Chapter Seven

Forgotten Nightmares and Dreams

June 1, 2010

Bobby sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. The archives were too damn quiet, and it was slowly driving him stir crazy. Azrial had kept to herself after their conversation, and while he understood why, it did leave an awkward silence. She'd done a majority of the non-research talking, mostly about history or relaying updates from Crowley or the boys, but now she barely answered questions. Rowen had left, saying he needed some time away from both him and Azrial. That meant there was absolute silence as Bobby read, their babysitter having run off the moment Azrial raised her voice two weeks back.

Smart boy.

"Any updates from Crowley?"

"No."

Bobby shut his eyes and took a deep breath. This one-word answer crap had to stop. He missed the conversations and sarcastic commentary they used to share. He'd hoped after New York things would be different, but Azrial's admission had changed that. She'd been willing to talk about it with him privately at first, but once the moment passed, she clammed up and refused to acknowledge anything had happened. At this point, he was considering calling Crowley in to deal with the moody archangel. The only thing stopping him was the tiny voice in his head telling him to fix it himself. After all, he'd pushed and Azrial had given in so he should at least try and reach out to her.

She was making it damn difficult though.

"We'll have a finalized location soon," he said.

"That's good."

Well, that was progress. He'd earned another word. Bobby sighed and shut the book he was reading and turned toward Azrial who was staring out the window.

"Alright, princess. I need you to talk to me."

"I am talking."

"No, you ain't. Talking involves furthering the conversation."

Azrial frowned and turned toward him with an annoyed huff. "What do you want to talk about now, Bobby?"

"I apologized," he said. "What more can I do?"

"It has nothing to do with whether you are sorry or not. Do you realize how painful that was for me to talk about?"

Bobby sighed at her sharp demand. "I don't think anyone but an angel could, princess. But like I told ya, I do know what wanting to die is like."

"Then you should understand why I'm not in a good mood."

"Azrial, I can't handle the quiet anymore." She looked at him strangely, and Bobby turned away. "You were doin' most of the talking, and it was pretty enjoyable. So please, just tell me what I can do to fix this so I can have the sarcasm and historical commentary back."

The room was quiet for a few minutes, and Bobby chose not to press his luck. He didn't go back to reading through, instead, pulling out his phone and beginning to draft a text to Crowley. A gentle hand stopped him and Bobby looked up at Azrial who smiled weakly.

"Don't make him worry. How about you just take me to lunch, and we'll let the matter rest."

"Are you sure? I'm sure he'd come visit."

Azrial chuckled and moved her hand off the phone. "I'm sure he would, but I could use some emotional understanding rather than just sex."

The joke eased the tension in his back, and Bobby smirked at the archangel.

"Finally stopped trying to fuck your problems away?"

"Of course not, hunter. But, seeing as you caused the problem…" Azrial gave him an overly lewd look and Bobby broke into laughter. Between that and Azrial's smile, he finally felt on safer ground.

"For the record," she said quietly. "I wasn't really mad at you, just...wallowing in the past."

"I understand. I am here though if you need an ear."

"Maybe once this is all over, Crowley and I can fill your ear with what we've lived through. Just promise not to keep him all to yourself."

Bobby snorted and stood up. He wasn't sure if the archangel was being serious or not, so let the topic die.

"Come on. Let's go get lunch."

She fell into stride with him, and he wasn't sure if he could describe his relief when she started talking about what the boys and Crowley were up to recently.

Line Break

June 7, 2010

Crowley pursed his lips as yet another spell fizzled out. That was another spell, and a batch of dwindling ingredients, down the drain.

"Damnit," Sam hissed as he started cleaning up the burnt remnants of ingredients. "Why does that bastard have to be so well hidden?"

"It's that damn pocket reality of his," Crowley said. He was quickly running out of spells to try. Tracking was a specialty of his, but Gabriel may be prey too slick for him. That was a hard pill to swallow, but on the other hand, it did say a lot that it took an archangel to stump him.

"What now?" Dean's question had Crowley looking over to the other hunter. He was never involved in the casting after one of the spells lashed back at him. The older Winchester lacked the ability to use complex magic. Thankfully, the man didn't seem to mind playing errand boy instead.

"I don't know," Crowley admitted. He was racking his brain for a spell that would work, but only one was coming to mind. It would require a coven though, and two didn't count. They would need a third, an unlikely prospect, and they'd have to be at least as powerful as Sam. Maybe Bobby could help, big maybe, but Crowley didn't think the man was powerful enough.

"Crowley, I know that face." Sam's voice shook Crowley from his thoughts, and he shot the hunter a questioning look.

"What?"

"You have an idea. Tell me," Sam prompted.

"It won't work," Crowley sighed. "There is another spell we could try, but it requires at least three, ideally five, witches."

"So we just need another witch?" Castiel asked. "Couldn't we just compel one to aid us? You must have one under contract."

"We need a natural witch, not a borrower." Crowley couldn't keep the disgust out of his voice at the thought of working with one of the witches he currently held a contract for. If it wasn't so damn lucrative, he wouldn't even deal for magic.

"There have to be other natural witches," Dean pointed out. "Why not ask one of them?"

"It's not that simple, squirrel," Crowley sighed as he began pacing the room. "We'd need someone who was at least as powerful as your brother, preferably more so since we'd only be three."

"Okay, and you don't know anyone?" Dean pressed.

"Not well enough to ask a favor of this magnitude, and certainly no one I'd trust."

"Why can't we just ask Azrial?" Sam asked. "I mean, she's a damn arch. Shouldn't she know magic?"

Crowley snorted, and it quickly turned into a small chuckle as he shook his head.

"If you want to bring the roof down on our heads, please feel free to ask for her help. Azrial lacks the finesse for magic, moose. She'd rather use her power to break down whatever's in her way."

"See, her method makes sense."

Crowley rolled his eyes at Dean's comment. "Of course you'd think that."

"Crowley, there has to be someone you could ask." Castiel's voice dragged the conversation back to the issue at hand, and Crowley sighed.

He racked his brain trying to think of anyone who wouldn't turn around and sell them all out. The list was short, and the first to come to mind was actually Orion's twin. His sister, the matron of the family, was apparently rather gifted, but even with Azrial's strange connection, he doubted the woman would help. The Valerius family was far too private for that, so there was no point in having Azrial try to broach the subject. There were the Plum sisters, but they fell firmly into the 'will sell us out for pennies' category.

Then there was that red-haired bitch. Crowley frowned, anger starting to pool deep in his soul. She would actually be the best choice, already knowing the spell they'd use and powerful enough to make it work with only three.

"You thought of someone?" Castiel asked. Damn perceptive angel. Crowley let out a ragged sigh, wishing not for the first time that the Valerius family made themselves more accessible.

"Yes," he said bitterly. "But she will try to kill us the moment she is able."

"Nothing new," Dean shrugged. "Where can we find her bitchiness?"

Crowley snorted and turned toward Sam. "Time for one of our tracking spells to actually work, moose."

"Personal item, blood, or relationship?" Sam asked

"Blood," Crowley said flatly. "Get set up and I'll go retrieve it."

"That's just creepy," Dean snorted. "You take blood from all your friends?"

"Only the ones who might kill me," Crowley countered as he vanished from the house.

They didn't need to know it was his blood being used in the ritual. He planned on taking that secret with him to the grave.

Line Break

June 9, 2010

Rowen walked back into the archives after an obviously distracted Castiel dropped him safely back in Rome. He paused, glancing through the glass at Azrial and Bobby. They were sitting next to each other and seemed to be combing through more books. The tension that had existed before he left had disappeared, and the two were even closer to each other than before.

He doubted either noticed or would acknowledge such a thing, though.

Rowen pushed open the door and had to clear his throat to get them to notice he was back. Azrial gave a cordial nod before turning back to the book, and Bobby raised an eyebrow.

"I thought you'd be a few more days."

"No, but I would like to talk to you. Alone," Rowen said flatly. Azrial looked up at his tone and glanced between them in surprise.

"Well," she drawled. "That's my cue to get us lunch."

The archangel stood up, stretching her arms as she nabbed the euros Bobby offered her. She left the room without further comment, and Rowen turned toward Bobby as he internally braced for this conversation.

"Well, whatcha want to talk about?" Bobby asked, relaxing into his chair.

"You should have dropped the subject when I told you too." Rowen wanted to get right to the heart of the matter and decided not to mince words with his friend. "It was none of your business."

"That may be true, but Azrial had the right to tell me if she wanted to."

"You pushed her into telling you," Rowen said. "I get it, you still don't trust her and Crowley, but you should have trusted me."

Bobby didn't respond to that, and Rowen felt his anger at the situation slowly coming back. "Why couldn't you just leave it the hell alone?"

"Because I want to trust her," Bobby said.

"Then leave me the hell out of it!" Rowen snapped. "You had no right to push about something that involved me."

Bobby frowned at him. "Rowen, what the hell are you on about?"

Rowen froze and stared at Bobby. The man's eyes were closed off, he didn't look confused but he also didn't have a knowing look in his eyes either. Had Azrial not told him?

"She...didn't mention-?" Rowen tried to find his voice but failed after a few moments.

"Azrial," Bobby stressed her name, "doesn't really know ya, Rowen. I mean, ya only met less than a year ago."

His anger fizzled out at Bobby's calm words. Rowen took a deep breath as he realized the reality of the situation. Azrial hadn't said anything because she had nothing to say about the situation since she didn't personally remember it.

"So, she doesn't remember anything from her time without grace?"

Bobby sighed. "I won't go into it, ain't my story to tell, but the answer is generally no. She doesn't. She spent that time as a reaper and Death kept her exceptionally busy. If it weren't for running into Crowley, she'd likely not be here."

"Lucky they...ran into each other than," Rowen said. "Did you make any progress while I was gone?"

"As a matter of fact," Bobby said and pulled out a map. "We've finalized a location, well a 12-mile radius anyway, of one of the shooting stars."

Rowen clung to the change of subject, a strong sense of relief washing over him. He got his wish, his past had stayed where he wanted it. He walked over to the table and looked down at the map.

"Where?"

"Iceland, a few hours south of Reykjavik." Bobby tapped a spot that didn't seem close to much of anything. "Azrial wants to go personally to check it out."

"Alone?" Rowen asked, surprised.

"Over my dead body," Bobby muttered. "Nah, I'm going hiking with her. We're going to fly into Reykjavik and drive until we can't."

"Are you going to be able to keep up?" Rowen asked. "That's not an easy trek."

"She's debating asking Crowley to take us further into the wilderness rather than hiking it if I insist on going along."

"So you just don't trust her on her own?"

Bobby was silent and Rowen realized he may have overstepped. His friend looked worried about something, but after the previous conversation, he didn't feel comfortable asking about it.

"Just afraid of what she may find. I don't want her facin' that alone."

"Want me to stay here or should I head home again?"

"It's up to you," Bobby said. "Maybe stay and see if you can narrow down another location for a few days, but if you ain't having any luck just head home."

"I'll take that under advisement."

Line Break

June 12, 2010

Dean woke up to something soft tickling under his nose. It was only knowing Castiel was in the room that stopped him from drawing his gun. He blinked awake slowly, staring for a moment at the soot-stained feathers that blocked his vision. There was a tiny bit of sunlight pouring in through the motel window, but beyond that all he could see was feathers. A weight shifting against his chest made him relax, and he gently pushed the feathers out of his face.

"Angels," Dean grumbled with a small smile.

Castiel's nose was pressed tightly against his neck, and Dean was reluctant to wake the angel. It was still strange to see him sleep, but he found it a bit endearing. Castiel's face was softer in the morning sun than any other time. The stress of all the shit they were going through seemed to melt off the angel when he finally gave in to rest. Dean ran a gentle hand through the messy black hair and Castiel groaned softly, tilting his head to look at him with sleepy blue eyes.

"Time?" the angel gruffly asked.

"Too damn early," Dean admitted. "But we need to pick up those ingredients and get back. Sam and Crowley should be returning with the witch tomorrow if everything went well."

Castiel hummed, running a hand down Dean's bare chest. The hunter could tell something was on the angel's mind but didn't ask. He'd found Castiel preferred to think through his thoughts before speaking. So he continued to run his fingers through the angel's soft hair, his other draped loosely around Castiel's naked waist. It would never cease to amaze Dean how easy it was to be with the angel, but he'd learned a long time ago not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

"You think Sam will be okay?" Castiel quietly asked.

"Honestly, and it kills me to say this," Dean sighed. "yes. Crowley seems to have a soft spot for Sam. Maybe it's the magic, maybe the bastard is still just looking out for himself, but I trust them to keep each other safe on a single mission."

"Perhaps I am just prejudiced," Castiel said. "Angels and demons...we were not meant to get along."

"Hey, preachin' to the choir here," Dean grinned.

A comfortable silence fell over them, and Dean shut his eyes, savoring it. Castiel's lips brushed his jaw and Dean hummed, tilting his head for the angel. A gentle kiss turned into soft nips and Dean growled.

"Keep that up and we'll be late."

"As you said, it's too damn early."

That was Dean's only warning before Castiel was on top of him. He couldn't help the small laugh that bubbled up in his chest. Somehow, despite the shit going on, he felt good. He'd cling to that feeling, and hope for once in his life it guided them out of this shit show in one piece.

The next update is Saturday, September 18, 2021

Author's Note: My mother passed away last week, and it's thrown a lot of things off. I'm taking a month off posting so I can get my head back on straight, and mentally regain some spoons. I hope you are well, and thank you so much for reading and being a part of this story.