Author's Note:
Season 9 is almost here! Based on what we've seen so far, I think it's safe to say that my interpretation of what happened after Sacrifice is way off, but hey, I like it, and I'm going to finish it, gosh darn it. Anyway, even if this doesn't come to a conclusion before October 8th, it will be finished, never fear.
Several elements of the first part of this chapter are for a friend. You know who you are.
Thanks to yuffb, Amnagreile99, FireChildSlytherin5, TheDoctor'sTimeTravellingWife, jojospn, violeterin, Le'letha, keacdragon, LordOfTheSuperwhomerlockians, and Sinthija for their reviews on chapter 20!
Chapter 21 - You Are The Sentinels
"Abaddon," Sam stated darkly, looking at her squarely with as neutral an expression as he could muster, shooting a brief concerned glance at Charlie before returning his gaze to the demon.
The Queen of Hell was wearing a rich green cocktail dress with a plunging neckline, and her black heels had to be close to five inches, making her about as tall as Dean. Her hair was down, but curled into a soft wave, and pinned back away from her face attractively. She looked lovely, with the slight exception of the silver carving knife she was playing with absentmindedly.
Crowley was unconscious, and looked as though someone had put him through a meat grinder then put him back together. His suit was in tatters, blood was everywhere, and he even looked thinner.
"Sam, I have to say, I am a little surprised to see you here," Abaddon informed him conversationally. "Dean and I had come to an understanding that you boys weren't going to be interfering in my business. Sneaking into Hell qualifies, don't you think?"
Sam vaguely remembered Dean explaining the psuedo-deal he and Abaddon had struck when they'd butted heads over the angels, but he himself had been unconscious at the time. "If it helps, I wasn't planning on breaking that deal. I'm here to talk, for starters."
"About what?" Abaddon asked curiously, the knife glinting as she twirled it.
"Crowley," Sam said, as though it should be obvious.
Abaddon rolled her eyes. "What about the former King?" She sniffed. "He's hardly the most interesting thing we could discuss. I mean, half the time he isn't even awake. See?" She poked the mostly-former demon in the arm with her knife, but he didn't even flinch. "Hardly entertaining. You never answered my question; who's this pretty young thing?"
The question was directed at Sam, but Abaddon was looking at Charlie. The hacker turned towards Sam as much as she could from her pinned position and gave him a desperate look, clearly unsure whether or not to answer.
"She's a friend of mine, and she's off limits," Sam said firmly. "This is a negotiation, Abaddon. I want Crowley, but I'm willing to bargain with you for him. I'm not exactly looking to create a war with Hell if we can avoid it."
Abaddon pursed her lips, tapping the slightly bloodied knife against her mouth as she considered that. "I suppose we could attempt a civil exchange," she mused, licking her lips to clear them of the residue the knife had left behind. "What do you have that I want?"
Sam honestly hadn't been expecting to run into Abaddon necessarily, so he was making this up as he went along. As a result, he was devoid of ideas of what he could offer Abaddon. "I'd imagine you'd know better than I would," he said wryly.
"There's only two things I really want at the moment," Abaddon commented. "Well, three," she amended. "I could do with some tea."
Sam had to wonder if there was some unwritten rule of Hell that the ruler had to act like some kind of posh aristocrat. First they'd had the short British megalomaniac, and now they had the elegant vixen pining for tea. "Sorry, I left the portable Starbucks in my other bag," he snarked.
Abaddon rolled her eyes. "As if I'd lower myself by walking into that place," she scorned.
Tempted to point out that as a demon, there wasn't much lower she could go, Sam decided in favor of not getting his face carved off. "Well, I didn't bring any tea with me, regardless. What are the two things you want?"
"To go after the powerless angels and to find Lucifer," Abaddon told him easily, her tone implying that he really ought to have guessed. "I already promised your brother I wouldn't go after the poor little angels, which is admittedly not a great loss, seeing as how they aren't really in a position to do much. Lucifer seems to be in hiding, which isn't surprising, but not something I'd imagine you can help with."
Sam hesitated, drawing her attention.
"Or can you?" She purred, moving forward to the stationary Winchester. She pointed at him casually with the knife and asked, "I wonder..."
"Lucifer doesn't have a reason to come to me," Sam pointed out. "Not anymore, at least."
"Apocalypse or no apocalypse," Abaddon shrugged, "You're still his true vessel. Whether or not you'll let him in isn't important. He'll come to you eventually, I'm sure of it." The fact that Abaddon hadn't actually been present for the apocalypse didn't seem to matter, which suggested she'd already grilled Crowley for everything he knew about the event.
Sam mulled over the idea for a moment. "Supposing there was a way for you to find Lucifer through me, how exactly do you plan to make that work?"
"Well, we're assuming he hasn't got a vessel," Abaddon pointed out. "I think we probably would have seen him by now if he had. That means that he's hiding out, trying not to get involved until he knows more. Knowledge is power, and Lucifer's been out of the loop for quite a while. An angel without a vessel can still dreamwalk though, and I could provide a tunnel into your mind for him. He's not as powerful, so it would help him find you."
"That has bad idea written all over it," Sam griped.
Abaddon shrugged. "I'll admit that I don't necessarily 'need' to keep the previous regime," she cast a disparaging glance at Crowley, "but I don't have any incentive to let you take him unless you can give me something in return. I want Lucifer. Either back in his cage or dead, I don't really care, but I want him off the playing field now. You are, admittedly, most likely my best shot at that."
Sam pursed his lips, considering. Out of the corner of his eyes he could see Charlie's eyes flickering back and forth between them. She was staying quiet, which was smart, but she clearly wanted to say something, if the way she was looking at Sam was any indication. Clearing his throat, he nodded. "Fine. You use me to find the Devil, and we put him back in his box and get this over with."
Abaddon's lips twitched. "Fine. Want a kiss to make it official?"
Sam made a face at her. "I know for a fact that you didn't kiss Dean for either of the arrangements you made with him," he pointed out.
She shrugged and grinned at him. "Can't blame a lady for trying," she said with a wink. "Now, stand still while I fix you up for Lucifer."
Sam flinched as she moved forward and laid a hand on his head, though it didn't actually hurt. He could feel something changing, but couldn't say what it was. Whatever the demon Queen did only took a few seconds, and she moved away and flicked her hand, releasing the chains that held Crowley in place.
"There, take your mutant," she sniffed. "I'm not giving a royal escort out of Hell, so you'd better be able to leave the way you got in. If you can't manage to get past anything between here and there, that's not my fault."
"Thanks for your help," Sam said sarcastically. "Can you let us loose so we can get out of here?"
Abaddon waved her hand again, and Sam immediately moved forward to examine Crowley, giving her a furious look when he saw exactly how badly the mostly-human demon was fairing. "What?" She asked in as innocent a tone as she could manage.
"Why didn't you just kill him?" Sam asked, examining the injuries. "He might not even wake up from this."
"That's hardly as entertaining, and the demon that's left in him is sustaining him. He's not exactly healing, but he won't die either. Well, a bullet would probably do the job, but a bit of carving isn't so bad." She examined the knife in her hand as though she'd just realized she was still holding it.
Sam shook his head at her, but lifted Crowley up, moving one of the former King's arms around his neck, and shifting his own grip to under Crowley's other shoulder. "Such a short man should not be this heavy," he grumbled.
"He's stocky," Abaddon pointed out.
Charlie was watching the whole scene play out with a look of incredulity on her face. Despite the fact that she was no longer held in place, she still hadn't moved, instead watching Sam gingerly pick up the man he'd come to rescue, and warily watching the demon Queen who had seemed disturbingly interested in her.
"Charlie, get the door. We're leaving," Sam instructed quickly, managing to find a grip on Crowley that let him mostly carry the man without slowly him down too much.
Turning quickly, Charlie tugged the heavy old door open and ducked out into the hallway, holding it open for Sam and Crowley to come through, the latter still unconscious.
Abaddon followed them to the door and waved, a sweet smile on her face. "Thank you so much for visiting, Sam. I look forward to hearing from you!"
Sam shot her a look and nodded once, waiting for the door to shut before turning back to Charlie. "Let's get the hell out of here," he muttered.
"Seconded," Charlie agreed quickly. "Do you need help carrying him?"
"I'm good. Just take the lead and warn me if you see anybody coming. I wouldn't put it past Abaddon to set up a few ambushes." Sam adjusted his grip on Crowley and started moving, following Charlie down the hall. "Let's try to make it out of here in one piece."
"Hey, Sam?" Charlie asked, moving quickly and glancing around as though demons were going to materialize out of the walls.
"Yeah?"
"Next time I beg to tag along on a trip to the pit of darkness, remind me how much fun this was, okay?" Her tone was full of humor, but she glanced back at Sam, revealing the barely concealed fear in her eyes.
Sam nodded once. "Deal. Thanks for being my backup though." He shot her a reassuring smile.
Taking a deep breath, Charlie nodded once and smiled back. "Yeah, no problem. Let's get out of here now."
"I like that plan," Sam agreed. Now that he had what he'd come for, albeit unconscious, he could worry about other issues. Like how long they'd been gone. Based on what Sam knew from his own time in Hell, it could be anywhere from a few hours to a few days. It felt like they'd been down in Hell for a long time, but time displacement was one of the mind tricks that caused captives to go insane. Sam had alternatively felt like he'd been gone days and years since they'd entered Hell, and he was really hoping that when they emerged topside, it wouldn't have been long enough for anyone to be worried about him.
The rest of the day Dean had spent teaching Castiel to drive had gone by without incident, and the former angel had actually become rather good at driving. He wasn't necessarily ready to take the wheel for hours on end driving across the country, but he could make it from the motel to the Wal-Mart without doing any damage, so that was progress.
That night, Dean had taken advantage of the ancient XBox system available to rent from the motel office to teach Castiel some new aspects of humanity. Namely, video games. There were only two titles available, but Dean only had to pay $10 to get the system in the first place, so he wasn't going to complain.
When he handed Castiel a controller, the former angel looked up at him with complete confusion. "What does this do?"
"It's a controller, Cas. Here, I'll show you what to do." Dean set the game up and moved back to the couch, quickly instructing Castiel on what each button did, and how to use them.
"So this is a game?" Castiel inquired, squinting at the screen. "What is the objective?"
"To win," Dean said with a shrug. "It's not hard."
"Will this be like real driving?" Castiel asked curiously, watching the animated wheeled vehicles move around on screen.
Dean grinned. "Mario Kart? Dude, not even close. It's fun though. Sam and I used to play this when we were kids sometimes. Well, he was a kid. I was in my teens by the time Mario Kart came around, but if we were somewhere with a decent arcade that had a system, I'd play with him. It's better two play two-player than solo."
"Why does that driver resemble a monkey?" Castiel asked, still puzzled.
"That's Donkey Kong. Don't worry about it. Here, pick a character, then a car. See? Like this. I'm always Yoshi." Dean selected the character, then leaned over to make sure Castiel knew what he was doing.
"Why a turtle? Is one driver better than another?" Castiel rotated through the characters, looking as serious about the decision as if he was being asked to approve nuclear action.
"Eh, depends on the version. Technically yes, but it's not that big of a deal. It's more of a skill and luck kind of thing. We'll get to the prize boxes in a minute. Just pick someone." Dean gestured towards the screen as he spoke.
Castiel considered the characters for a moment before choosing. "I will be Mario," he decided.
"Any particular reason?" Dean asked curiously.
Castiel shrugged. "The game is named after him, is it not? He is clearly important."
Dean had to grin at that. "I guess he is. All right, now we pick cars." The two spent a good fifteen minutes selecting their cars, mainly because Castiel took the decision just as seriously as he had the previous one, and Dean had to explain what all the statistics meant. Finally, they were ready to play.
"Does the choice of track make a difference?" Castiel inquired.
"Yeah, some are a lot harder. We're starting with Peach Circuit, because I want to show you how to play before we do anything else." Dean selected the track and spent another ten minutes demonstrating the controls again, before starting the race.
The cars took off, and Dean was pleased to see that Castiel could at least make his car go, if not particularly masterfully. He was confused by the prize boxes, but once Dean had explained how to use them, he became abnormally skilled at it. Dean found himself on the receiving end of three red shells and two lightning strikes before the race was over. He beat Castiel, but only barely, and neither of them were in the top three.
"I believe I understand how this works," Castiel announced, looking pleased with himself. "Another track?"
Lips twitching with amusement, Dean began to cycle through the options.
"That one looks particularly colorful," Castiel said eagerly. "Can we race on the rainbow?"
Grinning broadly, Dean selected the track. "Rainbow Road, coming right up." He'd always been pretty good at Rainbow Road, which was the source of constant frustration for Sam when they were kids. Sam couldn't make it through a single lap without falling off the track, and he'd been sore about it for years.
The race began, and Castiel started a constant commentary on the pleasing atmosphere of these particular track, and how much he liked the colors. It wasn't distracting exactly, but what was distracting to Dean was how good Castiel had gotten at the game. Just as Dean managed to get into first place, a blue shell hit him and Castiel zoomed past, depositing a banana directly in front of Dean.
Every lap was like that, with Castiel managing to target Dean whenever he was catching up, and the former angel managed to stay in the lead the whole time. When the race ended, with Castiel in first and Dean in second, Dean tossed down his controller and threw up his hands.
"How the hell are you so good at this?" He complained.
Castiel looked surprised. "I had a good teacher," He said simply.
Dean's demeanor changed almost immediately, going from amused and irritated to pleased. "Yeah, all right," he agreed.
Castiel smiled at him softly. "You should do this more often."
"What, teach?" Dean asked.
"No, play games. Do things you find fun. You don't smile enough." Castiel was looking at Dean introspectively, as though the secrets of the universe had hidden themselves away in Dean's eyes.
Self-conscious, Dean looked away, the information Kevin had given him that morning still fresh in his mind. "Well, same goes for you," he muttered, embarrassed. "I like seeing you smile."
The statement itself brought a smile to Castiel's face, and his reached out to tip Dean's head up so they were face to face again. "I suppose that can be something we help each other do," he pointed out.
"Yeah," Dean agreed, this time unable to look away.
They sat there, Castiel with his hand lightly grasping Dean's jaw, and Dean smiling slightly, for a good minute. It was, of course, Dean who seemed to pull away first, ducking his head again and clearing his throat. Castiel's eyes flashed with something unidentifiable for a moment before he adjusted his position, tucking his hands in his lap and sighing softly.
"You want to watch a movie?" Dean asked.
"That would be fine," Castiel agreed. "I am rather tired though."
Dean adjusted his position on the couch and moved a pillow so that it leaned up against his leg. "You can lay down, and if you fall asleep at least you'll be comfortable."
Castiel smiled serenly at the suggestion and nodded, pleased. "That is a good idea," He agreed, shifting down and tucking his legs into the couch, leaning his head on the pillow, practically in Dean's lap. "This is comfortable," he concluded, adjusting his position slightly, still smiling.
Dean smiled too, and reached down to run his fingers through Castiel's hair almost absentmindedly. "Good, I'm glad." He switched the television into the mode for cable, turning the volume down in case Castiel did fall asleep. He flicked through the channels until he found one that was playing Indiana Jones, and settled on that. "This is a good one," he commented.
"Is that not the same man from Star Wars?" Castiel asked softly, sounding sleepy already. Dean had managed to show him about a third of A New Hope at one of their other motel stops, but he had yet to get Castiel to sit through the entire trilogy.
"Yep, same guy." Dean confirmed. It amused him that Castiel had an eye for that. It wasn't the first time he'd identified the same actor in different things, and it was something that reminded Dean of Sam. His brother had always had a brain for that stuff.
"Are any of the others in this film?" Castiel asked curiously.
"Not that I know of," Dean said with a shrug. "I could be wrong though. Ssh, just watch. Or fall asleep, whichever."
Castiel chuckled lightly and snuggled minutely closer to Dean, sighing softly. "In case I do fall asleep, good night, Dean."
"Night, Cas." Dean continued to run his fingers through the former angel's hair, relishing the way Castiel inclined towards his touch without even realizing it. "Sleep well."