Chapter title is from song by Breaking Benjamin.
51
Angels Fall – Breaking Benjamin
It'd been a rough week.
He slid into the seat next to Zee, because that was what they did now. Apparently. Sam had parked his ass squarely in the middle of the bench over on his side of the diner table—deliberately, Dean was sure—and he leveled Sam a glare. He couldn't tell Sam that it was unnerving, having to sit there through the entirety of a meal, knowing she was right there but only able to sense her with his human senses. To feel the heat and warmth she radiated by his side, to smell the scent of clean skin and soap with his every breath. Her hair was still damp from when she had washed it, and he wanted to trace the damp tendril that curled against her neck.
He pulled his eyes away by sheer will.
"How's the ankle?"
She slanted him a sideways glance and shrugged.
He scowled at the carelessness in that shrug. Garth had traipsed them from one job to another over the last week, and the one thing he had learned was that she took too many chances. She'd shoved Sam out of the way when a watery hand reached up from the depths of Pyramid Lake, her blade already out on a downward arc before Sam had managed a backward step, one swipe through fingers made of water that latched on to her ankle and pulled her under before he could even say boo. And then it'd taken him precious minutes to find her, swimming blind in the depths of the lake. It'd been too close a call, and all she did was shrug.
"Maybe holy oil, next time." Sam was saying. "I mean, you can't cut water into pieces, and water won't burn. But holy oil would probably do it."
"Yeah, maybe." He answered absently.
"Well, well. That's very commendable of you, Dean."
He jerked up at the vaguely familiar voice, startled by Inias standing right next to the table—and how the hell had Scruffy managed to creep up on him like that?
Inias' eyes flashed a glowing white.
Not angel blue. That wasn't Inias.
Shit.
He had his palm open for the First Blade when a steak knife on the table started to spin.
"Shall we play spin the knife, Dean?" Whoever-it-was smiled at him. "Who will you save first, hmm? Sam? The girl?"
The taunt was 'd last heard it in a church in Geary.
Fallen.
"Suriel." He snarled, remembering the other name Cas had mentioned. "Your buddy Arkas sends his greetings. Oh wait. That's right. He can't, because he's a smear on the road right about now. You sure you want to try your luck?"
"Ah. Yes. That's why we hitched a ride this time, Dean. You wouldn't want to hurt poor hapless Inias, would you? He's still in here—sort of. His eggs are a bit scrambled, but that's the cost of doing business. You can have him back when we're done." Surielmade a careless gesture at Sam, and Sam slid helplessly sideways in his seat, involuntarily making room for Suriel.
Suriel seated himself and smiled at the rapidly spinning knife. "Your restraint is remarkable, Dean. We thought you'd be further along. I mean, really, messing around with holy oil when you have the First Blade, while how many of your hunter buddies are biting the dust?"
Besides Suriel Sam stiffened. He hadn't asked what had gone down when Sam had talked to Garth this morning, or yesterday morning, or the morning before that. He hadn't asked, while they'd been fooling around, doing this thing that Sam wanted to do, and not doing their job.
"Dean." Sam got out. "It's…"
"Bad?" Suriel injected. "So bad. Your friends are getting killed out there, Dean. And yet you're just sitting here, enjoying a meal. But wait. That's what usually happens to your friends anyways, isn't it, Dean? So I guess it's just business as usual for you."
The bastard was baiting him, and it would have worked, except he'd heard all this once before. He leaned back casually in his seat.
"Demon." He said coolly. "We don't do friends. Besides, your buddy Arkas already tried that line. Don't you have any new tricks up your sleeve?"
Suriel smiled. "Oh, but we do. It was a surprise to us, but seeing how you're so bent on doing things the good old-fashioned human way, we decided to help with that. We can tell you how to take that Mark off your arm so you can be a real boy again."
Dean scoffed. "And why the hell would I want that?"
"You're a cool customer, Dean. I like it. But there'll come a time when you'll want that Mark off your arm." Suriel reached across the table and stole the burger off his plate. "And Ramiel wants you to remember that there is always hope for those who seek it."
Suriel took a bite of his burger, releasing a faint whiff of eggs gone south.
Beside him Zee tensed. He didn't start when he felt her right hand slide over his under the table, fingers moving over his left palm, careful and precise—press press tap tap. He recognized the rhythm of it, morse code.
Z.
Second letter, o.
m.
He glanced sharply at Zee. That wasn't possible.
The look he got back was sharp and irritated. She was sure.
Suriel shoved the rest of the burger into his mouth.
Angels didn't eat. But zombies... and Suriel was chomping down on his burger like it was the best thing ever in between stealing spoonfuls of potato salad off Sam's plate.
"So what do you say, Dean?" Suriel asked around a mouthful of potato. "It's a win-win. We get to spread the word of Hope, and you get to be a real boy again. We won't even take it personally if you go right back to fighting us the human way, like the stubborn soul you are."
He stared harder at Suriel, whatever he was.
"Yeah. Think I'll pass."
Suriel turned to the softer target, or maybe the one who had been his mark all along. Sam, with his overly attentive ears and the over eager eyes, lapping up the snake oil the Fallen was selling.
"Think about it. All the upsides are yours. We can take the Mark off Dean's arm, and call it square. You'll just be ordinary old pains-in-the-asses." Suriel eyed him shrewdly. "Nothing special. No pressing reason to focus on you. Or," Suriel's eyes flicked to the amulet around Zee's neck. "…yours."
Toby.
He tensed, feeling Zee's fingers tightening over his fisted hand. He leaned forward so abruptly that Suriel jerked back.
"You leave the kid alone."
The Fallen shrugged. "For now. Think about it, Dean, and come find us when you're ready. To show you our word's good, here's Inias back, as promised. I would have kept him, entertainment value and all, but the Boss insisted we return all items to sender. Your boy here," Suriel tapped his own skull, Inias' skull, "showed an amazing amount of loyalty to his commander. Scrubbed his own noggin rather than give away Castiel's twenty. Impressive, but foolish. Because you know what that leaves you with?" Suriel grinned. "A walking talking blob of grace, with no CPU. Bit of a ticking bomb, those." Suriel stood. "So, you know, best of luck."
Suriel tipped his head back. Smoke, not grace, poured out of his mouth, only it was a bright white, glowing smoke that burned. Dean hissed, jerking back, squeezing his eyes tightly shut. The bright whiteness seared against his skin, against the insides of his eyelids. It boiled down his throat like the brightness of grace and soul, tinged with the heavy reek of sulfur. He scrambled backward as far as the bench seat would allow, needing to get away from the heated brightness, everything a swirl of unbearable heat and scalding pain until Zee's hand closed on his elbow, anchoring him to the present. He cracked one eye open cautiously, to see Sam staring at him in shock. He brought one hand up to wipe at his eyes, and his hand came away wet with blood.
"What…the hell…was THAT?"
Sam shook his head with concern. "It sure as hell wasn't an angel. It smelled like sulfur. But that wasn't," and Sam paused, looking across at him to verify, "a demon either."
No shit. The white smoke may have been smoke, and it may have smelled like sulfur, but it was no demon. Whatever they had done—the Fallen—Suriel wasn't like Arkas at all. It had felt like when he'd run into Alfie in his head, the nuclear charge of a human soul, bright, bright and he couldn't see, laced over with the brilliance of an angel's grace, tumbled into the murkiness that was demon smoke. Whatever it was, he could barely look at it. And it was powerful enough to body-jack an actual angel.
Inias, the real Inias, slumped sideways into Sam's hastily outstretched arms.
"BaMaHmmm." Inias muttered groggily. "BaghmahumMa."
What the? "Is that Enochian? Is he speaking Enochian?"
Sam frowned.
"No Dean, I think that's just…gibberish."
Dean let his eyes go dark cautiously as he inspected the scruffy, slumped over angel. The shredded feathers on still bleeding wings, and grace, real grace, far too bright for him to stare too long at, pulsed within Inias' thin frame. Pulsed dangerously, like a reactor about to blow. Sensing his attention, Inias turned towards him. Seeing him, Inias curled his lip disdainfully, one palm coming up open and glowing.
Sam yanked on Inias' arm.
"INIAS." Sam commanded urgently. "Look at me. Look at me. We're friends, remember?" Sam grabbed the glowing angel by the cheeks and forcefully turned Inias' head. It was a stupid move, but Sam was human, and Inias' palm dimmed down to human skin.
Sam shook Inias gently. "Hey there. Hey, Inias. Do you remember me? It's Sam. Sam Winchester."
Inias stared at Sam blankly, blue eyes wide without recognition. "MmmmblarghgumMhmm." Inias garbled out, still glowing on-and-off erratically. "Messblarghage."
Inias' eyes rolled back up in his head and he blinked out like a light.
"We've got to get him out of here." She bumped against Dean when Dean didn't move. He was stiff and tense and she nudged him again.
"Yeah." Dean said finally, and shook himself. "Sam."
Sam was already half-shouldering, half-lifting Inias out of the seat, one of Inias' arms looped over Sam's shoulders. Dean moved forward to pick up the slack. His jaw clenched tight when Inias flinched away, even in his unconscious state, but he ducked under Inias' other arm anyway.
Zee stood up behind him. She smiled at the approaching waitress, a vague gesture with her hand to suggest their party had been crashed by their very drunk friend, and pulled out a hefty tip to distract from the fact that there was still a halo of light flickering around Inias in a very not-normal way.
"Fuck." Dean muttered under his breath. "Just how much of his hard drive did he erase?"
"Too much." Sam replied grimly, flinching as a surge of grace arced between Inias' fingers, scorching against his skin. Between them the brothers manhandled Inias out the door of the diner and into the cool night. Sam glanced around the half full parking lot, worrying at his lower lip.
"Dean." Sam started.
"Yeah, I know."
The parking lot was hemmed in by the diner on one side and by the Lazy Laguna Motel on the other. She didn't know what the blast radius for an angelic meltdown was, but smack in the middle of Fernley was probably a bad place to find out. The boys dragged Inias between them over to the Impala. Dean had the back door of the Chevy open, and was finagling Inias into the back seat, when the angel's eyes snapped open.
Inias stared at Dean who was bending down to rearrange his legs into the car. Inias raised a glowing palm reflexively.
"DEAN!"
Sam grabbed his brother by both shoulders and shoved Dean back. The glow of Inias' palm subsided as Sam blocked Dean from the angel's line of sight.
"What the…?"
"Dean, I think you should stay back." Sam said cautiously over his shoulder, carefully positioning himself so he blocked Dean out of Inias' view. "I think it's not just that he doesn't remember you. I don't think he sees you."
Inias saw only a demon.
Dean's expression darkened. She put a hand on his bicep and pulled him back.
"Here. I'll get him."
Dean moved out of the way, his lips pursed tight. She ducked between Sam and the car door, reaching to grab Inias' legs. She had no more than brushed against Inias' knee when the angel sat straight up as if someone had flicked a switch. He seized her by the shoulders, fingers digging into her arms as he pulled her forward insistently, towards the deadly heat of angelic grace.
"ZEE!" Dean exclaimed sharply, latching on to her elbow and tugging backwards.
Sam let go of Inias too and grabbed her by both shoulders to hold her in place. Inias yanked harder. The heat of grace washed against her cheeks, and singed her hair. Inevitably, the angel won the tug-of-war where she was the rope, jerking her forward abruptly until his lips were right by her ear.
"You."
Inias' fingers flexed, digging into her arms.
"You…you. Needed…..someone….to…"
Inias shuddered, as if each word required untold effort to retrieve from hidden recesses.
"Tell…. Castiel…. Metatron … It's….in the last …place on earth….Ramiel will look."
The double beep of a car being remotely unlocked was loud from somewhere behind her. Inias stood abruptly, ripping her out of Sam and Dean's restraining grasps. The angel shoved her behind him, his head turned towards the sound, his whole body at attention like a Roman centurion.
Voices, a whole family of them, came rounding the corner, petering out into a startled silence when they spotted the glowing angel standing by the Impala.
Out of the clear night sky there rolled a low rumble of thunder, followed by Sam's panicked "CRAP!"
A sharp crack of lightening punctuated the air, touching down right by the Impala.
"LOOK, MOMMY. IT'S AN ANGEL!"
Zee scrambled to her knees, and ducked out from behind Inias' burning halo, just in time to look across the parking lot and see a little girl with pigtails pointing at Inias, the parents gaping open-mouthed at the scruffy glowing guy in the blue suit. Which, angel or not, maybe the Chernobyl quality of the glowing and the lightening strikes ought to have prompted some kind of flight response? Instead they just stood there, eyes wide and stupefied, and that was enough time for the girl to decide to run forward, a pointing finger and her arm extended in front of her delighted face, because angels were friendlies, weren't they?
Inias raised a nuclear palm.
Shit.
She was on her feet, running flat out, but Sam was faster. He caught the little girl up in his arms even as the mother belatedly screamed, "Maise, no! Maise! Stop! Maise!" as if that would do any good.
Sam ran towards the family's automatically opened minivan with the girl in his arms. She veered around to the other side, grabbing the dad firmly by one shoulder and shoved him into the driver's seat as Sam bundled the girl and the mom into the vehicle and slammed the minivan's door closed.
"Go. GO!" She ordered. "Get out of here! NOW!"
In the minivan's side mirror she saw the arcing spread of Inias' skeletal wings, wide as shadows against the building behind them, loose feathers drifting down as bolts of lightening. Dean teleported in front of the luminescent angel, between Inias and the hapless family, squinting against the increasingly intense brightness, the First Blade held out in front of him.
Dean's voice was a low, surprisingly even rumble.
"Inias. STOP."
The man in the driver's seat took one look at the horror movie scene behind him and fired up the engine. The minivan's tires squealed as it took off.
Finally.
She turned around, hand slipping to the angel blade in her jacket as Sam did the same.
Inias' eyes flickered over Dean, over Sam, over her. Those burning eyes locked on her, like trying to hold on to a memory slipping. Uncertainty crossed the angel's face, and Inias stared at the brilliance of his outstretched palm like he had no idea what it was doing there.
The minivan screeched around the corner onto the street. Inias stared at the fading taillights, then at his glowing palm. Horror dawned across the angel's face. Inias curled the nuclear brightness of his hand in towards himself, as if he could shield it from everything around him. For a second the white brightness around the angel dimmed.
"Inias?" Sam said cautiously.
Inias gulped, his eyes flicking to Sam. Lightening danced down onto the pavement again. Inias' eyes went to the old jawbone in Dean's hand as his arm quivered, the glow starting up again, shimmering bright, bright enough to flatten everything within reach. The angel stared at the First Blade blindly, before finally looking up at the demon that held it.
Inias' eyes widened, as if he saw something he hadn't seen before.
Before she could move, before Sam could move, Inias took two steps forward and locked both of his glowing hands around Dean's hand, tight on the hilt of the First Blade. Dean flinched back violently, a low growl rising in his throat, trying to pull his smoking hand out of Inias' tight grip, and all it did was make Inias glow brighter. The angel stared hopefully at the demon, stared at him as comprehension dawned belatedly on Dean's face, and Dean tried to wrest the ancient blade out of Inias' hands, his lips desperately forming the words "NO, NO", words that were blown to smithereens as Inias stepped forward and impaled himself upon the First Blade with a blinding burst of grace.