Previously: The Winchester brothers reconciled and teamed up again, along with Castiel. Together, the trio set out on the trail of the Colt, with no success. While searching for demons, Castiel is approached by an Angel, Inias, who asks him to guide hundreds of Angels who want to lead a revolution in Heaven. Castiel accepts, and parts ways with Sam and Dean to meet the Angels.
This chapter takes place somewhere between season 5 episode 4 and episode 8.
oOo
Moonlight whispers
You should stay away from them.
That's what Zedekiel told me when I asked for advice. All you'll get by following them in their delusions of revolution, he said, is to be dragged down in their fall. And it'll be a hard fall.
Yet here I am, against his advice, at the meeting place on Mount Golgotha, also known as Mount Calvary in memory of Camael's ordeal. Maybe it's a mistake for me to be here. And perhaps I would have followed Zedekiel's advice and settled for living and dying like a Human once my Grace drains away, had Humanity not been threatened with extinction, were Sam and Dean not victims of Fate. I would have lived a few years, maybe even a few decades with Dean, getting to know his ways and customs, until my organic body faltered and sent me into eternal oblivion.
Yes, I could have been content with that, but Heaven and Hell leave me no choice but to fight to save Dean, whatever the cost. What's the point of surviving if I can't protect him? Joining Inias' group is likely to draw even more attention to myself and stir up Raphael's ire, but it's a rare opportunity, a solid alternative should the Colt strategy fail.
I breathe in the night air, gazing up at the starry sky. A gust of wind rushes into my trench coat, deploying it behind me and plastering my shirt to my chest.
This is the exact place where, before he died on the cross after hours of agony, Camael looked up to the sky with tears in his eyes, asking God why He had forsaken him. I've stopped asking that question. My Father never answered my prayers, and I don't even know if it was He or Lucifer who brought me back to life. I'm tired of praying and devoting myself to someone for whom I'm insignificant, or who may not even exist. Now Dean is very real and alive, and nothing, not Heaven nor Hell, can alter my devotion to him. He proved me that I can fight Fate instead of yielding like I always have.
And for him, I'll win. No matter what it takes.
Dawn is starting to make the stars pale in the distance, casting a range of pinkish colors over this landscape of rocks and tufts of dry grass. The place isn't as lonely as I'd expected: there are about twenty persons walking on the arid ground a few dozen kilometers away, probably pilgrims.
A hushed clap of wings and a shift of air signal an Angel's landing behind me.
"Over the last two thousand years, I've often wondered…"
I don't need to turn around to identify Baradiel. His aura is familiar, and although deformed by his vessel's vocal cords, the voice intonations are the same.
"… what would've happened had I not notified Anna of Uriel's intention to rebel."
I keep my arms limp at my sides and my eyes riveted on the rising sun, which grows brighter on the horizon with every passing second. All my other senses are focused on my former soldier's presence behind me. The arid earth and dry blades of grass crunch under his feet as he walks closer, until I feel the soft touch of his feathers on my elbow.
"The Archangels would have killed every last one of you."
My voice sounds hoarse. I haven't had a chance to talk with Baradiel since I came back to life, and I didn't expect him to be one of the Angels ready to start an insurrection in Heaven. But come to think of it, he confided to me when I was still his superior, that he was once tempted to follow Lucifer. He gave in to Uriel's conversion, and he also broke protocol by helping me capture Alastair. Has he always concealed an urge to disobey beneath his stoic air?
"That's what I thought at the time," he says pensively. "But looking back, I can't help thinking that we'd have had our chances, if only we'd been a bit more prepared. Maybe we really could have saved Camael and taken control."
I take my eyes off the bright disk of light rising into the blue sky and face my former soldier.
"Is that why you joined Inias? Do you think we can stop the Apocalypse and defeat the Archangels?"
His vessel is the same man with long hair gathered in a high bun, and a shadow of a smile tugs at his lips as he meets my gaze.
"I guess we won't know for sure until we try."
A flap of wings interrupts our conversation, and I see an Angel I've never seen before. He promptly folds his wings behind his back, eyes on me, staring briefly before shifting his attention to Baradiel.
"The others aren't here yet? I can't believe I went to all the trouble to come up with a convincing excuse to get out of my office when everyone else is late..."
"They've been held up, but should be here soon," Baradiel says. "Castiel, I don't think you've met Oyub yet, he works in Administration. Oyub, you know Castiel…"
"Well, of course, he's renowned for his live execution and resurrection. THE most wanted rebel in Heaven after Lucifer."
Like Zachariah's, Oyub's vessel barely has hair, though he looks younger. He scans me unblinkingly, his gaze sharp under drooping eyelids.
"By the way, don't you think your last words - Because I'm free - before Raphael nuked you were a bit stupid?"
I try to contain my confusion and merely squint.
"Why?"
"Sacrificing your life to accomplish your original mission isn't exactly what I'd call being free. In a way, by defending Humanity against new orders, you're just keeping on obeying former orders. Lucifer, Anael, Siosp, even Zachariah in his time, all the Angels who rebelled only did so, ultimately, out of duty to a prior mission. Is it truly rebellion, or simply failure to adjust to new instructions?"
"So you believe us unable to be free and to rebel? Your very presence here, rebelling to save Humanity, proves otherwise."
Oyub scoffs.
"Oh, no no no, I'm going to stop you right there. I'm not here to save this overrated species. I don't care what happens to them. All I want is to get rid of this bunch of incompetents and opportunists from the Council, and for the Administration to finally be managed properly, without the constant threat of rehabilitation. I just want to work in decent conditions. I've tried to complain the normal way, but the big brass just won't listen. I'm the patient kind, but at some point it's time to stop messing with us."
Baradiel's wings lazily stretch as he gazes at the sunrise.
"You'll come to realize, Castiel, that our brothers and sisters join us for many different reasons. The ones who want to save Humanity like you do are quite rare."
Come to think of it, Baradiel never said he wants to save Humanity either. Then what could possibly drive him to disobey and stop the Apocalypse?
Before I get a chance to ask, two Angels land in front of us, smoothing their wind-ruffled feathers. Inias, and…
"Ophaniel?"
I couldn't hide the surprise in my voice.
"Hello, Castiel. I'm glad you came."
It really is her, calmly staring at me while a gust of dry air slaps her flower-patterned dress over her vessel's body. Ophaniel, Commander of the Mammal Division, who used to be Hester and Virgil's superior.
"Why would a Council member want to overthrow it and join an insurrection in Heaven?"
Ophaniel tilts her head to the side, like the answer is obvious.
"Precisely because I know the Council enough to see that nothing will change while it's in power. I'm the one who started this group and organized this meeting."
"Inias told me…" I glance hesitantly at Inias, and he nudges me encouragingly with his wing. "… that you needed me to guide you. What exactly do you need me for? You seem to be handling everything perfectly, Ophaniel."
Oyub snorts, turning to Ophaniel.
"Yeah, remind us why we need him at all?"
This time, Inias answers, narrowing his eyes defensively.
"Because the whole idea originally was Castiel's. When Anpiel got ratted out and thrown into rehabilitation for her efforts to convince our brothers and sisters to raise an army and defeat the Council for Castiel, Ophaniel got wind of it and decided to take action."
"What Inias is saying," Ophaniel says calmly, "is that you're a unifying symbol, Castiel. Everyone in Heaven knows that you defied Fate, the Council and the Archangels, and that God resurrected you. With you as our leader, we'll have greater chances of uniting many Angels to our cause than if I, as a member of the Council, or any of us, were to call for rebellion."
"I understand."
What I also understand is that I'll be the scapegoat if we fail. But I'm okay with that. I've got nothing left to lose anyway.
"How many more are we waiting for before we start?"
"We're all here," Inias replies. "There are already hundreds of Angels and Cherubs supporting our cause, but it was too dangerous to gather as a large group. You have no idea how closely monitored Heaven has become since you came back to life, Castiel. It's extremely hard to sneak out and come down to Earth without all kinds of permits and paperwork."
"The Council fears that some Angels might want to follow in your footsteps," Ophaniel nods. "Heaven is like a bomb about to explode right now. And we'll be igniting it, tomorrow."
It looks like they didn't wait for me to come up with a strategy. How long had they been looking for me to be the symbol and voice of their action?
I square my shoulders, amplifying my aura to show my commitment.
"I'm listening. What's the plan?"
oOo
Moonlight filters through the partly open curtains, tracing a silvery line across the room, slivering over the sheets' creases and the shapes of the two lying bodies. Sam is nestled under the blanket, revealing only his deployed hair on the pillow, and a steady snore rises with his every breath. As for Dean, like often, he sleeps over the sheets, fully clothed, with his jacket laid across his chest.
I was hoping I could bid Dean farewell before leaving on this insane, almost suicidal mission, but I should have known that he and his brother would be asleep at this hour, since it's night in this part of the world.
Maybe I should wake them up, but Dean told me time and time again that sleep is important for Humans and shouldn't be disturbed. And is it really necessary for them to know where I am for the next few days or weeks? The information would be of no use to them, after all, they wouldn't be able to join me in Heaven or help me out if they wanted to. And I'd rather not give Dean any false hope about this potential Angel uprising. There's no guarantee that our action and my message will be welcomed by our brothers and sisters. Perhaps we'll all be captured and executed to set an example.
This could be the last time I ever see Dean.
I fold my wings behind my back and quietly step to his bed. His mouth is parted, revealing the wet inside of his lips, and his eyelashes flutter, eyeballs twitching behind his eyelids.
He's dreaming. It's tempting to dive into his mind and into his dream, as he's allowed me to do, but I don't have the time. Mission departure time is imminent.
It's strange. I can't see his soul when his eyes are closed, yet his sleeping face somehow has a mesmerizing effect on me. His features are relaxed, softer. I have never quite grasped the notion of physical beauty in Humans, but I find myself entranced by the texture of his skin, the pale freckles dotting his face and the shape of his lips. And for the first time in my life, I feel before a living creature the same awestruck fascination that inspired in me some of the most magnificent landscapes I have seen.
Having rebuilt this body cell by cell from bones coated with shreds of putrefied flesh will forever be my greatest achievement.
I extend my fingers and reach out to touch Dean's cheek, gently tracing the skin down to the jaw line. The sensation is both soft and prickly, because of the shaved hairs starting to grow back. His neck is radiating warmth, the jugular pulsing under my palm as my thumb gently grazes his earlobe.
I wish I could stay here forever, next to him, touching his skin, marveling at his face, listening to his breathing and heartbeat. But it's time for me to go.
When I withdraw my hand, Dean holds his breath and his hand surges like a bird of prey to grab my wrist tightly.
"… Cas?"
His voice is rough, hoarse, and his wide-open eyes peer up into the darkness, scrutinizing my face in the shadows.
"Hello, Dean," I whisper back. "I didn't mean to wake you. My apologies."
I can hear his heartbeat racing. Letting go of my wrist, he sits up on the bed and puts his feet on the floor, the tips of his shoes touching mine. Disregarding his own rules about personal space, he gets up hastily, standing so close to me that I can feel his breath joining mine.
"Dude, where the hell have you been? I tried to call you a hundred times!"
It seems that he whispered the words loudly enough to disturb his brother's sleep - Sam lets out a snore and there is a rustle of sheets as he rolls onto his side, shifting position to sprawl out, one leg sticking out of the bed. Only when the snoring resumes, muffled by the pillow Sam's buried his face in, Dean places his hand on my lower back. He applies pressure, pushing to lead me away from his brother's bed, until we're both close to the window.
"I've just seen all your missed calls, Dean. I had no phone coverage in Jerusalem."
Only then does he remove his hand to properly face me. Moonlight bathes his face in silver. Fragments of his soul shimmer in his eyes, revealing concern and deep frustration. He frowns, furrowing the crease of skin on his forehead.
"Jerusalem? What were you doing there again? Getting more oil?"
"No. I had some urgent matter there that required my presence."
"Some urgent matter," Dean flatly repeats.
He heaves a deep sigh and runs a hand over his face. Then he looks up at me intently, squeezing my shoulder with one hand as he slowly moistens his lips.
"Okay. New rule. When you need to fly off for whatever reason, let me know where you're going and for how long. You give me a heads-up, you don't just disappear without telling me."
Was Dean worried about me?
This is a new and unsettling thought. Not an unpleasant one. And I'd have enjoyed it more had I not been planning to leave immediately, for even longer, with no guarantee of coming back to him.
"This is actually why I'm here," I say, averting my eyes. "I wanted to let you know I'll be away for a few days, maybe a few weeks. Or a few months, if things don't work out as I plan."
Between the half-open curtains, my reflection returns to me a sullen stare, with the hotel parking lot and a few trees outside showing through.
"If I were not to come back... keep searching for the Colt and don't ever try to find me."
"What? Why? Where are you going?"
"Somewhere you can't follow me."
The moon is full in the starless sky. A man, probably hotel staff, is taking out a garbage bag and throwing it into the dumpster near the vending machine.
"Cas…"
The grip on my shoulder tightens, and a second hand slides up the collar of my shirt, pausing for a moment before cupping my cheek. His skin radiates warmth against mine.
"Cas. Look at me."
Resignedly, I allow his hand to turn my face until our eyes meet again. The pale moonlight brightens his green irises and lashes, exposing the unique radiance of his soul. There's a pleading gravity in his eyes.
"I don't give a shit where you wanna go or why. If it's dangerous, just don't go."
His hand slides up to the nape of my neck, gripping it firmly. The touch sends a rush of shivers down my spine, spreading to my wingtips.
I can hear him swallow, and his lips part again, voice dropping to a hoarse whisper.
"Stay here, with me. With us."
I can't let my will falter. Humanity and Dean's survival are at stake.
"I have no choice."
He frowns and his grip on my neck hardens, fingernails digging into my skin.
"That's bull and you know it, Cas. There's always a choice, you still don't get that?"
My wings slump in dismay. There's nothing I'd rather do than stay with Dean, relishing in every one of his smiles and references that I don't understand. But I have to fight in Heaven now, as this is my only chance to save Dean and guarantee the survival of his species, should the Colt's strategy fail. Staying here, no matter how much I want to, would be selfish and only ensure a cruel fate for Dean.
Unable to hold his gaze any longer, I look down to break eye contact, focusing on his lips instead. They're pressed together. Having restored them myself, I know from memory the delicate shape of those rosy lips and each one of their subtle ridges. For a second, the irrational urge to touch them, to check how they feel with my fingertips, surges through me.
I shut my eyes out of frustration and let out a sigh.
"If I only could... I'd rather stay with you for the rest of your life."
I look up to meet his eyes once more and catch a glimpse of obvious turmoil. His breath caught briefly, before he releases it in a shuddering breath that grazes my face.
A sudden, loud snore startles Dean, who breaks eye contact to glance nervously back at his sleeping brother. I seize this second when he loosens his hold on my neck to fly off as fast as I can. Flee, before I no longer find the will in me.
oOo
Had it not been for Oyub's hand holding me back firmly, I'd have staggered and fallen to the ground, having lost my bearings on this erratic flight. Feathers ruffled, I struggle to catch my breath, Grace swirling inside me. It can sense that we're in Heaven, where I've been banished from and no longer belong.
The place is dark, way narrower than I'd expected. Surprisingly, the four walls, floor and ceiling are all covered with hundreds, thousands of Enochian sigils, seals and inscriptions, all glowing and shedding a silvery sheen over the space. Even more surprisingly, I fail to identify any of them, though I pride myself on being a seal specialist.
So this is where Pmox got lost when we came back from Hell? Zachariah mentioned corridors though...
"So this is the Archives." I take a closer look at the inscriptions all around me. "I thought it would be much bigger."
Oyub lets go of my arm, cocking an eyebrow.
"Bigger? Clearly, you've never had to search for information in the Archives... No wonder, the top brass and soldiers never bother to take a look at how things work in the Administration and the Archives."
"Is there another room besides this one? I can't see any way in or out."
With a smirk, he points at one of the seals on the wall.
"That's because you need to know where the portals are and how to unlock them. Each one can lead to a whole different part of the Archives, depending on how you proceed. Luckily for you, I know my way around and the short cuts."
I barely know Oyub, but it's still weird to see him in this new female vessel, with short red hair and a feminine voice. I guess I'll have to refer to him with female pronouns for this mission.
Oyub steps up to the wall, places her forefinger on one of the sigils, which glows brighter on contact, and draws an arc, before sending out a wave of energy. The wall instantly opens like a curtain in front of her, revealing another similarly sized and identical room behind.
The portal closes behind us, and the disquieting feeling that I'm back where I came from seizes me.
"This is the same room," I say, scanning the inscriptions around us. "Are you sure you know what you're doing?"
Oyub turns to face me, crossing her arms under her chest.
"Well, it's the same room, except that it's not. To put it roughly, the Archives are just this one room, but declined endlessly in parallel dimensions. We're simultaneously in Heaven and in the deepest void. The trick to get in and out of here is to use the correct seals in the correct order, like corridors. Any mistake and you'd be lost forever in limbo."
I'm starting to understand. Though more sophisticated, it's the same concept used in the waiting room Zachariah and I built to keep Dean prisoner while Sam killed Lilith and freed Lucifer. The room was simultaneously on Earth and in the void, just like the Archives exist simultaneously in Heaven and nowhere at all. That's why Oyub could get me in, even though I'm exiled and cut off from Heaven.
Genius.
Oyub is already opening the next portal, and I quickly follow suit, wary to be left alone in this labyrinth of layered dimensions. We walk through several portals, always ending up in the same place, but I have no choice but to trust her.
It's a bit bewildering to follow an Angel who emits no aura or presence, and whose wings and true face are hidden from my eyes. Even Anpiel, with her extraordinary ability to control her aura, has never been able to do this.
"How did you manage to mask your aura and hide your identity?"
Oyub glances at me over her slim shoulder. Her face is very symmetrical and she's barely twenty years old. I wonder if Dean would find her sexually attractive, by human beauty standards.
"I have a sister who recently started working in the library and has managed to pry into the forbidden seals books. She taught us this seal that draws directly from the vessel's soul to filter our aura and any personal traits. This is only temporary. Using this seal for too long kills the vessel. This operation's main purpose is not to be recognized. I'm not suicidal and none of us want to be nuked by the Archangels to set an example. That's also why we've all possessed different vessels, so we won't be identified."
She opens a new portal and we walk into the same room again.
"So you're using me as a distraction to direct the Archangels' wrath on me and not on you."
Oyub chuckles softly.
"Ophaniel and Inias chose you as a symbol and headliner to recruit more Angels. But for me and many others, yeah, you are the ideal bait. No offence."
"None taken. If this allows me to bring up an uprising in Heaven against the Council as I intended, I don't care what are my followers' motivations."
"Good for you," she drawls, opening yet another portal. "Here, this is the Archives' exit."
We step out into a bright white corridor, and for a moment I freeze, battle-ready as I come face to face with two unfamiliar Angels. – I quickly pull myself together when I realize that they're our allies with a concealed aura, who have also changed their vessels, which is why I can't recognize them.
"What took you so long?" exclaims one of them, looking relieved. "Baradiel and I were just wondering if we'd have to start without you."
"Hey, it's not my fault!" Oyub scoffs, raising her hands. "Castiel was late to the meeting point and pestered me with questions the whole time I was trying to get us out of the Archives. Hard to get anything done with a chatterbox like him, Inias."
I disregard the criticism and take a look at the three Angels. Oyub, Baradiel and Inias, all three utterly unrecognizable without their usual vessel and aura. I'll be the only one exposed.
"Where is Ophaniel?"
"She couldn't make it," replies Baradiel, sighing. "A Council meeting had been scheduled at the last minute and she had no choice but to attend. It would have been too suspicious for her not to be present while the rehabilitation room was being blown up."
"It's time to go," Inias interrupts, glancing nervously at the deserted corridor. "According to my sources, the rehabilitation room is empty right now, and there's no rehabilitation scheduled for the next four hours. Even without Ophaniel, we can do it."
Baradiel nods.
"Let's go."
Together, we fly with just a wingbeat to the rehabilitation room. It hasn't been that long since I was banished, but it feels strange moving through these familiar corridors again. Nothing has changed.
Thankfully, there's no one around when we stop in front of the rehabilitation room door. Many Angels are afraid to even come close to it, with the constant threat of being sent there at the slightest error we make. I know this, having avoided this corridor myself over the last few centuries.
"There's no one in sight," Inias whispers. "Good. Let's destroy the room, then Castiel can deliver the rebellion call through celestial channels. Are you ready?"
"Wait."
Oyub pauses at my command, her hand already on the door handle, a look of impatience on her face. How can she get so close with no fear at all? Having been through rehabilitation myself, I know what it entails, and the very sight of that door sends terror coursing through me and makes my Grace boil.
"We don't know what lies behind that door. It could be dangerous."
"There's nothing behind that door," she retorts confidently. "See for yourself."
And without further ado, she turns the handle and pushes the door open. Slivers of memory flash back to me, bringing me a year earlier, when I was ripped out of my vessel and dragged through Heaven's corridors, until I was shoved into this room and hurled tens of millions of years into my past, back to my first day of existence.
However, the room before my eyes now is totally empty and bare except for a chair set in the center. This room, which for most of my life has instilled in my brothers and me a fear of disobedience, which I've so often tried to imagine, and which not even Balthazar knew what it might contain.
And there's… nothing?
Noticing my stunned silence, Oyub too takes a detached look at the empty room.
"Surprised? The legendary rehabilitation room that keeps us in line and obedient to absurd orders is just an ordinary room. Only a few Angels know this. Destroying it will demystify it and undermine the Council."
I take a few hesitant steps forward, walking into the room. The steel of the chair beneath my fingers feels cold, but quite ordinary. There really is nothing special about this room.
"I don't understand," I say, turning to face my brothers and sister. "I went through rehabilitation here myself."
Baradiel walks in, hands in pockets, and spreads his wings in the empty space.
"You've always been exceptionally good at shaping human memories, Castiel. It's not common knowledge that our Grace, too, can be influenced and altered, even if it's a highly complex art to master. A handful of Angels received special training and were assigned the mission of rehabilitating rebel assets. The Council fosters mystery to ensure that the rehabilitation is perceived as divine punishment, rather than the action of ordinary Angels who merely do the will of the Archangels."
"How do you know all this?"
Oyub smiles.
"I told you earlier about my sister who works at the library and provided us with the concealing seal. Her name is Remiel, and she was one of those Rehabilitating Angels until she was downgraded for failing to fix you. Being labeled incompetent has driven her to such a rage that she's the most eager of us all to overthrow the Council."
It was an Angel who inflicted this on me? By interfering with my Grace?
After more than twenty years in charge of the Garrison, constantly disillusioned as I found out how the hierarchy really operates and what the Apocalypse is really all about, I thought nothing could ever shock me anymore.
Growing impatient, Inias frantically waves us to come out.
"We can't waste any more time! Let's team up to destroy the room. With the four of us, it should be easy."
We do so, and as we stand in front of the open room, we share a look as a signal to begin. I instantly gather all my Grace's power to unleash an energy wave that cracks the walls, while my brothers and sister shoot fireballs and lightning bolts at our target. The ground beneath our feet is shaking, and it takes us barely a few dozen seconds for the room to collapse in, swallowed up in raging fire.
I couldn't help noticing that I was far less powerful than Oyub, Inias and Baradiel. I hadn't realized until then how much my Grace had started to drain out since I've been shut down from Heaven. Every day I get weaker and closer to my own demise. I'll just keep losing my powers bit by bit, until I can no longer fly, until all that's left of celestial in me are millions of years of memories trapped in a rotting lump of flesh that will eventually lead me to a permanent death.
Spiraling flames engulf the ceiling and fill the corridor with smoke as the temperature soars. Without our Grace to shield the bodies we inhabit, we would have caught fire instantly.
"Now's time to send our rallying call to our brothers and sisters, Castiel!" Inias yells at me, extending his hand to me. "Use my Grace to access the communication channels!"
Clearing all lingering hesitation from my mind, I grab his hand and let my Grace filter through the pores of my skin to mingle with his. With the swirling strength of a tidal wave, hundreds, thousands of celestial voices pour into my head to form a deafening chorus of whispers. After months of silence and utter solitude in my own mind, the relentless flow of these voices is almost too much for me to bear.
"What are you waiting for, Castiel!?" Oyub's voice rises above the clutter of all Heaven's voices washing over me. "We can't stay here long enough or we'll get busted!"
Focusing to control the flow, I close my eyes and let my voice thunder through all celestial channels.
Brothers, sisters, listen carefully. You know who I am, and I have an important message for you. The orders you are given are not God's, but merely the whims of the Council and the Archangels. I've been killed for disobeying and trying to stop the Apocalypse, and God brought me back to life to resume my quest. Heaven must be liberated and the Apocalypse stopped. We are many, we are determined, and to prove it to you, we destroyed the rehabilitation room. The day will come when we'll be free from the Council's, the Archangels' and Destiny's oppression.
Join us. All you have to do is to be unafraid.
oOo
"We got lucky this time, but it was close."
Oyub dusts off her soot covered suit before she gives up with annoyance.
"And to think I went to the trouble of getting a new vessel and using a seal. Had I known it would be so easy, I'd have done it centuries ago. The arrogance of the Council will be the end of them."
"They won't be so careless next time. Security will probably be reinforced, and they'll be investigating how I was able to get into Heaven and use the communication channels. Be careful in the coming weeks."
Oyub snickers.
"Oh, given the Council's incompetence, I've got nothing to worry about."
I guess she has a point there. Anpiel would probably still be in our ranks if she hadn't been snitched on to the hierarchy.
Oyub looks up at the cloudy sky, wearily spreading her wings.
"Well, I've got to hurry up and drop this woman back where I found her and get my vessel back before he changes his mind. He's way more comfortable and I like his voice more. Inias will be in touch to let you know our next move."
And with a powerful flap of wings that sends the dead leaves twirling around us, Oyub flies off, leaving me alone in what appears to be a forest somewhere in Oregon. I'm still a bit too disoriented to locate myself more precisely, both in space and time.
A vibration in my pocket, then a second, and a third, I look down to pick up my phone, which keeps on buzzing. On the screen flash dozens of missed call notifications, most of them (thirty or so) from Dean. Three from Sam, seventeen from Bobby, and one from Garth.
I can't help but smile at the prospect of reuniting with the Winchester brothers. Have they found the Colt already? I have no idea how many hours have passed here on Earth while I was in Heaven. My senses are still numb from the flight and my blunt connection to the celestial channels through a different Grace than my own.
But just as I press the buttons to reach my contact list and call Dean, my phone suddenly starts ringing in my hand. A name pops up on the screen. Bobby's name.
So be it. I'll call Dean right after this.
I barely brought the phone up to my ear when Bobby's voice burst out in a booming roar.
« ABOUT FUCKING TIME, YOU GODDAMN ANGEL! I'VE BEEN TRYING TO CALL FOR THE LAST TWO FUCKING DAYS! »
"Hello, Bobby."
« Where the fuck have you been?! And hey, I'd have appreciated a heads-up, Dean's the one who told me about a month ago that you'd bailed off on some stupid, dangerous mission! »
A month ago? So it's november already? Time flows differently in Heaven, but I had no idea I've been away for so long, since the mission went smoothly, with no setbacks or difficulties.
"I was in Heaven trying to find an alternative to the Colt. I'll explain later."
« Yeah whatever. At least tell me Sam and Dean are with you. »
His gruff voice has calmed down, but I hear a weariness, an almost... pleading tone?
"They're not." I frown. "I just came back to Earth and I was about to give them a call."
A deep sigh sends a crackling sound through the line. The signal reception isn't very good, probably because I'm in a forest, and Bobby's voice sounds a bit distorted at times.
« I've been trying to call them for two days now and they ain't picking up the damn phone. I'm getting real worried about these idjits. Listen, just go and check if they're alive, alright? Before I grow a fucking ulcer like being stuck in this chair ain't enough. »
My Grace freezes in my veins. What I feared most came to pass. If anything happened to them while I was away...
No. I'll do anything to find them and whoever dares to harm them will pay the price.
"You can count on me, Bobby. I'll start looking for them right now."
oOo
In the next chapter
"So you know the son of a bitch?"
"I wouldn't say I know him, but I did have a brief conversation with him a few thousand years ago. I never thought I would ever see him again."