"Sammy, this spaghetti is delicious."
Sam smiled faintly and glanced at his brother, stopping with a forkful of spaghetti halfway to his mouth. "Thanks, Dean. I slaved over it all day."
Castiel laughed softly, chewing as he reached for another slice of garlic bread, and John gave a thumbs up as he continued to eat the supper Sam had made.
It was kind of nice, although he almost hated to admit it, and even though he had given Dean a sarcastic comment in response, he appreciated their compliments. After the day he had had, researching for hours on end, trying to figure out where to find their next angel with limited success… it was nice to feel like he had accomplished something, no matter how trivial. In fact—
Sam's thoughts were cut off by the ringing of his phone, and he quickly fished it out of his pocket and looked at the caller ID.
"It's Gabriel," he said, both surprised and mildly concerned. He flipped the phone open and pressed it to his ear, giving his family a cautious look. "Hello?"
"Hiya, Sam."
"Hey, Gabriel. Can I put you on speaker?"
"Sure."
Sam pulled the phone away from his ear and pressed the necessary buttons, setting the phone down toward the center of the table. "Alright, go ahead."
"Well, I don't have much," Gabriel started, but he still sounded optimistic. "So far, I haven't found anything in my spell books that can untie Castiel's tongue, but I'm not giving up. I'm gonna keep looking. What I wanted to tell you in the meantime is… Balthazar."
Blinking, Sam looked between his family members and Castiel for any sign they knew what was going on. He saw none. "Balthazar?"
"He's an angel who left around the same time I did. He's never been crazy about humans, but he definitely doesn't like killing them, so I figured he might be of some use to you." Gabriel paused, and it sounded like maybe he took a drink. "Now, you didn't tell me where your compound is, which I fully understand, so I just told Balthazar to track Castiel's grace. He didn't say for sure he was going to go see you, but I wanted to give you a heads up that you might be seeing an angel within a week or two."
Sam didn't respond right away, but no one at the table jumped in, so Sam cleared his throat and answered. "That sounds awesome. Does this, ah… does this mean you're still thinking about potentially helping us take on Michael?"
Gabriel let out a sigh. "I'm still not convinced, and I'm still not telling you where the nest is, but… if I can find angels who don't like Michael, I'll send them your way. I make no promises, understand?"
"Yes, we got it." Sam nodded. "We totally got it."
"Good."
Sam cleared his throat. "So, we hunted down an angel named Samandriel, and we managed to get him to look into the Michael situation. I don't think he was completely convinced that we were telling the truth, but he at least seemed somewhat open to our way of thinking."
"Samandriel, you said?" Gabriel hummed. "That doesn't ring any bells, and I have a pretty sharp memory. I'm thinking this angel was created after I left, meaning he's less than 200 years old."
Sam took a drink of his Coke as he listened, and quickly swallowed when Gabriel finished. "So, you can't tell us anything about him?"
"No, I can't. Sorry, kiddo."
Dean swallowed a mouthful of spaghetti and leaned toward the phone. "So, about Cas' tongue. Is there anything we can do to help you figure out this spell?"
"Hmm. Well, you could look into some Enochian spell books and see what you find." Gabriel took a breath. "I think the problem is, most of my spell books are as old as I am or older. But this tongue-tying spell is somewhat new. I saw it used only once before I was kicked out, which was 200 years ago, not 600. If you can find some newer texts… you might be able to find something I haven't yet. But that's the only thing I can think of that you could do."
Nodding, Dean shoved another forkful of spaghetti into his mouth and spoke around it. "We'll be on the lookout. We don't have any on hand, but we've got a couple different markets we frequent. We might be able to find something helpful."
"If you're looking at Enochian spell books, you're going to need something to help you translate. My dictionary is organized by the phonetic pronunciation of Enochian words. It's not going to help you translate the written text."
"Well," Sam started, "we have a little information on how to translate Enochian, but we can look for something more. Either at the markets, or maybe through an online resource."
"Sounds like a plan to me," Gabriel said. "I'll be on the lookout for spell books, too. Like I said, I'm not giving up. We're gonna get Cassie talking again, one way or another."
Castiel smiled. "Visnangi."
"You're welcome, buddy." Gabriel took another drink. "Well, that's all for me. I'm headed out to a hospital to do some healing. Keep me posted on the situation. Ciao."
With that, the line went dead, and Sam picked up his phone. He closed it and slipped it back into his pocket, looking around the table with a questioning expression.
"Well?"
John, who had remained silent during the entire conversation, pursed his lips slightly and started to nod. "I wouldn't go as far as saying I trust him, but his actions have shown at least some good intent. This Balthazar, whoever he is, I…" He stopped, struggling with himself for a moment. "I think we can be somewhat certain he won't be a threat to us."
Sam was surprised by the statement, but he couldn't deny the trust his family had in the possibility of good angels had been steadily growing. They trusted Castiel, and that meant they were open to trusting other angels; they were just going to be very cautious. Sam could get with that.
"So, we're heading to Ray's tomorrow?" Sam asked, referring to their need for Enochian spell books.
Dean shoved a forkful of spaghetti into his mouth. "You bet. I'll come with you. We'll hit up the whole circuit of markets in the area."
Sam looked to his dad, waiting for a response.
"You two can handle it." John took a swig of beer. "Bobby and I are going to be looking for demonic omens tomorrow. It's the kind of thing that might take all day."
Sam nodded and then looked at Castiel, concern showing on his features. "Do you want to come with us?" He expected the answer to be 'no,' given that Castiel had been held captive in Ray's market, but he thought it was still prudent to ask.
Castiel shook his head, shrinking back in his chair slightly.
Sam gave a slight nod. "That's probably for the best. Ray told me an angel killed his family and got him into hunting in the first place. I don't know how he would take our… cooperation."
Castiel nodded seriously, and it seemed he was more than okay with never seeing Ray again.
Sam glanced at his family members and then wet his lips, looking back at Castiel. "Did Ray… hurt you? I mean, besides putting you in a cage?"
Castiel nodded, but then he held up his thumb and forefinger close together.
"So, just a little." That was a relief, though Sam found himself a little bitter about whatever abuse had happened. Still, if he could forgive Castiel killing over 150 hunters, he could forgive Ray for some harsh treatment.
Sam didn't like it. But he was willing to accept it.
"It sucks that we have an angel with us that can't translate the books," Dean commented.
Castiel hung his head, looking very guilty, which caused Sam to give his brother a death glare.
"We'll figure something out." Sam spoke with a hard tone. "It's not a big deal."
Dean lifted his hands in surrender but said nothing.
John took another swig of beer. "Maybe that… Balthazar… will be able to translate some things for us." Drumming his fingers on the table, he mulled over the idea. "Or, if Samandriel doesn't stab us in the back, maybe he'd be willing to translate some texts."
Sam looked at Castiel with what he hoped was an encouraging smile. "It's alright, Cas. We're gonna figure something out."
Castiel gave Sam a look that was slightly less defeated than his usual expressions when talking about his inability to… well… talk.
Sam chose to take it as a victory.
"Ugh." Dean leaned back in his chair and groaned. "You're gonna wake me up early, aren't you?"
Sam simply smiled to himself and twisted his fork in his spaghetti.
"I freakin' knew it."
Sam looked at his necklace again, inspecting the little anti-possession charm Bobby had given him. It was incredible to think that a little piece of metal on a black cord could stop a demon from taking over his body, but Sam didn't doubt Bobby for a second. He had every confidence that the necklace would keep him safe.
From possession, anyway.
Sam glanced to his right, where Castiel walked, his blue eyes wandering over their surroundings cautiously. "Sense anything yet?"
Castiel shook his head, and Sam looked to his left, where Dean was, and then behind them, where the rest of the group was walking. He saw Jo, Ellen, Bobby, and John, meaning everyone was accounted for, so Sam put his eyes back on the sidewalk in front of him.
I wish there was a better way to do this.
After John and Bobby located some demonic omens in St. Peters, Missouri, the group had packed up and headed out together, which was all well and good, but there wasn't really a way to narrow down who the demon was. So, they were walking all over the city, letting Castiel lead the way, hoping he would sense something off about one of the almost 60,000 people they came across.
It had been three hours, and nothing had happened yet.
"Do you think the demon will find out we're here and come looking for us?" Dean asked, drawing Sam's attention away from his thoughts.
"I don't know." Pursing his lips slightly, Sam frowned down at the sidewalk. "If they've got plans for me specifically, I don't see why they wouldn't."
Dean pat Sam on the back and spoke in a dismissive tone. "Don't worry about it, Sammy. We're not gonna let them get you."
Sam let out a soft sigh. "You don't know for sure—"
"Yes, I do." Dean's voice was unwavering. "Nobody's going to get you."
Sam opened his mouth to object but stopped short when Castiel came to a sudden halt. Everyone in the group slowed to a stop, and Castiel extended his arm, pointing at a restaurant across the street.
"You sense something?" Sam asked, looking between Castiel to the establishment he had pointed out. "Is it definitely a demon?"
Castiel tilted his hand from side to side in a 'so-so' gesture.
"Let's check it out," John ordered, taking the lead and crossing the street.
They all followed closely behind, filing into the restaurant and watching to see how Castiel would react. Castiel scanned the dining area, eyes narrowed and zeroed in on every patron, and John spoke to the woman behind the counter about them getting a table. They were seated—after brief comments about those of them who had shotguns—and they were given menus, and Castiel continued to look around, clearly not finding what he had sensed.
For the second time, Sam wished they had a better way to track down a demon, but he didn't let his frustration show on his face. He simply picked up a menu and pretended to look at it, stealing a glance at Castiel from time to time.
Several minutes passed, and they actually ordered food to keep the restaurant from becoming antagonistic. Their waitress took the menus and strode off, they spent three minutes talking about how they really did need to eat lunch, and then Castiel jerked.
"What is it?" Sam asked quietly.
Castiel put both hands on the table and stood up, looking into what little of the kitchen could be seen. He squinted, staying perfectly still for a moment, and then he stepped away from the table. He hurried toward the kitchen, and Sam was quick to get to his feet and follow.
Sam heard the rest of the group following them, and then Sam felt a hand on his shoulder.
"Let me take this." It was John.
Sam stopped for a second and let his father take the lead, watching as John pulled a bottle of holy water from his jacket and opened it.
They walked into the kitchen, went around a counter, and Castiel pointed to a chef with his back to them.
John came to a stop just a yard or so behind the demon. "You weren't about to put poison in that food, were you?"
The demon turned, still holding a container of something in his hand, and John immediately splashed him with the holy water. It let out a shout, and steam rose from its body, and then Bobby fired his shotgun, the salt rounds striking the demon and drawing another sound of pain from its mouth.
Sam watched its eyes turn black, and he pulled his own bottle of holy water from inside his jacket. He took a few steps, preparing to go around his dad and add to their attack, but he stopped short when he saw Castiel tackle the demon to the ground.
"Nahar!" Castiel growled out the word, the demon gripping his wrists as his hands began to glow with a bluish-white light. "Skant malsha!"
Sam tried to get a little closer, concerned for Castiel, but John put his arm out to keep Sam back.
"Just wait," John said, taking a step of his own in the direction of the two wrestling entities.
The demon struggled to keep Castiel's hands away from itself, and then Castiel flew backwards, crashing into a large refrigerator and falling to the ground.
"Cas!" Sam barely got the word out before he was rushing forward and pouring his bottle of holy water on the demon.
It threw its hand out, and Sam felt the floor disappear beneath his feet, his body catapulting through the air until he hit a table.
"Sammy!" That was Dean.
Sam moved slightly, pain shooting across his back, and he tried to take everything in. He saw John splashing the demon with more holy water, he saw Dean take a shot that landed right in the demon's chest, and he saw Ellen trying to keep the rest of the restaurant staff away from the kitchen.
If we can't overpower it…
Sam didn't let himself finish the thought, struggling to his feet and rushing back into the kitchen. "Dad, look out!"
The demon got its feet beneath it, and growled at John, but it never got the chance to attack. Castiel came flying from somewhere on the left, and he grabbed the demon's face with his still-glowing hands. Immediately, the demon grabbed Castiel's wrists, trying desperately to tear his hands away, but the resistance only lasted for about ten seconds. The demon slumped, and Castiel let it fall to the ground before reaching up and pressing a not-glowing hand to the back of his head.
Dean stood next to Sam, still aiming his shotgun. "Is this—? Is this over? Are we done here?"
Sam cleared his throat to get Castiel's attention. "Castiel, did you kill him?"
Castiel shook his head and then put his hands together, laying his head against them in the universal gesture for sleeping.
"So, he's just unconscious." Sam realized he was still holding the bottle of holy water, and he quickly twisted the cap on. "For how long?"
Castiel held up a single finger.
"I really hope he doesn't mean one minute," Dean commented, still aiming his weapon, as if he expected the demon to get up any second.
"Cas, is it one hour?" Sam asked.
Castiel nodded.
John stepped closer to the center of the kitchen and spoke in a loud, even voice. "Jo, help your mother explain things to the restaurant workers. Try and get information about this chef while you do. Bobby, you and I are going to get the truck and bring it back here so we have a way of transporting the demon. Sam, Dean, and Castiel, stay here with the demon and make sure it doesn't wake up."
There were nods and general words of agreement, and then the group dispersed. Sam walked up to the fallen body and looked at Castiel, who was still holding the back of his head.
"Are you okay?" Sam asked.
Castiel tilted his hand from side to side in a 'so-so' gesture. "Rash."
Sam shook his head. "I don't remember that one, and the dictionary is in the Impala." He looked down at the demon and then looked back up at Castiel. "Did it drain your grace to do that?"
Castiel nodded seriously, his eyes widened slightly to express just how much the action had taken from him.
Sam looked over his shoulder as Dean approached, but then his attention was back on Castiel. "Well, thanks for your help. I don't know if the salt rounds and holy water would have been enough."
Castiel smiled and nodded his head, his hand still pressed to his skull.
Dean handed Sam his shotgun with one hand, and with the other, he turned his finger in a circle. "Turn around and let me have a look at that."
Smiling to himself, Sam took the offered weapon, making no comment about Dean's habitual brothering. He watched as Castiel started to turn, worry overtaking him immediately when Castiel dropped to one knee.
"Woah, Cas." Dean put his hands on Castiel's shoulders, keeping him upright. "Take it easy. We gotcha."
Sam was concerned about Castiel, but it looked like Dean was in control of the situation, and Sam couldn't quite tear his eyes away from the body on the floor.
Well, we got one. Now what?
"You do realize I'm never gonna talk, right?"
Sam stared down at his boots, leaning back against the warehouse wall with his arms crossed over his chest. He had stood there for a good three hours, only occasionally looking up at the interrogation taking place fifteen feet away. He had stood there while John and Bobby doused the demon in holy water, and he had stood there while they forwent the use of iron knives to preserve the host body. He had stood there for a long time, and he wasn't getting any calmer.
"Well, if you're never going to talk, there's no point in standing around with you tied to a chair." Bobby lifted the book in his hands and began reading the exorcism.
Sam pushed off the wall and stormed to the sliding door, tearing it open and leaving the makeshift interrogation room behind. He hadn't gotten ten feet from the door when he heard Dean running after him.
"Sammy!"
Sam stopped, but he didn't turn to face Dean right away. He saw Castiel, who was standing a couple yards away and waiting for the interrogation to be done, and then Sam tried to take a deep breath and calm down.
"Sam."
"What?" Sam turned around just as Dean got to him.
Dean held out his hands, a knowing look on his face. "This is the first demon we've interrogated. It doesn't mean we aren't gonna figure out what they have planned for you."
Sam extended a hand toward the warehouse, some mix of anger and panic raising his voice. "As long as we're holding back to preserve the host bodies, there's nothing we can do to make them talk. Nothing."
"You don't know that." Dean spread his arms slightly, an incredulous sort of look on his face. "We don't know that every demon is going to be as tough as this one. Or if we'll find a demon with a dead host body we can really tear into."
Sam only got more upset. "Why are you not freaking out about this?"
"Because, Sam, I told you: We're gonna figure this out." Dean made a 'down boy' gesture. "One way or another, we're going to find out what Hell wants with you, and we're going to stop them."
Sam opened his mouth to argue, but he stopped short when a stream of black smoke came flying out of the open warehouse door. I guess that was the demon. Sam put his attention back on Dean and opened his mouth again, but he was once again interrupted, this time by Castiel walking up to them with a worried expression on his face.
"Deltana?"
Sam let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I don't know what that means, and the dictionary is in the Impala."
Dean scoffed slightly. "Well, if you're asking how it's going, it's not going great."
Castiel looked between the two of them, his expression concerned. He reached out and put a hand on each of their shoulders, using an almost petting kind of motion on them. Then he took his hands and held them up above his head before lowering them to his waist, his palms facing the ground.
Dean waved it off like it was no big deal. "Don't worry, Cas. We're calm." He looked at Sam then, a questioning light in his eyes. "We're calm, right?"
Sam let out another sigh and reached up to rub his face. "Yeah." He dropped his hands. "We're calm."
Castiel's gaze slid from Sam to Dean and back again, disbelief and caution in his bright blue eyes. Still, he didn't try to say anything more, and he didn't do anything, so he must have trusted them somewhat.
"Seriously, Sam." Dean gave his brother a solemn look. "We're gonna figure this out."
Sam ran a hand through his hair and opened his mouth to ask, 'How?' but he stopped short. He let out a soft sigh and nodded his head, surrendering to Dean's stubbornness. "Got it."
Dean reached out and punched Sam on the shoulder. "We got this, Sammy. Trust me."
"Mhm." Sam ran a hand through his hair, looking at the warehouse. "Well, one of the vehicles will be used to take the host to the hospital, but the other one could head home awhile. Maybe we can get started on some more research."
"Or," Dean started, spreading his arms slightly, "we could stick together and enjoy the victory of sending a demon back to Hell. Because it is a victory, and we're gonna take a day or two to recover."
Sam felt frustration burn the inside of his chest, but he pushed it down. "You're right." He took a deep breath and looked at the warehouse again, where John and Ellen were walking out with the host body staggering between them. "We should stick together. Besides, it won't take that long to drop him off at the hospital and have a quick conversation with the police."
"Shotgun!" Dean raised his hand and started walking toward the Impala.
Sam rolled his eyes, and he looked at Castiel. "Guess this means we're in the back." He pursed his lips. "How's your grace? Do you need to let your wings come back?"
Castiel furrowed his brow, looking over his shoulder for a moment before turning uncertain eyes to Sam. He shrugged his shoulders, holding up his hands in the universal 'I don't know' gesture.
"That's okay. We'll figure it out." Sam smiled and then started walking toward the Impala, Castiel falling in step beside him. "We'll figure it all out."
One way or another, they had to.
Because Sam didn't know what would happen if they didn't.
"Dad, do you see that?"
"Yes. You ready for a hunt?"
Sam felt the sleep in his brain slowly recede, his eyes opening and wandering up to John and Dean in the driver and passenger seats, respectively. "What…?"
Dean pointed ahead of them to the compound, and as soon as Sam looked, he was wide awake. He sat up straight and leaned between the front seats of the car, trying to get a better look at the two sets of wings inside the compound fence.
"I can't see their faces." Sam leaned forward a little more, and then he reached out to smack a sleeping Castiel. "Castiel, wake up."
Castiel barely pulled himself into consciousness, looking at Sam with exhausted eyes that had Sam remembering just how much grace Castiel had used over the past couple days.
"Can you see those angels?" Sam rushed. "Do you know them?"
Castiel pushed Sam aside slightly and took his spot, squinting at the fence and the wings beyond. For a moment, there was stillness, but then Castiel's face lit up. "Samandriel."
"Samandriel?" Sam didn't know whether or not to be relieved. "Do you know the other one?"
Castiel stared for a moment more, and then he shook his head.
"So," John started, grabbing the door handle as if he were about to get out. "Samandriel brought another angel to the compound."
Dean frowned, shaking his head slightly. "That doesn't make sense. Why only bring one? Why not bring five? Or ten?"
"There could be others hiding." John opened his door and put one foot on the grass. "Either way, we can't get to them until someone opens the fence. You all stay put, and I'll get the gate."
Sam felt his heart beat a little faster. "Be careful, Dad."
Sam may have been the one getting chummy with angels, but he hadn't forgotten what they were capable of, and his family was walking into a situation with almost no information. Sam didn't like those odds, and he wasn't sure what to do other than grab the angel blade from the bag at his feet.
"Do we have a plan?" Dean asked, pulling an angel blade from inside his jacket.
"Yeah. Don't die." Sam watched the gate slide open, and then he managed to tear his eyes away long enough to look at Castiel. "Are you going to be able to help, or are you pretty wiped out?"
Castiel clenched both of his fists and held them up in a fighting position, a look of determination on his face.
"Good." Sam nodded and looked forward just as his dad got back in the car.
"Get ready, boys." John put the car in gear and hit the gas pedal, pulling into the compound and heading right for the Winchester house. "Keep your guard up."
There were nods all around, and they were rushing to get out of the vehicle before it had even come to a stop. Vaguely, Sam was aware of the rest of his family pouring out of Bobby's truck behind them.
"Woah, woah, woah. Slow your roll, mate."
Sam glared at the angel he didn't recognize, and then his gaze drifted to Samandriel. "So, you decided to fight us instead of working with us. I assume Michael sent you?"
Samandriel shook his head. "No. I was coming alone to talk, and then I ran into him." He nodded in the other angel's direction.
Dean scoffed, a little closer to the duo than Sam. "Right. You expect us to believe you just so happened to run into another angel at a hunter's compound?"
"Well, we're not attacking you," the still unnamed angel said, spreading his arms and his large, golden wings. "We're just standing here, letting you get near us with angel blades." He crossed his arms over his chest then, taking on a mildly colder tone. "Which, by the way, you have way too many of."
Sam gripped his blade a little tighter and raised his voice to be heard by the whole group. "Maybe we should take a moment to think about this."
The unidentified angel laughed and wagged a finger. "You must be Sam. Gabriel said you were the peaceful one."
"Gabriel?" Dean echoed, shifting where he stood.
"Yup." The angel made a popping noise at the end of the word. "Name's Balthazar. I'm a fellow dissident."
Sam looked to his dad, hoping he would find some sign of civility. "Dad, Gabriel did tell us about an angel named Balthazar."
"Yes, he did," John said, not taking his eyes off the angels. "But what are the chances that the angel Gabriel told us about ran into Samandriel, who isn't even sure he wants to rebel against Michael?"
Balthazar held his hands up in a gesture of surrender. "Okay. Fair." He crossed his arms again. "I tracked Castiel's grace to Missouri, but when I got there, you were in the middle of interrogating something. I have no idea what, but I figured it wasn't the best time to approach. So, I decided to track Castiel's grace again, this time looking for something a little muted, and that got me to this compound."
Sam shook his head slightly, confused. "Muted? What does that mean?"
"Ehh. Well…" Balthazar spread his arms, and he paused for a minute before speaking. "Grace sort of… leaves a trail. That's how you track it, by following weak signals to strong ones. Of course, it's strongest where the angel actually is, but grace can build up anywhere an angel spends a lot of time. It fades with time, but I figured Castiel would have been stationary before going on that hunt, so I looked for grace that was weaker than the signal from his location, but stronger than the rest of the signals."
For several seconds, no one said anything, and Sam looked around hopefully. He didn't see anybody looking too angry or bent on a fight, and as he looked at his dad, he realized he could actually see some acceptance on John's features.
"Alright, then." John indicated both of them with his angel blade. "Looks like you've got some stories to tell us. I want some proof of good intentions."
Balthazar and Samandriel exchanged a glance, and then Samandriel cleared his throat.
"I guess I'll go first." Samandriel rubbed the back of his neck. "I used an old spell to eavesdrop on one of the council's meetings." He paused, and he must have seen the confusion on their faces, because he clarified. "The council is a group of leaders Michael trusts. They decide everything that happens to the nest. Anyway, I listened in, and I heard some… disturbing things."
John leaned back against the hood of the Impala, arms folded over his chest. "What kind of things?"
Samandriel looked conflicted for a moment, but then he shook it off. "They were, um, they were talking about attacking humans, but…" He struggled with his words for a moment. "When I received orders to attack humans, it was always framed as necessary because those humans were a threat or because a message needed to be sent. But when they were talking about attacking, it just… it just sounded like they wanted to attack for the sake of attacking."
Sam took a few steps forward, tucking his angel blade into his belt as a display of good faith. He couldn't help but feel a little sympathy for the angel who was turning on everything he ever knew. "You think they just hate humans for the sake of hating them?"
Samandriel looked down, his cream-colored wings drooping slightly. "That's what it sounded like." He shook his head slightly. "I am… I am still trying to figure out what I think of it."
"Really?" That was Dean, speaking up for the first time since they had decided on a semi-peaceful interaction. "You find out your leaders are driven by hate and you don't know what to think of it?"
Samandriel lifted his gaze from the ground, glaring at Dean with fire in his blue-gray eyes. "This has been my life for 189 years. You would have the exact same doubts if you were in my shoes."
"Don't count on it," Dean snorted, and like John, he still had his angel blade out. He gripped it a little tighter. "You know what Michael did to Cas. If that isn't enough to convince you something's wrong—"
"I know that!" Samandriel shouted, but then he visibly stopped himself and took a breath. He let it out slowly and met Dean's gaze evenly. "I know that. That's why I'm here right now."
Jo spoke up next, taking a few steps toward the angels despite her mother's objections. "Have you decided if you're going to tell us where the nest is?"
Samandriel shook his head. "Not with the fledglings there. If we can find some way to hide them or get them out of the nest, then… maybe." He thought for a moment and then shook his head again. "There's also other angels like me who don't know what's really going on."
Balthazar nodded in Samandriel's direction. "I won't tell you unless the fledglings are gone, either. I could care less how many hunters and angels die in the big battle, so I don't really have a reason not to tell you, but you've got to find a way to get the fledglings out."
"Anna." It was Castiel, and he approached his fellow angels with eagerness on his tired face. "Anna."
"Who's Anna?" John questioned, not taking his eyes off Samandriel and Balthazar.
"She's their teacher," Samandriel answered, a thoughtful expression crossing his features. "She would have them all in class during the day, so she would be able to get them out of the nest and somewhere safe."
Sam slipped his hands into his pockets. "Well, how do we get in touch with her? And how likely is she to believe us about Michael?"
Samandriel hummed for a moment and then shook his head. "I'm not sure. I'd have to be the one to talk to her because she never leaves the nest. You wouldn't have a chance to get her alone, but I would."
Jo folded her arms over her chest. "Okay. Do you think she'll believe you?"
"I don't know." Samandriel pursed his lips, his expression showing he was still deep in thought. "She doesn't receive the same orders that those who fight do, so she might not have as much prejudice against humans, but…" He winced. "I don't know."
"No one's immune to prejudice," Bobby commented, adjusting his ballcap.
Sam had to concede to that, but he was still hopeful. "What happens if she turns you in to Michael?"
"Well…" Samandriel swallowed. "I'll just have to make sure I get out."
Sam glanced over and saw Castiel looking at him with desperation in his eyes. "Uh…" Sam looked back at Samandriel. "I don't think Castiel wants you taking that chance."
Samandriel looked at Castiel, and despite his doubts, his expression was earnest. "I want to do this, Castiel. If I've been wrong all these years… all the people who've died… if it was all for nothing, we need to find a way to end it."
Castiel still looked unhappy, and he started to speak Enochian, gesturing with his hands.
"I know." Samandriel cut him off. "I know what he did, and I know what he's capable of. But I have to do this. I won't be able to live with myself if I don't." He stared Castiel down, but then he softened his expression slightly. "This is my choice, Castiel. Let me make it."
Castiel looked between Sam and Samandriel, uttering a few more words of Enochian, but then he bowed his head. He wrapped his arms around himself and nodded, seemingly understanding Samandriel's decision.
"Well, that was emotional," Balthazar chirped, his flippant nature out of place in the serious scenario. "It almost moved me."
"I don't recall asking for your opinion." Dean met Balthazar's disposition with his perpetual need to start a fight. "In fact, if Samandriel tells us where the nest is, we don't need you at all."
Balthazar held up a finger. "Not true, actually. I am going to be working, as Gabriel is, to find a way to get Castiel talking again." He put his hands on his hips. "And Samandriel might not tell you where the nest is. He's actually worried about the people who blindly follow whatever Michael tells them, whereas I'm not." He tisked. "Like it or not, mate, you need to cooperate with me."
Dean scowled, but for once, he didn't have a snappy reply ready. He just gripped his angel blade a little tighter and stared Balthazar down.
"So," Ellen started, walking up to the group that was gathered by the Impala. "What exactly does all this mean as far as planning goes?"
"Well, for starters…" Balthazar reached into his back pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. "This. Out of the goodness of my heart, I'm giving you instructions for a spell that will hide Castiel's grace from outsiders."
John took a step forward and grabbed the offered paper, his movements careful and calculated. Then he backed up and leaned against the Impala again, stuffing the paper in his jacket pocket without even looking at it.
"We also need to start calling hunters," Bobby said, referring to Ellen's question. "If we're getting close to an attack, we need to start building up our numbers."
Sam swallowed, fighting off his earlier panic as it struggled to return. "We should probably stop looking for demons until we get this thing handled." Even though I don't want to.
No one commented on that, which was pretty much the same as saying they agreed.
"We've got plenty to discuss," was what John finally said. "We can exchange phone numbers and go over the plan as it develops." He gave the angels an expectant look. "Sound good?"
Balthazar shrugged. "Sounds good to me, mate."
Samandriel shook his head. "I don't have a phone. I don't even know if I would know where to get one."
John nodded slightly. "We'll get you one and set it up for you." He turned to the rest of the group. "Does anyone have any more questions?"
There were a few noises and words that meant the questions had dried up for the time being.
"Alright, then. Let's get started."
Sam let out an imperceptible sigh and turned to look at Castiel, wondering what was going through the angel's mind. He's probably still worried about Samandriel. And Sam had no idea how to comfort or assure him. And he's probably worried about this attack. Sam definitely was, and Sam wasn't the one going up against his own family. His family that had tortured and abandoned him. We'll figure it out.
Somehow, someway.
We'll figure it out.
"…deshta kil andorati loodu kijma tesen."
Sam squinted against the sparks that flew from the bowl of ingredients, straining to see Castiel, who stood in the middle of a glowing design with the bowl. It took a moment, but once Gabriel had finished speaking, the sparks stopped, and then the chalk design stopped glowing. Silence settled over the garage, and the group of gathered hunters all watched Castiel, anticipation hanging in the air.
"Well?" Dean spread his hands. "Don't keep us in suspense."
Castiel opened his mouth and tried to speak, but nothing came out. He moved his lips and made a grunting noise, fingers curling into fists. Still struggling, he spat out a couple Enochian words and then uttered an apology.
"Ne dana."
"Don't apologize." Sam gestured to the symbol Castiel was standing in the middle of. "It's not your fault, and just because this one didn't work, it doesn't mean there isn't one out there that will work."
Keeping his eyes on Sam, Castiel shook his head with a defeated look on his face.
"We will find something, Cas." Turning, Sam looked over the members of his family and then put his attention on Gabriel. "Do you have anything else to try right now?"
"This was the last one I had on hand." Gabriel snapped the spell book closed, and Sam couldn't quite decipher the expression he wore. "You know, you might have to accept that Castiel is right and there is no way to break this spell."
Sam was shaking his head before Gabriel could even finish. "No. I don't believe that. If there's no spell out there that can reverse this, then I will invent a spell to reverse this."
Dean let out a sigh and gave Gabriel a look that said resistance was futile. "Trust me, he's set on this. You can't change his mind. It's impossible."
"Shut up, Dean." Sam folded his arms over his chest. "If you get to believe that we're going to defeat the demons coming after me, then I get to believe that Castiel's muteness is curable."
Holding up his hands in a gesture of surrender, Dean started walking to the door that led into the house. "Fine, fine. I'm getting a soda."
Sam watched him leave and then put his attention on Gabriel. "He's not wrong. You can't convince me that this can't be done."
Gabriel smiled faintly, and all he said was, "I'm glad Castiel has someone like that in his corner." He glanced at the door Dean had gone through. "I think while I'm here, I'm going to bum a drink off you." He took a few steps and then stopped, turning to look at Sam. "How goes the plan to attack Michael's nest? Have you gotten any hunters to agree to your terms?"
Sam opened his mouth to respond, but he was cut off by John, who walked up to the two of them with his hands in his pockets.
"I've got about twenty hunters who are willing to attack the nest; it's the notion of talking to angels that people don't like. Nobody wants to try and convince the angels to join the good side, they just want to kill and be done."
Gabriel pressed his lips together in a thin line and nodded. "Yeah. That's what I thought." He paused then, a thoughtful expression crossing his features. "Although… maybe if you told them the only way to get the location is to agree to talk to the angels…"
Shaking his head, John addressed the issue with a surprisingly angel-friendly perspective. "We could do that, but forcing them to say they'll talk to an angel doesn't guarantee they actually will."
Gabriel pointed at John. "Good point." He dropped his hand. "Well, I'm still considering what I'm going to tell you, so… if you're really set on this, keep it up."
John nodded but offered no more words.
"I didn't even know we were doing that yet." Sam wasn't exactly surprised to find his dad had been doing things without him, but it was somewhat unexpected. "I thought we would wait until we had flipped more angels."
John shrugged his shoulders, giving Sam a serious but nonconfrontational look. "I think we need to be working on all aspects as much as possible. Every time we flip an angel, they're risking being tortured within an inch of their life. We don't want them to be waiting on us to gather hunters; we're going to want to strike right away."
Pursing his lips slightly, Sam offered a nod. "That makes sense to me."
"Glad we're all on the same page." Gabriel nodded toward the house, an impatient look on his face. "Can I get a drink now?"
"Oh, yeah." Sam made a sweeping motion with his arm, indicating the door. "Help yourself. Dean's in there, so…"
Gabriel gave a thumbs up and disappeared into the house, and Sam gave his father a smile before walking over to Castiel.
Castiel looked at Sam, sadness in his bright, blue eyes. He looked at Sam with an 'I told you so' expression. He looked at Sam with utter defeat and grief on his face.
"Castiel." Sam took the angel by the shoulders and gave him a little shake. "We are going to figure this out."
Castiel shook his head, a pained expression contorting his features. He was trying to get Sam to understand just how impossible the task was.
"Yes, we are." Meeting Castiel's gaze with certainty and assurance in his own, Sam tried to get his friend to see things his way. "It might take a long time, and we might have to make some hard decisions, but we're going to figure this out. We are going to get you talking again."
Castiel drooped, his shoulders hunching and his head hanging down.
"I know you don't believe it, and that's okay. You don't have to." Sam slid his hands from Castiel's shoulders, wrapping his arms around Castiel's frame. "But we're gonna do it."
Castiel didn't respond.
"I promise."
Dean didn't bother knocking on Sam's bedroom door, choosing instead to push it open and lean against the doorway with a judging look on his face.
"Is staying up until four to research making you feel any better?"
"Wow, Dean." Sam scoffed. "Thanks for respecting my privacy."
Dean frowned, folding his arms over his chest. "That's not an answer."
Sighing, Sam reached up and rubbed his face before running his hands through his hair. "I…" He sighed again, looking at his laptop screen, his face illuminated in the otherwise dark room. "I don't know."
"Well, that's not an answer, either." Dean flicked on Sam's bedroom light and stepped inside, pushing the door shut behind him. "Come on, Sammy. Bedtime."
"I'm not five, Dean." Sam didn't make any attempt to go to bed. In fact, he put his hands on his keyboard like he was about to start typing again.
"No, no, no." Dean closed the laptop on Sam's hands and then pulled it away. "You are going to bed."
"Dean!"
Dean walked over to Sam's dresser and set the computer down before turning and walking back to the bedside. "Sam." He gave his brother a serious look. "You know this isn't healthy."
"I'm nineteen, Dean." Sam huffed out an incredulous laugh. "I can manage my own sleep schedule, thank you."
Shaking his head, Dean tried to get Sam to see reason. "You're not helping anyone by doing this. If you're sleep deprived, you can't do any research or come along on hunts. You want to do those things, so you need to sleep."
Sam put his face in his hands and groaned, clearly irritated, but when he lifted his head to look at Dean, there was nothing but defeat on his face. "I don't even know what I'm doing anymore."
"You're helping Cas. You're looking into a nest of angels that attacks humans for no reason. You're being a hunter." Dean spread his arms. "What else is there?"
"I just… I don't know how much longer I can do this." Sam let out a sigh, shaking his head. "I just keep researching, hoping to get answers, and… It's almost Christmas. Dad bought Castiel in July." He stared down at his lap for a few seconds. "Dean, what if we can't get him talking again?"
Pausing, Dean considered the question. "Well… I guess we'll be bilingual then." He shrugged. "If we have to learn Enochian to communicate with him, so be it."
Sam uttered a cross between a groan and a sigh. "He should be able to speak whatever language he wants. It's not…"
Dean arched a brow. "Were you just gonna say, 'it's not fair?' Because last time I checked, nothing that happens to us is fair. That's life."
"Yeah, thanks, Dean. I know that." Gritting his teeth, Sam grabbed a fistful of his comforter. "I know that. I'm not a child." He grabbed his blanket with his other hand and lifted it up, sliding down as if he were going to go to sleep. "You know what? It doesn't matter. Just go."
"Sammy." Dean walked over and put his hands on Sam's shoulders. "Sammy, listen."
"Dean, just go. Okay? I don't want to talk about it."
"You don't have to talk about it. Just listen." Dean squeezed Sam's shoulders, giving him another little shake. "We are going to win. I don't know how, but we are. We'll make it by the skin of our teeth, but we'll make it. Okay? We'll make it."
Sam couldn't meet Dean's eyes for several seconds, and then hazel slowly traveled up to green. He stared for a few seconds, and then he took a deep breath and let it out.
"Okay."
Dean gave him a smile. "You'll be alright, Sammy." He patted Sam's shoulders, and then he let go. "Now get some sleep."
Dean straightened up and walked over to Sam's door, stopping just long enough to give his brother another look, and then he flicked the light off. He stepped out of the room and walked down the hall to his own bedroom, not even bothering to turn the light on. He walked over to his bed and tumbled into the sheets, and he was fairly certain he was asleep before he hit the mattress.
Christmas came fast, but it passed with little fanfare. They exchanged some gifts, but, per the usual, there were no lights or trees. Jo baked a few pies, which Dean thoroughly enjoyed, but they didn't really cook a Christmas dinner. There was some snowfall, and Castiel almost always had his wings out, keeping them wrapped tightly around himself to stay warm.
Then it was New Years. They set off some fireworks, which Castiel had never seen before, and enjoyed a few drinks in the backyard. The beginning of a new year brought a renewed vigor in their hunt for angels, and throughout January, they found seven more. Three listened to what they had to say, four wound up dead.
During this time, Gabriel made a couple trips to the compound to try more spells on Castiel. None of them worked, but Sam didn't lose hope. He was still convinced they could find a way to get Castiel talking again.
Samandriel called to share what he was learning from the council, and he said he was still trying to figure out how to approach Anna. Balthazar also called, but his messages surrounded the topic of untying Castiel's tongue. He hadn't had any more luck than Gabriel, but he kept on looking.
Soon, it was February, and their hunting continued. They kept calling hunters, kept looking for angels, kept trying spells. It got almost monotonous. Every day, every week, the same thing. It was so repetitive.
And then it wasn't.
"Sorry, Castiel. That's all I've got for now."
Sam let out a soft sigh at Gabriel's words, and he knew Castiel's belief that there was nothing they could do was being cemented by yet another failure. For a moment, he thought about saying something to encourage Castiel, but then he wondered whether it would do any good. Maybe Castiel got tired of hearing the same platitudes over and over again. Maybe—
"Guys!" Dean called from where he stood outside the open garage door, staring upward and shielding his eyes from the sun. "We got angels overhead!"
Sam rushed over with the rest of his family on his heels. Looking up at the sky, he let out a curse and tried to remember if his angel blade was in his bag. There has to be at least a dozen of them. How are we going to take on a dozen angels at once?
Dean pulled his angel blade out of his jacket. "Get ready for a fight, guys!"
Gabriel put his hands on his hips, a smirk curling his lips. "You guys are lucky you've got an archangel here. With my benevolent assistance, you actually stand a chance of surviving this."
Sam didn't wait to hear anymore. He turned on his heel and hurried back into the garage, making a beeline for his bag. He grabbed it up and reached inside, pushing the Enochian dictionary aside to grab his angel blade. Once he had it, he dropped his bag to the ground and sped back outside.
"Here they come!" That was Jo, who was already holding her own angel blade at the ready.
In fact, it looked like everyone had their angel blades, probably because Gabriel was there. Apparently, Sam was the only one who had left his.
"Are we gonna try talking at all?" Sam asked, watching as the group started to swoop down out of the sky.
"I don't think we have that option," John said, stepping forward as the angels landed.
"Humans," the angel at the front of the group said, "you have interfered with the safety of the nest for the last time."
Dean scoffed. "Yeah, we'll see about that, featherhead."
Sam gripped his blade a little tighter, and before he even had time to think, the angels rushed them. Sam didn't focus on what anybody else was doing; he picked an angel with long, brown hair and ran at her.
Sam thrust his blade forward, but the angel grabbed his wrist before he could make contact. He immediately dropped the blade and grabbed it with his other hand, going in for another attack. He almost made it, but then she knocked his hand aside, and the next thing he knew, there was a burning pain spreading up the arm she was gripping the wrist of.
"You can't defeat me, boy," she taunted, reaching for his angel blade.
Sam pulled his weapon out of her reach and snarled, "Watch me."
Sam tugged on his arm, trying to free it from her hold, but she was relentless. She made a grab for his blade again, and he jerked it away before driving it into her forearm. She let out a shout and released his wrist, tearing her arm away from him.
"You're dead," she hissed.
Sam tossed his blade back to his dominant hand. "I don't think so."
She smirked, and Sam was in the middle of wondering why when someone grabbed him from behind. Pain blossomed through his side, sharp and deep. He struggled against the arms wrapped around his chest, his own arms reaching around to try and grab his attacker. His heart started pounding, adrenaline coursing through his veins as panic set in, and he did what he had done his entire life when faced with trouble.
"Dean!" Sam saw the female angel lift her hands, her palms glowing with a bluish-white light. "Dean, help!"
"Sammy!"
Sam wasn't about to do nothing while he waited for help, so he tried to figure out which angel was the bigger threat. He quickly decided it was the one that was actually touching him and causing that stabbing pain in his side. Come on, Sam. Focus. He twisted around in its hold and tried to drive the blade into its shoulder, not quite able to sink the metal into the joint, but still able to do some damage.
"Sam!"
Sam faced forward just in time to see Castiel tackle the female angel to the ground. He watched for a split second, but he couldn't get distracted. He threw his head back, hitting the angel behind him in the jaw. It didn't do anything to release the iron grip the angel had on him, and he was starting to feel dizzy with pain.
"Get off me!" Sam took a deep breath and twisted again, lifting his blade and plunging it into the angel's neck.
It released Sam and staggered backward, and Sam lunged, thrusting the blade right into the angel's heart. Light shone from the angel's eyes and mouth, and then the body went limp on the ground.
Sam barely took a breath.
He turned on his heel and saw Castiel on the ground with the female angel. Castiel was on top, and they were gripping each other's hands, light shining between their palms. Sam ran over to them and dropped to his knees, gasping for breath.
"Cas, get back!"
Castiel lurched backward, still gripping the angel's hands, and Sam went in for the kill. He drove his blade into the angel's heart, and once again, light spewed. He tore it out, blood flying, and then he looked at Castiel.
"You good?"
Castiel nodded, and then they were both jumping to their feet. They turned toward the conflict, and Sam tried to take everything in as fast as he could, struggling to keep his brain focused.
Ellen and Jo were back-to-back, facing off against two angels, and John and Bobby were in a similar situation, only they were fighting three. Dean was on his own against two, and then there was Gabriel. Gabriel was surrounded by four or five angels, and he was repeatedly blasting them with grace from his hands.
"Gabriel! Do you need help?" Sam shouted.
"Help your family, Sammy!" was his response. "I'll be fine!"
Sam panted, his vision blurring, and he looked to Castiel. "Let's help Dad and Bobby, and then we'll go help Dean."
Castiel nodded, and the two took off, Sam staggering slightly. Castiel took the lead, and he tackled the angel Bobby was trying to stab. He pressed his hands against the angel's chest, grace glowing between his fingers.
"We got this one!" Sam waved Bobby along. "Go help Dad!"
Sam crouched down by the angel's head and lifted his blade, driving it down into the angel's heart. He pulled the weapon back out and immediately looked at Bobby and John, trying to decide if they had things under control. It looked like maybe they did, so Sam turned to Dean.
"Come on." Sam nudged Castiel on the arm, getting to his feet.
Woah.
The world spun, dropping him back down to his knees, and he finally took a moment to address the stabbing pain in his side. He looked at his abdomen, and while it was hard to see against the dark fabric, he could tell it was soaked in blood. He lifted the fabric and took a look at his side, spying what looked like a stab wound that was happily gushing blood.
"Cas…?" Sam looked up and his vision blurred. "I think… I need you to heal…"
And that was the last thing Sam heard before he went under.