Chapter Twelve

Belladonna

December 13, 2009

Dean slammed the door to the house open and made his way to the fridge. He grabbed a beer, slamming the fridge door shut, and popping the cap off before downing half of it in a moment.

"Dean-"

"Don't even start, Sam."

Dean snapped at his brother and Sam frowned but remained silent for several moments. He didn't want to hear how he'd overreacted, or how he'd let Crowley's words get to him. Sam opened his mouth but was cut off by Dean's phone ringing and he sighed in relief as he flipped it open.

"This is Dean."

"Why the hell haven't you updated us, Winchester?"

Dean winced at the furious voice and held the phone slightly away from his ear at the yelling. There was nothing more terrifying than a Harvelle woman, and Ellen made Jo look like a puppy.

"Well, things have gotten complicated. It wasn't on purpose, I swear."

His pleading fell on deaf ears as Ellen steamrolled on, "Where the hell is Singer? I've been calling him all damn morning."

"Uh, think he's out front talking with Rowen. We just got done watching two angels willingly beat the shit out of each other."

There were several seconds of silence, and Dean preemptively pulled the phone away from his ear.

"What the fuck is going on there?"

Dean saw Sam wince at the shouting, and looked at his brother pleadingly. Sam held up his hands and mouthed 'hell no' and Dean groaned.

"Ellen, it's a long story. Remember the job Jo helped us on?"

"The one with that smug ass demon?"

"Yeah, that one," Dean paused when Ellen hummed prompting him to go on, "Well, he was in contact with an archangel who was willin' to help us. She's a bit of an Alpha Bitch, and basically put us in the corner as far as fighting Lucifer goes."

"Need me to come there?"

Dean smiled weakly at the offer and knew Ellen would chew Azrial out even though the archangel could tear the woman to shreds.

"Nah, she's got Crowley backing her up and while I doubt," he paused and considered for a moment, "yeah, while I doubt Azrial would do more than laugh Crowley may actually try and kill ya."

"That's a mess. Still, should we head out there to back ya'll up?"

Dean was silent for several moments. He didn't want the Harvelle's anywhere near this. The thought of something happening to Jo or Ellen left him feeling dead inside. It was bad enough they'd lost the Road House, he didn't want them to lose their lives due to helping them.

"Nah. I think we've got this shit show handled."

Dean tried to keep his voice neutral but Ellen must have picked up on his emotions because she asked, "What's bugging you, Dean? You're too calm for everything going on."

Dean shut his eyes and considered his next words carefully. He took a swig of his beer and tried to downplay how he was feeling.

"Azrial knew Cas, like raised him and trained him, knew Cas."

"Oh? That's gotta be an interesting dynamic."

"She's barely given him the time of day and just beat the ever-living shit out of him and claimed it was training."

There were several seconds of silence, Dean almost wished he could see Ellen's face. He looked at Sam and saw his brother had sat down looking at him expectantly. It seemed Sam had wanted to have this conversation, and this was a decent substitute.

"Was she in the same shape when the fight ended?"

Dean frowned, "Well yeah. Both had broken bones, cuts, and bruises. It was a mess."

"Then did she really 'beat the shit out of him' or were they training like you and your brother sometimes do?"

The question brought Dean up short and he snapped, "Sam and I have never broken each other's bones."

"And how long did those broken bones last, Dean?"

"Dunno, a few minutes?"

Dean's jaw snapped shut when he heard Ellen laugh, and the woman finally answered. "Then what the hell's the problem, Dean? I know Castiel is family, but he's gotten worse on hunts."

"She almost killed him a few times!"

"And you haven't almost seriously hurt Sam? Come on Dean, you're being irrational."

Dean growled, and was ready to yell when Ellen cut him off with a hard voice, "Don't you take that tone with me, Winchester. You're looking at this from a human perspective, and whether you like it or not, Castiel isn't human."

"Why do people keep saying that! I know Cas isn't human, but-"

"There are no buts, Dean. Castiel isn't human, stop trying to force human restrictions and habits on a damn angel."

Dean froze at the snapped statement, and he didn't respond for several seconds. Was he applying his own ideas of what was acceptable to Cas? Fuck Azrial, honestly, he could care less what the bitch thought of him, but Cas? Had he pushed too far and somehow offended his friend, his family, by trying to reason out his actions?

"Dean?"

Ellen's concerned voice made Dean shake his head.

"Damnit. I think I fucked up."

"It happens, Dean. I doubt Castiel will give you too much flak, especially when his siblings have been dicks thus far."

"She's a bitch, Ellen. An ice-cold 'I'll freeze your nuts off' bitch."

Ellen snorted at Dean's annoyed huff, "I offered to come out there, Dean. I still can."

The genuine offer made Dean consider it, but he knew if Ellen and Jo came out they'd insist on helping them with anything that came up. They were safer where they were.

"Nah. Bobby's been pretty good at keeping the peace, and when he fails Rowen picks up the slack."

"Alright. Tell Singer to call me, ya hear?"

"Course. Talk to you later, Ellen."

Dean hung up the phone with a sigh, and before Sam could speak, Rowen came in looking like someone had verbally ripped his head off.

"You okay, man?"

Dean posed the question, and Rowen smiled. It didn't reach the exorcist's eyes and Dean wondered what had happened after he stormed off.

"I'm fine. Would you boys like to learn how to make holy bullets?"

Dean knew a change of subject when he heard one, but what hunter in their right mind would turn down that knowledge?

"Hell yeah!"

Dean grinned back as he took a seat at the kitchen table, and Sam seemed to think the change was worth dropping the previous subject as well. Rowen began explaining the method, but even then Dean found his thoughts wandering to Castiel. He hoped he hadn't put his foot in it too badly.

Line Break

Bobby entered the house an hour later to hear Rowen patiently explaining the difference between holy bullets and the bullets the Colt used. Bobby sighed, and knew he had to apologize to the man. He'd lost his temper at Rowen when he was far from the reason he was upset. He was about to enter the kitchen when the sound of feathers filled the kitchen.

"Cas? What the hell are you wearing?"

Bobby walked into the kitchen and understood Sam's surprise. The angel was decked out in a pair of loose-fitting jeans not unlike what Sam and Dean wore. He was wearing a loose blue t-shirt with a simple flannel shirt and was shifting uncomfortably.

"Azrial said this outfit would be easier to fight in. I couldn't find fault in her words considering you all dress like this."

Castiel sounded unsure, and Bobby frowned. He really didn't trust that archangel, but she had just made a rather obvious request: take care of my brother, he's one of you now.

Castiel wasn't dressed like her. The archangel seemed to wear black as if she were constantly in mourning, sometimes changing it up with a patterned shirt. She also always looked impeccable, where Castiel seemed like he'd just got off a hunt with mussed hair and still dirty hands. He looked like a hunter, and Bobby prayed Azrial wasn't trying to play games.

"Well, gotta admit you're looking good Cas."

Dean sounded amused and gestured to the angel to come sit with them. Castiel's hesitance seemed to melt away and he walked over to sit between Sam and Dean. Bobby entered the kitchen and Rowen looked up at him. Bobby tried to convey that he was fine, and the man nodded and Bobby fell into the seat next to the exorcist. Dean asked the question on Bobby's mind.

"So, Cas, when are you heading out?

"Thursday night. We're set to meet at our checkpoint at eight in the evening, though Azrial requested for me to spend some time with her tonight."

"Still can't believe we ain't going."

Dean sighed, and Bobby saw a strange look pass over Castiel's face. The angel tugged at the flannel shirt and seemed deep in thought as if he was trying to riddle out the secret to life.

"Dean."

Castiel's voice was quiet, and it had the effect of making Sam and Rowen looked toward the angel as well. Bobby wondered about his hesitance as Dean asked, "Yeah, man?"

"You shouldn't be in Carthage, Missouri at 8 on Thursday."

Bobby stared at the angel in shock, and no one else was doing much better. Dean struggled for words, and simply asked, "What?"

Castiel straightened and grabbed Dean's shoulder looking him dead in the eyes making it clear he had to listen.

"On Thursday, you shouldn't be in Carthage, Missouri at 8 in the evening. It would be even worse if you had a way to take down Crowley if he turns on us. Do you understand, Dean? Don't come."

With that Castiel stood up and eyed Sam and Dean with a guarded look, and then turned his eyes to him. Bobby could see the pleading in his blue eyes and knew what the angel was asking: Don't let Azrial know how you found out. Bobby nodded, and Castiel left the room to let them talk amongst themselves, and likely so he could have deniability about anything they planned. Dean stared after the angel like he'd just been given the winning lotto numbers. The information sunk in and Dean's smile was downright predatory.

"We have work to do."

Those words spurred them all into action, and the four of them started planning for the fight they'd initially been banned from.

Line Break

Rowen sighed as he rubbed his eyes. Sam, Dean, and Bobby had gone out on a supply run with Castiel in tow. Since Azrial was supposed to come here and get the younger angel when she wanted him for their meeting, Castiel had been helping them prepare ammo and never saying a word. It took guts to do what he did, and Rowen just hoped the older angel wouldn't come down too hard on Castiel when all was said and done. It seemed that if Crowley wasn't in the picture Castiel never would have given them the location, but the demon's presence put the angel on edge. Rowen couldn't blame Castiel, he'd disobey in a situation like that as well.

"I see Castiel isn't here."

The soft female voice had Rowen jumping to his feet and pulling his Magnum without thought. Azrial raised an eyebrow at the weapon leveled at her chest.

"Is that how you always greet a woman, Anderson?"

Her voice carried a coy tone and Rowen scowled as he holstered the gun once more.

"Perhaps if you didn't sneak up on everyone you'd get a warmer welcome."

With his snapped comment, he picked his bible back up and continued to page through it ignoring the archangel. It was hard to focus on the words though with her presence. She smelled like poison, Belladonna perhaps? Maybe something more deadly. Yet sweet, like so many poisons that could send you to an early grave. It set him on edge and that said nothing about her power. He heard her move and pick something up with a small hum.

"I haven't seen this face in a long time."

Rowen's eyes shot up to look at the archangel. For the first time, he noticed she was wearing a dark blue long sleeve dress that cut off at her knees, but that mattered little to him. His eyes shot to the photo in her hand and he dropped his bible to snatch it back.

"Can you not be in everyone's business?"

Rowen couldn't keep the annoyance out of his voice as he slipped the photo back into his bible. Then her comment brought him up short, and his eyes narrowed on the nonplussed archangel.

"Wait, you recognize her?"

No, Rowen thought tiredly, you promised you wouldn't ask about her. Another part of him countered that he hadn't until she'd already brought it up, and Rowen realized he couldn't stop himself.

"Of course," Azrial answered.

Rowen hesitated and pulled the photo back out, and handed it to Azrial. The archangel took it staring down at the woman with a neutral expression.

"Do you know what happened to her? To Lily?"

He finally asked the question, and Rowen wondered if he had made a horrible choice at the way Azrial snorted. She set the photo of the women in a simple white dress back on the table.

"I do. She was one of the many reapers who reported to me after all."

Rowen felt his mouth go dry and stared at the archangel. He couldn't find the words to ask Azrial anything. The archangel leaned forward so her bright eyes were staring into him once more.

"Surprised, Anderson? That the woman you married was actually a reaper?"

It was that same feeling of being looked through that he'd had when they'd first met, and Rowen hated it. There was something about Azrial that was more unsettling than any demon he'd ever encountered. Was it because she was so closely linked with death? He never considered himself afraid of dying, but in front of Azrial, he second-guessed himself.

"How?"

He finally posed the question, and Azrial hummed and once more backed away from him. His eyes fell to the photo of the dark-haired, blue-grey eyed beauty in the photo. He should be angry, but all he could find were questions.

"Do I look like I know, or care, how you stole one of my reaper's heart and convinced her to marry you?"

The boredom and mild annoyance were clear in her voice. Rowen couldn't fault that question, so he tried again.

"You said was, then is she-"

"She died in 1986. Shame really, she was a good reaper if nothing else."

Rowen stared at the emotionless archangel and tried to comprehend what she'd said. Her words put an end to 25 years of wondering with little care to his emotions. Lily had been dead twenty-three years, and he'd never known.

"Why can't I remember her? How did she die? Why can't I-"

"Wow, slow down there tiger. One question at a time."

Azrial sounded slightly amused at his rambled questions, and Rowen's mouth snapped shut as he realized what he'd been doing. He frowned at how quickly he'd dived into the topic, but it was too late now.

"How did she die?"

That was the most important question to him right now. He needed closure on this topic so he could fully seal it in his past.

"From what I understand, she was killed on an errand for a demon."

Ice crept up Rowen's spine and he stared at Azrial in shock.

"Why the hell would she be working with a demon?"

"Well, that has to do with why you don't remember her. Apparently, your handsome self died back in '83, and she just couldn't bring herself to reap you."

There was a soft mocking tone to her voice, and Rowen glared at Azrial. Why was she so damn uncaring? Rowen pushed his annoyance at her aside and pushed forward.

"I died? I don't remember that. How did it happen?"

"I'll give you three guesses how the Vatican's most skilled exorcist was killed, the first two don't count."

Rowen shut his eyes with an aggravated sigh, "A demon."

"Ding, ding, we have a winner!"

Rowen opened his eyes and looked at her smiling face, but he noticed it didn't reach her eyes. If anything her eyes reflected a deep annoyance at the topic. That made sense considering she'd lost a worker by the time all was said and done.

"Why involve a demon then? She could just choose to let me live."

"Oh, honey, it doesn't work like that. Only three people can make that call and she wasn't one of them. So she did the only thing she could do, brokered a deal and you walked away none the wiser."

Rowen was silent for several moments and tried to consider what to say next.

"That doesn't make sense. Reapers don't have souls, do they?"

"No, but they can provide services. There are few demons that would pass up the opportunity to have a seasoned reaper on payroll."

Rowen felt a wave of disgust wash over him at the glib way Azrial explained the situation. Did she have no sympathy for the reaper who'd died? Or perhaps Rowen was putting too much of himself into this. The wave of guilt at the realization that the smiling woman in the photo hadn't abandoned him, but rather died for him was hard to stomach. He'd given up on finding out about her, and it turned out she'd given her life for his. Had he failed himself, failed God? Was this a test that he'd fallen short on?

"You're overthinking this."

Rowen was startled by the easy way Azrial spoke, and he stared at her for a few seconds.

"Can you read minds among all the other things you can do?"

"I can, but I'm not. Your face gives you away, Anderson. You're a bleeding heart."

"You say that like it's a bad thing. I thought angels had some capacity to love?"

Azrial laughed, a sharp loud sound that made Rowen wonder if she could laugh normally.

"Sometimes I ask myself the same thing."

Her voice had taken on a strange tone. Suddenly all the mocking and holier than thou attitude dissipated, and for a moment Rowen could pretend she was simply a jaded hunter. Someone who'd lost everything to the supernatural and was far too tired to deal with the oncoming apocalypse. Rowen even made out a deep sadness in her eyes and felt compelled to say something. Somehow he preferred her acting like a bitch than appearing far too close to human for his comfort.

"Well, I'm sure being around a demon constantly doesn't help answer that question."

He expected her to get mad, but instead, she laughed. Not the sharp laughs or cold sounds he came to associate with her. It was light, it lit up her whole face and for a moment Rowen could understand why angels were sometimes documented as beautiful.

Like glass though, the moment shattered as a heavy demonic aura entered the room. Azrial's eyes seemed to spark to life as she turned to Crowley who spoke coolly.

"We're running late, Azrial."

"Well then, we should get going. It was nice speaking to you, Anderson."

The archangel stood up and walked toward Crowley who was glaring at him, and as if to spite him the demon grabbed the archangel and the two vanished from sight. Azrial hadn't tried to brush Crowley's arm away, or even snap at him for the manhandling. Rowen's mood soured and he firmly reminded himself:

It could be the most beautiful flower in the world, but it wouldn't make it any less poisonous, and that's what Azrial was.

Belladonna given human form.