Sam stretched out in the dog park that now grew familiar to him and sighed. Gabriel sun bathed beside him. When the world ended, as it most certainly would one day with everything they have had to face over the years, Sam hoped the sun would still shine down on him until the end. The sun, the birds, the gentle breeze, and Gabriel. That was all he needed.
Sam's phone rang, and he furrowed his brow in an effort to ignore it. Gabriel whined beside him.
"I know it's Dean," Sam said annoyed. Gabe lifted his head and nuzzled at Sam's hand.
"I'm not going to answer it yet. Not until I know where to tell him to go." Gabriel whined at this, a loud shrill sound, and Sam sighed. "I need to do it this way. Castiel would never let Dean risk himself like this otherwise. He will be okay. You trust me, don't you Gabe."
His dog didn't answer him.
"So good to see you again, Samantha," Crowley said, announcing his abrupt arrival and Sam sat up to look at the demon standing over him. Gabe sat up as well, wagging his tail at the shorter man's arrival, and Crowley slipped his hand in his pocket. He pulled out a purple elephant chew toy, handing it to Sam's dog, and Gabriel yipped his excitement at something to occupy his teeth on.
"Odd how he's an angel and yet-"
"Very much a dog," Sam finished and the two men met each other's eyes.
"It doesn't bother you, the attention I give him?" Crowley asked and Sam shrugged.
"Gabe is my friend. I don't own him. If he enjoys your company, I won't judge him for it. Do you have good news for me, Crowley?" The Demon crouched down, reaching out for Gabriel, and the dog responded immediately by crowding into his arms. Crowley sunk his fingers into the dog's fur and his smile appeared genuine.
"So much softer than a hell hound," he whispered, "with a lot less teeth." Sam waited while Crowley petted. Eventually the demon would have to answer him and Sam was not about to beg or plead.
Crowley surprised Sam with his affections. One moment, he was petting Gabriel's thicker fur around his neck, and the next he leaned over and placed a soft kiss on the dog's head. Gabriel looked up at Crowley; his deep brown eyes absorbing and processing what had just occurred, and Crowley pulled away suddenly. He got to his feet once more and cleared his throat. Sam had no idea what to make of the exchange.
"Yes," Crowley said, brushing at his hands, "I have news. I can arrange for your army to be in attendance next week as you described."
"An army of how many?" Sam asked, suspicious.
"Approximately ten thousand demons will be in attendance," Crowley said and Sam couldn't help the sharp inhalation of breath through his teeth. Ten thousand demons. His blood felt like ice.
"You will have meat suits for all of them?" Sam asked softly. He didn't want to think about all those people. All those bodies. Greater things were at stake and a lot more lives if Lucifer was able to get ahold of his vessel.
"We will shop at the hospitals, Sam. That and the prisons. Anything to spare your conscious any more strain than it is already experiencing."
"I need to ferret out Serrath. When I know when and where, I will let you know," Sam said decisively and Crowley nodded. He glanced at Gabriel one last time. Gabe sat with his tail swaying lazily and the new chew toy in his mouth. He dropped it to the ground and huffed softly at Crowley.
"You're welcome," Crowley said, sounding almost endearing, and a small smile touched his lips. Then in the blink of an eye, he was gone.
Dean listened to Sam's voicemail, but snapped his phone shut without leaving a message. His stomach rolled with the premonition that Sam was in danger, but if his brother wasn't going to talk to him, he couldn't do much to help him out of it.
That vision of Sam surrounded by an army burned through Dean's mind so vividly, he was convinced it wasn't just a dream. It couldn't be. Something terrible was just on the horizon and he felt about as helpless as Castiel did to stop it.
Cas…
Dean shifted on the ground, trying to work some of the numbness out of his ass. He had not moved from the spot Eros's told him to stay in and in fact spent the entire night sitting in the woods. He knew it was foolish. He knew that he could easily just walk back to the bunker and have a nice hot plate of anything right about now 'cause he was fucking starving to death here…but some nonsensical part of his mind worried that if he moved away from the spot he was told to stay at, Castiel would die. He couldn't risk it. So he stayed.
He tried calling Cas's cell phone a few times. Not that he really expected an answer but more so that he could hear the angel's voice. It had been months since they had been apart. Not since that time so long ago when Dean thought Cas didn't care about him anymore and Cas was off with Eros trying to find a way to protect Dean from the war that was about to overtake all of them. He got so used to having Cas around all the time and have the comfort that gave him. To be absent of his lover for so long; Dean felt lost.
His head hurt; his heart hurt; his body hurt from the cold night seeping into his bones, and he just needed for Cas to come back and be okay. He felt so stupid for not listening to Eros in the first place. For thinking he had a handle on all of this.
"Don't beat yourself up," a voice said and suddenly Cas was there, standing over him, looking down on him with a smile.
"Cas!" Dean about cried and scrambled to his feet. His hands were all over Cas in an instant. Looking for any signs of distress or injury. His color was back to normal and he didn't seem so delirious has he had the day before. His eyes were bright and a halfcocked smile remained plastered to his face. "God, you're gorgeous." Dean said without even thinking and Castiel laughed.
"Just because I fixed part of the problem doesn't mean you can keep on projecting like you are, Dean," Eros said and Dean almost groaned when he saw the boy angel appear behind Cas. He was grateful to Eros, no mistaking it, since he obviously saved Cas's life, but he also hated how the overly protective angel was such a nag.
"Good to see you again too, Eros," he said sarcastically.
"No, Dean. It is not good," Eros said and his dark eyes were all business. "We need to fix this right now before Castiel almost dies again."
"Eros," Cas said softly, trying to reign his brother in but Dean held up a hand.
"No, Cas, he's right. Eros, please. Tell me what I need to do and I'll do it." Eros studied him for a moment, dark eyes twinkling mischievously, and then he nodded his head and smiled.
"Good. Because I have a lot to teach you." He turned on his heel and walked back to the bunker leaving Cas and Dean to follow. They approached the door and Eros winked out of sight; preferring to use his wings to get inside instead of the old fashioned way of door knobs and stairs, but Dean was grateful. Having the moment alone, he pulled Cas into an embrace and hugged the angel tightly against him.
"Don't scare me like that again," Dean rumbled, his voice suddenly hoarse, and Cas's hands ran gently up his back to cup at his shoulders.
"I'm sorry, Dean. I enjoyed listening to your thoughts. I thought I could handle all the emotions that went along with it…but I was wrong." Cas pulled him tighter then, nuzzling his nose against Dean's neck. "You have such beautiful thoughts, Dean."
Flashing through a few of those 'beautiful thoughts' in his mind, Dean pulled away to clear his throat and turned to hide his blush. He moved toward the door.
"Well let's find out what Eros has in store for us this time," he threw over his shoulder, and Castiel followed him inside.
Castiel watched Dean's eyes light up when Eros placed the fulcrum between them. It was new, but it didn't shine like the silvery scrolling artwork of the Recurves that Cas has seen before. Instead this was more rustic. Made for functionality and not for luster. Eros was not showing off, he was constructing for purpose and use alone. Regardless of this, Castiel was convinced that this was Eros's finest work. It was beyond anything he has ever brought into creation before it.
"What is it?" Dean whispered, awe apparent on his face. Eros smiled. He always liked when his efforts were appreciated and the way Dean was worshiping his new fulcrum had the angel about giddy.
"It is a machete. And it is yours," Eros said, delighted and Dean's eyes locked with his. He was a bit in shock, somewhat disbelieving, but the sincerity on Eros's face won Dean over and he smiled. Which of course, made Castiel smile.
The fulcrum had a long thick handle about eight inches in length that was wrapped in a thick leather cord for grip. The blade that extended out past that was the color of iron but far stronger than any substance on Earth. It was forged in the fire of Castiel's Grace.
The blade extended for about a foot and a half past the hilt and curved slightly at the end to a wide tip. Holes were wrought into the blade to allow for blood wicking during penetrative thrusts, and a jagged stretch along the top of the blade near the hilt provided opportunity to tear open flesh if needed. It was really a ruthless device, and Dean was about orgasmic when holding it.
"The balance is perfect. It's like this blade was meant for me," he said reverently.
"It was meant for you," Eros said patiently, "only you will be able to wield it." Dean looked up at Eros then, intrigued.
"What happens if someone else tries to use it that isn't me?" He asked and Eros's grin turned sinister.
"They will not live to tell the tale. Hopefully you'll get the opportunity to see it for yourself some time. There is something important about this blade though," Eros said and placed a finger gingerly against the blade's tip. "The color of this blade is unique. It is the essence that is Castiel. It is purely his Grace." Bemused, Eros turned and looked at Castiel then. A bit of that old big-brother-worship in his eyes and it warmed Castiel's heart to see it.
"Ironically," he said softly, "it is the same color as Castiel's wings. I have always thought his wings the most beautiful in the angelic host." Dean looked up at Cas at hearing this and Castiel blushed furiously. He didn't deserve Eros's compliment. Castiel's wings were darker than ash. They weren't always that way though. They changed color because of how they were damaged during his journey through hell. He was deformed. Crippled. Eros was identifying beauty in something any other angel would consider ugly. It flooded Castiel's heart with so much sentiment that it threatened to spill from his eyes. He blinked quickly to hide his tears.
"So…what does that mean then?" Dean asked a bit breathlessly but his eyes remained on Castiel.
"As you use the blade, the color will fade. Castiel will need to recharge it with his Grace. It sustains him, you see. It gives an outlet to regularly expel his energy upon, and in truth no weapon could maintain so much energy without hosting an angel spirit inside of it the way my Recurves do. It will need to be recharged regularly."
"Well that's great!" Dean said clapping his hands together and then rubbing them greedily. "So what makes the blade so special, Eros? Does it kill demons or something?" Dean reached out gingerly and scooped the machete into his hand once more. Eros looked at him, astonished.
"Dean…that machete kills everything." Dean looked up at him, blinking.
"Come again?"
"Everything, Dean. Nothing in existence will be left alive at the end of your machete."