Chapter 21: Blood and Love

When Eli woke up, she was back in Heaven.

She sat up in the bed, momentarily disoriented. "Wow, this house," she murmured, taking in her surroundings, the window that overlooked misty mountains in the distance, the large four poster bed. She trailed her fingers along the sheets. "Never thought I'd see you again."

"I recreated it. From memory."

Eli turned to see Castiel lingering in the doorway. She smiled widely despite her exhaustion. "It's perfect." She patted the bed. "Come here."

He approached slowly, his head bowed. She tugged at his hand until he was sitting next to her. "What?" she asked. "Is it Sam and Dean?"

"They just won't listen," he said listlessly, resting his hand on her blanket-covered knee. "They won't even let me explain."

"Could you even if they let you?" she asked, leaning forward and running her fingers along his stubbled cheek. "You know we can't tell anyone about me."

"I know," he said softly, rubbing her knee. "Crowley has ears everywhere; he cannot find out."

"I don't like it either," she said. "Lying. I tried to get them off your back. I told them I was dying, if you can believe it. I thought that would make them see that you couldn't do this to me, but…"

"They're convinced," he said flatly, his eyebrows drawing in, his eyes heavy-lidded and sad. "They truly think that I am capable of hurting you. It astounds me, how little faith they have."

"Oh, love," she murmured, sitting up and pulling him into a hug. He wrapped his arms around her, pressing his nose to her hair, his shoulders shaking.

"I hate seeing you like this," he said in a muffled voice. She sighed, rubbing his back.

"But I'm fine, Cas, you know that. It's just a necessary pain-in-ass I have to go through. A little weakness, a little exhaustion. I can deal with it. Just be thankful that it's only manifesting physically. I'dve hated to turn out like Sam."

"That's impossible," he said. "You are not missing all of your soul." He paused, surveying her pale face. "But I still think—"

She put her finger on his lips. "We discussed this, Cas. We're in this together. You're not alone. If you have a Purgatory plan, I get to have your back. That's our deal. Okay?"

He nodded. "I know that you are too stubborn to go back now."

She cracked a smile. "Damn straight."

He smiled for a moment, but it faded into a pensive look, like clouds passing over the sun. "I just wish there was some way to make Dean and Sam understand."

"Telling them is as good as telling Crowley," she said. "You know he has them bugged. And it's not like they're the most discreet people."

"They're our friends," he stressed. She leaned into his shoulder. He smelled like summertime.

"They'll still be there when it's all over and we can explain. But Cas, you knew from the beginning they would never agree." She sighed. "They're so arrogant."

"And we aren't?"

"Touché."

"You shouldn't have gone to earth," he said in an admonishing voice.

"I should have left you in holy fire?" she asked, snuggling closer to him. She felt him absently start to stroke her hair, his fingers trailing from her scalp down to her shoulder blades.

"Look what happened. Crowley could have become suspicious."

"Crowley thinks he's the king of the game," she pointed out. "He doesn't dare dream that silly old you could double cross him."

"Silly old me?" he said softly, kissing the top of her head. She gave a little hum of content, letting him hold her for a few minutes.

"So…if you do this," she finally said. "If you succeed and get the souls from Purgatory, you'll be, like, a nuclear reactor." It wasn't a question, just a worried statement.

Castiel rested his cheek on top of her head. "More like… a God, actually."

"Sure you can handle it?" she asked lightly, but it betrayed a deeper emotion. He shifted back and lifted her chin so that she was staring into his eyes.

"I am sure of nothing. But if I fail, if I am caught or deceived or unable to finish the spell, you will be the one who has to worry about the souls."

"I've been Godlike before," she said in that same faux-joking voice. "I can handle it."

"Eli," he said seriously.

"I know, I know, no making light of the big battle," she said, pausing to lean away and cough. Castiel held her steady as she did so, her whole body shaking like a leaf. When she was done she fumbled with the chain under her shirt, pulling it out so that the small gold box was visible, dangling from the end. She let it spin in the air, its Enochian symbols gleaming. "I can't wait to have it back again," she said softly. "It's really terrible, feeling like this. Like a breeze could break me. To feel it wrenched from me, piece by piece, and shoved in a box." She shuddered.

"If I succeed, you'll immediately get it back," he promised, watching the box spin. "And if I lose—"

"I'll come out of my body and use the unrestrained cosmic explosion of my human soul colliding with my angelic grace to tear a hole into Purgatory, I know," Eli murmured. She bit her lip nervously. "I'm still not sure I'm going to be able to find it."

"It's instinctive," Castiel reminded her. "You're a half-human hybrid, not a daughter of Eve but still technically a monster. An aberration: the angel with a soul. That means that if your soul is free from your body—"

"It goes straight to Purgatory and I suck up the souls like a vacuum cleaner, yeah, I've heard the theory. Doesn't mean I completely believe it."

"Is it any odder than an incantation from HP Lovecraft being the answer?" Castiel asked, a bit cynically. "We live in strange times."

"And Crowley truly believes that you're siphoning my soul away to power yourself." She shook her head disbelievingly. "I guess evil can't comprehend anything better than itself."

"It's what he would have done," Castiel agreed. "So it allows him to believe that I'd do it."

She kissed him lightly, then pressed her forehead to his. "Sam and Dean will come around," she said quietly. "They always do."

"Not this time," he said, resting his hands on her shoulders and closing his eyes. "Not unless we win. And even then—"

"They will come around," she promised. "They may be dicks but they're family. Once they see that I'm fine, that the Purgatory plan has worked, that they can live their lives without fear of Heaven's war, they'll…they'll thank you."

"I believe you are too optimistic," he said grimly. "But I hope that you are right."

Eli kissed him, then leaned back so she was lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling. "All right, love, come on. Hit me."

"No," Castiel said sharply. "You've had enough. You're too weak."

"I'm—"

"You are not fine," Castiel contradicted. "You can barely stand."

"Cas, am I going to die by this?" she asked. He didn't answer, merely glared at her. "No, I won't. Will my chances at getting through to Purgatory be greater if more of my soul is out of my body? Yes it will. A soul without a body goes straight to the afterlife; the explosion of it reconnecting with my true form will rip the hole to pass over without dying. Easy. So come on." She wiggled on the bed, her eyes fixed on the ceiling. "I'm ready."

Castiel sighed and leaned over her, his hand reluctantly poised over her stomach. "I do not wish to do this again."

"I still can't believe I'm even letting you have the first go with your Lovecraft plan," she grumbled. "I can't believe I'm not sneaking around and trying to do everything on my own. It's…weird."

He almost smiled. "I believe it's called 'personal growth.'" His face went somber. "Hold very still."

She grinned weakly. "Love you."

"And I you," he said, before his hand flared with light and started to sink into her, reaching for the weakened fragments of her soul. She screamed, her body bucking upward, until he pulled out a small glowing ball and added it to greater piece inside the golden box.

Balthazar was supremely pissed when the Winchesters summoned him yet again.

"I was drinking '75 Dom out of a soprano's navel when you called," he ranted, still clutching his martini glass. "That was important."

"Crowley's alive," Sam said quickly, as if fearful the angel would just fly away. Balthazar rolled his eyes and took a sip of his cocktail.

"Well you've been scooped. Cas already told me."

"Well did Cas tell you that he is Crowley's butt-buddy, you smug little dick?" Dean growled. Balthazar cocked an eyebrow.

"Excuse me?"

"Handshake deal," Sam elaborated. "Go halfsies on all the souls of Purgatory. He fill you in on that?"

Balthazar blinked a few times. Castiel was doing what? "Well, yes, yes. Yes, of course he did. Yes," he stuttered, thinking quickly. He took another gulp of martini. It did rather make sense.

"Oh, yes, of course," Sam drawled sarcastically, and Balthazar realized that he rather preferred the little ape without his soul. "We can read it all over your face."

"Did he also tell you that he's the reason Eli is sick?" Dean asked. Balthazar stared at him with frank confusion.

"Yeah," Sam said, and the angel's attention swung to him. "He's draining her soul. It's killing her."

"Bollocks," Balthazar said harshly, tossing the glass away so that it shattered on the pavement. "Castiel loves the twit. Now you're just pulling accusations out of your ass."

"Ask him," Dean said bluntly. "See if he can lie his way out of it. Point is, we don't know what Cas is capable of anymore. And now he and Crowley took two people who are very important to me."

"And I care about this because?" Balthazar said, trying to sound flippant.

"Because maybe there is a shred of decency underneath this snarky crap," Dean said, a thin veneer of pleading over his anger. It wasn't very convincing. "They're innocent people and I'm asking for your help."

Balthazar suddenly realized what it was that he hated so much about the Winchesters. It was their entitled attitude, like just because Castiel played fetch with them any angel was their bitch. They stopped the apocalypse so they felt entitled to angelic assistance into their silly little lives.

"I see. Fair enough," he said with a shrug, and vanished. He had greater worries than Dean Winchester's girlfriend.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean yelled, kicking the gravel. Invisible, Balthazar smirked, then felt his smile slip away at the deeper implications of what the bastards had said.

It was possible that something was going to have to be done about Castiel. First, however, he needed to find out the truth.

Castiel knew that everything was starting to crumble when Balthazar summoned him.

"Can I ask you a direct question?"

Castiel felt his stomach drop. He stared at the face of his friend, still carefree, but with a slight tightening of the eyes that spoke volumes. "Of course."

Balthazar stuck his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels, a studiedly casual gesture. "Are you in figrante with the King of Hades?"

Castiel's breath hitched. He tried to school his face into something stoic. "Of course not."

Balthazar laughed, but it sounded forced. "Always were such a terrible liar. So it's true. All right then, why?"

Castiel sighed, rolling his shoulders. He looked up at the top of the trees, almost just noticing that they were in a forest, very much like the one he used to meet Uriel in. The ground was thick with pine needles, and every step sent their scent rising up, sharp and heady. The sky was very blue. He was struck again with the fierce necessity of defending this world, so beautiful and delicate and imperfect. "It's a means to an end. Balthazar, you understand that," he said honestly.

"Oh, absolutely," Balthazar said as if they were discussing the weather. "But what's the end here exactly? Raid Purgatory, snatch up all the souls?"

"Win the war," Castiel stated, staring coolly at his friend.

Balthazar was starting to look worried. "And I can only assume that you'd be the vessel, correct? Suck up all those souls into yourself? All that power?"

Castiel nodded. "It's the only way."

"Or too much juice for you, in which case you explode, taking a substantial chunk of the planet along with you," Balthazar pointed out.

"That won't happen," Castiel insisted in a low voice.

"Sure, sure," Balthazar said sarcastically. "Of course. Just tell me that it's entirely risk-free."

Castiel glanced upward again. He could hear a battle, and beyond that, the whisper of Eli's pain. He didn't have time to waste. "I'm sorry that I didn't tell you, but I need to know. Are you with me or not?"

Balthazar pursed his lips, looking upward briefly as well before focusing on Castiel again, his faded blue eyes questioning. "You know I heard all of this from your howler monkeys. It seems your happy family is having some trust issues?" He paused. "They also seem to think that you're the reason your 'Lady' Elijah is, ah…indisposed. Something about you sucking up her soul energy, if you can believe it." He watched Castiel carefully. "I'm not going to lie, old friend, it has me a bit nervous."

Castiel hesitated. He wanted to tell his brother; he wanted another person to understand what he was going through. But he didn't know who to trust anymore, or who was listening, no matter where they were. This deal with Crowley had escalated into a cruel game, and Castiel just couldn't risk anyone finding out about Eli's true purpose. She was the backup, the last chance, if everything else went wrong and the world was about to end, and if Crowley got even a whisper that things were not exactly what they seemed, that Castiel was not actually draining her unique soul-energy for his own ends…that could bring their last chance crumbling around them.

In the end, Castiel just couldn't take that risk.

So he lied.

"How can you ask me that?" he rasped angrily. "I am doing everything in my power to find her a cure."

"So they're wrong?" Balthazar asked, raising an eyebrow.

"They are…misinformed," Castiel said delicately. "They have me pegged as the villain now. They are lashing out at me because they are frightened for their friend."

"So you're completely innocent?"

Castiel met his eyes. "Absolutely."

Balthazar hesitated, surveying Castiel, his face curiously blank. Then he shook himself out of it and smiled again. "Okay, Cas, if you say so, I believe you. You may be certifiable, but fine. In for a penny, in for a pound."

Castiel wished he believed him.

Balthazar appeared in Bobby's house, his air despondent. He looked a little drunk. "I know I'm gonna live to regret this - but I'm officially on your team. You bastards."

"Every attempt at reconciliation has failed."

Eli looked up from her spot at the window but didn't say anything. Castiel approached her, his head bowed.

"I saved Lisa. I violated her and her son's rights and wiped their memories, all to endear myself to Dean, to gain some modicum of trust again. It did nothing. I am out of options."

"You have one left," Eli said, then held open her hand to display the tiny box, glowing a light gold. "It's done. Enough of my soul is out of my body. You better hurry up with your plan, love, or I'm going to go ahead with mine."