Language Advisory* Continuing with the theme of angry, frustrated hunters, multiple instances of foul language are in this chapter from both Dean and Bobby. To be honest, this warning will probably continue to be posted at the beginning of every Dean chapter, and most likely Sam chapter's going forwards as well. If anyone is opposed to salty sailor talk, this may be where you want to get off of this ride.
"Talk to me." Dean says, the minute he and Bobby have returned to Baby after the angels have left. "Any of those asshats ringing any bells from the stuff you and Sammy dug up?" He presses his foot down hard on the gas, sending Baby flying forwards towards the onramp to the highway. Now more than ever they need to reach Cas and Sam as fast as possible, before those idiots land themselves in even deeper trouble than they are in now. Bobby sighs, pulling off his ballcap and rubbing his head.
"Unfortunately." He grumbles, and Dean tenses as he picks up on the wariness in the older hunter's voice. "Ishmael and Malachai are soldiers. Nothing super impressive about them, except that as far as your brother and I could tell they had been at every major biblical battle. They helped burn Sodom and Gomorrah, they fought against Lucifer in the Rebellion, they were part of striking down every first born during the Plagues of Egypt, and they both commanded small garrisons that were sent to Earth to deal with things like the Grigori rebellion, the razing of Soloman's temple-"
"Wait, that was the angels?" Dean interrupts, unable to stop his curiosity. "I thought that was because of the ancient Romans, and Babylonians?" Dean might not have been the best student in the world, but he did have a knack for history, especially when battles were involved. His father had thought that studying old battle strategies would help hone his and Sam's own strategic minds that they could then apply to hunting. He couldn't count how many times he had read Sun Tzu's Art of War, both to impress his father and because he genuinely enjoyed learning about anything that would help make him a better, stronger, faster hunter. It was probably the only book in the world that Dean knew as much about, if not more, than Sammy.
"So did I until Sam pieced together the clues hinting at angelic involvement. Thanks to some ancient documents, a few dozen cups of coffee and that super-sized brain of his, he was able to put together a pattern of high profile priests and soldiers who went missing before the temple burned, both times. All of them either later turned up dead, eyes burned out and their organs completely liquified inside, or devoted themselves entirely to the faith, going on to preach about angels and divine creatures, and declaring themselves vessels for the holy. Of course, a lot of them got themselves burned or executed for being heretics, but there were enough legitimate accounts that Sam dug up to suggest at least some of them were genuine vessels." Bobby explains.
"Always knew he was a nerd." Dean mutters under his breath, even as a proud, awed smile tugs at his lips. He knows he might be biased, but Dean has, more than once, wondered if Sam was a legitimate genius. Like, on the level of Einstein, or Hawking, or Zeppelin. They had never done any formal testing or anything, but Dean has never seen anyone who was able to absorb, compartmentalize, recall and utilize information the way Sammy can. Whether it was for his ridiculously advanced classes in high school, or researching lore for a hunt, the way Sam can find exactly the information they are looking for, track patterns and clues from seemingly nothing, and put together the barest scraps of information to make a stupidly accurate profile for their cases is completely unparalleled to anything else he has ever seen. And Dean has grown up around hunters, he has trained with the best. Men and women like Ash, Bobby, Pastor Jim, Caleb, their father, Ellen. None of them can do what he has seen Sammy do. No wonder the kid got a fully ride to one of the best schools in the country. Having sensed Dean's drifting thoughts, Bobby clears his throat to regain his attention and Dean pulls himself back to the here and now to listen to the rest of Bobby's answer.
"So yeah, the two guys are just foot soldiers, grunts in Raphael's army. Maybe leaders of small forces, but no-one super high ranking." Bobby explains.
"And the other one? Naomi?" Dean asks warily. Bobby scowls and Dean tenses, his hands whitening around his grip on the steering wheel.
"She's a problem." Bobby admits. "From what Sam and I could figure, she was the right hand to the archangels. Mostly Michael, before Sam dragged him into the Cage, but she served Gabriel and Raphael as well, before Gabriel left Heaven."
"So what's her deal? Why is she so important?" Dean demands.
"According to the little bit of lore we found, she is the Angel of Memories." Bobby explains. "Some lore has her as this patron saint type, protecting over humans and angels alike. They say her job is to keep bad memories away, to sort through good and bad things and take away any damaging memories that might affect someone. If an angel was hurt in battle, her job would be to heal their minds so they could continue their missions, supposedly. And humans would pray to her after both good and bad times, either to help preserve their memories, or erase them, depending on the situation." Dean frowns, not liking what he is hearing. Memories are powerful, this entire year with Sam has nailed that point home just about as much as any point could be nailed home. Someone, anyone, with the ability to manipulate memories was dangerous, good or bad. And, if this angel is siding with Raphael to restart the Apocalypse, Dean can't imagine any scenario where she would be the good guy.
"And the rest of the lore?" Dean asks warily. Bobby sighs heavily, his scowl deepening.
"She was referred to a lot as Heaven's Interrogator." He admits. Dean swallows nervously, not liking the sounds of that at all. "From the few bits and pieces we were able to scrounge up, it seemed like rather than healing the minds of wounded angels, she would extract their memories, report on them to the archangels, and then alter the angel's mind to forget anything the archangels deemed unnecessary to remember. It was supposedly her job to debrief angels after a mission, but Sam… he had another theory about what her job might entail."
"And what was that?" Dean spits out tensely, wringing the leather of his steering wheel so tightly his entire hands have gone white.
"Remember… remember back when the Seals of the Apocalypse were breaking, and Cas called you about something important, but by the time you got there it was just Jimmy Novak? And then, when Cas did come back into that poor girl Claire, before re-possessing Jimmy, he was… different?" Bobby asks carefully. Dean scowls, hating the reminder of that time, and that event specifically, with every bone in his body. He isn't surprised Bobby is treading carefully, considering how low of a point in the Winchester's lives that day had been. It was the day Dean had found out Sam was drinking demon blood. It was the day that Sammy's addiction had gotten so out of control he lost any ability to hide it anymore. It was the moment Dean had honestly, genuinely felt like he was losing his baby brother for good. Now, of course, he knows he wasn't losing Sammy, he was literally, and figuratively kicking him out of the door, while Sammy was drowning in fear and pain. Hindsight is a bitch. But Dean assumes Bobby is only bringing this up to make a point, so he shoves past the pain and guilt, trying to focus on the memory itself of Cas' abrupt change of attitude.
"Yeah." He says slowly. "And?"
"And, remember how Anna was exactly the same? Went from wanting to protect and help you and Sam, to wanting to murder Sam seemingly out of nowhere? Well, Sam thinks they both might have been victims of this Naomi. She did something to their memories, messed with them, to get them both to fall back in line with Heaven's orders." Bobby explains.
"Angelic brainwashing." Dean groans. "Fan-freaking-tastic. Sounds exactly like something that would be up those dickbags' street."
"No kidding." Bobby agrees.
"And now she and Raphael are after Sam to… what? Brainwash Sammy into joining their cause?" Dean demands. Bobby shrugs.
"You got me. Malachai said that Raphael wanted Sam to redeem himself. To fix the mess he's made, they said." Bobby says slowly.
"But he already did!" Dean bursts out furiously. "Sammy stopped Lucifer! He killed Lilith, Alistair, anyone major involved on Hell's side for the battle royale. Besides, Heaven wanted him to kickstart the Apocalypse to begin with! They drove him into Ruby's arms, they held back when they knew what killing Lilith would do."
"I know that Dean." Bobby says patiently. "But the angels wanted the Apocalypse to happen, and Sam stopped it cold. He didn't just take Lucifer back to Hell, he took Michael. He stopped the battle royale before it started. Maybe that's the mess Malachai was referring to. We know Raphael wants to bust Lucifer and Michael out, maybe he thinks Sam's the way to do that, since Sam stopped it in the first place." Dean groans, fear, anger, hatred and frustration becoming a maelstrom inside of him. How many times did they have to do this dance? Wasn't one go around with the end of the world enough for anyone? This isn't fair. Sam won. He beat Heaven, and Hell, fair and square. He more than repaid any 'sins' he might have committed just by agreeing to try to beat Lucifer. The courage it took to say yes to Lucifer on a slim chance of success alone cleaned Sam's slate forever, in Dean's book. And then, to actually do it, to beat Lucifer and spare the world from not one, but two asshole archangels, while sacrificing himself, willingly, to an eternity of torture, put Sam so far into the green that Heaven itself should be bowing down to him in gratitude. Instead, half of it wants to put him through the same old shit again, just because they were sore losers.
"We can't let that happen, Bobby." Dean whispers, tossing an anguished look to his second father. He lets all the fear and worry he has for his baby brother shine through on his face. "After what Lucifer and Michael did to Sam, to his soul… we can't let them get out. We can't let Sam have gone through all of that for nothing."
"I know son." Bobby says, looking back at Dean empathetically, the same desperation in his face, along with a fierce resolution. "And we won't. We'll get to Sam, we'll keep him safe from Raphael, and we'll stop Cas from doing something colossally stupid. We've faced worse odds, Dean, and we always come out on top." Doubts swirl across Dean's mind, but there is something so certain, so calm, and matter-of-fact in Bobby's voice, that he can't help but be reassured. It reminds him of his father. Steady, confident, reliable. Dean can't help but respond to that tone, to trust in it. Clearing his own throat, Dean finally loosens his grip on the wheel, nodding decidedly.
"Damn right." He says. Bobby smirks slightly.
"Damn right." He echoes. They drive in silence for another few miles, before Bobby starts to speak again. "I think we better scratch the whole Lebanon plan, though."
"Why?" Dean asks, glancing at him curiously.
"Just a gut feeling." Bobby admits. "The sooner we get to Cas and Sam, the better." Dean nods, agreeing with that fully.
"Well, we should figure out where Cas is hiding out then." Dean says. "So that we can drive straight there, instead of wasting time driving around town looking for any signs." Bobby nods and reaches back into the duffle on the back seat again, pulling out the tablet that Sam had given him as a gift earlier this year. He scowls at it.
"I still hate this thing. It needs buttons." He declares. Dean chuckles slightly, remembering Sam's face the last time Bobby had said that. Judging by the small smirk on Bobby's expression, he probably is remembering it to. Bobby settles more comfortably into his seat, starting his research by digging into locations in Bootbock that might suit the idiotic schemes of wayward angels and dick demons, while Dean focuses on just getting them there, which proves slightly more difficult than expected. While technically speaking only eight or so hours from Sioux Falls, that didn't take into account the four absolutely ridiculous traffic jams they ran into, despite it being the middle of the freaking night. Three of the pile ups were due to massive construction being done to the highway, especially around the cities they pass through, but the last one was some kind of accident. As Baby crept along with the glacial pace of the other trucks and midnight drivers, Dean and Bobby spotted the wreckage of a black sedan blocking two of the three lanes. A very familiar black sedan. Both hunters scowl in near unison as they realize the angels probably trashed the car in order to slow them down, and that put a deep pit of fear in Dean. How would the angels know they had continued driving this far south? Or, was it just coincidence? Were the angels just ditching the car, with no regard for whether or not Bobby and Dean would be slowed down by it? Somehow Dean didn't buy that. It didn't fit with the Winchester-luck he and Sam were cursed with since Dean was four, and that affected by Bobby just for associating with them. Finally, sick of the highway, and traffic jams, and angels in general, Dean exited the highway just as dawn was beginning to break on the horizon, deciding to take the back roads the rest of the way towards Sam. Stopping only twice for coffee, both hunters determined to stay awake despite being up all night, the sun has risen entirely before Dean sees the sign welcoming them to the tiny town of Bootbock.
"Tell me you have something." Dean says, reluctantly slowing down as they approach the city limits, so that they are only going twenty over the limit.
"I think so. There is an industrial park on the north side of town, most of the buildings are run by legitimate organizations but there is one that is fishy. Athaliah Incorporated. Looks like a new business, started this year, and all I can find on it is it is a holding warehouse for supplies, supposedly. But there are no records on vendors, or advertisements or signs of recruiting employees. As far as I can tell, it is a business on paper only." Bobby says.
"Athaliah… wait, why is that name familiar?" Dean frowns, wishing for the millionth time his geek boy wonder was here. He has no doubt Sam would know not only the name, but its origin, its meaning, and the entire backstory behind it. Bobby just shrugs.
"Not sure… I think it might be biblical, but, old school biblical. Dark ages old, if I remember right, nothing that they teach in Sunday School nowadays." Bobby says. Dean frowns, groaning a few minutes later as suddenly it clicks, Bobby's reference to Sunday School making the answer pop into his head.
"That's it. Pastor Jim told me and Sam about Athaliah once." Dean explains, answering Bobby's unasked question as his groan. "Athaliah means Jehovah, or Yaweh is exalted. It is old school biblical, she was an evil queen. Uh, of Judah I think." Sam would remember more of her story, but Dean could recall enough of the important details. "She was a priestess, I think, one of God's chosen, but she grew frustrated when her kingdom was falling apart and God did nothing to interfere. So, instead of waiting for divine wrath, she decided to take matters into her own hands and she made a deal with a demon, became a witch, and she harnessed the demons power to wipe out her enemies, and reshaped Judah to her ideal kingdom."
"Well that's a comforting thought, considering what we are up against right now." Bobby murmurs sarcastically. Dean swallows nervously, nodding once. The similarities between Athaliah and Cas were too uncanny for his liking. Both followers of Heaven, frustrated by Heaven's actions, or lack thereof, dealing with demons to solve their problems… Dean just has to pray that this ends better for Cas than it did for Queen Athaliah. He isn't sure what the bible says happened to the evil queen, but Pastor Jim told him and Sam that she was betrayed by the demon she enlisted, brutally ripped to shreds by hellhounds until she was on the cusp of death, before she was doused in holy oil and burned. Pastor Jim said it was because she had grown arrogant and thought herself better than the demon she had dealt with, and that her death was a warning to others not to cross their demons. "I wonder why Cas would pick that name though. Sure, to regular civilians it is innocuous enough, but hunters, angels, demons… they would all pick up on it as being suspicious."
"Maybe Cas didn't pick it." Dean says, directing Baby towards the northern end of town, his foot starting to press down on the gas again, the closer they get to the warehouse. "Maybe Crowley did, kind of a general warning to Cas about not betraying their partnership." Bobby shrugs.
"Maybe." He agrees. He frowns, shifting suddenly. "Hey… you feel that?" Dean frowns, confused for a moment, before he realizes what Bobby is referring to. His skin is crawling, almost itchy, though not in the normal sense. More the… hunter's sixth sense kind of way. The hairs are standing up on his arms and the back of his neck, and he feels his well-trained muscles starting to tense on instinct, as his stomach roils and the first few drops of adrenaline start to pump through his body. Something supernatural is happening, close by, or about to happen. Dean has felt the sensation on hunts too many times, has spent his life training and honing it too well, to ignore it now, and he pushes Baby even faster as the angel blade slides into Bobby's hand. They whip around a corner, Dean barely seeing a sign indicating the parking zones for Athaliah Inc. fly past them as he pulls the car quickly up to a massive, three story warehouse and slams it into park. He takes in as much as he can quickly, noting the drab white and grey metal and stone making up the building they are standing in front of, and briefly glancing across the empty parking lot, towards an old gravel hill in the background, with a small group of hikers, probably, standing at the top of it before he dismisses them, much more interested in the nearby bodies littering the ground by the entrances. Men and women of different ages, sizes, colors and clothing styles lying dead, some bleeding out of stab wounds, with dark, wing-shaped shadows spreading behind their backs, but all of them with burned out eyes, smoke still coming from several faces. "Balls." Bobby curses furiously, as anxiety spikes in Dean. If there had been any doubts about this being the right place with the suspicious name, they were gone now. Angels and demons were here, fighting, and, judging by some of the dead wearing grey suits, at least some of them were on Raphael's side. Grabbing Ruby's knife from the duffle bag, Dean throws himself out of the impala, followed closely by Bobby, their long, anxious night forgotten as adrenaline washes away the exhaustion from their systems, leaving only the heightened senses and thrumming nervous energy that always precedes a hunt, or a battle. Both men start sprinting towards the building, Dean thinking only of Sam and praying with every fiber he has that Sam is at least in a position to defend himself, but before the men can take more then a couple steps, something in the air changes. Dean had been out in the woods, out in the wild, during enough storms to recognize the sudden tension in the air, the soft crackling, the smell of ozone for what it is.
"Bobby down!" Dean screams, just as, out of the clear blue sky, the biggest lightning bolt Dean has ever seen strikes into the warehouse. The blast of the strike radiates out and Dean finds himself flying backwards, slamming hard into the rough pavement, his head cracking painfully on the ground. His vision whites out entirely from the blinding brightness of the bolt, and, maybe a little bit from the force of his head hitting the ground, although his current adrenaline rush keeps him from feeling too much of what he knows will eventually be a splitting headache. Heat washes over him as a deafening explosion rings out across the open air, followed by the heavy crashing sounds of a building collapsing inwards. Within seconds, a loud, rushing roar starts up, and Dean knows the building is now on fire. Disoriented, and dazed, Dean starts struggling to his feet, trying to figure out where the hell that lightning bolt came from. As he looks around, trying to focus, he notices the people starting to emerge from the ruined warehouse, angels or demons he is not sure of though. As his eyes rove around, taking in the now almost… apocalyptic scene in front of him, trying to process that this burning, collapsing, ruined shell of a building had, in seconds, replaced the tall, sturdy, functional and operated base of operations that was holding his brother, he absently notices the hikers on the nearby hill are gone. Must have run away from the explosion. Good, less casualties to worry about, Dean thinks to himself. He glances across the pavement and spots Bobby pulling himself to his feet, scrapped up and bleeding lightly from his rough impact, but otherwise apparently unharmed. He is still holding the angel blade. Looking down suddenly, Dean is relieved to see he hadn't lost his grip on the demon blade either.
"You good?" Bobby calls warily. Dean nods.
"Yeah. Come on, we need to find Sam, and Cas." Dean says, and, quickly dismissing the lingering effects of his confusion over what just happened, he starts running for the building again. The demons and angels who had escaped the building were all disappearing, flying or teleporting away. No one challenged them or tried to stop them as they clambered their way through the new holes in the walls. Heavy smoke fills the air, and both hunters pull bandanas from their pockets, quickly and expertly tying them around their mouths and noses before continuing their way forward, picking their way through piles of rubble, around and under twisted, ruined walls and doorways, and over the bodies of vessels that must have been killed before the lightning blast. Dean tries not to think about that, to think about what was clearly some kind of angelic, hellish battle taking place where his brother was most likely being held hostage. He definitely tries not to think of the coincidence of that so soon after he and Bobby were accosted by angels for Sam's location. Instead, he focuses on trying to manage the maze of an already complicated layout for a warehouse, made a thousand times worse by the new damages. Finding their way blocked several times, he and Bobby find the only way to keep moving deeper into the building is to go up a stairwell that seems mostly intact. They try to get out at the second floor, but find the door blocked by rubble and debris from the explosion, so they continue up to the third floor. Exiting into a mostly unaffected hallway, Dean and Bobby look both ways, spotting a couple of bodies laying about half way down the hall to the right. They move towards them cautiously, but both are clearly dead as they get closer, incinerated almost into nothing. Across from them, a gaping hole stands where a door used to be.
"Dean look." Bobby says, pointing at the wall around where the door had stood, and Dean recognizes the sigils carved into the wall.
"Binding magic." Dean says softly. "Fuck…" He moves quickly into the room, hoping to see one safe, healthy, maybe mildly terrified baby brother, but the room is depressingly empty. He looks around sharply anyways, taking in any potential clues. The mangled metal remains of the door are laying on the mangled wooden remains of what was probably some kind of table. Books, ripped and torn, lay scattered around the room, along with a couple sets of what looks like Sam's clothes. Dean crouches, finding a deck of cards half hidden under the bed, and, recognizing that they are Sam's cards, he quickly slides them into his back pocket, resuming his scan. There is a metal tray laying on the ground, untouched peanut butter and jam sandwiches, and an equally untouched pie, smashed on the ground next to it, with an unopened bottle of water. There is also a long chain attached to the bed, though it looks like it was snapped apart. Dean stands up as Bobby checks the attached bathroom, moving to the window to see bars with more binding magic etched into the metal. "Sam was here Bobby. You think maybe he got out during the fighting?" Dean can't help the little bit of hope in his voice. And he can't help the devastation that almost crushes him when he hears a shout.
"Sam!" Both men turn, their blades raised, as Cas stumbles into view. His clothing is ripped and burned and bloodied, his trench coat near torn off as he steps into the room, holding a bleeding wound in his side with one hand, and his angel blade in the other. Despite his obvious wounds, he marches into the room determinedly, eyes blazing, though he freezes as he spots Bobby and Dean waiting for him. Dean takes advantage of that, striding forward and grabbing the angel by his ruined coat, shoving him back against the wall.
"Where's Sam?" Dean snarls. Cas doesn't look hurt, or even concerned about Dean's hold on him, his eyes sweeping over the empty space, and what looks like devastation crosses his expression, the same kind of devastation Dean felt hearing the angel calling for his brother.
"He isn't here." Cas says softly, but not in his usual, matter-of-fact way. It almost sounds like a denial. Like a plea. He closes his eyes, and Dean feels infuriated. Cas stole Sam in the first place. This is his fault, he doesn't get to be upset. Dean tightens his grip and slams Cas back against the wall again.
"We know he isn't here." Dean spits out furiously. "Where is he now?" Cas opens his eyes, watching Dean with heavy, sad eyes.
"I… I don't know Dean. He was supposed to be safe here, I don't know how… the warding." Cas groans, tilting his head back against the wall. Bobby swears behind Dean.
"You stupid son of a bitch." Bobby growls. "What were you thinking?"
"I was trying to protect him." Cas answers. "I didn't realize it would draw anyone to him… no one here would care about something like that. Or question it, if we ordered them not to."
"What the hell are you two talking about?" Dean demands, still refusing to relinquish his hold on Cas.
"There isn't just binding magic around this room, Dean." Bobby answers, standing close to the doorway. "There is protective magic as well, supposed to seal the room from threats. But magic like that leaves an aura. Some things can detect it, if they know what to look for." Dread once again fills Dean as he looks back towards Bobby.
"Some things… like, archangels?" Dean asks, not wanting the answer. Bobby gives it to him anyways, in a simple nods, and Dean turns his glare back on the angel trapped between him and the wall. "So… you kidnap my brother, and you lock him up, chain him up-" Dean pauses to kick the length of chain behind him. "- and you practically paint a neon sign to the archangel who is hunting him around the door." Confusion crosses Cas' face.
"Raphael is hunting Sam?" He asks.
"Was." Dean spits, connecting the dots in his head. The angels last night. All the traffic jams that significantly slowed them down, for hours, on stretches of highway that should have been dead in the middle of the night, reminding him uncomfortably of the last archangel they met that could manipulate reality around them. The grey suited angels lying dead outside, and inside the warehouse. The lightning bolt from a sky completely free of anything, let alone the storm clouds that should have heralded a strike that big. Sam's absence from a very secure looking room, and Cas' genuine distress at him being gone. Because, even as angry and as scared as Dean is right now, as furious at Cas as he is, he can tell Sam being gone is upsetting him. Whatever his plans for Sam were, they didn't include this, Dean is certain of that. All of that leads to a very ugly bigger picture. Dean looks towards Bobby, and he can see by the anger and worry on the older man's face that Bobby is reaching the same conclusion he is. "Raphael took Sam."
"How?" Cas demands, and for the first time, he moves against Dean, grabbing Dean's wrists and prying them off of his coat, gently, but firmly pushing him back so that Cas can get away from the wall before he drops Dean's wrists, stepping out of the young hunter's reach. "Raphael knew where I was, but not that I had Sam here. Only two other angels knew, and neither of them would dare tell Raphael, I am positive."
"Wait, Raphael knew you were here?" Dean scowls. "And you brought Sam here anyways?" Cas meets Dean's angry expression with one of his own.
"You left me no choice Dean. I was trying to explain my plan to you, to all of you, but you and Bobby were unwilling to listen. You weren't willing to back down, so I needed to make you, and I needed Sam close so that I could keep an eye on him." Cas answers coldly.
"Well, brilliant job of that." Dean snaps. "You led the archangel directly to him!"
"No, I didn't." Cas snaps right back. "If Raphael knew I had Sam here when I took him, he would have acted immediately. And if either Esther or Ion were working for Raphael, they would have brought Sam to him at some point last night while I was away. Raphael is practical and efficient, he doesn't hesitate to take what he wants or needs."
"Well then how do you explain Raphael finding you?" Dean demands. "He couldn't have been following us, it looks like you were under attack before we ever got here."
"Balls." Bobby says suddenly, gripping his head in frustration, his voice gruff with guilt. Both Cas and Dean turn to look at him.
"What, Bobby?" Dean asks, his tone only slightly less harsh than it had been with Cas. Bobby looks towards Cas, wary and weary.
"Are you the only angel that can sneak around invisible?" Bobby asks. A sinking feeling fills Dean's gut. Cas shakes his head.
"Every angel has the ability. Fledglings were taught how to do it by the archangels." Cas explains. Bobby and Dean share a devastated look.
"The gas station." Dean whispers.
"What gas station?" Cas asks sharply. Dean closes his eyes, stepping back as he starts to tremble, guilt rushing through him. He should have known. The angels gave up way too easily. They just left, and Dean and Bobby didn't hesitate, didn't question it. They never even considered it may have been a setup, a trap. They had assumed the danger had passed, and openly spoke about Sam. They said he was with Cas and never paused to think somebody might have been listening. They should have known better! Dean spins, kicking the wall and letting out a yell of rage, clutching his hair as his foot goes right through the plaster drywall. They knew, knew, Cas had spied on them, repeatedly. They knew Cas had the ability, so of course, why wouldn't Raphael? Anguish overwhelms Dean, washing out his anger, his fear, the headache he can feel building in intensity, the haziness of smoke drifting into the hall as the fire spreads closer to them, the floors trembling under his feet as pieces of the building continue to collapse and weaken. None of that matters at the moment. Because once again, Sam is in the hands of an archangel. An archangel bent on undoing every Sam fought for, sacrificed for. And it wasn't Cas' fault. As easy as it would be to blame this on Cas, Dean couldn't. Not entirely, at least. Cas didn't know Raphael was after Sam. He didn't know bringing Sam here would put him in even more danger. No, this was on Dean, and Bobby. They were sloppy, and careless, and Sammy is paying the price. "Dean." Cas' sharp voice cuts through Dean's panicked thoughts and he blinks back at the angel. "What gas station?" Dean hesitates, glancing at Bobby, unsure of Cas. If they should tell him anything at this point, if they could trust him with even that small piece of information. But before either Bobby or Cas could say anything more, the floor under them gave an enormous groan and started to tilt, to collapse. Terror jolts through Dean as he starts to brace himself, before Cas reaches out, grabbing each hunter by the arms, and there is the familiar swooping sensation of Cas flying with them. In the blink of an eye, all three of them are standing on the stable, not-shifting ground of the parking lot, right next to Baby. Cas groans, leaning back on the car and grabbing his injured side, right as the rest of the former warehouse collapses in on itself, becoming only a pile of ruins that begin burning even brighter while sirens, and a thick column of black smoke, fill the air.
Notes:
So the biblical figure Athaliah is indeed a real person mentioned in the bible, however I may or may not have taken creative license to rework her story to fit with Supernatural themes and motives. Just a fun fact to share, because I adore evil queens of all sorts and also did not know the bible had evil queens until my very brief google search brought her up.