THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW
PART 4: AND MERCY SHALL FOLLOW
A cry rang out from the Earth, riding a wave of grace that crashed violently against the edges of the universe.
Angels stationed planet-side were deafened by the nearly-forgotten sound of a fledgling's voice. One by one, they flew off back to heaven in a rush to report the impossible.
Heaven shook with the revelation. Halls fell silent with shock before bursting into a flurry of movement.
Castiel and Gabriel felt it as they plunged through the oncoming cloud of well-known energy. It sizzled along their wings like little electrified phantom fingers. They honed in on the voice and pushed harder.
And two other brothers, long separated from each others' sides, heard the lost child as they returned from spending time with their Father. Sharing a knowing look, both disappeared with a whisper of wings.
Jody drove the twins' Jeep like the professional she was trained to be—which was lucky for them because Dean was a maniac in the Impala and drove it like he stole it. Alicia sat in the front passenger's seat sharpening a blessed dagger. Max sat behind them in silent meditation.
They had been on the road for two hours, and every second had been tense with nerves and anticipation. Mary would occasionally call from the Impala with a question or suggestion about the rescue plan. Jody liked the female Winchester—it was hard not to like a woman so obviously full of love and devotion despite her recent experiences.
They kept the car radio off, so it was silent when it happened. Jody saw Alicia drop the knife and sharpening stone at the same time that Max gasped loudly. "What? What is it?" she asked the twins when no one spoke right away.
"I don't know," Max groaned. Jody saw him clutch his head in the rear-view mirror.
"There's been a massive discharge of energy nearby," Alicia answered, her hands shaking as held one over her mouth. Sweat beaded on her brow.
"He's screaming..." Max added, still trying to catch his breath.
"He who?" Jody demanded. "Sam?"
"I don't know," the twins answered together.
"Shit," Jody muttered and grabbed her phone from it's dashboard holder, "Mary, something's happening."
It was raining ice and fire.
Sam opened his eyes only to have water pour into them. He shut them quickly and tried to angle his head in a way that the water avoided blinding him. It took some adjusting, but he was finally able to see a little.
It looked like a bomb had gone off right where Sam was laying. Burn marks branched out across the floor, bars, ceiling, and walls, all leading to him. The sprinklers were pouring down water over smoking, ruined machines. Alarms sounded from another room. He saw Ms Watt lying in a heap under fallen equipment, moaning but not moving.
Sam swung his head around in search of the man. He found him a few feet away to his right against the cage bars. There were blisters covering Shepard's face and hands. His suit-clad leg was clearly broken and lay at an unnatural angle. Sam couldn't tell if he was breathing or not.
It wasn't until that moment that he realized the biggest new development—he could feel his grace. It was no longer raging under his skin, but settled against his bones as though exhausted from work with Gabriel. It barely reacted to his mental prodding, but the connection was there again no matter how dim. Sam gasped and almost choked on the spray from the sprinklers. Hope sprouted through the pain as he tested his bonds. The manacles held strong and his grace refused to even move down his arm.
"Cas, Gabe, I hope you can hear me," he mouthed the prayer below a whisper, "I'm in an old animal hospital a few hours by car from the bunker. I don't..." his throat constricted, "I think I knocked out the Brits who have me, but I'm chained up and I can't...I don't...Please check on Dean and Mom. I don't know if they..." He stopped and slowed his breathing, not wanting to lose the will to escape in the middle of his only opportunity.
A deep, resonating hum pushed its way past the chaos. It settled in Sam's ear and he turned his head toward the garage hall entrance in time to see a man enter the room. He was lean and aging, with skin the richest mahogany lined by wrinkles instead of grain. An ivory African dashiki embroidered in intricate gold patterns flowed from his broad shoulders down over matching pants that hung above bare feet.
Sam tugged at his bonds again, but there was no give. Still humming, the man walked forward, heedless of the broken glass. Limited in defense moves, Sam brought his knees up so he could at least try to kick. He forgot about the burn until he set his feet flat against the floor and his vision went white with scorching fire.
The stranger appeared at his side and rested a warm hand the Sam's right shoulder. Blinking, he forced his eyes to focus on the kind face hovering above him. "Peace, child. You are safe now," the voice was so low and resonant it sounded like he'd chanted the Enochian. He reached his free hand toward the manacles and they fell open with a crack.
Sam immediately rolled to his left, away from the unknown angel and Shepard's burnt face. His body screamed at him for moving and he was overcome with dizziness, but the need to get out was stronger. When he hit the cage, he grabbed hold of the bars and pulled himself to standing on his good foot.
"No! You stay. Stay!" Sam said as loud as he could. His throat felt like he'd swallowed razors.
The angel stayed where he was with his hands up to try and placate Sam. "You are injured. Will you not allow me to tend your wounds?" his head tilted in puzzlement.
"No! No allow. No touch! Stay." Sam dragged himself along the walls of the cage, body shaking with the exertion. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Olive branch laying on the floor. Keeping his eye on the angel, Sam slowly made his way over to the holy relic. It took some balancing, but he was able to slide down on his right knee to pick up the stick and stand again without putting weight on his burned sole. Holding the thin rod made him feel some measure of protection for the first time since he saw Gabriel banished. "Who you? Name!"
The angel stared at him in obvious conflict and disbelief as he took a step forward, "I have never had a fledgling refuse healing. Why choose to extend your suffering, little—"
"I not fucking know you!" Sam growled, not in the mood to hear pet names from strangers.
Now that his grace wasn't about to explode, he felt more in control of his body. He used the exam table as a guide to move backwards toward the hallway. His bare feet scraped along the sharp litter on the ground but he didn't care. He was standing and moving and somewhat free for the moment. The day was already improving.
The angel stopped with a pained look and lowered his arms with a slowly half-bow. "My apologies, Samuel."
"You know me?" Sam stopped him, needing answers over apologies. Castiel had started shielding him from other angels the day he found Sam in the bunker hallway with a knife. When Gabriel arrived, the archangel had taken over the duty and reinforced the seraphs wards with his own. According to their reception of angel-radio, no one was discussing him which apparently meant no one knew.
"Of course I know you, child. I knew you the moment I heard your cry. Our Father has not made a fledgling in many millenniums," he smiled warmly, the words rolling out of him like a lion's purr. Sam felt a familiar pleasant tugging in his chest that drew him toward the angel. It was the same thing he felt with his angels, but they had earned his trust. He watched the angel place a hand over his heart like he was going to swear a pledge. "We have met twice before, but only one time did I have a vessel. I am Raphael, the Healer of Heaven."
Wings rose behind Raphael—a delicate curtain of pure white feathers with veins of gold and emerald. Sam's eyes widened and he stumbled briefly before regaining his balance. "No," he whispered as his mind went straight to who was supposed to be brought back alongside this archangel, "No, no, no..." His eyes darted around the room, half expecting God's oldest angel to appear.
He needed to get out. Get away. Get to anyone still alive—anywhere that wasn't with British torturers or vengeful archangels. Movement caught his eye and he turned to see Ms Watt's arm shifting under the rubble. His body froze in a rush of other fears returning.
A hand clap broke through his rising panic, and he jumped to see Ms Watt disappear from spot a few feet away. She reappeared inside the kennel with Shepard's blistered body. Raphael stepped passed the bars and sealed the cage door with a gesture, never taking his eyes off Sam.
"You are safe, Samuel. I promise no harm will come to you. We will see you reunited with your family and caretakers, that is all."
Raphael's eyes and tone promised more than Sam could trust—especially concerning his family. The holy relic shook in his hand, and in less than a second only one word stood out to him. "We?"
Raphael gave a single, low nod, "Michael is currently intercepting Gabriel and Castiel. They—"
"Why?!" Sam demanded, coughing when he pushed too hard.
"Why what?" the archangel asked, confused but patient.
"Why stop them being here? If you help, why stop them?" Sam fought to find enough words and still be hyper-vigilant for the oldest brother.
"Ah, yes, I meant 'intercepting' in the sense that he is providing them assistance with their re-entry." Raphael smiled fondly at something Sam didn't understand.
"What mean?" he asked as he finally reached the door to the hallway.
"Gabriel and Castiel are currently blazing a trail through this solar system to return to you. Their speed is...greater than is advisable. Michael is simply going to ensure he slows down before crashing into the Earth, or he will risk destroying the planet." The archangel took small measured steps toward Sam. "I do not know what led you to become separated from you flock, but they will be here soon."
Gabriel saw him coming.
The vessel was hidden behind the true-form of the angel speeding toward them. He was beautiful—wings like flames trailing behind the glorious vision of God's eldest son. How long had it been since Gabriel had seen the glory his oldest brother's righteous fire? The sight filled Gabriel with giddiness. This was Michael restored. Michael—the commander of God's armies and the great prince who stood up for the children of the people, not the empty shell of an angel who had hardened and dwindled behind closed doors in Heaven!
And...he was going to collide with them somewhere between Mars and the Earth's moon, if Gabriel's calculations were correct.
Cassie, we've got incoming!
Castiel looked up, drained but giving Gabriel all he could to help. Who...?
It's Michael! Hang on tight, bro...
Gabriel felt when Michael's hand grabbed hold of Castiel, jerking them slightly off trajectory. Arms clamped around Gabriel's back, crushing the seraph between them. Feathers of fire gave powerful thrusts to shift their course back on track and then began to slow their momentum.
Hello, brothers, Michael said softly.
Mickey! Fancy meeting you here. Gabriel laughed in delight. Welcome back, big bro!
Gabriel, you are going too fast. If you do not slow down, it will cause a disaster.
Well, you know me...places to go, people to see...
A fledgling to save, Castiel added his voice to the mix and Gabriel was proud of his little brother's casual smoothness.
Yes, I know. Samuel Winchester is being attended to by Raphael. The Healer will deal with any who intend harm to our newest sibling. We must focus on not undoing all of Father's efforts—it will all be for naught if you demolish the world in your haste.
Gabriel! Castiel's voice held the same anxiety the youngest archangel was feeling. Sam had refused to even talk about the returning two archangels since he'd learned of it. Chances of a meeting between Sam and Raphael going well without anyone else there right after a potentially traumatizing experience? Very slim.
I know, Cassie. We're almost there.
Raphael insisted on slowly following Sam, maintaining the same distance but not allowing him to get further away. He kept his hands at his side, palms out, as though to look less threatening. It would have been more effective if Sam didn't know it took less than a thought for an archangel to scatter a person's atoms into the wind.
He focused on getting through the hallway instead of speaking. Unfortunately, he missed seeing a stray bit of debris and his bad foot caught on it. He fell back onto the ground with a painful yelp. Raphael rushed forward, arms reaching for him, but Sam yelled, "No! Please no!" Without a thought, he swung the Olive branch and stuck Raphael on the back of his hand.
Raphael reeled back, clutching the hand to his chest and staring at the rod in disgust. "What is that thing?" he demanded.
Sam gulped and didn't know if he should throw the branch far away or keep hold of it. If he angered the archangel, there would be nothing to save him. Especially not some stick that only worked if Raphael came within arm's reach of Sam and did nothing to defend himself.
Staring up at the outraged being, Sam couldn't find the Enochian words to answer. "It...it's an Olive branch. Noah's dove brought a piece back to the ark from the same tree or something. I don't..." his eyes filled until he couldn't see Raphael's face clearly anymore. He shook his head, trying to work up the energy needed to move.
Rolling onto his stomach, Sam pushed up on shaking arms and ignored the tears steadily falling. They just ran together with the sweat and sprinkler water at this point. If Raphael wanted to kill him, there was nothing stopping him. But until that happened, Sam was determined to make it outside.
"Oh Father, what did they do to you?" Raphael's voice sounded too emotional for an angel. There was too much compassion and sadness infused into his ringing words. Sam didn't want to be understood by this stranger.
"Nothing I haven't already experienced at your brothers' hands," he grunted the angry retort as he made it up onto his knees. Breathing deeply was getting harder to do, like there was an enormous weight on his back. He wondered if angels could get sick from extreme temperature exposure. Do normal angels even feel temperatures? Was it a fledgling thing, or was he just different?
"I am sorry, Samuel, for my part in your suffering," Raphael said softly. "Please, allow me to help. What would be most helpful to you right now?"
The tone had Sam looking over at him. At some point, the archangel had knelt down and was now sitting on his heels with his hands resting atop the cloth pants. He was the picture of patience and humility.
It made Sam pause—the urge to be stubborn fought with the desperation to escape. His body was crashing from the constant cold and pain and fear. Accepting help when he couldn't even stand was likely the only way he was getting out of here unless he wanted to lay in the floor and wait to be found. Or until Raphael looses his patience with him.
"I...I go outside," he said hesitantly, watching Raphael closely. The archangel bowed his head and waited for Sam to continue. "No fly. Only walk." When he received another nod, Sam slowly held out a hand.
Raphael unfolded himself and moved to engulf Sam's tiny hand with a calloused palm. He pulled Sam to his feet with a surprising amount of gentleness for such a powerful being. "Are you certain you do not wish healing? You have many injuries—some appear quite severe and painful."
Sam tensed and shook his head too fast, making himself dizzy again. "No heal!" It was bad enough having to be in physical contact with another person right after being tortured by strangers. He feared feeling the grace of an archangel would be his undoing.
"I promise I will not heal you without permission," Raphael tried to reassure him although he still looked perplexed, "Will you lean on me as you walk?"
Unexpected relief brought a brief smile to Sam's busted lips—having his consent stripped away so thoroughly made the concession feel like an big step toward reclaiming his autonomy. He nodded and they made their way slowly down the hallway and waiting area until they reached the garage. The SUV was parked in the same place, but now Sam could see what was past the garage doors.
Limping out into the driveway, he gazed at the fields and trees that stretched as far as the eye could see. The sun sat low on the horizon and Sam estimated it had been less than an hour since it first peaked over the tree line. Mist lingered in patches in the bitter morning air. But this cold was different—fresh and crisp and free.
They stood there until fatigue hit Sam and his knees started to buckle. Raphael caught him, slipping an arm behind Sam to encompass the small bony elbow. "Samuel..." he started, but paused when Sam shook his head. An escaped whimper spurred the archangel to continue, "Samuel, if you refuse healing then you must rest. You cannot continue to stand in your condition."
Sam stared back into the garage. He probably should have found a phone inside and at least tried to call Dean. And grabbed a blanket. And found his shoes. And maybe retrieved the holy oil to send the whole building up in a fiery blaze. Closing his eyes as his body began to hang heavy in Raphael's grip, Sam imagined being back home in the bunker surrounded by family and laughter and safety.
'Do you think we left the rest of them alive...Leave the man who bore the Mark of Cain and the thing wearing your dead mother's body?' Shepard's words taunted him. 'You will never again see the archangel or your brother's blue-eyed pet.'
Eyes snapped open and he was compelled to keep moving. His body, however, was done. There was nothing left in his energy reserves. Cramps in his stomach reminded him that he'd had no food or water since dinner two nights prior. Shifting his right foot forward, he failed to lift it high enough and the sole scraped across the driveway. Pain that had dulled during the lull ratcheted back to full strength, shooting from his foot to ricochet throughout his body. Sam swallowed back nausea and renewed tears.
"Enough, child." Raphael rumbled and scooped Sam into his arms. The Olive branch fell to the ground, rolling out into the weed-filled yard.
Cradled against the broad chest, Sam flew straight into furious panic. He pushed against the immovable arms, clawing at unbreakable skin and spitting in helpless rage. Raphael lied! Sam knew better than to trust an archangel. Delivered from one enemy and into the hands of another more powerful. "No! No! NO!" he cried out before sinking his teeth into Raphael's upper arm.
Raphael seemed unphased by the struggles. "You are safe. We will find a place to sit comfortably and wait for the others to arrive. Shh, the fight is over. Rest now, you fierce fledgling." He patiently hummed a nameless song as he carried Sam over to a bench. It was situated out a ways from the front of the building, in the yard surrounded by dead flowers. Raphael carefully sat him down on the stone seat.
Sam scrambled to the far end of the bench and huddled there. The archangel stepped back and stared up at the sky, giving him space to settle. The morning outside was calm and still with a steady stream of low-sung notes from the archangel that sank deep into Sam's chest. His grace, raw and restless, warmed without his permission in the hummed vibrations. His breathing gradually eased and it chased away the icy-edge in the air.
The growl of an engine grew in the distance, so familiar it resonated in Sam's bones and drowned out the soft humming. His whole body thrummed with a surge of energy and anxiety. Reality was still too hazy to completely trust his senses, but he turned red-rimmed eyes toward the sound of home.
'No one would mourn your passing.'
The most beautiful sight emerged on the road out of the woods. The Impala, roaring at maximum speed, turned sharply into the long driveway and spun dramatically before continuing her flight straight toward them. Close on her bumper was a black Jeep he didn't recognize.
Raphael laugh quietly, "I believe that is the human equivalent to how Gabriel and Castiel are approaching our location as well." Then, Sam watched as the smile fell from the weathered face leaving only a serene seriousness.
A deafening boom split the air and shook the ground. Sam grasped the edge of the bench to keep from falling as everything lurched and he felt a hand hold him firmly by the shoulder. "Was that...was that Cas and Gabriel?" he asked.
"No," Raphael answered simply. A flash of silver fell from the tunic sleeve into long steady fingers. The archangel's weapon was more staff than sword with an extended grip topped by a silver globe. The end pointing toward the ground was sharp and gleaming as it swung to plant itself in the ground beside them.
A figure emerged from the far side of the clinic building and at first Sam feared it was one of the British agents somehow free and conscious. But it quickly became clear that this man was different. He wore expensive black leather and eye-liner and had long greasy hair that hung past his shoulders.
Sam recognized him as he drew closer and gaped in bewilderment. There was no way... "Vince Vicente?" he asked, baffled by the bizarre entrance of the classic rock icon. This isn't real. I'm dreaming, or they drugged me, his thoughts tried to make sense of it. He dug his thumb into the meat of his left palm but nothing changed.
'Vince' stared at him and stalked closer. His boots fell like boulders against the ground and Sam knew this was not the musician he'd secretly admired a lifetime ago. One corner of the rock god's mouth curled upwards, and Sam could see. He heard tires skid to a stop behind him but he couldn't turn to look. Couldn't take his eyes off the waking nightmare.
"Shit! Shit! Shit!" Dean cursed loudly as they tore up the longest driveway in existence. "What do you see?"
Mary leaned against the dashboard, a pair of binoculars almost touching the glass windshield. "There's an older black man standing next to Sammy. I don't see anyone else." Her phone rang and Dean snatched it from the seat.
Switching the audio to speaker, he barked, "What!?"
"Don't get out!" Jody's voice screamed through the phone.
"What?! Are you..." he repeated, this time in outrage.
She cut him off, "The man isn't human! And the twins are saying someone else..."
"Dean! There's another man!" Mary shouted over Jody.
They reached the end of the drive and skidded to a stop near a garage. The Jeep stopped right behind them. Mary was already pushing the binoculars into his hand when he reached for them. Looking out the window, he looked at Sammy first.
He couldn't get a clear view of his brother, but it was definitely Sam. The kid sat at the far end of the bench with his back to them. The person standing beside the tiny hunched figure was also turned away and looked braced for battle. Dean followed the direction they were staring to see a third man.
Frowning, he pulled back from the window and wiped at his eyes. Looking again, he fiddled with the dials to refocus the lenses, trying to make the picture clearer. It didn't change—the man remained exactly the same.
"Dean?" Jody's voice sounded confused.
"Yeah, Jody?" Dean felt like he'd fallen back into bizarro Earth.
"Is that..." she couldn't finish and he didn't blame her.
"Yeah, Jody," he confirmed, "It's Vince Vicente."
It was official—nothing made sense anymore.
"Of course it's you!" Lucifer flung his arms out and laughed at the sky. "Seven and a half billion humans on this decaying planet, and it is always you. Why is that?"
"Lucifer," Raphael's voice held authority tinged with old love as he addressed his fallen brother, "why have you come here?"
"What, and miss that 'new feather' smell?" he snarked, then shrugged, "Call it curiosity. Every angel in creation heard him. I gotta ask, roomie, I never heard you scream like that. What did they do that I didn't, hmm?"
"Enough!" Raphael bellowed. There was an almighty crack like a tree snapping and white feathers curtained Sam's body like the streaming leaves of a weeping willow. The smell of spicy earth and honeysuckle washed over him. Sam unconsciously tucked his feet under the bench and leaned into Raphael's hand. "Leave here, brother."
"And why would I do that, brother?" Lucifer sneered.
A high-pitched tone pierced the morning. It was followed by a ball of fire in the sky that grew brighter and brighter, streaking straight toward them. Lucifer's head shot up to stare in horrified understanding at the rapidly approaching light, but Raphael didn't flinch. "Because our brothers are on their way. Gabriel is eager to return to this child—you remember how protective he is over fledglings. It is in your best interest to leave. We can settle our differences another time. Please!"
No one had time to reply. Fire trailed past them faster than sound and crashed into the field on the far side of the road. Sam could make out the angels' true-forms carve a scar through the earth as dirt billowed upward in a cloud.
Gabriel laid in the crater and wondered if this is what humans felt when they said they'd had the breath knocked out of them. Castiel was sprawled across his chest and groaning from the force of their landing. They heard another moan from the other side of the hole they'd created. Thank God for big brothers who cushioned their fall.
Lifting his head, Gabriel saw Michael stand and shake the dirt from his vessel, healing any damage taken in re-entry. Pushing Castiel up, Gabriel did the same for them. Climbing to their feet, he reached with his grace toward the other three grace-beings gathered by a building a short distance away. Cold fear and anger twisted his grace when Gabriel realized who was with Sam and Raphael. Castiel grabbed his sleeve in a death-grip, trepidation clear on his face.
Lucifer! They hissed to Michael and flew into the fray without waiting on their oldest brother.
Sam watched Lucifer brace himself just as a gale-force wind almost blew him off his stylish boots. Raphael's grip and wing cover prevented Sam from being thrown to the state line as two angels slammed onto the ground in matching crouches, angel blades drawn and grace igniting their vessels from within. He pinched his palm harder—just to be safe.
Gabriel was already moving to plant himself between Lucifer and Sam, wings fully extended. "Crawl back to your cesspool, and do not ever think to place yourself in Samuel Winchester's presence again without permission. He is my charge, under my protection, and I will not allow him to suffer seeing your face."
The sound of Gabriel's voice made Sam want to weep with relief. Peering past the white feathers, his heart raced as he saw Castiel slowly moving toward the bench. The seraph was keeping his eyes on the standoff, but when he reached them, he turned to Raphael and gave a tense nod. Sam felt the hand on his shoulder pat him gently, then the Healer stepped around the bench to join Gabriel.
Sam sat motionless when Castiel knelt in front of him and silently traced all the cuts and bruises that littered his skin before those blue eyes lifted to meet his. The angel blade disappeared inside the trench coat. Hesitantly, the seraph brought his hands up in offering. Sam stared at the raised palms, his muddied mind unable to discern what was being asked of him.
"Samuel, may I touch you?" Castiel's gruff tone felt soft as silk against Sam's raw nerves.
Heart pounding in his throat, Sam couldn't bring himself to answer. More than anything, he wanted to burrow into the familiar folds of that trench coat and stay until the world faded away. Did Castiel even know how much those words meant to him? But to say 'yes' after hours of fighting through agony inflicted by hands felt like a defeat. Fear that the touch might be what breaks the illusion of rescue and sends him back to being chained to a floor and beaten was just another motivating factor against giving in.
Raging voices grew louder. Sam flinched and hunched lower on the bench. Black wings manifested, tall and solid, to envelop them and close out the world. A rainbow of colors splintered in the sun's light and danced over the ebony feathers. The air warmed with the scent summer rain. Castiel smiled and the tugging in his chest that said safety-home-love finally won out. With a nod, Sam placed one of his fists in the center of Castiel's hand.
Fingers curled around his and a sob shook Sam's shoulders. Castiel shifted forward and brought his other hand to lightly rest on the back of Sam's head, encouraging him to lean against the seraph's shoulder. That was all the push Sam needed. His hands gripped the beige collar and he buried his face in the fabric. Tears soaked through the cloth layers as he felt himself lifted and settled against Castiel's chest.
The hand softly combing through his hair moved down his neck without touching the collar and brushed against his shoulder blades. Sam let out a strangled cry and twisted away from the hand. Instincts told him to fight anything that caused pain, but they warred against the promise of safety associated with this angel. The hand immediately returned to his hair and resumed carding through the tangled curls.
"Shh, I am so sorry. I did not realize...shh, I will not touch them again," Castiel said in a rush as he moved them somewhere further from the arguing archangels. Sam didn't know what he was talking about, but settled back firmly when the hurt faded.
A rush of wings announced the arrival of yet another newcomer. Sam pressed harder against Castiel when he felt the angel freeze and turn back around. The others were silent.
"Enough of this. You are arguing about nothing. Lucifer, you are free to leave. There will be no fight between us—any of us. Please go for now, and I shall meet you at a later time and we can...talk." There were two voices speaking simultaneously, an oddity Sam had grown used to hearing when listening to angels through his own grace. But this was different. Sam recognized both voices, although he could only name one—Michael.
"Oh please, heard any good show tunes lately?" Lucifer mocked, bitter and angry, "What could we possibly talk about that was not already discussed during our forced family bonding time down under?"
"What could you possibly hope to accomplish here going against all three of your brothers?" Raphael's words flowed smoothly over the tension.
"Listen to the host, Lucifer. All of Heaven heard and felt this boy. They are massing teams right now to investigate. Will you face us all? And for what?" Michael radiated calm confidence.
"Fine!" Lucifer snapped and Sam flinched at the tone, "Have fun playing happy family. Tell Dad I said 'hi' if you ever see him again." A deafening crack sounded the devil's exit.
"Ugh, still a bag of dicks," Gabriel huffed in English, "Castiel, how is he? Let me see him." Sam heard hurried footsteps approach them.
"Not well, although I do not think there is anything life threatening. But look at his back," Castiel answered.
There was a sharp intake of breath and Sam braced for a touch that never came, "He's too young! Oh, Sammy...let me see you, kiddo. Raphael, I need information."
"There is a severe burn on the sole of his right foot Holy oil, if I am not mistaken." Raphael said from a distance, "I would have healed him, however..."
Sam felt them sit and his body was shifted so he was sideways in Castiel's lap.
Gabriel snorted, "I'm surprised he let you near him. Come on, kiddo, show me those peepers."
Sam had to blink away salty crust from his eyelashes before he could focus on Gabriel's face hovering worriedly in front of him. Fingertips trailed over his hands where his palm now bled under the assault of his own thumbnail. "There you are," Gabriel's voice cracked, "Hey."
"Hey," Sam tried to say but it came out more air than sound.
Gabriel frowned in concentration, eyes flashing gold, "What is this thing?" He reached up to Sam's throat and touched the collar.
"Gabriel, wait!" Raphael tried to warn, but it was too late.
It snapped open and fell to the ground. Sam felt the connection to his grace surge to fully open. His hands flailed, grasping at Castiel's arm wrapped around his waist and a fistful of Gabriel's feathers. Relief and pain blended into one as he felt every injury inflicted on the trapped grace. The weight on his back moved and the pain flowed outward, away from his body, yet he remained bound to it.
Electricity immediately arched from his limbs and he saw the golden eyes grow round. Castiel grunted but didn't let go. Gabriel's hand pressed flat against Sam's chest and the storm drained away, "There we go. It is not bad this time. I suspect you already released most of it earlier. Almost there...I am so sorry it took so long." After a few minutes, the hand lifted to brush against Sam's neck again. This time, cool relief soothed his torn throat and he sighed with heavy eyes.
"There are a bunch of humans sitting in vehicles over there. Does anyone know why?" Michael asked. Sam turned his face into Castiel's chest. He didn't want to see the only being he feared second to Lucifer.
"That was me," Raphael admitted, "I did not wish the humans to stumble into a battle unawares. I thought it best they stayed where they were safer."
Castiel turned them to see the two cars' worth of people trying to get doors and windows open. "Dean does not look happy," he said, seeing the expression of pure wrath etched into the Righteous Man's face.
"Let them out, Raphael," Gabriel said with glance at Michael, "This is not going to be good."
Despite Jody's warning to stay in the car, Mary knew nothing would stop her from rushing right out there. Never mind she had nothing to wield that rated above a butter knife against anything more powerful than a seraph. Never mind that she hadn't been on a hunt for years and her youngest son's life could hang in the balance. She didn't need superpowers or a badge or the experience of several apocalypses under her belt to protect him.
She listened to Dean and Jody talk and was trying to figure out who 'Vince Vicente' could be when the field behind them exploded. Her hand flew to the door handle and she almost knocked herself out against the window when the door refused to budge. She toggled the lock and tried again to no avail. "Dean! Dean!"
"What?" he said, twisted around in his seat to see the dust cloud.
"The door won't open!"
He spun back to see her still trying to work the handle. He did the same to his door with the same results. "Damn it!" he shouted and elbowed the window. It bounced off and Dean let out a pained gasp. "Motherfu—"
"Sitting right here, Dean," she interrupted with a frown. "Why didn't you try that with the butt of your gun?"
"Elbow seemed faster," he wheezed.
A gust of wind rocked the car, blinding them with a kick-up of dust and dry brown grass.
"Dean! What is that? Can you see anything?" Jody's voice streamed through the phone that had fallen in the floor.
Dean reached down and grabbed it, "No idea, Jody. Hold on...it's starting to clear."
Mary saw the clear image of a trench coat moving toward her baby. "Oh, thank God!" she whispered, "It's Castiel."
"Then let's hope Gabriel ain't far behind." Dean said, still trying to open his door. "Jody, can you guys get out?"
There was a pause. "Nope," she answered.
"This is grace-magic. And way too powerful for us to break," Max's voice sounded further from the phone.
"Even if we had all the tools and time to prepare," Alicia added, louder.
Mary watched as Castiel picked Sam up and jealousy soured her stomach for a second. Until he arrived. She heard a muffled, choked yell and realized it came from her.
Dean didn't turn around. His whole body vibrated with anticipation, laser-focused on the newest arrival to the scene. But instead of shocked, he seemed angry. Angrier than she knew him capable of being.
"Dean? What's going on?" Mary asked in a broken voice, barely able to look away from the man in the field.
He didn't answer her right away. Instead, he pulled out an angel blade and raised the phone to his mouth. "Folks, the plan is out."
"What?!" Jody yelled, "What do you mean the plan is out? We don't have another plan, Dean!"
"You see those four men out there with Cas and Sam? I'm pretty sure I know who they are, and we have nothing to fight any of them. Not unless Chuck shows up. We have to hope Gabriel can handle this, and pray Cas can keep Sam safe and together," Dean said.
"Who are they?" Mary demanded.
"The archangels," he answered quietly.
Silence fell over both cars. They watched 'Vince' gesture dramatically before leaving with a deafening boom. The tension in the yard seemed to break as Gabriel rushed to Sam and started inspecting the boy. Mary covered her mouth when she saw the grace-lightning spark off the tiny body and only started breathing again when Gabriel finished draining the energy.
Then, the locks on the doors popped up.
Sam fought against the fatigue slowly gaining ground on his body. But he couldn't sleep yet—not when Dean and his mother were sprinting toward him. There were others trailing behind them, but Sam only had eyes for his family. Alive, with a cavalry.
'No one would mourn your passing.' The words whispered one more time before being thoroughly dismissed as Dean slid hard against the bench on his knees like a runner stealing third base.
"Sammy!" he was instantly pushing into Sam's space. Nose to nose with forest green eyes, his hands moving along Sam's arms and ribs, feeling for injuries. Dean pulled back a few inches so he could see the rest of him, pulling the shirt up and wincing at the bruises. "Damn kid. Gabe, why haven't you healed him yet?
"I didn't want to push him..." Gabriel started, but Dean sent him a death glare that made Sam smile.
"Dean," Sam rasped and raised a hand to trace his brother's freckles, counting each one in reassurance that this was real. He knew this face better than anyone. And while the angels were part of the family, Dean was home.
A throat cleared from somewhere behind Sam. "Brothers, I must leave. A team of very confused angels are about to mutiny. I have kept them from descending upon us for now, but I think it best I return to Heaven. There is much to explain and even more to do. Raphael will accompany you back to your nest, Gabriel. To ensure everyone's safety and provide assistance with healing if needed."
Sam heard Mary gasp and looked up to see her face, pale and devastated. Her brow furrowed, caught between anger and confusion, as she stepped around them. Gabriel and Castiel and Dean all tensed, and Sam wasn't sure he wanted to know what was happening.
"Why do you look so young?" she asked. Sam had never heard his mother sound so lost, and he turned to see the cause.
He should have known. Should have realized the possibility sooner.
Michael smiled, serene and compassionate—an expression that looked all wrong on John Winchester's face. "Hello, Mary."
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Two posts in under 24hrs!
Thank you to everyone who has stuck through this amazing journey thus far!
Here's my Solstice gift to you all. And if we're really lucky, I may try to get the final chapter of this story up by Christmas...
I am sorry for anyone who had difficulties with the previous two chapters. I know it was a drastic turn from the beginning of the story, and it can be difficult to properly label things without the use of tags. I will go back and try to make sure they are visible and clearly defined.
Let the comforts commence!