When they had finally arrived to pick up Kevin, they'd had to kick open the locked front door and they were all immediately met with buckets of cold water falling on their backs. Kevin looked up at them with his shining black eyes, and in seeing that they were safe he let out a sigh of relief. The four men tried to shake the water out of their hair and eyes as they stepped further into the house. It had been abandoned for what seemed like years, as water stains bloomed on the walls, and it was dirty and dusty inside.
"Sorry to call you guys so late," He apologized as he turned the tablet over in his hands. "I just thought, you know, it was pretty important... not that we need this anymore, anyway."
"What do you mean?" Sam asked, narrowing his eyes in confusion.
"While I was waiting I copied the rest I'd missed from before down in here. I thought they might come and steal it back again..." He looked up shyly, as if he was ready to be jeered at and called a nerd like he had all of high school.
"Kevin, you rock." Dean said with a smile, and Kevin smiled back, shedding the air of tension right away.
"Do you think you have any idea what the riddle means?" Sam asked Kevin, as he went to rifle through the pages Kevin had copied and he'd stopped on the page where the rhyme was scrawled. "We think we know the meaning of the first line, but we're lost on everything else."
Kevin's face lit up, as if he had remembered what he was forgetting to mention. "I was putting a lot of thought into it, and I think I do understand the second line, the skeleton key of a righteous man. I was especially thinking about this after what happened to me, you know, with Crowley..." He shuddered as his four-fingered hand, still wrapped, curled into a loose fist.
"Spit it out, Kev." Dean said, looking enthralled.
"Well," Kevin continued, still looking at his injured hand as he flexed and unflexed his fist. "Are any of you familiar with The Brothers Grimm?" Dean guffawed. "We'd had enough crazy in our childhood without stories about more monsters."
"Anyway, there is one story in their collection called The Seven Ravens. Basically, it's the story of a little girl who goes to rescue her brothers after they were turned into ravens. I was trying to think about what 'skeleton key' might mean, and in this story she has to sacrifice a bit of herself, her pinky finger, to use as the skeleton key to release her brothers from their imprisonment.' " He looked over at his missing pinky finger after he was done explaining.
"When I did some more thinking, it seems like this whole spell revolves around sacrifice. It uses words like deadly, skeleton, one who survives..." He looked very somber. "Obviously, closing up hell isn't going to be a small feat." There was a small beat of silence. They all knew what they were in for, and they were willing to go to great lengths if it meant sealing it off forever.
"We think we've decoded the first line. We need to acquire the claw of a hellhound." Castiel broke the silence. "I have an idea. If we get Crowley to come and collect the tablet, there is no doubt that he will bring his hellhound with him. We can try and get the claw from there." He seemed to be deeply thinking. "Then, there is the issue of you humans being able to see the beast. I might be able to do something to fix that, but it will be extremely temporary. We might have about an hour."
"For now, let's look over these notes and see what we can do." Sam suggested as he began to leaf through the pages and pages of handwritten notes again. The three humans clumped together as Kevin began firing off sentences, trying to explain to them all that they'd need if they were going to go through with it, leaving the two angels alone.
When they were out of earshot, Castiel spoke up. "I have some bad news," He spoke softly to Samandriel. "It wasn't a coincidence that Kevin suddenly had the entire tablet. I could tell when I walked in that he'd been aided by two angels: the twins Calcifer and Isiah." Samandriel tried to pause and use the network to find the two names and associate them, but it wasn't clicking. "You might be too young to do that just yet. I understand now what they did: they are working as the recruiters for the pro-humans side, and in helping us get the tablet, they will want to collect their end of the favor soon, having us return to heaven and fight for their side."
"Is there any way we can avoid it?" Samandriel asked, feeling nervous all of the sudden. He didn't want to go back and fight, he'd seen enough violence in his short years. He wished he could console Alfie.
"I'm afraid not. These twins, they can be very tricky and cunning. They take after Gabriel in that way." Castiel looked a bit irked that he would have to deal with these mischievous brothers. "They may not come for a while. But we must help Sam and Dean for as long as we can."
"What about finding Gabriel?" Samandriel asked desperately. So much had been piled on his plate, he'd almost lost focus.
"We may be able to solve that when Calcilfer and Isiah finally come down to meet us. Like I said, they take after him in many ways. They might just be the two that persuade him to open up and return."
"So now we wait?" Samandriel asked. Everything was too entangled, too mixed up to make sense of anything yet.
"No. We still have to work to seal out the demons."
Dean closed his eyes lightly, feeling serene as he felt Castiel gently take the sides of his face. He'd volunteered to go first, just in case something bad were to happen. He was the type of person who absolutely refused to let anyone go before him.
"It may be a bit overwhelming at first, but it is the only way you will be able to see what us angels see. And it will be extremely temporary. So, we must work quickly once I start. Do you understand?" Castiel explained. Dean nodded, still keeping his eyes closed. He'd never admit it, but he was excited. He was curious to find out all he'd been missing as he had stared blindly into empty space.
He felt a sensation like hot lava pour from Cas's hands on the sides of his face, down into his skull, enveloping his brain and finally pouring into his eyes. He tried hard not to grimace or make any facial expression to show that he was in pain. Then, as quickly as it had started, the searing pain was over. Dean's eyelids fluttered and faltered, and he was a bit nervous for what he was finally going to see. He felt the hands lift from the sides of his head as Cas moved on to help Sam and Kevin with the procedure, and Dean opened his green eyes slowly.
He almost jumped back in surprise. Damn, they were massive. Cas's wings were enormous, almost triple his arm's length, and pitch black. He could barely make out that they were made of feathers at all, as they were so dark they almost seemed to suck in any light from the surroundings. When he did see the glossy outline of a feather, it flashed with raven-like deep purples and blues. His eyes flitted around the room, and he saw Samandriel as well: his wings were small and pure white, like the little strap on wings kids wore for Halloween sometimes. The only difference were these were clearly very real, as they seemed to endlessly be shuffling, flapping or readjusting in some manner.
That wasn't the only change he observed, as he could almost look through Cas's body to the substance within. He tried to focus, but just looking at it made his head swim a little. Inside the familiar body was a swirling white mist, with millions of different opacities and shades of light. The living white swirled almost cosmically, and the closest thing Dean could compare it too was a nebula. It make the resemblance even more uncanny as Cas seemed to have two small unmoving stars in his chest, one over his heart on one just slightly diagonal to that. These little points of white glowed with little pinpricks of solidified white, and looked very different compared to the swirling surroundings. He looked over to Samandriel again- the baby angel didn't have them.
Sam and Kevin had received their sights quite quickly, and were now standing and observing with wide eyes as well.
"What are those, Cas?" Dean asked, pointing out the little stars specifically. Castiel looked a little embarrassed as he put a hand over his chest as if to cover them up.
"It's hard to explain, and we don't have much time here." He said quickly, as his deep blue eyes shifted out the door. The agreements had been very clear- to meet Crowley in the middle of the street at noon exactly, that there was not to be any trouble or shit would go down. There would be a swift trade, the tablet for their safety, but it was more of a cautious hand-off.
"We have time for now. What are they? Are you sick or something?" Dean asked, and he actually felt concerned. What if he was sick? What if those 'stars' were some type of tumors that he'd been afraid to tell them about? Suddenly the pretty star-like pricks of light seemed a lot less cheerful.
Castiel sighed. "It's nothing like that. They're..." He struggled to find the most appropriate word, he furrowed his brows in concentration, trying to explain. "They're...quotas."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" He answered, somewhat annoyed at the vagueness. Obviously these things weren't so normal, and Cas had something he was hiding.
"The angel network works a lot like, hm, human hormones. Messages are sent continuously, and things move and connect and change unconsciously to our needs. But ever since it's begun to tear, the whole system was thrown off. Some systems completely failed and shut off, other things are failing to function quickly. One of the systems that shut off was the Internal Grace. It is no longer responding to our need of more baby angels, and as our numbers dwindle the system remains completely stagnant. These are like quotas because I must, sometime in the future, fulfill my requirement."
Dean looked shocked, but then he broke into a snide smile. "All that fancy explanation to say you're preg-" "Dean, stop." Sam interrupted, looking to Castiel with a sympathetic look.
"You misunderstand," Cas said defensively, his massive black wings shifting ever so slightly in embarrassment. "They have nothing to do with passing on genes or having offspring. Grace transcends genetics, as it is merely a life source. No angels are born with passed on or similar characteristics, unless they are twins. These are like the block of wood that is essential to eventually have a large fire. They are merely the minimum amount of grace required to eventually build up enough to become a newborn." He quickly worded his rebuttal, speaking in such a low voice that it almost started to rumble.
"Sheesh, don't get your panties in a wad, I was only having a little fun." Dean said innocently.
"My being upset has nothing to do with undergarments. And nothing about this situation is 'fun'. I should not have to be in this predicament in the first place, and the Internal Grace failing to function is certainly not 'fun'." He said moodily, covering up the tiny diagonal stars again. Dean shot Sam a look, who only met it with a shrug. The five men made their way outside, and went to stand in the street under the stoplight. The town had been Crowley's pick, and it was some abandoned, old town that hadn't looked like anyone had been there for years and years. Perfect for a deal like this one.
They'd been waiting for a few minutes under the hot sun. "Do not show that you are able to see his true face, or the hound. It may come as a shock, but try to keep your composure as calm as possible." Castiel warned as they waited. The minutes dragged by, as all the humans were on edge and filled with suspense as they tried to imagine what they might possibly see.
When Crowley did finally appear, the humans tried their hardest not to jump or shudder when they saw his true face. He was ugly. Millions of strange-looking, tar-black intestines twisted, bloated and shrunk inside the occupied human body. They looked like they were coated with a poisonous and slimy pitch black tar, as they strange colon-like shapes dripped thickly and slid over each other like writhing snakes. His face was even worse: piercing white eyes with pinpoint pupils stared right at them, and they never stayed in the same position on his face as his loose eyeballs rose and fell, popped and receded with the constant moving of the tarry, thin intestines in his face, the only things holding the eyes in place. His mouth was unnaturally wide like the cheshire cat's, cutting through his always-moving cheeks. His tongue was blood-red, thin like a ribbon, and ended in a sharp point, like a snake's without the little split. His teeth were horrible: pure white and sharper than any blade, and had rows upon rows like a shark's, except for the two longest, saber-like teeth on either side of his snout. Damn, he was ugly.
The hound next to him was straight out of nightmares. It was probably the most accurate mascot for what kids imagine the monsters under their beds to look like. The beast was built like a house, with bulging arms and legs, as it rested on its haunches as if it was ready to leap at their throats at any second. It had a pure white skeleton, but bits of it shone through only sometimes as the tarry snakes moved over and passed through them continuously. It's build was like a dog's but much larger with bowed bones to make up the framework of its huge, black body. It's paws were enormous, at least the size of two human heads combined, with shiny white claws (the color matched the unholy white of its skeleton) that stuck out like daggers. It's face was equally haunting: it had blood-red, pupiless eyes, and a long snout like an alligator's, except for the very canine way the skin was deeply wrinkled in a snarl, much like a wolf's. It's thick red tongue licked it's lips, as a massive paw clawed and stamped at the ground impatiently. It emulated the phrase bloodthirsty completely.
"Hand over the tablet and none of you will get hurt. Oh, hello Samandriel. Do you remember me?" The demon asked cockily, and Dean saw the first time the little teen's face actually express anger. Samandriel's lips seemed to curl up with hate as his nose wrinkled angrily and his eyes, which were usually wide and full of curiosity and wonder, narrowed dangerously.
"You got rid of your friend, I see. What a shame. I would like to thank him personally- he's probably the reason why I was able to get those secrets out so easily." He said cooly, glancing down at his curled hand.
"That's not true!" Samandriel spat, looking like he was ready to pounce at Crowley and hash it out himself. Cas shot him a warning glance.
"Look, we wanted to make the trade off, isn't that right?" He tried to diffuse the situation quickly. Crowley raised his eyebrow in wanting to see the goods first, in which Kevin held up the tablet with his good hand.
"The tablet for Adam just like we'd discussed, correct?" Crowley purred.
Sam and Dean gasped. "That wasn't part of the deal," Dean hissed at Cas, his heart rate hiking up right away. This could become so much more dangerous if it was a real trade, not just a hand-off. "What were you thinking?"
"He does not deserve to stay in hell forever. And Crowley is willing to make the trade." Cas said calmly as he took the tablet from Kevin's arms. Kevin looked up at him skeptically as he somewhat unwillingly gave up the tablet. He seemed to be thinking the same thing: the situation had grown much more dangerous if it really was a proper trade.
Crowley snapped, an annoyingly satisfied look on his face. "My boys have just pulled him out are releasing him to heaven as...we...speak." He slowed down and looked toward the sky, as if he could physically see the boy return.
"Go ahead and search. He'll be there." Crowley said almost impatiently. Cas did a quick scan of all of heaven's residents, something he was able to do in a manner of seconds even though there were billions of them. "He has returned him," He said under his breath, and started to walk forward with the tablet in his grasp. He handed it gingerly to Crowley, and then, with a slight of hand so quick that no one could react, his blade slid into his palm and he lunged to the hellhound, slicing at its thick stump of a leg. The hound howled loudly and lunged powerfully at Castiel.
The three humans were frozen in shock. Samandriel struggled to figure out what he should do: should he rush up to help, or would he only get in the way? And how could he conjure up his own blade? The four watched powerlessly as the scene unfolded.
The angel kept trying to hack at the same leg, and tarry mucus-like droplets flew everywhere as the beast lunged at him again and again, savagely thrashing his massive head from side to side as he tried to snap at the angel's neck. Castiel tried to throw him off with all his strength, but the two were interlocked as they roughly tumbled in a mess of bodies made of deep black, shiny wings and wormy black tar. His massive paws came up to scrape down his chest, but kept being blocked as Cas swung almost faster than the eye could see with his silver blade. They tumbled again, both viciously at each other's throats.
"Cas!" Dean cried out, trying to rush to his friend's aid. Sam pulled out the bottle from his coat-the demon bomb they'd made, but Crowley quickly saw it. "I wouldn't do that if I were you," He said cooly as he made a gripping motion and the bottle broke in Sam's hands, making it useless. Samandriel felt his human heart beat faster and faster, and next thing he knew he felt a heavy weight as his own blade slipped into his hand. He tried to rush forward to help, but things were moving too fast for him to intervene.
The hellish beast had now rolled Castiel completely over with a powerful ram of his long snout, and tilting his head upward this time, threw the angel slightly into the air. The giant beast then snapped his snout together and clamped it down onto Cas's midsection like he was merely a rag doll, and it made it to the nearest building in one bound of its gigantic haunches as it slammed the angel into a wall. The bricks cratered and Cas tried to swing at the nasty-looking paws one more time, a frightening expression on his black-spattered face. The hound responded with another powerful shove, whipping his body to wriggle into the building as the bricks gave way, with a loud clatter and a cloud of dust, and they only saw his yard-long tail whipping from side to side, spattering black everywhere like a paintbrush, as it tried to savagely rip the angel's throat out.
"That's my girl, isn't it?" Crowley said, as he looked absolutely enthralled by the whole ordeal. "Sic 'im, girl!" Suddenly, there was a loud, hellish yelp that almost popped out the human's eardrums. They all froze in place to cover their ears tightly, as the extremely loud whimpering continued.
"C'mere girl! Whose a good girl? You are!" The dog burrowed viciously into the fallen angel one more time before bounding with a single leap back to Crowley's side, leaving drips of demony tar and black blood everywhere as it whimpered to his side and seemed to put it's weight on only one of its front feet.
"Just to serve as a warning to not try and mess with me or my dog again," Crowley said coldly as he made a swift rising motion with his hand. "Normally after trying to sabotage a deal like that, I'd kill you all. Consider yourselves lucky with this," He sneered, as he and the hellhound swiftly disappeared with the tablet.
"Cas!" Dean's heart-wrentching cry rang through the air as they had realized what Crowley had done. With that quick little hand motion, he had quickly set the building Castiel was buried in on fire, and the bright orange flames were climbing higher and growing hotter by the second. Dean didn't even hesitate to charge headfirst into the burning building, while the other three stood there, paralyzed at what to do, as the orange firelight reflected in their eyes and the acrid, smoky smell started to curl into their nostrils.
"Stay here!" Samandriel cried out to Sam and Kevin when he saw that they were now intending to run right after Dean into the building. Suddenly, the two physically could not move as Samandriel charged into the building, having unintentionally bound them to their spots.
It was smoky inside, and very hard to see as Samandriel's eyes teared up and soot shot into his nose painfully. The fire was growing hotter and hotter on his cheeks, and he blindly tried to find the two men. He tried to call out their names, but a rush of heavy smoke choked his words and he had to stop and cough terribly. He felt panic rise as he kept trying to look for them but he found nothing but sooty brick walls, tongues of flame and a never ending acrid cloud of gray smoke.
He was beginning to lose hope as he clutched his blade tightly, when he finally saw two silhouettes against the bright orange flames: Dean had found Castiel, and was reaching unflinchingly into the blazing flames to pull him directly out. Samandriel coughed and covered his running nose and mouth with his elbow and went to try and reach the two, but he felt the effects of the oxygen deprivation on his human body as stars began to pop in his eyes, his lungs screamed for air, and as his vision started to flood with black he could barely balance on the pile of rubbled bricks. He felt himself falling over, before he caught a glimpse of what he thought might just be his oxygen deprived mind playing tricks on him, the faint shadow-liked outline of two winged humans. He was falling, black completely cutting off his vision, knowing that this might be the end...
Instead of hitting a pile of sharp bricks and feeling hot flames on his face, Samandriel fell onto a somewhat soft and cold dirt ground. He opened his eyes, and there was still a few dark spots in his vision, but he breathed in a deep breath of clean air gratefully and coughed a few times. He rolled over with heavy, somewhat burnt limbs as he checked his surrounds. Kevin and Sam were there, looking extremely confused, as they looked around as well. As far as Samandriel could tell, they were in some old abandoned car repair yard. It didn't look like anyone had been there in years-cars were overridden with rust, and the road next to it had deep cracks in the sun-bleached, grey concrete, as the tall grass on the other side swayed harmlessly in the wind.
"Dean!" Samandriel heard Sam call out, as he tried to sit up and get his bearings. His face felt hot and tight, and he looked at his pale hands to see they were covered with a thin film of black dust, and a few blisters had emerged from angry red splotches. As he watched, the skin began to smooth out and return to a pale white. He looked over, exhausted, to see what Sam was so worked up about. Then, he remembered that haunting image of one man just reaching in and pulling the limp body out of the fire,he had been so unhesitant, so determined and strong...
What he saw was not very pretty. Dean was flat on his back, eyes closed and breathing shallowly. Tear stains streaked down his sooty face, and he had taken everything off except for his T-shirt, and his arms were deeply burned: angry purple and red blotches were everywhere, with bubbles of glossy reddish-white and burnt splotches and swirls of black. It hadn't ended there: on one of his jawlines and cheeks the burns still crept up, making his jaw and part of his cheek look like a melted pizza.
"Are you okay? Open your eyes, Dean." Sam almost demanded, fear overflowing in his voice. Dean's eyelids fluttered and he opened his eyes, and they seemed tired. His face looked tense as he tried hard to hold back an expression of pain.
"Cas will be back soon. He can fix this." Sam said loudly, as if convincing himself. It looked bad. It looked really bad. Dean mumbled and tried to stand up, but he could only sit up, as he couldn't place his hands anywhere to push himself up, his hands were red and shiny and burnt just like the rest of his arms. Sam silently knelt down and wrapped a strong arm around his brother's midsection, helping him stand on his feet, trying hard not to touch any of his burns. "We need to go inside and get this cleaned before anything gets infected," He said solemnly, helping Dean to limp inside.
Kevin ran ahead into the abandoned house and began to rummage for any first aid, as Sam and Dean slowly made it to the dirty kitchen. Sam ran the sink (he was met with a blast of reddish-brown water from the rust, but kept it on until the water finally ran clear) as he rinsed and twisted a washcloth he'd found a few times. Dean had slid up to sit on the counter, and had taken off his smokey and dirty T-shirt. His chest was red and the skin looked irritated, but that was about it.
Kevin quickly returned with a first aid kit, and starting digging through that. He pulled out ace bandages, disinfectant, gauze: anything he thought could help. Sam tried to dab at the exposed skin, and Dean grimaced deeply and suppressed a cry of pain.
Sam stopped and looked at him sternly. "You can't always do this to yourself, Dean! Think of yourself for once, not others! You don't always have to fix everyone-"
"Are you saying I should have left him there? I'd do anything for him, just like I'd do anything for you! He's my best friend and I lov-" He stopped before he'd say the full sentence, fuming, as it looked like it pained him to yell as the raw skin on his cheek stretched with each angry word.
"I don't give a fuck what I look like, Sam. Hunting isn't about looking pretty. If I look like this forever, so be it. It's pretty damn worth it in my eyes." He continued, seething. The horrible part was Sam could almost imagine it- people staring at his melted cheek as the stringy scars and forever-blisters shone in bright white scars, as he'd avert his eyes and pretend it didn't bother him: people being afraid to touch the twisted, clumpy skin as he tried to give them a business card... it was all too much. Dean frowned at the look Sam was giving him. He didn't want having his morals questioned, ever. He knew what he had to do, and that was go to any cost to protect his friends and family. And if that meant sprinting headfirst into a fire, then he'd do it.
"I know, Dean. I just think you should recognize that you're worth something." The two were quiet for a long time as Sam continued to gently dab at the burned arms, and finally he began gently rolling out the ace bandage to fit onto them. Dean no longer looked angry, but he only looked pitifully in pain as he was trying to think of other things. Samandriel couldn't take it anymore: he had to leave the room.
He went into the living room and just stood there, staring at nothing, before he went to collapse onto a dirty footrest that smelled like old people and dirty dog. He buried his head into his palms and sat there, barely even noticing when Kevin had come inside to join him.
"Are you okay?" Kevin asked quietly, sitting down next to him.
"No," Samandriel said tearfully, too embarrassed to look up from his hands. Kevin could still barely see his faded white baby wings as they drooped pitifully down his back. "I'm pretty much the worst angel ever."
"Join the club. Do you really think I'm the best prophet ever?" Samandriel could tell the kid was trying to comfort him, but he only felt more sad. He missed Alfie.
"That wasn't even me who saved everyone back there. Now I can't even heal him. Everyone in heaven must think I'm pretty useless."
"That's not true." Kevin reassured him. Samandriel felt bad again that this kid was being very nice to him and he was being quite rude in return. "Thanks," Samandriel said quietly as he finally lifted his hands from over his eyes. He felt worried for Dean.
Castiel opened his deep blue eyes, and he was met with a blaring white room. This could only be one place: heaven. His eyes adjusted to the bright white, and he finally was able to focus on who sat on the other side of the table. Oh, great. He thought as he recognized his brothers right away: Calcifer and Isiah.
The two were the spitting image of what would imagine angels to look like: in their true forms they looked exactly identical, with handsome facial features, lanky arms and legs, and fluffy white-blonde hair that fell into their amber-gold eyes. They both had large, identical light grey wings with white speckles. At the moment they occupied vessels: a set of skinny twin teenage boys with dark heads of wavy hair and pale grey-blue eyes. The two chilled almost annoyingly on their chairs, stretching out their lanky borrowed legs and relaxing as if they were at a sleepover instead of getting ready to discuss some serious plans. They wore high-end clothes, but their outfits were very put together, unlike Castiel's loose clothing and backward tie. Calcifer was wearing a pair of black denim skinny jeans and combat boots, with a pull-over navy blue sweater as the white collar of his shirt underneath stuck out at the neck and poked out from the bottom of his sweater. Isiah sat to his left, and was wearing stone-washed jeans and converse, with a cream quarter button-down shirt and thin black suspenders.
"Look what the cats dragged in. And by cats, I mean us." Calcifer started off, like he usually did, as he took the lollipop from his mouth and twirled it between his fingers lazily. Cas looked even more out-of-place as he was extremely dirty from the fire, his trench coat was in burnt tatters, and hellhound blood and slime was spattered across his face and all over his clothes, and he seemed to be coated in a dusting of soot.
"I can't stay here. I must go back to earth, my humans need me, one of them is gravely injured-"
"Ah, but that's what we're here to talk about, isn't it? Humans?" Isiah spoke up, finally perking up from his slouchy, chill position as he looked like he finally wanted to talk as he leaned over the table in front of him and interlocked his fingers.
"Why don't you take a seat?" Calcifer practically purred. Castiel could look past the bodies they currently occupied to see their shining amber eyes were both full of passion for the pro-humans, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. These two had a lot of heart, but the trap of a situation they'd put Castiel into seemed almost unfair. Both of their graces were overwhelmingly dotted with stars, they must have had at least twenty each.
Castiel refused to make any inclination that he was going to sit in the chair in front of him. "A little over your heads there, don't you think?" He mentioned the clusters of stars that both of them had stuffed into their graces. Calcifer scoffed and waved his hand as if to dismiss it. "We're only doing our duty. And what about you? Are you going to cash in your little requirements soon?" Castiel started to get angry. He needed to leave now, each minute he spent up here with his brothers was another that Dean suffered.
"I never asked for your help," He said with narrowed eyes, refusing to even glance at the chair as he defiantly remained standing up.
"But you see, you keep your core human form and you have two quotas already. Don't you want the pro-humans to triumph? We believed that if we gave you something to help you complete your mission with the humans faster, you would return to heaven faster." Isiah explain cooly, sliding him thumb under one of his suspenders.
"You have an entitlement to return, Castiel. We've helped your ass more than once, and we'd like a return of the favor." Calcifer finished, looking like he didn't want anything said to counter him. Castiel sighed. There was no arguing with these two, the unbreakable brothers who together were a powerhouse for the trickiest situations.
"I am fully committed to the pro-humans. But please, I need more time. I will commit myself to the cause soon enough."
The twins exchanged skeptical glances. "How long do you think this war is going to last exactly, Castiel?" Isiah spoke up softly. "We all know that there might only be one more tear before the whole network splits apart. Will you be on our side when that happens?"
"I already am on your side." Castiel said irritably. "If you'd really like help, why don't you try and find Gabriel? You two are probably the only one's he'll listen to. I already gave you my word, now let me return to my humans."
The twins looked at each other lazily. "You may leave, but we won't forget your promise." Calcifer said almost darkly.
Castiel appeared in the kitchen suddenly with Sam and Dean, who both had relief pouring through their eyes when they saw him. Dean was in bad shape: he had broken out into a sweat, and he looked feverish as he held his boiled arms up slightly so they wouldn't touch anything. Castiel touched his good cheek softly with his hand, and to his surprise his friend closed his eyes and somewhat nudged into it with trust. His skin started to smooth out and the angry red and purple began to even out, and the bubbles and blisters seem to recede and the shininess disappeared as healthy skin faded over it.
Cas finished and took his hand away slowly, and slipped it under his coat to collect something from a pocket. He smiled shyly as he pulled out the shining white claw, still dirty with black blood and tar. Sam's eyes widened and he tackled him into a hug. Dean, still sitting on the counter, was almost knocked over as the two leaned toward him. Why the hell not. He thought to himself as he used his newly healed arms for the first time to wrap them around his brother and his friend.
Calcifer and Isiah sure did fiercely support the pro-human side, but Cas doubted if they knew what they were really fighting for. The love humans could hold for each other was worth fighting everything for.
Thanks for reading! Sorry if this chapter was a bit dark, but I hope you guys enjoyed it anyway. Please tell me what you think about Calcifer and Isiah! Being a twin myself, I felt like writing those types of characters into the story. Please continue to review if you'd like me to continue the story! Thanks everyone who comments regularly as well :D