The Celestial Evolution of Dean Winchester: Chapter Three
Title: The Celestial Evolution of Dean Winchester: Chapter Three
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.
Dean has real reservations with this plan, regardless of how many times Sam assures him it's going to be fine.
It's not that he's having trouble trusting these witches. They seem honest, and definitely not evil, and Piper has evidently dropped whatever frostiness she felt for Cas, which works in their favor. And there's really nothing wrong with Billie either, her optimism rubbing off on Sam, significantly lessening the kid's worry lines.
But there's something about sending his brother off to Death that sets him ill at ease.
"Dean," Sam begins for the umpteenth time. They're standing away from the women, who are talking quietly amongst themselves. "I've met Death before, and he didn't zero in on me then."
"Yeah, I know."
"And Billie's a full-on witch. Super strength, power to freaking turn things into what she wants them to be, along with the teleporting thing. And you have to admit that it's safer than summoning him and seriously pissing him off, or, you know, dying."
"Dean," Cas interjects quietly, and suddenly the ex-angel's heavy, warm hand is resting on his forearm. His heart gives a painful jerk, but he finds that the serenity in the bright blue eyes finds a way to calm him. "I know a lot about these witches. They won't allow anything to happen to Sam - they wouldn't put him in real danger."
Unable to answer, or think, really, with Cas too close yet again, Dean lets out a breath and nods.
"So how, exactly, is this going to work," Sam asks Billie, as the group turns and draws close to the large sigil.
She settles onto the floor, on the far right side of the sigil, and motions for Sam to take a seat directly beside her. "We're going to hold hands." She reaches out and grasps Sam's left hand with her right. "And I'm going to focus on this guy, and it should bring us straight to him."
"Should?"
Billie ignores Dean. "You might want to focus on him too, picture him in your mind." She shrugs. "I don't know, sometimes it helps, sometimes it doesn't. It's not an exact science."
"Be careful." Paige reaches out and squeezes Billie's shoulder. "And try not to piss the guy off."
"Guys, relax." She grins confidently at Sam, and Dean tries not to tell her to let his brother do all the talking. "I'm an old pro now." Then, without another word, her eyes slip closed and they're gone.
Sam's been teleported a time or two in his life, so he immediately shuts his eyes the moment he feels the bottom of the Halliwell attic vanish beneath him. There's an odd sensation of shifting without moving, of being somewhere new, but not there at all, and he can't even imagine how he'll explain it to Dean later. Then finally, after what feels like hours of being suspended in midair, he's suddenly sitting on something solid again.
Billie shakes the hand that he's holding, and he slowly takes a peek, not too ashamed to admit to himself that he's a little terrified. But there's no demon waiting to rip his head off, no indication that he's in Hell or Purgatory. Actually, as far as he can tell, they're in the middle of a big open park. A big, empty open park, but he assumed it would, of course, be creepy in some way. They're looking for Death, after all.
They stand at the same time. "So, what does he look like," Billie asks, dusting her hands off onto her jeans. "I mean, I'm guessing that the first person-shaped thing we see will be the guy, but, you know. Just in case."
Sam scans the area around them, but they're alone as far as he can tell. The park is situated in the middle of a city block, though what city they're in, he has no idea. "He's . . ." Can Death hear them, where he is? Is elderly too offensive a word? "Um, you know. A man. He has a cane, I think."
Billie blinks twice. "Okay, great, thanks."
"Look, this place is empty. We should try the streets. He's probably around here somewhere."
"Okay, sounds like a plan."
They deliberate briefly on which way to go, and Sam wins out because his suggestion of East Blvd, where a line of restaurants stretches out as far as they can see, is supported by actual evidence that Death seems to be eating every time the Winchesters have needed his help. But Billie doesn't argue, anyway, and they start down the road in amiable silence.
The first restaurant is a place called Kristen's Fish and Grille but it's small, and a quick look inside says that the dining area is empty.
"Since we're looking for one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse together, I think I should know a little more about you," Billie says, as they enter a Longhorn Steakhouse. Empty.
Sam's not too sure about the correlation there, but he can't really complain when Billie's eyes are so wide, and she smells like peaches. "What do you want to know?"
She considers him for a second, then says, "Well, tell me this. How do two young, relatively sane guys fall into the business of fighting monsters and demons?" And she would have to jump to the most complicated question first.
"Our father raised Dean and me in it," is the safest way to phrase his answer.
Billie shifts her gaze over to him, and he's torn between wanting to meet it, and reminding himself that regardless of how beautiful and kind she is, it doesn't matter anyway, because they're going to fix Dean up and be on their way, and she'll still be here. After Amelia he promised himself that he would stop leaving a trail of women in his wake, and Billie definitely qualifies.
"That sucks," she finally says, dropping her eyes He's relieved when she doesn't press further.
"What about you?" He can see the next restaurant, something with a green awning two blocks up, so they follow the road in that direction. "Were you always a witch?"
A shadow moves behind her eyes, but it's gone so quickly he's not sure if he saw it to begin with. "Not always. I found out I had powers when I was in college. I met the sisters right after that, actually."
He grins. "I bet that was a surprise."
"You're not kidding. But." She shrugs. "It was fun at first."
Sam thinks he understands. There are negatives, so many that it makes his head hurt just to think of them all (Ellen, Jo, Bobby, John and Mary Winchester, just to start), but he long ago abandoned the idea that there's nothing that makes the job any easier. His closeness with his brother had seemed like a foreign idea at Standford when he had been surrounded by classmates and normalcy close enough to distract him, but now it's here, so strong and alive that it sustains everything Hell and Heaven throw at them. And there's that feeling of redemption with each life they save, and Sam knows he has a lot to atone for.
He opens his mouth to reply, but before he can they're approaching an Italian restaurant (Collazo's Pizza and Italian Eatery) and Billie is skidding to a stop just outside.
"Okay, well, looks like we've found him."
Sam peers through the window of the restaurant, and immediately recognizes the imposing figure he's come to know as one of the Horsemen of the Apocalypse. Death is sitting with his back to the door, nibbling carefully on a slice of pizza, completely at ease, and Sam shoots Billie a grim smile.
She catches on right away. "Oh. He's expecting us." She frowns when Sam nods back, then sets her shoulders and pulls on the door handle. "Okay, well, the element of surprise is overrated anyway," she says, stepping into the restaurant. Sam quickens his step, putting himself between Billie and Death, and when they both slow to a stop in front of Death's table, he looks up at them with an air of supreme disinterest.
"Sam Winchester," he says by way of greeting. "This is getting ridiculous. I have to tell you that I find the number of your favors a little tiresome by now. And Billie Jenkins, another who has evaded me in the past. I am surprised to see the pair of you together. Please. Sit down."
Sam lowers himself into the offered seat, and is relieved to see Billie do the same without comment. "We're sorry to bother you," he begins, hoping Death can see just how much he means that. Despite his confident words to his brother, he had been kinda hoping they would never have to meet with Death again. "We just have a quick question and we'll be out of your hair."
Death glances at Billie, who stutters out a, "Y-yeah, we're, uh, really sorry."
For a moment Death says nothing, and Sam wonders if this is their cue to go, then finally he answers, very slowly, "What do you wish to ask me?"
Sam takes a deep breath. "We were wondering if you know why Adam Milligan is alive."
Death studies them, tilting his head in a way that is so different from Cas that it throws Sam a bit. "I do," he replies.
Billie sits up very straight and her small frame practically vibrates with excitement. "Why?"
"That is between myself and the parties involved."
Which sounds like a blow off, but Sam has been in this game for a while, so he catches the way Death's mouth frowns with disdain, the way he suddenly doesn't seem to be enjoying his meal as much. And truthfully he has no idea what makes him venture such a wild guess, other than the fact that, well, this is what it's like to be a Winchester and it's become such a staple of his life to ask questions such as these: "Does this have anything to do with Lucifer?"
"Perhaps."
Billie narrows angry eyes at Death. "I thought you guys were all supposed to be neutral or whatever, and you're telling us you're in league with the freaking ruler of Hell? That doesn't sound very neutral to me."
The look Death sends her is so deeply offended that it takes all of Sam's self-restraint to avoid scooting a little away from her in his chair. "I am not 'in league' with anyone, Ms. Jenkins. I assure you, I did not resurrect Adam for my own interests."
"So you did resurrect him."
Death shrugs.
"But why?" Sam shakes his head disbelievingly. "You were never really a fan of Lucifer to begin with; what the hell would make you do him a favor? And how does bringing back Adam, who was Michael's vessel, by the way, help him?" He's getting a migraine though, he supposes, it's slightly better than having a panic attack.
Death looks unmoved. "I did not agree to an interview," he says. "It is not among my many responsibilities to make sure that the gaps in your understanding have been filled to your satisfaction. I will answer one more question and then you will depart from me, not to bother me again until - well, until the next Winchester has found himself in Hell, most likely. I will even tell you which question to ask, which is Is Lucifer still in the Cage? And the answer to that question is Yes." His lips twist into a mocking smile. "You're welcome. Now please leave."
Sam stands, acknowledging the dismissal, but Billie doesn't move, fixing a glare on Death that is actually a pretty impressive, considering who she's facing. "Okay," she says, leaning close enough to Death that Sam stiffens. "Look, don't take this the wrong way, but that doesn't really tell us anything that will help Sam's brother - he's turning into an angel, if you were wondering. I mean, okay, great, Satan isn't walking around on earth-"
"Billie," Sam warns softly.
"But just because Adam is working alone-"
Death arches his long, thin eyebrows. "I did not say that Adam is working alone."
"Okay, sorry, aside from the witch that cast the spell on Dean."
"Sam."
Sam tries not to flinch at the impatience in the tone and musters up an expression that he hopes resembles something close to respect, with a dose of somber humility. "Yeah?"
"Please remove this girl from my sight. I am finding her presence exhausting."
Before Death can decide to kill Billie solely on principal, Sam gently grasps her shoulder, and pulls her to her feet. "Thanks for your help."
They're out of the restaurant before he can release the breath he's been unconsciously holding, and Billie immediately pulls away. "I don't understand," she admits, crossing her arms over her chest. "At first I thought he was trying to avoid telling us anything at all, but. How important is it that Lucifer is still trapped?"
"I don't know," Sam admits.
Frankly, he needs a nap himself.
They watch Sam and Billie disappear, and it's quiet for the first few minutes following. Paige and Phoebe excuse themselves to go call their husbands, and Piper follows shortly after, muttering something about checking on dinner, but on her way out of the room, she steals a furtive glance at Cas and Dean that Cas has not been human long enough to decipher.
Her footsteps echo as she descends the stairs, and Cas lets the silence stretch on a little longer. Even with the circumstances before them, it's nice, to stand like this with his friend.
"What is Adam doing?"
Cas tilts his head at Dean, and sees the guilt, the frustration, sketched across his features like a confession. His jaw is clenched, his eyes tight. "Dean," he says softly. "This is not your fault."
Dean lets out a mirthless laugh. "Somehow I don't think Adam agrees with you."
Cas steps closer, and he tries to pretend that he doesn't notice the way his fingers twitch with the desire to smooth out the worry lines in Dean's forehead, or brush the sides of his face until his expression clears. He doesn't stop moving until he's standing right in front of Dean, and he forces him to meet his gaze. "There is nothing you could have done. He was in Lucifer's Cage."
Dean doesn't look away, but shakes his head stubbornly. "I got Death to get Sam's soul out," he says sharply, as though the words are wretched from him through force.
"It was dangerous to ask him for help then, and we both know he would not have done it for you a second time. If Adam had been provided with a choice between you and his mother, it would be you in the Cage right now." There's no answer, and Cas continues gently, "Dean, do you blame me for not returning to the Cage for Adam as I did for Sam?"
"Cas, come on." He seems offended at the very question, and Cas allows himself the warmth that wraps around him yet again. "Of course not. You would have gotten yourself killed."
"Perhaps I should have attempted it, regardless. Certainly his destiny was greater than my own."
"No. Dude, stop talking like this." Dean's voice doesn't change, but he's suddenly staring at Cas with thinly concealed fear, and there is no doubt in Cas' mind that his friend is remembering a conversation from over a year ago, remembering his own strained I'm worried that I might kill myself. And it seems so heartless to twist that knife just to bring a point home, but it doesn't mean he won't.
"Then you stop," he snaps. White-hot fury coils in the pit of his stomach, and he glares daggers at Dean. "Stop blaming yourself for this, stop wishing you had endangered your life yet again to save someone who was beyond your capacity to save. How do you think Sam would handle losing his other brother, how I - I would feel losing you? The three of us are all we have. That's what you told me." He aims to keep the accusation out of his voice but is unsure if he succeeds.
Dean exhales slowly, and when he nods it feels like a small victory. "God, you're obnoxious," he says, the affection so strong in that moment that Cas' anger dies away and he can't hide a rueful smile.
"My apologies."
He wants to say more because there are hundreds of arguments that he could lay out detailing Dean's selflessness, the ways he's saved Cas more times than he can count (and, as a former celestial being, his knowledge of the numbers system is fairly vast). He wants to talk until he runs out of breath, runs out of adjectives, but suddenly all words die in his throat as Dean takes a careful step forward. And Cas may not have had an understanding of personal space when he first began spending time with the Winchesters, but he knows he is not mistaken when he decides that Dean is standing much too close.
But he doesn't back away. The cords that tie them together have always been stronger than Cas can resist so he allows that familiar gravity to pull him in, and then they're standing so close that he feels Dean's chest brush his own on the inhale. He wonders what Dean sees in his expression that makes his green eyes burst to life, something blazing in them that floods Cas with a different kind of heat altogether.
The air in the attic is stifling and when Dean's hand reaches out and brushes fingertips so lightly against the back of Cas' hand, he's certain it's gotten ten degrees warmer.
"Cas."
The sound of the front door slamming shut is loud enough that it jerks them apart and then a young male voice is yelling inaudible things from the bottom floor. The door opens and shuts again before Cas finds the courage to meet Dean's gaze, and he's stunned when he sees no shame or embarrassment reflecting back at him, only wry amusement coupled with what might be annoyance at the interruption. But he's not sure.
Someone begins thundering up the stairs to the attic, and the door is thrown open with the same vengeance as the front door. was It's a young male, around eleven, with blond hair and furious, blue eyes, and if Cas' memory serves him - which it always does - this would be:
"Wyatt Halliwell," Cas greets. He's never met any of Piper's children, for obvious reasons, but he knows enough of the family to know that Wyatt is the oldest son, then Chris, who is a little more than a year younger, and there's a daughter, Melinda, as well.
Wyatt glances at Cas, then at Dean. "You guys innocents," he inquires, and whatever ire he was carrying before fades slightly.
"Yes. I am Castiel, and this is my friend, Dean." He holds out a hand, which the child shakes, before nodding to the chalk outline drawn on the floor. "Dean's brother, Sam, is searching for Death with Billie."
"Oh." Wyatt shrugs. "Okay. Well, I just need the Book anyway." He moves around them and to the Book of Shadows, and begins flipping through the ancient pages with determination. Just as he reaches whatever spell he is looking for, Piper steps inside the attic too, a man approximately her own age with blond hair that perfectly matches the boy's following behind.
She sends an apologetic smile at Dean, who has been watching the entire scene unfold with his eyebrows somewhere up by his hairline, then approaches her son carefully. "Wyatt, let's go to your room. We'd like to talk to you, please."
The walls fly back up around Wyatt, and he shakes his head, refusing to meet his mother's gaze. "Chris is such a tattletale," he complains before pressing his lips together into a tight line. "I really don't want to talk about it."
The man - Leo, he recognizes - shifts eyes to Cas, giving a genuine, warm smile of acknowledgement, then turns back to his son, whose feet are planted defiantly on the ground, and sighs. "All Chris said was that you got into a fight, and Jake's in my Potion Making class. I would have heard that much on my own."
Wyatt lets out a rush of frustrated breath, and looks up at the ceiling. "Nothing. Jake's a jerk. So I hit him."
Piper reaches out, and brushes hair from Wyatt's eyes. "Why don't you just tell us what happened? Preferably before you . . ." She eyes the book. "Try to vanquish him. Probably be overkill." Then she grins self-deprecatingly, and nudges her son with her hip. "Get it? Overkill?"
It works. Wyatt's lips tug reluctantly upwards, and he rolls his eyes. "Mom."
Dean catches Cas' gaze and nods towards the door, a motion Castiel has come to recognize as This is a moment that requires privacy, so we need to leave. Just as he goes to take a step, however, there's a shuffle of movement, and Billie and Sam reappear among their mist.
"Sam." Dean breathes a sigh of relief, then crosses the room to yank his brother up. "Took you long enough," he snaps.
But Sam knows where the frustration is coming from, and doesn't comment on the outburst. "Death resurrected Adam," he says. Out of the corner of his eye, Cas watches Piper and her husband flinch. Apparently Piper has filled him in.
"Wyatt, will you please go get Phoebe and Paige," Piper quietly requests. "They should be in the kitchen."
Wyatt nods and heads for the door without protest, and when her sisters return a minute later, Piper turns back to the new arrivals. "So, what happened?"
Sam and Billie immediately launch into brief recap of their conversation with Death, and with each word Cas feel fresh panic crash down over him. They now have the answer to Adam's escape from the Cage, but why would Death do such a thing? It doesn't make any sense, and if there's one thing that Death has remained through their many run-ins with him, it is rational. And what does Lucifer being in the Cage have to do with their current predicament? And how does the witch that cursed Dean fit into it all?
"So." Dean glances around quickly. "What now?"
Paige sighs. "We could try a round of scrying," she suggests, though her expression gives a clear indication as to how much faith she has in that idea.
"Maybe I could mix some sort of potion," Billie throws out, but Piper is already shaking her head.
"Look," she begins, looking at each of them in turn. "What we really need to do is take a breather. Paige, Phoebe, you both need to go home for a few hours. See your families, get some sleep. The guys can stay here. Dean will still be an angel tomorrow, and I think we've proven over the years that trying to force a solution doesn't work."
"We're not abandoning you," Phoebe answers firmly. "That's not an option."
"I'll stay," Billie volunteers. "Two adult witches, three pint-sized magic users, a brand new angel, and two former angels-"
("I was never technically an angel," Leo interrupts.)
("Dean's not an angel," Cas adds.)
"I think we can handle it."
Phoebe's lips twist into a small smile. "You sure you don't mind," she asks. Cas is pretty sure he detects irony in her tone.
"I'm sure."
"See," Piper says brightly. "Plenty of backup here. We'll be fine."
Paige and Phoebe share similar looks of uncertainty, but ultimately sigh in unison, and say their goodbyes to the group. Paige exits the room first, but Phoebe stays behind, a flicker of an inner debate crossing across her features. "Sam, can you walk me out," she finally asks.
Sam shrugs. "Sure."
Together they walk out of the room, and just before door closes behind them, Cas hears Phoebe's words:
"We need to talk."
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.
Dean has real reservations with this plan, regardless of how many times Sam assures him it's going to be fine.
It's not that he's having trouble trusting these witches. They seem honest, and definitely not evil, and Piper has evidently dropped whatever frostiness she felt for Cas, which works in their favor. And there's really nothing wrong with Billie either, her optimism rubbing off on Sam, significantly lessening the kid's worry lines.
But there's something about sending his brother off to Death that sets him ill at ease.
"Dean," Sam begins for the umpteenth time. They're standing away from the women, who are talking quietly amongst themselves. "I've met Death before, and he didn't zero in on me then."
"Yeah, I know."
"And Billie's a full-on witch. Super strength, power to freaking turn things into what she wants them to be, along with the teleporting thing. And you have to admit that it's safer than summoning him and seriously pissing him off, or, you know, dying."
"Dean," Cas interjects quietly, and suddenly the ex-angel's heavy, warm hand is resting on his forearm. His heart gives a painful jerk, but he finds that the serenity in the bright blue eyes finds a way to calm him. "I know a lot about these witches. They won't allow anything to happen to Sam - they wouldn't put him in real danger."
Unable to answer, or think, really, with Cas too close yet again, Dean lets out a breath and nods.
"So how, exactly, is this going to work," Sam asks Billie, as the group turns and draws close to the large sigil.
She settles onto the floor, on the far right side of the sigil, and motions for Sam to take a seat directly beside her. "We're going to hold hands." She reaches out and grasps Sam's left hand with her right. "And I'm going to focus on this guy, and it should bring us straight to him."
"Should?"
Billie ignores Dean. "You might want to focus on him too, picture him in your mind." She shrugs. "I don't know, sometimes it helps, sometimes it doesn't. It's not an exact science."
"Be careful." Paige reaches out and squeezes Billie's shoulder. "And try not to piss the guy off."
"Guys, relax." She grins confidently at Sam, and Dean tries not to tell her to let his brother do all the talking. "I'm an old pro now." Then, without another word, her eyes slip closed and they're gone.
Sam's been teleported a time or two in his life, so he immediately shuts his eyes the moment he feels the bottom of the Halliwell attic vanish beneath him. There's an odd sensation of shifting without moving, of being somewhere new, but not there at all, and he can't even imagine how he'll explain it to Dean later. Then finally, after what feels like hours of being suspended in midair, he's suddenly sitting on something solid again.
Billie shakes the hand that he's holding, and he slowly takes a peek, not too ashamed to admit to himself that he's a little terrified. But there's no demon waiting to rip his head off, no indication that he's in Hell or Purgatory. Actually, as far as he can tell, they're in the middle of a big open park. A big, empty open park, but he assumed it would, of course, be creepy in some way. They're looking for Death, after all.
They stand at the same time. "So, what does he look like," Billie asks, dusting her hands off onto her jeans. "I mean, I'm guessing that the first person-shaped thing we see will be the guy, but, you know. Just in case."
Sam scans the area around them, but they're alone as far as he can tell. The park is situated in the middle of a city block, though what city they're in, he has no idea. "He's . . ." Can Death hear them, where he is? Is elderly too offensive a word? "Um, you know. A man. He has a cane, I think."
Billie blinks twice. "Okay, great, thanks."
"Look, this place is empty. We should try the streets. He's probably around here somewhere."
"Okay, sounds like a plan."
They deliberate briefly on which way to go, and Sam wins out because his suggestion of East Blvd, where a line of restaurants stretches out as far as they can see, is supported by actual evidence that Death seems to be eating every time the Winchesters have needed his help. But Billie doesn't argue, anyway, and they start down the road in amiable silence.
The first restaurant is a place called Kristen's Fish and Grille but it's small, and a quick look inside says that the dining area is empty.
"Since we're looking for one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse together, I think I should know a little more about you," Billie says, as they enter a Longhorn Steakhouse. Empty.
Sam's not too sure about the correlation there, but he can't really complain when Billie's eyes are so wide, and she smells like peaches. "What do you want to know?"
She considers him for a second, then says, "Well, tell me this. How do two young, relatively sane guys fall into the business of fighting monsters and demons?" And she would have to jump to the most complicated question first.
"Our father raised Dean and me in it," is the safest way to phrase his answer.
Billie shifts her gaze over to him, and he's torn between wanting to meet it, and reminding himself that regardless of how beautiful and kind she is, it doesn't matter anyway, because they're going to fix Dean up and be on their way, and she'll still be here. After Amelia he promised himself that he would stop leaving a trail of women in his wake, and Billie definitely qualifies.
"That sucks," she finally says, dropping her eyes He's relieved when she doesn't press further.
"What about you?" He can see the next restaurant, something with a green awning two blocks up, so they follow the road in that direction. "Were you always a witch?"
A shadow moves behind her eyes, but it's gone so quickly he's not sure if he saw it to begin with. "Not always. I found out I had powers when I was in college. I met the sisters right after that, actually."
He grins. "I bet that was a surprise."
"You're not kidding. But." She shrugs. "It was fun at first."
Sam thinks he understands. There are negatives, so many that it makes his head hurt just to think of them all (Ellen, Jo, Bobby, John and Mary Winchester, just to start), but he long ago abandoned the idea that there's nothing that makes the job any easier. His closeness with his brother had seemed like a foreign idea at Standford when he had been surrounded by classmates and normalcy close enough to distract him, but now it's here, so strong and alive that it sustains everything Hell and Heaven throw at them. And there's that feeling of redemption with each life they save, and Sam knows he has a lot to atone for.
He opens his mouth to reply, but before he can they're approaching an Italian restaurant (Collazo's Pizza and Italian Eatery) and Billie is skidding to a stop just outside.
"Okay, well, looks like we've found him."
Sam peers through the window of the restaurant, and immediately recognizes the imposing figure he's come to know as one of the Horsemen of the Apocalypse. Death is sitting with his back to the door, nibbling carefully on a slice of pizza, completely at ease, and Sam shoots Billie a grim smile.
She catches on right away. "Oh. He's expecting us." She frowns when Sam nods back, then sets her shoulders and pulls on the door handle. "Okay, well, the element of surprise is overrated anyway," she says, stepping into the restaurant. Sam quickens his step, putting himself between Billie and Death, and when they both slow to a stop in front of Death's table, he looks up at them with an air of supreme disinterest.
"Sam Winchester," he says by way of greeting. "This is getting ridiculous. I have to tell you that I find the number of your favors a little tiresome by now. And Billie Jenkins, another who has evaded me in the past. I am surprised to see the pair of you together. Please. Sit down."
Sam lowers himself into the offered seat, and is relieved to see Billie do the same without comment. "We're sorry to bother you," he begins, hoping Death can see just how much he means that. Despite his confident words to his brother, he had been kinda hoping they would never have to meet with Death again. "We just have a quick question and we'll be out of your hair."
Death glances at Billie, who stutters out a, "Y-yeah, we're, uh, really sorry."
For a moment Death says nothing, and Sam wonders if this is their cue to go, then finally he answers, very slowly, "What do you wish to ask me?"
Sam takes a deep breath. "We were wondering if you know why Adam Milligan is alive."
Death studies them, tilting his head in a way that is so different from Cas that it throws Sam a bit. "I do," he replies.
Billie sits up very straight and her small frame practically vibrates with excitement. "Why?"
"That is between myself and the parties involved."
Which sounds like a blow off, but Sam has been in this game for a while, so he catches the way Death's mouth frowns with disdain, the way he suddenly doesn't seem to be enjoying his meal as much. And truthfully he has no idea what makes him venture such a wild guess, other than the fact that, well, this is what it's like to be a Winchester and it's become such a staple of his life to ask questions such as these: "Does this have anything to do with Lucifer?"
"Perhaps."
Billie narrows angry eyes at Death. "I thought you guys were all supposed to be neutral or whatever, and you're telling us you're in league with the freaking ruler of Hell? That doesn't sound very neutral to me."
The look Death sends her is so deeply offended that it takes all of Sam's self-restraint to avoid scooting a little away from her in his chair. "I am not 'in league' with anyone, Ms. Jenkins. I assure you, I did not resurrect Adam for my own interests."
"So you did resurrect him."
Death shrugs.
"But why?" Sam shakes his head disbelievingly. "You were never really a fan of Lucifer to begin with; what the hell would make you do him a favor? And how does bringing back Adam, who was Michael's vessel, by the way, help him?" He's getting a migraine though, he supposes, it's slightly better than having a panic attack.
Death looks unmoved. "I did not agree to an interview," he says. "It is not among my many responsibilities to make sure that the gaps in your understanding have been filled to your satisfaction. I will answer one more question and then you will depart from me, not to bother me again until - well, until the next Winchester has found himself in Hell, most likely. I will even tell you which question to ask, which is Is Lucifer still in the Cage? And the answer to that question is Yes." His lips twist into a mocking smile. "You're welcome. Now please leave."
Sam stands, acknowledging the dismissal, but Billie doesn't move, fixing a glare on Death that is actually a pretty impressive, considering who she's facing. "Okay," she says, leaning close enough to Death that Sam stiffens. "Look, don't take this the wrong way, but that doesn't really tell us anything that will help Sam's brother - he's turning into an angel, if you were wondering. I mean, okay, great, Satan isn't walking around on earth-"
"Billie," Sam warns softly.
"But just because Adam is working alone-"
Death arches his long, thin eyebrows. "I did not say that Adam is working alone."
"Okay, sorry, aside from the witch that cast the spell on Dean."
"Sam."
Sam tries not to flinch at the impatience in the tone and musters up an expression that he hopes resembles something close to respect, with a dose of somber humility. "Yeah?"
"Please remove this girl from my sight. I am finding her presence exhausting."
Before Death can decide to kill Billie solely on principal, Sam gently grasps her shoulder, and pulls her to her feet. "Thanks for your help."
They're out of the restaurant before he can release the breath he's been unconsciously holding, and Billie immediately pulls away. "I don't understand," she admits, crossing her arms over her chest. "At first I thought he was trying to avoid telling us anything at all, but. How important is it that Lucifer is still trapped?"
"I don't know," Sam admits.
Frankly, he needs a nap himself.
They watch Sam and Billie disappear, and it's quiet for the first few minutes following. Paige and Phoebe excuse themselves to go call their husbands, and Piper follows shortly after, muttering something about checking on dinner, but on her way out of the room, she steals a furtive glance at Cas and Dean that Cas has not been human long enough to decipher.
Her footsteps echo as she descends the stairs, and Cas lets the silence stretch on a little longer. Even with the circumstances before them, it's nice, to stand like this with his friend.
"What is Adam doing?"
Cas tilts his head at Dean, and sees the guilt, the frustration, sketched across his features like a confession. His jaw is clenched, his eyes tight. "Dean," he says softly. "This is not your fault."
Dean lets out a mirthless laugh. "Somehow I don't think Adam agrees with you."
Cas steps closer, and he tries to pretend that he doesn't notice the way his fingers twitch with the desire to smooth out the worry lines in Dean's forehead, or brush the sides of his face until his expression clears. He doesn't stop moving until he's standing right in front of Dean, and he forces him to meet his gaze. "There is nothing you could have done. He was in Lucifer's Cage."
Dean doesn't look away, but shakes his head stubbornly. "I got Death to get Sam's soul out," he says sharply, as though the words are wretched from him through force.
"It was dangerous to ask him for help then, and we both know he would not have done it for you a second time. If Adam had been provided with a choice between you and his mother, it would be you in the Cage right now." There's no answer, and Cas continues gently, "Dean, do you blame me for not returning to the Cage for Adam as I did for Sam?"
"Cas, come on." He seems offended at the very question, and Cas allows himself the warmth that wraps around him yet again. "Of course not. You would have gotten yourself killed."
"Perhaps I should have attempted it, regardless. Certainly his destiny was greater than my own."
"No. Dude, stop talking like this." Dean's voice doesn't change, but he's suddenly staring at Cas with thinly concealed fear, and there is no doubt in Cas' mind that his friend is remembering a conversation from over a year ago, remembering his own strained I'm worried that I might kill myself. And it seems so heartless to twist that knife just to bring a point home, but it doesn't mean he won't.
"Then you stop," he snaps. White-hot fury coils in the pit of his stomach, and he glares daggers at Dean. "Stop blaming yourself for this, stop wishing you had endangered your life yet again to save someone who was beyond your capacity to save. How do you think Sam would handle losing his other brother, how I - I would feel losing you? The three of us are all we have. That's what you told me." He aims to keep the accusation out of his voice but is unsure if he succeeds.
Dean exhales slowly, and when he nods it feels like a small victory. "God, you're obnoxious," he says, the affection so strong in that moment that Cas' anger dies away and he can't hide a rueful smile.
"My apologies."
He wants to say more because there are hundreds of arguments that he could lay out detailing Dean's selflessness, the ways he's saved Cas more times than he can count (and, as a former celestial being, his knowledge of the numbers system is fairly vast). He wants to talk until he runs out of breath, runs out of adjectives, but suddenly all words die in his throat as Dean takes a careful step forward. And Cas may not have had an understanding of personal space when he first began spending time with the Winchesters, but he knows he is not mistaken when he decides that Dean is standing much too close.
But he doesn't back away. The cords that tie them together have always been stronger than Cas can resist so he allows that familiar gravity to pull him in, and then they're standing so close that he feels Dean's chest brush his own on the inhale. He wonders what Dean sees in his expression that makes his green eyes burst to life, something blazing in them that floods Cas with a different kind of heat altogether.
The air in the attic is stifling and when Dean's hand reaches out and brushes fingertips so lightly against the back of Cas' hand, he's certain it's gotten ten degrees warmer.
"Cas."
The sound of the front door slamming shut is loud enough that it jerks them apart and then a young male voice is yelling inaudible things from the bottom floor. The door opens and shuts again before Cas finds the courage to meet Dean's gaze, and he's stunned when he sees no shame or embarrassment reflecting back at him, only wry amusement coupled with what might be annoyance at the interruption. But he's not sure.
Someone begins thundering up the stairs to the attic, and the door is thrown open with the same vengeance as the front door. was It's a young male, around eleven, with blond hair and furious, blue eyes, and if Cas' memory serves him - which it always does - this would be:
"Wyatt Halliwell," Cas greets. He's never met any of Piper's children, for obvious reasons, but he knows enough of the family to know that Wyatt is the oldest son, then Chris, who is a little more than a year younger, and there's a daughter, Melinda, as well.
Wyatt glances at Cas, then at Dean. "You guys innocents," he inquires, and whatever ire he was carrying before fades slightly.
"Yes. I am Castiel, and this is my friend, Dean." He holds out a hand, which the child shakes, before nodding to the chalk outline drawn on the floor. "Dean's brother, Sam, is searching for Death with Billie."
"Oh." Wyatt shrugs. "Okay. Well, I just need the Book anyway." He moves around them and to the Book of Shadows, and begins flipping through the ancient pages with determination. Just as he reaches whatever spell he is looking for, Piper steps inside the attic too, a man approximately her own age with blond hair that perfectly matches the boy's following behind.
She sends an apologetic smile at Dean, who has been watching the entire scene unfold with his eyebrows somewhere up by his hairline, then approaches her son carefully. "Wyatt, let's go to your room. We'd like to talk to you, please."
The walls fly back up around Wyatt, and he shakes his head, refusing to meet his mother's gaze. "Chris is such a tattletale," he complains before pressing his lips together into a tight line. "I really don't want to talk about it."
The man - Leo, he recognizes - shifts eyes to Cas, giving a genuine, warm smile of acknowledgement, then turns back to his son, whose feet are planted defiantly on the ground, and sighs. "All Chris said was that you got into a fight, and Jake's in my Potion Making class. I would have heard that much on my own."
Wyatt lets out a rush of frustrated breath, and looks up at the ceiling. "Nothing. Jake's a jerk. So I hit him."
Piper reaches out, and brushes hair from Wyatt's eyes. "Why don't you just tell us what happened? Preferably before you . . ." She eyes the book. "Try to vanquish him. Probably be overkill." Then she grins self-deprecatingly, and nudges her son with her hip. "Get it? Overkill?"
It works. Wyatt's lips tug reluctantly upwards, and he rolls his eyes. "Mom."
Dean catches Cas' gaze and nods towards the door, a motion Castiel has come to recognize as This is a moment that requires privacy, so we need to leave. Just as he goes to take a step, however, there's a shuffle of movement, and Billie and Sam reappear among their mist.
"Sam." Dean breathes a sigh of relief, then crosses the room to yank his brother up. "Took you long enough," he snaps.
But Sam knows where the frustration is coming from, and doesn't comment on the outburst. "Death resurrected Adam," he says. Out of the corner of his eye, Cas watches Piper and her husband flinch. Apparently Piper has filled him in.
"Wyatt, will you please go get Phoebe and Paige," Piper quietly requests. "They should be in the kitchen."
Wyatt nods and heads for the door without protest, and when her sisters return a minute later, Piper turns back to the new arrivals. "So, what happened?"
Sam and Billie immediately launch into brief recap of their conversation with Death, and with each word Cas feel fresh panic crash down over him. They now have the answer to Adam's escape from the Cage, but why would Death do such a thing? It doesn't make any sense, and if there's one thing that Death has remained through their many run-ins with him, it is rational. And what does Lucifer being in the Cage have to do with their current predicament? And how does the witch that cursed Dean fit into it all?
"So." Dean glances around quickly. "What now?"
Paige sighs. "We could try a round of scrying," she suggests, though her expression gives a clear indication as to how much faith she has in that idea.
"Maybe I could mix some sort of potion," Billie throws out, but Piper is already shaking her head.
"Look," she begins, looking at each of them in turn. "What we really need to do is take a breather. Paige, Phoebe, you both need to go home for a few hours. See your families, get some sleep. The guys can stay here. Dean will still be an angel tomorrow, and I think we've proven over the years that trying to force a solution doesn't work."
"We're not abandoning you," Phoebe answers firmly. "That's not an option."
"I'll stay," Billie volunteers. "Two adult witches, three pint-sized magic users, a brand new angel, and two former angels-"
("I was never technically an angel," Leo interrupts.)
("Dean's not an angel," Cas adds.)
"I think we can handle it."
Phoebe's lips twist into a small smile. "You sure you don't mind," she asks. Cas is pretty sure he detects irony in her tone.
"I'm sure."
"See," Piper says brightly. "Plenty of backup here. We'll be fine."
Paige and Phoebe share similar looks of uncertainty, but ultimately sigh in unison, and say their goodbyes to the group. Paige exits the room first, but Phoebe stays behind, a flicker of an inner debate crossing across her features. "Sam, can you walk me out," she finally asks.
Sam shrugs. "Sure."
Together they walk out of the room, and just before door closes behind them, Cas hears Phoebe's words:
"We need to talk."
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