AUTHOR'S NOTES: There's a bit of a time shift with this story to cover up for the winter hiatus. Just an FYI.
Chapter 3
Balthazar hadn't wanted to play 'Ghost of Christmas Present'. He always saw himself more fitted to 'Christmas Past'. The idea of the silent, hooded specter finally showing Scrooge the truth about where his current path would lead was oh, so appealing.
However, Balthazar found himself understanding his current role as he found Castiel sitting in a bar, staring at the mirror behind, and studying his own reflection.
"You do realize that you're becoming more and more like him, don't you?" Balthazar asked, looking over at his brother while a buxom bartender poured both angels shots. "Pretty soon, you'll be driving a classic car instead of flying and developing a taste for classic rock music. Although if that means you stop wearing that trenchcoat, then perhaps that's a good thing."
"What do you want, Balthazar?" Castiel asked, turning his piercing blue eyes to his brother.
"I'm what you might call the 'Ghost of Christmas Present," Balthazar replied, sipping his drink.
"It's March," Castiel corrected.
"Dickens?" the older angel asked, with a lift of the eyebrows. "'A Christmas Carol'? Ring a bell?"
"Why you?" Castiel asked, not sure if he wanted to hear the answer.
"Because whatever stupid things you've done, whatever mistakes you've made, you are still my brother," Balthazar stated, simply. Tossing back the rest of his drink, he shrugged. "Hmm. And need I remind you that Dean Winchester has stood by his brother through demon blood and starting the Apocalypse."
"I have done considerably worse things than Sam," Castiel pointed out.
"And no one is disputing that point," Balthazar replied. "All I'm saying is that you are my brother, Castiel. And apparently I'm one of the few angels in Heaven who will stand by you even though you're—I believe Dean would use the phrase—a 'dick'." Standing up, he and Castiel were immediately transported to the home of Bobby Singer.
"There you are," Bobby snapped as he came into the library, glaring at the angel. "Been calling you non-stop for the past hour, ya idjit."
Castiel was surprised to see that he was now alone and he turned to Bobby whose brow was lifted in a questioning look. "My apologies," Castiel muttered.
Bobby studied the angel for a moment before going to his desk and pulling out two glasses and a bottle of scotch. After pouring two hefty shots, he handed one to Castiel. "I fought in Vietnam when I was younger," Bobby began, setting the bottle down before picking up his glass. "I did things that still haunt me—sometimes even worse than what I've done as a hunter." Fixing the angel with a look, he went on. "And I remember when I saw Sam when he was on the demon blood. You're going down a dark road, Castiel."
Castiel looked up sharply at the comparison. He started to open his mouth to speak but he couldn't find the words to explain what he'd done.
But Bobby understood. "I ain't sayin' I approve of what you're doing," he said, quickly, lest the angel draw the wrong conclusion. "I'm just saying I know what it's like being between a rock and a hard place. And I know about watching someone go down the wrong road."
"If I lose this war, we will be right back where we started," Castiel said, quickly. "And Sam's descent into the cage will have been for nothing."
"And what happens when someone kills you for what you've done?" Bobby asked, raising a point. "Then you're gone and Heaven'll probably be in even more chaos than before."
Castiel finished off his drink and before he could object, the older hunter had refilled the glass. "I'm sorry," Cas said, honestly.
"Don't be," Bobby said, shaking his head. "I'm not the one you have to apologize to."
"Sam and Dean," Castiel said, quietly.
Bobby just nodded wordlessly but before Cas could say anything else, he heard Dean calling him.
xxx
Appearing in a motel room, Castiel had barely taken a step before he found himself surrounded by holy fire. Looking past the flames, he saw Sam and Dean standing by one of the beds. Dean looked both hurt and pissed and Sam looked almost disappointed. "I can explain," Castiel began, although even he knew that his excuses and explanations were weak.
"Castiel, I am only going to ask you this once," Dean said, slowly. "Is it true? Is what Eve said true? Are you working with demons?"
"It's more complicated than that," Castiel said, wishing this was easier.
"Cas," Dean said, unable to stop a choke in his voice. "Look me in the eye and tell me you're not working with Crowley." But when the angel refused to even make eye contact, Dean felt his heart clench as he realized that it was all true. "What happened to you, man? You're supposed to be our friend, Cas!" Dean shouted, feeling hurt and angry. "What you're doing? We hunt things like you."
"Dean," Sam said, calmly.
"That was different, Sam," Dean snapped. "Okay? The-the demon blood, and the powers, that's one thing. You weren't using innocent souls to win a war!"
Sam just sat down on the bed, silently watching Dean and Castiel.
"What happened, Cas?" Dean asked again, this time feeling tears in his eyes. "And to hell with the war, man. I believed in you. I had…" But he couldn't get out the word 'faith'. Because he didn't know if he even had it anymore. "It was bad enough that Sam lied to me, but you?"
"I was losing the war, Dean," Castiel began. "Raphael had the upper hand. But one of his angels accidently attacked an innocent soul. It decimated every angel within a 50 foot radius—angels on my side and his. I realized that the souls were my best chance at winning."
Dean ran a hand over his face. He didn't know what to do about all this. He knew what the costs were if Castiel lost the war, but looking at the angel now trapped in a ring of holy fire, he also saw Sam and heard his father's voice in his head. "You have to save your brother. And if you can't… you have to kill him." But Sam was Dean's brother. His flesh and blood brother.
But Castiel had sacrificed himself twice for Sam and Dean. The angel had gone against Heaven and ventured into the very heart of Hell to rescue Dean. Blood didn't matter. As far as Dean was concerned, Castiel was also his brother. Dean knew what he had to do. He knew he had to stop Cas from going Dark Side, but just like with Sam, Dean couldn't do it.
"You have to stop me, Dean," Castiel said, finally meeting the hunter's eyes. "Please. Before I do something terrible."
"No," Dean said, firmly.
"Dean," Sam said, standing up. "We have to. We don't have a choice!"
"Yes, we do!" Dean shouted, looking from Sam to Castiel and back again. "Damnit, Sam, I didn't give up on you, and I'm not giving up on him!"
"Sam's right," Castiel pressed as he withdrew his blade and handed it to Dean. "Before I hurt anyone else."
"No," Dean insisted as he walked right up to the ring of fire. But before he could say anything else, he was sent flying across the room with one punch from Castiel. Lying in a crumpled heap on the floor, Dean saw Sam use his jacket sleeve to grab the archangel blade but before the younger Winchester could strike, Dean said, hoarsely, "Sam, no!"
Sam stopped, turning to Dean, incredulous. "Dean, what does Castiel have to make you see that he's dangerous?" Sam shouted. Had his brother lost his mind? Cas was turning into the very type of monster they hunted! The angel had to be stopped!
Dean slowly sat up. From what he could tell, he had a concussion a broken arm, at least 2 broken ribs. But looking at Sam and Castiel, he shook his head. "No, Sammy," Dean said, weakly. "Remember… what Dad said."
Sam dropped the blade and went to Dean's side as his brother lost consciousness.
"What did your father say to Dean?" Cas wanted to know. Scratch that—he needed to know.
Sam was scrambling for the keys to the Impala so he could take Dean to the emergency room but he stopped and looked at Castiel, realizing what Dean meant. "Before he died, Dad told Dean to kill me." When Sam saw Castiel straighten up as though preparing himself for execution, he went on "But only if he couldn't save me."
Picking his brother up, Sam left the motel room and headed for the nearest hospital.
A/N: Next up, the Ghost of Things Yet To Come. And it's the last person Castiel ever expected.
