of the chapel. It was entitled the First Catholic Church of Callensie, a town that he could only assume no longer existed.

"Cas?" Dean called. A second later, the angel appeared in front of him, trench coat billowing in the breeze rolling in from the shore. "Where's Orochi?"

"Inside the sanctuary," Castiel said. "I have him bound inside of a devil's trap."

"What's the next step, then?" Sam inquired.

Castiel's piercing blue eyes turned to Tony. "It depends on how far he is willing to go to save him."