Dean paced around the white room. This was too weird for color TV. His brother was drinking demon blood and playing around with his demon pal, but he chose her over his own brother. They were gonna try and kill Lilith by juicing Sammy up until he was all demon. Bobby was just yelling at him for being a coward like his father was, until he was suddenly transported here in this heaven-like solitary cell. Sure it was nice and all, but he was needed elsewhere.
At once, Castiel stood there, all angelic and bland. Cocking his head like he always did when he talked to Dean, he spoke in that freaking monotone. "Hello, Dean. It's almost time."
Ariel laid against the rack, her energy spent. It was such an out-of-body experience to watch her body slowly heal itself after the agony that Kushiel put her through, only to watch him do it again. Afriel had been quiet for so long that it felt like she was alone, but she knew that the demon was still there. She would have known if Afriel was exorcised out of her. In that event, she would be dead.
As her legs knitted back together, she tried to scream against the muzzle, but she couldn't. The leather chafed against her mouth and her throat was void of any moisture, rendering her silent; all she could do was pant through her nose. The sigils on her stomach and torso were all healed, for now; there would be massive scars riddling her body to remind her of the time that she spent here. She moved her head to the side, watching Kushiel lean against the wall and watch her heal so that he could begin again.
Castiel had bailed out on him after that freaking cryptic message. Almost time for what? He wandered around the room, turning his back to the marble table to gaze up at some of the portraits that hung on the wall. Turning back, he saw that there were burgers and beer that weren't there before.
"Hello, Dean." Resisting the need to roll his eyes, he turned to Zachariah and Castiel standing behind him. "You're looking... fit."
In his style, Dean tried to lighten up the moment. "Well, how 'bout this? The suite life of Zac and Cas." The angels looked dumbfounded by the joke, and Dean felt awkward. "It's a... never mind. So, what is this place? Where the hell am I?"
Zachariah straightened out his suit as he walked around the room. "Call it a green room. We're closing in on the grand finale here, kiddo. We want to keep you safe before show-time." He made a few offers to keep Dean comfy, but Dean wasn't buying it.
"Let's bail on the holo-deck, okay? I want to know the game plan, here." Dean stuck his hands in his pocket and looked at the two angels in front of him.
"Let us worry about that. We want you relaxed, focused."
"Well, I'm about to be pissed and leaving, so start talking, Chuckles." Dean's temper was starting to flare; he was beyond annoyed now with the cryptic angel games. Damn, where was Ariel in all this?
Zachariah sighed before acquiescing. "All the seals have fallen, except one." Dean made to answer back, but Zachariah stopped him from more sarcasm. "Really, Dean. Don't speak, since you're the one that started all this." When Dean shut his mouth, Zachariah continued. "However, this final seal is different. Lilith has to break it herself tomorrow night at midnight."
"Well, how're you gonna stop her?"
"We're working on that.
"Well, work harder." Just what were these angels waiting for?
"Have faith." Zachariah looked away from Dean.
"In what, you? Give me one good reason why I should." Dean had had enough of this nonsense no-answers crap.
So too, it seemed, did Zachariah. He got right into Dean's face and looked at him with that pompous trademark look. "Because you swore your obedience. So obey." Dean saw Castiel look down to the ground in obvious guilt; Castiel made him swear that oath just last night, but Dean thought it was so he could get his angel buddies not to smite his brother while he was trying to detox the demon blood from his system. Turns out that he had been played from the start. And, to top it off, he was still trapped here. Great.
Ariel felt the blade enter her side again as Kushiel re-traced the sigils into her skin. The only thing keeping her alive right now was her Grace, but she could feel it begin to grow dim. Lack and loss of hope could do that to an angel; even through that, she clung to the hope that she would see her brother again, despite how changed he was; maybe she would even see Dean, to be able to apologize for her not being able to protect him. Her eyes were glassed over, but she was still alive, if only just. She still screamed hoarsely at the pain, but there was nothing to take the pain away of watching Castiel break in front of her with nothing that she could do.
Suddenly, the door opened. Turning her head to the side as best as she could against the muzzle, she saw two angels standing there. Kushiel saw them as well. Undoing the muzzle, he let her drink again from the small skin again. As the liquid entered her system, Ariel's back arced as her Grace went into overdrive as the tranq-laced water flooded her system. Her eyes went black and her body relaxed against the restraints.
She felt the cool tile of the floor as she was dragged from the chamber into the bright light of the Citadel. She could hear the murmuring of the angels as they peered at her mauled back where Kushiel had whipped her after her first bout of healing five weeks ago. She knew what was next: she was going to be branded a traitor by the high council. Zachariah was on it, to be sure of at least one vote against her in the end.
She was tossed onto the floor in front of the angelic presences. She tried to pick herself up, but she was still weak. She felt strong hands, unwontedly gentle, lift her to her knees before pressing down on the hand print on her shoulder to wake her up fully. The burn of the hand print was nothing like what had been done to her over the last few weeks, but it was enough to break the lull over her senses. Shaking her head gently, she looked up at the faces of her jury.
Phanuel had taken over Zachariah and looked down on her with abject joy at the fact that he was finally going to punish her after so many millennia. However, she still had her brothers Metatron, Raphael, and Michael on her side, hopefully.
It was Metatron that spoke first. "We have convened this council to determine whether or not Ariel, archangel of the Lord and Father, should hereby be stripped of her Grace for disobedience against the Father." He looked down at her; his green eyes pitied the sight of his sister in this state. Normally, he had a length of jet black hair that he kept off his face in a braid, but today his head was shaved for the sake of seriousness and practicality. Raph and Michael both bore looks of sorrow at their comrade and sister. It seems only Phanuel was excited for her sentencing.
Metatron spoke once more. "Ariel, please describe the events of six mortal weeks past after the demon Alastair sent you back to the Citadel."
She gathered her breath and spoke, but her voice was hoarse and scratched. "I... I went down to the library of our Father. Zachariah tried to stop me from entering, but I pushed him aside. I asked our Father why he ordered me to torture a demon for information that he did not have."
Phanuel was quick to jump on her. "So you say that you doubted?"
Ariel closed her eyes for a moment. "Yes, I admit that I felt doubt. That was why I went to confirm the orders with our Father." That shut him up for the time being. "When he confirmed to me that it was the traitor Uriel that was the one killing our brethren, I asked him why he had ordered Dean Winchester and myself to torture the demon in the first place, when earlier he had assured me that I would have completed my penance when Dean Winchester made it to the beginning of the Apocalypse with his somewhat shaken faith in him intact." She took a breath and continued; her voice was getting stronger as the words began to come quicker to her. "I asked Father if we were supposed to avoid the start of the Apocalypse, and then was when Zachariah entered the study uninvited. Zachariah refused to let our Father speak, and ordered me to stay away from Dean Winchester. However, that order was not superseded by the order that my Father had given me earlier, in my mind at least." The lie came off her tongue with ease; she didn't want the council to learn of the true reasons that she ranted at their Father like that.
"I returned to the Earth plane to ascertain the condition of the Winchester man, and that was when I was forcibly summoned back. Zachariah resumed his form of Phanuel and told me that I was mistaken in the hierarchy of the angels; that our Father had granted him total power over our brethren, and that to disobey him was akin to disobeying our Father. I have, since then, been with Kushiel these past six weeks to receive Phanuel's perceived punishment for my disobedience." She had schooled her face into blankness; she had no energy left for her emotions to show, even if she had any left to show.
Micheal's knuckles were white as they gripped the bench before him at the thought of his little sister being punished by Kushiel. His gaze was pitch black as he glared at Phanuel. However, when he spoke, his voice was calm. "Ariel, in any of this time, have you directly disobeyed our Father's will, as dictated by myself as his commander of Hosts?"
"No."
Raphael leaned forward, staring down at her. "Ariel, is it true that during the time you spent with Kushiel, that the demon dormant inside of you known as Afriel was chained and complacent, never interfering with your penance?"
"No." These monosyllabic answers were taking their toll on her. Ariel resisted the effort to faint in front of the council, but her energy was decreasing slowly by the minute. They all looked to her for an explanation. "She tried to take my mind from the penance by saying gibberish, but I was successful in ignoring her and undergoing it completely and without distraction. It was important for me to understand that this penance had a purpose, and listening to a demon would not accomplish those ends." She apologized to Afriel mentally, and the demon accepted without any pause of concern
Metatron looked to the angels surrounding her as he gained their verdicts, and nodded. "Ariel, archangel, you are found innocent of the charges of disobedience, in the case that you merely disobeyed a lower angel and not the Father himself." She could feel her heart beating with joy, but Metatron stayed her with her hand. Phanuel looked absolutely livid, but he could not go against the collective will of the high council.
"However, to prevent you from coming before this council again, we have decided to brand you with the symbol of the warrior, giving you the same status as your brother. After this day, the humans Dean and Samuel Winchester are to stay under your charge. You will be aided by the angel Castiel." Metatron looked to the two angels standing guard over the room and nodded his head again; they left for a moment. "Ariel, you are told now that the Apocalypse will happen, and that Dean is meant to kill Lucifer himself. He does not know that, yet. Phanuel will inform him of such at the proper time." Calling out to the closed doors, the angels re-entered the chamber, helped her to stand on unsteady feet and legs, and took her to a side room where Kushiel was waiting for her again.
He took off the remnants of her tattered shirt, revealing her branded shoulder and arm completely. Turning to the side wall, he took out a branding iron that had obviously been sitting in the fire for some time; it was red-hot and smoking when Kushiel poured some of his water on it to test its readiness. The two angels that escorted her here grabbed her arms and restrained her. Ariel clenched her jaw and nodded to Kushiel who applied the brand.
Agony stripped through her body as she screamed. The two angels held her firm, ensuring that she didn't move while the brand was in place. He held it for thirty seconds, but it felt like a lifetime. It had been about eight thousand mortal years since she was a prisoner of Hell, and yet the smell of burning flesh made it seem like just yesterday. As soon as he was done, Kushiel ripped the brand from her skin and let her go.
She walked out of the room on her own feet, collapsing in Michael's arms at the ordeal and at its end.
Dean had had enough. He was not going to be stuck here forever. He was bored, and ergo he needed something to do. So, he began to topple those little freaky statues that surrounded the room. After the first one, Zach came back.
"Quit hurling feces like a howler monkey, would you? It's unbecoming." Something had gotten under his skin; his face was annoyed, and his voice was tauter than usual.
"Then let me outta here." It was simple really.
Before Zachariah could speak again, another angel walked through the door. Dean looked at her: Ariel? But she was different. Her face was smooth, but there was a fresh scar through her right eye like a crescent moon. She walked slowly, gingerly; was she injured? He couldn't tell through the leather jacket and the blood red tank top, but her breaths came in stilted quiet pants. Strapped over her back was a sword. Apparently, Zach didn't know about and didn't like it.
"Where did you get that?" He made to put a hand on the sword, but she drew it with the skill of a warrior. Dean made a future note in his head: never mess with her in the future.
"Michael deemed it fit for his right hand to bear the Sword of Lucifer." Whoa, wait, what? Dean was really confused at this point. The point of the sword was directed right at Zach's trembling throat. "Now complete your orders, and leave me with my charge."
Zach backed slowly from the blade and straightened out his suit jacket. Ignoring the archangel as she re-sheathed the sword across her back and stood at attention, he turned back to Dean.
"What the hell's goin' on here? When do I ice Lilith?" Zach chuckled briefly.
"You're not going to... ice Lilith." He sat on the couch against the wall as Dean took this in.
"What?" Wasn't that his job: to prevent the Apocalypse from happening?
"Lilith's gonna break the final seal. Set and done at this point of the game, kiddo."
"But Sam and I..." Reality finally dawned on him. "You don't wanna stop it, do you?"
Zachariah smiled at him. "Nope. Never did. The end is nigh. The Apocalypse is coming, kiddo, to a theater near you."
Anger began to fill Dean up. "But then what was that crap about saving the seals?
"For our grunts on the ground - we couldn't just tell them the whole truth. We'd have a full-scale rebellion on our hands. I mean, think about it. Would we really let sixty-five seals get broken unless senior management wanted it that way?" Dean thought immediately of Castiel and what he had tried to warn him about earlier before he was yanked back here. He thought of Ariel and the note that Castiel had passed on to him before she got yanked: "Don't trust the angels, except Castiel, me, and my brother."
"Don't worry, Dean. You're still vital. We weren't lying about your destiny. Just... omitted a few pertinent details. But nothing's changed. You are chosen. You will stop it. Just... not Lilith, or the apocalypse. That's all." Ariel turned her head away and closed her eyes.
"Then what?" Dean really wanted to throttle someone at this point. Stop it with the fucking riddles, would they? However, Zachariah didn't verbally answer the question. He looked towards a painting on the wall.
"Lucifer. You're going to stop Lucifer. And when it's over, when we've won, your rewards will be unimaginable: peace, happiness, two virgins and seventy sluts."
Dean, trying to hide the fact that the shell-shock to his system was quietly overwhelming him, posed this question. "Tell me one thing. Where's God in all of this?"
Zachariah began to walk away, but then he just stopped and cocked his head, not even looked back at Dean. "God? God has left the building." He paid no attention to the tears making their way down Ariel's face as he walked past her and into the wall.