Title: The Downpour at the End
Chapter 5:A Call to Arms
A/N: Inspired by the 30 Seconds to Mars song… This in fact a call to arms. This is a battle song, brothers and sisters. Gather soldiers. Time to go to war. (Jared Leto speaks directly to my soul and melts with my heart as one!)
***Trigger-Warning***
-Chapter 5: A Call to Arms-
Even though he never considered himself to be a philosopher or thinker, Dean had to admit that water was probably the most awe-inspiring element that had ever been created. A single, silver drop of water, an organism with so little mass, would have had a very interesting and long story to tell, if it had the means to.
Born from a cloud it falls down to Earth, not sure what will happen to it all the way down, not sure what other elements will be awaiting its arrival, and uncertain which will be welcoming and which not. It pours down from the heavens and ends up where the winds blow it. And then it lands in its unknown destination.
Dean felt the spray of the shower washing over his light, chestnut hair, flowing down his face and scalp. He could feel the soft, endless pressure from the beads of water splashing down on him, easing away the physical tension he was feeling. Showers were his form of retreat where he could be naked, free and completely himself. No one could see his face, guess his thoughts or derive is feelings from his expressions and body language. He was one with the steaming water and he was alone, like he preferred to be most of the time; it was calming, relaxing – his own personal kind of therapy.
A drop of water, after reaching its landing spot goes through the cycle of its life; either merging with other larger masses of water, absorbed by plants and humans and sometimes it lands in a spot where nothing and no one can get to it, or where nothing or no one wants it. It was a sad truth, but it did not mean the end of the drop's life. Drops of water were eternal.
No matter where it ended up after falling, it always finds a way back to what it knows, where it once braved into the world, where it was born. Even though it was never precisely the same place it started, it always found a way to start from the beginning.
People drank water and then perspired, the pearls of sweat evaporating. The same went for the drops who's fate were to end up in dams, rivers and oceans or anywhere else - turning into gas causing the drop's now more majestic form to rise back to the sky. And in the heavens the drop would regain its physical form of water after mating and mingling with the other gasses and once again fall to the earth, just the same as always but only a little more acidic and contaminated.
It seemed like an unpredictable life, but the fact was that even though a drop travelled a lot and saw millions of places, did its job as intended, like planned by whomever created them, never being certain of its destination, it always knew that it would somehow, someday end up back in the "safe" haven it knew since its birth.
This was the problem for Dean. This is what he stood thinking about in the shower as streams of languidly flowing water hugged and caressed every inch of his shoulders, torso, the low dip of his arched back and the firm skin of his thighs. The innocent, refreshing taste of the fluid made his lips tingle with delight. The flow of the watery comfort soothed the handprint from Castiel that resided on his shoulder. Since Castiel had returned to the Lair, it had been itching, not irritatingly, but more of an intriguing 'come-hither' kind of itch. It was as if the mark had been trying to tell him something.
Dean's life had been like the drop of water's. He had been born into a life of demons and monsters; fighting them and fighting to get away from them, from that life. No matter how hard he tried, some sick and twisted fate always brought him back to what he was pushed into.
Then there was fire – another element. Not the opposite of water, as most people thought, but a completely different and unique entity on its own. Fire needed three things to start and keep on burning – oxygen, heat and fuel. If any one of these three resources were missing, the fire would not continue burning and eventually be extinguished.
That was how life was supposed to be. That was how Dean wanted life to be. It should have been simple. He should have been born like a normal person, like a normal fire; a marvelous spark igniting into living. He should have lived a normal life, only needing oxygen, heat and sustenance to stay alive. And one day, when the years had become too many and the body had become weak, when oxygen became hard to come by and the body rejected the fuel it needed, the fire would blow out, and life would end; as it was meant to.
Life should have been like that. Like raging fires, taking what it needed in life to stay alive and leaving what wasn't theirs to touch or what was impossible to come by. Life should have been unpredictable. Not for small amounts of time, like in the life of the water drop, but all of the time, like a flame raging in different directions to survive.
Dean pictured it in his head - A beautiful, burnt -orange lick of flames stroking across a lush field of dry wheat consuming the fuel, basking in the heat and moving forwards. Never returning from whence it came. It was alive and the heat and hypnotizing shimmy and waltz of the fire instilled a feeling of admiration for the element in Dean – it was free, it was doing what it wanted and it was not held back by anything unnatural.
Then the flames came across a wide road; stopping at the edge of the field, testing its limits to see if the road was also combustible. It wasn't and Dean felt a jolt of sympathy for it. Was this it? Did things really end like this? Even after all the freedom and happiness?
As if the fire smiled and winked at Dean, the blaze grew from burnt orange to a deep, furious salamander. The fire retreated the slightest bit and with the air of an acrobat, a small ember separated from the huge mass and somersaulted to the other side of the hindering road.
The bigger fire would eventually die out, but at least the new, little fire got to experience a whole new side of the road – of life!
A sudden burst of icy water shook Dean from his deeper than normal thoughts. It felt as if tiny little bullets were connecting with his body, trying to break the skin. It didn't hurt as much as it made Dean jump with a cruel surprise. An almost girly scream fell from his lips, something he would never tell anybody…
But then he heard the last noises of a flushing toilet. Growling to himself he wrapped a towel around his waist and yanked the shower curtain open, only to reveal the sight of Kevin washing his hands in the sink. "What the hell, Kev!"
"Sorry," Kevin said, although he didn't sound as if he meant it.
"Sorry my ass!" Dean snarled, "What are you doing in my bathroom?" and yanked the shower curtain open.
Kevin looked up from the sink and into the mirror on the wall, "Relax, all I did was pee. Besides, Castiel is cleaning up Ion and Crowley in mine. The guest bathroom is still out of order since your temper tantrum from a few weeks back. And I needed to talk to you. Sam… Sam is occupying his."
"Firstly, over-share and secondly, what do you mean 'Sam is occupying his'?" Dean asked.
Kevin swallowed, licking his lips as if he would have preferred Dean hadn't asked.
"I am worried about him, Dean," he confessed begrudgingly. "He's getting worse. He drifts in and out of consciousness, he has horrible nightmares ending in his breathing stopping, he can barely walk any more and he has been vomiting, a lot." He looked up, studying Dean's face carefully through the mirror before continuing, "It's like… this thick mess of blood mixed with black fluid and I don't know what to do, Dean...! Sam's just hitched over the toilet bowl, spilling his guts and I-…!"
Dean stepped out of the shower and walked up behind Kevin, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder.
"I know, Kev…" he mumbled, "I know. Sam's been through a lot, but he's also been through worse. I know you're worried – that we're all worried… For God's sake, he's my little brother and it feels-… it feels like my hands have been chopped off!" He swallowed, choking back the anger that had begun to seep into his voice as he spoke. "I know there's nothing we can do about it now, but you listen to me, okay?" Dean tugged at the young man's shoulder, turning him around to look him straight in the eye. "You take care of my little brother in here, and I promise you I will do whatever I can out there - to save you, to save Sam… to fix this!"
Kevin's breath hitched as he looked down to his feet. Dean felt the boy's wariness and ran his hand through Kevin's messy hair like he use to do to Sam when they were younger, "You got that, Kev?"
Kevin nodded and then abruptly turned around and left the bathroom. For a moment Dean simply stood there; his hand still in the air where it had tried to console Kevin, before it slowly dropped down, as if giving up and landed heavily on the edge of the sink.
It was only then that Dean became aware of the two extremely beaten and tired, viridian eyes looking back at him from his own reflection. He gave himself a stern look, glaring at the face before him as he felt the words leave his lips in a whisper…
"I promise."
Kevin was halfway down the corridor leading to Dean's room when Dean stepped out of the bathroom.
"Kev… Earlier, before I left, you wanted to talk to me? What's up?"
Kevin turned around and to Dean's surprise he had a look that shouted 'Oh Yeah!' and rounded, hurried past Dean into the Winchester's own room. "Mind if we talk in here?"
Dean shrugged, "Yeah, sure."
Inside, after closing the door, Dean went to sit on the edge of his bed while Kevin fumbled around the room, pacing to and fro. It seemed as if he was trying to remember something and the recollection was apparently giving the kid a hard time.
Kevin stopped in his tracks, let out a ragged sigh and folded his arms across his chest. He looked towards Dean and bit his lip. Dean could feel the boy digging through his thoughts, delving into what he wanted to unveil to the Winchester.
"So you remember when Metatron saved me from Crowley…" Kevin started saying.
Dean felt a frown crease his forehead, but nodded nonetheless, listening intently.
"…well, even though him leaving you, finding me and zapping me back seemed like a couple of seconds to you, but… it felt like about 30 minutes to me."
Dean shrugged, "I guess travelling side-saddle with an angel differs from guy to guy?"
"No, that's the thing. I think Metatron took me somewhere else. For what felt like 30 minutes, but it wasn't," Kevin continued trying to explain.
"Okay…" Dean said slowly. "So, where were you? And didn't your mother ever tell you to not go with strangers?"
Kevin ignored him, staying quiet for a few moments and the continued with a dismissive shake of his head, "Where we were doesn't matter, but what we did does. He…touched me."
"Hold it!" Dean gaped, trying to keep himself from laughing out loud. "Touched by an angel? I'm not sure if I wanna hear about this, Kev."
"Shut up, Dean!"Kevin rounded on the Winchester."I am trying to be serious here!"
Dean lifted his arms in defence, palms towards Kevin and rolled his eyes with a chuckle, "I'm sorry, dude, I just had to. Go on."
Kevin glared at him, but sighed and continued nonetheless.
"Anyway, while in this place Metatron, uhm, he sort of inserted…" he sent a stern look at Dean from the corner of his eye, daring him to make another below-the-belt comment. "I mean…he gave me a piece of his Grace."
"Kinky," Dean muttered, eyebrows rising in an impressed arch. "But what does that mean? Are you like, his bitch now or something?"
Kevin ignored the comment again, "It's more complicated, I think... I don't have a 'connection' with him or anything and I haven't heard from him ever since he left, but I can read-…"
"Jesus, Kevin! Are you telling me you were an AP-student and you didn't know how to read?" Dean asked, not knowing if he was joking or being the center of the joke.
"…the Demon Tablet!" Kevin finished dryly and Dean snapped his mouth shut with a faint click of teeth.
"Does that mean that if we bring you the Angel Tablet…?"he asked, the fun and games now firmly pushed aside as his strategic side came into focus.
Kevin scrunched his nose as he looked at Dean, shrugged and scratched his head, "I think so, yeah."
"Then we can use it to stop Naomi! Save Cas and Ion and-…"
"Dean, wait,"Kevin interjected, "We don't even know what the Angel Tablet does exactly."
"Then you are going to have to read it. It's worth a shot- hell, it's our only shot! And with Naomi gone we can focus on trapping ourselves a demon to save Sam."
"Or we could just use Crowley as a sacrifice..." Kevin pointed out acidly.
Dean's hands tightened in a vice like-grip around the towel he was fisting as he closed his eyes and let out an irritated, low breath before speaking words he never thought he'd speak.
"Listen, I wanna get rid of him as much as you do," he said, "but he's got man power that we don't and we could use all the help we can get. To stand up against Abbadon and Naomi, at the same time…! I mean, there ain't exactly a lot of volunteer-hunters around anymore."
Kevin's lips tightened, his jaw clenching.
"So what now?" he grated. "You're going to side up with a demon? That's your plan?"
"Well it's the only thing I can think of." Dean glared back. "It's our best chance. I sure as hell don't like it, but liking and winning don't always go hand in hand. Besides, you heard what Castiel and Sam said… I can't risk it, Kevin…."
The conversation of the previous night rolled in through Dean's head. After Crowley had told them that Abbadon was 'coming', the angels, the demon and the boys sat around the table, against the humans' will of course, but Castiel had sworn that it was necessary.
According to Crowley, he had heard that Abbadon had declared war on earth and was sending her followers to kill all and everything in their way. He wasn't sure as to why, but that could have been anybody's guess and any guess would have probably been right – it was either reign on Earth, the Tablets or the Winchesters. Dean knew it was all of the above.
Crowley was quite adamant to highlight the fact that very soon everything would get messy, messier than he could ever conjure, a catastrophe he would never have tried bringing upon the world. He had also heard that Abbadon had formed an alliance with some other entities and God only knows what they could have been. He spoke about demons far more dangerous than him and Abbadon. Demons that never really did the Hell-thing, sticking to themselves and serving on Earth; think genocide, famine and war, Crowley had told them.
They had to prepare. They had to gather their shit and weapons and do what they had to do to solve the puzzles that were the Tablets. They had to watch each others' backs - because things had changed from humans versus angels and demons, to the Winchester and Co. versus the whole supernatural world. It wasn't about bad or good anymore. It was about saving Earth and banishing those that were never meant to set foot here.
They had to do whatever it took to do all the trials and shut the gates of Hell and possibly use the Angel Tablet to overthrow Naomi and her followers. And that is where arguments started flying… primarily, out of Dean's mouth. Sam had refused to make use of Crowley as the demon to be cured. Castiel and Ion had taken a stance in supporting Sam's wishes. Kevin and Dean were alone. Both of them gobsmacked by what was being said and the thermometer that was Dean had been rising in degrees, past its normal limit.
Dean had burst his lid at what his brother was saying. He had told Sam that Sam was being delusional and that his ideas and perspectives on things were being affected by his current state. He had tried his hardest to make his brother understand that this was their only chance to close Hell and more importantly end Sam's suffering. He wanted nothing more than to see his brother healthy and happy again.
Sam's words had overwhelmed Dean's thoughts. It was as if a tape was playing on repeat in his head.
I am happy, Dean. I feel like crap, but I am happy. For the first time since we have been hunting together I actually have a crucial and efficient purpose to fulfill. I'm not suffering because I just want to show you, my only living family, that I am tough and strong. I am doing it because for once I get to help you save people. For once, I get to support you and help make things easier for you to do your job.
I've been in the way, too many times. I've been causing you nothing but problems and trouble, letting you down. I am done, Dean. I am done being the little brother you could not protect. I want to be the brother that protected you.
Sam had left Dean at a loss for words, but Dean had fumingly retreated back to his room. He had to take some time to think things over and fight his inner demons before facing the demons out there. He felt like a failure, dirt and most of all, like the most unreliable and invalid brother there was. Not once in his life did he want Sam to feel like a 'problem'. Never. If only Sam knew how many times the younger Winchester had been the reason for Dean's rising and re-instilling of the will to live, things would have been better. Sam was the reason that Dean had not yet taken his own life or given up. Sam was all he had. All he ever wanted now that he had come to terms with his life.
He had made a promise that night after the argument that he would respect his brother's wishes, to an extent of course, and do whatever it took to right the world's wrongs – even if it meant breaking all the bones in his own body, have the skin seared off of him or have each and every muscle slowly and excruciatingly ripped from his body. He was going to get them the normal lives they deserved.
It was around brunch that Dean entered the main hall of the Lair to find the angels sitting at the table with Crowley. The demon had been healed almost completely and was now struggling with a piece of old paper. In his hand, the one with all of its fingers still intact, he was brandishing a red pen. He was scribbling at the speed of light and Dean caught site of a faint glow in Castiel and Ion's eyes as they read what Crowley was writing, their luminescent irises shaking fast from left to right.
Dean cleared his throat and sat at the other end of the table. The threesome opposite him had heard his arrival, but none of them had even shifted in their seats to acknowledge his presence or speak to him. Dean cleared his throat again, this time louder and sounding more unnatural than ever, but was cut short by Castiel raising his hand to shut Dean up. Even though it was a normal gesture Dean felt like his authority as host was being undermined.
Feeling annoyed, he reached for a newspaper on the table in front of him and paged to the second and third, revealing what he had been dreading for a while. Electrical storms and bad weather over all was now being reported in every corner of the States. He paged to the international weather and saw every continent was now showing signs of irregular weather patterns – It was fucking snowing in Barbados and 113°F in London.
Even worse was the missing persons' report. Roughly 150 children had gone missing over the entire Americas. In Southern Africa, a whole town was found dead. The South African Government's statement was that after medical inspection no cause of death was confirmed as of yet. The victims were drained of their blood and most of them had their eyes burned out of their skulls. The President of South Africa, a guy whose surname Dean had no idea how to pronounce, stated that terrorism was the countries only conclusion.
Dean could feel the vein in his forehead throbbing with too much blood as he took in what he was reading. His mind was racing and he was terrified of the math his brain just did.
These signs… Eyes burned out of their sockets? Angels? Not all are demon-related… What if? It couldn't be… Naomi would never.
It was not until Dean's shoulder started pulsing with what felt like velvet energy that he realized Castiel was standing next to him, the angel's hand resting on the exact place where Castiel had marked the Winchester.
"It seems like Abbadon and Naomi are on the same warpath, does it not?" Castiel said in a dusty voice, his question supporting Dean's suspicions.
Dean looked up into the angel's oceanic eyes and for some reason he did not feel himself reacting like he would have. The pulsating beam of heat from Castiel's grip was calming him down, washing away the initial taste of anger and hate in him.
"It's impossible…" Dean said, refusing to believe his assumptions.
"What I have come to learn about life, human and supernatural, Dean, is that nothing is quite unlikely. Although they might not be Sisters in Arms, the fact that they are collaborating is not beyond them. As Crowley said, they have a common goal. They want the same thing. And they will work as one until the task has been fulfilled. Thereafter, they will handle each other." Castiel said, readjusting his grip on Dean's shoulder.
Crowley cleared his throat and said, "Castiel is trying to tell you that this is now a game of Survivor. The contestants are forming alliances; they take out the weak first and in the end they turn on each other and screw their 'allies' over. In this case, there won't be any screwing, just Naomi and Abbadon killing you and then trying to kill each other - Lots and lots of blood and guts and lights and 'oohs' and 'ahs'. I guess the two sisters having an apocalyptic round of sex wouldn't be too uninviting, though. Should I get us front row seats, Ion?"
Dean's mind was spinning again but Castiel's voice soothed the confusion, "This is only if our suspicions are true, Dean. Nonetheless, we have to be prepared and constantly aware of our surroundings and enemies' movements. We cannot take any chances. I think our first order of business is to find an enemy demon," Castiel paused,"A demon not under Crowley's control, to cure. We need Sam."
Dean nodded, "But before that, we need to retrieve the Angel Tablet and get Kevin on it. We are going to need the angel voodoo if we're going up against Naomi and the Garrison too."
"Are you bloody mad, boy?" Crowley exclaimed, "That will take months. Do you want to sentence Moose to his death?"
Dean hesitated and made a decision to not relay the truth about Kevin's ability to more easily read the Tablets. He looked at Crowley, closed his eyes and spoke, "Don't act like you care. This is my decision. I am in charge and we're getting the Angel Tablet first. If we find a demon on our way, so be it. But finding a demon while Naomi and Abbadon are at large is suicide. Got that?"
Crowley mumbled under his voice as he rolled up the last piece of paper he was writing on earlier and handed it to Ion. Ion bowed his head to the demon, which made Dean's inside curl up with remorse for the angel. He had no idea how embarrassed and beaten the angel must have felt.
Castiel saw the confused emotion on Dean's face, "Crowley has rewritten the terms of his and Ion's contract. Cancelling the first contract would kill Ion, but altering it seems to be the only option we have. I have read it and all of the negative conditions and demonic terms have been reset and written to suit our needs."
"Our needs?" Dean asked.
"Ion is free to act as he would like, when it comes to being human or 'on earth'. But in order for him to use his now contaminated or compromised Grace, he has to be ordered by Crowley. Crowley is ultimately in charge of Ion's celestial might." Castiel tried to reassure Dean.
Dean's confusion and frustration boiled on and Castiel continued, "Do not worry about it, Dean. I have included myself as a securing third party. If anything might go wrong, if Crowley does not comply with the contract as stipulated, I become the owner of Ion. Otherwise, Ion would die."
Dean's heart sank even deeper than it already had. Castiel, Dean's best friend, had to stand in as the prospective owner of one of the angel's brothers. As if Ion was a slave. And Ion – the poor guy had to be ridiculed liked this. He had to go through this discrimination and unfair treatment, just because of a poor decision, a mistake. It made Dean nauseous; it made him hate demon contracts and deals even further. He hated this even more than he hated torturing the souls when he was in the Pit.
Dean shifted his chair back and broke free from Castiel's grip. He felt himself taking deep breaths, almost losing balance, his eyes closed, and when he opened them again he was sitting outside the Lair.
He could hear the song of birds singing in the surrounding trees. He could see the early rays of sun peeking through the remaining clouds after the storm from the day before. The sight was irritating his eyes as it adjusted to the newborn light. His ears rang with the sounds of beetles vibrating in the distance and every gulp of fresh air made his lungs burn. He felt the heat of the day pressing down on his skin. It was rejuvenating and he wished he had a…
"Thought you might need one of these?" Dean heard Ion say, as he flipped his neck to see the angel standing next to him. Ion was holding out a beer.
Not just any beer. It was Dean's favorite. He put out a hand and took the bottle from the new angel. The bottle was crusted with ice and where the ice was already melting, little drops of water were now forming, inviting the consumer to enjoy the wonderful explosion of frigid taste inside.
With one quick flick of his fingers he removed the cap and brought the cold glass tip up to his lips. The beer flowed out into his mouth as if it knew that it was its only chance at freedom, and the consequences were orgasmic. Dean had never tasted anything so perfect in the moment as this. He opened his eyes after his first sip and nodded in gratitude at Ion as the angel turned around to join the others inside.
"Wait!" Dean called after him, "Where are you going?"
The angel turned to Dean, "I am leaving you to be with your own thoughts. I just assumed you would like your thoughts to be accompanied by something more satisfying than just nature, so I brought you a beer."
Dean's brow furrowed and his eyes dropped to Ion's left hand, "So, what's the other beer for?"
"I like to indulge on a Lager from time to time, Dean Winchester. It soothes the soul, in the loose term of the phrase, I believe." The angel replied.
"Finally, somebody who speaks 'Me'." Dean said, throwing his empty hand into the air as cheerfully as possible, "Like to 'indulge' with another beer connoisseur?"
Ion hesitated but gave in and sat next to Dean, "Who am I to decline?"
They sat there taking swigs from their beers for a few minutes, just staring into the surroundings, barely moving or making a sound. Dean was first to break the silence.
"You drink a lot?" he asked.
The angel shrugged, "I never did. But I learned to enjoy and savor the taste as I grew accustomed to the life with Crowley. I sometimes feel like I should thank him for forcing me to drink so much. I would never have touched alcohol if it wasn't for him. Nothing tastes quite sweeter. His 'little circus monkey angel' he calls me."
Dean almost choked on a sip of beer as he heard what Ion was saying.
"Dude, I'm sorry. It must be hard being his slave?" Dean said, forgetting to put a guard on his tongue.
"It has not been all that bad, Dean Winchester. I have been his employee more than his slave. It is embarrassing and soul-wrenching to be mocked and treated like this by a demon; a weaker being than me. But it was the path I chose. I am a man of honor. If I make a decision or a deal I follow through no matter the outcome or the way I am handled. To be honest, I am in a way grateful that he sometimes uses me, abuses me as a slave, but it is the same as he would treat a human, right?"
Dean shrugged, "I guess?"
"And that is the crux, Dean Winchester. Treatment like that by demons, being a customary practice on humans, made me feel… made me feel human. It is the closest I have ever come."
Dean stopped mid gulp. He realized that Ion was allowing the behavior of Crowley not only due to the contract and deal but by Ion's longing to be human, to feel, to have emotion – even if the only emotion he could have was shame or hurt. The guy wanted to be real. Just to feel human. Just to feel human.
Dean shook his head in understanding, bent forward and rested his elbows on his knees, his beer swinging in his hand between his legs. He stared down into the sand and grass under him and sighed. He lifted his head and stuck out his hand holding the glass bottle towards Ion's. The angel reciprocated and the bottles clinked in unison as the men saluted their lives; their very complicated and mostly unhappy lives.
Dean said, "You're a good guy, Ion." Dean admitted.
"Thank you." The angel returned with a grateful smile.
Another couple of minutes went by between the two, silent as mice. Dean was almost done with his beer and getting a bit restless when Ion spoke again.
"I wish we had more. Those were the last two. You forgot them in the freezer."
"Ha!" Dean laughed, "That's why I couldn't find any in the fridge." Dean shook his head again smiling at the almost empty bottle in his hand, "I wish we had more too, yeah."
Dean stared up into the sky, his left eye squinting as he tried to figure out what time it was by the position of sun.
"May I ask why you feel the need to find the Angel Tablet before you save your brother?" Ion enquired.
"I don't want to take any risks. If Naomi and Abbadon are working together, then finding a demon is going to be hard as fuck. I think it's better to first knock out a few enemies, cover our bases before we tackle our main mission, don't you think?" Dean honestly replied.
"I see. But finding the demon and curing it would close the gates of Hell, leaving only Naomi and the Garrison to worry about. It is the same concept." Ion said sounding wary as to not anger Dean.
Dean didn't answer immediately.
"I need to win the trust of Crowley and his men first. We need them, as much as I hate to say it." Dean answered kicking at a loose rock in front of them.
"That is not all, is it, Dean?"
Hesitantly Dean answered, "The thing is, Ion, I'm not sure what is going to happen to Sam if we finish the last Demon trial. It all seems to have been too easy. What if he dies? I refuse to let him die, even if he dies saving us. He doesn't deserve to sacrifice his life for us. He doesn't deserve death, no matter how honorable. He deserves better."
Silence followed for what seemed like hours.
"You are a good man too, Dean." Ion said without any warning, catching Dean completely off guard.
Dean laughed overdramatically, shaking his head in disbelief as he replied, "What makes you so sure, man?"
"By now it is no secret that Castiel and I have been brothers with the strongest bond there is in the Garrison, for millennia. Both of us have saved each other and stood behind each other since I can remember. You have assumed that Castiel and I speak, constantly?"
"And you speak about me?" Dean asked perplexed.
"Amongst other things. But my point is, Dean, Castiel places you on a pedestal, no, a throne higher than he has put any other being, any other organism, ever. He believes in you like the most religious followers believe in their gods. Even if he says otherwise, he trusts you more than he trusts himself, and sadly more than he trusts our own Father…"
Ion took a sip from his beer.
"…Castiel does not come back to you to feel human like I do with Crowley. He is human when he is with you, Dean. It is when he is with you that he is happiest. It is when he is with you that he feels he has a purpose. He comes back to you because he wants to be there with you. It is when he is with you when he feels loved."
Dean could feel the metaphorical olive stick in his throat as it used to when he was much younger and he was about to cry. He gulped down the last of the beer and washed away the raw emotion that was brought on by Ion's confession.
"What do you mean?" Dean asked, not sure how to respond, but wanting to know more.
Ion smiled into the sky before him, as he took the empty bottles of beer and with a touch of his fingertips made them turn into sand, once again.
"That is for you to discover, Dean Winchester. What I know is limited. I am merely a companion, a man having a beer with a friend, and not an all-seeing Prophet. Just remember, family and friends are a beautiful thing and caring for them is what tightens their bonds, but family and friends are not the only things humans needin life. You need more. You need purpose. You need to be a reason for others. You need to not only be a great man, but you need to be a great man for somebody else too. You need to bind your life's essence to something, someone who will strengthen this bond even further and support your greatness till the true death comes. I ask of you to only do your duties and to never be blind to what lies right in front of you. Trust your instincts. Trust yourself. Because, seeing inside yourself, into your own heart, will open up a whole different universe that you never knew was even there."
And with that Ion got up and left the spot where he and Dean were sitting. Dean, perplexed by what he was just told and slightly tipsy due to the mix of emotions and alcohol, was only knocked out of his trance when he heard the Lair-door slam shut behind him.
The next evening drew near as Dean and Ion were preparing for their trip to where the Angel Tablet was being hidden. The plan was to use a tiny bit of the two angels' Grace to transport Dean and Crowley together with the angels to an island in Norway. Each angel would only transport one person to conserve the Grace that had been so helpful and in almost unlimited supply, but was now slowly being drained by Naomi and the Host. There wasn't much time left, so they had to act quick and use a little of what was left and ensure not being delayed by flights and even worse, demons or enemy angels. Thereafter, whatever was left was to be used in case of an emergency.
"So are you telling me that you left the Angel Tablet in this, this cave called the 'Smallbeard Global Seed Safe' and it's supposed to be safe there? It's supposed to be the safest place on earth?" Dean asked, racking his brain for some kind of knowledge or reason for Castiel and Ion's decisions, while standing in the main hall of the Lair.
Castiel was busying himself by laying out the route they were going to take when they got to the island, while Ion placed 4 angel blades on the table next to him.
"It is called the 'Svalbard Global Seed Vault' and it is the second safest place on earth, known to humankind." Castiel said with no emotion as he plotted the route further.
"So where is the safest place then?" Dean demanded to know, while he loaded the Colt with special bullets Ion had brought him from Crowley's supply. The ammunition was cast out of molten angel blade-steel and could kill most things they came across. But the Colt was not being loaded for Dean, Crowley or the angels. He was making sure that Kevin had something to defend himself with, and even more so, Sammy.
Castiel, seemingly finished with what he was doing, gathered the 4 blades and circled the room passing his fellow men, handing each a blade. Ion accepted his first and bowed his head in gratitude to his brother. Crowley was sitting in the furthest corner regarding the others from a distance, swimming in what seemed to be his sixth glass of whiskey. He took a blade with not so much as a grunt, careful as to not hurt himself with a blade that would have on so many occasions caused his death.
Castiel came to stand in front of Dean. He handed Dean a blade, "Fort Knox is obviously the safest place known to mankind. I chose Svalbard because it is as the name implies, a vault of seeds being stored for conservation of all plant life on this planet. It is however not to be underestimated. It is impenetrable. It was built to be virtually impervious to any disaster, natural or man-made. No earthquake or nuclear attack could damage the facility."
Dean took his blade and stowed it into his jacket where he always kept either his normal knives or Ruby's.
"I get that, Cas. It's a freaking fortress, but it's a fortress to humans. What about demons and angels?"
Castiel breathed a feint sigh of disbelief, "Dean, you have to know by now, that I am not 'stupid' as you would say," Castiel continued shaking his head, "Ask yourself, do you think demons and angels are concerned with the conservation of seeds and plants? No. They are not. Of course, they know the Seed Vault, but it would be the last place they would ever search. Besides, the Seed Vault was started by Cary Fowler, son of Morgan Fowler, who used to be one of the Men of Letters. Naturally, Cary used his father's teachings and knowledge to safeguard the Vault with the same rituals, sigils and spells as the building we are standing in right now. You see, the Men of Letters were involved in things even beyond our knowledge, but luckily for us, Ion, being an angel of research, knew about Svalbard and we stored the Tablet there."
Dean scratched the back of his neck as he tried to ingest all of the information he was just given. He opened his mouth to say something, but he had nothing. He opened it again, only producing something that sounded like 'uh'. He turned around in defeat and busied himself with more of the equipment they were preparing for their trip.
"So, if it's a safe place and no demons or angels know about it, why are we taking all these weapons?" Dean asked with his back to Castiel who had now started clearing away the unneeded stuff lying around the table and floor.
"Svalbard is located on a remote island, called Spitsbergen in the Svalbard archipelago. All of the islands are mountainous and covered with layer upon layer of snow, ice and permafrost." Castiel said.
"Cas, I still don't see the point in shooting and slashing at snow?" Dean replied.
Castiel ignored his idiotic remark and continued, "Dean, where there is ice, there are polar bears. Svalbard happens to be home to about 3000 of them. So, unless you would like to be a bear-snack, I suggest you stop whining and finish up."
Dean felt his tongue click in what happened to be a childish fashion and before he could catch his tongue he heard himself say, "Bossy, little son of a bitch."
"I beg your pardon?" Castiel asked turning to look at Dean again.
Dean jumped and turned at Castiel's sudden question, and like a child being caught doing something bad, his eyes grew to the size of plates.
"I said 'I would have made a frosty, little side of fish' for those bears."
Dean's feet grew heavier and heavier as he moved around the house in the last few minutes before they were supposed to leave for Norway. It was as if he was walking around in concrete shoes that were dipped in lead. He had asked Kevin to meet him in the infirmary where Sam was now being kept under observation – heart monitors, all kinds of wires and an IV-drip to keep him hydrated.
Sam's conditioned had not improved, even though Dean didn't think it would. But what was an upside was that his condition had not gotten worse either. The extra fluids and medication that Ion insisted on "borrowing" from a nearby hospital, had been doing their job to keep Sam stable.
Dean opened the door to the medical ward where Sam was resting and saw that the color of his face had returned almost back to normal, although his eyes were bloodshot and the bags under his eyes were now even worse. He didn't look sick anymore. He looked more like he was malnourished or unfed completely.
The older Winchester also noticed that Sam was being more vocal and him being the only other person except for Dean and Kevin knowing about Kevin being able to read the writing on the Tablets easier, was paying off, because it looked like Sam was giving Kevin the third degree about it all as Sam tried to get all the info he could. It made Dean smile that at least some things were back to normal.
Kevin's relief when he saw Dean was unmistakable. Dean winked at him to acknowledge the gratitude of Kevin for Dean interrupting Sam's game of 20 questions on Tablets. Dean walked over to Sam's bed and sat down.
"You're such a knowledge-whore, Sammy." Dean said, smiling, but trying to look like the condescending, older brother.
"Hey, I can't hunt. I can't walk. I can't even read properly. So, I guess I need Kevin as my walking-talking library." Sam responded, trying to manage a laugh.
Dean looked down to his feet and felt his hands clutch tightly around his knees, "About that, Sammy…"
"Yeah, I know. You guys have to go. Kevin's told me. It's okay. We'll be fine. You really don't have to worry, Dean."
Dean smirked, "Geez, why'd you have to go and make things all goo-goo gaa-gaa? I was just here to give you and Kevin these."
Dean got up and gave Kevin, the Colt with angel-bullets. He then strolled back to Sam and handed his brother, Ruby's knife. He ran his hand through Sam's sweat-dampened hair as a second nature and last gesture before he walked towards the door, and said, "Take care of him, Kev."
"Dean!" Sam called after him.
Dean froze in his tracks listening, only tilting his head slightly, and not making eye contact.
"Be safe…" he heard Sam say.
Dean nodded and reached for the handle of the door. He opened it and before he could take a step he heard Sam speak again, "…pack some vodka for the cold…" Dean smiled and Sam finished off, "…and take care of Cas."
Dean felt the words wash over him as the force of Sam's request strengthened his core, his determination and his promise.
I will, Sammy. I will.
Dean felt the resistance of the shock in his knees as he made contact with the ground beneath him. The fresh smell of the ocean was the first thing that he noticed before he opened his eyes, but there was no time to enjoy the scent as a frosty spray of water came crashing into him from behind. It was like he was concealing himself in a game of hide-and-seek and the seeker had just crept up on him. Chills were immediately making their way down his spine as icy drops accompanied them down the lower dip of his back.
Great. Now he was cold and wet.
He opened his eyes to see the last remnants of the rays of sun settling down behind the horizon for its night's rest, revealing powdery snow everywhere. Dean spun around and regarded the never ending black ocean and the miles of white snow around him. It was a sight he had never seen in his life and in the same breath he wish he hadn't because the surroundings had sparked a fear in him – a fear of the unknown. He was so out of his comfort zone, different setting, different task than normal and Sammy… Sammy wasn't there with him.
Dean's attention and fear was further fueled by the oncoming mist that was now rolling over the snow and ice like a massive wave, devouring everything in its path. The white, translucent cloud was growing more opaque by the second; the white shifting to gray. It was a hypnotizing sight but Dean knew that its looks were just a show to cover the internal disturbance and invitation of insanity. Getting lost in that would mean anyone or anything's end.
Castiel spoke first as Dean turned around again to look at the angel and hear the plan. "Keep your weapons ready. I sense another presence. Not sure what it is."
"What is it, brother?" Ion enquired, unable to read the environment like Castiel was.
"It is not angel or demon-related. But it is not human either. I cannot pinpoint the exact location of them, but I know they are watching us, smelling us and listening to us. We should stay quiet and not attract any attention whatsoever. We all know why we are here. When we get inside, Dean and Ion will retrieve it and Crowley and I will stand guard. Once outside again, we will leave as we discussed." Castiel ordered.
"Let's get a move on then. I hate the cold." Dean said.
"We're heading north, towards the mountains. The Vault is situated inside of the mountain wall. Stay close." Castiel ended the discussion and took the lead heading towards the mountains, the sun lingering on their left hand-side in the last hours of twilight, dusk enveloping them slowly.
Behind Castiel Dean was following close, struggling to see in front of him as the wind and snow blew stronger around them. It became almost impossible, but before he could complain or tell the others about his little dilemma, Castiel turned around and put two fingers to Dean's forehead. Dean stopped dead in his tracks, Crowley and Ion almost tumbling straight into him, but even though the tension might have risen, especially from Crowley, not a word was spoken.
Dean felt the warmth of the angel's double digits on his head as he closed his eyes, waiting for whatever Castiel was doing to him. It was such a peculiar sensation that Dean would never have gotten used to. He could feel every single line in Castiel's fingerprints resonating against the skin and crinkles on his forehead. He thought that if he concentrated long enough he could trace all of the lines on a piece of paper, as if he knew each tiny inch on the angel's body, by heart.
He heard a silent tremor thrumming from Castiel hands and through the lids of his eyes he could see a faint glow of electric blue and white light. And then the light surrounded his eyes. It blinded him even though his eyes were closed, but then he realized that the light, the Grace had physical formed a layer over his eyes. And when Dean opened them, he could see. He could see through the snow and wind. He could see heat. Not like through heat-vision goggles, but it was like his eyes were focusing on warmer things to guide the way. Castiel who stood in front of him was glowing like he used to when he used his mojo, but before Dean could tell him to put away his powers and not get them seen, he realized that it was his eyes. He turned around and the same was happening with Ion and Crowley, though Ion's glow was less bright than Castiel's and Crowley's was almost non-existent. But it was still there and Dean could see.
Dean felt a smile creep up is cheeks and just when he opened his mouth to exclaim his approval and awe, Castiel pressed the same two fingers to Dean's lips, in a vice-like formation, clenching the two pink plumps together. Castiel shook his head, turned around and walked on. Dean dropped his shoulders in disappointment, but carried on after Castiel, the task at hand once again resurfacing in his mind.
It took them about fifteen minutes to reach the entrance to the Vault. The entrance looked like a huge, rectangular metal door, surrounded by more metal and concrete, opening up to a hallway that lead into the mountain. That is what Dean saw from the outside. The entrance pretty much looked like a block of metal and concrete stuck into the sandstone mountain wall. What was cool about it, Dean thought, was that above the door there seemed to be big-ass window, but when he looked closer it appeared to be a mosaic-piece made up of glass and mirrors. And with his new and improved sight, it looked fucking awesome.
Dean was ripped away from his childish reverie by a loud but distant growl – a growl he had never heard before. "Hey, guys," he said scanning the area around them as the others walked up to the door to open it, "I think there's something here, something big, something really big."
"Dean, look deeper. I have told you about the 3000 polar bears, have I not? It seems they were the presence I was sensing. They have been all over. We have passed exactly 40 of them so far."
As Castiel's whispers reached Dean's ears, his vision revealed what he had heard earlier. About 50 meters from them a polar bear was standing on a boulder of ice and snow, sniffing into the wind. Its white fur was tinged with a yellow hue, but its muzzle and paws were scarlet, bloodstained.
Phew, Dean thought trying to make the situation easier, must have had a bite to eat before we dropped in.
Behind him, Castiel was muttering strange words in Enochian, Dean presumed, and a loud click rang from the door. The sound reverberated across the tundra as Dean hurried towards the others, stealing a glance over his shoulder to see if the polar bear had heard. It seemed unphased.
They entered the Vault to reveal an elongated room covered with all sorts of biological and scientific equipment. At the far end of it, the room stretched into a passage way that seemed to never end. Dean turned around, nodded at Castiel and Crowley and took Ion's side. Both of them started off in the direction of the tunnel, but Dean stopped and walked back to Crowley. He grabbed him by the collar and pulled him in close. They were nose to nose, the condensation of Dean's breath blowing heavily into the demon's face.
Dean reached around and pulled Crowley's jacket down to reveal the demon-trap sigil he engraved a couple of days back when the angels brought him to the Lair. With his other hand he retrieved his angel blade from the straps on his legs and brought it up to Crowley's face. But when he spoke, it was to Castiel.
"Cas! Any funny stuff happens with this son of a bitch, you kill him. Got that?" Dean demanded.
Castiel nodded and Dean could feel the gaze of the angels on him. He took the blade and paying no sympathy to Crowley's moans and writhing, he made a destructive cut through the sigil, breaking the trap and setting Crowley free to use his powers. He did this not because he trusted the demon, but because he couldn't leave Castiel alone to fend for two. Cas needed help and this was all Dean could give him.
Dean turned back to Ion after sheathing his blade and the two men strode off down the never-ending tunnel.
"Use your powers freely, Ion, darling!" they heard Crowley order from behind them.
I felt like they were walking forever but they had eventually retrieved the Angel Tablet from one of the largest seed banks in the facility. Dean had immediately walked off towards the endangered species' bank, but Ion had told him that hiding it there would have been too obvious. So Ion and Castiel had decided to hide it in the chamber where the most common plants' seeds were being conserved.
In a container labeled 'Asteraceae: Bellis Perennis' they had found the Tablet in the same condition they had left it. Ion wasted no time in handing the rock to Dean and with little effort Dean had swiveled the Tablet into a rag like a little baby, placed it in a secure bag and stuffed it into his backpack that was inside of his jacket, like a camel-backpack.
"We decided the Daisy-seeds would be the last place anybody would look. Nobody likes Daisies. But Castiel does. He loves the simplicity, the naturalization and accessibility of them in nature. They are wide spread and the first flowers to appear when Spring arrives." Ion admitted.
"Not again, man. You can't get all soppy and romantic on me again after the shit you said the other day. Not today. We're on a mission. A man's mission. No talking flowers and poetry." Dean said.
Ion frowned, and in silence he walked on down the tunnel with Dean.
"By the way, what did you mean when you said that I need to be a reason for others? For who? And what reason should I be?" Dean asked.
"I thought you did not want to speak about that?" Ion said smilingly.
Dean sighed, "Fine. Drop it then."
Ion laughed a silent laugh and shook his head at the contradictive being walking beside him. Dean could feel it. "You will find out soon enough, Dean Winchester. All I wanted you to hear was that you should never close a door that has been opened into a room you were meant to walk into."
"Jesus Christ!" Dean exclaimed as he quickened his pace, "More fucking sonnets and quotes. I can't deal with this."
As he strode ahead of Ion he could see Castiel and Crowley standing next to each other at the entrance looking out into the snow. Never in his life did Dean think he would be on a mission like this, with people that were not hunters, people that were not Sammy. Not even people - angels and demons.
A thunderous noise shocked all four of the men inside of the Vault down to every last bone in their bodies. It was an awful noise, as if a fissure had just been ripped open outside in the snow, by Lucifer himself.
Don't let it be him. Don't let it be Lucifer. Don't let it be Lucifer.
As the four of them peered out into the mist outside they saw nothing. No fissure. No thunder. No demons or angels and thank God, no Lucifer. Dean took a step forward but was abruptly pushed back in line with the others by Castiel.
"Look." Castiel said pointing into the white nothingness.
Dean stared intently at the spot to where Castiel was pointing but not even his upgraded vision could make out anything. It was empty, white and cold. That was all. But before Dean could retort, something caught his eye. The bear he had seen earlier was walking towards him at a very slow pace. It was almost as if the bear was showing off, walking like a show dog, in this case show bear, slowly and elegantly. Its head was held aloft like it owned the ground it was treading on.
Around Dean's polar bear, more bears started appearing, walking with the same royal air as the first. Dean roughly counted 25 of them silently walking towards the entrance.
"Brother, I thought they were all dead?" Ion asked with a voice enclosed in worry and fear.
"Hmm," Castiel thought, "They are not alone. There is something else."
"Wait! Hold up!" Dean said in the softest voice he could, not quite managing though, "What are these things? Don't fucking tell me we are going up against two dozen were-polar bears?"
"Don't be so ignorant, Dean. These are not polar bears at all. It is an illusion. An illusion brought on by creatures thought to be long extinct. If Ion and I are correct, these are Díser, the Elves of the Mist. They are seductresses by heart who use the magic of Seid to cast illusions and lure men to their deaths. They cannot hurt us physically, because that will make them impure. But they can make us lose our minds and kill each other. Or even worse, make us hand over the Angel Tablet to whoever is controlling them." Castiel explained.
"But Brother, she is dead!" Ion said.
A loud, womanly cackle came from beyond the shadows of the polar bears, and the animals halted as they heard it. She was wearing a white dress. She looked like one of those Greek women you always saw in the movies. Her hair was brown and wavy. Her smile pink and innocent, unchanged by the cold. She laughed once again, but this time more feminine and soft, like a mother would to a child who was being adored. She walked pass the bears, stroking through the furs of every one she could reach. And when she came into clear sight, Dean's throat dropped straight into his stomach and he could feel the blood from his toes pump all the way up to his brain, as he froze out of sheer shock.
"Eve…" Castiel said.
"My dear, Castiel, it has been centuries, hasn't it?" she asked in a lovely young voice.
"It has. My information about you states that you are supposed to be dead, sister?" Castiel asked
"Ah! Indeed. Your little human sidekick and his younger brother made sure of that. But as the age-old saying goes, Castiel, 'weeds never wither'." Eve replied, with a grin on her face.
"Naomi and Abbadon have recruited you in their little game too then, I presume?"
"All for one and one for all. Abbadon did pull quite a few tricks out of her sleeve to resurrect me from my induced slumber. Speaking of being induced, killed, I am here to collect. So, without further a due, let us make this quick and painless. Ladies!" Eve said, adding only a little bit of volume to the last word.
All around Eve, bears started transforming into women. Like a mirage vanishing into the snow, the ripples of power started pulsating and dispersing into the unknown revealing beautiful, slender and tall woman with pearly skin, gray eyes and hair that made the snow and ice look dull and dreary. They were naked and swaying in sync with the wind, as if all of them were dancing to the same choreography, the whistling weather playing the melody.
In a burst of snow, Eve disappeared into thin air and the boys were left mesmerized by the elves swinging their hips slowly in the figure eight. With every breath the Díser took and with every upwards motion of their bodies, their breasts would softly lift from their chests and with hypnotizing grace it would fall back down.
Castiel cleared his throat and shook the other men from their sexually frustrated induced stares. "It is the strings around their necks that deliver the magic blow. They lure you with their breasts but the string is what causes the illusions and death. So would you three please desist from gazing at the elves and do as we planned!"
"Got it!" Dean snapped out of his reverie, blushing for some reason, as he heard the temper and disappointment in Castiel's voice.
They started moving together, in a formation with their backs close together, their eyes fixed on the feet and legs of the Díser as to not have to look them in the "eyes". The scene around them resembled that of a Sunday morning church assembly of some or other all-too-religious cult. The boys moved down the "isle" in the middle of the two crowds on either side of them – the Díser dancing like mellow hippies at a very chilled-out show. It made Dean's insides curl up into a hard ball of steel. Why were the Díser not doing anything? What in God's name did this 'Seid-magic' do? Did you have to look at the girls' boobs to be affected?
His questions were answered when he felt a massive blow from his left side. His heads snapped back as the impact knocked the wind from his lungs and stars started forming in front of his vision. It happened so fast but his eyes and body registered everything to happen in frame skips. He felt the blow. He felt his neck snap back and slowly he was falling backwards to the ground. In his periphery he could see Castiel and Crowley. To his left Crowley had driven an angel blade through the throat of a bear. A bear? How? Someone must have checked out the jugs on one of the elves and now the illusions were affecting them all. Jesus.
To Dean's right, Castiel had swiftly kicked a polar bear to the sternum and as it flipped over backward due to the angel's perfect force, Castiel leaped over it in what seemed to be a forward tumble and snapped the neck of the beast.
Above Dean he saw another polar bear fly over him. He winced, expecting claws and teeth to sink into his soft flesh and rip him apart. But as the silhouette of the bear soared over him he realized that it was Ion who had pushed him aside. Ion tackled the bear who jumped for Dean and Dean heard the loud thud on the snow as the fierce merge of angel and animal landed a few feet from him.
Dean rolled to his side, trying to take a huge gulp of air, but his body would not let him – it was not yet ready. Dean could feel his vision deteriorating as it got darker from the corners of his eyes. He could no longer see Castiel or Crowley, but he could still hear them over the horribly nauseating ringing in his ears. He felt helpless.
"Kill the Díser. That is the only sure way of ending the illusions. Killing the bears do nothing." Dean heard Castiel scream.
He saw Ion struggling with the bear the angel had just saved Dean from. Ion was trapped under it, one hand under the bears jaw as it kept the beast's teeth from ripping off the angel's face and the other hand trapped under the bear's right paw.
He started moving towards Ion, still not able to breathe, crawling to help out the friend who had just spared him more time - More time, to save who needed to be saved. Dean was almost in reach of Ion when he felt a foot on his back. It was soft and cold, but the pressure and force of it started increasing and all he could hear was a faint laughter, a woman… Eve.
In front of him he saw Ion react. Ion had flared out his legs under the bear with angel mojo strength and from the growls and roars coming from the bear's mouth, Dean knew that Ion must have broken both the bear's hind legs and possibly split it pelvis in half too. And then Dean's vision darkened entirely. No! No! Not now… I need… I need t-to… to help!
The air filling Dean's lungs felt like sand paper being grinded against raw, bloody skin – painful and torturous. But the pain was good, too. The stars that exploded in his black sight, made his surroundings become clear and he realized he was being dragged by his collar. He struggled to look behind him as he plowed through the snow, but he need not have looked, because the radiating power emitted from the hand behind his neck was familiar and inviting. It was Cas. He could hear Castiel and Crowley shouting as they ran. Dean felt relieved and turned his head back to face the way they came from. Adrenalin shot into his heart and brain for the second time since they left the Vault.
Behind them, Ion was being held in the air by Eve – her hand on his throat and the other wielding something silver. Dean realized the Díser were standing all around them, the golden strands of Seid-string that were around their necks were now constricting Ion, enveloping him from all sides. Dean felt the pang in his heart as he realized what was happening. Ion must have saved him from Eve and ordered them to run. No! Not again. Not this time…
The Winchester kicked hard into the snow, attempting to slow Castiel and Crowley from dragging him to the safe zone they would be flying from again. Castiel swung around as he felt the unwanted resistance.
"Dean! We have to go. Now!" Castiel desperately shouted.
"I… I am n-not leaving… Ion…" Dean said, every syllable hurting his throat and chest.
Castiel stopped dead in his tracks.
"Good God, you idiots are going to get us killed…" Crowley shouted, but was cut short by a deafening screech in the air.
Dean felt the air around him thicken with the same feeling he had felt the first time when he had ran from his own house with Sam in his arms, while his mother was trapped in flames in Sam's nursery. He had felt it the day Sammy had died. He felt it when Bobby died. He had even felt it more when he was staring Death right in the face and spoke to him.
And with that, it happened. The three of them saw Eve thrust upwards and impaling Ion with the angel blade in her possession. Dean felt the force of the angel dying, like a wave of wind after an explosion, as the power of the angel vanished. He had gotten up and was slowly but surely walking towards Eve as she did this. But as he walked he felt another hand rest inside his and pull him back. Castiel.
He stared back into the angel's eyes and was shocked at what he saw. Castiel was crying. Tears, tears Dean had not ever seen before, were now flowing from the deep, gray orbs that were Castiel's eyes. The angel did not look at Dean. He was staring at the scene unraveling in front of them, horrified and broken by the death of one his brothers. And it killed Dean even further in his pit of a soul to see Castiel break like this. To see Castiel lose control over emotions and let go.
The tear running down Castiel's face started glowing. Not like the angel's eyes normally glowed, with the electric blue essence of the angel mojo, but bright orange. Dean realized that it was only a reflection of light as Castiel's eyes widened at something. Dean swung around to look in Eve and the Díser's direction and what they saw was indescribable.
Ion's body was lifting into the air, Eve losing her grasp on him. He floated above them, his legs together and his arms outstretched. It reminded Dean of an angel flying through the sky, like in the children's books he used to read. Ion's body was still all wrapped up in the golden string of the Díser but through the strings and what was visible of Ion's body, Dean saw the angel's skin engulfed with bright orange flames.
Dean felt the grip in his hand, Castiel's, tighten – in fear or in whatever, Dean did not know, but he returned the gesture to reassure Cas that he was there with him. The flames lifted from Ion's body and the flaming silhouette of an angel with his colossal wings spread around him, presented itself in the sky above Ion.
Without warning and with the screams of bloody rage from Eve, the flaming silhouette emitted a ceremonious sound, like the angels' power always did, and with a beautiful white flash it turned sparking blue and was speeding towards Dean and Castiel.
It was speeding towards Dean and Castiel! This time it was Dean who was running. He had gripped tighter onto Castiel's hand and was trying to pull him towards Crowley. They needed to get the fuck out of there before all that happened to them and before Ion's apparently flaming wrath incinerated them! He had promised Sam. He had promised to protect Castiel.
Dean gestured towards Crowley to come closer, so that all of them could be transported back home. But it was too late…
The blue arrow of fire had collided straight into Castiel's chest and then everything around Dean, Castiel, and Crowley went white… Whiter than the snow they were standing in.
The last thing Dean saw, was Ion's vessel… being ripped apart… in every direction by the Díser's golden strings; dying the powdery snow with the awful deep red of blood. And Dean felt his own tears flood down his face as the end of another friend, a brother, was met.
A/N: I am so sorry for that. This 'will be continued' and it will make sense. *cries* He had to die. It's all part of the Plan. Sorry for not posting in like forever. University and life got in the way. But I am back for good. And I plan to have this finished by the end of the year. You can expect about 15 Chapters and an epilogue too. Please enjoy it and feel it with me. Reviews and comments are more than welcome - I actually CRAVE to hear from you. Love x