Contingency13 (Post Oct 11?)
AN: I squeaked it in, folks! I know I'm going to be losing readers to Misha's poetry book and the convention coming up, hehe.
The ride from Anna's church to Bobby's place was roughly sixteen hours. Despite several factors playing into making the journey shorter than that (Dean's insomnia and lead foot combined with lack of gas refills), it was still going to be yet another long haul.
A few hours into the trip, Anna uncurled herself from the backseat and sat forward slightly. "So," she asked, shy and awkward. Dean turned down his Led Zeppelin tape. "How did you two, um...get into this line of work?"
Dean and Sam's gazes met, trying to determine how much to tell her. Dean took the lead. "Well, it's the family business," he answered cheekily. "Saving people and hunting things. Our Dad was a hunter, and he raised us in the life."
She pulled back slightly, eyebrows high. "Really? I'm surprised your mom was okay with that if today was any indication of what your day job is like."
Sam dropped his gaze. "Yeah, well, our mom is the reason our dad became a hunter. Demon got her." Dean made sure not to glance at Sam unconsciously, but he could still hear the tilt of guilt in his little brother's voice.
Anna let out a world-weary sigh and pushed a loose lock of red hair behind her ear. "I'm sorry for your loss. Normally I would say that God's plan is mysterious and unknowable, but I'm starting to wonder how much I learned was true or false."
"Trust me," Sam said. "This is just the tip of the iceberg."
She hummed softly, then asked in a tiny, wavering voice. "Does it ever go away?" Rubbing her hands up and down her arms, Dean couldn't help but feel sympathy for the poor girl.
He glanced sideways over his shoulder at her, then noticed Sam about to say something. Clearing his throat caught Sam's attention, and he shook his head slightly. Dean could give her a line about things looking up or things having a silver lining, but he wasn't Sam, so he told her the truth. "No. It's like a shitty patch job; the wound will close up but not without leaving a scar. You're gonna miss them, but eventually, it won't be so bad because it'll just be the norm."
Anna looked down at her feet as Sam shook his head. "I appreciate the honesty, Dean," she said, surprising them both.
"Don't think anyone's ever thanked me for that before," he joked.
"Pretty sure that's a first," Sam agreed.
There was quiet for a while before Anna cleared her throat, prompting Dean to turn down his Zepp again. "So, are you two going to tell me what you actually are?"
The passenger seat creaked when Sam turned to face her, brow furrowed at her question. "What do you mean?"
She scoffed. "He has a dangerous fallen angel inside you," she pointed to Dean. "And you attacked a demon by throwing a marble statue of the Holy Mother at it with your mind."
Running a hand along his jaw, Dean sighed heavily. "It's a long story," he said, hoping to cut the conversation off there.
Sam intently watched Dean's fingers tapping tunelessly on his thigh and turned Anna's attention onto himself. "Wait, you said the angels talked about us? You made it sound like you knew everything?"
"Well, no," Anna admitted. "I was only getting bits and pieces. After Castiel saved Dean, I heard a lot of talk about the 'early ascension.' There seemed to be a debate in Heaven on whether your early return from Hell was a good thing or not."
"Yeah, I'll bet," Dean complained, stomach churning.
"It's still amazing that angels just talk about us." Sam huffed in disbelief.
"Well, it's mostly Dean." She grimaced slightly as she corrected him. "No one seems to like you much."
Of everything Anna could have told his brother, that was probably the lowest blow she could have delivered. Sam fell quiet and bowed his head, a pained expression on his face that his hair was just a touch too short to hide. Kid believed in angels before Dean had. He'd managed to have faith in a higher power when all the evidence pointed otherwise. In reality, Sam had been right all along, and he was the one ignored by those same powers. If Dean ever met an angel, he'd strangle it.
"Hey," Dean said loudly, getting Sam's attention. "From what Cas has told me, the angels are flying dicks. You're best friends with the only worthwhile one. So don't get your panties in a bunch over whatever counts as gossip in Heaven, got it?"
Anna watched this exchange curiously as Sam sat up and brushed his hair from his face. "Yeah, I got it. Where is Cas, by the way?"
Dean felt inside himself-the grace was quiet. "Resting. It took a lot out of him to win that fight."
Anna crossed her arms. "He burned my father's church down, and you call that a win?"
Not liking the condescending attitude, Dean ground his teeth. "Yeah, and you wanna know why? Because that demon was Hell's version of the High Inquisitor," he told the others stiffly. "You can probably work out why him catching us would have been bad."
Dean was glad Anna was there despite his current irritation because Sam would have kept asking questions he didn't want to answer. Alastair had left scars that Dean was always going to tote around, but that didn't mean he ever wanted to discuss it. Especially with his little brother, the reason he'd gone to Hell in the first place.
The car fell silent; no one seemed to know how to break the tension in the air, so Dean turned his music back up. He was lost in thought for a while as he navigated them back to South Dakota, swapping between two-lane backroads and major highways. There was an itch at the back of his mind-the sensation that he was supposed to remember something.
Anna tapped him on the shoulder. "Can we pull over? I'm starving and need to use the restroom," she said a little desperately.
Sam was passed out next to him, and it was night outside. How long had he been mindlessly driving? "Ah, yeah, sorry, Anna." A mile up the road, the giant neon sign of a fast food joint summoned them like mosquitos to a bug zapper. His stomach grumbled, and she sighed in relief when they pulled into the parking lot.
As Anna took off for the bathroom, Dean looked at his gas gauge, and suddenly the weird sensation made sense. Depending on gas quality and the roads they were driving, the Impala using did between 240-290 miles before needing a gas refill. They had gone over that by almost fifty miles, and the tank's gauge still sat at "F." Gabriel hadn't been kidding about magicking the car with an infinite supply of gas. His shoulders slumped in relief at the idea of never needing to pay for gas again.
Speaking of pay, Dean pulled the golden credit card out of his wallet. "I've got a golden ticket," he sang to himself under his breath.
There was a grunt from the seat next to him, and Dean smacked his brother in the chest. "Jesus, look at you! Slobbering like a damn dog."
"Shut it, Jerk," Sam snapped, sitting up and looking around, grimacing at the drool on his face and at the fast-food joint they were parked in front of.
"Gonna start calling you 'Hooch,'" Dean joked, pointing out the drool that was on Sam's chin and jacket. "Which makes me Tom Hanks."
"No, that makes you a neurotic cop with too much OCD to get laid," Sam retorted with surprising clarity.
"Out, buttmunch!"
They wrestled for a moment (Dean trying to give him a noogie and Sam defending his honor) before they headed inside for a piss break and food. After meeting up with Anna inside, Dean, with poorly hidden trepidation, used his golden Trickster card for their food. Without hesitation, the transaction went through and a weight lifted from Dean's shoulders.
It was going to take some time to get used to the idea of money at their fingertips. They'd never have to take showers with their clothes on and dry them hanging from the shower curtain because they couldn't find quarters for the laundromat. They wouldn't need to save up their glass bottles and cans to haul to a high-paying recycling center half the country away. No more worrying about getting blood out of their jeans because they can't buy new ones.
They could afford bullets, salt, pumice stones to sharpen blades. They can afford decent hotel rooms (they aren't staying in the Ritz immediately) where the sheets have more than likely been washed recently and offer continental breakfast! They don't have to spend nights hustling; Dean could spend an hour in a hot shower and watch TV for the evening without feeling guilty about not providing for Sam.
Grabbing their food to eat on the hood of the Impala, Dean couldn't believe he'd been driving for hours without notice. Sam yawned halfway through his burger and was struggling to keep his eyes open. The power he'd have used to fling that statue-Dean was in awe of his brother for that. There was a time when something like that would have scared the hair right off his chest. Probably would've made him think of Sam as a monster. In that case, he was glad for Cas-at least the Winchesters could be monsters together.
Anna watched Sam rub his eyes after finishing off the food. When Dean stretched and shook his limbs, ready to plop back into the driver's seat, she narrowed her eyes and asked, "Aren't you tired, too? Shouldn't we stop for the night?"
Dean chuckled. "One of the benefits of an angel riding shotgun. I'm plugged into an angel battery, so I don't need sleep. Can't appreciate a fifth of whiskey anymore, but that might be more of a pro than a con."
Sam returned from throwing away their trash and asked Anna, "Think you'll be up for a while, or will you sleep soon?"
"Natural insomniac," she responded. "I'll be up for a while."
With a calculating look on his face, Sam motioned for them to swap seats. "Well, I'm going to pass out any second-" He yawned loudly. "So, you can sit up front up and keep Dean company."
"Uh, sure."
Dean wasn't happy with that turn of events and glared at Sam over the roof of the Impala. He didn't like it when strangers were next to him. Still, Sam shrugged and clambered into the back while Anna got comfortable up front.
After easing the car back onto the main road, Dean was about to restart his Zepp tape when Anna coughed gently to get his attention. "Why can't you drink alcohol anymore?"
Dean went ahead and told her the story of Rocky's Bar and the aftermath of Cas supercharging his liver. That ended up making her laugh pretty hard. In turn, Anna told him the story of when she and some friends snuck into the church after dark and got drunk on the communion wine. When she didn't come home the following day, her father went to the church and found her passed out lying on the front pew, the altar cloth draped over her like a blanket and drooling on a Bible she was using for a pillow.
Dean was pretty impressed there was such a rebel under the big doe eyes.
"Now, you never told me you're 'long story,'" Anna said, pointing from his snoring brother to himself. "And I'd rather listen to you than Led Zeppelin."
Dean put a hand over his heart, "You wound me!" He said in offense, only partially kidding.
She shrugged.
Within him, Cas suddenly came alive. He'd been silent and still the whole ride up to this point. He still wasn't completely sure they were okay or not.
Are you going to teach her about your music? Cas asked curiously. If it weren't for you and Sam educating me, I wouldn't have come to appreciate the music of Freddie Mercury.
Not everyone wants to listen to me Ramble On about Led Zeppelin. Dean snickered at his own bad pun.
Cas said with warm honesty. I enjoy it.
Yeah, well, as you said before, you're kinda stuck to me, Dean teased. But I'll just let her off the hook and be bitterly disappointed in her music taste.
Cas didn't say anything, but he got the feeling the grace was a little smug.
"Dean?" Anna asked, interrupting his thoughts.
"Sorry, yeah," Dean winked at her. "You wanted the long story with all the sordid details, right."
"Well, you can probably edit out some of the sordid details. My imagination's pretty good on its own."
The night passed, and Dean talked about their lives. It turned out Anna was a nice change of pace from Sam and even Cas, and she was a good audience. She gasped at the scary parts. She hummed in sympathy when she told her about Sam's death and the deal he made.
"Yeah, bet your life has been pretty smooth sailing in comparison, huh?" Dean asked, the highway lights passing overhead.
Anna fiddled with her fingernails for a moment. "Not totally. I had some weird hang-ups with my dad when I was younger."
"Oh yeah, like what?"
"It was weird," Anna started before she paused again, gathering her thoughts. "So, I think I was around 2ish or so when I remembered that my Father coming home from the Church scared me. I was convinced my Dad wasn't my actual Father and that the real one was furious and out to get me. I would hide in the closet or under my bed when he came home."
Dean grunted. "That's heavy for a 2-year-old. What did he do?" The 'to you?' was unsaid but implied.
"Nothing!" Anna swore. "He was the kindest man on the planet. He was the kind of man who'd cry if he squished the spider he was trying to put outside. That's why it was so weird."
"Eventually, they took me to a child psychologist, and I don't know what happened, but I forgot about it until I was in the hospital. Guess I repressed the incident, but once I was in the hospital…." Anna looked outside the windshield, watching the convey of overnight truckers hauling their loads on the less congested roads.
"I kept having these weird dreams that felt more like memories," Anna explained, leaning slightly away from him. "I had a dream where I was burning up in a fire; in another, I was staring down at a convict, both of us certain of our own paths."
Dean wondered if reincarnation was a real thing and if Anna remembered something from a past life. Considering that he just learned angels and Heaven and the Devil existed, other strange concepts suddenly didn't seem too far off base.
"Damn, Anna."
She ran her hands up her arms. "Yeah, I know I'm a freak."
"Were you not listening earlier?" She turned to Dean, who arched up against his eyebrow as he thumbed over the seat. "Sam was drinking demon blood when I dug out of my own grave a month ago. You're a freak?" He reassured her with a sincere grin. "Luckily for you, freaks we can handle."
"Yeah, I suppose. I just wish I knew why this was happening to me, Dean. Why was I targeted? Why can I hear the angels? Why are the demons after me?"
"Well, the demons are easy. You can hear everything the other side is cooking. You're an angelic wiretap, sweetheart."
"Still," she said, shaking her head. Pushing the red locks from her face, she broke out into a yawn. "Guess today's catching up to me, finally."
"We've still got a few hours on the road, so feel free to pass out," Dean said.
"Thanks again, Dean." She curled up into a ball in the passenger seat, leaving Dean to drive alone for a while longer. Well, not completely alone-he could still feel Cas inside him, but they didn't talk to each other. Dean assumed the angel was still wiped from the showdown and didn't want to interrupt him. It didn't help that Dean was still nervous about where Cas's head was when it came to them. So, he ignored it and any thoughts about this thing between him and Cas until he pulled into Bobby's driveway hours later in the gray morning.
Memories of another brilliant dawn in the junkyard, after his and Cas's first time together, made his breath hitch as he parked the car. It felt like years ago, but in reality, it had been a week, maybe almost two. He wasn't sure if it was still a good memory or not.
No, that wasn't true. Being the holder of Cas's v-card was always going to hold a special place in Dean's heart, if nowhere else. He would hold onto them fiercely because they were some of the few good memories he had in his life.
Bobby stepped out on the porch and impatiently waved at the parked car, prompting Dean to wake the others. The brothers grabbed their duffle from the trunk of the Impala and trudged up the steps to Bobby's house (Sam yawning loudly and bitching about his need for coffee). Anna's forest-green eyes scanned around the junkyard. When she wrinkled her nose in disgust, Dean cleared his throat. "Yeah, hope you're up to date on your shots. If you get a cut, we'll have to patch you up with vodka and dental floss."
She looked vaguely horrified.
They piled into the kitchen, and hasty introductions were made. Dean wasn't expecting a woman about his age, long brunette hair, ripped jeans, and a black tank top with Nirvana on it. Having been sitting on the couch in Bobby's study, she came up to them, smiling a dazzling smile.
"Boys. Ma'am," Bobby introduced. "This is Pamala Barnes, the psychic I was telling y'all about before. Best in the state."
"Nice to meet you," Pamela chirped. "When Bobby said the Winchester brothers needed my help, you bet your asses I was going to come out and help!"
"Why, you don't know us?" Sam asked.
"Sure I do, grumpy," she winked at him and ribbed his side. "You two are infamous, especially on the other side. Spirits are such gossips, especially when it comes to who offed them."
Her eyes ran up and down Sam in an appraising manner. "You must be Sam, yes?"
"Uh, yeah," Sam shook her hand. "Nice to meet you, Pamela."
She paused in front of Dean and looked him over curiously. "Dean Winchester, out of the frying pan and back into the fire." Her cheerful demeanor toned down just a little when she asked honestly, "Who's in there with you, Dean? I can read auras, but I can't get a fix on your hitchhiker. Just a lot of colors."
That caught Dean off guard. Except for Missouri Moseley, most supposed psychics were cranks. Pamela's winning smile helped him lower his defenses enough so he could explain, "His name is Cas, and he's an angel."
She laughed. "You don't have to flirt for him. If he wants to come out, I won't bite." She leaned close and whispered loudly, "Unless he asks nicely."
"I, wait, what?"
Pamela snickered as she clapped her hand on his left shoulder. "I'm teasing you, big guy. Both of you." She became serious for a moment. "Truly, though, I've heard about angels but never met one in person. It's an honor, Cas."
Tap tap. "It's nice to meet you too, Pamela," Cas rumbled and bowed his head slightly.
"Oh," she said, eyebrows up and mouth falling agape just a touch. "Now that's a voice. Is that a standard feature with all angels," she sidled in close, "or are you a showroom model?"
Dean cackled internally as Cas blinked once and asked, deadpan, "Was that a flirtation?"
She patted his arm and winked at him. "When you figure it out, big guy, let me know. In the meantime," Pamela turned to Anna, who ducked her head at the frisky smile directed towards her. "Who is the gorgeous young lady with you ruffians?"
"Anna. Anna Milton," she held her hand out to shake Pamela's. Instead, Pamela gently cradled Anna's hand between her own, voice softening into something a little friendlier and calmer.
"A true pleasure to meet you, Anna. Bobby wanted me to talk to you. Having demon troubles, are you?"
Anna nodded. "Can you help me?"
"Well, I'm no big strapping Winchester, but I'll see what I can do," Pamela said with a wink and a smile. She threw her arm over Anna's shoulder and whispered something into Anna's ear, which made the redhead laugh. Dean took back over; those two were going to be the death of him.
Once everyone was cleaned up, fed, and watered after the long trip, they hiked downstairs and piled into the panic room. Anna paused and gave Dean an incredulous look when he spun the vault door handle and opened it for them. "This? This is the safest place?"
Dean stepped inside, keeping his less than delightful memories of the room under wraps. He did a little spin in the middle of the devil's trap painted on the concrete floor. "Yup. Salt encrusted iron walls-no spirit nor demon can get in here." He pointed to a new sigil on the wall over the desk. "Anti-angel warding courtesy of Cas. This place is supernaturally bombproof."
As Bobby pulled down the tiny fold-down cot that hung from the wall, Anna and Pamela glanced around curiously. Sam sat at the entrance of the room but refused when Dean tried to get him inside. He returned with a kitchen chair to sit outside and watch as ladies sat on the cot side by side.
Dean couldn't blame him for not wanting to come inside. He wasn't able to glance around without being accosted by his own memories of the interrogation right after Hell. Sam had to detox from democratic blood in this room-his brother's hesitation was warranted.
Pamela held out her palm, and Anna grabbed hold of it. She seemed to shrink in herself when everyone's eyes were on her.
"Anna?" She lifted her head and met Pamela's eyes. "I'm not going to do anything without your permission, alright? I'm just asking a few basic questions to determine our next steps."
When Anna nodded her consent, Pamela looked her over. "So, do you have any idea why you started hearing the voices of the angels?"
"I don't," Anna said. "But it was the same day Dean got out of Hell. I heard the angels talking about it. I had never heard of them before that."
"Curiouser and curiouser," Pamela hummed. "Anna, do you remember anything in your life that could have led to you hearing angels? Any strange events or dreams?"
"Maybe the thing with your Dad?" Dean suggested when she sat there for a silent moment.
Anna nodded and turned back to Pamela. "There was a weird incident when I was younger. I thought my father was out to kill me. My 'real' father, not Richard Milton." She made air quotes with her free hand, not letting go of Pamela's for a second.
The psychic raised an eyebrow. "Yes, that could be something. Let's dig into that, shall we? Here, lay down for me, sweetie."
Pamela broke their hands apart to allow Anna to stretch out on her back on the cot. "Is this going to hurt?" Her voice wavered slightly.
"No, not at all, Anna."
Bobby offered his chair to Pamela so she could sit at the bedside. Sam and Bobby gave Dean questioning looks, but he only shrugged.
"Now, Anna, I want to put you under a mild form for hypnosis." Anna started to sit up, startled and a little freaked out at the suggestion, but Pamela put a gentle hand on her arm. "This isn't like the movies, Anna," Pamela said softly yet firmly. "You can't be made to do something you wouldn't do while awake. This exercise is just to help me get a better idea if any memories may be repressed." She cupped Anna's cheek. "Are you okay with that?"
"She's the best there is and a consummate professional," Bobby said fondly of the feisty brunette.
"We just want to help," Sam added from the panic room's entrance. "It would be nice not to be going into this completely blind."
"We gotcha, Anna," Dean said.
Swallowing her nerves, Anna said, "Alright, Pamela."
"Close your eyes, Anna." As Anna settled into the cot and closed her eyes, Pamela took a deep breath. "I'm going to count backward from five. When I get to one, you'll be completely relaxed and asleep. You'll be able to hear me and talk to me. Do you understand, Anna?"
"Yes, Pamela." Her voice wavered a little; she was trying to put on a brave face.
"You're gonna do fine, angel," Pamela said softly. "Five...let go of your anxieties and relax for me. Four...you're falling into a dreamless sleep. Three...Two. You're completely relaxed but can still hear me."
"And one: Anna, can you hear me?"
"I can hear you, Pamela…" she said sleepily.
"Good. Now, Anna, let's see if you remember anything more about this incident with your 'real' father. I want you to go back to your earliest memory. Let me know when you find it."
Inside his chest, Cas's grace stirred at those words. He'd been quiet for so long Dean was almost startled when Cas asked: Anna's real father?
She mentioned it in the car. You must have missed it. But yeah, she had this big freak out as a kid that her Dad isn't her real Dad. And I don't think she meant it in like 'it was the plumber' either-
Dean's mental discussion was cut off from Anna groaning from the bed. "No, no, no, no!" She twisted her head back and forth, terrified noises coming from her. "I can't look. I can't look!"
"Just one glance, Anna, that's all I need," Pamela said, voice steady and calm contrasted to Anna, who was bucking on the bed and trying desperately to squirm away from whatever she was seeing in her head. Dean, Bobby, and Sam all watched with growing concern.
"No, I can't look! I can't I-HE'S GOING TO KILL ME!"
Anna's words were bellowed out in a blood-curdling screech that made everyone but Pamela drop to their knees, hands covering their ears in pain. Pamela stood over Anna, grimacing in pain but not giving up the session just yet.
"Anna, Anna, who's going to kill you?" Pamela spoke calmly, but Anna sat right up on the cot, moving with an inhuman fluidity that Dean almost recognized. She screamed, and all the lightbulbs in the room blew. The heavy metal door of the panic room swung shut violently, and Sam had to jump inside not to be crushed.
Dean, she's not human, Cas yelled, ready to either attack her or defend him and Dean.
No shit, Cas!
Pamela held her hands over Anna's chest but didn't touch her. "Anna, you will wake up when I get to the five! One, two, three, four, five!"
The screaming stopped, and Anna flopped back down lifelessly. Everyone slowly straightened up, faces pale and eyes wide as they all looked at the girl on the cot. Slowly, Anna sat back up, blinking rapidly as she swung her legs over the edge of the bed. "Thank you, Pamela," Anna said with an easy confidence Dean hadn't seen from her.
"I didn't manage to find out anything," Pamela said.
"You did. I remember who I am now, thanks to all of you."
"Well, don't keep us in suspense," Bobby said while he glared at the broken glass everywhere.
Anna's eyes drilled into Dean's with the same alien intensity he was becoming all too familiar with. She sighed heavily. "If an angel were going to stand against Heaven, of course, it would be you, Castiel."
Tap tap. "Who are you?" Anna raised an eyebrow in disbelief when their eyes flashed blue, and Castiel's rough voice spoke from Dean's throat.
Anna hopped down from the cot and watched the gathered humans cooly. "It makes sense you can't recognize me-I no longer have my grace."
Sam coughed. "You're an angel? Like Cas?"
"Not like Castiel. Once upon a time, I was. But not anymore," she said.
"Oh, I don't know," Pamela flirted, "You still seem pretty angelic to me."
"You're sweet, Pamela," Anna smiled. "But, to answer your question, it's Anna."
Dean felt Cas begin trembling when Anna started to step forward. He held out his arms and moved so that Bobby and Sam were safely behind him. He manifested his angel blade and held it up. "Not another step," he growled.
Shit. She's not a good one, is she?
Anna paused, put her hands up. "Castiel, a lot has changed since the last time we saw each other."
Dean could feel the grace vibrating with energy, ready to attack or defend.
"Anna was the leader of the garrisons. She was the one who took over mine when I-"
"Defected," she supplied.
He squinted at her. "She's the one who hunted me for millennia. The one who brought my whole garrison down on my head." Cas hand tightened around his blade, and he adjusted his stance, ready to fight. "Why are you graceless and masquerading as a human?"
"I Fell."
For a moment, Cas was stunned. His quiet surprise seemed to echo around the metal room.
She's a fallen angel? Dean felt like his neurons were firing through molasses.
"That's impossible," Cas said, raising the blade tip again, showing his willingness to fight.
"You escaping from Hell was once considered impossible. Yet here we both are."
When she started to lower her arms, Cas stepped forward, blade ready. "I'm not going to hurt anyone. I don't even have my grace to make my blade-"
"You're the Leader of the Garrison," Cas snarled. "You don't need your grace to kill everyone in this room."
Pamela stepped forward and gently inserted herself between Cas and Anna, careful not to spook the angels. "Cas," she said gently, placing a hand on Cas's wrist. "I understand there's bad blood here, but I can vouch that Anna has no intention to hurt you or anyone else."
When Cas opened his mouth with a retort, Pamela tapped her head. "Psychic, remember?"
Eyes darting back and forth between the two women, Cas refused to move for a moment.
We should see what happened to her.
Anna paced back and forth, and while Cas made the blade disappear, he stepped aside slightly so that he was completely blocking the door. He crossed his arms. Don't let her pass, Cas said before giving the controls back to Dean and materialized in a place next to him, arms still crossed.
Anna paused, looked at Cas's avatar, and grinned. "Interesting setup, Castiel."
"It's Cas, not Castiel," he growled.
For a second, Anna's eyes widened. Dean assumed it was becuase of the blatant insubordination, but then she smirked. "Noted."
"So, where's your grace?" Sam questioned, bringing everyone back to the same page.
"I ripped it out," she said simply.
"You can just do that?" Pamela asked. "Sounds-"
"Painful?" Anna chuckled darkly. "Yeah, try removing your kidney with a butter knife. Then times that by a thousand."
"So, where is it?" Dean asked.
Anna shrugged and started pacing. "I don't know. I was falling about 10,000 miles per hour and lost track of it."
"Wait," Sam interrupted. "You were literally falling?"
"Gravity is a key component making someone fall, Sam," Cas grumbled.
Sam shot him an exasperated glare before he turned back to Anna. "No, I mean, would you or your grace have been visible to the human eye?"
"I suppose we could have been," Anna said. "Without my grace, I found my mother, who hadn't been able to get pregnant. She called me her little miracle." Anna paused and smiled to herself. "As I grew up, I forgot about being an angel until Dean was dragged from Hell. Cas's proclamation must have flipped a switch in my head, and suddenly I could hear Enochian and see the demon's true faces."
"Enochian?" Dean asked.
"Language of the angels," Cas explained. Ah, so that harsh, guttural language had a name now.
"Alright," Dean said, finally starting to catch up. Shocking his hands in his pockets, he leaned towards Cas. "So, how come when you Fell, you were playing house with the Milton's while Cas got thrown into the Pit?" Dean demanded, anger building on Cas's behalf.
"I ran away, and without my grace, they couldn't find me. If I'm found, I'll be executed. I don't think Heaven is going to make the same mistake twice about throwing a living Fallen into Hell again."
Cas didn't respond but stood up a little taller and tightened the arms crossing his chest.
"Guys, this is great!" Sam said, almost bouncing in excitement. When everyone turned to look at him, he blurted out, "Anna, if we can find your grace, can we use it?"
She stopped pacing and studied Sam with interest. "I mean, I don't exactly want it back, but since I'm apparently on both Heaven and Hell's shit lists, it might behoove me to get it for protection. But, why do you want it?"
"The spell!" Dean said, catching on. "We can stop the Apocalypse, Anna. If we use your grace, we can lock up Lilith, and it's over."
She raised an eyebrow. "You're serious?"
"Yeah," Bobby said, scratching under his cap. "As a heart attack."
Sam cleared his throat. "I've got an idea. Bobby, can you come with me?"
The two men headed back upstairs to the study. Pamela looked Cas's avatar up and down. "Well, I can certainly see why Dean's possessive of you, hottie."
Dean knew his face was flushed but before he could say anything, Pamela looked between the two angels. "You two need to talk. You might find you're on more of the same page than you realize."
Pamela went upstairs, explaining the need for water, which left Dean and the two Fallen staring at each other warily.
"Cas," Anna said. "I want to say that I'm sorry."
He said nothing and didn't move. Dean shifted his weight to lean closer to Cas's side and shoved his hands in his pockets.
"He was just trying to help people," Dean managed to say after a moment, cutting his eyes up to her's. "Why go after him like that?"
"Are you telling me you never got an order you initially obeyed, only to realize later on how much of a mistake it was?"
John appeared in his mind. Deal with your brother, one way or another.
"I thought angels were supposed to be perfect. How can you feel things like doubt?"
"Perfect? Angels are like marble statues, Dean. Cold and unfeeling-they don't feel emotions."
Cas nodded reluctantly, almost sadly.
Something must have flickered across Dean's face because she hastily added, "At least proper angels don't. But, that's the last thing we are, anymore." Anna rubbed her arms and seemed to be offering a verbal white flag to Cas. "No matter how long I followed your trail, wherever Heaven told me of how dangerous he'd become, I could only find evidence of you helping humans. I even tried to go to Naomi and plead your case-"
"Stop." Cas ground out the word, and Anna clapped her mouth shut. "It doesn't matter," he said quietly. "Heaven made sure everything I tried to do was for naught. And now you're blaming your Fall on me?"
"No, Cas. You helped me to see what Heaven was. You were an inspiration."
He ducked his head and huffed. "That's the last thing I should be to anyone." Cas vanished abruptly, leaving Anna and Dean alone in the panic room.
"Guess he's still pissed," Dean offered awkwardly, scratching his head.
"If he was at full power, I'm not sure I would have survived this meeting. So, small favors," she sighed. "I guess I'm grounded in here til further notice?"
"Sorry." He patted one of the walls. "If Pamela's sticking around, she could come to keep you company while I see what Sam's up to?"
"Thank you, Dean. And I know he's still angry, but I am truly sorry, Cas."
Cas said nothing on their mental channel, so Dean nodded once and headed upstairs.
Bobby and Sam were pouring over various books, so Dean went outside to get his hands under the Impala's hood. Her engine was spotless; her fluids all topped up; her tires in perfect condition and not a speck of road dust on her shiny black paint.
It was a bonafide miracle. His initial curiosity quickly soured into frustration as he had nothing to work on, to focus on. Flinging his empty motor oil bottle into the garage, he grunted angrily when Sam stepped outside. "What's wrong?"
"She's perfect," Dean huffed.
When Sam lifted a shoulder in confusion, Dean closed her hood harder than she deserved. "I have nothing to work on."
"You're pissed because the car is in perfect condition?"
Dean didn't know how to explain that he liked the fact that she was good. But he needed his hands in an engine to think and process stuff. The main conduit he used to focus on the things life threw at them had been taken away.
"Come on. You can have your car crisis later," Sam admonished. "We found something."
Everyone was in the study. Spread across the coffee table in Bobby's study were several books on astronomy encyclopedias, laid open and haphazardly overlapping each other. "So, I think I found you," Sam said, piquing Anna's interest. He pointed to a section in the book in front of him. "Here, nine months to the day of your birthday in '85 was a meteor right over the town in Ohio you grew up in."
She leaned forward to look at the page. "Alright, sounds like it."
Sam flipped several pages and pointed to another section. "So, get this, the same night, over Kentucky, was another meteor."
"That's vague," Dean protested. "How can you be sure?"
"If you'd let me finish," Sam grumbled, shooting him a bitchface. He picked up a smaller book. "In this book on local Kentucky legends, back in '85 outside of Union, was an empty, barren field. Six months after the meteor passed overhead, there was a full-grown oak that looked to be over a century old in that same field."
Anna didn't seem excited, but she nodded. "That must be it. Grace is pure Creation; it could easily do that."
Sam stood up and fished his phone from his pocket. "I'll be right back," he said before heading outside where Dean had been moments earlier.
"What's got a fire lit under his ass?" Bobby asked curiously.
"Who," Dean automatically correctly. "Not my secret to tell," he added when Bobby opened his mouth to begin the interrogation.
Within thirty seconds, there was a loud BANG! A cloud of white smoke exploded in the kitchen, startling everyone as Gabriel hopped out of the fog with his trademark smirk in place.
Sam stomped in through the door he'd just walked through and pinched the bridge of his nose. "There's a door."
"I'm aware," Gabriel said. "But that's boring."
Just to mess with Sam, Dean chuckled. "Oh, I dunno. Kinda like the theatrics."
"Glad to see someone appreciates me around here," Gabriel huffed good-naturedly. He looked at the others in the study, then turned to Sam. "A bit early to meet the family, isn't it, kiddo?"
The entire room went deadly silent, and Sam looked about two seconds from psychically choking Gabriel to death. "Are you serious?" Sam complained.
Gabriel shrugged. "Not if I can help it. Now, let's see if I can guess who's who." He pointed around the room.
At Bobby, "Beef jerky."
At Sam, "Twinkie" (with a wink).
At Dean, "Reese's. Wasn't expecting you two to get along so well."
Dean, what's a Reese's?
Between Pamela and Anna, he paused. "Hm. Not sure which would be the Devil's or the Angel's food cake here."
Pamela threw her head back and laughed loudly while Anna stepped back slightly, nose wrinkled. "Oh, honey, you couldn't keep up," Pamela said, and Gabriel froze for a few seconds, zeroing in on her.
"Is that a challenge?" He asked quietly.
"Nope. I'm a psychic," she said. "It's a promise."
"Alright, alright," Bobby said, standing up and shooting Gabriel a glare. "I know where the pine branches are, so keep your trap shut, Trickster."
Gabriel straightened up and put his hands on his hips. "Excuse me? My presence was requested, and now you threaten me as your guest?"
Bobby glowered silently but said nothing. While he might have helped raise Sam and Dean, his innate knowledge of when to keep his trap shut in front of superpowered entities hadn't entirely been passed down.
Still, even if Bobby only knew the being as a Trickster, there were rules to follow. "So, I'm guessing you 'requested' him, Sam? Can I ask why?"
"He can make us a box to hold Lilith," Sam answered. "Don't exactly have the luxury of a moral stance at this point."
Bobby ran a hand over his face and grunted. "I'm tellin' ya, one match, and I can be on the beach in the Dominican by tomorrow."
Dean groaned as he was bombarded with the unbidden idea of Bobby naked except for a bright yellow banana hammock and trucker's cap while sleeping in a rope sling on a tropical beach.
"We can stop the whole shebang," Dean said. "That's why Cas pulled me early. I'm the spanner in the works. But with your grace, we can lock up the bitch the whole Apocalypse hinges on and throw away the key."
That's not the only reason, Dean, don't you remember?
He didn't respond. Anna looked at Dean, then at the others. "You truly think you can stop the Apocalypse, the divine plan? With some half-baked magic from a demi-god?"
Gabriel straightened up and coughed. Hard. Dean could tell he was struggling to hold back some snarky comment. The blow to his cover prevented him from correcting her. "It's not half-baked, that much I can guarantee," Gabriel said quietly, dangerously.
Anna looked at Gabriel, really stared at him for a moment.
I don't get it. She had your number immediately; why is she acting like she can't see he's an angel too?
I knew Gabriel personally, but Anna didn't, Cas explained. I could recognize him even under his best disguise, but she couldn't see past it. If she had her grace, she might have a better inclination of his true identity.
Tap tap. Cas straightened up. "This plan is all that stands between humanity's survival and humanity's downfall, Anna."
"I don't want it back," she admitted. "But this is more of a need than a want at this point. I'm a sitting duck."
Cas tilted his head. "If I can offer you protection, will you trade your grace?"
"How would you even do that, Cas?"
Sam sympathetically winced and rubbed his chest. Dean would do the same thing, thinking along the same lines as his brother.
"Fine," Anna said. "I agree. We'll have to go and get my grace from Kentucky."
"Actually," Gabriel spoke up. "You are going to find the angel's grace," he sneered a little extra hard, playing his role to a T. "Sambini here and I are going to talk to a man with the plan."
Sam ran a hand over his head. "Will you just shut up, please?"
"Where's the fun in that?" Gabriel scoffed.
"What man are you talking about?" Bobby asked.
Gabriel grinned. "Oh, just a squirrelly author of trashy pulp fiction who's unknowingly moonlighting as a prophet on the side."
"A...prophet?" Sam asked.
Anna and Cas both intoned"Chuck Shirley" in tandem.
Cas, how did you know that?
"The prophets are predestined, and every angel knows them," Cas offered.
Anna snickered. "I hope this one is doing better than Luke."
"Everyone did better than Luke; the dead ones, especially," Cas said, and Anna laughed at that. He tilted his head slightly, taken aback. Dean could feel the confusion from Cas as he turned away from her.
Dean looked at Sam and Gabriel and grumbled. I don't like splitting the party. Why can't we just all go together? The how else am I supposed to keep an eye on Sam was implied.
"Time is of the essence," Cas answered aloud. "We need to meet our objectives before any enemy agents can interfere. Why do you want to see the prophet?"
"He might be able to tell us where Lilith is going to holed up," Gabriel said. "We can plan around that because the prophet's written word is law. What he sees happen will happen."
Sam was openly curious when Gabriel summed it up. "Just trying to sneak a peek."
Tap tap. "Fine," Dean said, taking back over. He pointed at Gabriel. "No funny business!"
"Hello?" Gabriel circled his face. "Trickster? That's all I do!"
"You know what I mean," Dean said, scowling between him and Sam. His younger brother threw up his hands and groaned, face and ears fire-engine red from embarrassment.
Gabriel snapped up a candy bar and beamed between them, chest puffed up and smirking brightly.
Pamela slapped her thighs as she stood up. "As fun as this sounds, I recognize when things are way above my paygrade. Good luck, guys." She paused and whispered something in Anna's ear that made the former angel blush slightly. "Call me if you need me," she said before bidding goodbye to the crew.
Bobby grunted and walked her to the door. Dean heard several apologies for the 'rowdy gatecrashers,' but Pamela laughed it off and patted Bobby's scruffy cheek. "You always keep me on my toes, Bobby. Don't let them give you too many more grays."
Dean turned to Sam, stomach getting knots at the idea of Sam going off with a dangerous monster. "Watch yourself," he said.
"I'm more worried about you," Sam said honestly, and yeah, Dean felt that concern in his bones. Cas and Anna were worse than cats and dogs right now. A road trip with two fallen angels with bad blood wasn't his idea of a vacation, either.
With a snap of his fingers and his smirk back in place, Gabriel and Sam disappeared. Anna and Dean locked eyes as Cas buzzed inside, like pulsing heartburn.
"This is going to be so much fun," Dean grumbled as he grabbed his duffle from the front entrance and waved Anna back out towards the car. Anna thanked Bobby profusely while also apologizing for the lightbulbs. Dean slipped into the driver's seat and sat there for a second. He loved his Baby, and he loved the open road and the freedom that came with hunting.
At that moment, literally on the heels of a 16-hour sprint to Bobby's only to set out immediately on an 18-hour trip to Kentucky, he hated everything. He could still feel the warm imprint from his ass, radiating from the leather, for fuck's sake. Leaning his forehead against the steering wheel, Dean let out a world-weary sound.
Dean? I'm sorry I can't fly us there.
Don't need you going on a guilt trip Cas, he thought tiredly. Thanks to Cas's presence, it was such a weird concept, feeling mentally worn out but not physically tired.
Anna sat in the passenger seat and leaned forward slightly. "I could drive?"
Dean whipped up, aghast. "Oh no! I don't even like it when Sam drives my baby."
She held up her hands. "Sorry."
He leaned over and grabbed the ragged shoebox of tapes, and ran his fingers over them. He wanted to put on Zepp but moved on and instead picked some Nirvana. Anna buckled her seat belt and started gently tapping her foot in time to "Smells like Teen Spirit."
Cas said nothing but Dean could feel the caution and concern, strung bow-tight, running through to his very bones. Dean curled his hands around the steering wheel to try, and still the tremors that he knew weren't coming from him. The leather creaked ominously.
Ease up, Cas, Dean said. Gonna need you to stow it til this is over.
The grace stilled, and Dean wasn't sure which was worse, the trembling or the motionless waiting. Because that's what Cas was doing, waiting for Anna to strike.
Before he realized what was happening, his right hand lifted off the steering wheel and reached over to land on Anna's clavicle. "Dean, what are you doing?"
"I'm not!" He protested. "Cas, what the hell?"
There was heat down his arm, and Anna bucked backward, hands to her ribcage. "What did you do?"
"I held up my end of the bargain," Cas growled through Dean's mouth. "You're warded."
Cas promptly pulled his arm back, and Dean felt himself regain control of it. Anna was rubbing her chest, glaring at him.
Dude, what the hell? You didn't even ask first.
I'm sorry, Cas said, actually sounding contrite and suddenly exhausted. Everything's been too much. I can't...need to rest.
The grace stilled so completely he felt alone for a few seconds.
"I guess I deserved that," Anna broached.
"Yeah, well, he's going to sleep his bad attitude off," Dean grumbled. "Sorry, I didn't mean to…: His face grew hot.
"Yeah, I know. It's fine," she said quickly. There was an awkward silence in the car, and Dean suddenly wished he could fly. Fuck Sam and Gabriel's teleportation.
If Winchesters had luck, it was the worst kind imaginable. Like, dropping a mirror while walking under a ladder and stepping on a black cat's tail on Friday the 13th bad.
Cops tried to pull them over, and Dean had to pull from pretty fancy maneuvers to lose them, which added a couple of hours to the trip. Then a flash flood took out the main road, so they had to backtrack several miles to get to another detour. After a rainstorm started pelting his car with hail the size of softballs, Dean was over it. He pulled into a diner/gas station and rest area, pulling the car up to the gas pumps, hoping the roof overhead was enough to protect her from the damage.
Other cars parked haphazardly in the parking lot as people tried to outrun the rain to get inside. They waited a few moments, and as the rain petered out, Dean and Anna made a break inside. After bathrooms breaks, Anna had grabbed a booth. He grabbed some local paper purely out of habit and ordered a beer as he flipped through them. When their waitress commented on how cute a couple they made, both of them demurred softly and couldn't look at each other. When the beers arrived, Dean drained his immediately.
Anna bright the bottle to her lips. "I thought you couldn't drink anymore?"
"I forget sometimes," he admitted. He looked at Anna, watched as their waitress asked Anna a question. People looked at them, but Dean felt a strange longing in his gut. He didn't need a Bluetooth to talk to her so no one would question his sanity. Yet, it was Cas he wished was also across from him. Commenting on the people, asking weird questions that Dean had no idea how to answer because he didn't take everything literally.
When did life become so goddamn complicated?
While waiting for their food Dean, out of habit, grabbed a couple of local newspapers and started flipping through one. On the front page was the last thing he wanted to see. His shoulders dropped as he sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. "Dammit."
"What's up?"
He slid the paper to her and pointed to the article. "We're going to need to make a pit stop."
"Dean, we're on a schedule," she said quietly.
"I know," he hissed back. "But who knows if there are any other hunters in the area. By the time someone else comes along, more hikers will be dead." He tapped the paper hard a couple of times. "This is a milk run, but I'd still like some backup."
Anna studied him. "I'm still only a human."
"So am I," Dean said. "Besides, don't need anything more than a machete and a battle plan. Cas talked up how much of a badass you were in Heaven. Still got it in you, angel?"
"Guess we'll find out, won't we?" She asked.
The nest was on the way to Union, and Dean pulled up to the place he figured out from the couple articles in the papers and his years of experience. As he parked the Impala about half a mile from the small hunting cabin, Anna watched him.
Cas was on stand-by and hadn't moved or spoken. Dean wondered if Cas was curled up in the bed in the cabin, and his heart pounded a little extra hard. Regretfully, Dean wished he could see Cas sleeping for real in a bed next to him.
Though he was reluctant to admit it, Cas's nap was a good thing. Between Sam and his powers and Cas being General McBAMF at all times, Dean was worrying he wasn't pulling his weight, doing things for himself. Getting out of fighting shape because of all the superpowers.
In a regular old vamp hunt sans angelic smiting, the only way the suckers was with decapitation, which meant Dean was in charge since Anna was a greenhorn. He could do this. Easily.
They got out, and he went to the trunk, digging out machetes and handing one to Anna. It was such a weird visual, giving this woman in a white blouse and heels a machete for a vampire hunt, but she flipped the blade in her hand a few times, getting a feel for its weight and range. She looked up at him, and Dean could see the stone-cold hunter from Heaven in those hardened green eyes under the low afternoon light. The sun was going to set soon, and the vampires would be ready to hunt. They had to move.
Without speaking, he closed the trunk quietly and motioned her to follow along. The walk was slow as Dean kept checking the game trail, listening for sounds from the vamps or other activities. The vamps were in a foreclosed and run-down cabin in the darkened woods. He touched the door's lock for a second and had Cas's grace unlock it, and they moved silently inside.
Anna split off and headed into the living room while Dean checked out the bedroom to the right. A pair of vampires were tangled around each other in the bed so thoroughly that he paused. Young guys, not much older than Sam, holding hands and foreheads touching. For a second, Dean felt gross, an intruder in a private moment. But the pictures of the dead hikers from the paper flashed across his mind. They didn't deserve to be run down and drained like cattle.
Dean raised the blade and drove it through their necks, angled so he could cut through both at once. They had no idea what hit them, and he felt that was more than merciful.
There was a scuffle in the living room. Hauling ass, Dean darted from the bedroom to see Anna struggling with a vampire. Just as he reached up to grab the vampire off of her, another vampire reached around his stomach. Dean flung his head back, stomped his foot down hard on the vampire's foot, getting it to let go. Dean swung around and sliced the fucker's head off easily. There was a fountain of spray, and the body dropped in front of him. There was a familiar thud behind him, and he found Anna panting, a headless vamp in front of her.
"See? Milk run." He said, a little cocky.
Anna's eyes grew wide and started forward. "Dean-!"
Turning around, a vampire hiding behind the island in the tiny galley kitchen launched herself at his back. She was about to rip his head from his shoulders, but Dean, with the agility of a feline, twisted himself around and chopped through the woman's neck. Her momentum carried her forward, and she hit the floor right in front of Anna.
Their eyes met, and he felt Cas shudder to life inside him. Dean? What's going on? Where are we?
Don't worry about it, Cas. Anna had my back. Just had to deal with some vamps.
Dean waved her along, and Anna jogged from the crime scene. He looked around at the bodies, the rotting cabin, and blood mixing and making his nose itch. Carefully avoiding the blood, he made his way to the kitchen, opened the small gas stove, and turned all the burners on. Gas flooded his nose, burning it and making him cough. He ran out of the cabin as fast as possible and only stopped at Anna's side, several dozen feet away. Wordlessly, she grabbed a long branch and motioned for Dean's ruined and bloody t-shirt.
Raising his eyebrow and giving her a cheeky grin, he pulled off his flannel and T-shirt. After handing her the shirt, he tugged on the flannel but left it hanging open and unbuttoned. He studied the house, waiting to see any other surprise vampires when Anna clearing her throat, caught his attention.
Anna pointed at his chest and said lightly. "Looks like someone had a good time," she commented as she took his shirt and wrapped it around the end of the branch, making a torch.
Dean's brain froze as he looked down at saw the hickes, the bruises, the fucking handprints around his wrists. Oh, Jesus fucking Christ, he swore mentally, shame churning his insides.
He was caught between buttoning up the shirt or standing there nonchalantly when he watched the marks heal up and disappear right in front of his eyes. He blinked in shock.
Cas, what the hell are you doing?
You were ashamed of them, Cas said simply.
His heart broke with that cold disregard. So, he was right. Cas honestly didn't care. Not like that anyway. Still friends, but only friends. Part of him felt a weight lifted from his heart-a palpable relief that he finally knew where they stood. His eyes caught Anna's, and they stared for a few seconds before she held up the torch.
He dug out his trusty Zippo and caught the shirt on fire. As the fire curled up into the bloody fabric, he forced a chuckle. "If I had a nickel for every fire I've had to set in the last month, I'd have three nickels. Weird it's happened so many times. I swear, I'm not a pyromaniac."
"That sounds like something a pyro would say."
Shaking his head, Dean harnessing the power under his skin and threw the branch like a rocket-fueled javelin into the open door of the house. The place quietly caught fire, a small explosion breaking out the glass in the windows and bringing the roof down onto the building. There was nowhere for the fire to spread, open sky above and trees in a wide arc around out. They watched the building burn down for a while.
Anna spoke without looking at him. "This is your day job?"
"This is a boring day at the office," he promised. "Thanks for the assist. We made a pretty good team, huh?"
She shrugged. "You seemed to have things handled on your own."
Dean's pride perked up at that.
With a blink, Cas was standing on Dean's other side, studying Anna. "Thank you for having Dean's back," he said quietly.
"He didn't need it," Anna said. "Can we go grab the grace now?"
Turning towards the flames, Cas held out his hand, closed his fist. Immediately the fire on the cabin extinguished at once, and the place collapsed into a pile of ash and charred wooden frames. "I second that."
When Cas tried to meet Dean's eyes, Dean found he couldn't bring himself to look back.
According to the local lore, the Old Union Oak was either cursed or blessed, depending on what you need from it. Sick people who touched the tree were healed, but the weather in the area was always extreme, draughts to flash floods constantly. As if the grace was knocking the whole area off balance.
They parked outside of the fabled field just after dawn. The morning was bright and the birdsong loud as Dean, Anna, and Cas walked through the forest path. It was a genuinely massive oak, and Dean could immediately see why there were legends about this gnarled thing before him. Anna slowly walked through the knee-high wheat, up to the tree. Cas stood next to Dean, grace vibrating. "This is it," Dean said. "We grab the grace. We've got her. It's over."
Cas nodded stiffly. "We shouldn't celebrate just yet, Dean."
"Hey, we hardly ever get anything close to a win. Let me indulge for a-"
Anna turned back to them, face pale. "It's not here!" She called out.
Dean's face fell. "What do you mean?"
"My grace! It's-"
There was a crack of lighting in the cloudless sky. A roll of thunder washed over them, and Dean felt the charge in the air. A whoosh of feathers kicked up the dust around them.
Ten feet away, standing there watching them with contempt, was a black man in a violet suit, a predatory grin splitting his face. Hovering over the man's head was a thin line of black lighting, encircling his head like a halo. Enormous wings spread up and over them, gray feathers spread with more of that black electricity skittering over the wings.
It was with contempt and disgust when he spoke, wrinkling his nose as he snarled at them. "A Fallen hopeful, a Fallen failure, and our missing Winchester. Your interference ends here."
"And who do you think you are, Junkless?" Dean snapped back.
Anna took a slight step back. "Dean, shut up! That's Uriel. He's an Angel of Death."
"I thought Reapers were angels of death?" Dean questioned.
Cas grabbed Dean's shoulder, hard enough that he was going to leave bruises in the shape of his fingertips."He's a specialist. The kind that kills all the oldest sons in Egypt or destroys the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah, as God commands it."
"I would love to crucify the three of you on the surface of the sun," Uriel said simply. "However, I think the real question to ask is: is this what you're looking for?" He revealed a glowing glass bottle hanging from a chain around his neck.
At Anna's frightened gasp, Dean knew Winchester luck had struck once again.