AN- Hmmmm...there seems to be some confusion about the last couple of chapters. Dean is not stuck in a room somewhere though Castiel has threatened to do that a while back. The idea behind these chapters is that Castiel is just showing up when he wants to screw, sometimes literally, with Dean.
Anyway chapter warning- OC but they get dead by the end of the chapters. OC death but not done in detail. More alluded to. Some violence but nothing explicit. Also No beta. I ain't got no time for that. PS-Thanks for reading btw. Comments left will be blood sacrificed to Castiel for his love and forgiveness.While up in Montana, the boys began investigating what they were led to believe was a coven of witches wanting to summon their pagan chaos god of choice. Winchester luck would have it otherwise though.
Enjoying a brilliant night sky for a moment before they got down to business, Dean and Sam were staked out in a field waiting for the witches to show up and start their ritual when a small convoy of mixed vehicles pulled up swiftly to surround the Impala. Old junkers, a mini RV, and more than a few pick ups formed a tight circle around them, the amount of headlights and high beams enough to blind if one were not careful. The boys shielded their eyes as they went for their guns.
"What the hell?", Dean swore under his breath, turning to Sam who mirroring his own perplexed expression with a touch more furrowed brow and a dash of bitch. "What do you make of this?"
"Do you think they're friendly?", Sam answered quietly, shielding his eyes as he took count and made note of positioning.
Dean rolled his eyes. "Yeah, Sam. I think this is a regular ice cream social.", he snapped. "When is anyone ever 'friendly' with us?".
"Fair enough.", Sam sighed, "Let me rephrase that. Do you think they want to kill us or ask questions first?". The night returned to itself as all the headlights were killed at once and the convoy's occupants began to get out.
"Don't know. Don't care. Let's go find out.", Dean grunted as he opened the door of the Impala to haul himself out of the car, gun openly in hand. Sam sighed, following suit with the demon blade in one hand and a gun in the other. They were ridiculously outnumbered but at the moment, no one seemed to be pointing a weapon at them. That wasn't enough to make Sam relax though. A quick glance over at his brother confirmed that Dean wasn't buying it either. The boys moved in tandem along either side of the car until they could stand back to back in front of it, waiting with weapons raised.
For the most part, the men and women surrounding them looked human enough, but both brothers knew from a lifetime of experience that appearances could be deceiving. "Are you going to call Cas?", Sam mumbled, pitching his voice low enough so that only Dean could hear, that was if the all the beings here were actually human.
"Oh hell no. I happen to like Montana. We don't need Cas getting his panties in a twist and wiping out the state in overkill.", Dean grumbled back in time before the leader of the ragtag group stepped forward. He was a grizzled older man wearing what most of them all wore, the hunter's unofficial uniform of old, frayed jeans, a near rainbow mixture of plaids, comfortable Henley shirts, steel toed hiking boots, and enough weapons carried on their person to start a revolution in some small third world countries. The guy would have reminded Dean a bit of Bobby if the bastard wasn't smiling. Bobby didn't smile for shit and Dean didn't trust people who did, especially people who had essentially just boxed him and his brother in what was blatantly appearing more and more to be a trap for them with every passing second. Dean would have gladly taken witches over this crap.
"You boys Sam and Dean Winchester?", the man asked with a grin that said that he already knew the answer but formality demanded that he waste time to ask anyway.
"Depends.", Dean answered cause he could waste time too and why the hell should he make it easy for anyone else.
"On what?", the man's smile dropped a couple of notches at Dean's tone and arched brow.
"On who's doing the asking." Dean smirked, giving himself some brownie points for personal victory. From the back of his head, he could feel Sam giving him one of his patented looks. Dean dully ignored it as he kept his gun and his eyes trained on the large man in front of him.
"Calm yourself, son. We're all family here. We're all hunters, just like you.", the man went for a paternal tone, making Dean instantly put the asshole on his shit list. He hated that patronizing crap, especially from strangers.
"Well good for you. Problem is, the last couple of hunters who came looking for us killed me and my brother in cold blood.", Dean said in a calm tone bordering on bored to let the man and his band of misfits hunters know that they were not impressed by them.
"Don't you mean tried to?", the man's smile dropped off completely to be replaced with a look of disbelief and confusion.
"Did I stutter?", Dean glared, leveling his gun with the man's chest, "We ain't got nothing against no one, but that being said, we're not all gung-ho about teaming up with anyone."
"How'd you figure that we'd want to do that?", the man asked, schooling his expression more carefully now as he studied Dean and Sam. It was obvious even to him that the boys weren't buying what he was selling.
"People….Hunters only come looking for us when they want something. Or want to kill us. We're still talking so I'm guessing you don't want us dead just yet.", Dean countered. To his surprise, the man laughed though the noise of empty of any real emotion or mirth.
"Fair enough. Why don't you put your peashooters away and we'll talk some shop. I'm Jacob by the way. I'll introduce you to the others later after we're done.", Jacob said, looking pointedly at Dean's and Sam's weapons as he raise his empty hand up in the universal sign of disarmament.
"I take it there's no witches then?", Dean hazarded a guess, lowering his weapons but not holstering them. He figured that Jacob and his band of yahoos would just have to deal.
"There was but we took care of them a couple of weeks back. Thought it was a good excuse as any to catch you boy's attention though and get you here. It's not like we leave behind a calling card in this line of work to keep in contact with each other and Bobby won't give out your numbers to no one", Jacob shrugged, that annoying grin back, hinting that he knew something that they didn't. Dean was really hoping that this idiot turned out to be a demon or some other sort of supernatural so that he could shoot him.
"Yeah, Bobby's good for that.", Sam threw over his shoulder, keeping their back to back positioning, his own gun still covering the other hunters. Dean approved. He didn't trust these bastards either. "How about we cut the crap and you just tell us what you want already?".
"Well sir, me and my associates…", Jacob began. Dean bit the inside of his cheek to keep from rolling his eyes at the man's theatrical tone. He could already tell that Jacob loved the sound of his own voice and that this was going to be long winded.
"Oh this will be good.", Dean muttered under his breath. Sam sighed, the action sending rumbles against Dean's back, letting him know that his brother had heard him and wholeheartedly agreed.
"…have been talking about taking out this new god.", Jacob continued, not noticing or simply just ignoring the Winchester's discontent. "I'm sure you boys have noticed that things haven't been right lately. All these religious leaders and motivational speakers being picked off, politicians' headquarters being razed to the ground with their supporters in it, all those missing lawyers turning up at the bottom of the ocean…that shit ain't right".
"I don't know, Jake. Sounds like a good start to me.", for tact, thy name was not Dean Winchester, who got a frown from Jacob and a sharp elbow in the back from Sam.
"Dude!", Sam whispered harshly. "Not appropriate."
"What? Too soon?", Dean shrugged, not really caring. He thought the whole lawyer thing was kinda funny in a morbid sort of way and further proof that Castiel still really didn't get a joke when he heard one.
"Anyway, given your history, at least the parts we think are true, we all came to a decision.", Jacob moved the conversation forward in a blatant attempt to recapture his own self perceived grandeur. Dean felt bad for the supernaturals this guy hunted. He probably bored them half to death with a long unnecessary speech before blessed dispatch.
"And what would that be?", Sam asked, realizing first that Jacob was pausing longer than usual than polite conversation dictated, obviously wanting the hunters to ask him that question, like he was about to grace the Winchesters with a gift or something. It made Sam grit his back teeth, the entire situation reminding him of that sleaze ball angel Zachariah when he informed them that they were going to be vessels and they had better be happy about it.
"We think that this new god needs to be down a peg as in permanently and that your brother is just the man to do it.", Jacob revealed with a too wide grin. It dropped as Sam turned to stand beside his older brother, both of the Winchester's answering stares hard and steely as the guns being leveled at Jacob's head.
"So let me get this straight? You want Dean to kill god for you?", Sam bitch faced hardcore as he glared at the man, Jacob's grin of pride and accomplishment beginning to wilt under the sheer force of it.
"Now hold your horses, boy….", and wasn't that really beginning to get under Dean's skin. With the obvious exception of Bobby, he didn't appreciate anyone referring to him or his 6'4 brother as 'boy', especially after both of them had stopped the damn Apocalypse and spent decades in Hell. "We got a plan.".
"Oh a plan. He's got a plan, Sam. I'm so relieved. I can't wait to hear it.", Dean mocked to Sam who nodded back in feigned seriousness. He was pleased to see Jacob's face harden, finally losing its smug overtones.
"We got a weapon. The only weapon you'll ever need.", Jacob said finally when he was sure that he had the Winchesters' full attention.
"Sure you do.", Dean snorted in amused disdain. He couldn't wait to hear what these asshats had come up with.
"We got the Colt.", Jacob said as he produced the legendary gun itself to them, the handle toward the older Winchester. He offered the gun to Dean who made no move to take it perhaps because Jacob was acting like a man who had just laid out a well timed full straight in a game of poker. To his disappointment, Jacob was not met with the intended astonishment from his audience as the Winchesters coolly glared back at him.
"Good for you. Are we done here?", Dean asked, his cold tone bordering on bored. Sam's own disinterest was a near tangible thing that left Jacob faltering and the surrounding hunters shifted uneasily. This obviously wasn't going how they planned or wanted.
"N-now wait a good god damn minute.", Jacob stammered, "Don't you boys care? This sort of thing should be right up your alley.".
"Oh we care…..", Sam began.
"…..we just don't think it's going to work.", Dean finished.
"But it's the Colt.", Jacob repeated the obvious in his disbelief of what was happening. He tried offering the gun again to Dean, like that action alone would fix everything. "Take it. It's yours.".
Let it not be said that Dean Winchester didn't appreciate a fine weapon of quality and power, the hunter taking the old gun of legend in hand once again. It fit the palm of his hand as neatly as it always did, as if it were meant to be there, made for his flesh. Dean didn't know how the hell or where these hunters had gotten the gun all things considered. The last time it had been in his possession was in Carthage, Missouri before Lucifer had taken it from him. The Colt didn't look any worse for wear considering the Devil must have had it for a while, the Latin phrasing of 'I will fear no evil' and decorative metal work still shining from its sides, Dean thumbing the worn pentagram at the base of the handle almost affectionately. If it not were his own beloved ivory handled, engraved Colt 1911 A1 .45 caliber semi automatic, he would have to admit that this gun was his favorite.
"Tell the Devil that. I personally put a bullet in-between that bastard's eyes at point blank.", Dean mused, smiling slightly in memory though none of his thoughts were good about the whole ordeal. "Like us, you didn't read the fine print."
"What the hell are you talking about? The Colt will kill anything.", Jacob snapped, giving up his fake calm for impatience.
Dean's smile grew wider into an all out grin, tight around the edges with no real joy left in it. "Expect for five things or so Lucy said, after I shot him. Maybe it's six now though. Dunno. Disclaimers are a bitch that way.", he shrugged before mock saluting Jacob and his group of silent hunters with the Colt. "So good luck with your little power plan cause it's not going to work. All it's gonna do is piss god off."
"Dean's right. Castiel is more of your instant punishment kind of god. He doesn't seem to have the patience for the long game of forgiveness and seeing the light.", Sam shook his head. "If you're smart and not want to die bloody, you'll drop this.".
"But thanks for the gun.", Dean smirked, tucking the Colt into his belt as he watched Jacob's face darken to a very interesting shade of puce.
"You're seven shades of stupid if you think we're going to let you keep it.", Jacob snapped, bringing their talk to an abrupt end as he went for his own guns, all the surrounding hunters following his lead.
Before the air went hazy and sharp with smell and smoke of gunpowder and deafening from the amount of gunfire, Dean was able to shove Sam behind him, the seasoned hunter ducking and rolling as he fell, taking cover underneath the Impala. Sam stopped short though when he realized that Dean was not following behind him. The tall man twisted and wiggled under the bulk of the heavy car in time to witness Dean get blasted with every type of ammo at a hunter's disposal. Rock salt, silver, and blessed iron slammed into Dean's body, making it shift and dance from the impact. Sam's scream was lost in among all the noise as he watched Dean take bullet after bullet.
It should have tainted the air red with blood mist and white from flying bones chips. It should have turned the older Winchester's body into hamburger. It should have done a lot of things. All it did do was ruin one of Dean's favorite plaid shirts and put some holes in the Impala. Dean grimaced up at the night sky when he heard the windshield get shot out.
"Son of a bitch. I just fixed that.", Dean sighed as the smoke cleared and everyone took a moment to stare at him with wide, white rimmed eyes. Sam deemed it safe enough to slip out from under the car as he watched what was left of Dean's shirt flutter off of him to reveal unmarked skin save for the golden handprint on his shoulder, the Enochian writing within the mark pulsing with light that shone from Dean's skin like liquid gold. If that wasn't disconcerting enough, a halo made of scarlet and iridescent flame blue shimmering into existence over Dean's head like a crown made of holy fire. Dean glared up at in open disgust before shaking his head which did nothing to dislodge the halo.
"What are you?", Jacob gaped, he and his hunters taking a step back. Most of them were struggling to reload their weapons in record survivors among them were already getting into their vehicles and backing up with squealing tires. Dean watched them go knowing that he would be able to catch up with them later. They were only delaying the inevitable.
"What the hell are you?", Jacob repeated gaping, his own weapon seemingly forgotten in hand as the gun fell from out of his numb fingers.
"Your guess is as good as mine.", Dean told him, noting how his voice filled the field now, the boom of it like distant thunder. As nice as it was to have the Colt back because really no one should have that kind of power at their fingertips, Dean knew he didn't need it. Not now anyway, not anymore, not after Castiel had recreated him into something new and improved. He didn't know what he was or what he had been made into but he felt power, Grace, whatever the hell fueled him now coarsing through his veins like blood transcended into star matter, darting through his body from head to toe, enough so that it was starting to crack the earth beneath his feet and make the air shimmer around him. Dean rolled his neck, cracking his knuckles as he stretched, feeling incredibly good for having just been shot at.
"But you just tried to kill my brother. Say hi to Crowley for me. I have a feeling that you'll be heading his way."