Author's Note:
You guys have been incredibly encouraging, and I'm loving the reactions! Given that this is my first fic that I'm dedicating 90% of my attention to plot over shipping, I'm eternally grateful to the sheer number of you that keep saying that this sounds like it could be canon, even if, as several of you have stated, you unfortunately doubt it will be. It means a lot!
Thanks to jojospn, bespectacledfanwarrior, anna3311234, keacdragon, FireChildSlytherin5, FallenAngel2487, shadowdancer33996, JessMust7, and Riceball-1989 for their reviews on chapter 10!
Chapter 11 - Shall Have Their Reward
It was blatantly obvious where the grace had landed when Sam and Gabriel pulled into the field. Even if there hadn't been a small crater, the flourishing and flowering shrubbery that had sprouted in the middle of what was otherwise farmland was clearly out of place.
Gabriel was out of the car almost before the engine was off, bolting towards the bush and kneeling down beside it, holding his hands up and closing his eyes, but not actually touching the plant.
Unwilling to disturb him, Sam took a vial from the back of the car and walked up behind the archangel, keeping quiet. Mesmerized, he watched as a practically milky blue substance seemed to be edging slowly from the shrub and into Gabriel's waiting hands. Almost on instinct, Sam handed Gabriel the vial and watched as the archangel easily guided the grace into the vial, screwing the lid shut and pocketing it. He stood almost immediately and nodded his head, as though agreeing with something, before turning to Sam.
"Why didn't it burn out my eyes or something?" Sam asked, the fact that he'd just witnessed pure grace starting to occur to him.
"Because it's kind of in stasis," Gabriel replied. "If the angel it belongs to, in this case, Hester, were to activate it, then you'd want to shut your eyes."
"Hester," Sam mused, his expression distant. "I feel like we met her at some point."
"I saw her in more recent memories Cas had, but I'm not sure what she was doing. I think she was killed by a demon?" Gabriel left the last part as a question. The particular memory hadn't been supremely important in light of some of the other news Castiel had given him.
Sam's expression cleared up immediately. "That was Hester," he said, his tone understanding. "She was part of Castiel's old garrison, right?"
"Yeah, but she was kind of cold," Gabriel replied with a shrug. "She was young when I left Heaven, but I never really saw a point in getting to know her. How did you guys meet her?"
"She and another angel - I don't remember his name - tried to take Kevin from us right after we found him. Cas tried to stop them, and Hester tried to kill him for intervening. Meg is the demon that stabbed her." Sam made a face when he mentioned the demon. "She was trying to save Cas."
"Why?" Gabriel asked, puzzled. "What possible interest could a demon have in an angel?"
"Honestly?" Sam shrugged. "I kind of always thought she had a soft spot for him. She basically took care of him when he went insane, and she's dead now because she was protecting the three of us. Of course, only a few years ago she was siding with Lucifer, and before that she possessed me, and before that she tried to murder Dean and I and our dad, so we had kind of a rocky relationship."
Gabriel gaped at him. "Story time with you is the weirdest thing," he muttered after a minute. "I thought my life was interesting. Geez, Sammy. Take a breather and make some nice human friends, huh?"
Sam made a face at him. "We have human friends!" He protested. "There's Kevin for starters," he pointed out.
"I get the distinct impression that Kevin would be out of your lives in a heartbeat if he had a choice," Gabriel informed him. "I like him, but he does not like this life."
Sam's expression looked weary for a moment. "Yeah, I know. I feel for him, I really do, but he's too important to just go live a life, you know? He knows that, and he's willing to help a lot more now than he used to be. I don't think he can ever go home again, which really sucks."
Not pleased with the sudden drop in mood, Gabriel nudged Sam. "Alright, what about other human friends that aren't forced to be in your company by threat of certain death?"
Sam made a face at him, but smiled slightly as well. "I'd call Garth a friend," Sam commented. "We've also got Sheriff Mills and Charlie." His eyes suddenly lit up, and he grinned at Gabriel. "Oh man, she would get a kick out of you."
"Oh?" Gabriel raised an eyebrow. "How so?"
Amused now, Sam just winked at him and dug out his cell phone. "You guys will get along, trust me."
Sam Winchester: Hey, where are you?
He sent the text to Charlie and turned his phone screen off, turning back to Gabriel. "So, that was the only spot in Kansas, right?"
Gabriel nodded. "Yep," he answered, popping his lips on the 'p'. "And all we've got to show for it is a seraph that's already tried to kill Cas. Super."
"Hey, the situation is different now," Sam pointed out. "For one, all the angels should be on the same side now."
"Still." Gabriel did not look pleased. "I'm hoping we find more friendlies than we do potential enemies."
"You and me both," Sam muttered. His phone chirped at him, and he looked down to read the incoming text.
Charlie Bradbury: Partying in Vegas for the weekend. What's up?
Sam grinned and waved his phone at Gabriel. "Anything on that list in Nevada?"
Gabriel rolled his eyes upward as he thought. "Yeah, I think there's a couple of spots. Several in Colorado too, which is between here and there. Why?"
"You know what they say, all work no play and all that," Sam told him, shooting Charlie a quick text.
Sam Winchester: I'm headed that direction with an old friend in the next day or two. Want to meet up?
"I can get behind that philosophy," Gabriel said with a grin.
There was another chirp of Sam's phone as he commented, "I thought that might jive with you."
Charlie Bradbury: As long as I'm not about to be eaten by invading aliens, I'm down with that.
Sam Winchester: No worries, just a social call. I swear, no aliens.
"Cas, check my phone. It's probably Sam," Dean instructed, tossing the gadget at his front seat passenger.
Castiel fumbled with the phone for a moment before figuring out how to check the text messages. "Sam is informing you that he and Gabriel have recovered one angel's grace thus far. It belong to...oh." Castiel's face fell, and he looked upset.
"What's wrong?" Dean demanded, looking concerned and half outstretching his hand for the phone.
"They found the grace of Hester, a former member of my garrison," Castiel explained, watching Dean to see if the name would jog any memories.
Dean seemed confused for a moment, before awareness flooded his expression. "Is that the chick that Meg...?" He trailed off, leaving the question open.
"Yes," Castiel confirmed, his tone disheartened. "I had hoped that the first grace recovered would not belong to an angel who wished me dead, although the odds were not in my favor in that regard."
Dean made an irritated noise with his throat. "Cas, just because that's the first grace they found doesn't mean it'll be the first angel they're able to restore. For all you know, they'll get a huge collection of grace and end up finding someone like..." He trailed off, looking puzzled.
"You can't think of any angels that would be friendly, can you?" Castiel accused. "All the names you can think of either belong to angels who wanted me dead or angels I killed." Depression set in on his expression once more.
Dean huffed, hating that Castiel was right. "Well, what about Alfie? What if Sam and Gabriel restore him first?"
Castiel threw him a confused expression. "I do not know who you are referring to," he admitted.
"He had a long ass name," Dean complained. "Samanmanderel or something like that."
Understanding flooded Castiel's expression, followed by a wave of unmeasured sadness. "Samandriel," he whispered. "He was so much younger than I. It should have been my job to protect him."
"Hey!" Dean barked at him, catching Castiel's attention. "That happened under Naomi's orders, right? So you did not kill him, and he'll forgive you. I'm sure of it, he seemed like a nice kid."
In spite of himself, Castiel had to smile. "Dean, Samandriel was far older than you," he pointed out.
"Is it my fault his vessel was a damn teenager?" Dean griped.
Amused, Castiel lapsed into silence, considering Dean's words. Would Samandriel really forgive him? It was true that that particular murder had not truly been Castiel's doing, even though he had been the tool used. He would never have killed his brother like that.
"Now what are you thinking about?" Dean prompted, distracted by the contemplative look on Castiel's face.
"I am trying to decide if you are right to be so optimistic," Castiel explained. "I do not gravitate towards the same hope, it would seem."
"I think believing in what seems unlikely or impossible is kind of a human thing, Cas," Dean offered as an explanation.
Castiel looked hesitant before saying, "I am human, Dean."
Dean made a face at him. "I know that, Cas, but you're also...not. I mean, I get that physically you're human now, like legitimately human, but you're still an angel. That's just a part of you that's never going to fade. To me, you'll always be an angel."
Castiel gazed at him with an unfathomable expression in his eyes. "Truly?" He finally asked.
"What?" Dean shot him a look before returning his eyes to the road.
"Is that how you honestly perceive me, even in this state?" Castiel inquired with more detail.
"Well...yeah," Dean replied, sounding surprised. "You don't turn being an angel on and off, Cas. You may not have your grace, but as far as I'm concerned, you're still as angelic as it gets."
For whatever reason, this particular conversation served to provide more encouragement and hope to Castiel than any other assurances Dean had thus far offered, and the two of them traveled in relative quiet and comfort for the rest of the evening, stopping late at night to get some rest before Dean would drive the rest of the way to Maryland in the morning.
Abaddon turned the dials on the electric device she had Crowley wired up to, enjoying the way the man's body writhed in reaction to what she did. She was reasonably sure he no longer had any information for her, but she was choosing to occupy herself with this entertainment. If she didn't, she'd end up chasing powered down angels again, and there was a deal in place preventing her from doing that. Not that Abaddon was above breaking deals, but she wasn't really in the mood to get into a war with the Winchesters and their pet angel at the moment.
So, with a sufficient level of boredom to handle, Abaddon chose to torture. She could have picked any old soul from Hell, but Crowley was hers. Even better was the fact that he seemed to be under the delicious misconception that Sam Winchester would save him, because Sam was a good person. Abaddon found that hilarious, and relished each day that she got to inform Crowley that he was still her prisoner, and there was no sign of the Winchesters anywhere near Hell.
"Uh, your highness?" A timid voice asked.
"What?" Abaddon replied, clearly bored again already.
"We have a slight...uh, problem?" The voice seemed to grow weaker, if that were possible.
"Define problem," Abaddon instructed. Small problems were easily dealt with. Big problems meant she got to execute underlings, and that always staved off boredom for a few hours.
"Uh...heh." The demon in question popped its head into the room, looking increasingly nervous. "The cage...might be empty?"
Abaddon closed her eyes, allowing rage to fill up her entire form before she turned on the demon. "WHAT?!"
The demon cowered, throwing up hands to shield its body, as if that could stop Abaddon when she wanted to inflict pain.
"Explain!" Abaddon demanded.
"We think whatever caused the angels to fall also tore the archangels from the cage, your highness!" The demon explained quickly. "We didn't notice at first because the cage is sometimes silent for days. It's clear now that there's nothing in it. No trace of any grace or souls."
"Why is the human gone?" Abaddon asked, distracted by that fact. "The curse that affected the angels shouldn't have had any impact on a soul."
"The current theory is that one of the archangels was closely linked to the soul and dragged it with them," the demon offered, still speaking as quickly as possible.
"Probably Michael," Abaddon muttered. "Always one to play the hero, even if he did have a log up his backside. Alright, well that's a new problem to deal with. Apparently I have to find Lucifer now." She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.
"Good luck," Crowley whispered from behind her.
"Oh, talking again, are we?" Abaddon asked conversationally, striding over to her typically silent victim.
"Lucifer despises demons," Crowley informed her, his eyes glinting. "Enjoy your throne while it lasts."
Irritated, Abaddon slapped him, but otherwise left him alone, choosing to stride out of the room instead of staying to torment the mostly human further. Apparently she had an archangel to kill.