Dean looked down at the soul bound to the rack next to him, a young woman with long blonde hair and an expression so innocent that once he would have doubted his purpose or the justification for her being sent to Hell. He knew better now, Alastair had explained it all very carefully. You cannot trust the look of innocence, he'd said. Even the most wicked of sinners looks innocent and horrified when presented with the reality of their eternity in Hell. Dean surveyed the instruments of torture arrayed on the table by the rack. A particularly nasty looking flensing knife caught his eye, a tool that had worked so well on the last soul he'd abused. He gave a slow, lazy smile and turned back to the young woman, who struggled against the hooks and shackles that bound her.
"No…" she whispered. "Please, God. No."
"You know," Dean said in a conversational tone. "You brought this on yourself."
"You don't know that," she sobbed. "You're wrong." Dean sighed, they always denied it at first.
"See, if you didn't deserve it, why are you here?" he asked simply. She shook her head.
"What's your name?" she asked softly. Dean blinked in surprise.
"Dean Winchester," he blurted out, then cursed himself for revealing information about himself. Never answer their questions, Alastair had told him. Not knowing what's going on or why or who's doing this to them adds extra spice.
"Did you deserve this?" the woman asked, her eyes steadily regarding him. Dean took a deep breath and ignored her, testing the blade of the knife against his thumb.
"It's a little blunt," he told her. "Which means it will hurt more." She turned her head away and he shrugged. Conversation was getting boring anyway.
Dean.
Dean looked around, that voice hadn't come from the soul on the rack and it didn't have the metallic slither of Alastair or the gruff grunts of the lesser demons who transported the souls to him and took them away.
Dean, it's Cas. You're dreaming.
Dean blinked. Cas was here?
It's a dream. Come find me. Someplace else, somewhere better.
He turned around and found he was leaning against the Impala, parked by the side of an unknown road. Cas was propped against the fender, watching the stars. Dean inhaled a shaky breath and slumped against the car.
"Hello, Dean." Cas said. Dean tried to speak and choked. "It's all right, Dean. It was just a nightmare. I'm here. You're safe." Dean nodded, not trusting himself not to burst into tears if he tried to reply. Cas laid one hand on his arm and Dean gave him a watery angel watched him, blue eyes sad and concerned.
"How many times has it been now?" Dean forced out and Cas gave a sigh, rubbing his hand up and down Dean's arm in a comforting fashion.
"I'm not sure," he replied.
"Liar," Dean said without heat. Cas' lips quirked into a half smile.
"Four hundred and seventy three."
"Awesome," Dean commented. "I'm turning into a headcase."
"You've been through a lot," Cas said seriously. "If you were anyone else, you'd have been committed long ago."
"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" Dean said, not sure if he wanted to laugh or cry.
"Perhaps," Cas said. "I'm here for you no matter what. I will always be here for you, Dean." He wanted to cry, definitely. Dammit. But this was a dream and who would know? He leaned forward, pulling Cas towards him and let the tears fall into the angel's shoulder.
Dean found Cas in the library, working on the translation of another book he'd bought on Ebay. Dean wondered if he needed to restrict the angel's internet privileges. This was the third book in as many weeks and they had all been quite expensive.
"Hey, Cas," he said and tried to ignore the warm feeling in his chest when the angel looked up and smiled broadly at him.
"Hello, Dean," Cas rumbled.
"So, Sam and I are going to check out a possible case in Tennessee. It's probably nothing, another one of Sam's serial killer cases, but until we get a lead on Amara, I figure it's worth checking out." Cas gazed at him for a moment.
"Do you want me to come along?" he asked finally. Dean blinked.
"Uh, sure. OK. If you want. You've been holed up here for a while, it might be good to get you back in the saddle," the hunter said diffidently. Cas nodded and closed the book in front of him.
"What are you looking for anyway?" Dean asked with a pointed look at the book. Cas looked away, as if embarrassed and Dean frowned.
"It's nothing. A possible way to fight the Darkness, if we find her. But I'm not getting very far," the angel said softly. Dean's frown got deeper, why would that be embarrassing?
"OK," he said. "Sounds good. Except for the not getting anywhere part." Real smooth, Winchester.
"When are we leaving?" Cas was asking, dragging him out of his thoughts.
"Soon, Sam's loading up the car now." Cas stood up and walked purposefully towards the door, and Dean thought he would just sweep straight past him, but when the angel got close he stopped.
"Have you had any lasting side effects from your last case?" Cas demanded suddenly. Dean stared at him.
"No," he replied, puzzled. "I was a bit tired when we got back, but a solid night's sleep sorted me out. Sam's a bit edgy but I think he's just itching to get after Amara too." Cas nodded and stared intently at Dean. The hunter shifted uncomfortably under the angel's scrutiny.
"No desire to go back to Pennsylvania?" Cas asked. Dean rolled his eyes.
"None," he declared. "Why?" The angel stepped back.
"No reason," he began and Dean grabbed his arm.
"Don't lie to me, Cas. One, you suck at it and two, it pisses me off. Why would I want to go back to Pennsylvania?" Cas glared at him.
"The offering you were given," he explained. "When activated, whoever is given the token should feel a strong yearning to be with the person whose blood has been used to activate it. So I assumed the woman who gave this to you activated it with her blood. But if you're not feeling any urge to return to where she is, then perhaps she chose another target. Have you had any unusual feelings, strange desires or curious dreams?" Dean's throat began to close in panic.
"No!" he denied emphatically. "Nothing like that. Maybe she didn't activate it at all."
"Then why give it to you?" Cas objected. "What would be the point?"
"OK, well maybe she screwed it up. I don't know. Why are you so worried?" Dean asked irritably.
"This is powerful magic. Old and unpredictable. These tokens are quite valuable," Cas told him.
"How valuable?" Dean asked. Cas' mouth twisted.
"At a guess, you could probably buy a new car with the proceeds of selling it." Dean gaped at him.
"Wash your mouth out!" he joked. Then his eyes narrowed. "What kind of car?"
Dean tapped happily on the steering wheel as Metallica boomed out of the speakers. Sam stared out of the window and watched the world whizz by. Cas had brought some books with him and was working on his translation, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. Not that Dean was watching him in the rearview mirror. Suddenly Cas slammed the book closed with a muttered oath and Sam jumped.
"Hey, Cas?" he asked. "Are you OK?"
"Yes," the angel declared. "No." He waved a hand vaguely at his books and Sam nodded in sympathy. "I feel like I'm wasting my time."
"What are you looking for anyway?" Sam twisted around in his seat to look at Cas and the angel sighed.
"There's an old story, from long before the first humans were placed on the earth. Before Lucifer's Fall. Not long after defeating the Darkness, Lucifer and Michael were tasked with creating a record of how they defeated Amara, Metatron was supposed to inscribe the information in a tablet. Like the angel and demon tablets. But there are very few references to it. The last definitive account anyone has of it was that the Knights Templar had it. But that order was disbanded in 1312 and nobody knows what happened to the many treasures and relics they had discovered. The Vatican took possession of many, but there are a number which were never found and this tablet was one of them." The angel tapped the cover of one of his books.
"This is an account of a Knight who escaped persecution and made his way through France to England. He told his story to a monk, Thomas, who met him on the road, and Thomas wrote of his encounter in his journal. This Knight, who called himself Jack, told Thomas that he carried a tablet of the most terrible knowledge in creation. Until recently, I had believed the tablet he carried was the demon tablet. Or perhaps the angel tablet, depending on your definition of terrible." Cas gave a self-deprecating grin. "But I began to wonder if perhaps it had been the Darkness tablet instead. So I've been trying to follow a trail that is seven hundred years old, at a time when literacy was rare. And I am not getting very far. Thomas met 'Jack' in the northwest of England. There is a Templar site there at Temple Sowerby, so perhaps that is where he was heading. But he could also have been travelling to Scotland, where there are also a number of Templar sites." Cas frowned. "Thomas doesn't say where he was going, and perhaps 'Jack' did not want to say, since Templars had been declared heretics and their leaders burned to death."
"You think this tablet will help us defeat Amara?" Dean interjected. Cas nodded.
"Yes, that is my hope. So little is known about what happened, neither Michael nor Lucifer would speak of it. I don't know if they were forbidden to discuss it or if it had been so awful they simply didn't want to."
"Lucifer wasn't exactly the poster boy for following orders," Sam pointed out. "But it's hard to imagine what could be so awful that he wouldn't talk about it either."
Dean rapped smartly on the door of a small, rundown house and dug his FBI credentials out of his pocket. The door opened a crack and the mussed brown hair and reddened blue eyes of a young man appeared in the gap.
"Kyle Leonard? Special Agent Anderson, with Special Agents Howe and Wakeman," Dean announced.
"FBI? Uh. You're here about Reed."
"Yeah. Can we come in?" The door closed and Dean swore under his breath. He lifted his hand to hammer on the door again but it suddenly was thrown open.
"Sorry, I had to undo the chain," Kyle explained. He was wearing torn, filthy jeans and a purple t-shirt with a fading logo on the front. He ushered the three of them into a small, untidy living room and slumped down on a sagging brown couch. There was a thick yellow comforter on the floor and a matching pillow slung onto a rickety looking coffee table; it seemed Kyle had been sleeping in here.
"I already told the cops everything I know," Kyle said tiredly. "What else can I say?"
"Why don't you just tell the whole story again, in your own words?" Sam suggested. "We'd prefer to hear it straight from you."
"OK," Kyle said doubtfully. "Reed and I have been friends since third grade. I was hosting a party here to celebrate Meghan's birthday. That's my girlfriend. Was my girlfriend, I don't know where we stand after… Reed came down the day before to help me out. So, he went out to pick up some more ice and I didn't notice when he came back, I was busy. Meghan went up to use the bathroom at about 9:30, and she found him lying in the tub, underwater. Meghan's pre-med and she knows CPR, so she tried to revive him. I called 911. She was able to get him breathing again and the ambulance showed up soon after that. Hugh Nelson was one of Reed's friends from UT, I didn't know him that well but he seemed OK. He took me, Meghan and Reed's roommate, Lon Brock, in his car to the hospital. We waited in the waiting room for a while and then Hugh said he had to leave because he had an early morning lecture to attend. We didn't want to leave Reed so we let him go without us. Lon went outside with him, saying he needed a smoke. We never saw either of them again. Kyle's heart stopped in the ICU and they couldn't-" Kyle broke off with a sob. "We only heard what happened to Lon and Hugh on the news the next day."
"OK," Sam said sympathetically. "So, go back to the party, before Meghan found Reed. You say he went out for ice?"
"Yeah, he said he was going to Scepter Gas on West Magnolia. He definitely got the ice because I saw it in the freezer. I just didn't see him." Kyle's shoulders hunched and he pulled out his phone, pulling up a contact and writing it on the back of an open envelope. "This is Meghan's number, if you want to speak to her." Sam accepted it with a faint smile and noticed out of the corner of his eye that Cas had suddenly whipped around to stare out of the window.
"So did Reed say he was going to take a shower or anything?" Dean asked. Kyle shook his head.
"No. Not before he went out. And anyway, the water in the tub was cold. Who bathes in cold water?" Kyle's face twisted. "Someone did this to him. I'm sure of it. But everyone at the party was a friend. Reed was a good guy, so why would anyone want to hurt him?"
"OK, one more question. Did you notice anything strange at the party?" Dean watched Kyle closely and the kid squirmed.
"Strange?" he asked.
"Odd noises, strange smells, temperature fluctuations. Anything that struck you as odd." Dean explained.
"Uh, I don't think so. Except, the lights kept flickering. That was a bit strange. I mean, the power goes out all the time when we get storms. But it was clear, if a bit cold. Nothing unusual for this time of year." As Kyle said this, Cas suddenly threw open the door and dashed across the street. Sam and Dean stared as he ran up to a man stood opposite the house. They seemed to be involved in a heated discussion.
"Right," Dean said awkwardly. "Well, don't leave town without letting us know. We might have more questions." He turned to leave and Sam went to follow him out the door.
"Kyle, can you give us a list of everyone who was there that night?" he asked. Kyle nodded and scribbled a list of names on the other side of the envelope with Meghan's number.
The man Cas was arguing with was tall, almost as tall as Sam, with a shock of curly reddish-blond hair and delicate features. He was dressed in tailored slacks and a green silk button-down shirt. As he noticed Sam and Dean approaching, the man gave an elegant bow.
"The Winchester brothers," he said. "I've heard so much about you." He glanced over Dean but gave Sam a long, lingering look. His eyes were bright green, unlike any Sam had seen before. "It's seems he wasn't exaggerating, for once."
"You need to leave," Cas said firmly and the stranger gave a broad smile that made Sam feel warm and shivery. This man was very attractive and dammit if he didn't know it. He patted Cas' cheek and Sam felt Dean stiffen beside him. The next moment, he was gone.
"Who the Hell was that?" Dean demanded. "I thought you weren't on speaking terms with Heaven anymore!" The angel looked troubled.
"He's not an angel," Cas stated shortly. When he didn't elaborate further, Dean's mouth tightened.
"Then who was he? And what does he want?"
"He's nobody. Don't worry about him." Cas deflected.
"Oh, so this nobody, who you run out into the street to talk to, who you apparently gossip with, he's nobody to worry about?" Dean growled and grabbed the angel by the arm. Cas shrugged him off with an irritated look.
"I don't gossip with the likes of him," he said contemptuously. Sam raised an eyebrow.
"So who has he heard so much about us from?"
"Someone else," Cas said unhelpfully. Dean narrowed his eyes.
"Why are you being like this?" he asked. "Why won't you tell us who he is, what he wants, who he heard about us from? Will you at least tell us if he's a threat?"
"He's dangerous. His kind don't often interfere with humans but I'd prefer not to take chances," Cas sighed and shoved his hands into his pockets. It made him look very human, Dean thought and tried to ignore the curious sensation in his stomach.
"Fine, then let's gank the son of a bitch!" he demanded. Cas' gaped at him in alarm.
"No! You can't. Just ignore him and he'll get bored and move on to something else." Dean grabbed the angel's arm again and tried unsuccessfully to shove him backwards.
"Why can't we? Why are you protecting him?" he roared, pushing his face up close to Cas'. The angel looked puzzled.
"I'm not protecting him," he said uncertainly, an uncharacteristic quivery note in his voice. "I'm protecting you. I told you, he's dangerous and powerful. When I say you can't kill him, I mean it's not possible. Please. Just leave him alone." Cas' eyes glittered and Dean swallowed at the vulnerable look on his face. Uncomfortable, he let go and stepped back out of the angel's personal space. Sam cleared his throat.
"So, shall we track down Kyle's girlfriend, Meghan?" he asked. Dean nodded.
"Yeah. And the other party guests too. Maybe we should split up, there's almost twenty names on this list." Dean eyed the tiny house skeptically.
"Twenty? Must have been a squeeze. OK, gimme the list. Cas and I'll take these ten," he ripped the list in two and handed one half back to Sam. "You find Meghan, and then start working on the rest of them." Sam thought about objecting, surely a three-way split would be better. Then he was struck by a vision of Cas questioning someone on his own and thought better of it. He pulled out his phone and dialed Meghan's number as Dean and Cas headed back to the car.
Meghan's phone went straight to voicemail, so Sam left a short message and looked at the first name on his list, Dylan Meave. A quick search of the university's website revealed that Dylan was a graduate student in the Biology department. Sam checked his watch, it was a little after 4pm. He pulled up a map of the campus on his phone to find the lab Dylan worked in and then set off walking.
The Hesler building was an old-fashioned looking red brick building with stone lintels and black iron guttering. It took Sam several minutes to locate the correct lab and when he tapped at the door, the young Asian woman who opened it looked at him suspiciously.
"Who are you?" she demanded. "You're not a student, not dressed like that." Sam flashed his FBI credentials and her face cleared.
"Oh, you're here because of Reed. Dylan and I were both there at the party," she told him. "I'm Yi Chin." Sam remembered her name was under Dylan's on his list.
"Is Dylan here? I might as well talk to both of you together," Sam said pleasantly as he looked around.
"He'll be back momentarily," Yi said. "He just went to get some more loading buffer for these samples." She pointed to a rack of tiny tubes, some of which were half-filled with a blue liquid and others contained a smaller volume of clear fluid.
"What are you working on?" Sam asked curiously. She grinned at him.
"We're trying to find genetic mutations in wild strains of tomatoes that are resistant to tobacco mosaic virus." Sam crinkled his forehead.
"Tomatoes get a tobacco disease?" he asked.
"Yes. And peppers, cucumbers, lots of ornamental flowers too. It's a big problem in the farming industry because infected plants have stunted growth and lower yields." The lab door opened and a stocky young man in a lab coat strode in clutching a small tube of blue liquid triumphantly.
"Ha! I liberated some from Evaline!" he declared.
"Don't you mean borrowed?" Yi said sternly with a meaningful tilt of her head towards Sam. Sam pulled out his FBI credentials again and Dylan frowned.
"You're here about Reed?" he asked. Sam nodded.
"I dunno what I can tell you, man. I never even saw him," Dylan said defensively and Yi nudged him. He glanced at her.
"I'm only interested in his death," Sam said carefully. "Any other activities are not of interest to the Bureau."
"OK," Dylan said slowly. "Maybe I did see him. I was outside, um, gettin' some fresh air. He had a big bag of ice. I said hello." He looked furtive and Sam despaired of getting a straight answer out of him. Yi glared at him and then folded her arms.
"Sorry, Agent. Dylan's not being very helpful, is he? Tell him what he said, Dylan." Dylan looked away.
"Did you know Meghan and Reed dated before she hooked up with Kyle?" Dylan asked and Sam shook his head. "He's been trying to come between them every since. I don't know if he wanted her back or just didn't want her to be with Kyle. He was rambling on about the power of thought and how you could get what you want just by wishing it really hard," he whispered. "There was a lot of crap about the occult and I told him I didn't want anything to do with it. But that was Reed, everyone thinks he's a fun guy but he could be a real asshole, especially to Kyle. I never understood why they were still friends."
"On Kyle's birthday last year, he cut the brake lines on his car. Kyle nearly died when he couldn't stop at a red light and narrowly missed getting t-boned by a minivan." Yi added, her mouth pursed angrily. Sam stared at her in shock.
"Did Kyle tell the police?" She shook her head in vexation, strands of hair coming loose from her ponytail.
"No. Kyle said it was just Reed messing around, that he didn't realize how dangerous it was. But come on, he's not a kid! He knew damn well what he was doing."
"Do you think he intended to kill Kyle?" Sam asked her, watching them both closely.
"No!" Dylan exclaimed immediately, but his face was pale.
"Maybe," Yi mused. "Reed and Kyle's friendship is kinda weird." She looked uncomfortable and corrected herself. "Was kinda weird. Uh." She eyed Sam as if assessing him for a moment. "Reed has everything, his family are quite wealthy and he's smart and popular. Kyle's quiet and nerdy and his family have no money. When Meghan and Kyle started dating, Reed went nuts. I mean, really crazy. Even though she dumped his ass six months before she started dating Kyle. It wasn't like she cheated on him or even ditched him for Kyle. But it didn't matter to Reed. He didn't speak to Kyle for weeks and then there was the car incident. I think he managed to shock himself because he made up with Kyle after that. But talk to Meghan, she'll tell you a lot more stories about Reed."
"Yiyi!" Dylan said, tugging urgently at her sleeve. "Do you really think this is relevant? Reed's the one who's dead!" She rolled her eyes at him.
"They need to know what kind of guy Reed really was. That's the only way they catch his killer." Yi told him.
"You watch too much TV," Dylan said, sullenly. Sam held out his hand.
"No, she's right. Thank you both for talking to me." Dylan gave him a half-hearted shake and then picked up the pipette on the bench with a dismissive look. Yi patted him on the shoulder and then shook Sam's hand decisively.
"I want to join the FBI after I graduate," she said suddenly. Sam smiled at her.
"I hope you do," he said.