Chapter 37: Calling All Angels
A/N: Geez, at this rate, I may actually be able to have the story finished by the time season ten rolls around. Which would be pretty cool, considering that I originally wanted to finish this off before season nine premiered. Curse you, life!
Anyway, thank you to Millenium Ring, Dumbledore'sWisdom, SPNgirl28, FreedomXJustice, Insert Name Here, Nameless, ofmooseandmen, and Aini NuFire for their reviews!
Oh, and I guess I should put in a disclaimer here just in case: I don't own Olive Garden.
Dean was reluctant to let Sam go when he hugged him goodbye the next day.
"What's the old saying? If you love something, let it go…" Crowley said impatiently from behind Sam.
"Get bent," Dean told the demon.
"That's my line," Crowley retorted.
With his expression schooled to look something close to stoic, Dean released Sam, but only because he was afraid Crowley was going to start singing "Let It Go".
He slid Ruby's knife out his pocket and offered it to his brother, who took it with a somber expression. He moved to embrace Bobby, and over the other hunter's shoulder, he saw Crowley roll his eyes in an exaggerated manner and check his watch. Too bad. If he wasn't going to see Bobby and Sam in person for who knew how long, he was going to enjoy his goodbye.
"Don't make me have to drag you back from beyond the grave again," Dean said to Bobby.
"We'll be fine," Bobby responded. "Watch out for Cas and the kid. Don't get dead while we're gone."
"Wouldn't dream of it." Bobby withdrew, and then looked expectantly at Crowley. "Well?"
"I'll transport you one at a time," the demon said. "I could take us all at once, but I'd rather not tire myself out like that." He gripped hand on Sam's arm, did a little finger-wave, and then promptly disappeared with his younger brother and his luggage.
Several seconds passed. Crowley returned. He glanced between Dean and Castiel. "I'll see you when this is all over, I suppose."
"Remember, one of you calls every day." Dean took a step towards Crowley, almost threateningly. "You watch out for Sam, you hear me, Crowley? You're the reason he's doing this. If something happens to him-"
Crowley held up a hand. "Hard though you may find it to believe... I do actually care about whether your precious little brother lives or dies. Not that he needs my protection, but I will bring him home with all important pieces still attached."
Someday he would accept the fact that Crowley honestly gave a damn about Sam. He hoped that day would come soon. "As long as we understand each other."
"Luckily I'm brilliant at translating your beautifully expressive grunts, or we could have an issue communicating," Crowley said, words doused with sarcasm as per usual. "Call you maybe." He winked at the two of them. He set his hand on Bobby's shoulder. A second later, the space that the demon and hunter previously occupied was empty.
"Sometimes I really wish we could just kill him," Dean said.
"And other times?" Cas inquired.
"Other times he's... tolerable." Sometimes even endearing, those though moments were few and far between.
"Our lives have gotten very strange," the ex-angel observed. "More so than usual."
Dean nodded. "No kidding." The two of them fell silent. Dean turned to look at his friend. He didn't really know what to do, now. "Well… you want some lunch, Cas?"
"I am somewhat hungry," he admitted.
"What do you say we go out to eat? Shake things up. You ever had Italian before?"
"You made macaroni just the other night."
"That's… that just so doesn't count, man." He patted Cas on the back. "Come on. Neither of us has been getting out enough, lately." He made his way up the stairs, Cas following doggedly behind. "There's an Olive Garden in Lebanon. You'll love it." And maybe if I eat myself into a food coma, I'll forget that my brother's on the other side of the planet for awhile. "Endless breadsticks," he added, glancing over his shoulder at Cas.
The ex-angel smiled weakly at him, and ever-so-briefly, he felt better.
"Dude, I'm gonna do a public service here and let you know that if you keep going like this, you're really gonna regret it later."
"Why?" Cas asked through a mouthful of gnocchi. "I feel perfectly fine, now. This is delicious."
"Yeah, well, eight bowls in, I'm surprised you still feel that way."
"The waitress said the soup is endless."
"It is, Cas, but that doesn't mean you should eat it endlessly."
"I've also had bread sticks."
"I know. You've cleared out the last three baskets," Dean said, unable to hide the amusement in his voice. "Guess being human ain't so bad sometimes, huh?"
"It does have its advantages," the ex-angel admitted. Dean smirked, and then carefully slid Cas's near empty bowl away from him. Cas seemed to consider stabbing him with his salad fork.
"I'm cutting you off. Keep going and I'll eat your tiramisu as punishment," Dean said. Cas looked tempted to argue, but eventually he set down his utensils and took a sip of his drink, relenting in his attempts to eat twice his own body weight.
"Fine. I suppose this would be a good time to bring up something I've been meaning to speak to you about," Cas said. Dean forked in another mouthful of noodles, looking at Castiel expectantly. "I still believe that we need to get in contact with the angels."
Dean swallowed. "We've already talked about this. I'm not going on the horn to try and set up a meet and greet with a bunch of dicks who want you dead."
"Do you really want to stand idly by while a war is going on?" Cas asked. "I've known you for years, Dean. That's never something you've been comfortable with before."
"We're not just sittin' around with our thumbs up our asses! You're doing the trials, Kevin's on the tablet, the others are looking for Joshua – we're handling this."
"All of our solutions are relatively long term. It would do us no harm in the meantime to connect with the angels and see if there is something we can do to assist them."
"No harm – Jesus, man, where've you been? If there's one thing your family isn't, it's harmless."
"If we just explain that Metatron tricked me-"
"See, you're going ahead and assuming that they're going to give you the chance to actually talk before they run you through with an angel blade," Dean interrupted. Cas's expression turned to one of aggravation.
"They are my brothers and sisters, Dean. I led them, once, and they will give me the chance to speak my piece before acting rashly."
"You can't guarantee that."
"I'm going to simplify this discussion," Cas said, blue eyes drilling into Dean's. "I'm going to call on Anthriel. I would like to do this with you, but if you are uncomfortable with it, I will do it alone."
"The only thing that could make this plan worse is for you to do this solo," Dean said. "Cas… seriously, man, I'm begging you. Just listen to me on this one, okay? I am right sometimes, you know."
"I understand that you are concerned for me, but though I am no longer an angel, I am still capable of taking care of myself," Cas said bluntly. His features softened somewhat after a moment. "You are not everyone's guardian, Dean. The safety of those around you is not always on your shoulders."
The sentiment was nice, but the protective, big brother instinct had been drilled into him since he could walk and talk – he wasn't going to be able to suddenly pull a radical personality change. He sighed heavily, scratching the back of his neck.
"See, this is why there's no point in arguing with you. You're always so sure you're right, it's like talking to a friggin' brick wall."
"I wonder where I acquired that trait from," Cas said, and Dean realized after a second that Cas was being sarcastic. In spite of himself, Dean chuckled lowly. The guy was learning.
"I don't want to do this, but if you're hell bent on it, I'm not letting you do it alone," he eventually said.
"I suspected you would feel that way." Cas gave him a small smile.
"I feel so manipulated." Dean snorted. "So, how exactly do you want to do this? Can the angels still hear prayers?"
"According to the reports Crowley's received and his own scouting, it would appear that the angels are communicating without having to speak aloud, so that leads me to believe that the angel radio is still in play, though I can no longer hear it. If that's true, they will still be able to answer prayers."
"Okay… so why do you want to call down Anthriel instead of that Nisroc dude you mentioned right after the Fall?"
"Anthriel was with the garrison. Although I've never had extended contact with her, she was on my side during the civil war in Heaven," Cas explained. "Also, she is the angel of balance and harmony. I expect she will be more even-keeled than Nisroc."
"This Nisroc guy, he was Raphael's bitch?"
"There were small groups of angels that remained neutral during the war," Cas said. "Nisroc was one of them. After I disappeared and the intelligence division took control of Heaven, Nisroc joined in with Naomi and those like her. I am disinclined to trust anyone that allied themselves with her. I suspect the only reason that Anthriel is willing to work with him is because they need numbers in order to take on Abaddon."
"Great. Nothing like working with people you can't trust."
"It has been a long time since any members of the Host have been able to actually have faith in one another," Cas said soberly. "As long as we all want the same thing, however, I believe it is safe to work with her - and Nisroc, by extension."
Dean frowned. It was all about motives, wasn't it? But what happened when the war was over... what then? Would they just have another war on their hands, once the angels found something to fight with each other about? He was really starting to see the wisdom in Cas's 'lock up Heaven' plan. Angels were soldiers, and they would never settle for not having an enemy to exact some righteous wrath on.
"Okay. So when and where?" Dean finished off the last bite of his penne and looked at Cas expectantly.
"As soon as possible, though we shouldn't do it at the bunker. Not only is it heavily warded against angels, but if they were able to get in somehow, it would no longer be as advantageous a location for us to stay."
He had to agree with him, there. The greatest advantage over the bunker was that no one knew where they were unless they wanted them to. Regular old Fortress of Solitude.
"You sure this angel chick's gonna be able to just zap over when we pray to her, with all the angels being sans wings?" Dean asked.
"As Crowley mentioned before, the angels can transport themselves without their wings. Although the cost of teleportation is a direct exertion on their Grace, it's still possible," Cas explained.
Dean nodded. He still wasn't a fan of this plan, but at the very least, they were going to be able to contribute something to the war while the others were away. He still wanted to get back to normal hunts at some point, but if there was something they could do to take Abaddon down a peg, then he wanted to do it.
He still worried about the risk it posed to Cas, though.
"Alright..." Dean gave Cas a tense smile. "I'll grab Kevin a to-go box, pay, we'll go get whatever we need from the bunker, and then we'll go break out the 'forgive me, Father' routine."
They'd chosen an abandoned barn several miles from the bunker as a decent spot to set up their little angel meeting.
"Okay... so, uh, do you want to do the honors, or should I?" Dean asked, nervously tapping his fingers on the side of his angel blade. He preferred Ruby's knife, but he felt better about Sam having the anti-demon knife while he was away, so for the time being, he was switching weapons.
"Your methods of prayer are not always the most... respectful," Cas said slowly. "Not to mention, the angels are wary of both you and your brother. I think they would be more likely to come if I prayed."
"Wary of us?" Dean cocked his head in a fashion that made him realize that he'd been spending way too much time with Cas.
"Dean," Cas said, almost exasperated. "You do realize almost every angel you've ever assosciated with - positively or negatively - has died? I doubt many of my brothers and sisters are eager to cross paths with you. They would probably think of it as a death sentence."
"Point." He gestured at the ex-angel with a sour expression. "Alright then... I think you can probably skip the whole forehead/carpet deal. Just... say it's you and say you want to talk. You're not exactly low profile Upstairs."
Cas swallowed anxiously. "I feel as though this is going to go poorly," he admitted.
"Dude, when was the last time something didn't go poorly for us?" Dean asked. "Plus, you were the one who wanted to get in on the angel and demon royal rumble. Are you having second thoughts?"
"I believe the saying is that I have cold feet," Cas replied. "It doesn't matter. This needs to be done." With a deep breath, Castiel closed his eyes. Dean braced himself for whatever was to come, gripping the angel blade tighter in his hand. Cas had one hidden up his sleeve, but he knew that the ex-angel would be reluctant to use it.
"Anthriel... it is Castiel. I wish to speak with you. I am in Lebanon, Kansas. I would be grateful if you allowed me to explain myself-"
Cas didn't even finish his prayer before a hot blonde woman suddenly appeared in front of him, expression stormy with rage.
"Castiel. It's been too long."
A second later, the new angel's hand was around Cas's throat. She slammed him into the wall of the derelict barn, digging her thumb into his windpipe as she lifted him several inches off of the ground. "You have the gall to banish us from our home and then call on me-"
"Anthriel, I-" Cas attempted to speak, his voice hoarse from the lack of air, but Anthriel tightened her grip, cutting off his air completely. Cas's face began to turn red.
"You don't get to speak, Castiel. Not anymore. You've lost that right. You destroyed everything!"
Anthriel froze when Dean came around from behind her and positioned his angel blade along her throat. "Hey, bitch," Dean growled. "How about you give him a chance to talk before you go all holy roller on him?"
Cas shook his head furiously, mouthing 'run'. He was no doubt worrying that Anthriel was going to turn around and smite the shit out of him.
"Let go of Castiel, or we will have a problem," Dean hissed into the female angel's ear. Balance and harmony my ass. He hadn't felt this kind of anger in awhile... this was the kind of pissed that he only got when it came to Cas and his safety. The last time he'd been this tempted to gut an angel was the last time he ran into Naomi.
Reluctantly, Anthriel released Cas. The ex-angel fell to his feet, hand going to his neck as he choked and spluttered. He realized this was probably the first time that Cas was faced with that nasty human condition of needing oxygen to live.
"You have ten seconds," Anthriel said in a warning tone. Dean roughly grabbed the angel's arm and pushed his angel blade into her neck just enough to draw a thin line of blood. She winced.
"He has as long as he needs."
"I... was tricked," Cas managed after he regained some of his breath. He stood back up, straightening to his full height He looked directly at Anthriel, and she had sky blue eyes, just like Cas. He was pleading with her to understand. "Metatron fooled me into thinking that he was trying to help Heaven, when in reality he was trying to throw us out of our home. My Grace was key to the spell, for some reason, so he led me on in order to secure it for his plan. I had no idea that this would happen, sister. I would never have helped with something like this."
"You expect me to believe that?" she snapped. "After all you've done, you expect me to believe that you had only good intentions?"
"Good intentions have always been my problem," Cas responded sadly. "We all know where they lead. But please, you have to believe me, now - I did not do this. This was Metatron."
"Why would the Scribe want to shut down Heaven? No one has seen him since Father left!"
"He is bitter that he was cast out. I would venture to call him evil. He murdered Naomi, and he performed the spell to shut the Gates out of spite. He hates us, Anthriel, that is why he did this! He wanted Paradise to himself while the rest of us suffered!" Cas was getting angry, he could tell. Good. It wouldn't kill the guy to get out some of that pent-up aggression.
"Says the angel that has made our race suffer more than every demon combined," Anthriel said. Dean dug the angel blade in deeper. There was a reason he said that all angels - barring Cas - were dicks.
"Please, sister, look at me. Look at me," Cas begged. "I'm human. Metatron took my Grace... my wings... my home... my power... I paid for this, just as we all have. I did not want this. I want to fix Heaven, I want to reopen the Gates so we can all return."
Anthriel narrowed her eyes at Castiel, and then stiffened. "You are human... but there is no way to reopen Heaven. It is too late."
"It is possible. The Prophet, Kevin Tran, he is in the process of translating the angel tablet. I have already begun the angel trials. Once completed, the Gates will open again, and we can return."
"You? You have undertaken the trials?"
"Always the tone of surprise," Dean muttered sarcastically.
"Yes. I've already completed the first. There are two more, but the Prophet needs time to translate them." Cas looked at Anthriel beseechingly. "Please. Anthriel. We want to help you. We want to end this war with the demons. I'm asking you to give me the benefit of the doubt. You fought in my name, once. Now I am asking to fight in yours."
He wanted to tell Cas that he was sounding a little too much on the sycophant-y side, but decided that he should just let him keep going.
"I'm asking for us to speak, on friendly terms," Cas said.
Anthriel glared at him. "I hardly consider this friendly, with your human pet holding a sword to my throat."
"Dean was only trying to protect me. He is a good friend." Cas met Dean's eyes over Anthriel's shoulder. "He will release you if I ask him to."
"Then do it. Prove to me that you mean what you say, Castiel," Anthriel told him harshly.
"Dean, please release her," Cas asked him politely.
"How about she hands over her angel blade, then I let her go?"
"We will allow her to keep it as a show of good faith," Cas suggested.
"I'm a little short on good faith, Cas."
Cas gave him a warning look, and Dean understood that if he got into an argument with him here in front of Anthriel, it wouldn't exactly look good. He and Cas still had their weapons, so he supposed it couldn't go that bad. After a moment of deliberation, he backed up, releasing the female angel. She massaged her neck, and the wound quickly disappeared. She regarded Dean like he was something foul she'd just peeled off of her shoe.
"Fine, Castiel. You want to speak? We will speak. I cannot guarantee we will leave here on good terms, but I will at least hear you out."
"That is all I ask."