The Celestial Evolution of Dean Winchester: Chapter Two
Title: The Celestial Evolution of Dean Winchester: Chapter Two
Author: muchofthetime
Rating: R
Genre and/or Pairing: Dean/Castiel, Sam/Billie Jenkins
Spoilers: Anything's game.
Warnings: Somewhat sexy times, language
Word Count: ~33k
Summary: When a vengeful witch turns Dean into an angel, he, Sam, and Cas have to race the clock to get him turned back before his Grace explodes his fragile human body. Luckily, Cas has a history with the three most powerful good witches of all time, and they might be willing to help.
Having the powers of an angel and not being allowed to use them makes this officially the most boring Big Deal of Dean's long career. He never wanted to be an angel - a long year of dodging Michael's increasingly impatient advances proved that - but it's only fair that, since his vampire-self had to deal with the gigantic fang teeth, that his celestial one should be allowed to experience a perk or two of being an Angel of the Lord, or whatever. He definitely isn't aiming to test his flying ability any time soon, but it might be cool to do some healing or something. Doesn't seem like too much to ask since he's probably going to die within the next week.
Cas, however, has not been the slightest bit sympathetic to his plight, maintaining that it is dangerous for Dean to try to access this alien Grace, and Sam seems content to go along with whatever Cas thinks.
Family, he can't help thinking ruefully, but then his eyes slide over to Cas, who is anxiously waiting for someone to answer the door, eyes all squinty, flitting to the windows, and he tries not to roll his eyes at himself. Well - kind of. Because, and it's one of those If you would have told me four years ago things, being pathetically in love with someone doesn't really make them your brother.
It's never made any kind of sense. He fought side by side with Cas for years with no doubts, no second guessing, and while, yes, there had been an odd sort of "bond" or whatever, he had been able to ignore it, chalking up the affection, the protectiveness, to close friendship, never examining it too closely. Never wanting to. Because whenever he allowed himself a moment to reflect over too-long stares, too-close proximity, he faced more questions than answers.
It was Purgatory that changed everything. Laying eyes on a dirty, grimy Cas after . . . so long looking for him, praying to him, thinking he was dead, again, the overwhelming relief that rushed over him nearly knocked him over. And he'd known, in that moment, that he couldn't do this again. That he had somehow gone from used to Cas in his life, to needing it, and he could have kissed him.
Like, really kissed him. Pressed him into the ground, trail lips down his throat. Snap apart that confining self control, and let himself show Cas just how relieved he was.
It was probably a good thing Benny was there.
Dean planned to be patient. To get out of Purgatory, allow them time to readjust, and then he would somehow find the words to talk to Cas. He couldn't be sure what the reaction would be, but if he and Cas could survive an apocalypse, a rebellion, and mind control, he felt confident that if the answer was no, a little awkwardness wouldn't be a problem. Hell, it wouldn't be them if there was none at all.
Of course it hadn't worked out that way, and now Cas is a human, finding his sea legs, and Dean spends his afternoons mentally grumbling about his shitty timing.
He forces his attention back to the scene unfolding in front of him, and then blinks at the newcomer. Now standing beside the blonde is an older woman, in her late thirties, if he had to guess, with surprisingly long brown hair, and kind brown eyes. She offers them a smile, and extends a hand to Castiel, who takes it, if a little hesitantly. "We've been expecting you," she says.
Dean glances at Sam. Cas filled them in on his history with this family, and something in his expression tells Dean that this is exactly the person he has dreaded seeing.
"I'm Piper Halliwell. This is my friend, Billie Jenkins," she continues, completely oblivious. Which she would be. He has no clue at all what Cas looked like when they met in Heaven, but he's betting that the then-angel wasn't wearing Jimmy Novak. He wonders if she's seen Cas' wings, and accepts the girlish pang of jealousy that comes along for the ride.
She stares, expectant.
"Castiel." The answer is slow, careful.
It's a little nerve-racking, Dean's not too ashamed to admit, to stand there and silently watch as the recognition settles in behind her eyes. She blinks, and her features harden slightly. "Castiel. The angel."
"Yes. Though I'm not an angel anymore."
She lets out an annoyed huff of breath and turns her eyes upward. Dean feels like he can sense an internal battle raging: slam the door in the face of the guy that nearly cost her her husband, or help the innocents? "Okay," she says after a moment, with only the smallest amount of disdain. "It's fine. Come on in."
She steps back, and Dean, Sam, and Cas follow her into the manor.
Dean's been inside more residences than he can count in his thirty-odd years, and he can't help but note the utter sense of family that's so deeply ingrained in the scuffed hardwood floors, the overstuffed couch with the frayed edges, the toys scattered haphazardly across the conservatory floor. This is a place that has been loved, he knows.
But there's something else too, scratching at the corners of his mind, something that whispers a long history of magic, of power that is almost unmatched in its strength. It bubbles just under the surface of the house and Dean can't fight a dart of fear that strikes him hard in the pit of his stomach. It takes all the self-restraint he has in reserve to keep from grabbing Cas with one hand and Sam with the other, and pulling his family out of here right the fuck now. He swallows, and when he looks up he sees Piper, Billie, and Sam watching him with raised eyebrows. Cas, on the other hand, looks completely bemused.
"He's sensing the Nexus," Cas explains, as an expression that might be wistfulness flickers quickly across his face.
Sam steals a not-at-all-subtle, appraising inspection at his brother. "Nexus?" Dean can practically see the wheels in his nerdy little brain turning. "Like, a spiritual Nexus?"
"Yeah, our house was built on one." Piper turns to Cas. "But we destroyed it, years ago."
"It wouldn't matter," he replies. "The echo remains." His eyes turn sympathetic as they meet Dean's. "It's not a pleasant feeling for an angel, I'd imagine." When Dean gives a short nod, he sighs. "The Nexus residing under the Halliwell Manor is ancient magic, as old as time, and it's been harnessed a number of times for evil's purposes. It's not easy, Dean, I know, but you must try to put it out of your mind."
Easier said than done, Dean thinks, so it's a little bit of a relief that Billie chooses that moment to speak up again. "You're an angel," she asks with an innocent curiosity that reminds him strikingly of Sam. "Not a Whitelighter, but an actual. Angel. Where are your wings?"
"Yeah, Cas. Where are my wings?"
"I've advised him not to use any of abilities. The Grace inside him-"
"Okay!" Piper whistles sharp and loud, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. "People! Can we please focus on the big picture here?" She turns to Sam, who tries not to flinch under the steely gaze. "My sisters should be here soon; they ran out to get some herbs we might need for potions, but I can give them the cliff notes version when they get back. Why don't you fill Billie and me in?"
So Sam takes a deep breath, and launches into an in-depth explanation of the events leading to the trio's arrival. He talks about the witch, the spell, what the Grace will inevitably do to his brother. Dean can't help but notice the way Billie's eyes stay trained on Sam's face, and when she catches him staring, she cocks an eyebrow as though to say, Yeah, and?
He smirks back. No judgement here. He could use it.
As Sam's story draws to a close, Piper presses her lips together into a tight line that really does nothing to soothe Dean's anxiety. "A spell that can turn a human being into an angel? Can't say I've ever heard of anything like that." She glances at her friend. "What about you?"
Billie shakes her head. "Nothing comes to mind. And wouldn't that require a lot of firepower? I mean, is that the kind of thing even the infamous Charmed Ones could do?"
Piper doesn't answer, which is really an answer all on its own, and silence falls.
"You guys should see your faces."
There was a time when that voice was a starring role in Dean's darkest nightmares. Sometimes terrified, sometimes furious, it spewed words that were too accurate to ever truly leave his thoughts, and even in his waking hours his own argument sounded weak. I'm sorry. Sam was- and I had to make a choice. God, I'm so sorry, Adam . . .
He turns, though he knows what he'll see. A blond male in his early twenties, medium height, sharp features. He dons simple jeans and a tee shirt, and his hands rest in the pockets of his denim jacket. Every inch of him is arrogance and anger. "Miss me?"
The truth is, Sam and Dean could have gone their entire lives without ever knowing anything about a kid in Windom, Minnesota named Adam Milligan. They had never had reason to suspect that there was someone missing from their family, or that their father was doing anything more than hunting monsters on the nights he didn't return to the motel. John Winchester was already known for having a short fuse, and if there were days when his tone was a little sharper, and tension a little higher, they never would have thought that it had anything to do with an illegitimate half-brother.
They'd known him one day. Dead when they found him, then resurrected by the angels as a makeshift vessel for Michael, Adam hadn't wanted to hear all the reasons they hadn't known anything about him, why John was gone 364 days a year. He'd been furious, stubborn, and he could have fit in perfectly, there was just no use denying it. But Death had given Dean a choice and he had chosen Sam, and Adam had paid the price.
Though if Sam is being honest with himself, he has to admit that 500 years in Hell doesn't seem to have had any sort of lasting impact on the 20 year old body standing in the Halliwell's living room.
"He a friend of yours," Piper asks, and out of the corner of his eye Sam watches her hands twitch at her sides. If his memory serves, she's the one with the freezing/blowing up power that might be the coolest thing he's ever heard of in his life, and so he guesses she is keeping herself from going on the offensive before getting the details. Which, really, he should be grateful for, but he's thinking that Adam being here now is probably not a good thing.
Adam turns a cold smile on Piper. "I'm their brother," he says, and the room seems to crackle with his heavy fury. "Don't really get talked about much. I'm kind of the black sheep of the family."
"Adam." Cas' voice comes from Sam's left, and is carefully calm. "How did you escape the Cage?" Which, Sam was really more focused on whether or not he was behind all of this, but the former angel's question casts light on a problem he hadn't even considered. He, himself, had been rescued by an angel of the freaking Lord, and his soul hadn't even made it out the first go-around. How is Adam standing here?
He arches his eyebrows, but doesn't answer.
"Maybe it's not Adam at all," Dean suggests, taking a step closer. (Cas steps closer too, and if the situation weren't as we're-about-to-die-any-minute as it is, Sam would probably roll his eyes.)
But Adam doesn't snap his fingers and blow everyone away, which Sam decides to count as a win, though he doesn't back down either. "No, I'm definitely 100% Adam here. I learned my lesson the last time."
"How did you get out of the Cage," Cas repeats and at the hostile look Adam shoots him, Sam stiffens. Adam may be blood, and it might be Sam and Dean's fault that he's been cooling his heels in Hell for a few centuries, but that doesn't mean that Sam won't cheerfully throw him to the ground if he tries to lay a hand on Cas. It nearly killed Dean the last time they thought Cas was dead, and if something were to happen to him now, now that he's chosen the Winchesters, Dean, again. Well that might be enough to finish the job.
"Look, Adam," Sam begins - and then a lot of things happen at once.
Adam steps forward, Piper snaps at him to Stop right there. He doesn't, then the sudden sound of a fiery explosion bursts through the air like a gun shot. Adam lets out a shout, and doubles over, gripping his stomach in agony and just as he's righting himself and Sam starts to feel real concern for the safety of the dark haired witch that delivered the magical blow, the front door to the manor flies open, two women rushing into the room.
"Who are we fighting," demands the one Sam assumes is the younger of the two strangers, and Piper immediately points at Adam.
The other newcomer stares. "The kid?"
"Crystals-"
But whatever the youngest sister planned to do is cut short when Adam vanishes into thin air. Sam tries to listen for the sound of wings, but if he's getting around angelically in some way, the sound is hidden among the ruckus.
"So," Billie says brightly after a long moment where everyone in the room stares at each other blankly. "That was your brother? Don't take this the wrong way, but the guy could use a Prozac."
He can't help the way his lips quirk up and he finds his eyes resting a beat longer on the young witch. "Yeah, you're telling us." He glances quickly at Dean and Cas, breathes a sigh of relief to see that neither was accidentally seared to death by the blast.
"I'm Paige." The girl that had called for the crystals sticks out a hand that Sam shakes, chuckling low. "I, uh. You know. Call for things with my mind. It's a whole thing. And this is Phoebe." She gestures to the final woman, who remains silent, her eyes darting quickly between the three men. "She's not normally this rude, but she's an empath, so she's just checking to make sure you guys aren't secretly ax murderers or demons or something."
"Damn, that would be a handy power to have around," Dean mutters, not bothering to hide an envious glare and Sam thoroughly agrees.
"I'm Sam. This is my brother, Dean, and our friend, Castiel." The other two men squeeze her hand in turn.
"Definitely not evil," Phoebe interrupts with a decisive nod. She smiles wide and draws closer to Dean. "You must be the angel."
Dean shrugs, and as she begins a quick series of questions, Sam turns back to Billie, replaying her brief dialogue with Piper in his mind, the memory of her clear, green eyes shadowed with uncertainty twisting his stomach into nervous knots. "So, is there anything you can do?"
But the question seems to clear her mind, and she's all confidence when she answers, "I'm sure we'll figure something out. It's kind of our specialty."
He breathes a little easier, and grins. "We have that in common."
It's quiet after that for a while. Paige and Phoebe present the herbs they purchased, and Piper bottles them with vague explanations of "deflection" and "more for protection than anything else." Cas and the Winchesters answer dozens of questions about their predicament, and listen to the various ideas that each witch considers, and ultimately discards, and at the end of it all the only suggestion with merit is Phoebe's, "Time to check the Book." So the group migrates to the attic, Cas falling into a deliberate step by Piper as they travel up the staircase.
"I was sorry to hear about Prudence," he says. He's wanted to say so since they arrived. Even from his location in Heaven he felt the terrible grief that had followed the eldest sister's death, and though he had been made aware of the plan that was in motion for uncovering Paige's part in the Charmed One's destiny, it was difficult to ignore Piper's heartbroken pleas to rewind time and take her instead. Looking back, he supposes he should have been expecting the friendship of one man to take his slivers of doubt and burst them wide open.
Now, she looks over at him, surprised. "Thank you."
"She was a good person. It's unfortunate, the way it unfolded." He knows enough of Piper to know that she couldn't choose to trade the sister she has for the sister she lost, and he struggles to say the right thing. After the Leviathans departed from his body, he had resolved to mend as much of the pain he had caused as possible, and though his sins against Piper's relationship with Leo took place long before his path to Purgatory, he finds himself wanting to fix this problem as well.
A wisp of a smile ghosts across her face. "What happened to you," she teases, as whatever residual tension that still existed fades away.
And his eyes fall on Dean, laughing at whatever it is Sam is saying. "It's a long story."
"Some day I want you to tell it to me."
When they get to the landing, Paige is already perusing the Book and Phoebe and Sam find seats in the antique chair and love seat while Dean seems content to hover impatiently at Paige's side. Her hands still over one of the entries and Dean apparently feels the need to point out, "That's for something called an Abraxas." He pauses. "What's an Abraxas?"
"Demon, and a spell can always be reworded, you know," she tells him, the tiniest bit of annoyance creeping into her tone.
"Yeah," Billie chimes in. She lowers herself into the very large, pink cushion Dean once told him is called a "Bean Bag Chair." Frankly, he has never understood how it could be comfortable. "She helped vanquish the freaking Source, she can rewrite a spell. Although I don't think the Abraxas spell would work."
Paige throws her a frown, turning the page. "Yeah, thanks, I know."
"What Source," Dean asks, throwing a curious glance at Cas, but it's Piper that answers.
"The source of all evil."
When Cas doesn't argue with the provided explanation, Dean lets out an irritated breath. "What does that mean? Like, Lucifer?"
"Lucifer? Satan? No such thing."
"Uh, yeah there is. My brother's been up close and personal with the guy. Practically besties."
Sam frowns. "That's a little bit of an exaggeration, don't you think," he says, and even Cas doesn't miss the way his eyes skirt to Billie, who grins.
"Oh, don't worry about it - we've all been evil at some point," she assures him. "I, myself, spent an evening as a government test-demon, so we're not really ones to judge." She gestures to Paige, who continues her search through the Book. "She was a vampire once. Before my time, but I've heard the story. A few times, actually." She shoots a pointed look at Paige, who shoots back a mock-glare. It's familiar in a way that somehow warms Cas' insides.
Dean rolls his eyes. "Like that's a big deal. I've been a vampire before too. Hell, I've been dead. A lot."
From Cas' right, Piper scoffs. "We're the Charmed Ones, you don't think we've died? I've been Death."
"Technically," Cas intervenes, off the look in Dean's eyes, "she was just a Reaper." Though if he had been hoping that would be enough to derail the conversation, he's sorely disappointed.
"You know, Death is one of our close friends," Dean tells Piper. Now that's an exaggeration, and Sam's expression says that he agrees but Cas learned long ago not to go so far as to discredit Dean when the man's pride is in question. "He's done us a few favors here and there. Brought a soul out of Hell for us, once."
"And we get our own souls from Hell."
For the first time since they entered the attic, Phoebe speaks up. "Can you guys please cut it out," she snaps. Cas glances over to see her head in her hands, her fingers gently massaging her temples. "There's a lot of emotion in this little room, and it's hard enough to sort them out without you two breaking out the measuring sticks."
Piper flicks her eyes to the ceiling but sighs. "Fine."
"Too bad she stopped you there. I would have loved to see you try to compete with stopping the apocalypse."
"Anyway-" Paige looks up, sudden interest brightening her face. "You said Death pulled a soul out of Hell for you? Any chance he'd do something like that for this kid, Adam?"
Dean, Cas, and Sam all share a look. It's an interesting idea, Cas decides, and the implications are limitless. What does that mean for Lucifer? How would Adam reach Death to being with? Part of what Dean told Piper is true: Death has done more for the older Winchester than he's done for another human, ever, but if he can be convinced by Dean, it stands to reason that Adam might find the right words as well. He is Dean's brother.
"Because I've searched this book," Paige continues, "and I'm telling you, there is nothing in here about de-angelfying a mortal, or a witch known for casting spells like the one you guys described. So . . ."
"So it all comes back to Adam," Sam finishes for her, and his frown of dismay matches exactly Cas' feeling.
"At least for now."
"I don't . . . Yeah, maybe," Dean concedes after a moment. His eyes narrow almost to slits, and Cas knows he's thinking about the past, about an impossible situation, an impossible decision to make. It's his way, to lay blame on himself when no one else will, and Cas resolves, in that moment, to speak with him the next time they are alone.
"So, we're calling Death, then," Billie asks, pulling Cas from his thoughts She sounds, in his opinion, too eager for this undertaking, because Death - he's never been very patient with being dragged into human affairs, and the Winchesters do call on him a lot. The last time they faced each other, Dean was summoning him to kill an powered-up Castiel and the fact that he had actually been prepared to do so does not make Cas relish the idea of sharing a space with him again.
Piper shrugs, looks to Cas. "What do you think?"
But then he catches Dean watching him, and the the memory of his friend's motionless body shifts jarringly into view. It's Dean's life that's in danger here, so what other option do they even have? "Yes," he says, and if it comes out a little strong, he feels he can hardly be faulted.
Sam shoots him a small smile of gratitude that he returns instinctively. It's strange, he thinks, that he and the younger Winchester should have taken so long to form a close friendship, when Cas' choices have always lead him into the Winchesters' camp. The connection with Dean was always there, a palpable pressure between the two, and tied them together on nights when they were hunting, and on nights when Cas was in heaven, remotely monitoring a motel room where two brothers slept, or laid awake, bickering. So, he should have been close to Sam from the start, because he was close with Dean, and, really, how long had Sam been "The Boy With the Demon Blood" anyway, before that illusion, too, was shattered before his angelic eyes?
It's here now, he reminds himself, and the camaraderie they share when it comes to Dean's ailment feels so natural that a strange, warm feeling travels up his arms, clenches around his stomach, squeezing tight. Having this family has come to mean so much that he can barely remember a time when he ever thought giving up Heaven would be a sacrifice.
Across the room, Billie jumps to her feet, catching everyone's attention.
"What can you tell me about this Death guy," she asks. Her question, he suspects, is directed at the three of them, so he's unsure as to why her gaze is so fastened on Sam. "I'm assuming we're talking about an Upper Level Demon situation, right?"
"Not sure you want him to overhear you calling him a demon," Sam mutters, and Cas privately agrees. "But he's powerful, if that's what you mean."
"Anything else?" She retrieves a small piece of chalk from the stand that holds the Book, and stoops down to draw a large, complex sigil on the floor. It's not one he's seen before, but he knows enough about witches' magic to understand that it's a displacement charm, and suddenly he realizes what she plans to do.
"I'm not sure this is wise," he says, crossing his arms over his chest. "Sam and Dean are familiar with Death, but -" He's not sure it would be polite to finish with I don't think he would like you so he falls silent.
Dean raises his eyebrows. "What's going on?"
Piper sighs, and it's clear that she's struggling between trying to be supportive of her young friend's plan, and concern for her safety. Cas knows that feeling very well. "She wants to project herself to him."
"And by project, you mean . . ."
Billie rolls her eyes as she settles onto the attic floor in the center of her sketch, careful not to smudge the chalk. "Projecting. It's one of my powers: I can send myself through time or distance to wherever I want to go." There's a note of pride in her voice, but it mixes with something else, bitterness, or regret, it's hard for Cas to discern. "So, I figure, instead of summoning the guy, because, you know, some of these guys are all pride, we could just go straight to him."
"You don't think it would be safer to bring him here," Paige questions, even as she closes the Book and steps back. "You know: Halliwell attic, Book of Shadows, four witches, two hunters and an angel?"
"Dean is not actually an angel," Cas feels the need to remind them and he allows a drop of annoyance to fall into his tone. The last thing he needs is for anyone to be under the very mistaken impression that Cas will be training Dean to use his angel powers for their protection. Drawing on the Grace will only shorten the amount of time they have before it takes over completely and his body cannot sustain it anymore.
Sam is the voice of reason. "Look, Billie, no offense, but this isn't going to work," he says gently. His expression is drenched with kindness and understanding. "Even if you could get to Death by using your projection power, you wouldn't know where to find him, or what to say."
For a moment she says nothing and Cas thinks that Sam has, once again, managed to use what Dean calls his "puppy dog eyes" to convince her, but then she shakes her head. "Well, then, I guess I should bring a passenger." She grins up at Sam. "Wanna come?"
next
master post
previous
Author: muchofthetime
Rating: R
Genre and/or Pairing: Dean/Castiel, Sam/Billie Jenkins
Spoilers: Anything's game.
Warnings: Somewhat sexy times, language
Word Count: ~33k
Summary: When a vengeful witch turns Dean into an angel, he, Sam, and Cas have to race the clock to get him turned back before his Grace explodes his fragile human body. Luckily, Cas has a history with the three most powerful good witches of all time, and they might be willing to help.
Having the powers of an angel and not being allowed to use them makes this officially the most boring Big Deal of Dean's long career. He never wanted to be an angel - a long year of dodging Michael's increasingly impatient advances proved that - but it's only fair that, since his vampire-self had to deal with the gigantic fang teeth, that his celestial one should be allowed to experience a perk or two of being an Angel of the Lord, or whatever. He definitely isn't aiming to test his flying ability any time soon, but it might be cool to do some healing or something. Doesn't seem like too much to ask since he's probably going to die within the next week.
Cas, however, has not been the slightest bit sympathetic to his plight, maintaining that it is dangerous for Dean to try to access this alien Grace, and Sam seems content to go along with whatever Cas thinks.
Family, he can't help thinking ruefully, but then his eyes slide over to Cas, who is anxiously waiting for someone to answer the door, eyes all squinty, flitting to the windows, and he tries not to roll his eyes at himself. Well - kind of. Because, and it's one of those If you would have told me four years ago things, being pathetically in love with someone doesn't really make them your brother.
It's never made any kind of sense. He fought side by side with Cas for years with no doubts, no second guessing, and while, yes, there had been an odd sort of "bond" or whatever, he had been able to ignore it, chalking up the affection, the protectiveness, to close friendship, never examining it too closely. Never wanting to. Because whenever he allowed himself a moment to reflect over too-long stares, too-close proximity, he faced more questions than answers.
It was Purgatory that changed everything. Laying eyes on a dirty, grimy Cas after . . . so long looking for him, praying to him, thinking he was dead, again, the overwhelming relief that rushed over him nearly knocked him over. And he'd known, in that moment, that he couldn't do this again. That he had somehow gone from used to Cas in his life, to needing it, and he could have kissed him.
Like, really kissed him. Pressed him into the ground, trail lips down his throat. Snap apart that confining self control, and let himself show Cas just how relieved he was.
It was probably a good thing Benny was there.
Dean planned to be patient. To get out of Purgatory, allow them time to readjust, and then he would somehow find the words to talk to Cas. He couldn't be sure what the reaction would be, but if he and Cas could survive an apocalypse, a rebellion, and mind control, he felt confident that if the answer was no, a little awkwardness wouldn't be a problem. Hell, it wouldn't be them if there was none at all.
Of course it hadn't worked out that way, and now Cas is a human, finding his sea legs, and Dean spends his afternoons mentally grumbling about his shitty timing.
He forces his attention back to the scene unfolding in front of him, and then blinks at the newcomer. Now standing beside the blonde is an older woman, in her late thirties, if he had to guess, with surprisingly long brown hair, and kind brown eyes. She offers them a smile, and extends a hand to Castiel, who takes it, if a little hesitantly. "We've been expecting you," she says.
Dean glances at Sam. Cas filled them in on his history with this family, and something in his expression tells Dean that this is exactly the person he has dreaded seeing.
"I'm Piper Halliwell. This is my friend, Billie Jenkins," she continues, completely oblivious. Which she would be. He has no clue at all what Cas looked like when they met in Heaven, but he's betting that the then-angel wasn't wearing Jimmy Novak. He wonders if she's seen Cas' wings, and accepts the girlish pang of jealousy that comes along for the ride.
She stares, expectant.
"Castiel." The answer is slow, careful.
It's a little nerve-racking, Dean's not too ashamed to admit, to stand there and silently watch as the recognition settles in behind her eyes. She blinks, and her features harden slightly. "Castiel. The angel."
"Yes. Though I'm not an angel anymore."
She lets out an annoyed huff of breath and turns her eyes upward. Dean feels like he can sense an internal battle raging: slam the door in the face of the guy that nearly cost her her husband, or help the innocents? "Okay," she says after a moment, with only the smallest amount of disdain. "It's fine. Come on in."
She steps back, and Dean, Sam, and Cas follow her into the manor.
Dean's been inside more residences than he can count in his thirty-odd years, and he can't help but note the utter sense of family that's so deeply ingrained in the scuffed hardwood floors, the overstuffed couch with the frayed edges, the toys scattered haphazardly across the conservatory floor. This is a place that has been loved, he knows.
But there's something else too, scratching at the corners of his mind, something that whispers a long history of magic, of power that is almost unmatched in its strength. It bubbles just under the surface of the house and Dean can't fight a dart of fear that strikes him hard in the pit of his stomach. It takes all the self-restraint he has in reserve to keep from grabbing Cas with one hand and Sam with the other, and pulling his family out of here right the fuck now. He swallows, and when he looks up he sees Piper, Billie, and Sam watching him with raised eyebrows. Cas, on the other hand, looks completely bemused.
"He's sensing the Nexus," Cas explains, as an expression that might be wistfulness flickers quickly across his face.
Sam steals a not-at-all-subtle, appraising inspection at his brother. "Nexus?" Dean can practically see the wheels in his nerdy little brain turning. "Like, a spiritual Nexus?"
"Yeah, our house was built on one." Piper turns to Cas. "But we destroyed it, years ago."
"It wouldn't matter," he replies. "The echo remains." His eyes turn sympathetic as they meet Dean's. "It's not a pleasant feeling for an angel, I'd imagine." When Dean gives a short nod, he sighs. "The Nexus residing under the Halliwell Manor is ancient magic, as old as time, and it's been harnessed a number of times for evil's purposes. It's not easy, Dean, I know, but you must try to put it out of your mind."
Easier said than done, Dean thinks, so it's a little bit of a relief that Billie chooses that moment to speak up again. "You're an angel," she asks with an innocent curiosity that reminds him strikingly of Sam. "Not a Whitelighter, but an actual. Angel. Where are your wings?"
"Yeah, Cas. Where are my wings?"
"I've advised him not to use any of abilities. The Grace inside him-"
"Okay!" Piper whistles sharp and loud, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. "People! Can we please focus on the big picture here?" She turns to Sam, who tries not to flinch under the steely gaze. "My sisters should be here soon; they ran out to get some herbs we might need for potions, but I can give them the cliff notes version when they get back. Why don't you fill Billie and me in?"
So Sam takes a deep breath, and launches into an in-depth explanation of the events leading to the trio's arrival. He talks about the witch, the spell, what the Grace will inevitably do to his brother. Dean can't help but notice the way Billie's eyes stay trained on Sam's face, and when she catches him staring, she cocks an eyebrow as though to say, Yeah, and?
He smirks back. No judgement here. He could use it.
As Sam's story draws to a close, Piper presses her lips together into a tight line that really does nothing to soothe Dean's anxiety. "A spell that can turn a human being into an angel? Can't say I've ever heard of anything like that." She glances at her friend. "What about you?"
Billie shakes her head. "Nothing comes to mind. And wouldn't that require a lot of firepower? I mean, is that the kind of thing even the infamous Charmed Ones could do?"
Piper doesn't answer, which is really an answer all on its own, and silence falls.
"You guys should see your faces."
There was a time when that voice was a starring role in Dean's darkest nightmares. Sometimes terrified, sometimes furious, it spewed words that were too accurate to ever truly leave his thoughts, and even in his waking hours his own argument sounded weak. I'm sorry. Sam was- and I had to make a choice. God, I'm so sorry, Adam . . .
He turns, though he knows what he'll see. A blond male in his early twenties, medium height, sharp features. He dons simple jeans and a tee shirt, and his hands rest in the pockets of his denim jacket. Every inch of him is arrogance and anger. "Miss me?"
The truth is, Sam and Dean could have gone their entire lives without ever knowing anything about a kid in Windom, Minnesota named Adam Milligan. They had never had reason to suspect that there was someone missing from their family, or that their father was doing anything more than hunting monsters on the nights he didn't return to the motel. John Winchester was already known for having a short fuse, and if there were days when his tone was a little sharper, and tension a little higher, they never would have thought that it had anything to do with an illegitimate half-brother.
They'd known him one day. Dead when they found him, then resurrected by the angels as a makeshift vessel for Michael, Adam hadn't wanted to hear all the reasons they hadn't known anything about him, why John was gone 364 days a year. He'd been furious, stubborn, and he could have fit in perfectly, there was just no use denying it. But Death had given Dean a choice and he had chosen Sam, and Adam had paid the price.
Though if Sam is being honest with himself, he has to admit that 500 years in Hell doesn't seem to have had any sort of lasting impact on the 20 year old body standing in the Halliwell's living room.
"He a friend of yours," Piper asks, and out of the corner of his eye Sam watches her hands twitch at her sides. If his memory serves, she's the one with the freezing/blowing up power that might be the coolest thing he's ever heard of in his life, and so he guesses she is keeping herself from going on the offensive before getting the details. Which, really, he should be grateful for, but he's thinking that Adam being here now is probably not a good thing.
Adam turns a cold smile on Piper. "I'm their brother," he says, and the room seems to crackle with his heavy fury. "Don't really get talked about much. I'm kind of the black sheep of the family."
"Adam." Cas' voice comes from Sam's left, and is carefully calm. "How did you escape the Cage?" Which, Sam was really more focused on whether or not he was behind all of this, but the former angel's question casts light on a problem he hadn't even considered. He, himself, had been rescued by an angel of the freaking Lord, and his soul hadn't even made it out the first go-around. How is Adam standing here?
He arches his eyebrows, but doesn't answer.
"Maybe it's not Adam at all," Dean suggests, taking a step closer. (Cas steps closer too, and if the situation weren't as we're-about-to-die-any-minute as it is, Sam would probably roll his eyes.)
But Adam doesn't snap his fingers and blow everyone away, which Sam decides to count as a win, though he doesn't back down either. "No, I'm definitely 100% Adam here. I learned my lesson the last time."
"How did you get out of the Cage," Cas repeats and at the hostile look Adam shoots him, Sam stiffens. Adam may be blood, and it might be Sam and Dean's fault that he's been cooling his heels in Hell for a few centuries, but that doesn't mean that Sam won't cheerfully throw him to the ground if he tries to lay a hand on Cas. It nearly killed Dean the last time they thought Cas was dead, and if something were to happen to him now, now that he's chosen the Winchesters, Dean, again. Well that might be enough to finish the job.
"Look, Adam," Sam begins - and then a lot of things happen at once.
Adam steps forward, Piper snaps at him to Stop right there. He doesn't, then the sudden sound of a fiery explosion bursts through the air like a gun shot. Adam lets out a shout, and doubles over, gripping his stomach in agony and just as he's righting himself and Sam starts to feel real concern for the safety of the dark haired witch that delivered the magical blow, the front door to the manor flies open, two women rushing into the room.
"Who are we fighting," demands the one Sam assumes is the younger of the two strangers, and Piper immediately points at Adam.
The other newcomer stares. "The kid?"
"Crystals-"
But whatever the youngest sister planned to do is cut short when Adam vanishes into thin air. Sam tries to listen for the sound of wings, but if he's getting around angelically in some way, the sound is hidden among the ruckus.
"So," Billie says brightly after a long moment where everyone in the room stares at each other blankly. "That was your brother? Don't take this the wrong way, but the guy could use a Prozac."
He can't help the way his lips quirk up and he finds his eyes resting a beat longer on the young witch. "Yeah, you're telling us." He glances quickly at Dean and Cas, breathes a sigh of relief to see that neither was accidentally seared to death by the blast.
"I'm Paige." The girl that had called for the crystals sticks out a hand that Sam shakes, chuckling low. "I, uh. You know. Call for things with my mind. It's a whole thing. And this is Phoebe." She gestures to the final woman, who remains silent, her eyes darting quickly between the three men. "She's not normally this rude, but she's an empath, so she's just checking to make sure you guys aren't secretly ax murderers or demons or something."
"Damn, that would be a handy power to have around," Dean mutters, not bothering to hide an envious glare and Sam thoroughly agrees.
"I'm Sam. This is my brother, Dean, and our friend, Castiel." The other two men squeeze her hand in turn.
"Definitely not evil," Phoebe interrupts with a decisive nod. She smiles wide and draws closer to Dean. "You must be the angel."
Dean shrugs, and as she begins a quick series of questions, Sam turns back to Billie, replaying her brief dialogue with Piper in his mind, the memory of her clear, green eyes shadowed with uncertainty twisting his stomach into nervous knots. "So, is there anything you can do?"
But the question seems to clear her mind, and she's all confidence when she answers, "I'm sure we'll figure something out. It's kind of our specialty."
He breathes a little easier, and grins. "We have that in common."
It's quiet after that for a while. Paige and Phoebe present the herbs they purchased, and Piper bottles them with vague explanations of "deflection" and "more for protection than anything else." Cas and the Winchesters answer dozens of questions about their predicament, and listen to the various ideas that each witch considers, and ultimately discards, and at the end of it all the only suggestion with merit is Phoebe's, "Time to check the Book." So the group migrates to the attic, Cas falling into a deliberate step by Piper as they travel up the staircase.
"I was sorry to hear about Prudence," he says. He's wanted to say so since they arrived. Even from his location in Heaven he felt the terrible grief that had followed the eldest sister's death, and though he had been made aware of the plan that was in motion for uncovering Paige's part in the Charmed One's destiny, it was difficult to ignore Piper's heartbroken pleas to rewind time and take her instead. Looking back, he supposes he should have been expecting the friendship of one man to take his slivers of doubt and burst them wide open.
Now, she looks over at him, surprised. "Thank you."
"She was a good person. It's unfortunate, the way it unfolded." He knows enough of Piper to know that she couldn't choose to trade the sister she has for the sister she lost, and he struggles to say the right thing. After the Leviathans departed from his body, he had resolved to mend as much of the pain he had caused as possible, and though his sins against Piper's relationship with Leo took place long before his path to Purgatory, he finds himself wanting to fix this problem as well.
A wisp of a smile ghosts across her face. "What happened to you," she teases, as whatever residual tension that still existed fades away.
And his eyes fall on Dean, laughing at whatever it is Sam is saying. "It's a long story."
"Some day I want you to tell it to me."
When they get to the landing, Paige is already perusing the Book and Phoebe and Sam find seats in the antique chair and love seat while Dean seems content to hover impatiently at Paige's side. Her hands still over one of the entries and Dean apparently feels the need to point out, "That's for something called an Abraxas." He pauses. "What's an Abraxas?"
"Demon, and a spell can always be reworded, you know," she tells him, the tiniest bit of annoyance creeping into her tone.
"Yeah," Billie chimes in. She lowers herself into the very large, pink cushion Dean once told him is called a "Bean Bag Chair." Frankly, he has never understood how it could be comfortable. "She helped vanquish the freaking Source, she can rewrite a spell. Although I don't think the Abraxas spell would work."
Paige throws her a frown, turning the page. "Yeah, thanks, I know."
"What Source," Dean asks, throwing a curious glance at Cas, but it's Piper that answers.
"The source of all evil."
When Cas doesn't argue with the provided explanation, Dean lets out an irritated breath. "What does that mean? Like, Lucifer?"
"Lucifer? Satan? No such thing."
"Uh, yeah there is. My brother's been up close and personal with the guy. Practically besties."
Sam frowns. "That's a little bit of an exaggeration, don't you think," he says, and even Cas doesn't miss the way his eyes skirt to Billie, who grins.
"Oh, don't worry about it - we've all been evil at some point," she assures him. "I, myself, spent an evening as a government test-demon, so we're not really ones to judge." She gestures to Paige, who continues her search through the Book. "She was a vampire once. Before my time, but I've heard the story. A few times, actually." She shoots a pointed look at Paige, who shoots back a mock-glare. It's familiar in a way that somehow warms Cas' insides.
Dean rolls his eyes. "Like that's a big deal. I've been a vampire before too. Hell, I've been dead. A lot."
From Cas' right, Piper scoffs. "We're the Charmed Ones, you don't think we've died? I've been Death."
"Technically," Cas intervenes, off the look in Dean's eyes, "she was just a Reaper." Though if he had been hoping that would be enough to derail the conversation, he's sorely disappointed.
"You know, Death is one of our close friends," Dean tells Piper. Now that's an exaggeration, and Sam's expression says that he agrees but Cas learned long ago not to go so far as to discredit Dean when the man's pride is in question. "He's done us a few favors here and there. Brought a soul out of Hell for us, once."
"And we get our own souls from Hell."
For the first time since they entered the attic, Phoebe speaks up. "Can you guys please cut it out," she snaps. Cas glances over to see her head in her hands, her fingers gently massaging her temples. "There's a lot of emotion in this little room, and it's hard enough to sort them out without you two breaking out the measuring sticks."
Piper flicks her eyes to the ceiling but sighs. "Fine."
"Too bad she stopped you there. I would have loved to see you try to compete with stopping the apocalypse."
"Anyway-" Paige looks up, sudden interest brightening her face. "You said Death pulled a soul out of Hell for you? Any chance he'd do something like that for this kid, Adam?"
Dean, Cas, and Sam all share a look. It's an interesting idea, Cas decides, and the implications are limitless. What does that mean for Lucifer? How would Adam reach Death to being with? Part of what Dean told Piper is true: Death has done more for the older Winchester than he's done for another human, ever, but if he can be convinced by Dean, it stands to reason that Adam might find the right words as well. He is Dean's brother.
"Because I've searched this book," Paige continues, "and I'm telling you, there is nothing in here about de-angelfying a mortal, or a witch known for casting spells like the one you guys described. So . . ."
"So it all comes back to Adam," Sam finishes for her, and his frown of dismay matches exactly Cas' feeling.
"At least for now."
"I don't . . . Yeah, maybe," Dean concedes after a moment. His eyes narrow almost to slits, and Cas knows he's thinking about the past, about an impossible situation, an impossible decision to make. It's his way, to lay blame on himself when no one else will, and Cas resolves, in that moment, to speak with him the next time they are alone.
"So, we're calling Death, then," Billie asks, pulling Cas from his thoughts She sounds, in his opinion, too eager for this undertaking, because Death - he's never been very patient with being dragged into human affairs, and the Winchesters do call on him a lot. The last time they faced each other, Dean was summoning him to kill an powered-up Castiel and the fact that he had actually been prepared to do so does not make Cas relish the idea of sharing a space with him again.
Piper shrugs, looks to Cas. "What do you think?"
But then he catches Dean watching him, and the the memory of his friend's motionless body shifts jarringly into view. It's Dean's life that's in danger here, so what other option do they even have? "Yes," he says, and if it comes out a little strong, he feels he can hardly be faulted.
Sam shoots him a small smile of gratitude that he returns instinctively. It's strange, he thinks, that he and the younger Winchester should have taken so long to form a close friendship, when Cas' choices have always lead him into the Winchesters' camp. The connection with Dean was always there, a palpable pressure between the two, and tied them together on nights when they were hunting, and on nights when Cas was in heaven, remotely monitoring a motel room where two brothers slept, or laid awake, bickering. So, he should have been close to Sam from the start, because he was close with Dean, and, really, how long had Sam been "The Boy With the Demon Blood" anyway, before that illusion, too, was shattered before his angelic eyes?
It's here now, he reminds himself, and the camaraderie they share when it comes to Dean's ailment feels so natural that a strange, warm feeling travels up his arms, clenches around his stomach, squeezing tight. Having this family has come to mean so much that he can barely remember a time when he ever thought giving up Heaven would be a sacrifice.
Across the room, Billie jumps to her feet, catching everyone's attention.
"What can you tell me about this Death guy," she asks. Her question, he suspects, is directed at the three of them, so he's unsure as to why her gaze is so fastened on Sam. "I'm assuming we're talking about an Upper Level Demon situation, right?"
"Not sure you want him to overhear you calling him a demon," Sam mutters, and Cas privately agrees. "But he's powerful, if that's what you mean."
"Anything else?" She retrieves a small piece of chalk from the stand that holds the Book, and stoops down to draw a large, complex sigil on the floor. It's not one he's seen before, but he knows enough about witches' magic to understand that it's a displacement charm, and suddenly he realizes what she plans to do.
"I'm not sure this is wise," he says, crossing his arms over his chest. "Sam and Dean are familiar with Death, but -" He's not sure it would be polite to finish with I don't think he would like you so he falls silent.
Dean raises his eyebrows. "What's going on?"
Piper sighs, and it's clear that she's struggling between trying to be supportive of her young friend's plan, and concern for her safety. Cas knows that feeling very well. "She wants to project herself to him."
"And by project, you mean . . ."
Billie rolls her eyes as she settles onto the attic floor in the center of her sketch, careful not to smudge the chalk. "Projecting. It's one of my powers: I can send myself through time or distance to wherever I want to go." There's a note of pride in her voice, but it mixes with something else, bitterness, or regret, it's hard for Cas to discern. "So, I figure, instead of summoning the guy, because, you know, some of these guys are all pride, we could just go straight to him."
"You don't think it would be safer to bring him here," Paige questions, even as she closes the Book and steps back. "You know: Halliwell attic, Book of Shadows, four witches, two hunters and an angel?"
"Dean is not actually an angel," Cas feels the need to remind them and he allows a drop of annoyance to fall into his tone. The last thing he needs is for anyone to be under the very mistaken impression that Cas will be training Dean to use his angel powers for their protection. Drawing on the Grace will only shorten the amount of time they have before it takes over completely and his body cannot sustain it anymore.
Sam is the voice of reason. "Look, Billie, no offense, but this isn't going to work," he says gently. His expression is drenched with kindness and understanding. "Even if you could get to Death by using your projection power, you wouldn't know where to find him, or what to say."
For a moment she says nothing and Cas thinks that Sam has, once again, managed to use what Dean calls his "puppy dog eyes" to convince her, but then she shakes her head. "Well, then, I guess I should bring a passenger." She grins up at Sam. "Wanna come?"
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