Means Nothing Without You - Chapter 8
Chapter 8: Welcome to the Jungle
Four leviathan surged toward Michael, mouths gaping to display rows of razor-sharp teeth. Michael dodged, rolled, and sprung to his feet, blade in hand. He spun and sliced in one smooth motion, and his sword severed the heads off the two enemies nearest to him. Dean's body knew fighting well, and it moved readily to Michael's will. Michael had not taken many vessels in his life - he preferred to do battle in his own form - but he saw now why Dean was meant for him. They fit.
The two remaining leviathan backed up a pace, assessing. Beyond them, Castiel fought two leviathan of his own as he defended Garth, the outmatched hunter who'd called Bobby for backup and alerted them to the leviathans' location. Michael refocused on his own opponents, confident in Castiel's abilities. The leviathan shifted, strafing away from one another. They're gonna come at us from the sides, Dean warned. Michael trusted the hunter's instincts. He reversed his grip on his sword, facing the point down instead of out.
The leviathans attacked, attempting to flank him just as Dean predicted. Pivoting at just the right moment, Michael drove the point of his blade through the left eye of the leviathan on his right, then continued his spin and caught the other under the chin with the hilt. With a flick of the wrist, the stunned leviathan's head fell to the ground. An instant later his fellow met the same fate. Michael straightened and looked up.
Castiel swung his blade, removing the head of the leviathan facing him. Behind him, though, a fallen leviathan with a hole in its throat from Castiel's sword rose stealthily to its feet. Cas! Dean cried. In an eye blink, Michael stood behind Castiel's would-be assailant. He dispatched it with a single swing of his sword.
Dean reveled in the violence, exhilaration and satisfaction billowing out from his soul. Michael's own elation mingled with his vessel’s as they stood victorious over their enemies.
"Wow!" Garth's awed exclamation broke the silence. "Thanks, Dean." The scrawny hunter climbed to his feet as the angels put up their swords. "Bobby said you were the bee’s knees, but holy cow! I've never seen moves quite like that before."
Michael glanced at the small man before examining their surroundings. They had landed in a small copse of trees near several large industrial buildings. "What were they after?" he asked. The rest of the sparse northern forest surrounding them was devoid of human structures, save for a few paved access roads.
"I don't know if they were after anything," Garth said. "I tracked them here after I saw them-" he gulped. "After they ate some poor soul at the gas station a few miles back. I just happened to be driving by. I didn't know what sort of critter they were, so I called Bobby."
"It is well you did, or you would be dead," Michael said.
Garth frowned. "You don't seem much like Bobby described you, Dean. You feeling okay?"
Michael looked at him. "I am not Dean Winchester."
Garth's eyes widened and he stepped back, fumbling in his jacket. Great, now you spooked him, Dean said. He's probably going for the holy water.
Castiel stepped forward and touched Garth's shoulder. "Did Bobby tell you about me?"
Garth nodded. "Sure did, and I gotta say, it's an honor. I mean, my gran always told me to listen for angels, but I just thought she was crazy 'til Bobby called me last year and told me you guys were really real." Oh great, a fanboy, Dean snarked. He's even worse than Sammy.
"Then trust me when I say that Dean is well and Michael-" Cas nodded toward his brother, "-means you no harm. Now please, tell us everything you can remember about the leviathan."
"Well... Like I said, I was tailing them, so I didn't get much. I did hear one of them on the phone with the boss, though, before they found my hiding spot. That was right before you two showed up."
"How do you know it was their boss?" Michael asked.
Garth scrunched up his face. "Well, the first thing he said when he picked up the phone was 'Hi boss.'"
Dude, you pissed him off by asking a question that made it seem like you don't think he can do his job, Dean explained, sounding frustrated. Michael inclined his head toward Garth. "Apologies for the interruption. Please continue."
Garth put his hands in his pockets. "Well, it sounded like they were stepping up their timeline. Most of the conversation I could hear was 'yessir' or 'nosir,' but the few full sentences he did get out were excuses for not having something ready for shipment. I'm not sure what, but they did talk about a medical research center in Nevada." He shrugged. "I didn't catch anything else."
Nevada, huh? Dean mused. Big state to just wander through looking for big-mouths. We should see if Sam can scrounge up a smaller target.
Michael looked at Castiel. "Dean thinks we should contact Sam and Bobby and request they divert some of their efforts to finding more information about this medical research center. Do you agree?" Aw. You're learning democracy. Michael chose to ignore Dean’s comment.
Castiel nodded. "Yes. I will drop Garth off near his vehicle and then call Sam. What will you do?"
Michael looked at the largest building of the small industrial area off to their right. "Dean and I will investigate why that building is the only one in this area with no one inside it."
You can tell that from here? Dean asked, skeptical.
Angels can sense life in all its forms, especially sentient forms, Michael explained. An angel could tell you the exact human and monster population of any city. An archangel could tell you how many animals, birds, fish, and insects lived there as well.
Dean didn't have a response for that.
"I will rejoin you soon, then," Castiel said, placing one hand on Garth's shoulder and departing.
A moment later, Michael alighted directly inside the front entrance of the vacant building. The lights were off, but his grace augmented Dean's eyesight. They would have no problem searching.
So, what exactly are we looking for, here? Dean asked.
"Anything that will tell us why that group of leviathan was traveling here." Their trajectory and this building's vacancy made it their most logical destination. Dean did not question the assumption, which Michael took as agreement. They started their search on the ground floor and worked their way up through the deserted building. Michael searched with his grace and senses that Dean did not have, leaving his vessel to focus on sights, sounds, and smells.
As they ascended the stairwell toward the third floor, Dean jostled against Michael's grace. Can I ask you a question?
Curious, Michael paused his investigation. "Of course."
Dean hesitated. Michael waited. When we killed those leviathan back there, I enjoyed it, Dean admitted. Michael tilted his head. "And? What is your question?"
I haven't felt like that since Purgatory, and I want more of it, Dean spilled out. Purgatory... Down there things made so much sense. Some stuff was fucked up, sure, but the fighting? It felt so pure. Everything up there was fair game. I didn't feel guilty about any of it. How much I enjoyed the fighting, the killing... It scares me sometimes. Dean gathered his courage. I guess my question is, how can a killer like me possibly be the Righteous Man you and Cas seem so convinced I am? How can I be the true vessel for Heaven's General? It just doesn’t make sense.
Dean’s confession reverberated through Michael’s grace like Revelation. Finally understood. They fit together because he and his vessel shared the struggle to define their worth outside of their prowess as warriors, and Dean did so without an innate assurance of God's blessing and love. Michael knew his own worthiness because he knew that his Father created him to be militant. Dean had no such faith.
He compressed his grace around the human's soul for a moment, offering support. "You are a warrior, Dean, a soldier," he tried to explain. "Fighting is a part of who you are, and always will be, but it is only a part. If there is anything I have learned in the short time I've known you, it's that there is far more to you than your abilities as a hunter."
Dean remained silent for a moment, his soul shivering in Michael's hold as he digested the angel's words. Thanks, Mike.
They searched the third floor in companionable silence.
The fourth and final floor contained just three offices and a single, small storeroom. It and the two smaller offices contained nothing of interest. The door to the large office was locked. That’s either a good sign or a really bad one, Dean commented. Michael reached out hand to force the door, but Dean protested. Wait! If you bust it down they'll know someone was in here snooping. Let me pick it.
Michael relented, and drew himself as far back as he could within Dean. No matter how small he made himself, though, Dean could not reach out far enough to control his limbs. Damn it! The hunter cursed. Take the wheel. I'll have to talk you through it.
The process was annoyingly slow, but Michael understood the value in leaving no trace of their investigation. Finally, the lock clicked. The expansive office featured a single large mahogany desk with two metal guest chairs facing it, two bookshelves, and a single unlit floor lamp.
Michael glanced at each bookshelf, but saw nothing noteworthy. At Dean's urging, they sorted through the small stack of folders on the desk, but discovered nothing except order forms and invoices for construction materials, similar to what they'd found elsewhere in the building. Michael began to doubt his suspicions.
Check the drawers, Dean insisted.
The first two contain only employee evaluation forms and vacation requests. The third was locked. Jackpot! Dean crowed, and once again coached Michael through the lock-picking.
The locked drawer held a single rolled-up bundle of papers. Michael spread them out across the desk, revealing an architectural diagram, a blueprint. On the left side, marked as the entrance, were waiting rooms with television sets, couches and other amenities. Moving to the right, Michael saw the outlines of showers and other facilities, followed by a long hallway. The hallway turned a 90-degree corner at the edge of the building. The room it led into was large, had only one entrance, and was marked "Butchery." A conveyor belt led further into the facility from there.
Oh my god, Dean breathed, horror spreading through his soul. They're building a meat-packing plant for people.
Michael frowned. "Humans are more intelligent than this, and most value their lives above nearly all else. They would not walk so willingly to their demise."
Dean shifted inside him. They would if they didn't know it was coming. If they went there thinking they were safe... Those first rooms look like fancy hotel lobbies.
"But why come here in the first place?" Michael asked.
I don't know, but at least now we know part of their plan, which is more than we knew before. Plus, now we have an idea of their timeline.
"How so?"
None of the construction contracts we found were billed as completed, Dean explained. They're still in the planning stages, thank god.
Michael straightened and re-rolled the thin diagrams. "What troubles me most is that Ishtar remains with the leviathan, but I cannot discern her role in this plan." He returned the blueprints to the desk drawer and closed it. "She is not one to wait and plan, so what use do the leviathan have for her?"
Well, they're not keeping her around for her personality, Dean quipped. Either way, at least we know how to stop her.
"We do?" Michael knew of no weapon effective against her, save for the Elhyim Yad, which they had already determined they could not use.
Sure, Dean replied. With Ellie out of commission, we'll just have to stab her with her own knife.
Michael frowned. "You think that will work?"
Sam found something in Purgatory that looked exactly like the black knives she used and when he sliced her with it, she lit up like a dying demon.
That sounded promising. A weapon from her prison may prove effective against the goddess. "I hid the blade she struck us with in Egypt."
Great! Tell Cas where we're going and let's go. He can get another angel to be his backup on big-mouth patrol while we're gone.
The gust of wind as they flew off fluttered the loose papers in the office and swung the once-locked office door wide open.
***
Castiel perched on the flat roof of an abandoned gas station in the desert. Fifteen miles to the south, the TechMed research facility baked in the harsh sun, its dark, reflective windows and rooftop gleaming on the horizon. A subsidiary of a holding company owned by Roman Enterprises, Inc., TechMed's website boasted "great progress" and "recent breakthroughs" in research of "diseases that impact behavior, such as Alzheimer's, Mad Cow, and Rabies." No other active research facility in the state had as clear a connection to the leviathan, so - at Sam's recommendation - Castiel focused his reconnaissance on TechMed's facility.
Balthazar landed next to him. Castiel smiled. "I'm glad you came, Balthazar," he greeted without turning from his post.
"Anytime you need my help, Cassie." Balthazar shrugged. "Besides, I was going out of my mind cooped up in Heaven. You have no idea how boring things seem up there after spending time down here." He rubbed his hands together. "Earth is so much more exciting!"
"Sometimes I think I'd prefer the quiet," Castiel replied.
"Oh, come off it," Balthazar turned to face Castiel. "You know you'll never leave here, not while Dean's still up and kicking."
"No," Castiel agreed.
Balthazar shook his head. "Your grace is still tied to his soul, isn't it?"
Castiel drew in a long breath. "Yes."
"But you're fine!" Balthazar protested. "I can see it. Your grace is good as new, Cassie, so get rid of that bond before it's too late. It's too risky to keep it for whatever sentimentality is keeping you holding on."
"I have faith in Dean. Maintaining our connection is how I can prove that to him."
"Attaching yourself to a human like that is dangerous, Cassie," Balthazar said, placing one hand on his friend’s arm. "He could ruin you."
"He could, but he won't." Castiel turned and met Balthazar's gaze. "Dean is a good man, Balthazar. He will not be damned."
"He'd better not be, because if he gets dragged to the Pit, so do you." Balthazar's voice grew harsh. "That's how our brother Azazel ended up a demon, you know."
"I remember." Castiel said - evenly, with great effort. "That's a risk I am willing to take, brother. I've gone to hell for him once already."
Balthazar shook his head. "He's going to be the death of you, Castiel, and I hate him for it."
"I wish you didn't, but I know I can't change your mind," Castiel replied, unable to keep the hurt from his voice.
"Let's just enjoy what time we have left." Balthazar offered a small smile. "I don't want you to die mad at me."
Castiel huffed and turned back to his watch. They stood in silence as the sun set behind the glare of TechMed's facade.
***
Dean marveled at the view. It was breathtaking, and he couldn't even breathe on his own right now. He was almost glad Michael was in control of his body, because standing at the top of the Great Pyramid at Giza would have left Dean gaping at the landscape and hanging on for dear life from the height. The peak they stood on was weathered and rounded from thousands of years of wind and sand, but it supported their weight with a solidness that spoke to the monolith’s endurance of ages. Michael held Ishtar's poisoned black knife in one hand, retrieved from a hidden sarcophagus in the tomb beneath the center of the pyramid.
The sunrise lit the landscape in soft pinks and oranges, and the bustling din of early morning tourists and souvenir-sellers drifted up from the ground, complementing the scenery rather than detracting from it. Combined with the impending end of the world, the scene would make any guy introspective and philosophical. Dean was in the middle of trying to figure out if Cas owning his soul was somehow bad for the angel - Balthalzar certainly made it seem that way when he found out - when the question floated out of his mind of its own volition.
Is owning my soul hurting Cas?
Michael paused before answering, which Dean interpreted as a sign he wasn’t going to like the answer. "The last angel to bind his grace to a human soul and hold it beyond the human's death and judgement was Azazel."
Dean started. You mean the Yellow-Eye Demon? The one that killed my mom and ripped apart my family and poisoned Sam when he was a baby? He was an angel?
Michael closed his eyes for a moment, shuttering Dean's world. "The bond between soul and grace is such that where the soul goes, the grace must follow. If the human passes through to Heaven, the angel returns home."
And if I get my ass damned, Cas goes to Hell with me. Dean felt sick. He'd already sent himself to Hell once, and he was definitely dumb enough to do it again. Cas, you stupid bastard. Why didn't you pick someone else?
Dean didn't realize he'd sent that thought outside his head until Michael responded. "Because he knows, as I do, that you are a good man. You will not be damned again, Dean."
Michael's certainty kept Dean from fully panicking, but he was far from calm. Michael's grace squeezed him again. Dean figured it was supposed to be a hug.
"Dean, do you know what my name means?" Michael asked.
Um... I may have missed that day in Sunday school.
Michael chortled. "It means 'Who is like God?'. I realize now that I was meant to keep my brothers and sisters true to our mission of serving the creations that our Father made in His image. You, humanity, are 'like God'. None of you who try to serve one another, as you do, deserve damnation."
Dean poked Michael back. He got it. Thanks. Dean shook himself out of his weird mood. Not being in control of his body messed with his emotions, and he was not a fan. Let's get back stateside.
As soon as Michael landed, Dean's phone started buzzing. Michael ignored it, walking toward the edge of the rooftop where Castiel and Balthazar stood. Dude, aren't you going to get that? Michael reached into Dean's pocket and pulled out the phone. 12 new messages and 3 new voicemails.
Michael stared at the screen.
Dean shoved at the angel's grace. Just tap the voicemail button. No not that one, the other one! The one that looks like a phone. There you go. Jeez.
All three calls were from Sam. Dean told Michael how to play the most recent message. The archangel held the phone up to his ear just in time to hear Sam's urgent tone.
"Damnit Dean, or Michael, whoever! Answer your phone! Bobby and I found something big and we need your help to pull it off. Get here as soon as you get this."
Guess we're heading to Bobby's.
Michael gestured to Castiel, who stood watching them closely. "Sam and Bobby have discovered something of use. We must go. Balthazar-"
The V-necked angel waved without turning around. "I'll stay behind and babysit the shiny building, oh fearless leader. I'll let you know if swarms of leviathan show up."
Michael and Dean both glared at Balthazar's back. Castiel flew off, and they followed.
Four leviathan surged toward Michael, mouths gaping to display rows of razor-sharp teeth. Michael dodged, rolled, and sprung to his feet, blade in hand. He spun and sliced in one smooth motion, and his sword severed the heads off the two enemies nearest to him. Dean's body knew fighting well, and it moved readily to Michael's will. Michael had not taken many vessels in his life - he preferred to do battle in his own form - but he saw now why Dean was meant for him. They fit.
The two remaining leviathan backed up a pace, assessing. Beyond them, Castiel fought two leviathan of his own as he defended Garth, the outmatched hunter who'd called Bobby for backup and alerted them to the leviathans' location. Michael refocused on his own opponents, confident in Castiel's abilities. The leviathan shifted, strafing away from one another. They're gonna come at us from the sides, Dean warned. Michael trusted the hunter's instincts. He reversed his grip on his sword, facing the point down instead of out.
The leviathans attacked, attempting to flank him just as Dean predicted. Pivoting at just the right moment, Michael drove the point of his blade through the left eye of the leviathan on his right, then continued his spin and caught the other under the chin with the hilt. With a flick of the wrist, the stunned leviathan's head fell to the ground. An instant later his fellow met the same fate. Michael straightened and looked up.
Castiel swung his blade, removing the head of the leviathan facing him. Behind him, though, a fallen leviathan with a hole in its throat from Castiel's sword rose stealthily to its feet. Cas! Dean cried. In an eye blink, Michael stood behind Castiel's would-be assailant. He dispatched it with a single swing of his sword.
Dean reveled in the violence, exhilaration and satisfaction billowing out from his soul. Michael's own elation mingled with his vessel’s as they stood victorious over their enemies.
"Wow!" Garth's awed exclamation broke the silence. "Thanks, Dean." The scrawny hunter climbed to his feet as the angels put up their swords. "Bobby said you were the bee’s knees, but holy cow! I've never seen moves quite like that before."
Michael glanced at the small man before examining their surroundings. They had landed in a small copse of trees near several large industrial buildings. "What were they after?" he asked. The rest of the sparse northern forest surrounding them was devoid of human structures, save for a few paved access roads.
"I don't know if they were after anything," Garth said. "I tracked them here after I saw them-" he gulped. "After they ate some poor soul at the gas station a few miles back. I just happened to be driving by. I didn't know what sort of critter they were, so I called Bobby."
"It is well you did, or you would be dead," Michael said.
Garth frowned. "You don't seem much like Bobby described you, Dean. You feeling okay?"
Michael looked at him. "I am not Dean Winchester."
Garth's eyes widened and he stepped back, fumbling in his jacket. Great, now you spooked him, Dean said. He's probably going for the holy water.
Castiel stepped forward and touched Garth's shoulder. "Did Bobby tell you about me?"
Garth nodded. "Sure did, and I gotta say, it's an honor. I mean, my gran always told me to listen for angels, but I just thought she was crazy 'til Bobby called me last year and told me you guys were really real." Oh great, a fanboy, Dean snarked. He's even worse than Sammy.
"Then trust me when I say that Dean is well and Michael-" Cas nodded toward his brother, "-means you no harm. Now please, tell us everything you can remember about the leviathan."
"Well... Like I said, I was tailing them, so I didn't get much. I did hear one of them on the phone with the boss, though, before they found my hiding spot. That was right before you two showed up."
"How do you know it was their boss?" Michael asked.
Garth scrunched up his face. "Well, the first thing he said when he picked up the phone was 'Hi boss.'"
Dude, you pissed him off by asking a question that made it seem like you don't think he can do his job, Dean explained, sounding frustrated. Michael inclined his head toward Garth. "Apologies for the interruption. Please continue."
Garth put his hands in his pockets. "Well, it sounded like they were stepping up their timeline. Most of the conversation I could hear was 'yessir' or 'nosir,' but the few full sentences he did get out were excuses for not having something ready for shipment. I'm not sure what, but they did talk about a medical research center in Nevada." He shrugged. "I didn't catch anything else."
Nevada, huh? Dean mused. Big state to just wander through looking for big-mouths. We should see if Sam can scrounge up a smaller target.
Michael looked at Castiel. "Dean thinks we should contact Sam and Bobby and request they divert some of their efforts to finding more information about this medical research center. Do you agree?" Aw. You're learning democracy. Michael chose to ignore Dean’s comment.
Castiel nodded. "Yes. I will drop Garth off near his vehicle and then call Sam. What will you do?"
Michael looked at the largest building of the small industrial area off to their right. "Dean and I will investigate why that building is the only one in this area with no one inside it."
You can tell that from here? Dean asked, skeptical.
Angels can sense life in all its forms, especially sentient forms, Michael explained. An angel could tell you the exact human and monster population of any city. An archangel could tell you how many animals, birds, fish, and insects lived there as well.
Dean didn't have a response for that.
"I will rejoin you soon, then," Castiel said, placing one hand on Garth's shoulder and departing.
A moment later, Michael alighted directly inside the front entrance of the vacant building. The lights were off, but his grace augmented Dean's eyesight. They would have no problem searching.
So, what exactly are we looking for, here? Dean asked.
"Anything that will tell us why that group of leviathan was traveling here." Their trajectory and this building's vacancy made it their most logical destination. Dean did not question the assumption, which Michael took as agreement. They started their search on the ground floor and worked their way up through the deserted building. Michael searched with his grace and senses that Dean did not have, leaving his vessel to focus on sights, sounds, and smells.
As they ascended the stairwell toward the third floor, Dean jostled against Michael's grace. Can I ask you a question?
Curious, Michael paused his investigation. "Of course."
Dean hesitated. Michael waited. When we killed those leviathan back there, I enjoyed it, Dean admitted. Michael tilted his head. "And? What is your question?"
I haven't felt like that since Purgatory, and I want more of it, Dean spilled out. Purgatory... Down there things made so much sense. Some stuff was fucked up, sure, but the fighting? It felt so pure. Everything up there was fair game. I didn't feel guilty about any of it. How much I enjoyed the fighting, the killing... It scares me sometimes. Dean gathered his courage. I guess my question is, how can a killer like me possibly be the Righteous Man you and Cas seem so convinced I am? How can I be the true vessel for Heaven's General? It just doesn’t make sense.
Dean’s confession reverberated through Michael’s grace like Revelation. Finally understood. They fit together because he and his vessel shared the struggle to define their worth outside of their prowess as warriors, and Dean did so without an innate assurance of God's blessing and love. Michael knew his own worthiness because he knew that his Father created him to be militant. Dean had no such faith.
He compressed his grace around the human's soul for a moment, offering support. "You are a warrior, Dean, a soldier," he tried to explain. "Fighting is a part of who you are, and always will be, but it is only a part. If there is anything I have learned in the short time I've known you, it's that there is far more to you than your abilities as a hunter."
Dean remained silent for a moment, his soul shivering in Michael's hold as he digested the angel's words. Thanks, Mike.
They searched the third floor in companionable silence.
The fourth and final floor contained just three offices and a single, small storeroom. It and the two smaller offices contained nothing of interest. The door to the large office was locked. That’s either a good sign or a really bad one, Dean commented. Michael reached out hand to force the door, but Dean protested. Wait! If you bust it down they'll know someone was in here snooping. Let me pick it.
Michael relented, and drew himself as far back as he could within Dean. No matter how small he made himself, though, Dean could not reach out far enough to control his limbs. Damn it! The hunter cursed. Take the wheel. I'll have to talk you through it.
The process was annoyingly slow, but Michael understood the value in leaving no trace of their investigation. Finally, the lock clicked. The expansive office featured a single large mahogany desk with two metal guest chairs facing it, two bookshelves, and a single unlit floor lamp.
Michael glanced at each bookshelf, but saw nothing noteworthy. At Dean's urging, they sorted through the small stack of folders on the desk, but discovered nothing except order forms and invoices for construction materials, similar to what they'd found elsewhere in the building. Michael began to doubt his suspicions.
Check the drawers, Dean insisted.
The first two contain only employee evaluation forms and vacation requests. The third was locked. Jackpot! Dean crowed, and once again coached Michael through the lock-picking.
The locked drawer held a single rolled-up bundle of papers. Michael spread them out across the desk, revealing an architectural diagram, a blueprint. On the left side, marked as the entrance, were waiting rooms with television sets, couches and other amenities. Moving to the right, Michael saw the outlines of showers and other facilities, followed by a long hallway. The hallway turned a 90-degree corner at the edge of the building. The room it led into was large, had only one entrance, and was marked "Butchery." A conveyor belt led further into the facility from there.
Oh my god, Dean breathed, horror spreading through his soul. They're building a meat-packing plant for people.
Michael frowned. "Humans are more intelligent than this, and most value their lives above nearly all else. They would not walk so willingly to their demise."
Dean shifted inside him. They would if they didn't know it was coming. If they went there thinking they were safe... Those first rooms look like fancy hotel lobbies.
"But why come here in the first place?" Michael asked.
I don't know, but at least now we know part of their plan, which is more than we knew before. Plus, now we have an idea of their timeline.
"How so?"
None of the construction contracts we found were billed as completed, Dean explained. They're still in the planning stages, thank god.
Michael straightened and re-rolled the thin diagrams. "What troubles me most is that Ishtar remains with the leviathan, but I cannot discern her role in this plan." He returned the blueprints to the desk drawer and closed it. "She is not one to wait and plan, so what use do the leviathan have for her?"
Well, they're not keeping her around for her personality, Dean quipped. Either way, at least we know how to stop her.
"We do?" Michael knew of no weapon effective against her, save for the Elhyim Yad, which they had already determined they could not use.
Sure, Dean replied. With Ellie out of commission, we'll just have to stab her with her own knife.
Michael frowned. "You think that will work?"
Sam found something in Purgatory that looked exactly like the black knives she used and when he sliced her with it, she lit up like a dying demon.
That sounded promising. A weapon from her prison may prove effective against the goddess. "I hid the blade she struck us with in Egypt."
Great! Tell Cas where we're going and let's go. He can get another angel to be his backup on big-mouth patrol while we're gone.
The gust of wind as they flew off fluttered the loose papers in the office and swung the once-locked office door wide open.
***
Castiel perched on the flat roof of an abandoned gas station in the desert. Fifteen miles to the south, the TechMed research facility baked in the harsh sun, its dark, reflective windows and rooftop gleaming on the horizon. A subsidiary of a holding company owned by Roman Enterprises, Inc., TechMed's website boasted "great progress" and "recent breakthroughs" in research of "diseases that impact behavior, such as Alzheimer's, Mad Cow, and Rabies." No other active research facility in the state had as clear a connection to the leviathan, so - at Sam's recommendation - Castiel focused his reconnaissance on TechMed's facility.
Balthazar landed next to him. Castiel smiled. "I'm glad you came, Balthazar," he greeted without turning from his post.
"Anytime you need my help, Cassie." Balthazar shrugged. "Besides, I was going out of my mind cooped up in Heaven. You have no idea how boring things seem up there after spending time down here." He rubbed his hands together. "Earth is so much more exciting!"
"Sometimes I think I'd prefer the quiet," Castiel replied.
"Oh, come off it," Balthazar turned to face Castiel. "You know you'll never leave here, not while Dean's still up and kicking."
"No," Castiel agreed.
Balthazar shook his head. "Your grace is still tied to his soul, isn't it?"
Castiel drew in a long breath. "Yes."
"But you're fine!" Balthazar protested. "I can see it. Your grace is good as new, Cassie, so get rid of that bond before it's too late. It's too risky to keep it for whatever sentimentality is keeping you holding on."
"I have faith in Dean. Maintaining our connection is how I can prove that to him."
"Attaching yourself to a human like that is dangerous, Cassie," Balthazar said, placing one hand on his friend’s arm. "He could ruin you."
"He could, but he won't." Castiel turned and met Balthazar's gaze. "Dean is a good man, Balthazar. He will not be damned."
"He'd better not be, because if he gets dragged to the Pit, so do you." Balthazar's voice grew harsh. "That's how our brother Azazel ended up a demon, you know."
"I remember." Castiel said - evenly, with great effort. "That's a risk I am willing to take, brother. I've gone to hell for him once already."
Balthazar shook his head. "He's going to be the death of you, Castiel, and I hate him for it."
"I wish you didn't, but I know I can't change your mind," Castiel replied, unable to keep the hurt from his voice.
"Let's just enjoy what time we have left." Balthazar offered a small smile. "I don't want you to die mad at me."
Castiel huffed and turned back to his watch. They stood in silence as the sun set behind the glare of TechMed's facade.
***
Dean marveled at the view. It was breathtaking, and he couldn't even breathe on his own right now. He was almost glad Michael was in control of his body, because standing at the top of the Great Pyramid at Giza would have left Dean gaping at the landscape and hanging on for dear life from the height. The peak they stood on was weathered and rounded from thousands of years of wind and sand, but it supported their weight with a solidness that spoke to the monolith’s endurance of ages. Michael held Ishtar's poisoned black knife in one hand, retrieved from a hidden sarcophagus in the tomb beneath the center of the pyramid.
The sunrise lit the landscape in soft pinks and oranges, and the bustling din of early morning tourists and souvenir-sellers drifted up from the ground, complementing the scenery rather than detracting from it. Combined with the impending end of the world, the scene would make any guy introspective and philosophical. Dean was in the middle of trying to figure out if Cas owning his soul was somehow bad for the angel - Balthalzar certainly made it seem that way when he found out - when the question floated out of his mind of its own volition.
Is owning my soul hurting Cas?
Michael paused before answering, which Dean interpreted as a sign he wasn’t going to like the answer. "The last angel to bind his grace to a human soul and hold it beyond the human's death and judgement was Azazel."
Dean started. You mean the Yellow-Eye Demon? The one that killed my mom and ripped apart my family and poisoned Sam when he was a baby? He was an angel?
Michael closed his eyes for a moment, shuttering Dean's world. "The bond between soul and grace is such that where the soul goes, the grace must follow. If the human passes through to Heaven, the angel returns home."
And if I get my ass damned, Cas goes to Hell with me. Dean felt sick. He'd already sent himself to Hell once, and he was definitely dumb enough to do it again. Cas, you stupid bastard. Why didn't you pick someone else?
Dean didn't realize he'd sent that thought outside his head until Michael responded. "Because he knows, as I do, that you are a good man. You will not be damned again, Dean."
Michael's certainty kept Dean from fully panicking, but he was far from calm. Michael's grace squeezed him again. Dean figured it was supposed to be a hug.
"Dean, do you know what my name means?" Michael asked.
Um... I may have missed that day in Sunday school.
Michael chortled. "It means 'Who is like God?'. I realize now that I was meant to keep my brothers and sisters true to our mission of serving the creations that our Father made in His image. You, humanity, are 'like God'. None of you who try to serve one another, as you do, deserve damnation."
Dean poked Michael back. He got it. Thanks. Dean shook himself out of his weird mood. Not being in control of his body messed with his emotions, and he was not a fan. Let's get back stateside.
As soon as Michael landed, Dean's phone started buzzing. Michael ignored it, walking toward the edge of the rooftop where Castiel and Balthazar stood. Dude, aren't you going to get that? Michael reached into Dean's pocket and pulled out the phone. 12 new messages and 3 new voicemails.
Michael stared at the screen.
Dean shoved at the angel's grace. Just tap the voicemail button. No not that one, the other one! The one that looks like a phone. There you go. Jeez.
All three calls were from Sam. Dean told Michael how to play the most recent message. The archangel held the phone up to his ear just in time to hear Sam's urgent tone.
"Damnit Dean, or Michael, whoever! Answer your phone! Bobby and I found something big and we need your help to pull it off. Get here as soon as you get this."
Guess we're heading to Bobby's.
Michael gestured to Castiel, who stood watching them closely. "Sam and Bobby have discovered something of use. We must go. Balthazar-"
The V-necked angel waved without turning around. "I'll stay behind and babysit the shiny building, oh fearless leader. I'll let you know if swarms of leviathan show up."
Michael and Dean both glared at Balthazar's back. Castiel flew off, and they followed.