Thank you so much Jenjoremy for the awesome beta job and Gredelina1 for all your help.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Sam was leaning back in his chair, beer in hand and smile on his face. He was listening to the chatter around him and feeling almost peaceful. He glanced at Castiel, the reason complete peace evaded him, and saw he was smiling though looking slightly confused as Kevin and Charlie enthusiastically explained one of the video games they'd been playing recently. Dean was listening too, a fond smile on his face.
Sam took a draw on his beer and tipped his head back, staring up at the high ceiling and just enjoying the moment. It was as good as things were going to be for them from now on, he thought.
"Tessa!" Dean said, surprise in his voice.
Sam let his chair drop back to all fours and looked across and saw Missouri and Tessa coming into the room.
Tessa smiled at them, "Hello."
"How are you?" Sam asked.
She considered before answering. "Different."
She certainly looked it. As they came deeper into the room, Sam got a good look at her. Her eyes, which had always seemed timeless to Sam, were clear and bright, full of wonder that he had never seen when she had been a reaper. She looked human now.
She came and took a seat between Sam and Dean, and Sam noticed how her movements were precise.
"I'll get us some tea," Missouri said. "I bought all the fixings with me." She went to her handbag where it hung from the back of her chair and pulled out a baggie of what looked like dried grass clippings and leaves.
"Hell no!" Dean said loudly.
Missouri raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me, Dean Winchester?"
Dean looked apologetic. "I'm sorry, Missouri, but if this going to be Tessa's first drink as a human, it should be a good one."
Missouri put her hands on her hips. "Are you saying there's something wrong with my tea?"
"I'm sure it's great when it's not laced with Ambien," he replied. "But she should start as she means to go on—with a good time." He pulled a beer from the six-pack in front of him, twisted off the cap, and handed it to Tessa. "Enjoy."
Tessa took a nervous sip and then grinned. "It tastes so different now."
Castiel nodded sagely. "Everything will."
Tessa took a deeper draw. "It's good."
"Of course it is," Dean said. "Beer is one of the things us humans are good at."
Kevin perked up. "If you want a human experience, you need to try one of Dean's hamburgers."
"Oooh, yeah," Charlie said excitedly. "You definitely need them in your life."
Dean looked pleased at their enthusiasm, but his voice was reluctant as he said, "I guess I could fix some…"
"Please, Dean." Charlie fixed her imploring eyes on him.
"Stop teasing," Missouri scolded. "You know you've already decided."
Dean grinned and stood up. "Burgers all around?" At their nods, he said, "Awesome. Sammy, you can be my assistant."
Sam grabbed his beer and followed Dean out of the room. When they got to the kitchen, Dean went straight to the fridge and began searching the shelves.
"Burgers might be an issue," he said after a moment
"Why?" Sam asked.
"Well, I'm good, but even I can't make beef burgers without the beef." He peered over his shoulder at Sam. "We're out of pretty much everything."
"No problem," Sam said. "I'll go to the store. Write me a list of everything we need."
Dean clapped him on the shoulder. "You're a hero, Sam."
Sam snorted. "Yeah. Sure."
Dean grabbed the magnetic notepad from the fridge and began scrawling a list for Sam.
Sam leaned against the counter and thought about what Dean had said. He wasn't a hero. The great acts in his life were to make up for the great failings. But there were heroes in his life, like Dean and Castiel. Tessa was one, too. She had given up everything she knew for the sake of Heaven. That was huge.
Sam wondered what her life would be now. She must have incredible knowledge of the world, and her body wasn't that old; she could make a really good life for herself. He wondered if she was going to stick around with them or go with Missouri. He thought Missouri was the more likely choice. Life at the bunker wasn't exactly peaceful most of the time, though that would change now that Metatron and Gadreel had been dealt with. It was the Abaddon fight that came next, and that was on Crowley, with Sam and Dean's support if there was anything they could do. But Kevin and Charlie…
He gasped and Dean looked up. "What?"
"We're done," Sam said in a surprised tone.
Dean frowned. "With what?"
"The tablets, I mean. Metatron and Gadreel are done. Heaven is open. There's nothing else we need the tablets for. What's Kevin going to do now?"
Dean looked surprised, and Sam was sure he'd not realized this before he mentioned it. "I don't know," he said. "I mean he can do what he wants, right? Wow. He really can do what he wants. He could go back to school now."
Sam felt a pang of pain at the idea of losing Kevin's presence in the bunker, but he nodded and forced a smile. "I think he'd like that."
"Yeah," Dean said. "Charlie can help with the whole fudging a record for him and finances—she can keep skimming the corporate pot. That's something we'll need to sort out for Tessa, too, actually. Man, this is new territory for us."
Sam realized it was, and it shouldn't have been. They should have done it all for Castiel, too. Why hadn't they thought of it? They had been preoccupied with Abaddon and Metatron, and Dean with Gadreel, but they should have thought about their friend.
Dean jotted a couple more items on his list and handed it over. Seeing Sam's discomfort, he said, "We'll fix it, Sammy."
And though Sam knew there was no way of fixing it now, it was too late for Castiel to be helped or saved, he nodded and said, "Sure we will," confidently.
He tucked the list in his jeans pocket and made for the door, Dean following.
His dour mood faded as he passed through the library and heard Charlie's cheerful voice saying, "Seriously! A handmaiden!"
Dean groaned, "Charlie, you better not be talking about what I think you are."
Charlie looked unabashed and Sam laughed. He clapped Dean on the shoulder and said, "Be right back," waved to the others and made for the door.
He was feeling good again as he scaled the stairs and opened the door. The sun momentarily dazzled him, so he didn't see her at first. The door had swung closed behind him and he was blinking rapidly to bring his gaze into focus when he heard her sultry voice saying, "Well, Winchester, it's nice to see you again."
A jolt of shock rocked through him. "Abaddon!"
The sun moved behind a cloud and he saw her standing at the top of the stairs. Sam cursed the fact he hadn't brought a weapon with him, though what weapon would work against her he didn't know.
For a moment, he considered shouting for help, but he disregarded the urge. The only one inside the bunker that had a chance of fighting her was Castiel, and he wasn't at full power. It was much more likely she would kill him, and Sam would not take any of the days remaining from him. He would not risk her getting at the others or the contents of the bunker either. He would handle this alone. Sam walked up the stairs toward her, straight-backed and proud.
She looked him up and down as if assessing him. "Hmm, not bad." She reached forward and tore at his shirt, exposing his tattoo with the scar running through it, breaking the perfect lines that protected him.
She laughed. "Oh, this is too good. I was going to use your brother, but here you are, unprotected and ready for action. You'll do just nicely. My free pass."
"No!" Sam breathed, understanding at once. She could kill him, he could handle that. She could torture him even, but he could not bear to be possessed again. He could not lose control of his own body and keep his sanity.
"Oh yes," she whispered. Her head flew back and smoke began to pour from her mouth.
"No!" Sam bellowed, then he felt the smoke pouring into him and he could speak no more. He felt himself being overpowered from fingertips to toes, and he despaired.
"Oh yes," she said again, though this time the words came from Sam's mouth with Sam's voice. "This will do just nicely."
Sam heard the bolts on the door being disengaged, and he cried out within his mind, terrified for whichever of his friends or family were coming for him.
"I don't think so," Abaddon said, and Sam felt a lurch as they vanished just as the door creaked open.
"I wasn't really a handmaiden," Dean said. "It was just what we told this dick Boltar the Furious, who, incidentally, turned out to be using fairy magic to kill people because he was in love with Charlie. When it came down to the actual fight, I was a General, right Charlie?"
"Yeah you were," she said indulgently. "Complete with Braveheart speech."
Kevin raised an eyebrow and Dean glared at him, daring him to speak. That speech was a classic and Dean had rocked it. There was no shame in borrowing from the greats.
"It was pretty awesome," Charlie went on. "And it worked—we kicked ass."
"Yeah we did," Dean said leaning back in his seat.
"This is a regular occurrence, this Moondoor?" Castiel asked.
"Yeah, we've been absent lately, what with world saving to do, but we're getting back to it."
"I would like to see—" Castiel cut off suddenly and his eyes widened. "Sam!" He leaped to his feet and raced out of the room.
Dean was on his feet and following before he ever realized what he was doing. Castiel ran up the stairs and yanked open the door, rushing out, and Dean was at his back a moment later. The first thing he saw was Abaddon lying prone on the dirt at the top of the steps.
"Shit!" Dean gasped, slamming the door shut to stop anyone that he could hear racing up the stairs coming out after him into danger.
Castiel approached Abaddon slowly, tentatively, and Dean called out a warning. "Cas, no!"
Castiel ignored him. His expression serious, he reached down and turned Abaddon onto her back. She rolled limply, no resistance.
"Is she dead?" Dean asked hopefully.
"Yes," Castiel said.
Dean breathed out a shaky breath and raked her body with his eyes. He could see no wound or mark on her that would explain her end.
"What do you think happened?" he asked.
Castiel looked at him, his expression odd in the circumstances of victory; it was sorrowful. "This is not Abaddon, Dean," he said.
"What?"
"This is an empty vessel. Abaddon left her."
Dean's mind took a while to catch up, unwilling to accept the truth. "Then where is… No!"
Castiel nodded. "I'm sorry, Dean."
"No!" Dean shouted. "She can't." His hands came up to pull at his hair. "He can't… It will…" The words he could not speak rushed through his mind, "It will break him." Sam would not be able to handle losing control of himself again. After Lucifer, after Gadreel, it would destroy him.
Castiel looked as horrified as Dean felt but when he spoke, his tone was one of forced calm. "He is strong, Dean."
"Not strong enough," Dean moaned.
"Yes!" Castiel said firmly. "He is. He will hold out."
"Until what?" Dean asked. "How do we get him back?"
Castiel pushed past him and hammered his fist on the door. It opened at once and Charlie's scared face appeared in the crack. Castiel pushed past her into the bunker and Dean followed on leaden feet.
"What's happened?" Charlie asked.
Neither Castiel nor Dean answered. Dean didn't have the words or strength to say it aloud, to make what had happened real. Missouri gasped though, and Dean knew she had heard it in his thoughts. "No!" she moaned.
Dean staggered down the stairs and Castiel pushed him toward a chair; he collapsed into it.
"What happened?" Charlie asked, her voice demanding now.
"Abaddon has taken Sam," Castiel said, his voice despairing.
"What? No!"
"Are you sure?" Kevin asked tremulously.
"Positive," Castiel said.
Dean bowed over and covered his face with his hands. He could not handle this. He felt like he was being torn apart and burned all over at the same time.
"What do we do?" Charlie asked.
That was the problem. Dean didn't know. They had no weapon to use against Abaddon, and even if they did, they couldn't use it on Sam. Henry had said the Men of Letters had tried to exorcise her, and it hadn't worked. They couldn't get her out of him. Their only hope was that Sam regain control himself as John had done when Yellow-Eyes was in him, and as Bobby had done.
"First, we find him," Castiel said, seeming to gain confidence and calm as Dean lost his own.
"How?" Dean asked.
"We use the allies we have," Castiel said. "We need the angels and Crowley. Kevin, please pray to Bartholomew, he will listen to you as a prophet."
Kevin looked doubtful. "Do I have to do anything special, like say amen?"
"Just address him by name," Castiel said. "Tell him I need to see him urgently. Ask him to call me when he reaches earth again."
Kevin raised his eyes heavenward and said, "Uh, Bartholomew, it's Kevin Tran, the prophet. We need help. Cas says can you call him? Uh… Thank you."
"Dean, call Crowley," Castiel commanded. "He will answer for you."
Dean looked up at him blearily. "What can he do?"
"He can help us," Castiel said firmly.
Feeling like he was moving on autopilot, Dean pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed Crowley's number. A moment later, Crowley's cheerful voice answered. "Squirrel, what can I do for you?"
"I need you to come," Dean said in a dead voice.
"What's happened?" Crowley asked, no concern in his tone, just curiosity.
"Just come," Dean said, cutting the call and dropping his hands back to his lap.
"Dean Winchester," Missouri said firmly. "Look at me."
Something about the command in her voice made Dean look up and pay attention to the room.
"Stop!" she commanded. "You're the one with the most to lose in this room, and you're giving up. This is Sam! You have to fight for him, do you understand me? You cannot give up. Sam needs you."
"No," Dean said in a defeated tone. "Sam needs a miracle." He stood on shaky legs and made for the door.
"Where are you going?"
Dean didn't answer her. There was nothing to say.
Dean stood by the burning pyre of Josie Sands and blinked away the smoke that was making his eyes burn and tear.
He had built the pyre on autopilot, not particularly caring for the poor woman that Abaddon had trashed, merely doing it because it was something that needed to be done and something he could do.
He heard someone coming but he didn't bother to look to see who it was or to wipe at the tears at his face. What was the point anyway?
"Dean," Castiel said, coming to stand beside him, staring at him intently.
"What?"
"We need you," he said. "Charlie has had an idea, and we need your help."
"Yeah?" he asked, unable to find any interest or curiosity for Charlie's idea.
"We think we can utilize the weather patterns and nature signs to trace Abaddon the way your friend Ash did before when you were hunting Azazel. Charlie believes she can create a program for the computer, but she needs to know the parameters your father worked with."
"The journal," Dean said tonelessly. "It's in my bedroom on the desk. It's all in there."
"Thank you," Castiel said then he paused.
"Something else you want, Cas?" he asked.
"This is not Sam's body," Castiel said. "Sam is still alive."
"I know," Dean said dully. Sam was alive but trapped inside his own body by an incredibly powerful demon, with little hope of rescue.
"And yet you're out here burning a stranger instead of fighting to save your brother. How does that make sense?"
Dean turned haunted eyes on him. "It's all I can do. I don't know what to do for Sam. Even if we find Abaddon, how do we get her out? Be honest, Cas, do you see this ending well for him?"
"I do," Castiel said. "Because Sam is strong and so is your bond."
"What does that have to do with anything?" Dean asked.
Castiel frowned. "When you're ready to fight for him, too, as we all are, I will tell you."
Dean turned away. He knew Castiel was just trying to lure him into going back into that bunker, not seeing that Dean could hardly bear to be there, seeing Sam in every corner.
He was going to stay out here and burn this body, lay it to rest, because that he could do.
So… What do you think? This wasn't in the original outline, but the fact Sam didn't have his tattoo seemed too good a plot point to ignore, and of course, Abaddon was the obvious choice.
Until next time…
Clowns or Midgets xxx