Chapter 30

Then:

"No, I know I have to," I say quietly, "I just...can I have a little time to think it over?"

"Yes," Sam answers before Dean gets a chance to.

"Dude," Dean protests, but Sam glares at him until he grudgingly nods. "Yeah, yeah. Take your time."

"Thanks." I slip the cord around my neck and the crystal rests at the hollow of my throat. It's warm and comforting, as if it's meant to be in contact with me, and we quietly pack up the laptop and get back into the Impala.

Neither Winchester says a word to me, so I lean against the window of the car and close my eyes. All I can see is Gabriel's face, and tears trickle down from beneath my closed eyelids.

Now:

A few days pass without much fanfare. Sam and Dean comb through cases, searching for any sign of Pestilence or Death, while I make a half-hearted attempt to help and fail miserably. Bobby tries to talk to me on the phone once or twice, but I barely hear anything he says and end up giving the phone back to Sam after a few minutes of trying to hold a conversation.

It's like all my senses have dulled after Gabriel's death, and my entire focus narrows down to the crystal hanging around my neck. I wish I had gotten to see Gabriel at least once with all the memories I remember now. If I had known all this stuff back then...maybe I would've done things differently, been less awkward around him, changed something.

I just want another chance with my family now.

I take to rolling the crystal around in my fingers absently, the Grace inside warming my hands as I play with it, and that's what Sam and Dean find me doing when they return to the Impala after following up a lead in a hospital.

"Knock it off before you burn yourself," Dean scolds as he slides into the driver's seat.

"It doesn't hurt." If anything, it's like a cup of hot chocolate on a cold winter's day, comforting and stable. "Did you find anything?"

"Yeah, a huge case of swine flu, over seventy infected," Sam answers.

"I'm guessing that's not normal," I say. I remember the huge swine flu craze back when I had been in high school in the other world - in fact, I distinctly remember my History teacher making fun of it by jumping on a desk and spraying us with sanitizer. Yeah, he'd always been a little nuts.

"Yeah, definitely not." Sam tugs out his phone and dials Bobby's number, setting it on speaker.

"Let me guess, another steamin' pile of swine flu," Bobby says as soon as he picks up.

"Yep," Dean confirms.

"It doesn't make any sense, Bobby. Pestilence touched down here. I'm sure of it," Sam protests.

"But why is he dealing them soft serve like swine flu when he's got the Croatoan virus up his sleeve?" Dean adds.

"I guess we should be glad it's not the Croatoan," I point out, remembering the virus from the second season of Supernatural, which seems like a lifetime ago. Had it really been less than a year?

"Doesn't matter what the sick son of a bitch is doing, what matters is this is the fourth town he's hit and we're still eating his dust." Wow, have I really been that out of it? I hadn't even noticed the other three leads. "Did you get anything? We got even a snowball at probable next target?"

"Uhh, no pattern we can see," Sam says, shuffling through papers in his lap.

Bobby sighs. "Well, far as I can tell, he's still heading east, so head east."

"Bobby, we're in west Nevada," Dean deadpans, "There's nowhere but east."

"Start drivin', then." Bobby clicks off the phone.

"Say, I've got an idea." I don't expect the British accent suddenly next to me and I yelp at the sudden appearance of a man in a black suit beside me. Sam whirls around to stab him with the demon-killing knife as Dean swerves accidentally. I end up against the door and the knife ends up in the upholstery of the car as the man vanishes. We catch our breaths, but then the man reappears outside the car, tapping on Dean's window. "Fancy a fag and a chat?"

"Who the hell is he?" I demand as we get out of the car.

"Right, you two haven't met. Ariel, Crowley. Crowley, Ariel." Dean gestures vaguely between us, irritated.

"The demon?" I glance at Crowley, remembering that he had been the one to give us the Colt before we had faced Lucifer in Carthage.

"King of the crossroads, actually. Pleasure." Crowley's dark eyes remain on me and I squirm uncomfortably. "Well, now, this can't be the lost archangel. Far too scrawny."

"Excuse you." I scowl. "I could kick your ass a hundred ways from Tuesday, if I so chose."

"Yes, yes, we're all very impressed, darling." Crowley looks bored as he returns his attention to Dean and Sam. "You're upset. We should discuss it. Not here, but-"

"You want to talk? After what you did to us?" Sam snaps.

"What I did?!" Crowley balks. "I gave you the Colt!"

"Yeah, and you knew it wouldn't work against the Devil!"

"I never!" Crowley looks offended.

"You set us up. We lost people on that suicide run, good people!" My chest clenches at the memory of Ellen and Jo.

"Who you take on the ride is your own business! Look, everything is still the same. W-we're all still in this together." I catch the stammer and realize he's actually afraid. Whatever has happened now, Crowley is genuinely frightened for his life.

"Sure we are." Sam tries to stab him again, but he disappears, hiding behind me.

"Call your dog off," he begs me and I shrug as I turn to face him. I'm not sure why, but I'm much less afraid of him than I think I should be. Maybe it's the return of my archangelic memories, or maybe it's because I don't feel much of anything after Gabriel. Either way, I prefer this to flinching whenever a demon comes near me.

"He hardly ever listens to me, even if you do give me a good reason to."

"I can give you Pestilence." I raise an eyebrow, intrigued, as I cross my arms.

"What do you know about Pestilence?" Dean asks over my shoulder.

"I know how to get him. That's got your interest, doesn't it?" Crowley looks hopeful.

"You're actually listening to this," Sam says to us, sounding disgusted, "Are you friggin' nuts?!"

"Sam." He falls silent at my tone, surprised at how stern it is. I don't think I've ever spoken to anyone like that since I fell from Heaven. Even Crowley looks impressed when I turn back to him. "Start talking."

"Look, I swear I thought the Colt would work. It's an honest mistake. It's all part of the learning process. But nothing's changed. I still want the Devil dead. Well...one thing's changed. Now the Devil knows that I want him dead. Which, by the way, makes me the most buggered son in all of creation."

"Holy crap, we don't care," Dean groans.

"They burnt down my house! They ate my tailor! Two months under a rock, like a bloody salamander! Every demon on hell and Earth's got his eyes out for me!" Crowley yells, losing his temper, "And yet here I am, last place I should be, in the road talking to the Winchesters and their pet archangel, under a friggin' spotlight!" With a wild gesture, the streetlamp above us bursts. Crowley sighs and calms down enough to say, "So come with me. Please. Do you want the Horsemen rings or not?" Seeing our stunned expressions, he rolls his eyes. "Yes, I know all about that. Shall we?"

Sam and Dean look at me and I wonder when I became the go-to person for permission to trust a demon as I nod reluctantly. Crowley clicks his fingers and we're suddenly in a dilapidated old house with cracked windows and dim lighting.

"Here we are," Crowley laments, "My life on the lam. How the mighty have fallen. Single-pane glass, used contraception in the fireplace. The water damage alone-"

"Yeah, yeah, our hearts bleed for you," Dean cuts him off and I'm mildly relieved at the interruption as I inch away from the dirty fireplace. "Now how do you know about the rings?"

"I've been keeping an eye on you lot."

"We got hex bags, we're hidden from demons," Sam points out.

"All but one. That night you broke into my house, our first date, my valet hid a tracking device in your car." I haven't seen anything of that nature, so I'm surprised when Crowley elaborates, "A magical coin that easily trumps your little bags o' bones. It allows me to hear things, too, and my, the things I heard." He chuckles and I have to resist the urge to punch him. "So you want to cram the Devil back in the box? Cunning scheme. I want in."

"You said you could get us Pestilence," I remind him, forcing down my anger.

"Well, now, I don't know where Pestilence is...per se. But I do know the demon who does. He's what you might call the Horsemen's stable boy. He handles their itineraries, their personal needs. He's who you want, believe me. He'll tell us where Sneezy's at."

"Well, how do we get him to spill? Rip out his toenails?" Dean suggests and I grimace at the mental image.

"No. Nuts at his pay grade don't crack. We bring him here, then I sell him," Crowley corrects. Seeing our confused looks, he rolls his eyes. "Please. I've sold sin to saints for centuries. Think I can't close one little demon?"

"All right, so where's this demon of yours?" Dean crosses his arms.

"Niveus Pharmaceuticals. In fact, he's the CEO."

"Awesome, so now we're infiltrating industries, too," I deadpan, "Good to know."

"Give us some time to talk," Sam says stiffly to Crowley, who shrugs.

"Suit yourself, mate. Five minutes." He wanders into a different room and the instant he shuts the door, Sam whirls on us.

"Why are we even listening to him?! This is totally insane!"

"I know," Dean says, grimacing, "But if we can get a lead on Pestilence-"

"Yeah, and since when has trusting a demon gone well for us?!"

"And you'd be the expert on that now, wouldn't you?" Dean retorts sharply.

"Hey, this isn't about Ruby anymore," I interrupt when Sam's eyes widen in hurt and anger. "I believe Crowley about not knowing about the Colt, but this just seems a little too convenient for our purpose, doesn't it?"

"What else can you think of, Air?" Dean turns tired eyes on me. "Unless you can track Pestilence down using your nifty little power-gadget there-" He gestures vaguely at my Grace. "-we're fresh outta luck."

"I can't, anyway," I dismiss, grimacing when I realize he's got a point.

"I still don't like it," Sam decides, scowling.

"One big happy family, are we, then? Fantastic." Crowley pops up again. "Sam, keep the home fires burning."

"What are you talking about?" Dean demands, raising an eyebrow.

"Sam's not coming," Crowley says simply.

"And why the hell not?" Sam snaps.

"Because I don't like you, I don't trust you, and...oh, yeah, you tried to kill me!" Crowley retorts furiously.

"There's no damn way. This isn't gonna happen!"

"I'm not asking you, am I? 'Cause you're not invited. I'm asking you." Crowley nods to Dean. "So what's it gonna be?" When Dean remains silent, Crowley scoffs. "Well, then, enjoy your last sunsets."

"Wait, I'll go," Dean says suddenly. Sam shoots him a bewildered look. "What can I say? I believe the guy."

"Right, then. Let's go, little archangel." I stay where I am and Crowley pauses in the doorway, looking at me. "Well, what now?"

"Why do I have to go?" I ask. It's not that I mind, it's just a matter of what use I'd be to them.

"Are you joking? Activate that thing 'round your neck and you'd be a perfect weapon!" Crowley protests and my decision makes itself for me. I take a step back towards Sam, clutching the crystal around my neck protectively and shaking my head.

"I'm not taking my Grace back. Not yet." I'm not ready, I know I'm not. I don't know what will happen if I smash the crystal, and I'm scared of what I might become if my powers return.

"Why, you little..." Crowley snarls.

"Hey!" Dean cuts in, "The kid made her choice, you either respect that or the deal's off." He glances at me and I shake my head again, confirming my decision. Sam squeezes my shoulder as Crowley huffs and storms out. Dean follows him and we watch the Impala drive away.

"Thanks for staying," Sam says quietly and I shrug.

"Wasn't doing it for you, but that's a plus." He shoves my shoulder affectionately and I punch him back, unable to keep from smiling. It's the first time I've done so since Gabriel's death, and my facial muscles are stiff from lack of use, but Sam smiles back all the same, all the anger melting from his face.

"So you remember everything now?" Sam had tried talking to me about my returned memories before, but I had barely been able to reply then, still grieving for Gabriel and living in my own head. Even now, I feel like everything's falling to pieces, but it's like something in me's cleared up and I can register the world around me again.

"Yeah. It's weird. I can remember things from, like, the dawn of time all the way up to now." Sam's surprise is evident on his face and I grin wryly. "I am literally older than dirt, dude, and now I know it. Feel free to ask about the creation of the planet and stuff."

"Do you remember what God looked like?"

Of course that would be what he asks me first. "Kind of. Like...I remember being created. It was just everywhere and then I just existed. I can't really describe things like the color of His eyes, or how His face looked, but I remember His hands when He picked me up. They were big and worn, like He worked with them a lot. I didn't see Him much after I was born. Michael was probably the one to see Him most before everything went to shit."

Sam looks as if he's received Revelation or something. Well, I guess he sort of has. "And you said you raised Castiel, right?"

"Yeah. I wish you could've seen him, he still had the same big blue eyes he's got now." I can't help but grin. "And these tiny little black wings that just kept flapping whenever he got excited, it was adorable."

Sam chuckles. "Yeah, I guess I can imagine that." His smile falters as he looks back up at me. "Are you okay? You know, after, uh...?"

"Gabriel?" I finish for him and he nods. "I don't think it's ever gonna stop hurting, not now that I remember everything we'd been through together, but...it's easier than it was a few days ago."

"At least you're talking now." I make a face at him, but he only grins and I can't be mad.

Sam's phone goes off then and he gets up to answer it while mouthing "Bobby" at me, walking into the other room. I let the silence settle in the room, toying with the crystal around my neck and letting it warm my cold fingers as I let my mind wander over newly-recalled memories. I'm prone to doing that nowadays, as a way of stretching my mind and exploring all the stuff that had once been just someone else's life, but is now mine.

"Why do you insist on tormenting Michael with your inane pranks?" Ariel demands quietly as she plucks loose feathers out of Gabriel's wings. He winces with each tug.

"Hey, it's not my fault Michael's got a stick up his-"

"Watch it," she warns.

"I was gonna say 'butt,'" he grumbles.

"Sure you were." She runs her fingers over the top ridge of his wing gently, soothing the pain of tugging feathers out. She loves how soft her brother's wings feel beneath her touch. "You really should groom these more."

"Don't have time." He closes his eyes at her gentle touch and she cards her fingers through his hair as she works on smoothing out his wings with her other hand. "Not when I'm delivering messages for Dad and tricking Michael."

"Well, maybe if you cut back on the latter-" she begins to point out with a wry smile.

"How dare you?!" He gives her a mock-offended look and she laughs before going back to stroking down his feathers and straightening them.

"You're an idiot."

"I'm still your idiot, aren't I?" He grins lopsidedly at her.

"Yes, you are." She kisses his forehead tenderly. "And I wouldn't trade you for anything, brother."

"You know the rule, sis, no girly moments." He glares mildly and she chuckles and surrenders, taking a step back.

"You're done."

"Want me to do yours?" He nods to her wings, which are in a permanent state of disarray, and she rolls her eyes.

"They'd only get messy again in five minutes, you know they've got minds of their own. And anyway, I've got to get back to Raphael in the infirmary, we have work to do." She turns to leave, but Gabriel catches her hand.

"Hey, um...what you said...me, too. For you, I mean." He has never been as open with his feelings as she has, but she doesn't mind. She understands what he means better than any other angel, or even God, ever would.

"I love you, too." She leans down to kiss his cheek before disappearing for the infirmary.

"Air?" I snap out of the memory to find Sam leaning over the table, frowning. He must have finished his conversation with Bobby and returned while I was still remembering. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I was just remembering." I lift up the crystal slightly to show him and his face clears in understanding.

"What about?"

"Nothing important." That's a lie; to me, even the tiniest moment with Gabriel had always been the most important, but I guess Sam wouldn't see it that way. "What did you and Bobby talk about?"

Sam's expression is oddly shuttered now and I wonder what he's hiding from me when he replies, "He just wanted to know what was going on. I told him about Dean and Crowley."

"Okay...?" I frown at him. "Are you hiding something from me?" I've learned that it's best to be blunt with the Winchesters when I want something, or they'll never understand what I'm asking.

"I'll tell you later," he says and when I continue to glare, he raises his hands in surrender, "Promise. When Dean and Bobby are with us and this mess with Crowley's over." I huff and give up.

It's another hour before Dean and Crowley return, but only Crowley comes into the house.

"Where's Dean?" Sam demands.

"Now for the record, I'm against this. Negotiating a high-level defection...it's very delicate business."

"What're you talking about?" I pipe up, bewildered.

"I begged Dean not to come back. We should be miles away...from you." Crowley looks at Sam. "He replied with a colorful rejoinder about my 'corn chute.'" Sam snorts humorlessly. "So go ahead. Go ruin our last best hope. It's only the end of the world." Sam shoves past Crowley into the other room and I follow the hunter.

There's a man with a sack over his head, bloodied and dirty, and Dean's standing over him, tying him to a chair.

"What's going on, Dean?" Sam asks when Dean looks up at us.

"I need you to stay on mission, okay? Focused." Well, that's a weird choice of words. "I'm doing this 'cause I trust you."

Normally, I'd be thrilled that Dean's showing a sign of faith in Sam after all this time, but all I can think to say is, "Trust him to do what?"

"Seriously, Dean, what's this all about?" Sam adds.

"Sam?" the man under the hood says suddenly, "Sam, is that you?" Grudgingly, Dean removes the hood to reveal a relatively handsome young man about Sam's age with a bloody face.

"Brady?" Sam gasps. How does Sam know him?

"Brady" chuckles. "Brady hasn't been Brady in years. Not since, oh..middle of our sophomore year?"

"What?" Sam takes a step back, stunned.

"That's right. You had a devil on your shoulder even back then." Brady pauses, a wicked grin tugging at his lips. "All right, now, let it all sink in."

"You son of a bitch." Sam's breathing grows rapid and I have to grab his arm as he lunges forward abruptly. "You son of a bitch!" Dean grabs Sam's other arm, helping me force him back. "You introduced me to Jess!" I'm half-tempted to let Sam go to wreak his vengeance when I hear that.

"Ding, ding, ding, I think he's got it!" Brady laughs despite the pain he's obviously in.

"Let me go!" Sam snarls at me and Dean, "I'm gonna kill him!"

"Damn it, Sam, listen to yourself!" I try to reason with him, but he swings the arm I'm grasping at me, catching me in the mouth as I stumble back in shock. I can taste blood in my mouth and the fight drains out of Sam when he sees it, his eyes widening in horror.

"Air-" Before he can say anything else, Dean forces him out of the room. I can hear him demanding for Dean to get out of the way as the door swings shut behind him, but I can't bring myself to follow them and tell Sam it's okay. My lip stings and it's like my "give a damn" function is broken. I'm numb inside and I can't feel anything but dull pain everywhere.

"Ooh, he has changed since college," Brady says cheerfully and I wheel around to glare at him.

"Keep your mouth shut, demon."

"So you're the little archangel the boss was talking about." Brady tilts his head. "Gotta say, I don't see the family resemblance."

My fists clench, but I force myself to keep a cool head. "You've been talking to Lucifer?"

"Well, more like I've been taking orders from him to the Horsemen. But you knew that already, didn't you?" Brady raises an eyebrow. "Hence the reason I'm here."

"Don't be a smart-ass. Tell me where Pestilence is."

"Sweetheart, you don't have the guts to take him on. Go back to your little doll house where you belong." I desperately wish I still had my archangel's blade just so I can stab him.

"Now, now, darling, play nice." Crowley saunters into the room, jerking his head towards the door when I don't move. "Leave, Ariel." I scowl, but storm past him and out of the room, slamming the door behind me. Sam and Dean break off from their argument to look up at me, Sam's eyes wide with regret, and I avoid looking at them.

"Air-" Sam begins and I shake my head.

"It's fine. Drop it." His mouth twists into a grimace, but he nods stiffly.

"How's your mouth?" Dean asks.

"It's fine." There's a bite to my tone that Dean knows not to push, so he holds up his hands in surrender and takes a step back before heading to the bathroom. Sam waits for Dean to close the bathroom door before moving too quickly for me to even register what's happening. He grabs a chair and sticks it under the bathroom doorknob.

"SAM!" Dean roars from the other side as I quickly move to get the chair, but Sam grabs me around my waist. I claw at his arms, trying to free myself, but he pushes me into a closet and locks me inside. It's dark and cramped, and I can feel the walls closing in on me.

"Let me out, Sam!" I scream, but Sam's already gone. "SAM!" When no response comes, not even from Dean, I sink to the floor of the tiny closet and bury my head in my hands as my entire body shudders.

Why is this happening to me?

I would say I'm sorry for the late update, but reality comes first, as do exams. Or more specifically, the hardest Biology exam I have ever taken in my life.

I am literally cackling at how many people wailed at me killing Gabriel, though. Guys, it's canon. You are literally ranting at me for repeating canon. My God, I love you all.

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