Chapter Twenty-Three
Homebound
Bobby's House: July 16, 2010 - Early Evening
Castiel watched as Dean washed the same dish for a fifth time, wishing there was something he could say to break the worried tension hanging over the house. Waiting for news was never Sam and Dean's strong suit, and Castiel was aware enough to admit it wasn't his either. The front door slamming open had Dean shooting toward the living room, only to freeze in the doorway. Castiel rushed after him, stumbling to a stop as Crowley helped Bobby through the door and Balthazar carried Azrial's empty vessel. It took him a moment to realize where Azrial was, and he inhaled sharply as his eyes landed on Bobby.
"What the hell happened?" Dean demanded, moving forward to help Crowley walk Bobby to the couch. The man didn't seem aware of everything going on, but tried to answer Dean.
"There was an attack at the auction. We split up. Azrial got caught, and so did I."
Bobby sat on the couch, and Balthazar cleared his throat. "Does anyone want to take this?"
Castiel gingerly took his sister's vessel, frowning at the amount of damage done to it. His eyes zeroed in on the collar. "Is this Enochian warding?"
"Best Crowley and I can figure," Balthazar sighed. "It makes sense, considering they were after me, and I didn't hesitate to threaten them most days."
"Wait, if they were after you, how did they get Azrial?" Sam asked as he approached Bobby with a bottle of painkillers and some water. Bobby snatched the bottle, dumping out some pills and knocking them back with the water. Castiel set Azrial's vessel in the armchair before turning back to the conversation.
"She insisted on saving me," Balthazar huffed. "She also decided using the Morningstar Whip was a wonderful use of her time."
Castiel choked slightly, shooting Balthazar a disbelieving look. "She's horrible with ranged weapons. I doubt a whip would go much better!"
"Which is why the warehouse is now cinders," Balthazar said dryly. "Thankfully, I didn't lose much stock."
"Considering you left with your life, I wouldn't complain." Crowley's snarled statement made Balthazar raise his hands.
"Not complaining, mate. Argan was a piece of work and I'm happy to see the end of him."
Crowley rolled his eyes, gently taking Bobby's chin in his hand. "Do you need sleep?"
"Yes," Bobby groaned, blinking slowly. "Feels like I'm moving through sludge."
"Can you heal your hand yet?"
Crowley's question drew Castiel's gaze to Bobby's hand. He winced at the charred flesh and broached the uncomfortable subject of where Azrial was.
"So, you're her vessel?" His question caused every set of eyes to turn toward Bobby, and Crowley shot him a dirty look.
"Is now the time, feathers?" the demon demanded.
"Yes," he said firmly. "If they are both hurt, Azrial won't be able to heal Bobby's injuries. If he puts off healing his hand, there is no guarantee it will work like normal, even with the aid of angel grace."
"I think I can," Bobby said. "But she ain't responding. It's like I'm alone in here, despite knowing otherwise."
Castiel shot Balthazar a concerned look, and the angel frowned. "That's not good," Balthazar said flatly.
"What do you mean not good?" Dean demanded.
"Did I stutter?" Balthazar snapped. "Not. Good. As in, that should never be the case."
"You don't need to come in here with an attitude!" Dean snapped.
"And you don't need to-"
Bobby cut Balthazar's response off, "Knock it off!" Everyone looked at the hunter, who was now on his feet. Castiel inhaled sharply, stepping back when he noticed the man's eyes were silver.
"Bobby?" Sam tentatively asked. "Are you okay?"
The man groaned, shutting his eyes and taking a deep breath. "I don't know," he muttered. "She has way too much power."
"Let me see your hand," Balthazar prompted. "I didn't hang around Gabriel all those centuries without picking up some of his tricks."
It was a testament to how exhausted Bobby was that he simply did what Balthazar asked. Castiel watched his brother look over the wound skeptically before glancing at Bobby.
"Did you try to use her true form?" Balthazar asked in disbelief. "How the hell are you even in one piece?"
"Less questions, more healing," Bobby tiredly ordered. "I have no idea what happened, and I'm about five seconds from blacking out. On that note, someone needs to go tell Rowen what's going on."
"Already done," Crowley said. "He's dealing with transferring the weapons from Balthazar's people and then heading back to the states."
Bobby grunted, but otherwise remained silent as Balthazar healed his hand. Castiel watched his brother work with a sharp eye, but it became clear the other angel wasn't trying to do anything underhanded. Rowena slowly approached Sam's side, glancing at Azrial.
"Should we try to remove the collar?"
Crowley's ire met Rowena's question. "Don't touch it!" he snarled. "It's a slave collar. If we aren't careful, it won't come off at all."
"Those things have never been used on an archangel," Balthazar pointed out. "How do we know you'll be able to get it off?"
"We don't," Crowley snapped. "But we can only deal with one bloody problem at a time!"
The room was silent for several seconds after Crowley's outburst. Balthazar stepped away from Bobby, who flexed his hand before nodding in approval.
"Thanks, I'm gonna…go lay down."
Bobby stumbled slightly as he made his way to the stairs, but before anyone could offer to help the man Crowley was at his side.
"One step at a time," the demon muttered. "She takes a lot out of a man ."
Bobby snorted, and Castiel could see a faint smile on the hunter's lips at the joke. He watched Crowley help the man upstairs, an uncomfortable feeling settling in his chest. Part of him wanted to stop the demon, but the larger part knew Bobby wouldn't let him. The conflict burned under his skin, and he glanced at Dean to see if he was experiencing the same issue. Dean nodded slightly, his shoulders tense while he turned to the others.
"You heard the man, no touching the comatose archangel vessel. Balthazar, you staying for dinner?"
Balthazar looked surprised at the offer, glancing around the house in thought. "I need some rest," he admitted. "Pushing through the wards earlier and then coming back took more energy than I expected."
Dean nodded absentmindedly. "Fine, just don't get too comfortable. As soon as Bobby's back on his feet, he's gonna start bitching about not being a hotel." Dean walked toward the kitchen, and Castiel followed , trusting Rowena and Sam to keep an eye on Balthazar. Right now, he needed to comfort Dean.
Line Break
Crowley winced as his shoulder hit the doorjamb as he helped Robert toward his bed. He was drenched in sweat, the dirty dress shirt sticking to his skin. Crowley steadied the man as he sat on the edge of the bed, holding his shoulder to keep Robert sitting up.
"Can you undress? You're overheating, which is ironic considering how bloody cold Azrial is."
"Can barely move," Robert grunted. "Just get these damn clothes off."
"Are you sure?" Crowley asked skeptically.
"Just hurry ."
Crowley rolled his eyes at Robert's demand, wondering if the man realized he was channeling some of Azrial's attitude and tone. As soon as he got the half destroyed shirt off, Robert fell back on to the bed with a relieved sigh.
"So damn hot," Robert sighed.
"I'm concerned you may have a fever. Azrial is rather cold and if she's running warm…" Crowley trailed off, not wanting to go down the rabbit hole. Robert hummed, pulling himself up so he could kick off his shoes.
"You stay'in?" The gruff question surprised Crowley, and he raised an eyebrow.
"Are you asking me to stay?"
"I am," Robert muttered. "I saw way too much shit tonight."
Crowley inhaled sharply. "I see. Then yes, I'll stay with you both."
"Thanks, from both of us."
"Is she talking to you?" His question hung in the air as Robert struggled to his feet. He reached out to steady the man, who struggled to undo his pants.
"No, just…" Robert sighed. "I can feel her. Her feelings. I think she's asleep?"
Crowley sighed, gently batting the man's hands away from the pants. "Stop, you're going to end up damaging something down there if you keep this up."
"Sorry, I hate feeling this weak."
"So does she," Crowley said softly. "It's probably worse since you both feel that way."
It took more effort than it should, but he finally freed Robert from the pants. The man practically collapsed into bed, not giving a damn about being in just his boxers. Crowley snorted, but smiled slightly. This wasn't how he'd expected his first time in the hunter's bed to go, but he should have guessed it would have been something like this.
"Budge over," Crowley ordered. "I'm not sleeping on the edge of the bed."
Robert grunted, but rolled over on his side. Crowley discarded his jacket and shirt, laying down next to the hunter. With a lazy wave of his hand, he heard the door lock, guaranteeing they wouldn't be disturbed.
"She was scared," Robert muttered as he rolled to face him. Crowley wasn't sure how to respond, so gently rubbed the hunter's shoulders.
"Rest. We can talk once you're both awake."
Robert hummed, nuzzling into his neck. A moment later the man's breathing evened out. He felt something tugging at his soul, and glanced down at Robert with a sigh.
"Damnit angel, you're going to get me shot."
He'd noticed right away that Argan had sliced clean through Bobby's anti-possession tattoo. That meant they'd tried to possess the man and it failed. Crowley knew damn well it had something to do with the ring on Robert's finger that radiated Azrial's grace. He doubted any demon could enter the man because it would require co-existing with her grace. To his knowledge, he was the only demon to try something that stupid. There was a sharp tug on his soul, and he hissed in annoyance.
"Fine," he snarled. "But I'm blaming you when he screams at me." Somehow, he didn't think that would stop Robert from shooting him.
The next update is Saturday, May 28, 2022