fic: Across This New Divide chp.5
Chapter 5: In Every cry of Every man
Sam’s mouth dropped open, and Chuck’s face grew noticeably paler. Dean, however, looked quite expressionless.
“This is absolutely not good,” Chuck muttered.
“Lucifer is attacking Heaven again?” Sam asked, incredulous. “But… you guys defeated him last time. So, can’t you do it again?” Castiel furrowed his brow.
“Last time, the number of angels that had Fallen paled in comparison to those who were still loyal to God, and thus, were cast down to Hell.” He paused. “But this time, the number of angels Lucifer has at his command, in addition to his demons, is unknown. I can only guess that we are the ones who are outnumbered.”
“And?” Sam prompted, noticing that the angel looked as if he wanted to say something else. Castiel shifted his gaze towards Dean.
“I have spoken to some of my brothers and sisters, and we are in agreement that you are still the one who will defeat Lucifer,” he said. The older Winchester heard a quiet gasp and glanced over at Sam. His younger brother’s eyes were wide with shock, and Dean resisted the urge to turn around and punch the angel in the jaw, remembering how well that worked last time.
“Dean…?” Sam asked, his brow furrowing in confusion. “You never said-”
“Yeah, I know, Sam,” Dean interrupted. “I was going to tell you, but with everything goin’ on, I just never got around to it.” Thanks Cas… He thought to himself. Sam frowned, his expression sliding into one that Dean quickly recognized as his patented ‘pissed’ face.
“I thought your job was to stop the Apocalypse,” he said in a carefully controlled voice. “Not Lucifer.” The older Winchester shrugged.
“Yeah, well, it was up ‘till his-” Dean jerked his head in Castiel’s direction “-boss popped in and told me otherwise.” Sam’s eyes narrowed. “Look, what’s the difference?” Dean asked. “Just a little bit ago, you agreed to stop Lucifer from finding his vessel-”
“Exactly,” Sam interrupted. “Stop him from finding his vessel, not stop him like ‘kill’ him!”
“How do you even kill the Devil?” Chuck asked, earning himself a frosty glare from Sam. “Good to know we’re all getting along,” the prophet muttered. Everyone ignored him.
“Sam,” Castiel interjected, “it’s Dean’s destiny to stop Lucifer. That is the reason why my superiors ordered us to raise him from Hell.” Dean snorted.
“Yeah, and not because you guys actually wanted to, or anything.” The angel glanced at him, his expression faintly frustrated. Sam stepped closer to Castiel, who watched him with an even stare.
“I don’t give a crap about Dean’s ‘destiny,’” Sam said angrily. “What you’re asking him to do isn’t possible, never mind the fact that you won’t even tell him how to stop the Devil.” Despite his annoyance towards his younger brother, Dean had to admit that Sam made a good point. How was he - an average hunter - supposed to off the Big Guy Downstairs?
“You guys keep skirtin’ the question about how to stop him,” Dean said, his green eyes locking with the angel’s sapphire blue ones. “How ‘bout you be straight with me for once in your existence: you said you’d ask around, so what did you find out?” Castiel paused, his gaze flicking towards the ground.
“It is written-” The angel began, before Dean interrupted.
“Look, I’ve had enough of this ‘it is written blah, blah, blah’ crap, okay? Just tell me what the Hell I’m s’posed to do!”
“You will defeat Lucifer,” Castiel answered, his voice carefully neutral. The older Winchester’s eyes narrowed and he felt a spark of anger ignite within him.
“How?” Dean growled. “You angels are all gung-ho about me stoppin’ the guy, but I haven’t heard a single damn word about how to do it.”
“That’s because we don’t know,” Castiel replied angrily, his patience finally snapping. “It is written that you will stop him, but not how you are to do it.” Dean was about to reply when something strange happened. The telephone poles began to hum loudly, and suddenly, white electricity lanced down the length of the wires. The streetlights popped and shattered one by one, causing the surrounding area to grow dark. There was a burst of light, bright enough to cause the Winchesters and Chuck to throw their arms over their eyes. A cold gust of wind blew past them, and the sound of powerful wing beats were heard. The light died down and Dean glanced up. In the center of the road stood a man: he wore an immaculate dark grey suit with a black tie. His hair, similar in style to Sam’s, was the color of spun flax, and his skin was lightly tanned. And then Dean saw his eyes. They were like liquid gold - pupiless eyes that gleamed with an unparalleled fierceness. He heard a sharp intake of breath, and was surprised to see that it came from Castiel. If the angel had been obedient before when he was with Zachariah, it was nothing compared to what he was like now. His head was bowed, eyes lowered, hands clasped behind his back, and his shoulders were stiff. Sam glanced at Castiel, then at the angel standing in the middle of the road. As if he sensed his gaze, the angel turned his head until his eyes were locked with Sam’s. The younger Winchester felt a shiver run down his spine, and suddenly, he knew. Knew why Castiel was acting submissive - knew who this new angel was. Knew that they were so totally screwed.
“Michael,” Sam breathed, automatically taking a step back. Then he glanced at Dean, who was staring at the archangel with an expression Sam recognized all too well. He was about to whisper to his older brother, elbow him, before he said something stupid, like -
“Who the Hell are you?” Dean asked angrily.
Like that.
Michael’s golden gaze flicked in the older Winchester’s direction, and he began to walk slowly to where they were standing. Sam and Castiel exchanged alarmed glances, and Sam’s heart skipped a beat when Chuck’s front door slammed shut. Sam turned around and spotted the prophet peeking at them through his curtains. The younger Winchester grimaced, and shifted his attention back towards Michael, who had come to a stop in front of Dean. The archangel cocked his head slightly, his eyes narrowing to mere slits.
“I am Michael,” he answered, his voice rough, as if he wasn’t used to speaking through a vessel. Which, Sam thought to himself, made a lot of sense, considering that the last time Michael popped down on Earth had been, oh, never. He was glad to see that his brother had clamped his mouth shut upon hearing the archangel’s name. Even Dean knew who Michael was. “Castiel,” Michael said, his voice radiating with power, “your presence is not required here, nor is it desired. Leave.” Dean glanced at the smaller angel. His shoulders were hunched, and he kept his gaze glued to the ground as he answered.
“With all due respect, Michael,” he said quietly, “I would prefer to remain here.” Both Winchester’s eyes widened in surprise, and they watched as Michael turned to face Castiel.
“You have caused more than enough trouble,” the archangel answered after a moment. “It would not benefit you to disobey me now.” Castiel flinched, but otherwise remained silent.
“Look, pal,” Dean started, causing Sam resist the urge to close his eyes. Nothing good ever followed when his older brother started a sentence with ‘look, pal…’ “I know you’re a badass archangel and all,” Dean continued, “but since I’m assuming you came to talk to me, whatever you’ve got to say, you’ll say it in front of all three of us, or not at all.” Michael stared at the older Winchester, his expression unreadable. Finally, he said,
“You are needed on the battlefield. Both of you. You’ll be debriefed when we arrive.” Dean’s brow furrowed, and he frowned.
“Arrive?” He asked. “Arrive where?” But Michael didn’t answer, instead turning to face Castiel.
“Follow us.” Was all he said. Then he stepped towards Dean and Sam and gripped them both by the shoulder. A split second later, the world was a rush of flying colors and sounds, before everything faded to black.