Sophia's Chronicles
Chapter 54: Heaven and Hell, Oh Well
Normal people have normal lives. Normal people wake up in the morning, go to college, get a job and work till retirement. Then they kick back with their life's savings until they die. Normal people live in the normal world. The normal world has stock markets, spoon-fed politics and climate change. The average Joe doesn't concern himself with the agenda behind the news he consumes, let alone the one in his food. To him, things are as they are – journalists are honest, politicians have your best interests in mind and corporations don't try to brainwash you and control you. Such a simple world, isn't it?
"I came in the ring like a dog on a chain and found out that the underbelly is sicker than it seems" – Mike Shinoda, When They Come For Me
It's easier not to think of the underbelly. It's easier not to think about the people behind it all. It becomes even easier when you don't realise that the "people" are not really people – they're inexplicable to the rational mind. They're incomprehensible to any sane person – celestial beings and perverted souls. Behind every door-to-door preacher is Naomi's soldier promising pastors a ticket to Paradise for their flock. Behind every illicit drug deal is Crowley's demon selling literal opiate to the masses. And let's not even start on the commercials that families consume with a side of mind-numbing television programming (literal mind-numbing, with subliminal spells woven in here and there). There's a competition for that in the underbelly of the entertainment industry. Angelic or demonic? Which brand of bullshit would you like today?
The angels say they just want to protect the earth, as is their God-given duty. The demons say they want to turn more humans away from Heaven and to their side of the veil. But it doesn't really matter, does it? The humans were slaves in this grand war between the two sides anyway and they don't even know it. Fortunately, there are some who do. There are the hunters, there are the British Men of Letters and there's Raziel and his team. Raziel was disgusted by the mockery of freedom that humans had. He thought that the end of the apocalypse would have brought forth a new Golden Age – one where the angels could truly advance their own kind and the humans. With Hell at its weakest, they could have easily forced the demons to stand down. But no, Raphael was too concerned with getting revenge on Sophia and restarting the apocalypse. Enter civil war. So much time had been wasted; so many lives and resources had been wasted. Hell had become strong again and he held hope for once that Sophia being its Queen meant that she would keep the demons under control. While this was the case for a short period of time, her grip on authority loosened for reasons unknown to him and then she was gone like the wind, inexplicably and irretrievably, with only intel from Bobby Singer to tell him what she'd been up to in her spare time.
Raziel heaved a long, laboured sigh. Progress was slow and difficult. The Leviathan tablet was in Naomi's hands. Zara was missing. The prophet was being held by Naomi in a safe-house somewhere. The Devil was on the loose. The angels were divided. The humans were being controlled by a plethora of supernatural forces around them. So much was happening at once. There had to be a compromise to it all. There had to be a middle-ground. Just one patch of green grass where he could find victory. A triumph for true, moral principles – virtue, wisdom and freedom. This, he believed, was the righteous path set for them by God. There was a time when he believed that the path towards truth was shaped by truth and he still believed it for the most part. Yet, the past few months had shown him something else. The winners always play dirty. The winners always want control first and foremost – screw principles. Whether it was Raphael, Naomi, Crowley or the global elite, they got to where they were by foregoing any reservations about method. It was the goal that mattered. For the first time, Raziel pondered the same thing. Is this truly the only way? There wasn't any choice left. His cause was a losing cause. No matter what, he knew he couldn't let that happen. He still held onto the vision of a universal enlightenment in which angels and humans could become closer to their truer, spiritual selves. Maybe that would bring God back. Or at least, it would restore a sense of harmony that the angels hadn't had in ages.
How do you fight someone without inciting a war? Raziel wondered, as he took cover behind a building. He peeked around the corner, keeping his eye on his target – a middle-aged man with a significant belly who was handing out pamphlets to a crowd while talking about Jesus. The man had grey hairs peppering his scalp and a loud, bombastic voice. His arms moved about expressively as he reminded everyone of the righteousness of Christ. Raziel wasn't interested in that. Patiently, he watched, invisible to the human eye as he stood among the crowd for hours. This wasn't his preferred method of spending time. He'd much rather be in his office discovering new realms through mathematics or mixing drinks for fun to see how different flavours interacted to produce a new one. But he was trying a new approach. He didn't even tell his loyal friends about what he was up to. He knew they'd protest and question him and as much as he wouldn't have minded that, he really thought of this as a form of experimentation. He was trying something new and seeing what the outcome would be. Based on that, he would refine his method and carry on. It was the only choice he saw to combat Naomi. And with everyone else in the dark about what he was doing, Naomi would have less of a chance of getting ahead of him. After all, wasn't this what Sophia would do? How many times had she kept a secret or two from them for what she thought to be the greater good?
Finally, as the afternoon sun waned, the preacher bought himself a cool bottle of mineral water and retired to the church. Cautiously, Raziel followed the man, keeping his distance in case any of his brothers or sisters spotted him. Surely enough, in a small, unoccupied study room in the church, the preacher met with his Heavenly correspondent, a pastor possessed by an angel. Raziel remained hidden in an adjacent store room, peaking in on their meeting through a grate near the ceiling on the wall connecting the two rooms. As he stood on a chair in the dark room, white bars of light filtered in through the grate from the other room onto his face.
"All went well today, Father," the preacher reported. "I'm sure this Sunday's mass will have a large attendance, God bless."
"That is good to hear, Stan," the angel smiled. Raziel recognised him to be one of Naomi's. And it wasn't any angel either. It was one on her core team – Manakel. "You're doing good work."
The preacher seemed pleased to hear that. "If I may… ask you a question," he put up a finger, eyes lighting up with curiosity.
"Yes?" The angel raised his eyebrows in askance, resting his palms together over his belly.
"Did you really see one, Father? An angel of the Lord?"
The angel grinned serenely, his eyes hovering to the ground before meeting the man's gaze again. "I did."
Raziel could almost see the questions burning in the man's throat. "How did the angel look like? What did he say? Did he perform a miracle?" The eagerness in his light blue eyes bore into the pastor's, seeking some kind of eternal truth in them. Already Raziel could tell that this preacher must have had a rough past – his liver looked like it had suffered from years of alcoholism. No wonder this man was so eager to serve this angel in the guise of a pastor. The recent years of human development had left little in the way of spiritual fulfilment - a flaw the angel would seek to rectify once this feud with Naomi ended.
"I'm simply here to pass on the words of God, son. I cannot describe my experience with the messengers of God because you would not understand them. But take comfort in the fact that you have been chosen for God's mission," the angel placed a reassuring hand on the man's shoulder.
Stan exhaled sharply, contemplating with heavy seriousness the pastor's words as though they were of the highest wisdom. "I see," he nodded. "Thank you, Father."
With that, the preacher took his leave. Like a switch, Manakel's expression flipped to one of contempt. Clearly, he hated being the one on the ground talking to the humans. Naomi's ilk usually despised that sort of thing. The air grew tense with silence as Manakel fumbled with his phone and dialled a number. "It's me," he said into the phone. "Did you get the package?" Some indistinct mumbling came from the other end of the line. "Yes, yes, the delivery has been arranged. We trust you'll fulfil your end of the bargain?" More mumbling. "Good, good. Naomi sends her thanks to the King."
Raziel immediately perked up at the last sentence. The King? The demon king? All sorts of possibilities were running through his head. What business did Naomi have with Crowley? Manakel cut the call, sighing as he rubbed his temples and closed his eyes like he was wary from the day's efforts. A fluttering of wings sounded and suddenly, Manakel found himself at knife-point. "Raziel?" the angel exclaimed, rushing to defend himself but ceasing as soon as the tip of Raziel's blade pressed closer to his throat. "You're not supposed to be here," he pointedly spoke, choosing his words carefully so as to not get his throat slit.
"I'm well aware of that," Raziel replied, keeping his hands steady and his gaze resolute. "Who were you talking to?"
Manakel hesitated. He gulped and spoke with a trembling voice. "You're making a big mistake, Raziel."
"Answer the question," Raziel demanded. Again, Manakel hesitated. Impatient, Raziel swung a fist at him. The angel fell ceremoniously to the ground and before he could recover, Raziel dragged him up and pushed him onto a chair. He grabbed a fistful of the angel's hair and pulled his head back, keeping the knife to his throat again. "Answer the question, or I'll-"
"You'll what?" Manakel challenged, bleeding lip curling into a dastardly smile. "You'll kill me? We both know your kind are pacifist pansies. That's why you need people like Naomi who aren't afraid to use force."
"Let me tell you something, pal," Raziel began, his voice becoming forceful. "Not too long ago, Raphael thought the same thing. Then I had an angel of his, just like you, sitting in a chair, just like this one. But you're right – I don't really approve of torture. It was a tough time, you see, with the pure animosity between Raphael and Sophia and the looming threat of war. So I did what I had to do and the angel sang his tune like a canary." He leaned in close to the angel's ear, lowering his voice to but a whisper. "His name was Nathaniel."
Recognition shot through Manakel. Considering that Naomi had worked for Raphael, it was no surprise that those who'd worked under Naomi would also be acquainted with those who'd worked for Raphael.
"I'm willing to do what I have to do," Raziel said. "So answer me: who were you talking to?"
Manakel's sea blue eyes bore into Raziel's brown ones. The angel's jaw tightened as he considered his response. "Carlos," he spat out reluctantly. "A demon."
That confirmed his suspicion. Naomi was working with Crowley. "What business does Naomi have with Crowley?" Raziel probed.
"I don't know," Manakel replied. Raziel's grip on the angel's head tightened and he groaned in pain. "I don't know! I'm just the middle-man!"
"What delivery were you speaking of?" Manakel remained silent, unwilling to divulge more information. A single, firm exhale escaped Raziel's lips. He didn't have all day. He adjusted his grip on the angel blade. In a swift, sharp move, the blade sliced off the angel's ear, leaving a bleeding hole in its place. Manakel yelled out sharply, emanations of his severed grace causing a cup on a nearby table to fling backwards and shatter against a wall. Raziel wasn't proud of what he did but he told himself that there was something bad going on that he had to stop and that this was the only way to do it. He waited a while for Manakel's heavy panting to stop. "Answer me and this will be less painful."
"Quartum!" Manakel yelled in between wheezes. The pain was becoming unbearable. Nothing in his job description prepared him for torture. Even when he'd been the one to deliver subjects for Naomi's 'treatment', he'd never thought that he would be at the receiving end someday. "Quartum…" He shut his eyes tightly, enduring waves of agony from the side of his head that were so bad that he could barely form sentences.
Raziel recognised the name. It was the name of a plant – a variety that could only be found in Heaven. And it wasn't any ordinary plant. It was an opiate. A particularly strong opiate that could affect even angels. Consumption of such substances in Heaven were forbidden and the knowledge of these substances was kept from spreading. Only a select few angels knew about it, Naomi among them. "What does Naomi want with Quartum?" Raziel asked, his hand remaining on the back of the angel's head.
"I… I…" the angel's eyes drifted back, unable to focus. "I don't know…"
This time, Raziel knew the angel was telling the truth. There was no way he was going to endure more pain. Besides, Manakel probably didn't even know what Quartum was. Need to wrap this up. "Tell me where I can find the delivery," Raziel spoke with a softer voice this time, almost feeling sorry for Manakel.
"The details… are… in the package…" Manakel's voice was strained. "With Carlos…" Raziel noted down the address, leaving the angel to put a trembling finger against the side of his head. "You'd better watch your back, Raziel," Manakel croaked. "Because now they'll be onto you."
"Are you worrying about me now?" Raziel remarked nonchalantly, still staring at the piece of paper while contemplating his next move.
"I mean it. Naomi will end you once she finds me," the angel blurted out, shooting a glare at him.
"She won't know that I was here." Raziel walked over to him, pointing a blade at his chest.
"You fool," the angel huffed in amusement though his grin was stolen by his continuing pain. "She already knows."
"How?" Raziel demanded to know. Manakel managed a chuckle. "How?" he shouted, getting more worked up.
"I guess I could tell you. You'll be dead soon, anyway," Manakel maintained an iron gaze. "She keeps track of all of us. She gets in our heads. Hey, maybe she'll do it to you too. Then you won't be running around sticking your nose where it don't belong."
Raziel scowled. He wanted to pry more answers from Manakel but he'd already been pushing his luck. Soon, Naomi would be here to investigate. Knowing what was necessary, Raziel swung the blade, driving it into Manakel's chest. With a bright flash of light, the angel died, leaving the distinct outline of burnt wings. Standing over the dead angel, Raziel sighed. He wasn't a big fan of taking lives. But he knew better than anyone that it was a harsh necessity of his job. Collecting himself, he took off to find the demon.
In his absence, wings fluttered upon arrival. Her feet treaded carefully on the carpet as she approached her dead employee. Naomi bent down to the ground, her fingers finding an interesting piece of evidence. A severed ear. She picked it up and examined it. Her light blue eyes studied the smooth cut and she let out a short exhale. "It's time for you to go, Raziel."
Strip Club, Los Angeles – 6 November 2011, 8.46pm
Business was booming in the strip club when Raziel entered. He moved cautiously, keeping hidden in the crowd of lust-eyed men. He slipped into a seat at the bar, ordering a drink from the bartender as he kept his eyes out for any demons he could interrogate. "You should keep your eyes on the sugar if you wanna be inconspicuous," a voice next to him said. He turned to see a demon, dressed in a shiny black suit, sitting next to him. "Folks will think it's odd that a man in a place like this isn't drooling over tits."
"I'll worry about myself, thank you very much," Raziel snarked, glancing momentarily at the bare-chested females dancing around poles on a stage in front of him. "You Carlos?"
"That's right," the demon drawled, lips widening into a sly smile. "Didn't think I'd see one of your people around here. Your boss really gets paranoid, huh?"
"You know her," Raziel gave the demon a relenting head-tilt. "But can you blame her for not trusting a group of demons?"
"Ah, there's that angelic condescension that we all know and love," Carlos opened up his arms in a sarcastic welcome. The bartender placed a drink in front of the angel and went on to serve other customers.
Raziel's fingers encircled his drink as he carefully considered his words. One wrong sentence and it could blow his cover. "Do you have an update? How are things looking on your end?" he inquired.
"It's alright. Could be better without all those hunters nosing around in our business," Carlos nodded. "Just give us the signal and we'll make sure they won't be a problem."
"No," Raziel shook his head. At least Naomi had the sense to spare the hunters, he thought. "There's a reason you're not allowed to hurt them." Could it be damage control? A last-resort measure in case the business with Crowley went South?
"Typical," the demon huffed. "But whatever. I'm just glad we have a good deal. This whole… war between angels and demons has been getting old. It's time for us to carve out our own territories, am I right?"
Raziel nodded, showing a supportive smile though he didn't agree at all. At least he was getting something out of this demon. "It's a fair deal too, isn't it? You get our Quartum and we get your…"
"Distribution, my friend," Carlos finished his sentence. "Your stuff will be circulated around the world in no time. As soon as we get the delivery from upstairs."
"Right," Raziel sipped his drink, processing this new information. Heaven supplies the drug and Hell spreads it around to intoxicate the humans. With the human race mentally enslaved to external powers, Heaven and Hell could get their own share of worshippers, ensuring a steady supply of souls to both sides. And Naomi was part of it all. "I'd like to check the package. Make sure the details are correct."
"Sure thing. Finish your drink and meet me downstairs," Carlos patted him on the shoulder as he stood up. He buttoned his jacket and sauntered off.
Having paid for his drink, Raziel went in the general direction of the demon, coming upon a door guarded by two bulky demons. With a nod of approval, they stepped aside, letting him through. Down the stairs he went, entering a room with a brightness that contrasted the dim but glowing lighting of the club upstairs. There, the demon puffed on a cigarette as he gestured towards an opened cardboard box on the table. It was a small package, its dimensions only about a foot on each side. Inside was a small glass vial containing a white powdery substance which Raziel held up in the light. It was a sample of the opiate. Probably to prove that Naomi was keeping her deal. There was also a piece of paper with instructions on it.
Delivery date and time: 8 November 2011, 0300
Location: Assaria, Kansas
Delivery details: One truck containing 300 lbs of Quartum
Comments: Handle glass boxes with care. Store at temperatures no higher than 300F. More will be supplied as necessary after test run in Kansas.
A series of more detailed descriptions about how to store and utilise the drug were also mentioned. Raziel's eyebrows creased as he studied the whole information sheet. He had two days. Two days to find out how exactly Naomi was getting a hold of Quartum and to stop the delivery. That part was straight-forward. What would be difficult was the aftermath. No doubt this mission would draw a lot of attention to him and his followers. Naomi would want to seek revenge. But she was probably on his tail already. That meant he had to work fast.
"Everything alright, Hoss?" Carlos held his cig between two fingers, eyeing the angel with pensive concern.
"Yeah- yes," Raziel answered, snapping out of his thoughts. He placed the items back into the box as they were.
"So I can show this to the King?" he checked.
"Yes, you may," Raziel confirmed.
"Awesome," Carlos grinned. "Can't wait for this shit to go down!" He enthusiastically raised a hand for a high-five. The angel stared blankly at the demon until he dejectedly put his arm down and cleared his throat.
Raziel merely nodded. "If you would be so kind as to show me the back exit," he requested. Stepping out into the cold night, he stood on the damp gravel under the dark sky. 300 lbs of Quartum was a large amount. Naomi would need a large field to grow the plant and then a processing factory to extract it from the plant. It couldn't be done on Earth because the climates weren't right so that eliminated a potentially arduous target of investigation. It had to be somewhere in Heaven. A lot of manpower – or angelpower – was probably needed too. Did all these angels know what they were doing? How many angels would actually approve of using one of Heaven's resources like this? It was such an intricate puzzle and it overwhelmed the Keeper that he only had two days to figure it all out before something truly awful happened.
Wings fluttered behind him. Raziel spun to see two of his brethren with blades in their hands. "Chava? Adiel?" he recognised them. They weren't Naomi's henchmen, though they served Heaven like any other angel.
"Raziel," Chava sighed. She wore a solemn look, like it pained her to be there. "Tell us it isn't true."
"Tell you what isn't true?" Raziel frowned. These were good angels. Why were they here?
"Tell us you didn't slaughter our brother in cold blood," her voice begged him to deny their suspicions.
"Chava, I…" He half-shook his head, unsure of what to tell them. What could he possibly say in that moment to console them? That he was investigating Naomi's shady business? It would be difficult to explain. "Did Naomi send you?"
"Does it matter?" Adiel spoke up. A hint of disbelief and maybe a little disgust was present in his tone. He too appeared worried. "We come asking whether you murdered a fellow angel and you ask if your political rival sent us? You think she would lie for politics, brother?"
Oh, I know it. "No, no, absolutely not," Raziel gulped. The situation was getting tense. He had to keep it from escalating. "Just curious, that's all."
"Naomi told us that you had to be brought in for questioning," Chava informed him. "She didn't say that you did it… but what are we to think, Raziel? Please tell us our suspicions are wrong."
Raziel nodded slowly, raising his hands in surrender. "Who else knows?" he asked as the angels stepped closer.
"I don't think anyone else knows. It would be wrong to accuse someone publicly of such a crime without prior investigation," Adiel stated firmly.
Raziel stepped back and the two angels stopped, surprised by his resistance. He couldn't afford to waste time on this. If he missed the delivery, there would be no telling how far Naomi's plans would reach before he knew exactly what she was planning. "I'm sorry. Chava, Adiel, I'm so sorry. I can't go with you," Raziel pleaded, his eyes begging them to understand.
"What is the meaning of this, Raziel?" Chava grew furious. "If you resist, we will have to use force."
"You are a respected angel," Adiel said, frowning. "Come home and prove your innocence, Keeper," he insisted. The angels approached him again and Raziel took another reluctant step back. Left with no choice, Chava and Adiel drew their swords. Raziel reacted quickly, escaping knife-point with a jab to Adiel's face and a punch to Chava's abdomen. Caught in the spur of the moment, the angels swung their blades. Raziel's blade cut Chava across the cheek while he aimed another punch at her, knocking her away. The clash of metal sounded as his blade met Adiel's and they parried for a short moment. Cuts appeared all over both of them and out of the corner of his eye, Raziel saw Chava charging him with a knife. He quickly dodged out of the way and her blade pierced Adiel, evoking a bright white light as he died.
"Oh God!" she exclaimed, terrified by what she'd done. She watched in horror as Adiel fell to the ground, her blade sticking out of his abdomen. Taking her momentary hesitation as cue, Raziel stabbed her through the chest, leaving her to the same fate.
"I'm so sorry," he whispered as he lay her down gently. He wore a pained expression as he stood over the bodies of his dead siblings. They were just doing their job. Pangs of guilt washed over him like a wave. "I wish it didn't have to be this way…"
Back in Heaven…
Raziel snuck through the maze of buildings, most of which were empty because of the large number of angels who had died in the war. It used to be that there was a place for every angel in Heaven. Slowly, over time, more and more offices and desks grew empty. It started with the angelic rebellion, with the archangels and their misguided followers. Everyone grieved the loss of two of the most important angels in Heaven. Just knowing that their offices, which were situated on the highest floor of the highest building, would be empty forever since had evoked feelings of loss and anguish. If it had affected the common angel that much, Raziel rued to think of what Michael, Raphael and Gabriel must have been through. The Keeper kept out of sight as much as he could, weaving through empty alleys and narrow corridors until he reached the back of the Intelligence department. He needed access to Naomi's office. That's where all the answers were.
Some voices drew closer. Raziel immediately took cover behind the marble edifice. He dared to steal a glance around the corner, retreating back to cover immediately upon recognition of two angels who worked for the very department he wanted to break into. Keeping very still and silent, he listened in on their conversation.
"That's the third angel this year, Heron," one angel whispered pointedly. "That's a pattern."
"Calm down, Jeremiah," Heron urged. "I'm sure it's nothing. Surely, you're being paranoid?"
"I'm not," Jeremiah insisted. "Samandriel isn't the kind of angel who just forgets to check in. Something's wrong."
"Then why haven't you reported it to Naomi?" Heron suggested.
"I… I did," Jeremiah sighed. A short pause punctuated their conversation.
"Then what's the matter? Why do you seem troubled?" Heron probed.
"Because I reported the last two missing angels too. And neither of them have returned," the angel worried. "I know it sounds crazy but… I think something's going on." Heron shook his head dejectedly, unconvinced. "No, listen," Jeremiah placed a hand on his friend's shoulder before he could turn to leave. "Samandriel's our friend. Don't you care about getting him back?"
"Of course I do," Heron frowned. "But what you are suggesting is… is absurd. I'm afraid you've been listening to too many of Marion's stories."
Jeremiah pleaded with his gaze for Heron to give him the benefit of the doubt. Unfortunately, the latter angel couldn't accept the possibility of something suspicious going on in his department. "No, wait, come on," Jeremiah implored but his friend left to get back to his post, leaving him alone to reflect on the problem that no one around him believed was a problem. Having watched this encounter, Raziel saw an opportunity pop up. But really, it could go sideways pretty quickly if Jeremiah was unwilling to cooperate. What would Sophia do? She normally took plenty of risks, didn't she?
Uncertain of the odds, Raziel took a hesitant step into the open, meeting the pensive angel. The angel's head immediately shot up to face this intruder and his eyes widened in shock. "Don't worry," Raziel held his hands up, showing that he was no threat. "I don't mean to harm you."
"You… you heard all that?" Jeremiah stuttered. His gaze darted around, alarmed. "You're not supposed to know about that."
"As the Keeper of Knowledge, is there really anything I'm not supposed to know about?" Raziel calmly stated.
"No… sir," Jeremiah exhaled and his shoulders dropped in relief that he was not transgressing any rule by having this conversation.
"That being said, I'd like to hear more about this… missing angel situation," Raziel too relaxed his posture, taking a cautious step forward.
"R-really?" The angel almost couldn't believe it. But just as soon as he grew hopeful, his eagerness faded. "It-It's probably nothing," Jeremiah shrugged and shook his head despondently. "I'm probably just imagining things."
"Jeremiah, was it?" Raziel extended a comforting hand. "It's alright. You can tell me. I'll believe you."
"It could be nothing, like Heron said," he asserted. "I don't want this to become something big. Naomi's my boss. If she finds out, I could be in trouble."
"If this is like what you say it is, this is a serious matter to be investigated," Raziel tried to convince him. "Whatever the case, the truth must come to light. I'll make sure your name stays in the clear."
Jeremiah had a grave look on his face, like it disturbed him to remember the details. After a brief moment of consideration, he relented. Raziel's reputation and authority in Heaven made him feel like someone trustworthy. "Well, it started after the war ended. We were assigned to Naomi's department – a whole group of us. We were all assigned to different stations on earth and we were to periodically come back to home office for meetings. That's when I noticed that one of us stopped coming for sessions. In her place was another angel who I'd never seen before. Said he was taking Sarah's place. No one questioned it. They just thought it was an executive decision made by Naomi."
"But you didn't think so," Raziel inferred.
"I didn't know what to think. We're soldiers – we're not supposed to think." Raziel suppressed an eye-roll at that one. "But yes, I did suspect that something was off. I tried asking around, see if anyone heard anything. But it was like Sarah just… disappeared. Soon, everyone forgot about it and it was like she never even existed. That's weird, right? We're angels. We don't forget." Raziel noticed how Jeremiah's lower lip quivered. Was this the 'treatment' that Manakel was talking about? The one that allowed Naomi to get in their heads?
"If you don't mind me asking," Raziel interjected politely. "If everyone else forgot, how was it that you remembered?"
"I…" he narrowed his eyes, looking away to recall what happened. Whatever he was seeing, it seemed to puzzle him too. "I don't know. It felt like a weird… uh…" he did a half-scratching motion near his head. "Like an itch. And when I kept thinking about it, it became really clear that something was off."
Raziel nodded intently, listening with utmost curiosity. It seemed so clear now that Naomi was doing a number of sketchy things and he had to do something about it. "So you told Naomi?" The angel nodded. "What did she say?"
"She told me it was good that I cared so much about a team member and that Sarah was in good hands. So I said, 'okay' and moved on. And then it was Marcus' turn." He paused, taking a moment to collect his thoughts and explain what was so weird about this one. "Thing is… Marcus told me that he had something to report. That he had… something to follow up on back home. So I expected he would show up to the meeting. But he didn't. Again, someone else took his place and we all forgot. They did, I mean. I didn't."
"Hm."
"I told Naomi again. And then…" His eyes widened in anguish. The memory worried him.
"Then what?" Raziel asked firmly.
"It was all a blur. I don't even remember! How can I not remember?" Jeremiah let out shallow breaths and he put a hand to his temple. "After trying so hard to remember what I was not supposed to, that was the one part I really could not retrieve, try as I might. And now Samandriel's gone and it was the same." He let out a long, laboured breath. "God, I'm so relieved to get that off my chest."
"You did right in telling me," Raziel reassured him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I will investigate this matter personally, but you can't tell anyone." The angel nodded in acceptance, hope finally filling his irises. "But in return, I do need a favour." Jeremiah perked up, locking eyes with the Keeper in curiosity. "Can you get me into Naomi's office without anyone knowing?"
"Raziel… what you ask of me…"
"Is a bit much, I know. But this is urgent. No one, better than you, understands that something is not right in your department. I need your help to find out what and put an end to it," Raziel pleaded, begging with his eyes for the angel to make the right choice.
They shared a concerned gaze. Though Jeremiah knew the risks of what he had to do, it was Raziel's compassion and willingness to listen that swayed his opinion. He also remembered Castiel's fearlessness in doing what he thought was right in fighting Raphael and realised that it was time he too took a stand to do the right thing.
With Jeremiah's knowledge of everyone's shifts, their path to Naomi's office was unobstructed. Having seen how easy it was to just waltz in without anyone knowing, Raziel was glad that his team had moved their offices from Heaven to earth, where no one knew how to find them. "This is where we must part, sir," Jeremiah said, as they stood outside her door. "I'm afraid I can't go any further."
"I understand. Thank you for your help. When I find out what happened to your friends, I'll let you know," Raziel promised. They shook hands as a sign of good faith and Raziel placed his other hand on the back of Jeremiah's palm.
"Naomi is due to come back from making her rounds in about an hour. Be gone by then," Jeremiah advised, maintaining a troubled gaze with Raziel.
"I will." With that, they parted and Raziel entered the office. His eyes sharpened as they scanned the room for a clue of where to start. He eventually chose the drawers. Rummaging through files upon files, neatly stacked against each other with paper dividers, he found a noteworthy document. A record of angels who worked for her. It had been updated with the changes after the war. "What's this?" Raziel's finger traced a figure that detailed manpower distribution. There was an asterisk that referred to another document which Raziel could not find in the drawers. He inferred that it could be under lock-and-key. But there weren't any locked drawers in the office. He gave the whole place a quick once-over, finding nothing else of immediate importance. Growing impatient with the sense of losing time, he took a step back, staring at the whole office. "I'm missing something…"
His eyes roved over the desk and the shelves and rested on a painting on the wall behind the desk. It seemed so odd to him that there was something of colour in an office with such a bland aesthetic. Naomi didn't seem like the kind of person who had an appreciation of the finer arts. Not many did after a long, slow decline in the angels' spirit when it came to craftsmanship. After the fall, everything was just business, business and more business. Everyone's hands had become so full with guarding the earth. Raziel approached the painting, studying its form more closely. It depicted a river. Then it clicked for him. He recognised the river – it was the one close to Sophia's private office in Heaven, the one God gave her as a present. The one that was burnt down during the rebellion. Nostalgia stung in his chest to think about it. That was where Sophia had trained him and the others to be her apprentices. It was one of the fondest memories he had. To see a house full of such bright memories burnt down and left as nothing more than rubble and debris had hurt him. He had no choice but to bury those feelings when the loyalty of the apprentices came into question. He assumed leadership, swearing to prove to the angels that they would not transgress like their mentor had. That's when Raphael became their supervisor.
But what was the significance of the river? Why did Naomi care? That was when something caught his eye. A faint outline of what appeared to be a door. He wouldn't even have noticed it if he wasn't staring at the wall blankly for a significant amount of time. "A secret door. Of course." His fingers quickly rushed to trace the wall, looking for a switch of some kind. His heart almost did a little jump when his fingers gave way and a 'click' sound was heard. The door now appeared more clearly, shifting open. He took a peek, finding his curiosity getting increasingly piqued. The room had a single chair at the centre but it was no ordinary chair. The first word that came to mind when he saw it was 'torture'. It had straps and a lever to adjust its incline, not to mention the table next to it with all kinds of weird instruments that he was unfamiliar with. On the sides of the room were more shelves and drawers. Ah, that's where the important things must be.
The sound of heels clanking came from outside the door. The door knob turned. In a firm, swift motion, the door swung open and Naomi entered, her sharp gaze glimpsing the office as she sat in the familiar position behind the desk, none the wiser about Raziel's intrusion. She let out a sigh, betraying a mind full of the burdens of being a high-ranking angel. She pulled up a pen and paper, beginning on the day's report. Things went smoothly that day so she could return to the comfort of her office earlier than usual. Well, except for one thing – the missing angel. Remaining deadly silent behind the closed door of the secret room, Raziel listened intently for an opportunity to escape. He didn't want to rummage through the files in the room because he feared that it would make too much noise. A lost opportunity. But as he waited, something far more peculiar happened.
Wings fluttered on the other side of the door. Raziel's forehead creased in anticipation. A visitor?
"Castiel, we have a situation," Naomi's voice sounded clearly through the door. Raziel suppressed a gasp. Castiel's alive? "Samandriel has been captured."
"I thought Samandriel was dead," the strikingly familiar voice of the resurrected angel sounded almost too good to be true. It felt unreal, hearing someone who was supposed to be dead.
"He's been missing, and now we know – Crowley has him," Naomi explained. Crowley? That raised the question of whether Naomi had orchestrated this.
"Where?"
"His distress call cut out before I could pinpoint his exact location, but you will find him and you will bring him home," Naomi ordered. Distress signal… so Naomi didn't have something to do with it? Before Raziel could properly analyse what was going on, the conversation continued.
"Crowley will have warded against angels this time. I'll need help getting in." Again, Castiel's gruff, monotonous voice sounded so unbelievable that it evoked a lot of memories. The Keeper still didn't know how he felt about that. It would require some serious contemplation.
"Take whatever you need. But you will be certain, Castiel, it was your idea to rescue Samandriel, not mine, not Heaven's. Do you understand?" Naomi stated. Though this conversation was inherently revelatory, it raised more questions than it answered. If Naomi suspected Crowley of abducting angels, why would she continue to work with him? Unless… he had leverage. If that was true, it would be truly infuriating that Naomi would keep this all a carefully-guarded secret from those who could help. But to truly understand what was going on, he needed to know what Naomi's relationship with Castiel was. Perhaps he was the one doing her dirty work for her. With everyone thinking him dead, he would be able to do things under the radar for her. Raziel knew what he needed to do next. All he needed was to get out of this room.
Some motel, Geneva, Nebraska – 7 November 2011, 12.34pm
It was early afternoon when Raziel caught Castiel's trail. Couldn't miss that trademark brown trench coat anywhere. He should have known that Castiel would have been so predictable – going straight to the Winchesters for help. At least it saved him time. Precious time – now that Raziel had killed three of his own brothers and sisters as part of this risky mission, no doubt Naomi could use this as fuel for rallying supporters against him. Not to mention the fact that he was likely to face a sentence if anyone found him out. Now that few angels were left, the angels agreed that they should safeguard each other's lives. There was even talk about reopening the nursery and procreation, though that was something that would require more time for the angels to consider. Regardless, the angels were far more protective over their own kind now than ever before. His chest tightened thinking about it. For the shortest moment, Raziel felt guilty. What have I done? They'll hate me for this. Yet, he could not help but think of the amount of information he'd discovered all on his own by bypassing traditional rules of what he should have done. And that was what mattered. They'll hate Naomi more once they find out what she's been up to.
When Raziel found the motel room the boys were staying in, they'd gone off, leaving their notes and materials in the room for him to stumble upon. A single printed article caught the angel's attention. A man's face suffered a severe burn after a bush supposedly exploded. Huh. Raziel frowned in concentration as he picked up the article and read it. Castiel must have thought Samandriel was being tortured. What else would the demon king do to a servant of the Lord? He guessed that Castiel and the Winchesters must be investigating the lead, which meant they would be at the hospital.
With a flap of the wings, Raziel found himself standing in the car park of the hospital. When the brown trench coat came into view, he scrambled to take cover behind a nearby tree. There he was – the resurrected angel. Raziel had so many questions. How long had it been? Why hadn't he returned to Heaven? Why was he working for Naomi? But the mission had to take precedence. If he wanted to find out anything about the Quartum delivery and Naomi's arrangement with Crowley, he needed to lay low. Though he stood far from the Impala, Raziel's fine-tuned ears caught wind of their conversation.
"What was it he said?" Sam began as they walked towards the Impala. "Sol-voch-tay? That mean anything to you, Cas?"
"Yes, it's Enochian," the stoic angel replied in his typical monotonous voice. "It means 'obey'."
"Obey?" Dean gave him a puzzled glare. "Obey what?"
"I don't know. But the amount of pain an angel must be in not just to manifest through shrubbery but to burn – Dean... we have to find him before it's too late," Castiel sounded worried, which only increased Raziel's cynicism. You sound like you care, he thought bitterly. How much did other angels' lives matter to him when he blasted them to death with all those souls? Or when he held Raziel's friends captive to pressure Sophia into standing down? It didn't dawn on him how good of an actor Castiel was until that moment. It was probably how he got the Winchesters to do his dirty work for him all this while. One solemn look on that angel's face and Dean Winchester was ready to roll over and wag his tail.
"Okay. Okay, well, look, a sign like that – Samandriel can't be too far, right? So we'll just start at the bush and work our way out," Dean suggested as he pulled open the door to the driver's seat.
Sam paused, holding the door open as he pondered something. "And look for what? Crowley could have him anywhere."
"Well, if I know Crowley, the place will be swarming with demons, so we'll just drive till we see ugly," Dean stated resolutely. As the boys entered the car, leg-first, Castiel simply stood, like he'd caught a whiff of something that wasn't supposed to be there. The angel perked up, looking around himself. Raziel's heart raced, worrying if the angel had spotted him. But when Castiel turned back to the boys and entered the backseat of the car, Raziel heaved a sigh of relief.
He kept his sights on the shiny black Chevy as he flew, maintaining a safe distance so as to keep from being detected by Cas. One by one, they stopped near various spots around town that looked deserted enough to hide something as sketchy as angel torture. As the afternoon sun bore its heavy rays on the earth, the Impala came to a stop before an abandoned saw mill but this time, something different happened. Castiel was the first to get out, storming off into the overbearing, dilapidated building.
"Wait, Cas," Dean called out, exchanging puzzled looks with Sam as they got out of the car. "Cas!"
The two brothers hurried after their friend, briskly walking into the building. "What's gotten into him?" Sam whispered to his brother. Dean simply shrugged as they followed Castiel. Curious, Raziel set foot on the ground and wandered into the building, sneaking in the cover of towering equipment that had been abandoned to the place.
"Cas! There's no one here," Sam yelled after him. Abruptly, Castiel stopped in a wide opening and turned to face them, eliciting confused expressions.
"Do you- do you see something?" Dean asked, uncertain.
The muscles on Castiel's face tightened as his eyes scanned the area. "Yes," his blue irises came to rest in Raziel's general direction. "We're being followed." Raziel's breath got caught in his throat. He knew that the angel who led a whole army in Heaven must have some intelligence about strategy and reconnaissance, but he didn't expect him to be this good. "You can show yourself now," Castiel ordered. Alarmed, the Winchesters glanced around themselves, seeking out this mysterious stalker.
Seeing as there was no point in hiding, Raziel stepped out into the open. He kept his arms up to gesture that he was no threat but the Winchesters being… well… the Winchesters, they pointed their angel blades at him. "Relax, I have no intention of hurting you," Raziel greeted them.
"You?" Sam frowned. "I recognise you. You helped us fight off those demons in Duluth." Dean seemed to recall this as well so both of them lowered their blades, though they still held them in a cautionary position. Castiel's gaze flickered to Sam in surprise. Then, like a switch flipped on in his head, he brandished his angel blade and stepped forward, putting himself between the Winchesters and Raziel.
"He still serves Sophia," Castiel snarled, resting a flaming gaze on the angel before him.
"I serve Heaven," Raziel stated, returning the intensity of the glare. "Who do you serve, Castiel?"
"I am not answerable to you, Raziel," Castiel replied. "What are you doing here?"
Castiel maintained his threatening vibe, while Raziel simply remained calm, confident in his ability to take on the angel should anything go South. But his priority was getting information, not fighting. He would have to be diplomatic about this. "Same as you. I want to find Samandriel. He is a good angel and must be returned home immediately," Raziel said truthfully. He raised his arms a little more. "I don't want to fight you, brother."
"Then why follow us?" Dean spoke up, now fired up by Castiel's scepticism. Admittedly, he felt a little conflicted about this situation. The unfamiliar angel before him did save their bacon in time, but if their trusted friend was to doubt this angel, then he would be suspicious too. "If you're telling the truth, why hide?"
Raziel exhaled, looking between the three of them as he thought through an answer. He couldn't just spill his suspicions about Castiel. Not after Naomi ordered Castiel to keep it a secret that it was on her order he was here. "Because of this," he finally said. "Your buddy Castiel here wouldn't trust me after what my former mentor did to him. And I don't blame him. I just wanted to save us all the trouble of putting a knife to each other's throats because, if you haven't noticed, Crowley is torturing one of our own and time is of the essence."
"If you care so much, maybe you should just leave it to us," Castiel narrowed his eyes, his voice growing more cynical by the moment.
"Cas," Sam interjected, sensing the rising tensions. "We could have died in Duluth. He saved our lives that day. He deserves the benefit of the doubt."
Dean adjusted his grip on the blade, uncomfortably relenting to Sam's rationale though conflicted by the faith he wanted to have in Castiel. "How about a quid pro quo?" Raziel suggested, locking eyes with Dean. He realised, that if he wanted to make any progress, he would have to convince the older Winchester. After all, it was Dean that Sam looked up to and so it was Dean who made the decisions that Castiel would have to follow if he wanted to remain out of suspicion. "I am aware that Bobby Singer was after some… information… from my team shortly before he passed. I'm willing to give you an hour of my time once we've freed Samandriel from Crowley's clutches."
"You are the Keeper of Knowledge. Why would you be so willing to sell information for the sake of one angel?" Castiel probed. "Is this some kind of trick?"
"I can't guarantee that I will spill Heaven's most guarded secrets," Raziel answered confidently. "But I will tell the humans who saved the world from the apocalypse what they wish to know, because I trust their intentions. Especially if it means stopping Crowley." Again, he eyed Dean, conveying as much sincerity as he could. "You have my word."
"Fine," Dean nodded, sheathing his blade.
"Dean!" Castiel exclaimed.
"You wanna keep standing 'round here?" Dean challenged. "While Crowley picks your friend apart? We can settle this later." Much to Castiel's dismay, Sam relented too, meeting Raziel's gaze with concern. "Raz – I'm gonna call you Raz – can tag along. We could use the back-up. Cas, keep an eye on him."
Reluctantly, Castiel obeyed and the four of them piled into the Impala, with the angels taking the backseat and the Winchesters the front. The drive was uncomfortably quiet, with Castiel stealing glances at Raziel when he wasn't disappointedly staring out the window. The ire emanating from Castiel wasn't lost on Dean, who chose to ignore it for the time-being. Call it instinct, but Dean really didn't get a threatening vibe from Raziel. And his instincts were clear when it came to angels.
"Wow, will you look at that?" Dean pulled up near a derelict building. "Our ninth abandoned factory. Ain't that America? Hey, what do you say, this doesn't pan out, we head back to that beer-and-bacon happy hour about a mile back, huh?"
"Wait a minute, Dean," Cas urged, peering through the gap between the front seats of the car. "Those derelicts, they're demons. I can see their true faces."
"He's right," Raziel agreed. "Not to mention the building appears to be covered in warding."
Sam brandished a pair of binoculars and surveyed the scene before them, noticing the patrolling demons on the balconies, near the windows and around the perimeter. "Crowley's got that many hell monkeys outside, he's got to have at least double inside," Sam remarked.
"Castiel and I can take the demons outside," Raziel offered. Castiel met his gaze and nodded in agreement. "You boys can sneak inside and undo the angelproofing. We'll do the rest."
"Sounds like a plan," Sam announced, and the four exited the vehicle.
Three demons stood around a burn barrel, pretending to be homeless people keeping themselves warm. As a demon departed from the fire to do his rounds, a soft whistle caught his attention. What was that? Intrigued, he walked along the side of the building to investigate. Behind him, the angels snuck behind the other two demons and slit their throats, dropping their bodies with as little noise as possible. Came from around this corner. He turned and froze in his step. Dean Winchester. "Hiya," Dean simply waved. The demon snarled, displaying his obsidian eyes before storming towards the Winchester. Before he knew it, he felt something sharp pierce his back. The heat of death spread throughout him in a painful wave and with a defeated groan and bright flash of light, he died. The demon dropped dead, revealing Sam with a bloody knife. "Well, not my most original work, but..." Dean shrugged.
Sam rummaged the demon's pockets and found the keys, which he tossed over to his brother. While Dean figured out which key opened the door, Castiel instructed Sam on which sigils to disrupt. "So, there are four main points of warding – north, south, east, and west – and four Enochian symbols, like this..." He took out a marker and drew the sigil on Sam's palm. "...that you need to destroy before we can enter."
With that, the boys disappeared into the building, leaving the two angels out in the cold of the darkening evening. "So," Raziel began. "What have you been up to these days?"
Both of their gazes were fixed on the door, awaiting the wave of release signalling that the angel warding was destroyed. "I've been watching over humanity," Castiel responded. "I've been helping out wherever I can."
"Is that all?" Raziel probed, remaining calm as ever. He stood with a palm crossed over the back of his other hand.
Castiel stole a glance at the angel next to him, studying his expression. Raziel didn't appear to be making any jibes, though if he was, Castiel wasn't sure he could tell. "What else could I be doing?" he asked.
"Oh, I don't know," Raziel shrugged. "Returned to Heaven lately?"
"That I have not, brother," Castiel responded solemnly. Raziel noted this – it was an obvious lie, but why did he sound so… sincere? "It wouldn't feel right. Not after what I did."
The guilt sounded so strong in his voice. Raziel returned the despondent expression. There wasn't a muscle on the angel's face that betrayed a lie. That, or Castiel was a much better liar than Raziel thought before. "So this…" he gestured at the building. "This is… redemption?"
"I suppose it is," Castiel nodded, lowering his head as he thought of the amount of work it would take to wash away his sins. In his mind, he had no recollection of ever meeting with Naomi. He thought he was doing everything of his own accord and so his emotions were genuine. This, of course, wasn't obvious to Raziel. Not yet, anyway. "And you? What have you been doing?"
"Heaven hasn't been the same since you left," he explained. "Everyone mourned you. They hoped you would lead them towards a better vision of the future." He turned to Castiel and saw his deepening eyes, which held an untold sorrow. Hell, Raziel was beginning to feel sorry for the guy. He wasn't like Naomi's goons – like Manakel. He looked like he wanted to genuinely do something good. That was always Castiel's problem. Too much heart and trusting the wrong people and using the wrong methods. In another reality, they could have worked well together, Raziel thought. "I'm trying to help our brothers and sisters," he finally said. "I want to shape Heaven's future just like you wanted it. We should serve based on liberty and justice above all."
"That is… reassuring," Castiel's eyes softened, staring back at the high windows of the building. He took a sudden inhale, like he'd snapped out of some daze. A new sense of clarity washed over him and he felt like his old self again for a moment. His eyebrows creased in confusion as he wondered why he had been so hostile to Raziel earlier. He knew that Raziel was one of the good ones, yet he hadn't hesitated to condemn him in front of the Winchesters. If he didn't know any better, he'd say he almost felt… possessed. "You and your team have always championed such values and I think Heaven would do well with you at the helm."
"That's very nice of you to say, but…" Raziel wondered if he should say anything at all. Would it give away his suspicions? He knew he had to tread lightly but he really thought he was onto something here. "But how much good will your absence in Heaven do? There are forces beyond our control and… and I think you could do a lot to help, brother. You just have to decide that you want to."
This time their eyes met. Castiel had questions. Raziel saw it in his eyes. Something had changed. Something I said must have triggered something in him. He wanted to press further. Maybe ease in talk about Naomi. If Castiel was getting a grip over himself despite whatever Naomi must have done to get in his head, he could get something out of the trench-coated angel without resorting to torture. Then they felt it – the release. The warding was undone. Within seconds, they both rushed in, wings flapping at the speed of light.
Heavy breathing sounded to Raziel's right. Castiel heaved as he doubled over in pain. "Cas! Hey, you okay?" Sam rushed over to help the angel.
"It must be the sigils. I'm not at full power," Cas conjectured.
"Highly unlikely," Raziel groaned as he put Castiel's arm around his shoulders to support him, relieving Sam of the effort. He himself felt no change. A deafening, raw scream pierced through the air. Samandriel. What are they doing to you, brother? Another scream. This time, Raziel felt it reverberating in his chest. Time was running short. And something inexplicable was weakening Castiel. Too many mysteries and no time to solve them all.
"Sam, help me muss this crud," Dean ordered, looking up at all the other sigils.
"There's no time," Raziel alerted them. "Samandriel won't last much longer. I'll keep an eye on him." He nodded at Dean, who then proceeded to try the lock on the door. As another one of Samandriel's pained screams reached them, Castiel pushed away from Raziel, covering his ears and shutting his eyes. "Hey, hey," Raziel extended an arm towards him but Castiel seemed unresponsive. The angel groaned under his breath like a whimpering puppy and folded into himself. Raziel exchanged a shocked look with Sam and turned back to Cas, trying to figure out the best way to reach out to him.
"Dean, hurry up, come on!" Sam urged. As Dean struggled with the stubborn lock, Sam and Raziel merely watched in horror as Castiel slowly backed away, cowering with his back to the wall. What's gotten into him? Raziel wondered.
"Alright, Plan B," Dean announced as he took a few steps back.
"We have a Plan B?" Sam watched his brother charge and fling himself against the door. The loud 'thud' caused him to flinch but seeing as they were in a hurry, Sam recovered quickly and began doing the same. Thud after thud, the door seemed to hold its ground, undeterred.
In the mean time, Raziel crouched next to Castiel, attempting to bring him back to reality. "Castiel, what's happening? Are you hurt?" he asked. Castiel's lower lip quivered and his eyes remained permanently widened, fixated on the unmoving door. Was it the torture? Was it the outburst of celestial energy? What could have made him so sensitive to it? Only one possibility remained – the treatment. Whatever Naomi did to him, it was really messing with his mind. "Look at me. I order you to look at me!" Raziel spoke firmly. Little by little, those blue irises shifted and met his brown eyes. "What is your name?"
"C-Castiel," even his voice trembled. At least he remembered his name. This was a start.
"Where are we?" The blue eyes threatened to shift back towards the door but Raziel put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, capturing his attention even if for a short while. "Where are we, Castiel?"
"G-Geneva… Nebraska," he answered.
"Good, good," Raziel nodded. "Who am I?"
Cas was shivering like a wet kitten by this point. Yet he held onto reality as strongly as he could. "R-Raziel," he stuttered.
Raziel nodded, rubbing his shoulder. "Take deep breaths," he suggested. Castiel nodded, feeling control return to his limbs.
"Cas, anytime now," Dean pleaded.
"She really did a number on you, didn't she?" Raziel muttered under his breath, not intending to be heard.
"Who?" Castiel's weary voice drained away into the loud 'crash' of the door finally giving way. A pang of sympathy tugged at Raziel's heart. You're a slave and you don't even know it. Raziel stood, extending a hand towards the fallen angel. Castiel clasped Raziel's hand and pulled himself up. Onward, they marched into the room and the sight before them could shake any angel to the core. There, on a metal chair sat Samandriel. He had an ominous contraption strapped to his head, with clamps sticking out here and there. The poor angel looked absolutely bent, blood pouring out of every facial orifice. What kind of torture is this? While Sam and Dean scuffled with the demon, Raziel and Castiel scrambled to undo the contraption. Just then, another door busted open and more demons entered. That's too many for two humans.
"You take care of this. I'll handle the demons," Raziel offered, as he parted from the torture scene. Within seconds, he engaged the demons, expertly fighting off three at once. Just as another wave of demons threatened to attack them, Raziel quickly glanced at Castiel and observed him removing the brace from Samandriel's head. "Castiel, get him out of here," he ordered and in an instant, the two angels were gone.
A demon punched Sam in the gut, knocking him back against a pillar. Raziel rushed forward, pulling the demon's head back and plunging his angel blade into the demon's back. Together, they fought off the demons, with Sam punching them and knocking them off balance and Raziel blasting them with his grace and stabbing them. Dean was a force to reckon with himself, fending off the demons with the angel blade. Finally, he tackled the demon in a lab coat onto the ground, getting on top of him and holding the demon knife to his throat.
"Wait! I know- I know things!" the demon begged. Dean paused, taking a second to catch his breath. "Good, good. There's so much you don't know. You need me."
Dean nodded, facial muscles tense like he was buying it. "Yeah," he said, and the demon too nodded, hope filling his eyes. "I don't think so," Dean brought down the knife. With a loud groan, the fire of death burnt bright under the demon's skin and he died. Sam and Dean stood in a room full of dead demons, panting. They looked around themselves but they found themselves standing alone, no angel to be seen. "Where'd he go?"
Raziel took cover in the shadows, watching as Castiel stood over a broken and battered Samandriel next to the Impala. He had wanted to ask Samandriel some questions but he thought he'd glean more by simply watching Castiel. His acute ears tuned into the conversation from a distance. "…you- you don't understand. I told Crowley things. Things he shouldn't have known," Samandriel's voice was almost like a cry. He was clearly traumatised and in need of help and rest. Raziel vowed that he would bring Samandriel to Shemsiel, who could help him with his injuries. "He got to our coding, our secrets. Secrets I didn't even know we had!"
"What secrets?" Castiel probed. He frowned as he listened intently, sensing that there was something more important at play here.
"The tablets. Leviathan, Demon and Angel. He knows about them…" The angel's eyes seemed almost watery, even from where Raziel was standing. Raziel sighed, feeling his chest ache for the tortured angel. So that was how Crowley knew. This was a horrible revelation – finding out that one of your own had been the source of a highly-guarded secret being leaked. Yet Raziel couldn't find it in himself to hate Samandriel. How could he? He was being tortured. But the real question was, how did Crowley get his hands on Samandriel in the first place? And was this what happened to the other two missing angels? "And Heaven… Naomi…"
"W-who's Naomi?" Castiel asked. He felt himself getting light-headed – dizzy, even – as his mind circled around the same question. Who's Naomi? Was he supposed to know?
"Who is-" Samandriel exhaled sharply, unable to believe his ears. How could he not know? Every angel in Heaven knew by this point. "Listen to me closely," his voice grew serious. "I found out about them. Naomi – she's controlling us. She and Crowley… they're doing something. I don't know what but we're not safe. Somehow they knew that I knew and…" Samandriel gulped, painfully recalling what happened. Castiel himself seemed to be heaving deeper breaths, like he was having another attack of whatever overcame him earlier. Raziel's heart threatened to jump out of his chest as he listened closely. This was it. He was finally getting closer to what was happening. Samandriel was a witness. His testimony could expose Naomi's illicit activities in front of the Heavenly Host. Then she would face justice once and for all. "Somehow they found me out, like the others, like- like S-Sarah and- and…"
In that moment, moonlight glinted off something shiny in Castiel's arm. It all happened so fast. His arm jerked and suddenly, the blade was impaled through Samandriel's abdomen. Raziel froze where he stood, unsure of what he just witnessed. His heartbeat rose to a crescendo, rooted by the cold reality that he'd just watched Castiel stab the one angel who could have brought Naomi down. For a moment, his mind went blank, not yet accepting the scene before him. But happen, it did. Was that him, or Naomi? The idea that any angel could control the actions of another simply by messing with their heads was… was a frightening possibility. And a very real possibility from what he'd seen over the past 24 hours. The pattering of footsteps in the distance snapped him out of his thoughts. The Winchesters. He had to warn them somehow.
Spotting Castiel with a bloody blade and a dead Samandriel, Sam and Dean rushed towards them, shocked. "Cas! What the hell happened?" Sam inquired.
"He was compromised," Castiel stood up, his movements robotic. "He came at me. I killed him in self-defence."
"Cas, you okay?" Dean eyed his friend worriedly. A single rivulet of blood leaked from Castiel's right eye. That was never a good sign, Raziel thought. He must be trying so hard to fight the programming. Would this be the fate of his brothers and sisters if Naomi gained control of Heaven? What of Earth then, with all the Quartum and subliminal spell-work?
"My vessel must have been damaged in the melee. I have to go. Samandriel's remains belong in Heaven," Castiel bent down, putting Samandriel's arm over his shoulder to carry him.
"Wait, where's Raziel?" Sam looked around them.
"He must have gone back to Heaven," Castiel posited as he stood up, supporting the weight of the dead angel.
"Cas, wait," Dean implored.
"Thank you both, for everything you've done," he said. His eyes looked eerily blank, like he wasn't present in the mind though his body was there. With that, Raziel watched as Castiel flew upwards.
"Cas!" Dean called out after him in vain.
"We need to talk," the boys jumped at the sound of Raziel's voice.
"Where the hell did you go?" Sam frowned at the angel.
"I saw everything," Raziel answered, cutting off any further questions from them. He had a grave expression on his face as his eyes turned to them. "You have one hour of my time, as per our agreement. And there are things you want to know."
"What, right now?" Dean exchanged puzzled looks with his brother.
"No time like the present," Raziel gave them a half-tilt of the head. "That, and I need to ask a favour." The boys didn't look too thrilled about that. "Trust me, you'll want in once you hear what I have to say."
A/N:
Hello again! I know I haven't been uploading regularly and it's because of school stuff. Life just moves so fast in college. But not to worry, I've been writing in those precious few moments of spare time I get and I have a lot of exciting things planned! So how did you guys like seeing things from Raziel's perspective? He is an angel desperately trying to do the right thing and abide by Sophia's rules, yet his recent change in behaviour seems to reflect something far darker. How will this fare for him? We'll find out soon.
