Saint Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle; be our defense against the wickedness and snares of the devil. May God rebuke him, we humbly pray. And do thou, O prince of the heavenly host, by the power of God thrust into hell Satan and all the evil spirits who prowl about the world for the ruin of souls. Amen.
Jamie shivered under the weight of Dean's green utility jacket, her sapphire eyes searching the night sky helplessly. The sky that had been lit by the torches of angel's wings was now as dark and still as the concrete road beneath the tires of her brother's baby. Dean sped the Impala onward, not stopping, not hesitating.
Sam was draped across her lap, his giant form dwarfed by the invisible force draining his life before his siblings' eyes. His breathing became increasingly labored with each second, and Dean glanced back occasionally, his eyes holding the question Jamie prayed she'd never have to answer.
Her power was all but gone. In the final moments she but blinked and realized her sight, the power that had flowed in her veins her entire life and had burned within her from the moment her eldest brother entered the gates of hell, was no more. She had no power to see into the future, no ability to project her soul or conjure fire, and the telepathic link she had shared with Sam from the time they had reunited ten long years ago had withered and broken. Only the manifestations of her psychic abilities remained, telekinesis and visions. And her visions were now scattered and unreliable; she lacked the control her prophet status had brought over them. Her emotions unbound, the one they had hailed as the voice crying out in the desert wept.
A few hours later she's sitting on the edge of Sam's hospital bed. There is a tube in his nose and his arm is strapped to a beeping monitor. Dean sits at the bedside, looking worried, but also silent. Jamie's hand come up to either side of Sam's head and she squeezes her eyes shut. Her face is red and streaked with tears. Dean turns his head to look at a television screen in the room, which shows pictures of the falling angels falling. The news headline reads "Global Meteor Shower." After a minute he looks back at Jamie. "Anything?" He asks quietly.
"I can't." Her voice is hoarse, heavy with tears. "I can't anymore, Dean." She opens her eyes and starts to cry. "I can't." Dean lunges forward and pulls her into a tight embrace as she sobs.
The doctor comes in with the scans. Jamie composes herself, wiping her eyes viciously as she gets up beside Dean. He grips her hand as they silently look over the medical scans of Sam's brain, waiting for the doctor to explain.
"The MRI shows massive internal burns affecting many of the major organs. Oxygen to the brain has been severely deprived. The coma is the result of the body doing everything in its limited power to protect itself from further harm." The doctor's voice is watered down with sympathy.
"Oh god!" Jamie claws at her heart with her free hand.
Dean squeezes her other hand. "This wasn't supposed to happen." He mutters.
"If your brother continues on this trajectory, the machines might keep him alive, but –"
"He'll be dead." Dean finishes as he reaches over and pulls Jamie closer to him, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.
The doctor nods. "Technically, yes. I'm afraid so." More sympathy. It makes the young psychic sick. It makes her brother angry.
Dean tries to break through the sympathy, to get the raw, final answer out of the doc. "So, there's – there's no recovery? I mean, there's no bounce-back. There's no nothing."
"No hope." Jamie mutters.
"I'm afraid that's in God's hands now." The doctor replies.
Instantly the emotions shift for the siblings. Jamie's sapphire eyes role up to the doctor, her face tightening in anger. Dean's upper lip twitches, his voice becoming dangerously low. "You're a doctor. You're a medical professional. You're trying to tell us that our brother's life is in God's hands? What, is that supposed to be a – a comfort?"
"God isn't going to just come over here and cure him! You, science, medicine, knowledge, you are suppose to know how make his body better! There's no God in the equation." Jamie yells.
"Mr. Dougherty, Miss Dougherty, I didn't mean –"
"That's not good enough." Dean sneers as he walks out of the hospital room and into a corridor, dragging Jamie behind him. He sees a sign pointing to the hospital chapel. He turns to face his sister, sighing as he glances at the sign again. "Why…why don't you check on the kids. Make sure they're alright."
Jamie nods after a moment. "I will."
"I will…find a way to fix this. Find a way to fix him." Dean promises her. She nods again, patting his arm before walking down the hall.
He's gone to pray to Castiel. To pray to all angels if he has to. She hopes her children, their children, inherit his fierce determinism, his unyielding loyalty, and his willingness to sacrifice everything for his family. She cannot be so bold, she is weak where he is strong. The uncertainty, the unpredictability, and the very real chance of failure and defeat terrifies her to the very pit of her heart. Her world is dark with her powers gone, and she cannot find the light, though she gropes for it.
The sounds of her fingers against the buttons of the cellphone are almost unbarable. Robin's voice on the line is just another swordlash against her heart. Until finally Mark's light "Mama?" rings in her ears. "Angels, mama, they hurt."
"Yes Mark, the angels are hurt." She swallows thickly. "How about you? Are you okay?"
"Feel…bad, Mama." Her heart almost stops. She wonders if he's been affected. If his powers have been stripped. "I want you, an Daddy." He tells her.
"I know. I know, baby. Uncle Sam is hurt and he's not good at all."
"I help him?" Her heart breaks over the question. She looks over to find Dean standing there, watching her. "I help?"
Tears run down her face as she puts her hand over the phone. "No Cas?" Dean shakes his head.
"Does he have his powers?" Dean asks. Jamie is quiet for a moment. She closes her eyes. She focuses. Her fingers turn white against the phone. She sees their son. She sees him move his toy across the room, and nods in confirmation. Her head throbs when she opens her eyes. Not in 10 years has she had such a headache. "I put out an APB to all angels. I'll stay here and wait for them, you go get our kids."
"No." She says after a moment, and shakes her head. "No, it's safer if we're apart. The angels won't know where they are if we're not with them. Otherwise they'll try to use them against us. Here…talk to your son." Dean sighs in reluctance and takes the phone from his sister.
"Oh, you mean like the way one of you idjits does some "bass-ackwards" crazy thing to beat death, like sell your soul?"
The voice is ghostly, quiet as it reaches Jamie's ears. "Bobby?" She whispers, her eyes instantly searching the room. They are back at Sam's bedside. Dean has his face in his hands. He doesn't look up.
"Exactly like selling my soul." Her eyes go to Dean but it's clear he hasn't spoken. They finally fall on Sam. Jamie holds her breath and after a moment she closes her eyes.
"Yeah, like that worked so well the last time."
When Jamie opens her eyes she's sitting in the backseat of the Impala, beside Bobby. Dean is driving, and Sam is in the passenger seat. Obviously they've been arguing by how riled up Dean seems and how edgy Bobby is. "Oh!" Dean dismissively waves his hand, slamming it back down on the steering wheel.
"What's going on?" She breathes, and the three other occupants turn to acknowledge her presence.
"Jamie? What are you doing here?" Dean asks, glancing back at her in the mirror.
"Wait? Is she not…me?" Sam asks in confusion, turning around to look at his sister.
"You? What?" She makes the mistake of blinking. When she opens her eyes again she's back in the hospital room. Dean is leaning against the window frame, staring at her. She shakes her head and blinks again, unsure of what has just happened. When she looks up a woman has appeared in the doorway. She looks prim and proper and Jamie eyes her with suspicion.
Dean on the other hand, greets her with caution. "Hi. I'm just gonna break the ice. Are you an angel?"
The woman smiles kindly. "Sometimes I wish I were. My name is Kim Schortz, and I'm a grief counsellor here at the hospital."
Jamie glances to Dean, moving to his side as he sighs, the small spark of hope he had now gone. "Right. Yeah. Uh... Sorry. I'm just tired."
"Right, uh what my brother is trying to say is, all due respect, but, uh, we're not grieving." Jamie tries to tell the woman politely, though she has the feeling it won't be that easy to get rid of her.
"Not yet at least." Dean adds. "So –"
She's quick to cut Dean off. "I'm afraid, as hard as this may be, this might be a good time to talk... about the inevitable."
Jamie is quick to hold Dean back. His demeanor changes from slightly annoyed to slightly pissed off, and she knows they can't afford a scene. Not without knowing if there are angels on the way. Her hand flies to his chest, keeping him at a distance from the woman, Kim, if Jamie reminds right, even as he straightens fully and stares menacingly at her. "Let it go, Dean." She whispers.
He grabs the hand she's laid on his chest and brushes it aside. "Look, I'm sure you're a nice person and that you mean well, but "inevitable" – that's a fightin' word where I come from." He tells her straight up, trying to control his anger. He doesn't need this right now. "There's always a way."
"And I am a prayerful woman who believes in miracles as much as the next, but I also know how to read an EEG." Jamie can't help but roll her eyes. The woman clearly doesn't know when to shut up. "And unless you're telling me you have a direct line to those angels that you were looking for –"
Dean looks away. Jamie crosses her arms and turns her head towards the window. "Yeah, no, I, uh... Guess I don't." He mumbles, but after a moment realization seems to strike. "But I might have something better." Her head comes up at his words and she turns back to him. Instantly the realization hits her as well and a smile spreads across her features.
"We got the King of Hell in our trunk." She hurries to the door and Dean quickly follows after her.
"Uh, is – is that... I'm sorry. Is that a metaphor?" The woman calls behind them.
When they reach the Impala Dean raps on the trunk. Jamie stands a few feet back, watching the lot. "Crowley, listen up, you son of a bitch. One for yes, two for no. You alive?" There is no response.
"Crowley, come on!" Jamie yells.
"You heard the lady, come on, don't be a pouter." From inside the trunk there is a single raping noise. "There we go." Dean comments, pleased with himself.
"Dean!" Jamie suddenly shouts. A man in a suit grabs Dean by the back of the neck and holds and angel knife against his throat.
"You prayed?" He mutters threateningly, as Jamie stops short, her eyes focused on the knife.
"Yeah, for help." Dean strains, trying to loosen the iron grip on his throat.
"Yes. You'll be helping me."
"I don't think so." Jamie jumps up and kicks him in the face, landing painfully on the ground as her knees buckle underneath her. Her telekinesis is no longer strong enough to keep her body afloat. The angel, knife in hand, whirls around, slashing at the air around the former prophetess. She narrowly avoids the blade, jumping back against the feeling of metal all too near her skin.
Dean tries to kick the blade from his hand, but he throws Dean back against the Impala with barely any effort. "Dean!" Jamie yells again, watching her brother crumble to the ground. But she has her own problems as the angel again turns his sight on her. She throws both hands straight out in front of her, but her power is so diminished it only pushes the angel back a few steps, and within moments he's on her, the blade against her throat. "Jamie Winchester, we meet at last. If you lie to me, I will rip your throat out. Where is Castiel?"
"I don't know!" She replies defiantly, struggling to get away from the knife.
"Every angel who was ejected from their home is looking for him."
"I told you I don't know where Castiel is, and even if I did, I wouldn't tell you." She sneers. The angel brutally slams her against the hood of the Impala. She cries out at the force of the impact. It's been a long time since an angel threw her around like this, and she realizes her position, her title, is finally forfeit. He raises the angel knife, but another angel, in a hoodie, catches his arm from behind.
"Easy there, brother. These two young people have prayed for our assistance. Are we creatures of wrath or compassion? I would argue the latter." He tells the other angel softly.
"Forgive me, brother. I don't recognize you." The first replies, his arm still raised, the knife gleaming threateningly.
"Happy to make your re-acquaintance. After you disarm."
The first angel holds up his hands placating, then punches the second. The hoodie-clothed angel wipes his face. "Come, now. Is that any way to treat a brother injured in the fall?" As they fight the angel knife falls to the ground. The angel in the suit flings the other into a van, breaking the window glass. Jamie groans as she gets to her feet in time to see Dean stab the first angel with the angel knife. He dies in a blinding flash of white light.
Jamie forces herself over to the other angel, obviously injured. He has blood on his face and he leans against the van for support. "Who are you?" Dean asks, standing over him. Jamie drops to her knees in front of him, looking him up and down.
"Never mind me." He's breathing heavily. His eyes rolls towards Jamie. "Prophetess, it is an honor. Forgive me for not adequately protecting you. Are you quite injured?"
"I'm not the prophetess anymore." She says softly. "And I'll live."
His attention turns then, back to Dean. "You're Dean Winchester. I heard your prayer, and I am here to help." As he finishes speaking, he promptly passes out and slides to the ground.
Dean raises an eyebrow, glancing from the angel to his sister. "Okay." He reaches over and pulls Jamie to her feet. "You're rusty." He tells her.
"My powers are all but gone." She shoots back. "Kind of hard to fight a tank with a pitchfork."
The angel awakes to find himself imprisoned in a ring of holy fire. Dean and Jamie, wearing identically weary looks pace in opposite directions around him. He eyes them both, though his gaze falls on Dean. "You want to help?" The older hunter asks, his voice low and menacing. The time for bargaining is gone, his tone clear that he wants to hear only the truth from the angel's mouth. "Start with a name."
"Ezekiel." He doesn't hesitate, he's completely resigned to his captors. Jamie's chin comes up at the sound of his name. She gives him a puzzled look for a moment.
"Ezekiel." She repeats. It sounds familiar in her mouth. "I know you." Dean's gaze falls then to his sister. She glances at her brother, waiting patiently for an explanation. "He was one of the few who stood with Castiel and I when we cast Raphael from Heaven."
"Hmm." Dean takes this in, but shows no change in emotion. He walks towards the flames. "How do I know you're not hunting me or my sister or Castiel like the other angels?"
The angel's expression is one of amusement if only for a passing moment. "Oh, I'm sure there are many angels who are. Many more are on their way here, most likely."
"How do you know that?" Dean shoots back. At his side Jamie grows rigid, her skin turning paler then her normal pallet.
Ezekiel does not fail to catch the panic that overtakes the youngest Winchester's face. "You put out an open prayer like that..." He says calmly to her brother.
"I must really be desperate." Dean finishes, a hint of a smirk now on his features. Jamie's color returns to normal but only just as Ezekiel gets to his feet.
"Believe it or not, some of us still do believe in our mission. And that means we believe in Castiel, in you, Jamie...and you." He says at last to Dean.
"You said you were hurt during the fall." Jamie says softly, her eyes avoiding the angel.
He nods. "I was. Entangling with my brother back there did me no favors. But what strength I have left, I offer to you."
Dean raises his chin at the words, tilting his head as though considering, but his mind is already made up. He cannot afford to lose this opportunity, it may be his last hope of saving his little brother, and he'd be damned if he didn't take it.
"You don't trust him." It's not a question that forms on Jamie's lips as she and Dean lead Ezekiel to Sam's hospital room.
Dean doesn't stop, and he doesn't look at her. "Of course I don't. But what choice do I have? Do we have?"
She nods, glancing just slightly over her shoulder. "You should."
They reach Sam's room without another word. Jamie moves swiftly to the edge of the bed, taking her position at her twin's side. Dean come around to stand at the end, while Ezekiel takes the opposite side. Carefully, slowly, he puts a hand on Sam's chest. "You still able to cure things after the fall?" Dean finally asks, breaking the unsettling silence.
The angel fails to glance up. "Yes, I should be, but... he's so weak."
Jamie closes her eyes at the words, though she knows them to be true, hearing them strikes her hard. She and Sam have not been on the best of terms in years and it shows. She remembers back to before Lucifer was released, remembers the hatred and the betrayal, remembers feeling ready to sacrifice the man she shared their mother's womb with for the greater good. And then she remembers Sam holding her son hours after his birth, remembers his strong arms around her as her daughter came into the world. She remembers the nights leading to the final trial, when Dean would fall asleep reading to their son and Sam would be the brother she slept beside. They talked of Sam's fears, of his uncertainty, of his insecurity. Remembering, in her heart, she has forgiven him a long time ago, and she only wants to tell him that.
The sound of Dean's phone going off startles her from her thoughts. "Who is this?" Whoever it is, and she discovers with undesirable surprise that she does not know, causing Dean to walk out of the room.
"It is gone then, your gift." Ezekiel's eyes lock unto her once Dean is gone.
"Yes." She answers, her voice grave, mourning almost, though she tries to hide it. She will not admit it, but it scares her to be face to face with a weakness she has not had to confront in many years. Her own humanity, her own mortality.
"The angels feel it too, the loss of the prophetess. Some think it means you are dead. They worry for your children, they wish to protect them."
"And others will seek them out and destroy them. My son because of Castiel, and my daughter because she is mine. You know where I have hidden them, you have seen it in my mind. Do not tell a soul where they are."
"Not all gone, I see. Your natural psychic ability remains."
"Yes. And I must relearn it all again, without the aid of-" She inhales sharply, her eyes rising to the ceiling and then around her. Ezekiel begins to sense it as well. "Angels." She whispers as rumbling fills the building.
In a moment Dean returns. "One of yours?"
Ezekiel nods. "Trying to secure a vessel. We need to move."
Jamie gets to her feet, but Dean holds his hand out. "No, no. If we move him, he dies."
"If we stay, we could all die."
A thought comes over Dean. He picks up a whiteboard marker and draws an Enochian symbol on the walls. Jamie quickly realizes what he's doing and grabs another marker, starting on the opposite wall. When they are finished the older hunter turns back to the angel. "Long as these are up, no angels are coming in. No one's coming out. You gonna be okay with these?"
Ezekiel eyes them carefully. "I'll manage." A ringing noise suddenly fills his ears, causing him noticeable discomfort.
"What?" Dean questions.
"They're here." Jamie answers for him.
Dean nods, licking his lips in anticipation. "Okay. Do not open this door for anybody but me." He gestures firmly to their brother. "Save him, you hear me?"
Both siblings rush from the room, running swiftly down the hall as glass flies from every window. "Jamie pull the fire alarm!" Dean instructs. She slides to the end of the hall, the glass slippery under her boots, but she grabs the device firmly and pulls. "Everybody out! Now! Get out!" Dean yells at occupants hurrying away from the broken glass.
Jamie notices the grief councilor laying unconscious on the floor. "Dean!" She points, her voice wavers a little.
Dean rushes over to the help the woman. "Hey. You got to get out of here." He helps her up. "Come on. Come on."
The man in overalls comes around a corner, carrying an angel knife. Jamie jumps up and kicks him in the chest, sending him sprawling into the wall. "Whoa." Dean backs up, pushing the woman behind him. "Stay behind me." The angel straightens up and swings at Jamie. She ducks, and he kicks her in the side. Her ribs break with a sickening sound as she falls to the floor. "Jamie!" Dean pulls out his own angel knife, about to charge the angel, but the woman punches him from behind, then grabs him by the throat and lifts him off the ground.
The angel punches Jamie in the face, while the woman throws Dean back into the wall. He slumps to the floor. The two angels drag the siblings down the corridor, which is covered in broken glass, and drop them beside each other unto the floor. "Let me make this easy – tell me where Castiel is, or your brother's gonna wish he were dead." The woman hisses.
"Never." Jamie seeths, her mouth covered in blood.
"Yeah, good luck getting past the warding." Dean adds.
"But we will." She tells them as the first angel breaks the glass around a fire axe. The woman hauls Dean upright. "And when we do, I'm gonna strip off all his skin, and you're gonna watch."
"Bite me." Dean tells her. She punches him, sending him flying to the ground. He groans, laughs and gets to his knees. "Anybody ever tell you you hit like an angel?" She kick him and he falls backwards and lies still.
Jamie gets on her feet and kicks the woman in the back. The first angel, axe in hand, grabs her by the back of her shirt and throws her into the wall. She falls to the ground unconscious. He then uses the axe to break through the door in the middle of an Enochian symbol.
Dean, his face bloody, is slammed against a wall in the corridor by the woman. He slides down the wall to the floor, his back to the angels. The man pulls the axe out of the door. Dean holds up a hand. "Okay, wait, wait, wait, wait. I'll tell you where Cas is. I just have one question."
The two angels glance at each other. "Ask." The woman demands. Jamie moans a little as she starts to come to.
"If Heaven is locked, then where do you go when I do this?" Dean slams his hand down onto an angel banishing sigil he's drawn on the floor using his blood. White light floods the corridor. The angels yell in pain. When the light fades, the angels are gone. "Jamie." Dean pushes himself up unto his feet, walking over to his sister.
"Ugh." Jamie moans in pain when Dean pulls her up. He draps her arm around his shoulders.
"Shh. You're okay, you're okay." He tells her as he drags her to the door and kicks it open. The monitor on Sam is beeping loudly. Ezekiel sits by the bed with a hand to his side, he looks calm despite the obvious noise.
"What the hell's happening?" Dean demands as he helps Jamie down unto the bed next to Sam.
Ezekiel gestures to the monitor. "This just started. And the warding. I'm afraid I'm weaker than I thought."
"Dean. The sigils." Jamie says quietly, weakly pointing to the wall. Dean grabs a marker and starts crossing out the sigils.
"I am sorry, Dean." Ezekiel mutters, a hint of defeat in his voice.
Dean shakes his head, going back over to the bed. "No. No, no, no. No, we had a deal, okay? I fight. You save."
"Dean." Jamie says softly, raising her head painfully. There's defeat in her voice.
"And would that I could." Ezekiel shoots back. "I'm just afraid it's too late." He says the last part softer, and Jamie turns to look at him, frowning deeply.
"Are you kidding me? Are you saying there's no way to save my brother's life?"
"No good ways." Jamie mutters, casting a sideglance at Dean. She knows what Ezekiel is thinking. The last possible option they have.
"Well, what are the bad ones? We're out of options here, man. Good or bad, let me hear them."
Ezekiel glances at Jamie, waiting for her reaction. She finally nods, her eyes falling on Sam. The angel turns back to Dean. "I cannot promise, but there is a chance I can fix your brother from the inside."
"From the inside. So, what, you gonna open him up?" The hunter asks, not understanding. But when Ezekiel shakes his head, Dean realizes exactly what he means. "What, possession?"
he looks at Jamie, hoping he's wrong, but from the dark expression on his sister's face he knows that's not the case. "You want to possess Sam?"
"I told you." The angel replies, deadpanned.
Dean shakes his head, his face dark and guarded. "No way."
"Understood. It's your call."
"No, it's Sam's call. There's no way in hell he'd say yes to being possessed by anything."
"He would rather die." Jamie whispers. Dean nods ruefully. Ezekiel gets painfully to his feet and waves a hand in front of the monitor, silencing it.
"I'll leave you three alone, then." He says quietly, heading for the door.
Jamie gets to her own feet, holding unto the bed for support as she moves over to Dean. He catches her, holds her up using his own body for support. They lock eyes, sapphire against emerald, the way they read each other's souls. Finally after what seems like a very long time in only a few short seconds Dean turns back to Ezekiel. "Wait." Ezekiel pauses at the door, turning to look at Dean over his shoulder. After a moment he walks back over to the bed, waiting for Dean to continue. "If I consider this – and I mean just consider it – I need something, man. You got to prove to me how bad he is."
Ezekiel nods and puts a hand on Sam's forehead. "Close your eyes." Jamie says to Dean. He does so and Ezekiel puts his other hand on Dean's forehead. Jamie grabs Dean's arm tightly, squeezing her own eyes shut.
They enter Sam's mind. They see what he sees. The cabin, the fire, Sam and Death seated in armchairs around it. "I must admit, when I heard it was you..." Death is saying. "Well, I had to come myself."
"I bet you get off on this." Sam comments offhandedly.
"Perhaps. But not in the way you assume. I consider it to be quite the honor to be collecting the likes of Sam Winchester. I try so hard not to pass judgment at times like this – not my bag, you see, but you... Well played, my boy." Death tells him.
Sam is quiet for a moment. "I need to know one thing."
"Yes." It isn't a question as Death waits for the younger Winchester to continue.
"If I go with you... can you promise that this time it will be final? That if I'm dead, I stay dead. Nobody can reverse it, nobody can deal it away... and nobody else can get hurt because of me."
Death's expression does not change, but he makes the slightest gesture of assuredness. "I can promise that."
Ezekiel takes his hand away from Dean's forehead. Jamie gasps as she opens her eyes, staring up into Dean's. Dean looks from her to Sam. "What the hell you doing, Sam?"
"As you can see, there's not much time."
"I know. Damn it. I know." Dean says quietly. "How will it work?" He asks after a moment.
Ezekiel is still holding his side. Jamie moves with pained, concentrated movements over to the angel, pressing her own hand tenderly against his side. He looks down at her, a hint of a smile on his face before again addressing Dean. "Mutual benefit, I suppose. I heal Sam while healing myself."
"And when he's healed?" Jamie asks quietly.
"I leave. It's the best of a bad situation, Dean."
Dean hesitates. "Even if I said yes, it doesn't mean squat. Sam will never say yes – not to you."
"But he would say yes to you." Ezekiel and Jamie tell him, speaking at the same time.
"What do you mean?"
"Ezekiel would use your visage to convince Sam to say yes." Jamie explains, straightening a little as she holds her own side.
"Trick him, you mean." Dean puts his hand on the back of his head, not liking this one bit. "Fine. Do it. Hurry." Ezekiel nods, putting his hand on Sam's forehead again. Dean pulls Jamie back over to him, and she leans against him. "Is it working?" He asks her after a moment.
She closes her eyes. She doesn't see anything, but an echo of a whisper fills her ears. "There ain't no me if there ain't no you." She mouths and then opens her eyes. "Yes." She tells her brother just as white light fills the room. "He said yes."
Not long after the three siblings emerge from the hospital. Sam is fully dressed, but Dean and Jamie are still bloody and bruised. "So? How's it look in there?" Dean asks, turning to Sam.
"Not good. There is much work to be done." Sam speaks, but it is clearly not him, rather it is Ezekiel in Sam's body. He moves stiffly, his mannerisms clearly foreign.
"Yeah, but he's gonna wake up, right?" Dean questions. Jamie squeezes his hand.
"He will." Ezekiel assures him.
"So, what he does – what, is he gonna feel you inside, triaging his spleen?"
Jamie shakes her head. "It doesn't work like that, Dean."
"He will not feel me, no. There is no reason for Sam to know I'm in here at all." Ezekiel explains further.
Dean stops walking. "You're joking. No, this is – this is too big."
Ezekiel also stops, turning to look at Dean. "And what will he do if you do tell him he is possessed by an angel?"
"Well, he'll have to understand."
"And if he does not? Without his acceptance, Sam can eject me at any time, especially with me so weak."
"And if Sam does that, he'll die, Dean." Jamie tells him, moving her hair back of her face as she speaks.
Dean sighs, all of this is clearly against his better judgement. This is the choice of a desperate man, and Dean knows just how desperate he is. "Then we keep it a secret for now. Or until Sam's well enough that he doesn't need an angelic pacemaker or I find a way to tell him. I - I... As for him being in a hospital, I'll have to figure something out." Jamie pulls Dean's hand to her chest, holding it affectingly to let her brother know it's alright.
"I can erase it all, if you like. He will not remember any of this." Ezekiel tells him.
Later that night the Impala speeds down a deserted highway. Dean is at the wheel, Sam asleep in the passenger seat, and Jamie asleep in the back. Sam quietly stirs and then lifts his head, looking around as though confused. "Where are we?"
"Whoa. Sam?" Dean glances at his brother and then at the road.
"What?" Sam asks, moving again.
"Okay, take – take it easy. How you, uh – how you feeling?" Dean tries to keep a handle on his emotions, avoiding sounding suspicious.
"Tired." The little brother answers honestly. "Like I – like I slept for a week." His face crumbles in more confusion.
"Well, try a day." Dean says, a hint of amusement in his voice. "You've been out since the sky was spittin' angels."
"Since what was spitting angels?" Jamie asks, finally coming around. She opens her eyes and then moves to sit up seeing Sam awake. Sam glances back at her and then to Dean.
"What the hell happened?"
Dean pauses. "What do you remember?" Jamie moves closer to them, curious to hear Sam's answer.
Sam thinks for a minute. "The church, feeling like crap, the angels falling, and that's it."
"But you're feeling good?" Jamie asks him, cautiously. Her eyes dart from Sam to Dean and back again.
"Yeah. I mean, I just, um... You've been driving around with me passed out in the passenger's seat for a day?"
Dean chuckles. "Oh, I mean, I stopped, you know, let a few Japanese tourists take some pictures. Nobody got too handsy. I knew you'd pull through." Jamie tries to smile, and she resists reaching out and hugging her twin brother for all he's worth. "I meant what I said at the church. You're capable of anything, Sam, and hell if you didn't prove me right." Dean finishes.
Sam nods, turning back to look at the road. "Good. 'Cause we got work to do."