Episode 12 – Revelation
Summary: The angels close in on Metatron while Sam and Dean are investigating strange occurrences in New Madrid, Missouri.
Author's Notes: Second chapter today, so make sure you catch "Episode 11 – Behold The Prophet", y'all.
xXx
Kevin heaves a sigh, rubbing his eyes in an attempt to improve his prophetic vision. So far, it hasn't worked one bit.
Sam and Dean have been gone for two days, with Sam checking in at regular intervals with updates, while Kevin has barely slept. Gabriel will need the spell as soon as they have Metatron in custody and Kevin still has no clue as to how they are supposed to combine the ingredients. If the tablet weren't the word of God, Kevin would love to throw it against the bunker wall and let it shatter into a thousand pieces.
He rises from his chair in the library, cracking his back and stretching his arms before he makes his way to the kitchen to get another Red Bull. He downs it in one go.
On his way back, his cell phone goes off in his pocket – Sam, the display reads.
"Hello."
"Kevin, how are you?"
"Stuck. I'm not getting anything. Nada. It's as if the tablet doesn't want me to do anything," he grumbles, barely managing to hold back a longer tirade of curses and complaints. "How's the search for Metatron going?"
"If one more person tells us that he's the new Messiah, I won't guarantee for anyone's safety…"
"No luck, then?"
"He's just too fast. Whenever we reach his most recent destination, we're too late. And we haven't gotten our hands on any of his followers either… By the looks of it, Gabe would probably allow Dean to go all dungeon master on them."
"Sounds like –" Kevin begins, yet the sounding of the bunker's alarm cuts him off. He rushes to the control room, taking in the blinking lights and the loud noise.
"Kevin, what's wrong?!" Sam calls out on the other end of the line but before Kevin can fill him in, the ground starts shaking.
"It's an earthquake!" Kevin explains hastily, taking in the readings but they're all just as meaningless as the symbols on the tablet.
"In Kansas?"
"No, wait, it says here whatever it's coming from – Missouri."
"Missouri? What? Hang on, we're coming!"
After that, the line goes dead. Another wave hits and Kevin sways on his feet, gripping the console for support. Then he remembers the tables, lying precariously near the edge of the table when he last saw it.
Kevin jumps the steps and then throws himself onto the floor, arms outstretched and catches the stone moments before it would have hit the ground, adrenaline chasing the blood through his veins.
Well, at least now Kevin's awake.
"Kevin?!"
Sam's voice. He scrambles to his feet and into the control room where he finds both Winchesters as well as the two angels, wearing expressions in various shades of worry. Dean mostly looks annoyed while his brother's furrowed brows relax as soon as he catches a glimpse of Kevin.
He motions to the tablet in his hands as a way of explanation.
"Can someone please shut up that alarm? That sound's terrible!" Gabriel complains, ushering Sam towards the control panels. Sam pushes a few buttons, successfully silencing it. Kevin watches as his eyes glide across the meters, taking it all in.
"It was an earthquake, but the computer's picking up all kinds of signals. I bet that wasn't a natural occurrence."
"Yeah, but Missouri?" Dean asks, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
Suddenly, Sam's expression clears. "Of course! The New Madrid Fault Line!"
"English, Sammy."
"It's a seismic zone, ending just below New Madrid. There was a huge earthquake at the beginning of the 19th century or something; scientists still have no idea why it'd be a danger zone because it's in the middle of a tectonic plate."
"So it might not have been supernatural in origin?" Castiel asks, tilting his head at Sam.
"But the computer detected signs. Something has to be going on."
"Doesn't look like Metadouche's MO, though," Dean argue.
"Unless he's planning on playing the Messiah with the victims, heal a few broken legs," Gabriel says, lips curling into a grin. "Oh, that'd be precious – the dickbag orchestrates his own natural disasters, it's brilliant."
"Yeah, but according to Twitter, 'Marv The Messiah' just was in Washington, curing a kid of leukemia. He couldn't have caused the earthquake, not personally," Sam explains, holding out his phone that shows a tweet.
Gabriel groans, rolling his eyes. "Alright, alright, might not be the most coherent theory. So take your demon and zap off to investigate; Cassie and I'll pay a visit to the capital. Kevin," he adds, turning around. "Stay put. Don't go out. This is the safest place for you right now and we can't afford to lose you, capiche?"
Kevin nods curtly, sparing a smile for Sam. Moments later, the bunker is empty once more.
xXx
Dean teleports them the almost 700 miles to New Madrid in less than a second. It used to weird Sam out, that his brother of all people is now able to do things like that, but over the past weeks the novelty has worn off and Sam can appreciate the advantages.
Like now when they need to canvas the area as fast as demonly possible and Dean is off again, leaving the faintest trace of sulfur behind. Alright, so Sam would have appreciated it if Dean had informed him of his decision to split up, but well… Telegraphing his intentions hasn't been his brother's style since he got the Mark.
Sam heads south, the afternoon sun burning down and reflecting off the water of the Mississippi River, which curves just below the city, separating Kentucky from Missouri. If he remembers what he heard about the Fault Line correctly, it ends southwest of New Madrid, which would put the river into the seismic zone.
It takes him a while before he gets close enough to make out the riverside, where he finds a large production plant blocking his view. He jogs down the road until he can go around it and lay eyes on some sort of river island. Sam can't explain it to himself why that place in particular is so enticing, yet one moment later he sort of gets his explanation – a tall pillar of smoke shoots heavenward, originating from the island.
"Would you look at that," Dean drawls, suddenly next to Sam.
"Whatever's going on is starting there."
"Hold on tight, brother." That's the only warning Dean gives him before zapping them across the river and onto the small piece of land.
They move in unison, no need to coordinate or exchange coded gestures – they've been playing this game long enough to know how to proceed.
The forest is eerily silent, as if all wildlife had left… which makes catching the cracking wood behind them all the easier to hear. Sam whirls around, Ruby's knife raised and ready to strike. Someone attacks him, causing him to fall but Sam rolls over his back and is on his feet again in time to bury the knife inside his attacker's body. Demon, definitely, since the knife slays him and the man's lifeless body slumps to the dirty ground.
Sam looks up to see Dean has brought a similar fate to all three of his own attackers.
"We're definitely in the right place," Sam whispers, following his brother's lead deeper into the woods.
xXx
It's Sam who spots the hatch in the ground. Dean kicks it open with that blunt force he's grown so fond of and jumps inside, Sam close behind him, taking the steps of the ladder two at a time until Dean gets bored without him and zaps him the rest of the way down.
"I can climb down a ladder, you know," he grumbles, which merely elicits a grunt from his brother as they make their way down the only path available.
"Huh," Dean comments after they lit their flashlights. "I was expecting something more sci-fi, or maybe like that bunker in Lost, you know, less caveman chic."
"This has to be ancient," Sam whispers in awe. They landed in a tunnel system, clearly dug by hand, Stone Age style paintings adorning the walls. Upon closer inspection, all drawings are incredibly bloody, though.
They follow the tunnels, bodies tense and ready to strike down every demon that comes their way, yet nothing happens until they reach a clearly Modern Age door with sigils that Sam identifies as anti-angel warding.
"Someone wanted to be left alone."
"Good thing we ain't angels, then," Dean says before he kicks the door down, his foot leaving a dent in the metal before it bursts open.
Sam expected a fight to the death, maybe some dark magic or other demonic rituals. What they find instead is a room full of dead bodied. Five dead bodies, to be exact.
"What the hell," Dean breathes out and Sam lowers his weapon.
Of course that's when a survivor attacks him.
There's a sharp pain in his back like he's been kicked before he stumbles forward, trying to hold his balance. To his left he hears a sharp hiss of pain that can only mean one thing – someone's using holy water or holy fire on his brother. The thought spirals Sam into action and he whirls around, aiming a roundhouse kick at where he thinks his attacker is standing only to have the figure duck and hit him in the chest with a side kick in return while throwing something in Dean's direction, prompting another hiss.
Sam lunges forward and closes his arms around the woman's chest – for it is a woman, maybe 5'6'' or 5'7'' and lean enough that Sam should be able to propel them both to the floor and pin her to the ground with his weight and height alone.
No such luck, though.
She remains decidedly upright, twisting in his grip until apparently she decides she had enough and brings her legs up, which is the last thing Sam sees before those legs close around his head and the woman throws him down to the ground and onto his back.
The force of impact and the surprise at being taken down by a woman half his size knocks the air right out of his lungs and before he can gather his bearings, he is staring at the barrel of a gun.
"If you move I won't hesitate to pull that trigger," warns the woman holding it.
Dean stills and for the first time, Sam can take a closer look at the person who took him down. She's wearing sturdy boots and loose pants with a belt holding an arsenal of weapons. Her shirt and jacket look like they're half armor and her black, wavy hair is tied into a loose bun, but several strands have come loose. She makes quite the picture, and Sam would appreciate the sight if he weren't too busy catching his breath.
"You killed the demons?" he ventures, wondering when it might be safe to sit up again. Dean's skin is red and irritated from where Sam thinks the holy water hit, but it's already healing.
"Yes."
"Do you know who we are?"
"Originally I thought you're two of the bad guys but you're human, aren't you?" She looks down on him with a raised eyebrow.
"What gave it away?" Sam scoffs, holding up both hands as he pulls his torso up slowly.
She grins. "So you're the Winchesters?"
"How do you know?" Dean growls, his skin completely fine again but his eyes are still black and judging from the set of his jaw, he's incredibly pissed off.
"My Dad was a hunter, too. Pastor Kahr. He coordinated cases on the east coast."
"Was?" Sam wonders out loud and watches the woman's dark blue eyes grow cold as ice.
"He was killed a few weeks ago, along with my brother. A demon stole something, something important, and I've been chasing after it ever since."
"Is that what led you here?"
"Yeah. And once again, I've come too late. But I heard you're in Kansas, so I hoped I'd find you here, even if I'm too late to stop it."
"Stop what?" Sam is starting to feel like he's missing something.
The woman blinks, obviously taken aback. "You mean you really don't know? You've got to be kidding me!" She groans, pressing the palm of her hand still holding the gun against her forehead.
Sam climbs to his feet, exchanging a look with Dean. "What're you talking about?"
She swallows, squaring her shoulders. "I'm talking about 47 broken seals. I'm talking about the damn apocalypse!"
Sam's blood runs cold instantly.
xXx
The way the brothers react is almost comical.
"What d'you mean, 'the apocalypse'?" the one with the black eyes – Dean – protests. "We've averted that one already!"
"Are you sure?" Sam asks, but he has gone pale, so he can't doubt her too much.
"Yes," Ales snaps nonetheless. "And I'll explain everything, but not here. The less risk of anyone overhearing this, the better. Take me to the Men of Letters bunker."
The tall one stares at her. "How do you know about that?"
"My father's a knowledgeable man."
She leaves it at that and turns towards the exit, yet the younger Winchester's voice holds her back. "Wait, but what about the earthquake?"
"Too late. They completed the ritual. The sun'll already have gone dark, and the moon'll be red."
"That's a seal?"
"Revelation six-twelve names it as the sixth, but we all know it's only the first and last seal that's fixed," she calls over her shoulder, already on her way out of the base, back through the tunnel and up to the hatch. When she reaches the surface, the Winchesters are already waiting, and Dean is looking decidedly smug. His eyes aren't black anymore but a vibrant green that Alex would consider beautiful if she didn't know what monster lies beneath.
"Want a ride back to our HQ?" Dean sneers and she has half a mind to decline but in the end, it's just more practical.
Alright, scratch that – it's weird. One second they are on a river island in the middle of the Mississippi, the next the three of them are standing in front of door. It's more than a bit disorienting, but Alex catches her balance soon enough.
She blows out a shallow breath when she follows Sam down the staircase into the large room, taking in the map table and the few other rooms she can see from her point of view. "Impressive."
Before either Winchester can say anything, an Asian boy appears in the doorway just at the same moment when Dean blinks out of existence. Living with him must be annoying, Alex figures.
"Sam, Dean, what's going on? Who's this?" the boy asks, prompting Sam to turn towards her. He probably realizes for the first time that she never gave them her name. Time to remedy that, then.
"Alexandra Kahr. And you are?"
"Kevin," is all he says. He seems equipped with the paranoia of a hunter but nothing about his stance and the way he holds himself suggests any kind of prolonged training. He's not much younger than Alex, so he should have some skills, even if he didn't grow up with hunters.
"Who's he, your secretary?"
"Uh, not quite," Sam evades her question, not even meeting her eyes.
Dean reappears next to them, bringing a small hint of sulfur with him that turns Alex' stomach. He's pocketing his cell phone, looking grim.
"Called Cas but it went straight to voicemail. Probably still hunting down the Megadouche."
"Why?" Kevin interrupts, a slight quiver in his voice. "What's going on?"
"The apocalypse," Alex tells him, but doesn't expect the intense physical reaction her statement invokes. The guy flinches back, his eyes widening in what Alex is pretty sure is fear.
"She's joking, right? Right? Sam? Dean?"
"The lady didn't wanna talk in Missouri, so we brought her here," Dean pitches in, "so we know nothing more that that. Now spill, girl."
Alex can feel three pairs of eyes on her and takes a deep breath. You wanted this, she has to remind herself. You sought out the Winchesters.
"My father knew about monsters; he was a hunter, but first and foremost he was a pastor in Richmond. His family has been protecting the church there for centuries because the crypts below are holding one of the most important documents in the history of creation."
Suddenly, realization dawns on Sam's face. "I think I read something about that once - The Book of Seals?"
"Gold star for the giant," Alex snaps before she can stop herself. It's strange how fast being a pastor's daughter can evaporate after just a few weeks on the road. "A couple of weeks ago when I came back from a run," she has to pause to swallow around the lump in her throat as unbidden images flash before her eyes even though she is trying her best not to think about them, "a demon was in our house. She'd killed my father and was attacking my brother… I couldn't… I tried but… She killed him and took the book before I could stop her."
"And what exactly is that book supposed to be?" Dean asks and when Alex meets his eyes, there's no empathy in them, as if it doesn't matter that two people lost their lives. The rumors are truer than Alex suspected, then.
"It's the only known list of all 600 seals in existence. There's only one reason to steal it, and that's because someone wants to free Lucifer from Hell and bring on the apocalypse, for real this time."
"But that's impossible!" Sam protest, like Alex knew he would. "Lilith is dead!"
"And I ain't the Righteous Man anymore, princess. So unless the rules have changed since the last time some wacko tried to jailbreak the devil, we got nothing to worry about."
A hot ball of rage unfolds in Alex' stomach, making her hand jerk towards the holy water bombs she still has left as she steps towards the other man.
"Listen to me, pretty boy," she growls, and all Dean does is raise an eyebrow, which only fuels her rage. "Are you really dumb enough to believe that you, you of all people, are the only righteous man there is? There are dozens of candidates at any point in time and all those bastards need have done is find one and make sure he picks up a knife of his own in the pit and from what I've heard, thanks to a certain new employee, there's a hell of a lot more souls breaking a hell of a lot more easily lately."
Dean's eyes turn black immediately and Alex can feel the tingling sensation that comes with being the target of biokinetic powers but before the Winchester can do any serious harm, his brother's there, pushing him back with a placating hand on his chest.
"Easy there, no need to start anything, alright?"
It takes a few moments but then Dean's eyes are back to their natural green and Alex feels the tingling recede. She doesn't twitch. She won't give Dean that satisfaction.
It's the Kevin guy who coughs and draws all their attention. "So they stole the book and now have a blueprint of what they need to do. That doesn't change the fact that Lilith is dead. They need her, right?" His voice trembles slightly, but he barges on. "Or is there an alternative last seal?"
Alex shakes her head. "No. It's Lilith or nothing."
"Then we're in the clear, what's the big deal," Dean declares, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
"And when has death ever stopped anyone from anything? I heard the rumors, I know you've been to purgatory, both of you, and I know that there's still a few rogue Reapers out there. If they need Lilith, they'll find a way to get her."
"But what I don't get," Sam cuts in, "is who they are? I mean sure there's easier ways to get rid of Crowley, aren't there? What's their interest in all this, 'cause I'm sure it's not the angels doing this."
"It's not about a simple regime change," Alex argues, "it's about freeing Lucifer. As far as I know quite a few demons are still loyal to him. And with… well."
"What?" Sam asks when Alex doesn't go on.
"My theory is that they decided to strike again now because they think one Winchester is out of the picture."
That, of course, doesn't sit well with Dean. "The hell I am! What, they thought just 'cause I got a few extra powers that I'll stop fighting the good fight?"
Alex shrugs. "You are a Knight of Hell, aren't you? From what I've heard, you're even training a group of others."
"Who told you that?"
"I have my ways."
Their eyes lock and Alex holds the man's gaze, set on not looking away first.
This time it's Sam who breaks the silence. "Alright. So whoever they are, they know about Dean's, uh, condition, and probably knew it before word got out on the street. They decided to start the process, but they needed the book because the only one who really knew about all the seals was Lilith and she's still dead. You said you've been chasing them?"
"Yeah, but I've never been quick enough to get a look at them, except for the woman who stole the book in the first place. When I realized I'd never catch them on my own, I started asking around where I could find you," she looks from Sam to Dean, "since you started and stopped it the last time." Alex sighs, running a hand through her hair. "I came to ask for your help."
"And you heard we're in Kansas?"
"Somewhere no one can find unless they know where it is. I was on my way when I passed by New Madrid and decided to check it out because the earthquake seal wasn't broken yet. It hit while I was there, but all the demons there were just lackeys; they didn't know anything. I thought you two might show, so I hung around."
Sam's hand comes up to rub the back of his head and Alex feels a small sense of pride at the thought that she gave this wall of muscle a bump.
"Does that mean you have a plan?" Kevin asks, forehead lined with worry. "I mean, a plan would be good."
"I've studied the book for years, so I know what seals exist and I've been able to guess where they'll strike next, but unless we find out who's behind this, I've got nothing except 'stop the seals from breaking' and as far as I know, that hasn't worked so well the last time."
"No," Sam agrees, "but with the Men of Letters equipment and with more manpower, we've got a better chance than you had on your own."
"You got any idea what the next seal's gonna be?"
"I've been keeping an eye on the news," Alex explains as she digs around her pockets for her phone and pulls up the picture folder. "And this caught my eye."
She holds it out to them as the three men step closer to take a look at the newspaper article she photographed the day before.
"A few researchers and treasure hunters are digging for gold in the Euphrates. It's also one of the seals that corresponds to a sign of the apocalypse in Islamic culture."
Kevin blinks at the article. "Why would that be a seal? They're just digging for gold."
"A corporation bought a large area of land to build a resort and while preparing the ground, they rerouted the river slightly… Apparently a piece of the gold buried somewhere near that construction site surfaced and was washed down, then found and traced back to where it came from. It is written that when the Euphrates changes direction, it will reveal gold and that a lot of people with die fighting over it."
"So we'll go there, gank the demons before they can find the treasure and stop that seal," Dean suggests and unfortunately it's the best plan they have.
Alex nods grimly. "Let's go, then."
xXx
"Yeah, Marv was here, but you just missed him!"
Castiel watches how Gabriel's jaw tightens and his vessel's body tenses. "Did he by any chance mention where he was going next? It's of paramount importance that we speak to him."
"Sorry, can't help you there."
"Thank you for the information," Castiel says, for his brother is coming threateningly close to loosing his tempter. Their witness smiles and waves them off as Castiel ushers the archangel across the baseball field where Metatron just cured a terminally ill player who's been giving money to great causes all his life.
"We never catch a break!" Gabriel shouts, kicking at the grass repeatedly. "How can he always be gone? Are we just that unlucky?!"
"We need to be patient, Gabriel-"
"Patient! Patient!"
"Stop acting like a child, brother," Castiel tries, aiming for a soothing tone but if he is honest, he doesn't even think himself that they will find Metatron any time soon.
Castiel remembers to check his phone when Gabriel has finally cooled down enough that they can make their way back to find Hannah and Kemuel yet when he retrieves it, he discovers it is out of battery.
"Damn it." The curse is out there before he can decide to voice it. Predictably, his outburst earns him Gabriel's mirth.
"What is it, Cassie? Did lover boy cancel for tonight 'cause he's too busy kicking ass and taking names down in the pit?"
"My battery is dead," Castiel explains, opting to ignore Gabriel's jib.
"The trouble of modern life, brother. A few centuries back humans would complain about the fire wood running out…"
"I'm glad my suffering amuses you."
"Well, I've got little to laugh about right now, Cassie."
"Gabriel!"
They both turn around to where the voice is coming from. Hashmal is running towards them, waving his phone excitedly.
"I think I know where Metatron will be going next!"
"What? Where?"
"Someone from San Francisco tweeted that their son, a fireman, was severely burnt while trying to rescue drug addicts from a burning building. They burns aren't healing as expected and now the man might die. It's perfect, I'm sure Metatron would think healing this man would bring him good publicity."
Castiel exchanges a quick glance with Gabriel, noting that his brother's eyes are sparkling.
"Awesome! Where are they exactly?"
"Right at the Presidio. W Pacific Avenue."
"I want all garrisons there, in position, ready for battle in five minutes." A pause. No one moves. "Go, go, go!"
Hashmal takes off running while Castiel seeks out Hannah and Kemuel and then gathers his own garrison. It does take a little more than five minutes, but as soon as possible without wings of their own, the Heavenly Host has gathered in San Francisco.
Castiel spies Gabriel staring at a light blue house whose garden is separated from the Presidio by a concrete wall that is covered in ivy. When he hears Castiel approach, the corners of his mouth quirk into a smile.
"He's in here. We got him."
xXx
Alex keeps half an eye on Dean Winchester once they have found the archeological site, primarily because the man already has his blade out. The sight sends a shiver down her spine when she realizes the weapon has been around since the dawn of time and brought nothing but chaos and destruction upon those on the other end.
She thinks she can even make out the faint glow of the Mark underneath the layers of clothing, but it's probably just her imagination since there is no way the Mark can permeate the thick leather jacket Dean is wearing.
It's still early morning in Iran, too early for anyone to be at the excavation site yet there they are, about ten people bustling around inside a large tent near the river. All Alex can see is their shadows against the tent walls when a figure passes in front of a bright lamp.
"Human or not?" Sam whispers.
"Demons." Dean's tone is sure – of course, he can see their true forms, Alex remembers quickly.
"Can you tell if they've found any gold yet?"
A pause, then Dean is shaking his head. "They ain't happy enough for that."
"We need a plan of action," Alex suggests and to her surprise it's Dean who answers first -
"I got a plan: action."
- seconds before he zaps away. Well.
By the time Sam and Alex push back the curtain that doubles as a door, one body is already lying in a pool of her own blood and everyone else has been thrown against the walls and is being held there by an invisible hand while Dean has his blade against one archeologist's throat.
"Is he always like that? Stab first, ask questions later?"
"Not always," Sam deflects, but his tone is defensive and Alex doesn't really believe him.
"Who're you working for?" Dean is asking the dark-skinned man. "Come on, I know you ain't human. And I know you ain't working for Crowley. So who's your master, huh?"
"You call Crowley your master, too?" the captive sneers. Alex could have told him that it would be the wrong move.
The only warning the man receives is the smirk Dean sends his way, then the blade presses forward and blood spills from the demon's throat. When he crumbles on the floor, Dean doesn't even bother wiping the blade.
"Anyone willing to sing?" None of the others says anything. "No takers? I was hoping for that."
Mere seconds later, two more demons fall at the hand of Dean's blade and another one ends up bent over the table, Dean's hand in his hair, hissing in pain as the Knight presses his cheek against the wood.
"You got something to say?"
The man says something in Arabic, but Alex doesn't need to know the language to tell it's nothing nice. Dean seems to come to the same conclusion and he buries the first blade in the man's spine, twisting it until the tent fills with his screams before his last breath leaves him.
"I think it's time to get a little creative with my questions, what d'you say?" Dean wonders with a smile.
Alex doubts Dean noticed how his eyes turned black.
xXx
"Gabriel, this plan is flawed."
"Do you have a better idea?"
"Well, we could wait until he is outside –"
"He'll fly off right away, if there's a human present, he might not dare."
"Gabriel –"
But his protests fall on deaf ears. The archangel rings the doorbell and Castiel resigns himself to his fate.
An elderly woman, probably the fireman's mother, opens. "Can I help you?"
"Hello Mrs, we're friends of Marv's," Gabriel introduces himself. "He asked us to pick him up. We're from the city, and glad to help where we can."
"Oh, come in, he's still with Mason, but he said he'll be finished soon."
So Castiel and Gabriel take a seat in the lady's living room and let her serve them tea until footsteps echo outside the living room and the woman gasps. Castiel looks up in time to see a tall, black man pull her into a hug.
Apparently Metatron healed him of his injuries and even the burns that are visible don't seem so severe anymore. Castiel's pulse spikes as he glimpses Metatron himself, the subject of their search, behind the mother and son. It is with great satisfaction that Castiel watches the angel's face fall when he catches sight of them in return.
"Oh, Marv, your friends are here to pick you up. I'm sure you're a busy man, but if you ever need anything, just let us know," the woman tells him, kissing Metatron's cheek.
"It is very nice of you, but you really needn't have come," Metatron tells them icily. His look turns into a glare when Gabriel clasps his shoulder in a friendly pat.
"Not at all, everything for our Marv! We haven't seen you in ages!"
They are all fake smiles and cheerful goodbyes until the door closes behind them. Gabriel maintains his grip on Metatron's shoulder and Castiel can feel the power emanating from the archangel.
"Here's what's gonna happen, Metatron," Gabriel growls as soon as they are behind the building and facing the Presidio again. Castiel can see their troops, posed for any escape attempt Metatron is undoubtedly going to mount.
"You're gonna follow us without protesting and then we're gonna take your grace, reverse the spell and in return, let you live."
Upon hearing that, the former god barks out a laugh. "Sure, then we'll meet once a week for tea while you tell me how you screw up this time. No, no, I don't think so!"
Castiel is ready, has seen it coming a mile off – Metatron yanks his shoulder out of Gabriel's grip, pushing Gabriel back with a bout of angelic energy. Castiel lets his angel blade fall out of his sleeve immediately and lunges at the angel, only to have Metatron push him to the side. Castiel manages to deflect, but his grace is wearing thin and it might have been enough to block the attack, but he has no illusions as to how he still is no match for Metatron.
"You should have killed me when you had the chance, Castiel," the angel jeers and shifts his stance, obviously split seconds away from flying off.
"Oh no, you don't!" Gabriel shouts and catches Metatron mid takeoff.
Castiel jumps onto his feet again. It is going to be a hard fight.
xXx
Alex feels like she is watching a natural catastrophe in slow motion, her stomach twisting with nausea while she can't tear her eyes away from Dean as he peels the ninth demon's skin off with the first blade, wielding it with almost surgical precision.
She has seen a lot of gruesome things in her twenty-two years as a daughter to Patrick Kahr, has witnessed exorcisms, hauntings gone violent, vampires, wendigos, werewolf attacks… yet never anything quite like a Knight of Hell torturing fellow demons.
Neither Sam nor she is objecting, however. They both know they need to get the upper hand, find out as much as possible about whoever is running this apocalyptic show, but so far none of Dean's victims have talked or given them anything useful at all.
Apart from the woman suffering at Dean's hands, only the group's leader is still alive, watching everything from his position up against the tent wall where Dean still has him pinned. The demon tries to hide it, yet the violence is getting to him – a flinch here, a grimace there, and now he is squeezing his eyes shut as Dean splits the woman's head in half, grey matter spilling over the sandy ground.
No matter how much gold the archeologists are hoping to find, Alex is pretty sure they'll high tail out of here as soon as they find the bloody crime scene Dean is filling with bodies.
"Now's your chance, boy-o." Dean's voice is calm, almost bored, as he approaches the last demon. "Tell me something and I might let you life."
"You're going to kill me anyway, Dean Winchester," the man snarls, his slight accent making his tone a bit more threatening as usual. "Why give you the satisfaction of telling you one word that could be useful?"
"We got ourselves a smart one here, don't we? So what's your price?"
"The Morningstar will reward me when he walks the earth again," he announces, his eyes darting across the tent towards Sam. "You will, won't you?"
Next to Alex, Sam growls, tension suddenly spilling over and he has closed the space with three long strides. "Lucifer won't get me, and he's not going to reward anyone. All he'll bring is chaos and mayhem."
"What you call 'mayhem' I call the natural order."
"Listen, you little bitch," Dean butts in again, "if you don't talk, I'll drop you a visit in Purgatory myself and make sure you'll never be able to close your eyes in peace again down there. Now come on and spill."
"I will never tell you anything. You might just kill me now."
Alex swallows as she watches a vein in Dean's temple pulse.
"Well then, as you wish."
The demon cries out in pain and blood starts oozing out of the deep gash in his chest. Dean continues like this, his blade leaving wounds behind whose outpour soaks the man's clothes. A few drops hit the ground, mixing with the sand.
Five minutes later, the demon has no blood left in his body, pain twisting his features but he cannot cry anymore since Dean has cut his vocal chords.
"Isn't that enough?" Alex ventures. "I mean, he can't say anything anyway, so why prolong it?"
She receives a glare in return while Sam avers his eyes, looking decidedly uncomfortable with her comment.
"Just kill him already, the regular crew will probably be back any minute now and I really don't want to land on Interpol's most wanted list, alright?"
Another glare; but the next thing Alex knows, Dean has buried his weapon deep inside the demon's chest.
"Satisfied?" he sneers, wiping the blade off on the shirt of another female corpse because it is one of the few that hasn't been painted crimson.
Alex doesn't dignify that with a response.
"Alright, let's get the fuck outta dodge." With that, Dean grabs both Sam and Alex by their shoulders and teleports them back to Kansas.
xXx
Castiel does his best to keep up with Gabriel and Metatron, who aren't holding back in the least even though they are in the middle of a highly populated area. He faintly wonders what explanation the government will spin for two celestial beings having it out in San Francisco's Presidio in the middle of the day, yet cannot dwell on it. He is far too occupied with coordinating his troops since of course Metatron's supporters have caught up with recent developments and have drawn their angel blades.
Castiel himself is engaged with a tall, Hispanic fellow who he believes is called Zadkiel and fled prosecution after Metatron's rule ended. He is a good warrior and Castiel will be sad to see him spend the rest of time in Heaven's prison, yet they cannot risk leaving a potential traitor in their midst.
"You're getting slow, Castiel," Zadkiel taunts him, shooting another jet of angelic energy his way that Castiel sidesteps in order to save what little is left of the stolen grace.
He can feel the remnants of it evaporating quickly and the thought that he might not be able to return to Heaven in the aftermath of today's altercation makes him fight with renewed vigor in order to end it more quickly.
His chance comes when Zadkiel miscalculates and looses his balance after aiming to stab Castiel in the heart with his blade only to have Castiel avoid the fatal blow. He moves without hesitation, brings his own weapon up and rams it into Zadkiel's chin. The vessel smokes out too quickly for Castiel to salvage any of Zadkiel's grace.
"You are loosing a step or two, Castiel."
He whirls around and finds himself face-to-face with Metatron. His eyes dart around, hoping to catch sight of Gabriel – he wouldn't leave the angel out of his sight unless…
"Oh yes, your dear friend is currently exploring the depth of San Francisco Bay. I do hope he can swim."
Castiel tighten the grip around his angel blade. "Surrender now, Metatron, or I will cut you down."
"Oh, I'm so scared!" Metatron coos, throwing his hands up in mock-terror before his expression sobers up. "About as scared I was of your puny little human. Though he's not so human anymore, is he? I'm not surprised you're still loyal to him, but my followers were quite vocal in their criticism. Complained that Gabriel knew and didn't do anything."
"Leave Dean out of this," Castiel growls, feeling what he has come to know as anger ignite in the pit of his stomach.
"Or what? What will you do, oh mighty Castiel?"
"End you like I should have done months ago."
"Having relations with a demon really gave you some bite, I must say!" Castiel tries to keep his face blank but some of the surprise must have shown on his face, for Metatron's grin widens. "Oh, so I am right? I always figured you two would dance the vertical tango, to use one of the less graphic metaphors that present themselves, but now that the hunter has turned into the very thing he used to hunt, I was not as sure anymore. But my, my, Castiel, aren't you a dirty little angel?"
"Enough!" Castiel bellows, lunging forward but Metatron deflects without major difficulty.
This tells him one thing, at least: Metatron might still be powerful, but somehow he cannot use his wings anymore or he would have just now.
"Look at the life in you! The spite! Love suits you, Castiel. Too bad you won't be reunited with your darling after I kill you. There is no way from Heaven to purgatory, my friend."
"I am not your friend."
"Excuse the figure of speech."
"Better yet: Shut up entirely," Castiel snaps, passing his blade from one hand to the other.
"You mean we should just get this showdown over with? As you wish. I shall enjoy killing you."
And so it begins.
Castiel manages to hold his ground for a long time, considering the power difference between him and his opponent, yet soon he realizes that his grace will run out before the fight is over and he has no idea how long – if at all – he will hold up against an angel at half-power in his human form.
Also, for an angel whose vessel is a bit on the heavier side, Metatron is incredibly agile and fast. Castiel tried to get the better of him through hand-to-hand combat when they both lost their blades for a moment, but no such luck.
Their blades are back in their hands now, metallic sounds filling the air when they crash together.
A battle cry sounds to their right and they turn to see Hashmal storm at them, blade raised yet Metatron merely stretches out his hand and pushes the angel back, sending him flying through the air until he crashes into the ground.
"Tsk, tsk, how stupid your minions are, Castiel," he mocks, but that moment of reprieve is enough for Castiel to gather all his strength and lunge at Metatron, sending them both to the ground.
Castiel rolls off and instinctively raises a shield to protect him from Metatron's next bout of energy, which comes, is absorbed by the shield and –
He gasps for breath, a brief flash of pain coursing through his body and leaving him empty.
One moment later, Castiel is lying on his back in the grass, Metatron kneeling over him, keeping him there with a knee on his stomach.
"You were a worthy opponent," Metatron sneers. "Well. Almost."
Then he raises his angel blade over his head and Castiel knows beyond the shadow of a doubt that this is it, this is the end and he tries to remember the last thing he said to Dean and how he will never see the hunter again.
A sudden scream tears him out of his thoughts and draws his eyes to the angel blade in Metatron's hand – it is glowing, burning hot apparently, if the smell of charred skin is any indication. Castiel's eyes widen as he seizes the chance and sits up, wrestles the blade out of Metatron's grip and flips them over, holding the surprisingly cool weapon against the angel's throat.
"Game over, douchebag," Castiel growls, just as he notices Gabriel in the corner of his eye.
It is done. They have Metatron. They can re-open Heaven.
And Castiel won't be able to return.
xXx
End Notes: Wohoooooo, I loved this chapter! I hope you did, too :) I live off reviews, so don't be shy?
Next chapter will be up soon, I promise. I'll stick a post-it next to my laptop. After that one, though, I'll be posting as I write, so depending on RL it might take a week or to between updates.
And I hope you all enjoyed the new episode as much as I did :D