And the Moment Lingers On - DCBB - 5/6
Part 5
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It’s Balthazar who first hears the footsteps, and it’s something of a miracle that he does, because he only just manages to haul the other’s prone off and under the bed, and to move himself safely across the room, before Lucifer swings open the door viciously. But at least the frown crossing his face and the anger lining his features tells him that Dean is safe, for now.
The older angel crosses around the room suspiciously as though he thinks there might be something hiding there, Dean, Cas thinks, heart skipping a beat, but it’s Balthazar they need to be more concerned about. But then the other is sitting down. Glaring.
Castiel doesn’t know if he should sit as well or move away, should invite whatever anger is coming or let the other deliver it in his own time. But it turns out Lucifer isn’t in the mood for his usual game of cat and mouse today.
“I know you helped him escape.” He says it without ceremony and with an absolute certainty that makes Cas’s blood run cold. “So it would be to your greatest advantage to tell me where he has hidden. And now.”
Lucifer’s fist bangs onto the wood and Castiel jumps back, flinching, especially when the other reaches for his side a moment later, unsheathing his sword with flourish. The edge catches the sunlight, mockingly beautiful. But deadly, he knows, always deadly.
He stays silent though, sees Balthazar stirring under the bed behind Lucifer, and takes a step back.
“I will not be made a fool of by an abomination and an ape. Do you understand me?” Lucifer rises from his seat and makes up the step that Cas took.
“I don’t know where he is.” He answers quietly, and watches the rage fill in the other’s eyes, the sword slashing out and landing against his carving of the square with a large thunk and Lucifer comes forward again.
“Where has he gone?” There’s barely controlled anger there, and he feels as though whatever restraint is there is about to be lost. Lucifer draws closer and the sword comes out again, tracing up his chest this time, lingering for a moment on the amulet that he’s taken to wearing, and then continues up to his neck.
“You don’t know where he’s gone? Are you, quite, quite, sure?” Lucifer’s lip is curling, but it’s the truth, he has no idea, does he? Not really. It’s not a lie. He couldn’t tell Lucifer where exactly Dean was even if wanted to. Not at this very moment.
“I don’t know,” He whispers, his heart racing, he sees Balthazar crawling out from under the bed, but no, no, that’s not going to help. He’s too weak and Lucifer, too powerful. He doesn’t want any more damage. They all have to get out of this whole and with Lucifer in the state he’s in… if he sees Balthazar right now, it’s going to be instant death. He can’t watch that.
But in that moment, as Cas hesitates, tries to warn Balthazar off moving without hinting to Lucifer that he’s there, the blade flicks down to the amulet again, and something shifts, he doesn’t quite understand what Lucifer sees in it, doesn’t think he could know that it’s Dean’s. Could he? The angel has barely seen Dean except in halting moments…to have noticed something this small, this unbearably unimportant…he couldn’t have… But Lucifer’s not even looking at it anymore, he tries to slow his heart beat and convince himself, tries to breathe.
“Well,” Lucifer smirks - his eyes warming unnaturally and the smile he bears is scarier than the glare. “I suppose it is no matter, because I know where his little hideout is.” Cas’s eyes veer up, wide and shocked. “We’re going to set a little surprise for them tonight, and I’m sure one of those pathetic little creatures will talk. By morning, they’ll all be dead.”
He drops his sword and reaches out to stroke a finger down Cas’s cheek, leaning in to whisper. “I hope you didn’t care for the creature.”
And then the hand swings out, catching Cas hard on the cheek, the man vanishing before the sound of the slap dies away.
His head is still bowed by the time Balthazar manages to make it scrambling to his feet, but he raises it despite the throbbing to give the other a grim smile, one to tell him that he’s okay, that he shouldn’t be standing at all. His mouth opens to say all of this, but what comes out in a rush instead is, “I have to warn Dean.” He’s scrambling around already, reaching for his cloak and the knife that he carves with, small, but it’s better than nothing. He has to get to Dean first, has to go now.
He expects maybe some kind of protest, that it’s dangerous, that he shouldn’t, but Balthazar only nods. “Yes, I think it’d be rather best if I flew us down, they all think I’m dead and I rather they keep - ”
“You’re not coming.” Castiel cuts him off. “You’re not well enough. You have to stay here,” He tries to make it sound logical, to be reasonable. But he’s already half succumbed, he doesn’t really wish to go alone, the part of him that was crushed by the festival still cringing away in fear at the thought of the outside world. He’s glad in this moment that Balthazar is many things, but reasonable not one of them.
Balthazar smiles at him, indulgently, golden wings spreading around him, around them both, reaching out and nudging against Cas, who smiles at the familiarity.
“I have quite missed your worrying, darling.”
--
It turns out it’s not an easy journey. They can’t fly after they land for fear of being spotted, and the twisting path takes them all the way out of the city, out to the farmlands. At first it had been him who’d been the problem; he’d almost had a panic attack as soon as they’d stepped into the city. Even with Balthazar’s calming presence, he’d flinched and frozen at every passerby. But now, now it’s Balthazar whom he has to keep half an eye on, the other’s breath becoming more and more labored as the sun climbs into the sky and starts beating down on them. He wants to suggest a rest or a break, but if Lucifer is attacking tonight, than they have to get there, and so far there’s no telling how far there is anymore. He wishes for a faster way, but all he has is the little map in the amulet and Dean’s assurance that he can find him if he needs. He has faith in the latter, but he’s not so sure about the former.
They cross yet another rickety bridge, the state of their surroundings becoming wilder as they travel, water rushing loudly underneath them. Again, he considers suggesting they stop, but doesn’t. Balthazar doesn’t voice it either and they keep walking, silence closing down on them as the day shifts.
An hour later the path becomes a forest and he sincerely hopes it’s the right one. He gives Balthazar another sidelong glance as the other almost stumbles over a tree root, but he bites his tongue and leads the way in.
The branches here block the sun, an eerie whisper seeming to carry through the woods. He feels uneasy, like he’s being watched, like he’s suddenly in the middle of one of his books, and not one that ends very well.
“Lovely place, he’s got.” Balthazar casts a wary eye around them as they step forward, looking for whatever the small rectangle on the map is supposed to be marking. The sound of his voice echoes loudly around, the forest rustling with sudden life at the disturbance and then quieting again.
They look at each - pausing, but Balthazar shakes his head and reaches for the map. “Come on.” His voice is quieter this time. “We’re almost there, let’s just find this…rectangle and be done with it.”
Cas nods and they trudge on.
--
For the longest time neither of them see anything, but then, without even realizing it Castiel steps into it. It’s small graveyard that’s almost invisible, even as they stand right before it, so overrun with greenery and vines that it looks just like its surrondings. The names on the graves long wiped away by wind and time.
A crack in the trees from far away makes them both freeze, but after a moment of waiting nothing appears, Cas isn’t sure if he’d rather go check to make absolutely sure that they haven’t been followed or if simply going on is the better solution, but it’s finally Balthazar who makes the decision, shrugging his shoulders and turning back to the graveyard, “What’d the map say again, darling?”
Cas frowns out at the woods for another moment or so, but turns his head back to the map. “It should be...” He frowns. “Here.”
“Here,” Balthazar repeats, “Well it doesn’t appear to be here.” He looks around him, “This is supposed to be where they all hideaway, hundreds of them, maybe thousands.” He looks up, “Unless they’re all living on trees.”
“Well there must be something,” Cas takes a step forward, examining one of the gravestones, should he push it? Or talk to it? That all seems ridiculous, but they are running out of options. The map marks this spot, unless they followed it wrong...“Something that we are missing.” He moves again and the ground feels a little odd beneath his feet, but he doesn’t think much of it until Balthazar whirls around from the tree he was examining, watching him, eyes narrowing.
“Step back, a little.” He says slowly and Cas wants to ask, but instead he just does it, and when he does, they both hear it this time, the sound of Cas’s shoes hitting against something that is almost certainly not soft grass. Balthazar looks at Cas and Cas looks at Balthazar and they both bend over to pull at the forest floor, which it turns out isn’t really soil at all, but some kind of a cloth that the grass has been allowed to grow over, packed earth filling in the slits and making it blend into the scenery.
Underneath there’s a metal grate and when Cas bends over to pull it up, his fingers trembling against the ring, it’s not locked and instead opens up to reveal a dusty set of stairs, torches burning along the way, their light flicking ominously into the darkness.
“Well,” Balthazar turns to Cas, a slight smile on his face. “It certainly appears there was something we were missing.” Cas huffs a little, and with that they both start the climb down.
The stairwell narrows and widens and then curves around sharply, Balthazar breathing hard by the time they finally reach the bottom. There they find a slightly wider room, empty stone walls on either side of them, with only one door at the other edge, shadows dancing from the firelight, a particularly intimidating kind of silence filling the space. The distinct feeling dancing inside of him that they are somewhere they are not supposed to be. But Dean gave him the map, he tries to assure himself, so this is okay. They must be going in the right direction. A shudder passes through him though, something, he’s sure, having just moved in the corner of his vision.
Balthazar looks over at him and then back at the corner and draws his sword, it sends the torchlight flickering around the room, but nothing seems to be moving anymore. Just them and the emptiness. Sword drawn, Balthazar moves to stand behind Castiel, his arm reaching around both of them to push the door open.
In front of them, there’s only darkness. Cas hesitates, but takes a step forwards anyway. This is the path, Dean is somewhere close, they have to find him.
It’s another fumbling half step in the dark before he hears the hiss of something and the flicker of a match appears briefly and then falls before he can push Balthazar away, tell him to get out of here. A glowing circle of flame shoots to life around their feet, too small. And after that, the room lights up, torches sparking to life from the walls up to the roof. In front of them stand hundreds of humans, dusty and dirty, their faces sharp, their bodies taut, ready for battle.
He wishes Balthazar’s sword was not still in his hands, but the other doesn’t seem inclined to put it away as he steps backwards into the center of the circle, the fire swirling menacingly around them.
Behind them there are houses built against the cave walls, shops below that, like a miniature city, in fact it’s almost a replica of the market square that lies beneath his window. And there’s a path that winds straight back, more and more of the same as far as he can see. They really do live here, the thought crosses his mind. But how many of them are there? How long will it take to get them all out and safe. Dean wouldn’t abandon his people.
“Well, well, well. What have we here? You boys get lost?” A man steps forward out of the crowd, there’s a blade glinting at his hip and Castiel can’t quite tell, but with the way Balthazar stiffens behind him, he’s willing to assume it can harm them. He throws a helpless look at the crowd, looking for Dean, but every face blends into the next. For a moment, a different crowd swims into his mind, and he starts to feel a little dizzy, memories of pain and taunts clouding his vision, even so - he swallows down the fear.
“We’ve come -” He starts, but the man’s sword is out before he can get another word out, blade pressed to his cheek, silencing him.
“We know why you’ve come.” He smiles, teeth bared, lips twisted. “Angels don’t just come strolling into our hideaway. And we don’t take kindly to birds that chirp too loud -”
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Balthazar interrupts and Cas cringes, the action drawing a tiny bit of blood. “Look we’re not spies, and if you’d just cease with the dramatics for a minute...”
“Dramatics,” The blade passes fluidly from one neck to the other, “That’s quite a statement to be making oh leader of the Guard.” The tip pokes forward, tipping Balthazar’s head back. “Don’t think I don’t know who my enemy is.” Their eyes lock, the man towering over the angel. “That I haven’t seen you riding at the side of his High and Mightiness. Tell me, do you know how many of us you’ve killed? Or do you just forget to keep track?”
It’s a revelation for Castiel, but Balthazar doesn’t deny, and he doesn’t look away. “Fifty four.” He tells the man coldly and the tip digs further into his neck.
“I say we kill them now, John.” Another voice drawls from behind the leader. “Angel freaks,” His eyes flit over Cas’s one wing and he snorts. “That one’s not even a whole one.”
“Well, we can’t let them live. But I’ve got some questions” The first answers back. “So we can get rid of this one, and keep the runt till we figure out how they got here, what they wanted.” Hard eyes fall back to Cas. “Doesn’t look like it’ll take much to get through to him. I’ll let you handle that Gordon.”
“With pleasure,” The man’s voice sends his stomach twisting into knots and his hand falls to the clench at his own knife, small as it is. But even with all of this, he has to tell them, he has to warn them. They aren’t the danger, but there’s about to be some. He has to get through before it’s too late and to do that, he needs someone who’ll listen.
“Dean.” He yells suddenly, uncaring that he sounds insane. The mumbling and whispering quiets suddenly. “Dean?”
John drops his sword to look at Cas suspiciously. “Dean?” He questions ferociously. “What do you want with my son?”
Next to him Balthazar snorts a little and mumbles, “Well it’s very good to meet you.” under his breath, but the man doesn’t seem to hear him.
“He gave me this,” The amulet hangs up from his fingers, “so that I could find him if I needed to and now I - “
“Where did you get that?” The medallion is snatched away from his fingers and he wants to grab for it back, but the fire stops him.
“Where did you steal this from?” John takes a step forward, leaning over the flames angrily, their faces almost touching.
“I told you,” He repeats, “Dean gave it to me. To find him.”
“I’ll give you another half a moment to breathe, so that you can tell me why on earth my son would ever lead two angels straight into -” The man’s eyes are furious and disbelieving, his shoulders set, hand shaking now.
Cas isn’t looking at John anymore though, but over his shoulder, relief crossing his face.
“Dad?” Dean sounds breathless, like he’s run a long way. “What the hell is going on?” And then he half turns, “Cas?” And a pause. “Balth?”
“Lucifer’s coming,” Cas blurts out, finally just needing to say the words. “He knows the way, he’s found this place, he -”
“Had no idea at all,” A silky voice cuts in and swarms of guards flood into the room, “until you so kindly led him here.” The angel looks around him, amused as human after human draws their swords. “I knew if I let you flutter long enough you’d fly away home. Well, I hoped, anyway, when I saw that pretty little necklace. And here we are.”
--
The next couple minutes, or maybe it’s hours, pass in a blur of fire and blood for Dean. One moment, he’s looking at Cas, shocked but pleased, and the next Lucifer is at their doorstep. Everything they’ve ever prepared for crashing down on them all at once. But not amount of preparing could have gotten them ready for this. The angels are trained and there’s too many of them, he doesn’t even have to see the haunted expression on his father’s face to know that.
He grabs a sword from a fallen guard somewhere in the fray. But they’ll fight till the last man, he knows that much. Ducks around, slashes out, catches one of their sides. He’s not even paying attention to whom he’s cutting down anymore as his home starts to burn around him.
“Take them alive.” He hears the roar from somewhere, “This is going to be a lesson.”
Lucifer, it suddenly occurs to him, in an irrational burst of inspiration, if he could only kill Lucifer, maybe they would all stand a chance in this. Somehow he knows that would probably get him executed, even if he succeeded, but he finds he almost doesn’t care. It all stems from the Judge, he knows it does. Things were never like this before the angel was granted power over the city.
They were never seen as lesser. He was young, but he can remember.
And somehow in the midst of battle, it seems the clear path, it seems the only path.
The angel is standing removed and unguarded, still at the doorway, watching the fighting unfold in front of him. Thin lips twisting hungrily for violence. It couldn’t be so hard, could it? To sneak up there and dig his sword into the other’s side. He dodges a blow sent his way and takes another step forward.
He knows he should try and find his dad, or Bobby, hell even Gordon, someone more experienced, someone who’d be less likely to fuck it up, but he doesn’t know where they are and he has to do this, he has to try.
And it’s a sign of the other’s damn arrogance, his pride, that he doesn’t even look down until Dean is inches from him, until the sword has almost landed where it needs to go, but at the last second, a burst of energy sends him flying against the nearest wall.
“Well, well, a hero again, aren’t we Dean?”
He gets up, only to get slammed back down again, someone giving a worried shout from behind him.
“Do you really think you can save them?” Lucifer is above him now, in a blink of an eye. “Save them?” He laughs mirthlessly,
“You’re the one who brought this down on them.” A sharp kick rattles through Dean’s ribs.
“No,” He gasps, “I didn’t.” He can’t have. His eyes flash to the burning buildings, to Risa on her knees and Ash in chains backed up against the wall.
“You did,” Lucifer smiles, “You trusted pretty little Cassy with your secrets and he led me straight here. He’s mine you know?”
Another kick shoots out, but Dean rolls out of the way just in time, struggling to move himself back up onto his feet. “He always has been. And he’ll never be strong enough to be otherwise.”
Dean’s eyes flash through the crowd, the holy fire’s gone out, but it only takes him a moment to find Cas in the crowd, Balthazar to his right, protective. He wonders for a moment what happened there. “He didn’t mean to.” He grinds out, and he can’t blame Cas for this, even though the guilt sinks heavily on his own shoulders now. It’s true, what Lucifer said, he’d been stupid, careless, and they’re all paying now. He gave away the secret, he opened the door, that’s on him. His sword slashes through the air but Lucifer catches his wrist easily.
“Intent,” Lucifer says softly. “Intent is a funny thing, Dean. And it forgives you of nothing.” He throws Dean to the ground again, the man landing with a groan. Weak.
“But don’t worry,” Lucifer yanks Dean up from the ground, turning him around to face the battle, and there’s no mistaking the way the tide is turning, bodies strewn over the ground and hundreds more are alive, bound in chains, being herded into the line. “I’ll absolve you.” The other’s breath scatters across the back of his neck, sends shivers down his spine. “Tomorrow, you can be the first to burn.”
--
“You should have just run. Should have left me.” Balthazar’s voice cuts across the small cell, breaks the deadened silence.
Dean rolls his eyes. “Well this isn’t your fault, so don’t you go try taking credit.” There’s hollowness to it though, he’s going to die tomorrow and everyone he loves with him. He doesn’t protest though when the angel creeps slowly nearer, rests a head on his shoulder.
“I did tell you, we were going to die, either way. Though it seems,” There’s something tired in the other’s voice again. “Then would have been preferable.” Another pause. And then from out of nowhere. “I’ve known Cassy for a very long time, Dean.”
If it’s supposed to be some kind of explanation, it sucks. But the tone of voice is enough for him to put a few pieces together. “And you’re madly in love with him.” Dean says flatly, whatever, it had just been some harmless flirtation, a friend maybe, some kind of chemistry, he’s not even positive which one he’s thinking about.
“Something of the sort,” Balthazar snorts. “Are you?” And the way he says it makes it sound like some kind of invitation, an offer of sorts.
“We’re going to die tomorrow.” He reminds the angel curtly, turning his head away, too tired for riddles.
“Ah, and so what better time."
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