Lawrence, Kansas- One Year After Attack on Manhattan
One year ago today was the day everything changed. The attack on Manhattan destroyed millions of lives and left the city in ruins. The humans were calling it a freak earthquake that wiped out the inhabitants. It was lucky for them the ground shook that day. But since when are earthquakes violent enough to topple skyscrapers? Since when was a city wiped out of all it's inhabitants? If the humans were blunt enough to think it was an earthquake...why not something even more realistic like a volcanic eruption? At least even this would be more realistic then the truth.
That the devil rose from the ground riding on rock made in Hell and absorbed the souls of everyone in the city and become all powerful.
But he was bested by his "son", Dean.
Castiel could barely think of the name. Dean was gone now. Dead. He had been for a long time. Every year that passed on Earth, another hundred passed in Hell. He had buried the body where Dean's parents graves were in a cemetery in Lawrence, Kansas. He doubted even Dean knew where he had come from. But it was here where it all started...at least for Dean. Dean Winchester. The surname given by his parents...John and Mary.
And now he was dead. He deserved a lot better.
Castiel didn't honor part of what would be Dean's last wish if he ever got to say it. Keep Sam safe. Let him forget all this. Let him forget he knew any of us. Well, he was honoring the first part. Not a day had gone by that he didn't visit Sam, see how he was situated in his new family. He never knew Castiel was there of course. He couldn't find it in him to erase Sam's mind of everything that transpired.
He loved Dean. He loved him so much that even now, one year later, he still made prayers every night hoping to see him. Taking away his memory would be a cruel fate indeed. Since Castiel was always nearby, he picked up on these prayers. His foster family was decent. It was a big favor to sway their minds into taking a then ten year old Sam with a colorful memory. Even if Sam didn't voice his experiences, his eyes told the entire story. Castiel may have had a hand in changing their minds. They both had steady incomes and were pretty adamant believers in the Christian faith. They, like the rest of the world believed that an earthquake shook up Manhattan and everybody involved in it simply moved out of state.
Quite a fast evacuation for an earthquake. But he wasn't going to argue. Whatever delusions the humans wanted to live in, he was fine with. As long as the truth wasn't out.
Heaven was in its own disarray and Balthazar had taken over as acting General issuing out tasks to wipe out demons while on border patrol. Balthazar knew better than to keep Castiel too busy. The angel had left Castiel alone for the most part. Aside from paying his respect to Dean and keeping an eye out for Sam...He was here for another reason.
There was someone here. He was here almost every night...but the past few weeks, another was frequenting this graveyard. Not unheard of that there were looters or people with a fascination for the dead. But Dean's grave top was not empty. Flowers of various kind were strewn everywhere. This person was coming to this grave alone in particular...He knew Dean. Somehow.
And yet he or she was choosing times when Castiel was not around. Not tonight. He had enough, and lucky for him, the remnants of the legion weren't in immediate trouble that required his aid. He would find out who this stranger was...and what business they had here.
When night came, he took refuge in a nearby tree. The high branches provided ample cover and he knelt on a particularly thick one watching and waiting. From here, he was about a hundred feet from Dean's gravesite and he had a very clear view of it.
As he expected, the stranger was there. Right at the stroke of midnight. Time meant nothing to an angel like Castiel, so to him, it felt like no time at all when this being appeared. It was a strong build. A male. He was dressed head to toe in black with a hood covering his head and a black shawl covering half of his face. Even with enhanced eyesight, Castiel had trouble discerning what features of this stranger he could from here.
Another pile of roses added to Dean's grave. Who was this guy? Castiel drew out a sword as silently as he could from a sheath underneath his coat. Dean had once taught him what kind of clothes to wear to blend into human society, but he would never be above carrying his weapon. Not while the world was in this state. The tan overcoat and suit provided ample cover. The stranger was turning to leave now and Castiel jumped down from the tree.
In the same second, he held up his sword towards the stranger. A flash of lightning issued from the end of his sword to the figure but it was too minuscule a spell to be considered an attack. The lightning hit the ground and ignited a perfect circle of golden flames around him. Inside the circle, a symbol seemed to activate in call to the fire. A five point star with various symbols within indicating all seven deadly sins.
Trapped, the stranger was immobile inside a circle. Castiel wasn't sure what he was. But the pentagram would hold a demon and the fire would hold an angel.
As Castiel drew closer, the unmistakable sound of a chuckle escaped his prey.
"What are you doing here?" Castiel circled him.
"Do you always greet people this way?" The man asked. His voice was rich with age, though from what Castiel could draw from his dark eyes was youth. A demon. Imperial-Class at least.
"No, only trespassers," Castiel replied. "I will ask again. What are you doing here?"
The man took a glance at the flames. "Do you usually defile graveyards with traps for the visitors? Is it a hobby of yours?"
"One more time. What are you doing here?"
"Same as you, Celestial. Paying my respects to the dead. Is that so wrong?" He followed Castiel with his eyes, but when the angel went behind him, he faced forward, hands up. "More specifically, paying my respects to my king."
"It's been one year and not one demon, not even Imperial has come here to 'pay respects' ," Castiel air quoted. "And now you come out of the blue to pay respects? As far as I'm aware, there's a perfectly good monument to the king in your realm."
"Imperial Class demons are self-serving wretches who would sooner impale themselves than pay respects to a dead relic," The stranger said. His hands...He wasn't surrendering at all. The glowing pentagram, the trap begin to crack in the earth until it was just a jaded bunch of red. No demon, not even Imperial had the power to do that. "Luckily, I'm not one of them. Regarding the monument in Hell...That's of Lucifer. I'm not paying respects to my brother. I'm paying respects to my nephew, you dig?"
Yet the fire remained intact. Castiel's face darkened. "Fallen."
The stranger reached up and pulled on the black scarf covering his face. He was very handsome, as most angels, fallen or not, were. His lips were full and sensual, his eyes in the fire showed brown, almost black pupils. He had short brown hair, styled military in a buzz straight across his scalp. Like Dean...Like the demons before him, his clothing of choice was a dark ensemble of boots, jeans and a leather jacket over a thin t-shirt.
"I prefer Dante..., Castiel," said Dante. "Now if you please. The holy fire? It'd be quite a story to tell about getting sunburned at night...So why don't we just tone it down and talk for a minute? I don't mean you any harm."
Castiel didn't lower his weapon. "Why should I believe you? Fallen don't talk to Loyalists unless they're trying to kill them."
"You're hardly loyalist...and I have something to discuss with you. C'mon now. It's hot and I've been waiting for weeks for you to grab the balls to talk to me," Dante pulled back his hood and crossed his arms just as Castiel stopped in front of him.
"Oh, so you're not paying respects, are you?" Castiel glowered. "You know, I think I'll keep you right where you are. You can talk to me, and I'll listen."
"Very mature, Castiel. In the meanwhile, why don't you buy some marshmallows and put on your short shorts?"
"I'll pass on that, thank you. Now you will answer my questions. Why-" But he was cut off by the sound of a revving engine. It was definitely past midnight, yet there was a huge black truck parked near the cemetery gates. The lights flashed in their direction twice to show they had been found.
"Abductors," Dante muttered like it was an expletive. His eyes flashed to Castiel in near panic. "Listen, douse the flames. Fast. Quickly! Before they come over here."
Castiel extended his senses. "They're human...and we're poaching. I can talk them away."
"No, you can't," said Dante. "Yes, they're human. But they work for hunters. Hunters capture and kill demons." When Castiel looked at him in some surprise, he continued. "What? You think the humans haven't learned to fight back? You think Manhattan was the first sign of demon invasion? Listen, these guys are ruthless. They have weapons...devices...that can detect your body heat. If it's too high or...in your case, too low."
"I have nothing to fear from a human," said Castiel dismissively.
"You're restrained by rules. You won't kill them if they try to kill you. And they will. They'll definitely find you and me some interesting specimens. Douse the flames! You have to trust me!"
Castiel gave him a hard, skeptical look. He glanced the way of the truck and saw that they were coming out of the truck, busy in the back unloading. Then he blocked his view of the humans, slowly raising his hand over the ring of fire and letting it die down until it disappeared. Nothing appeared disturbed when he was through.
Dante came up next to Castiel, hands in his pocket, attempting to appear casual. "Let me do all the talking. Whatever you do, do not drink anything they offer you."
What an odd request. "Let me guess, it's poison?"
"It's Stigma. If you consume it, let's just say, you'll be thrashing about on the floor if you're don't have normal body temperature," said Dante, drawing out a silver flask. "This is just water. We'll use it as an excuse."
"It's still not too late to just fly away, Dante," Castiel pointed out.
"By all means, Celestial. Pull out the wings and show them how angels exist coexist with demons on their turf," said Dante sardonically. "Next, you'll see they'll be chasing your kind instead of mine."
Still skeptical, Castiel watched as they approached. He adjusted his coat more over himself so that his sword was hidden. Dante's was hidden on his back he was sure, there was no other explanation for that bulge underneath his jacket. There was four of them in total. Maybe five or six if two remained in the truck. Like Dante and Castiel, whatever they had brought was stowed away inside their clothes.
They looked like normal humans. One, in fact looked like a lumber jack with a red and white plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up and tight blue jeans with brown boots. He had long brown hair and a beard. Down from the country by the look of him. He chewed tobacco and spit it out with a loud sniff when he was near. The other three dressed just as odd. One wore a black business suit and had slicked blonde hair. Another had on a t-shirt and black Adidas track pants on. And the last wore a simple white and black striped shirt and jeans. It was like seeing all forms of attire on men, ever. Working, Casual and workout wear.
Later, Castiel would realize they were doing the same thing Dante and him were doing: blending in.
"You boys normally trespass around graveyards at night?" The lumberjack asked.
"We're visiting a friend. He died today...My brother here," Dante smoothly indicated Castiel. "Was eager to see him before opening hours. I couldn't deny him."
Lumberjack chewed tobacco loudly before speaking and looking at Castiel. "That a fact?"
"It is," said Castiel almost defiantly. "The gravekeeper doesn't come until sundown, I figured what harm would it be if we came to pay respects a little early."
"It's awfully late," said business suit. They didn't know their names and he was pretty sure neither Dante nor he cared to find out. Might as well acknowledge them based on what odd attire they were wearing in their group.
"Yes, it is. But I didn't want to make the little shrimp cry so I figured we'd be in and out,"
"As a matter of fact," Castiel interjected. "We were just leaving."
"Were you?" said track suit. "There's been a lot of odd happenings in this town. Electrical storms cutting the power...Farms goin' dead because of crop failure...Figured we'd make it a point to patrol late at night."
"You can't play crime watch because of odd weather patterns. That's absurd," Castiel pointed out.
Dante kicked Castiel's heel. " Haha...My brother. Always so observant."
Lumberjack looked at him coldly. "You'd be surprised. What's your name?"
"My name is none of-"
"His name is Cas. I'm Dante. We really should be going," said Dante, taking Castiel's arm. "We got a long way to go."
They turned, and Castiel couldn't believe his luck. They hovered around Dean's grave and that was less than comforting, but if they were as terrifying as Dante seemed to imply, then Castiel was simply glad to get away.
"Hold up for just a second," One of them called out.
So much for luck. Dante's hand wrapped hard around Castiel's wrist. "Don't...say a word."
Dante turned around. "Come on, guys. We'll pay the trespassing fee if there is one. But we just want to get home."
Lumberjack was coming towards them. "You said you came a long way. Hate to leave a neighbor hanging. We got food in the truck. Forgot my manners. You guys hungry?"
He was all sweet now and lacking suspicion, and that was suspicious by itself.
"We're fine," said Dante politely. "Thanks for offering."
"I insist," said Lumberjack persistently. "Come on over, guys. We're all night owls here. May as well stay up together, aye?"
His tone was equally polite but there was edge to it. He or his friends must have told him to get Castiel and Dante to agree at all costs.
Saying no would sound suspicious.
But Dante clearly had other plans. Raising his hand, his raised two fingers and his thumb as though he was gripping an invisible force. His sleeve rolled back just slightly and Castiel saw the marking "IX" on his wrist.
"Richard," Dante's voice was soothing as though he was comforting a child. "Richard. There's nothing suspicious about us. There is absolutely no need to conduct your tests. Upon further inspection, you realized there was nothing amiss about the two of us. We were just in the wrong place, wrong time. It was just a common mistake. Just a common mistake. Just a common mistake."
The more he said it, the deeper the words seemed to impress upon the man's head. Hypnosis? Hardly. He was influencing his mind, taking it over. Fallen had power no one could ever imagine. If the Imperial class demons who masqueraded as humans were considered demons, then he shuddered to think what Fallen could be considered. Truly, Fallen were the worst spawn Hell ever produced or tainted, rather. Because these were loyalists at some point and they answered to God before answering to Lucifer.
"Just a common mistake," Lumberjack Richard repeated slowly in a low mumble. He scratched his head. "You're right. I don't think there's anything to worry about with you two. I'm uh...I'm sorry for taking up your time. You two take care, all right?"
Dante dropped his hand and watched him walk back to his comrades, casting confused looks at the pair of them.
"You influenced his mind," said Castiel. "That's forbidden even by Hell standards. Rule number one for both sides is never to interfere with free will."
"That's subjective when lives are on the line, Castiel. Demons break that rule every day when they create other demons. You think any human soul willingly jumps the gun becoming a demon? No. Not once. Now, hurry up. Any second now they're going to realize the kid's brainwashed and chase after us with stakes and shit," said Dante, pulling Castiel into a fast walk as they blended into a forest not too far from the graveyard.
Castiel wrenched his arm free and stood back as soon as they were clear. "Brainwashed. Exactly. I don't work with Fallen."
"You worked with a demon just fine," said Dante coolly. "Several, in fact. You...actually were instrumental to the halt of the apocalypse one year ago, am I right?"
"You seem to know a lot about me, Dante," Castiel remarked. "My name...My affiliations."
"I know enough...I know you were there when our beloved ruler fell into the pit. And again, I'm not talking about Lucifer. The Prince. CEO. King, if you're feeling dramatic. I know you dragged his body to this spot and buried him in that cemetery. What you didn't care to notice is...He's not dead."
"What are you talking about? His soul was pulled out of his body. I saw that happen, in case you weren't aware. He's dead."
"You saw a soul dragged out of its body and pulled into Hell. Clearly, you're not familiar with demon physiology. Demons turn to ash when permanently killed. There wouldn't be a body to drag into a grave if he was ash, now would there?"
"What are you getting at?" Castiel all but snapped. "That what, Dean's alive?"
"The body is alive. It has a beating heart and a pulse. Did you not check for that?" Dante asked, then finished. "No, by your face, I assume you didn't. Do you know why that is? Because he's not dead. No soul goes willingly into the pit. Every being in the ninth circle was banished there by either Lucifer or Dean...and Dean and his loving father are the only beings that entered the realm without being banished. Therefore, once we return the soul...Prince Charming wakes up and all is well again."
It took Castiel a few moments to digest this. A live body...He had never heard such a thing. By now, enough time had passed for the body to have decayed. The body was alive and kicking? He didn't know why, but he had a wild idea to go back and check...See for himself.
"Why are you telling me this?" Castiel asked. "Why are you telling me that we need only return his soul. He's dead, Dante. For all intents and purposes, that body will never walk and talk again without its soul. So how can we possibly get it back from that realm if there is no escape from it? How can we possibly even get there? I know not the spell to create a portal. The only ones that do are Michael, Raphael, Gabriel and I assume Dean since he created one. They're all either dead or missing."
"First off, darling...A dimensional door is not the only way into the ninth circle. Dean himself banished hundreds of demons and Lucifer condemned hundreds of lost souls into the ninth circle. Don't worry about the way in. There's always a way in...A way out is what should concern you," said Dante, leaning back so all of his weight fell on his back leg. "Lucky for you...You're in the presence of someone who's been there...done that."
"You've been to the ninth circle," Castiel stated.
Dante rolled up one sleeve to show the tattoo in the moonlight. Again, Castiel's eyes focused upon the black "IX" on his wrist in enhanced view.
"You escaped," Castiel murmured. "How?"
Dante pulled his sleeve over the mark. "That's not the right question, Castiel. The right question you should be asking yourself is, how far are you willing to go to get him back?"
Castiel opened his mouth and then closed it, locking his jaw and looking away. "Why are you asking me this?"
"I'm not asking you. You should be asking you," said Dante, casually leaning against a tall tree and drawing out a cigarette. "I'm not saying it's going to be easy. I'm saying it's going to be hard as fuck. It's going to take time. One year is nothing to an angel, but a lot to a trapped soul being tortured to mutilation every passing day, don't you think?"
His words made Castiel flinch. Of course he had thought about that. Of course it passed his mind every waking hour. And he never slept. "What would I have to do?"
A slow smile spread across Dante's face in the shadow as he pushed out some smoke through his teeth. "Forget. You'd have to forget everything you know. You'd have to sacrifice everything. There is no passage into the deepest of Hell for someone in your state. You're not ready. You're not nearly ready. But you could be...with guidance of course."
All of Castiel's doubts returned. "And I suppose you'll be the one guiding me? And I suppose this comes at no cost to you."
"Hell no. Literally," said Dante. "You think I'd go back there for free? I'm going back there because I want what you want."
"And what do I want?"
Dante drew closer to him, whispered the word in his ear. "Balance."
Castiel leaned back, away. "Don't stand close to me. I can hardly stand your presence as it is."
Dante laughed. "If you don't believe me, dig up the grave. Pull it out from six feet under. See that breathing, beating corpse for yourself and make your own judgment."
"Maybe I will," Castiel lifted his chin in defiance. "Maybe I would not for you. Maybe you're just like the rest: another deceptive, lying Fallen angel with nothing better to do than torment a soldier."
Dante put up a fake pout of his lips. "Am I tormenting you, Castiel? That's so sad. C'mon. Give yourself some credit. Your boy needed some incentive to do what he did."
Without another word to Dante, Castiel traced his path all the way back to the graveyard. He passed the tree he had taken refuge in before and found himself at Dean's grave. The humans weren't there any longer. Gone perhaps now that they were confident that Castiel and Dante wouldn't be returning. In no time, he found himself standing before Dean's grave, stopping dead. The name was bolder than usual, shadows dancing over the letters in the moonlight.
He took a step back when he had cleared enough distance.
Castiel snapped his fingers and from the depths the black coffin tore from beneath the headstone, hovering a few feet in the air. He dropped it on flatter ground and stepped towards its foot, opening the coffin with another snap of his fingers.
What he found made him step back in shock.
"You said..."
Dante crept up next to him. "Huh." He stepped around the coffin to the side where he inspected the side. "Fingerprints. Human. Dents in the wood. Opened by force but not by hands. Crowbar maybe. Hmm...Lock's been tampered with."
"You lied to me,"
Dante held up one finger. "No, I said he has a heartbeat and a pulse and a living breathing body. How was I supposed to know he'd been taken from grave? In fact, you come here more often than I do. Maybe you should be the one questioning yourself."
Castiel trembled with rage. "You took him?"
"Hardly," said Dante, tilting his head to inspect the lock further. "You heard me say human, didn't you? Patrol truck comes by...finds us...Guard duty, maybe. Ensuring no one dug it up...hmm..possible. Waiting for demons maybe...I...underestimated them."
"What, the humans took him? That's impossible unless someone told them what value he is. What have you told them?"
"What have I told them?" Dante placed a hand over his chest. "Nothing. I don't make it my business to exchange valuable information with humanity, thank you."
"Then, how else would they know where Dean is?! How else would they know he'd be right here?! Why would they take his body?!" Castiel growled. " Maybe you took it. Maybe your Fallen have it, burning it alive for your amusement."
"My Fallen...are for the most part trapped inside the ninth circle, save for the few that betrayed the crown and helped resurrect Lucifer. Those guys, now those guys are dead by now...But that circle should be your only concern for the moment," said Dante slowly as he stood upright. "It's the soul that matters now. Not the body. I was only trying to make you believe me. If it's absence is not proof enough that we should get our asses cracking, then I don't know what is."
"His body is gone," said Castiel through his teeth. "We need to find it."
"We won't find it. It has no traceable signature, no Will left inside it. It's just a heartbeat. Like you said, It's nothing sans the soul,"
Castiel couldn't fight the feeling inside him. Anger coiling with a desperate need to find the body. Dean was dead. The body was alive. That didn't make sense, but if...if the soul could be recovered...then he wanted it to have a home in the form Dean was used to.
"If it's being mutilated...Burned..,"
"Don't worry about that," said Dante.
"If it's been destroyed-"
"Then we'll rebuild it!" Dante shouted, drawing close, tapping Castiel's forehead hard with two fingers. "Piece by piece from your memory. It doesn't matter. The most they'll find from him is a brain dead corpse showing medical signs of life. They can't extract anything from it. Whatever they're planning, just forget about it. We have to focus on getting his soul out of hell. Once it's out, we can reunite the body to it's soul and he can wake up from there. That's all we need to focus on."
"No, you know what? I've had enough Fallen deception to last me a life time. I'm done here," Castiel turned on his heel and began to walk away.
"Where are you going, Castiel? Back to your legion? Back to trying to save the world, one dead demon at a time? You honestly think you'll change anything that way?"
Castiel ignored him, walked faster.
"It's hard to believe he chose you. It's hard to believe...he loved you,"
That stopped Castiel. His foot seemed to falter on its own when he turned just halfway, meeting Dante's gaze. "In all my time knowing Dean, he never once spoke those words."
"And yet you doubt them?"
Castiel blinked and looked away. "He never said it."
"And yet you love him," Dante put his hands in his pockets and stepped towards him. "You love him so much, it's burning you on the inside. You love him so much, that you hate yourself for wishing even for a second that this world be damned for Lucifer's wrathful plan if you could get one more second with Dean. I know you, Castiel. I know you spent hours holding that body for fear it would fade away just as fast as his soul did from the body. I know what he meant to you. "
"Quiet," Castiel snarled. "You know nothing."
"Or I'm right on the button, pumpkin," Dante smiled. "But you'll never know if he'd ever felt the same way, will you, Castiel? All you'll be left with is a faded memory and an empty heart. I know love when I see it. And I know it's not something so easily repeated. Not for us."
"I said, quiet," Castiel curled his hands into fists. A flicker of lightning passed through his knuckles.
Dante was close now, invading Castiel's personal space, just a breath away on his lips. "Forever is a long time to spend by yourself, brother. What would you give to have eternity with someone you love? Hmm..."
Castiel said nothing. The power he summoned began to die from his hands and he let them fall, loose by his side.
"If you change your mind...You need only call my name...I'll be there. I'm always close by," said Dante, side stepping from Castiel and walking past. "Oh yeah, and I'd try to keep a more secure eye on this town. They got Dean. What are the odds they'll gun for little Sammy next? Good day to you."