Can Team Free Will really pull off getting Michael a suitable non-Dean vessel? One that won't die andwon't let him destroy the world?
Here's hoping.
Sam rubbed at his eyes, hating the way they got dryer and dryer as the hours spent hunched in front of his laptop crawled by, his long lost mom sitting across from him, pawing through medical journals and biblical works in turn, scribbling down anything even potentially helpful as they quaffed mug after mug of anything Cas set in front of them.
A Cas playing the part of support as he ran from their little think tank to the medical ward to the Kitchen and back. Continually. All while looking over every note, bookmarked page, and link the human hunters sent him, hoping one would somehow pan out if checked over by someone with a set of eyes more divine than theirs.
There were just so many hospitals to check; so many coma wards and care facilities even just within the tristate area.
They were never getting through all of it.
Sam sighed as he gave his eyes one more rough massage. Then, deciding that he couldn't stand sitting in the same position a moment longer, he stood from his chair, put his hands to either side of his spine, and stretched his back out. Relieved when it popped just the way he liked.
When he noticed the hunter across from him eyeing him with a rather impressed look, Sam sat back down quick to hide his rising blush behind his laptop screen. A tactic which would have been more effective were he not quite so tall.
At the clearing of a throat though, the embarrassed Winchester looked up from the glow of his screen and was surprised to find a set of challenging eyebrows leveled his way. And the woman attached to them standing from her seat with an inordinate air of determination.
Then, Sam watched as his mother pulled herself to her full height, put her hands to either side of her spine, and popped her back exactly the way Sam'd just popped his. Only louder.
"Huh, so that's where I got it," Sam said, eyebrows high in perplexed amazement.
"I got it from your grandpa," Mary said with a wry grin.
"Guess I inherited more than just his name?" Sam said, remembering how strange it had been to spend time hunting with the man out of time.
"Yeah, you got his stubbornness too," the daughter said with a pointed glance at his laptop.
"The sooner we get through all of this, the sooner Dean gets his body back," Sam reasoned, doing his best to not sound defensive.
"Amen to that," Mary said, nose already back to that grindstone, flipping through yet another volume of her unbelievable stack of leather bound texts.
At the image, Sam guessed that he wasn't the only one to have inherited Samuel's legendary stubbornness.
Then he went back to work.
Some hours later, the three of them had a meal of questionably safe leftovers in them and a preliminary list of potential candidates to look over. Or, rather, for the angel in their midst to look over.
"Cas, how're we gonna know if the 'vessel' is suitable? And, I mean, if there's no one home, can Michael even be 'let in'? Is it an abandoned house situation, or more like an unoccupied summer home? Would it still be 'breaking and entering'?" Sam asked, amazed that he hadn't thought to ask any of that before right then.
"We will need to choose wisely. It will have to be someone who, throughout their active years, was devout and optimally an active practitioner of a faith that acknowledges and appreciates our kind," Cas explained. "If we can confirm their history with family, friends, church community, a pastor or rabbi or imam, all the better."
"But will it be enough that they were devout?" Sam asked, trying his best not to sound skeptical. "I mean, I'm sure there are plenty of people who've never missed a Sunday of church who'd sooner admit themselves into the nearest padded room than say 'yes' to letting in an 'archangel of the Lord'."
"I suppose... we'll need to vet them very carefully," Cas said, expression thoughtful. "And have faith that nothing further can go wrong in this,"
"Wait, I've got it," Mary called from where she was sitting at her reading seat at the table, enthusiastic flip of her head swinging her eyes to meet with first Sam's and then Cas's. "Faith, trust? Great, we're gonna need those for sure, but on top of that, if this whole bodysnatcher thing is gonna take, what we need is a donor." The raised brow at the end of her statement did little to clue Sam in to her meaning.
"Uh, right, Mom, that's what we're looking for," the son ventured, wondering whether then was a good time for a team break. Not quite sure how long any of them had been up by that point and absolutely sure all of them could use a few hours away from the dusty tomes and glowing screens.
"An organ donor," Mary amended, brow hiking even higher while she did. Showing no signs of bringing it back down until Sam felt his eyes widen with realization.
"Of course, if someone's signed up for the organ donor program, that means they've given consent for someone else to make use of their body once they... no longer need it. Mom," he said, quick to take the few strides necessary to bring himself around to her seat, "you're a genius." Then he stooped down and draped an arm across her shoulders in the type of hug a much, much younger Dean had occasionally surprised him with when a much, much younger him was busy doing homework. Only, Sam left out the part at the end. The part where Dean made him demonstrate how to break out of a headlock. Or, if he was feeling generous, just gave him a good old-fashioned noogie.
And Sam definitely wasn't calling his mom a dweeb.
"Yes, Mary, this will allow us to tighten our search substantially," Cas said, face brightening with the realization.
"And better the odds once we've narrowed it down," Sam agreed with a nod.
"Well alright then," Mary started with a mock impatient wave of her hands, "what're we waiting for?"
"Right, we've got an organ donor to find," Sam agreed, giving his mom an impulsive kiss to her temple before releasing his hug and moving back around to his seat at the table.
"Yes, and I'll start a fresh pot," Cas said as he turned from the study group, crossing names off of their list as he left for the kitchen. Muttering to himself as he went.
Sam looked back to his mother as the angel disappeared from sight, finding a face every inch as entertained as his above her stack of old books.
With a shared shake of their heads, the hunters went back to what they'd already sunk a multitude of hours into, this time with a surer search criteria than they'd originally hoped for and therefore, far more hope than they'd started with.
Haha, you go, Mary!