Fic: Thicker Than Water 16/17 (Supernatural/TrueBlood x-over)
Title: Thicker Than Water 16/17
Author: dragon_fall
Fandoms: Supernatural/True Blood
Rating: R
Word Count: 49,382 (so far)
Warnings: none yet
Spoilers: Supernatural through season 4, TrueBlood through seasons 1 and 2
Summary: After Lucifer is freed from the cage Castiel is MIA. Sam and Dean roll into Bon Temps in search of answers and find more questions than either hunter imagined.
Author's Note: Takes place after Lucifer Rising and at the beginning of True Blood Season 2. Since I started writing this years ago it is slightly AU in the True Blood universe, but pieces from the second season will be working themselves in.
This isn’t a good idea.
Castiel shook his head, trying to force his host back into unconsciousness. This is something we must do. Dean will not survive a confrontation with this creature. She will tear him apart.
Jimmy gave something close to a huff. He’s a hunter. Aren’t they supposed to deal with this kind of thing every day?
Gods and elder creatures are far more difficult to deal with than werewolves and vampires. Castiel supplied, keeping his senses open. There are things that have not been seen since before man invented language.
And you’ve been depowered, remember? What are we gonna do, spit on her? What if she tears me in two?
Then she will have released me from your body. Once I have destroyed her, I will resurrect you.
To spend the next who knows how long being your meat suit? No thanks. I’ve had enough of the tilt-a-whirl for one lifetime.
Castiel remained silent. They had a plan, a good plan. Sookie’s vampire was supposed to speak to his Queen in the hope of discovering the means of killing the bacchante. Sam and Bobby traveled back to Benjamin’s, not content to trust the knowledge of something they considered an enemy. Dean and Castiel returned to Lafayette’s home to find it empty, a brief note from Sookie stating that Tara escaped and went to rescue her boyfriend, and they were following.
Dean spent the entire ride to Sookie’s cursing.
His plan was simple: Sneak up to the house, see if he could find either Sookie or her friends, and get them out. He disappeared into the house ten minutes before, and both Castiel and Jimmy were beginning to feel the first slivers of dread.
If he’s dead, then we’re next. What if your brothers did something that keeps you from coming back? I never signed up for this shit.
The angel was close to conceding the point when he felt it; a dark, harsh grating against his grace. He spun as the wind picked up, trying to locate the source.
“Well, look at you.”Castiel turned. A woman was standing behind him, arms folded, one finger teasing her bottom lip, but it wasn’t a woman. He could feel the otherness of her, a skittering crawl across the nerves of his host. She was old, powerful, and the dammed strength of his grace rushed against his bindings. The creature came towards him, dark eyes smiling. “You know, the last time I saw your kind a carpenter was being nailed to a cross.”
He pulled himself to his full height. “What do you want?”
“No need to be hostile,” she pouted, eyes dewy with false hurt. “After all, we’re practically on the same team, aren’t we?”
Castiel bristled. “You are an agent of chaos. I am a soldier of God. We are not on the same team.”
The woman sighed, the move lifting her breasts beneath the thin fabric of her gown. “No need to get feisty.” She circled him slowly. “I just meant we’re both on our own, fighting to survive in this world.” She stopped and gave him an appraising look. “How long have you been Fallen?”
“I am not…” he trailed off. Wasn’t he? Heaven had turned his back on him, Lucifer freed him.
“It must be hard for you, being on your own.” The creature was closer now, eyes wide and sincere. “I’ve met a few like you. Lost. Alone. Abandoned. By those who were supposed to be their family, their brothers in arms.”
Castiel watched her. Here was a creature who could understand something of his age. She was old, ancient. Not nearly as old as him or even the youngest of the host, but still older than any he had come in contact with on this plane. “Why are you here?” he asked finally.
She shrugged. “Looking for divinity, the same as everyone else.”
The flippancy of her answer renewed his focus. “You murdered two innocent women.”
Her smile was sharp. “Believe me, they were both far from innocent.” The sharpness was gone in an instant. “I’m Maryanne, by the way.”
No doubt a bastardized version of her true name. Castiel’s hands clenched in frustration. “You need to leave this place, now.”
“Now why would I do that?” She half turned to the house. “Everything’s all set. I’ve just been waiting for the town folk to return with Sam Merlotte. But I think I’ve found something better.”
She moved quickly, and Castiel found himself pinned to a tree. She was inhumanly strong. Maryanne studied him, eyes full of pleasure. “I thought Merlotte was the vessel. He came to me so young, so innocent. Fresh and clean.” Her smile faded. “He’s changed, though. Life has been hard for him. But you.” Her index finger left his neck, rubbing against the line of his jaw. “You are already a vessel for the divine, a gateway between worlds, not of this world or the other, but something bridging the divide.” Her eyes closed, forehead leaning against his. “You’re perfect.”
Dean came back to himself slowly, head pounding, eyes fuzzy. He found Sookie after she screamed, cornered by three possessed women. He managed to knock two of them out while the third disappeared into the house. They were on their way out when he spotted Lafayette curled in a ball by the bathroom door. The next thing he knew he was waking up.
They needed to make appointments for a CAT scan soon, he mused. Getting knocked unconscious was bad for the brain.
“Now, who would have thought the two of you would be so difficult to deal with?” Maryanne asked as she fixed her makeup. Women, some he vaguely remembered seeing from Bon Temps, circled the creature. Three of them were fixing her hair into a cascade of curls while another smoothed the pleats of her gown. Great, he was going to die in a bad version of My Fair Wedding.
“What can I say? Life’s a bitch, bitch.” Talking made his jaw hurt, and Dean growled. He was so gonna get that fry cook back for sucker punching him.
Maryanne met Dean’s glare in the mirror. “But I thought we were getting along so well.” She smoothed on a layer of foundation. “I mean, you certainly enjoyed my stew, and my company before your brother called you away.”
“Nothing like a little acid between friends,” Dean muttered, twisting his hands. He had to give it to whoever tied him up… they knew their knots. “So now what? You gonna bore me to death?”
Maryanne’s laugh was bubbly as ever. “Of course not. You’re going to play a very special role in my ceremony. It is my wedding day after all.”
Dean’s laugh made her smile slip. “Please, Lady. I’ve had some chicks try and talk me into getting hitched before, but this is going a little far, don’t you think?”
She smiled. “Oh, I’m not getting married to you, though you are pretty. I’ve waited so long, tried to find the perfect vessel for centuries. And he just dropped into my lap today.” She wiped her hands and reached for her eyeliner. “I mean, I thought it was Sam all these years. Poor little lost Sam. But God provides for his faithful. Thank you, for bringing him to me.”
“Cas?” Dean tried to rock the chair, but it was sturdy old wood. Damn southern craftsmanship. “What the fuck did you do with him you dusty-cunted bitch?”
“You have quite a mouth on you, don’t you?” Maryanne’s expression darkened. “Your friend…Castiel?... is safe for the moment. It’s not yet time for the ceremony. I wonder where you found him.” The amusement was back in her tone. “Fallen angels are at a premium.”
“Let’s get to the part where you tell me why you haven’t killed me yet.”
She waved the women away from her and they filed silently out the door. “I’ve been trying to figure you and your brother out, Dean.” She said as she came to a stop in front of him. “Normally, it’s just those of the supernatural persuasion that are hard to take over. The two of you, however…”
The hunter’s eyes widened as Maryanne began to blur in front of him, shaking faster than any human could. He tried to back further into the chair, as far away as he could manage.
“See,” she said after a moment. “You should be just like the rest of them, but you’re not.” Her expression was curious. “Why are you holding on so hard, Dean?”
“I’m not buying what you’re selling,” he growled. He hoped Sam would realize he hadn't checked in and turn back around. All he could do was buy time.
“Now, I don’t believe that.” Maryanne leaned closer. “There’s just something about you, Dean Winchester. Something dark. Something you’re afraid to let out…” she turned his head until she was looking into his eyes. “What are you hiding in there?”
Dean could feel her, rummaging around. Could feel when she touched the first blood drenched shards of his memories. No, no, nonononono, he fought to push her out, calling her every name he could think of. It wasn’t until he was drenched in cold sweat that she pulled away.
“Well, now that is something,” she mused with a smile. “All that pain. All that rage, just seething beneath the surface. All this time I’ve been pressing the wrong buttons.” She started vibrating again, slower, and Dean could feel it this time, welling from the pit of his stomach. He pitched forward, but two of the women were behind him, keeping his chair upright.
When Maryanne stopped Dean’s head was down, chin to his chest. “Well, that didn’t go like I planned.” With a sigh she turned to the others. “Ladies, get me a wheelbarrow. I think I overcooked him.” As they ran to comply she sighed deeply. “Such a shame,” she said, brushing a hand over her dress. “I was hoping I could get through to you.” She reached out to lift his head.
The hunter turned his head faster than she could respond, catching her thumb and taking off a chunk of flesh. She pulled back her hand, holding the bleeding digit away from her dress. “Looks like there’s life left in you after all.”
Dean looked up; eyes coal black and shining, dark blood running down his chin.
“You just want to tear into me, don’t you?” Maryanne asked. His only response was a wide smile. “Well, if everything goes right tonight, I’ll make you a promise.” She reached out, slower this time. The hunter didn’t move, just stared as her hands brushed through his hair and she circled behind him. “Behave yourself until the ceremony is over, and you can play with whoever you want.” Her hand followed the curve of his shoulder to his wrists, and the knots keeping him in place. “Even sweet little Sookie.”
His head came up.
“She’s in the other room, getting ready. All that blonde hair and pale, pale skin. Play along, and she’s all yours. Deal?”
Maryanne met his eyes in the mirror.
Sam’s heart stopped as they approached.
Sookie’s house looked like something out of a horror movie. He knew Mrs. Stackhouse, knew the pride she took in her home and garden. The Stackhouse home might have been weathered and worn, but its gutters were always clean, the house free of even the smallest splash of mud.
Now the two-story looked as if the earth was attempting to reclaim it. Dark mud splashed as far up as the eaves, laden with leaves and branches. His eyes, always sharp and now enhanced with Bill’s blood could make out the creatures crawling among them: beetles and crickets, roaches and worms. In the yard stood something whose stench sat heavy and rank on the air. The shape of the statue; faceless, body a single sinuous line with arms reaching heavenward was familiar. It was the first thing he saw all those years ago in her house, an object that called to him with some unknown power.
“What is that?” Bill asked beside him.
“Evil,” he whispered back. Their plan needed to work. Maryanne wanted to die, craved death, and it was only her god who could give it to her. His heart pounded with the strength of Bill’s blood, his skin tight and tingling. Focus. He had to focus.
“Remember what you’re supposed to do,” Bill said, as if sensing his attention failing.
“I remember.” He needed to shift into a bull as big and white as he could manage without hurting himself. Get close enough to tear out her heart. He thought back on poor Evette, on Tara, on the people even now gathered in Sookie’s front yard. “Shift, then kill her.”
Bill didn’t move. “I hope you are successful.”
Sam took a breath. “Me, too.”
When Lafayette brought Sookie out of the house he felt Bill tense behind him. “Remember what you’re supposed to do,” he said.
“She has Sookie.”
“And we’ll get her back.” Sam took a deep breath. “Let’s do this.”
“Maryanne!” Bill’s voice cut through the sounds of the possessed crowd, louder than Sam would have thought possible.
The dark-haired creature turned to them, her smile wide. “Bill Compton,” her voice was honey and smoke. “And Sam Merlotte. Welcome.”
“I brought him, as you wanted.” Bill pushed Sam forward. "I'll give him to you if you let Sookie go."
Her smile became indulgent. “Oh, I’m afraid the plan has changed.” She lifted her chin and the crowd shifted. Four men carried a bound man who struggled feebly, blood pouring down one side of his face. Behind them Lafayette dragged Sookie. "Now," she said as the men bound Castiel to her altar. "Shall we begin?"
He was dying.
It was different from the death he suffered at Raphael’s hands. That death had been sudden, over before he could truly feel anything other than dread at having to face his brother in battle.
This was different. He felt the blade pierce his heart. Felt the rib give way as the maenad forced her way inside him. There was pain, pain unlike any he could remember. It paralleled that felt by Jimmy when he was shot. Blood was leaving him, faster than he would have imagined possible. His vessel was failing even as the dammed force of his grace attempted to seal the wound.
Castiel’s eyes swept the crowd in front of him. The townspeople were all staring, eyes clouded with the maenad’s influence. An angel was dying in front of them, one of God’s soldiers. He died for these people once, fought heaven and hell and everything in-between to keep them safe.
Jimmy, he reached out to his host and felt the human bubble to the surface. I’m sorry, Jimmy. He felt a flutter as the human’s soul faded, something that could have been a caress brushing against his grace.
Knew this would get me killed, he didn’t know if the voice was his vessel’s, or a memory of it as they died, but it seemed fitting.
Dean…he tried to reach out to his charge, so close but held in thrall like the others, staring at him with black eyes. Dean…
Dean.
He flinched. Something was calling to him, reaching through the haze to pull him back. He fought it, rearing back against the pressure. It wasn’t over yet. She’d promised him. Promised that he could play with the people of this town, with Sookie. He’d make her whimper, at first. Listen as she begged and pleaded. It would be so sweet…
Dean…
Dean lurched forward, falling to his knees. “What the fuck?” He lifted his head, trying to get his bearings. The last thing he remembered was being tied to a chair while the maenad tried to get him on her side. Now he was surrounded by people, kneeling in the dirt.
“NO!”
Sookie’s voice cut through the haze. Dean snapped back to himself with a groan. It felt like the mother of all hangovers was battling with the worst migraine he’d ever had. “Sookie!”He was running before he realized it, shoving through the sea of white shrouded bodies. He was halfway to her when something else caught his attention. Castiel was tied up, Maryanne standing in front of him. The angel shuddered as Maryanne ripped into his chest, mouth open in a silent scream. Hands grabbed at him, tried to slow him down and he struck out, kicking, punching.
“Let him go,” Maryanne said, and the hands were gone.
He ignored the maenad for the moment, eyes focused on his friend. Castiel’s eyes were wide, his chest laboring. “Cas!” He reached up, turned the angel’s face to his. “Hey, stay with me.”
His only answer was a quiet sigh as his friend died.
Maryanne said something, but Dean couldn’t hear it over the rushing in his ears. He was going to kill that bitch. The knife she used to kill Castiel was forgotten on its pillow. He grabbed it and spun Maryanne around. Her eyes were wide when he raised the knife, only for strong arms to grab him from behind and wrestle him to the ground. Somewhere to his left Merlotte was yelling, telling Sookie to use her powers, destroy the altar, but he kept his eyes on Maryanne. Somehow, someway, he was going to kill her.
Castiel opened his eyes. He was lying down in a field, tall grass and blue sky filling his vision. He sat up slowly, hand going to his side. He couldn’t feel a wound, or any wetness. When he looked down he saw the blue shirt he wore was clean and whole.
The angel looked around him, trying to find anything familiar. He was lying in a field, the grass around him dotted with multicolored flowers. Insects buzzed around him, and in the distance white-capped mountains teased the sky.
“We need to stop meeting like this.”
He turned towards the voice. A figure was sitting beside him, clad in flowing robes.
“This is the second time I’ve had to put you back together, Castiel. I must have added more recklessness that I originally planned.”
“I’m…sorry?” He stared at the owner of the voice. He couldn’t discern whether it was male or female. The race was just as ambiguous. The figure shifted, knees coming up so its forearms could rest on them.
“Don’t worry. You don’t remember the last time. You won’t remember this time, either. Just thought we should talk.”
“Where am I?” He remembered being tied to an altar and being stabbed through the heart. Remembered feeling himself dying and calling out to Dean, hoping to save him from the creature’s hold.
“This?” It waved a hand, taking in their surroundings. “This is the south of France, nearly fifty thousand years ago.”
The angel stared. “I’m in France?”
“Yep.”
“I’m alive?”
The figure laughed. “Oh no, not really. You’re… between, Castiel.” It turned its face to him and smiled. “You have so much faith, in Me. In My creations. I thought it was time we spoke again.”
“Your…” he stopped, unable to continue. It couldn’t be…it wasn’t possible…
“Everything is possible through faith. You should know that better than most.” God plucked a purple flower and held it out to him.
He took it, careful to keep their fingers from brushing. He looked inward. “I can’t feel Jimmy.”
God looked away, face turned to the sky. “We needed some time alone, Castiel. Don’t worry, Jimmy is around. I just wanted to ask you about your plans.”
“Plans?”
“Yes! What do you plan on doing if I return you to your time?”
“Dean needs me.” He was surrounded by the maenad’s followers. There was no knowing what she would do when she discovered he was able to break through her glamour. God could return him to the moment of his death so he could save him.
“Dean is safe for the moment. Safer than he normally is.” God smiled, and the sun seemed to shine a little brighter. “There is quite a bond between the two of you. Stronger than I anticipated.”
“You… Lucifer is free.” The words tumbled out of him. “The apocalypse is brewing on earth, as it was written.”
God sighed. “I know.”
“And you will do nothing?”
“Your brothers have been having fun while I was away. Too much fun, in My opinion. And Lucifer…” God sighed, and the sound was filled with such sadness it broke Castiel’s heart. “He never learns. You’d think that time-out would have taught him.” God leaned back into the grass, arms spread wide. “It’s my fault, really. I made him too headstrong, too proud. Lucifer will be dealt with in his own time, Castiel.”
“And what of the people he kills?” He didn’t understand. How could God, the Father of all, be so blasé? “The destruction he causes? You can return him before any of this happens.”
God shrugged. “I could. But I won’t.”
The angel stared. “The world will burn.”
“Maybe.”
Castiel frowned. “You mean to let the apocalypse happen? To let Your creation be burned to a cinder and You plan on doing nothing to stop it?” A creation we fought a war for, he thought. The creation You punished Your most favored son for.
“You can’t keep cleaning up your children’s messes.” A butterfly landed on God’s nose, blue wings opening and closing lazily before it fluttered away. “If they can get into them, they have to learn to get out of them.” The deity leaned forward. “But between you and Me? I don’t think the apocalypse is going to end the way everyone thinks it will. Things have a way of righting themselves when they go wrong, with or without My help.”
Castiel said nothing. A breeze blew, ruffling the long sleeves of God’s robes. The apocalypse was millennia away; his charges had yet to be born. Somewhere he was in heaven, following his orders and never imagining that he could rebel against the Way. It was peaceful in the glade, calm. All of God’s creations living in perfect harmony with their surroundings.
He couldn’t stand it.
“You asked what I would do if You sent me back,” he started slowly. “I would fight against Lucifer. I would try to keep Sam from saying yes. I would fight to keep the world safe, whether You were willing to help me or not.”
God smiled. “I knew there was a reason I chose you to be the one, Castiel, and you don’t disappoint.”
Before the angel could respond two fingers touched his forehead.
“Cas, come on man, say something.”
Castiel blinked his eyes open. Dean was leaning over him, green eyes wide and wet. “Dean?”
Dean’s eyes went to his, followed by a wide smile. “Jesus, man. You scared the hell out of me.”
He sat up. There were people milling around them, white clad figures dazed from the maenad. Some had been under her influence for days, bodies pushed to excess and no doubt exhausted now that they were no longer under her thrall. “What happened?”
“That bitch stabbed you,” Dean explained. “Then Sookie… I still don’t know what the hell she did, but she managed to knock that tree-thing down.”
Castiel stood, pulling Dean with him. He breathed in and felt…different. The chains that had held his grace were gone. He spread his wings for the first time since waking at the crossroads.
“Whoa…Cas… what’re you doing?”
Castiel turned to his charge. Dean was staring at him, eyes wide. Some of the people of Bon Temps were staring as well. They couldn’t see his wings, but they could feel them, feel the tangible evidence of his power as it weaved through the air around them.
“I have been freed from my chains,” he explained, reaching out with his senses. The vampire was close by, the bright flare of Sookie’s energies nearly eclipsing his darkness. The shapeshifter was two hundred yards away from them, hidden from human sight in the thick trees. The maenad was gone, her presence extinguished.
“The maenad is dead,” he informed them.
“Good.” Dean eyed him warily. “So… you’re…you?”
“Yes. I am as I was.” Or maybe not. He felt more than he had been, somehow, and at the same time less. He remembered the silvered halls of Heaven, but he also remembered being a little boy sitting on a porch, waiting for his father to come home. James?
The consciousness of his host flared to life for the briefest moment, then flickered to nothingness.
“James still inhabits this body with me.”
Dean’s mouth worked for a moment, intent on saying something before Sookie flew into his arms.
“Dean!”
He hugged her back before holding her at arm’s length. “She didn’t hurt you?”
Sookie shook her head. “No. She just wanted me to do…things…” her eyes clouded. “You got caught.”
“It happens.” He looked around. “We need to get these people out of here before they start asking questions. Speaking of…” he trailed off, eyes searching the crowd. “Lafayette!”
Previous
Author's Note: Holy Hell, it's been nearly a year since I updated this beast. This chapter was the hardest, and I couldn't get it right no matter how many times I rewrote it, so I finally decided to stop waffling and get it done. The Epilogue will be up by Friday.
Thank you to everyone who had read this story!
Author: dragon_fall
Fandoms: Supernatural/True Blood
Rating: R
Word Count: 49,382 (so far)
Warnings: none yet
Spoilers: Supernatural through season 4, TrueBlood through seasons 1 and 2
Summary: After Lucifer is freed from the cage Castiel is MIA. Sam and Dean roll into Bon Temps in search of answers and find more questions than either hunter imagined.
Author's Note: Takes place after Lucifer Rising and at the beginning of True Blood Season 2. Since I started writing this years ago it is slightly AU in the True Blood universe, but pieces from the second season will be working themselves in.
This isn’t a good idea.
Castiel shook his head, trying to force his host back into unconsciousness. This is something we must do. Dean will not survive a confrontation with this creature. She will tear him apart.
Jimmy gave something close to a huff. He’s a hunter. Aren’t they supposed to deal with this kind of thing every day?
Gods and elder creatures are far more difficult to deal with than werewolves and vampires. Castiel supplied, keeping his senses open. There are things that have not been seen since before man invented language.
And you’ve been depowered, remember? What are we gonna do, spit on her? What if she tears me in two?
Then she will have released me from your body. Once I have destroyed her, I will resurrect you.
To spend the next who knows how long being your meat suit? No thanks. I’ve had enough of the tilt-a-whirl for one lifetime.
Castiel remained silent. They had a plan, a good plan. Sookie’s vampire was supposed to speak to his Queen in the hope of discovering the means of killing the bacchante. Sam and Bobby traveled back to Benjamin’s, not content to trust the knowledge of something they considered an enemy. Dean and Castiel returned to Lafayette’s home to find it empty, a brief note from Sookie stating that Tara escaped and went to rescue her boyfriend, and they were following.
Dean spent the entire ride to Sookie’s cursing.
His plan was simple: Sneak up to the house, see if he could find either Sookie or her friends, and get them out. He disappeared into the house ten minutes before, and both Castiel and Jimmy were beginning to feel the first slivers of dread.
If he’s dead, then we’re next. What if your brothers did something that keeps you from coming back? I never signed up for this shit.
The angel was close to conceding the point when he felt it; a dark, harsh grating against his grace. He spun as the wind picked up, trying to locate the source.
“Well, look at you.”Castiel turned. A woman was standing behind him, arms folded, one finger teasing her bottom lip, but it wasn’t a woman. He could feel the otherness of her, a skittering crawl across the nerves of his host. She was old, powerful, and the dammed strength of his grace rushed against his bindings. The creature came towards him, dark eyes smiling. “You know, the last time I saw your kind a carpenter was being nailed to a cross.”
He pulled himself to his full height. “What do you want?”
“No need to be hostile,” she pouted, eyes dewy with false hurt. “After all, we’re practically on the same team, aren’t we?”
Castiel bristled. “You are an agent of chaos. I am a soldier of God. We are not on the same team.”
The woman sighed, the move lifting her breasts beneath the thin fabric of her gown. “No need to get feisty.” She circled him slowly. “I just meant we’re both on our own, fighting to survive in this world.” She stopped and gave him an appraising look. “How long have you been Fallen?”
“I am not…” he trailed off. Wasn’t he? Heaven had turned his back on him, Lucifer freed him.
“It must be hard for you, being on your own.” The creature was closer now, eyes wide and sincere. “I’ve met a few like you. Lost. Alone. Abandoned. By those who were supposed to be their family, their brothers in arms.”
Castiel watched her. Here was a creature who could understand something of his age. She was old, ancient. Not nearly as old as him or even the youngest of the host, but still older than any he had come in contact with on this plane. “Why are you here?” he asked finally.
She shrugged. “Looking for divinity, the same as everyone else.”
The flippancy of her answer renewed his focus. “You murdered two innocent women.”
Her smile was sharp. “Believe me, they were both far from innocent.” The sharpness was gone in an instant. “I’m Maryanne, by the way.”
No doubt a bastardized version of her true name. Castiel’s hands clenched in frustration. “You need to leave this place, now.”
“Now why would I do that?” She half turned to the house. “Everything’s all set. I’ve just been waiting for the town folk to return with Sam Merlotte. But I think I’ve found something better.”
She moved quickly, and Castiel found himself pinned to a tree. She was inhumanly strong. Maryanne studied him, eyes full of pleasure. “I thought Merlotte was the vessel. He came to me so young, so innocent. Fresh and clean.” Her smile faded. “He’s changed, though. Life has been hard for him. But you.” Her index finger left his neck, rubbing against the line of his jaw. “You are already a vessel for the divine, a gateway between worlds, not of this world or the other, but something bridging the divide.” Her eyes closed, forehead leaning against his. “You’re perfect.”
Dean came back to himself slowly, head pounding, eyes fuzzy. He found Sookie after she screamed, cornered by three possessed women. He managed to knock two of them out while the third disappeared into the house. They were on their way out when he spotted Lafayette curled in a ball by the bathroom door. The next thing he knew he was waking up.
They needed to make appointments for a CAT scan soon, he mused. Getting knocked unconscious was bad for the brain.
“Now, who would have thought the two of you would be so difficult to deal with?” Maryanne asked as she fixed her makeup. Women, some he vaguely remembered seeing from Bon Temps, circled the creature. Three of them were fixing her hair into a cascade of curls while another smoothed the pleats of her gown. Great, he was going to die in a bad version of My Fair Wedding.
“What can I say? Life’s a bitch, bitch.” Talking made his jaw hurt, and Dean growled. He was so gonna get that fry cook back for sucker punching him.
Maryanne met Dean’s glare in the mirror. “But I thought we were getting along so well.” She smoothed on a layer of foundation. “I mean, you certainly enjoyed my stew, and my company before your brother called you away.”
“Nothing like a little acid between friends,” Dean muttered, twisting his hands. He had to give it to whoever tied him up… they knew their knots. “So now what? You gonna bore me to death?”
Maryanne’s laugh was bubbly as ever. “Of course not. You’re going to play a very special role in my ceremony. It is my wedding day after all.”
Dean’s laugh made her smile slip. “Please, Lady. I’ve had some chicks try and talk me into getting hitched before, but this is going a little far, don’t you think?”
She smiled. “Oh, I’m not getting married to you, though you are pretty. I’ve waited so long, tried to find the perfect vessel for centuries. And he just dropped into my lap today.” She wiped her hands and reached for her eyeliner. “I mean, I thought it was Sam all these years. Poor little lost Sam. But God provides for his faithful. Thank you, for bringing him to me.”
“Cas?” Dean tried to rock the chair, but it was sturdy old wood. Damn southern craftsmanship. “What the fuck did you do with him you dusty-cunted bitch?”
“You have quite a mouth on you, don’t you?” Maryanne’s expression darkened. “Your friend…Castiel?... is safe for the moment. It’s not yet time for the ceremony. I wonder where you found him.” The amusement was back in her tone. “Fallen angels are at a premium.”
“Let’s get to the part where you tell me why you haven’t killed me yet.”
She waved the women away from her and they filed silently out the door. “I’ve been trying to figure you and your brother out, Dean.” She said as she came to a stop in front of him. “Normally, it’s just those of the supernatural persuasion that are hard to take over. The two of you, however…”
The hunter’s eyes widened as Maryanne began to blur in front of him, shaking faster than any human could. He tried to back further into the chair, as far away as he could manage.
“See,” she said after a moment. “You should be just like the rest of them, but you’re not.” Her expression was curious. “Why are you holding on so hard, Dean?”
“I’m not buying what you’re selling,” he growled. He hoped Sam would realize he hadn't checked in and turn back around. All he could do was buy time.
“Now, I don’t believe that.” Maryanne leaned closer. “There’s just something about you, Dean Winchester. Something dark. Something you’re afraid to let out…” she turned his head until she was looking into his eyes. “What are you hiding in there?”
Dean could feel her, rummaging around. Could feel when she touched the first blood drenched shards of his memories. No, no, nonononono, he fought to push her out, calling her every name he could think of. It wasn’t until he was drenched in cold sweat that she pulled away.
“Well, now that is something,” she mused with a smile. “All that pain. All that rage, just seething beneath the surface. All this time I’ve been pressing the wrong buttons.” She started vibrating again, slower, and Dean could feel it this time, welling from the pit of his stomach. He pitched forward, but two of the women were behind him, keeping his chair upright.
When Maryanne stopped Dean’s head was down, chin to his chest. “Well, that didn’t go like I planned.” With a sigh she turned to the others. “Ladies, get me a wheelbarrow. I think I overcooked him.” As they ran to comply she sighed deeply. “Such a shame,” she said, brushing a hand over her dress. “I was hoping I could get through to you.” She reached out to lift his head.
The hunter turned his head faster than she could respond, catching her thumb and taking off a chunk of flesh. She pulled back her hand, holding the bleeding digit away from her dress. “Looks like there’s life left in you after all.”
Dean looked up; eyes coal black and shining, dark blood running down his chin.
“You just want to tear into me, don’t you?” Maryanne asked. His only response was a wide smile. “Well, if everything goes right tonight, I’ll make you a promise.” She reached out, slower this time. The hunter didn’t move, just stared as her hands brushed through his hair and she circled behind him. “Behave yourself until the ceremony is over, and you can play with whoever you want.” Her hand followed the curve of his shoulder to his wrists, and the knots keeping him in place. “Even sweet little Sookie.”
His head came up.
“She’s in the other room, getting ready. All that blonde hair and pale, pale skin. Play along, and she’s all yours. Deal?”
Maryanne met his eyes in the mirror.
Sam’s heart stopped as they approached.
Sookie’s house looked like something out of a horror movie. He knew Mrs. Stackhouse, knew the pride she took in her home and garden. The Stackhouse home might have been weathered and worn, but its gutters were always clean, the house free of even the smallest splash of mud.
Now the two-story looked as if the earth was attempting to reclaim it. Dark mud splashed as far up as the eaves, laden with leaves and branches. His eyes, always sharp and now enhanced with Bill’s blood could make out the creatures crawling among them: beetles and crickets, roaches and worms. In the yard stood something whose stench sat heavy and rank on the air. The shape of the statue; faceless, body a single sinuous line with arms reaching heavenward was familiar. It was the first thing he saw all those years ago in her house, an object that called to him with some unknown power.
“What is that?” Bill asked beside him.
“Evil,” he whispered back. Their plan needed to work. Maryanne wanted to die, craved death, and it was only her god who could give it to her. His heart pounded with the strength of Bill’s blood, his skin tight and tingling. Focus. He had to focus.
“Remember what you’re supposed to do,” Bill said, as if sensing his attention failing.
“I remember.” He needed to shift into a bull as big and white as he could manage without hurting himself. Get close enough to tear out her heart. He thought back on poor Evette, on Tara, on the people even now gathered in Sookie’s front yard. “Shift, then kill her.”
Bill didn’t move. “I hope you are successful.”
Sam took a breath. “Me, too.”
When Lafayette brought Sookie out of the house he felt Bill tense behind him. “Remember what you’re supposed to do,” he said.
“She has Sookie.”
“And we’ll get her back.” Sam took a deep breath. “Let’s do this.”
“Maryanne!” Bill’s voice cut through the sounds of the possessed crowd, louder than Sam would have thought possible.
The dark-haired creature turned to them, her smile wide. “Bill Compton,” her voice was honey and smoke. “And Sam Merlotte. Welcome.”
“I brought him, as you wanted.” Bill pushed Sam forward. "I'll give him to you if you let Sookie go."
Her smile became indulgent. “Oh, I’m afraid the plan has changed.” She lifted her chin and the crowd shifted. Four men carried a bound man who struggled feebly, blood pouring down one side of his face. Behind them Lafayette dragged Sookie. "Now," she said as the men bound Castiel to her altar. "Shall we begin?"
He was dying.
It was different from the death he suffered at Raphael’s hands. That death had been sudden, over before he could truly feel anything other than dread at having to face his brother in battle.
This was different. He felt the blade pierce his heart. Felt the rib give way as the maenad forced her way inside him. There was pain, pain unlike any he could remember. It paralleled that felt by Jimmy when he was shot. Blood was leaving him, faster than he would have imagined possible. His vessel was failing even as the dammed force of his grace attempted to seal the wound.
Castiel’s eyes swept the crowd in front of him. The townspeople were all staring, eyes clouded with the maenad’s influence. An angel was dying in front of them, one of God’s soldiers. He died for these people once, fought heaven and hell and everything in-between to keep them safe.
Jimmy, he reached out to his host and felt the human bubble to the surface. I’m sorry, Jimmy. He felt a flutter as the human’s soul faded, something that could have been a caress brushing against his grace.
Knew this would get me killed, he didn’t know if the voice was his vessel’s, or a memory of it as they died, but it seemed fitting.
Dean…he tried to reach out to his charge, so close but held in thrall like the others, staring at him with black eyes. Dean…
Dean.
He flinched. Something was calling to him, reaching through the haze to pull him back. He fought it, rearing back against the pressure. It wasn’t over yet. She’d promised him. Promised that he could play with the people of this town, with Sookie. He’d make her whimper, at first. Listen as she begged and pleaded. It would be so sweet…
Dean…
Dean lurched forward, falling to his knees. “What the fuck?” He lifted his head, trying to get his bearings. The last thing he remembered was being tied to a chair while the maenad tried to get him on her side. Now he was surrounded by people, kneeling in the dirt.
“NO!”
Sookie’s voice cut through the haze. Dean snapped back to himself with a groan. It felt like the mother of all hangovers was battling with the worst migraine he’d ever had. “Sookie!”He was running before he realized it, shoving through the sea of white shrouded bodies. He was halfway to her when something else caught his attention. Castiel was tied up, Maryanne standing in front of him. The angel shuddered as Maryanne ripped into his chest, mouth open in a silent scream. Hands grabbed at him, tried to slow him down and he struck out, kicking, punching.
“Let him go,” Maryanne said, and the hands were gone.
He ignored the maenad for the moment, eyes focused on his friend. Castiel’s eyes were wide, his chest laboring. “Cas!” He reached up, turned the angel’s face to his. “Hey, stay with me.”
His only answer was a quiet sigh as his friend died.
Maryanne said something, but Dean couldn’t hear it over the rushing in his ears. He was going to kill that bitch. The knife she used to kill Castiel was forgotten on its pillow. He grabbed it and spun Maryanne around. Her eyes were wide when he raised the knife, only for strong arms to grab him from behind and wrestle him to the ground. Somewhere to his left Merlotte was yelling, telling Sookie to use her powers, destroy the altar, but he kept his eyes on Maryanne. Somehow, someway, he was going to kill her.
Castiel opened his eyes. He was lying down in a field, tall grass and blue sky filling his vision. He sat up slowly, hand going to his side. He couldn’t feel a wound, or any wetness. When he looked down he saw the blue shirt he wore was clean and whole.
The angel looked around him, trying to find anything familiar. He was lying in a field, the grass around him dotted with multicolored flowers. Insects buzzed around him, and in the distance white-capped mountains teased the sky.
“We need to stop meeting like this.”
He turned towards the voice. A figure was sitting beside him, clad in flowing robes.
“This is the second time I’ve had to put you back together, Castiel. I must have added more recklessness that I originally planned.”
“I’m…sorry?” He stared at the owner of the voice. He couldn’t discern whether it was male or female. The race was just as ambiguous. The figure shifted, knees coming up so its forearms could rest on them.
“Don’t worry. You don’t remember the last time. You won’t remember this time, either. Just thought we should talk.”
“Where am I?” He remembered being tied to an altar and being stabbed through the heart. Remembered feeling himself dying and calling out to Dean, hoping to save him from the creature’s hold.
“This?” It waved a hand, taking in their surroundings. “This is the south of France, nearly fifty thousand years ago.”
The angel stared. “I’m in France?”
“Yep.”
“I’m alive?”
The figure laughed. “Oh no, not really. You’re… between, Castiel.” It turned its face to him and smiled. “You have so much faith, in Me. In My creations. I thought it was time we spoke again.”
“Your…” he stopped, unable to continue. It couldn’t be…it wasn’t possible…
“Everything is possible through faith. You should know that better than most.” God plucked a purple flower and held it out to him.
He took it, careful to keep their fingers from brushing. He looked inward. “I can’t feel Jimmy.”
God looked away, face turned to the sky. “We needed some time alone, Castiel. Don’t worry, Jimmy is around. I just wanted to ask you about your plans.”
“Plans?”
“Yes! What do you plan on doing if I return you to your time?”
“Dean needs me.” He was surrounded by the maenad’s followers. There was no knowing what she would do when she discovered he was able to break through her glamour. God could return him to the moment of his death so he could save him.
“Dean is safe for the moment. Safer than he normally is.” God smiled, and the sun seemed to shine a little brighter. “There is quite a bond between the two of you. Stronger than I anticipated.”
“You… Lucifer is free.” The words tumbled out of him. “The apocalypse is brewing on earth, as it was written.”
God sighed. “I know.”
“And you will do nothing?”
“Your brothers have been having fun while I was away. Too much fun, in My opinion. And Lucifer…” God sighed, and the sound was filled with such sadness it broke Castiel’s heart. “He never learns. You’d think that time-out would have taught him.” God leaned back into the grass, arms spread wide. “It’s my fault, really. I made him too headstrong, too proud. Lucifer will be dealt with in his own time, Castiel.”
“And what of the people he kills?” He didn’t understand. How could God, the Father of all, be so blasé? “The destruction he causes? You can return him before any of this happens.”
God shrugged. “I could. But I won’t.”
The angel stared. “The world will burn.”
“Maybe.”
Castiel frowned. “You mean to let the apocalypse happen? To let Your creation be burned to a cinder and You plan on doing nothing to stop it?” A creation we fought a war for, he thought. The creation You punished Your most favored son for.
“You can’t keep cleaning up your children’s messes.” A butterfly landed on God’s nose, blue wings opening and closing lazily before it fluttered away. “If they can get into them, they have to learn to get out of them.” The deity leaned forward. “But between you and Me? I don’t think the apocalypse is going to end the way everyone thinks it will. Things have a way of righting themselves when they go wrong, with or without My help.”
Castiel said nothing. A breeze blew, ruffling the long sleeves of God’s robes. The apocalypse was millennia away; his charges had yet to be born. Somewhere he was in heaven, following his orders and never imagining that he could rebel against the Way. It was peaceful in the glade, calm. All of God’s creations living in perfect harmony with their surroundings.
He couldn’t stand it.
“You asked what I would do if You sent me back,” he started slowly. “I would fight against Lucifer. I would try to keep Sam from saying yes. I would fight to keep the world safe, whether You were willing to help me or not.”
God smiled. “I knew there was a reason I chose you to be the one, Castiel, and you don’t disappoint.”
Before the angel could respond two fingers touched his forehead.
“Cas, come on man, say something.”
Castiel blinked his eyes open. Dean was leaning over him, green eyes wide and wet. “Dean?”
Dean’s eyes went to his, followed by a wide smile. “Jesus, man. You scared the hell out of me.”
He sat up. There were people milling around them, white clad figures dazed from the maenad. Some had been under her influence for days, bodies pushed to excess and no doubt exhausted now that they were no longer under her thrall. “What happened?”
“That bitch stabbed you,” Dean explained. “Then Sookie… I still don’t know what the hell she did, but she managed to knock that tree-thing down.”
Castiel stood, pulling Dean with him. He breathed in and felt…different. The chains that had held his grace were gone. He spread his wings for the first time since waking at the crossroads.
“Whoa…Cas… what’re you doing?”
Castiel turned to his charge. Dean was staring at him, eyes wide. Some of the people of Bon Temps were staring as well. They couldn’t see his wings, but they could feel them, feel the tangible evidence of his power as it weaved through the air around them.
“I have been freed from my chains,” he explained, reaching out with his senses. The vampire was close by, the bright flare of Sookie’s energies nearly eclipsing his darkness. The shapeshifter was two hundred yards away from them, hidden from human sight in the thick trees. The maenad was gone, her presence extinguished.
“The maenad is dead,” he informed them.
“Good.” Dean eyed him warily. “So… you’re…you?”
“Yes. I am as I was.” Or maybe not. He felt more than he had been, somehow, and at the same time less. He remembered the silvered halls of Heaven, but he also remembered being a little boy sitting on a porch, waiting for his father to come home. James?
The consciousness of his host flared to life for the briefest moment, then flickered to nothingness.
“James still inhabits this body with me.”
Dean’s mouth worked for a moment, intent on saying something before Sookie flew into his arms.
“Dean!”
He hugged her back before holding her at arm’s length. “She didn’t hurt you?”
Sookie shook her head. “No. She just wanted me to do…things…” her eyes clouded. “You got caught.”
“It happens.” He looked around. “We need to get these people out of here before they start asking questions. Speaking of…” he trailed off, eyes searching the crowd. “Lafayette!”
Previous
Author's Note: Holy Hell, it's been nearly a year since I updated this beast. This chapter was the hardest, and I couldn't get it right no matter how many times I rewrote it, so I finally decided to stop waffling and get it done. The Epilogue will be up by Friday.
Thank you to everyone who had read this story!