Author's/Underhill's Note: First off, happy Thanksgiving to any and all who celebrate it! Second of all: OH MY GOD EXTREMELY LATE UPDATE. They upped our hours at work instead of hiring more people for the holidays, so I've been going crazy. I tried writing at work, but everyone was like 'omg what are you writing' and I was about to slap someone. I hope that the chapter being a bit longer makes up at least a little for the long wait. So: disclaimers disclaimers, I own nothing Supernatural. Also: I LOOOOVE YOU REVIEWERS! You make this all worthwhile. Imaginary pie of your choosing for all! I hope this chapter doesn't have too many inconsistencies (I proofread it for errors and then was like wait what is happening) and if you notice any errors please let me know! So, thank you for reading, and please review!
Chapter 27
March 25 12:01 AM, Sioux Falls, South Dakota
Cas dreams.
He's near frantic - - Dean and Sam have been missing for days and he cannot find them. He has searched everywhere, every corner of the earth, but no Winchesters, and he feels real fear for the first time. What if he never finds them? What if he never sees Dean - -
What if they're not ON earth?
The dream jumps forward. He bursts through the door to see the brothers, feet locked in strange devices, and a large crowd watching. And when he sees Dean that all encompassing fear melts away, and other feelings can flit in. Annoyance and confusion chief among them.
"Cas?"
"Is this another trick?"
"It's me." He looks between them. "Uh, what are you doing here?"
"Us? What are you doing here?"
Cas resists the urge to growl, because, honestly, Winchesters. "Looking for you. You've been missing for days."
Sam, looking to be in extreme pain, demands, "So get us the hell out of here, then!"
Cas walks up to do just that, reaches towards their foreheads. "Let's go." But it's only Cas who goes. He's thrown so far so fast his head is spinning and it takes him a while to orient himself. When he does, he realizes: the thing that's holding Dean and Sam? That's no Trickster.
Tricksters are demigods. Whatever their wrapped up in is much bigger than that. But he needs to find them, he can think about the hows and whys of the situation later. He needs to get out of… whatever this place is.
The memory skips ahead.
It's a motel room, much more brightly colored than their regulars. Cas has clawed tooth and nail to get here because somehow they've (moved) again.
When he swings open the door it is to disorientating applause. What is this?
"You okay?" Dean asks and he turns. The question stirs something in Castiel but he ignores it.
"I don't have much time."
"What happened?"
Castiel says, "I got out."
"From where?"
Castiel ignores that question because he really does not want to address it now, if ever. It has an odd sense of humor, this thing, this creature that has them trapped here - -
"Listen to me. Something is not right. This thing is much more powerful than it should be."
"What thing, the Trickster?"
"If it is a Trickster." And it isn't.
"What do you mean?" Sam asks.
Cas takes a breath to answer and is flung backwards into a wall. His mouth seals shut just as he hears the door open once more.
"Hello!"
Oh. Oh no.
"Thank you. Thank you, ladies."
Castiel can't believe this. He's been gone for centuries, millennia.
"Hi, Castiel!"
But that's his voice, and that's his face, and that's the dismissive gesture of an older brother shooing away a younger one. He's whooshed away again but this time to no location. Instead, he's falling in the static, down down down - -
He reaches out and grasps onto nothing.
His eyes snap open. Where…
The pain in his head; the angels ambushing them; killing three of his brothers; and Balthazar catching him as he falls when everything goes black - - it all comes back to him in a flash.
He groans and wipes a hand across his face.
Then he remembers the dream. It is the first dream he remembers having, so he thinks it is his first. He wakes up terrified, because…
"Angels don't dream," he whispers.
"Cas?" It's Sam. Cas tries getting up but is tangled in his trench coat and ends up in a pile on the floor.
"This… is uncomfortable."
He sees Sam shake his head. "I bet. You okay?" Cas can tell he means more than his small tumble off the couch. He briefly curses Balthazar; he does not wish for Sam and Bobby to worry.
"I am quite fine," he says, pushing himself up on his elbows. He gets to his feet and Sam catches him when he stumbles.
"Sure you are," Sam says.
"Sarcasm is not appreciated, Sam."
Sam does a double take. "You actually picked up on that? You are learning."
Cas wishes he wasn't sometimes. It was so much easier when he didn't have to worry about voice inflections and tones.
"What happened?" he asks, voice scratchy; he wonders how long he's been out. Sam drops him back onto the couch and looks awkwardly at the window seat for a moment. It's enough for Cas to follow his eyes…
"Is that John Winchester?" he asks because clearly he's hallucinating. This is it, he's Fallen, and he's gone mad from the transition. But… it makes a warped kind of sense, he thinks. Dean is inaccessible, Adam is missing so they need someone of the Winchester line, and John is a reasonable second replacement.
"Uh, yeah. Sort of."
"Sort of?"
"Well, he's not my dad, he's…uh."
Cas focuses on the passed out man. It takes him longer than he would like to find what he's looking for, but when he does, "This is John Winchester of 1978." He looks at Sam. "This is not good."
Sam laughs, but it's not a happy sound. "Yeah, no kidding. He wants to kill me."
"Where is Bobby? Where is Balthazar?" A discussion needs to be had.
"Right here, boy," Bobby says, wheeling into the room. He hands Cas a glass of water which he gratefully accepts.
"Thank you."
"Don't mention it. Now, your angel brother skipped out shortly after he put Winchester Senior over there out. He's got that heavenly role call or somethin.'"
Cas nods. That Balthazar did not wait for his awakening is good. He would not wish for his brother to suffer on his behalf. More selfishly, he does not want to lose the one in they have to Heaven; his brother will be a valuable source of information to help them keep one step ahead of Heaven's plans.
"Good." He looks back at John, who is part of a situation that is the exact OPPOSITE of good. "They will be looking for him."
"Yep."
"Yeah."
"Perhaps we'd best wake him. We might be able to reason with him," Cas suggests but with no conviction in his voice.
"Cas, he thinks I killed my mom."
Cas blinks. "He has none of his later memories then." He'd been hoping against hope for the contrary.
Sam sighs. "So you know about that too. The whole 'dire consequences' thing."
Cas instantly knows what he is alluding to. "Yes." Thoughtfully, he adds, "It would make sense to raise a young John. He has no attachment to you. It will make it easier."
"Easier to what?" Bobby asks.
"Accept Michael as a vessel, of course, and to fight Sam at the appointed place."
"Great," Sam mutters darkly. "Just great. Can we hide him? Can they find him here?"
"We got the wards," Bobby says.
Cas shakes his head. "Against the might of Heaven, we stand no chance. They might not be able to divine our location, but they will find it in time. They have many eyes."
"Ah, yeah, the doomsday religious fringe. Damn. Can we hide him?"
"The other angel dressed up his ribs like he did yours before he went," Bobby adds. "That might help."
"He cannot stay here," Castiel insists. "He is a danger to us all. They will find us and then they will know our location. It is not safe for any of us here so long as he remains."
"So what do you suggest?!" Sam asks, turning around angrily. An angry shudder runs through him before he marches into the kitchen. Bobby wheels after him and grabs a bottle of scotch from a bottom cupboard. Castiel sighs and follows; it is probably best if they do not awaken the eldest (though physically youngest now) Winchester while they discuss his fate. Cas grabs a few glasses and sets them in front of each of them as Bobby divvies the liquor out. It will be a long night.
John's sitting in their regular booth at their regular diner. It's before they're married, and he remembers this place fondly. They stopped coming after Mary's dad died - - they didn't have to sneak around anymore - - but he misses it sometimes. He glances at his watch and frowns. She's late.
"She's not coming you know." A man in a neat suit and a balding head has appeared just across from him in Mary's regular seat, a man he thinks he knows. "This is the diner you used to come to every Friday," the man notes, though he's not really a man at all, is he? "Date night. You'd talk about your future, your plans. You realized you wanted to marry her sitting across from her at this diner. She's not coming," he repeats. "Not yet." John's heart clenches. "But she will. Soon."
"You're Zachariah, right?"
"I am," he confirms. "You weren't where you were supposed to be, kid."
The angel's tone makes him nervous. John can't afford to screw this up. "Yeah, I know."
"Can't quite zero in on you, either. So let me take a wild guess: you're with Sam." His face twists. "And that poor excuse for an angel."
John can't look at him. "Yeah."
"Didn't we tell you about them?"
John nods.
"So you know you can't trust them, right? Sam Campbell killed your wife. He led Anna right to your home. He didn't even try to save Mary, just himself."
John closes his eyes. The details of that night are hazy, but he remembers pain, and then the heat of a star when a voice tells him he can save his wife, just let him in. The next thing he remembers is Heaven, except it's empty, and there's just a voice emotionlessly telling him he failed, he was too late. His wife is dead. Sam killed her.
"Now, you want to see your wife again or not?"
John wakes up to the sounds of an argument in the next room. He knows what he has to do. He is silent as he gets up, silent as he slips out the door, silent as he makes his way through the junkyard and out the gate. It is a long way to the next town, but when he gets there it will all get easier. All he needs to find is a street preacher, Zachariah told him. Should be easy.
March 25, 8PM, Michigan
Claire's mom stumbles in a day later, looking sleep deprived and half dead. She doesn't even look at Claire as she stumbles into the back room and collapses on the bed. When Claire stands awkwardly at the door, unsure what to do, her mom tells her to close it.
Claire pretends that she can't hear her mother cry through the wall.
It's in the afternoon that Amelia wanders out and into the kitchen. Claire dodges into the other room when she sees her mom move for the phone. She peers out from behind the almost all the way closed door, because this she wants to hear.
She imagines the phone ringing, once, twice, three times. "Hello? Marta?" Quiet as her mother listens. Then, quiet: "Marta, I don't know what to do." Her mother sounds small, scared, not at all like a mom should. Claire, of course, is used to this, so it isn't a surprise. What is a surprise is that her mother's still in contact with some of her old friends. When they left her mother and her cut all ties - - the fact that Amelia is going against her own rules lets Claire know exactly how bad things must be. Her mom is desperate and doesn't want Claire to know. (Fat chance of that), Claire thinks with a roll of the eyes. Amelia Novak doesn't have a deceitful bone in her body.
Claire leans a little closer. Her mom continues. "I keep… I keep having these blackouts. Sometimes for hours, but this time it was days."
Blackouts. Shit. She needs to take her mom's booze, keep a better eye on her. Maybe she can slash the tires on the car…
"No. I… I'm not taking anything, Marta! I've even stopped drinking just to make sure it's not that. I'm just here on the couch and then suddenly two towns over and… Marta, no, I can't come back. I… I know you don't understand but - - "
Claire's stopped listening. If what her mom's saying is true, and it's not the alcohol that's causing her to blackout, then something is going on. Is it angels or demons? It has to be something, because Claire doesn't believe in coincidences (or miracles) anymore.
Claire backs away from the door and grabs her bag. She's got some researching to do.
First the car, though. You know, just in case.
March 25, 8:30 PM, New York, New York
Dean and Bela are sitting across from each other again across their desks. Dean's hand is stretched across the divide and Bela flicks it absently. He's doing the paperwork like normal while she goes over their travel itinerary. She mutters lowly to herself. "Nevada flight, 8 AM or New Hampshire 5 PM. Dean!" She looks up and he arches his eyebrows at her. "Would you rather go to Nevada - - "
"What's there?"
"Moccasins of the Changing Woman. Or would you rather go to New Hampshire - - "
"There?"
"Vampire clan. They want us to find them so realty for relocation."
Dean grins. "Oh, you know which one I want to choose."
Bela wrinkles her nose. "You're not even going to ask about the payouts?"
"I wasn't, but since you obviously - - "
" - - five hundred thousand for the slippers and ten grand for the relocation."
"You just like talking about money, don't you?"
"I do," she nods, "I really, really do."
"What if we leave early, drive to New Hampshire and then catch a flight…"
The phone rings and Bela snatches it up. Dean shakes his head with a smile and goes back to his paperwork. Bela likes this job too much sometimes. He can't talk though, he realizes, because he's sitting here enjoying the shit out of balancing their accounts.
"Lizzy!" she cries. "Wait, what? You changed it again? Which identity is this, the sixth? No no, I'm not judging. Wasn't I the one who told you first that Liselle was a wonderful name?" There's a pause as Bela listens. "Yes, yes, Charlene is a perfectly lovely name too." Bela rolls her eyes and Dean manages not to laugh. "I'm sure your new lady friend is splendid, but I'm... Wait. What?" A long, long moment stretches before Bela speaks again. "Darling, what are you talking about?"
Dean is about to ask a question but she raises a hand to cut him off.
"Where are you?" Pause. "You did not." Pause. "On god's earth, WHY?" Pause. "You did? He's alive?" Pause. "Comatose, right." Pause. "Well have you checked his wallet? Of course you haven't." She's looking irate now, a unique angry he only sees on special occasions when she is so beyond exasperated she's almost speechless. He's seen her wear it when speaking to small children, who she does not deal well with. "Why don't you check it now, then." Pause. Bela blanches and puts the phone down, puts it on speaker, and looks at Dean meaningfully. "Can you repeat that once more, Liz - - Charlene?"
Charlie's never really bought into the supernatural. What Bela does for a living, well, that's Bela's business. Charlie has always figured it's crystal balls and tarot cards and an uncanny ability to read people. She never thought it could be REAL. She still doesn't, because why would she? The world isn't magic; she might like fairy tales but she doesn't believe in them. Bela's a good customer and kind of a friend but she's a little crazy Charlie thinks.
Granted, it's hard to argue with the giant tree that grew in less than twenty-four hours. That's actually what caused her to get a flight out to Greece in the end: curiosity. She sent a friend who owed her a favor to check out the situation, but no dice. A tree, but no 'vessel,' no 'glowing vials,' no nothing.
But the tree… And Charlie was between official jobs at the time (she alternated between freelance jobs for well off clients and desk jobs for regular pay) so why not take a vacation? See what Bela did exactly. What she found out was two fold: her guy that she sent really sucked at his job, and also, despite the fact that she still thinks Bela's a little crazy, her job is oddly exciting. Investigating, bribing, lying… It's a skill set she's never had to use before, and while it makes her nervous it's also exhilarating.
The sum of all her efforts has landed her here in a third-rate hospital off the coast of Greece, where a man seemingly dropped from the sky a few months ago in a flash of white light. He's been in this hospital ever since - - never moving, never talking, never anything. He's brain dead. Still, this has to be the guy Bela's looking for. The timeframe, the flash, it all matches up, so she pulls out her phone and makes the phone call.
"Lizzy!" is the immediate answer.
"Charlene," Charlie corrects. It's a new name and she's not sure how she feels about it, but after how her last job ended it was necessary to change it fast.
"Wait, what? You changed it again?" Bela sounds amused. "Which identity is this, the sixth?"
"Sure, judge away Bela Lugosi."
"No, no, I'm not judging. Wasn't I the one who told you first that Liselle was a wonderful name?"
"Maybe… How about Charlene, though?" she asks, knowing she's blatantly fishing for compliments. "It's okay too, right?"
"Yes, yes, Charlene is a perfectly lovely name too."
Time to bite the bullet. "So, uh, I think I found someone you'd be interested in meeting."
"I'm sure your new lady friend is splendid, but I'm - - "
Charlie shakes her head even though Bela can't see it. "She's a he, and he's not a 'quote unquote' lady friend. He's more of a… vegetable friend."
There's a long pause before, "Darling, what are you talking about?"
"Well I had some vacation time coming up at work, so…"
"Where are you?" Bela's voice has a suspicious edge to it.
"Greece. I wanted to check out the tree for myself."
"You did not." The other woman sounds like she's trying to convince herself and failing.
"I kiiiind of did," Charlie says a little bashfully. Bela can be a little like a mother hen sometimes, with all the guilt included.
"On god's earth, WHY?"
"Hey, you should be thanking me. The guy I got out here, he missed something that I didn't. I found your person!"
"You did? He's alive?"
"Er, sort of. He's not conscious. He's kind of…"
"Comatose, right."
"Anyway, they let me in. That bribe was expensive by the way, so you're paying me back." Charlie frowns down at the guy. "No idea what his name is, though."
"Well have you checked his wallet?"
"Uh."
"Of course you haven't," the exasperated voice comes through.
"Excuse me if I was a little thrown by the GIANT freaking tree and the mysterious coma dude here!"
"Why don't you check it now, then."
Charlie asks the attending nurse for his belongings and thirty seconds later she's dumping a plastic bag of the man's personal effects onto his prone body. She sorts through the mess and comes up with a wallet. She flips it open. "Okay, let's see. His I.D. says… ugh, sorry, there's like a million wrappers in his stuff… Okay, it says: _."
There's a shuffling and a small click before she hears Bela ask her to repeat the name one more time.
She barely finishes before she hears a loud swear, a thunk, and Bela saying, "Ah, hold on a moment, dear. I'll have to call you back." Click. Dial tone.
"What's wrong with them?" Charlie asks, looking down at the comatose man. "Did you steal money from them or something? Bad idea if you took it from Bela. I don't know about the new guy. But whatever."
She holds his I.D. up to the light. "Gabriel Lahki." She shakes her head. "Weird name."
It takes Bela a while to calm Dean down, because good god is he ever pissed.
"That bastard, that son of a fucking - - that goddamn! - - ARGH!" He kicks the waste bin and it makes a hollow thunk as it hits the wall.
"Ah, hold on a moment, Lizzy. I'll have to call you back." She hangs up on Liselle (Charlene, whatever) and grabs Dean's elbow.
"Dean, darling, calm down." He looks down at her, crazy-eyed, and she gets why. Dean's told her all about the archangel - - Dean's told her all about everything, and her the same to him.
"Calm down? CALM DOWN?" He's working himself up to hysteria, so Bela gently guides him to a chair with a soft hand to the small of his back.
"Let me make you a cup of tea, dear. You'll feel much better." She pushes him down into the chair and he starts muttering.
"Don't want any damn tea," he grumbles, crossing his arms and sticking out his lower lip like a toddler.
"What was that?" Bela asks sharply.
"…Are there cookies, too?"
Bela smiles, because life, for better or worse, has just gotten more interesting.