Warnings This Chapter: Some blood and gore, Violence (although not much more than you see on the show) and some character death
Chapter 13:
AN: Hello! Does anyone remember this fic anymore? I'm really really sorry. I meant to post this chapter awhile ago, but school started up again. My classes have been kicking my ass. So without futher ado, Enjoy!
Last time:
Dean doesn't have a chance to answer before all hell breaks loose. A small army of demons breaks through the plywood-covered skylight into the warehouse. At the front, leading the charge is Castiel.
Now:
The angels are surprised by the sudden invasion from above. They abandon watch over their mortal prisoners in favor of battling their ancient enemies.
In a one-on-one fight an angel will easily defeat a demon, but at the moment the demons have the advantage of greater numbers. After Dean's blood bath of an entrance, the angels are left with around two dozen warriors. The demons came prepared with more than 100 fighters. This leaves the sides pretty evenly matched.
Castiel lands next to Dean. He takes down the two angels that have his lover restrained with a single quick movement. Then, he uses his knife to cut Dean's bonds.
"Thanks Cas, I knew I made you my second in command for a reason," Dean smirks. "Well a reason beside your awesome bod."
Castiel smiles, a slight blush on his face. A less pleasant voice interrupts before he can respond.
"Hello, Castiel," Zachariah sneers. "Long time no see. We assumed that you were dead. We didn't think that even an angel as mediocre as you would subject himself to becoming Lucifer's whore. Then again, maybe we underestimated just how much of a slut you really are." Castiel is about to charge at the other angel, but Dean holds him back.
"I'll take care of him," Dean explains. "You go help Sam and his family." Castiel glares at Zachariah for a second longer before going to do as Dean requested.
"So the little catamite can't even fight his own battles," Zachariah sneers.
"Aw, you're just jealous," Dean counters. "Because no one wants to go to the prom with you." Zachariah frowns.
"You petulant brat," Zachariah takes a swing at Dean. Dean doges and answers with a blow of his own to Zachariah's chest. Zachariah lands a punch to Dean's face and Dean quickly retreats backwards to avoid another. They circle each other slowly. They charge forward trading blow after blow, neither gaining any ground. A sudden kick to his solar plexus send Dean sailing back. He lands with a groan on the floor. Zachariah advances quickly, wrapping his hands around Dean's neck. Dean's silver angel knife has fallen in the floor beside him. He reaches toward it as his vision begins to go dark. His hand wraps around the hilt of the blade. He brings the silver knife up, plunging it through the throat of the man above him. A gurgling sound part fear, part surprise comes from Zachariah's ruined throat. His eyes are wide with shock. Dean doesn't look away as Zachariah's life ends in an explosion of light. He turns away once the angel's lifeless vessel has fallen to the floor. He tries to find Castiel.
Castiel has already freed Sam. Now the two of them are trying to make their way across the room to where Sam's wife and children are restrained. It's only a few hundred feet. If the warehouse was empty the walk would only take a few minutes, but it isn't empty. The warehouse has turned into a battlefield. Neither side has any sort of plan. The fighting resembles a free-for-all street brawl. The floor is littered with the corpses of unfortunate vessels. The air has begun to fill with smoke from the small but growing fires that were lit by some overzealous demons. Navigating through this chaos is slow going. Castiel often has to stop to defend himself against an attacking angel or pull Sam back from a collision with a distracted fighter.
Dean has an easier time navigating. Being the king of hell has some advantages. The demons do their best to stay out of their lord's way and most of the angels are smart enough to do the same. Occasionally an angel is foolish enough to challenge him and Dean subdues them without batting an eye.
He reaches the support beam that Sam's family is tied to. They look shaken and a little scraped up, but don't seem to be seriously hurt. Dean realizes that is could have been a lot worse.
"Help Cas cut them free," Dean commands, handing Sam his knife. "I keep the angels away from you."
Dean watches Sam and Cas out of the corner of his eye as he protects them from any enemy angels that approach. Diana, Sam's wife, wants to ask questions, but she can't figure out how to even begin to understand the nightmare that her life has turned into in such a short period of time. She decides that at the moment the most important thing is to get her family out of this warehouse turned warzone. But Sam will definitely owe her an explanation later.
As soon as the ropes have been cut away Sam's children, Robin and Nathan, rush into their father's arms. They hug him tight as if they expect him to disappear at any moment. Sam holds them tight for the same reason. Once the children let go, Diana takes their place in Sam's arms and pulls him into a passionate kiss.
"We thought we'd lost you," she whispers as if saying it too loudly will suddenly make it true.
"Me too," Sam replies. They hold each other silently for several moments until Cas speaks.
"We must go now," Castiel states reluctant to interrupt. Sam nods in agreement.
"Duck," Dean suddenly yells. Everyone drops to the ground just as a Demon (thrown across the room by an angel) passes inches above their heads and crash lands where Sam's family had been minutes before, eviscerating the support column in a cloud of dust.
That's when Dean notices something. Many of the buildings other support structures have suffered similar fates as this one, as have a few areas of the wall. There isn't much left holding up the ceiling. It's beginning to crumble.
"Run, go, hurry," Dean commands.
"What?" Sam wonders at his brother's sudden rush.
"In a few minutes that ceiling is going to come down on us like Britney Spear's career," Dean explains. "We need to get out now."
They're running, desperately fleeing the collapsing warehouse. One angel, too mindless to flee like most of his brothers, surprises Sam by grabbing him and pulling him away from the group. The angel slams the back of Sam's head into the floor, pinning him to the ground, and punches him repeatedly across the face. He feels dizzy from the blow to his head. His lip splits and blood fills his mouth as the angel continues to pummel him.
Dean yanks the angel off his brother and takes him out with a flick of the silver knife. Sam's world spins as Dean pulls him to his feet.
"Sammy, you ok?" Dean asks. Sam feels ready to throw up. "I think you have a concussion. Let me help you." Dean wraps his brother's arm around his shoulder and helps support him as they make their way toward the exit.
Castiel is somewhere ahead of Dean although they can't see each other through the layers of smoke. Castiel is trying to lead Diana, Robin, and Nate to the exit as safely as possibly with the poor visibility and numerous obstacles.
Suddenly there is a quiet cry and gasp of pain as Nathan trips over the body of a fallen fighter. Castiel, Diana, and Robin all turn back to help him.
"Keep going," Castiel tells Diana. "I will see to Nathan." Diana hesitates a moment, but both of them know that the roof could collapse at any moment so every second counts. She trusts Castiel to take care of her son, so she grips Robin's hand and continues toward the exit.
Cas tries to gently help Nathan to his feet. The boy winces and lets out a hiss of pain when he puts pressure on his left leg. Castiel feels for injuries. Nathan must have hurt his ankle when he tripped. Luckily it isn't broken, but it is badly sprained. Nathan won't be able to put any weight on it. The angel lifts the 6 year-old into his arms, intending to carry the boy to the exit.
The Winchester family has been separated by the chaos around them, left unsure of the exact location of their other family members. Diana is closest to the exit. She clutches Robin's hand tightly as she tries to maneuver around the all the debris that lies between them and freedom. Castiel is just a bit behind them with Nate held to his chest. Bringing up the rear is a still slightly dizzy Sam leaning on Dean for support.
With a loud cracking sound as the only warning, the ceiling above them finally gives way. Sam's family is still at least a hundred feet from the door. Everyone ends up buried in a shower of debris. When the dust clears the warehouse has finally gone quiet. Most of the fires have been smothered by the chunks of roof. By now the warriors from both heaven and hell seem to have either died or retreated.
Castiel rises from the wreckage. Despite his trench coat being nearly torn off his body, he doesn't have a scratch on him. In his arms Nathan in freaked out but unharmed. Castiel looks around. His eyes focus on a specific place among the rubble.
Suddenly that section of debris explodes outward in a wave of energy revealing Dean Winchester. He reaches down and pulls his brother up from the sea of concrete. Both of the brothers are covered in dust, but Dean's powers have kept them from being crushed. Sam eyes come to rest on his son. He rushes over the debris, occasionally stumbling, as his makes his way toward his son. He takes the boy from Castiel's arms into his own.
"Are you alright?" Sam questions his son.
"I'm ok, Daddy," Nathan nods.
"Thank God," Sam says hugging Nate tight to his chest.
"Do you here that?" Castiel asks Dean, distracting his from watching his brother and nephew. Dean listens. There's muffled whimpering sound coming from beneath the rubble. They follow the sound, digging under the debris to find its source. Under a large section of heavy roof is Diana.
There's blood soaking the back of her head where she was hit by a section of concrete. She isn't moving. Dean reaches down to check her pulse. There isn't one and she doesn't seem to be breathing.
Trapped under her mother's dead body Dean finds Robin. Her breathing is panicked and there are wet tear trails cutting through the dust on her face. That's the noise they've been hearing. She's scrapped and bruised, but at least she's alive. It looks like had Diana used her body as a shield to protect her daughter from the collapsing ceiling. It worked at the cost of Diana's own life.
Dean carefully moves Diana's body so that Robin can crawl free. Sam has come over to see what is happening. He comes to an abrupt stop and stares in shock at his wife's body. Nathan is trailing after him, his little hand grasped in Sam's. He looks at his father then, what remains of his mother then back to his father again. He doesn't know what is going on.
"Daddy…?" Sam doesn't hear the rest of Nathan's question. He falls to his knees as his whole world falls away until all he can see is his wife. He cradles the body in his arms
"Di," he says patting her cheek. "Di, Diana please," he begs her unmoving form. His body shakes with unshed tears.
"Cas, take the kids to the car," Dean commands. "They don't need to see this." Cas nods solemnly, takes each child by the hand, and leads them away from this place where everything is broken.
Dean kneels down next to his brother placing his hand on the younger man's shoulder. He wants to say something comforting, but there aren't any words to could make this better.
"Bring her back," Sam pleads. "Please, Dean."
"I can't Sammy," It breaks Dean's heart to be unable to give this to Sam. "She is… was a good person. She is going to head straight up to those pearly gates. That's not my department. She's out of my reach."
"What about Azazel?" Sam questions. "He brought me back to life."
"Because I made a deal, Sammy," Dean explains. "Otherwise it would have been impossible."
"So I could make a deal with you to get her back?" Sam reasons.
"You can't Sam," Dean insists. "What do you have to trade?"
"My soul," Sam offers.
"I don't want your soul," Dean replies. "You sell me your soul and you'll end up in hell. Hell sucks. Take the worst thing you can imagine, multiply it by ten, and you still haven't scratched the surface of how horrible it is down there. The demons down there are less trustworthy than a nest of snakes. They'd rip you apart the second I take my eyes off you. I wouldn't be able to protect you. I can't let that happen. I can't take your soul."
"It's our fault she's dead, Dean," Sam accuses. "The angels went after her because of us. She was here because of us. We painted a huge bulls-eye on her back without even giving her a heads up. We did this, Dean. Now we have to fix it. I'll give you anything. Name it. Anything if you bring them back."
Dean thinks of the one thing he's wanted since this started. He thinks of the horror of the last couple days (fear, blood, death) versus the tranquility of the preceding thirteen years (love, laughter, pie). He knows what he wants.
"I want things to go back to the way they were," Dean blurts out before he can have second thoughts. "Forget everything that's happened."
"How…?" Sam trails off as the light bulb suddenly goes off in his head. "You want me to let you shuffle around in my head again, mess with my memories. You want me to go back to not knowing about all the evil that's out there." Dean doesn't respond to the accusations. The anger disappears from Sam's voice. "If I let you, you'll bring Diana back?," he asks. Dean nods.
"Then, you have a deal," Sam agreed. "Um… do we have to kiss?" Sam wonders uncertainly after several moments of silence.
"Ew, no Sam," Dean replies. "We can just shake on it."
Sam awakens to the shrill ringing of his alarm. He tries to hold on to the unusually vivid dream that he'd been having. It slips away like sand through his fingers. All that's left are hazy sensations: dust clinging to his skin, a sticky red splash of color across his vision, the anxious sound of his brother's voice, and an overwhelming feeling of dread.
He glances over at the other side of the bed where Diana sleeps. She isn't there. Sam's breath quickens and his heart begins to pound as he enters the first stage of panic.
"Good morning sleepy head," Diana calls as she enters the room. Her hair is still damp from the shower. Sam mentally scolds himself for getting so worked up over nothing. He has no idea why he reacted that way.
"Morning," Sam responds as he and Diana share a good morning kiss.
"You had better get dressed," she advises. "You have that meeting with Richardson this morning."
Sam looks at her in confusion. The last thing he remembers is saying goodbye to Dean and then putting the kids to bed. That was Saturday. His meeting with Richardson wasn't until Wednesday. Where had the three days in-between gone? There's a part of him that feels like he should worry about this, but the thoughts keeps slipping from his mind. He can't focus on those missing days. It's like someone constructed a wall around his memories of those days. His wife asks him a question and the entire issue falls from his mind. He heads off to work with a smile on his face.
Dean drives. He restores Sam's life to the way it was, making sure to erase everyone's memory of what happened. Then, he mojos himself into the impala and just drives. Dean needs to think or maybe not think, he isn't really sure at this point. All he knows is that he can't stay where he was. He's tired of looking Sam in the eye and lying to him. He presses a button on the radio and Led Zepplin's 'Ramble On' begins to play. Dean lets the music and rumble of his baby's engine mute the nagging, guilty voice in his mind.
After nearly 12 hours and more than 1,000 miles of driving, Dean finds himself heading through a sea of large glass and metal buildings. Running completely on autopilot, he pulls into the garage and parks the car. His feet take him up the stairs and into an office that seems familiar. Suddenly between the other rushing business people Dean catches sight of his brother. That's when it hits him: this is Sam's law office.
Dean watches, invisible to everyone, as his brother interacts with his co-workers. Sam listens to a brunet woman talk about her son's soccer game. He shares a joke with a short, balding man. He goes over some files for the upcoming trial with a skinny, blond man. They gather around the water cooler to talk about last night's baseball game, what movies they've seen recently, and what it's going to be like once their children are back in school. It's all so normal. None of them know that Sam had nearly died yesterday.
Dean is the only one that knows. He can't forget. The guilt worms its way into his thoughts. He spent 13 years lying and keeping his brother in the dark. He'd taken away Sam's defense against all the supernatural things out there that want their heads on a platter. It had almost gotten his entire family killed. Hell, Diana had been killed (if only temporarily). Then, he'd been forced to come clean. He finally had the chance to stop the lies, but the first chance he'd gotten, Dean had pressured into giving up his memories again. What kind of person does something like that? He wants to look away, but it's like watching a train wreck. Despite his best effort to forget or at, the guilt continues to eats at him.
Sam stays late that night. He needed to make sure his argument is perfect for court tomorrow. Almost everyone else has gone home already. The only other person he sees on the way to the elevator is Kevin from the night cleaning crew. He rides the elevator alone down to the parking garage. It's dark down there with harsh industrial lights providing an occasional pool of brightness in the sea of dark. He approaches his car, stopping short when he notices a shadowy figure leaning on the hood. He tries to back away slowly, but the figure catches sight of him. It takes a step forward.
"Hey, Sammy," a familiar voice rings out in the nearly-empty garage.
"Jesus Dean, you nearly gave me a heart attack," Sam reproaches with a smile.
"Sorry man," Dean responds. "I didn't know you scared so easy." Dean teases. He's trying to joke and act normal but, Sam can see the tension behind the smile.
"So what are you doing here man?" Sam asks. "This isn't exactly your neck of the woods."
"I have to tell you something," Dean says all the amusement gone from his face.
Sam awakens with his head swimming. For the second time that week forgotten memories come crashing over him like waves. It takes him several moments to realize that he's sprawled out in the backseat of his own car. And it's moving. He sits up quickly, trying to catch of glimpse of whoever is driving.
"Rise and shine," Dean's cheerful voice comes from the driver's seat. That answers that question. "I can't believe you drive a mini-van. I don't think I'm ever going to get the stench of soccer mom out of my clothes. I just might have to burn them."
Sam just stares at Dean with a blank look on his face. Dean's smile becomes tentative and he begins to drum his fingers nervously on the steering wheel.
"Well, you're home," Dean states after a few minutes of awkward silence. Sam glances out the window and realizes that they've come to a stop in his driveway. He snaps to attention at the sound of one of the car door banging shut. He watches in surprise as Dean walks down the driveway, away from Sam.
"Where are you going?" Sam scrambles out of the car and shouts after his brother.
"Dunno," Dean shrugs. "I should probably go get my car. I left it at the garage and if anything happens to my baby, the consequences will not be pleasant."
"You're just going to just drop a bombshell like that directly in my brain and then take off?" Sam questions heatedly.
"I didn't think you'd want to sit around and have a tea party," Dean replies. "And I didn't want to hang around for the punch to the face."
Sam opens his mouth to retort, but his voice catches in his throat when he remembers how he reacted the last time his memories returned. Dean turns and continues to walk away. Sam grabs his brother's arm, pulling him to a stop.
"I know I didn't have the best reaction before," Sam ignores the way Dean rolls his eyes at this statement. "But, I understand it now. I mean you saved my life in the warehouse. You helped rescue my family. You brought my wife back to me. You did everything you could to help me even when I was a jerk to you. You are still emotionally constipated and try to run at the first sign of a chick flick moment, but that's what makes you my brother. I can't believe I didn't get it before but I get it now. I get it dude. I'm sorry."
Sam waits for Dean to respond, the quiet stretching on and making him anxious. Finally, Dean speaks.
"Bitch," Dean says, his face breaking into a huge grin.
"Jerk," Sam retorts, smiling just as widely as his brother. That single word from his brother reassures him that everything between them is going to be okay.
AN: I hope you enjoyed that. This is the last chapter (not counting the epilogue that should also be up). Please take the time to review. Thanks for reading. See you next time :)