Silence hung heavy in the motel room.
Jo Harvelle lay on the bed, far more Snow White with her pallor than Sleeping Beauty. In the time it had taken Dean to carry her from outside the library back to the motel room, Jo's condition had deteriorated rapidly. By the time they got her to the room, Jo was pale as death, feverish and her breathing was incredibly unsteady. Her brief moment of consciousness did not return. She was limp as a ragdoll when Dean had placed her on the bed and Raphael had moved to her side. Now the only sound in the room was the almost inaudible sound of Raphael's healing on the young woman's broken body.
Castiel stood by the door, looking at the sight in front of him. In Heaven the Archangels were in high demand, high enough that it was rare to see two of them together. But suddenly he found himself in the same room as two of them, before that he had been with three of the Archangels. Castiel couldn't help but think of what the other Angels in his garrison would say if they could see him now. Him. Standing, guarding the door for two of the most powerful Archangels in Heaven. Castiel had been certain given his interaction with Raphael and what he had learned from Lucifer that he would be in Heaven only to be banished or, worse, to Fall. But now he realized that there was a chance he was going to come out of this without a one way ticket to Hell and the thought made him feel, well, happier and more at peace than he had in some time.
"Raphael," Gabriel spoke finally, "you got something you want to share with the class?"
Raphel shifted on the chair he was sitting on. His hands were moving continuously over Jo's body in overlapping circles. While he focused on her stomach and throat, the damage was everywhere. There was simply too much to focus on one part of the girl in front of him. She was dying. An Angel, especially one of Michael's power, leaving a body in the state hers was in, it was nothing short of insane. Every bit of him that healed, every ounce of power he had, it all screamed that this was a lost cause. That perhaps it was the will of a Higher Power that this girl die. Everything he was screamed it and yet he continued to heal her, continued to pour energy into her body, as much as she could take. He was too busy focusing on that to answer Gabriel's snappy prod.
Gabriel got seamlessly to his feet and walked away from him to where Castiel was standing. It was pride that made Castiel stand tall, pride that kept him in his place, that made him want to object to the training that made him stand taller. Training that made him avert his eyes in a show of deference to his superior. Despite what Gabriel had done, despite the fact that he knew that he had done nothing truly wrong, he still found himself showing submission to Gabriel. Even though the Archangel had rebelled, had abandoned and had thrown him into a series of tv shows, beating the tar out of him in the process. In spite of all of that Castiel lowered his eyes and bowed his head to the Archangel as he walked over and stood by Castiel.
"Cut the shit," Gabriel said, "we all know you don't want to show me anything but your middle finger," he crossed his arms, "so why don't you?"
"You are still my superior," Castiel said.
"I would not hold the old rules in such a high regard," Raphael spoke from his vantage point.
"Raphael," Gabriel said, his voice full of warning.
"You did not take Dean when you could have, you abandoned your station in Heaven and you willingly support and protect Lucifer's true vessel," Raphael said, voice unnervingly calm, "and you would have another Angel believe that the rules hold true," Castiel looked down, "speak, Castiel," Raphael said.
"Order is the enemy of Chaos," Castiel said, quoting a proverb they had heard many times, "I will uphold any order that I can."
"Order," Raphael shook his head, "there is no Order in this place."
Gabriel's fingers balled into fists as he looked at his fellow Archangel, disgust in his eyes. It did not take much for Castiel to guess what that was about. Despite his abandonment and subsequent return, Castiel--and every other Archangel in Heaven--was very aware of the fact that Gabriel would follow Michael to Hell and back. Raphael's snide comment was clearly directed at the vessel below, at Jo and therefore at Michael himself. That was something Gabriel would not tolerate. Castiel knew he was only tolerating Raphael's presence because of Michael's orders and because of the laws that governed them. But it seemed like Gabriel was close to a breaking point and while Castiel knew he would not hurt Michael's vessel, he also knew that Gabriel wanted nothing more than to throw Raphael through a brick wall.
"Just say it already," Gabriel said
"I have far more to concentrate on," Raphael said dismissively, his hands not breaking their motion, "it will be a miracle if this Vessel survives until Michael's return."
"Then I suggest you pull a miracle out of your ass," Gabriel snapped.
"Jo," Castiel said. Both Archangels looked at him and he felt heat on the back of his neck at their speculation. Still he continued, "her name is Jo Harvelle."
"Sympathy and compassion," Raphael said, "no wonder you failed your mission."
"You know, now I remember why I left," Gabriel said rolling his eyes, "pretentious, snot nosed Archangels like you."
"You rebelled as well," Raphael said glancing over his shoulder.
"Yeah, so?" Gabriel shrugged, "at least I didn't forget why I was created," Raphael looked down at Jo, his jaw working back an forth, "don't feel bad," Gabriel said looking at Castiel, "we're supposed to love humanity. They're like our snot nosed little brothers who we pretend to hate to look cool in front of a friends for, but really, we love 'em," he looked at Raphael, "dickbag over here just forgot that," Castiel rolled his eyes, "and now he's got his panties in a wad because Michael did what was necessary."
"Taking this vessel--this dying girl, it was anything but necessary and we both know it!" Raphael shouted, patience finally snapping, "she is not his intended Vessel. He is only supposed to take over Dean Winchester--it is what is written!"
"Oh blow it out your ass," Gabriel snapped, "in case your head's been too far up there to notice, we're past what's written. Lucifer's in a new Vessel, Michael's got a new one too and as his brethren we must help him. So unless you want a one way ticket to Hell I suggest you get on the fuck on the train," he looked over at Castiel, "this one gets it, why is it so above your head?" Raphael opened his mouth, "I don't really care what you're about to say so how about you work on keeping whats-her-face-alive?"
Raphael looked back at Jo angrily, focusing on the task at hand as Gabriel stepped to the side and leaned against the wall next to Castiel. The Angel stood still as he looked at Raphael, an odd ringing coming into his ears. He bowed his head and lowered his eyes as he focused on Angelic abilities that he had not had to use in some time. He knew it would be virtually impossible for him to reply to Gabriel, just as he knew whatever message he had to give him was important enough that he did not want Raphael to hear. Especially since Castiel had a feeling Gabriel did not fully trust his brother.
'Sam Winchester cleared out of here pretty fast,' Gabriel's thoughts came into his head, spoke with the Archangel's voice, 'he doesn't like salt and that tattoo of his--the anti-demon one--was scratched,' Castiel balled his fists, 'he's changing and we both know it.'
Castiel gave the barest nod as Gabriel continued.
'I made excuses to Raphael and got the two of them to wait outside but the Archangel's aren't going to stand by forever,' he waited, 'neither are the Demon Lords,' he added, his voice softer, 'they will come for him like we came for you. I think Lucifer's patience is wearing thin. He's going to up his game real soon.'
"Castiel," Raphael spoke. Castiel's head jerked up as he looked at him, "switch places with Dean," he glared down at the girl in front of him, "I fear she truly will need a miracle to survive."
Castiel nodded, trading a look with Gabriel before he tugged the door open and stepped outside. The night was unusually cool, especially when he came from a room that had crackled with Angelic power. On the other side of the door the two Winchester's stood. Gabriel had ordered the two of them out of the motel room the second that Dean had put Jo on the bed and though they had struggled, ultimately Gabriel had pitched them out with his power. Now Castiel could see why. Sam was pale and tight faced, seeming to do everything in his power to keep from throwing up and passing out all together. Dean looked too lost in his own confusion and worry to notice, especially given the cheap motel lighting that seemed to make everyone look inches from death. The moment he saw Castiel however, his head flew up and he crossed the space to where the Angel was standing.
"What's going on? How is she? Why the hell'd you throw us out like that--"
"Dean," Castiel interrupted sharply, "you need to go inside. Gabriel and Raphael are in there, they will direct you."
"Direct me? What the hell is that supposed to mean? Cas, what's going on in there?" the Hunter demanded.
"Go inside," Castiel said.
Dean's jaw worked back and forth in anger but he did, his worry for the girl serving as Michael's Vessel overriding his need to beat information out of Castiel. The moment the door shut, Sam Wincester turned around and emptied his stomach onto the cheap asphalt of the parking lot. Castiel looked down at the terrible sound, his own stomach sinking as the truth of Gabriel's words hit him. He had not noticed Sam's dislike of salt, nor the marred tattoo on his chest. But now, now it was painfully clear that Sam Winchester was undergoing a change, a change he had successfully kept hidden from even his brother. Castiel wished he could say it was food poisoning or some other human ailment that was making Sam sick, but he knew that it was the Angelic presence. It was the two Archangels and the power they were using. Angelic power making Sam sick.
Sam kept his eyes closed and remained doubled over the banister for a moment longer, the taste of bile heavy on his tongue. From the moment he had been thrown out by Gabriel, the second Raphael's healing had begun, Sam felt as though he would pass out or be sick or some combination of the two. He had kept himself quiet and to the shadows, letting the worry in Dean overshadow the fact that within the span of two hours he had gone from miserable to wishing that he would die. He had tried to keep it in when Cas had stepped out but the second Dean had left the room he had lost it. Sam held himself there, delaying the moment when he was going to have to turn around and face Castiel. The Angel waited, patiently, and finally Sam pushed himself up, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand and turning to face the Angel.
Whatever he had been expecting it was a thousand times worse.
The betrayal in the Angel's eyes was so profound it weakened Sam's knees. It was not simply that he was changing, it was as if by doing it and keeping it a secret, Sam had confirmed Castiel's deepest fear. Sam kept his hand pressed to his mouth as he looked at the Angel, hating himself at the look in his eyes. It was too hurt to just be on behalf of Dean, no, Sam realized that the pain was from Castiel as well. He had hurt the Angel. Sam knew that Castiel was much closer to his brother, in fact, Sam didn't know he was capable of hurting Cas, but it seemed that he was and the self-loathing he felt was crippling.
"Cas--" he began.
"How long have you been hiding this?" Castiel asked.
"I--"
"How long?" The Angel demanded, anger in his tone.
"Since Ruby died," Sam said, "but it only got bad when Michael came here," he looked away before he looked at Castiel, "it didn't get really bad until now."
"You are in trouble," Castiel said, "this is a symptom of your--"
"No!" Sam cut in harshly. Castiel looked at him, "I don't care what it is," he shook his head, "I don't care what I'm supposed to be," he shook his head again, more viciously, "I'm not--I won't be--"
"Sam you cannot deny what is happening to you," Castiel said.
"Yes I can," Sam said looking at the Angel with desperation heavy in his eyes.
"No," Castiel said firmly stepping forward, "you are dying. And if you die, Lucifer will take you," fear shone in the younger Winchester's eyes and Castiel felt guilty but he continued, "its only a matter of time before the Demon Lords come and tempt you," he stepped forward, "you must let us help you."
"Help me?" Sam gasped for air, his chest heaving, "no-one can help me. Look at me! I can't even be around Archangels without being sick."
"I did not say it would be easy. But MIchael and Gabriel know what is at stake. They will help you."
"After what they've done, how can you be so sure?"
"Because Michael was never supposed to take another Vessel," Castiel said, "It is written that you are to be Lucifer's and Michael is to take Dean. Lucifer chose to take another Vessel but that does not change things. But Michael defied the prophecies that have been upheld for hundreds of years--prophecies that he upheld as well--to take another Vessel. Everything has been changed."
"So because Michael took Jo, we're just supposed to trust him?" Sam demanded, "Cas you know what this guy's put us through--what he's put Dean through. How can you be so sure?"
"Because he lied," Castiel said, "I know Michael told Dean that Jo had the potential to be his Vessel but we all know that she was years from achieving that," he looked at the sky before he looked at Sam once more, "he saved Jo for Dean."
Sam looked at Castiel, trying to see if the Angel was lying but he saw nothing to show that. Sam had long known that Dean found Jo far more intriguing and attractive than he would tell another person and he had always thought there was a chance that they would eventually be something together but he hadn't thought it was obvious to anyone else. But apparently it had been clear to a few others. Sam leaned against the banister, bowing his head as he inhaled sharply, trying to fight the nausea that seemed to swell out of nowhere. He raised his eyes to lock with Castiel, the one Angel he knew he'd always trust for what he had done for them. If Castiel was willing to trust Michael and Gabriel, then he was going to have to go on that.
"What do I have to do?" he asked.
"She's dying."
Dean stared at the Archangel who blocked him the moment he entered the room, stepping in between him and the rest of the room. No matter how he craned his neck, how he tried to see the bed, he found it impossible. Gabriel glared at him, obviously torn between loyalty to Michael and the certainty of what a shit plan this was. All Dean could see was Jo's leather clad legs and Raphael's sloped back as he bent over her. He could feel the power in the room, power that seemed to be stifling in the room. But all of that was secondary to the figure on the bed. The unconscious girl on the bed who seemed more like the plant for a 'To Catch a Predator' spot than the woman he had come to understand was a lot tougher than he had previously given her credit for.
"Dying?" Dean demanded, "she was already dying."
"Yeah, well, now she's dying more," he said, "and we're gonna need your help to keep her alive."
"Me?" Dean looked at her legs and then at the Archangel, "what the hell can I do?"
"How the fuck should I know?" Gabriel demanded, "you're the one who knows this chick, you figure it out," he stepped aside.
Dean crossed the room instantly, stopping at the foot of the bed. Gabriel had warned him but somehow it was impossible to be prepared for what he saw. Jo was frighteningly pale. There was no color, not on her face, not on the skin of her stomach, not even on her lips. Her blond hair was matted and lanky, the shortened locks only making her look worse. Her chest rose and fell erratically and Dean would have bet his last knife that her heartbeat was unsteady too. The lines on her stomach and throat were red and angry, far more stark than when Michael had in habited her body. Dean had never thought he'd be grateful to the Archangel but watching her look like that, it was enough to make him do anything to bring the Archangel back and put him in her body again.
Dean had only really ever been good at comforting one person when they were sick: Sammy. In later years Dean would think it was more because Sam idolized him practically from birth and was desperate to show he was strong to his brother than any actual skill at comforting on Dean's part. But he hadn't been much of a help when Castiel's faith had been shaken, nor when his father had been dying--what good could he possibly be to the woman laying on the bed. She looked so small and ill, so unlike the vivacious young woman who had charged the Hell Hounds with a shotgun to save his ass and then decided if she was going to die she was going to take those bitches down with her. To Dean's frazzled mind it was almost impossible to associate the two people together, as if they were completely separated now.
"I thought you were supposed to be this great healer," Dean said looking at Raphael angrily.
"I am," Raphael said, his tone dripping with disdain, "I am also smart enough to know that choosing a dying Vessel is a very poor choice."
"Now you see why I left Heaven?" Gabriel said crossing his arms, "its because then I didn't have to deal with pricks like him."
"Would you two both shut up?" Dean demanded, immediately regretting speaking to the Archangel at all.
"Talk to her," Raphael said finally, "there is only so much I can do with raw power."
"Talk to her?" Dean repeated, "what is this, Lifetime?" he looked down at her, "or did I just drop into some twisted sort of disney movie?"
"Look, bud, I'm all for some good sexual tension," Gabriel said, "but how about we do it after the Princess wakes up," Dean's eyes flashed dangerous, "what? You ask, I comment."
"Don't do that," Dean said.
"Ha!" Gabriel laughed, "he really does sound like Michael doesn't he?"
"Don't do that either," Dean said automatically.
"Aww are you're--"
"Gabriel!" Raphael cut him off, turning over his shoulder to glare at him in an uncharacteristic show of anger and defiance, "if you wish for Michael to have a Vessel upon his return, be quiet."
Gabriel glared but ultimately kept his mouth shut. Dean looked down at Jo's still features and tried not to feel nauseous. It was just plain weird to see her laying there like that, so still and so injured. It was one thing to see her dying when the world was practically ending all around them, when they were racing against the clock to save the lives of all those people. But now, with the race at a much slower pace, Dean realized just how terrible it was to watch her slowly die. Now though, now that he knew what it was like to see the light in her eyes gloss over, to watch as she struggled to cling to life just long enough to do some serious ass kicking--now it was much worse.
Worse still were the questions.
Questions like what had drove her to lean into the impulsive kiss on her forehead? What on earth possessed her to charge after him in the first place? Why, in the name of a God he wasn't sure he completely believed in, did she kiss him back when he had leaned forward? Questions that he couldn't ask because she wasn't anywhere near awake. Slowly Dean lowered himself until he leaned against the bedside table of the motel, the wood groaning against his weight. He crossed his arms over his chest as he looked down at the girl on the bed before he immediately uncrossed them and stuffed his hands in his pockets. He could shout at the two Archangels until he was blue in the face but somehow he couldn't find the words to say to the blond girl laying on the bed.
"Damn it," he swore under his breath, glaring as the two Archangel's raised their eyebrows at his poor opening line, "Jo," he sighed looking at her, "I know you're in a lot of pain--" Gabriel made a sound, "look I'm trying here," Dean said angrily.
"Yeah, well, try harder because right now you're kind of sucking," Gabriel said, "say something nice to the pretty girl."
Dean looked down at Jo.
"Alright look," Dean said finally bending down until he was closer to her, "I know this blows, especially with these two here," he looked at the two of them.
"Hey!" Gabriel objected loudly.
"But," Dean continued, "if you give up it's gonna blow a hell of a lot more," he looked down at her, "I know you can fight and I know right now you're probably thinking you can't but, damn it, you can and that's what you gotta do," he shook his head, "way I see it, these two cocky sons of bitches are waiting for you to die. I know how much you love to prove people wrong so how 'bout it?" she didn't reply, "come on, after all the shit we've been through you can't tell me rubbing their noses in you surviving doesn't sound good."
Jo made no move, no sound, no acknowledgement of being aware of anything going on around her. She just lay there, still and cold. Dean looked up at Raphael's face. The Archangel was continuing to heal, his hands moving up and down her body continuously in the same manner he had been. Dean couldn't see any difference in his healing. He looked back at Jo, trying to figure out what the hell he was supposed to say next when Raphael spoke.
"It is alright," he said, "she is accepting my healing more," he glance at Dean, "it seems she would like to rub our noses in her survival."
And, for the first time since he'd watched her die, Dean really felt like smiling.
A smile that would have been much easier to maintain if not for the look of confusion and surprise on the faces of the two Archangels. Dean glanced to the window as the bright headlight that burned for a moment before it died as the vehicle was turned off. From the sound and glare, he'd bet it was a motorcycle. Raphael looked at Gabriel who walked over to the window and pulled the blinds apart, glancing through the slats to the figure on the other side of the window. Swearing angrily, he let the gap close and turned around, walking over to the bed where Jo was laying.
Before he could talk, there was a knock at the door. From the low voices on the other side he could tell Jo and Castiel were talking to whoever their visitor was but they weren't having any of it. The pounding came again, harder this time, angrier. Gabriel gritted his teeth before he strode over to the door and yanked it open to reveal the rider of the motorcycle. Tall and clad in leather, he moved forward with an eerie sort of grace that transcended even the faceless helmet he wore. Quickly he walked into the room, closing the door behind him. With a gloved hand he opened the blinds and looked through.
Seemingly satisfied he undid the straps of his helmet and pulled it off. The features underneath were, at the very least, handsome if not outright beautiful. Obviously asian, his black hair was long enough to be pulled back off his features. However when he looked at the other four people in the room, his eyes were a shocking shade of blue, almost electric and they seemed to glow brightly. Instantly the power in the room seemed to increase, a dead give away that the man who had just joined them was anything but human. Gabriel looked between the two of them but Raphael just looked at Jo, distancing himself from the newcomer.
"So," Gabriel said, "what the fuck are you doing here?" he sized the newcomer up, "did Michael send you?"
"No," he said, his voice holding no trace of an accent, just the same formality that the other Archangels save for Gabriel seemed to use, "he did not," he looked over at the window again before he looked at Gabriel, "I heard rumors and I came to see--to help."
"You want to help?" Gabriel demanded, "where were you when this shit was going down huh?"
"I was not involved," he said meeting Gabriel's eyes without so much as an ounce of hesitance, "I prefer not to be involved with every squabble that seems to occur in our family," he glanced at Raphael pointedly before his eyes found Jo, "so, the rumors are true."
"Yeah," Gabriel said, "Michael's got a new Vessel. What are you going to do now?"
"I followed Michael to Hell once," came the reply, "I will do so again."
Gabriel nodded and suddenly the piercing electric blue eyes of the man found him. His eyes widened in surprise and Dean realized that he had been hidden from the man. His fingers tightened on the strap of the helmet as he stared at Dean, clearly knowing with the Winchester was. His eyes went to Gabriel finally, one eyebrow arching in a look of clear surprise. However acceptance quickly followed and he moved across the room to where Dean was standing.
"Hi," Dean said slowly, "so, which Dwarf are you?"
"Selaphiel," he said after a moment's pause, "I am Selaphiel."
"Man," Dean shook his head, "you need a nickname."
Blankly the Archangel looked at Raphael and Gabriel who shrugged but didn't deny the fact that while Raphael, Gabriel and Michael were common names, Selaphiel was anything but.
"Eli," Gabriel said, "he can be Eli."
"If you feel the need," Selaphiel replied. He looked at the three of them expectantly, "what can I do assist?"
"You can start by telling me what's going on with the other Archangels," Gabriel said, "I'm out of the loop, remember?"
Across the street, hidden by the night, a second rider looked at the bike parked outside the motel. Dressed all in black, the figure was distinctly female and dressed identically to Selaphiel. For a moment she waited, shrouded in the darkness, her motorcycle purring in anticipation of the ride, seemingly torn between going into the motel and driving off. Her gloved fingers tightened on the bike, gripping it with all her strength. Angrily she shook her head, seemingly frustrated with her own inability to move before she jerked her hand, the bike roaring to life and speeding down the road. The motel faded as she drove into the night, her destination etched into her mind.
It was early morning by the time she reached her destination, the barren landscape long ago having given way to the city she found herself in. Swinging off the motorcycle she locked up the bike and undid the clasp of her helmet, pulling it off and shaking her hair free. She walked into the building, the fact it was so early seeming to make no difference to the doorman who opened the glass barrier with a smile. Nor did it seem to make a difference to the receptionist who smiled at her as if it was noon.
"Good morning Miss Kiro," she said, "Miss Mereno is expecting you. Please, follow me."
She gave a curt nod, unable to voice words past the anger in her throat. The woman led her through another doorway to the elevator. Stepping inside, she pressed the button for the top floor and waited patiently as the doors closed. The elevator took them up, nauseatingly happy and relaxing music playing through their ears. The doors slid open finally to reveal a spacious office that took up most of the floor they were on. Standing in front of the desk, waiting patiently, was another woman. She smiled, the gesture genuinely warm, and crossed the carpeted floor.
"Thank you for coming," she said, "I take it you saw him."
"Yeah, I saw him," she replied, the fingers on her helmet tightening against the padded interior, "two days ago my brother was comatoase, the doctors told me that even if he did wake up and was something other than a vegetable he'd be blind--they had to remove his eyes!"
"I know--"
"No, you don't. Because then, two days ago, I woke up to an empty bed and your phone call. I found him last night, on his bike, pulling into some shit motel that had two thugs standing outside the door!"
"I know," the woman said sympathetically, "and I know how traumatizing this must be for you--" she placed a finger against the other's angrily parted lips, "shh, shh, shh," she whispered, "don't be afraid, everything is going to be alright."
A moment later the woman turned around, the motorcycle rider collapsing boneless to the ground. The woman sighed, rolling her head from side to side before she walked forward to the desk, her hips swaying with the movement. She reached out, running a finger across the chair she passed, then the table beside it, the lamp--everything. She caressed each object that she touched, as if by reminding herself what she owned she derived some sort of pleasure from it. With a soft, heavy sigh she slid her hand across the wood of the desk until she reached her chair. Placing herself in it she turned towards the floor to ceiling windows and looked out at the sunrise. Reaching behind her she found the telephone on the desk and lifted the receiver towards her as the buttons on the device punched themselves.
"Yes, good morning to you too," she said, "would you please tell Mr. Ammon that he has an urgent call?" she paused, "from who?" she smiled, "from Miss Leviathan," she crossed her legs, "yes, please tell him that I've found some old friends of ours, friends we are simply dying to meet again."
Okay and we've got a new Archangel and the first of the Demon Lords!
Next time there's gonna be a bit more Jo/Dean but Michael WILL be back. And he will be awesome. Also we'll deal with more of this Demonic thing and what was really going on in heaven. Also soon we'll be back to a few characters as job's are given out and they take a "divide and conquer approach"
Please review!