Fallen
Book 1: Angels, Angels, Everywhere
Chapter 2
- The Watcher -
Sam yawned, covering his hand briefly with his mouth. He couldn't remember a time when he had been so tired, though he suspected it was probably right after Jessica's death. Nightmares of how she had died had plagued his mind in the months after the event, and he had struggled to sleep. Now, he struggled to sleep for a different reason. When he closed his eyes and let himself relax, Lucifer had a habit of showing up. Not many people could truthfully say that Satan talked to them in their sleep, but Sam was one of the unfortunate few. The most beloved son of God was persistent, if nothing else.
He knew that Dean had trouble sleeping, though for different reasons. When Dean slept, angels entered his dreams, and tried to talk him into becoming Michael's vessel. Sometimes, when Dean had fallen into fitful slumber yet Sam remained awake, he heard his elder brother talking in his sleep. It was only ever one word. 'No'. Dean said 'no' to Michael and his lackeys as often as Sam said 'no' to Lucifer. And yet everybody, on both sides, seemed to think that in the end, both brothers would change their minds. That both would say yes, and one would kill the other.
From his chair, he glanced at the form of the woman lying prone in the circle of fire. The holy oil would, allegedly, burn for eternity. The girl, or at least the angel inhabiting her body, had not moved or made any sound for three days. He, Dean and Bobby had been taking it in turns to watch over her, for any sign of wakefulness. So far, there had been none. Sam didn't know what to make of it. Any of it. She had saved their lives, but Castiel didn't trust her. She had given more answers to his questions than all of the other angels combined, and yet she was obviously holding a lot back. He just wished things could be easy for once.
He looked back down to his book. It was some old tome of Bobby's, relating to biblical omens. Not that it was of much use now. Thanks to Sam, the seals on Lucifer's prison had already been broken, and the fallen angel was walking the Earth with impunity. The Four Horsemen had been unleashed. The brothers had already stopped War, but that left Pestilence, Famine, and Death. Four years ago, Sam had been fighting ghosts and wendigos. Now he was trying to fight the apocalypse. It was almost overwhelming.
Briefly, he glanced up at the circle again, and jumped almost out of his skin. The angel was standing upright, her gaze focused on him. It made him shiver, but angels had a habit of doing that. He knew that most of them didn't like him or trust him, and considered him little more than a rabid animal to be put down. At least this angel was caged... for the moment. And she had saved their lives. He got the feeling that Avariel was different. Not really like the rest of them. But at the same time, he realised that that could be simple wishful thinking. He wanted to believe that they had at least one ally in this. One person looking out for them. Cas did his best, but he couldn't always be there. He had his own battles to fight.
"Hello, Sam," Avariel said.
She looked better, after three days of being comatose. The sigils on her cheeks were gone and the worst of her wounds seemed to have closed up. Her clothes were still blood-stained, though, and her face was pale beneath the dried crimson. He wondered, and not for the first time, how close to death she had come. Why had she risked everything to save he and Dean? It was a question he needed an answer to, but Dean and Bobby deserved the answer just as much. He turned to the door, to shout upstairs for them.
"Wait, Sam," she said, and he turned back to her. "Before you summon my jailors once more, there is something I want to say to you."
"And what's that?" he asked.
"That I am sorry. For all that has happened to you. For all that will happen to you." She took a step forward in her prison, a step closer to the holy fire. She looked more demon than angel, all dark-eyed and blood-soaked. "When one angel falls, it shames us all. That two hundred fell, in the shadow of Lucifer's betrayal... it is a crime beyond imagination. And what Azazel did to you, and to those other children..." Avariel shook her head. "Had I the power to stop it, I would have done so in a heartbeat. Perhaps I could have spared us all this pain."
"You're a Watcher, right?" he asked. He felt his hands closing into fists, the nails on his fingers biting into his palms. Avariel brought up things he wanted to repress, and accepted blame for the tragedies in his life. For years, he'd wanted somebody to punish. He'd wanted to be the one to shove the muzzle of the Colt against Azazel's head and pull the trigger. Revenge was beyond him, now. All he had left was his anger. "How could you not know what Azazel and the other grigori were up to? How could you not see them falling?"
She looked at the floor for a moment, before raising her eyes back to his face. "We were created to watch humanity. Nobody said 'watch other angels.' We had no reason to suspect our brothers capable of such treachery. Too late, we realised our mistake. But we could not correct it. Our actions can only be likened to... a computer program. A program cannot act outside of its parameters, and in the beginning, our parameters did not include being alert for signs of betrayal within the ranks. Things were different, back then."
"Different how?" he asked. He couldn't help the question that slipped from his mouth. What he knew about angels and Heaven came mostly from books, and a small amount from Cas. Now, he had in front of him somebody who seemed willing to answer questions. It was the opportunity of a lifetime.
"Well, for a start, God was still around," she said. "We had a leader, Samyaza, and it was he who received his orders directly from our Father. We had no need to pander to arch-angels, and we were afforded a place of respect in Heaven. At least, until the War, when Samyaza, Azazel, and the other sinners were cast out."
"Is that what you are, too?" he asked. "Just one more fallen angel?"
She shook her head. "I have not fallen, Sam. I may have been cast out from Heaven, but it is not the same thing. Not at all."
"What do you mean?"
"Angels fall when they disobey God. I have not disobeyed God. In fact, I have been carrying out his orders."
"God ordered you to rebel?" he asked.
Avarial shook her head, and smiled. "God ordered me... he ordered all of us... to love humans as we love him. And I do, Sam. To me... to all grigori... humanity is a precious thing. We have watched you for millennia. And when we saw what the apocalypse was doing to humanity, we decided to act. For the first time in several thousand years, the grigori were... mostly united. A traitorous few remain loyal to the arch-angels, of course, but I would rather not think of them. My point is, I have not rebelled against God. I never have. I am merely following his orders. Watch humanity, and love it. I may have been cast out of Heaven, but I have not fallen from God's favour, nor his grace."
"Well well. Look who's awake."
Sam turned, to find Dean and Bobby standing-—nd in the case of the latter, sitting-—n the doorway to the panic room. For a brief second, Sam felt a blush creep up his neck. Then he pushed away the guilt. He had done nothing wrong. Dean had wanted the woman questioned, and Sam was merely doing just that. It was obvious that she did not respond well to Dean's lack of respect, or Castiel's threats, so perhaps his own way was best.
"Dean. Bobby," said Avariel, nodding at them in turn. "I am pleased to see you both unharmed. I'd worried that perhaps, in my absence, you may have run off to Zachariah again."
"So... you didn't bleed to death," Dean said, stepping into the room.
"Indeed. My vessel is not yet completely recovered, but I believe we will both survive."
"Lucky us." Dean stopped outside the circle of fire, and folded his arms across his chest. Bobby wheeled himself into the room, and stopped a short distance away. "Now, maybe you could answer some more questions for us."
Avariel smiled. "Are you sure you want answers? The angel on your shoulder suggests you should not believe anything I say."
"Well, the angel on my shoulder isn't here right now. Humour me."
"As you wish."
Sam stepped back. He knew that, for Dean, this was a little more personal. Dean had been jerked around by angels ever since his return from Heaven, and he generally hated it when they took a personal interest in him. For the moment, he was more than willing to give his brother the floor.
"Tell me about your rebellion, for a start. Who, exactly, are you rebelling against? And why?"
"I thought that would have been obvious." Avariel paced around in her circular cell, her footsteps making sticky noises as she walked through the pool of her own blood. "We were rebelling against the apocalypse. Against the machinations of Michael, and Raphael."
"I get that. But why? If you angels win, it's paradise on Earth, right?"
Avariel cocked her head as she looked at Dean, as if confused by the question.
"What is paradise, Dean? What is paradise for Michael might be Hell for you. Do you really think that the angels will just relinquish the Earth to humans, if they manage to wrest control of it from the grip of the demons? Do you believe that Michael, or Raphael, would suddenly start caring about humanity? That they would treat humans as equals? When angels say 'paradise', they don't mean 'peace on Earth and good-will to all men'. They mean paradise for angels, which does not include bowing down to humans."
"And you have a problem with that?"
"Of course I have a problem with it, you idiot. I am a Watcher. I exist to watch humanity. What do you think my purpose will be if humans are no longer the majority on this mud-ball of a planet? What am I to do then? Start watching angels, instead? Do you have any idea how boring that is, Dean? Take it from someone who has experience in the matter; I would die of ennui if paradise was brought to Earth, and I had nothing to watch but angels."
"So you'd let humans continue to suffer demons and monsters, just to give meaning to your existence?"
"Dean," she sighed, shaking her head. "You don't understand. You can be safe, or you can be free. Whichever you accept, the other has to be sacrificed. If Michael wins, you'll have paradise on Earth. You'll live perfect, happy lives, with no disease or poverty or war. But you will be nothing but a subservient race to angels. And if Lucifer wins, you will be free to live a life of your choosing, but it will never be a long life, and out of petty jealousy, Lucifer would destroy all of humanity within a century."
"From where I'm sitting," Bobby said, "your version of black and white sounds more like black and black."
"I agree," said Avariel. "If Michael wins, humanity suffers. If Lucifer wins, humanity suffers. I would prefer to see humans come out on top of this one. So I am not for black or white, but for a shade or grey somewhere between the two. This world may not be perfect, and humans may be inherently flawed, but you can always choose to be better."
"From what Zachariah said," Sam spoke up, "it doesn't sound as if your rebellion is going very well at the moment."
"Quite the understatement, Sam," she replied. "If Zachariah can be believed-—nd I have no reason to doubt him on this matter-— am quite possibly all that is left of it."
"And it doesn't bother you?" Dean asked. "That your fellow rebels are being slaughtered whilst you're sitting here safe in our trap?" For a brief moment, Sam wondered if Dean had lost his mind. Then, he realised what his elder brother was doing. Dean was trying to make her angry. He and Bobby were going to try the 'good cop, bad cop' routine.
Avariel gave him a murderous glare. "Of course it bothers me. Do you know what it feels like, to be responsible for the deaths of your friends and family? All of them?"
"Then why come here, instead of fighting with them?" Castiel asked. Sam flinched at the angel's sudden and silent appearance. He just couldn't get used to the guy showing up like that. Was ringing a doorbell too much to ask for?
"Ahh, my jailor returns," said Avariel.
"Answer the question, grigori," Cas replied.
"To avert the apocalypse. We've just been over this. Didn't you get the memo?"
"How did you even find us?"
"Hello? Eyes of Heaven?"
"This is no time to be flippant, grigori," Cas growled. "If you found us, then the Watchers who remain loyal to the arch-angels may find us too. If the Enochian sigils on the bones of Sam and Dean have ceased to function, then we are all in danger and we must move swiftly."
"That's a good point," said Bobby. "I thought those markings were supposed to keep the boys safe?"
Avariel glared at both the angel and the man in the wheelchair.
"I thought you said you had answers?" Dean said to the girl. "If you ever want us to trust you, you're going to have to stop keeping secrets."
"Some secrets are mine to keep," she scowled. "But... you need not fear. The Enochian wardings on your ribs remain intact and functional. You are hidden from the sight of angels. Even hidden from the sight of Watchers."
"Then how did you find us, Avariel?" Sam asked her.
She scowled at him, then sighed. "I told you. I am the Eyes of Heaven."
"And that means... what, exactly?" asked Bobby.
Avariel folded her arms across her chest, and fixed him with an icy glare. The older man seemed completely unphased by it, though it sent a chill up Sam's spine.
"Avariel," said Dean. "I'm only going to say this once. Tell us how you found us, or I'm going to open that circle of fire and let Zachariah drag you back to Heaven kicking and screaming."
"Fine," she snapped. "I found you by watching somebody close to you. Somebody who was not protected by Enochian sigils. Somebody I was ordered to watch by the leader of the rebellion."
"Wait, what?" Sam said, stepping closer to the girl in the fire. "I thought you were the leader of the rebellion?"
"Not at first," she admitted. "That honour went to a great and wise grigori named Bartholomew. It was he who instructed me in my Watching, and he who first realised what the arch-angels intended. He encouraged us to resist passively. At first we Watched, and were somewhat sedentary in reporting on the activities of individuals on Earth."
"You had a go slow?" Dean asked.
"At first, yes. Then, at Bartholomew's recommendation, we began feeding false information back to the upper echelon. Through this dissemination were you Winchesters, your allies, and other influential humans, allowed to act without swift interference from Heaven."
"And what happened to this 'Bartholomew'?" said Bobby.
"Raphael obliterated him," Avariel said, quite factually. "And ordered the rest of us to return to our duties, or meet the same end."
"And you complied?"
"Initially. But the more I Watched, the more I became convinced that Bartholomew was correct. I restarted the rebellion. Only this time, we tried for a coup d'état. We failed, of course, betrayed by the few who remained loyal to our older brothers. Raphael has been hunting me for some time now."
"An entertaining tale," said Castiel. "But all you have done is provide a distraction, so that we would not realise you have not yet answered the question of how you found us."
"I see nothing gets past you, brother," Avariel smiled. The expression ended at her lips, completely failing to reach her deep blue eyes. "A pity you did not think to carve Enochian warding sigils into your own ribs."
There was a moment of silence as the implication sank in.
"You were watching me?" Castiel asked. He didn't sound as if he believed her claim.
"I told the boys I had experience in watching angels. The moment you were cut off from Heaven, Bartholomew told me to Watch you. He thought you were... interesting. I personally disagree. You lead a very boring existence. Well, apart from that incident in the brothel. That was very amusing."
Dean chuckled to himself, then stopped at a frosty glare from Cas.
"I don't believe you," said Cas to Avariel.
"Oh? How do you think you managed to evade capture so far? By skill and luck? No, brother, you're not that skilled, nor that lucky. From pretty much the moment I was instructed to Watch you, Bartholomew and I fed back false information to the arch-angels. We had them chasing phantoms of you all over the Earth. It was entertaining, and pleased us to thwart their plans for you."
"You're not... Watching me now, are you?"
"Maybe."
"I command you to cease it."
"You are in no position to command me to do anything, brother," Avariel said smugly. "And even if I wanted to stop-—hich I can guarantee you, I do— would not do that. You see, the moment a grigori selects an individual to Watch, no other grigori can Watch that individual. By my eyes alone are you kept safe from the sight of Raphael. The moment I stop Watching you, one of the loyalists will take over, and then you'll be pretty much screwed. Therefore, I recommend you say 'thank you', not only for saving the three of you from Zachariah, but for continuing to safeguard you from Raphael and Michael. Manners maketh man, after all."
There was no response from Cas, because Cas was no longer there. Whether he'd left for his own purposes or to get away from the grigori Sam did not know, but he could take a pretty good guess.
"So... you're Heaven's stalker, huh?" Dean asked the girl.
"I'm the only stalker on your side," she shrugged. "Just be thankful I'm not one of those creepy heavy-breathing-down-the-phone-line types."
"Thank God for small miracles."
Suddenly, a chilling thought struck Sam, turning his skin to goosebumps. "Avariel," he said, "you said that the loyalist Watchers can't see me, or Dean, and that you keep Cas from their sight. But what's to stop one of them finding us through Bobby?"
"I Watch him too," she replied.
"And what's to stop them finding us through you? I mean, you were watching Cas. What if one of them is Watching you?"
"I do not believe the arch-angels would allow it. Not now."
"Really? Why?"
"After our rebellion, the grigori loyal to Heaven will never be trusted with that much freedom again. Think about it. Long ago, grigori who Watched corrupt humans became corrupt in turn. And then Bartholomew and I, Watching Castiel, formed the rebellion. Does it not appear that grigori who Watch too intently can be influenced by those they are Watching? Like I said before; sometimes the abyss gazes back. The arch-angels will not risk the remaining grigori turning rebellious by Watching me."
"So," Dean said, "what was your plan? Other than come down here and save us from Zach, I mean. What happens now?"
"Well, I hadn't truly expected to survive my encounter with Zach," she said. "I hope to help you avert the apocalypse."
"You don't wanna try to get back to Heaven, kick-start your rebellion?"
"There is nothing to kick-start," she said factually. "Everybody is dead. I can cause more trouble for the arch-angels down here, than I can up there."
Upstairs, a phone rang, and Bobby cursed. "That'll be Rufus. He was looking into a job for me, I told him to call if he found anything. You boys are probably going to want to hear this."
"We'll talk later," Dean told Avariel.
"I look forward to it."
"C'mon, Sam," Dean said.
Sam lingered behind for a moment, watched by the angel. He wished he could know what she was thinking, and whether she truly was on their side. He saw no reason for her to lie, but he was a lot more skeptical of the claims of angels, now, than he had been a year ago. They lied when it suited them, and he didn't doubt that Avariel would lie if she thought it would get her something.
Turning, he followed his brother out of the room. For the moment, he had a job to do. Angels could wait.
o - o - o - o - o
In a tiny clearing in the forest was a small campfire, burning brightly in the darkness, filling the air with the homely and safe smell of burnt wood. To humans, the smell of fire had not held any fear since the moment they had learnt how to tame and control it. Almost all wild animals shied away from it, but not humans.
Beside this campfire sat one man. He held a stick over the fire, a marshmallow speared on the end of it. Leaning back against the fallen tree trunk which was supporting his back, he closed his eyes and let himself relax. It was rare for him to find a peaceful moment, and he liked to take advantage of them at every chance he got.
"Hello, Dean."
His eyes flew open and he jumped in fright. Standing next to the fire was Avariel, her clothes still bloody, her face still pale. She watched him, but made no move.
"How the hell did you get out of that trap?" he demanded.
"I didn't. I'm still in it. See?"
The scene blurred, and suddenly the campfire was not a campfire at all. It was a circle of burning holy oil, in which Avariel stood. When he pulled his long stick out of the flames, the marshmallow was gone.
"I'm dreaming," he said, as understanding dawned.
"Yes. How did your job go?"
"Oh, just fine." He tossed the stick away, but didn't stand up. But he did lean back against the trunk again, and cross his arms behind his head. Let her see him unafraid of her. "Pack of demons tormenting the townsfolk. You know how it is."
"I was worried about you."
"Really?" he asked, though the question was both skeptical and rhetorical.
"Yes. You have been back at Bobby's house for almost twenty-four hours, and yet you have not come to see me."
"I've been kinda tired." It was an understatement. He'd hacked and fought his way through over a dozen demons in the past four days. He and Sam had managed to exorcise a few, but not as many as he would have liked. Too many innocent men and women, forced by the demons controlling their bodies to do terrible things against their will, had died by his hand. And he could never make that right. Never.
"I understand. And I wish I could leave you to the peace of this dream." Her blues eyes were heated as she looked at him through the flames. "But I need you to come and see me, Dean. Right now. It's urgent. Lives are at stake."
"What do you mean?"
"Come and see me, Dean."
He was slammed out of his dream and his eyes opened to darkness. He took in several deep breaths of air, then reached for the nearby lamp switch. He was always jarred awake when angels talked to him in his dreams, but never with such force before. He felt as if he'd been dropped from a ten story building straight onto his back.
When he switched the light on, he fumbled for his phone, whilst on the other sofa Sam rubbed groggily at his eyes.
"Dean? What's going on?" Sam asked. He glanced at the clock. "It's two in the morning."
"I know. Wake Bobby. Avariel just came into my dream and told me she needs to speak to me urgently. I get the feeling it's important."
"What are you doing?"
"Calling for back-up, just in case this is a trap."
Sam disappeared towards Bobby's room, and Dean dialled Castiel's number. The very idea of calling an angel on a cellphone was laughable, but when he and Sam left Bobby's, it was the only way they had of contacting Cas. When the angel had hidden both Winchesters from the sight of angels, he had also hidden them from himself.
The line rang once, then clicked. "Yes?"
"Cas, I need you at Bobby's house, ASAP."
A gust of wind passed through the room, ruffling Dean's hair.
"I am here," Cas said, hanging up the phone. "What is so urgent?"
"Avariel was just in my dream," he said.
"Did she harm you?"
"What? It's possible for angels to harm me in my dreams?"
"I'm not sure. Who knows what grigori are capable of, when they take a human vessel?"
It was not a comforting thought. "No. She didn't harm me. But she did say she wanted to speak to me urgently. And I figured that whatever was so urgent that she needed to enter my dream and then slam me out of it with about five G-forces, must either be important, or—"
"A trap," Cas finished. "I will meet you down there and make sure it is safe."
There was a another brief gust of wind, and Cas was gone. "Damnit, Cas," Dean muttered to himself. The last thing he wanted was for his friend to walk into the trap intended for him, but when Cas decided on a course of action, he was gone before anybody could object.
"Dean?" He turned to find Bobby wheeling himself into the room, followed by Sam. The older man's hair was sticking up at different angles, and he looked odd without his cap for once. "Sam just gave me the brief of what happened. Are we assuming Avariel's set up some sort of trap for us?"
"I don't know," he admitted. "Cas is down there right now, but I'd rather not leave him alone with her, just in case." It was just as likely that Cas would attempt to kill the grigori, as she would attempt to kill him. Angels killing each other in Bobby's house was the last thing he needed right now.
Together they made their way down the stairs to the cellar, and towards the closed door of the panic room. Sam stepped forwards, to open it, and Dean almost sighed with relief. Avariel was still inside the circle of holy fire, and Castiel was merely watching her with suspicion.
"Dean." Avariel gave him an amused grin. "You called the cavalry? Do you fear to speak with me alone?"
He opened his mouth ready to retort, but then stopped. Avariel's eyes were no longer their usual cornflower blue. Instead, they were silver, like liquid mercury, and they seemed to shine from within. He was used to all sorts of weird crap from angels, but this was a whole new level of weird.
"What's wrong with your eyes?" he asked, stepping cautiously forwards to stand beside Cas.
"Nothing at all. You merely seem them as they truly are."
"So... grigori have silver eyes?"
"Yes. But that is not why I asked you to come here."
"Then why? What's so important that you needed to slam me out of my dream with enough force to wind me?"
"Sorry about that," she said, though she didn't sound sorry at all. "I've never dream-walked before. I may not have realised my own strength." She smiled, which just looked plain eerie with her eyes all silver and bright. "Next time, I will be gentle with you."
"There isn't going to be a next time. Tell me what you want or I'm going back to sleep."
"I have work for you," she said.
"Work? Is this a joke?"
"It is no joke. In fact, it's very serious. There is a town called Yellow Creek, in the state of Colorado. All who dwell there will be dead within a day, if you are not able to stop it."
Dean felt as if spiders were crawling under his skin. An entire town full of people? That could mean hundreds, or thousands. What could kill so many people in so short a time? A few of the usual suspects sprang to mind: Croatoan virus; Zombies; One of the Horsemen; Severely pissed off spirits.
"What's doing the killing?" Bobby asked, wheeling himself forward.
"Barghest," Avariel replied. "A pack of them. They will be there within hours."
"Barghest?" Sam asked. "As in... Black Dogs? The Wild Hunt?"
Avariel sighed and shook her head. "It is true that Black Dogs make up the bulk of what you call 'The Wild Hunt,' but barghests are not true Black Dogs as you know them."
"Then what are they?"
"Hellhounds," Castiel spoke up. He did not look pleased at the prospect.
"Yes and no," Avariel corrected. "They were hellhounds once, but they escaped from Hell, or were perhaps set free. No longer controlled by their demonic masters, they wandered the Earth, and were changed by it. They exist now as physical entities, though they retain some of their supernatural abilities; they are fast, strong, and do not tire. But unlike hellhounds, barghests can be seen by the eyes of any human. They do not require any special weapon to be killed; a knife will work whether it is iron or steel or silver, as will bullets, as long as you can either pierce a vital organ or cause enough damage to the body. Unfortunately, because they are no longer bound to Hell, they are unconcerned by salt, and cannot be stopped by a barrier of it."
"How many are in this pack?" Bobby asked.
"Nine."
"And you know his how?" said Castiel, suspicious as ever about the grigori's motives.
"Zachariah may have clipped my proverbial wings, brother, but I can still fly," she said, turning her silver eyes to the angel. He almost flinched under her gaze. Almost. "I was created by God to Watch, and only He can take away that power from me. Now, Sam, Dean, I suggest we move quickly. It won't be long until—"
"We?" Dean asked, cutting her off. "No way, sister. If you think I'm letting you out of that circle for even a second, you are sadly mistaken."
"Very well," she capitulated. "I will leave the killing of nine vicious slaughter-machines to you. Good luck, and try not to get your throat ripped out."
"Dean," Sam said, and he knew immediately what his brother was going to say. "We could probably use all the help we can get on this. The last time we tangled with hellhounds, it didn't end well."
"Sammy, no," Dean said firmly. "We'll check it out, and if what she says is true, we'll put a stop to it."
Sam turned futilely to Castiel for back-up. "Cas?"
"I am sorry, Sam," Cas said. "But I do not trust this grigori. I believe that freeing it would be a terrible mistake. I will take you and Dean to this town, and help you stop the barghests, if I can."
"Alright," Dean said. "Then it's a plan. Cas, give us ten minutes to pack some weapons, and then we'll go."
"I'll give you boys a hand," said Bobby. "I've got something you might want to take with you."
Castiel watched the Winchesters follow Bobby out of the room, then turned back to the grigori. The thing, in its blood-soaked vessel, made his own vessel's skin crawl. For millennia he had known that grigori were untrustworthy, but he'd rarely ever seen them. Very few angels, save for the arch-angels themselves, had reason to interact with the Watchers. Now, he wished he still had no reason to interact with one. Dean should have let him kill the thing whilst it was unconscious, but both boys had objected to that course of action. There was no surprise there; the grigori's vessel was an attractive and innocent young woman. Had the vessel been a toothless, warty old spinster, it was likely the boys would not have objected as much. The grigori had probably known that, and chosen its vessel accordingly, further proving that it was more than capable of manipulating those around it.
The grigori merely watched him silently, and he found himself wishing its eyes would turn back to blue. The unearthly silver colour reminded him that he, too, was not beyond the grigori's sight. The thought that it had been watching him for months was not a pleasant one.
"There is something else you should know, brother," it spoke up, in a soft, low voice.
"I'm listening."
"The barghests. Salt does not bother them, but they do not care for running water, and will ford a river only under extreme duress. If they aren't pushed into crossing it, they will try to find a way around it."
He watched the grigori warily. There was no way of telling if it was lying, though he could see no reason for it to lie about this.
"You're not even going to thank me, are you?" it asked.
"No. I don't trust you," he told it, not for the first time.
"You should. You will like me more as a friend than an enemy. Zachariah learned that the hard way."
"Cas! You ready to go?" Dean shouted down the stairs.
"Castiel," said the grigori. "You must protect the boys. There is a way of stopping the apocalypse, but we will need their help to do it."
"Nothing will happen to them," he replied. Then he teleported to the Winchesters.
- o -