Chapter 53

A Nudge

The rumble of Baby's engine, for a moment, drowned out the unspoken questions between the hunter and his angel.

What were they supposed to do without an army?

What could be done about Castiel's diminishing borrowed grace?

How was Dean going to control himself the net time his bloodlust kicked in?

And how the hell were they going to defeat Metatron and bring the Angels back home?

Their thoughts however, were interrupted by the "Vvvv vvvvvv" of a vibrating cell phone.

Dean picked up. "Sam?" he asked.

Hopefully, he was just calling to check in on a Hunt and tell him how everything went.

"I'm stranded in Oswego."

"New York?" Oh jeez. "What happened?"

"Dean…" Sam's voice was trembling. "Cassie's gone."

Dean's heart stopped. No. "What do you mean, she's gone?"

"My sister?" Cas' eyes darted to Dean, full of panic.

"We came here on a hunt. It's a massive haunting, there's nothing we can do. Her family was killed…I…I w-went into the house to find her…but she was gone."

Dean felt emotion well up, imagining how broken up and destroyed Cassie must be feeling. But he had to focus. "What do you mean, massive haunting?"

"The bodies go on for miles, Dean. It's a giant dumping ground. Probably for everyone from mafia members to serial killers. It's impossible for us to salt and burn every collection of remains."

That's crazy. It made the human centipede sound like My Little Pony. "I'm comin', Sammy, just get someplace safe and text me your location."

"Yeah," Sam said, and hung up.

"Son of a bitch," Dean muttered.

He should've been there with the two of them instead of banging his boyfriend on the nearest office desk and forging the ultimatum that cost them their army.

"Angel," Dean said gently but firmly, "I know you're runnin' on empty, but give me everything you've got to get us the fuck to New York."


"Lovely day, isn't it? 2005 was a pretty good year, in my opinion. The Chicago White Sox won the World Series, Gwen Stefani broke away from No Doubt, Jeannette Walls published her memoir…can't say I'm happy about Stephanie Meyer's creation of Twilight – "

" – Where am I and why the hell is it 2005?!" Cassie interrupted. She glanced around her to see if her yelling had invoked a reaction in anyone.

She might as well have been invisible.

"Considering you're a bit new to everything, I thought I'd provide some exposition to give you more of a perspective on things."

Cassie's eyes went to the young blonde again, realizing that if it was 2005, she could only be one person.

Jessica Moore.

"They make a cute couple, don't they? It only lasted about a year though until old Dean' O showed up and…well, why don't you just see for yourself?" Metatron snapped his fingers and just like that the scenery changed again.

She was in a dark hallway, looking into what looked like a dorm bedroom.

A young Sam was laying down on a bed, relaxed with his arms behind his head.

But suddenly something fell on his forehead.

Two drops of a red substance that -

He looked up and his eyes widened at the sight above him.

His sweet Jessica in a white nightgown, trapped on the ceiling with her stomach slit open and cold, dead eyes.

Her blonde hair was spread across the ceiling like a wreath around her head. Cassie screamed when the young woman suddenly caught flames.

It didn't take long for the entire room to be up in flames but all Sam could do was cry for Jess, his arms over his head as if to shield himself from what was happening.

Cassie ran to help him but to no avail.

She went right through him.

"Sam, go!" She cried, desperate to pull him out of the flames but he wouldn't budge.

But suddenly she heard someone else calling "Sam."

The voice gradually got louder and louder each time, until a figure appeared into the room.

Another young man. He had short light brown hair, an Adonis jawline, stark green eyes and adorned a baggy leather jacket.

Wait a minute…Dean? Cassie thought.

It was him but much, much younger.

The young Dean gawked up at the ceiling, his expression filling with horror and remorse, but otherwise not showing a reaction, like he'd seen the same thing once before.

Sam kept yelling, "No" over and over, bringing Dean back to attention. He bolted to his brother on the bed, immediately grabbing him and saying, "We've gotta go!"

He hugged his brother tight to him and starting running out of the room, but Sam kept resisting, stretching his neck over the shoulder of his older brother, unable to stop screaming, "Jess! No! No! Jess!"

Cassie's body flooded with relief, knowing Dean would get Sam somewhere safe.

But it was too late for the girl.

The two brothers disappeared into the darkness just before the room was completely consumed in violent orange flames.

Cassie shielded her eyes with her arm only to have the roaring of the fire suddenly fall silent.

She was somewhere else again.

In someone's apartment.

And there he was, young Sam once more.

He had the same glow in his eyes that Cassie thought he'd lost before, after Jessica's death.

But he was talking on a couch with an attractive young brunette, the credits of a movie rolling behind them.

"That one was Madison. There seems to be a real spark between them, don't you think? One of the few times Sammy connected with someone after his first relationship blew up in smoke."

The irony hadn't been lost on Cassie. "Shut the hell up," she gritted through her teeth at him, but she couldn't turn her eyes away.

She'd seen Sam like this before, stuttering over his words, biting his lip, trying to come up with the right words to say.

It was how he acted when he first met her.

To see him so joyful and full of hope was refreshing and put a pressure on her heart she couldn't put a name to.

Metatron sighed. "Aaaaand fast forward two days later…" he snapped his fingers and suddenly they were in the same room but Sam and Dean were talking privately, tears streaming down Sam's face. He was turned away from Dean, who was holding a gun in his right hand.

"I'm sorry," Dean said, his eyes filled with remorse, but Sam immediately responded with, "No, you're right." He could barely talk, he was so choked up. "Sh-she's right."

Dean nodded. "Sammy, I got this one, I'll do it."

Oh god, they're going to kill someone, Cassie thought, her eyes moving quickly between the two of them.

"She asked me to," Sam choked out.

The young Dean, with pouted lips and sad eyes countered with, "You don't have to."

"Yes I do," Sam protested, sniffling. He rubbed his lips together to steady himself and get a hold on his emotions. He held his hand out, taking a deep breath and said, "Please."

"Why are they killing her – " but then Cassie took note of the scratches across Sam's left cheek.

She'd turned into some kind of monster. And since it was their job, they had to kill her.

Dean took a long look at his brother, gauging whether or not he really meant it, and upon realizing he did, gingerly handed the gun to Sam, handle up without breaking eye contact.

Sam looked down at the gun, then back up at Dean. "Just wait here," he whispered.

Sam walked out of the room, positioning himself to enter Madison's bedroom, turned to take one last look at Dean for strength, then nodded and dove into the room.

Cassie watched as the second Sam disappeared, a tear fell from Dean's left eye, and saw when he flinched, full of sorrow as the gun went off in the other room.

Cassie felt tears welling up in her own eyes, the loss of her siblings still fresh in her mind as well as the pain and suffering Sam had to go through at such a young age.

Her age.

She heard Metatron's fingers snap once more, and then they were outside. It was a sunny day and Sam and Dean looked a bit banged up, like they'd just gotten done with a hunt.

Sam was talking to Dean in the car, and then suddenly Sam burst out of the passenger side, marched up the stairs to the building they were parked in front of, knocked vigorously upon the door and immediately kissed the woman who opened it.

"And her name was Sarah Blake. An auctioneer's daughter. She helped them figure out the haunting behind a painting they'd been about to auction off. The adopted daughter was a mass murderer, the father's ghost had been trying to warn people all along, blah blah blah, case solved, guy gets the girl."

Cassie felt a pang in her stomach at the sight of Sam enthusiastically making out and grabbing at another woman, but she had to keep in mind that this was years ago, before they'd ever met.

"Sam Winchester left that woman, thinking he'd never see her again, and then whoa and behold, seven years later…" Metatron snapped his fingers and they were standing in a studio apartment.

She recognized the woman on the floor as Sarah but older, and it appeared that she was suffocating.

Sam and Dean were running around the room, searching frantically for something.

But what?

A voice was on speaker, it echoed throughout the room.

She immediately recognized the British accent.

"I thought of sending in a few of my bruisers, REALLY letting them go to town. But then, well, trial one was kill a hellhound. Trial two was rescue a soul from the pit, so from here on, I'm gonna keep everything hell-related – demons, etcetera – away from you. Safe side and all that. Plus, I just thought it seemed fitting."

Crowley kept talking but Sam and Dean just continued to empty out bags, throw pillows, move furniture, everything they could do to find whatever it was they were looking for as Sarah's face started to change different colors and her breathing became more labored.

"From what I understand, Sammy took that bird's breath away."

Sarah's cheeks were red and blood vessels in her eyes were bursting.

"What's the line?"

Cassie closed her eyes she couldn't stand watching.

"Saving people hunting things – the family business."

Dean's expression filled with pure, genuine panic.

"They're looking for a hex bag that they can destroy to save Sarah, but they're searching was in vain," Metatron provided neutrally.

"Well, I think that the people you save, they're how you justify your pathetic little lives. The alcoholism, the collateral damage, the pain you've caused, the one thing that allows you to sleep at night, the one thing is knowing these folks are out there, still out there, happy and healthy because of you, you BLOODY HEROES!"

The scene in front of her was suddenly cut short, and then she and Metatron were in what looked like the ultimate writer's workshop.

A gorgeous mahogany desk and luxurious leather armchair were at the center of the room, surrounded by walls made of bookshelves, which held countless first editions of every classical literary work every conceived.

The carpet had a lush, intricate bohemian design, and Metatron was suddenly in a very comfortable looking robe.

"So, since I know you're smart to a degree, I'm assuming you can guess the pattern in all of those occurrences."

"You showed me a bunch of different women dying," Cassie said pointedly, keeping her distance from him.

"Well, yeah. But what connected all three of those women?"

She knew the answer. They all dared to love Sam Winchester.

"The common denominator was your current boyfriend. Lovely company, you choose to keep by the way. A bunch of smelly, alcoholic, sleep-deprived – "

" – I need to get back to Sam in Oswego and get the hell away from you." Elyse and David's cold, dead eyes were seared into her vision.

"I think you're missing the point of why I took you back to witness those lovely occurrences."

Cassie crossed her arms, waiting.

Metatron nodded. "You are an Angel, but lack your memories and your abilities. Therefore, in this fight, you are useless."

"Then why bother to kidnap me?" She asked.

"Because since you did used to be one of us, I wanted to try and spare you. This fight between Castiel and I has nothing to do with you. You're a human, and as such you have no business meddling in Holy affairs such as this one. It's bad enough the Winchesters have gotten themselves involved."

"My brother needs my help, and the Angels don't belong on Earth. I want to help them get back home."

"Don't you have enough problems of your own to deal with? Considering your vessel is rejecting you, Dean is starting to have Hulk Fits and your dearest Castiel is dying? And let's not forget your poor foster siblings. You ruined their lives. Leaving them brought them misery, and your return brought about their deaths – "

" – SHUT THE HELL UP!" That was it. She wouldn't sit and listen to any more of this crap.

"You won't survive for long if you still decide to participate in this feud. You have no control of your vessel, you're amateur at best when it comes to combat – "

" – I said shut your face!" She screamed. "I don't care about my short comings because I have a family to protect!" Castiel, Sam and Dean needed her.

Oh God, Sam.

He was all by himself in Oswego.

"Oh, because that worked out so well last time," Metatron snapped. "You can't protect anyone. You didn't learn that from losing your brother and sister?! If you're in the crossfire your dearest Sam is going to perish because he was worried about you, and all because a useless human decided to join the fight."

"I'm not a useless human." She briskly walked to the door, pulling at it to make it give.

But it didn't open.

"Every single woman who ever got involved in the life of Sam Winchester, even for an instant, died a painful, horrific death. You think the same isn't waiting for you?"

"NO!" She screamed, but deep down she didn't completely believe it. "Amelia survived. And I'm sure plenty of others - "

" -Oh yes, all one-night stands back when he didn't have a soul, but I digress." Metatron continued to watch her struggle with the door, growing more and more amused.

"Whatever. I'm different. I'm not some pathetic blonde who never had to scrounge for change, or a rich auctioneer's daughter, or a - "

" - Oh wow, is that resentment I hear? Pathetic blonde? Don't hate on Jessica, the poor girl didn't know she was going to - "

" - The point is, I'm strong. Sam told me so. He's said over and over that I'm different from the others. And I am. Because what sets me apart is I'm not afraid to die for him."

"And you think he isn't afraid of that?"

Cassie finally froze, his words stopping her in her tracks. She was ready to die for him, but she knew she couldn't. Ever.

It would destroy him.

"I'll let you go under one condition. You stay out of this fight, and out of my way."

Okay, that's it. "You know what? All I cared about was keeping the man I love safe, and protecting the people I care about. But now, I will join this war, and I WILL kick your ass and we WILL WIN!"

Metatron smirked as if she was doing nothing more than throwing a tantrum.

Cassie let go of the door handle, wiping her forehead. "You do think I'm a threat to you. Otherwise, why give me this little pep talk, pull me away from my family and ricochet me through time like a pinball? You're trying to convince me to stay out because you know that all I have to do is – "

But she felt a jolt inside her.

You promised. You said just a bit longer. You were going to find a way for us both to exist.

Sarah's voice was growing more and more angry inside of her.

I'm sorry but I don't have the luxury of spending time searching for a cure anymore. He's right. I can't protect my family as a human. That's already been proven. Elyse and David are dead because all I could do was throw salt at a ghost and then crumble to pieces.

We were supposed to be in this together! I was even starting to like you! Sarah screamed inside her, trying to send jolts of pain to Cassie's abdomen.

I'm sorry but I don't have a choice anymore. Time's up.

In that moment the door opened and Gadreel stepped over the threshold.

His eyes flashed with recognition, but she could see that he was still trying to play the part of loyal servant. "I am ready to send you wherever it is you need to go," he said in neutral iambic contamiter.

At that moment she felt her phone buzz in her pocket.

The Caller I.D. read Sam.

"Love?" She answered.

"Oh thank god," Sam said, his voice flooding with relief. "Are you okay? Where are you? I'm with Dean and Cass, we'll come get you."

Cassie looked down at herself, covered in mud, blood, and fatigued with all of the overwhelming emotions that stained her mind for good.

There was something she needed to do.

So she could be strong enough to protect Sam.

"Meet me in Sanford," she said abruptly, not breaking her gaze from Metatron, and hung up.

"Where is that?" Gadreel asked.

She swallowed, tucking her phone back in her pocket and wiping her eyes. "Maine."

"Very well, " he said, tapping her gently on the shoulder, and she was gone.

Metatron clapped his hands together, like he'd just finished cleaning. "Fantastic. That's one adversary out of the way," he said, pulling up his pants and adjusting his robe sleeves as if he'd just finished taking out the garbage.

Gadreel shook his head. "But how does this help? She will be attempting to activate her Grace now."

"Exactly," Metatron beamed.

"Why would you want her to regain her powers? Wouldn't she be more of a threat when her full strength returns?"

Metatron nodded. "Yes, if the spell were actually going to work. But it won't. She'll just end up offing herself, saving me the trouble of doing it myself."

Gadreel froze. Metatron had completely tricked her into doing exactly what he wanted.

"She's the anti-hero, which means she cannot progress and change as a character. She either stagnates, or gets destroyed. Sam will spiral out of control with grief at the loss of his beloved, Castiel will soon diminish and die, and Dean will go off the rails, consumed with bloodlust and a desire to kill. The fearsome foursome will be in ruins." Metatron practically skipped over to his chair, and started typing again. "All that's left is to write the epilogue."