Chapter 6
The Angel in the myths is unlike the species of angel we have encountered in the past century. The Angel of legend bares resemblance to the angels of Judeo-Christian mythology found in the works of fiction the Bible and the Torah, whereas our modern-day angels remain as sponge-like colonies, communicating telepathically with humans. Any relation the Angel has to these xenophorms would lend weight to the idea that angels can possess or inhabit a willing human body, a fact that they strongly deny.
-The Angel and the Righteous Man, Origins and History of a Legend
By Carver Edlund
They’re a few days out from Charlie when Dean plucks up the courage to talk to Benny. For an AI Dean designed and programmed himself, a bored ten-year-old with too much time alone, Benny takes none of his bullshit and is overwhelmingly protective of him. Growing up, he was glad the worst the AI could do was play with the water temperature of the shower, so that his dad would be drenched with cold water in retaliation for hurting Dean.
He boots up the computer, allowing Benny access to the display. Cas had been pre-warned that he’s most probably going to be subject to a grilling.
“Hey, brother,” Benny’s smiling image hits the display, “It’s been a while, cher.”
“Hey, Benny.” Dean attempts his usual smile, but knows it doesn't reach his eyes when Benny’s happiness turns to concern.
“What’s happened? I thought you had Sam all good and sorted? Is it linked to that weird old brain scan of yours?” the questions come, rapid fire.
“I…” Dean searches for the words. He’s had enough time now to sort things through so that his thoughts are coherent enough for him to start talking about them. “Alastair turned out to be a bust. He lied about what he wanted. It was,” he pauses, breathing through the nausea and flashes of torment that flicker behind his closed eyes. “It was hell Benny. I thought. I thought that I could handle anything after… You know my childhood. This was so much worse.”
“That’s why you've got all those new scars. Dean, I’m sorry this happened. It’s not your fault,” Benny says. “I know your mind, Dean, you’ll be working everything out to put you in the wrong so you don’t have to deal with the fact that you’re a victim. Again.”
He and I are on the same page about that.
That snaps Dean back into the reality of the situation.
“There’s more, though. The brain scan. That’s a little hitch-hiker I picked up as I was playing pin-cushion for Alastair. His name’s Castiel.” Dean likes to think he kept his voice even through his explanation, but he knows his voice is starting to shake with the realization of everything he went through.
Benny’s face goes tight with a series of emotions Dean can’t quite follow before he speaks again. “And this Castiel is listening to all of this?”
“Uh. Yes?” Dean answers, confused.
“In which case, hello, Castiel. My name is Benny, and if you hurt a hair on this young man’s pretty head, emotionally, physically, whatever, I will find you. And I will make you wish you never laid eyes on him.” Benny’s tone drops into outright threatening and, not for the first time, Dean is glad that only he can access the AI. He shudders to think what Benny might have said to his dad, or even Sam, on occasion.
I question how he will be able to achieve this feat when he has no physical presence.
Dean’s eyes widen marginally. It’s the harshest he’s ever heard from Cas, apart from when he threatened to take control of Dean’s body without permission. He doesn't tell Cas of his plans to build a hominoid robot for Benny to use, eventually, when the laws on AIs are relaxed.
“He hears you, Benny,” he tries, attempting diplomacy.
“Good,” Benny growls out. “Now tell my why you’re racing off to Charlie instead of your brother.”
That’s. That’s not good. The memory of him pinning Sam to the wall, exacting physical violence on a human being who didn't do anything, aches. It’s like there’s a hole in his chest, knowing his brother wants nothing to do with him.
“I did see him,” he attempts, evading lightly.
“I see, cher. And why isn't he with you?” Benny asks carefully.
Dean knows that if he stops, stalls once more, Benny won’t push. But it’s Benny, and the guy has been his one source of support for so long that it’s easier to tell him than not.
“I pushed him into a wall. Nearly broke his arm. Didn't think he’d want me around after that,” he begins.
Of course. Breaking into his home only to hear how he wishes you gone from his life before being thrown into a PTSD flashback in which you lashed out in panic had absolutely nothing to do with it.
“Shut up, Cas,” he snaps, momentarily forgetting he’s not alone.
Benny raises an eyebrow. “He bothering you Dean?”
“No. Cas is just trying to tell me that hurting Sam wasn't my fault. Which it was,” Dean snaps before Cas can interrupt him.
“And why exactly does Castiel think that, Dean?” Benny asks.
Dean knows he’s caught. Anything less than the truth is going to leave him with two grumpy, protective assholes.
“I may have overheard him talking about me. It wasn't particularly nice. You know the sort of things the home-worlds say about no-brain colonizers. So I was just going to leave, didn't want to screw up his life and he kinda grabbed me, and I thought he was Alastair. But I still hurt him!” His words trip over themselves as he tries to explain to Benny the depth of his transgressions.
“So basically, you hear him talkin’ down about you. Again. You try and leave, he tries to stop you, and you relive one of your more traumatic experiences, ending in Sam getting a bruise. At worst. Is that what you’re tellin’ me, cher?” Benny summarizes.
Put like that it seems a lot less terrible. The UAP don’t even charge people who commit an act of violence as a result of untreated mental health problems. They’d rather help them.
“Oh,” he says, voice small.
“I’d say. So you know the drill now. When you need to talk, you talk. It doesn't have to be me. You talk at your own pace to someone you trust. Then we go back to working on your little issue of you putting your own needs so far behind everyone else’s that you forget you have them. Okay?”
“Okay.”
It’s all he can agree to for now. Benny isn't going to pressure him into talking, neither will Cas. He’s emotionally drained enough just from the mention of Alastair and the clusterfuck that was him going to Sam.
Benny seems to sense that and with a quick goodbye, as well as a promise to keep him updated, vanishes from the display.
“So?” he says, a little defensively, to Castiel.
I am not sure that we will ever be friends, but he is there for you as I am, and was long before I was even in the picture. He’s someone you trust, so I suppose I can accept it.
Cas is almost petulant. Dean laughs a little. They’re like children battling over who gets to be his best friend. It’s been a while since he was valued by enough people for that to happen.
The thought is sobering enough. He frowns and pulls up the schematics for some of the equipment he’s designing for enhancing the basic water systems of colonizer planets.
I've been thinking a little on the subject of enhancing our bond. I believe I have a solution, if you can develop the appropriate technological device.
“Well color me impressed, Cas! What've you got for me?” he asks, pleased.
Is there any way you can amplify brain signals? There would still be a limit on the distance we could be apart, but it would allow some degree of physical separation.
Dean thinks for a moment, and then winces.
What is it? Is my idea unfeasible?
“Nah, Cas, that’s not the problem. We have the technology, it’s just highly illegal. The problem would be concealing the brain-implant from scans and such. And we’d both need one,” he explains.
He fights the sensation of something crawling under his skin. It’s too close to how he got involved with Alastair in the first place. Sam, desperate for college funds was willing to sign up to clinical trials with Azazel. To have a chip, rather like the one Dean’s planning, installed in his head. Instead of merely amplifying brainwaves, Azazel wanted to improve on the human condition. Recipients would be faster, stronger, and more intelligent than they were.
Dean was lucky to get Sam out before the trial went ahead. Many of the participants went mad, killed themselves or each other. It’s part of the reason any technology to manipulate brainwaves is banned now. Azazel was discredited, but must have found employment with Alastair, as Dean knew only too well.
I see. Do you know how to make one of these implants? And how to insert it?
“Make? Yeah. It’s not complicated. Charlie has some micro-circuitry synthesizers in the lab. As for putting them in, we can read up on it,” he sounds a lot more confident than he feels. Hopefully Cas won’t pick up on that. He’s already planned the implant in his head.
Then I see no reason to hold back. I am amenable to this plan.
Dean fights a grin as Cas finally gives his consent. They’re actively doing something. They’re going to fight. If the thought of maybe having to see Alastair again wasn't so distressing, Dean would almost say he’s happy.
***
The planet Charlie has her lab on, which they've called the Batcave for an age, (something to do with orphans and a vigilante from 20th Century literature, Dean doesn't ask) is an unnamed, uncharted planet. The UAP decided that it was essentially worthless. It has no strategic value, poor soil quality, worse air quality and a lack of mineral resources, which all added up to a big fat zero in the eyes of the UAP. In the end, the planet was mostly abandoned. A few colonizer outposts, a research and monitoring base and the lab they’re heading for. There can’t be more than a hundred people, total, living on a medium sized world. Dean’s going to have to land manually, as the planet is rated too low in importance to be entered into the UAP database to allow for automated landing.
He’d actually managed to sleep through the night. Not comfortably, still plagued with dreams of unending torment, but he didn't wake up screaming for a brother who doesn't want him around. Sam still hasn't contacted him.
He shakes the thoughts out of his head as he prepares the IMPALA. He checks everything is functional, explaining why to Cas as he goes along. If they’re going to be around each other for a while, this is basic training, required knowledge. Baby is too important to hurt just because Cas doesn't know how to treat her right.
I do not understand your attachment to this inanimate object, but I assure you if I am ever allowed to touch your ship, I will treat it with the utmost respect.
Dean sighs, “Her, Cas. Her. Baby is not an it.”
He’s starting to enjoy winding up the angel. Cas has a sense of openness and sincerity to everything he does, though Dean is suspecting he’s not always completely honest. Cas occasionally skirts around subjects relating to angels and their myths, changing the subject before Dean can dig deeper.
It would bother him, but Cas has an earnestness that allows Dean to trust him, at least for the moment. He wants to know what causes Cas to become so quiet when he asks about certain topics, especially about how the angels came to be under Alastair. The need to know burns with each passing day, but Cas has been nothing but patient with getting Dean to talk, so he should return the favor.
He lands the IMPALA with an ease born of growing up flying her. He feels the moment her engines switch from space-time manipulation into direct gravity, rather than relying on the monitors, and adjusts how he flies her accordingly. It’s automatic as he lands her, his focus on the comfort of flying and the hum of her engines. It’s a textbook landing on all accounts, despite the tingle of fear just before they hit the ground.
There’s only a short walk to the lab, though he airlocks the IMPALA and wears a purifier over his mouth and nose as a precaution. The air is breathable, but Cas would probably object to the slightly toxic nature of some of the other gases present.
The world is dusty and barren. There are no clouds, and once again Dean thanks the heavens that his father never started using non-worlds as bases. It would have been intolerable.
He barely has time to hermetically seal the lab and get through the decontamination process before he’s assaulted by a mass of red hair. He flinches back as Charlie barrels into him and she draws back immediately, switching to a gentle fist-bump without acknowledging his initial reaction.
“It’s good to see you, Winchester,” she starts, grabbing his toolbox from him and moving deeper into the lab. “I've got so much dirt on Alastair we could lock him up for years.”
That is most fortunate.
“That’s great, Charlie. You deleted everything to do with the hack?” he asks.
“Please, Dean. As if I’d mess up with something like that. He’ll have no idea someone even got access to his little files, let alone who did it.”
She turns to face him, placing his toolbox on a work-bench, “He’s one sick son-of-a-bitch, and that’s coming from someone who lived under Dick Roman’s rule for years. He kept records of everything, to our advantage. Half of the stuff he’s doing has been outlawed for centuries.”
Dean already knows this, has felt the full extent of Alastair's depravity. There’s a chill in the Batcave, and he shivers suddenly, drawing Charlie’s gaze.
“Hey. You okay? We don’t have to talk about it if it’s making you uncomfortable,” she says gently.
“Nah. It’s fine. You probably saw the worst of it, anyway.”
Charlie levels her gaze at him, “Yeah, I did. It’s going to give me nightmares for years, and I didn't experience any of it first-hand.”
Heavy guilt settles in Dean’s stomach at what she says. He should never have brought her into this.
“Oh, don’t blame yourself, Dean. I’m the one who kept watching the holovids after the first one. I’d want in on this even if you weren’' involved.” Her eyes blaze with anger at the memory of Alastair's recordings.
He meets her eyes, and nods. She knows. She knows everything that happens to Alastair's unfortunate test-subjects and she still wants to touch him. Still wants to be around him when he’s dirty and broken and used. She hasn't abandoned him and is actually trying to help. He doesn't deserve the help of one person, let alone three. That makes Charlie and Cas and Benny who haven’t discarded him. It’s more than he can ever hope for.
“Thanks, Bradbury,” he gets out, voice choked with emotion.
“You’re welcome. Now, come over here and I’ll show you exactly how we’re going to blackmail Revelation Industries,” Charlie says, moving on quickly from more emotional topics of conversation.
She guides him over to a large display, bringing up data of purchases and communication logs. He spots it before she has a chance of pointing it out.
“Oh my god,” he gasps.
“I know.”
I appear to be missing something?
“Oh. Um. Let’s see,” Dean starts. “This equipment,” he gestures to the top right of the display, “was meant to be destroyed over fifty years ago. That and the communications logs here, with the weird coordinates and timestamps mean that Alastair's built himself a pocket universe. He’d be in such deep shit if it came out,” he says gleefully.
“I assume you were talking to Cas, but yes. Which makes me ask how the hell you got out, Dean?” Charlie questions.
Dean pauses. He doesn't want to have to go back through the escape. It’s filled with panic and running and clawing for his very survival.
The amulet.
A silver pendant snatched from Azazel’s neck. A burning as a wormhole opens up in front of him.
“Of course,” he breathes out.
Dean fumbles quickly under his clothes and pulls out Azazel’s pendant. “I’m not sure, but I think it’s to do with this. It’s some sort of key?”
“Hell, Dean. I don’t want to even touch that thing, let alone open it up and see how it works. I’ll leave that to the machine-heads,” she says fondly.
“Right. So now what? I build the chips we need, for me and Cas. You set up the drop-point for the body. Specify the one that Cas was in before, we know that one will hold him.”
“That’s good for me, Dean. How long do you think it’s going to take?” she asks.
Don’t forget you need to learn how to put them in too.
Dean calculates it in his head. Maybe a week to build he chips, he already has a basic blueprint in his head, two, possibly three to read up on the medical procedure and get enough practice in the sims to be confident.
“Three weeks, maybe a month. I need a week here. Everything else we can do while travelling,” he decides.
“Right you are. I’ll set it up for twenty-five standard days. Maybe use a moon about two weeks travel from here as the drop-site. I got your back,” Charlie says, grinning over at Dean.
If that’s all sorted then we should begin as soon as possible. You need as much practice as you can get.
Chapter 5
Chapter 7
-The Angel and the Righteous Man, Origins and History of a Legend
By Carver Edlund
They’re a few days out from Charlie when Dean plucks up the courage to talk to Benny. For an AI Dean designed and programmed himself, a bored ten-year-old with too much time alone, Benny takes none of his bullshit and is overwhelmingly protective of him. Growing up, he was glad the worst the AI could do was play with the water temperature of the shower, so that his dad would be drenched with cold water in retaliation for hurting Dean.
He boots up the computer, allowing Benny access to the display. Cas had been pre-warned that he’s most probably going to be subject to a grilling.
“Hey, brother,” Benny’s smiling image hits the display, “It’s been a while, cher.”
“Hey, Benny.” Dean attempts his usual smile, but knows it doesn't reach his eyes when Benny’s happiness turns to concern.
“What’s happened? I thought you had Sam all good and sorted? Is it linked to that weird old brain scan of yours?” the questions come, rapid fire.
“I…” Dean searches for the words. He’s had enough time now to sort things through so that his thoughts are coherent enough for him to start talking about them. “Alastair turned out to be a bust. He lied about what he wanted. It was,” he pauses, breathing through the nausea and flashes of torment that flicker behind his closed eyes. “It was hell Benny. I thought. I thought that I could handle anything after… You know my childhood. This was so much worse.”
“That’s why you've got all those new scars. Dean, I’m sorry this happened. It’s not your fault,” Benny says. “I know your mind, Dean, you’ll be working everything out to put you in the wrong so you don’t have to deal with the fact that you’re a victim. Again.”
He and I are on the same page about that.
That snaps Dean back into the reality of the situation.
“There’s more, though. The brain scan. That’s a little hitch-hiker I picked up as I was playing pin-cushion for Alastair. His name’s Castiel.” Dean likes to think he kept his voice even through his explanation, but he knows his voice is starting to shake with the realization of everything he went through.
Benny’s face goes tight with a series of emotions Dean can’t quite follow before he speaks again. “And this Castiel is listening to all of this?”
“Uh. Yes?” Dean answers, confused.
“In which case, hello, Castiel. My name is Benny, and if you hurt a hair on this young man’s pretty head, emotionally, physically, whatever, I will find you. And I will make you wish you never laid eyes on him.” Benny’s tone drops into outright threatening and, not for the first time, Dean is glad that only he can access the AI. He shudders to think what Benny might have said to his dad, or even Sam, on occasion.
I question how he will be able to achieve this feat when he has no physical presence.
Dean’s eyes widen marginally. It’s the harshest he’s ever heard from Cas, apart from when he threatened to take control of Dean’s body without permission. He doesn't tell Cas of his plans to build a hominoid robot for Benny to use, eventually, when the laws on AIs are relaxed.
“He hears you, Benny,” he tries, attempting diplomacy.
“Good,” Benny growls out. “Now tell my why you’re racing off to Charlie instead of your brother.”
That’s. That’s not good. The memory of him pinning Sam to the wall, exacting physical violence on a human being who didn't do anything, aches. It’s like there’s a hole in his chest, knowing his brother wants nothing to do with him.
“I did see him,” he attempts, evading lightly.
“I see, cher. And why isn't he with you?” Benny asks carefully.
Dean knows that if he stops, stalls once more, Benny won’t push. But it’s Benny, and the guy has been his one source of support for so long that it’s easier to tell him than not.
“I pushed him into a wall. Nearly broke his arm. Didn't think he’d want me around after that,” he begins.
Of course. Breaking into his home only to hear how he wishes you gone from his life before being thrown into a PTSD flashback in which you lashed out in panic had absolutely nothing to do with it.
“Shut up, Cas,” he snaps, momentarily forgetting he’s not alone.
Benny raises an eyebrow. “He bothering you Dean?”
“No. Cas is just trying to tell me that hurting Sam wasn't my fault. Which it was,” Dean snaps before Cas can interrupt him.
“And why exactly does Castiel think that, Dean?” Benny asks.
Dean knows he’s caught. Anything less than the truth is going to leave him with two grumpy, protective assholes.
“I may have overheard him talking about me. It wasn't particularly nice. You know the sort of things the home-worlds say about no-brain colonizers. So I was just going to leave, didn't want to screw up his life and he kinda grabbed me, and I thought he was Alastair. But I still hurt him!” His words trip over themselves as he tries to explain to Benny the depth of his transgressions.
“So basically, you hear him talkin’ down about you. Again. You try and leave, he tries to stop you, and you relive one of your more traumatic experiences, ending in Sam getting a bruise. At worst. Is that what you’re tellin’ me, cher?” Benny summarizes.
Put like that it seems a lot less terrible. The UAP don’t even charge people who commit an act of violence as a result of untreated mental health problems. They’d rather help them.
“Oh,” he says, voice small.
“I’d say. So you know the drill now. When you need to talk, you talk. It doesn't have to be me. You talk at your own pace to someone you trust. Then we go back to working on your little issue of you putting your own needs so far behind everyone else’s that you forget you have them. Okay?”
“Okay.”
It’s all he can agree to for now. Benny isn't going to pressure him into talking, neither will Cas. He’s emotionally drained enough just from the mention of Alastair and the clusterfuck that was him going to Sam.
Benny seems to sense that and with a quick goodbye, as well as a promise to keep him updated, vanishes from the display.
“So?” he says, a little defensively, to Castiel.
I am not sure that we will ever be friends, but he is there for you as I am, and was long before I was even in the picture. He’s someone you trust, so I suppose I can accept it.
Cas is almost petulant. Dean laughs a little. They’re like children battling over who gets to be his best friend. It’s been a while since he was valued by enough people for that to happen.
The thought is sobering enough. He frowns and pulls up the schematics for some of the equipment he’s designing for enhancing the basic water systems of colonizer planets.
I've been thinking a little on the subject of enhancing our bond. I believe I have a solution, if you can develop the appropriate technological device.
“Well color me impressed, Cas! What've you got for me?” he asks, pleased.
Is there any way you can amplify brain signals? There would still be a limit on the distance we could be apart, but it would allow some degree of physical separation.
Dean thinks for a moment, and then winces.
What is it? Is my idea unfeasible?
“Nah, Cas, that’s not the problem. We have the technology, it’s just highly illegal. The problem would be concealing the brain-implant from scans and such. And we’d both need one,” he explains.
He fights the sensation of something crawling under his skin. It’s too close to how he got involved with Alastair in the first place. Sam, desperate for college funds was willing to sign up to clinical trials with Azazel. To have a chip, rather like the one Dean’s planning, installed in his head. Instead of merely amplifying brainwaves, Azazel wanted to improve on the human condition. Recipients would be faster, stronger, and more intelligent than they were.
Dean was lucky to get Sam out before the trial went ahead. Many of the participants went mad, killed themselves or each other. It’s part of the reason any technology to manipulate brainwaves is banned now. Azazel was discredited, but must have found employment with Alastair, as Dean knew only too well.
I see. Do you know how to make one of these implants? And how to insert it?
“Make? Yeah. It’s not complicated. Charlie has some micro-circuitry synthesizers in the lab. As for putting them in, we can read up on it,” he sounds a lot more confident than he feels. Hopefully Cas won’t pick up on that. He’s already planned the implant in his head.
Then I see no reason to hold back. I am amenable to this plan.
Dean fights a grin as Cas finally gives his consent. They’re actively doing something. They’re going to fight. If the thought of maybe having to see Alastair again wasn't so distressing, Dean would almost say he’s happy.
***
The planet Charlie has her lab on, which they've called the Batcave for an age, (something to do with orphans and a vigilante from 20th Century literature, Dean doesn't ask) is an unnamed, uncharted planet. The UAP decided that it was essentially worthless. It has no strategic value, poor soil quality, worse air quality and a lack of mineral resources, which all added up to a big fat zero in the eyes of the UAP. In the end, the planet was mostly abandoned. A few colonizer outposts, a research and monitoring base and the lab they’re heading for. There can’t be more than a hundred people, total, living on a medium sized world. Dean’s going to have to land manually, as the planet is rated too low in importance to be entered into the UAP database to allow for automated landing.
He’d actually managed to sleep through the night. Not comfortably, still plagued with dreams of unending torment, but he didn't wake up screaming for a brother who doesn't want him around. Sam still hasn't contacted him.
He shakes the thoughts out of his head as he prepares the IMPALA. He checks everything is functional, explaining why to Cas as he goes along. If they’re going to be around each other for a while, this is basic training, required knowledge. Baby is too important to hurt just because Cas doesn't know how to treat her right.
I do not understand your attachment to this inanimate object, but I assure you if I am ever allowed to touch your ship, I will treat it with the utmost respect.
Dean sighs, “Her, Cas. Her. Baby is not an it.”
He’s starting to enjoy winding up the angel. Cas has a sense of openness and sincerity to everything he does, though Dean is suspecting he’s not always completely honest. Cas occasionally skirts around subjects relating to angels and their myths, changing the subject before Dean can dig deeper.
It would bother him, but Cas has an earnestness that allows Dean to trust him, at least for the moment. He wants to know what causes Cas to become so quiet when he asks about certain topics, especially about how the angels came to be under Alastair. The need to know burns with each passing day, but Cas has been nothing but patient with getting Dean to talk, so he should return the favor.
He lands the IMPALA with an ease born of growing up flying her. He feels the moment her engines switch from space-time manipulation into direct gravity, rather than relying on the monitors, and adjusts how he flies her accordingly. It’s automatic as he lands her, his focus on the comfort of flying and the hum of her engines. It’s a textbook landing on all accounts, despite the tingle of fear just before they hit the ground.
There’s only a short walk to the lab, though he airlocks the IMPALA and wears a purifier over his mouth and nose as a precaution. The air is breathable, but Cas would probably object to the slightly toxic nature of some of the other gases present.
The world is dusty and barren. There are no clouds, and once again Dean thanks the heavens that his father never started using non-worlds as bases. It would have been intolerable.
He barely has time to hermetically seal the lab and get through the decontamination process before he’s assaulted by a mass of red hair. He flinches back as Charlie barrels into him and she draws back immediately, switching to a gentle fist-bump without acknowledging his initial reaction.
“It’s good to see you, Winchester,” she starts, grabbing his toolbox from him and moving deeper into the lab. “I've got so much dirt on Alastair we could lock him up for years.”
That is most fortunate.
“That’s great, Charlie. You deleted everything to do with the hack?” he asks.
“Please, Dean. As if I’d mess up with something like that. He’ll have no idea someone even got access to his little files, let alone who did it.”
She turns to face him, placing his toolbox on a work-bench, “He’s one sick son-of-a-bitch, and that’s coming from someone who lived under Dick Roman’s rule for years. He kept records of everything, to our advantage. Half of the stuff he’s doing has been outlawed for centuries.”
Dean already knows this, has felt the full extent of Alastair's depravity. There’s a chill in the Batcave, and he shivers suddenly, drawing Charlie’s gaze.
“Hey. You okay? We don’t have to talk about it if it’s making you uncomfortable,” she says gently.
“Nah. It’s fine. You probably saw the worst of it, anyway.”
Charlie levels her gaze at him, “Yeah, I did. It’s going to give me nightmares for years, and I didn't experience any of it first-hand.”
Heavy guilt settles in Dean’s stomach at what she says. He should never have brought her into this.
“Oh, don’t blame yourself, Dean. I’m the one who kept watching the holovids after the first one. I’d want in on this even if you weren’' involved.” Her eyes blaze with anger at the memory of Alastair's recordings.
He meets her eyes, and nods. She knows. She knows everything that happens to Alastair's unfortunate test-subjects and she still wants to touch him. Still wants to be around him when he’s dirty and broken and used. She hasn't abandoned him and is actually trying to help. He doesn't deserve the help of one person, let alone three. That makes Charlie and Cas and Benny who haven’t discarded him. It’s more than he can ever hope for.
“Thanks, Bradbury,” he gets out, voice choked with emotion.
“You’re welcome. Now, come over here and I’ll show you exactly how we’re going to blackmail Revelation Industries,” Charlie says, moving on quickly from more emotional topics of conversation.
She guides him over to a large display, bringing up data of purchases and communication logs. He spots it before she has a chance of pointing it out.
“Oh my god,” he gasps.
“I know.”
I appear to be missing something?
“Oh. Um. Let’s see,” Dean starts. “This equipment,” he gestures to the top right of the display, “was meant to be destroyed over fifty years ago. That and the communications logs here, with the weird coordinates and timestamps mean that Alastair's built himself a pocket universe. He’d be in such deep shit if it came out,” he says gleefully.
“I assume you were talking to Cas, but yes. Which makes me ask how the hell you got out, Dean?” Charlie questions.
Dean pauses. He doesn't want to have to go back through the escape. It’s filled with panic and running and clawing for his very survival.
The amulet.
A silver pendant snatched from Azazel’s neck. A burning as a wormhole opens up in front of him.
“Of course,” he breathes out.
Dean fumbles quickly under his clothes and pulls out Azazel’s pendant. “I’m not sure, but I think it’s to do with this. It’s some sort of key?”
“Hell, Dean. I don’t want to even touch that thing, let alone open it up and see how it works. I’ll leave that to the machine-heads,” she says fondly.
“Right. So now what? I build the chips we need, for me and Cas. You set up the drop-point for the body. Specify the one that Cas was in before, we know that one will hold him.”
“That’s good for me, Dean. How long do you think it’s going to take?” she asks.
Don’t forget you need to learn how to put them in too.
Dean calculates it in his head. Maybe a week to build he chips, he already has a basic blueprint in his head, two, possibly three to read up on the medical procedure and get enough practice in the sims to be confident.
“Three weeks, maybe a month. I need a week here. Everything else we can do while travelling,” he decides.
“Right you are. I’ll set it up for twenty-five standard days. Maybe use a moon about two weeks travel from here as the drop-site. I got your back,” Charlie says, grinning over at Dean.
If that’s all sorted then we should begin as soon as possible. You need as much practice as you can get.
Chapter 5
Chapter 7