Game Plan
Castiel, Crowley and their small entourage of Angels got back to Crowley's Casino when the sun was just rising towards it's apex at midday. They were covered in sand, dried, black blood and various grime, their clothing torn and ripped to near tatters. The Demon guards at the Casino's entrance raised their eyebrows at their appearance.
"Is everything in order, Sir?", one of them queried as the reached the door. Crowley smiled stiffly and gave the Demon a brief clap on the shoulder as they passed.
"Peachy," he said, his voice dry. "Please inform the staff that I will be needing some new attire. And a bath. And some food...", he paused, his brow wrinkling in thought. "And now that I think of it, get me that little weasel Jy-shiaj. I need some information. Bring him to my meeting room at dusk, no later. We need to get this show on the road before nightfall."
The Demon frowned. "Nightfall, Sir? What happens at nightfall?"
Crowley cast a look back over his shoulder at Castiel, who met his eyes and frowned in question.
"Bad things, very bad things," Crowley grumbled in reply. "If I were you, I'd pack a bag and head out of the city." Crowley's voice raised at the last, so that the other guards could hear as well. Their eyes widened and a few of them exchanged knowing glances, a couple nodded to each other.
"We'll...get right on that, Sir," the Demon replied. Crowley smiled and nodded, patting the guard's shoulder quickly twice more before moving inside. Castiel glanced left and right at the guards and his brow furrowed. But he continued into the Casino, following Crowley.
When they had reached the living suites, Castiel removed his torn and bloodied trenchcoat and fell heavily into a padded chair with a groan. He rubbed between his eyes with two fingers, head down. Crowley leaned on an ornate mahogany table, on which a few books were stacked, and a chess-like Atlantian gameboard. Crowley had attempted to learn the game, but it was absolutely nothing like chess, so he had lost interest almost from the start. The strategies involved were too straight-forward for him. It involved maneuvering more powerful pieces into position before attacking. There were no hidden moves, no trickery. Not his game. But the figure carvings were very, very nice.
"Crowley," Castiel said from the chair, breaking Crowley from his reverie. He looked up from the table, and saw Castiel regarding him with those steel-blue eyes questioningly. He frowned.
"Yes, Castiel?" he replied, returning the gaze and masking any emotion. The Angel looked like he had something on his mind.
"What was all that back there?", Castiel asked, his eyes flicking back to the Casino's entrance.
Crowley frowned, feigning ignorance. "What was all what back where?", he asked cautiously.
Castiel stood up and walked a few paces towards him. "Stop, Crowley, just...stop. I'm in no mood for games."
Crowley narrowed his eyes. "Castiel, I really have no idea what you're talking..."
Castiel looked down at the table and...smiled. Crowley actually felt a chill go through his spine. It was devoid of any emotion, that smile. The Angel was very, very serious about something, and looked to be completely out of patience. Crowley braced himself as Castiel looked back up, his eyes red-rimmed and weary, but blazing with a promise of impending violence. Crowley gulped.
"The guards, Crowley. What did you just have them do?"
Crowley cocked his head to the side, considering.
"Guards, Castiel? Why would you think...?"
Castiel growled and took several swift and dangerous steps towards Crowley, who took a few defensive steps backwards and found himself flat up against a bookcase.
"Crowley, how long have we worked together? Did you really think I wouldn't know when you were plotting something? That was a message that you just gave them," Castiel said, voice low and dangerous. "What did you tell them to do? And I would not suggest lying to me again."
Crowley dropped the ignorance mask and his face became stoic, calm. He considered the Angel for a few seconds, seemingly deciding something.
"Fine, Castiel," he finally said. "Well done. Yes, that was a command."
Castiel nodded, his shoulders relaxing a bit. "What was it?"
"What do you think it was, Castiel?", Crowley answered, practically hissing.
Castiel's posture shifted. He looked back at Crowley, his anger coming back. "I'm asking you..." he began, taking a step towards Crowley.
"Uh-uh, Castiel, that's not how this works right now. You say that you can read me like a book? Well, you're going to have to earn that. Full marks for seeing through the code, bravo, but if you want to play in the big-leagues, then you need to get a lot more insightful. You can't just bully the secrets out of everyone."
Castiel's eyes burned with increasing frustration. "Why not?", he snarled. "It works for you, doesn't it?"
Crowley shook his head slowly. "Oh, no, Castiel, you have got that all wrong. Torture is a horrible means of obtaining information." He walked away from the book case to stand on the other side of the table from Castiel, who followed his movements, body straight, only his head turning. "Truth is, inflict enough pain, and people will say anything to make it stop, whether it's the truth or not doesn't even matter anymore." He met Castiel's eyes and gave him a full smile. "No, what I do, I do for fun, Castiel. Now, once again, what do you think it meant?"
Castiel placed his hands on the table and glared at Crowley for a few seconds. Finally, he broke the eye contact and let out a frustrated breath.
"Fine. Don't tell me, I can find out myself." He paced away a few steps and stared back into the hall. He watched the Demon servants movements for a few minutes and then turned back to Crowley, who was still watching Castiel intently.
"You told them to get out of Atlantis," Castiel said slowly.
Crowley nodded, eyes glittering.
Castiel nodded to himself. "And you said something bad was going to happen at nightfall. I assume you were referring to Gabriel's plan to seal the breach."
Crowley nodded again.
Castiel paced back and forth a few times. He slowed and turned slowly back to Crowley.
"Gabriel never told us how he was going to do it. You're assuming..."
Crowley raised his eyebrows. "Go on, choir-boy, you're almost there."
Castiel looked towards the ceiling. "Gabriel's going to flood the city," he said simply.
"Bingo," Crowley replied. "You told me yourself, Castiel, there's no escaping that. It's too big of an event. So..."
"...so you wanted to be prepared for that eventuality," Castiel said, his head turning slowly back to Crowley. "You took precautions..."
Crowley began to smile, genuinely this time.
"...to protect your money that you earned here...", Castiel finished. He groaned, wiping a hand slowly over his face. He looked back at Crowley incredulously. "Is that it?", he asked, his voice raised. "All of that deception to try to save your...what?! Your treasure?!"
Crowley gave Castiel an unapologetic shrug. "I told you already, Castiel, that I wanted to protect my investment here...flood or no flood. There's a ship leaving the main Atlantis port for India, or what in this time-period passes for India, and on it will be several unbreakable, and might I also mention, large sarcophagi with a fortune in gold and jewels in each one, to be locked away until yours truly goes to collect it seven million years from now. Now, answer me, was that so hard to puzzle out?"
Castiel shook his head in disbelief. "All of that for money?", he asked, slumping back into his chair.
Crowley watched him and cocked his head. "It helps to always understand your opponent's motivations, Castiel. Me? I am quite often a very simple creature." Castiel shot him a withering look. Crowley smiled back. "But I got something else out of this, too."
Castiel frowned, puzzled. "What's that?", he asked.
"I got to teach you about anticipating and reading an adversary. I'll make a proper cohort out of you yet, Castiel," Crowley said, grinning. Castiel narrowed his eyes and shook his head.
"Speaking of reading your opponent," Crowley continued, unperturbed, "We need to get caught up here on our next move I think. Come over here, Castiel, you get a place at the grown-ups table." He moved the gameboard out from the corner of the table to the center, and took the pieces off of it, setting them to the side. Castiel got up reluctantly and looked up at Crowley, waiting.
"Ok, what do we know so far?", Crowley began, selecting a pair of carved figures from the side and placing them standing on the board. "There's you, and there's me, teamed up by a Prophecy from Chuck to prevent the unraveling of the universe."
"Crowley?"
"Yes, Castiel?"
"Why do I have to be the Cherub?"
Crowley frowned down at the two playing pieces, one, a hulking, slavering Demon with foot long claws, the other a baby-faced Cherub drawing back a tiny bow, a wide smile on it's pudgy face.
"It looks just like you, Castiel."
Castiel cocked his head, his eyes narrowed. "It absolutely does not."
"But it's the only Angel in the set, Castiel, OK? Look, it doesn't matter..."
Castiel plucked the Cherub off of the board and replaced it with a piece carved to look like crashing waves. Crowley frowned down at it.
"You're the Ocean?", he asked, his eyebrows raising.
"Waves," Castiel murmured in reply, almost petulantly. "It's closer to my true form, in any case..."
Crowley sighed. "Wunderbar, now, if you don't mind, may we continue?" Castiel nodded.
"So, there's me and the Wavelength, and the Prophecy. Our first case, we run into a cult summoning Old Ones led by one Joshua Vandecourte." He placed a figure of a warthog on the board on the opposite end from the figures of Castiel and himself.
"This cult was supposedly making Old Ones, human hybrids. To what end?"
"When I was inside of his thoughts, Joshua himself was seated on a throne," Castiel replied. "Humans were lined up to offer him their...well, their nightmares. It gave the Old Ones form."
Crowley nodded. "Because the Old Ones can't manifest in this realm without thought anchoring them here. That's how Charlie was able to transform that big one that flooded New Orleans." Crowley scratched his head. "Then Joshua pulled a Houdini on us and disappeared. Was he also a Hybrid? He acted as if he didn't want his Masters to flood the world."
Castiel shook his head. "Consider what we know now, Crowley", he said. "Joshua is here, now, posing as the Emperor. He captured a past version of myself and programmed him, well, me, to open Purgatory. That means he knew all along who we were."
"He's been stringing us along, then, " Crowley muttered. "Testing us, prodding us along in a pre-chosen path. Bloody warthog is too good for him..." Crowley replaced the Joshua warthog with a bulbous toad leaping in the air. "So, what is he, Castiel? Hybrid? Human? Other?"
"I'm guessing one of the lesser Old Ones," Castiel replied. "Something that can observe the patterns of time, manipulate them to his own means."
Crowley's brow furrowed. "Not a big bad, then?"
Castiel looked up, his eyes tired. "No, Crowley, we haven't seen anything even resembling a true 'big bad' yet. The Old Ones, the Masters, they are beings of enormous power, literally on par with God as a group. Joshua is some kind of lieutenant, an intermediary. He's preparing the way, opening the Gates, aligning the timelines, and creating the Hybrids." He shuddered. "The Hybrids will control the humans and form the link between the chaotic energy of the Old Ones and the living universe, allowing the Masters to take form here."
Crowley nodded. "The Old One's versions of Angels, so to say, shepherding and protecting humanity for their own means..." Castiel shot him an angry look. "Don't sugar-coat it Castiel, everyone is out for their own interests, and everyone on this board thinks that their goals are the worthier ones. Now is not the time to get hypocritical."
Castiel huffed but looked back down at the board. "So, Joshua, whatever he is, needs to unlock the Gates to his Master's realm..."
"Right," Crowley answered, snatching up a carving of a large ring and putting it down in the middle of the board. "And for that, he needs to accomplish several things. First and foremost, he needs to open Purgatory three times." Crowley shrugged. "The first two times, he can do that with an Angel, in this case, unfortunately, you, as we have determined. But the third, he said, there was a key, a Song or something, provided by an Archangel, that opened it the final time."
Castiel nodded. "Songs open portals. Or lock them. The final locks of Purgatory were sealed by the Archangels, however, that means only a Archangel knows that Song."
"Then there's the final lock, which the Archangels are the guardians of. That's why they've been killing them." He placed seven soldier-type figures on the board. He looked up at Castiel.
"Who's dead and who's left?", he asked.
"From the original seven, Raphael, Ramiel, Michael, Uriel, who Abel took over for..."
"...before we killed him," Crowley interrupted. Castiel shot him an annoyed glance. "Oh, sorry, please continue.", he said, waving his hand over the board.
Castiel sighed. "Those four are dead. Suriel, Raguel and possibly Gabriel are all that's left," Castiel murmured.
Crowley frowned. " Wasn't Lucifer an Archangel as well? Don't the Old Ones have to kill him?"
Castiel shook his head. "He's Fallen. He can't protect the Lock, even if he were willing to do so in the first place." He studied the soldier pieces and shook his head. "It must be Raguel, the Archangel of Vengeance. I can't see it as being Suriel or Gabriel."
Crowley knocked over all but three of the soldiers, and placed the them near the ring figure. He then placed two more figures on the board, next to Joshua, a snake and the cherub again. He looked up expectantly at Castiel, who looked at the cherub, then gave Crowley a brisk nod of approval. "So Joshua goes into business with these two. The Angel and the Demon." He frowned. "The Archangel is clear, he needs the Song, but why the Demon?"
Castiel frowned. "I'm not sure either. Let's not forget that somehow those two's energies have intermingled. They are no longer truly an Angel or a Demon."
Crowley rubbed his chin. "Then it's some kind of package deal. They keep calling each other 'Brother', which tells me they would not be willing to work without the other. The question is; what was the deal to begin with? What do they gain here helping the Old Ones take over the Universe?"
He placed several smaller figures around and behind the Angel and the Demon. "They assembled these 'Heralds' of theirs and gave them power. To what end?"
"Not as vessels," Castiel murmured, considering. "Although they are burning through those rather quickly."
Crowley's eyes widened. "Castiel, do you remember what that zombie-kid...what was his name again...? Oh yes...Leon, do you remember what he told us regarding what the Angel and Demon were going to do to us?"
Castiel frowned. "That we were 'history'. We concluded that that meant they were going to replace us in some way."
Crowley nodded quickly. "Castiel, what would happen if the Old Ones do manage this? Would the Earth, Heaven and Hell be destroyed, or simply...replaced?"
Castiel looked at the table. On one side were Castiel and Crowley and the seven Archangels, on the other was Joshua, with the the Angel and the Demon behind him, and several of the Heralds gathered behind them. "How many Heralds were there, Crowley...?" he whispered. "We never found that out." He flicked his eyes up at Crowley. He removed a couple of the Herald figures. "What if there are exactly seven..." he whispered, then he rotated the board slowly 180 degrees. "It's a mirror...", he said, whispering.
Crowley stared at the board for a long time, not breathing. "Negative energy instead of positive, but the basic structures intact. All new management. Instead of you running Heaven and me running Hell..."
"...that's why they needed a Demon," Castiel finished. "They need someone to run the new Hell."
"And that's the deal, then," Crowley said, straightening away from the table and putting his hands slowly in his pockets. "They get Heaven and Hell."
"And the Old Ones replace God." Castiel said. "Imprisoning Him, letting life feed them form and energy. He leaned on his hands over the table, his head bowed. "Crowley...I...we...have to stop them..."
Crowley grunted in agreement. "Then we bloody well do, Castiel."
Castiel looked up at him. "Did you have a plan?", he asked, hope in his voice.
Crowley shook his head. Castiel let his fall back down again. Crowley turned his to the side, considering the board once again. "But I know one thing," he said. "Now that I know what they're after, life just became a hell of a lot harder for that lot."
Castiel raised his head again. "Why's that?", he asked hoarsely.
"Because now I know which of their toys I need to take away from them," Crowley growled, sweeping his hand over the board, scattering the pieces over the table. "C'mon Castiel, let's get cleaned up and get the hell out of here," he said, turning towards his private chambers and removing his jacket.
Castiel stayed there staring at the scattered pieces, his eyes moving along the board until they came to a stop on the sculpture of the ring.