Ch. 23

Black Smoke

Avery was sitting on a stool in the garage by the Impala with a heavy red toolbox on her lap as she watched Dean tune up the engine before they left for Leiper's. There was a real sense of everyone dragging their heels despite the urgency to act. No one really wanted to confront Abaddon, especially while only having the bluff as a plan. But it had to be done and if the brothers didn't go, then Avery would leave without them one way or another.

Sam was somewhere in the bunker grabbing last-minute supplies and finishing the final touches to the blade while Avery watched an engine oil smudged Dean strain as he tightened something under the hood with the wrench she's just handed him.

His sleeves were rolled up and the Mark of Cain pulled and stretched over his muscular forearm. She couldn't take her eyes off it. She never could when it was exposed like that. It seemed to draw her gaze and pin her attention no matter how hard she tried to ignore it.

Dean pulled himself away from the engine and yanked a dirty cloth from on top of the hood to wipe his hands. He picked up the wrench and tossed it carelessly over to Avery who caught it without flinching despite her far away gaze.

Dean noticed how distracted she looked and he snapped at her a couple of times.

"Hey, tinker bell. Get your head out of the clouds."

Tinker Bell, Avery mused, that's new. Or maybe it isn't. She frowned and gently put the wrench back in the toolbox.

"What's on your mind?" Dean pressed as he knocked the stand down and closed the hood.

Avery looked at him for a moment debating whether or not to sate her curiosity. What she wanted to do was incredibly forward and perhaps inappropriate but the urge was difficult to quash. She finally decided and with a light hop off the stool, she set down the toolbox and approached Dean hesitantly.

"Can I…?" Her hand reached out to touch the mark and just barely skimmed it before he flinched away.

"What are you doing?" Dean demanded. Avery's hand hovered in midair and she stared at him waiting for permission or rejection.

He didn't speak so Avery let her arm fall before shaking her head, "I don't know." She admitted.

"Forget it." Avery stuffed her hands in her pocket to try and mitigate her temptation but Dean stopped her.

"Wait," He offered his arm tentatively and Avery blinked in surprise before walking back and tracing the mark with her fingertips. She and Dean both shivered and her eyes snapped up to check his reaction. His eyes were wide with the same question that was on her lips.

"Did you feel that?"

"The anger?" He asked and Avery cocked her head, That's odd.

"No. I mean, yes, but I meant… the heaviness. The... despair."

"No. I don't."

She looked back down and traced the mark again, "Does it glow? When you're pissed off?"

Dean, again, was surprised. "How did you know that?"

"I'm Avery," She speculated, "I guess I've always known that. I mean, I must have known at some point."

Her eyes met Dean's and her hand still rested over the mark. Dean's gaze traced her face, eyes darting back and forth as they rested on her cheeks, nose, and finally mouth which had parted ever so slightly.

The door flew open and the two leapt apart as Sam entered the garage noisily. His head was down as he rummaged through a duffel bag and he didn't seem to have noticed how quickly his brother and Avery had separated.

"Y'all ready?" Sam asked as he tossed the duffel into the trunk of the Impala. Dean nodded and Avery smiled stiffly. Sam looked at them for the first time since entering the room and cocked his head for a moment when he noticed how awkwardly the two were standing apart. If he was going to say anything, Avery guessed he'd decided against it because he nodded and climbed into the passenger seat.

The ride back to Leiper's was tense. Avery kept spinning the mock blade in her hands and examining it like she was checking for inaccuracies even though she had no memory, outside of the drawings she'd consulted, of what the real blade looked like.

They'd left early in the morning but the drive back would still take all day. By the time they'd arrived in Leiper's Fork the sun had already sunk halfway down the horizon. They were tired and cranky from driving almost thirteen hours straight but they'd made good time.

They met Castiel there. He stood in the park Avery used to spend her time reading in. His body held stiffly but still as if were made of marble. Avery didn't know what to say to the angel. It was still hard to believe that he existed at all. He spoke little but stared at her enough to make her uneasy. After a moment he fluttered away to search for signs of Tom. They'd agreed that if she couldn't find him then Castiel might have better luck.

It had only been a week and a half since Avery had last been there but the town seemed foreign to her. Leiper's was a sleepy town by virtue but now it seemed deserted. The grill's lights weren't on despite the hour and the streets were empty. It should have been busy at this time of night, everyone leaving work to come in for a beer or a burger but there didn't seem to be anyone around. Tom wouldn't be in the town limits, what with there being no place to hide a man and torture him, but he had to be close.

After meeting with Castiel they decided to stop by Avery's — Ally's apartment to regroup and see if she could use their connection to make contact and maybe find out where he was. Dean wanted a sandwich and Sam wanted to connect to the wifi so it worked out for everyone. Avery was pleased to see her cat, Jim, had fared all right in her absence. The automatic feeder had sustained her while Avery had been… away.

"So," Dean said around a mouthful of rye and swiss cheese, "you mind-meld with Slater yet?"

Avery opened one eye from her place on the sitting room floor. She'd laid out a mat and crossed her legs in a cheap man's version of the lotus position to meditate in the hope of communicating with her captured… friend? Lover? Kidnapper? Whatever. There wasn't time to dissect their relationship when he was being flayed like freshly caught game.

"Don't rush her," Sam said from his stool at her island, blue light from his computer screen throwing his sharp-angled face into relief. Jim weaved through his long legs and mewled reproachfully when Sam didn't give him any attention.

Avery sighed, uncrossed her legs, and pulled her knees up to her chin. "I don't understand. Back at the bunker, I couldn't even take a piss without that cunt sending me a mind probe about how fucked Tom was getting."

She suddenly sat up and looked straight at Dean, "You don't think he's dead, is he?"

Dean stopped chewing the massive bite he'd taken and swallowed hard, "Uh…"

Sam looked up to reassure her, "No way. Tom's the only leverage she's got on you. She wouldn't kill him after a week. Especially if she thinks we've got you."

"So what, we just wait?" Avery asked and Dean shrugged.

"Got any loose ends you wanna tie-up? Stuff to pack, people to say goodbye to?"

Avery frowned, "What do you mean?"

Dean shrugged and set down his sandwich, "Don't you want to say goodbye before you leave here for good?"

Avery blinked at him and then looked away uneasily. Dean blanched his mouth popping open in a surprised 'o'.

"You're not coming back with us after this."

Sam sighed, "You can't stay here, you know?"

Avery stood up and turned to look out her living room window, "I actually hadn't given it that much thought. When I get my memories back— If I get my memories back, I imagine I'll want different things."

Dean dropped his half-finished sandwich back on his plate. He no longer felt hungry. Avery saw his changed demeanor and grimaced, "I'm sorry."

Dean shook his head, "Why are you sorry? You've got nothing to be sorry for." He smiled carelessly at her and Avery frowned at the easy acceptance. She hadn't known Dean long, or rather she hadn't known Dean long since losing all her memories, but it felt too easy. She'd expected more of a fight.

It looked like Sam had expected more of a fight as well because he glared at his brother with annoyed pinched features. Dean ignored both their reactions.

"You sure you're not getting any vibes from Slater?"

Avery pressed her lips together, "We'd all know if I had."

Avery considered Dean's earlier offer to say her goodbyes to the folks she'd gotten to know in Leiper's. She'd miss Steve and his ex-Mormon guilt, Laura and her blunt and forward personality. Jeff and Erica had become her de facto parents in the absence of her real father and mother who had always been too preoccupied with their failing relationship to raise either of their children let alone provide the guidance Jeff and Erica had offered.

These people had become her family. She knew she couldn't stay. The blade they had was a fake and even if they survived the encounter with Abaddon, even if she bought their bluff, she couldn't stay in Leiper's only to have her come back and endanger herself and everyone else she was close to.

Dean's phone buzzed and he glanced at the caller ID before answering.

"Crowley."

Sam looked up in shock and Avery watched them with a confused frown.

"Squirrel," Crowley purred on the other end. "You wouldn't believe what I just found."

Dean gaped, "You didn't."

"Oh, I did. But I've hit a bit of a snag, darling. I'll need one of you to come fetch the blade for me. Demon warding, you know, always puts a damper on the fun."

Sam stood to be next to his brother, "He found the blade?"

Dean nodded absently, "Send me an address, Crowley. We'll be there as soon as we can."

"Do hurry, I don't like to be kept waiting."

The line went dead and Dean smiled at his brother and Avery deliriously.

"Shit just got a whole lot easier."

"We can't leave!" Avery insisted. "What if Tom calls! I need to be here. I can't leave him to Abaddon."

"We'll come back," Dean huffed. "This way we'll actually be armed instead of showing up empty-handed."

Avery looked mutinous.

"This is good news," Dean assured her. "Our chances of winning just went up by a lot, kid."

"I'm not leaving." Avery said stubbornly, "When Tom calls, I'll be there. Even if it kills me."

"We need the blade—" Dean continued but Sam stopped him.

"You stay with her. Cas and I will go."

Dean wanted to protest but Sam wouldn't be swayed and neither would Avery. Truthfully, he knew his brother could handle himself and with Cas by his side he knew that no great harm would come to him. He also wouldn't let Avery out of his sight if he could help it. Not being able to come up with an alternative arrangement, Dean reluctantly agreed to let his brother go. Cas appeared in Avery's apartment when they called him.

The angel was still furious with Dean for taking the mark but nothing could be done to change that now.

"I haven't found Abaddon or the vessel," He told them. "Wherever they are it is well warded. I won't be able to enter when you find it. Move with caution, Dean." He pressed a hand to Dean's shoulder and Dean winced for a moment. The red welt from where Castiel had pulled him from hell still marked his skin no matter how many times his body was healed. It was a mark on his soul that could never be washed away. Just like the mark he taken from Cain, it would be with him forever.

Castiel turned to Avery who shriveled under his piercing albeit kind gaze, "I hope you find what you are looking for, old one. It is not often those like you ever do."

With that uplifting sentiment, Castiel took Sam and fluttered away to the destination Crowley has sent Dean.

Alone, Avery and Dean looked at each other.

"Thank you for staying, it means a lot to me. I won't forget it."

Dean couldn't help but smirk darkly, "With your track record, I wouldn't bet too heavily on your memory."

Avery scowled but blushed, "It's not as if I could help it."

"You still want to say goodbye?" Dean asked.

Avery had never said that she'd wanted to, Dean had only suggested it, but Avery found that he was right. She wanted to see the people she'd grown to care for. Maybe it was goodbye, maybe it wasn't. The uncertainty of where she would be, who she would be, or if she even existed anymore in the next couple of days made her willing to see them all, especially now that it could be for the last time.

Avery nodded.

Metatron scribbled notes for a new story he had in mind on a bar napkin. The bartender brought him another Piña Colada and he sipped it absentmindedly as he waited for his errand boy to return.

He didn't need to wait long. Gadreel took the seat next to him and Metatron insisted that he order something to drink before he relayed his news. Gadreel glanced at the cocktail menu absently before pointing at the first one on the list. The bartender lifted a single eyebrow before shrugging and turning to prepare it for him.

"What news, Gadreel?" Metatron finally asked.

"The Winchesters are going after the blade. Crowley did not even question the tip. He took his demon's word without even asking where it had come across the information."

Gadreel frowned when the bartender handed him a poison green liquid in a martini glass. A wedge of green apple impaled on the lip of the thin glass. The bartender fought a smirk before turning away and muttering under his breath, "Appletini"

"Crowley is still in the throes of blood addiction. I imagine he would have followed the tip sooner if he had not spent so much time, as you say, scratching the itch."

"Substance abuse," Metatron said sagely, "It gets even the worst of us."

Gadreel hesitated, "…yes. Although I'm still not sure why you want Dean Winchester to have the blade. He could kill us and we wouldn't be able to kill him. I thought you wanted them both dead."

Metatron's face soured, "Well, Gaddy, plans change. Dean took the mark and it was only a matter of time before he found the blade so that plan was bust anyway. This way we might still get what we want. I've met Dean. I've watched him all his life. As soon as he has that old bone he won't be able to resist its call. When we kill him and he turns into— well you know what happens. I won't be surprised if he kills Sam himself. Michael and Lucifer, Cain and Abel, Dean and Sam, the meta-story repeats itself always and forever. Fratricidal brothers will always be fratricidal."

Gadreel said nothing.

"Besides, I don't trust Abaddon. I'd rather those apes in plaid kill her now while I look for the tablet. Once I have the word of God, it won't matter if Dean has the blade. He'll be no match for me." Metatron smirked, "And if I get a vessel or two out of the bargain, well. That wouldn't be so bad either."

Gadreel shifted uneasily and Metatron turned to him and smiled benevolently, "Do not trouble yourself, Gadreel. With this power, we will unite our brethren and set heaven right. You will still be at my side."

Gadreel nodded and stood, "I'll go and continue our work."

Gadreel left and Metatron continued scribbling. He story will be remembered for all of time. The angel who saved heaven. The hero of humanity. A new and deserving God.

Metatron smiled.

Sam and Castiel landed in a clearing at the eastern edge of a forest in Arkansas. Crowley was sitting on a stump with his head in his palms.

"Crowley," Sam called and the demon winced before looking up and standing unsteadily. His face was drawn and pale. Beads of sweat slid down his temples and disappeared under his collar despite the cool air.

"Did you bring what I asked for?" Crowley asked and Sam frowned.

"You look like shit. What happened to you?"

"Your concern, while touching," Crowley sneered, "is unsolicited. I'd ask you to kindly MIND YOUR GODDAMN BUSINESS."

The effect was not nearly so intimidating as it had once been and it was especially unimpressive now that it came from the trembling sweaty demon who looked like he might faint at any moment. Sam, not actually caring what was wrong with Crowley, shrugged and pulled the Men of Letters file from his laptop case and handed it to Crowley who skimmed through it, snapped out of existence, and returned juggling a bowl full of vials, a couple of chicken feet, and some blackened bones.

Crowley tossed Sam the file, who only just caught it, and lowered himself drunkenly to the ground so he could kneel and start preparing whatever spell he'd found in the records.

"What are you doing, Crowley?" Castiel demanded.

"I'm opening the door. Your pal Magnus, the man of letters, he's got the blade. Won it in a poker match from a pirate who stole it from a researcher who recovered the blade from the Mariana Trench. He's got a super-secret hideout here, just like yours. And just like yours, the door is hidden. But Magnus," Crowley crushed some of the bones, peeled the skin off the chicken feet and dumped the contents of the vials into the bowl before tossing them together like he was making a salad.

"There we are," He sighed and put the bowl down, "Magnus likes spells. Whoever made your bunker liked keys. This spell," He pointed at the sludge he'd created, "Opens the door. All caught up feathers? Samantha?"

Castiel and Sam glowered at him.

"Perfect, uhh….um" Crowley started to pat his coat pockets and look around at the clearing floor around him, "Fire, can one of you useless lumps get me some fire?"

Sam rolled his eyes and pulled the Zippo from his back pocket. He tossed it to Crowley he fumbled with it for a moment before igniting the flame and lightning the surface of the bowl.

A puff of white and purple smoke erupted from the sludge and started to solidify until a cloudy opening materialized in front of them.

Crowley leaned back till his legs came forward from underneath him. He shook off his black overcoat and fell backwards with a hand over his eyes to block the sun, "Alright Moose, mush. I'll be here waiting."

Sam wanted to snipe back but refrained knowing that he would only be wasting his breath. Castiel's angel blade materialized in his hand and he nodded once before stepping through the gate. Sam sighed and followed hoping that they wouldn't run into too much trouble.

Sam should have known better.

Avery was wrong before. Leiper's wasn't quiet. It was deserted. They'd checked everywhere and knocked on every door. Not a single soul was left in the whole town. Two hundred people had disappeared without a trace and there was only one person who could have possibly been responsible for it.

"What did she do to them?" Avery asked horrified.

Dean looked grim, "Nothing good. We should get back to your apartment." Abaddon had done something to these people and Dean didn't want to linger in the town square for another minute in case she came back.

Avery was reluctant to leave, she wanted to keep searching in the vain hope that there was a clue she'd missed or a sign that they were safe but Dean put his foot down. They needed to go back and toward the apartment. They needed to find someplace safe. Dean didn't want to believe that Abaddon had stuffed her demons down all of these people's throats but the possibility was too high to ignore. If there were two hundred demons here then they were badly outnumbered and had no way of fighting back.

Dean was seriously considering leaving so that they could live to fight another day. Even if Sam and Cas successfully found and brought the first blade back, he would be no match for that many demons. None of them were. They needed to leave and fight back when they were more evenly matched.

"Avery, let's go," Dean said and tugged her arm.

"Wait!" Avery stopped him, "Someone's over there."

Someone was over there. A woman was standing on the other corner of the street with her back turned towards them. She hadn't been there a minute ago.

"Erica?" Avery called out to her and Dean hissed a warning but it was too late. The woman turned around and Avery gasped before screaming in anguish.

Blood from the woman's slashed throat soaked her blouse and stained her blue jeans black. She stumbled forward and Dean realized that her left leg was bent at an awkward angle, her ankle only attached by a thin tendon. The woman was grinning.

Dean dragged Avery who stumbled after him, "Go!" He yelled. Avery and Dean sprinted down the street and turned the corner, racing towards the Impala. It was too late to try and get to her apartment. They need to leave now.

They stopped when they found their path blocked by two more people. They were equally mangled and had the same grins across their mouths only, they weren't smiles. The skin around their lips had been sliced and pulled back to display broken and bloodstained teeth.

Avery and Dean turned to run in the last direction available to them but found it similarly blocked. They were surrounded. One by one the towns peoples' eyes turned black. Smoke exploded from their throats and spilled towards them buffeting them in ab oily cloud that seemed to seep into every crevice and glide over every surface of their skin.

Dean held onto Avery's hand as hard as he could but he was pulled one way while she got pulled the other. He flailed when her hand slipped from his and he grabbed onto her jacket.

"Dean!" She screamed.

Dean cried out in pain when the fabric tore away from his fingers and snapped one of his nails in half. The smoke dissipated and rolled away into the horizon boiling and crackling like a thunderstorm.

Avery was gone.

Blood dripped from Dean's aching finger and he cursed before rushing to the Impala and chasing after the cloud of demons.

They had her.