The Bad Seed Part 1

Lebanon, Kansas

Angela, Sam, Dean, and Castiel sat at one of the tables in the Men of Letters library. Grace sat on Sam's lap, munching on a chocolate-chip cookie. As Sam spoke, Angela found herself deep in thought, thinking about the Darkness.

"So, that was the last of the neighbors, just like the rest." Sam finished. "Angie? Angie!"

"Yeah." Angela looked up at her husband.

"You okay, kiddo?" Dean asked concernedly.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine." Angela assured unconvincingly.

Sam pursed his lips, not quite believing his wife. "I was just saying we got nothing. No one saw anything unusual going on at the house the day the baby disappeared."

"More cookie, dada?" Grace looked up at her father.

"Uh-uh, Peanut, no more cookies." Sam chuckled.

"If this truly is the Darkness, we're talking about, it's more of a time bomb than a baby," Castiel commented.

"Yeah, but it's still a baby, right?" Angela's brows furrowed. "I mean, the Darkness I saw was an adult. So, it still has to, uh, grow up."

"The Darkness is almost infinite power," Castiel replied. "I'm not sure what 'growing up' means in this case."

"Well, God kicked this thing's ass once before, right?" Sam asked curiously.

"Yeah, it'd be nice if he put down the Mai Tai and show up for work." Dean scoffed loudly.

"I wouldn't count on it," Castiel muttered.

"It's possible he's around." Sam shrugged. "Closer than we think, you know?"

"What makes you say that?" Angela questioned her husband.

"I believe he made a fairly definitive statement when he walked away," Castiel noted as he stood up, causing the shackles to jingle.

"Sorry about those, Cas." Dean apologized. "Till we know what's going on with you, you're still a bit of a wild card, you know?"

"I hate to point this out." Sam started. "But you all know who we might need to help deal with the Darkness."

"Don't even say it," Angela warned firmly.

"He was God's scribe. He did hear about everything." Sam rationalized.

"That's just like saying that." Angela shook her head. "Cas, you alright, hon?" she asked in concern as the angel started convulsing.

"It's the spell." Castiel groaned in pain.

"We were hoping your angel wiring would fight it off or… slow it down at least." Sam muttered.

"It appeared I simply respond differently from humans," Castiel observed.

"If you were human, you'd be gone. With you, it's like it's digging deeper." Dean noted.

"You know, Rowena's the only one who can remove it." Sam sighed heavily.

"We're doing everything to find her, okay?" Angela assured. "But, so far, we got nothing."

"Well, it's getting worse," Sam whispered.

~/~\~

Angela was on the phone and paced, clearly annoyed that Crowley wasn't answering. Sam, Dean, and Castiel watched from the table.

"Come on, Crowley." Angela groaned. "Pick up. I've left you a dozen messages. Why isn't he answering the phone?"

"Because he's a dick, baby, and that's not breaking news," Sam replied.

"He's gotta have Rowena in his sights, right?" Dean asked curiously. "I mean, she did try to take him out."

"He's not gonna deliver Rowena to us just so she can lift the spell," Castiel replied. "He'd rather let it do whatever it's gonna do to me."

Grace crawled off her father's lap and stumbled over to her mother, lifting her arms up. "Up, Mama, up!"

Angela picked Grace up and rested the toddler on her hip. "He's gotta be up to something."

"Yeah." Sam agreed. "Again, not breaking news. Metatron is also off the grid." He added before looking over at Castiel. "He stole your car in Blaine, Missouri, right?"

"Yeah," Castiel confirmed.

"Yeah, uh, no accidents, incidents, violations, or anything remotely interesting involving a crappy '78 Continental Mark V," Sam explained with a shrug.

Castiel frowned deeply, clearly offended. "You think it's crappy?"

"Eye of the beholder," Dean muttered.

"Yeah." Sam agreed.

"Don't listen to them, Cas." Angela rolled her eyes as she sat down and set Grace in her lap.

"A shut-in for centuries, former scribe of God. You wouldn't think he would be a good driver." Castiel shook his head.

"You know what? I'll look for unusual occurrences at places he might hang out." Sam replied. "Cas?"

"Places Metatron might hang out," Dean repeated, frowning in concern at Castiel.

"Um… I mean, he loves waffles." Castiel recalled. "You could try places that have those."

"Okay, so every restaurant in the entire country," Angela muttered. "Cas?"

Suddenly, Castiel started groaning in pain and fell out of his chair.

"Aah!" the angel yelled as he convulsed violently.

"Cas? Cas, hey!" Dean stood up and ran over to Castiel. "Easy! Easy! Cas?!"

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Angela were leaning over Castiel, who had fallen out of his chair from the effects of Rowena's spell. Angela held Grace on her hip.

"Cas?" Sam asked concernedly. "Hey. Are you okay?"

"Relative to what?" Castiel retorted.

"You know where you are? What's the date?" Angela questioned the angel.

"Earth. Several billion years from the beginning." Castiel answered.

"Come on, buddy. Come up." Dean lifted Castiel up off the ground into a sitting position.

"It's like I was… inside a blender that was set to puree for a tomato salsa." Castiel muttered.

"And you're the tomato?" Dean tilted his head.

"In this analogy, yes." Castiel nodded.

"Yeah." Dean pursed his lips.

"Cas, what was that?" Sam's brows furrowed. "You scared the crap out of us."

"I blacked out for a lot of it. But I… I don't know." Castiel shook his head. "It overwhelmed me. I-I couldn't control it."

"Let's get him up," Dean told Sam. "Come on, come on. Here you go. We gotta find that witch."

"Yeah." Sam and Angela greed.

"What can I do to help?" Castiel grunted.

"No, no, no, you just, uh, sit there and take a breather, try and put yourself back together," Angela instructed.

"Okay." Castiel conceded. "I'll do my best. It's… It's difficult with these voices."

Sam's brows furrowed in concern. "Now there are voices?"

"Are these voices telling you to hurt someone?" Dean stepped back cautiously.

"No." Castiel shook his head. "I'm—I'm hearing angel radio. It's a lot of chatter. They're… They've been looking for me ever since I escaped, as well as scouring the Earth for the perp." He explained, earning confused looks from the hunters. "It's slang for 'perpetrator.'"

"Ah." Dean pursed his lips.

"Yeah, thank you." Angela chuckled. "Um, a-any… 'perp' in particular?"

"Metatron," Castiel answered. "They're doubling the effort to find him, so… If we need to get hold of him, we better do it soon."

"Yeah, before the God squad does." Dean sighed. "Alright, well, first things first."

"Listen to this," Sam started as he looked at his laptop. "Maybe something here. Uh, in Denver, three women were at this Café Elta, when their waiter, for no apparent reason, stabbed and killed one. One survived and the third vanished after furniture seemed to slide around by itself. What do you think?"

Angela pulled out her phone with her free hand and dialed. "Hi, who's your lead on the Café Elta investigation?"

~/~\~

Denver, Colorado

Sam, Dean, and Angela walked into the police headquarters, dressed in their FBI apparel. Sam carried Grace as they walked into the interrogation room, where one of the women who met with Rowena was being held in.

"Thanks," Angela told the officer.

"Agents, here you go." The officer replied.

"We got it. Yep." Dean replied before the officer left, shutting the door behind him.

"Hello." Sam greeted the woman.

"So, ladies lunch goes south when a waiter, who reeks of sulfur, attacks with a blade, killing one of you, while the redhead who invited you yells something in Latin, disappears and the furniture forms a pile." Dean recapped. "That about right?"

"Uh-huh." The woman nodded.

"Any idea why a demon would wanna attack three witches?" Angela interrogated.

The woman shifted in her chair slightly. "I-I don't know what you're talking about."

"Right." Sam pursed his lips. "The waiter was possessed by a demon assassin who was gunning for Rowena, since she tried to kill her son Crowley, who just so happens to be the King of Hell."

"Why do I think you're not FBI like the police said?" the woman narrowed her eyes skeptically.

"Let's cut to it," Angela started. "The cops say that you're so scared, you don't wanna leave here. Well, you should be, 'cause Crowley's not only going after Rowena, he's going after every witch that she hangs with."

"I-I'm no witch." The woman stammered.

"Sure, you are. And your pal Rowena, she's recruiting a new coven. Hmm?" Dean raised his brows.

"You can't do this. I have rights." The woman retorted.

"And I have a fake badge." Dean winked.

"Look at this," Angela started as she dumped out the contents of the woman's purse. "Chicken bones. Hex bags. A pentagram."

"Still sticking with, uh… Not a witch?" Sam quirked a brow.

"Abite, ab oculis meis—

"Ah, ah, ah, ah." Dean stopped her. "Listen, before you finish what you're about to say, know that we are the only thing between you and Crowley's ninjas."

"But I didn't try to hurt him." The woman reasoned. "I mean, I am nobody. I-I'm worse than nobody. I-I'm nobody's third cousin who doesn't even get invited to dinner."

"We don't care." Sam retorted. "We just need to know where Rowena is."

"I have no idea." The woman replied honestly.

"But you do know how to scry, is that right?" Angela questioned.

The woman's brows furrowed slightly. "Scry? What's that?"

"Exactly what you know it is," Sam replied. "A locating spell. When you witches use crystals and then prisms and mirrors to divine images of who you're trying to find."

"We're trying to get our hands on Rowena," Angela added. "Okay, now with her out of the picture, Crowley has no reason to go after you. You got it?"

"I don't have my crystals." The woman sighed heavily.

Dean picked up a cosmetic mirror from her bag. "Oh. Well… This ought to work, huh? I'll get the light."

"Ostende mihi illum quem quaero." The woman chanted. "I see her. She's packing a bag."

A/N: Hey, guys, I hope you liked this chapter! Let me know what you think ;) Love y'all, xoxo.

~Emily