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The Supernatural characters belong to Kripke Enterprises and the CW, not me. No money is being made from this story. It is for entertainment only.

Winchesters in Hell

Chapter 37

And Lucifer Takes Hell

From Chapter 36

Rowena eyed the tempter. She had never seen Mt. Fuji or the Grand Canyon from the Canyon floor. There were bits of stray Anasazi magic scattered in the Arizona desert she would love to have. She carefully nibbled on the end of her bright red nail and considered the creature beside her.

"Ok, you two," Dean pushed back his chair and stretched. "Time to move on. We've been here long enough' kust ask Adam. He's about to dose off with his nose in the beer. I personally stopped being amused watching you two flirt and flutter about ten minutes ago.

Rowena, Sam knows you are with me but I don't know what he would think if you ran off with Gabriel here. Sam can be funny about other people using his things. Him being the Boy King and all I tend to be a little careful about pissing him off these days. What do you think? Gabe, do you think you can take Sammy on? Or would you even want to try? Is the witch worth some Sammy whomp? Up to you man. I'm on my way back down stairs."

Chapter 37

In Heaven Lucifer and Samuel, now rejoined, stood with Castiel and watched over the Angel Forum. When Raphael appeared and took the seat in the center of the waters a hushed whisper rustled through the assembled Angels and the inward flow of new arrivals through the arched entrances halted. The soft melodies that had spontaneously begun all stopped and dismay spread like waves on the surface of a lake.

Raphael stood, his image reflected in the shallow waters. "My brothers, do not despair. Yes, I am the form of Raphael the Archangel who has done so much damage to our home but I am now possessed, willingly, by Santanael, one of the Trimūrti who, with Samuel and Lucifer, the Morning Star, have seized control of Heaven, Hell and the Earthly plain. My work is now to repair the damage I have done.

With that Raphael sat back down. He extended his silver tinged wings and allowed the tips to trail just on the surface of the new waters. V-shaped ripples flowed past and within the ripples flashes of bright colored fish appeared. This was the first of the new life introduced to Heaven and the first of Raphael's gifts of healing to appear.

Sam and Castiel paused on the marble parapet to observe this minor miracle of life and Castiel smiled. "Perhaps you are correct, Samuel." the seraph said. "Hope can be re-born in Heaven. Perhaps our brother Raphael, Master of the Air, can be restored to sanctity."

The two Masters of Hell left the Forum and traveled the byways of Heaven back to Joshua's garden. There was a new feeling in the air. The sense of a storm brewing, of conflict to come, was cleared and a sense of peace had been restored.

As they approached the Garden small groups of Angels began to appear. Sometimes a group was only three or four seraphs but occasionally a large number gathered. They were all moving in the same direction, Joshua's garden. During the time of Raphael's rule Joshua had closed the Garden in rebuke. Once more it was open to all who needed it.

When they reached the front gate they found Joshua waiting for them.

God's Gardner smiled as they approached. "Samuel, Lucifer, Castiel," he cried. "I see that someone is missing. So what I hear is true, Santanael is staying in Heaven?" The dark angel leaned on his staff. Here, outside the Gates of the Garden it appeared to be the traditional Shepard's Crook so long described in Christian Children's Bible stories. Samuel returned the smile wondering if this was an effort to perhaps make heaven feel more familiar.

He noticed that Joshua's smile had a touch of the secret about it. Perhaps the elder Angel was only making a joke. Sam Winchester knew that once inside the Garden Joshua's staff could just a readily appear as a shovel or pruning shears. Reality was not something Heaven clung to. The semblance of a thing in heaven was often only a mask; a wavelength of celestial intent, as Castiel had once described his existence.

"Joshua," Castiel asked, "who are all these Angels?" looking around at the group held outside the Gates.

"These are the penitents that will travel with you, Castiel," Joshua waved at the waiting beings. "They cannot in all honest deny their sins and wish to become pure again. If you are restoring Hell as a place of penance they wish to face their fate there and with you.

Castiel passed down the file of Angels. He stopped at the very end. "Even this one?" he asked. "Even the Scribe of God seeks redemption in the pit?" Castiel pulled off a cowl covering Metatron's face.

Metatron grabbed at the cowl and pulled it back over his head. "Careful, Angel," he growled. "Where I go is my own business and I want to leave Heaven."

Joshua laid a hand on Castiel's arm. "Brother, I believe you would be doing Heaven a great favor if you could take Metatron with you. I then fear for Hell but perhaps your people can handle his venom. He corrupted our Raphael almost beyond redemption. We now hope to get our Sweet Archangel back but if would be better and safer if Metatron was gone."

Castiel patted Joshua's hand, noticing that it was an old man's hand, wrinkled and thin. He wondered just how long Joshua had been God's Gardner. Perhaps God and Death were not the only ones who had existed since the beginning of time and before.

The group entered the Garden with Joshua and the Masters of Hell in the lead. The Penitent Angels followed. Samuel had seen to it that Metatron was now in front of the Angels, not hiding in the rear. Lucifer had whispered warnings to Samuel to keep a very close eye on the Scribe.

As they strolled through the peace of the Garden, even the Penitents calmed. This would be the last glimpse of Heaven for a number of them and their futures were not secure. Some would hope to return and others would never feel worthy again. Samuel doubted that the Scribe's pride would ever allow him to surrender. Possibly Hell could gain another permanent resident.

They finally reached the silvered gates that lead to the Axis Mundi. Before Joshua released the locks Samuel spoke to him. "Joshua, I suggest that you get either Belial or Verrine to guard this upper gate. I leave it up to your to choose which partner will get to be stationed here in Heaven. Perhaps they will share. I know that you will have to pick because each will defer to the other. I only suggest a guard be placed at either end of the stairway until all turmoil comes to an end."

Joshua smiled back to Samuel. "Thank you. That is a wise precaution. I'll have my hands full here as it is. There are still more Angels in hiding, more decisions to be made. If I had one of the Fallen stationed here I would be able to easily pass messages to you where you might be. I can certainly let you know when the next group of Penitents is assembled."

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Samuel the vessel and Castiel the Seraph led their group of angels through the gate and started down the Axis Mundi. Each step dropped them deeper into the realm of the material. Each being assembled a more solid form. Once again the Angels danced on the very top of one of Earth's highest Mountains. Climbers far away stood and stared at the clouds forming over Kangchenjunga. Those with eyes that could see watched the Angels flow down the mountain slopes and disappear like dew on the slopes.

To the Angels the appearance of reality thickened. The harmonics of the celestial realm slowed and the music dulled. They spiraled down the Axis Mundi and at the Earth plain visions of the high cold mountains appeared. The snow on the mountains challenged the white of their wings.

Down the stairs they traveled each layer of reality more dense than the previous. At last they began to step out into Hell's Garden, At the foot of the stair they walked between Hell's gate guardians, two glittering statues of blue crystal, the Fallen Angels, Belial and Verrine. Their faces were terrible and their swords of crystal shards were raised in warming. They were the Penitent's first introduction to the realities of Hell.

Samuel separated Metatron from the group of contrite Angels and summoned Hell's spirits to escort the new arrivals to their individual cells. Word had been sent to Hell to get the requisite number of stone carved cells ready for the new arrivals. Each Seraph would begin their period of penitence alone. To beings that lived in their choir and who all called each other brother or sister isolation was a form of torture.

There was a window provided in each cell that overlooked the Hellish plain. The Angels would be able to contemplate the commerce of Hell, the herds of demons released from the pit after being broken and transformed. The cries of suffering, the crashing of thunder, all the tumult of Hell filled those cells hour after hour.

There would be no peace except that generated by the penitent being. They could provide their own comfort once truly reborn into the pure path of exaltation. Raphael's vision had leaded them astray. Now the visions of Hell were their reward. It might take eons for some to regain what they had lost. Some might never again touch the hem of the trailing gown of glory but here, in this place, they would be offered a chance.

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Finally home, Samuel flopped down on his throne. Castiel grinned, actually grinned and sat in his own throne more carefully. Kneeling on the checkerboard floor of the audience room Metatron waited with bowed head, Satan's sword pricking the back of his neck.

"Well, isn't this just charming," the Scribe sneered. "Consorting with Demons are you Castiel? I should have expected it. You always were more than a little off."

Satan pressed his sword more firmly against the Scribe's neck.

"Careful there buck-o," Metatron growled. "You Fallen truly have forgotten your place in the scheme of thigs, haven't you? I am still an Angel. I am still the Scribe of God. You are not worthy to stand in my presence."

The Scribe was trying to get some kind of response out of Satan. He could have picked an easier target but Satan held the sword at his neck.

Castiel leaned forward on his throne. "Metatron, do you know whose bones were used to make my throne here in Hell?"

"Not my problem." The Scribe replied. "I have no idea nor could I care less."

"These are the bones of Zachariah, the last Angel who plotted the downfall of The Winchesters Vessels; the last Angel who plotted to rule over paradise as the Master of Heaven. He was also the last Angel who attempted to control the Archangels with lies and visions of glory. Did you think your schemes and plans were original? "

"It might not have been original," the Scribe replied while trying to push Satan's sword aside. "I would like to point out that it almost worked and worked because the Archangels are some of the stupidest Angels in existence. Raphael is as dumb as a rock."

That got Samuel to his feet and part way down the stairs. Looming over the Scribe of God Samuel let Lucifer take over the show.

Lucifer chose to appear as the flaming image of a warrior of God. Metatron slid back away from Lucifer's fiery presence. Those few demons who had been hanging around waiting for the show fled and Satan knelt in obedience.

In a voice that literally shook the floor of the Castle of Bones Lucifer cried out. "You are speaking of my beloved brothers. How dare you disparage their gifts? Raphael was created to bring Healing to the Universe; to guide souls to Heaven, to deliver succor to his brothers in their sorrows. You poisoned him, perverted him from his God given path and now you call him stupid? I suppose Michael is also stupid, and Gabriel and even me? Is that right, Grima Wormtongue?"

Metatron glanced at the fiery face looming over him. "Is the literary reference supposed to make me think that you, Morning Star, are the intelligent brother? Would the smartest of all have spent so many long eons trap in a light filled cage? "

Lucifer reached out his hand and wrapped it around the Scribe's throat. As Lucifer's fingers tightened, the Scribe's essence began to smoke.

"I'll tell you, Scribe, what I think," Lucifer said softly. "I think you deserve to burn but it would be a fate far too quick for the damage you have done." With those words Lucifer tossed the damaged Angel to the floor.

"For poisoning my sweet brother Raphael you shall lose your poisonous tongue. For imprisoning the faithful in Heaven you have earned your own cage. For daring to look upon my face you shall lose your eyes. The next few eons you will spend in darkness and silence."

Lucifer turned to Satan, one of the New Knights of Hell. "Satan, my brother, please make it so."

As Satan made to drag the wounded Scribe from the room there was a loud whistle and a shout from the dais. With a thump Dean Winchester arrived and landed hard in the Consort's chair.

"Hi guys," he called out cheerfully. "Did I miss anything?"