Okay, seriously. The whole "kidnap Sam" routine was getting old.
Sam was more annoyed than concerned to find himself tied to a chair (again) in a long-abandoned living room. He was pretty sure his angel captors weren't going to kill him because they'd had plenty of opportunity up to this point and he was still alive. He tested the rope around his wrists and grimaced. How many times had he been tied up just in the past year? More times than he cared to remember.
The angels apparently knew their knots. The rope wasn't budging. Haamiah had discovered the knives hidden in his sleeve and boot. She'd taken a disturbing amount of pleasure in checking him for weapons. Sam shuddered at the memory. The two had thankfully vanished off someplace, leaving him alone but probably not unwatched.
Sam looked around the room intently, searching for anything he might be able to use to escape. He had absolutely no doubt that Dean and his own angels were coming for him, but it'd be nice to get a head start. The room was empty save for the chair he was sitting in and a stack of dusty couch cushions in the corner. If the tiny scurrying sounds were any indication, they were serving as a home for a family of mice. The room itself was dingy and smelled of mold and damp. The windows were boarded up and the only light came from the bare bulb overhead. There was an inch of dust on the ground, disturbed by several sets of footprints.
He wrinkled his nose in frustration and sighed between his teeth. This was going to be a tricky one. Sam stiffened when he heard footsteps in the hallway beyond the room, useless adrenaline spiking through his body in anticipation of the creeper angels' reappearance.
Sam was ridiculously relieved when it turned out to be someone else entirely. The woman was visually stunning and moved with fluid grace. Her clothing was expensive and tailored, her curly hair professionally styled. She entered the room without speaking a word, her brown eyes immediately fixed on Sam. She circled him once before coming to stand in front of him.
"I have been curious to meet you for a long time, Sam Winchester," she said. Even her voice was attractive, pleasing in timbre and cadence. Sam cocked an eyebrow.
"Wow. I'm famous. Yay me," he deadpanned. To his surprise, the woman's lips quirked upwards.
"It appears you do have some of the famous Winchester attitude. My name is Kadmiel, Sam. I wish to reassure you that we have no intention of harming you."
"Yeah, because tying me to a chair is a really good indicator of good intentions," Sam said. He knew it was probably a bad idea to mouth off to angels, but he couldn't seem to help himself.
"It was for your own protection," Kadmiel replied, unperturbed by his sarcasm. "We do not want you to be harmed attempting to escape."
"Right," Sam said slowly, nodding. "So...we might as well get this over with. What do you want?"
To his surprise, Kadmiel tightened her mouth in distaste. "Bait," she said, as if the word tasted sour in her mouth. "It is practically guaranteed that your brother and his associates will attempt to rescue you. We need to draw them out from safety and force them into a vulnerable position."
Sam's stomach turned inside out. "It's a trap," he murmured. "A trap for Ami and Cas. You're gonna kill them."
The angel bobbed her head, her expression abruptly sad. "It is necessary," she said with a sigh. "Heaven has ordered it."
"I'm getting really sick of hearing that," Sam spat. "Heaven's done nothing but screw the whole human race over."
For the first time, anger flashed in Kadmiel's eyes. Sam braced himself for her response but she merely took a slow, deep breath and her expression calmed. "I would not expect you to understand the ways of heaven," she said. "You are, after all, only a human. Your mind is finite, limited."
"Oh, I understand, all right," Sam snapped. "I understand that you're willing to kill your own brother and sister simply because they did what they thought was right."
Sam didn't have time to prepare. Her face twisted in a sudden snarl, Kadmiel flung her hand out towards him. The chair slid backwards to slam against the wall, driving the breath out of Sam's lungs and smacking his head painfully. He tried to blink the stars out of his vision as Kadmiel stalked toward him.
"Do you think I want to kill Castiel and Amitiel?" she demanded, her voice harsh. "Do you think I enjoy this task? They are my siblings, Sam Winchester, and I love them. There was a time that I would have died for them. But they disobeyed. They turned their backs on us and rebelled. And for that the punishment is death. There is no other choice. Castiel and Amitiel must die."
Reaching Sam, she grabbed his chin and forced his head up to meet her gaze. "If your brother had betrayed you, rebelled against your father, if he had broken every law you had ever held dear, and if he was a danger to you and your family, wouldn't you stop him?"
"No," Sam replied without hesitating. "I'd find a way to save him."
Kadmiel released Sam and stepped back. "I am saving them," she said flatly. "I am saving them from themselves." With another gesture, she returned the chair to the center of the room and stalked out, leaving Sam with a growing headache and a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.
XxxXxxX
Dean was furious. Because, seriously, how many times did he have to put up with Sam getting captured? It was like the kid had a neon sign blinking above his head that said "Kidnap me, I'm easy!" He'd lost count of the times he'd had to bail his little brother out just in the last few years since they'd started hunting together again.
"Dammit, Dean," Bobby burst out. "Calm down! If we're going to get Sam back, then you need to keep your head on right."
"My head is perfectly fine where it is," Dean shot back, pacing back and forth across the kitchen. "We don't have time for this crap. We need to go after them!"
"Dean, you're talking about rushing in where angels fear to tread," Bobby replied. He flung a hand out to the siblings leaning against the counter. "Literally."
Dean paused in mid-step to eye the angels up and down. Castiel had a vaguely uncomfortable look on his face, the kind he got whenever he had to tell Dean something he knew Dean didn't want to hear. Amitiel's arms were crossed over her chest, a thunderous scowl shadowing her eyes. There were spots of bright color on each cheek and every line in her body screamed tension.
"It's a trap," she bit out. "We go after Sam, and they kill Castiel and me. We can't fling ourselves blindly into this."
"They won't hurt Sam," Castiel added. "They don't dare. Not now that it's known he's Lucifer's vessel. We have some time."
"How much time?" Dean demanded. "Time enough to figure out where the hell he his and how to get to him?"
"Perhaps," Castiel said, at the same time that Amitiel replied firmly, "Yes."
Dean swung around to stare at Ami, peripherally aware of Cas doing the same thing. The two men blinked at her while she stared back challengingly.
"You know for sure?" Dean asked sharply. She nodded.
"How?" Cas' voice was hard. Amitiel raised her chin defiantly.
"Because I've Marked him," she replied.
Dean blinked again, confused, and looked to Cas for an explanation. The male angel stared at his sister, eyes wide and mouth open. A knot of apprehension tightened in Dean's chest. "What does that mean?" Dean asked uneasily.
Both angels ignored him. Castiel made a partial recovery and spat something in Enochian, Amitiel replying hotly. Castiel's response shocked Dean; he'd never seen Cas this emotional before. Castiel strode right up to Amitiel, towering over the petite angel, and jabbed a finger into her chest, his voice rising angrily. Amitiel slapped his hand away and growled at her brother.
Dean jumped when Bobby slammed a book down against the table. Both angels snapped their mouths shut and turned to stare at the ex-hunter. Bobby glared at all three of them before pointing a finger in Amitiel's direction. "Start explaining," he ordered gruffly.
Cas muttered something inaudible and Amitiel shifted her weight. There was the sound of fluttering feathers and the air stirred faintly. Castiel's head came forward as if something invisible had struck the back of it and he glared at Amitiel, who ignored him.
"An angel Marks a human they wish to protect, claim as their own, and keep other angels from interfering with," she said, her voice clipped. "We take a small part of our Grace and attach it to the human's soul. This way we always know what they are feeling. If they are in danger, or pain."
Dean sputtered. "You gave Sam some of your Grace?" he choked out.
Amitiel faced him expressionlessly. "A miniscule amount. He wouldn't even notice it, and it detracts nothing from my power." At this last statement she slid a sidelong glance at Castiel and Dean realized what they had been arguing about.
"So how is this going to help us right now?" Bobby demanded, yanking them back on track.
"With enough preparation, I should be able to find Sam," Amitiel replied.
Dean rubbed his face. This all just too freaking much. "But Cas did the whole sigil thingy," he reminded her. "Angels can't track us anymore."
"I'm not looking for Sam," Amitiel explained shortly. "I am looking for my Grace, the missing portion."
"All right, what do you need?" Dean asked, shaking his head.
"Time," she replied. "And silence." She turned to leave the kitchen and paused in mid-step, glaring over her shoulder again at Castiel. "And you have no right to criticize me, not after Marking Dean yourself." With that she swept out of the room, leaving Dean staring at Cas, who had suddenly gone sheepish.
The angel looked at Dean, hunched his shoulders slightly, and asked, "What?"
XxxXxxX
Sam wondered if the angels knew he could hear them. They probably did, and didn't care. There were four of them now: Kadmiel, Haamiah, Cephas, and another who Sam hadn't seen yet, only heard his voice.
"That is not our assignment," Kadmiel said, her voice emotionless.
"Not our specific assignment," Cephas rejoined. "But it is consistent with the greater plan. This way we can, as the humans say, kill two birds with one stone."
"Four birds," Haamiah corrected with an eerily child-like giggle.
"Kadmiel is correct," the newcomer said. His voice sounded young, somewhat boyish. "We focus on our task. Once Castiel and Amitiel have been eliminated and their rebellion cauterized, we report back to Zachariah."
"You never let us have any fun, Shoftiel," Haamiah complained, and Sam could hear the pout in her voice.
"Speaking of which," Shoftiel went on, "Castiel and Amitiel's deaths will be as swift and painless as we can manage. They are our siblings and they deserve that respect. Is that understood?" There was a long pause. "I said, is that understood?" he asked again, his voice harder.
"Yes," Cephas said reluctantly, echoed by his sisters.
"Good," Shoftiel said. The flutter of wings from the next room heralded the angels' departures, and Sam resumed his struggles to get free. His wrists were raw and bloody by now, pain stabbing all the way up to his shoulders, but he didn't stop. If he gave up, if he didn't find a way free, his brother and their angels were going to walk into a trap that would mean death.
He jerked when Haamiah prowled into the room, her eyes fixed on Sam. The tip of her tongue moistened her lower lip as she circled him slowly, humming to herself. Sam tried to remain still while his skin tried to peel off his body and crawl in the opposite direction.
"Such a beautiful boy," Haamiah murmured. "Except for, of course, the demon blood. But that just makes you all the more perfect for our dear brother Lucifer, doesn't it?" She came to a stop in front of Sam, looking down at him with an unhealthy light in her eyes. "Can you imagine what it's going to be like, human? When Michael and Lucifer finally meet in battle. All of that violence...mmm..." She moaned in pleasure, running her hands over her hips as she swayed dreamily. "...All of that blood. So...delicious. The earth will shake and the skies bleed... Oh, yes. It's going to be magnificent." She stalked closer to Sam, leaning forward into his personal space despite his efforts to put distance between them.
"You're going to die, you know," she said, her eyes wide. "When Michael kills Lucifer. It will kill you, too. And your precious brother is going to be awake and watching. I wonder if he'll break?"
"Never gonna happen," Sam said, trying to force bravado into his voice to hide how her words had shaken him. "We're never gonna say yes."
"Oh, you will," Haamiah purred. She seated herself on Sam's lap, wriggling to get comfortable as he stiffened, head turned away from her. She laughed breathlessly and ran a finger along his jaw. "All the pretty ways I can make you scream. So you'll want Lucifer to have you, just to make it stop."
Sam's heart pounded, his breath catching in his throat as his mind raced. He swallowed thickly, trying to fight down his rising gorge. "I won't break," he spat at Haamiah. "Never."
Her eyes dilated and her tongue darted across her lips again. "You will," she said again. "...Eventually." She placed her hand on his chest, palm against his sternum and fingers spread under his collar bone. Sam braced himself for the pain that was surely coming, memories of Zachariah in Dad's storage room flooding to his mind.
Instead, Haamiah's eyes widened again, this time in shock, and she shrieked in anger, her true voice cracking the windows. Sam, bearing the full brunt of it, cried out with startled pain, his head snapping back. Trickles of warmth ran down along his jaw from each ear.
Haamiah flung herself backwards off of Sam, landing on her feet in a half crouch by the far wall. She stopped screaming, much to Sam's relief, but the noise had attracted the attention of his other captors. Cephas and Kadmiel appeared in the room, followed shortly by a boy who looked barely out of his teens. Shoftiel, Sam assumed, trying to clear his ringing head.
"What is this?" the boy demanded, glaring at Haamiah. "What have you done?"
"Nothing!" Haamiah spat. "That traitorous bitch! She's Marked Lucifer's chosen!" Before anyone could react, she reached out and clawed her hand in Sam's direction as if grasping hold of something invisible.
It felt as if Sam had swallowed a hundred burning glass knives and now they were all trying to cut themselves out of him. His vision flashed white-hot and a shrill scream echoed in his ears. He only distantly recognized it as his own.
It was over the next second and Sam half-saw Kadmiel slam Haamiah against the wall, one hand around the other angel's throat. He went limp against the bindings, struggling to get his breath back and spitting out the blood that bubbled up his throat. He had a vague impression of the angels arguing around him, but he was more concerned with trying to stay conscious. When his vision finally cleared, Haamiah was pushing Kadmiel away, anger radiating from every line of her.
"She gave Grace to that...that thing," Haamiah hissed. "A human with demon's blood and angel's Grace. Does she have any idea what she's created? And she dared Mark the vessel of another! See how she mocks us, Shoftiel? Does she still deserve respect?"
For a moment the four angels were silent, Cephas shifting subtly towards Haamiah to show his support while Kadmiel took two steps backwards to Shoftiel's side. Sam glanced apprehensively around them. They seem to have forgotten he was there, but he still got the feeling that whatever happened over the next few minutes would decide his immediate future.
Shoftiel finally stirred. "You should not have harmed the Marked of another," he said blandly. "Don't come near Sam Winchester again." With that he turned on his heel and marched out of the room. Kadmiel gave Haamiah a long, challenging glare. Haamiah seethed silently for a moment before simply vanishing. Cephas followed shortly after. Only then did Kadmiel leave.
Sam spat another mouthful of bloody saliva onto the dusty floor. "What the hell is a Marked?" he muttered to the empty room.
