++++++ Suki and I apologise sincerly, we've both been swamped with work and personal issues (my grandmother died two weeks ago).
That and I've been super obsessed with Polyvore lately.
I hope you enjoy the chapter.
I do not own ++++++
Chapter Five
"There are no heroes...in life, the monsters win."
George R. R. Martin
"Hey Artemis, where you off to?" Sam questioned as Art pulled her jacket on. The three hunters were back in the Winchester's hotel room trying to deconstruct the hex bag Dean had found at the Wallace house. An all night study session later and Art was in desperate need to stretch her legs and get the cramp out.
"Leg cramps," Art answered. "Unfortunately my body likes to protest when faced with long periods of research. Gonna go for a walk around the parking lot to stretch my legs."
"Need a hand?" Dean asked. He grunted when Sam elbowed him. "What?!"
Sam glared at him. "Why does everything with you gotta be about sex?"
Monic, who sat on Sam's bed reading the journal shook her head with a soft smile. She was only half way through but it gave her a good idea of how these boys operated. She'd love to know why Art started hunting but was too chicken to make conversation with her.
Art glanced over at the older girl on the bed and sighed. "I'm gonna head on down to the store at the corner, want anything?"
Monica's eyes lit up. "Yes, please. Can you get me some suckers?"
"Sucker huh?" Dean asked.
Monica glared at him but Dean ignored her.
"Licorice!" Sam shouted out.
"Eww Sammy."
Art shook her head and she walked out of the hotel room. The fresh air hit her like a brick wall but man it felt good. She pulled her jacket up around her and wrapped the electric blue scarf around her neck. Bloody hell it was cold. She stepped off the footpath and stuck her hands in her pocket and made her way down the street.
The hunter stopped underneath a streetlight just as the lights started flickering on and off. "Well shit," she frowned.
"Wow what is that?" a woman asked. She was waiting for a bus at the bus bench. "Shooty electronics."
Or a demon, Art thought. She reached into her jacket for the demon killing knife and gripped it whilst waiting for the demonic bastard to make it's presence. The lights still flickered a little but nothing happened.
"Yeah...maybe."
"So how are you Artemis?"
Art jumped back when the woman said her name. "What the fuck?"
The lights flickered again and two gigantic wings spread out behind the woman's back. "Such language, relax, I won't hurt you. My name is Amitiel."
Art drew the angel blade out from her jacket sleeve-it had gotten to the point that there was no way that she would go anywhere without the weapons in her possession. "State your intention before I carve out your eyes."
She clicked her tongue at her. "Word has gotten around that you're wondering who I am and what I want with you."
Art nodded reluctantly. "Yeah, I'd love to know about that. Sick to death of your little birds chasing after me. What do you want with me?"
The angel cocked her blonde head to the side with a sickening smile. "This vessel is weak...poor woman...she prayed for a higher purpose in her last days so I obliged."
The hunter narrowed her eyes. "You're possessing that poor woman?"
She nodded. "She's a devoted woman. She prayed for this. I took her body to ease her suffering. Cancer is such an ugly way to die." Amitiel stepped forward and looked Art up and down. "You're not what I thought you would be. The bloodline, I mean."
Art raised an eyebrow. "What bloodline?" she asked.
"The bloodline specific to my vessel."
"So I'm supposed to be some angel condom?"
"Very crass but yes," Amitiel replied. "It's an honour to be a vessel of an arc. It's been a long time since I've needed a vessel but now with everything that's happening-if Lucifer breaks free of the cage-I need a vessel."
Art snorted. "Yeah, not gonna happen sunshine. I'll never say yes because I know that unlike a demon, angels need permission to possess their vessel." She stuck the angel blade back in her boot. "You can't force me to say yes and I know I'll never say yes."
Amitiel smiled sweetly at her. "That is true, very true. I've been watching your sisters as well-they will do just as well for a vessel but you are the strongest out of them. I can take them but they'll burn out and die faster than you will."
She raised an eyebrow. "So let me get this straight-my reward for being your host is that I'm going to burn out and die?" Art laughed and shook her head. "Not gonna happen sister. Now get lost before I stab you in the heart."
Amitiel reached out and grabbed Art's wrist. "You and I are bound by fate. You're my vessel, Artemis. You always will be. You're my destined to be my vessel. Archangels don't find them very often but here you are. So easy to find."
"Yeah...right." Art ran a hand through her hair and cleared her throat. "Look-I don't need this angel bullshit-we're in the middle of a case so let me the fuck go."
Suddenly Art's wrist started to burn and she was unable to yank it away from the angel. Amitiel let her arm go and Art found herself staring at a tattoo about the size of a coffee mug bottom on her inner wrist-it was a series of blue and black lines that formed a letter in no language Art knew. "Do you just bitch brand me?" Art winced.
Amitiel laughed. "It is a brand-yes. I branded you on your body and soul to warn others that you are my property. It's got a little bit of my grace in it as an internal defense. Get's other threats away from you."
Art would have punched her but the woman vanished. She rubbed her wrist and made her way back to the hotel room where everyone was still working away. She closed the door behind her and slid up against it breathing heavily.
"Art you okay?" Dean asked her, jumping to his feet.
Art nodded. "Yeah...yeah I'm fine thanks. Just had a run in with Amitiel."
"Amitiel?" the three in the room chorused.
"Who's Amitiel?" Dean asked. "You asked Cas that."
"Well she's an angel apparently," Art replied. She rubbed her wrist.
"What's that?" Monica frowned. She slid off Sam's bed and came over to the hunter and took her hand. The moment her finger traced over a blue line, the marking flared up and threw Monica across the room.
"Jesus!" Art and Sam shouted.
Art ran across the room to help Monica to her feet. "Bloody hell. Are you okay, Monica?"
"What in the name of the Lord was that?" the girl gasped. She looked at Art and the tattoo. "I don't know how but I can tell that that's an angel that did that. I can feel something…"
"Grace," Art told her, "the angel possess an energy called Grace that connects them to the heavenly host."
"What is that?" Monica asked.
"Amitiel bitch branded me," Art snapped. She sat Monica down on the bed went for her cell phone. She pressed the number one on the dial pad and dialled Jenny.
"Hey what's up my love?" Jenny smiled on the other end.
"Need everything you can find on the angel Amitiel."
Silence. "Um-okay. What am I missing?"
"Just do it." Art hung up and turned to almost run into Dean. "Um-personal space?"
"Who was that?"
"Jenny."
"Whose Jenny?"
"Everyone has their own Bobby," Art replied. She sat back down at the table and pulled the hex bag over to her, "so walk me through what we have so far."
Sam sighed and they all sat back down. "Goldthread-a herb that's been extinct for two hundred years, a silver Celtic coin-like six hundred years old-and a charred metacarpal bone of a newborn baby."
Dean went to open his mouth but Art's cell phone rang. She grabbed her FBI cell and cleared her throat. "SSA Dale?"
They didn't catch what was on the other end but immediately Art hung up. "New body turned up-teenager died in an apple bobbing tub."
"We'll take it," Sam told her. "You stay here with Monica."
"Fine," Art replied. She got to her feet and went to grab another book off the table before slumping down on Dean's bed to flick through it.
-XXX-
December 4th 1983
Last night I was sitting in Sam and Dean's room, in the dark, and I heard these noises.
Mike said it was the wind, and okay, maybe it was, but it sounded almost like whispering, like someone was whispering a name, under their breath, again and again...like something is out there in the dark, watching us.
I stayed up all night just watching them, protecting them From what, I don't know. Am I protecting them? Am I hurting them? I haven't let them out of my sight since the fire.
Dean still hardly talks. I try to make small talk, or ask him if he wants to throw the baseball around. Anything to make him feel like a normal kid again. He never budges from my side-or from his brother.
Every morning when I wake up, Dean is inside the crib, arms wrapped around baby Sam. Like he's trying to protect him from whatever is out there in the night.
Thud!
Monica practically jumped off the bed when a book was thrown at her, missing her head by inches. She put the journal down and glared at Art who was glaring straight back at her. "What was that for!"
"I said Sam and Dean will be back soon!" Art scowled. "They found another hex bag at the crime scene. I think I found what's going on but we're gonna wait til they get back. I've just had a shower, you should probably have one as well, you smell really bad."
Monica went to object but she could smell herself, at first she thought it was Art but her wet hair and the smell of caramel and pomegranate gave it away that it was her. "Oh."
The next thing Art tossed at her was some clothes. "Off you pop."
"This isn't my normal style," she objected. She looked through the pile of dark colours and shook her head wondering where in blazes Art had gotten these from when they were clearly her size and not the small hunters.
"If you're gonna be one of us, act the part." Art turned around and sat at the table where she continued taking notes with her headphones in her ears.
Monica got up and went to have herself a shower hoping the hot water would soothe her aching muscles. Right now she'd sell her soul for a hot, steaming bath...well her hot bath anyway.
Art had almost written four pages of notes by the time the boys got back from the crime scene. The first thing Dean did was toss the hex bag over at Art so she could open it up.
"I'm telling you, Sam, both these vics are squeaky clean. There is no reason for a wicked bitch payback."
Art raised an eyebrow as the two boys came into the hotel room. "Well maybe it's not about that, Sam?"
Dean looked sideways at his brother. "What? You two datin' behind my back?"
Sam and Dean rolled their eyes. "Art and I were talking on the way back and we think we've found out what's going on. This witch isn't working a grudge, they're working a spell."
Art pointed to the table where a book lay open with a piece of torn paper on the top. "So this particular spell requires three blood sacrifices over three days-the last before midnight on the final day of the final harvest. Celtic Calendar, the final day of the final harvest is October 31st."
"Halloween?"
Sam nodded exactly. He looked around for a second looking for Monica until he heard the shower running. "Ah-yeah."
"So what exactly are the blood sacrifices for?" Dean asked.
"The witch is summoning a demon and not just any demon-Samhain."
Dean raised an eyebrow. "Am I supposed to be impressed?"
Art snorted. "Samhain is the origin of Halloween. The Celts believe that October 31st was the one night of the year when the veil was the thinnest between the living and the dead, and it was Samhain's night. Masks were put on to hide from him, sweets left of the doorstops to appease him, faces carved into pumpkins to worship him. He was apparently exorcised centuries ago."
It took a moment but Dean nodded as he slowly got it. "So even though Samhain took a trip downstairs, the tradition stuck."
Sam nodded. "Exactly. Only now instead of demons and blood orgies Halloween is all about kids, candy and costumes."
"Hey!" Art pouted. "Don't knock a demon orgy til you've had one Sammy!"
Dean's eyes practically popped out of his head. "What did you just say?"
Art winked at him.
"Guys!" Sam snipped. "This ritual can only be performed every six hundred years and it's heavyweight witchcraft. The six hundred year mark rolls around tomorrow night."
"Of course it does," Art muttered.
Dean looked at the book and frowned. "Sure is a lot of death and destruction for one demon."
"That's because he likes company. Once he's raised, Samhain can do some raising of his own."
"Like what exactly?"
"Lots of dark, evil crap," Art answered. "They follow this guy around like the Pied Piper. Ghosts. Zombies-"
"Leprechauns."
"Not even funny, Dean," Art scowled.
"I'm serious," he objected. "Those little dude's are scary. Small hands."
"Let's see if you're still in a joking mood when we're fighting against every awful thing we've ever hunted, ever seen, right here...all in one place."
"It's gonna be a slaughterhouse."
"So what do we do?" Art asked. "The third sacrifice could be anyone."
Sam and Dean shrugged.
The bathroom door opened and Monica came in fresh from the crappy hotel room shower. She looked at the three hunter sitting there with grim looks on their faces. "What happened?"
Art pinched her nose. "Dean, Sam, sit on Mrs Wallace. Monica and I will look more into this Samhein thing at the library."
"So I'm coming with you?" Monica asked.
"Come on, junior agent," Art replied.
"Junior? I'm taller than you."
Art snorted. "It's not the size, honey, it's how you use it." She pulled her jacket on and grabbed her gun and fake ID on the way out.
"So do I get a gun and an ID?" Monica inquired.
"Good god no," Art laughed as she walked outside. "You'd probably end up shooting me."
"Well what if I need to defend myself?"
"Honey, a bullet ain't gonna stop a witch," she answered. "Just piss it off."
"This world is so confusing," Monica confessed.
"Preaching to the choir."
-XXX-
Art and Monica came back to the hotel a few hours later just as Sam and Dean got back. "Did you find anything?" she asked him.
"Yeah," Sam replied. He told them that when they were sitting on Mrs Wallace, a friend of the dead cheerleader showed up to babysit after denying that she even knew the first victim. After a meeting with one of her teachers, Sam and Dean had come to the conclusion that she was the witch.
"What exactly are you going to do?" Monica asked, she was holding a bag of Thai food in her hands after a pit stop at the local Thai restaurant for dinner.
"What do you think?" Dean asked as they headed back to the room. "We're gonna kill her."
"That so wrong," she frowned.
"It's us or them," Art replied.
Sam unlocked the door and let Monica in first. When she turned the lights on, she dropped the food and screamed.
The three hunters immediately drew their handguns and rushed into the room.
Sam and Dean lowered their guns immediately when they saw Castiel was standing in the middle of the room with a second figure standing by the window. The moment that Art saw them, she dropped the angel blade from out of her jacket sleeve and kept her gun trained on him.
"I'm starting to get real fucking sick of you little pricks coming in uninvited," Art hissed.
Dean put his hand on Art's shoulder to calm her down before turning back to Castiel and the guy in the suit. "Who's your friend?"
"Who he is, isn't important," Castiel replied, "have you stopped the raising of Samhain?"
"What's it to you?" Dean asked.
"Have you located the witch?"
"Yes we've located the witch," Dean answered.
"Is the witch dead?"
"We're working on it," Art answered, finally lowering her weapons. "We know who it is."
"Apparently she knows who you are as well," Castiel answered. He crossed the room to the bedside table where two hex bags sat. "This was inside the wall of your room. If we hadn't found it, surely one of all of you would be dead. Do you know where the witch is now?"
Sam and Dean exchanged a worried look before turning back to the angels. "We're working on it."
"That's unfortunate," Castiel frowned.
"Hey what do you care anyway?" Art snipped.
"The raising of Samhain is one of the 66 seals."
"So this is about your buddy Lucifer?"
"Lucifer is no friend of ours," the second angel hissed.
"It's an expression," Dean growled.
"Lucifer cannot rise. The breaking of the seal must be prevented at all costs."
"Okay, great, well now that you're here, why don't you tell us where the witch is, we'll gank her and everybody goes home."
"We are not omniscient. This witch is very powerful, she's cloaked even our methods."
Sam crossed his arms. "Okay...well we already know who she is, so if we work together-"
"Enough of this!"
"Okay so who are you and why should I care?"
The angel turned around and glared at Dean. "This is Uriel. He's what you might call...a specialist."
"What kind of specialist?" Dean asked.
"You all need to leave this town immediately," Castiel warned them.
"Why?" Monica managed to ask, her voice coming out in almost a squeak.
"Because we're about to destroy it."
"Wait-what?" Art asked. "So your plan is smite the whole friggin' town?"
"We're out of time. This witch has to die, the seal must be saved."
"There are a thousand people here!" Sam objected.
"One thousand, two hundred and fourteen...well fifteen, we'll be taking care of the other problem whilst we're at it." Uriel's gaze fell upon Monica when he spoke.
Art stepped in front of the girl but didn't say anything.
"So you're willing to kill them all?" Sam asked.
"This isn't the first time I've...purified a city."
Castiel sighed. "Look, I understand this is regrettable."
"Regrettable?"
"We have to hold the line. Too many seals have broken already."
"So you screw the pooch on some seals and this town has to pay the price?"
"It's the lives of one thousand against the lives of six billion. There's a bigger picture here."
"Right...cause you're a bigger picture kind of guy," Dean scowled.
"Lucifer cannot rise!" Castiel argued. "He does and Hell raises with him. Is that something that you're willing to risk?"
"We'll stop this witch before she summons anyone," Sam spoke up. "Your seal won't be broken and no one has to die."
"We're wasting time with these mud monkeys," Uriel hissed.
"Dean we have our orders," Castiel told him.
"No, you can't do this, you're angels," Sam objected. "I mean aren't you supposed to-you're supposed to show mercy."
"Says who?"
"We have no choice," Castiel repeated.
Dean scoffed. "Of course you have a choice. I mean, come on, what? You've never questioned a crap order, huh? What are you both, just a couple of hammers?"
"Look, even if you don't understand it, have faith. The plan is just."
"How can you even say that?" Sam asked.
"Because it comes from heaven, that makes it just."
"Oh, it must be nice, to be so sure of yourself," Dean snipped.
"Tell me something," Castiel frowned, "when your father gave you an order, didn't you obey?"
Dean glared at the angel. His mind was literally ticking over before he spoke again. "Well, sorry boys, looks like the plans have changed."
Uriel snorted. "You think you can stop us?"
Dean started over and stood in Uriel's face.
"No," he answered. "But if you're gonna smite this whole town, then you're gonna have to smite us with it, because we are not leaving. See, you went to the trouble of busting out of hell. I figure I'm worth something to the man upstairs, and Artemis here has a pretty powerful angel on her ass. So you wanna waste us, go ahead, see how they both dig that."
"I will drag you out of here myself," Uriel hissed.
"Yeah, but you'll have to kill me," Dean shrugged, "then we're back to the same problem. I mean, come on, you're gonna wipe out a whole town for one little witch. Sounds to me like you're compensating for something." He looked back at Castiel. "We can do this. We will find that witch and we will stop the summoning."
"Castiel! I will not let these people-"
"Enough!" Castiel snapped. The angel looked over at Monica who was still behind Art and then back at Sam and Dean. "I suggest you move quickly."
-XXX-
All the while Dean, Sam and Art fought with the two angels, Monica was watching the two angels with a deep, silent fear. She wasn't sure what exactly Uriel wanted, but seeing him standing there in all his angelic fury put her on edge. Something felt wrong. She wasn't sure if she should trust him or not.
Dean glared at the angel. His mind was literally ticking over before he spoke again. "Well, sorry boys, looks like the plans have changed."
Uriel snorted. "You think you can stop us?"
Dean started over and stood in Uriel's face.
"No," he answered. "But if you're gonna smite this whole town, then you're gonna have to smite us with it, because we are not leaving. See, you went to the trouble of busting out of hell. I figure I'm worth something to the man upstairs, and Artemis here has a pretty powerful angel on her ass. So you wanna waste us, go ahead, see how they both dig that."
"I will drag you out of here myself," Uriel hissed.
"Yeah, but you'll have to kill me," Dean shrugged, "then we're back to the same problem. I mean, come on, you're gonna wipe out a whole town for one little witch. Sounds to me like you're compensating for something." He looked back at Castiel. "We can do this. We will find that witch and we will stop the summoning."
"Castiel! I will not let these people-"
"Enough!" Castiel snapped. The angel looked over at Monica who was still behind Art and then back at Sam and Dean. "I suggest you move quickly."
Castiel glanced sideways at Monica but the moment her eyes connected with his, he looked away, a frown taking over his angelic features.
"Let's check our room for hex bags," Art spoke, her desire to get away from the angels was written all over her face. She reached out for Monica and practically dragged her out of the room giving Sam and Dean no choice but to follow the two girls.
Uriel turned to Castiel with a scowl on his face.
"You know what we must do. Why are you stopping us from trying to kill the half breed? She is one of the seals and you let these insubordinate mud monkeys treat us like we're the enemy? Amitiel has ordered that her father be found or the very least we start to find those who know and are keeping it quiet"
Uriel vanished in a flurry of feathers as he looked back at the door that the Winchester brothers and the girls had vanished behind.
"Take care of her, Dean Winchester," Castiel muttered in almost a whisper. "Her father would never forgive you if something were to happen." The angel vanished leaving the room just as empty as it had been when they arrived.