Azrael walks into the cemetery allowing the darkness and silence to envelop her. She walks among the ancient graves. She walks in and out of the rows occasionally running her fingers over the stone of an old friend. She stops at her destination.
She runs her fingers over the plaque followed by a gentle knock on the plaster. Azrael mumbles some words in French. She takes a seat against a nearby grave. She pulls out a pipe and begins to pack it with tobacco. As the smell of the pipe smoke fills the air, Azrael is joined by an old friend. Azrael puffs on the pipe for a few moments before placing it into the woman's outstretched hand.
"Azrael, I should have known. You look like hell." Marie Laveau takes a seat next to Azrael. "It is a cold night." Azrael produces a fine bottle of brandy. "That's my girl."
Marie uncorks the brandy and takes a long drag off the bottle. "Ah… now that hits the spot, child." She puts the pipe back into her mouth. "So child, am I to assume from the weeping angel look about you, you have come to call on your wayward brother?"
Azrael takes a long drag off the brandy bottle before she answers. "Shall we?" Marie gives her a wicked little smile. "You were always the fun one, my dear Azrael."
Azrael takes another long drag from the bottle. She corks it and hands it to Marie. "Child, that is the nectar." Marie hands Azrael a key. "Wish there was more of that." Azrael laughs and points. Another bottle has appeared in front of Marie's grave. "It is a fine evening for a good pipe"
"Front pocket." Marie touches her front pocket to find a pouch of fine tobacco and a zippo. Before she walks away, Azrael leans down and draws and "X" with a circle around it. "Until, next time." Azrael smiles and taps her forehead.
"You take care of yourself out among the unbelievers, Azrael." Marie settles into her seat for an enjoyable evening.
Azrael walks to the back of the cemetery using the key to unlock the gate to a crypt. She can feel the presence. "Hello Princess, where is your daddy? Lurking in the shadows?" She can hear the hell hound behind her.
Crowley appears upon the sound of her words. "Thought I might find you here." Crowley moves closer to her reaching to caress the blood trail on Azrael's face.
Azrael turns and leans against the tomb. Crowley loves the intensity in Azrael's eyes. She radiates the power that is now within her. He knows it has begun and nothing from this moment forward will be the same. He places a kiss on her lips. He rests his head upon hers for a brief moment. As he separates from her he taps her on the nose. He crosses the threshold of the tomb into the yard as rays of white light emerge from every opening of the crypt.
Azrael appears in the warehouse as Metatron plunges the angel blade into Dean. Azrael can barely contain her fury at her brother. Azrael rushes to his side as Metatron leaves him to die. "Why could you not listen to me?" She holds Dean in her arms for a moment caressing his face. She can hear Sam approach. She knows she has to leave him. She kisses him on his forehead. She must contend with her brother. She is hoping the kiss is enough to sustain Dean just long enough for her to return him. She is unable to heal him in her current state. The whispers in her head are now a deafening roar. She must leave and she must leave him now. It is time.
As she leaves she can see Sam rush to his brother's side. The pain in Sam's heart at the sight of Dean strikes Azrael like a thunderbolt. She will return to him.
Azrael enters a long hallway. As, she walks down the hall, Azrael is transformed. Her light hair becomes black as pitch… her clothes transform into a flowing black dress. Her blood streaked face becomes masked with a lacelike design surrounding her eyes. Upon her arms are jeweled armaments, at her side is a sword. Her black wings unfurl as she enters what will become her arena. She stands before her brother.
"Full on Hell's Angel… It has been a long time since you pulled out the wings, Azarael." Metatron's tone is mocking as the angels begin to gather around them. Azrael does not speak but remains steadfast.
While Azrael distracts Metatron, Castiel is in Metatron's study searching for the angel tablet. He knows it is here. He knows he must find it and he must find it now.
Metatron circles his silent sister. "You cannot defeat me Azrael. This is a nice show but it is all smoke and mirrors dear sister." Azrael waits for Metatron to come closer. More and more angels gather to watch the siblings. Azrael moves away from Metatron so that the wall is now behind her. The angels must gather in front of her. Metatron moves still closer leaning against the wall. He runs his finger down her sword. "It's a good look for you but you know he is dead already, dear one. Another you were too late to save. I think you just lost your most valuable piece."
Azrael speaks for the first time. "But a winning strategy sometimes necessitates sacrifice."
"Chess… very nice, Azrael. Well check my dear one… check."
Azrael makes a sudden move grabbing Metatron and holding an angel blade to him. "Very dramatic, lest you forget that you cannot kill me. We are two sides of one coin. We could battle to the end of time."
The crowds before the pair part as a second Azrael walks towards the pair. "Bishop to bishop eight, discovered check...and (incidentally) mate, brother. That is how chess is played." The Azrael behind Metatron morphs back to the form of Gabriel. The expression on Metatron's face is of total shock.
"She may not be able to kill you… but I sure as hell can dear brother." Gabriel's voice is menacing as he speaks.
Azrael can feel the angel tablet shatter. Castiel has kept his word. "The two of you cannot undo what I have done." Metatron tosses another threat in their direction.
Azrael paces in front of Metatron. "Perhaps not but…" Azrael is interrupted by the approach of her remaining brothers. "But the four of us can." Metatron is now faced with Raphael, Michael and Lucifer.
The room erupts into white light as both heaven and hell are restored.
Crowley sits at a table in a small pub. He knows it has happened. It is time for him to go.
Sam sits at the table in the bunker with a bottle of whiskey before him trying to numb the loneliness and the pain. He as hoped that this is just a dream… or a nightmare. Dean has been laid out on his bed. Sam begins to contemplate the unthinkable.
Crowley joins Dean at his bedside taking a position in the chair next to the bed. He can feel Sam's desperation and pain as he speaks to Dean.
"Your brother, bless his soul, is summoning me, as I speak. Make a deal. Bring you back. It's exactly what I was talking about, isn't it? It's all become so…expected. You have to believe me. When I suggested you take on the Mark of Cain, I didn't know that this was going to happen. Not really. I mean, I might not have told you the entire truth. But I never lied. I never lied, Dean. That's important. It's fundamental. But…there is one story about Cain that I might have…forgotten to tell you. Apparently, he, too, was willing to accept death rather than become the killer the Mark wanted him to be. So he took his own life with the Blade. He died. Except, as rumor has it, the Mark never quite let go, you can understand why I never spoke of this. Why set hearts aflutter at mere speculation? It wasn't until you summoned me… no it wasn't truly until you left that cheeseburger uneaten, that I began to let myself believe maybe miracles do come true. Listen to me, Dean Winchester. What you're feeling right now — it's not death. It's life — a new kind of life. Open your eyes, Dean. See what I see. Feel what I feel. And let's go take a howl at that moon."
Crowley is lost in the moment with his new protégé. He does not see Azrael in the shadows. Azrael will contend with him but first… she needs to contend with Sam.