Song Remains the Same
Chapter 37 / Sacrifice
"Your name is pounding through my veins, can't you hear how it is sung?"
- Dashboard Confessional
"The end is nigh!" The street preacher called loudly. He stood in front of a liquor store holding his bible up high above his head.
Dean hurried toward him—if he hesitated at all, he might not follow through with this.
"The apocalypse is upon us!" The preacher shouted in a voice hoarse from shouting. "The angels talk to me, and they asked me to talk to you! The apocalypse—"
"Hey!" Dean interrupted breathlessly. The preacher looked at him in surprise. "I'm Dean Winchester. Do you know who I am?"
There was shock and recognition the second he asked. The preacher's eyes widened and his mouth fell open. "Dear God!"
"I'll take that as a yes," Dean muttered, a little weirded out. "Listen, I uh, need you to pray to your angel buddies and let 'em know I'm here."
Without any further encouragement, the preacher fell to his knees in prayer, sandwiching his bible between his hands. Dean's pulse jumped up, he tried not to panic. He was really gonna do this, wasn't he? He didn't have time to think about it anymore. The preacher began to pray in a loud, impassioned voice as Dean's stomach began to churn in earnest. "Our father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name—"
"You pray too loud," growled a familiar, gravelly voice, and Dean jumped, startled at the sudden appearance of Castiel who touched the preacher and rendered him unconscious in the span of a half-second. The preacher hadn't even finished falling to the ground before Dean was realizing oh shit not good—but before he could react any further, he was grabbed hard and dragged into a nearby alley. For the second time that day, Cas slammed Dean up against a wall, this time brick, and pain exploded across Dean's already-bruised back and shoulders.
"What are you crazy?!" Dean protested even as Cas flung him to the opposite side of the alley hard. He stumbled from the force of the push, disoriented, and Cas grabbed him tightly, shoving him flat against the wall.
"How could you?!" Castiel shouted, and then reeled back and hit Dean in the face, twice, each impact of the angel's fist making pain explode. Cas grabbed Dean tightly by the collar and breathed down his neck practically, seething through bared teeth. "The angels took her because of you!"
"W-what?" Dean asked, confused, his mind suddenly ringing in a whole new kind of alarm. But Castiel didn't explain, he flung Dean to the other side of the alley, blinded by rage. He hit Dean in the stomach, once, twice—and it was like being struck by a mallet. "Cas! Please!" Dean begged, blood seeping out of his mouth.
"No!" Cas snarled, throwing him to the other side of the alley then grabbing him tightly, his face inches from Dean's. "You don't deserve mercy," he spat. "Not after what you've done, what you were about to do!" He shook Dean angrily. "I gave everything for you!" Cas raged. "And you give me this?! You betray us all!?" He stared at Dean venomously, and his low voice trembled. "If she dies because of what you've done…" he trailed off, too angry to finish his sentence.
He dragged Dean away from the wall with one hand then drew back and hit him hard in the face, sending him stumbling and falling backward. Relentless, Cas steadily bore down on the stumbling man and then kicked him hard. Dean flew back, hitting the chain link fence several feet up from the ground, before he slammed back down.
On the ground, Dean heard footsteps and he cringed, anticipating that Cas's strong hands would grab onto him again, drag him up, and beat him some more. The footsteps stopped. Nothing happened. Struggling, he looked up to see Cas looking down at him with cold fury written all over his features. "Tell me why I shouldn't lay you to waste right here and now," the angel hissed.
Dean panted, every inch of his body reverberating with so much pain. "I-I got nothing," he replied weakly, honestly. Coughing and gagging on his own blood, he could barely hold himself up.
Cas gazed down on him with revulsion and disgust. His fists were clenched tightly, he looked like he were holding himself back. Dean realized Cas really was going to kill him—no ifs ands or buts. And maybe, he thought, maybe he deserved it. Maybe this was the way it was supposed to end. He was just so done with everything, so filled with guilt over his failures. He couldn't fight anymore and he didn't want to. "Do it," he told Cas faintly, begging him almost. And when the angel didn't move, Dean's voice raised several octaves. "Just do it!" he shouted. His vision swam, he blinked rapidly, and Castiel looked at him long and hard… then unclenched his fist, relenting.
"No," the angel said, as if he were tired, weary, defeated.
What? Baffled, Dean opened his mouth to protest, to ask why. But Cas reached out with surprising gentleness, touched the other man's shoulder… and the world went pitch black.
"Adam did this to you?" Sam demanded, trying to examine the bruising cut on Bobby's temple, but the older man batted him away, annoyed.
"Like I told you, one second he's asleep, the next he's in my face with a lamp and it's lights out." Bobby paused grimly. "No pun intended."
"So what, Alex went after him or what?" Sam demanded impatiently, his voice filled with rising panic.
"I don't know, Sam—" Bobby tried to explain.
Sam lost his temper. "Bobby what the hell! They could be anywhere!"
"Watch your tone, boy!" Bobby said, trying to stay calm but just barely succeeding. "We'll find them."
The room was suddenly swept by a gust of wind that scattered papers wildly. "No we won't." Cas stood there supporting an unconscious, bloody Dean. The angel's face was held rigidly in a harsh expression, he looked almost ill. "The angels took them."
"Angels?" Sam repeated in horror, then thoroughly looked at his bloody, beaten brother. "And what the hell happened to him?"
Cas returned Sam's alarmed, questioning look with a dark glance. "Me." He half-shoved, half-handed Dean at Sam, who caught him fumblingly.
"What do you mean, the angels took them?" Bobby asked in rising concern. Castiel was looking at one of the study chairs oddly as Bobby continued. "They were hidden!"
"Adam... must have tipped them off," Cas said, distracted and gruff. He walked over to the chair and picked up the jacket that was laid there—it was Alex's. His expression was unreadable as he silently looked at the garment in his hand.
"How?" Bobby demanded, trying to understand.
"I don't know," Cas said, and his grip tightened measurably on Alex's discarded jacket, his eyebrows stitched together. "I don't know," he repeated, louder, and his voice was filled with levels of alarm and distress that Bobby wasn't used to hearing from the guy. His jaw was rigid, he finally looked at Bobby. "Maybe in a dream." His eyes swept back and forth over the floor near his feet in deep thought, he looked at the jacket again, hesitated, and then put it back, becoming determined. He drew his weapon. Sam's face went cold when he saw the blade gleam. Cas glanced at Bobby and Sam in turn, and his face was full of an ominous quality. "All I know is that I have to find them, now."
"Where do you think the angels—" Sam started, but Cas disappeared with another mighty gust of wind. "Cas!" Sam shouted in protest, but the angel was gone. Not knowing what else to do, Sam dumped Dean down onto the cot, shook him by the shoulders, and then smacked him in the face, even though his cheek was bleeding and his lip was split. "Wake up," he growled, slapping Dean again, who suddenly sputtered to life and protested: "Ow, ow!"
"Dean you fucking moron!" Sam shouted, pushing Dean down by the shoulders.
"Wha—" Dean seemed dazed, unsure of where he was for a second.
"Hey take it easy—" Bobby tried.
"The angels have Alex and Adam!" Sam thundered, standing up, removing himself from proximity to Dean before he punched his brother in his already fucked up face face. The confusion in Dean's eyes cleared. His expression became alarmed and he sat up, groaning pathetically in pain, looking at Bobby and then Sam, not understanding.
"T-the angels? How?" Dean asked, panting and holding a hand against his side.
"I don't know how," Sam retorted, "all I know is that they do."
"Shit," Dean swore softly, and put his head in his hand. "Shit! This is my fault."
"You're damn right it is, Dean!" Sam raged at full volume. "I could break your nose right now!"
Dean attempted to make a face, but he ended up looking faintly ashamed. "Yeah well Cas might have already done that for you," he looked around, face twisted in pain. "Where is he, anyway?"
"He went to go find them."
"Alone?" Dean asked, eyes widening.
Sam scoffed contemptuously. "What, you wanna head up the rescue effort?"
"It's kinda my fault they got taken, Sam!" Dean exclaimed, to which his brother rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, exactly," Sam muttered, then seemed to get a second wind of anger. "I mean what the hell Dean?! I go downstairs and find Cas blasted away and Alex unconscious and bleeding on the floor?! How could you do that? I should cuff you to the damn house at this point! Have you lost your mind?!"
"I don't…" Dean almost sounded near tears, which was rich. "...I don't know."
Sam took in an angry breath, his shoulders were tense and his jaw was clenched, he looked like he might, quite literally, explode.
Bobby, who had wheeled over to his refrigerator, was coming back with a bag of frozen peas sitting in his lap. "Calm down Sam, ain't no use to lose your head right now," he chided in that quiet but firm way he had. Sam visibly struggled to control his temper. "'S done is done," Bobby reasoned, but he didn't look too happy with Dean either.
Bobby handed over the frozen vegetable bag to Dean, who accepted it shamefacedly and put it against his swelling cheek anyway. His shoulders hung in defeat. "We gotta get them outta there," he said quietly.
"Wherever there is," Sam retorted stiffly, crossing his arms. The three men exchanged loaded glances. All they could do was wait for Cas to come back.
They weren't at Bobby's anymore, she knew that much, but it was so bright and she couldn't see anything—Alex blinked a couple times, trying to get her eyes to work as she also attempted to remain standing on two feet. There was an odd feeling like she'd lapsed in time, like she'd been stuck somewhere. Like it was later than she remembered it being. Like she was on some kind of crazy drug bender. It was a strange, bad sensation. Last thing she remembered, she had been standing in the study, holding Adam down on the ground… and then the whole place had been enveloped by a blinding white light.
She heard someone shifting near her, and her eyes began to adjust. Adam was laying near her feet, groaning. "Where are we?" he asked, squinting as he rolled himself onto his side, as disoriented as she was.
Alex looked around again through normalizing vision—she saw serene paintings framed by fancy gilded frames lining the walls, fancy little statuettes and vases dotting the surfaces of the ornate side tables pushed against each opposite wall. A plush couch sat across from a large dining table… and Alex felt the blood drain out of her face when she realized where they were. The beautiful room—the beautiful room—the same one that she and Dean had been trapped in when Sam had been breaking the final seal to release Lucifer. Panic swelled in her chest. No no no. What's happening? Why are we here? Beside her, Adam was getting up woozily.
"Damn," he commented, holding his jaw gingerly, looking around at where they were. "Did you have to hit me that hard?" he complained.
"Shut up," Alex whispered urgently—which was probably stupid, angels had better senses than humans, but still. "We have bigger problems right now." She looked around frantically, but there was still no door. But on the plus side, no angels either. Yet.
Adam noticed the table in the middle of the room, piled enticingly high with hamburgers and cold beers in ice. Adam forgot his jaw and smirked, sauntering over to the table to admire the spread. "Maybe you have bigger problems, but uh, I think I'm home-free now."
"No, you're not," Alex insisted, trying one last time to get through as her idiot half-brother pulled out a chair and sat down. "Adam. Listen to me. Whatever they've told you, whatever they've said—they're lying. We gotta get out of here, now."
He didn't even look at her, just grabbed a burger and smiled down at it. "Yeah, sure. I think I'll have a burger…" he looked at her and smirked again, "care to join me?"
Alex looked at the burger mistrustfully, then at Adam in genuine concern. "I wouldn't eat anything here if I were you."
He ignored her attempts to help him. "Suit yourself, reject Barbie."
Exasperated, Alex heaved a disgusted sigh. So much for trying to help. He began to eat the burger in huge bites. He chewed loudly and Alex wanted to strangle him. Instead, she grabbed a fancy metal candelabra from off of one of the ornate wooden hutches that lined the room, held it like a bat, and swung it full-force into one of the walls, sending drywall flying in powder and chunks alike. She hacked again and again, desperately, then stood back breathlessly… and the wall was just like new the second she stopped, all the damage she'd done gone. "Fucking hell," she muttered, glaring at the wall in fear and fury alike.
Adam paused mid-chew. "What are you doing?"
"Remodeling," she snapped back. Adam seemed to think her mounting panic was entertaining.
"Now Alex—you should know that doesn't work by now," came a new voice, and Alex jumped, startled, turning to see…
"Zachariah," she said flatly. Great. Just fucking great.
Her favorite angel douchewad stood there smiling pleasantly. "Hi! How ya been?" he asked, chipper. Alex dropped the candelabra with a sullen glower, knowing her resentfully accepting her powerlessness in that exact moment. Zach grinned at her, then Adam. The angel seemed pleased. Beyond pleased. "So good to see you again! I was afraid we left things on a bad note last time!" If looks could kill, Zachariah would have been dead under Alex's glare. He unclasped his hands from behind his back and chuckled, shaking his finger at Alex in good humor. "Imagine my surprise when I find out Adam here gets picked up by your beau Castiel and that he takes the kid straight to you! I couldn't have planned it better. Well. Maybe if Sam had been there too. That would have been A plus plus!"
"What do you mean?" Adam asked, puzzled by the angel's excited ramblings.
Zachariah suddenly looked sideways, narrowed his eyes, as if he were listening to something. His expression became odd. "Uh… sorry… can you excuse me for a minute? Seems like we've gotten some unexpected company outside."
He disappeared into thin air.
"What's he mean?" Adam asked.
Short on patience, Alex glared at him sideways, her arms crossed tightly. "What, about you and me or about unexpected company?" she asked. And then, at that moment, she realized what Zach had meant about both. Her stomach suddenly turned on its side and she felt her face fall, her arms uncross slowly. "This is a trap, Adam," she said, her voice made soft in shock. "This is a trap for Dean."
Adam shook his head, made a face. "No… no way. The angels said—"
She lost it. "Who cares what they said!" She shouted, barreling over to him. "Listen to me!" She grabbed him by two fistfuls of his shirt and shook him, yelling. "I am telling you the truth! These assholes are using us! They're nothing but a bunch of cutthroats and liars!" He stared at her without moving, sort of fearfully, and Alex shoved him back into the chair. Maybe he was finally going to listen to her.
He straightened himself guardedly, looked at her with growing doubt. "Y-you don't know that," he said lamely.
Alex could have punched a wall, she could have kicked his teeth in, she was so angry at how helpless and stuck they were, how stupid he was. She managed to say nothing, beginning to pace instead. This was a trap, it had to be. Of course Adam wasn't Michael's vessel, those slimy angels had lied to him and were using him for their grandest plan—crap, and not just him, her too—bait to get Dean here to say yes. What did Zachariah mean? Was Dean out there right now saying yes to save her and Adam? Completely out of coherent thoughts, Alex grabbed a vase and threw it at the wall with an angry shriek. The glass shattered all over the floor.
"Good job," Adam muttered, appearing more reluctant by the second. He didn't seem to have an appetite anymore.
"Shut it," Alex snapped at him, trying to think, trying to think.
In the dark warehouse Castiel stood in a wide stance, facing the angel who stood in front of the entrance to the beautiful room.
"Hello, Castiel," said the other angel, his blade at his side, gleaming in the low light. He had dark hair, fair skin, and almond eyes. Cas knew him.
"Eliphaz," Castiel acknowledged lowly. His blade was at his side, too.
"This seems like a bold move," Eliphaz said, gazing at Cas with cold calculation. "Coming here alone. Where is Dean Winchester?"
Castiel glared at him unflinchingly. "Move aside."
The other angel blinked once. "I'm sorry. Only Dean Winchester is permitted to enter this room. No one else."
Castiel took a step closer. "I won't ask again."
"Neither will I," Eliphaz warned, his gaze clouding. "Leave. Now."
In answer, Castiel advanced on him, and Eliphaz suddenly disappeared. Where did he—Cas whirled a hundred and eighty degrees, barely stopping Eliphaz's blade with his. The clang of the blades clashing echoed loudly in the musty warehouse, and the two warriors struggled for a moment, then broke apart, standing away and circling each other.
"Look at you, Castiel," Eliphaz murmured with narrowed eyes. "I didn't believe the rumors until now. You've changed." He wrinkled his nose just slightly. "You reek of humanity."
They continued to circle each other slowly and watchfully. "Better that than the stench of corruption," Cas replied, and Eliphaz's face twisted into a snarl, he lunged forward and slashed at Castiel's torso—Cas jumped back, narrowly avoiding being harmed, he recovered and slashed his blade too, sending Eliphaz back into a bend to avoid getting cut across the neck. Using the moment to his advantage, Cas arced his blade downward at Eliphaz's chest, but the other angel stopped Cas's blade a fraction of an inch away from his chest by grabbing hold of Castiel's wrist with his free hand. Eliphaz's blade streaked down through the air at Cas at the same time that he stopped Cas's attack. Cas barely caught him by the wrist... not before the blade had sunk into Cas's shoulder by a few inches.
There was a cry of pain and Castiel realized it was himself making the sound—Eliphaz was slowly grinding the blade deeper into his shoulder, hitting against bone. And the two angels wrestled, strength against strength, Grace against Grace, Cas just barely holding the other angel back. Eliphaz was right, he had changed… he was weaker, he was slower. But he also had something driving his actions that no other angel in Heaven or Earth had. Her. His Alex. He would do anything within his power for her, and perhaps even more. Somehow, when he pictured her face in his mind, he felt himself finding new strength—and with a grunt of effort, he watched Eliphaz's face gather confusion even as Cas pushed his opponent's wrist away from himself slowly. With it came the blade, the tip bright red with blood.
Blue light shone out of the wound in his shoulder—but despite that, Cas felt his strength soaring, felt his blood singing with a new resolve. He raised his foot and kicked Eliphaz hard in the stomach, and the other angel flew backward, halfway across the warehouse. Even as he hit the ground, he was getting back onto his feet, holding his blade in front of him at a ready stance… but as he had righted himself, Cas seized the small window of opportunity, drew his blade back and sent it flying straight at the other angel. The sword plunged into Eliphaz's chest. Shocked, Eliphaz looked down at himself, then up—Castiel was suddenly right there in front of him. Eliphaz's hair blew back with the speed at which Cas had moved across the distance between them. Castiel grabbed the hilt of his blade. "You should have moved aside when I told you to," he said lowly, and drove the blade all the way in—blue light exploded from Eliphaz's eyes and mouth, he screamed, and Castiel yanked out his blade. Eliphaz fell down dead, and the outline of spidery black angel wings spread out beneath him on the dirty concrete floor. Black feathers fluttered through the air.
Castiel looked down on the angel he used to call brother, realizing how far his feet had led him from the path he used to follow. Sadness shimmered through him. Cas turned when he heard the sound of slow, steady clapping. Zachariah stood there, and behind him were six more angels. "Nice, I give it a nine outta ten, Cas!" he said of the fight that had just transpired, and Castiel narrowed his eyes. "So! What brings you by?" Zachariah asked, acting pleasant, putting his hands on his hips.
Castiel's gaze swept over the angels behind Zachariah. He recognized them all. "You know why I'm here," Castiel replied darkly, refocusing on Zachariah. "Stand aside."
"Mm…" Zachariah feigned thoughtfulness, touched his chin in contemplation. "No." He looked at Cas's shoulder pointedly. "You don't look like you're gonna be up to much more roughhousing, to be honest with you." He chuckled, then dropped the act completely. "But enough small talk. Where's Dean?"
Cas lowered his chin, tightened his grip on his blade, and said nothing, instead looking over the angels flanking Zachariah. On his left, Daniel, on his right, Hezion. They were both skilled warriors, especially Hezion, and Castiel knew he couldn't go up against them and win. Zachariah was examining him closely. "You know, Eliphaz was right. You have changed. Guess you would, what with the kind of time you spend with the locals." He smirked knowingly at Cas.
Castiel narrowed his eyes. "Enough, Zachariah. Release the girl and the boy to me. Now."
"Yeah, sure! Of course!" Zachariah said with what seemed to be a great amount of concern, and turned to the tall, dark-haired male angel at his side. "Hezion... bring the female out here to me."
Hezion's dark gaze met Cas's for a glancing moment, he disappeared and reappeared two seconds later, holding a very confused looking Alex by the arm. On the other side of her, Daniel took hold of her other arm. The second Alex caught sight of Cas, her expression fell and she became frightened. "Cas!"
Cas's front of calm indifference was gone. He couldn't hold himself back from tracing a couple of steps closer to her. "Are you all right?" he asked, unable to hide his anxiety. "Have they harmed you in any way?"
Zachariah chuckled and took a few steps Cas's way, his hands clasped behind his back. "Oh, we haven't, but we will."
"It will be the last thing you do," Cas threatened, to which Zachariah laughed good-naturedly and turned back around, looking at Alex as if she were his prized pet. She looked back at him with contempt.
"You know, Alex," Zachariah said thoughtfully, casually sauntering over to her, "you doesn't look much like your mother… quite frankly I don't know what trench coat over there sees in you but... maybe you're the same sorta gal…" he brushed Alex's hair back from the front of her shoulder, revealing the skin of her neck, he ran his fingers along the curve of her neck slowly, "...deep down inside." Alex's face twisted up in disgust.
Castiel bristled immediately and stepped forward. Behind Zachariah, all of the angels raised their blades just slightly in warning. Cas stopped short, torn and unable to move closer, unable to move away. Zachariah chuckled, stroking Alex's arm now, his touch distinctly sensual. He looked back at Cas in amusement as Alex tried not to give him the pleasure of her reaction. The angels holding her were different: Daniel's expression was stoic, but Hezion looked at Zachariah sidelong, mildly troubled.
Cas's shoulders heaved up and down, he could barely control himself. "Geez, take a chill pill there, fella!" Zachariah mocked, making a face and removing his hand from Alex. "I'm just messing with you. She's not even my type!"
"Taking her will the the worst choice you ever made, Zachariah," Castiel told the other angel in no uncertain terms.
Zachariah looked amused and was now reaching into his jacket. Out came his shining blade and Castiel froze, his breathing stopping for a minute. What was he going to do with that? "You aren't exactly in a position to be making threats, Castiel," Zachariah chided, examining his blade with what appeared to be great interest. "Tell you what. You leave, bring back the oldest Winchester… the girl lives. You keep making trouble here…" Zachariah swept the blade upward, pressing the length of it against the side of Alex's neck, "the girl dies."
Castiel desperately looked at the angels who held Alex. He knew Hezion and Daniel—he knew all of these angels—and yet they all looked at him as though he were despicable to them, as if they were above him completely. Zachariah was waiting for Castiel to respond. Cas remained still, unsure of what to do, trying to keep his wits about him, trying to maintain an outward mask of scorn and authority despite his inner panic. "You won't kill her, she's too valuable to you," he said, hoping he was right. His mind was racing, calculating. His shoulder hurt, he was weakened. But he had to rescue her. She was so close and yet so far out of reach.
Zachariah grabbed Alex's arm from Daniel and yanked her to the front of himself, holding his blade tighter against Alex's neck and as he did, Cas's entire body tensed to the point of snapping in half. "You really wanna test me?" He asked, soft and serious. "Step away, Cas. Bring Dean here, nice and easy, and then your precious little human pet stays alive."
Cas didn't move at all, he couldn't. He stared at Alex, who was looking back at him with wide eyes, and she shook her head slightly—to which Zachariah suddenly slashed his blade across the side of her neck lightly, enough to draw blood without being fatal. Alex inhaled sharply in surprise or pain. Cas stepped forward without even thinking, and Zachariah looked at him with eyebrows raised high, his blade at Alex's throat. Cas's hand was forced. Cas took several steps back, feeling murderous and sickened all at once. Zachariah shoved Alex back at Hezion, who held her still with both hands.
"Good boy," Zachariah told Cas, even as Alex began to struggle.
"Don't bring Dean here Cas, please, just keep him away!" she begged. Hezion tightened his grip on her, and she made a soft sound of pain. Hezion looked at Cas with an unreadable expression, and Daniel, blade drawn, took a step toward Cas, letting him know it was time to leave.
Breathing hard, Cas looked at Alex, filled with fear. He had no choice. Every part of him protested, knowing that he was about to willingly leave her there. It was strange, too, a feeling like permanent loss weighed on him. He felt as though he would never see her again. He looked at her and only her, holding her gaze with his. "I'll be back for you," he promised with utter finality, and she stared at him wordlessly—her eyes begging him—and against every instinct, with a great deal of pain that wasn't physical, Cas tore himself away from that place, leaving Alex behind.
Sam stood in the door frame glaring at Dean who sat on the bed, holding the bag of peas against his face pathetically. Bobby had one now too and was holding it against his slightly swollen temple. Suddenly, Cas reappeared in the middle of the study, startling them all. It had been about ten or fifteen minutes since he'd disappeared. And even as Sam stood up straight in surprise, he saw the blood splatter on Cas's shoulder, the glowing blue that emanated from the knife wound. "Cas!" Sam exclaimed, going to him. "What happened to you?"
Cas ignored the question, harrowed. "They're being held and guarded heavily in the beautiful room," he said.
"Wait, the beautiful room?" Dean asked, setting the bag of peas down.
"Yes, no thanks to you," Cas snapped at him.
Sam was trying to get a better look at the angel's wound. "Was there a fight? Are you hurt?"
"I'll be fine," Cas said, glossing over it. He was in rare form, the opposite of calm. "Listen to me, we have to go now."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Dean said, standing up. "Fly in there blind? Cas, we need a plan!"
Cas turned on him as if he couldn't believe Dean would hesitate for even a second. "We need to get them out of there!"
"Yes, I agree, but let's get a game plan together, okay?" Dean reasoned, then looked at Cas strangely. "You're not thinking straight, man. We go in there without our heads on our shoulders, we end up with an even more messed up situation. Calm down."
"I can't 'calm down' Dean! If you hadn't sent me away I could have protected them both." Dean withered under Castiel's glare and the truth of his words. "What you've done is unforgivable," Cas said gruffly, no longer looking at Dean. Shaking his head in disgusted disappointment, he glanced at Dean briefly. "I can't take you there. You'll only give in to their demands." He expelled a frustrated breath, clenched his fists, clearly holding in great amounts of anger. "This is an impossible situation."
Without warning, the study window shattered, startling everyone but Cas. Bobby looked at Cas's clenched fists and stony expression and he heaved a sigh, pushed his ball cap up an inch. "Cas, it's gonna be okay, you hear me? We'll figure this out." He looked at the shattered window and then the dented wall where Dean had been shoved earlier. "But you really need to quit wreckin' my house."
Cas seemed chastened. "I'm sorry, Bobby." He was looking down at the floor somberly. "I saw Zachariah hurt her. He... wanted me to see."
"What? Is she hurt bad?" Sam asked, his worry tripling as he uncrossed his arms and stepped away from the door frame.
Cas shook his head slowly. "No but—"
"Why would he do that?" Dean interrupted, getting more and more anxious.
"In order to manipulate me, the same way he intends to manipulate you."
"The hell you mean?" Dean demanded apprehensively.
Cas looked at Dean starkly. "He took Alex and Adam in order to lure you there. When you arrive to rescue them, he'll use them to force you to say yes to Michael."
"Son of a bitch," Dean muttered, then looked at Sam sort of accusingly. "I knew this was gonna happen! I told you! If I hadn't been such a screwhead, if I had just quit being stubborn months ago, this wouldn't have happened!"
"Well it has, so now what?" Sam countered contemptuously, then he unexpectedly laughed humorlessly.
"What?" Dean demanded brusquely.
"It's funny Dean," Sam said coldly. "The angels thought you were stronger than this. They thought they had to take Adam and Alex to force you into this... when you were just gonna wimp out and do it anyway."
"Now you listen to me—" Dean started angrily.
"We don't have time for your sibling rivalry right now," Castiel interjected harshly, drawing strange looks from the Winchester brothers. "The situation is this: your half-brother and your sister are both being held by Zachariah and guarded by at least six angels. If you stay away, Zachariah will kill one of your siblings—probably Adam—and then torture the other one until you go there. When you go there, once you say yes, I see no reason for him to keep either of them alive."
The brothers were both somber now. "So what do we do, Cas?" Sam asked faintly. "How do we save them?"
"Why can't you just beam into the USS beautiful room and grab the kids and beam back out?" Dean asked.
"I told you," Castiel reiterated. "There are angels guarding the room, and they're all very fast. One of them did this to me—" he indicated his wounded shoulder, "one of the younger, more inexperienced ones. All the others there are much older. Faster. It's… close to impossible."
"Look, I'm only seeing one option here," Dean said. "I gotta go. Now. You two come with me, maybe we can get the jump on Zachariah."
"Even if that were a possibility, how much of a fool do you take me for?" Cas questioned him.
Dean was exasperated. "Look, what if I promise you I won't say yes?"
Cas looked at Dean sullenly. "You were insistent on saying yes just minutes ago on the street, or have you forgotten?"
Dean pointed at his bloody face, deadpan. "Does it look like I've forgotten?"
Cas's expression was filled with thinly veiled contempt. "You created this catastrophe, Dean, I don't need you to make it worse."
"Look, I'm good and pissed now," Dean retorted loudly, growing insistent, walking over to Cas while staring him down. "They took my family from me and that was the worst possible move they could have made, okay?" He winced, giving away the fact that he was still in a great deal of pain. He brushed it aside, trying to convince Castiel. "I'm not giving those bastards the satisfaction of a yes now. They screwed up their chance at having this sweet ass the second they touched Adam and Alex."
Cas had grown introspective and sad, tilting his head to just the side to look at Dean hesitatingly. "You assured me that you wouldn't hurt your sister again and yet you did anyway. Why should I listen to anything you say?"
"Because I'm just as serious about saving her and Adam as you are!" Dean thundered, insulted and insistent at the same time. "If not more so!" He paused, grew bitter, then looked at Cas with a cloudy expression. "Besides, Cas, I'm not the only one who's ever broken their word around here." Both of them knew what he was referring to: Cas's romantic involvement with Alex, despite his promises to stay away.
A muscle jumped in Cas's jaw, he looked hard into Dean's eyes as his voice lowered. "You aren't in a position to be disrespectful to me."
"Guys, we don't have time for this!" Sam interjected, drawing both of the men's gazes to him. "We need to figure out a plan and get our asses to the room now."
Mildly subdued, the angel and the oldest Winchester were silent for a moment, and Dean looked at Cas quietly for a second. "Why didn't you kill me?" he asked. "Back there in the alley? Why'd you hold back, man?"
Cas's eyes jumped up to Dean's and he didn't answer for a long moment. He was appraising Dean closely. "Because she would never have forgiven me for it," Cas finally said, then looked down in reluctant thought. "And truthfully, Dean... I didn't want to. I couldn't." He looked at Dean sadly. "You are my friend. Even after everything you've done."
The study was dead silent. "Seriously?" Dean asked, taken aback.
"Yes." Cas paused, then squinted just a little bit. "...'Seriously.'"
Dean seemed to be touched by Cas's words and he just looked at the angel for a second, speechless. And then he nodded, seeming to grow empowered, as he braced himself. "All right. Let's go bust these kids outta the angel slammer."
Zachariah took Alex back into the beautiful room and Adam stood up when they reappeared and when he saw her bleeding neck.
"What happened?" he asked, seeming surprised and even a little worried. Zachariah ignored his question and came toward the table, leaving Alex to stew angrily in the far corner of the room beside an expensive-looking room divider.
"Sorry about that, sparky," Zachariah said to Adam. "Had some business to take care of. So!" He chuckled, sat on the side of the table casually, looked at the half-eaten burger on the table. "I see you and your brother Dean share the same refined palate."
"Uh..." Adam seemed uncertain how to react, looking at Alex in growing concern, his mood no longer smug and easygoing, instead uncomfortable and unsure. "Is she okay?"
"Don't worry about it," Zachariah said and indicated Adam's chair. "Have a seat."
"...sure, all right," Adam said, sinking back to the chair with mild suspicion. He stared at Alex a second longer, clearly trying to piece together what had happened. He tore his gaze away to pay attention to the angel. "So, uh… is it time?"
"For what?" Zachariah asked.
Adam looked like he was beginning to fear the worst, that what his sister had said was true. Still, he tried to hide that. "For Michael," he said simply.
"Oh!" Zachariah enthusiastically feigned remembrance. "Right. About that… look, this is never easy, but I'm afraid… we've had to terminate your position at this time."
Adam's face went cold with disbelief and betrayal.
"Hey, don't get me wrong. You've been a hell of a sport, really. Good stuff." Zachariah made the A-OK symbol with his hand. "But the thing is, you're not so much the 'chosen one' as you are…" Zachariah smiled pleasantly, "hmm, a clammy scrap of bait!" He grinned at that point. "In fact, I wouldn't even go so far as to call you that. For their sister, oh, the boys will come running. For you? I dunno. But, doesn't hurt to be on the safe side." He chuckled. "If there's one thing Dean Winchester can't resist, it's saving family." He looked at Adam and shrugged humbly. "Shoulda listened to your sister, turns out."
There was a low chuckle and Zachariah turned around. "What's so funny, Alex?"
She looked at Adam mockingly. Her arms were crossed and her face held no emotion but contempt. "Just... why'd you even bother to bring him here? He's not real family. Sam and Dean will want me. Not this illegitimate douche bag." She gave Zachariah a cold little smile. "Could've saved yourself some trouble."
Zachariah stood up from his seat on the table, turned on his heel, and came to her. "Huh," he said in deep interest. "So that's really how your family feels about him?" He sighed dramatically. "Then I guess there's no reason to keep him around." He was animated, as if he had a great idea. "I guess I'll just let him go free and clear!" He looked at Alex and chuckled darkly. "I'm just kidding, of course. Nice try though. I'll put him back in the ground, good and dead."
He turned around, took a couple steps toward Adam—and Alex wasn't willing to hold her bluff. "No—don't."
Zachariah turned around, looked at her with a triumphant little smile. "That's what I thought. Nice try though, Alex. Gold star for effort." He seemed well pleased with himself and held his arms wide, indicating them both. "I mean, how can Dean resist? It's two for the price of one! And call me crazy, but it'll get him over here on the double. If it were just Adam, I bet they'd drag their feet, take all night…" he wagged a finger at her now. "Just watch. An hour, maybe two. Dean's in here, saying yes to Michael to save his precious baby sister. And the Winchester mutt too, I guess."
He looked at Adam and smiled facetiously. Adam was positively infuriated. "But you said I'm supposed to fight the devil."
The angel winced in exaggerated sympathy. "Weeelll... turns out I lied." He giggled at Adam's expression, enjoying it immensely.
Alex muttered "told you," but there wasn't triumph there. Only sadness.
"...You son of a bitch," Adam said quietly.
Zachariah put on false sympathy. "Hey, how do you think I feel? I'm the one that's got to put up with that dumb, slack-jawed look on your face. Kid, we didn't have a choice. Gotta do what I gotta do, and nothing else was working. Michael needs his vessel and he put me in charge of that." He chuckled again, but it was a nervous sound. "Talk about high pressure, am I right?" When neither of them did anything but glare, Zachariah rolled his eyes, refocused on Adam. "The Winchesters got one blind spot, and it's family, each other in particular. See, Sam and Dean, they're gonna put aside their differences and they're gonna come get the two of you, and that is gonna put Dean right here… right where I need him."
"Yeah, except… he won't do it," Alex told Zachariah. He turned to look at her. "This is a huge waste of your time, Zachariah," she said, putting every ounce of energy into sounding like she believed it. "He won't say yes."
Zachariah nodded, smiling to himself. "You wish that were true now don't you, sweetpea?" Her expression darkened. "Now that I have you, trust me… if Adam wasn't motivation enough, you sure as hell will be. I mean, did you see how your boyfriend reacted to seeing me cut you open? Dean'll do whatever I want him to do." He stood up, adjusted his suit, and drew in a deeply contented breath as Adam and Alex watched him with glares. "Yep, feels good to be back on top! This is the night! Our night. The magic finally happens, and it's all because of you two." He pointed a finger at each of them, then took in a thoughtful breath, puffing himself up. "And me. But who's keeping score?"
"You really like to hear yourself talk, don't you," Alex muttered as she uncrossed her arms, staring him down. "Well you can shut the fuck up, cuz I'm not letting this happen."
"Oh, and you'll stop me how?" Zach asked, went to her, invading her personal space and looking into her eyes deeply. She recoiled, but she was against the wall and there was nowhere to go. He smiled then, reached around behind her, slid his hand down, grasped the hilt of her hunting knife that had been hidden by her long t-shirt and flannel. She watched him pull it out and study it thoughtfully. Dammit. He wagged it at her, his eyes raised up high. "I'm impressed that you would think about taking your own life to stop this from happening, to give me nothing to hold over Dean," he told her, and she was shocked that he knew that she'd thought about it. He narrowed his eyes at her. "But would you really kill Adam, too?"
She said nothing, just stared at the angel defiantly.
He laughed cheerfully and looked at Adam. "The things this family will do for each other. I'm tellin' ya."
"Do you really feel okay about half the people on this planet biting the dust because of your stupid angel pissing match?" Alex demanded, and Zachariah returned his attention to her, made a thoughtful face.
"Mm… yeah!"
Alex could have strangled him. "Screw you."
He shocked her when he touched her face with the backs of his fingers. She recoiled from his touch. "I do have the next few minutes free, sweet cheeks," he said, smiling darkly, his voice suddenly sensual. She smacked his hand away forcefully. "What?" he feigned surprise, amused. "I thought you liked angels! That's what Castiel told me…" his voice lowered a couple notches, he smiled at her leeringly. "You are a naughty girl, aren't you?"
"Hey man, you wanna leave her alone?" Adam asked. He was standing up now with his shoulders drawn up near his ears.
Zachariah looked amused and impressed, and he stepped away from Alex. "Wouldya look at that—the trademark Winchester hero complex." Adam looked murderous and Zachariah rolled his eyes. "Calm down, kid. Geez, I'm just having a little fun."
"You let us out of here now! The deal is off!" Adam demanded, looking positively scared shitless.
"Will you cool your jets, corky? Sit down. I still need you. Two Winchesters for the price of one, remember?" Adam didn't sit down and Zachariah grew more serious. "Plus, you still get your severance, I'm not gonna go back on that. You still get to see your mom, okay?" His tone softened, became almost dangerous. "I'm being pretty damn generous right now, you really should just shut up and accept my offer."
Adam's lip curled up slightly in scorn. "Take your offer and shove it up your saggy old white ass."
Zachariah grew impatient. "You know what? I keep hearing this…" Zachariah used his hand and made a talking motion. "But what I want to be hearing is this." He closed his hand-mouth and in tandem, Adam fell forward onto the table. He caught himself with his hands as he spit up dark, red blood. "Yeah," Zachariah said, pleased. "That's better."
"Stop it, Zachariah!" Alex said, rushing to Adam and grabbing either arm, bracing him and helping him stay stable, helping him sit back down into his chair.
"Where's the fun in that?" Zachariah asked.
Filled with hatred for the angel who was currently grinning at them idiotically, Alex practically snarled. "You're a fucking disease!" she spat, and he just grinned wider.
"Yeah! I am!" he said, and suddenly Alex found herself heaving up blood too and falling sideways. "I'll leave you to it!" Zach said, then disappeared.
Adam was struggling as Alex pushed herself up to her feet, gagging on a mouthful of coppery, tangy blood. She spat onto the floor vengefully, supporting herself against the table with both hands, breathing heavily. Her head was spinning. Adam, slumped down in his chair, was looking at her in shock. His chin was covered in blood. "I told you—" Alex said, but it wasn't in a mean tone. "Angels are lying assholes. They don't give two shits about us."
Adam looked almost like he could cry. "I… I should have listened to you guys," he said, and then gagging, he made a sound like a whimper.
"Spit, okay?" Alex said, and put a hand on his shoulder. "Try and sit up a little."
He looked at her with vast amounts of uncertainty and fear. "Why are you being nice to me? After everything I've done?" His voice broke, maybe because his throat was full of blood, maybe because he was scared. "You guys told me and I didn't listen."
Alex only half heard him. She had wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and was staring at the bright red. "Wait a minute…" she whispered to herself, suddenly grinning like a fool through bloody teeth, realizing Zach's mistake. "Wait a minute," she repeated, her mind racing and excitement growing.
"What?" Adam asked.
"Spit out as much blood as you can," she told him urgently as she grabbed the bowl of beers and dumped the contents out all over the floor. She held the empty bowl out to Adam, indicating that he spit there. "We're gonna need it."
He looked at her like she was nuts. But, he did what she said.
The three of them kept a fast pace—they'd been in Bobby's study just thirty seconds ago, now they were outside somewhere following Cas.
"Where the hell are we?" Dean asked. Castiel led the way through a dark, overgrown parking lot. Beside them was a huge rusted structure, a warehouse of some kind. It was still the middle of the night.
"Van Nuys, California," Cas replied shortly. He was in a hurry, his long legs keeping a brisk stride that Dean could barely match. Maybe halfway because he hurt all over from getting beat up earlier. Sam was beside Cas, looking around suspiciously, jumpy.
"Where's the beautiful room?" Dean asked, honestly confused—all that there was some old abandoned warehouse looking building lit up by a couple flickering street lights.
"It's in there," Cas told him, indicating the building they were walking beside.
Dean balked. "...The beautiful room is in an abandoned muffler factory in Van Nuys?" he asked in a tense whisper.
"Where'd you think it was?" Cas asked churlishly. They came to the end of the building where there was a door covered in graffiti. Cas stopped, casting careful glances around. There was a single, flickering light overhead that lit the area in a pale blue cast.
"I—I don't know," Dean replied, looking at the building and definitely not associating it with the room he remembered being stuck in eight months ago. "Jupiter? A blade of grass? Not... Van Nuys."
"Never mind the location of the room," Cas said seriously, his gaze intense and first going to Dean, and then Sam. "This is very risky. Are you two clear on the plan?"
"No, not really," Dean said. "You said you'd clear out the mooks and then we go in and grab the kids, but… I thought you said before that the angels were too fast for you." He looked at the wound on Castiel's shoulder pointedly.
"They are," Cas replied matter-of-fact despite his stern expression. "But I'm going to try despite the odds. And if I can't fight them off… I have another way."
"What other way?" Sam asked, sounding very apprehensive.
Cas wordlessly began to take off his tie. "It's what you might call a long shot," he said.
"What... are you doing?" Sam asked, frowning at Cas.
Castiel handed his tie to Sam without explanation. "Hold this." Sam took it and looked at it oddly, unsure.
"What's the other way?" Dean asked, also looking at the tie suspiciously.
Castiel reached into the pocket of his trench coat and pulled a box cutter out, looked at it sort of grimly, then slid the blade up with a few plastic sounding clicks. "This may be unpleasant for you to watch," Castiel said, and began unbuttoning his shirt.
Sam and Dean exchanged a look, baffled. "Whoa Cas, what's with the peep show?" Dean asked, but Cas said nothing, just pulled his dress shirt open. Both Sam and Dean jerked backwards slightly when Castiel sliced into himself, beginning to carve the shape of a circle into the skin of his torso.
"Whoa, hey, what—" Sam fumbled, clearly not sure if he should stand and watch or stop Cas.
Dean squinted, watching silently, beginning to recognize the shape being drawn in blood. "Are you… putting an angel sigil on yourself?"
Castiel gave Dean a look that was almost sarcastic. "Yes." He then wordlessly returned to his work. There was a long silence, and the brothers looked at each other uncertainly.
"What will that do to you?" Sam finally asked, looking at Cas hesitantly.
Cas grimaced slightly as he turned the blade, pulled it upwards, cutting another line into himself. "I have no idea," he replied without stopping. "I don't think it's been attempted before. But in all likelihood, it will kill me."
Dean's expression fell. "Whoa, whoa, whoa…" he was aghast. "Cas, buddy, let's back up a sec, look at our other options…"
Cas had finished carving and looked at Dean somberly. "There are no other options, Dean." He looked at both of them in turn. "This has to work. I go in there, clear out the guards—one way or another. You go in, spring the trap, distract Zachariah, Sam kills him with the blade I gave him. There can be no errors."
"You're really gonna risk your life for us again?" Dean asked, feeling sort of dazed by what was happening, looking at Cas and feeling confused.
"Yes," Cas replied, and looked at the other man meaningfully. "Don't let me down, Dean."
After the shit he'd put the angel through, the things he'd said to him, the way he'd tried to bully Cas away from his sister… most anyone else would have ditched long ago. Dean was beginning to realize he'd misjudged Cas. And even though Dean didn't approve of the angel's relationship with his sister, he couldn't deny that Castiel cared about her deeply. Enough to maybe die for a chance to save her. And that moved Dean to speechlessness.
"Cas—" Sam protested as the angel finished buttoning up his shirt.
"We don't have time to argue," Cas said, cutting him off. "I'll do my best to hold them off, defeat them. But if I can't... if I don't return…" he looked down, his voice softening. "Tell her that I'm sorry. And Sam…" he nodded almost imperceptibly at the tie. "Give that to her."
Sam's eyebrows moved together just slightly. "Why?"
Cas said nothing, just looked at Sam tensely, and then turned his attention to Dean. "Swear to me that you will never hurt her again, Dean."
Dean swallowed, feeling strange. It was like Cas knew he wasn't coming back. His voice faltered. "I-I won't, Cas." The angel looked at him long and hard, as if he were weighing the honesty of Dean's answer. He finally glanced at Sam.
"Keep her safe," Cas said. "Both of you. Don't give in to the angels." He went to the door and put a hand on the knob.
"Cas, buddy, you're talking like you aren't gonna come back from this," Dean said, halting Cas in his tracks.
The angel just looked back at both of them one last time and then wordlessly went into the warehouse.
"I'm so stupid," Adam groaned, "I wish I'd listened to you guys."
The two of them were sitting on the floor underneath the gigantic painting of some lady draped in flowy robes. Alex held a hand over her stomach, grimacing. Zachariah had put some nasty mojo on them, that was for sure.
She leaned her head back against the wall tiredly, then looked at Adam sidelong for a minute. She needed to set something straight with him. "Hey, the shit I said about you not being family and stuff to Zachariah? I was trying to get him to let you go. Didn't mean it."
Adam looked at her then nodded through his pain. "Yeah. I know. Thanks for trying." He was trying to sound okay, but she could tell he was freaking out beneath the surface.
Alex took in a deep breath and let it out slow, looking up at the ceiling again. If she could get him to keep his head, things would go better for everyone. "We're gonna get out of here. Just remember what I told you to do."
Adam nodded and cringed, repositioning himself a little bit against the wall. "Yeah, okay I got it. If I can stand up. I feel really bad. Am I gonna die?"
"Nope," Alex replied immediately, trying to interject some humor into the situation. "You're not allowed."
That got a little smile from him.
"Dean'll be here soon," she told Adam, "and if not him, definitely Cas." She paused heavily, thought of Cas and how scared she'd been to see him there, facing down a bunch of angels all while he bled from his shoulder. And then she thought about Dean, hoping that she'd have enough time to stop him from saying yes. Her little hare-brained plan was pretty rickety, but it was better than nothing...
"But it's a trap," Adam protested, distracting her.
"They'll know that," she told him. They would.
Adam frowned. "And they'll come anyway?"
Did Adam really think there was an alternative? "Yeah. Of course."
Adam thought about that for a minute. "Must be nice to have people you know will always come for you," he said, looking down at the floor. He was introspective and quiet. "You know, I don't think I would have minded growing up with you guys," he said, then quickly tried to sound less emotional. "I mean, getting to kill stuff is cool." He paused, glanced at her. "And so is always having someone around."
"You had your mom though, right?" Alex asked, to which Adam shrugged crookedly, looking a little unwilling to discuss it. But he did so anyway after a brief silence.
"I mean. I dunno. She... wasn't around much, especially when I was school age." He looked at her, and Alex realized that maybe they were more similar than she'd assumed. "She was there but... she also wasn't. Sound familiar?" he asked, and maybe he was thinking the same thing, that they weren't as different as he'd thought.
"Yeah," she said slowly, thinking about Dad and feeling a twinge of understanding between her and Adam growing. "I'm sorry," she told Adam. She meant it. He looked at the ground glumly. Alex remained quiet a long minute. She understood loneliness. She understood wanting to be part of something you weren't part of at all. It inspired a surprising swell of compassion. Carefully, Alex reached over and let her fingers touch his shoulder for a second. Their eyes met. "Hey, when we get out of here... there's an extra seat in the Impala." Adam's expression flickered. Alex smiled almost playfully, trying to lighten the mood and be less uncomfortably serious. "I'll teach you everything I know, kid."
He matched her playful smile. "Sounds like a pretty short class," he joked.
"Pfft," Alex coughed on a laugh, tasted more blood in her mouth.
They fell silent again, waiting. Alex looked at the little angel statuette that sat on the gilded table to her left. She was trying not to think about how badly this could end. Last she knew, Dean had disappeared and blasted Castiel away to kingdom come… where had Dean run to? If he had planned to say yes, why was Zachariah holding her and Adam? Something must have happened to change his mind, or maybe… maybe Cas stopped Dean from following through. Maybe Sam found him before he got far.
Alex hated not knowing. Sitting here helpless and useless was unbearable. Cas knew where she was and had told her he would be back for her—that was all she could bank on right now. She believed him. But she hated being a bargaining chip. She really would have turned her knife on herself and killed herself if she thought it would save half of the people on the planet. But that wasn't an option anymore. There was nothing to do but sit and wait and hope.
She heaved a huge, gusty breath, trying to expel some stress.
Quietly, Castiel entered into the dim warehouse for the second time that day. The door shut behind him and he moved forward slowly into the darkness, watchful and careful. This time, he knew what he was up against. His senses were all straining, his muscles tense. He held his blade in hand. He saw no one, but knew the angels were close. He could hear their thoughts; whispers on the very edge of his mind.
He came to the small structure within the warehouse where he knew the beautiful room was and then suddenly one of the whispering voices was loud, close—and Castiel whirled, barely ducking and dodging the slash of a blade aimed for the back of his neck. Cas's hand shot out and grabbed the other angel, Enoch, by the wrist and twisted it backwards, stabbing him in the leg with his own blade. Enoch screamed even as he held on tightly to the blade and Cas yanked it out, stabbed down at Enoch's stomach. Falling down onto his back, Enoch resisted, held the blade away, but Castiel used every ounce of strength he had and put his weight behind it, rammed the blade downward into Enoch, who again screamed as the blade plunged into his vessel. His eyes and mouth filled with blue light, he collapsed dead underneath Castiel.
Cas stood up, his blade at his side, his shoulder ringing in renewed pain. He cast glances around, hearing the other angels whispering, growing closer. But they remained hidden. "You were warned not to return alone," came a deep voice, and Castiel turned quickly to see Hezion standing about twenty feet away, his blade at his side. His dark eyes glinted unreadably at Castiel. "Where is Dean Winchester?"
"Not coming," Cas replied darkly, sizing Hezion up, knowing that it would be nearly impossible for him to defeat this particular angel.
Hezion paused heavily, seeming to be let down by the information. He then raised his chin, looking at Castiel without any hint of emotion. "In that case, I've been ordered to kill you, Castiel. I'm sorry."
Castiel bristled. "You don't know the meaning of that word."
Hezion looked faintly unsure of Castiel's statement, but made no reply to it, only tossed his blade to his other hand. His eyebrows raised slightly. "I can't make promises, but I'll do my best to make it quick for your sake."
Castiel narrowed his eyes, realizing that the whispers of the angels were closer now. He glanced over his shoulder—Daniel was there, closing in slowly. Castiel turned in a small, tight circle. The other angels—Ishmael, Sabriel, Gadish, Zipporah—were all closing in, surrounding Cas on all sides. His gaze swept over them, he turned back to face Hezion, who was slowly coming closer. Cas knew that he had no chance against them if they all attacked him at once. He would have fought them to the death had they attacked one by one—but it was clear, now, what they planned to do. Outnumber him completely. Cas realized he was forced into using what he had planned as his last resort.
He thought of his promises to Alex, his assurances that he would never leave her, the commitment he had made to protect her. Guilt washed over him at the thought of him breaking his word to her, leaving her alone, perhaps forever, should this kill him.
I don't want you to leave me, she had told him tearfully just a couple days ago. You don't understand. I lose everyone. Everyone.
Her words echoed in every part of him. As did his promise to always stay.
The knowledge that he was doing this to save her was the only thing that made it possible for him to continue. This was sacrifice, and she was worthy of it. Drawing himself up to face destiny, he dropped his blade to the floor where it thudded loudly, echoing. Castiel's shoulders were heaving, he glanced between Hezion and Daniel almost angrily. "What are you waiting for?" he demanded, taunting them to come closer, then glancing to his side at Sabriel. "Come on."
And they all came rushing in, blades held high. With blazing speed Castiel ripped open his shirt and smashed his palm into the center of the sigil. He instantly erupted into blazing light, wind, and fury as the angels screamed protest.
His last thought, as everything burned to sunlight, was of her.
"What was that noise?!" Adam asked, startled.
Alex had heard it too—it had been like the sound of a high pitched explosion and a blast of wind. Her adrenaline kicked up a few notches. She shook her head tensely. "Dunno."
They looked at each other uncertainly. They were both weak and tired from the blood loss. Suddenly, one of the walls opened like a door and Dean was rushing in. Shocked at the sight of him, Alex could only stare for a second. She noticed that his face was messed up, like he'd been beat to hell and back.
"Hey. Hey," he said, coming to them urgently, dropping to a knee. "You two okay?"
"It's a trap, Dean!" Adam sputtered, trying to get to his feet and grabbing and dragging Alex up with him. Dean stood with them, his hands on their arms as he cast glances around.
"Yeah, I got that memo," he said tersely.
"Well, finally!" came a new voice, and Dean whirled around to face Zachariah, who had suddenly appeared right behind him.
"Zachariah," Dean said, standing between the angel and his siblings. "I should have known you were gonna show your ugly ass face."
"Yeah, you should have!" Zachariah said, smiling widely, looking at Dean mockingly. "Did you really think it would be that easy?"
"Did you?" Dean challenged cooly. Sam came out of nowhere at Zachariah from behind, an angel blade raised high—but Zachariah turned around at blazing speeds and knocked it out of his hand, throwing Sam against the decorative room divider.
The second the angel turned around, Alex screamed "now, Adam!"
And with what little strength he had, Adam tore the big painting they'd been sitting beneath off of the wall, revealing an angel sigil drawn in his and Alex's blood. Alex slammed her palm down onto it, turning to look over her shoulder just in time to see Zachariah's dumb, slack-jawed look of shock as he became a haze of light that burst and then disappeared completely.
The room went still into silence. Dean was shocked. On the floor, Sam stared.
Alex looked at them breathlessly. "What?" she asked at their expressions. "You think I was gonna let you say yes?" she grimaced, spit more blood out, sick to her stomach.
"I was… I was gonna kill him," Dean said lamely, like she'd spoiled his big plan and Alex just gave him a look, leaned against the table for support as Adam bent over, a hand on each knee.
Sam stood up, wincing a little, and as Alex looked at Dean, then Sam, her eyebrows drew close together. "Wait. Where's Cas?"
Sam's expression flickered and something about it seemed to strike her as foreboding. She looked at Dean for an explanation and he wouldn't look back at her. Alex looked at him with a suddenly horrible feeling. "W-where is he?" the brothers looked at each other silently, then back at her, said nothing.
"Listen, Al…" Dean went toward her, she backed up, looked at him mistrustfully, and he stopped short.
Sam, who was up now, glanced at Dean fleetingly, went to his sister and put a gentle arm around her. "Let's get outta here, huh?" he asked, looking around at the room apprehensively.
"But…" she trailed off. Normally she'd probably be pummeling him for answers, but the way he and Dean had looked at each other, the way Sam's expression had wavered when she asked where Cas was… she became blank and wordless.
"Can you walk?" Dean asked Adam, who nodded and said yeah.
Sam led his sister toward the exit of the room. Beyond it was the interior of a dark warehouse, and Alex looked up at the side of Sam's face, feeling woozier. "Sam, where is he?" she asked faintly.
"Just, let's get you outta here, okay?" Sam repeated himself, not giving her an answer, walking with her out of the beautiful room and into the dark, dingy warehouse. Why wouldn't he answer her?
And that's when Alex spotted a single, discarded, silver blade about ten feet away. Her heart dropped and she froze. Oh no. Without another thought, she tore away from Sam, staggered to the blade, and weakly dropped to her knees to pick it up. "Is... is this his?"
Sam's reluctant, grim expression was all the confirmation she needed and she looked around wildly, then back at her brother. "W-where is he?" she asked, because he couldn't just be gone...!
Sam approached her hesitantly, as if he were trying not to set her off. "We don't know. He… he made it possible for us to get you out."
Alex looked at the blade, not understanding. Feeling blindsided. Remembering, just a few hours ago, Cas's arms around her, holding her close, silently promising that they would never let her go. And now this big empty cold nothing, this blade covered in blood and Sam refusing to tell her where Castiel was. Her violent, uneven heartbeat was choking her. She looked up at Sam in shock. "Is… is he dead?" she managed just barely, clenching the blade tightly to herself.
Sam knelt down beside her, put a hand on her shoulder and was very, very gentle. "Shh, hey, hey, don't think about that. Listen. He carved an angel sigil onto himself to get rid of all the guards. So I mean, he's hopefully fine, right?"
Alex stared down at the blade in sickened silence, unable to agree with her brother for even a single second. She felt, deeper than deep, that Cas was not fine. She couldn't find words, she almost felt like she would pass out. But Sam was taking her by either arm.
"Come here, come on," Sam guided gently, standing her up. "We need to get out of here."
He helped her walk out of the warehouse. She would have no memory of how they got from the warehouse to the car they stole, such was her distress.
The two angels stood on the deck of an expensive yacht at sunset. They stood at the railing, side by side in silence. The boat was still, idling on a gentle tide. Zachariah cleared his throat nervously, glancing over Michael. Here, in some rich dead guy's Heaven, Zachariah saw Michael as who he had last been—John Winchester from 1979. And he didn't look happy. He had his hands clasped together on the railing, and even though he leaned casually, his hands were tight enough that the knuckles were whitened. "So, yet again, Zachariah," Michael finally said. "You've failed to obtain my vessel."
"Dean's... just not cooperating," Zachariah said hesitatingly, choosing his words carefully, deeply afraid that he would be fired, literally, for his failures. "Believe me boss, I tried, I did, but I'll do better next time, just—"
"Save your simpering for another day, Zachariah," Michael told him bluntly. He glared out at the ocean for a moment. "Didn't I tell you this was your final chance?"
"Yes," Zachariah replied faintly, trying to think of a way to get out of this, but realizing that there really wasn't one. He was probably as good as dead now. Michael was pissed. As soon as Zachariah had recovered from being blasted away by that bitch Alex Winchester, Michael had pulled him here against his will. This was not good.
"Listen," Michael said finally. "I prefer to do things by the book. You know that. But I recognize that time is short and my options are all but nonexistent." He paused and looked over at Zachariah levelly. "Dean is stubborn. More stubborn than we thought. And now that you let our only leverage over him get away… we have even less to work with than we did before."
Zachariah watched Michael nervously. This felt like the prelude to an ass kicking.
"We're running out of time," Michael continued levelly, spreading his hands wide over the railing as he looked over the tranquil ocean again. "Lucifer is close to obtaining his vessel—very close. I need mine. I trusted you with an important task, Zachariah. And you've let me down."
Zachariah wasn't too proud to beg, and he realized now was the time. "Gimme one more chance, Michael. I'll, I'll—" Zachariah recoiled under Michael's sidelong restrained glare. "We—we offer to bring his mom back, his dad," Zachariah fumbled, trying to prove himself useful, trying to think of anything. "I can get the sister again, maybe even one or both of the brothers!"
"Can you?" Michael challenged stoically. "As I recall, you tried and failed for months to do that. You had them for, what, the span of a few small hours today before you lost them again. No." Michael raised his chin a little, looking down his nose at the other angel. "And besides. Dean resisted you the last time you reduced his siblings to bleeding lumps on the floor," he pointed out, reminding Zachariah of when he'd tricked the Winchesters into going to their father's old storage building. Zachariah had made all three of them suffer, had practically killed Sam, but Dean had still said no. Michael looked at Zachariah patronizingly. "Why did you think the same tactic would work this time?"
"I mean, I thought that I could—" Zachariah began.
"Dean Winchester is a wasted labor," Michael cut in sharply. "Even if you hadn't been blown away by the two youngest ones, do you really think he would have said yes? I've grown tired of his refusals to cooperate, his game of hide and seek. I don't have time for it any longer."
Zachariah remained silent, unsure if saying anything else would help or harm him. He was completely at Michael's mercy right now and felt the scales tipping steeply against his favor. "I'm going to give you one final chance, Zachariah. If you do what I say, you'll be rewarded. If not, you'll be stripped of every power you've ever had."
Zachariah tried not to wince under Michael's intimidating, penetrating gaze. "I'm—I'm in," he said, because he knew he didn't have another choice. "Just tell me what to do."
Michael looked at him for a long moment, his expression unreadable. "Adam Milligan is the only option left. He's not preferable, but he's better than what I have right now. Which is, as you might remember… nothing."
"But... I thought it had to be Dean," Zachariah protested slowly, thinking back to the prophecy.
"The Lord works in mysterious ways," Michael murmured. He glanced at the other angel fleetingly. "Do you believe that, brother?"
"Uh yeah, of course," Zachariah replied automatically.
"I do too," Michael said in distant thoughtfulness. "Perhaps this is one of these mysterious ways. Perhaps our father is testing my ability to adapt to unpredictable situations." Michael straightened up.
Zachariah looked at him in confusion. "But—but what about—"
"Enough!" Michael suddenly exclaimed, and off in the distance, thunder rumbled. The sky had darkened, Michael seemed several inches taller and wider. Zachariah was quiet for a long moment and the Archangel's expression faded back into calm indifference. The sky returned to a soft rosy orange.
"Now," Michael continued in carefully restrained calm. "Dean was my plan all along. But Adam... is accessible." He heaved a heavy breath. Zachariah felt a great amount of dread rising up inside. Adam was not accessible, not anymore. But Michael seemed to think he was. "I have a way to convince Adam to say yes... but I'll need your help making it happen."
Withering a little, sheepish almost but mostly just afraid, Zachariah hesitated. "Uh, I dunno, he was gung-ho about saying yes there at the beginning but… then I, uh..." Zach laughed nervously, a high-pitched, pathetic sound. "Circumstances unfortunately were not to his liking and uh…" Zachariah decided to cut the BS. "I pissed him off royally." He tried to keep himself light and joking, hoping Michael's anger would stay at bay, that maybe the archangel would value Zachariah's forthcoming truthfulness. "I think the kid would rather eat shit than have anything to do with Heaven right now, to be honest with you."
Michael chuckled, as if he knew something the other angel didn't. "Don't worry, Zachariah," he said confidently. "Nothing you could have said to him will change the fact that he's ours already."
Zachariah frowned, tried to follow Michael's logic. "How?"
They weren't on the yacht anymore. They were in some other Heaven, a small kitchen. A woman with blonde hair was making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, humming to herself, smiling. She was oblivious to the angels, who remained hidden from her. She wiped her hands on her apron then turned around. "Adam, sweetie, sandwich is ready!" she called, then laughed when a little blonde boy bounded into the kitchen, flapping his arms in excitement.
Michael smiled softly, looked at Zachariah. "His mother. I have a new plan for her. I have a way to use her that we didn't think of before."
Alex woke up slowly, in a pleasant fog of sleepiness. When had she dozed off? Her head rested on Cas's bare chest, his arms enveloped her, she rested in the rhythm of his steady breathing. Underneath her ear, she could hear his steady thudding heartbeat. "Hello," he said softly as she raised her head and looked up at him. His face was soft and boyish, relaxed. She remembered everything: Bobby's attic, the lovemaking, how he'd held her and traced patterns of fascination across the skin of her shoulders as she'd drifted off...
She smiled almost sheepishly. He was warm and they were still naked under the trench coat together. "Hello," she echoed.
And now? Now Alex was in the back seat of some stolen car, not even remembering how she'd gotten there or how long they'd been driving. Adam was beside her, Dean was driving, Sam was silent in the front seat. Where was Cas? It had been hours, days, weeks since they left the warehouse she thought. Or it felt that way. She wasn't sure, she felt sick all over. She kept telling herself: Cas will reappear soon. He'll call us and angel himself over and all of this sick worrying will have been over nothing.
After she'd said hello back, she'd asked him how long she'd been asleep. A few hours, he'd said, looking at her with this soft, deep gaze. She remembered feeling strange, shy, beautiful, part of a moment she for once in her life really belonged in, there with Cas in the attic, in the space that was theirs alone, created by what they'd found in each other's arms.
Now she was cold, far away from that place she only had with him. He was missing, he was lost, and she knew it, felt it deep down past her bones. If he didn't reappear soon, if he didn't call soon, she would know her worst fear was true. She held his blade tightly in her lap, unable to think about how she would even begin to cope with losing Cas forever. She squeezed her eyes shut, remembering.
He ran his hand down her arm, looking at it in deep, distracted thought. "Alex," Castiel finally had said softly, his eyebrows pressing in together just a little bit as his eyes sought out hers. The look on his face had stilled her, she felt like he was about to give her bad news, like he was about to tell her something that scared him. He swallowed, searching her eyes. "My feelings for you are... well, they've become..." he paused, thinking his word choice over. "I think... that I—" he began.
And when she realized what he was about to say—that he was in love with her or that he loved her—she scrambled to cut him off. "D-don't," she protested, suddenly caught up in fear.
Castiel obeyed, but looked slightly wounded. Alex regretted her gut-punch reaction of fear. "I… I know you do." She paused tersely, wracked with anxiety. "You just, you don't have to say it out loud," she said tightly, and ducked his open, questioning gaze. She became quiet, looking down and feeling a little mortified with herself. It almost felt like a curse to say that you loved someone out loud. She looked back up at him, not able to say the words themselves and not able to let him speak them either. She was much too afraid.
Alex opened her eyes back up to the dark, unfamiliar car. Beside her, Adam shifted and she could feel him looking at her. Dean and Sam kept glancing back, too. It was like they knew something she didn't. Like they had already decided that Cas wasn't coming back.
She stared into nothing and felt nothing.
It began to rain outside, heavily.
She wished she'd told Cas the truth. I love you.
It was too late now.