Chapter 38: Wishing You Were Here
A/N: Ugh, I lost my momentum. The next part of the story is probably my least favorite, so things may slow down a bit. Then again, the faster I write, the faster we get through it and onto the next section! Anyway, thank you to FreedomXJustice, SPN Mum, Dumbledore'sWisdom, Aini NuFire, Insert Name Here, Millenium Ring, Nunquam Iterum, and ofmooseandmen for their reviews!
Also, Insert Name Here, since I can't PM you: Yes, I do have a firm plan for how the story turns out, so worry not! It's all leading up to the 'big moment', as it were.
Sam took in the setting that Crowley had transported him to; he was in an upscale hotel room, he could tell that much. The sheer amount of white around him was almost blinding with the rays of sunlight streaming in through the wall length windows. He was standing in what appeared to be a spacious sitting room. Smooth white furniture surrounded him, and his leg was bumping into a glass coffee table. He craned his neck and looked up. A crystal chandelier hung over his head.
Bobby and Crowley appeared on the other side of the room. Bobby swung his head around, taking in the expansive suite. The sitting room was open to a massive chrome kitchen. White tile shined in the daylight, and the black countertops were the only thing that weren't on the verge of glowing. The fridge had double doors, a freezer, and one of those ice machine things. There was a double tiered oven, a large kitchen sink, and every other appliance one could ever need in a kitchen.
There was a sliding glass door. Sam saw that it led to a balcony. He could see skyscrapers out of the windows. He felt his jaw drop just as Crowley and Bobby appeared next to him.
"Crowley, where the hell are we?" Sam asked. Bobby looked equally awed.
"We're currently in the penthouse of the Lavilla Palace Hotel in Doha," Crowley said. "What is it the kids are saying these days? Go hard, or go home?"
"This is totally overboard," Sam replied. "I can't even imagine how much this place costs per night."
"More money than you've ever seen in your life," Crowley assured him. "Luckily, that's one thing I don't have any shortage of." The demon smirked at him. "I own the moon, Moose. Are you really surprised that I can afford the VIP treatment?"
"Okay, yeah, I guess it makes sense." He set his bag down on the couch. "Where are our rooms?"
"Bobby's is to the left, yours is to the right," Crowley said. "Obviously, I won't be needing one. I'll be far too busy playing Indiana Jones to lounge around in the lap of luxury."
"Where are you planning on starting?" Bobby asked, setting his bag down next to Sam's.
"The Persian Gulf Coast. There's a few areas I'd like to search around here. Doha's my personal preference when it comes to coastal cities, so it'll serve as our... home base, I suppose. Not to mention, there's significantly less chance of the two of you getting kidnapped by anti-government guerillas or getting caught in a suicide bombing while I'm gone than most of the other large cities in this part of the world. There's enough libraries here that you'll be able to keep busy. Hopefully find something that can get us over the rainbow."
Bobby narrowed his eyes at the demon. "This isn't the first time you've thought of tracking down Eden, is it?"
Crowley snorted. "Always the perceptive one, aren't you, Robert?" He sank down onto one of the sleek couches and crossed his legs. "I may have a... scholarly interest in Eden."
"Uh-huh." The older hunter didn't seem convinced.
"Knowledge is power," Crowley answered, somewhat evasively. "Go. Settle in. I've already hired a car service that will take you wherever you want in the city. Call when you want them - number's on the fridge."
"Did you ward our rooms?" Sam inquired.
"Do you even need to ask?" Crowley arched an eyebrow at him. "You know me, Moose. I cover all of my bases." Crowley rose from the chair, brushing nonexistent dust off of his suit. "Well, obviously, I've got a bit of adventuring to do. Call me if you find anything, need anything, bla bla bla." He wiggled his fingers at the two of them. "Kisses." The demon disappeared.
To Anthriel's credit, the angel listened respectfully as Dean and Castiel explained the more in-depth details of what transpired with Metatron and what led to the Fall. The angel's countenance seemed to relax more as they told her about the first trial's success and their mission to reopen the Gates of Heaven. Cas still couldn't tell if she was willing to ally with them or not, however.
When they'd said all that needed to be said, the two of them waited somewhat anxiously for Anthriel's response. The angel had barely said a word since she agreed to hear them out.
"You understand that I will have to consult Nisroc on this matter," the blonde angel said. Cas's expression soured at that. He wished that he could choose some other option than throwing in with an angel that likely cleaned the torture instruments Naomi had used on him.
"Yes. I understand."
Anthriel sighed, carding a hand through her thick tresses. "Though I have the distinct feeling I will regret saying this, I believe you, Castiel… but I still think that perhaps another show of 'good faith' is in order."
"What the hell? You just said that you believe us, why do we need to convince you?" Dean asked. He noticed that the hunter still had his angel blade gripped in his hand. Dean didn't trust Anthriel, that much was clear.
Castiel was inclined to follow his friend's example.
"What is it you want from us, Anthriel?"
"We're not her bitches, Cas," Dean growled out. He shot the hunter a warning look that said not now. He was grateful when Dean fell silent. It meant a lot to him that Dean was willing to (albeit not necessarily happily) follow his lead on this, especially knowing how much Dean disliked surrendering control on any matter.
"It is not your word that I doubt, though I'm sure the other angels will. It is your ability to actually be useful to us in regards to the war. You're only human, now, and your allies are only human as well." He and Dean had pointedly left Crowley out of their description of the first trial. Anthriel would never listen to him if she knew that he was once again working with the King of Hell.
She also thought that Sam was still dying, thanks to the trials to shut the Gates of Hell. He thought revealing the fact that Gabriel was still alive to the remainder of the Heavenly Host would be a poor way to thank him for saving Sam. Also, then they wouldn't have to explain why Sam wasn't with them – the angels would assume that Sam was still ailing and unable to hunt with them.
"Only human?" Dean repeated incredulously. "Yeah, well, hate to break it to you sweetheart, but humans stopped the apocalypse. Humans shut down Dick Roman and the Leviathans. Humans nearly slammed the Hell-door permanently while you and your brothers and sisters were busy tearing each other's throats out and brainwashing each other."
"You never would have been able to stop Michael and Lucifer if the Crossroads King and Castiel hadn't held your hands," Anthriel said sharply. "The same goes for the Leviathan – which you weren't even able to wipe out entirely. And as for the Gates of Hell, if you'd actually been able to shut them, we wouldn't be in the position we're in now. The world wouldn't be at war."
Cas could see that Anthriel was one of the prejudiced angels who thought of humans as little more than animals. Hopefully, they would be able to change that misconception.
Dean glowered at Anthriel, but Cas said, "Enough." before Dean could retort. A petty argument wouldn't solve anything. "We may be human, but that does not make us weak. What must we do to prove that to you?"
"There is a demon nest in Boston, Massachusetts. It is causing our forces there many issues."
"Why not just wipe it off the map? You've got a hell of a lot more fire power than we do," Dean pointed out.
"The entire facility is heavily warded. I believe Abaddon might have drawn the Enochian sigils herself, with how detailed and extensive they are. It seems that Abaddon's lieutenant runs the campaign in America from there, while Abaddon is in western Europe – or so my sources tell me. If we could do away with that compound, it would be a large step towards winning the battle on this continent."
"You want us to do the mass-murder routine on a joint full of demons solo?" Dean asked, eyebrows almost touching his hairline. "Are you out of your friggin' mind?"
"If humans can save the world, surely a few demons aren't too much for you?" The angel's sarcasm was not lost on either of them.
"Screw you," Dean replied, not missing a beat.
"We'll do it," Cas said at the same time. He met Dean's eyes, but he spoke to Anthriel. "It is nothing that we can't handle."
"Good. Do this, and we will all know that we can rely on you… and your friends. I wish you luck. Pray to me when you are done." Anthriel nodded stiffly at the two of them. A split second later, she was gone, leaving Cas in the derelict barn with a fuming Winchester.
"She's trying to kill us," Dean said, finally sheathing his angel blade. "She wants to wipe us off the board before we can cause her any trouble. She doesn't think we're useless. She knows we're dangerous, she knows we're a threat. She wants those demons gone and she wants us gone. Two birds with one stone."
"You're not wrong," Cas responded. "But that doesn't change the fact that taking out this nest could turn the odds in favor of the angels. We need to do it."
"You want to play into her game."
"I want to win her game." Cas took a deep breath. "We've faced far worse than a few demons, haven't we?"
Dusty wind blew at Crowley's hair, and he squinted his eyes with irritation. Between the intense wind, insufferable heat, and eye-stinging, nose-clogging sand storms, he felt like he was vacationing in Hell. It wasn't as dreadful now that the sun was down, but it still wasn't pleasant by any stretch of the imagination.
His cell phone rang in his pocket. He was surprised he had service here. He reached for it, checking the caller ID. Squirrel. Great. Moose must've forgotten to check in with big brother.
With an exasperated sigh, Crowley picked up. "Moose is perfectly fine, got all his fingers and toes even. Happy?"
"Sam already called me, Crowley. I know he's alright," Dean responded tiredly. "Cas and I need your help with something."
"Don't you always?"
"It won't take long. You remember the demon bombs Kevin made?"
"Killed two of my best men, so yes, I remember."
"Yeah, we're gonna need some of those," Dean said bluntly. Of course. They'd been gone, what, seven hours? And already Cas and Dean had gotten themselves into some kind of trouble?
"Do I get an explanation, or are you going to make me guess?"
"Well, I finally broke and agreed to set up a meeting with the angels. She nearly killed Cas, but we managed to convince her that he didn't mean to shut down Heaven, that it was all Metatron. But here's the thing: the bitch wants a show of 'good faith'. Personally, I think she wants to get us killed, but whatever - there's a big ass demon nest in Boston we're gonna have to take down. Abaddon's right hand demon's hanging out there, and we gotta ice everyone in the place for the angels, since they can't get past the warding. So yeah, we need some extra fire power."
"You want to take on an entire demon nest on your own?" Crowley repeated. "Are you mad?"
"Probably. So how about those bombs? You remember what ingredients you need?"
Crowley sighed. "I'm not going ingredient hunting for you lot. Trying to find the Garden of Eden, remember?" He pulled his address book out of his pocket. "I can, however, give you the next best thing."
"And what's that?"
"I happen to have a stockpile of the necessary ingredients in Kansas City, in a warehouse I own. Go there, get what you need, and you'll be ready to take on a veritable army. A warning, though: Abaddon may have already gotten to it. I've no idea what's safe and what isn't anymore. Tread carefully."
"Okay, road trip it is," Dean said after Crowley gave him the address, sounding only slightly disgruntled. Progress. "Guess we better head out."
"One more thing, Squirrel."
"Yeah?"
"Check my night stand. My angel gun is inside of it, extra ammo and all," he told him. He had his angel blade, so he hadn't seen any need to take it with him on this Garden hunting adventure.
"Angel gun... you mean the thing you shot Cas with?"
He flinched at the memory. He could practically hear Cas's screams echoing in his head. And his own laugh. He wiped his hand subconsciously on his pants, almost sure that there was hot blood sticking to his skin. "Yes," he said shortly. "Kills demons just as well as an angel blade."
"Huh." He couldn't read the oldest Winchester's tone. "Well. Thanks, Crowley."
"Ah, now that's something I never tire of hearing," he cracked, regaining some of his composure. "Good luck. Try not to die."
"That's our motto." Without further chatter, Dean hung up. Crowley stared at the phone for a few moments, and he realized there was worry gnawing in his stomach. Okay, worry for Sam, with their mental connection, that made sense. Concern for Dean Winchester and his pet angel on the other hand, well, that just wasn't natural.
"Bollocks," Crowley muttered to himself before looking out at the endless stretch of sand in front of him. With a sigh, he plodded forward. The Garden wasn't going to find itself.
"I would really like to know where Crowley found a surplus of Egyptian calf skull," Cas said as the twinkling lights of Kansas City came into their line of sight.
"I'm starting to learn that when it comes to Crowley, it's best to ask as few questions as humanly possible," Dean grumbled. "Here's hoping Abaddon doesn't have a friggin' army lined up and waiting for us."
"That would be unfortunate. Though really, what would demons want with demon bombs? A weapon like that would be of no use against an angel, and with the war, you would think that their efforts would be targeted towards that."
"They're not there looking for demon bomb ingredients, Cas, they're waiting for Crowley. Abaddon wants the little bastard dead something fierce."
"He is her only competition to the throne."
"Yup. So yeah, we should probably expect a hit squad. Or at least guards."
The remaining fifteen minutes of their trip passed uneventfully, and when they arrived at Crowley's warehouse, Dean was proven right. Two men stood by the warehouse's side door. He opened his mouth to ask Cas if they were demons, but then he remembered that the ex-angel had no way to tell anymore.
"Probably demons," Dean said. Cas nodded, drawing his angel blade.
"There's only two. It's not an issue."
Two slit throats and a few unfortunate stains on Dean's favorite pair of jeans later, and the two of them had taken care of Abaddon's minimal security. "Let's get in, get what we need, and get the hell out of here. Smart money says that if they don't check in, Abba-bitch will send in the cavalry."
"Yes, let's hurry," Cas agreed.
The warehouse had been mercifully untouched by the demons that had been guarding it. Tubs were stacked high inside the relatively small warehouse, each labeled with what contents it held. There was enough of the crap here to make hundreds and hundreds of bombs.
"I don't know how much of this we're gonna be able to fit in Baby," Dean said. "Probably only five boxes, and that's if we push it."
"It will have to be enough," Cas said as he stooped to grab one of the boxes. He huffed as he lifted it. "Oh. Oh." He set it back down, wincing.
"Missing the superhuman strength?" Dean asked, a touch of sadness in his tone. Cas's life lately seemed to be made up of learning to deal with the limitations of humanity.
Cas sighed deeply. "More and more by the day," he admitted, massaging his arm.
"Here, I got you, man." Dean grabbed one side of the box and nodded for Cas to take the other. The former angel leaned over and did so, and together, the two of them lifted the weighty box. "See? No problem."
Cas shot him a grateful look, and the two of them began loading the Impala up with the necessary ingredients to build up their anti-demon artillery.