Chapter Twenty-Two
Old Grudge Sealed with New Blood
CW/TW: whipping, verbal abuse, assault, mentions of torture, and implied sexual assault
Bobby's House: July 16, 2010
Rowena watched her son pace the small living room and wondered what had him on edge. She was pulling cards from her tarot deck, trying to gauge the situation in Japan with limited success. The only card that kept showing up was Death, and considering His archangel was there, that meant little. She sighed, pulling the recent draw back into the deck.
"You'll put a hole in the carpet, Fergus." She frowned when he didn't snap at her and turned her focus to him. Azrial's words had been stuck in her head, swirling uncomfortably anytime Fergus was around. As far as she was concerned, Azrial was a damn saint for putting up with Fergus. Death hadn't eased the man's temper, and Hell had turned subtle viciousness into a sharp weapon to be wielded against his enemies. From what she'd gathered from Sam, he'd even chased Azrial off after she'd saved his life. Why she, and now Bobby, seemed inclined to give her son the benefit of the doubt baffled her.
"Hey, you joining us for breakfast?" Sam asked as he entered the living room.
"Who's cooking?" she asked suspiciously. Sam rolled his eyes, shooting her an amused look.
"Dean. Are you ever going to let me live down that burnt chicken?"
"No," she said primly. "It was horrid."
"It was an accident," he huffed half-heartedly. "Crowley, what about you?"
Fergus stopped pacing, but before he could respond, a body came crashing through the window. Rowena shot to her feet and almost fell when Sam yanked her behind him. Dean and Castiel came rushing into the room with weapons drawn. Fergus didn't move, raising an eyebrow as the man pulled himself off the floor.
"Oh, please don't help me up," the man sarcastically exclaimed. "Not like I just come flying through warding meant to keep an angel out or anything."
"Balthazar?" Castiel demanded.
"Castiel, pleasure to see you again," Balthazar said as he dusted off his coat. "I see you finally settled down with your Winchester."
"How did you get through the wards?" Fergus asked flatly. Balthazar turned toward him with a frown.
"Remember not to attack the messenger," Balthazar warned. "She didn't exactly give me a choice."
"No offense, but who the hell are you?" Sam demanded. "This place is warded to Hell and back. You shouldn't be able to get in."
"A messenger," Balthazar huffed. "Castiel, call off your family. I'm not out to piss off our dear older sister."
"Sam, let's hear him out," Castiel sighed. "If you don't like what he says, shoot him anyway."
"Balthazar," Fergus growled. "Explain before I sic a hellhound on you."
The angel sighed, patting down his jacket. "You're all shite at being welcoming," he huffed. "You're gonna need that hellhound, though."
"Balthazar-!" Fergus fell silent when the angel pulled out a bronze blade.
"She told me to come to you in an hour, ordered me through the Host actually," Balthazar whined, his eyes shining with annoyance. "It's only been about 15 minutes, and it only took that long because of these bloody wards."
Fergus snatched the blade from Balthazar, his eyes bleeding red. "I'm going to lock her in a damn cell," he snarled. "Maybe that will finally deal with her stupid heroic tendencies!"
"Again, just the messenger," Balthazar pointed out. "She said you'd have a way to find her and that hunter pretending to be a Valerius."
Rowena wasn't sure if high blood pressure could affect demons, but if it could, her son was headed straight toward a heart attack.
"So much for breakfast," Dean sighed, worry clinging to his voice. "What do you need from us? I think Cas still has a feather or two from Azrial. Hopefully Bobby isn't far from her."
"No need," Fergus said. He stormed toward the door, yanking one of Bobby's hats off the hook before opening the front door. "I have a better method than a tracking spell."
"And what might that be?" Rowena asked, stepping out from behind Sam now that any potential danger had passed. "A spell would get us an accurate location."
Fergus shot her a blood thirsty smile, and Rowena suppressed a shiver. "It won't get us the exact room they are being kept in, this will."
"Crowley," Castiel cut in. "Allow me to take Dean out of the room first."
Fergus froze, glancing toward Dean who looked confused. "Smart move, feathers."
Rowena raised an eyebrow at the understanding in her son's voice as Castiel pushed Dean toward the stairs. She could hear the angel muttering that he'd explain later, but that didn't seem to ease Dean's annoyance. Fergus waited several moments before bringing his fingers to his lips and whistling. Sam froze next to her, and Rowena looked up at him.
"What's going on?" she quietly asked him.
"Crowley has several hellhounds under his command," he muttered. "To my understanding, he actually breeds them. Nothing is a better tracker than a hellhound, believe me."
Rowena glanced toward the door, wondering if she'd even be able to see the beast when it arrived. A loud howl vibrated through the house, sucking the morning warmth from the air. Two others joined it, and Rowena stepped closer to Sam. The porch creaked loudly, and Rowena inhaled sharply as a massive paw stepped into the living room. The creature was massive, standing taller than Fergus and having to duck its head into the doorway. Despite its massive size, it stepped carefully, barely making a sound beyond its weight, causing the floorboards to creak.
Fergus held out the hat he'd grabbed, and the hound sniffed around on it. When he offered the bronze blade, the hound let out a low whine of discomfort.
"Don't start," Fergus growled. "Once you find her, you can harass her for attention."
The hound gave a sharp bark that reverberated through the house before carefully making its way outside again. Sam exhaled, slowly relaxing now that the hound was out of the room.
"Balthazar, you're coming with me," Fergus ordered.
"Of course I am," the angel huffed. "I'm leaving as soon as this is sorted."
"I don't care. I want them home now."
No one objected to that, and Rowena watched Fergus storm outside. Some part of her wanted to offer assistance; after all, she respected Bobby and Azrial, but she knew it wouldn't be accepted. That bugged her more than it would have a few weeks ago, and she didn't want to dwell on why.
Line Break
Unknown Location: July 16, 2010
Bobby slowly came too with a splitting headache. His eyes burned, and he had to blink several times before his vision returned. He went to stand, grunting when metal wire cut into his arms.
"Finally awake?" The annoyed question was coupled with a bright light turning on. The sudden light made his eyes water, but the sound of chains moving forced him to focus. A man was sitting in a chair across from him, frowning heavily enough to crease his brow.
"Who the hell are you?" Bobby snarled, trying to focus his breathing. It wouldn't do any good to freak out when he didn't know the full situation.
"I could ask you the same thing," the man said bluntly. "My name is Argan."
Bobby glared at the man. "Valerius, but I'm sure you knew that."
Argan raised his eyebrow, then his eyes flickered black. "Valerius? No. You're nothing more than a hick hunter from North Dakota."
Bobby froze, his jaw falling slightly. Argan stood up, pulling a chain and causing clanking to fill the room. Bobby glanced around, quickly realizing they were in an abandoned meat factory.
"Now this bitch I would believe is a Valerius, or at least one of their sluts." Argan gave a final yank of the chain, and a meat hook slid into view. Bobby felt his stomach churn when he saw Azrial chained to it by her arms. They'd twisted her wrists at a painful angle, and she was hanging a good half foot from the floor. Her head hung to the side, and her throat was badly burned with a thin silver collar around it. The once pristine fabric of her stola was matted with blood and ash, torn to shreds in several places. There was fresh blood trailing down her legs, hitting the floor with a maddening drip drip drip that filled the heavy silence.
Argan seemed to gauge his reaction, and Bobby swallowed the rant that was burning in his throat. "I'm going to kill you," Bobby promised.
"Are you?" the demon asked, circling Azrial curiously. "I think working together would be much more beneficial."
"And why the hell would I do that?"
Argan sighed, grabbing something from out of sight. "Do you know how many of my soldiers she killed?"
"Knowing her, all of them," Bobby growled. "Guess she's losing her touch cause your ugly ass is still alive."
"Three. Three of a six demon team. We aren't weak, we did snag you out from under a death god's nose after all." Argan stepped back into view, gesturing toward him with the hilt of a whip. "She burned them to death."
"Tragic. Remind me to buy her roses." Bobby didn't bother to hide his fury anymore. The demon obviously knew him, and there was no damn point in pretending anymore.
"I want, no I need, information. If I go back to Lucifer without it, I'm dead."
"Cry me a river," Bobby snarled.
"You're going to give it to me," Argan said.
"What gives you that idea?"
The crack reached his ears before he realized what happened. Azrial's eyes shot open, and it looked like she cried out in pain as the flaming whip slammed against her legs. The only sound from her was a choked gurgle that emphasized the damage done to her throat. The fire burned the stola fabric for several seconds before going out.
"Because if you don't, I'm going to slowly burn her to death," Argan snarled. "I'd think you'd be eager to avoid another woman dying in front of you, considering what happened to your wife."
Azrial let out a pained whine, drawing Argan's gaze. Bobby stared at the demon, trying to process what he'd just said.
"What are you on about?" Bobby asked breathlessly. His mind was racing toward a sickening conclusion, leaving his body shaking with barely restrained rage.
"Really?" Argan asked, focusing on Azrial. The archangel was struggling to get free, but something was obviously stopping her, or at least slowing her down. "You haven't figured out who I am? That's rather insulting."
Argan slammed the whip into Azrial's stomach, making her dry heave. Her chin fell to her chest as she struggled to breathe.
"And don't think I can't smell the sulfur on this bitch!" Argan snarled, yanking Azrial's hair back. "Why don't you tell him who I am, whore?"
Azrial met his gaze, and the panic in her eyes scared the hell out of him. She moved her lips, trying to form words with no luck. She slowly mouthed a name, and Bobby's heart sank.
Alastair.
This was one of the demons who'd tortured her under Alastair's orders. Who'd probably tortured Dean.
Argan dropped Azrial's hair, letting her hang limp from the hook again. "Fucking useless," the demon muttered. "Let me spell it out for you," Argan's black eyes bore into him. "Robert fucking Singer, I'm the demon who killed your worthless wife."
Bobby swallowed the bile creeping up his throat. His rage had gone straight to a calm, deadly focus. He was going to gut this asshole like a pig before the night was out. He didn't care how anymore. All he cared about was getting Azrial safe and then slowly tearing this piece of shit to pieces until he begged for death.
"Seems I finally have your attention," the demon mocked.
"You're a dead man walking," Bobby whispered.
"We'll see about that," Argan turned back toward Azrial and grabbed her jaw. "It's almost a shame to ruin such a pretty face."
There was a crash, and Argan let go of Azrial with a frown. "When I get back, I want all the information you have on the Valerius family, and any you have on the Grand Coven. If you still refuse to speak…" Argan turned toward him with a smirk. "I learned from Alastair how to break an angel. Your new wife will fare just as well as the first."
The demon walked out of sight, and the sound of a door slamming shut had Bobby focusing on Azrial.
"Talk to me, princess. How badly are you hurt?"
Her eyes opened again at his words, and she mouthed badly.
Bobby frowned, trying to think of a plan. "Is something suppressing your power?"
She nodded slightly and tilted her neck, making the collar catch in the light.
"Can you overpower it?" A nod. "Without blowing your cover?"
Azrial hesitated, but then slowly shook her head. Bobby cursed, trying to think quickly. An idea suddenly hit him, and he exhaled sharply. It was crazy, but if they could pull it off, it may work.
"Can you leave your vessel?" he demanded. Azrial looked startled at the question, but seemed to consider it. She shut her eyes, and several long seconds passed before she slowly nodded.
"Princess, listen to me. You need to jump ship." Her eyes widened, and she shook her head. "Listen to me!"
His harsh tone made her freeze, and Bobby felt bad, but he needed her to focus. "We've got one shot at this before that bastard comes back. Leave your vessel and come into me."
Azrial stared at him before slowly mouthing; are you sure?
"Yes. Now hurry, before he comes back!"
She took a deep breath, shutting her eyes. Bobby watched, waiting for some big event.
Robert Singer, a melodic voice whispered in his mind, would you allow me to use you as a vessel? It took him several precious seconds to comprehend that the voice that sounded more like music than human speech was Azrial.
"Yes."
The chain holding Azrial up creaked as her body fell completely limp and a bright light lit up the room. He could see the outline of the room through his eyelids before the light died down. His head stopped throbbing, and his body didn't feel sore anymore. He blinked his eyes slowly, glancing up to see that it had blown the light bulb out. It wasn't affecting his sight, though. Everything was as clear as it would be with the lights on.
Bobby?
He exhaled sharply, realizing the plan had worked. A memory flashed in front of his eyes and he could smell rotting flesh as if it were right in front of him. Then there was screaming. High-pitched, desperate screams begging someone to stop.
Bobby! Focus, please!
Azrial's voice matched the desperation of the screams echoing in his head. He hadn't realized he broke free from the chair until his hands were covering his ears, trying to drown out the screaming. Flashes of pain and fear hit him, then there was the disgust.
Disgust at weakness. Disgust at failing. Disgust at herself.
Bobby gasped, trying to understand what was going on. It was like he was experiencing Azrial's memories first hand, but these weren't recent memories. He wasn't sure how he knew, but these memories were older and their wounds much deeper.
Suddenly, the noise died, and it felt like someone was hugging him from behind. He opened his eyes slowly, staring at the black feathers blocking his face.
I'm sorry, I didn't know what else to do.
Azrial sounded exhausted, and Bobby took a deep breath. "What was that?"
Azrial didn't respond right away, the wings wrapped around him fluffing in irritation. He could hear his shirt tearing more, but didn't give a damn.
Memories. I should have had more control. I'm sorry.
"Those are things he did to you?" Bobby growled. His anger boiled under his skin, and Azrial's grace seemed to respond to it. He felt like he could bring down a building if wanted to, but he didn't want the power to get to his head. It wasn't even his power.
Yes.
Bobby heard another light further down the room explode at the single whispered word. He was growling low in his throat, wondering if this is how Crowley had felt when he'd seen Azrial bleeding out on the snow. He heard the door open again and stood up, causing the wings to relax against his back.
Take him by surprise. You can't let him escape.
Azrial's nervous voice fanned his anger more. He wouldn't let this bastard escape, not after everything he'd done. Argan stepped into his line of sight, and the demon glanced at the light in surprise before looking toward Azrial's vessel. Bobby launched at the demon while his back was turned, slamming Argan into the ground. The demon struggled under him, but as far as strength went, Argan was nowhere near as powerful as Azrial, even with how exhausted she was.
"I told you I'd kill you," Bobby snarled, pinning the demon by his throat.
"Fuck you," Argan choked out, slamming a fist into his chest. It had no effect, and Argan continued to struggle to push him off. Bobby flared Azrial's wings, causing the demon to still be under his hand.
"Damn it, I should have known you lied about your identity back then," the demon snarled. "Hello, god spear."
Azrial's power fluctuated, and Bobby could practically feel her sinking away from the surface of his thoughts. Bobby narrowed his eyes at the demon, dragging the bastard up as he got to his feet.
"Tell me, is there still a human in there?" Bobby asked.
No, he's alone.
"Of course there is," Argan choked out. "I'm not dumb."
"Good to know you're still a liar," Bobby said. "I'm going to make you regret ever crossing my path."
Be careful, my hunter. Your body is still human, and I'm too tired to stop you from pulling on my power.
Azrial's gentle warning made Bobby hesitate. Argan laughed, looking up at him in amusement. "You didn't have the balls to kill me back then, and you don't have them now."
Bobby, he's goading you.
"Even now, you're letting a demon's slut control your behavior," the demon laughed. "I can tell she's talking to you, trying to convince you to make this quick."
Bobby's grip tightened around Argan's throat, and he could see the flesh burn. He wanted the bastard to suffer how Karen had suffered. How Azrial had suffered. Argan began choking, and Bobby couldn't deny the pleasure he felt at the sight.
Bobby, please. He's not worth it.
Azrial's voice was becoming panicked, but Bobby ignored her. He felt her grace curling around his hand and almost dropped Argan when the demon let out an agonized scream. Bobby glanced down at his hand, surprised to see long, shadowy claws digging into Argan's throat.
Bobby, you need to stop!
Azrial was begging now, but he couldn't let go of Argan. The pain painted across the demon's face was practically euphoric, and all he could think of was Karen. Of having to bury her broken body in an unmarked grave to avoid the cops finding her. She'd deserved the world, and this bastard had taken that away. Then he remembered Azrial's begging, her screaming and crying as she bargained with Argan to let her go.
The shadowy claws extended out the side of the demon's neck, causing the bastard to choke up black sludge. His hand was burning, but he didn't give a damn. It finally felt like he was getting some justice for his wife, and he wasn't letting that go without a fight. He could hear Azrial calling to him, but it sounded like she was being drowned out by static noise.
A sharp bark broke his concentration, and Bobby shot a glance toward the door to see a massive fucking dog standing there with its head tilted. Argan began struggling, but to Bobby's surprise, the demon was trying to use him as a shield. He looked back at the black dog who was waiting patiently in the doorway.
Crowley's here. Thank fuck Balthazar delivered my message.
Azrial sounded close to tears, almost delirious in her exhaustion. The dog, a hellhound, he realized mutely, whined softly. Bobby wasn't sure what the massive dog was waiting for, but it was definitely fixated on them.
"Robert, that's enough."
The hellhound ducked fully into the room, growling at Argan as he tried to get away from Bobby. Crowley stepped into the room, looking around for a moment. Bobby didn't miss the fury in his red eyes when he saw Azrial's vessel.
"I'm going to kill him," he told Crowley. "He's my damn kill. Look what he did to Azrial, and what he did to my wife!"
Crowley looked back to him, his red eyes filled with unending understanding. "So he's the one who killed your wife? I'd hoped to find him first," Crowley admitted. "I wanted to give him to you once all this shite was over."
Crowley's comment made Bobby's hand shake. Why wasn't the demon trying to reason with him, to make him drop Argan and walk away? Azrial had fallen silent, and Bobby wasn't sure if she'd finally given into her exhaustion, or simply hoped Crowley would have better luck than her.
"Let go of him, pet," Crowley said. "I promise you, what I have planned will be perfectly horrible."
"I want him dead," Bobby snarled, his hand shaking. "I want to fucking rip him apart!"
"I know," Crowley soothed. "But you're a good man. A far better man than I am. I promise you he won't be leaving this room alive."
Bobby shut his eyes, trying to calm down. His hand felt like it was on fucking fire and it was making it hard to focus. The hellhound whined again, its dark red eyes boring into him. A flash of memory hit him, and he exhaled sharply.
"A loyal hellhound," he muttered. "That's the hellhound that found her?"
Crowley looked surprised at his question, but slowly nodded. "Yes, and he's dying to rip that bastard apart. You're stealing my dog's kill."
Bobby felt an uncomfortable laugh rip from his throat and glanced down at Argan. The demon was glancing between him and the hellhound, shaking his head. Bobby could practically taste the fear the bastard felt, and realized Argan was more afraid of the hellhound than him.
"Well, hunters don't steal another's kill," Bobby said gruffly. "Eat up."
He flung Argan in front of the hellhound, who didn't even hesitate to slam a paw into the demon's chest. Bobby couldn't stomach watching the massive dog tear the screaming demon apart, but he wouldn't deny the pleasure he felt when the screams died down. Crowley slowly approached him, gesturing to his hand.
"Call back her grace, quickly. You're burning yourself up."
Bobby blinked, looking down at the hand that still had shadowy black claws. His fingers looked a touch blackened, and he realized with a start he'd burned off several layers of skin. It should hurt a hell of a lot more than it did, but maybe he was just in shock. The claws vanished, and he tried to flex his fingers. They still moved, so he didn't burn away anything too important.
"You should be able to heal yourself," Crowley said. "How are you?"
That question broke something. Maybe the adrenaline had finally worn off, or maybe exhaustion had just caught up with him, but Bobby just shook his head. Crowley frowned, stepping into his arms. Bobby wrapped his arms around Crowley, burying his face in the demon's shoulder. His body was shaking, and all he wanted was to sleep.
"I want to go home," he muttered into Crowley's shoulder.
"I can take you," Crowley said. "Let me drag Balthazar in here to help with Azrial's vessel."
"Tell him to be careful. There's warding on that collar, and I'm not sure what it would do if touched by an angel."
"I will, but for now, we need to get you to bed. Both of you are barely functional."
Bobby didn't have the energy to argue, and allowed Crowley to guide him out of the warehouse. The hellhound followed loyally behind them, and Bobby never thought he'd find that comforting.
The next update is Saturday, May 21, 2022