Castiel's hand paused mid-air. "Not here," he told them. "If Hel really doesn't know about me, then we should get him back to the house before I do this."
"Let's go then," Gibbs said as he moved to stand, lifting Tony with the help of Dean and Sam.
"Go open the back door, Sam," Dean ordered. The younger brother complied, and Gibbs made his way to the car, handing Tony to Dean so that he could slide into the back seat before Dean could hand Tony back to him. "Here," Dean handed the keys to Sam, "Drive," he told him before slipping into the back seat as well.
Sam furrowed his brow for just a moment before getting into the driver seat. It was a rarity, indeed, for Dean to hand the keys over. As all members secured themselves into the car and Sam started up the engine, he was for sure why Dean had. It was hard to see Tony this way. It was hard to see anyone this way. But the Winchesters had grown close to Tony in this short time they'd known him. The guy was awesome; there was no doubting that. And Gibbs...well, seeing the state he was in at the moment was near heartbreaking. As stoic as the man had always seemed to be, they could tell that this was causing him immense pain.
In fact, it was possible that Gibbs was also in physical pain. He had, after all, been in that same car when it wrecked. There was really no telling at this point whether or not all that blood on him was solely from Tony.
"Sir, were you hurt in the accident?" Sam asked, glancing at him in the rear view mirror.
"I'm fine," he replied too quickly. "Someone call McGee; tell him to get everyone down to the basement. There's no need for them to see Tony this way. And tell him to call Vance and have him set up a tow to get Tony's car brought back to my place. He's gonna need to cover up this accident somehow..."
"I'll call him," Dean said as he fished out his phone.
11 00 11 00 11
"Okay, I can see you. You see me?" McGee said as he waved a hand in front of the webcam lens on his laptop.
"I can see you," Kate smiled on the screen.
"Great. Looks like we're good to go then."
Ziva appeared beside Kate in that moment, "McGee, is Castiel with you? He left abruptly without saying much. Only that he was needed."
McGee furrowed his brow, "No, he's not here... But Dean and Sam turned around in the driveway and took off. Maybe he went to help them? Come to think of it...Gibbs and Tony should be back by now..." His cell rang, as if on cue. He turned from the screen to answer it. "McGee."
"Tim, we need you to get everyone down to the basement," Dean's voice sounded from the other line.
"Okay," he stood, "Honestly, I think I'm the only one not downstairs. Is uh...is Castiel with you? Ziva said he left-"
"Yeah, he is. Listen, Tim," McGee could sense a nervousness in the man's voice as he spoke, "Gibbs wants you to call Vance." He explained what needed to be done and gave the intersection where the accident took place.
"Wait...they wrecked? Are they- is everyone okay?"
"Just make the call...we'll be there soon," the call ended.
"McGee!" Ziva's voice sounded from the computer and Tim rushed over to it. "What happened? Who wrecked?"
"Tony and Gibbs," he replied. "But they didn't give me any details. Castiel is with them, so they must be okay, right?" his eyes shifted around, nervously. "I've gotta make a call...hold on," he stood and dialed Director Vance's cell number.
11 00 11 00 11
McGee had just ended the call with Vance when he saw the Impala's headlights pull into the driveway. Granted, that's all he could see through the frosted living room window. He made his way to the front door and opened it to verify. What he saw shocked him, to say the least. Gibbs and Dean were carrying Tony's bloody and battered body from the car. Sam made it to the door first.
"Is he...?"
"It's gonna be okay," Sam assured him. "Come on, let's give them some room," he led him away from the door toward the living room.
"You weren't supposed to be up here to see this, Tim," Gibbs said as they came into the house. Sam closed the door behind them.
"I was...on the phone with Vance..." Tim stumbled over his words as he looked at the lifeless body of his partner.
"Cas, can ya get on with it, already?" Dean insisted as Gibbs lowered to the floor, still holding onto his agent. Castiel moved beside them and reached his fingers to Tony's forehead.
Tony sucked in a deep breath immediately as he sprung to a sitting position. He looked around the room in confusion; eyes finally landing on Gibbs, "How'd we get here?"
"A car," he answered, simply, as he helped him to stand.
"Castiel?" Tony turned to the angel. "Thank you...but you should get back to Kate now. I don't know what Hel has planned for her..." he didn't need to say anymore as the angel vanished before them.
"Are..." McGee started, "Tony, are you okay?"
Tony furrowed a brow, then grinned, "Well yeah, Probie. I'm fine," he looked down at himself. His clothes were in shreds and soaked in his own blood. He considered this for a moment. "Guess I should change," he looked up with a smirk. "Maybe take a shower," he looked over at Gibbs, "Not necessarily in that order." He appraised his boss's state; his own clothes covered in blood, as well as his arms and hands. "You okay, boss?"
Gibbs nodded slightly, before his face took on a green tint and he took off toward the trashcan nearest them in the kitchen. As he heaved what little was in his stomach, Tony shared a nervous glance with the Winchesters and then McGee. Then he turned back to Gibbs and took the few steps toward him to put a hand on his shoulder, "Boss?"
"I'm fine," he said as he spit into the can.
"Should we get Cas back here?"
"I said I'm fine, DiNozzo," he stood and looked at him. "Ducky can take a look at me, if it makes ya feel better. Otherwise, I'll live." He grimaced as he looked Tony over again; reminded by the blood, how they'd lost him not long ago. "Go clean up. And don't use up all the hot water; I've gotta take one after you."
11 00 11 00 11
Ziva and Kate sat side by side on Tony's couch, staring at the screen that had just shown the frightening display with Tony. Though Ziva had witnessed Tim being brought back after having been torn apart by Fenrir not so long ago, seeing Tony that way had been unnerving, to say the least. But Kate was the first one to speak.
"So that guy really is an angel..."
"Yes," Ziva replied.
"And Tony... h-he was dead, before he..."
"It would seem so, yes," she replied.
"He was dead," Castiel's voice only slightly startled them at this point. He was standing in the doorway to the kitchen.
"How?" Kate asked him.
"It seemed that Hel caused them to crash their vehicle," he explained as he walked into the room and took a seat in the armchair across from the couch.
"I don't understand," Kate shook her head, "Why try and kill just Tony? Why bring me back? It doesn't make any sense."
"From what Agent Gibbs told me, it would seem that she was trying to force a deal. She would bring him back, in exchange for allowing her to stay. At this point, we have to assume she is unaware of my presence. As well, she seems to no longer be aware of yours."
"What do we do now?" Ziva asked. "Should we not be out trying to find her? She could try this again with someone else."
"Once they have some time to cool down," Castiel said, "I'll return to the house to inquire Gibbs about the specifics of the deal. For now, however, we are uncertain as to how to capture her. And if she's unaware that you're here, Kate, she will most likely not show up in this place to be caught."
11 00 11 00 11
"You seem to be alright, Jethro," Ducky said after giving him a short examination where they sat in the kitchen. "You were lucky to come away with just a bump on the head and a case of nerves," he indicated toward the trashcan with a tip of his head.
"Tony's belt was stuck in the door," he told him. "Looks like he was unlucky all around."
"Not all around," Ducky quirked a brow. "Let's not forget the angel on his shoulder."
Gibbs glanced at Dean who came to sit at the table. "Didn't get a chance to thank you," Gibbs told him. "I'd started to think he really would've left him there."
"Yeah, well," he smirked, "No need to thank me. Sometimes Cas just needs some sense knocked into him. Really, we should be apologizing to you. I feel like this is our fault... Us comin' here pretty much put all of you in danger. Just...sucks, and I'm sorry."
Gibbs narrowed his eyes at him, "You comin' here helped us, far as I recall. And if I remember correctly, it was more fate than anything. To think you two have been doin' this kinda thing alone for so long... I don't know how you've managed."
"Don't get me wrong," he let out a small laugh that in no way reached his eyes, "But all that fate and destiny crap, I've never been a big fan. Especially when good people get hurt along the way."
"Don't forget," Ducky chimed in, "You're saving people in the meantime."
"Well, tell me somethin'," Dean leaned forward a bit on the table, "Was it worth losin' Kate, to catch a few bad guys?" Both of the older men blinked a flinch. "Would it have been worth it to lose Tim and Tony in order to get these demon-gods?" Dean stood before either of them could even begin to think of how to respond. He grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair and swung it behind him to pull it on as he turned to exit the kitchen.
"Where are you going?" Sam asked as he nearly bumped into him on the way toward the kitchen.
"Out for a drink."
"There's drink here."
"I just need to go out, Sammy!" he said sternly. "I can go alone, or you can come with me." With that, he headed for the door.
Sam turned briefly to the men in the kitchen, with a raised brow, "He just needs a minute. I'll make sure we're not out long."
Once the front door closed behind the brothers, Tony appeared in the doorway to the kitchen from the hall, "Your answer shoulda been 'yes', boss."
Gibbs and Ducky looked over to the clean and dressed agent. "I think I'll go check in on Timothy and Abigail downstairs," Ducky slipped out of the kitchen as Tony approached the table, not taking his eyes from Gibbs.
"Hunting or not, this is our job," he continued. "This is what we signed up for. All of us. We put our lives on the line every day, to put away the bad guys and save people's lives. And that's exactly why I told you not to make that deal; if she stays, more people die. If my death assures a hundred people live, or that my team stays alive, then hell yes, I choose death, Gibbs." Gibbs' eyes shown with pride for his agent, but his chest ached with a dread he couldn't explain. "Besides," he smirked, "We don't negotiate with terrorists, boss."
Gibbs returned the smirk and shook his head as he stood to go to the fridge and fetch a couple of beers. "Hard not to be a bit selfish, sometimes," he said as he handed one of the bottles to Tony.
Tony accepted it, furrowing his brow as he sank down into one of the chairs. "What?"
"It's one thing to be willing to risk your life to save people," he said as he sat back down and opened his beer. "It's another to watch someone you care about...die, and not really give a rats ass about who the hell did or didn't get saved because of it."
Tony thought for a few moments, back to that warehouse where Tim had been torn apart by Fenrir. Gibbs was right. It was hard to give a damn about why that was necessary; what had to be done to put away the 'bad guy', didn't really seem to be worth losing someone you cared so much about...
He looked up at his boss with a smirk playing on his lips, "You care about me, boss?"
Gibbs reached out and head-slapped him. "That flight through the windshield screw up your memory?" he raised a brow.
"It was probably the impact to the asphalt afterward, actually," he grinned. "But no. It's just...nice to hear it from someone now and then." His eyes shifted, sheepishly, before meeting Gibbs' again, "Go take a shower, boss. Ya look like crap."
11 00 11 00 11
"I can't believe you think walking is a good idea, right now," Sam argued as they made their way around the corner on foot.
"Well, considering Hel has a damn car and she's not afraid to use it, I think it's a helluva lot better idea than driving. There's a little pub right up the street from here. Besides, we got the colt and Ruby's knife from the trunk before we left. I think we're covered. Not to mention, we could use the cardio. We've been cooped up in the house practically the whole time we've been here." Dean's hands burrowed further into his coat pockets as he hurried their pace.
"I'm just sayin'... this is how a lot of horror movies start out."
"Good," Dean scoffed, "I hope the bitch tries somethin'. I'm ready to kill, right now."
Sam decidedly kept his mouth shut for the rest of the fairly short journey to the pub. It only took about ten minutes to get there. The bar was fairly deserted, aside from a few older men seated unceremoniously around the booths; a few at the bar.
"Whatever you have on tap," Dean told the bartender. Sam held up two fingers, indicating he'd have the same.
"Grab a table, Dean. I'll bring them over." Dean nodded before heading over to an unoccupied booth and slipping into the side that faced the bar. Sam joined him moments later, setting both glasses on the table before sitting across from his brother. "What's goin' on, man? Why couldn't we have a beer at the house?"
"I told you, Sam; needed to get out."
"Yeah. Cardio..." Sam took a drink from his glass. "But seriously, Dean. I know that look in your eyes. Something's wrong, and you should talk about it."
Dean downed the beer in one endless chug before setting the empty glass back down on the table. "I don't have a 'look in my eyes'. I just needed to get the hell outta the house, Sammy. Now can I have a few drinks without the third degree?"
Sam sighed and leaned back in the booth. Suddenly, the bartender was there beside the table with a drink in his hand and he set it down in front of Dean. "Lady at the bar wanted me to give this to ya," he said.
"Thanks," Dean nodded and peeked around him to see the luscious young blonde at the bar. "Didn't see her come in," he smirked. He picked up the drink as the girl turned and smiled at him. He raised his brows and smiled back at her before taking a long drink from the glass. "Maybe this night won't be so bad after all," he looked at Sam who simply rolled his eyes. But he couldn't help a smirk at his brother's sudden lifted attitude.
As he finished his drink, Dean's eyes seemed to become a bit unfocused. Sam noticed it right away and grinned. "One beer and one drink, Dean? I think you might be getting soft."
"Shut up," he retorted.
Sam laughed, "Maybe we should head back."
Dean would've protested, but his stomach was starting to hurt. "Yeah, alright." They both stood; Sam leaving a few bills on the table before turning to follow Dean out.
The girl at the bar stood and took Sam's arm, leaning in close to his ear, "You know where to find me, when it's time."
Sam furrowed his brow, shaking the girl from his arm and catching back up with his brother. "Dude, I think that girl might be more smashed than you are right now." He half-expected Dean to retort with some kind of line suggesting he go back and find out for himself. But he didn't say anything. In fact, he was a bit hunched over as they walked. "You okay?"
"Stomach hurts," he said and swallowed. "Think you might've been right; guess I'm gettin' soft."
The hair stood up on the back of Sam's neck as he came to a sudden realization, "How bad, Dean?"
"'M fine, Sammy. Let's just get back-" he stopped mid-sentence and mid-stride, doubling over as he gagged, spewing blood onto the sidewalk.
"Dean!" Sam grabbed his brother around the waist to steady him as he looked about to fall over. "Damnit, Dean, I think that girl..."
"Sonofabitch, it was Hel, wasn't it!" he coughed.
"We need to get you back home," Sam urged him to continue walking as he searched his pockets for his cell. "Crap... I think I left my cell back at the house."
"Perfect," Dean rasped.
"Don't tell me-"
"In the damn car," he nearly toppled to the ground as his stomach heaved and more blood poured from his mouth, spilling onto the walk. "So much for this night turning out better..." he groaned, painfully...
11 00 11 00 11
Tbc...