Chapter 6
Zor and Zam

"fear wasn't what was keeping dad in the underground," Sans explained as Dean helped Sam bundle Dr. Gaster into the Impala's back seat. "apparently, staying where he was, right where the underground joins this universe, allowed him to study the code of the universe."

"Code—like in a computer program?" Sam asked.

"right. he didn't tell me much more than that, though."

"And someone's hacked the angels." Dean thought for a moment. "What do you wanna bet it's Naomi?"

"Could explain why she made a deal with Chara," Sam agreed. "If Frisk were convicted of murder and we wiped out the monsters, we'd have had no way to contact Dr. Gaster or understand what he was saying to us."

Sans frowned but climbed in and used his magic to shift Dr. Gaster's head into his lap. "why go to that extreme?"

"Cas," the brothers chorused, and Sam shut the back door.

Once they'd both gotten in the front seat, Dean started the engine and continued, "Cas has been acting weird ever since he got back from Purgatory."

"Blanking out mid-conversation and changing his mind completely when he snaps out of it," Sam elaborated, "doing things that were totally out of character, forgetting things he shouldn't have..."

"If Naomi's been messing with him, the last thing she wants is for us to find out, because she has to know we'll do whatever it takes to free Cas. Even if it means we have to gank her."

"gank?" Sans echoed.

"Kill," Sam translated.

"how do you kill an angel?"

"With one of their own swords. We've got several, thanks to the Apocalypse." At Sans' silent but palpable incredulity, Sam turned to look back at him. "Look, our dad was a Marine before he became a hunter. He served in 'Nam. He raised us to 'Be polite, be professional, but have a plan to kill everyone you meet.' You should probably consider it a compliment that we haven't even tried to figure out how to kill you."

"Oh, I think I know how," Dean admitted, turning onto the skeletons' street. "I just haven't asked for confirmation, and not because I don't think you'd tell me or think you'd try to kill me for asking."

"That's still better than the golem last week, and all he did was kill a Nazi necromancer. We didn't kill him, either," Sam added quickly, addressing Sans. "Saved him and his master, in fact. But we found out how just in case."

Dean heard something click in the back seat and realized it was Sans blinking. "nazi... necromancers."

"It's called the Thule Society," Dean explained. "And we killed those guys in self-defense. Or at least the ones who were after us."

"We were trying to make contact with a group of rabbis called the Judah Initiative," Sam added. "The guy with the golem was the grandson of the last surviving member, who'd just been murdered by the Thule, like, two weeks before."

"what's a rabbi? what's a necromancer? what the hell are nazis?!"*

The Winchesters looked at each other, at a loss for where to begin. But before they could figure out where to start explaining, Dr. Gaster woke up enough to murmur something. Sans responded with the same type of incomprehensible noise, and the two conversed for a moment until Dean parked outside the skeletons' house.

"what... really?!" Sans exclaimed just as Dean shut off the engine.

Dr. Gaster mumbled something else.

"why didn't we ever hear about that?" When Dr. Gaster replied, Sans huffed. "this world is messed up."

"No argument there," Sam chimed in.

"Can we finish the history lesson later?" Dean asked more grumpily than he meant to. "No offense, Doc, but I don't want to risk leaving half of you stuck to my seats."

Dr. Gaster grumbled.

"he says that'd be unfortunate," Sans... translated? Dean suspected he was being diplomatic. "probably uncomfortable, too. i'll get him."

The Winchesters got out, and Sam got the car door for Sans while Dean went ahead to get the house door. To Dean's surprise, though, Sans didn't have Dr. Gaster's entire body wrapped in magic when it floated out of the back seat. Only the shape of an upside-down heart glowed blue in the elder skeleton's chest.

"How are you..." Sam began.

"gravity magic," Sans explained, climbing out after his dad. "apply to the soul, and the body follows. or at least that's the way it works for us."

Dean was in the process of opening the house door when it was wrenched out of his grasp by Undyne. "Hey, where's—Sans!"

"clear the couch?" Sans asked.

"Yeah, yeah, sure. Hey, nerds!" Undyne called, turning back toward the living room. "Clear the couch—hurt monster incoming!"

"WHAT?!" Papyrus yelped and came running. "WHO'S HURT? IS SANS—" Then he stopped short at the threshold and gasped loudly, seeing what was going on.

"Stay back or come out," Dean growled.

Papyrus hurried out and held out his arms, and Sans settled Dr. Gaster into them before shutting off his power with a sigh of relief. Dr. Gaster rasped what might have been a question, looked up at Papyrus, said something else with a smile, and passed out again with his head on Papyrus' shoulder.

Papyrus, on the other hand, looked at his brother, visibly disturbed. "HE KNEW ME. HE... HE SAID MY NAME... AND I UNDERSTOOD HIM. SANS, WHO IS THIS?"

"that's our dad, paps."

Eyes boggling, Papyrus looked down at Dr. Gaster again and cradled him more closely against his ribcage. "OUR FATHER? WHY DON'T I REMEMBER HIM?"

"it's a long story that i'll have to tell later. let's get him inside."

Papyrus nodded and carried Dr. Gaster inside, to be met with a chorus of gasps from Toriel, Alphys, and Frisk. Sans followed, as did Sam, and Dean brought up the rear. As soon as Papyrus set Dr. Gaster on the couch, Toriel rushed over and knelt in front of the couch, put one paw on Dr. Gaster's skull and another on his sternum, and triggered a green glow around both paws. But Sans grabbed Papyrus' hand and started dragging him toward the kitchen, shooting Dean a look and nodding toward the doorway to indicate that the Winchesters should follow. Frowning in confusion, they did so.

Sans actually shut the kitchen door this time before turning to the Winchesters. "tell us about the men of letters," he demanded quietly.

Dean blinked. "Why?"

"when dad was explaining about the thule society, he said there was one comment that kept showing up in the code in cases of major errors: 'alert winchester, men of letters.' that's why he knew to tell you about the angels. so who are the men of letters?"

"Uh, well, we are, now," Sam replied. "We're legacies."

"Just found out about it a few weeks ago," Dean added.

"Back when it was an actual organization, it was a secret society devoted to research on the supernatural. They worked with a team of elite hunters but generally didn't deal with cases in person themselves."

"DO YOU HAVE A LIBRARY?" Papyrus asked. "OR A COMPUTER DATABASE OR SOMETHING?"

"Gorgeous library. We're still exploring it. We need to have a friend of ours come down and look at the computers, too; the newest ones are over fifty years old, so we don't know what's on them. Once we get everything catalogued, I guess, we should probably scan everything into a database just in case."

"Yeah, but first," said Dean, "we need to get hold of Cas, and I'm guessin' the best place to do that ain't here."

Papyrus frowned. "WHY NOT? WHO IS CAS?"

"Castiel, Angel of Thursday. Another war buddy. He's... I dunno. It's complicated. Normally I'd trust him with my life and Sam's, but I'm not sure I'd trust him with yours on a good day. And today ain't a good day, if your dad's tellin' the truth."

"It's not his fault," Sam noted.

"This time, sure. Didn't say it was. Don't change the fact that he's a loose cannon. And we can't let him put us in the same spot Martin did."

Sam winced. Only a few weeks earlier, he'd suspected Benny of being behind a rash of killings in Louisiana and asked Martin Creaser, newly released from a long stint in a mental hospital, to look into the case. Unfortunately, Martin had made up his mind long before Dean had found out that a second vampire was trying to frame Benny, and despite Dean's stooping to what he himself admitted was a dirty trick to try to force both Sam and Martin to drop the hunt, Martin had gone back to the diner where Benny worked and threatened his great-granddaughter. Benny had killed him in self-defense. "We don't know what kind of time we have, though," Sam noted.

"i know you guys have wards for keeping angels out," Sans cut in. "what about a way to keep them in?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah, we can set a trap, at least for Cas. We've done it before. Might keep him off Naomi's leash while we talk to him, too. Might need your help to set it up, though."

"what needs to be done?"

"Pour a circle of holy oil on the ground, light it up once he's inside."

"then how about this: we ward this house, leave paps and undyne on guard. then the three of us go into ebott and interrogate cas there."

"BUT SANS, YOU DON'T HAVE FIRE MAGIC," Papyrus objected.

"We have lighters," Dean countered. "Sam?"

Sam reached for his phone. "I'll call Hennessy, see if someone's got a big enough garage or an empty warehouse."

"BUT—" Papyrus tried again.

Sans cut him off with a raised hand. "paps, this is dangerous. we need you to stay here and protect dad and frisk."

Papyrus shook his head. "THAT'S NOT WHAT I MEANT. I THINK YOU SHOULD TAKE—"

He was interrupted again by a knock, followed by Toriel opening the door just far enough to poke her head into the room. "Forgive me for intruding, Sans dear. I believe your father is asking for you."

"how is he?" Sans asked, going to the door.

"Stable, at least. He is no longer in danger of falling down. But I do not know how much more I will be able to heal him."

"thanks for tryin', sweetheart." He took her paw and brushed his smile against the back, which was probably the closest he could come to giving a kiss. "sleep and some good food should help, too, right, bro?"

"YES, OF COURSE, BUT I THINK YOU SHOULD TAKE—"

With the door open, everyone in the kitchen could hear Dr. Gaster call again, and Sans ducked out past Toriel. Papyrus made a despairing noise and threw up his hands.

"Hold that thought, dude," Dean said, clapping him on the shoulder blade. "I wanna hear it, but we need to find out what your dad wants first. Could be important."

"YOU PROMISE YOU WON'T LEAVE UNTIL I'VE MADE MY SUGGESTION?"

"We still have to set the wards," said Sam. "We'll definitely have time to listen while we do that. Promise."

"THANK YOU! IT REALLY IS IMPORTANT, YOU SEE."

We'll be the judge of that, Dean thought but didn't say as he followed Toriel back into the living room.

Sans was standing in front of the couch in a position where he could watch both Dr. Gaster's mouth and his hands, since the elder skeleton seemed to be trying to sign now and then. Papyrus came out of the kitchen after Dean did and went around the back of the couch to nearly the same position, frowning as he tried to make sense of what Dr. Gaster was saying. None of the other monsters in the room seemed to be able to understand Dr. Gaster, though, so at least the Winchesters weren't the only ones out of the loop.

Frisk, however, touched Dean's hand to get his attention. You understand Sign Language?

A little, Dean signed back.

Doctor name W. D. Frisk paused, then finger-spelled slowly and exaggeratedly for emphasis, W-I-N-G D-I-N-G-S!

Dean raised both his eyebrows and his chin. That explained a lot. Understand. Thank you.

Sans repeated a phrase back to his father in... well, in Wingdings, apparently, and then switched back to English. "you're sure that was the exact phrasing?"

Dr. Gaster made an affirmative noise.

Sans turned to the Winchesters. "dad says it looked to him like the angels were being hacked individually from the outside, not by someone getting into the main source code. but when he was trying to find a way to undo the damage, he couldn't make sense of the controls. and the only comment was, quote, 'see angel tablet, section 15.'"

"There's an angel tablet?!" Sam and Dean chorused and looked at each other.

"Well, I guess it makes sense," Sam conceded. "I mean, there's one for Leviathans and one for demons."

"Probability Naomi knows about it?" Dean asked.

"Approaching 1. Could explain why she made Cas kill Samandiriel, assuming she did. If he broke under Crowley's torture..."

"Okay, we gotta get this house warded now. Sans, you call Hennessy, let him know we're coming."

"got it," Sans agreed and caught Sam's phone when Sam tossed it to him.

Dean pointed to Papyrus next, startling him. "Got somethin' that'll stick to these walls? Chalk, spray paint..."

Papyrus looked around, wild-eyed. "UH..."

"We've got spray paint in the car," Sam answered and started for the door.

But Toriel blocked the way. "No one is going anywhere until someone tells me what is going on!"

"Chara was working with an angel who would rather kill everyone in this town, monster and human, than let us find out what Dr. Gaster knows. Every second this house is unwarded increases the risk that she's going to show up and smite us all."

"Or force another angel to do it for her," Dean added. "We've got a plan to deal with it a safe distance from here, but we need to protect you guys first."

"AND I THINK YOU SHOULD GO WITH THEM, YOUR MAJESTY!" Papyrus declared before anyone could interrupt him yet again.

Toriel blinked in astonishment, then opened the door and got out of Sam's way before coming closer to the couch. "Why do you think that, Papyrus?"

"BECAUSE THEY HAVE TO TRAP CASTIEL WITH BURNING HOLY OIL, AND YOU HAVE THE STRONGEST FIRE MAGIC OF ANYONE EXCEPT HIS MAJESTY AND GRILLBY."

"May need someone to use the Mom Voice on Cas, too," Dean added. "Think he quit responding to the Dad Voice about the third time he came back. And I guess it wouldn't hurt to have some extra backup in case Naomi shows up."

"Um," Alphys piped up as Sam ran back in and tossed a can of spray paint to Dean and Sans went outside to call Hennessy. "I-I-I-I c-could... that is... w-would you... t-t-t-t-t..."

Undyne smacked her on the back.

"OW! Take a c-camera with you s-so we can see wh-what's happening! Not so hard, babe!"

"Sorry," said Undyne and apparently meant it at least halfway. "You were stuck."

"No dice," Dean answered Alphys' question while starting his half of the wards. "We'll be lucky if either or both of 'em don't blow out the lights, and that's a best-case scenario."

"Unless you've got a camera built to withstand an atomic bomb," Sam added over the hiss of his own spray can, "it probably won't hold up to the level of EMF angels can generate. Plus, if one of 'em goes true form, it could destroy the monitor on this end as well."

"What?!" Alphys and Undyne both yelped.

"Put it this way," Dean explained. "When Cas first tried to talk to me, he about burst my eardrums. But we couldn't see him or talk to him, so we went to a psychic, and when she ordered him to show himself to her, he accidentally burned out her eyes."

"She was lucky to survive," said Sam.

Somebody gulped audibly. Dean suspected it was Alphys.

"Well," said Toriel. "If I am to come with you into town, I must go back to my house for a cloak and some other supplies. Yes, my child, I will remember," she added, apparently addressing Frisk. "I will return in five minutes."

"actually, tori, meet us at the tem shop," Sans said, and when he'd come in, Dean didn't know. "need to get something on the way out of town."

"I believe Frisk has anticipated your request, dear, and has offered to share that particular item so you will not have to buy one."

"heh. smart kid. thanks, frisk."

Dean could almost hear Frisk beam at Sans.

And suddenly inspiration struck. The next sigil was one Cas had said they'd need to break to allow him to enter a warded warehouse to rescue a fellow angel, Samandiriel, whom Crowley, the current King of Hell, had captured. As Toriel left, Dean bent down and painted the sigil at a point where Frisk could reach it, then called, "Hey, Frisk, c'mere a minute, would you?"

Frisk obediently trotted over.

"Now, don't touch; the paint's still wet. But when we get back—and not before—I want you to find a marker and put a big X through this sigil, okay? That way your Dunkle Sans can keep usin' his shortcuts."

Understand, Frisk replied with a determined look and then saluted.

Dean couldn't help smiling as he returned the salute. "As you were, Marine."

Frisk grinned at that.

Dr. Gaster said something, and Papyrus responded. The younger skeleton sounded distracted, though, like the sight of graffiti on his walls was bothering him. The bright orange did look pretty awful on the lodgepole pine walls, to be fair.

"There's a hardware store in town, isn't there, Dean?" Sam asked as if reading Dean's mind.

"Think so. If not, there's probably one in Salmon. You thinkin' drywall?"

"Yeah, and maybe some added insulation while we're at it."

"Sure. Not like we've got anything urgent coming up until Kevin translates the part about how to close the gates of Hell."

There was a shift of fabric from the direction of the couch, as if Dr. Gaster had turned his head sharply to stare at Dean. But he didn't say anything until Papyrus spoke to him, and that response sounded curt and dismissive, like when Dad would say nothing was wrong after a bad hunt or when something reminded him of Mom. Dean didn't turn around or say anything, but he knew they needed to come back and actually question Dr. Gaster after they'd finished with Naomi. The Leviathan tablet had left out the information that killing the alpha Leviathan would drag everyone within a ten-foot radius into Purgatory with him; it was a cinch the demon tablet would leave out similarly important information. But though Dean didn't know much about computer code, he did know that it couldn't be as vague as prophecy often was. If Dr. Gaster had seen the code for the switch that would close the gates of Hell, he might be able to tell them exactly what the conditions were—including the stuff that got left off the God rock.

Papyrus cleared his throat (or whatever the skeletal equivalent was). "DRYWALL, IS THAT... TO COVER UP THE SPRAY PAINT?"

"Right," Sam replied. "Dunno if Woshua could get the paint off, but that way you'll still be protected and not have to look at the sigils. Breaking only the one sigil won't affect the barrier against angels; we'd have to break one on each wall for that."

"Barrier?" Undyne echoed warily.

"not that kind," Sans stated. "they had this stuff up in their hotel room, and i walked out just fine."

"Plus, you'll be able to paint and such like you would in a frame house," Dean added. "Should brighten things up."

"OH! AWESOME!" Papyrus exclaimed.

Dean paused, then smiled to himself. He was a terrible influence, but hell, if Papyrus wanted to be cool, there were worse role models.

Conversation paused after that until the Winchesters finished the angel-proofing, which made all the monsters shiver a little as the wards took effect. Then Sans and the Winchesters took their leave and headed back out to the Impala, where Toriel, wearing a long purple cloak with a deep hood pulled forward to hide her face, was waiting with... a cardboard vest and a wall mirror?

"ah, frisk, you're a life-saver," Sans said, accepting the vest. "thanks, tori."

"This is Temmie Armor," Toriel explained as Sans swiftly took off his jacket, put the vest on, and put the jacket back on over it. "It is the most powerful armor a monster can have. I do not particularly need it, being a boss monster, but Sans is... more vulnerable."

"not with this on," Sans declared, zipping up his jacket.

"Frisk also suggested bringing the mirror. Few people know this, but it reflects one's true nature. Perhaps it may be of use in confronting this Naomi."

Dean looked at Sam, who shrugged, and said, "Yeah, sure. Let's put it in the trunk." He took care not to look in the mirror as he passed Toriel on the way to unlock the trunk, but when she set it on the blanket he laid out to wrap it in for transport, he accidentally caught sight of... himself.

Not a monster. Himself. The reflection's face bore a ton more scars, but that was the only difference. He... actually wasn't sure what to do with that information.

Toriel put a gentle paw on his back. "We should hurry."

"Right, right, yeah." Dean wrapped the blanket around the mirror and slammed the trunk shut.

Sans already had his mask and goggles on by the time Toriel squeezed herself into the car, and he handed her Frisk's notebook as Dean closed the door behind her. "hennessy said to meet him at the police department," he said as Dean got in. "the sally port behind the building has a door they can close so people can't see in."

Dean nodded. "Perfect, thanks."

The drive into town was uneventful, though Dean sped a little so that Toriel wouldn't have to spend any longer hunched in the back seat to avoid gouging the headliner with her horns than necessary. He parked outside the sally port to keep the car out of the line of fire should anything go sideways. Hennessy was waiting as promised, though he looked like his coffee had already worn off, but he stared in shock as Toriel got out.

"Officer Hennessy, this is Toriel Dreemurr," Sam said. "She's offered to help with our interrogation."

"Er," said Hennessy. "Good... good morning, ma'am."

"Officer," Toriel returned. "And I believe you know Sans."

"Yes, we... met this morning."

"so this is a sally port, huh?" Sans asked, sauntering past Hennessy. "what's it for?"

"Er, this is where we load and unload prisoners," Hennessy replied, following as Sans had apparently intended and turning his back to the Winchesters. "It's more secure than doing it out front at the curb. See, this door here..."

Toriel turned to accept the still-wrapped mirror from Sam, then turned away to block any immediate view into the trunk while Dean got the angel blades and the holy oil out of the arsenal beneath the trunk's false bottom. He closed the trunk just before Hennessy turned toward them again.

"sounds like you've got the whole thing locked up," Sans deadpanned as Hennessy finished his explanation and the others joined them.

Toriel chuckled.

Hennessy, however, looked startled. "Was that a pun? That... that was a pun, wasn't it?"

"You sure you should be on duty this morning?" Sam asked.

Hennessy groaned and ran a hand over his face. "Probably not, but I promised the media one more press conference in an hour, and I can't risk anyone getting curious while you're back here."

"We could go somewhere else," Dean offered.

"No, no, there's not really another place in town big enough and fireproof enough for what Mr. Gaster said you wanted to do. The high school gym's got a wooden floor, and the old warehouses have all been converted to shops." Hennessy went to a locked switch cabinet, unlocked it, and hit the switch to close the outside door, murmuring something in what sounded like Old Irish as he did so. "There. Just... make it fast, all right?" he asked as he locked the cabinet again.

"We'll do our best... Schultz."

Hennessy blinked at Dean for a moment before catching the Hogan's Heroes reference. "Jolly jokers," he muttered and went back into the building.

Dean shook his head as the door closed. "Damn. Not even an 'I see nothing.' He is tired."

"Yeah, and I'm sure we're not helping," Sam agreed, looking around the space, which was about the size of a three-car garage, well lighted even in the corners, and bare of any place a prisoner could hide while trying to escape. "All right, I guess we'd better just go for it. Cas might be able to sense Sans and Toriel even if there were a place to keep out of sight."

"We are ready," Toriel replied, pushing back her hood.

Dean handed the holy oil to Sans, then took a few steps toward the middle of the space and closed his eyes. "Hey, Cas? It's me. We're at the police station in Ebott, Idaho. Need your help with a case." After a pause, he added, "It's about the angel tablet."

A rush of wings heralded Cas' arrival. "Angel tablet? What are you talking about?" His gravelly voice sounded confused, but when Dean opened his eyes, the expression on Cas' face was one of poorly concealed fear, and he was standing several feet away as if he expected Dean to attack him.

For his part, Dean put on his best poker face. "Hello to you, too."

"What angel tablet?"

"Is that all you're worried about? There've been seven murders in this town, and you show up for a damn tablet?"

Cas started to close the distance between them. "Dean, I..."

Between one step and the next, Dean caught a second's sight of the glimmer of oil on the concrete before a fireball landed between angel and man, sending a wall of holy fire shooting up around Cas. Cas startled backward and nearly caught the edge of his trench coat in the flames behind him.

"What's the meaning of this?" he demanded.

"We're sorry, Cas," Sam said. "We know it's not your fault. But there was no other way."

Cas wasn't even trying to hide his fear anymore. "What's not my fault? Dean, what's going on here?!"

"Who's Naomi?" Dean asked.

Cas started blinking rapidly. "I... I don't..."

"Yeah. You do. Even if you think you don't."

"Someone's hacked the angels' base code," Sam explained. "We think that person knows that someone here figured it out and made a deal with a vengeful spirit to cover her tracks."

"Who... what..." Cas looked around wildly and suddenly spotted Sans and Toriel. "What are they?" he asked Dean.

"Creatures from another universe," Dean answered. "They've got some pretty unique abilities."

"You're working with monsters?"

"Why not? We work with you."

Cas flinched, and his shoulders slumped. "I suppose I deserved that."

"C'mon, man, talk to us. You dragged us halfway across the country to rescue Samandiriel. He was your friend. Then we got him away from Crowley, and you killed him. Why?"

"I don't know. I don't remember. As surely as my Father lives—" Cas caught himself and sighed. "Sorry. I know that doesn't mean much anymore." He still wasn't over the fact that God had ditched Heaven and left the three of them to handle the Apocalypse on their own.

"Do you even remember what you told us?" Sam asked.

"No, but... I suspect now it wasn't the truth. Sam, you said something about coding."

"Right."

"I have a very vague memory of Samandiriel using that word... he said... that Crowley had gained access to our coding and learned certain secrets from it."

"access is one thing," Sans spoke up, walking over beside Dean. "the information we have says someone's tampered with the base code—made changes to it from the outside, added controls that weren't originally there."

Cas frowned as he considered the possibility and the implications. "And you think the person responsible is this... Naomi?"

"Makes a hell of a lot more sense than Crowley doin' it," Dean noted. "You've been actin' weird since you got back from Purgatory. If you're remembering right, there's no way Crowley got that deep until just before we got to the warehouse."

"It is also the best explanation for Naomi's involvement in the murders here," Toriel added. "Their goal was to convince Sam and Dean to consider our people a threat and slaughter us. Mere spite would not motivate a true angel to act in such a way."

"I dunno. You never knew Zachariah. Him, I killed," Dean confessed to Sans.

"Zachariah wasn't acting only on spite, though," Sam noted. "He just got fed up with us not playing ball on the Apocalypse."

"Yeah, good point. So what the hell is Naomi's excuse?"

"Can't you guess?" replied an unexpected, unfamiliar female voice.

As one, the interrogators turned to face the grey-suited brunette who looked enough like Frisk's first drawing to probably be Naomi.

"After everything that's happened since the Apocalypse," she went on, "Heaven has been in a state of total chaos. That is not our Father's will. Someone had to step in and take charge."

"With mind control?" Dean asked.

"Angels aren't meant to have free will. That's what caused the problem in the first place."

"baloney," said Sans. "if that were true, you wouldn't have had to change their coding."

"And you wouldn't have considered the deaths of one angel and seven humans an acceptable price to protect your secret," Sam added.

Naomi scoffed. "What makes you think that was my motive?"

"This," said Toriel, dropped the blanket, and raised the mirror.

Naomi turned to look—and recoiled when it showed, not her true form, but her vessel... with Chara's red eyes and creepy smile. "What?!" she gasped.

"all you care about is your own power," Sans declared. "you use your father's will as a pretext, but you don't actually care about his precepts. the lives of others mean nothing to you—human, monster, demon, angel. everyone's expendable as long as you get what you want."

"That's what you saw in Chara, wasn't it?" Sam continued. "She hated humans and thought monsters were weak. She'd kill whoever it took to gain the level of violence she needed to get what she wanted. You came when she called not just because you saw a means to an end, a way to keep anyone from learning what Dr. Gaster knows. You saw a kindred spirit."

"The demon that comes when people call its name," Dean concluded.

Naomi shook her head but couldn't tear her eyes away from the damning image in the mirror. "No... no, I... I..."

"This is not your Father's will," Toriel stated sternly.

"No." Naomi shut her eyes and shook her head again. "No, you're right. We were made to protect God's creation. I don't know when we forgot that."

"you've got all kinds of special powers," Sans noted. "don't you think that means you have a responsibility to do the right thing?"

"We thought we were!"

"then why would you exploit a dirty brother killer like that?"

Naomi opened her eyes and rounded on him. "I was wrong, all right? I admit it!"

"newsflash, lady. 'sorry' won't cut it, not now."

"And you can't just snap your fingers and undo the damage," Dean agreed.

"Maybe not," Naomi admitted. "But I can stop it from getting any worse. Crowley is searching for the angel tablet, but it won't do him any good without a prophet who can interpret it. As long as Kevin Tran is safe, it's not worth our while to continue killing to protect the tablet."

"Where is it?" Sam asked.

Naomi shook her head. "Lucifer stole it and buried it in a crypt somewhere in the US. Crowley has a hostage who knows where it is."

Sam looked at Dean. "We can call Garth, have him put some hunters on it."

"Yeah, and we can move Kevin to safer quarters." Dean somehow didn't feel safe mentioning the bunker in front of Naomi. "What about these guys?" he added, gesturing toward Sans and Toriel.

"Dr. Gaster's knowledge is more dangerous now to Hell than it is to Heaven," Naomi replied. "I would offer protection, but in all honesty, the protection they already have from the Tuatha de Danaan is sufficient." She looked past Dean to Cas. "I think Heaven's due for some repentance and hard conversations. Castiel, I... I won't make you come. But if you will, I promise to listen."

"I don't know what right I have to lecture," Cas confessed. "But as long as I can leave when my friends need help, I'll come. I have to make things right, or at least try."

Toriel waved a paw and extinguished the holy fire, and the angels left without saying goodbye.

As Dean helped Toriel wrap the mirror in the blanket again, Hennessy came out of the building. "Is... is that it? Is it over?"

"As far as Ebott's concerned, yeah," Sam replied.

Hennessy ran a hand over his face. "That was... I mean... what do I tell the press?"

"Accomplice was wanted for espionage and is now in federal custody," said Dean. "Or, y'know, whatever the hell you want."

"Just remember Gibbs' Rule #7," Sam added. "Always be specific when you lie."

Hennessy nodded wearily. "Espionage. Right. Thanks. This never happened." He started to go back in, caught himself, opened the sally port, and then went inside.

Sans used his magic to pull Toriel's hood up for her, since her hands were full. "what about as far as east ebott's concerned?"

"Got no bone to pick with you guys," said Dean. "But we do have a mess to clean up. Need to talk to Grillby again about Benny."

"and dad?"

"Yeah, your dad. Like to know what else he's got stashed inside that skull of his."

"Well, then," said Toriel, "we had better go and find out."

.

* Given the haphazard way information from the surface made its way into the Underground and the fact that Alphys could convince Undyne, who isn't stupid, that anime was real, it's entirely possible that Sans' education would not have covered human religions or World War II (if the latter even happened in the Undertale universe).