All characters belong to Cassandra Clare and CW network. I don't own them.
Dean glared at Sam, "It won't work." He muttered. Sam didn't voice his thoughts on the matter. If this didn't work, his and Cas's next option would be Metatron, and he loathed the day when he would need the assistance of that hobbit of a scribe.
"Are you even listening to me?" Dean asked as Sam went about the room drawing blood sigils. "He's dead Sammy." Sam made a show of ignoring Dean and went back to his work. Cas piped up from the corner and Sam had the feeling he was being tag teamed.
"Balthazar is dead Sam." Cas said, looking down. "He is my heavenly brother, I am quite certain that he is dead."
"Yes, yes, angels are all brothers and sisters….wait," Sam paused and smirked at Castiel, "doesn't that make it incest whenever you guys sleep with each other?" Cas opened his mouth to reply then closed it again. Dean nodded at the logic in his brother's theory and raised an eyebrow at their angel friend.
"Well yes, no, technically," Cas pursed his lips and straightened his tie, clearly uncomfortable. "Sam is avoiding the subject at hand."
The tall giant of a man towered over them both. "It will work." He got down on his knees, lit the match, and dropped it into the bowl. "I summon thee Balthazar." Sam leaned over and pressed the play button on his iPod. "And I will smoke you out." 'My heart will go on' filled the room, Celine Dion's voice at full volume. Sam was persistent, and for seven hours, summoning ritual after summoning ritual, the song went on.
After the eighth hour, an angry voice filled the room, "Will you shut off that awful song!" Balthazar stood in the middle of the bunker's dining room, seething. Castiel's eyes were wide and Dean's kept flickering between them.
Sam cut right to the chase, "We need your help." Balthazar glared at him.
"So you torture me for eight hours and then demand my help? You already have an angel who's in love with you. At least the short one anyway." Castiel began to look uncomfortable. "I was doing just fine with a lovely lady, and a gentleman….and three others, when you two monstrosities wrapped in plaid decide to try to lure me in here."
Sam wasn't fazed in the least. "But you're the specialist in inter dimensional travel. We need you to bring some people here. People who are experts with marks. The mark of Cain in particular." Sam tossed him a book and Balthazar raised an eyebrow.
"These ones? The angel worshipers?" Sam nodded. "So that's it, you just assume that they're at my beck and call and I'll bring them right to you?" Sam nodded again. Balthazar rolled his eyes. "Why not? Things have gotten boring around here anyway."