Final chapter!
Like something out of a nightmare, there was no escaping the swarm of spiky metal balls as they crawled steadily on towards the exhausted Winchesters.
The first one reached Sam's right leg. He just managed to scrape it off with his left boot, when a second one began cutting in to his ankle, slicing as easily as a chainsaw through butter.
Sam cried through gritted teeth as a couple more began to attack his knee cap, prizing it open like they were shucking oysters. Blood loss, shock and an overflowing shit-bucket of trauma were finally taking hold; his body began to shake uncontrollably. Goddamn it, he'd survived two vicious encounters with these Little Fuckers, but the third was the one that would see him off.
He looked over at his brother. Still unable to breathe, Dean was barely fighting off his own spiny horde. Sam's heart ached to see the fight going out of his usually hot-blooded brother.
He reached out with his left hand, trying to grab hold of Dean for one last bit of contact before their gruesome end. As he did so, the one crawling up his arm began to convulse, spikes twitching a strange dance before disintegrating.
He looked around, confused. Was he hallucinating? No...no, they were all doing it...all the Little Fuckers were losing their spikes and flaking into a metallic dust. What the hell?
Almost on the edge of passing out, Sam struggled and squinted to see what was happening.
There, entering the dining room like the boss of all bosses was oh-my-god-thank-god Castiel! This time Sam actually did shed a tear in relief. With wet, blurry vision he saw an orange glow radiating from Cas's body and his normally blue eyes shone yellow-gold. He was hard to look at, the color and intensity was ferocious.
Sam shielded his face against the brightness as Cas came closer. "D…." he was trying to speak, to ask Cas to help Dean, but his jaw wouldn't move. Cas reached down and the luminous glow covered Sam like a soft, warm blanket. He could feel the bones in his face painlessly knitting back together. The intense throbbing in his torso, the gouges in his fingers, his sickening concussion, they all receded as the healing light touched them.
As soon as Sam was able to move, he urgently grabbed hold of Cas's arm. "Help Dean...he can't breathe!"
Tendrils of orange flame curled away from Sam as Cas immediately stepped over to Dean.
As soon as Castiel touched Dean's chest, his brother took a shuddering deep breath. It took sixty more seconds of glow time before Dean was able to jump to his feet and hug the angel in a fierce death grip.
"Cas...how?" Dean asked, as the angel tried to untangle himself.
"You were all but dead!" Sam said. Cas was still hard to look at, but Sam could get over his eyes watering - he'd never been so glad to see anyone in his life.
"I was very near death," Cas agreed. "If I'd been kept anywhere but the roof space, or if the warding had held for much longer…"
"How are you so ok? And what's with the orange?" Dean asked, waving a finger around Cas. Cas looked down, noticing for the first time the strange aura radiating from him.
"This isn't easy for me to say." Cas looked deeply upset. Messing with the fundamental essence of an angel was a gross violation. "The warding toxified my grace, causing my body to expel it. The spell work then converted the extract into some kind of power and absorbed it, storing it. Used it like a battery it to strengthen itself. And not just my grace - two other angels died here; I was told that Haversham lured one from Heaven every couple of decades to keep the house charged."
"Bastard." Dean had no love for most angels, but Haversham's actions went beyond the pale.
"Agreed," said Cas, staring down at Haversham's mangled body with loathing.
"So how did you heal yourself?" Asked Sam. "And us?"
"With almost miraculous luck."
"Bout time we had some!" Interrupted Dean.
"When the warding ruptured, there was a pressure discharge of the stored power which passed through me as it diffused. I absorbed my grace back, plus obtained a bit extra." He pointed to the coral glow "But the excess will fade quickly."
A loud crunching noise from upstairs made them all jump. Puffs of brick dust pattered down in a fine rain.
"Oh shit, we really need to go."
The front of the doomed house was tilting badly enough that the front door had come away from its ornate frame. They stepped over it and out into the rain.
Sam took a good lungful of fresh air, enjoying the sensation of the rain on his face. Being pain free - and safe - for the first time in hours was sheer bliss.
Cas stared at the two giant holes in the walls. "You used a car to break the warding?" He said, pointing at the Ford Focus still half-embedded in the wall. "No wonder your injuries were severe."
"Yep!" Sam answered proudly. "Mine was the Range Rover. Look at the size of the hole it made!"
"Show-off," said Dean." Size ain't everything."
"Lucky for you," replied Sam.
"Bitch," said Dean.
"Oh, not this already!" muttered Cas, shaking his head.
"Yep! This already!" said Sam, laughing, half-drunk with relief. He looked at his brother and his fluorescent best friend. Not twenty minutes ago all three of them were close to death. And now? Dean was furiously trying to persuade Cas that the damage to the Focus was far more impressive than to the Range Rover. Cas was trying to look all fascinated, but Sam could see he wasn't really getting it.
He took one more moment savoring the outcome. They'd done what they set out to do and it was all over.
They could go home.
Home.
Sam couldn't wait.
So folks, that's it! A happy ending for everyone, yay! (Except for most of the bad guys of course!)
Is there anything else you guys would like me to add as an epilogue? Dean's mano a mano with Bill? Sam's soppy goodbye with Lara? Anything else? Xx
