Means Nothing Without You - Chapter 6
Chapter Six: Lay it on the Line
Tumultuous metaphysical winds buffeted Castiel's wings as he fought to keep the journey back to Earth as smooth as possible. He carried precious cargo. Dean and Sam's souls reacted very differently to the flight, though it lasted less than a minute in their perception of time. Dean shouted and whooped as though enjoying a carnival ride. Sam screamed, fear shaking his entire form no matter how Castiel attempted to reassure him.
It was a very loud trip.
When the portal cast them out into an unknown forest, the quiet was jarring. Frantic, hushed voices broke the stillness. "Is something out there?" a female voice whispered.
"I don't know. Did you hear something?" her male companion answered. Castiel stepped toward their tent, nestled between two large evergreens. Purgatory had disoriented him. He needed to regain his balance within the spheres. These young humans could tell him where he was, and, centered, he could then fly to Bobby's.
The low buzz of a sliding zipper signaled the tent opening. "Holy crap!" The young man fell back into the tent, the harsh beam of his flashlight dancing wildly.
"Where am I?" Castiel asked.
"Oh god please don't kill us you can have whatever you want man we won't tell anyone I swear-"
"Where?!" Castiel interrupted the boy's babbling.
"The 100-Mile Wilderness," the girl squeaked. “In Maine.”
Castiel turned his attention to her and inclined his head. "Thank you." To avoid further trauma for the pair, he backed into the darkness of the woods before taking flight toward South Dakota.
Sam did not enjoy their second flight any more than he had their first. His soul shook so hard Castiel winced in discomfort as he landed.
We're okay, Sammy, Dean tried to reassure his brother. It's just Cas. I know he's gigantic like this, but he's still Cas. We're safe with him. His efforts had no effect.
He cannot hear you right now, Dean, Castiel told the hunter.
Dean clung to Castiel's grace, shivering. Castiel stroked the hunter's soul to assuage his worry. I believe the wall that Death erected to protect Sam's mind from his memories of the cage has eroded. Michael will help.
Castiel prayed that last part wasn't a lie.
Bobby's house stood vacant when Castiel landed. He leaned back against the kitchen sink - where a lifetime ago he’d warned Dean that Lilith was breaking the seals to Lucifer’s cage - to wait for the older hunter’s return. Before long, between being cocooned in Castiel's grace and Dean's ministrations, Sam's soul calmed to the point of lucidity.
Cas, you're colossal, he announced, naked awe radiating from his soul.
A smile snuck onto the angel's face. My true form is the size of your Chrysler Building.
Castiel enjoyed a few moments of peace before the Winchesters proved they were, in fact, normal human brothers.
Dean, quit moving around! You keep knocking into me. Sam complained.
Then get out of my way, Sammy. I'm working.
Castiel frowned. Working? Dean, what do you mean?
Dean’s soul swelled and sagged in an equivalent of a shrug. I dunno. Cleaning, I guess.
Cleaning what? Sam asked.
Stuff. Dean replied. Everything. I don't know. I feel like I'm made of Scrubbing Bubbles or something and I just need to get everywhere or something bad will happen. His voice turned petulant. Just leave me alone for a little bit. This is hard.
Placing a hand to his chest, Castiel observed Dean’s movements deep inside his grace. Dean's soul swirled around, brushing past as much grace as he could. At first, Castiel thought Dean was trying to absorb the power of his grace, but no... his essence passed through Dean's soul like a sieve. It was only when Castiel noticed what was missing that he realized what Dean had done.
The poisoned darkness from Ishtar's knife was gone. The spell that kept it at bay had disintegrated when they left Purgatory, and yet Castiel felt no ill effects. "How is this possible?" he marveled.
The growl and crunch of gravel as Bobby's 1971 Chevrolet Chevelle pulled up cut Castiel’s musing short. Two doors slammed. Bobby's front door opened to reveal the grizzled hunter and a step behind him, Michael, still wearing Dean’s vessel.
Castiel straightened. "Hello, brother."
Michael inclined his head. "Castiel. I'm glad to see you've made it back safely."
"Where're the two idiots who went in after you?" Bobby demanded. "If they didn't make it out in one piece I'm gonna take it outta your hide."
Castiel smiled and gestured to his chest. "They are with me." He looked to Michael. "Though Sam is not well."
Michael's brow furrowed, a look of confusion made familiar by Dean's face. "What is the matter?"
Castiel explained quickly, then made his request of Heaven's last archangel. "Sam needs to return to his body, and soon. Can you rebuild the wall in his mind? Will you help him?"
Michael considered for a moment.
Bobby elbowed him in the side. "If you can't even do this then what the hell use is being an archangel, anyway?"
Michael frowned, but nodded. "While I have no doubt that Death is a better architect than I will ever be, I will do what I can to fortify his remedy. I will do so as often as necessary during Sam's lifetime. I suspect one day his mind will be strong enough to create its own defenses."
Castiel breathed a sigh of relief. "That day may come sooner than you think, Michael. Sam's strength surprises many."
"I don't doubt it." The archangel gestured toward the basement door. "Sam's body is in the panic room. Shall we?"
Castiel led the way down the stairs. The steps creaked as Michael and Bobby followed.
Though Dean held on to his brother as long as he could, Sam returned to his body readily, eager to be back in familiar territory. Dean called out as Sam slipped away and Castiel gently closed the connection between them.
Bye Sam! He sounded bereft.
***
Sam opened his eyes. He felt good, surprisingly so. Wait... Why was he on the cot in Bobby's panic room?
"Welcome back, son." Bobby's gruff voice brought everything crashing back.
Sam pushed himself upright. Bobby, Cas and Dean - no, Michael - hovered nearby, various degrees of concern on their faces. Sam rolled off the cot and staggered to the desk chair as quickly as he could. He didn't exactly have good memories of lying on that thing. He eased himself into the chair, muscles protesting his earlier speed. He wasn't sore, exactly, but everything felt stiff.
Sam remembered finding Cas and Ishtar, and Cas going ballistic and pushing him off the ledge. He remembered Benny pulling him back to safety, but then everything blurred. "What happened?"
"Purgatory eroded the wall Death built to protect your mind," Michael responded. "I was able to repair it after Castiel reintegrated your soul into your body."
Sam blinked. He did feel a lot better, more sure of the reality of the world around him. He met Michael's gaze. "Thanks."
The archangel nodded. "You are welcome."
Sam looked back at Cas and Bobby. "What about Dean? And Benny?"
"Who's Benny?" Bobby squinted at him.
"Dean is still with me, as you were a few minutes ago," Castiel said, touching his chest. "Benny..." He dropped his gaze. "He didn’t make it."
"Oh." Sam ran a hand through his hair. While he and the vampire hadn't gotten off to a great start, Sam had started to think of him as a friend. Now Benny would never find out for sure what happened to the woman he loved or avenge his own murder.
The shrill clangs of Bobby's landline shattered the moment's somber silence. The phone rang, and rang, and rang...
"Make it stop doing that," Michael ordered.
Muttering to himself, Bobby stomped upstairs. A moment later his irritable "Whaddya want?!" drifted into the panic room.
Sam shook his head and looked back at the angels. "So, what happens next?" He focused on Michael. "Are you going back to Heaven so Dean can-" he gestured from Cas to Michael "-be Dean again?"
Michael hesitated, but Cas answered before Sam could press him. "I will return Dean to his body as soon as possible, but I need an answer from my brother, first."
"An answer to what?" Sam asked.
"Yes, Castiel." Michael turned to face the other angel. "What is your question?"
Cas pointed at the hollow of his throat, where - beneath the newly mended trench coat and dress shirt - the point of Ishtar's black blade had emerged when she stabbed him in the back. "Ishtar's knife was laced with poison. I could feel it polluting my grace. She cast a spell to prevent it from killing me while we were in Purgatory, because she wanted to use me to escape again." His hands fell to his sides. "While she held me captive there, she told me the blade she struck you with was poisoned, too. How did you survive? How did Dean?"
That was news to Sam. He held his breath, hoping they hadn't escaped Purgatory just to have Dean die… again.
Michael's brow furrowed. "I do remember feeling more pain than I expected when she stabbed this vessel." His eyes closed for a few moments and an expression of intense concentration stole over his features. It was a face Dean usually reserved for memorizing Latin exorcisms and women's phone numbers. "Dean's soul must have filtered out all impurities," Michael continued. "I can feel traces of his touch lingering in my grace, just as I can see him in yours now." He lifted his head and opened his eyes. "Father has gifted my true vessel with a soul that not only gives power to one of Heaven's greatest weapons, but also serves as an alembic for celestial energy."
The two angels looked awed. Sam raised an eyebrow. "You mean Dean's soul is like the world's most efficient liver?" He snorted. "That's ironic considering what he puts his through."
Michael frowned at Sam's levity, but Cas gave him his signature half-smile before turning back to the archangel. "Will you return to Heaven now, brother?"
Again Michael hesitated. Sam stood and approached him. "You're going to give my brother his body back, Michael. You're on our side, right?"
"Of course I am," he replied, offended. "I will never again doubt my role as a protector and defender of humanity." He paused, then straightened. "Which is why I cannot, in good faith, leave my true vessel. You may yet have dire need of my aid."
"That's bullshit! You can't squat in there indefinitely, just in case something bad happens." Sam jabbed his index finger into Michael's chest. "This doesn't belong to you!"
"Neither does it belong to you." Michael's calm demeanor only served to piss Sam off more, but before he could come up with a better argument than "fuck you" Bobby tromped back into the panic room.
"Sorry to interrupt," he drawled, eyes going from Michael, to Castiel, and finally landing on Sam. "Hunter contact of mine near where you lot popped back onto this grungy plane of existence just called with great news.” Sam tensed at the obvious sarcasm. “The whole area is crawling with shapeshifters that bleed black goo, don't die, and have a helluva lotta teeth,” Bobby continued. “And the best part is, Ishtar's with ‘em."
Michael turned to Sam. "See?"
***
Water.
Cold, dark, suffocating.
Ishtar's body spasmed, and she discovered she could move. Feet, knees, elbows, hands touched the muddy ground. The crown of her head broke the surface and she gasped in breath when her mouth and nose hit the cool air. Breath steaming, she crawled farther from the frigid water's grip. Clear water dripped from her hair, down her nose and her shaking arms.
Polished black shoes filled her vision. She raised her eyes. Far above her, he grinned, showing a row of gleaming white teeth. "Hello again. You remember me, I'm sure." He flicked an invisible piece of dust off of one cuff. "My name's Richard Roman now, but you can call me Dick." With one foot, he forced her chin up, exposing her throat and arching her neck painfully. "I'm the one in charge, now."
Ishtar trembled.
Tumultuous metaphysical winds buffeted Castiel's wings as he fought to keep the journey back to Earth as smooth as possible. He carried precious cargo. Dean and Sam's souls reacted very differently to the flight, though it lasted less than a minute in their perception of time. Dean shouted and whooped as though enjoying a carnival ride. Sam screamed, fear shaking his entire form no matter how Castiel attempted to reassure him.
It was a very loud trip.
When the portal cast them out into an unknown forest, the quiet was jarring. Frantic, hushed voices broke the stillness. "Is something out there?" a female voice whispered.
"I don't know. Did you hear something?" her male companion answered. Castiel stepped toward their tent, nestled between two large evergreens. Purgatory had disoriented him. He needed to regain his balance within the spheres. These young humans could tell him where he was, and, centered, he could then fly to Bobby's.
The low buzz of a sliding zipper signaled the tent opening. "Holy crap!" The young man fell back into the tent, the harsh beam of his flashlight dancing wildly.
"Where am I?" Castiel asked.
"Oh god please don't kill us you can have whatever you want man we won't tell anyone I swear-"
"Where?!" Castiel interrupted the boy's babbling.
"The 100-Mile Wilderness," the girl squeaked. “In Maine.”
Castiel turned his attention to her and inclined his head. "Thank you." To avoid further trauma for the pair, he backed into the darkness of the woods before taking flight toward South Dakota.
Sam did not enjoy their second flight any more than he had their first. His soul shook so hard Castiel winced in discomfort as he landed.
We're okay, Sammy, Dean tried to reassure his brother. It's just Cas. I know he's gigantic like this, but he's still Cas. We're safe with him. His efforts had no effect.
He cannot hear you right now, Dean, Castiel told the hunter.
Dean clung to Castiel's grace, shivering. Castiel stroked the hunter's soul to assuage his worry. I believe the wall that Death erected to protect Sam's mind from his memories of the cage has eroded. Michael will help.
Castiel prayed that last part wasn't a lie.
Bobby's house stood vacant when Castiel landed. He leaned back against the kitchen sink - where a lifetime ago he’d warned Dean that Lilith was breaking the seals to Lucifer’s cage - to wait for the older hunter’s return. Before long, between being cocooned in Castiel's grace and Dean's ministrations, Sam's soul calmed to the point of lucidity.
Cas, you're colossal, he announced, naked awe radiating from his soul.
A smile snuck onto the angel's face. My true form is the size of your Chrysler Building.
Castiel enjoyed a few moments of peace before the Winchesters proved they were, in fact, normal human brothers.
Dean, quit moving around! You keep knocking into me. Sam complained.
Then get out of my way, Sammy. I'm working.
Castiel frowned. Working? Dean, what do you mean?
Dean’s soul swelled and sagged in an equivalent of a shrug. I dunno. Cleaning, I guess.
Cleaning what? Sam asked.
Stuff. Dean replied. Everything. I don't know. I feel like I'm made of Scrubbing Bubbles or something and I just need to get everywhere or something bad will happen. His voice turned petulant. Just leave me alone for a little bit. This is hard.
Placing a hand to his chest, Castiel observed Dean’s movements deep inside his grace. Dean's soul swirled around, brushing past as much grace as he could. At first, Castiel thought Dean was trying to absorb the power of his grace, but no... his essence passed through Dean's soul like a sieve. It was only when Castiel noticed what was missing that he realized what Dean had done.
The poisoned darkness from Ishtar's knife was gone. The spell that kept it at bay had disintegrated when they left Purgatory, and yet Castiel felt no ill effects. "How is this possible?" he marveled.
The growl and crunch of gravel as Bobby's 1971 Chevrolet Chevelle pulled up cut Castiel’s musing short. Two doors slammed. Bobby's front door opened to reveal the grizzled hunter and a step behind him, Michael, still wearing Dean’s vessel.
Castiel straightened. "Hello, brother."
Michael inclined his head. "Castiel. I'm glad to see you've made it back safely."
"Where're the two idiots who went in after you?" Bobby demanded. "If they didn't make it out in one piece I'm gonna take it outta your hide."
Castiel smiled and gestured to his chest. "They are with me." He looked to Michael. "Though Sam is not well."
Michael's brow furrowed, a look of confusion made familiar by Dean's face. "What is the matter?"
Castiel explained quickly, then made his request of Heaven's last archangel. "Sam needs to return to his body, and soon. Can you rebuild the wall in his mind? Will you help him?"
Michael considered for a moment.
Bobby elbowed him in the side. "If you can't even do this then what the hell use is being an archangel, anyway?"
Michael frowned, but nodded. "While I have no doubt that Death is a better architect than I will ever be, I will do what I can to fortify his remedy. I will do so as often as necessary during Sam's lifetime. I suspect one day his mind will be strong enough to create its own defenses."
Castiel breathed a sigh of relief. "That day may come sooner than you think, Michael. Sam's strength surprises many."
"I don't doubt it." The archangel gestured toward the basement door. "Sam's body is in the panic room. Shall we?"
Castiel led the way down the stairs. The steps creaked as Michael and Bobby followed.
Though Dean held on to his brother as long as he could, Sam returned to his body readily, eager to be back in familiar territory. Dean called out as Sam slipped away and Castiel gently closed the connection between them.
Bye Sam! He sounded bereft.
***
Sam opened his eyes. He felt good, surprisingly so. Wait... Why was he on the cot in Bobby's panic room?
"Welcome back, son." Bobby's gruff voice brought everything crashing back.
Sam pushed himself upright. Bobby, Cas and Dean - no, Michael - hovered nearby, various degrees of concern on their faces. Sam rolled off the cot and staggered to the desk chair as quickly as he could. He didn't exactly have good memories of lying on that thing. He eased himself into the chair, muscles protesting his earlier speed. He wasn't sore, exactly, but everything felt stiff.
Sam remembered finding Cas and Ishtar, and Cas going ballistic and pushing him off the ledge. He remembered Benny pulling him back to safety, but then everything blurred. "What happened?"
"Purgatory eroded the wall Death built to protect your mind," Michael responded. "I was able to repair it after Castiel reintegrated your soul into your body."
Sam blinked. He did feel a lot better, more sure of the reality of the world around him. He met Michael's gaze. "Thanks."
The archangel nodded. "You are welcome."
Sam looked back at Cas and Bobby. "What about Dean? And Benny?"
"Who's Benny?" Bobby squinted at him.
"Dean is still with me, as you were a few minutes ago," Castiel said, touching his chest. "Benny..." He dropped his gaze. "He didn’t make it."
"Oh." Sam ran a hand through his hair. While he and the vampire hadn't gotten off to a great start, Sam had started to think of him as a friend. Now Benny would never find out for sure what happened to the woman he loved or avenge his own murder.
The shrill clangs of Bobby's landline shattered the moment's somber silence. The phone rang, and rang, and rang...
"Make it stop doing that," Michael ordered.
Muttering to himself, Bobby stomped upstairs. A moment later his irritable "Whaddya want?!" drifted into the panic room.
Sam shook his head and looked back at the angels. "So, what happens next?" He focused on Michael. "Are you going back to Heaven so Dean can-" he gestured from Cas to Michael "-be Dean again?"
Michael hesitated, but Cas answered before Sam could press him. "I will return Dean to his body as soon as possible, but I need an answer from my brother, first."
"An answer to what?" Sam asked.
"Yes, Castiel." Michael turned to face the other angel. "What is your question?"
Cas pointed at the hollow of his throat, where - beneath the newly mended trench coat and dress shirt - the point of Ishtar's black blade had emerged when she stabbed him in the back. "Ishtar's knife was laced with poison. I could feel it polluting my grace. She cast a spell to prevent it from killing me while we were in Purgatory, because she wanted to use me to escape again." His hands fell to his sides. "While she held me captive there, she told me the blade she struck you with was poisoned, too. How did you survive? How did Dean?"
That was news to Sam. He held his breath, hoping they hadn't escaped Purgatory just to have Dean die… again.
Michael's brow furrowed. "I do remember feeling more pain than I expected when she stabbed this vessel." His eyes closed for a few moments and an expression of intense concentration stole over his features. It was a face Dean usually reserved for memorizing Latin exorcisms and women's phone numbers. "Dean's soul must have filtered out all impurities," Michael continued. "I can feel traces of his touch lingering in my grace, just as I can see him in yours now." He lifted his head and opened his eyes. "Father has gifted my true vessel with a soul that not only gives power to one of Heaven's greatest weapons, but also serves as an alembic for celestial energy."
The two angels looked awed. Sam raised an eyebrow. "You mean Dean's soul is like the world's most efficient liver?" He snorted. "That's ironic considering what he puts his through."
Michael frowned at Sam's levity, but Cas gave him his signature half-smile before turning back to the archangel. "Will you return to Heaven now, brother?"
Again Michael hesitated. Sam stood and approached him. "You're going to give my brother his body back, Michael. You're on our side, right?"
"Of course I am," he replied, offended. "I will never again doubt my role as a protector and defender of humanity." He paused, then straightened. "Which is why I cannot, in good faith, leave my true vessel. You may yet have dire need of my aid."
"That's bullshit! You can't squat in there indefinitely, just in case something bad happens." Sam jabbed his index finger into Michael's chest. "This doesn't belong to you!"
"Neither does it belong to you." Michael's calm demeanor only served to piss Sam off more, but before he could come up with a better argument than "fuck you" Bobby tromped back into the panic room.
"Sorry to interrupt," he drawled, eyes going from Michael, to Castiel, and finally landing on Sam. "Hunter contact of mine near where you lot popped back onto this grungy plane of existence just called with great news.” Sam tensed at the obvious sarcasm. “The whole area is crawling with shapeshifters that bleed black goo, don't die, and have a helluva lotta teeth,” Bobby continued. “And the best part is, Ishtar's with ‘em."
Michael turned to Sam. "See?"
***
Water.
Cold, dark, suffocating.
Ishtar's body spasmed, and she discovered she could move. Feet, knees, elbows, hands touched the muddy ground. The crown of her head broke the surface and she gasped in breath when her mouth and nose hit the cool air. Breath steaming, she crawled farther from the frigid water's grip. Clear water dripped from her hair, down her nose and her shaking arms.
Polished black shoes filled her vision. She raised her eyes. Far above her, he grinned, showing a row of gleaming white teeth. "Hello again. You remember me, I'm sure." He flicked an invisible piece of dust off of one cuff. "My name's Richard Roman now, but you can call me Dick." With one foot, he forced her chin up, exposing her throat and arching her neck painfully. "I'm the one in charge, now."
Ishtar trembled.