Hello everyone! Just going to put a warning out- this chapter is quite sad (I cried when I wrote it!) So I just thought I'd give you a warning in case you were already sad. This is the chapter that will change the outcome of the story from this point forward, so enjoy! There will probably be only a few more chapters to come, as I already have the rest planned out. Thank you for your follows, favorites, and reviews! And even if you didn't do any of those three but still enjoyed reading this, thank you too! Well, happy reading. See you on the other side!
Castiel looked up with suddenly alert eyes, despite having looked so tired for the past couple of days. For the past couple of minutes the four had sat there in silence, Sam and Dean feeling particularly uncomfortable as Cas said nothing, but still looked as tad bit angry as he sat with Samandriel, trying to get the baby angel's much needed energy back up. He looked up at them like there was some bad news, but he just didn't want to tell the brothers just yet. Dean wasn't going to sit through any of that bullshit.
"Okay, what is it. I know that look, Cas." He said, glaring down at the dark-haired man in a way that he knew he'd crack.
"The demons. It seems they've traced back the power outage, and Crowley is sending them after us, because he found out somehow what we are trying to do." He looked scared. For probably the first time, Sam and Dean saw true fear on his face. Crowley must have been sending quite a hoard to get a look like that from Cas's face.
"So, what do we do? Run away, hide, shake them off the trail?" Dean suggested quickly, wanting to get Cas talking again. He didn't care what it took, he wanted that look off of his friend's face. It was making him feel very unsettled.
"No." Castiel replied gruffly, suddenly looking determined. "It's time. We close the gates of Hell today."He stood up steadily, and pulled Samandriel up to stand next to him. "First, we must get to the right place. Are you fit to drive?" He turned to Dean to ask, and Dean scoffed. He'd pulled all-nighters before and been fine.
"I'm fine, Cas. Just tell me where we need to go."
...
Things were tense in the Impala. Everyone was worried and nervous, but not communicating to each other as the car sped down the road and a sticky-eyed Dean blinked tightly to try and get the sleep from his eyes, as they had been driving all night and now just the first pinkish-grey light of dawn was beginning to peek out from the horizon in the East.
"I'm sure we can find someone righteous's grave around here somewhere. Normally I'd say to hit up the nun's grave, but I guess it has to be a man's..." Dean talked aloud, but it sounded as if he was talking to himself, trying to formulate a plan.
"There will be no need to dig up graves, Dean. We have everything we need right here." Castiel said somewhat ominously.
"You have the water from the three rivers, and the claw, am I right? We still need the skeleton key of the righteous man." He retorted back to Castiel, not wanting to believe what he thought the answer was.
"The righteous man is you, Dean."
There was an uncomfortable beat of silence, as no one wanted to say anything and Dean didn't want to admit it to himself. "It's coming up soon." Castiel piped up in a quiet voice after a few uncomfortable minutes had stretched by. But it hadn't been more than a few turns in the road when the Impala had to break roughly to stop a road block of cars, lined up in the middle of the street. The people stared up with frighteningly blank expressions ; their eyes flashed pure black for a few seconds. Without warning, Castiel was carrying all of them and tugging them through time and space.
They all landed on their feet in the middle of a grassy field, lined in all directions with thick forest. The humans had to take a second to regain their composures, flying was never very pleasant for them. Samandriel, however, looked absolutely thrilled, looking like a little kid who had just gotten off their first roller coaster, and they would beg to go on again and again.
Meanwhile, Castiel was walking slowly around, searching. "It should be here," he said to himself under his breath as he stepped a few paces, closing his eyes and reaching out, lifting his head skyward like a cat's when they test the air. He finally stopped walking and kneeled down, and pushed about six inches of soil to uncover a large, ancient-looking bowl with strange symbols carved all along the circumference.
"This is one of the most powerful spell bowls. It will most certainly hold up." Castiel said, setting the large bowl down on the ground and reaching into his pockets to take out the two ingredients he had been keeping safe. He placed the shining white claw in the middle of the bowl, lining it up precisely with two of the symbols along the edge, furrowing his brow in concentration.
"We need to hurry. There is no telling when the demons will finally catch up to us," Castiel said, but it wasn't just about that. Would Dean be brave enough to sacrifice a tiny piece of himself for the spell to work? Dean looked almost offended that Castiel would think he would even hesitate, he had caught on the undertones in his sentence easily enough.
He strode up to the bowl with large steps, and whipped his knife out to hold in his hand, poised to slice off his pinky finger to add to the bowl. He took a deep breath, and gripped the knife blade tightly.
"Dean, wait-" Sam tried to call out, he couldn't just watch as his brother all too willingly mutilated his body.
It was too late to stop now. With a quick motion, the skeleton key tumbled into the bowl along with the pale white claw. Castiel quickly grabbed it and lined it up with shaking fingers, so that the two items formed a perfect X.
Dean clutched at his hand, not even making a sound as blood began to soak into his shirt where he held his hand. Castiel must have felt the demons close by, as he seemed to quicken his motions as he pulled the stopper on the vial of water and poured it with an expert hand over the two ingredients. The flesh from the pinky finger dissolved into nothingness, revealing the stark white skeleton underneath, forming a crossbones of two very different elements. Good and evil, yin and yang, heaven and hell. The two bones from two creatures began to shake rapidly, as the bones burst to ignite, and dark red flames turned the contents of the bowl into black dust within a matter of seconds.
The dust seemed to float up on its own accord, somehow doubling, tripling, quadrupling in amount. It gathered a few feet above their heads as the dust seemed to collect and push on the very seam of space, when a tear was heard and a huge black hole appeared in the sky, the dust was quickly sucked through as the sky was punctured.
Then, a sound like a swarm of billions of bees filled the air, and the four looked to the skies with wonder as black clouds started rushing toward them, the demons who had been close by had been easily sucked from their bodies and were hurtling towards the black hole. That wasn't all - an evil-looking black cloud tinged the horizon, speeding toward the hole faster than anything they'd ever seen before. The awful buzzing in the air grew until it was almost deafening. They all hit the ground, trying to stay flat and cover their faces, as the swarms of demons were being whirlpooled down the hole as it stretched bigger and bigger, sucking all that evil out and away.
It seemed to last forever as the four kept glued to the ground, covering their eyes and faces, when finally the terrible sound began to fade rapidly. They raised their faces, looking in wonder to the bright blue sky that had appeared after a covering of pure black. The last few clouds of demons slipped into the pulsating hole, which then shut off with a large whump as space closed over it once again. There was complete silence as the four stood up at stared, unbelieving, at the empty space where everything had disappeared.
That lasted for about two seconds. Then came the greatest consequence that they had niavely believed they had avoided.
The whole system backfired, as if the thing had imploded, had a tiny break, and then exploded with twice as much force. Cas reached out and found the person closest to him-Dean-and he whipped his wings around to try and protect the fragile human. There was a burst if fiery air and a massive blast of shock that shook the earth and sent everyone tumbling away, before a large wall of fire swallowed them whole.
...
Closing the gates of hell was rocking the world over. It was such a bright white star burst that the explosion could be seen from space, looking like just a little fizzle and pop to the peacefully floating satellites. The seismographs in a nearby earthquake monitoring center were going crazy. Beeps were firing, needles were bouncing, machines that drew lines were spiking and falling sharply. "Hey, I think we got something!" One of the men called as he actually straightened up for the exciting parts of his job.
"Breaking News, folks! A massive what is thought to be an explosion came from upstate Kansas just a few minutes ago, rocking nearby seismographs. Could this be a possible terror attack? The US military is dispatching a garrison as we speak to see if this explosion could possibly be the result of a terrorist attack..."
...
The ground was all one dark black color, and trees had become charcoal logs radiating out from the explosion, which grew to be about ten miles in radius. Everything was smouldering. Cas wasn't sure how much time had passed that he stayed curled up with his eyes closed, trying to process what had just happened. Without even opening his eyes, he reached out with his mind to try and find any living souls.
Sam and Alfie were dead. They had both been killed on impact, and Samandriel had been shot back to heaven. Now, what was left of them was barely anything but bones.
He still felt one little soul, struggling to hold on, right there in his arms.
"Dean," he said softly, unfurling his wings slowly from the human to observe what had happened to his dear friend.
Castiel was almost extremely untouched, not even a hair on his head had been singed off. Why did the spell choose him as the one to protect from the blast? Why did he have to be the sole survivor, weren't the other three so much more deserving? Even in trying to wrap his wings around Dean, the delicate human had still suffered enough damage. Humans were just so fragile, so beautiful but so fragile... his body was dying as he looked to have been burnt alive. Bones had shattered, his lung had been punctured by a broken rib, shock had ripped up his insides... surprisingly his face was relatively untouched, he had shielded it with his arms. But when Cas looked into his eyes, they were no longer green, clear and sparkling, they were dull and clouded. He had been blinded. The scene was almost too pitiful for Castiel to bear.
"Cas?" Dean rasped out hoarsely, darting his eyes around and trying to reach for anything that gave him some bearings. Castiel felt tears stream down his cheeks, and he made no effort to wipe them away. "I'm right here. I'll stay right here," he said, taking Dean's limp hand gently and holding it. His soul was already beginning to slip away, and there was nothing Castiel could do now.
"I can't help this time, Dean. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry." The angel sobbed, nudging forward and pulling the broken Dean to curl across his lap.
"I know. I know, it's okay." Dean hoarsely whispered, trying to look into Cas's face with his blinded eyes as he stroked Cas's hand with a weak finger. Cas choked back a sob again.
"Cas, I'm scared." Dean whispered, he was barely audible. Castiel now pulled him closer onto his lap and into his chest, as he held Dean's limp head with one hand. Cas let go of holding Dean's hand and ran his fingers lightly through that dirty blonde hair, and floated his hand over his forehead, and stroked Dean's dirty cheek with his thumb slowly in a subtle, yet extremely passionate gesture. Dean's soul was slipping away quickly, like sand in an hourglass. Dean's lips lifted just the tiniest bit when he felt the gesture. Cas felt a wrentch in his chest; that was just like Dean, to smile at something nice even as he faced death.
Cas didn't think but just did: Cas leaned down to the dying solider on his lap and silently pressed his lips to his. It wasn't a peck, but it wasn't too drawn out either. It was sweet. And it was just enough to try and get across that Castiel had really loved him all along. His soul was almost gone- he had only seconds left. Dean brought shaking fingers up to his lips, touching them lightly, a longing look on his face, not knowing if what had happened was real. He looked confused, as his eyebrows drew together. He tried to look up again with those pitifully clouded eyes, but he was a bit off the mark as he spoke over Cas's shoulder.
"Why did you wait so long?" He whispered, barely audible, as tears started to stream down his face. There were mere miliseconds left.
"Dean, I lov-" Cas tried to say, but it was too late. Dean's face fell, and the light faded from his eyes. His head suddenly fell into a dead weight in Castiel's palm. Cas put the body down gently, ever so gently. Then, he just stayed there, kneeling on his knees next to the wrecked body, as he felt sobs wrack his body and he looked up to heaven as if on instinct, his deep blue eyes reflecting the light of the sky as tears endlessly dropped each time he batted those lovely eyelids. He didn't want to believe it had happened. He knew that in befriending mortals, one day this would come. They had been putting it off since the day he had met them. Still, he didn't want to believe it was real. Anticipating it hadn't made it any easier. It hurt.
The final seal was the heart of the one who survives. He looked wearily with tear-stained, deep blue eyes to where the pit had opened and swallowed all the demons. There seemed to be a little heart-shaped hole there, just barely visible with a pulsating faint glow of golden light, the final piece of the puzzle that would finally keep hell shut inside forever.
Cas was suddenly aware that another angel had arrived at the scene, and there was no mistaking his powerful and immediately recognizable aura. He looked up, and felt the two Winchester bodies disappear, being magicked away by the arriving brother.
"Gabriel," He merely stated, he had no energy or willpower to be accommodating. His brother stood about ten feet away, wearing a broken-in jacket and jeans. He tucked his hands into his jacket pockets and looked at Castiel with an uncharacteristically sad look on his face.
"What a shame. I liked those two." But there was not even a hint of a jeer in his voice. Cas looked away from his brother's face and back to the heart-shaped keyhole carved in the air. He didn't say anything for a while, there was nothing to say.
Why did you wait so long. That was what Dean's last words were. He wasn't taken aback, disgusted or embarrassed by the kiss. He had wondered why it had taken Castiel so long to finally do something. Maybe...just maybe, things could have been different for them, if only he'd known... he squeezed his eyes together and two fat tears rolled down his face.
"I'll join the war. I should have a long time ago. It shouldn't have taken a tragedy like this for me to realize what humans are really worth." Gabriel said slowly, kindly.
Cas still said nothing, and when he opened his eyes he only looked past his brother with tired eyes.
"I know I haven't been the best big brother to you. But I'm willing to try and start. I have something for you." Gabriel vanished, and Castiel quickly followed suit.
"You've been through enough, kiddo. So I... this is for you." Gabriel said, as the two men stood together on a grassy knoll next to a perfectly square, freshly dug grave.
Cas looked in to see: the open square in the ground lay in front of him, and there were Sam and Dean, separated by a body's length. Gabriel had healed the bodies up, so instead of being mangled, dirty and burned alive, or basically just a pile of blackened bones, his dear friends looked as if they were merely sleeping in the soil. The Impala was parked right in back of the grave as if it were a headstone. There was a small, shiny black plaque like a tile on the ground that simply read: "For those who carried the world on their shoulders."
Cas looked up with his eyes brimming with tears. "Will you deliver my heart?" He spoke up for the first time, and you could tell from his voice alone he was completely broken. "And is it okay... is it okay if I sleep for just a while?"
Gabriel put his arm around his brother's shaking shoulders and tilted his head so just the sides of their foreheads touched. They stood there in silence, grieving together for a few minutes, Gabriel keeping that sheltering arm over his baby brother.
Cas looked down into the grave and felt his heart squeeze. He knew this day was inevitable, but it still felt like a horrible nightmare as he stood looking in at his friends, only their bodies remaining here on earth, ready to return into the soil.
He wished for a second that he had never come to earth, but then immediately took it back. He'd rather have all of it, all the pain and suffering, everything it cost him, than to never have met these two brothers. Both had shown him immeasurable friendship. But one had lead him to love. And if he could, he would never, ever want to go back and change that.
After a while, Gabriel tightened his one-armed hug around Cas's neck and gave him a little kiss on the side if his forehead.
"Sleep tight, baby brother. I'll be here when you wake up." Castiel let tears fall from under his eyelids, while he swayed on his feet, on solid earth for the last time. When he opened them, he had transported to be lying in between the brothers. Not even thinking twice, he laced his fingers in both if their limp hands. He felt a painful tug as his heart was literally wrenched from his chest, being magicked away by Gabriel who was going to put in that final piece, finally sealing up all of hell.
Castiel felt the crushing pressure as suddenly thousands of pounds of soil appeared over him, crushing and suffocating his body. His grace rose and climbed from his human vessel like white-hot lava as he felt himself push up through the many feet of soil. He wanted to rest here on earth for just a little while, as his grace began to create a beautiful, enormous tree from the ground. His grace spread through the soil quickly, eventually forming deep roots, as the parts that reached the air solidified into a sturdy tree trunk, and split and spread out to form branches reaching out to the sun. The greenest leaves unfurled delicately, soaking in their first sun rays. Finally, the tree settled and growing halted. The grave had the appearance of being there for years; the angel's grace had created a magnificent tree that already looked at least half a century old.
There was only one peculiar thing: the tiny diagonal stars in his grace, the tiny hopes for new life, had vanished from his chest without a trace.
Dean opened his eyes slowly. He was dead, he knew that much. It had happened to him so many times that he knew the feeling already. He didn't remember much about his last few minutes on earth, it was sort of in a haze. The funny thing was he didn't mind that he was dead. He'd just given his life to save earth from all demons, ever. If that wasn't going out as a hero he didn't know what was. He never expected to live to be an old man, it was just part of the hunter's life.
He felt someone clinging to his side, peacefully asleep, as he felt warm breaths rhythmically tickle his chest. It must be one of his memories in heaven, and this little boy must be one of his versions of Sam. When he looked down he saw a tiny head of dark brown hair, but it was all wrong. This couldn't be Sam, it felt different. Dean readjusted to look at the little kid clinging to him. He had dark brown hair, a string of freckles over the bridge of his nose, white wings? The little boy opened his eyes, a pair of stunning grey stones.
"Heya, Andy." Dean said serenely, somehow knowing that he was looking at the little angel they'd been taking care of. He could just feel that this had to be him.
"We did it, Dean." The small child responded, but for some reason the way he spoke sounded so beautiful and musical. He blinked those enormous gray eyes and crawled up to be closer to Dean's chest. Dean smiled and hugged him, just lying there flat on his back. It was over, everything was over, and he could just lie here forever if he wanted to. It was the most peaceful he'd been in years.
Then, a thought occurred to him. How did he know that this was Samandriel? In fact, how was he even able to see Samandriel's true form? And if this was his heaven, where was Sam? He looked around, and something didn't feel right as he didn't even recognize the room he was in. It was a pleasant, little living room-turned-bedroom with beds everywhere where couches usually were supposed to be. Light yellow and white wallpaper covered the walls and soft sunlight was making its way through the windows drawn with thin white curtains. When he tried to get up to look around, he suddenly felt like an elephant was sitting on his chest, pinning him to the spot. Something was not right.
"Oh, good! You're up," He heard someone say in a voice that was vaguely familiar. Dean turned his head to look, unable to move his body at all. He was a tall, sandy-blonde haired teenager with a meek smile on his face as he sauntered up shyly to his older brother.
"Adam?" Dean asked, astonished. He hadn't seen the kid in years, but he looked the exact same as the last time he saw him, when he'd been pulled into the pit. Adam smiled at him, looking overall grateful. Of course, anything would have seemed great after hundreds of years in the cage.
"What am I doing here? If I'm dead, why am I not in my own heaven?" Dean immediately asked.
"It's because you're in mine. Ever since I was brought back up here from the cage, the pro-apocalypse angels avoided me like the plague. They weren't used to seeing so much of hell in heaven. But that has its advantages. I've been trying to help out as much as I can, but I've got big shoes to fill if you know what I mean." He said with a small smile. "So, you're here for your own protection." He continued, coming up to the side of his bed and taking a seat. He reached out and stroked Samandriel's wings, who cooed happily. Adam somehow seemed to have a way with angels.
"I don't get it. I thought it was all over for me, I'm dead, it should be over." He paused and looked at his little half-brother angrily. "Where's Sam." It wasn't a question, but it was a demand.
"It's best...It's best if you two were separated right now." Adam replied nervously, shifting his light blue eyes to avoid his brother's stern gaze. Like before in recognizing Samandriel, Dean somehow knew that Sam was in another room close by. He could just feel it.
There was suddenly a loud knock at the door. Adam looked concerned and got up from his seat and made his way out of the bedroom. "Stay here, Dean. I mean it." He said, glancing back at his eldest brother suspiciously. Dean trailed him with his eyes as he crossed the room and went to answer the front door down the hallway. Three angels stood in the doorway, the two on the sides supporting a drooping young woman in the middle.
"Lev poisoning in her lower arm. She should be okay with some medicine, but if not she might need to have it carved." One of the men carrying her explained in a rushed tone, as Adam reached out to replace the angel she was leaning heavily on. "I'll return her spick and span," He said with a happy voice, glad that he could help out. He went to help the young woman gently into his house, speaking in low, kind tones to her. Dean smiled a small smile, that's my brother. But then he remembered what he had wanted to do in the first place when he had a few minutes away from Adam.
Find Sam.
That thought was the only thing powerful enough to give him the strength to lift his chest, which felt like it weighed a million pounds. It hadn't been like this the last time he had died, had it?
He tried again to get up, but no matter how hard he tried he couldn't lift himself but a few inches off the bed he lie on. He tried a few more times before resting again, huffing out breaths. Why was this happening?
"Samandriel, can you go find Sammy?" He asked the little angel, who nodded and slid off of him as he went pitter-pattering down the hall. Adam came back into the room slowly, holding up the wounded angel with one arm as he helped her walk. He came back into Dean's room and set her on one of the other beds in the room. He now realized what this was; a makeshift field hospital setup.
"Show me," Adam called to her softly, taking the arm that she had tucked close to her body. Dean finally saw what Cas had told him before about the new weapons. There was a deep, tarry hole in her forearm close to her wrist, and dark black polluted the veins stretching out from that point. Adam had taken his tool kit off of the close by shelf and already had it in his lap, holding a few tools in his teeth as he dug around quickly for more.
He said nothing as he looked up with determined, light blue eyes and gently placed a wooden bit into the young woman's mouth. He reached into the ping-pong ball sized pit with a pair of tweezers to bring out the bullet, and the angel bit hard into the wood and tried not to make much noise. It looked gross: the bullet pulled away with a long stand still sticking to it, which Adam broke off with a swift flick of the wrist. He took the bullet (was it really writhing like that, or was it just Dean's imagination?) and strapped it tight into a tiny metal box he'd taken from his tool box.
Dean had to look away as Adam took out all sorts of other tools to start cleaning the wound- for some reason that sticky, tar-like substance was making him feel sick to his stomach. It looked like poison, and he shuddered every time he saw those black veins, knowing that the dark poison was pumping through the angel's body right in that instant. He found these thoughts peculiar as well: since when had he been so squeamish?
"Adam," Dean called out to his brother, when he sneaked a peak and saw that Adam was finally wrapping up the angel's arm with white cloth.
"Yes?" Adam called back to him patiently, as he tied off the cloth and gave the woman's arm a tiny, hopeful pat.
"Why...why am I so heavy?" Dean asked, again trying and failing to even lift his chest just a few inches.
"You..." Adam started, and went to stare back at the she-angel. Dean could tell he was wanting to straight up lie to him, that he was thinking very strongly about it. "Let's just say things are a little different this time around."
Dean felt annoyed. That was all he was going to tell him? "C'mon, Adam. Please tell me. I'm dead anyway, it's not like I have anything to lose!"
Adam looked at him right in the eye as he went to get rid of the tiny metal box that held the living Leviathan bullet inside, leaving to get rid of it. "Stop saying you're dead, Dean. I don't think you are. Not really, anyway."
"What is that supposed to mean?" He called out, frustrated, to his little brother, who was just slipping out of the bedroom. He sighed and sunk back into the bed. Godammit, he wanted to move already. He wanted to get up and stretch his legs, he wanted to run and jump and walk. He wanted to see Sammy again.
"Do you have any idea what's going on?" Dean asked the angel who he was now sharing a room with, and there would undoubtedly be more people in the room judging by the other beds. She was quite pretty- with long, straight blonde hair, chocolate brown eyes and a kind-looking face. Then, like when Castiel had given him his sight for just an hour back when they'd traded the tablet off to Crowley, he was able to look past the body she was wearing into the depths. She had stars unmoving in her white nebula of grace too, he counted them. Seven. He looked at what she really looked like. She had curly, ringlet brown hair and amethyst eyes.
"You want to know why you can't get up?" She asked in a kind voice, it was the same as when Samandriel had talked to him before, musical, pretty, uplifting. He would probably say that if language could sound like lace, this would be it. He was almost dumbfounded at how beautiful it sounded.
"Uh, yeah." He replied lamely, suddenly feeling like his voice was so plain and obniouxious-sounding. She looked at him with her two layers of eyes, brown and amethyst at the same time, and answered.
"It appears as if you have a heavy soul. You must not be used to so much of it." She answered him, her words almost giving him goosebumps like when music suddenly strikes that one, perfect-sounding note.
"What do you mean too much of 'it'? What exactly is that?" He asked quickly, wanting to get as many answers as possible before Adam came back and worked to try and keep him in the dark.
"Grace. You are only used to the small amount that humans usually have, the amount that you call 'soul.' Now, it seems like you-"
"Leilias. I think that's enough." Adam came back into the room, cutting her off with a slightly loud voice, sounding almost panicked. Dean threw his hands up in desperation. He was suddenly filled with anger.
"I deserve to know what is going on, Adam! You owe me that much!" Dean yelled, and for some reason he finally had the strength to sit up on his bed. He swayed dangerously, but held on. He didn't want to fall and be pinned down on his back again.
"I...I'll tell you once you lie back down, okay?" Adam said, sounding scared. He raised his hands up in an innocent gesture. "Please, Dean. I don't want to keep things from you anymore than you want to hear them, but I need to keep my word-"
Dean pushed up onto his legs with all the physical and mental strength he could muster, and Adam's blue eyes grew wide as he tried to go up to the standing Dean and put him back on the bed, but he found he couldn't move. Then, he looked down to see what was restraining him. Leilias had grabbed his wrist and was holding it tightly with her good arm, and Adam was powerless even against a wounded angel. She winked at Dean and drew Adam closer. Dean, somehow finding it was getting easier and easier now that he had managed to stand up, made for the door.
"He's going to find out sooner or later. You can't frustrate him like that anymore." She said kindly to Adam. "Let go." Adam said, fear still dancing behind his blue irises. Lelias let go gently, and give him a look as if to tell him to do the right thing. Adam quickly gave her a curt nod and sprinted out towards the door.
"Dean, stop!" He called out loudly, darting out of the bedroom door and trying to follow him down the hall. Dean turned his head to see Adam in pursuit, and right away the door that separated the two of them, the entrance to the hall from the living room slammed with such force that it shook the walls. Adam could be heard pounding on the other side of the door.
"Dean, please! I'm only doing what Castiel told me to do! Please come back," He said from behind the door, sounding heartbroken. Dean perked up just a little at the mention of Castiel's name, but kept going. He needed to find Sam, everything else would have to come second.
He finally came up to the door that he could tell contained his brother. "Sam? Sammy?" He called out as he forced open the doorknob. He looked inside the small, ocean-themed guest bedroom, and saw Andy and Sam lying together on one of the beds. Dean strode up quickly, took Sam's outstretched hand (he'd had a hard time getting up as well) and lifted him so he was standing right in front of him.
"Dean," Sam breathed out, smiling so wide he looked almost goofy. He only needed to say that one word to let him know everything. They had done it together, saved so many people, died together for an extremely worthy cause- what else was there to ask for?
They immedietely hugged and clung to each other tightly, not needing to say anything to each other as everything they could have said was already understood.
When Dean opened his eyes, still in his brother's embrace, he saw something that made his heart stop and his body go ridgid.
"What is it?" Sam asked fearfully as Dean pulled away. "Dean, what?" He looked confused and hurt.
"You... it looks like...no way, there's just no way." He muttered to himself, closing up and holding his arms to himself. "It's just not possible."
"What are you talking about?" Sam asked in a panicked voice. What had been so extreme to cause Dean to act like this?
Dean pointed to the thing he had seen. A pair of small, shiny, earthy brown wings that were sprouting from Sam's back.
Sam twirled to try and see- once he did he stopped right in his tracks, frozen in place. He looked up at his brother with wide eyes.
"Dean." He said, not even needing to point for Dean to understand. Samandriel had come up to Dean's side and was clinging to his leg.
"Yours are pretty," the little angel smiled, reaching up and Dean went entirely stiff as he felt a tickling sensation coming from outside of his normal range of body parts. Samandriel had stroked the bottoms of the feathers from Dean's small, costume-sized wings. They were a deep butterscotch color that had sheens of gold on the feathers.
Adam finally bust in. Panting, he saw the brother's shocked expressions and wiped his forehead. "I guess I have some explaining to do, huh?" He said wearily, feeling guilty that he hadn't been able to keep his promise to Castiel for very long.
...
Adam had gathered them in the kitchen, where Sam and Dean sat on barstools, looking impatient, as Leilias and two other angels in recovery, there to heal in Adam's protective sphere, sat sipping hot tea.
Adam was working hard at the sink to scrub away and clean the tools he used to help the injured angel that had just come in. He cleaned as he began to talk to his older half-brothers, still looking guilty that they'd found out so quickly.
"Cas came to me just a little while after I was brought back to heaven. It was then that he told me his plan. I'd already started helping angels, and I've learned so much about them since. So when he told me about his quotas, I agreed to help. His wishes were for you two to get accomidated first before I told you what had happened. Guess I blew that one, though." He explained in his soft, doctor's bedside-table like tone. Dammit, angel-protector, field nurse, good guy Adam 2.0 was very difficult to stay mad at.
"Do you mean that those little stars-" Sam started, and was quickly interrupted by Adam.
"Yes. They were meant for you two. That was his plan for a long time, ever since the Internal Grace stopped working."
"But, first of all how? And second of all, why?" Dean asked in a soft voice. He still couldn't get over his shock. He still couldn't even confess it to himself, there was just no way any of this could be happening.
"I'm not sure if he explained to you how the 'stars' work. They aren't related to genetics at all, but just tiny, highly condensed balls of grace. Now, the human soul is also made up of grace, but it's such a tiny amount that is nowhere near that of an angel's. Still, we share just that one similarity with the angels. You two are aware how demons are created, right? From human souls, originally. So why can't humans become angels as well? All that happened was he added his quotas to your graces -souls- ,and they built into one another until the human soul beame thicker and stronger, turning it into an angel's. As for why-" He paused and gritted his teeth as he put some extra elbow grease into cleaning one of his stubborn instruments.
"I'm not sure why. It was probably easier considering you two are already Saints. Human Saints sometimes choose to become angels. Also, he loves both of you. He's looking out for you two as well as heaven; you two might be very useful in this war." he finally finished, looking up into their disbelieving faces.
"Where is Cas now?" Sam asked, putting his head down to rest on his large arms that were folded up under him. He felt much too overwhelmed at what had become of him and his brother.
"He's, hmm, taking a short break. Angels can't sleep, and doing things like what he's doing are the only ways they can rest. He'll be back soon enough. But for now, we need to get you two ready. Gabriel's just joined the war. Because of both of you, in fact. And once he's really fired up, this war is going to pick up really quick and burn itself out. And you are both going to help."
Sam and Dean turned their faces to look at each other. Bright green eyes met the dark blue, and they understood. They would get through this. Even in death, they never stopped having to be heroes. Dean's newfound dark gold wings fluttered softly, unconsciously, as he nodded curtly to his little brother. This was their new reality, whether they chose it or not. They'd saved humanity. Now, it was time to turn their attention to their newly acquired heavenly family. What were they to expect? A Winchester's job was never finished. Not really.