Shadow of the Wind - Chapter Two: If Words had Names
Title: Shadow of the Wind
Subtitle: If Words Had Names
Author: dracox-serdriel
Warnings: graphic depictions of violence, theft, time warp, fallen angels
There was a fire burning on earth.
There had been no announcement, no resounding call summoning them, yet they all came together. It started with the cupids, then the Garrison, then those from every earthly post. Finally, even those in the highest offices in Heaven came to bare witness.
An Abandoned Church in North Dakota. May 15, 2013.
Fire erupted in Sam's veins. He glowed for a few moments, and then he began to fade.
"Dean," Sam said as he gasped for air.
"See?" Dean replied.
The younger Winchester doubled over in pain.
"Sam? I got you, little brother. You're gonna be just fine."
Dean supported him as they went to the Impala. Sam collapsed next to it.
"Sam, Sam?" he repeated.
His brother was unconscious and didn't respond. His fingers found a pulse. Sam was still alive. All he needed was a little help, maybe some healing.
Dean cast his eyes up to the stars and yelled, "Cas?! Castiel! Where the hell are you?"
The sky turned red as fire rained down.
"No, Cas..."
Sam's eyes flicked opened and he asked, "What's happening?"
"Angels," Dean replied. "They're falling."
New Harmony, Indiana. May 2008.
The first hellhound charged straight for Cas, who sidestepped the monster and delivered a slicing blow down its side. It snarled and turned to attack again, and Dean nailed it in the eye with the demon knife.
BANG! BANG! Cas peppered the remaining houses with salt and iron rounds from two shot guns, and though snarls and whimpers followed each hit, the hounds barely flinched.
Cas flinched when a louder gunshot rang out. Dean took down a second hound with a bullet from the Colt.
"We agreed not to waste those bullets!" Cas protested.
"Ding dong, the bitch is dead!" Dean said, his eyes focused on the remaining hound. "What're we saving them for now?"
They went back to back as the last one circled them, clawing at the furniture and slashing at the floor.
Then it charged with a zigzag pattern. Cas fired the iron and salt rounds. It leaped over them, and both men lifted their blades, slicing the hound from chest to groin as it passed overhead.
The stink of its blood was enough to make them both wretch. It cascaded around them and drenched their hair and clothing.
"Shooting them is preferable," Cas remarked calmly.
"Putting it mildly, Cas."
"The other demons are gone," Cas said. "I imagine it would be best if we washed the blood out of our hair and clothes before leaving."
Dean nodded, and they trooped upstairs to the main bathroom. They tried to wipe down their garments, but the blood was too thick to salvage them. So they stripped to their untainted undergarments.
Cas wrapped their bloody clothing and coats in towels and stuffed them in a small piece of luggage from the hallway closet while Dean pilfered pants and shirts. They weren't a flattering fit, but it was better than walking away from a crime scene in their boxers.
"Dean! Sam!" someone bellowed from downstairs.
"Crap, Cas, we gotta move."
"Why?"
"Bobby," Dean replied.
"We're fleeing from Bobby Singer?" Cas asked.
"Hell yeah."
"Why?"
"Because he's gonna ask where Sam is," Dean replied. "And that's only if he doesn't call bullshit the moment he sees me. He's gonna know something's off, and even if he lets that one go, he's gonna wanna know who the hell you are. You two haven't met yet."
"Ah, yes," Cas replied.
"He'll probably stab me with something silver before he gets that far."
Bobby had come through the front door, so they waited by the top of the stairs as he checked out the first floor. As soon as he made his way over to the basement, Dean and Cas sneaked down the stairs and out the door.
They made it to the old minivan they parked down the street without attracting attention.
As they drove off, Dean asked, "You gonna tell me about it?"
"If they were glasses instead of goggles, they'd've fallen off in the fight."
"What? No, not that, I mean the other thing," Dean said. "That spell that Lilith laid on you."
"It was nothing," Cas replied. "She didn't finish it."
"So, she didn't zap the angel out of you?"
"No, the angel left of its own accord," he replied. "I explained that the angel blade would kill her, regardless of who wielded it. That meant I merely needed to remain conscious and in the room long enough to stab her, which is a feat I could perform without angelic assistance."
Dean laughed. "You were right."
"About what?"
"Powers or no powers, you're still a good soldier."
Oklahoma City, Oklahoma. May 16, 2013.
Dean followed the GPS on Cas's cell phone to a small strip of older buildings in Oklahoma City. He parked the Impala and walked past each one, but they were all vacant. No one was around except for an older man waiting in his car and a young woman heading for the warehouse at the end of the street.
He checked the tracker again. It was still in the same general area but moving. There was only one person on the move right now, so Dean followed her.
She could be a pickpocket. Cas wouldn't be great at avoiding that. Or maybe he befriended her and lent her his phone. There were plenty of reasons that a pretty young woman would have Cas's phone besides demonic or angelic abductions.
"Excuse me," Dean said to her.
She stopped and replied, "You mean me?"
"Yeah, I'm looking for someone," Dean said. "He's tall, dark hair, blue eyes. When he talks he sounds kind of... weird. Have you seen him?"
"No, sorry. Your friend, does he have a name?"
A light moved across her, like a watch face reflecting onto her. It moved back and forth deliberately, like a signaling mirror.
"Yeah. You sure you haven't seen him?"
If she was a demon, she would've attacked by now. So Dean nicked his index finger and put his hand against the building, like he was leaning on it for support.
"Not that I'm aware of," she replied.
"You, uh, live here?" Dean asked, indicating the warehouse she was about to enter.
"Sure, I've lived in worse."
"Alone?"
"You looking for your friend or someone to rob?" she asked.
"So, alone."
"You should go."
She pulled the door open. He grabbed her arm.
"Hey," he said. "If you haven't seen him, why is his phone is in your pocket?"
She gave him a small smile before reaching up to touch his forehead. Dean yanked on her arm to put her off-balance, but it didn't do much. She broke his grip and produced her angel blade.
"Guess we're doing this the hard way," she said.
She thrust at his neck, but he dodged it and got his hand around the blade.
"Sorry, not this time," Dean said as he pressed the palm of his hand against the sigil he'd made on the wall.
"NO!"
She dropped her own blade as she was blown away. Dean armed himself with it and ducked into the warehouse, not sure what to expect. That sigil could've hit Castiel, too.
"CAS!" Dean yelled. "Cas!"
"Over here."
Still in his trench coat, Cas was bound to a chair with a measure of rope. Dean started cutting him free.
"Got yourself a new girlfriend?"
"Hael," Cas replied. "She wanted my vessel. Hers is presently melting."
"She's probably not the only one. Did you do that on purpose? The signaling thing with the light?"
"Jimmy used it when he was courting his wife. He'd wait outside her family home, and she'd signal him with her watch in a similar manner."
"Old school."
"Does the age of the school apply?"
"Never mind, can you zap us back to the car?"
"No, I don't... Metatron took my Grace, Dean," Cas replied. "I'm not an angel anymore."
"Okay, well, let's get the hell out of here. We can figure the rest out on the road."
He cut through the last of the rope, and Cas stood up, free.
"I'll take the blade."
"What?"
"Metatron took my weapon when he sent me back to earth," Cas explained. "Let me have that one."
"I'll hold on to it."
"Powers or no powers, Dean, I am a solider. A good soldier. But right now I can't defend myself."
Dean handed the angel blade over, and Cas tucked it in his coat. For a moment, the two of them felt an odd kind of peace, something that the former angel could not explain.
"Where are we going?" Cas asked.
"Home."
Meanwhile, at the Men of Letters Bunker...
Kevin Tran had set aside the tablet and his many scribbled notes. His head ached, and he couldn't do any more.
He liked Sam, and he certainly didn't wish him dead. But this past year, Kevin had dedicated himself to closing the Gates of Hell. He put himself and everyone he loved on the line for that mission. And why did it fail? Because Dean couldn't let his brother die.
It made Kevin's head hurt.
Kevin had hid from Crowley for over a year without the Winchesters, and when they turned up and unleashed the King of Hell on him again, he didn't back down. He told them the truth about slamming the Gates of Hell shut forever. Had he never tried to defeat Crowley, he would probably still have a mother and an ex-girlfriend alive to worry about him.
But he did. It was the right thing to do. He put himself in the line of fire, basically guaranteeing his own death.
So why did the Winchesters back out? Because one of them would die? One more person needed to die to send every demon on the planet back to Hell. If Kevin had been the one doing the trials, he would've done it. He would've died to complete his mission.
Instead, Sam was now spitting up blood and shaking violently in the library, trying to find a way to cure himself. Kevin had a sneaking suspicion that Sam Winchester would soon be dead whether or not he finished the last trial.
"Kev," Sam said as he came into the war room.
"Yeah, Sam?"
"I wanted to ask you about Metatron."
"What about him?"
"He's just done something big. According to Cas - "
"Dean found him?" Kevin interrupted.
"Yeah, he's fine. Human now, apparently. Metatron used his Grace to cast all the angels out of Heaven."
"That's not good."
"No," Sam said. "But the thing is, this guy has been hiding in the mountains forever, reading books. He healed people in exchange for good stories."
"So?"
"Well, now he's in charge, the only angel in Heaven," Sam said. "It's not like he's got time for that anymore."
"If the Gates of Hell were closed, he probably would have had the time."
"Exactly," Sam said.
"What, you think you can trick him by promising him stories?"
"Actually, I was thinking, what if we could give him back his secrecy? Let him go back into the mountains with no one knowing he was there."
"If he cast the angels out of heaven, it was to punish them. Revenge for driving him out of his home."
"Right, but what if he only did it now because of the trials?" Sam asked. "He figures he can get his revenge and take over Heaven, right when there's no longer any opposition from Hell. Maybe being the only angel up only works for him so long as demons are in check."
"I guess. I mean, from what little I know about the guy, you could be right."
"So what if we went to him, told him, these past few years haven't been great stories. Not since the Apocalypse has fallen apart."
"Right, so all we have to do is change how the Apocalypse ended, what, four years ago?" Kevin asked sarcastically.
"Exactly."
"You serious?"
Sam nodded. He looked like pale death.
"Maybe you should sleep," Kevin replied.
"I'm serious. Dean and Cas will be here soon," Sam said. "So think about it. He gets to go back into the woods and read books with no one bothering him. We change everything."
"I'm sure there's some kind of paradox time-traveling thing that prevents you from doing that."
"Maybe, but we've time-traveled with angels before. They can do it. And right now, Metatron might be the only one who can help us with it."
"You're crazy. You know that?"
New Harmony, Indiana. May 15, 2008.
"We must stop somewhere we can wash blood out of our clothing," Cas said.
"Don't worry about it, I can clean that up in the motel once we've gotten away from this place. I don't want anyone spotting us. Especially not Bobby."
"Do you think your brother succeeded?"
"Dunno," Dean replied. "But he hasn't called yet. So maybe he's still finishing up."
Next Chapter: >>>
Chapter Three: Beneath the Skin
<<< Previous Chapter:
Chapter One: The First One's Always Free
Subtitle: If Words Had Names
Author: dracox-serdriel
Warnings: graphic depictions of violence, theft, time warp, fallen angels
There was a fire burning on earth.
There had been no announcement, no resounding call summoning them, yet they all came together. It started with the cupids, then the Garrison, then those from every earthly post. Finally, even those in the highest offices in Heaven came to bare witness.
An Abandoned Church in North Dakota. May 15, 2013.
Fire erupted in Sam's veins. He glowed for a few moments, and then he began to fade.
"Dean," Sam said as he gasped for air.
"See?" Dean replied.
The younger Winchester doubled over in pain.
"Sam? I got you, little brother. You're gonna be just fine."
Dean supported him as they went to the Impala. Sam collapsed next to it.
"Sam, Sam?" he repeated.
His brother was unconscious and didn't respond. His fingers found a pulse. Sam was still alive. All he needed was a little help, maybe some healing.
Dean cast his eyes up to the stars and yelled, "Cas?! Castiel! Where the hell are you?"
The sky turned red as fire rained down.
"No, Cas..."
Sam's eyes flicked opened and he asked, "What's happening?"
"Angels," Dean replied. "They're falling."
New Harmony, Indiana. May 2008.
The first hellhound charged straight for Cas, who sidestepped the monster and delivered a slicing blow down its side. It snarled and turned to attack again, and Dean nailed it in the eye with the demon knife.
BANG! BANG! Cas peppered the remaining houses with salt and iron rounds from two shot guns, and though snarls and whimpers followed each hit, the hounds barely flinched.
Cas flinched when a louder gunshot rang out. Dean took down a second hound with a bullet from the Colt.
"We agreed not to waste those bullets!" Cas protested.
"Ding dong, the bitch is dead!" Dean said, his eyes focused on the remaining hound. "What're we saving them for now?"
They went back to back as the last one circled them, clawing at the furniture and slashing at the floor.
Then it charged with a zigzag pattern. Cas fired the iron and salt rounds. It leaped over them, and both men lifted their blades, slicing the hound from chest to groin as it passed overhead.
The stink of its blood was enough to make them both wretch. It cascaded around them and drenched their hair and clothing.
"Shooting them is preferable," Cas remarked calmly.
"Putting it mildly, Cas."
"The other demons are gone," Cas said. "I imagine it would be best if we washed the blood out of our hair and clothes before leaving."
Dean nodded, and they trooped upstairs to the main bathroom. They tried to wipe down their garments, but the blood was too thick to salvage them. So they stripped to their untainted undergarments.
Cas wrapped their bloody clothing and coats in towels and stuffed them in a small piece of luggage from the hallway closet while Dean pilfered pants and shirts. They weren't a flattering fit, but it was better than walking away from a crime scene in their boxers.
"Dean! Sam!" someone bellowed from downstairs.
"Crap, Cas, we gotta move."
"Why?"
"Bobby," Dean replied.
"We're fleeing from Bobby Singer?" Cas asked.
"Hell yeah."
"Why?"
"Because he's gonna ask where Sam is," Dean replied. "And that's only if he doesn't call bullshit the moment he sees me. He's gonna know something's off, and even if he lets that one go, he's gonna wanna know who the hell you are. You two haven't met yet."
"Ah, yes," Cas replied.
"He'll probably stab me with something silver before he gets that far."
Bobby had come through the front door, so they waited by the top of the stairs as he checked out the first floor. As soon as he made his way over to the basement, Dean and Cas sneaked down the stairs and out the door.
They made it to the old minivan they parked down the street without attracting attention.
As they drove off, Dean asked, "You gonna tell me about it?"
"If they were glasses instead of goggles, they'd've fallen off in the fight."
"What? No, not that, I mean the other thing," Dean said. "That spell that Lilith laid on you."
"It was nothing," Cas replied. "She didn't finish it."
"So, she didn't zap the angel out of you?"
"No, the angel left of its own accord," he replied. "I explained that the angel blade would kill her, regardless of who wielded it. That meant I merely needed to remain conscious and in the room long enough to stab her, which is a feat I could perform without angelic assistance."
Dean laughed. "You were right."
"About what?"
"Powers or no powers, you're still a good soldier."
Oklahoma City, Oklahoma. May 16, 2013.
Dean followed the GPS on Cas's cell phone to a small strip of older buildings in Oklahoma City. He parked the Impala and walked past each one, but they were all vacant. No one was around except for an older man waiting in his car and a young woman heading for the warehouse at the end of the street.
He checked the tracker again. It was still in the same general area but moving. There was only one person on the move right now, so Dean followed her.
She could be a pickpocket. Cas wouldn't be great at avoiding that. Or maybe he befriended her and lent her his phone. There were plenty of reasons that a pretty young woman would have Cas's phone besides demonic or angelic abductions.
"Excuse me," Dean said to her.
She stopped and replied, "You mean me?"
"Yeah, I'm looking for someone," Dean said. "He's tall, dark hair, blue eyes. When he talks he sounds kind of... weird. Have you seen him?"
"No, sorry. Your friend, does he have a name?"
A light moved across her, like a watch face reflecting onto her. It moved back and forth deliberately, like a signaling mirror.
"Yeah. You sure you haven't seen him?"
If she was a demon, she would've attacked by now. So Dean nicked his index finger and put his hand against the building, like he was leaning on it for support.
"Not that I'm aware of," she replied.
"You, uh, live here?" Dean asked, indicating the warehouse she was about to enter.
"Sure, I've lived in worse."
"Alone?"
"You looking for your friend or someone to rob?" she asked.
"So, alone."
"You should go."
She pulled the door open. He grabbed her arm.
"Hey," he said. "If you haven't seen him, why is his phone is in your pocket?"
She gave him a small smile before reaching up to touch his forehead. Dean yanked on her arm to put her off-balance, but it didn't do much. She broke his grip and produced her angel blade.
"Guess we're doing this the hard way," she said.
She thrust at his neck, but he dodged it and got his hand around the blade.
"Sorry, not this time," Dean said as he pressed the palm of his hand against the sigil he'd made on the wall.
"NO!"
She dropped her own blade as she was blown away. Dean armed himself with it and ducked into the warehouse, not sure what to expect. That sigil could've hit Castiel, too.
"CAS!" Dean yelled. "Cas!"
"Over here."
Still in his trench coat, Cas was bound to a chair with a measure of rope. Dean started cutting him free.
"Got yourself a new girlfriend?"
"Hael," Cas replied. "She wanted my vessel. Hers is presently melting."
"She's probably not the only one. Did you do that on purpose? The signaling thing with the light?"
"Jimmy used it when he was courting his wife. He'd wait outside her family home, and she'd signal him with her watch in a similar manner."
"Old school."
"Does the age of the school apply?"
"Never mind, can you zap us back to the car?"
"No, I don't... Metatron took my Grace, Dean," Cas replied. "I'm not an angel anymore."
"Okay, well, let's get the hell out of here. We can figure the rest out on the road."
He cut through the last of the rope, and Cas stood up, free.
"I'll take the blade."
"What?"
"Metatron took my weapon when he sent me back to earth," Cas explained. "Let me have that one."
"I'll hold on to it."
"Powers or no powers, Dean, I am a solider. A good soldier. But right now I can't defend myself."
Dean handed the angel blade over, and Cas tucked it in his coat. For a moment, the two of them felt an odd kind of peace, something that the former angel could not explain.
"Where are we going?" Cas asked.
"Home."
Meanwhile, at the Men of Letters Bunker...
Kevin Tran had set aside the tablet and his many scribbled notes. His head ached, and he couldn't do any more.
He liked Sam, and he certainly didn't wish him dead. But this past year, Kevin had dedicated himself to closing the Gates of Hell. He put himself and everyone he loved on the line for that mission. And why did it fail? Because Dean couldn't let his brother die.
It made Kevin's head hurt.
Kevin had hid from Crowley for over a year without the Winchesters, and when they turned up and unleashed the King of Hell on him again, he didn't back down. He told them the truth about slamming the Gates of Hell shut forever. Had he never tried to defeat Crowley, he would probably still have a mother and an ex-girlfriend alive to worry about him.
But he did. It was the right thing to do. He put himself in the line of fire, basically guaranteeing his own death.
So why did the Winchesters back out? Because one of them would die? One more person needed to die to send every demon on the planet back to Hell. If Kevin had been the one doing the trials, he would've done it. He would've died to complete his mission.
Instead, Sam was now spitting up blood and shaking violently in the library, trying to find a way to cure himself. Kevin had a sneaking suspicion that Sam Winchester would soon be dead whether or not he finished the last trial.
"Kev," Sam said as he came into the war room.
"Yeah, Sam?"
"I wanted to ask you about Metatron."
"What about him?"
"He's just done something big. According to Cas - "
"Dean found him?" Kevin interrupted.
"Yeah, he's fine. Human now, apparently. Metatron used his Grace to cast all the angels out of Heaven."
"That's not good."
"No," Sam said. "But the thing is, this guy has been hiding in the mountains forever, reading books. He healed people in exchange for good stories."
"So?"
"Well, now he's in charge, the only angel in Heaven," Sam said. "It's not like he's got time for that anymore."
"If the Gates of Hell were closed, he probably would have had the time."
"Exactly," Sam said.
"What, you think you can trick him by promising him stories?"
"Actually, I was thinking, what if we could give him back his secrecy? Let him go back into the mountains with no one knowing he was there."
"If he cast the angels out of heaven, it was to punish them. Revenge for driving him out of his home."
"Right, but what if he only did it now because of the trials?" Sam asked. "He figures he can get his revenge and take over Heaven, right when there's no longer any opposition from Hell. Maybe being the only angel up only works for him so long as demons are in check."
"I guess. I mean, from what little I know about the guy, you could be right."
"So what if we went to him, told him, these past few years haven't been great stories. Not since the Apocalypse has fallen apart."
"Right, so all we have to do is change how the Apocalypse ended, what, four years ago?" Kevin asked sarcastically.
"Exactly."
"You serious?"
Sam nodded. He looked like pale death.
"Maybe you should sleep," Kevin replied.
"I'm serious. Dean and Cas will be here soon," Sam said. "So think about it. He gets to go back into the woods and read books with no one bothering him. We change everything."
"I'm sure there's some kind of paradox time-traveling thing that prevents you from doing that."
"Maybe, but we've time-traveled with angels before. They can do it. And right now, Metatron might be the only one who can help us with it."
"You're crazy. You know that?"
New Harmony, Indiana. May 15, 2008.
"We must stop somewhere we can wash blood out of our clothing," Cas said.
"Don't worry about it, I can clean that up in the motel once we've gotten away from this place. I don't want anyone spotting us. Especially not Bobby."
"Do you think your brother succeeded?"
"Dunno," Dean replied. "But he hasn't called yet. So maybe he's still finishing up."
Next Chapter: >>>
Chapter Three: Beneath the Skin
<<< Previous Chapter:
Chapter One: The First One's Always Free