AN: Okay! I am so, so, so sorry about the insane delay! I'm afraid I don't have anything very long to offer either... I blame school. You know, that stupid place I'm trapped in for ten hours a day, five days a week, that started last Thursday (for me at least)?
Sam stared at his phone in nervous disbelief. He let it ring several times until Gabriel took charge and answered:
"What do you want, Bottom-Feeding Smoke Cloud?"
Dean didn't answer while he enabled the speaker phone. The voice that answered was not his brother, but he recognized it all the same.
"Aren't you dead? God, what's the point of an angel blade these days? Damn, it's good to hear from you, Gabriel."
There was yet another pause. "Dean?" the archangel asked tentatively.
"Yeah?"
"Damn, it's good to hear from you, too," he told the older Winchester. He shouted at the younger one, "He recognized me right off, you ungrateful shit!"
Dean and Castiel could hear accented laughter and indignant squawks in the background. When they identified the third member of the motley crew both were confused.
"Sammy, is that you?"
"Yeah, Dean. Yeah, it's me! Is that... Is that really you?"
"For the most part... at the moment. Is that Balthazar with you?"
"Uh, yeah," he confirmed as if confused himself.
"Always so eager to hear from me, Dean!" the British angel commented, but his smile fell almost immediately. "Believe me, I don't want to be here any more than you want me here."
"Actually, Balthazar..." Dean said quickly, "thanks. ...For the help," he clarified, "which I hope more than assume you're doing?"
"Oh, well, you're welcome, I suppose," Balthazar drawled. "Still," he cleared his throat, "I'm only here for Castiel. So, what the bloody hell have you done to him?"
"He has done nothing at all," Castiel interjected, snatching the phone out of Dean's hand.
"Cassie?" the two angels shouted at the same time.
"Yes." Castiel said shortly. He ignored the questions shrieking through the phone and instead turned to Dean. "You should leave," he suggested more than ordered. "You need to leave," he corrected himself, his tone at once stiff and commanding. He set his expression and locked his jaw to match the tome and put faux-power into his words. Castiel wanted to see Dean leave as much as Dean wanted to be left alone with the demon.
Dean was about to protest when Beelzebub needled him particularly hard through grace shield. He understood why he had to leave, but he didn't have to like it. He was in control for the time being, but that control was not a very stable. Besides that, Beelzebub could hurt him whether he was in control or not. If the two were left alone, there was no telling what he would do. Dean certainly wasn't fit for any more physical abuse, but he knew his mind could still go a few rounds. If Castiel sent him out the door now, Beelzebub would have a field day ripping open his deep reserves of self -hate, -doubt, and -pity, not to mention his trust and family issues. Really, his head was a ticking pipe bomb, and he didn't know why the demon hadn't taken full advantage of it yet.
Still, Beelzebub's not so subtle reminder of his unwanted presence was exactly that – the painful reminder he needed to shelf his own objections and complaints and put the safety of his family first. How could he care so much about the damage Beelzebub would do to him after all the damage he had already done to Castiel? Not to mention, the hell Sam must be going through without knowing if his older brother was alright and living with two wack-a-doo angels. With a solemn nod, Dean turned to leave but not without a desperate look toward Castiel before placing his hand on the doorknob. He was determined to protect his family yet still overwhelmingly afraid for himself.
He had to hand it to Beelzebub – the demon had really instilled the fear of, well, the devil into him.
"You'll be fine," Castiel assured him, easily reading Dean's inner turmoil. The voices on the other end of the phone were silent now. Everyone was eavesdropping.
Dean protested, "But you told me–" he stopped himself and met Castiel's eyes. "But I can't fight him."
Castiel set down the phone and crossed the room quickly. He gripped Dean's shoulder once again to refresh the grace and proceeded to place a soft, quick kiss on Dean's lips. "That should hold for the length of our discussion."
Dean almost let his disappointment show when Castiel pulled away, but he smoothly masked it with discomfort. He didn't want to lead Castiel on or hurt him in the long run, so the only path Dean saw was to hurt him quick and fast before it could accumulate to anything more – however, what he was afraid of accumulating, Dean wasn't sure. Instead, he argued that grace or no grace he shouldn't be trusted to be left alone and especially not outside.
"No," Castiel decided, sharing Dean's thoughts. "It's not safe for you outside." Dean stupidly allowed a bubble of hope to form in his chest, which Beelzebub popped with a particularly sharp pin. Castiel tightly gripped Dean's shoulder, sharing his grace along the way, and dragged Dean into the bathroom instead. He pushed Dean onto the floor in the shower stall and spoke down to him, "You shouldn't be left completely alone with it in a position that might end badly. Stay here."
As the angel locked the door behind him, Dean couldn't help wondering if that little display had two meanings. Beelzebub was happy to offer insanitary suggestions, and Dean couldn't deny that the display had excited him just a bit. What is happening to me? Dean groaned.
When Castiel thought the room was secure, he returned to phone. He disabled the speaker and held it to his ear as he sat on the bed with his eyes trained on the bathroom door.
Gabriel knew is brother was on the other line again without being told, so he joked, "Wow, Cassie, don't you know it woulda been easier to lock him in the closet?"
Sam smacked the archangel particularly hard as Balthazar laughed and Castiel stated, "But there are no closets in this motel room, and the bathroom would be much more comfortable in any case."
All three on the other end rolled their eyes but didn't say anything, so Castiel continued. "Dean is not a prisoner or some untrustworthy fiend."
"Then what was that all about?" Sam asked.
"Just because Dean is currently in control does not mean Beelzebub is completely incapacitated. At this moment, he fights to regain Dean's body. If he were to hear our conversation and strategy, it would all be of wasted effort."
"But now Dean is out of the loop," Sam pointed out.
"It's for the best, Sam," Gabriel assured him. "Dean isn't against us, but he's not exactly with us right now either. So long as Beelzebub is floating around in his head, there's nothing he can do for us."
"So, I'm hunting my own brother now?" Sam groused.
"So dramatic," Balthazar scoffed. "You're not hunting him; you're trying to save him! What is it with you Winchesters and listening?"
"Right?" Gabriel agreed excitedly. "It's like they just don't have ears!"
"Gabriel, I can assure you that Sam and Dean have ears," Castiel stated, standing up again due to the restless feeling his brother's childish behavior always gave him. "Now would you please use your own?"
Sam barked a laugh at the remark, and Gabriel turned a little red with annoyance and embarrassment.
"What would you have us do, dear Castiel?" Balthazar prompted.
Castiel sighed heavily and sank onto the edge of bed again. "I have some ideas, but they're only half-formed. I haven't had much time to think recently."
"It's alright," Gabriel assured him, "we've been taking care of the plagues."
"Yes, the first plague was obviously difficult, but Gabriel and I managed to rein it in after a day or two," Balthazar added.
"In perfect timing for those frogs," Gabriel commented.
"Which I cleared up as quickly as I could," Balthazar finished.
"How did you clean up the first plague?" Castiel asked.
"Incantation and reverse sacrifice," Balthazar said.
Castiel nodded and hummed his understanding, but Sam needed an explanation.
"A reverse sacrifice," Castiel said, "is taking away what has been given. Since I robbed an innocent, young woman of her life to unleash the plague, Gabriel and Balthazar had to give that life back. I imagine they sent thousands of mothers everywhere went into early labor?"
"Yes, we did," Balthazar confirmed. "A beautiful moment it was, really. And on a Thursday no less. You're welcome."
Castiel smiled for a moment before saying, "Thank you," so quietly but with such sincerity that Sam almost missed the tiny phrase. He didn't understand why the day of the week meant so much to Castiel, but it was the lesser important of his questions.
"If you sacrificed one woman," Sam asked, "why did thousands of expectant mothers go into labor?"
Castiel couldn't answer. He stared at his hands and took a deep, calming breath instead. Sensing his balk, Gabriel explained, "You think only one woman was sacrificed to produce all that blood? Sam, all of the water everywhere was replaced with blood."
"But if he only sacrificed one-"
Castiel raised his voice as he spoke over Sam. "I smote thousands in the name of the plague, but it started with Rebecca."
An uncomfortable silence ensued. With his outburst, a rustling came from the bathroom. Castiel spared a glance toward the locked door, but did not move from his seat.
"Have you taken care of the frogs?" Castiel finally asked. He began to pace to rid his thoughts of the horrid memories creeping in.
"Yes," Balthazar answered cheerily. "I knew a trick to round them up; then, I sorted them out. Many became the bottom of food chains in various habitats, but most were placed in strategic locations to combat the next plague early."
"The next plague will be particularly strong," Castiel cautioned.
"Because the first two weren't?" Sam snorted.
"Sam," Castiel stopped moving in frustration, "Beelzebub is known as the Lord of the Flies for a reason. A plague of flies and other such pests will be especially easy for him," Castiel said impatiently.
"There's no way for you to prevent it, Cassie?" Balthazar asked gently.
"No," Castiel said curtly.
"Cassie…" Gabriel waited a beat to ask hesitantly, "what has he done to you?"
Castiel hesitated as well. "Mostly emotional trauma," he finally replied. He listed the methods of torture he'd recently endured as one might a shopping list: "He seems to greatly enjoy digging through my memories and picking apart each one I esteem. He also spent considerable time breaking down my relationships with others. When that bores him, he gives me impossible-to-complete orders so that my grace diminishes by the second. After sparing so much of it to assist Dean's bid for control, I am not sure how much I have left..." Feeling his brothers' gloom through the small phone, Castiel attempted to joke, "I seem to have found a pain worse than being blown apart by archangels," but his try was rewarded with an uneasy snicker from Balthazar, another soft bark from Sam, and a low chuckle from Gabriel. The three did not know what else to say, however, so Castiel returned to the tactical discussion.
"What else are you planning to use against the coming plagues?" he asked almost conversationally as he sat down again.
"Balthazar dropped off an ancient Egyptian fly swatter the other day. We're going to figure out how it works and use that," Gabriel answered quickly.
"Good," Castiel grunted. Now that he was dormant and somewhat relaxed for the first time that week, he was beginning to feel physical pain. His body was not healing ideally due to Beelzebub's offenses against his grace. To his horror and begrudging interest, he would most likely bear many scars. But if the others heard the toll in his voice, they did not mention it. "I'm not sure when the next plague will be. He might unleash it as soon as he regains control, or he might spend time reconditioning Dean into submission. Most likely, he will refresh his assault of me to get to Dean..." Castiel trailed off, afraid of his own implications.
"Just tell us what to do, Cas," Sam said. His voice was taught with nerves, and Castiel felt responsible for it.
"I don't think there's anything you can do," Castiel admitted. "Gabriel, you're the only one among us who has encountered Beelzebub in the past. What are his weaknesses? How is he exorcised?"
"If I knew, I would share," Gabriel sighed. His voice sounded defeated, yet his sigh was agitated. The archangel was placing an enormous amount of blame on his own shoulders. A small portion of his brain told him that he didn't deserve the weight, but his heart was convinced that he did.
"Well, then," Balthazar exclaimed. "Still as useless as ever!"
"Alright, what is your problem?" Gabriel asked angrily. "What do you have–"
"Stop fighting!" Castiel ordered menacingly. "We do not have time for this!" His voice rose as he went on, driven by frustration, pain, and wrath. "A man is dying! Yet all you think of are your petty rivalries. Do you not care about Dean at all?"
Gabriel and Balthazar were shocked into silence. Sam's jaw tightened as his worst fear was confirmed. Castiel simply seethed and tried to control his breathing as he waited for a response.
Finally, after a long, tense silence, Sam said, "I... I think I might actually have an idea. So, get this - if we..."
AN: I promise I will have a better chapter up next time. Just a warning, there's going to be a short time jump in it...