"Still got your stake, Sam?" Dean asked, keeping his eye on the witch blocking their path.
"Right here."
"Okay. Cas?" Dean turned to his friend in the back seat. "Stay here. These witches are obviously after Sel, so best not to leave him unprotected." The angel nodded once in compliance.
After exchanging glances, the Winchesters exited the vehicle, closing the doors behind them. Quietly, Castiel remarked to the unconscious archangel. "You know ... now would be a very good time for you to wake up."
Sam and Dean cautiously stepped onto the asphalt, sharpened wood gripped tightly within their fingers as they eyed the woman with determination. "Okay, so we kill this bitch and then what," Dean muttered to his brother, stopping him with a hand to the hunter's arm. "You really think taking Sleeping Beauty back with us is smart?"
"You got any better ideas?"
"Just sayin' our track record with archangels isn't the most stellar …" he suggested.
"Dude," Sam whispered as he ducked his head a bit closer. "Cas says he's different."
"That doesn't mean jack squat."
"No, Dean, listen. You saw how he reacted to Sel back there. It is different. I mean, you've seen him around the others-Michael, Raphael, Metatron-he was scared. True, yeah, he'd try to hide it, but he was obviously scared. He's not scared around Sel."
"He's also been through a lot since then. You know, commander of God's Army."
"Dean-"
"Look, I'm not makin' excuses, okay? I just got a really bad feeling."
"You girls gonna gossip all night, or are we going to get this started?" the witch called over to them, palm raised with sparks flickering from her fingertips.
"Oh, trust me, sweetheart," Dean scowled at the witch as he refocused his attention on the impending fight. "We were just stalling for time. Thought you might like a minute to make peace with your maker … or … whatever."
"Touching," she replied with a monotone of disbelief. "You boys have something that doesn't belong to you. Give it back."
"And if we don't?" Sam asked confidently, posture straightening with his defiance.
"I fry you."
"And," Dean interjected, "hypothetically speaking, we give it back? Then what?"
"I fry you," she concurred with a sing-song tone and a nod.
"Fantastic."
The Winchesters exchanged glances for a single beat before turning away from each other and taking several steps in opposite directions, keeping their focus on the witch.
"I'll take this as a 'no' from the both of you," she replied coldly, her eyes narrowing from annoyance.
"Lady, you need to work on your negotiating skills," Sam commented dryly.
With a snarl, she lifted her arms to the sky. Wind strengthened, rustling the leaves and branches around them, the flowing fabric of her long sleeves flapping in the air as her hair whipped behind her. Clouds formed and grew in height and girth, lightning flashes illuminating the waves as they slowly began to swirl amid rumbling thunder.
"I'm done playing," she sneered as her eyes rolled into a white gloss.
"Demon witch? Seriously?" Dean huffed with irritation, but the woman was unimpressed, her head snapping in the direction of the Impala as her right hand jerked toward it. The car jarred from the sudden gust of wind that knocked it three feet. "Oh HELL no! Don't you frickin' touch my car."
"Shut up," the witch snapped just before a bolt shot from the sky above, striking the ground at Dean's feet and propelling the hunter several feet back, his stake falling far out of his reach.
"DEAN!" Sam shouted as his brother's body lay still on the asphalt. Never before had he hated a woman's chuckle as much as this one.
"Pathetic. I thought the famous Winchesters would be more of a challenge."
Growling, Sam glared at her as drops of rain began their slow descent from the sky. "You know, for such a powerful bitch, you sure seem bent on getting this weapon. Why do you even need it?"
"Pfft, who said it's for me?" she cackled as she pushed her hands forward, another gale force wind knocking the hunter into the line of trees. Sam grunted from pain as he felt the impact on his spine. Uninterested, the woman redirected her attention to the Impala, meeting the blue eyes of the angel within, eyes that narrowed in determination.
"Be right back," Castiel quietly announced to the unconscious general just prior to vanishing; he reappeared less than a beat later, standing sentry before the door of the car, tie tossed over the shoulder by the gusts shuddering the landscape around them. He ignored the flying debris, the leaves and branches that littered the air at injuring speeds.
"You must be Castiel," the witch cooed with a small smirk twitching at her coral lips. But the angel said nothing, much to her chagrin; he did not offer her a clever quip or even the slightest retort. "What? No snappy comeback? How disappointing."
Castiel kept his gaze upon her as he moved away from the car, resting his fingers to Dean's brow to awaken him.
"That's cheating," she scoffed as the hunter suddenly gasped for air, regaining consciousness as he was healed. "What? Don't like it when somebody else plays with your toys?" she taunted with a playful pout. "Did I hurt your pwecious widdle feelwings?"
His angel blade slid from his sleeve and into his grasp.
"Nice pointy stick, kid, but it's the wrong kind!" the witch teased as her hands moved before her, ready to strike again, only to witness the angel vanish once more. Huffing from annoyance, she nearly didn't notice Sam rushing at her from the left. Immediately, she jerked her arm toward him, and the hunter barely managed to maneuver from her path before another bolt of lightning struck the ground; he could still feel the tingle in the air from the near-hit, his heart nearly stopping with the closeness of it all. Thankfully, he had caused enough of a diversion for Castiel to make his move, appearing suddenly in front of her as he thrust his blade through her ribcage.
The witch shrieked, a piercing sound echoed by the thunder around them … and then dissolving into shrill laughter as she wiggled on his blade, dancing from side to side as though she felt nothing at all.
"You're cute," she cooed in amusement as she pat his left cheek, delighting in his worried expression. "But stupid," she added with a hiss as her fingers spread over his face and suddenly pushed his head back, propelling his body back to the fallen hunters and shifting her attention to the Impala once more as she approached it …
"Oh no you don't," Dean growled as he quickly pushed himself up from the slick asphalt, rushing toward her as Castiel rolled to his feet.
"I am so done with you," she spat as she spun to face them, grabbing Dean by the shoulders and throwing him easily to the other side of the road beside his brother. Castiel then grabbed her from behind, attempting to hold her in place, away from the cargo. "I admire your persistence, but you're really not my type," she quipped as she struggled against him and suddenly jerked forward, pulling her with him and slamming the angel to the ground.
As the Winchesters attempted to run to her again, the witch stood upright once more and another bolt of lightning struck the ground between them. "DO NOT!" she roared. "YOU ARE WASTING MY TIME! YOU INSIGNIFICANT SACKS OF-"
She was silenced as the point of a wooden stake pierced the back of her neck to exit between her teeth, choking on the birch weapon prying her jaw at an awkward angle; her white eyes wide, she slowly turned to face her unseen attacker.
Though the trench coat was familiar, it was not worn by its usual bearer. Selaphiel stood, rain-soaked and pale, but with a determination in her glowing eyes. She was angry. And for a brief moment, the Winchesters could have sworn they saw an unnatural phenomenon; the lightning above rolled through the clouds behind and above the archangel in a pattern that almost appeared to be in the shape of not two, but six wings …
The witch gurgled in terror, unable to breathe, unable to function for any good to herself other than pure fear at the woman standing before her, the archangel cupping the witch's face within her pale fingers as their enemy's eyes and mouth burned with the light of the Holy General's smiting. And it was that moment Selaphiel spoke, her voice quiet and gentle alto, calm and resonating with power.
"Surprise, bitch."
The witch faded into dust.
{{ To be continued in Chapter 5: She's So Heavy }}