Hey Cas,
I'm holdin' up, us Winchesters are hard headed in more ways than one. Sorry to hear your new party member roughed you up. Although, speaking from personal experience, nothing helps ease guilt quite like getting your ass handed to you. Bobby used to call it "Hunter's therapy".
Sam's on the mend, as much as he can be. He ate like four grilled cheese sandwiches this morning, so he's got his appetite back anyway. Kevin's been at the angel tablet ever since Sam relapsed. He was just telling me about something he thinks might help. There's a section that talks about an object, the best Kev can make it out it's called the "Crown of Twelve Stars", but he says it's meant for "cleansing", or like a shield against evil. I don't know if it'll do a damn thing, but between the demon blood and the Hell closing gunk trapped in Sam's cells I can't imagine a good cleanup could make him any worse. You think you could put your angel heads together and figure out what this thing is? I know it's a long shot, but I'm tired of sittin' on my ass and waiting for things to get better.
Let me know, and hey, if the angel's give you a hard time, don't be afraid to hit back. It may not do much, but trust me, It'll make you feel better. I'll see if Kevin can decode anything on angel vessels and temperature.
Later,
Dean
Hello Dean,
The bible is heavily edited, even the version you acquired from Bobby. While this does sound promising, the actual imagery is so shrouded in symbolism that a "Crown of twelve stars" could mean anything. Once, I knew every theological concept. Now… let's just say I'm losing information every day. Human brains don't have the same memories as angels. However, I did inquire with Hadarniel and Ambriel and they know nothing as well, saying that the Crown of Twelve Stars was just a fabrication of John, the writer of Revelations.
I don't know what to believe. But I will keep looking into this, please keep me updated on whatever else Kevin finds.
…
"What are we supposed to do while he writes?"
"I still haven't quite figured it out. When I stare he becomes distempered. The same happens when I try to speak with him."
"I see. Should we talk amongst ourselves?"
"That may be our best course of action at this point."
"I agree."
"…"
"Do you have a topic for discussion in mind?"
"Humans often discuss the weather."
"What for?"
"I couldn't say."
…
Hadarniel and Ambriel are getting along well. I wish I had more to tell you about my mission, but it seems that the angels are either assimilating very well or… I don't know what the alternative is. But it can't be good.
…
"Humans also discuss food. When, where, and what they will be eating is very important to them."
"I have never eaten."
"Me neither."
"Perhaps we should ask Castiel-"
"We can't disturb him."
"Yes. I am forgetting the goal of our mission. Apologies."
"You are forgiven."
…
I had forgotten how fatiguing the company of angels can be. After all, according to Naomi, I have always preferred the company of humans. How I wish I still had those memories.
…
"He seems to have stopped writing. Does that mean anything?"
"I can't be sure, but I think it means that he is longing for his human who is far away from him and is now pondering whether he should tell him how much he misses-"
Cas slammed the journal shut. "ALRIGHT. You have my attention, Ambriel. Hadarniel." He removed the hotel towel full of ice from his bruised eye and looked at the two angels.
Ambriel eyebrows furrowed, confused. "We didn't call for you, Castiel."
Hadarniel smirked, and Castiel knew that he was the culprit in trying to get a rise out of him. Despite Dean's encouragement, Cas hadn't hit Hadarniel back, realizing that the blow was proper punishment for the last time they had met. Castiel, while full of purgatory souls and Leviathan, had not been strong enough to kill Hadarniel, the ever dedicated gatekeeper of heaven, during his siege of heaven. Instead he had knocked him right into a parallel dimension, ensuring Castiel's entrance into heaven where he could commit mass murder.
A shiver ran down Castiel's spine. A punch in the eye and a little teasing was the least he should receive.
He sighed and opened the journal again.
…
However, I am grateful for the company, even if it is of the odd variety. Give Sam and Kevin my regards.
Your friend,
Castiel