I feel so far from where I've been 2/3

Nov 22, 2012 16:53

Part Two

The King of Hell walked around the hospital room. Save for the Djinn strapped on the hospital bed, he was alone. His hand hovered above the tray where the surgical tools lined up, wondering which one would be most effective to get him an answer from the un-cooperative monster beside him. Although, his mind wasn't really on the job at hand.

Crowley had always been meticulous. It was the case when he was alive and even more so after he ended in Hell for a deal he made with the former crossroad demon. He could admit in all honesty he thrived in the Underground, climbing the hierarchy ladder and making himself valuable. First by becoming the King of the Crossroads and then, using levers he had on various souls trapped in the Pit, becoming the King of Hell after Lucifer's demise. Crowley was a survivor first and an ambitious power-seeker second. Thus, he could detect deflection before it was apparent as it was the case with Castiel, the rebellious angel.

Crowley wasn't a fool. He knew the angel would soon start experiencing doubts. It was in the nature of celestial beings. Angels weren't equipped to deal with doubts. They could only see the world in either black or white, never the gray shades in-between. They were absolute. They were also boring and predictable. Until Castiel came along, rebelled against Heaven and stopped the Apocalypse.

Crowley approached the angel and told him his big idea of conquering Purgatory. After all, Dean Winchester had stopped hunting, Sam's soul was trapped in the Cage along with Michael and Lucifer, and Castiel, himself at war with the last archangel, was even more left out and alone. The timing was perfect for a coup. Or would have been, if Crowley had not made the mistake of underestimating the attachment the angel had toward its human pets.

At first, he believed he would be able to manipulate the hunters. After all, they were only humans and he was still in possession of Bobby Singer's soul. There was no way the two flannel-shirted hooligans tried to get back at him as long as the soul of their surrogate father was bound for Hell. They understood what was at stake. Yet, they managed to find his earthly remains, forcing him to step down and relinquish his claim on the old man. Not a good day.

It was then he staged his death with a little help from the angel. He would work better from the shadows. Castiel's doubts however, had caused the angel to lower his guard around the Winchester Nightmare and they had managed to put the pieces together, now aware that he was still alive. Crowley was sure it was that Eve bitch who told them. Castiel's inability to lie had simply confirmed the humans' suspicions. Crowley had to take some steps. He refused to fall into the same trap Lucifer, Lilith and Alistair did. He would take care of the Winchester. Permanently.

It was then Castiel had stepped in and declared the humans untouchables. He dared order Crowley around. Him! The bloody King of Hell! As if he was some low ranking, boot-licking, black-eyed no-spine crawling demon! Crowley's lips pulled back and he viciously stabbed the Djinn’s brain. The creature trashed violently but the bounds held tight. It died after a few minutes, its tattoos dripping onto the floor.

Crowley stepped back and dropped the iron pick into the surgery tray beside him. At first, the demon had agreed to play by Castiel's rules but with the angel's betrayal, he was no longer playing nice. Too bad the Winchester had friends who cared so much about them. Their disappearance might be what Crowley needed to remind the angel of his place. Otherwise, Crowley will simply jump on Plan B. After all, Castiel wasn't the only angel who might be interested in sharing the souls from Purgatory.

***

John opened his eyes and groaned. Pain drilled his head and the pressure behind his eyes increased. If he needed any more proof he was back to the land of livings, this was a good one. He hadn't recalled feeling this kind of pain, except in Hell, and the air didn't smell this nice in Hell. He felt something move beside him but, since he didn't have any strength left to move, he just lay there. John felt a brief, feather-like touch on his forehead and the pain disappeared in a matter of seconds. He opened his eyes again to see Castiel's face above him. “You've been dead for some time. It makes it difficult to re-establish the link between your soul and your body. This is what is causing you pain.” the angel explained.

“Thank you for the info, doctor House. Should've warned me before I agree to this crazy shit.” John pushed himself off the ground and sat down.

“You did not agree. You forced the issue. And I did warn you it would be difficult.” Castiel said, pining John with an unblinking pointed look.

“Whatever.” John shrugged and stood up. He checked himself to make sure he still had all his limbs. Luckily for him, the angel had thought of providing him with clothes.

The hunter took a few careful steps and looked around. They were in the woods and it was the beginning of the afternoon John guessed by the position of the sun. It was also very remote : no sound of human activity could be heard and John saw the grounds were clear from human's usual garbage. “Where are we exactly?” he asked.

“In a reserve called Hopewell Culture.”

“We're in West Virginia?”

“Yes. This place holds a reserve of spiritual and supernatural energies necessary to your resurrection.” the angel explained. “We should hurry. Crowley is probably aware that I no longer agree with his plan of opening Purgatory.”

“Could he still do it? Even with Eve being dead?” John asked, focused on the mission at hand.

“It won't stop him from hunting the alphas. He's probably even more dedicated to it now.”

“What you mean is that we have to protect monsters from demons?”

“Yes.” Castiel answered.

John made a face. Protecting monsters went against all the hunter's instincts he had. Seeing this, Castiel tilted his head, puzzled. “Should I have warned you about this too?”

John simply glared at him. “Let's go and get something to eat, I'm starving.” he said and walked out of the woods.

***

“You know, your sons had already found out about this place?” Castiel said. He was standing outside the unit John had rented just outside Buffalo. “Well, let's just hope they haven't taken everything I had stocked there.” John answered, working the lock open. The hunter had insisted Castiel flied the two of them right after they finished their meal. Literally since neither John or Castiel had any money to pay for the food. The theft had made the angel a bit uneasy but only for a fleeting moment. After all, they were on a mission and the human needed food.

“I still believe it would be easier if we just reunite you with Dean and Sam.” Castiel said as John finally managed to unlock the door. The hunter turned around and looked at him. “The boys already doubt your motives. How would it look if I showed up on Singer's doorsteps? Especially after Crowley got Campbell out of Hell to do his dirty business?”

“... Like I'm using you the same way Crowley did.”

“Exactly.” John entered the unit, carefully stepping around the traps hidden around the entrance.

Castiel stood in the doorway, watching silently while John picked up a duffel bag and started packing it with guns, rock salt, holy water and any weapons he thought would be useful. The hunter ventured deeper inside and away from the angel's unblinking gaze. John was happy to discover his sons hadn't found his secret money cache. In fact, few things were missing; a cursed box here, some souvenirs there, nothing that was very important. When he came back to the front, the angel was still standing in the doorway. “You are afraid to see them, even thought you yearn for it. Why?” Castiel asked, puzzled.

John concentrated on packing his bag. When he looked up, Castiel was still looking at him. John sighed. “Let just say our last meeting wasn't easy.”

“You have saved their lives. You sacrificed your soul to save Dean and you wrestled Azazel when the Hell gates opened.”

“It was also more than five years ago. The boys have changed and I haven't. We are more strangers to each other than we ever were.”

“Yet, you care about them.”

“Of course I do. They are still my sons.” John said. He pulled the bag's zipper close.

“Where to now?” he asked. Castiel wasn't fooled by John's tactic of changing subject but he had learned from his dealings with Dean never to push for explanations. “To Ellsworth.” he answered instead.

“Who or what is Ellsworth?”

“If there is a counterpart to Bobby Singer, Ellsworth is it.”

“A demon hunter dispatcher, huh?” John looked amused.

“Yes. They are hunting alpha for Crowley. Humans proved to be too unreliable.”

“Fine but I'm driving.”

“I can fly us there in a matter of minutes.”

“Exactly! It's unnatural.”

“Might I remind you that we are working on a tight schedule here?”

“Then stop arguing and let's go find me a car!”

“Don't be ridiculous.” Castiel stepped forward and grabbed John's shoulder. The sound of wings beating filled the empty place.

They reappeared in the woods surrounding the house where the human named Ellsworth used to live. Castiel knelt and pointed the van parking in the driveway. John knelt beside him and watched as two demons got out and half-dragged, half-carried a struggling female between them. Her head was covered with a black bag. A third demon got out from the driver seat and helped them carry the woman inside. The front door closed behind the trio. “I guess that answers the question whether or not they are still hunting alphas...” John whispered.

With precise movements, the hunter took a flask of holy water from the bag, grabbed his shotgun and checked if his knife was still in its sheath and tied properly in its usual place; the small of his back. He glanced at Castiel who also unsheathed his sword. The two of them quickly moved toward the house, keeping to the woods as much as possible. They started hearing the shouts when they arrived near the front door. “I told you to use iron shackles you idiots! Back her in a corner and don't let her touch you!” The door suddenly exploded when a flaming corpse flew through it. John and Castiel looked at each other before rushing inside.

Once inside, John quickly assessed the situation. On his left, the two demons had backed the woman in the corner of the room. One held a heavy chain while the other prodded her with an heavy pipe. When he noticed the two demons wore thick leather gloves, John guessed both the chain and the pipe were made of iron. The woman appeared to be in her mid-twenties. Her clothes were dirty and the knees of her jeans had been scrapped over. She could have easily passed as a human if it wasn't for the supernatural glow of her green eyes. She crouched low, keeping her eyes on the demons in front of her and her fingernails turned wicked claws as she took a defensive stand.

In the back of the double room, a single man shouted orders. John guessed it probably was Ellsworth. The man spotted them and his eyes flashed black when he saw Castiel at John's side. “You!” the demon shouted, backing away from the desk.

Castiel moved toward Ellsworth as John grabbed the arm of the nearest demon, spun him around and doused him with holy water. Screaming, his face melting, the demon managed to catch John and threw him across the room. John tried to grab his shotgun but the demon kicked it out of his grasp. “John Winchester. You won't be escaping Hell this time around!” He kicked John in the ribs as the hunter tried to get up.

Meanwhile, the girl jumped at the other demon, taking advantage of his inattention and punched him hard on the side of his head. The demon's attention snapped back on her and he lunged at her, raising the iron pipe high. She crouched low and kicked out, aiming at his knees. The demon blocked her move with his pipe and she cried out as the iron burned her skin.

John dodged another kick and rolled away. He got up, unsheathing his knife in one swift move. “Don't be so sure.” he said, facing the demon. The demon rushed, flinging the chain around like a heavy whip. John crouched as the chain swept above his head then lunged forward and drove his knife deep inside the demon's stomach. Light flashed inside the wound and the demon glanced at John, surprised, before the light spread inside his body, killing him. John turned toward the remaining demon in time to see black smoke escape through the ruined doorway. The body, cooked extra crispy, laid in front of the girl. She stared at John defiantly, flames swirling and dancing across her hands and arms. “A phoenix...” John whispered in wonder, understanding the type of monster she was.

Ellsworth tried to escape Castiel when he saw John and the phoenix killed two of his best men. Judging it would be easier to flee in his true form, Ellsworth arched his back and the black smoke poured out of his meat suit. The angel blocked it with one hand and pushed it back inside the body. Castiel then pressed his hand against Ellsworth's face and smote him. The body crumbled at his feet when he released it.

John retrieved his knife from the demon's belly and wiped it clean on the demon's shirt. Castiel walked around the desk and joined him in the center of the room. The phoenix watched the two of them wearily. “You're free to go.” Castiel told her. She stared at him for a moment and took a cautious step toward the door. When none moved against her, she ran and left. “Think she'll be alright?” John asked.

“If she keeps away from demons and hunters, yes she will.” Castiel walked back to Ellsworth's desk and combed through the papers that littered its surface.

“Ellsworth must be keeping a list of his demons.” Castiel explained as he carefully moved the bowls filled with blood away from the desk. “I know only of one knife like yours. It used to belong to a demon named Ruby. Sam has it now. Where did you get yours?” he asked suddenly.

“A voodoo priestess in New Orleans gave it to me as a thank you present.” John answered and continued to look through Ellsworth's notes. “She said it would be efficient against evil. I'm happy she wasn't lying.”

“I am happy too.” Castiel said. John glanced at him, surprised, and nodded half-smiling.

For a while, they worked in a comfortable silence. Castiel felt none of his brothers' energy nor Crowley's demons. The angel felt at peace for the first time in a long while. Beside him, John snatched up a hand written note. “What did you find?” the angel asked.

“Just a note referring to Lovecraft.”

“Who's Lovecraft?”

“He's a writer. Wrote horror stories about mysterious deaths and monsters.”

“Why would Ellsworth be interested in a writer?” Castiel wondered.

“No idea.” John frowned.

He never was into horror, preferring mystery novels once in a while. It was Mary's favorite thought. She used to laugh her head off reading Stephen King, Poe and Lovecraft, but she kept buying and reading them. It was only after his death, when he understood what Mary's murder had been about, John understood why she found those books hilarious. From a hunter's perspective, they actually were.

John blinked “That's it!”

“What is it?”

“Lovecraft was fascinated about opening doors to other dimensions. My wife told as much once when we were dating.”

“You believe it might have something to do with Purgatory?”

“It's worth a shot, isn't it? Why else Ellsworth had a note about it?”

“You may be right. Does the note mention anything else?”

“Just to check a journal that belonged to Moishe Campbell. Does the name ring a bell?”

“One of Samuel Campbell's relatives I presume.”

“Great. With Samuel dead, we have no chance of getting our hands on this journal.” John threw the note in disgust.

“There might be a way.” Castiel said. “Sam and Dean had found out the Campbell personal libraries. Maybe they have the journal. We need it to find the information required to prevent the opening of Purgatory.”

John stayed silent for a moment. Then he sighed. “Let me guess, they're at Bobby's, right?”
Castiel nodded. “And they've probably warded the whole place against you once they found out you were working with Crowley, right?” Another nod. “Awesome... just awesome. I hope you have a plan.”
“With your help, I can get inside and get that journal.”

***

John had been ordered to hide in Bobby's scrap yard while Castiel went inside the house to retrieve Moishe's journal. He rubbed his hands, trying to warm them. Castiel needed help to enter Singer's house. John had to simply wipe off some of the sigils so the angel could step inside. Castiel had promised to set wards up again before he left.

Still, John hated to be left behind, especially when his boys' safety was concerned so he decided the angel could put his order where the sun did not shine. He hovered near the back door, mindful of the various traps Singer had placed around his house. The old man had added some new ones since John's death. The hunter must admit he was quite impressed: Singer really had the knack for the 'hide in plain sight' thing.

He was about to barge in and consequences be damned when a flutter of wings signaled Castiel's return. John stepped out of his hiding place. He wanted to ask the angel if he had found the journal but something in the angel's attitude stopped him. “What happened?” he asked instead.

“I spoke to Dean. I tried to convince him to stop looking for Purgatory.”

“Did it work?”

“No.” The angel looked down, sad even.

“Can't say I'm surprised.” John said, shoving his hands in his jacket's pockets.

“You don't understand. Crowley will be looking for them. Raphael will be looking for them. They'll be in danger if they keep on like this.” Castiel said, his eyes glowing electric blue in the darkness.

“Did you tell Dean all this?” John asked.

“I tried. He kept telling me to let the matter go. He said we would all find a way to prevent Crowley from opening Purgatory.”

“Why didn't you agree?”

“Because this is the only way I can repent for my actions. I cannot involve Dean or Sam or even Bobby further.”

“Alright,” John said after a time, “then, we make sure nothing happen to them.” Hearing this, Castiel squared his shoulders nodded, understanding what the hunter meant. Action weights heavier than word. Such was the soldier's way. “Let's go and get some sleep.” John said. “It's been a long day.”

***

The next morning, John woke up to find Castiel still sitting at the table. John had found them a room in a motel, a few miles away from Bobby's. The angel started studying the journal but John had gone to bed too tired to keep his eyes open. It looked like the angel had not move at all during the night. “Did you get any sleep at all?” John asked, his voice still thick with sleep.

“My ways of resting are different from the humans'. I do not require sleep.”

“Of course... He doesn't need to sleep...” John grumbled. He sat down and rubbed his face, hoping to clear his mind. “Found anything?”

“Moishe Campbell met H.P. Lovecraft on March 10th, 1937. It doesn't say what their meeting was about.” Castiel said.

John considered their options. Lovecraft was the key, of that he was sure. Maybe he wrote about Purgatory. The only way to find out was to seek Lovecraft experts. The library was their next logical steps.

***

Sam glanced at Dean. His brother had been staring at the same page for the last 30 minutes. Sam woke up to find Dean sitting on Bobby's couch, a pile of Campbell's journals at his feet. His brother told Sam Castiel had paid him a visit the night before. The angel had tried to convince him to back away from Crowley while Dean urged him to stop looking for Purgatory. Dean argued they would find another way to help Castiel in his fight against Raphael. Castiel had fled and Dean blamed himself for not having been able to stop the angel.

Sam wondered why the angel took the time to stop to talk to Dean. It wasn't like Castiel could just waltz in; the whole house was angel-proofed and Bobby had set the usual traps around the place. Why then make his presence known to Dean? It wasn't making any sense. If Castiel was in with Crowley, and Sam had no doubt about it, shouldn't they be enemies?

“Well, you know what? At least, you tried.” Sam said, trying to break the tension that had been steadily building and distract his mind from understanding the puzzle that was Castiel.

“Yeah. A fat lot of good it did.” Dean answered. “Why did he even come, right?”

“Dean...”

Dean got up and threw the journal back on the pile on the desk behind which Sam was sitting. “Well, Samuel's journals are pointless. None of them can give us a clue on how to stop Crowley or Cas from opening Purgatory.”

“Well actually, it's not about the journals we have.” Bobby said, entering into the room from the second floor stairs. “It's about the one we don't.”

“Meaning what?” Sam asked.

“Meaning our old pal, Cas, didn't stop in last night just to mend fences.” Bobby said, eying Dean cautiously. “He also stole something; Moishe Campbell's journal.”

“Moishe?” Sam said, surprised.

“From the New York Campbell.” Bobby explained.

“Well, ah... We have to get it back, right?” Sam said, not wanting to dwell further on the side of the family they never knew.

“Or we can just read the copy I had already made.” Bobby said, producing a pile of paper from behind his back.

Sam and Dean just stared at him, dumbfounded. “Hi, glad to meet you. Bobby Singer, paranoid bastard.” Bobby said, grinning.

An hour later, they were still studying the journal's contents. They had spitted it in three but so far, nothing jumped out. Dean was about to call for a break, his head was killing him, when Bobby cried suddenly, “I think I found something.”

“Sam looked up from his copy. “What is it?”

Bobby handed Dean a sheet of paper, who read out loud, “Went to talk to Howard Phillips about the events of March 10th.”

“That's March 10th 1937.” Bobby said.

“All right, so who's this Phillips guy?” Dean asked, perching himself on the desk's corner.

“Well, Phillips wasn't his last name. It's Lovecraft.”

“What? H.P. Lovecraft?” Sam said, excited and grabbed the sheet from Dean's hands. Bobby nodded, his eyes bright.

“Am I supposed to know who that is?” Dean asked.

Bobby frowned. “Horror writer. 'At the mountains of Madness', 'The Call of Cthulhu.” At each title, Dean's frown deepened. He glanced at Sam, who looked back, before turning away. “Erm... Yeah, no. I-I was too busy having sex with women.” he said.

Bobby rolled his eyes. “Anyhow, there's one notion that comes up over and over again in his stories. Namely opening doors to other dimension and letting the scary crap through.”

“You don't say.” Dean said softly.

“So you're saying, you think Lovecraft would have known something about Purgatory?” Sam asked.

“All I know is Moishe paid him a visit. And that Castiel stole his journal. Maybe we should check it out.” Bobby said, shrugging.

“Alright, where do we start?” Dean asked.

***

“Right here.” John said, tapping the computer screen. The machines had evolved rapidly since his death and if it hadn't been for Ash's lessons up in Paradise, the hunter might have found it difficult to surf the internet for information.

Castiel leaned over his shoulder and read the sentence John had highlighted. “There is a man named Judah in Rhodes Island who claimed to own the biggest collection of H.P. Lovecraft personal letters.” He bent a little more to read the rest of the text and more into John's personal space. “Alright! Ever heard of personal space?” John blurted out. Castiel turned his head to look at him, his nose nearly touching John's. “Dean did mention it.”

“Maybe you should pay attention then.”

“Oh.” Castiel straightened and moved a step back from the computer and John. “Better?”

“Yes. Thanks.” John was able to breathe again.

“You're welcome.”

***

“Great. Let's hit the road and off the Rhodes Island then.” Dean said.

“We'll have to be careful. With Castiel working with Crowley, we're basically dealing with Superman who had gone dark side.” Bobby said. Dean looked away, the muscles of his jaw bulging slightly.

Sam looked at him, worried. His brother had never trusted many people. He always was careful to keep them away, claiming it was for their own good since the Winchester never stayed at the same place for long. Except for his brief taste of domestic life, Dean was and will always be a wanderer.

On the contrary, Sam easily made friends everywhere they went and could fit in any crowd. To Dean, Castiel joining forces with Crowley felt like treason. One of too many and Sam was worried it might be the one that broke his brother. “How about we stay here and look for a way to prevent Crowley or Castiel from cracking Purgatory?”

Dean stared at his brother in disbelief. “Sam...” he started.

“Look, hear me out okay? Castiel said the two of you shared a special bond, right? What if it allowed him to spy on us undetected?” Sam's eyes shifted from Dean to Bobby before settling back on Dean. Bobby's eyebrows rose, considering what Sam just said.

Sam relaxed a little while Dean tensed. “You're not considering this, are you?” he growled.

“He kinda has a point.” Bobby started.

“That's just bullshit!”

“Dean, how did Castiel got in last night? The house has been angel-proofed since before we faced Lucifer.” Sam asked.

“Well, they wore off!”

“I checked them this morning after you told me Castiel dropped by. They were still up.”

“Well then maybe Cas put them back up so we wouldn't notice his theft.”

“Dean...”

“No! I'm serious Sam. We are not sitting this one out and it's final!” The brothers stared at each other, furious. The tension crackled in the air surrounding them.

Sam sighed deeply. “Look, all I'm saying is, if Castiel can spy on us through your bond, are you sure it's a good idea if he found whatever Moishe was searching because of us?” Dean just stared, conflict written all over his face.

“I'll go and check this Judah guy.” Bobby said breaking the tension. “You two make sure Dean hasn't been tagged as angel target.”

“And how are we supposed to do that? It's not like we're rubbing elbows with the rest of the angel club.” Dean scoffed.

“We do know of one.” Sam said.

Dean thought it over for a minute. “Oh you gotta be joking!”

“You got to be joking!”

“See, that's exactly what I said.” Dean told his brother. The blond angel standing in front of them glared. “Seriously boys, do I look like your personal butler? No? Then stop calling me!” the angel said, annoyed.

“Balthazar, we just have one question and we're leaving you alone, I promise.” Sam said, hoping to placate the angel.

“And why would I answer?”

“Because it's important.” Dean cut in.

Balthazar turned toward him, his annoyance barely contained. “I was drinking a '75 Dom Perignon from a soprano's navel. That's important. Why don't you ask Castiel? He's the one having the hots for you, isn't he?”

Dean scoffed. “Yeah, that's why he settled in with Crowley. Took 50 000 souls from him.”

“He did what?!” Balthazar asked, his composure broken.

“You didn't know.” Sam said, shrewdly.

Balthazar gave him the look. “Don't be ridiculous Sam. Of course, I knew.”

“Yeah. We can see that.” Dean smirked.

“Look boys, as much as this amuses me, I really have to fly.” Balthazar said, sarcastic once more.

“Hey! W-Wait! SonavaBITCH!” Dean shouted in the empty space in front of him.

***

“You sure this was necessary?” John asked. He and Castiel had just walked out from Judah parents' house when the angel showed him the Lovecraft's letters. “We must make sure Crowley can't follow us.” the angel said, hiding the letters back inside his trench-coat’s pocket. “And if I must steal to do so, I will.”

John decided to let the matter drop. “Alright. According to these letters, Lovecraft and his friends died open a portal on the night of March 10th. Each died gruesomely a year later. No survivor, no witness. It's not going to be easy.”

“You are wrong. There is one who survived and who was there on the fated night.” Castiel said, taking a letter from his pocket and handed it to John.

The hunter took it and quickly scanned it. “The housekeeper's son?” Castiel nodded. “And you know where to find him.” It wasn't a question.

“Yes. He told the police what happened after Howard Phillips Lovecraft died. Of course, they have locked him here.”

John stopped and looked at the building in front of them. A mental institute. “Figures.” he said and followed Castiel inside.

***

The little boy had become an old man. He watched John and Castiel intensely as they sat on the couch beside his chair. “Tell me sir, do you believe in monsters?” he asked John. The hunter jumped a little, surprised by the bluntness of the question and glanced involuntarily at Castiel before he answered. “Yes. I do.” The old man looked at Castiel, who stared back. “You are not human, are you?”

Castiel shook his head. “No. I am an angel of the Lord.” The man chuckled. “Don't tell them or they'll lock you up too.” He laughed for some time. “You came to ask me what happened on that night, aren't you?” he asked.

“If you don't mind.” John said, quietly.

The man smiled softly. “People asked me a lot of questions back then. They didn't believe me. Now, there are still some who want to know. They don't believe me either.” He looked at John and Castiel, as if judging if they would believe him. “Something came through.” he whispered.

“What?” John asked, leaning forward.

“The séance... It worked. Something came through. It-It took my mother...” the man's voice broke a little.

Castiel waited for a moment but the man was lost in his memories. The angel suddenly laid his hand on the side of the man's face. The man gasped in surprise. Castiel got up. “Thank you for your time.” he said to the bewildered man and left. John watched the angel's retreating back before getting up as well. “I'm sorry about your mother.” he said gently before following Castiel outside. The old man watched them leave, unable to speak.

“What did you do?” John asked the angel once they were outside.

“I scanned his memories. Remembering that night and his mother brought forth her image in the front of his mind.” Castiel said, still walking. John stopped and grabbed the trench coat's sleeve to whirl Castiel around. Sensing his intent, Castiel obliged him. Not that John noticed. Instead, the hunter stood very close to the angel, his face like a thunderstorm. “Are you telling me you just... mind-screw that poor man?”

The angel frowned and cocked his head. “I wasn't aware my method might be seen as sexual foreplay. If it was, it never was my intent.” John just made a disgusted sound and moved away.

Castiel stood there and watched him. John breathed deeply a couple of time before he could trust himself. “Okay... You cannot go around and do that. People's memories are not to be toyed with.”

“But I did not “toy” with this man's memories. I merely looked.” Castiel tried to explain.

“You know exactly what I mean, Castiel. Don't play dumb. It might work with Dean but not on me.”

“John, I told you once: time is the essence here.” the angel said, back in soldier-mode. “I'm sorry I hurt this man's feelings or yours but we must prevent Crowley from opening Purgatory.”

John simply stood there, his face carefully devoid of emotions. “If it's any consolation to you,” the angel continued, “I only did it because I had no other choice.”

“Castiel, don't...” John sighed. “Just tell me, did you find anything?”

“Yes. I know the face of the man's mother. If the being from Purgatory took her shape, she must still be alive. Dean had met her before. I suggest we pay her a visit and protect her if needed.”

“Can you find her?”

“Definitely.” And with that, Castiel flied the two of them away.

They reappeared in the woods. Again. Judging from the vegetation surrounding them, John guessed they were still in New England. He wondered for a moment if his companion preferred the nature to the company of humans.

“Sometimes.” Castiel said softly. “Your kind can be tiresome. And noisy.”

John blinked. “Were you reading my mind?” Castiel said nothing but his small smile spoke volume.

John grumbled but otherwise, remained silent. He walked to the edge of the tree line, hoping to gather some Intel about where they were. From his hiding place, he could see a house, its walls, door and windows were covered with various symbols. A silver car parked in the driveway. A blond woman came out and entered the house. John frowned. The woman looked familiar but he was too far to make out the details of her face. He was about to step out from the woods when Castiel single command. “Wait.” stopped him.

He turned around and found himself staring at Castiel's back. In front of the angel, a blond-haired man, in his mid-forties, stood. “Hello Castiel.” the man said.

“Balthazar.” Castiel said, not moving.

“Friend of yours?” John asked.

“Yes. A very old friend.”

Balthazar peered curiously at the human. One of eyebrow rose lazily and he turned his attention back on Castiel. “Another one? Truly, we must bring you to a pet shop or the zoo if you keep on like this.”

John scowled but Castiel asked, undaunted. “What brings you here, Balthazar?”

“Castiel... Can I ask you a direct question?”

“Of course.” Castiel said, standing a little straighter.

Balthazar cocked his head slightly. “Are you in flagrante with the King of Hades?”

Castiel paused a second before answering. “Of course not.”

Balthazar laughed and crossed his arms over his chest. “You were always such a terrible liar, my friend.”

“Alright. I am not anymore.” Castiel said, frowning.

Balthazar glanced at John, who watched the whole exchange with attention. “And you thought bringing your lover's father back to life would help you?” Balthazar asked.

“I made a mistake and I intent to correct it.” Castiel took a step nearer of his friend. “Now, I need to know. Are you with me or not?”

Balthazar scoffed and watched his oldest friend in the universe. “You know, you may be certifiable but, fine.” the blond-haired angel sighed. “In for a penny, in for a pound.”

Castiel nodded, satisfied. “Let’s go then. We have found the being who had escaped Purgatory. That being had took the shape of a human woman. We must protect her from Crowley.”

Balthazar rolled his eyes to the sky. “Tell me Castiel, does your life ever get dull?” John chuckled.

The three men neared the house with caution. They did not know what this monster, for the lack of a better term, could do. Also, something kept nagging John's memory. He had only been able to have a quick glance at the woman when she exited her car and he hadn't yet been able to shake off the feeling he knew her somehow. He admitted to not been a saint and after Mary's death, he had known a few women, some in the Biblical sense. Was she one of those? That would be rich! He, John Winchester, renowned hunter, doing the horizontal tango with a monster from another dimension.

John climbed the steps to the front door while the angels got around the back. They all agreed that storming inside would be suicidal. So they devised a plan of action where John would take the blunt of the attack, if the monster attacked. As Balthazar point out “It will be easier to heal or revive you than if it's me or Cas who is hurt.” John had thrown him a dirty look but Castiel had said, half-apologetic, “We will have your back, John. Don't worry.” John knew it would be useless to say anything and had clapped Castiel on the shoulder before heading down toward the house.

The front door opened suddenly and the hunter found himself staring at the end of a Winchester rifle. Looking up, his eyes widened in shock when he finally recognized Bobby Singer's old girlfriend, Eleanor Vizyak. She looked as surprised as he was and the grip on the riffle trembled slightly. “You!” she gasped. “How? It's impossible!”

***

“That's exactly what I said but it fits.” Bobby told Sam over the phone. “If Lovecraft and his friends managed to bring a monster from Purgatory and it took that man's mother, I've got to check it out.”

“We can go with you, Bobby. You don't know, this monster might think it would be a good idea to wear your insides as a garter belt.”

“It won't. Trust me when I say this; I'm the one that must check it out.”

“Bobby...”

“Have you gotten a hold of Balthazar yet?” Bobby asked instead.

“Yeah, but he left quite suddenly after we told him Castiel might be in with Crowley.”

“Hn. Figures.”

“Look Bobby, tell us where you are and we'll come and meet you. We better stay together in case of a demonic or angelic attack.”

Bobby sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He knew Sam had a point but he just couldn't wrap his head around the idea Eleanor might be the monster they were looking for. He made his decision and brought the phone to his ear. “Alright...” he said. “Sam? You still there?”

The voice that answered him wasn't Sam's and it sent a very big chill down his spine. “Hello Robert. Long time no chat, won't you say?”

“Crowley.”

“The one and only. How long as it been Bobby? Since my so-called demise, I'd say. Wouldn't you agree?”

“What have you done with the boys?”

“Oh, don't you worry. They are perfectly fine. For now.”

“What do you mean?”

“I'm proposing an exchange, old friend. Your boys for your old girlfriend.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“And what your angel pal think of this?”

“If you mean Castiel, I'm afraid he's no longer a friend of mine. Sad truly.”

“Shame.”

“Glad you agree. It's so difficult to form steadfast and trust-worthy relationships nowadays.”

“What did you do with him?”

“I took care of it. Don't you worry about me.”

“I wasn't.”

“Great. Then might I suggest you go and get your girlfriend before something very bad happen to those boys? You have until the end of the day.” Crowley ended the call.

Bobby stared at the cell phone in disbelief. The demon might have been lying about Castiel what choice did he have when the boys' lives might be in danger, again. The angel was the only one he had left. He took his phone and dialed the number he hadn't dialed in more than a year. He hoped the angel still had the cell phone Dean gave him and that he had forgotten about resigning his registration.

The men sat in the living room, all eying Eleanor. “You?” John asked again.

“Yes, John. Me.” Ellie answered one more time.

“So what's your game then?” he asked.

“Game?”

“Yeah, why are you here?”

“Would you believe me if I told you I like it here?”

“You're from Purgatory!”

“I am what I am, John. Look!” she said, getting up from her seat and poured herself a drink, “I didn't ask for these idiots to crack the door open, I just happen to be the thing that got through. And let me tell you, you’re lucky it was me!”

“You've killed Lovecraft.”

“Oh please. The guy couldn't even write 'Hello'.” Ellie crossed her arms over her chest, tired of feeling responsible for everything that happened since the King of Hell had the luminous idea of conquering Purgatory.

“Well, she is right, you know.” Balthazar said, after a time. “Lovecraft didn't have much talent. She actually did him a favor.”

“Balthazar, this is beside the point.” Castiel said.

He too stood up and moved closer to Ellie. “You are in danger.” he said “The King of Hell is after you. He wants to open Purgatory to capture the souls trapped inside.” The woman's face blanched. She obviously didn't think the demons might be able to find her and the King of Hell wasn't a mere minion she could simply wave off. At all.

“Eleanor, this place isn't safe. Let us bring you somewhere else, for your protection.” John also said.

“Oh John, no. Thanks thought.” Ellie said. “It's very sweet of you but you're just a man. I'm better off protecting myself.”

“And what are we supposed to be, honey? Flying monkeys?” Balthazar asked, piqued.

“No offense, 'blondie', but I trust angels even less than demons.” Eleanor said.

“Ow! That hurts.” Balthazar frowned but the woman only chuckled and poured herself another drink.

The intro to 'Stairway to Heaven' suddenly rang in the room. All stared as Castiel took a cell phone from his coat's pocket and looked at it for a minute before flipping it open. “... Hello?”

“Thank God, it's still working!”

“Bobby?”

“Yeah. Look, Crowley got the boys.”

“What?”

“Said you weren't his friend anymore. Castiel, he wants Ellie.”

“I am with her at the moment. She is fine. Where are you?”

“Crowley had just texted me the coordinates where the exchange is supposed to take place. Castiel you have to promise me not to bring Ellie!”

“I wasn't planning to Bobby but we must save Dean and Sam.”

“... Are you really on our side, Castiel?”

“Yes Bobby, I am.”

“... I'll send you the coordinates and I'll meet you there.” Bobby hung up and Castiel faced a very worried John.

***

“There, that wasn't so bad now, wasn't it?” a voice said behind him. Bobby whirled around to find Crowley standing there. The demon smiled and casually walked toward the man, who tensed up and grabbed his gun from behind his back. “Careful now, old friend. You wouldn't Dean and Sam to die just now, would you?” Crowley said, stopping a few feet away from Bobby.

“What have you done with them?”

“Oh? I thought I told you already. I kidnapped them.”

“I know, in exchange for Ellie.”

“Ah, but it's not really Ellie anymore, you know. She's probably much older than she looks.”

“That's not the point.”

“Of course, I was merely pointing out the obvious.” Crowley stuffed his hands in his pockets and cocked his head. “You've told the angel, haven't you?”

Bobby narrowed his eyes “Why do you want to know?”

Crowley smiled and suddenly, the hunter crumbled down, screaming as pain exploded in his left knee. “I was hoping you say that.” the demon said, visibly pleased. “Now... the angel will definitely go and try to save your boys. It will take some time, thrust me. Then, he'll come back and try to heal you. Don't worry; it won't be as easy as it looks.”

Bobby could say nothing except curl into a ball as fire erupted in his belly. His head throbbed as if a swarm of bees was trapped inside it. The demon crouched beside him. “You see, by the time Castiel figures it out and finishes extinguish all the little fires I've started, it will be too late: the door to Purgatory will be open and all the souls will be mine.” The demon smiled and vanished.

Bobby tried uncurled himself but the pain wouldn’t let go. “Sir? Sir! Are you alright?” a voice asked from above him. Bobby tried to answer but the pain gripped him tight and the only sound his throat was able to produce was weak and whistle-like. “Annie! Call 911! Quick!” It was the only thing Bobby heard before losing consciousness.

***

“What happened?” John asked.

“Crowley. He kidnapped Dean and Sam and wants Eleanor in exchange for their safety.”

“You're not thinking about it, are you?” Ellie asked, “Otherwise, I must warn you you'll lose more than just your feathers!”

“Oh... Feisty, isn't she?” Balthazar commented, smirking.

“We go and get them.” John's voice booked no argument.

“Yes.” Castiel turned to Balthazar. “Can you stay and protect her?”

“Well, of course.”

“I can protect myself, you know!” Eleanor protested.

“I am sorry, but you're too important to us to take any chances. We cannot give Crowley a chance of finding you.” Castiel said, sternly.

Eleanor glared at him for a moment before sighing. “Fine.” She sat down.

“Thank you.” Castiel said, before flying off with John.

“Have you any more of that drink?” Balthazar asked.

The angel reappeared in front of an old building along with John. The hunter guessed they were in a city by the water because the air smelled faintly like the ocean. “We have a problem.” Castiel said suddenly. “Crowley had locked the place with powerful Enochian sigils. I cannot enter.”

“So, it'll be me against who knows how many demons?”

“I'm afraid so.” Castiel said, a bit dejectedly. John watched the building in front of him.

It was a one-story building used for storing goods. Most windows were covered with boards, graffiti scrawled on them. John guessed there was probably an additional door at the back. In a few minutes, a plan shaped in his mind. “Can you have a quick access to salt?” he asked the angel.

“I think so. Why?”

“We'll need it to cover all the exits and windows. Think you can get close enough?”

“Trust me.” And Castiel vanished.

***

John hid inside the main office and found the intercom system. He prayed it was still operational despite the neglected aspect of the place. He took the intercom's microphone in his hand just as a demon burst in. “What do you think you're doing?” she growled before launching herself at John. The hunter quickly backed a step and threw some holy water at her. She dodged it by twisting her body and punched him. John tried to avoid it by rolling forward but the punch caught him on the side of his head. He stood and unsheathed his knife in one movement. “Oh... You gonna try and stab me, big boy? Think you still got the touch?” she asked, cocky.

“Why don't you come and see, sweetie?”

She lunged forward, aiming a high kick to his head. John easily caught the raised leg but the girl pivoted on her other one and elbowed him sharply. On pure instinct, John let go of the leg and, grabbing her by the back on her head, threw her against the wall. He kept her pinned there. Since his hand was still on her head, he bashed it couple of time on the wall. The demon cried and snarled but John was a heavy man and no one could easily escape his clutch. Except his opponent was not human.

Using her supernatural strength, she braced herself and pushed him back. The hunter staggered a few steps and lost his balance. Screeching, blood running down her face, the demon launched herself at him, eager to finish him off. She never got close. Castiel grabbed her by the throat and smote her on the spot. Black smoke flew out from her mouth and her body slid slowly on the floor when the angel released her. “Neat.” John commented from his spot on the floor.

“Thank you for leaving me a way in. The salt is in place and I've added wards against demons on the boards covering the windows. They won't be able to escape.”

“Great, let's hope this work.”

John grabbed the microphone and started reciting the Roman Exorcism Ritual. Castiel added a little bit of his grace to John's voice, giving it more power. The voice, combined with angelic grace rang through the warehouse. Soon, the air smelled heavily of sulfur. Castiel cast his mind around before saying, in wonder, “It worked.”

“Good. Now, let's check on my boys.”

They found Dean first. He had been thrown into an empty room. He was unconscious and blood dripped from his forehead. Kneeling down, Castiel pressed his fingers against the young man's face and healed him with a thought. Dean's eyelids fluttered as he slowly regained consciousness. “I'll check on Sam.” the angel said and he flew away.

“... Dad?” Dean choked and stared at John.

“Hi son...” John said gently, squatting down.

Dean would not, could NOT, believe it. It couldn't be. He back-pedaled away, shaking his head, his eyes wide. “Not you.” he kept saying. “Not you too.” John did not move, very much aware of the distress his eldest was in. It was one of the reasons why he'd refused to show himself in the first place. You don't go and throw resurrected people at seasoned hunters and expect them to react peacefully. Especially the ones who had been brought back too many times. It was unnatural. “Dean.” John said softly, trying to sooth his son. “It's me. I'm back and I am no demon's little bitch.”

Dean swallowed a couple of time before he could trust his voice enough to ask. “Who did it then?”

“I did.” Castiel answered, standing in the doorway. Sam was standing behind the angel and stared at his father still squatting on the floor. Even thought Castiel had told him about this, his mind couldn't register the fact his father was actually back from the dead. Dean's attention shifted to Castiel, his expression dark. “How could you?”

“Dean...” Castiel said, stepping inside. Sam also moved in to help Dean up since John didn't dare come any closer.

“I forced him to.” John said, standing.

“You what?” Sam asked. John half-shrugged and smile a little.

“Why?” Dean asked.

“I have made a mistake. John offered his help to fix it and I accepted.” Castiel explained.

“And you didn't think of telling me this when you came at Bobby's last night?”

“I tried, Dean. You did not let me.”

Dean chewed over the angel's words while the others gave him time to process the whole thing. Castiel had the foresight to warn Sam about John's resurrection when he freed him. Even if the young hunter hadn't believed him, he had been unconsciously expecting the unexpected while Dean was fully receiving the brute force of the situation. Then, Sam moved toward his father and shyly touched his sleeve. “Dad?” he asked, still shocked.

Castiel's cell phone rang, interrupting the reunion between the Winchester. The angel frowned, took his phone out and checked the phone number on its cover. It was Bobby's. “Yes?” he answered.

“Oh good, you're there!”

“Bobby?”

“Yeah. Listen, it's a trap! Crowley already knew you had Eleanor. He just wanted you away so he could grab her.”

“Where are you?”

“It's not important. Listen, you gotta make sure Ellie is fine. I think the ritual must take place tonight because the demon looked kinda rushed.”

Castiel frowned, hearing the pain and suffering in the old man's voice. “Crowley hurt you, didn't he?”

“I'm fine. You go and protect Ellie. You make sure that son of a bitch doesn't get his hands on her!”

“I can help you, Bobby. Just tell me where you are.”

“No! Don't you see, you idjit! It's all part of his plan. By the time you come and help me, it'll be too late! Now, do your job and make sure Purgatory stays close!” Bobby hanged up and Castiel stared at the cell phone. He turned toward the Winchester who all looked at him.

“We should head back. Crowley is probably planning a surprise attack.” Castiel said and he flew them all back to Eleanor's house. They found it nearly destroyed. “Balthazar!” Castiel shouted and rushed inside, closely followed by the hunters. The living room was a complete mess. The furniture lay broken and scattered everywhere. The walls bore traces of fire. Balthazar was lying in one of the corners. “Hey Cas... I gave them hell but it wasn't enough...” he said, coughing some blood.

“Don't talk.” Castiel knelt beside his friend. He peeled the front of the vest to reveal a nasty wound on the other angel's chest. Worried, Castiel looked up at Balthazar. “Your true form was touched.”

“I guessed as much.” Balthazar made a face. He grabbed Castiel's wrist, all cockiness gone. “It was Ariel, Cas. It was Raphael's second in command.”

spn_reversebang 2012, character: john winchester, challenge: 2012, fanfiction, character: castiel, genre: spn

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