It was done, over. Dean was gone. Sam stared at his hands. Dean had been gone for months now. An empty hole had opened in Sam's chest when he'd lifted his brother's lifeless corpse in his arms. He'd tried so much to get his brother back. So much. But he was losing hope that anything could bring Dean back.
Bobby had tried to keep him away from the darker stuff but it hadn't been easy, and he'd ultimately failed. Sam felt terrible for pushing the man away, but he hadn't been thinking straight. Hell he still wasn't. No, he was drowning his sorrows in alcohol one shot at a time and even that wasn't working. So he had gone to Ruby. She had given him a purpose. He'd felt a momentary sense of relief to be out and hunting again. It was just an added perk that he could interrogate the demons for ways to bring Dean back. So far no secrets had been spilled.
Sam shuffled to the side cabinet to pour himself another drink and felt his finger hit something. With curiosity he stopped and glanced down at the small unoffending card that lay there. He must have thrown it out of his pocket when he'd been cleaning them out after the last hunt. He thumbed the simplistic thing. It was stark white, or had been at some point. Now it was a bit smudged with things Sam didn't really want to think about. The font was just slightly curved to look fancy but not overbearing.
Sam couldn't quite recall what the small unobtrusive thing was doing there until he caught a glimpse of the name still proudly shining at the top in black letters. Harry Potter.
He felt his breath catch in his throat as he recalled their conversation the last time Sam had shown up on the man's doorstep toting Dean and Bobby with him. He was stuck on one sentence in particular. 'Now, if you wish to seek me out in a few months time I might be more cooperative.' It sounded like a hint. How could he have forgotten until this point? Maybe this guy could do something to pull Dean back even if he hadn't been able to save Dean from the get go. A damaged Dean was better than no Dean right?
Sam pulled out his cell phone and hastily punched in the number from the card. It rang twice before forwarding to an answering machine. A smooth woman's voice told him that Harry was unavailable at the moment but he could be found at a business located not far from where Sam was currently staying. Well, not far by Winchester standards at least. It was still two states from him, but considering that it could have been on the other side of the country Sam wasn't going to start complaining.
Instead he began throwing all his belongings into an overnight bag so he could set off. There was no telling how long Harry would be at the place he was and Sam didn't want to have to go searching all over creation for the guy.
It had taken two tense days of driving, and three ignored calls from Bobby for Sam to reach his destination.
The building was large and sleek, made mostly of windows as office buildings were so prone to be these days. Sam stared at it for a moment unsure how to proceed. His life hadn't taught him to approach things head on after all.
He bit down his nervousness and stepped into the building heading to the front desk. A petite woman in a pristine white suit greeted him with a tight smile. "How may I help you?"
"Er, well…" Sam started hesitantly before he remembered what Dean had told him in the past. Show a determined front and act like you're supposed to be there and things usually fell into place. He cleared his throat and straightened his shoulders. "I'm looking for a man named Harry Potter."
She gave him an incredulous look as if he'd just announced he was looking for a giant paper clip named Blinky. Sam trying not to let the look throw him. "You've found the right place. He owns the building after all."
Sam felt like slapping his face. "Is he in?"
She took a more professional tone. "Do you have an appointment?"
Sam hesitated. "Er, well…"
"Gina." A man said walking up to the desk in a flurry of movement. "I told you to have the files organized before you left yesterday. They're still a mess."
The woman who'd been talking to Sam glanced away apologetically. "I'm sorry. I got a call from my son's school."
The man stopped as he seemed about to chew her out to glance at Sam. He seemed to consider something as looked at him. "Are you here for an appointment?"
"Not exactly." Sam replied. "But I was hoping Mr. Potter could see me. My name is Sam Winchester."
Sam hesitantly gave out his real name in hopes that Harry would recognize it and let him through.
The man scowled as if affronted by Sam's very presence. "You have to call and set up an appointment. Mr. Potter is a very busy man. He doesn't have time to just speak with any vagrant that wanders in off of the-"
"Sammy!"
If the exclamation of his name didn't make him tense the sudden harsh pat of his back certainly would have. He glanced to his right and slightly down to see the same emerald eyed man he'd met several months back beaming up at him.
"Good to see you Sam." He said before turning to the two at the desk. "I'm afraid we'll have to push back my 2:30. Take care of that for me would you Gina. Ted if you'd see me in my office later I think we need to have a talk. Alrighty, thanks guys."
Sam tried to catch up with what was happening as he was none too gently guided away from the desk and into an elevator. The moment the doors closed the smile faded from Harry's face.
"I do so hate bureaucracy." He said rolling his shoulders. "Unfortunately it's necessary to run a business."
Sam just stared incredulously.
A small ding announced their arrival on the top floor. The doors slid open to reveal an oak door which Harry pushed open haphazardly. Behind it lay a spacious office with an Oak desk settled near one of the windows. Harry made a bee line for one of the cabinets to the side. "So Sam Winchester, I had a feeling I'd be seeing you soon."
Sam sent him a suspicious glare. "What do you mean?"
Harry shrugged pouring amber liquid into a glass. "I told you your brother wouldn't escape from his deal. I assume you're here about his soul. You don't seem like the weak willed sort who'd just give up on getting his brother back."
"Why didn't you help before?" Sam asked moving a bit further from the elevator.
"I told you then and I'll remind you now. Demon deals are not so easily broken. I could have pushed my hand and possibly gotten Dean off, but there would have been consequences that rippled through the world. Dean's elevator to hell was a necessary trigger. It was something that two very powerful forces wanted and honestly I don't feel like being caught in the crossfire for having stopped it."
Sam tried to work out what Harry had said but gave up, storing the information in his head for later examination. "Can you get him out?" Sam asked sounding a tinge desperate.
Harry looked a tinge sympathetic at Sam's obvious emotional trauma. "I can." He said with a shrug.
"Do it." Sam sounded desperate and demanding at the same time.
Harry smirked. "My services don't come for free Sam."
"What do you want? My soul?" Sam spat.
Harry placed a hand across his chest appalled. "Do I look like a bloody demon to you?" he asked with all due anger. "No I don't want your soul you morbid-" Harry cut himself off anger flashing in his eyes before he controlled his temper. "I don't make deals for souls like some two bit, dog breeding crossroads demon. You have nothing I want at the moment."
Sam opened his mouth. To protest or beg he hadn't decided but Harry's hand stopped him.
"This is all about what you'll acquire in the future."
Sam gave him a confused look. Harry thought he looked rather like a deer caught in the headlights.
"A ring."
"A ring?"
Harry nodded. "A very specific ring." Harry said placing himself in the armchair nearest to the window. "It was snatched from me years ago and returned to its 'proper master' as I've been told, but that's far from the truth. It holds sentimental value and I wish for it back. If you promise to retrieve the ring for me in the future I will promise to do my utmost to have Dean's soul returned to the Earthly plane."
"I'll do it." Sam said without an ounce of hesitation.
Harry nodded. "Good." Harry took a sip of his drink but didn't move.
"Well?"
Harry raised an eyebrow. "What?"
"Isn't there something we have to do to seal the deal or something?"
Harry scoffed leaning forward. "For the last time Winchester, I'm not a demon. Our deal is based solely on our word. You can get out of it as easily as ignoring our agreement. Of course, backing out means making powerful enemies. I'm sure you have no intention to do that."
Sam looked thoughtful. "You really aren't a demon." He said with confusion. "So what are you?"
Harry smirked. "Well, few people know the real answer to that question. Suffice it to say that right now I'm an ally, but I'm an ally you don't want to fuck with. Make sure you don't. I think that about wraps up our conversation. Have a pleasant day Sam." Harry said with a grin and then he leaned forward holding out a business card. "Take it. Just say my name if you ever want to talk. I can't have you coming in to my office all the time. You Winchesters dress like fashion impaired hobos."
Sam grabbed the card and made for the elevator a faint hope growing in his chest. He would see Dean again. Those last few months without him would soon be simple memories.
Harry frowned as he sipped his whiskey and stared at the patchy grass near his feet. A small grave in Illinois marked with only a hastily made cross with his name etched on it was the resting place of one Dean Winchester. It certainly was under dramatic. He supposed at least this way he had a body to work with.
He hadn't bothered to even ask Sam if they had cremated Dean. He supposed he was thankful for the tall man's obstinacy when it came to his brother. After all, they had burned their father. Harry smirked. He'd known Sam had cared more about Dean than he had about John. Or maybe he'd read it wrong and it was simply the lack of Dean's reasoning that led to the improper hunter burial.
"Alright. Suppose this isn't going to do itself." He snapped his fingers and a large circle of runes began to weave themselves around where he was standing.
"There is no need to do that."
The voice threw Harry off. He blinked allowing the spell he had begun to weave to falter. He turned to the speaker with a mix of curiosity and irritation. "Another angel? Swell. What do you want?"
"There is no need for you intervention." The angel reiterated. "I have just raised Dean Winchester's soul from perdition. Your interference is unneeded."
"Don't you know how to make a guy feel wanted?" Harry said snidely. "Your name?"
The angel stared at him for several minutes making Harry a bit more irate than he had started. "You are different from how my brothers described you." The angel offered but did not mention his name.
"How so?" Harry asked with interest.
"You do not feel like an abomination." He supplied easily the expression on his face giving no emotion.
Harry's eyebrows drew up in surprise. He let out a small surprised laugh. "I haven't met an angel as…pure as you are in a long time. Tell me, are your kind still calling it blasphemous to feel emotion? It would certainly explain the constipated look on your face."
The angel's expression did not change at all. "Why are you here?"
"I've made a deal with Sam Winchester." Harry said nonchalantly.
"You will not interfere in my work with Dean Winchester."
Harry held his hands up in mock surrender but he had a cocky grin plastered to his face. "Wouldn't dream of it feathers. I can call you feathers right? Seeing as you won't give me a name and I have to call you something."
The angels head ticked to the side in an almost adorable look of confusion. "I do not understand. You may call me Castiel."
"Castiel." Harry said his mind flipping through mental tomes of information. "The angel of Thursday. So if you don't mind my asking, why are the angels raising Mr. Winchester from hell in the first place?"
Castiel didn't answer and before he could a hand broke the surface of the ground near Harry's foot. Harry glanced down at it then back up to find the angel gone.
"So much for my questions." Harry muttered.
He gave one last glance to the dirty hand wandering about the ground trying to find purchase on something. With a final smirk Harry snapped his fingers and vanished leaving a bottle of scotch for the newly revived Winchester to find.
Bobby shot another look to Dean sitting at his kitchen table. It was still too surreal seeing him there. "So you're saying you just woke up in a-"
"In a pine box six feet under. Yes Bobby." Dean said with a sigh rubbing his hands through his hair. "I don't get it either. Sam's number's not working…he's not…"
"He's alive. As far as I know."
"Good... Wait, what do you mean, as far as you know?"
"I haven't talked to him for months."
"You're kidding, you just let him go off by himself?" Dean said incredulously.
"He was dead set on it."
"Bobby, you should've been looking after him."
"I tried. These last months haven't been exactly easy, you know. For him, or me. We had to bury you."
Dean had the sense to look abashed. He rarely saw Bobby show that much emotion. "Why did you bury me, anyway?" he asked desperate for the change of topic.
"I wanted you salted and burned. Usual drill. But... Sam wouldn't have it."
"Well, I'm glad he won that one. "
"He said you'd need a body when he got you back home somehow. That's about all he said."
" What do you mean?"
"He was quiet. Real quiet. And then he just took off. Wouldn't return my calls. I tried to find him, but he didn't want to be found."
"Oh, damn it Sam!" Dean said punching the wall. Sam may not want to be found, but he was going to be. Whatever he'd done set Dean on edge.
It hadn't taken long for Dean to find out where Sam was. He knew the guy's habits like the back of his hand. He only wished he could have gotten there faster and that he didn't feel like he was making a trip back to his own grave. Of course Sam would be in Pontiac, Illinois the exact town where he had climbed out of a grave barely two days ago.
Dean glanced at the room number one more time before pounding on the door. The click of the lock rang through the hall and the door swung inward. A young woman stood there wearing nothing but a tank top and underwear. Dean swallowed a lump in his throat.
"So where is it?" she says looking first at Dean then Bobby.
"Where's what?" Dean asked looking at Bobby to see if he knew what the woman meant.
"The pizza…that apparently takes two guys to deliver."
"I think we've got the wrong room." Dean said clutching the small piece of paper in his hand harder. Apparently the girl at the front desk didn't know what she was talking about.
The door moved to swing shut as another figure moved into sight. "Hey is…" Sam froze as he caught sight of Dean standing there in the doorway.
"Heya Sammy." Dean said with a tinge of trepidation, but he pushed his way into the room regardless.
Sam lunged forward and Dean tensed, ready for a fight. Instead he found himself enveloped in a tight hug.
"So…are you two…together?" the woman by the door said giving them an off look.
"Huh? Oh, no." Sam said with a small laugh. "He's my brother."
"Right…well…I, uh. I think I should leave."
"Yeah. That's probably for the best." Sam agreed almost too quickly.
When she was gone the three left in the room sat about for a second. Bobby and Dean eyed Sam suspiciously.
"So what'd it cost you?" Dean asked eying Sam as if something about him might have altered physically to give him away.
Sam's eyebrows shot up. "The girl? Dean I don't pay." Sam said with a small laugh.
"No Sam!" Dean said vehemently. "To bring me back! What'd it cost you? Your soul? What I'm off the hook and you're on?"
Sam scowled. "No Dean. I didn't sell my soul, and trust me. I tried. No demon out there was willing to make a deal!"
"Then what Sam?" Dean had noticed that Sam hadn't straight up denied being involved. He'd simply said he hadn't sold his soul. It was a detail Dean hadn't overlooked. "Is it something worse? WHAT'D YOU DO?"
Sam reached into his pocket and held out a small card. He looked moderately abashed, but his eyes held a level of defiance that let Dean know that he thought what he did to be justifiable. Dean took the card and flipped it face up. He read the name twice before any semblance of recognition crossed his face.
"Harry Potter? That British prick from Wyoming?" Dean said with confusion.
"I take offense to that." The sudden addition of a body to the room didn't go unnoticed.
Bobby and Dean had guns drawn almost immediately and pointed in the direction of the room's newest addition.
"Mr. Winchester, it's nice to see you up and walking about. How was hell? Cherry?" Harry held out a small bowl filled with pitted cherries. At the disgusted look on Dean's face he shrugged. "More for me then. You called?"
Sam looked mostly at ease and Dean felt a pang of anger run through him. "You the one who Sam sold his soul to?"
Something flashed in Harry's eyes before he let out a sigh. "Honestly. You Winchesters are too alike for your own good. No. Sam did not sell his soul to me. I'm not some petty crossroads demon. I have no interest in human souls." He said taking a seat on the edge of the bed and crossing his legs as if he hadn't a care in the world even with three hunters in the room, two of which still had guns trained on him. "Besides, this," Harry gestured to Dean. "Isn't my handy work."
"What do you mean?" Sam asked in confusion.
"Your brother had a bit of assistance from another source right before I got down to the task of drawing him back up. From the look of it his ride was a lot more pleasant that way though." Harry stood simply letting go of the bowl of cherries and it vanished just before it could hit the floor. "I'm being called elsewhere. So, unless you have something else to discuss…"
"Who did it?" Dean said taking a step forward. "If you didn't pull me back then who did?"
"Ah, I'll give you a name if Sam keeps up his promise." Harry said with a smirk earning him equal glares from Bobby and Dean. Both turned their glares on Sam next.
"Fine." Sam agreed. "Who did it?"
"You're looking for-"
"No, absolutely not." Dean said stepping between the two and earning a frown from Harry.
"Dean, really. It's okay." Sam said with a frown.
"Okay?! It's 'okay' Sam!" Dean fumed.
"What did you even promise him boy?" Bobby asked stepping forward.
"A ring." Harry answered for Sam. "For now though I suppose I'll take Sam's willingness to work with me as a consolation prize."
"What does that mean?" Dean bit out.
"You're looking for Castiel." Harry said with a disinterested look. "I think I'll take my leave now. Good day gentlemen."
Bobby and Dean didn't seem to know what to make of Harry's sudden disappearing act. Sam looked unsure as he thought about the implications of an unknown pulling Dean from hell.
"What the hell Sam!" Dean blurted rounding on his brother.
"What?" Sam asked taking an involuntary step back.
"What? Sam what the hell was that? Why are you running around making deals!?"
"The guy wanted a ring. A ring! For your SOUL Dean!" Sam said throwing his arms out. "How could I not take that offer? How could I leave you in hell when all it took to save you was a ring? Don't you get it Dean?"
"Look you idjits. We've got bigger problems right now." Bobby cut in. "The Potter guy didn't pull Dean out of hell and that means this Castiel guy did."
"How do we know he wasn't lying Bobby?" Dean asked looking disbelievingly at the spot where Harry had so recently been standing.
"How many demons do you know that would set themselves up to lose a deal?" Bobby told him matter of factly. "In fact, I'd assume normally that a demon would say it was his work even if it wasn't just so he could keep the deal."
Dean calmed down a bit accepting Bobby's logic. "Okay. So how do we know he even gave us the right name?" Dean said crossing his arms over his chest.
"We summon it." Was Bobby's simple answer.
Sam leaned against the table staring at the summoning circle with something akin to frustration.
"Are you sure you did the summoning ritual right?" Dean said glancing at Bobby whose scowl deepened. "Right…sorry."
The wind picked up and all three hunters shared looks of trepidation. Dean hopped from the table he'd been sitting on and moved closer to the other two, eyes scanning the room for threats.
"Wishful thinking." Dean said backing up toward the wall shotgun raised. "But maybe it's just the wind?"
As if on cue the only doors in the shed they were occupying burst open revealing a man of medium height in a trench coat. He stalked in eyes glued to the three of them. As he got a bit close for comfort all three hunters opened fire. The bullets didn't even seem to faze him. He continued forward stopping in front of Dean who had grabbed the knife they'd stolen off of Ruby.
"Who are you?" Dean growled out.
"I am the one who gripped you tight and pulled you from perdition." The man said quiet evenly for someone who'd just been shot in the chest.
"Yeah. Thanks for that." Dean said striking fast with the knife.
The man looked down, completely unconcerned and pulled it out letting it drop to the ground. As Bobby went to take a swing the man caught his weapon and held it reaching out toward Bobby. Before his hand could make contact with Bobby's head Sam was there blocking the hand and pushing Bobby back. The man sighed turning back to Dean.
"Who are you?" Dean repeated trying to sound sure of himself despite the sense of dread filling him.
"Castiel." The man answered.
"Yeah, I figured that much. I mean what are you?" Dean bit out.
With a completely straight face he answered. "I am an angel of the lord."
Everyone in the room blinked, taken by surprise.
"Yeah…and I'm a ballerina." Sam snapped quietly.
Castiel turned his gaze to the larger brother. "I was not made aware of that particular pastime, but I fail to see its relevance to the conversation." Castiel's head tilted to the side.
"Why did you do it?" Dean cut in. "Why did you pull me out of hell?"
"Because God commanded it. Because we have work for you." Castiel answered.
"And the other guy?" Dean snapped. "He part of this work as well?"
Castiel looked momentarily confused. "I do not understand. What other man are you speaking of?"
"The guy my brother worked a deal with!"
A look of understanding crossed Castiel's face. "You mean Harry Potter."
"Yeah, the demon."
Castiel frowned. "Harry Potter is not a demon."
Dean blinked. "Then what is he? An angel?"
"No, he is a-"
"That's quite enough." All eyes turned to the doors where one Harry Potter was standing looking quite miffed. "You tell them a single thing more and I'll make sure you spend the next few centuries of your existence regretting it you bloody arrogant prick."
Dean was impressed with the amount of presence the guy had. He had to admit even Castiel seemed cowed by the man at the door. That didn't last long though.
"I'm afraid your threats are not needed." Castiel said turning. "I must leave now."
"Oh I'm sure." Harry bit out looking like a cat who'd been kicked awake.
A rush of air swept through the room and Castiel was gone.
"Wanker." Harry called after him, before turning his attention to the hunters. "Is there a reason someone in this room kept saying my name or do you like to simply invoke the contact spell I put on that card for no reason?"
Sam reached into his pocket producing the small card with Harry's name on it. He stared at it for a moment in disbelief.
"I'll take it this was an accidental contact then." Harry said looking annoyed. "Do try to keep the thing out of hearing distance of my name in the future unless you need me. I might not be as happy to help get rid of the angels next time."
"Wait." Dean said stepping forward. "You knew that guy?"
Harry threw him a glare. "I 'know him' to the extent of having met him a grand total of two times now. Neither time was he particularly chatty either." Harry threw at the man.
"Is he really an angel?" Sam asked eyes wide.
Harry folded his arms over his chest. "If I say 'yes'?"
"I'll think you belong in the loony bin. Nothing too dramatic." Dean said snidely.
"Have a nice day Mr. Winchester." Harry said with a venomous glare in Dean's direction before disappearing.