Twenty-nine
With Bartholomew dead, and having sent the three angels away, Castiel could focus, once more, on his task of finding Metatron, and getting him to… do something. Perhaps reverse the spell that had kicked the angels out of Heaven. And if that was not possible, then Castiel would make the little rat do something else useful. It had been days since they'd been taken by Bartholomew's men and ended up killing the angel. And since that day, they'd been slowly moving in one direction, stopping only so that Brooke could take care of human needs: food, sleep, bathroom.
There was something out there, calling to Castiel, and he could not stop moving toward it.
"What is it?" Brooke asked, as they drove toward it. She could not, exactly, hear it, herself. But, connected to Castiel as she was, she could sense his need to get to it.
"It's… I'm not sure," he murmured, rubbing his temples. "It's a… sound. I don't know how to explain it."
"Whatever it is, it must be angelic," Brooke mused. "I don't know why else you would hear it, but not me."
"Yes," he said, slowly, dragging the word out. "Angelic… It's… It's familiar, somehow. A… pretty sound. It sounds sort of… like Heaven."
"Like, literal Heaven?"
"Yes… but somehow… it—it also sounds… like you."
Brooke took her eyes off the road for a second to lift an eyebrow at her husband. "What?"
He was shaking his head. "It's… Like I said, it's difficult to explain."
Brooke was glad she was the one driving; she wasn't sure Castiel would have been able to concentrate on anything but the sound right then. And she began to wonder if it was a trap, this sound…
It very well could be, he agreed, readily enough. We should expect… anything.
###
The building they arrived at looked old and abandoned.
Definitely a trap, Brooke said, removing her angel blade from her inside coat pocket. Or something else bad.
They moved cautiously through the building, stepping lightly, sensing for danger somewhere inside the dark interior. As they made their way closer to the source of the sound that Castiel was hearing, Brooke said, There's one angel alive, in there, and pointed through into another room.
Castiel turned, making his way through the door, and caught his trench coat on the corner of a shelf, tearing it. He paused, a flash of annoyance going through him as he looked at the tear, but put it from his mind immediately, and went into the room.
A shiver went down Brooke's spine as she followed him, angel blade in hand. There were dozens of dead angels littering the ground, their burnt-out wings shadowed behind them. There was blood on one wall, and a dead angel slumped against it, hands bloodied; he'd been drawing on the wall before he'd died.
Now that they were in close proximity to whatever was making the noise that Castiel could hear, Brooke could hear it, too—a high-pitched ringing sound that reminded her of Castiel's Grace when he was highly upset, although it wasn't that nerve-wracking. There was a sigil on the far wall of the room, glowing, and it was the source of the sound. Castiel and Brooke cautiously made their way towards it, avoiding stepping on the dead. It stopped glowing or making sound as they approached it, and Brooke could see, then, that it was drawn in blood.
Castiel squinted at it, head tilted to the side, and took out his cellphone to snap a picture of it. Putting the cellphone away again, he stepped right up to the wall and ran his fingers over the sigil. What is it? he asked, though he wasn't really speaking to Brooke.
From behind them, Brooke felt the flare-up of Grace and spun around, knocking an angel's blade out of the woman's hand. Castiel spun, too, staring down at dark-haired woman on her knees.
"Please!" she cried. "Please don't! Don't hurt me." Her right eye was so swollen and bloody that it was closed completely. Actually, the entire right side of her face seemed to be one big gash, blood running in rivulets down the tears in her flesh.
"We're not gonna hurt you," Castiel said. "It's okay." He put out a placating hand and knelt on the floor, Brooke following suit and putting her own blade away so as not to terrify the angel any further.
"What's your name?" Castiel asked her.
"Hannah," she replied, shaking horribly.
"Hannah," he repeated. "W-What happened here?"
Hannah said nothing, breathing unsteadily, her fist shaking badly. She stared up behind Castiel, at the sigil that had, a moment ago, been glowing and calling out.
Cass turned his head and looked up at it, too. "Yeah, I heard it, too," he said. "What was it?"
"I don't know," Hannah replied, shaking her head, crying out of her good eye. "It, uh, it sounded familiar. It sounded like Heaven." She breathed, trying to hold herself together. "It's so strange down here. I, uh… followed the tone, and found so many of my brothers and sisters had, as well. It felt safe here. And then the doors slammed shut and a strange angel arrived. He said he worked for the new God."
"For Metatron?" Castiel asked.
"Mm-hmm. He made us an offer," Hannah explained, wincing in pain from the wound covering half her face. "Join Metatron, fight for him, and those that did would one day be allowed to return to Heaven."
"Return to Heaven," Castiel repeated, disbelieving.
Hannah chuckled, and then groaned in pain. "I didn't believe him, either. But he said he would take us home. Some angels joined him. My friends and I refused, and, uh…" She stopped speaking, staring at the floor, and breathed shakily.
Castiel glanced at Brooke, then looked down at Hannah again. "I'm sorry for your loss," he said, gently. "I'm sorry for all our loss." He reached out with two fingers and pressed them to her forehead, to heal the horrible wound on her face. The act of healing her took a lot out of him, more than Brooke had expected, but he brushed off her concern, standing up and pulling her up with him. He reached out a hand to Hannah and pulled her up, as well.
Hannah smiled at him. "You're Castiel, aren't you?"
Brooke could see that her vessel was quite pretty.
"Yes," he replied.
"You took a stand against Bartholomew," Hannah breathed, as if staring into the face of a celebrity. "Are you going to help us, lead us against Metatron?"
Castiel shook his head, slowly. "I'm no leader," he said.
Brooke reached down and squeezed his hand. "You could be," she murmured. This was the second time that such a responsibility had been asked of him, and the second time that he had refused.
He turned to her. "I am no leader," he repeated, then turned back to Hannah. "But I will find Metatron, and I will make him pay."
"Let me help you," Hannah said, immediately. "Let us help you." Other angels.
He was shaking his head again. "You are safer away from me. Now, this angel who attacked you, what was his name?"
"Gadreel," Hannah said.
Brooke turned and stared at her husband.
###
Back at the motel room they'd had for the past two days, Castiel called Sam and Dean to relay the information to them and send them the picture he'd taken of the symbol drawn on the wall in the abandoned building.
Brooke, for the most part, wasn't adding to the conversation. Castiel had put Sam and Dean on speakerphone so that she could hear them, but she was busy pulling off clothes that stank of must and death.
"Honor Bar…" Castiel murmured, distracted by the sign on the mini fridge. "What's honorable about a miniature bar in a motel room?"
"Everything," Dean replied.
Brooke, from her place by the bed, smiled. She could sense her husband's smile, too, at the sound of Dean making a joke.
"How are you, Dean?" he asked.
"I'm fine, Cass," Dean said, unconvincingly. "How 'bout you?"
"I miss my wings," Castiel replied. "Life on the road… smells."
Brooke snorted.
"I heard that," Dean said. "Brooke, how you doin'?"
"I'm good, Dean," she called, pulling on a different shirt.
The conversation returned to the symbol that she and Castiel had found on the wall, earlier. It seemed to be linked to multiple homicide cases, all in Utah, which was where she and Castiel were. Gadreel had placed them in multiple locations, and his general trajectory was simply north.
"What's the next big town?" Dean asked.
"There are two," Castiel replied, looking at the map he'd pinned the wall the first day they'd gotten there. "Could be Auburn or Ogden."
"All right, you two take Auburn," said Dean. "We'll take Ogden—meet in the middle." They hung up.
Brooke immediately went to her husband and pulled him into a hug. "I'm sorry about your wings," she murmured.
He sighed, but good-naturedly. "Being human for months, I… sort of got used to having to walk or drive everywhere."
"But it's not the same, is it?"
"No," he conceded, resting his chin on top of her head.
"Don't worry," she said, trying to remain light-hearted. "You're still sexy."
"My face," he began, thinking of the way that someone else's Grace pulled at his features so that he looked twisted and ugly.
"Hey, I was in love with Meg," Brooke said, pulling back to look at him, touching that face he hated so much. "And Meg was a demon. Man, you think you're ugly?" She laughed. "I've gotten used to it," she said. "You look kinda… hot, like this. Like… you got some crazy scar on your face from a badass fight with someone."
He shook his head, giving her a lopsided smile. "You think—
"—that you're always hot?" she finished. "Yeah, I do." She laughed again. "Now look at me and say, I'm Batman."
He stared down at her with half-lidded eyes, but said, "No."
"Aww, you're no fun." She took a breath, pulling at the lapels of his trench coat. "Okay, fine. Say… I'm an angel of the Lord."
He rolled his eyes up to the ceiling, smiling.
"Castiel," she said, and grabbed one his hands and bringing in up to her hair. "You dig your fingers into my hair and look at me with those sexy blue eyes and say—
He pulled at her hair, bringing his forehead down to hers and growled, "I'm an angel of the Lord."
She gasped, but put both hands on either side of his face, and said, "Yes. Good. Now you hold onto that feeling. You are strong, and powerful, and good. And worthy of love and respect. And don't you forget it."
He closed his eyes, breathing. "Thank you," he whispered. "I love you."
"I love you too."
They stood that way for a moment, breathing each other in… and then the lights flickered.
Brooke looked up, and around, as they continued to flicker. Ghost? she asked, silently, but felt no cold spots.
After another few seconds, the flickering stopped.
She and Castiel looked at each other, but nothing else weird happened, so they chalked it up to the cheap motel room.
But then, as they were leaving… the lights began to flicker again, and the TV came on by itself.
"Casa Erotica," Brooke said, staring at the TV. "Why does that sound familiar?"
Castiel reached up and tried to turn the TV off, but it wasn't responding to the knobs or buttons. The two of them of them stood side-by-side, watching it play.
In the video, the woman went and opened the door to her room, and there stood…
"Gabriel," Castiel said, sounding surprised.
In the video, Gabriel snapped his fingers, and the TV turned off.
Brooke flinched at the sudden feel of an angel standing behind her. An Archangel. She spun around, reaching automatically for her coat, to grab her angel blade, but she wasn't wearing her coat.
"Hey, whoa, whoa!" Gabriel said, putting his hands up in a surrendering fashion. "I—I need your help, brother," he said, looking at Castiel.
"I thought you were dead," Castiel replied, staring at his brother.
"Please. You can't take the trick out of the trickster." He smiled down at Brooke. "And I see you're still here. I'm impressed. I woulda thought someone in our family woulda killed you by now."
Brooke smiled, cautiously. "Most of them know better."
"So, I assume you faked your own death," Castiel said.
"And I assume you weren't let into Mensa while I was gone." He meandered away from his brother.
"Where have you been?"
"Oh, you know… hither with a side of yon." Gabriel smiled.
Castiel squinted at him.
"I was hiding, Captain Side Eyes, in the safest place in the universe—Heaven. But then you and the other two stooges had to go and ruin Christmas, now, didn't ya?" He leaned on the table in the room, raising his eyebrows at Castiel, then turned his head to do the same to Brooke. "And I assume your lovely wife somehow had a hand in it, also."
"Sorry," Castiel said.
"Oh, cry me a river. Look… I dropped, I hid, I finally watched Downton Abbey. But then your BFF, Metatron, sent his minions out looking for me. Apparently, he thinks, since I'm an Archangel, that I have extra juice."
"And that you're a threat," Castiel said, catching on.
"Yeah. But I got hurt in the fall, too. Used most of my juice to get back into porn."
Brooke made a face.
Gabriel glanced at her. "Oh, come on, sweetheart. You don't think I'm hot?"
Brooke smiled, enjoying Gabriel's banter despite herself. "Unfortunately, I've only got a thing for… gruff, boring, soldierly types."
"I'm boring?" Castiel asked, sounding a little hurt.
She smiled and put a hand on his arm, and was about to answer, but Gabriel interrupted her.
"The point is, I've been on the run. But then, a few weeks ago, somebody started playing my song." He turned away and sat down on the couch.
"The angel siren," Castiel said, stepping toward him.
Gabriel looked confused. "No. The Horn of Gabriel—one of Dad's little party favors that I never got around to messing with. Metatron dug it up and started blowing. So… I came out of hiding."
"Why?" Castiel asked.
"There's safety in numbers. But Metatron was using it to trap angels, not unite them."
"It wasn't Metatron," Castiel said, thinking. "It was his second-in-command—Gadreel."
"Gadreel? That old chestnut? Wow!"
"What do you want from me?" Castiel asked his brother, quietly.
"Your help, Columbo," Gabriel replied, standing up, and approaching him and Brooke. "I'm getting the band back together. We're going on the Kill Metatron tour, and you're looking at the new front man."
###
Brooke had to admit that driving, with Gabriel as company, was pretty entertaining. The Archangel spent the entire car-ride joking and playing around with Castiel. It was the mind of moment that Brooke did not often get to witness. The Winchesters treated Castiel like a brother, but not many angels were ever kind to him, and it was nice to watch this banter. Brooke had a feeling that Gabriel was somehow, secretly, trying to convince Cass to become the leader of the anti-Metatron/Gadreel group, but it was hard to tell.
After some time had passed, and some laughs, Gabriel glanced down at the dashboard and said, "We're a little low on gas, aren't we?"
"Mm," said Castiel, and began looking for a place to turn off the highway.
They found their way to a Gas-n-Sip, and Brooke felt a little ping of nostalgia for the job that her husband had held at one of these. Do you miss it? she asked, silently.
I miss the simplicity of it, he replied, holding the door open for her. I didn't have to worry about… war, or angel factions… All I had to worry about was whether the coffee filters were restocked and the soda fountain was full.
"Ooo, smell that cancer," Gabriel said, interrupting those good thoughts. He breathed deeply, proclaiming, "Delicious!"
Brooke turned and stared at him, then realized he was talking about all the junk food.
A car pulled up outside the Gas-n-Sip, and cheery Gabriel immediately seemed ill at ease. "Uh," he said, approaching Castiel. "Remember the minions of Metatron I mentioned?" he asked, his eyes flicking outside, toward all the people in the truck. When Cass did not immediately turn and look, Gabriel reached up and gripped his face, physically turning his head to look.
"Ohhhh fuck," Brooke said, pulling her angel blade out of her coat.
Gabriel rushed forward and locked the door to the Gas-n-Sip.
"You think that's gonna do anything?" she asked.
He turned to look at her. "You got a better idea?" He sighed. "We're never gonna keep these guys outta here."
"I know," Castiel said, pulling his angel blade out of his sleeve. "So, we fight."
"No," said Gabriel, retrieving his own blade. "I fight." He turned to his brother. "I lied before. I never watched Downton Abbey. I was just trying to fit in. Oh, and I do have some Archangel juice left. I can hold these boneheads off long enough."
"Long enough for what?" Castiel growled, staring out the window at the approaching baddies.
"For you two to get outta here."
"No, I'm not leaving you," Castiel argued, approaching Gabriel.
"Yes, you are," the Archangel said. "Those guys will cut you to ribbons! But I can stall them long enough for you to amscray!" He smiled, then, glancing at Brooke with a raised eyebrow, then turned back to his brother. "And you can take my place."
Brooke knew, then, that she had been right in her assumption—that Gabriel had been trying to trick Castiel into taking the leadership role the whole time.
"What are you…" Castiel began, and then heard Brooke's thoughts. "No," he said, to Gabriel.
"The angels need a leader," Gabriel said, "and it's gotta be somebody like us—somebody different. And you couldn't be more different. You married a human. You… care."
"No," Castiel said, again.
"I know you don't want this burden, Castiel. Neither do I."
Castiel stared out the window, watching the angels approaching the store. "What if I fail again?"
"You are worthy, Castiel," Brooke said, stepping up to her husband. "I've been trying and trying to tell you. You would be a great leader. The best leaders don't want to lead. That's why you would be so great—you're humble. You're good, and kind, and you know how to fight but you only fight when you have to."
Gabriel clutched his shoulder, nodding. "Brooke is right," he said. "And you won't fail. You can't."
Castiel stared at Brooke, then at Gabriel, then he hugged his brother. "Thank you," he said.
"Shut up," Gabriel replied.
Castiel turned away, and—
Brooke fell to her knees, holding her head in pain.
Castiel turned. "Brooke—
She blinked… and sat up… in the bed, back at the motel room. "What in the hell…?" she said, aloud, looking around for her husband. But no one was there. "Fffffffuck," she said, scrambling up out of the bed. There, on the table, sat Castiel's cellphone. Confused, she picked it up and looked at it. Six missed calls from Dean. Running a hand through her hair, she did the only thing she could think of and called Dean.
"Cass?" Dean said, when he answered.
"No. Brooke." She took a shaky breath. "Listen, I don't know what the fuck just happened but… I-I need help. Cass is… missing. I…"
"Okay, okay, just slow down," Dean said. "Just tell me what happened."
Taking another breath, she tried to explain to Dean, as succinctly as possible, what had happened, starting with when Gabriel had shown up, and ending with a minute ago, when she'd woken up, alone, in the bed.
Dean sighed over the phone, trying to take everything in. "Listen, I'm… We captured Gadreel, but we can't leave him here on his own. I'll send Sam your way, okay? He's too close to this thing with Gadreel, and he's not doin' well with the angel here. So… He can help you find Cass."
"R-Right," Brooke said.
"Listen, just sit tight. Take some deep breaths—whatever. Just stay there and wait for Sam."
"Okay," said Brooke, and hung up the phone. She sat on the edge of the bed, her hands in her lap, and twisted her wedding ring around and around on her finger… Castiel, she prayed, if you can hear me, know that the Winchesters and I are gonna help you, wherever you are. I love you.