Demon Seals
Chapter Nine: The Truth
I was scrolling through my inbox the other day and was surprised to find an old conversation from 4 1/2 years ago where I told someone the entire plot of this story as it had been conceived in my mind at that time. I thought I had forgotten most of my original plan and that I was starting from scratch outside of the broad strokes when I sat down in April to finally get this story going, but I realized that I'm actually still following that 4-year-old plan with only a few small details changed. It was actually a confidence-booster to see that!
We're going to be wrapping up 4.02 with a little bit of conversation taken from 4.01. Also, Sam and Ruby get their quest to find the Trickster underway. Read, review, and enjoy!
It was a little after four in the morning when Dean startled awake on the couch. Everyone had collapsed into sleep only a handful of hours ago, but Dean felt a rush of adrenaline that had him fully awake in seconds. Why was he up?
"Dean."
Whipping his head around, Dean released a rush of a sigh when he realized the speaker was just the angel Castiel. He stood in the kitchen, staring at Dean with that strange not-blank, yet inscrutable expression.
Dean rose and approached the angel.
"I have released your friends Ellen and Joanna from Sam's order to not search for him," he informed Dean.
"Thanks," Dean said. "That the only reason you're here?"
There was a moment of awkward silence.
"Excellent job with the Witnesses," Castiel finally said.
Dean raised his eyebrows. "You were hip to all of this?" he asked.
Castiel blinked, clearly a little confused by Dean's wording. "I was uh, made aware," he finally said.
"Well," Dean said, "thanks a lot for the angelic assistance. Two of my friends almost got their hearts ripped out!"
"But they didn't."
Seriously? "I thought angels were supposed to be guardians. Fluffy wings, halos — you know, Michael Landon. Not dicks."
Castiel's eyes flashed. "Read the Bible," he snapped. "Angels are warriors of God. I'm a soldier."
"Yeah?" Dean retorted. "Then, why didn't you fight?"
"I'm not here to perch on your shoulder or answer your every prayer," was Castiel's answer. "We had larger concerns."
"Yeah?" Dean said. "Like what? There were people, good people getting torn to shreds down here! I don't even know if my brother was one of those people or not! I can't find him, you can't find him, so what good are you, soldier? Where's God in all this crap?"
Castiel's face turned to stone in and instant, and lightning flashed outside, following by booming thunder that shook the house.
That's when Dean saw it.
Wings.
Lightning flashed again, and Dean found he could see the outline of dark, shadowed wings. Wings that lined up perfectly with Castiel's vessel.
"I am an angel of the Lord," Castiel rumbled. "God is real. He has work for you."
Dean swallowed convulsively.
"Why are you here?" he asked as the lightning stopped and the sight of Castiel's wings faded into mere memory.
"There are… big things afoot," Castiel replied.
"The Apocalypse," Dean guessed.
"Yes." Castiel shifted slightly. "The rising of the witnesses is one of the 66 Seals."
"… Azazel needs someone called Lilith for these Seals…"
Sam's words crossed his mind from their meeting with the priest who had been possessed by Azazel over 30 years ago. That man had been present at the beginning of the journey that led to Sam being fed demon's blood as a baby.
"It was Lilith who did it," he said, turning his wide-eyed gaze to the angel before him. "She cast the spell that rose the witnesses."
"That is correct," Castiel answered. "I am afraid that twenty other Hunters are dead."
"She picked victims that the Hunters couldn't save so that they would barrel right after us," Dean said.
"Lilith has a certain sense of humor."
"But you don't know if Sam is among the dead."
Castiel shook his head after a brief pause. "I do not believe that he is among those whose lives were lost."
Dean pressed his lips together. "Tell me something, Castiel," he said, "why were you guys watching Sam?"
"Because he is the last of his generation with demon's blood in his veins who is alive."
Dean grit his teeth together for a moment. "Did you ever do more than just watch him?"
Castiel's silence was answer enough. "Why?" Dean asked. "We killed Azazel. Why would Lilith choose now to follow whatever his master plan was? Why would she even want to follow that plan? She wants Sam dead!"
"I'm afraid that we do not know what Azazel's original plans were for your brother," Castiel finally said, "but when one of my fellow soldiers observed that Lilith was unable to kill Sam, it raised many questions and gave us cause for concern."
"Wait wait wait," Dean cut in. "Lilith can't kill Sam? When did she try to kill him?"
"When you were taken by the Hellhound."
Did Bobby know about this? Dean ran his hands through his hair, trying to process it all as he turned away. "Did you talk to Sam before he started the blood thing again?"
"No," Castiel answered. "We were not allowed to speak to him until after he made the choice to break his promise to you."
Dean clenched his jaw. "Is my brother in hiding because of you?"
"Dean —"
"Tell me the truth," Dean snarled, rounding back to stare down the angel.
"… Yes."
Dean clenched his fists, anger swelling until it crested and his fist flew, slamming into the angel's face.
That turned out to be a really bad idea.
Dean gasped and stumbled away, hand throbbing so badly he feared it might actually be broken.
"You did excellent work with the Seal," Castiel spoke quietly, completely unaffected by Dean's punch, "but the Seal was still broken. You may think of them as locks on a door, and when the last one falls, Lucifer himself will walk free."
"Casey said she believes that Lucifer is the ruler of Hell," Jo tells Dean mere days after her run-in with the demon who believed Sam was supposed to lead Hell, "even though no one's ever seen him, kinda like how so many people believe in God, y'know?"
"This is insane," Dean groaned as he nursed his hand, carefully stretching it. Not broken. Good. "You angels have been hiding out in Heaven with your precious do-gooder souls, not helping anyone or anything until the ultimate threat comes along? Well, bang-up job so far with the witnesses!"
"We tried," Castiel almost snarled, "and there are other battles, other Seals. Some we'll win, some we'll lose. This one we lost. Our numbers are not unlimited." He stepped closer to Dean, gaze intense. "Six of my brothers died in the field this week. You think the armies of Heaven should just follow you around?" He shook his head and moved closer. Dean stepped back despite himself. "There's a bigger picture here. You should show me some respect. I dragged you out of Hell." He stared hard at Dean, as though to make sure the words sunk in before he flung the final shot: "I can throw you back in."
Castiel vanished, and Dean stumbled to the couch, sinking onto it as he tried to catch his breath and figure out when he had become so breathless. When he could breathe again, he laid back down in hopes of returning to sleep.
As he finally began to drift off, his mind returned to the image of those massive wings in the flashes of lightning, and he realized something:
Castiel's wings were injured.
"I am the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition."
But apparently, it had not been without personal cost to the angel.
Dean's dreams for the remainder of that night were troubling and shadowed with images of wings having their feathers torn out or bent as they drew closer to him.
"Do you think Sam knows about the Seals?" Ellen asked when morning came and Dean had filled them all in on his moonlit meeting with Castiel. She completely glossed over the idea that Sam could be dead, and Dean was grateful for it.
He considered Ellen's question. "There's a good chance he does," he finally answered. "Ruby was always really good at scrounging up information that checked out despite being an outcast among demons."
"Then Sam's probably going to be doing more than exorcising demons with his mind," Ellen said, sitting up straighter. "He would try to stop as many Seals as he could, wouldn't he?"
"Yeah," Dean said. "He would, without a doubt."
"So we track as many of these Seals as possible," Ellen said. "Four sets of eyes should be able to find him."
"It's a good idea," Dean admitted. "Just…" He swallowed and scrubbed at his face. "If you do find him, don't try to approach him. There's no telling what state of mind he's in with Ruby by his side 24/7."
Jo sighed, a look of saddening understanding on her young face. "You'd rather we call you?"
"Yeah," Dean said, nodding and sitting down at the kitchen table, trying not to notice the messy state the room was still in from the witnesses the previous night. "He's completely dropped off the grid, so we have to assume he's likely to be a flight risk by now. Hell, I might only get one shot at bringing him back."
"Makes sense," Ellen said, though she looked saddened by Dean's words. Dean wasn't happy with what he'd just said, but he knew Sam better than anyone, so he knew it was the truth.
Sometimes the truth really sucked.
The first town Sam and Ruby checked out in their quest to find the Trickster was Harrison, Tennessee. About five people had been subjected to humiliation and even death, but the last incident had been about four days ago. "I don't think he's here anymore," Sam told Ruby, and off they went to the next place.
Their next target was Jonesboro, Louisiana. This placed looked more promising as the last attack had occurred less than 12 hours before they got there, and there had only been three victims thus far. That meant they had a chance of finding Loki, this time.
"You won't believe me," the most recent victim said, twisting her fingers nervously. "No one does."
Sam leaned forward to catch Heather's eyes and gave her a reassuring smile. "I promise I will," he told her. "My specialty happens to be the cases that no one else will believe are really happening."
Heather swallowed hard and nodded. "Okay," she said quietly. "Well, I'm… I'm kind of a bully." The words came out on a despondent exhale. "I would've denied it before now, but the truth is that I'm part of the popular hierarchy at my high school, and there are rules, ones no one talks about, that you have to follow if you wanna stay on top." Heather shrugged. "I wanted to stay on top."
Sam nodded silently. He had never experienced the pressures and benefits of being in the popular crowd thanks to John moving him around so much growing up, but he had been on the receiving end of the so-called rules more than enough.
"There's this girl that everyone picks on," Heather continued. "Geeky, keeps to herself, never wears makeup, rumor had it she was a lesbian — just, she didn't fit in at all. And we were assigned to do a project together, so I thought I'd play a long game and see if the rumors were true. It…" She trailed off, looking uncomfortable. "It worked. A little too well. And I…" Heather turned her attention to her hands. "She tried to commit suicide by drinking bleach. And now, everything tastes like bleach to me. Doesn't matter if someone else drinks it or eats it first. It's horrible! I can't get the taste out and the girl's on suicide watch and I'm here in this —"
Sam said nothing as Heather leaned back on her bed. "Psych ward," she finally finished. "No one can explain what's happening, so they think I'm crazy."
With a sigh, Sam nodded. "You're not crazy," he said. "You're being punished."
Heather lifted her gaze. "Punished? By what? God?"
"No," Sam said quietly, "by something else. When this first started happening, did you see an excess of candy bar wrappers nearby?"
Sam carefully used his powers to get the girl to just answer the questions at this point. When he left, he found he had a pretty good idea of where to try looking for Loki. All the victims were high school students, and as it so happened, the school had recently hired a new security officer.
"I feel ridiculous," Ruby hissed as they marched up the front steps of the school. "How do you wear these cheap 3-pieces so often and not go insane?"
It was quite the change for the demon. She had traded in her leather jacket and boots for conservative heels and a button-up blouse. "What," Sam said, "you don't think you look…?"
He trailed off, taking in Ruby's plain outfit and disgruntled expression. Out of nowhere, a snort and amused chuckle escaped. "Okay," he finally managed, "maybe you look a little —"
"Frumpy?" Ruby cut him off. "Bland? Boring? Not me? I look like Corporate America, or some loser without a sense of fashion who thinks her job is to serve the man and look as lame as possible while doing it!"
As Ruby continued to rant, a full-fledged laugh erupted from Sam at this, and he gave into it. Fully. Utterly. Completely.
The demon stopped talking and turned to face him. "Sam?" she questioned, smiling, yet perplexed.
It took several seconds, but Sam managed to calm down enough to say, "They're just clothes, Ruby."
Ruby sighed. "Ugly clothes," she corrected. Sam nodded, coughed a couple of times, and finally soothed his laughter away into an undercurrent of amusement.
When was the last time Dean had made Sam laugh like that?
Dean is in Hell. What gives you the right to laugh?
The amusement he still felt burst into a fountain of guilt. "Yeah, sorry," Sam said. "Let's go."
Unfortunately, the security officer wasn't the Trickster. Two days and no further incidents later, Sam had to admit defeat for this particular town. "Next time," Ruby promised him.
But the next lead was a dead-end. The one after that was just humans being cruel to each other, and the one after that panned out, as well.
Two months after Dean went to Hell, Sam was beginning to think his leads were all dried out. It was maddening. Would he ever find the demi-god?