Chapter 3 - The Nature of Our Wrongs
When they walked into the library, Bobby was sitting at the table, and he was alone.
"Where's Cas?" Dean asked him.
"Gone," Bobby said shortly.
Gail rushed up to him, panicked. "What do you mean, Bobby? What did you do?"
Bobby regarded her calmly. "We had a good, long talk, and he decided it was best for him to just disappear for a while."
Gail was livid. "He decided, or YOU decided?" she asked him angrily.
"It was ultimately his decision, but let's just say I didn't disagree," Bobby replied.
She turned on Sam and Dean. "Did you guys put him up to this?"
"No," Sam replied, but he looked at Bobby gratefully. This was the best news he'd heard in a long time. Now they wouldn't have to worry about Gail's safety any more.
But she was frantic. Never mind that she'd been worrying about what to do about Cas herself. She hadn't wanted him gone, she'd just wanted...what, exactly? Like always, she'd wanted to have her cake and eat it, too. She wanted a loving relationship with him, but she didn't want the pain, or the blood. But that was impossible with the way he was now, wasn't it? Damn Oliver. Oh, he'd cooperate, all right.
And damn Bobby, too. She didn't care what he was saying; he'd driven Cas away, she knew it. "Where did he go?" she asked him.
Bobby shrugged. "Far away. He left a note for you." He reached into his pocket and handed it to Gail.
She grabbed it from his hand and ripped open the envelope. His note was brief. He loved her, and he was leaving her in order to prove it. He couldn't hurt her anymore and be able to continue to live with himself. He was taking his cell phone with him, but please call only if there was an emergency, or if the cure was obtained. Otherwise, he needed to be alone, to think about what he should do next.
Gail looked at Bobby, dismayed. "You did this," she said to him.
Bobby had been determined not to lose his temper with her, but it was difficult. Cas had finally stepped up and done the right thing, and if Bobby had given him the push to begin with, so what?
"Take a look in the mirror, Gail, and then come back and tell me that this isn't the best thing all around," Bobby said, staring directly into her eyes. They were very dark now. Bobby knew she was upset, but it hurt him to see those eyes. She wasn't much better off than Cas was right now. But at least she hadn't turned on any of them. Yet. He'd have to tell Sam and Dean to be very careful now.
Gail was beyond frustrated. She knew Bobby was right, and that just made it all the more maddening. But she couldn't stand to think of Cas out there somewhere, all alone. She knew he swung back and forth as far as moods went, but he had obviously been good Cas when he'd left, judging by the tone of remorse and sadness in his note. But what would happen when the Demon took over again? What would he do then? And if he did something bad, would Castiel rise up then and prompt him to kill himself out of guilt?
She looked at the men. "If anything happens to him, I'll never forgive any of you," she said bitterly, and then she stalked down the hall to the bedroom, slamming the door closed behind her. She looked down at the floor. Cas's clothes were gone. So it was really true. A part of her had been hoping that Bobby had been lying to her, maybe just to smarten her up a bit. Well, she didn't need that from him. Gail knew very well what was going on. But none of those guys understood how she and Cas felt about each other. Yes, some of the stuff that had happened between them was terrible, but he was her life. That was why she had sacrificed so much of herself for him, and for the cure. And there was no way she could stop now. She was damn well going to cure him or die trying. And if she did, what would it matter? She had no life without him, anyway.
She looked at the bed and saw that Sam had folded her clothes neatly and put them on the bed, which was freshly made with clean sheets. All that was missing was the mint on the pillows. Gail smirked. How very hospitable of him. Too bad she couldn't stay.
She moved to the bed and grabbed her clothes, throwing them into the now-empty suitcase. Then she looked around the room. Had she forgotten anything? Then she noticed: Her photo was missing. What the hell? She looked on the floor, under the bed, everywhere. But it was gone. Had Sam taken it when he'd been in here earlier? No; why would he do that? Had Cas taken it?
Well, she had no time to worry about that right now. She had to get out of here before one of them came to get her. The Devil's Trap was still sprung, but she'd seen the way that Bobby had been looking at her, and she knew that it wouldn't be for long.
So Gail closed the suitcase and grabbed it, winking herself out of the bunker.
Sam had wanted to go after Gail right away, but Dean had shaken his head, putting his hand on Sam's arm. "Let her cool off, Sammy," Dean said. He'd seen her eyes darken, and Dean remembered how he'd felt when that had happened to him. When he'd been a Demon and had been that pissed off, he had beaten the crap out of some guys, just on general principles. He didn't really believe that Gail would be violent, though; she didn't seem the type. But she had a sharp tongue on her at times, even at the best of times, and she could say some things that might really hurt Sam. Lord knew Dean had done the same thing to his brother when he had been a Demon. It was really easy to hurt someone who loved you with some well-chosen words.
So he got himself and Sam a beer, and they had sat down to talk with Bobby. But Bobby was silent, unresponsive. He was thinking about the conversation he'd had with Cas.
Once Bobby had pointed out a few home truths to Cas, Cas had pretty much taken the ball and run with it. He told Bobby he would leave, for Gail's sake. But first, he wanted to make his full confession, and since Bobby was God, there would never be a better opportunity, or a better audience. They both had smiled at that, and Bobby had been impressed by Cas's newfound ability to fight off the Demon in him, at least for long enough to have this conversation. But then again, he shouldn't have been that surprised. He'd known Cas to be a fighter from way back, and though most of the fights he'd been in had involved external forces, this fight was no less deadly.
So he'd heard Cas's confession, and it was a good thing Bobby wasn't a priest, or he would have had a stroke. Cas told Bobby about every bad thing he had ever done, going way back. Bobby had been there for some of it, but he'd had no idea. Cas told Bobby about how brutal he'd been during the Angel wars, and about all of the terrible things he'd done with Jason at the time. Metatron hadn't had to infect him with the Seven Sins; Cas already had them, in spades. Maybe he was bipolar or something, Cas had joked weakly. He hated himself, yet he'd had excessive bouts of pride, and of vanity. When Gail looked at him with love and admiration, he felt like he was invincible. Not that she'd looked at him like that in a while, he'd said ruefully. But the day that he had been God, Castiel had relished being a hero to all of his friends. He'd soaked up all of their looks of reverence and awe, and he had run around giving them all presents, as if he were the only one who could. But his motives had been selfish, and he had simply been trying to buy their love. He'd given Sam and Dean and Frank all that money to be a big shot, and to receive their thanks and looks of gratitude. He'd been nice to Ethan to buy his goodwill. And he'd brought Frank back for Gail, knowing she would be eternally in his debt for it. Then he'd given them that house so they could both live in comfort, but now he had turned it into a house of horrors for her, injecting her with his diseased blood and brutalizing her there.
Cas told Bobby about their trip with Crowley to see Metatron and Lucifer, and he held nothing back. Bobby'd had quite a bit of experience there himself, but he was still appalled at what Cas was telling him. Cas was bitter, telling Bobby how the men had come down on him, saying that their Father had given him everything, while they'd had nothing. Calling him God's Golden Boy. He laughed derisively. He didn't know where the hell they'd gotten that from. He'd never felt that way. Never. Why the hell would they ever envy someone like him? They should try BEING him sometime. Cas envied guys like Sam and Dean, and Bobby. He wished he could be like them. He even envied Crowley, to a certain extent. Crowley just did whatever he wanted, and he didn't give a damn how people felt about it. So Cas had tried that, but it never worked out for him. Look how he'd been with Gail. As soon as he'd discovered that he'd been able to make love to her in the human way, he'd gone nuts, dragging her off to bed at every opportunity. And he was still doing it. She let him, and he supposed she even enjoyed it at times, but he just pushed and pushed her, and that was when the marks and the blood had started to appear. Those were the Demon's fault, but he'd known what was inside of him, and yet he'd proceeded anyway. He didn't want to embarrass Bobby, and he really didn't want to embarrass Gail, but he had to confess that they'd had some very good times in that bedroom when there had been no violence involved. Bobby had shrugged uncomfortably. He really didn't like hearing about that, but he recognized Cas's need to unburden himself, so Bobby had remained silent.
But Cas had felt so angry for much of the time, as well. Like Gail, he'd never gotten over the tribunal and the injustices he'd suffered there. He'd tried to deal with the board in the honourable way, but the Demon that had been growing inside of him even then had wanted more. So when Castiel had been presented with the opportunity to kill Lanister and Alexander, and to torture Xavier, he had taken it eagerly. That, to him, was real justice. After all, they had tortured him and Gail, and then they had killed Cas. Wasn't that only fair, then? Why the hell should Cas always be the one to turn the other cheek? That was how anyone would feel, wasn't it? Nobody understood what that had been like. Maybe Gail, but that was it. Sam and Dean hadn't been there. Sometimes Cas just wanted to lash out and hurt someone, and it didn't seem to matter who was on the other side of the blade at the time. Angels, Demons, humans; it was all the same. He had been in pain for most of his existence. Why should he not share the wealth?
But then Gail had led him to Lucifer's cage, and then she had led him into the bedroom and handed him that razor blade. And he had used it on her, trying to pass off his need to inflict pain and to see blood as an act of love. But, as usual, Gail had been the smartest one of them all. She had sacrificed herself so Cas would not hurt Sam and Dean. When they had returned from Hell and Cas had looked at Dean, his first impulse had been to kill Dean. He could have easily killed both brothers then, and Frank too, and taken Gail away from there. She'd sensed that, he was sure, so she'd sent him to wait for her in the bedroom, the one place he wanted to be with her the most. But when he'd turned his bloodlust on her, and his head had then cleared enough to see the result, Cas had finally gotten that wake-up call that nothing and no one else had been able to give him. And now Bobby was reinforcing the lesson.
There were only two things that Cas didn't say to Bobby. He didn't tell him about the confession about his Father that he had made at the cage. Bobby may be God now, and Castiel knew he was his friend, but that had been just between the Originals, and there it would stay. And Cas didn't tell Bobby about the blood bond. Bobby wouldn't understand. Cas was afraid that Bobby had been judging Gail for her part in all of this, and he didn't want Bobby to think less of her. If Cas told Bobby that Gail now shared that bond with Crowley as much as she shared it with Castiel, Bobby would freak out. Truthfully, Cas was concerned about that too; he had been ever since they'd gone to Lucifer's cage. And that was the kicker, and the main reason that Cas had to leave now: he was afraid that if he didn't, the Demon would make him get a syringe and inject her again and again, to wipe Crowley out of her system altogether, and to tie her irrevocably to Cas himself.
So he'd written the note for Gail and given it to Bobby, then packed his clothes, borrowing a bag from Dean's room. He'd looked at Gail's photo and, after a moment's deliberation, he'd picked it up and put it in his shirt pocket. He hoped she wouldn't mind too much, but he had to have it with him. Cas would look at it whenever he needed the strength to stay away from her. He had the feeling he'd be looking at it a lot.
Then he'd shaken Bobby's hand and winked out of the bunker.
Bobby was thinking about all of that now, and as angry as he had been at Cas, Bobby had to hand it to the guy. When the chips were down, Cas had done the right thing, the honourable thing, even with all that Demon juice in his veins. Bobby was mostly with Dean on this one. Anything reasonable that Gail needed his help with to bring about the cure, Bobby would be willing to do. But no more Demon blood, and no more Crowley. Enough was enough.
"Bobby!" Dean shouted, breaking him out of his reverie.
"Sorry, Dean, what were you saying?" Bobby asked him.
Dean was frowning. "I was saying, how are we going to figure out the cure when Oliver won't help us anymore? Ideas?"
Bobby shook his head. "I don't know, Dean. I don't know anything about this so-called Netherworld. Another thing on the long list of stuff God didn't tell me about." If Cas had shared that particular confession with Bobby, Bobby would have been able to relate. The new God was frequently angry with the original God when he thought about all the things that God had left him in the dark about. If He hadn't trusted Bobby, why had he offered him the job in the first place? Just like that stuff about the Originals. Bobby still knew next to nothing about that subject, and the only one who was around was Gail, now that Cas had left.
Gail! "We'd better get Gail out here, find out how she's doing," Bobby said to the brothers. A sudden image of his mother flashed into Bobby's head. When she'd realized her husband was gone, she had killed herself. And while Bobby didn't think it was as bad as all that, he knew how upset Gail must be feeling right now. Besides, any discussion of the cure needed to include her.
The three men rushed to the room and opened the door, after getting no response when they had knocked and shouted her name. But Gail was gone.
She went back to the house first, to drop off the suitcase. Then she looked around the bedroom for a moment. The rest of Cas's clothes were gone, and so was his cell phone. So he was planning on being away for a while, it looked like. She couldn't believe it. If she were to be honest with herself, there was a silver lining; maybe a couple of them. At least her injuries would be able to fully heal, now that she wasn't incurring any new ones. She was still in so much pain. And now they wouldn't have to worry about what to do with or about Cas while she was out doing what she had to do to get the cure. But the biggest part of her missed Cas so much it was a physical ache. Damn Bobby. If he hadn't gotten into Cas's head, they could have made it work somehow.
Gail needed to see Crowley. He'd helped her do so much already, and now she needed him again. She smiled when she remembered what he'd said to her when they had come out from their visit to the cage. Well, now she needed him to show a certain pseudo-psychic a bad time. If Oliver was scared at the mere idea of the Devil, let's see how he felt about a visit from the King of Hell himself, she thought.
She was still smiling as she appeared at the crossroads, thinking Crowley's name. He came right away, regarding her curiously.
"Castiel still being held prisoner?" he asked dryly.
"No," she said resentfully. "Bobby made him leave."
Crowley raised an eyebrow. "Where did he go?"
Gail let out a frustrated breath. "Who knows? I just hope he's OK." Then something occurred to her. "Can you see him? I seem to remember you telling us you could see us, if you tried to look."
Crowley frowned inwardly. He probably could too, if he wanted to. But did he really want to?
"Please," she said. "Can you try to look? I just want to make sure he's OK."
"All right, Gail," Crowley said to her. Then he stood still, opening up his mind. Finally, a picture emerged. Castiel was sitting on a patio in Paris, of all places. He had a glass of wine in front of him, but it lay untouched, and he had Gail's photo in his hands.
"He's OK," Crowley told her.
"That's it? 'He's OK'?" she said. "Where is he? What's he doing?"
Crowley was annoyed. "How the hell should I know?" He bloody well knew, but her persistence was irritating him. If she needed a crystal ball, why didn't she just get one? Did she summon Crowley here just to ask him that?
Gail could see that she was pissing him off, and that was no way to ask anyone for a favour, let alone Crowley. "I'm sorry," she said quickly. She stepped forward, touching his arm. "I was just worried about him, that's all."
Crowley looked at her, somewhat mollified. But he was still a bit ticked off. "Is that all you called me here for, then?"
"No," she said. "I was hoping to enlist your help again. Care to join me in a home invasion?"
Crowley smiled as she described what she had in mind. "Well, I don't usually approve of such strong-arm tactics," he joked, "but it might be kind of fun. I haven't scared any humans for a while now. I'd hate to get out of practice."
Gail made a face. "You do realize if we're successful, though, you'll have to see your mother again," she told him.
Crowley rolled his eyes, sighing. "Yes. I guess Angels aren't the only ones who have to make the bloody sacrifices."
Gail smiled. "She is a piece of work, isn't she?" Then her expression turned serious. "Thank you for this. I knew I could count on you."
Crowley felt proud. What a sweet thing for her to say. He was being her hero now, not the Winchesters, and especially not Castiel. His brother was in Europe, mooning over Gail, and who was here, helping her? Crowley was.
He lifted an eyebrow, looking at Gail speculatively. "How are you feeling, sweetheart?"
She knew what he was getting at. Why not be honest? "Like crap. Hurting all over. Trying to deal," she said.
"The standing offer still stands," he told her.
She looked at him for a moment. The King of Hell, tempting her with healing and relief from her pain. Should she take him up on it? "OK, I would appreciate that," she said, as he moved in closer. But she put her hand on his chest. "Nowhere too personal, though," she cautioned him.
"Wouldn't dream of it," he answered softly. But the truth was, he'd been secretly hoping.
He touched her neck and her arms and edged his hands under her top to heal her back and her stomach. But when his hands started to wander a little too far north, she stopped him.
"That'll have to be enough," she said, smiling faintly. "But, thanks, anyway."
He removed his hands from her immediately. "Hey, you can't blame a fellow for trying," he said, smirking.
Gail laughed. At least parts of her felt better now. But the only guy that was going to be touching the other parts had gone off somewhere now, presumably because he loved her so much. That was really messed up, when you thought about it. But such was her life now.
She took Crowley's hand. "Let's go scare the holy hell out of a human," she said.
But he frowned. "Wait just a minute," he said.
She looked at him. What was this, now? Was he going to back out on her? Or ask for something in return? This wasn't Mother Teresa's hand she was holding, after all.
"Do Moose and Squirrel know about this? Does Bobby?" he asked her.
"No," she said, making a face. "I didn't think they'd exactly approve. And I'm kind of AWOL at the moment."
"Will they be looking for you?" Crowley asked her.
Gail thought about that for a moment. "Yeah, they probably will. But if I'm not at the house, and I'm not answering my phone - "
He cut her off. "Bobby is God, sweetheart," he said. "So, unless you're in my Kingdom, he can pretty much see you anytime, anywhere."
Crap. She hadn't thought of that.
But Crowley was smiling. "However, as they say, there's an app for that," he told her.
She perked up. "Really? What's that?"
"One of the perks of being an Original is that when you team up with another Original, you can do extraordinary things," he told her. "You and I can generate enough power together to put a temporary shield around you so that Bobby can't see you."
"How do we do that?" Gail asked him curiously.
Crowley sighed. "You really haven't been taught very much, have you?"
"Well, I've had a lot more than school going on lately, in case you haven't noticed," she said tartly. He looked at her evenly. She'd done it again, she thought. Well, it was her own fault. Now she was beginning to understand Cas's anger issues a bit more; it seemed as if she was a lot more inclined to fly off the handle ever since she'd received that extra dose of Demon juice. No wonder every Demon she had ever met was a jerk. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to snap at you," she told Crowley, putting her hand on his arm again. "I've just been dealing with a lot lately."
Crowley couldn't believe it. She'd been the first one of them he could recall ever having said "Thank you", and now she had actually apologized to him, twice. And now she was apologizing for using a snarky tone with him, which was the only tone he had ever been used to hearing from any of them, anyway. He was so gob smacked that all he could say was, "I know you have."
They looked at each other for a moment, her hand still on his arm, almost as if they were friends. If they were, she would be the only one he had ever had. He smiled at her. "So, are you game, sweetheart?"
"I'm game," she responded, sighing. "How do we do it?"
"Give me your hands," Crowley said. She put out her hands and he took them in his own. If anyone had told Gail a year ago, or even a few months ago, that she would be standing at the crossroads, all alone, and voluntarily holding hands with the King of Hell, she would have laughed right in their face. But here she was now, doing it.
"Now, concentrate," he said to her. "Think shield-y thoughts." She gave him a look, and he laughed. "Imagine a pane of opaque glass," he continued, still smiling. Gail tried to picture what he was describing, and once she could see it in her mind's eye, she nodded. "Now picture standing behind it," he said. She did, and suddenly, a red glow emanated from his hands and joined with the golden glow from hers. Once the aura faded, Crowley let go of her hands and said, "That's it. Now Bobby's vision will be blurred, temporarily, every time he tries to look for you."
Wow. There really was something to this Originals stuff if that was the case, Gail thought. And she had no reason to believe that Crowley was lying to her in this instance. Why on earth would he want God spying on them? And if she felt a little tug of guilt, Gail pushed it aside. She was doing what she needed to do.
"Thanks," she said to Crowley. "Let's go."
He took her hand again, and she winked them to Oliver's house.
Cas had been sitting here for quite a while, just thinking, and looking at Gail's photo. He hadn't taken a single sip of the glass of wine he'd ordered; it had just seemed like the thing to do at a bistro in Paris. And he knew Gail liked the occasional glass of wine; even when she had been an Angel, she'd kept trying to drink it once in a while. Just one of the many quirks about her that he found endearing. So he supposed he'd also ordered it so he could look at it and the empty chair beside him and pretend that she would come back at any moment to sit in the chair, and pick up the glass of wine, smiling at him. Maybe he could pretend that they were back in Las Vegas and she'd gone to the washroom.
He'd always wanted to spend time in Europe, but Cas was finding that it was a lonely road so far. Every time he'd seen something wondrous, he would turn to comment on it, but there was no one there to tell. His hand felt empty without hers in it. He'd gotten so carried away with the physical part of their relationship that he'd forgotten how good her companionship was, too.
Cas had come here after leaving the bunker because he'd wanted to put a considerable amount of distance between them. It was irrational, he knew; he still had the ability to teleport anywhere he wanted at any time, and if he was going to stick to his resolve to stay away, it shouldn't matter where he was. But psychologically, he had thought it would make a difference. And he had always wanted to see some other parts of the world. But now that he was here, Cas didn't know what to do with himself. He felt sad and hollow, and his anger was starting to build, as well. The trouble was, he didn't know who to be angry at. He continued to harbour deep resentment in his heart towards God. His Father had been so full of words of love and praise for Castiel after the tribunal, yet He had set him up to be convicted and executed in the first place, and He had sent the King of Hell to put his breath into Castiel. If it hadn't been for God screwing around with Cas's life, as it seemed like He was always doing, none of this would be happening now. And why did his Father do it? Boredom? Pure entertainment? Who the hell knew?
Then there were the ex-board members. Even though Cas had exacted a measure of revenge on the three most objectionable members, it still wasn't enough. God may have let him go on trial, but it was the board who had voted to convict him and assess the ultimate penalty of death. He had supposedly been their Brother, and they had all served God together for years, but they had turned on him, and they had destroyed him. He knew they had never liked him, but Castiel had never dreamed that their hatred had run that deep. And why did they hate him so much? Because he had preferred Earth and the company of Dean and Sam and Gail to theirs? Well, was it any wonder?
And, while he was being honest with himself, Cas had to admit that a part of him resented Sam and Dean, as well. He knew it made no sense for him to be angry with them for not being there for him during the tribunal. They were humans; they could hardly have come up to Heaven, and he had been held prisoner there throughout the ordeal. But the anger and frustration was there, nonetheless. He had been there for them, helping them, so many times over the past few years, and when he had needed them the most, they hadn't been around. It was childish of him to feel that way, he knew, but he felt that way anyway.
He hated his Brother, too. Castiel had always disliked Crowley, of course, and for good reason; they had been actual brothers at the time of Creation, when Crowley was Cain and Castiel was Abel. And not only had his brother murdered him then, but he'd spent countless centuries trying to do it again. Wasn't once enough? So, Castiel hadn't started it, but he had spent all that time since opposing Crowley as adamantly as he could, and Crowley had spent all that time being an evil, scheming pain in his ass. Even when his Brother had ostensibly performed the only kind act in his entire existence by reviving Castiel after the execution, he had screwed Castiel in the end by getting cute about it. It was the Demon essence that Crowley had purposely put into Castiel that had been the proximate cause of the way he was now. Crowley had thought that he was being funny, but now no one was laughing.
And while he was making a list, Metatron was at or very near the top, as well. It was he who was the most to blame for the state Cas was in now. Metatron was the one who had added those extra ingredients to the potion that was forced down Castiel's throat at the cabin, and he had done it just out of sheer spite. Yes, they'd been enemies for years, but this particular trick of Metatron's had been the sneakiest, most cowardly, most underhanded thing he had ever done. If Castiel had been able to enter Lucifer's cage and then get back out, alive, he would have gone in there and stabbed Metatron again and again, just to get the rage out of his system. To say nothing of the fact that it was Metatron who had actually executed him in the first place.
So Cas had all this anger built up inside of him, and now he had no outlet for it. He had vowed to himself that he would try to stay away from Crowley, and from Hell. Violence begat violence, and he already had enough blood on his hands. And the last blood he'd had on his hands had come from the woman he loved. That had been it for him. Castiel had also promised himself that as long as he was on the Earth, no human would suffer violence at his hands.
He looked at the glass of wine again, then he looked at the photo one more time, touching Gail's face with his hand. What was he even doing here, without her? Saving her, that was what. He had to remember that.
Cas stashed the picture in his shirt pocket and left the patio. It was night now, and he walked through the streets aimlessly, lost in thought. He supposed he would move on, visit some other countries. At least he could see a few more sights while deciding what to do with himself.
A young man walking in the opposite direction bumped into Cas, hard. "Why don't you watch where you're going?" the youth yelled angrily.
"YOU bumped into ME," Cas said, quite reasonably.
"But the man shouted, "You wanna go?" He approached Cas, facing him.
Oh, Cas wanted to go, all right. He started to reach into his pocket for his blade. But then a sudden image of Gail popped into his head. She was laughing, saying he didn't have to whip out his blade for everything. That had been after the incident in Seattle. They'd been arguing, but once he'd followed her to the bar and pulled his blade on that obnoxious drunk man, she had laughed and forgiven him. But she had admonished him for his readiness to take his blade out at the slightest provocation, and it seemed that she was doing it now.
And she was right. It was just a bump. Cas stood down, but he gave the young man a glare. "You don't know how close you just came," Cas told him. Then he walked around the corner and winked out of Paris. The City of Lights felt a little too dark for him.
Gail and Crowley stood outside Oliver's house.
"How would you like to do this?" he asked her.
She smiled grimly. "I'll give him one more chance to cooperate. But I get the feeling we're going to have to scare the crap out of him, instead."
Crowley smiled back. "Now you're talking my language."
Gail walked up to the door and knocked. A moment later, she heard Oliver's voice on the other side, as if he'd been waiting for her to come back. And maybe he had; he was supposedly psychic, wasn't he?
"Go away," he told her. "I meant what I said."
"So did I," she replied. "If you care about your future, you'll let me in."
"Is that a threat?" he asked sharply.
"More like a promise," Gail said.
"You think I'm going to help you after you have the nerve to come here and threaten me?" Oliver said angrily.
"Actually, I do," Gail said, almost cheerfully. She looked at Crowley. "Looks like it's going to have to be the other way," she said to him.
Crowley grinned. He extended his hand and blasted open Oliver's front door, then he looked at Gail, giving her a bow. "Ladies first."
She walked into the house with Crowley right behind her. Oliver stood there, open-mouthed.
"Sorry about that, but I did knock first," Gail said to Oliver. "And now I'd like you to meet a friend of mine. King of Hell, Oliver. Oliver, King of Hell," she said, smiling.
"Get out of my house," Oliver gasped.
"Can't do that, Oliver. Sorry," Gail said, shaking her head. "You had the chance to help me the easy way; now I'm afraid it'll have to be the hard way."
Crowley stepped closer to Oliver, inspecting his face. "So, you're an Atheist who believes in Demons. We could use more like you on our team," he said, smirking.
Oliver made the sign of the cross, and Crowley gave him a look, then looked at Gail. "Isn't it amazing how they suddenly believe when presented with the terrifying alternative?" he said casually.
Then Oliver reached into his pocket and pulled out a vial of holy water. "Leave my house, or I'll pour this on you," he said to Crowley.
"Really?" Crowley said to him. "I'm shaking from fear," he said sarcastically. "In fact, allow me." He grabbed the vial from Oliver's hand, uncapped it, and drank it down, handing back the empty vial. Then Crowley patted his stomach.
Oliver's eyes widened. "Why isn't that burning you?" he asked Crowley, astonished.
"King of Hell," Crowley said mildly. "Though I might need an antacid later."
Gail was amused, but she wanted to get down to business. "So, Oliver, what do you say? Seance time?" she asked him.
He looked at both of them. "Why should I help you? You're the epitome of evil," he said to Crowley, "and you - " he looked at Gail, shaking his head. "You're a succubus."
"I'm what kind of bus?" she quipped, and Crowley had to turn his head to keep from laughing. He wished she hadn't done that; he was trying to be scary here. If he and Castiel were on speaking terms, they could definitely relate on this subject.
But Crowley was getting impatient too, and this guy was starting to get on his nerves. He grabbed Oliver by the shoulder, peering closely at his face.
"You are going to hold that seance, and if you still refuse, I will save my best torture for you when you die. Which may be any minute now," he told Oliver. Crowley looked at Gail. "Do you prefer your medium rare, or well done?" He snapped his fingers and a small ball of flame appeared, suspended in front of Oliver's face.
Oliver looked terrified, but Gail was laughing. "You did not just say that," she said to Crowley, and he shrugged. "Your choice," Crowley said to Oliver calmly. "You're an Atheist; you'll be in my Kingdom, and you'll be there for eternity." He waved his finger, making the ball of flame bounce in front of Oliver's eyes.
"All right!" Oliver shouted. "All right, I'll help you!"
Crowley snapped his fingers again, and the ball of flame disappeared. "There, now, was that so hard?" he said pleasantly.
Cas was in Spain now, and he was at another patio. He wasn't sure why he kept gravitating towards patios; he didn't want a drink, and he knew that all he would do once he sat down was take Gail's photo out of his pocket and stare at it. But he couldn't seem to help himself. There wasn't much else to do now, anyway. It was nighttime, and all of the tourist attractions would be closed.
A young man sitting at the table next to him said, "Hey."
Cas looked up from the photo. "Yes?" he said.
"You wanna see something cool?" the man said to him. He had a laptop computer in front of him on the table, and he motioned to it.
Cas looked at the man warily. Then he rose suddenly, knocking over the chair next to him in his haste. He didn't know why, but he felt panicked just looking at this guy. The man was beckoning Cas to his table, wanting to show him something on the computer, and Cas wanted no part of him. Cas stuffed the photo in his pocket and ran from the cafe.
Cas had gotten a couple of blocks away when he slowed down to a walk. What had THAT been all about? He had no idea. What was going on with him? Castiel had wanted to see Europe for centuries, but now that he was here, everything just seemed weird; wrong, somehow.
He continued to walk down the streets, lost in thought. Maybe he would move on in the morning, try to see some sights. Maybe the sun would bring a fresh perspective.
Oliver had lit the candle and drawn the drapes, and now he came back to sit at the table. He looked from Gail to Crowley and back again. He really didn't want to sit here and hold hands with these two, but he supposed he had no choice.
Crowley smiled at Oliver, seeing the medium's revulsion at the prospect. "I promise not to flirt, too much," Crowley quipped.
Gail grabbed Crowley's hand on one side and Oliver's hand on the other. She was anxious to get things going, and she gave Crowley a look, trying the non-verbal communication she shared with his Brother. You've had your fun; let's just get on with it. He raised an eyebrow to her. It was unclear to Gail whether he'd gotten her message, but he stopped smiling, at least.
Oliver called on Rowena, and the candle snuffed out almost immediately, plunging the room into darkness. A moment later, the pink ball of light appeared above the table.
"My dear, dear son," Rowena said, smiling. "You came to see me."
She was standing behind Crowley, and she stroked his cheek with the back of her hand. He didn't jump, as Dean had, but he did frown. If his mother was trying to get a reaction out of him, she'd have to do a lot better than that.
"Is it just the two of you, then?" Rowena asked, still smiling. "What a cute couple you make. I always thought so." She put her hands on Crowley's shoulders. "Why could you not make it work with this one?" she cooed to him. "Oh. I know," she taunted, answering her own question. She hadn't really expected him to answer anyway. "It's because Castiel is a much better man than you are." Rowena looked at Gail then. "Or, is he, now?"
Gail ignored Rowena's comment; or at least, she tried to. But Crowley was seething. His mother had been belittling him from the day that she had shown up in his den that day out of the blue, claiming that she wanted to be part of his life. But all she had ever done was plot against him, and when Gail had beheaded his mother, she had done him the biggest favour of his existence. Which was probably also a big part of why Crowley had been willing to accompany Gail here today.
"No one to insult in the Netherworld, Mother?" Crowley said in a clipped tone.
"No one as much fun as you, Fergus," she retorted.
Crowley opened his mouth to speak again, to really tell her off, but Gail broke in: "We got the essences," she told Rowena.
"You did?" Rowena said. She was surprised. Quite frankly, she'd thought that Gail would be coming back empty, asking for more ingredients while she tried to think of a way to obtain that one. "And how did you accomplish that, my pet?" Rowena asked Gail.
Gail frowned. "Let's just say it was accomplished." She wasn't about to share any of the horrible details with Rowena, and especially not in front of Oliver. If the medium thought he was horrified now, he'd probably have a heart attack if he heard about Lucifer's cage in Hell. Gail almost smiled at the thought.
Rowena had moved to stand behind Oliver now, so she could look at both Crowley's and Gail's faces. She looked from Gail to her son and then back again. "So why is it the two of you are here today? Where is my eye candy?" she asked them.
"Sam and Dean couldn't make it today," Gail told her.
"Or is it that you didn't invite them?" Rowena shot back. She eyed them speculatively. "Could it be that the two of you wanted to come here alone?" She pretended to sniff the air. "Do I detect a hint of a blood bond, maybe?"
Gail was startled, but when she looked at Crowley's face, she nearly laughed out loud. His mouth had dropped open, and he looked shocked. Now he knew how they frequently felt when he himself imparted information that he should have no business knowing.
"What do you know about blood bonds?" Crowley asked Rowena suspiciously. She was merely a witch, or at least she had been, in life. How on earth could she know about the blood bond between Originals?
Rowena was smiling slightly. "You wouldn't believe what even a reasonably attractive woman can find out in the Netherworld. There are an awful lot of men here, and most of them seem starved for a little female companionship." And while that was certainly true, and Rowena had been able to glean quite a bit of interesting information, she was sick of the Netherworld. Every man here was an old-school misogynist who thought that females were good for one thing only. Rowena had flirted her way through most of those beings with ease, but she was tired of their attitudes. She was so much more than that, and she needed to get back to the land of the living. Gail's cure was her gateway, and Rowena herself was eager to get things going. But she'd had to give the both of them a bit of a hard time first; it was in her nature, after all, and if she didn't, they might get suspicious. And she did find it very interesting that Gail and her son now shared a blood bond. She hadn't known for sure that they did until Fergus confirmed her suspicions by his reaction. How entertaining, she thought. Maybe that was something she could exploit.
But for now, on to the business at hand. She looked at Gail. "Well, since you've gone to so much effort to see me today, and since you have to suffer such objectionable companionship, this time I'll give you two ingredients for the price of one. The blood of a God, and the sword of God. They represent the Contrary Virtues to the Seven Sins: Humility in place of Pride, and Kindness, in place of Envy."
"So, the blood and the sword of God," Gail repeated, wrinkling her brow.
Rowena frowned. "I do wish you'd listen, dearie. I said, the blood of A God, and the sword of God. So, the blood of my Bobby will do just fine. How is my dear husband, by the way?"
"Husband?" Gail was so shocked she nearly broke the connection. "What do you mean?"
Rowena smiled warmly. She thought back to the night she'd married the two of them, using the ancient ritual. They'd had a particularly passionate go-round, and they had had quite a lot to drink. When Bobby had passed out afterwards, Rowena had felt so close to him then that she had cut her own arm and painted the symbols on Bobby's bare chest. Then Rowena had murmured the incantation, and they were married. At least, in Rowena's world, they were. Bobby'd had no idea, of course. When he'd woken in the morning with a big head and without Rowena, Bobby had seen the symbols on his chest and had just shaken it off as another wild night with Rowena. She tended to get a bit freaky sometimes when she'd had too much to drink. Bobby had taken a shower and washed the symbols off, and he had not thought about the incident since. But Rowena would never forget it. Bobby had been the love of her life, but she'd known it could never last. Their worlds had just been too different.
And now, Bobby was God. How deliciously ironic.
"I mean what I mean, dearie," Rowena answered evasively. "In any event, his blood should be easy enough for you to obtain, since you're such good friends. One vial will do. And please give him a kiss for me."
Gail was appalled. Rowena and Bobby were married? Why had Bobby never mentioned this little tidbit? Or maybe Rowena had performed some kind of weird ritual on Bobby, and she just thought they were. Gail looked at Crowley, trying to conceal her amusement. God was the King of Hell's stepfather? The jokes just wrote themselves. It was a good thing Castiel wasn't here in his original Angel form, though, or he'd be having kittens right now. Gail sighed. She wouldn't have minded seeing that, actually.
"Fine, we can get Bobby's blood, I'm sure," Gail said. She had to remain focused. "But, the sword of God? What does that mean? The original God's sword? What's that? Where do I find it?"
Rowena frowned again. She was willing to help, but she wasn't going to do Gail's work for her. "My, you're an inquisitive one, aren't you? Yes, the original sword of the original God. As for the rest, well, you're an intelligent girl, or so I've been led to believe. You figure it out. Get some of your holy friends to help you."
Gail gave a short laugh. And which holy friends would those be? Crowley? Metatron? Lucifer? Those were the only "friends" she was hanging around with these days.
Rowena feigned a yawn. "Well, it's late, and you have ingredients to get." She put her hand on Oliver's bald head, and he jumped. "Oliver, just let her come in next time," Rowena cooed. "Otherwise, I'll have to come back here to visit you on my own. And you wouldn't like some of the friends I could bring." She smiled at his reaction, but Rowena had been angry that Oliver had refused Gail. And yes, Rowena knew all about that, too. She could see a lot from her perch in the Netherworld, and now that the veil had been pierced twice, she would be able to see more now.
Oliver was horrified. This had been bad enough, all their talk about God's blood and His sword, but now Rowena was also threatening him with who knows what, or who, from the afterlife. He cursed the day that he had ever let Sam Winchester walk in here.
Rowena moved back over to Crowley, and she kissed him on the cheek. Now he did shrink back. She had never been disposed to show him any motherly affection in life, and he didn't need it from her now. And he was deeply suspicious. His mother had never done anything just to be nice, and she seemed a bit too cooperative about this whole thing. What was in it for her? He would have to talk to Gail about that.
"Take care, Fergus," Rowena said to her son. She knew he hated it when she called him that, but what did Rowena care? Then she looked at Gail. "I'll see you soon, dearie," Rowena said to her. "Enjoy the break; the blood and the sword will be simple compared to what's coming up." She smiled briefly, then the pink ball of flame disappeared and the room was plunged into darkness once more.
Crowley and Gail left Oliver's house, without another word to him. The medium had looked both shocked and repulsed when he'd ushered them out the door, but Gail was fairly confident that the next time she came, he would cooperate.
Crowley snapped them both back to the crossroads, and they stood there looking at each other for a moment.
"So, what will you do now?" he asked her.
She shrugged. "I guess I'll have to go back to the bunker. I need Sam and Dean to call Bobby for me. I can't access Angel Radio any more. And I sincerely doubt that I can just waltz up to Heaven now," Gail said dryly.
Crowley said nothing. He knew that she could actually go up there any time she wanted, even now. She kept forgetting that she was an Original. Although, to be fair, she had been taught almost nothing on the subject. Like Castiel, Crowley sometimes wondered where their Father's head was at. Why confer such a prestigious status on someone and then just leave them high and dry? But Crowley had no desire to tell her that she could go up there. He wanted her to stick around here. Despite having had to put up with his mother, Crowley had had fun on this little adventure with Gail, and he hoped for more of them in the future.
"So, you'll have Bobby's blood," he mused. "But, the sword of God?"
Gail made a face. "I know," she said. "I have no idea how to go about getting that, or even what it is, or where it could be. You don't have any ideas on that, do you?" she asked him hopefully.
Crowley raised an eyebrow to her. He actually did have some pretty extensive knowledge of Biblical lore, but he had no idea where to obtain something like that, and he told her so now.
"OK, well, thanks for tonight, anyway. It was kind of fun, in a strange and disgusting way," she quipped.
Crowley smiled. "Yes. Parts of it were fun. Call me soon, sweetheart." He lingered for a moment longer, then he snapped his fingers and he was gone.
Gail winked back to the bunker, but she stood outside for a minute, gathering up her courage. Sam and Dean would be mad. But now she had two more ingredients to get, and she needed their help to get them. They would wonder how she'd gotten the information, though. She would have to tell them what she had done, and she was sure that they wouldn't be pleased, nor would Bobby. Oh well, what was done was done.
It was full dark now. She was glad she'd missed the sunset. She would never be able to stand out here and look at it, or especially at the sunrise, until she and Cas were reunited. Where was he? What was he doing? Crowley had said that he was OK, but that was all he'd said. She doubted he was really OK, though. How could he be? She pictured his face. She tried to send her love to him telepathically. Hey, they were both Originals too, weren't they? Maybe he would feel it.
She took a deep breath and winked into the bunker.