Felix Culpa, 4/5 (Sam/Dean, NC-17)
Title: Felix Culpa (Part 4 of 5)
Rating: NC-17
Pairing/Characters: Sam/Dean, Castiel, Ruby, Uriel, Bela
Disclaimer: Still not mine, sadly.
Wordcount: Approx 50k for the fic as a whole.
Betas: Much love and thanks to my beloved zooey_glass04 for beta-reading, and to the lovely gestaltrose for Ameripicking. <333
Notes: Written during Nano 2008. Set post-4.07 (It's The Great Pumpkin, Sam Winchester), but with some spoilers up to 4.10. Thank you to zooey_glass04 for the title and icon help!
This fic can also be read on the Archive of Our Own.
Summary: People are dying in the town where Dean came back to life, and Dean's never been a big believer in coincidence.
Dean swallowed hard, because he knew the answer, even though he didn't know exactly what it meant. "It's a feather. One of Castiel's feathers."
Previous chapters: Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Sam stared at what was undeniably a feather, albeit one apparently made of shadows, then raised his head to stare at his brother.
Dean was still pale and dark-eyed from what Uriel had done to him earlier that day; he couldn't have gotten more than a couple of hours sleep. But his eyes were clear as he examined the feather, and Sam didn't doubt that he was in control of himself.
"How can you tell?" Sam asked cautiously.
Dean shrugged without looking up. "He showed me his wings once. Or... the shadow of his wings, I guess. I don't really get how it all works. But... they were like this - real and not real."
Sam nodded slowly. "And you're sure it's Castiel's? I mean, I guess other angels probably have wings like that too, right?"
Dean shook his head. "It's Castiel's."
Sam frowned. He didn't want to press the point too hard, but on the other hand, Uriel had tried to kill Dean, and Sam didn't put it past him to try some other, less direct way next. "Are you definitely sure? After what Uriel did today... I don't know, but I guess I wouldn't be taking anything at face value."
"I'm telling you, Sam," Dean said, a note of frustration finally creeping into his voice. "It's Castiel's. I can tell, okay? I don't know how I know for sure, but I do."
"Okay," Sam said, accepting that. "In that case, how did Bela get hold of it?"
"That's what I want to know," Dean muttered. He ran one finger absently along the feather, and there was another flash of light. For an instant, the light was all there was, filling the entire room, blindingly bright; then it subsided and the feather was made of shadows again.
Sam took a deep breath, and another. The light had been... terrifying. Overwhelming. But at the same time... it hadn't felt wrong. It really was an angel feather.
He wanted to reach out and touch the feather himself - an angel feather, god - but he didn't quite dare, not after the way it had flashed. It was one thing for Dean to touch it - he and Castiel had had some kind of connection (Castiel had pulled Dean out of Hell, had touched his soul, and Sam couldn't help but feel jealous of that). Sam wasn't sure he was entitled.
Dean didn't seem to pick up on Sam's mixed emotions, probably because he was still staring at the feather as if he expected it to reveal all its secrets to him if he just watched it closely enough.
"How would Bela have gotten hold of one of his feathers?" Sam asked finally. "Especially now that -" He stopped before he could put it into words. Especially now that he's dead. "She didn't have it with her the other day, did she?"
"No," Dean said with certainty and a slight degree of scorn. "I think I'd have noticed her carrying around a freaking angel feather, Sam."
Sam raised his hands in acceptance. "Okay. Then she must have found it somewhere."
The feather was dark in Dean's hands as he turned it over, examining it again as if he might have overlooked something the first time. Sam couldn't look away.
"Maybe Bela will be able to tell us," Dean said finally.
Sam looked around, but there was still no sign of her. "I think the light did something to her."
Dean nodded. "Yeah. But I think she'll be back. She brought the feather here for a reason."
"You said she was halfway between a vengeful spirit and a demon," Sam reminded him. "You don't think it might have... I don't know. Damaged her?"
Dean looked up and met his eyes. "Yeah. Yeah, I think the feather did something to her. She was trying to say something, did you see? But she couldn't."
"So why would she have kept it, if it was hurting her?" Sam wondered aloud. It didn't make sense. Bela had always seemed to him to put her own interests ahead of anyone else's, and somehow he doubted death and Hell would have changed her that much.
"She must have had a damn good reason," Dean said, echoing his thoughts. "That's why I think she'll be back once she's got herself together again."
Sam watched his brother stare at the feather some more. Dean looked... weirdly intense, and like he was deep in thought. At any other time, Sam would have been teasing him about it, but his brother looked so uncharacteristically serious that it felt wrong.
"I don't get it," Dean muttered finally. Sam was about to ask him what he was talking about, but his brother went on before he could open his mouth. "I mean... I get that the poor dumbass he was in, his vessel or whatever - I get that his body would be - left. But not... not him. Not his wings and shit. It's not like he had a body of his own or whatever."
Sam thought about it, even though it made him feel a bit sick. He wasn't sure how he felt about angels these days - except Uriel: he was now very, very clear on how much he hated him - but still, Castiel had been an angel, and he'd brought Dean back from Hell, and imagining him dead and wondering about the mechanics of it... God.
"And if there was," Dean went on distractedly, still staring at the feather, "wouldn't they have... buried him, or something? The angels wouldn't have just left him lying there, would they? I mean, okay, they can be dicks, but he was their brother. He can't just be..."
Sam winced. "I don't..." Thing was, he wasn't sure. It wasn't so much that he thought Uriel was enough of a bastard to do something like that, it was just that angels weren't human, and he was becoming more and more aware of that. They weren't human, and they didn't think the way humans thought, or care about the things humans did. He didn't know whether they would bury one of their own. And though he didn't really know what happened to angels when they died, he had a feeling they probably just... stopped being. He couldn't imagine an angel becoming a restless spirit because they hadn't been buried.
More to the point, he couldn't imagine Bela bringing them the feather just so they could bury Castiel. Something else was going on.
"I wish she'd hurry the fuck up," Dean said finally. "How long do you think it should take her to... re-form or whatever?"
"How am I supposed to know, man?" Sam demanded. Then a thought struck him. "There is one thing we could try in the meantime, though."
~*~
"I can't believe I let you talk me into this," Dean hissed.
"I didn't hear you coming up with any better ideas," Sam said.
Dean stared down at the Ouija board. He'd had no idea Sam had even kept the thing.
"You're the one who didn't want to just sit around and wait until Bela recovers and comes back," Sam pointed out. "Anyway, she used a Ouija board to communicate with spirits when she was alive. It'll be familiar to her. And it's got to take less energy for her than trying to hold a visible form and speak."
Dean looked at the board glumly. Damn Sam for managing to make a Ouija board sound like a logical plan. It just had such a teenage-sleepover vibe.
"Fine," he said after a moment, and settled down on the other side of the board, facing his brother. "Maybe after this we can braid your stupid hair and have a pillow fight."
Sam grinned at him, slow and heated. "You love my hair."
Dean fought down the flush that warmed through him and didn't let himself look away. Because yeah, okay, he kind of did. That didn't make it any less stupid.
"Okay, fine, let's do this," he said, looking down at Castiel's feather to take his mind off the urge to lean over and kiss Sam. He knew damn well things would spiral out of control if he did, and right now he needed to find out what the fuck was going on. They couldn't afford to get sidetracked.
Sam put his fingers on the pointer, businesslike again, and Dean followed suit, swallowing down the desire to make another smartass comment.
"Bela?" Sam said. "Bela, are you here?"
Silence. The pointer didn't move.
Sam looked across at Dean. "Maybe you should try. She, uh, might not like me too much right now, after... you know."
Dean noted the way his brother glanced away at that last part, and reminded himself to raise the issue at some point. He'd wanted to talk to Sam again about using his powers, after his brother had used them on him, but with everything else that had happened, he'd never got round to it. Or maybe he'd been putting that talk off, if he was honest. Judging by the tone of Sam's voice, though, he couldn't afford to do that for too much longer.
"Dean?" Sam said hesitantly.
"Yeah," Dean said. "Bela? You around?"
They waited, but there was still nothing.
"Look," Dean tried again. "I know you had something to tell us. And I know you're not going to let something like a freaking feather take you out for long."
He and Sam looked at each other and waited.
"This is a stupid idea," Dean muttered. "Bela, I don't know what the fuck you saw in these things. I mean, seriously, Ouija boards? There's got to be less embarrassing ways of communicating with spirits than that. How did you not cringe every time?"
He was mostly just ranting, and was caught off-guard when the pointer slowly shuddered into motion. STUPID, it spelled out.
Sam grinned. "Ouija boards? Or him?"
The pointer moved to the letter D and hovered there, and Dean scowled as his brother laughed.
"Bela, what the fuck is going on?" he demanded. "Where did you get the feather?"
CASTIEL, the pointer spelled out.
"I know it's his," Dean said sharply. "Where did you find it?"
The pointer shuddered for a moment, then started spelling out letters again. TRAPPED.
"You're trapped?" Sam asked, frowning. "Trapped here? But..."
The pointer shot across to the letter C.
Dean stared at the board without seeing it. What...?
"What do you mean, he's trapped?" he demanded. "He's an angel, it's not like he can wind up as a ghost or whatever."
The pointer moved across to 'NO', then began shooting between letters again, almost too fast for Dean to track.
NOT DEAD, it spelled out.
Dean stared at it. He could hear his heart speeding up, a faint roaring in his ears. Because he knew what she meant, and that wasn't possible. It wasn't.
"Bela," Sam said into the silence, his voice awkward. "Are you saying - are you really saying Castiel's still alive?"
YES, the pointer said.
Dean felt Sam's eyes shoot up to fasten on his face, but he couldn't look up or say anything or even think quite yet.
"Why should we believe you?" Sam asked finally. "Uriel said he was dead -"
"Lost," Dean said quietly, not realizing he was going to speak until he heard the words coming out of his mouth. "Uriel said they'd lost him."
Sam stared at him. "You think..."
Dean shrugged with a carelessness he was far from feeling. "Would you put it past him?"
Sam's mouth snapped shut and he nodded in unhappy agreement.
"Say I believe you," Dean said finally. He was still a long way from believing it, but he wasn't ruling it out entirely, either. "Did he give you the feather?"
NO, the pointer said. Then, more slowly, LOST IT. FIGHT.
Dean narrowed his eyes. "And you just... what? Decided to bring it to us out of the goodness of your heart? Somehow I'm not buying it."
The pointer shuddered for a moment, before finally spelling out, PAY MY DEBTS.
Sam was frowning. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"I don't know," Dean said. Except he was remembering the flashes of memory he'd seen when Bela was possessing him, when she'd clung to his essence to try to stop Sam from exorcising her back to Hell. Remembering her memory of unbearably white light, and the way the dark chains had vanished as the light passed over her. Maybe he did know, after all.
"Where?" he asked finally. "You said he was trapped. Where?"
The pointer spelled out CHICAGO and fell still.
"Fine," Dean said, and took his fingers off the pointer. He picked up the feather again, ignoring the thrum of energy he could feel coursing through it. "Fine. Chicago. Why the fuck not."
Sam was watching him. "You believe her?"
Dean shook his head, not really in negation. "I don't know. But I figure it's not exactly like we've got anywhere else we need to be right now. I don't think Uriel's about to come knocking for our help any time soon. And we haven't been to Chicago in a while."
Since their encounter with Meg - or, no, the demon that had been possessing Meg, Dean corrected himself, a distinction he'd been forcing himself to make since the raising of the Witnesses. They hadn't exactly been eager to hurry back there after that one.
He wasn't sure he believed Bela, but Castiel had pulled him out of Hell. If there was a chance he could be trapped now, Dean couldn't help but feel he owed it to the angel to check it out.
~*~
Sam leaned his head against the window of the Impala and tried to go back to sleep. He wasn't surprised that Dean had wanted to set off immediately, but he still wasn't sure it had been such a good idea. He was tired and hadn't had nearly enough sleep, and Dean was still pale from what Uriel had tried earlier. Sam hadn't wanted his brother to drive, but Dean had glared at him so balefully when he'd tried to argue the point that he'd conceded defeat.
"We'll stop in a few hours, okay?" Dean said. "I just didn't really want to hang around back there any longer than necessary."
His brother had a point, Sam admitted silently. Getting further away from the last place they'd seen Uriel was probably a smart move. Not that he thought it would make any real difference in the end: if Uriel wanted to find them, he would. But he was pretty sure that hadn't been Dean's only motivation. That was okay, though. Sam could understand it.
"It's fine," he said, hauling himself upright. He guessed it was better to stay awake until they stopped, if Dean wasn't planning to drive right through to morning. With his brother still looking that exhausted, it was probably safer to talk and keep each other awake.
Dean shot a look across at him, but seemed to accept it. "You think Bela's following us?"
Sam shrugged. "She knows where we're going. And she managed to track us to Marietta. I'm guessing she'll find us in Chicago. Maybe she'll have her strength back by then."
Dean nodded. "I guess you're right. If she's telling the truth, we'll need her to show us where he is."
Sam sighed. "And if she's lying?"
Dean's hands tightened around the steering wheel, but he didn't look away from the road. "Then we'll deal with it. And I guess we'll get another shot at Lilith."
Sam winced.
"I don't think she'd pull something like this for Lilith, though," Dean added after a moment. "Bela hates the bitch. And okay, she's not exactly the trustworthy kind, but I don't think she'd do something like that. It's not like Lilith's got the same hold over her that she used to."
Sam nodded. "I hope you're right." More quietly, he added, "Not that I don't want Lilith dead, but I don't think we're ready yet to take her on again."
Dean looked across at him before turning back to the road. "Yeah. Yeah, I'd kinda like to put off that reunion for a while myself."
Sam turned to look at him this time. There was something in his brother's voice, and Sam wanted to ask if Dean had seen Lilith in Hell, what she'd done to him, but Dean's face was closed off, and Sam knew pushing his brother when he was wearing that expression only ever made things worse. He stayed quiet instead.
"So," Dean said finally. His voice was almost light-hearted, but of the forced kind that made Sam instinctively wince, even before he knew what was coming next. "You pulled the 'look ma, no hands' kind of exorcism on me back there."
Sam took a deep breath and held it. He didn't know why he'd been bothering to hope that Dean wouldn't raise that subject. "Don't hold your breath for an apology. She was going to cut off your fingers, Dean, she was going to kill you -"
"She'd changed her mind on that score by the time you got there," Dean said lightly. "But even if she hadn't -"
"Look, there wasn't another option," Sam said. He could hear the angry tone creeping into his voice, but - god. He hated remembering that moment, hated this entire conversation. "She already had the knife against your hand. There wasn't time to try to disarm you and tie you up for a proper exorcism. And if I'd used the knife, you'd have - what the fuck is it you think I should have done instead, Dean?"
Dean groaned and wrenched the car over to the side of the road, pulling off and turning to look at Sam seriously. Sam fought the urge to climb out and just get as far away as he could.
"Sam," Dean said. "I don't know what's up with your freaky mojo, but - look, you know what the angels said -"
"Oh, I know what the angels said," Sam said bitterly. "Like the angel that tried to kill you this afternoon? Yeah, I'm really sold on their opinion of right and wrong."
Dean shook his head. "Yeah, okay. So Uriel's an ass, not exactly a newsflash. But - Sam, a demon gave you those... powers. And that scares the fuck out of me."
Sam gazed out of the window and tried not to let it hurt. "I know."
"But you keep on using them," Dean said.
Sam turned his head. "I just told you, there was no -"
"No other option, yeah, I know," Dean cut him off. He was smiling, but it looked painful. "And Samhain - you had no other option there, either, huh?"
"You were there," Sam said. "You saw how -"
Dean shook his head. "You remember when Dad died?"
The sudden shift caught Sam off-balance. "What?"
"I kind of lost it," Dean admitted. Though a little rough, his tone was far more even than Sam had ever heard him use when talking about their dad's death. It wasn't a subject Dean ever raised voluntarily. Sam wasn't sure how he was meant to react.
"Everything was... fucked up," Dean said. He was staring out the front windshield, not looking at Sam. "I wanted to just kill everything. You remember the vampires we hunted."
Sam wasn't likely to forget any time soon. He'd been terrified back then, aware his brother was slipping and not knowing how to bring him back. He'd been so scared for Dean, and even the memory made him want to reach out, press a hand to the back of Dean's neck.
"I was just killing," Dean said again. "It seemed simple enough. If something was supernatural, then I killed it, and I didn't think too much about it."
"You didn't kill Lenore," Sam said, because he had to say something.
Dean glanced across at him for a second before looking away. "Yeah, well. You got through to me eventually. I was just a bit slow on the uptake."
Sam sighed. "So what you're saying is I'm being slow on the uptake now?"
"No," Dean said, with a vehemence that surprised him. "I'm saying I wasn't thinking, Sam. Something was supernatural, so it was my enemy, so I killed it. Other options didn't even occur to me - like, hey, maybe these vampires don't actually kill people, or hey, maybe just threatening these bastards would be enough, I might not need to kill them. Killing was what I did. It was the first thing I thought of."
Sam watched his brother and waited, trying not to anticipate what Dean might say next. He wasn't sure he wanted to know.
"I don't want you to go that way," Dean said finally, and turned to look at him, his eyes hard. "Sometimes we need to do things that are fucked up. But sometimes we don't. And you say I didn't have any option, Sam, but how hard did you really look for one? Or did you just go for the one that seemed easiest?"
Sam looked away, unable to hold his brother's gaze. He knew what Dean was trying to say.
"That freaky mind-mojo of yours scares the shit out of me," Dean said again. "Because a demon gave it to you, and like fuck was he trying to help out. Because an angel threatened to goddamn kill you if you kept using it. But yeah, if it's the only way for you to survive - fuck it. That's what matters, right? Believe me, I'm down with that." His gaze became even more intent, but Sam still couldn't look at him. "But don't make the same mistake I did, Sammy. Don't let it become your first instinct, the easiest option. It's not an easy option. And it's too dangerous for you to go around doing that kind of thing like it's nothing."
Sam nodded jerkily and took a careful breath. "I'm still not sorry." He wasn't, not for this one. He still didn't think there would have been time to disarm Dean before Bela had hurt him. Maybe she hadn't been planning to at that point, but Sam hadn't known that. He hadn't been about to risk it.
That didn't mean he didn't hear what his brother was saying. And he got it, he really did. It was...
"I'll try," he added, and forced himself to meet Dean's gaze at last.
Dean studied him for a moment, then nodded as if satisfied and started the car again, pulling back onto the road.
Sam waited five miles before he finally asked, "What was it like?"
Dean didn't look at him. "What was what like?"
"When I was trying to exorcise you," Sam said. He was weirdly nervous, bracing himself for Dean's answer. "What did it feel like?"
Dean was watching the road really intently now, and his knuckles were white around the wheel again. "What do you think?"
Sam imagined darkness, a tightening vise of pressure, the sick stain of something demonic. He wished he hadn't asked.
"Light," Dean said abruptly, his grip on the wheel suddenly relaxing. "It was like light. Passing through me."
Sam stared at him, long enough to convince himself Dean was telling the truth, and then looked away.
Light, he thought. Huh.
~*~
Being in Chicago wasn't the most comfortable feeling. It was made worse by the fact that they didn't have the first clue what they were looking for. Eventually they just checked into a motel - not the one where they'd stayed the last time they'd been in Chicago, or anywhere near it - and tried to figure out what to do next.
"Maybe we should try summoning Bela," Sam suggested finally. "Or see if she'll respond to the Ouija board again."
Dean shot him an 'are you for real?' look. Sam ignored it as best he could, because it had worked, damnit, no matter what Dean thought of it.
"It's either that or start researching," Sam said. "If Castiel told you he was going to protect a Seal, then there must be one around here. Maybe we could go to the library, try to track it down..."
Dean groaned and flopped down on the nearest bed, staring up at the ceiling with an expression of tragic despair. "Fine, fine, we'll do the goddamn Ouija board again if it means that much to you."
Sam rolled his eyes, then walked over and kissed Dean into a more cooperative mood.
It didn't take him long to set up the Ouija board. He considered the table for a moment, but decided that messing with Dean by putting it on the floor outweighed his own comfort. There was something about the sight of Dean sitting cross-legged on the floor, martyred expression on his face, that cracked him up every time.
"You really think she might be here already?" Dean asked, settling down on the floor opposite him. "It's a long way from Marietta, and it's not like she could drive." He paused. "At least, I don't think so."
Sam wondered for a moment whether Bela would possess some random person just to drive to Chicago, then sighed. There was no way to know, and no way to stop it now. "I don't know," he said. "If she's part-demon, she might be able to just jump here. I guess we'll see." He placed his fingers on the planchette, and narrowed his eyes at his brother until Dean did the same thing.
Dean sighed, but spoke up without Sam having to prompt him this time. "Bela? You there?"
"Well well well," Bela said, walking through the wall. "Isn't this cute."
Dean drew his fingers back from the planchette as if they'd been burned, and shot a glare in Sam's direction. Sam ignored him, focusing on Bela instead.
He hadn't caught more than a glimpse of her when she'd stopped possessing Dean's body, back in Pontiac - he'd been too caught up in using his powers, and her form had collapsed into smoke too quickly for him to recognize her. She looked a lot like the Bela he remembered, her hair falling down past her shoulders, her eyes sharp and mocking, her mouth twisted into a smirk. But something in the way she held herself, the way she moved, betrayed all too clearly that she was no longer alive. No longer human.
"Did you want to have a tea party?" she asked, mocking. "I could have brought cake if I'd known."
"You're the one who used to 'consult the spirits' all the time," Dean said.
"I at least knew how to use the board as a tool," Bela said sharply. "Rather than just messing around like a couple of schoolkids."
Dean shot a glance at Sam, half 'what a bitch', half 'told you so'. Sam shook his head and got up, sitting down at the table instead. Dean joined him.
"It's nice to see you again, Sam Winchester," Bela said, eyes intent on him. "Dean and I got the chance to... catch up the other day, but I didn't really get to stick around and find out more about what you've been up to. I've heard a lot, though."
Sam knew better than to let her needle him. Funny how Bela still hadn't changed in a lot of ways. "Tell us about the feather, Bela."
Bela raised an eyebrow. "Straight down to business? That could hurt a girl's feelings, Sam." She smiled. "But I've never been just any girl. Fine. I already told you most of it."
"It's Castiel's," Dean said. "Where did you get it?"
"I told you already," Bela said. "He's not dead, Dean."
Sam didn't trust Bela; never had when she was alive, and didn't now, either, when she'd possessed his brother and tried to kill him just a day or two earlier. He wasn't that stupid. But something about the way she said it rang true, and Sam began to think she might not be lying.
He saw a shift in the way Dean was holding himself, too subtle for anyone else to pick up on, and knew that his brother thought so too.
"You said he's trapped," Dean said. "Where? How?"
"Not too far from here," Bela said. "As for how... Lilith got the better of him, I'm afraid."
Sam felt his heart-rate pick up at the sound of the name. "Lilith's here?"
Bela looked at him, then shook her head. "Sorry, Sam. Believe me, I want her just as much as you do. But she left town after she trapped the angel. I haven't had a chance to pick up her trail again."
"Yeah, what's up with that?" Dean asked. He was leaning back in his seat, eyeing Bela intently but with no real hostility. "I thought killing her was all you gave a damn about now. What are you doing chasing around the country bringing us angel feathers?"
"I told you, I pay my debts," Bela said. She smiled at him, sharp-edged. "The one time in my life it seemed I was getting something for nothing, it turned out I'd booked myself a one-way ticket downstairs. I've made a point of making sure I don't wind up in that kind of situation again."
"What debt?" Sam asked. Because okay, he could understand that motivation, but still...
"To Dean, for helping me when you tried to exorcise me, for one thing," Bela said. "I thought he might want to know his angel wasn't dead."
Sam glanced across at his brother, but Bela wasn't done. "And to the angel. I don't suppose he meant to, but - the light..."
Sam frowned, but Dean seemed to be following. "His light broke your chains. He set you free."
"Yes," Bela said. She was looking at Dean, her gaze very intent. "It's partly because of him that I'm here, that I escaped from Below. And whether he meant to do it or not, that's a debt I need to repay."
It was hard to hear them talking about Hell so... not casually, never that, but with such understated familiarity, the way neither of them had to describe anything, the way they talked about chains as if that was nothing. It freaked Sam out a bit, but he kept quiet and watched them both.
"Okay," Dean said finally. "Say I'm buying all this. He seriously gave you his feather and told you to come let us know he was trapped? Because..."
"Oh, no," Bela told them. She laughed. "God, no. I don't think he'd have wanted me to do that at all. I didn't exactly ask his permission."
Sam stared at her. "You stole one of his feathers?" Was that even possible? Okay, Sam had only met the angel once, and maybe not under the best of circumstances, but he couldn't imagine any angel just standing there and letting someone pluck one of their feathers. Just... no.
Bela rolled her eyes, the movement a little jerky, like it took thought to move her form that way now. "I've no real desire to be tossed back Below, Sam, whatever you might think." She looked from him to Dean. "He was hurt in the fight, lost a few feathers. I grabbed one from the floor."
"Hurt?" Dean demanded. "How bad?"
"How am I supposed to know?" Bela said, sounding suddenly bored. "He's an angel. I grabbed a feather, brought it to you, told you he's still alive and trapped - as far as I'm concerned, I've paid my debt in full."
She turned as if she was planning to walk out through the same wall she entered by.
"Wait," Sam said firmly. "You're not done yet. Where is he? Where did Lilith trap him?"
Bela paused and turned back. "I'll tell you. If you give me something I want in return."
"Oh, so much for repaying your debt," Dean muttered sarcastically.
"I told you, I've already repaid it," Bela said. "If you want me to actually take you right there, that's dangerous, and there's a price."
"What price?" Sam asked. He felt oddly more inclined to believe her when she was making demands; that was the Bela he was familiar with. If she was going to demand something in exchange, that meant she might actually have something to offer them.
Bela focused on him. "You almost sent me back to Hell the other day. I want you to promise that you won't. Not now, not ever."
Sam took a deep breath. "What?"
"You heard me," Bela said, her expression very serious. "I don't want to go back down there. I can't go back there. I want you to promise you won't suddenly decide it's where I belong."
Sam saw Dean straighten out of the corner of his eye, and it was that more than anything else that made him say, "Okay. On one condition. If you... go darker, become a demon, start hurting people - that's it. I'll do what I need to. Because then it will be where you belong. If you stay like this... we won't have a problem."
Bela kept her eyes fixed on his face, then slowly nodded. "Good enough."
"Awesome, everyone's happy, now tell us where the angel is," Dean said.
The corner of Bela's mouth quirked up. "I think it would work much better to show you."
And before Sam had figured out what that smile meant, she had stepped forward and into Dean.
~*~
Is this seriously necessary? Dean grumbled in his head. Because I've got to tell you, I don't think this was the best way to convince Sam he shouldn't be exorcising you any time soon.
Bela laughed at him, flexing his hands around the steering wheel, and he could feel her enjoyment of even that much physical sensation.
Necessary? No, she said. Fun? Definitely.
"Dean?" Sam said, his voice tense.
"It's fine, Sammy," Dean reassured him again, for the tenth time in the ten minutes since Bela had wandered back into his body. She wasn't controlling him or anything this time, not really; mostly she just seemed to be along for the ride. Dean had always known he was irresistible.
"I don't like this," Sam said.
"It's okay," Dean said again. "At least this way we don't have to worry about finding the place. And it's probably the easiest way for her to come along."
He wasn't entirely sure that last part was true, though he hoped it would help Sam deal with it. He suspected that Bela's twisted idea of fun really was the main reason she'd decided to do things this way. He remembered all the wigs and disguises she'd used back when she was alive, transforming herself from one person into another, over and over. She probably loved being able to actually possess different people and slip inside them. Like a whole-body disguise or something.
Like you're any different, with your fake IDs and pseudonyms? Bela needled him.
Dean didn't really have a comeback for that one, because he'd always thought the fake IDs were pretty damn cool, even if Sam had never truly appreciated them the same way.
So you're just flitting from one person to the next now? Dean asked. Like changing your clothes, or your wig?
Bela was silent for a moment. No.
The pause drew out long enough for him to realize something was wrong, even though her presence inside him wasn't strong enough for him to catch more than a faint echo of her emotions.
Possessing people... Bela said finally. I thought at first it would be like that, but they always feel - violated. And I can't put them through that. I can't.
Dean didn't really know what to say to that.
So I've been sticking to bastards who deserve it, Bela added, her voice forcibly brightening.
And me, Dean reminded her.
Bela laughed at him, and the pain of her silence shattered completely. Yes, well. You know what's going on, and who I am.
Dean sighed at her. Just so long as this doesn't become a habit.
"Dean?" Sam said again.
"Sorry," Dean said, looking across at his brother. "It's kind of distracting. But I'm okay, really."
Sam didn't look happy. "Maybe we should make her get out of you, man. Seriously."
"It can't be that much further," Dean said reassuringly. Is it?
Another five minutes, Bela told him. We need to take a left up here - can I?
Knock yourself out, Dean said. Though not literally, at least not while you're inside me, because you'd probably take me with you.
"She says we're almost there, just another few minutes," he said aloud to Sam, trying not to be weirded out as his hands moved without his input, signaling and then turning the steering wheel.
Having fun? he asked.
It's nice to feel again, Bela sent back, giving him back control over his arms. You can probably remember what that's like. Plus, watching Sam trying not to be jealous is hilarious.
Yeah, that was the Bela Dean knew, all right, messing with other people's heads just for the fun of it.
She didn't bother telling him where to stop the car, just took over his body again to guide the Impala into an empty parking lot and shut down the engine.
"I'm not coming inside," she said, commandeering his voice to speak to Sam too. "It's the abandoned warehouse on the left. Second floor. There are protections, so be careful. I know it goes against the grain for you two, but try not to rush into anything without knowing exactly what you're doing, just this once?"
Why aren't you coming in? Dean demanded to know.
Because I'm not an idiot, she said bluntly. Our deal was that I'd show you where to go, nothing more. Lilith's been here, angels have been here... if you think I'm stupid enough to risk getting caught in the middle, then you don't know me very well.
You don't change, Bela, Dean said.
Oh, I do, Bela replied, a dark undercurrent in her voice before it lightened again. But not that much.
"Good luck, boys," she said, commandeering Dean's voice again, and then she slipped out of him, vanishing in a cloud of smoke before either of them could ask anything else.
Sam leaned over at once, gripping Dean's shoulder, his other hand pressed against Dean's face. "You okay?"
"Fine," Dean told him, but held still and let Sam look his fill until he was satisfied. "So she wanted to drive my car. Can't blame her for that."
Sam rolled his eyes and released him. "Did she tell you anything else about what to expect in there?"
"Not really," Dean said, but filled his brother in on her last few comments.
"I'm surprised she didn't want to hang around and enjoy the fun," Sam said with a trace of bitterness.
"You know Bela," Dean said with a shrug. "C'mon, let's do this."
~*~
The abandoned warehouse only reminded Dean a little bit of the one where they'd run up against the demon possessing Meg. This one was dark and quiet too, but the atmosphere was different. The other warehouse had had an air of tension, like something had been about to happen at any moment. This warehouse just felt... still. Like everything was all over.
Dean didn't like it much better.
The EMF meter went crazy the second they got inside, no matter which direction they turned, and Dean gave up and switched it off, because it was more distraction than help.
Despite what Bela had said, they checked out the ground floor first, just to be on the safe side. There was nothing alive there, nothing lying in wait, but Dean could tell at once that something had gone down there. They'd found sulfur and drops of blood, and strange scorch marks on the floor. He wasn't sure he wanted to know what the second floor would look like.
It was just as bad as he'd expected. There weren't so much drops of blood as pools of it, soaked into the floorboards, staining the dusty wood. The place seemed darker, despite the light filtering through the cracked and dirty windows. It was the shadows that were the creepiest, though: shadows where there shouldn't have been any, unnatural and unmoving.
He and Sam looked at each other, and began to work their way methodically through the small offices off the stairwell, all of them abandoned and empty. Dean had a feeling that whatever they were looking for would be in the large main area which, if the second floor was laid out like the one below, would be behind the last door.
He and Sam took up positions on either side of the door, holding each other's gaze instead of counting out loud. Then Sam carefully opened the door and they burst in together.
It was a wide-open space, stretching out the remaining length of the building, the high ceiling adding to the feeling of space. The floor was blackened, seemingly scorched, right from the door they'd just come through to the far side of the room, except for a wide circle in the center, where the floor was suddenly unmarked.
Castiel was standing in the middle of the circle, looking down at the ground.
He's alive, Dean thought numbly. Even after what Bela had said, he hadn't truly believed it. But Castiel was alive.
He slowly lowered his gun and walked forward, treading cautiously on the scorched floorboards, but they held his weight. Sam moved with him, looking around for anything unexpected.
Castiel looked up as they approached, meeting Dean's eyes with the same intent gaze that had become so familiar. Dean opened his mouth, but the angel spoke before he could say anything.
"You cannot come any closer."
Dean eyed him sharply, drawing up short, then looked down at the floor. He and Sam were only a few feet away from where the scorched ground gave way to the circle of unmarked floorboards.
Dean looked back up at Castiel, who was still studying him expressionlessly. "I think this is the part where you're supposed to make a joke about how rumors of your demise were greatly exaggerated," he said. Dean could hear the edge in his own voice, but damnit, he'd thought the angel was dead.
Castiel looked away, the movement deliberate. "On the contrary. They were not exaggerated by much. You should not have come here."
"What do you mean?" Sam asked before Dean could reply. Dean could tell just from his brother's tone that he was frowning. "Are you injured?"
"No," the angel said, turning his gaze on Sam. "Not significantly."
"Okay, what the fuck's going on?" Dean demanded, losing patience. "Why did Uriel tell us you were dead? What are you doing here?"
He took a step forward, but Castiel's gaze made him look down at the floor and stop again.
"You cannot come any closer," Castiel repeated, his voice quiet but very firm.
"Why?" Dean demanded.
"Because if you do," Castiel said, "the Seal will be broken."
~*~
Sam stared at the angel, then took a step forward to touch Dean's arm carefully and draw him back. Dean obeyed without looking away from Castiel.
"She was telling the truth: you're trapped," Sam said aloud, trying to put the pieces together.
"Yes," the angel said.
Dean was shaking his head slowly. "What happened?"
Castiel looked away. "There was a battle here. We sought to protect the Seal from Lilith. We held her off, but she is very powerful. She did not manage to break the Seal, but she did succeed in trapping me inside its protections."
"You want to spell that out for me in plain English?" Dean said roughly, and Sam could read the fear behind his brother's harsh tone, fear that he understood what Castiel was saying all too well.
"It means that if I leave this place, the Seal will break," Castiel said quietly.
Sam swallowed hard. "There's got to be a way. I mean - to free you. Without breaking the Seal."
"No," Castiel said, with quiet certainty.
"Hey, screw that," Dean said abruptly. "You're always telling me you're not omniscient. So don't try to tell me now that you know for sure there's no way to do it."
Castiel's lips twitched into a near-smile as he met Dean's gaze. "Very well, then. To my knowledge, and that of my brothers, there is no way it can be done."
"Where's Lilith now?" Sam asked. It was only a few days since Uriel had told them about Castiel. If there was a chance Lilith was still nearby... Sam wanted her dead so badly he could taste it.
"She is gone," Castiel said, his eyes sharp enough that Sam was forced to look away.
Dean broke in before Sam could press the point. "Why didn't she break the Seal?"
"She may not have intended to trap me here," Castiel said. "It has the advantage that I'm now well-placed to defend the Seal. She significantly weakened the protections on it, but I can make it difficult for her to open the Seal entirely."
"But you can't leave," Dean pointed out.
"That is what Uriel meant when he told you I was lost," Castiel said. His voice was inhumanly calm. "I can no longer play a part elsewhere."
"He should have done something," Dean said. "There must have been something another angel could have done."
Castiel said, "All things happen for a reason, Dean."
"Bullshit," Dean said immediately. Sam winced. It was incomprehensible to him that Dean still refused so adamantly to believe in God, even after being raised from Hell by an angel. The way he insisted on arguing with and provoking angels at every turn scared the shit out of Sam.
"What happens now?" he intervened before Dean could say anything else.
"I remain here and protect the Seal to the best of my ability," Castiel said calmly. "If Lilith returns, I may be able to hold her off. You two will be needed elsewhere; Uriel will guide you now in my place."
Dean snorted at that. "Yeah, I doubt it. We're not his favorite people."
Castiel paused. "Uriel does not have favorites. He is not... close to humanity. But you are needed, and Uriel recognizes that."
"He tried to kill Dean yesterday," Sam said flatly.
Castiel looked at Dean. "He did not succeed." There was the faintest note of a question in there, Sam thought.
"No," Dean said. "Not for lack of trying, though. But whatever, if someone needs us, they can come and find us. Until then, we're going to work on getting you out of here."
Castiel frowned slightly. "I told you, it can't be done."
"No, you said you didn't know how it could be done," Dean corrected him. "There's got to be a way."
"Yeah, we'll find something," Sam agreed, with more confidence than he actually felt. But Castiel had given him back his brother, had raised Dean out of Hell, so trying to find a way to free the angel was the very least Sam owed.
"There you go," Dean said, as if that settled everything. "Anything we can bring you in the meantime? Food, blankets, latest issue of Busty Asian Beauties?"
Sam elbowed him sharply in the ribs.
"Thank you, no," Castiel replied seriously. "I do not require anything, and there is too great a risk that the Seal would be broken if you tried to pass anything through the protections."
"What can you tell us about the Seal?" Sam asked hastily, seizing the opportunity to steer the conversation away from the thought of bringing the angel porn. Jesus, Dean was shameless.
Castiel looked at him. "Nothing. It is not something with which you should concern yourselves. Do not try to interfere."
"We're not going to just leave you here and forget about you," Dean said, and Sam could hear the anger underlying his brother's voice.
"We are fighting a war," Castiel said. "Such things happen in war, and the others must continue."
"If someone dies, yeah," Dean said. "But you don't leave anyone behind. Or maybe that's a human thing."
"I'm not human," Castiel reminded him very seriously, almost as if Dean might have forgotten.
"No, but we are," Dean told him. "Let's go research, Sammy."
Chapter Five
Rating: NC-17
Pairing/Characters: Sam/Dean, Castiel, Ruby, Uriel, Bela
Disclaimer: Still not mine, sadly.
Wordcount: Approx 50k for the fic as a whole.
Betas: Much love and thanks to my beloved zooey_glass04 for beta-reading, and to the lovely gestaltrose for Ameripicking. <333
Notes: Written during Nano 2008. Set post-4.07 (It's The Great Pumpkin, Sam Winchester), but with some spoilers up to 4.10. Thank you to zooey_glass04 for the title and icon help!
This fic can also be read on the Archive of Our Own.
Summary: People are dying in the town where Dean came back to life, and Dean's never been a big believer in coincidence.
Dean swallowed hard, because he knew the answer, even though he didn't know exactly what it meant. "It's a feather. One of Castiel's feathers."
Previous chapters: Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Sam stared at what was undeniably a feather, albeit one apparently made of shadows, then raised his head to stare at his brother.
Dean was still pale and dark-eyed from what Uriel had done to him earlier that day; he couldn't have gotten more than a couple of hours sleep. But his eyes were clear as he examined the feather, and Sam didn't doubt that he was in control of himself.
"How can you tell?" Sam asked cautiously.
Dean shrugged without looking up. "He showed me his wings once. Or... the shadow of his wings, I guess. I don't really get how it all works. But... they were like this - real and not real."
Sam nodded slowly. "And you're sure it's Castiel's? I mean, I guess other angels probably have wings like that too, right?"
Dean shook his head. "It's Castiel's."
Sam frowned. He didn't want to press the point too hard, but on the other hand, Uriel had tried to kill Dean, and Sam didn't put it past him to try some other, less direct way next. "Are you definitely sure? After what Uriel did today... I don't know, but I guess I wouldn't be taking anything at face value."
"I'm telling you, Sam," Dean said, a note of frustration finally creeping into his voice. "It's Castiel's. I can tell, okay? I don't know how I know for sure, but I do."
"Okay," Sam said, accepting that. "In that case, how did Bela get hold of it?"
"That's what I want to know," Dean muttered. He ran one finger absently along the feather, and there was another flash of light. For an instant, the light was all there was, filling the entire room, blindingly bright; then it subsided and the feather was made of shadows again.
Sam took a deep breath, and another. The light had been... terrifying. Overwhelming. But at the same time... it hadn't felt wrong. It really was an angel feather.
He wanted to reach out and touch the feather himself - an angel feather, god - but he didn't quite dare, not after the way it had flashed. It was one thing for Dean to touch it - he and Castiel had had some kind of connection (Castiel had pulled Dean out of Hell, had touched his soul, and Sam couldn't help but feel jealous of that). Sam wasn't sure he was entitled.
Dean didn't seem to pick up on Sam's mixed emotions, probably because he was still staring at the feather as if he expected it to reveal all its secrets to him if he just watched it closely enough.
"How would Bela have gotten hold of one of his feathers?" Sam asked finally. "Especially now that -" He stopped before he could put it into words. Especially now that he's dead. "She didn't have it with her the other day, did she?"
"No," Dean said with certainty and a slight degree of scorn. "I think I'd have noticed her carrying around a freaking angel feather, Sam."
Sam raised his hands in acceptance. "Okay. Then she must have found it somewhere."
The feather was dark in Dean's hands as he turned it over, examining it again as if he might have overlooked something the first time. Sam couldn't look away.
"Maybe Bela will be able to tell us," Dean said finally.
Sam looked around, but there was still no sign of her. "I think the light did something to her."
Dean nodded. "Yeah. But I think she'll be back. She brought the feather here for a reason."
"You said she was halfway between a vengeful spirit and a demon," Sam reminded him. "You don't think it might have... I don't know. Damaged her?"
Dean looked up and met his eyes. "Yeah. Yeah, I think the feather did something to her. She was trying to say something, did you see? But she couldn't."
"So why would she have kept it, if it was hurting her?" Sam wondered aloud. It didn't make sense. Bela had always seemed to him to put her own interests ahead of anyone else's, and somehow he doubted death and Hell would have changed her that much.
"She must have had a damn good reason," Dean said, echoing his thoughts. "That's why I think she'll be back once she's got herself together again."
Sam watched his brother stare at the feather some more. Dean looked... weirdly intense, and like he was deep in thought. At any other time, Sam would have been teasing him about it, but his brother looked so uncharacteristically serious that it felt wrong.
"I don't get it," Dean muttered finally. Sam was about to ask him what he was talking about, but his brother went on before he could open his mouth. "I mean... I get that the poor dumbass he was in, his vessel or whatever - I get that his body would be - left. But not... not him. Not his wings and shit. It's not like he had a body of his own or whatever."
Sam thought about it, even though it made him feel a bit sick. He wasn't sure how he felt about angels these days - except Uriel: he was now very, very clear on how much he hated him - but still, Castiel had been an angel, and he'd brought Dean back from Hell, and imagining him dead and wondering about the mechanics of it... God.
"And if there was," Dean went on distractedly, still staring at the feather, "wouldn't they have... buried him, or something? The angels wouldn't have just left him lying there, would they? I mean, okay, they can be dicks, but he was their brother. He can't just be..."
Sam winced. "I don't..." Thing was, he wasn't sure. It wasn't so much that he thought Uriel was enough of a bastard to do something like that, it was just that angels weren't human, and he was becoming more and more aware of that. They weren't human, and they didn't think the way humans thought, or care about the things humans did. He didn't know whether they would bury one of their own. And though he didn't really know what happened to angels when they died, he had a feeling they probably just... stopped being. He couldn't imagine an angel becoming a restless spirit because they hadn't been buried.
More to the point, he couldn't imagine Bela bringing them the feather just so they could bury Castiel. Something else was going on.
"I wish she'd hurry the fuck up," Dean said finally. "How long do you think it should take her to... re-form or whatever?"
"How am I supposed to know, man?" Sam demanded. Then a thought struck him. "There is one thing we could try in the meantime, though."
~*~
"I can't believe I let you talk me into this," Dean hissed.
"I didn't hear you coming up with any better ideas," Sam said.
Dean stared down at the Ouija board. He'd had no idea Sam had even kept the thing.
"You're the one who didn't want to just sit around and wait until Bela recovers and comes back," Sam pointed out. "Anyway, she used a Ouija board to communicate with spirits when she was alive. It'll be familiar to her. And it's got to take less energy for her than trying to hold a visible form and speak."
Dean looked at the board glumly. Damn Sam for managing to make a Ouija board sound like a logical plan. It just had such a teenage-sleepover vibe.
"Fine," he said after a moment, and settled down on the other side of the board, facing his brother. "Maybe after this we can braid your stupid hair and have a pillow fight."
Sam grinned at him, slow and heated. "You love my hair."
Dean fought down the flush that warmed through him and didn't let himself look away. Because yeah, okay, he kind of did. That didn't make it any less stupid.
"Okay, fine, let's do this," he said, looking down at Castiel's feather to take his mind off the urge to lean over and kiss Sam. He knew damn well things would spiral out of control if he did, and right now he needed to find out what the fuck was going on. They couldn't afford to get sidetracked.
Sam put his fingers on the pointer, businesslike again, and Dean followed suit, swallowing down the desire to make another smartass comment.
"Bela?" Sam said. "Bela, are you here?"
Silence. The pointer didn't move.
Sam looked across at Dean. "Maybe you should try. She, uh, might not like me too much right now, after... you know."
Dean noted the way his brother glanced away at that last part, and reminded himself to raise the issue at some point. He'd wanted to talk to Sam again about using his powers, after his brother had used them on him, but with everything else that had happened, he'd never got round to it. Or maybe he'd been putting that talk off, if he was honest. Judging by the tone of Sam's voice, though, he couldn't afford to do that for too much longer.
"Dean?" Sam said hesitantly.
"Yeah," Dean said. "Bela? You around?"
They waited, but there was still nothing.
"Look," Dean tried again. "I know you had something to tell us. And I know you're not going to let something like a freaking feather take you out for long."
He and Sam looked at each other and waited.
"This is a stupid idea," Dean muttered. "Bela, I don't know what the fuck you saw in these things. I mean, seriously, Ouija boards? There's got to be less embarrassing ways of communicating with spirits than that. How did you not cringe every time?"
He was mostly just ranting, and was caught off-guard when the pointer slowly shuddered into motion. STUPID, it spelled out.
Sam grinned. "Ouija boards? Or him?"
The pointer moved to the letter D and hovered there, and Dean scowled as his brother laughed.
"Bela, what the fuck is going on?" he demanded. "Where did you get the feather?"
CASTIEL, the pointer spelled out.
"I know it's his," Dean said sharply. "Where did you find it?"
The pointer shuddered for a moment, then started spelling out letters again. TRAPPED.
"You're trapped?" Sam asked, frowning. "Trapped here? But..."
The pointer shot across to the letter C.
Dean stared at the board without seeing it. What...?
"What do you mean, he's trapped?" he demanded. "He's an angel, it's not like he can wind up as a ghost or whatever."
The pointer moved across to 'NO', then began shooting between letters again, almost too fast for Dean to track.
NOT DEAD, it spelled out.
Dean stared at it. He could hear his heart speeding up, a faint roaring in his ears. Because he knew what she meant, and that wasn't possible. It wasn't.
"Bela," Sam said into the silence, his voice awkward. "Are you saying - are you really saying Castiel's still alive?"
YES, the pointer said.
Dean felt Sam's eyes shoot up to fasten on his face, but he couldn't look up or say anything or even think quite yet.
"Why should we believe you?" Sam asked finally. "Uriel said he was dead -"
"Lost," Dean said quietly, not realizing he was going to speak until he heard the words coming out of his mouth. "Uriel said they'd lost him."
Sam stared at him. "You think..."
Dean shrugged with a carelessness he was far from feeling. "Would you put it past him?"
Sam's mouth snapped shut and he nodded in unhappy agreement.
"Say I believe you," Dean said finally. He was still a long way from believing it, but he wasn't ruling it out entirely, either. "Did he give you the feather?"
NO, the pointer said. Then, more slowly, LOST IT. FIGHT.
Dean narrowed his eyes. "And you just... what? Decided to bring it to us out of the goodness of your heart? Somehow I'm not buying it."
The pointer shuddered for a moment, before finally spelling out, PAY MY DEBTS.
Sam was frowning. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"I don't know," Dean said. Except he was remembering the flashes of memory he'd seen when Bela was possessing him, when she'd clung to his essence to try to stop Sam from exorcising her back to Hell. Remembering her memory of unbearably white light, and the way the dark chains had vanished as the light passed over her. Maybe he did know, after all.
"Where?" he asked finally. "You said he was trapped. Where?"
The pointer spelled out CHICAGO and fell still.
"Fine," Dean said, and took his fingers off the pointer. He picked up the feather again, ignoring the thrum of energy he could feel coursing through it. "Fine. Chicago. Why the fuck not."
Sam was watching him. "You believe her?"
Dean shook his head, not really in negation. "I don't know. But I figure it's not exactly like we've got anywhere else we need to be right now. I don't think Uriel's about to come knocking for our help any time soon. And we haven't been to Chicago in a while."
Since their encounter with Meg - or, no, the demon that had been possessing Meg, Dean corrected himself, a distinction he'd been forcing himself to make since the raising of the Witnesses. They hadn't exactly been eager to hurry back there after that one.
He wasn't sure he believed Bela, but Castiel had pulled him out of Hell. If there was a chance he could be trapped now, Dean couldn't help but feel he owed it to the angel to check it out.
~*~
Sam leaned his head against the window of the Impala and tried to go back to sleep. He wasn't surprised that Dean had wanted to set off immediately, but he still wasn't sure it had been such a good idea. He was tired and hadn't had nearly enough sleep, and Dean was still pale from what Uriel had tried earlier. Sam hadn't wanted his brother to drive, but Dean had glared at him so balefully when he'd tried to argue the point that he'd conceded defeat.
"We'll stop in a few hours, okay?" Dean said. "I just didn't really want to hang around back there any longer than necessary."
His brother had a point, Sam admitted silently. Getting further away from the last place they'd seen Uriel was probably a smart move. Not that he thought it would make any real difference in the end: if Uriel wanted to find them, he would. But he was pretty sure that hadn't been Dean's only motivation. That was okay, though. Sam could understand it.
"It's fine," he said, hauling himself upright. He guessed it was better to stay awake until they stopped, if Dean wasn't planning to drive right through to morning. With his brother still looking that exhausted, it was probably safer to talk and keep each other awake.
Dean shot a look across at him, but seemed to accept it. "You think Bela's following us?"
Sam shrugged. "She knows where we're going. And she managed to track us to Marietta. I'm guessing she'll find us in Chicago. Maybe she'll have her strength back by then."
Dean nodded. "I guess you're right. If she's telling the truth, we'll need her to show us where he is."
Sam sighed. "And if she's lying?"
Dean's hands tightened around the steering wheel, but he didn't look away from the road. "Then we'll deal with it. And I guess we'll get another shot at Lilith."
Sam winced.
"I don't think she'd pull something like this for Lilith, though," Dean added after a moment. "Bela hates the bitch. And okay, she's not exactly the trustworthy kind, but I don't think she'd do something like that. It's not like Lilith's got the same hold over her that she used to."
Sam nodded. "I hope you're right." More quietly, he added, "Not that I don't want Lilith dead, but I don't think we're ready yet to take her on again."
Dean looked across at him before turning back to the road. "Yeah. Yeah, I'd kinda like to put off that reunion for a while myself."
Sam turned to look at him this time. There was something in his brother's voice, and Sam wanted to ask if Dean had seen Lilith in Hell, what she'd done to him, but Dean's face was closed off, and Sam knew pushing his brother when he was wearing that expression only ever made things worse. He stayed quiet instead.
"So," Dean said finally. His voice was almost light-hearted, but of the forced kind that made Sam instinctively wince, even before he knew what was coming next. "You pulled the 'look ma, no hands' kind of exorcism on me back there."
Sam took a deep breath and held it. He didn't know why he'd been bothering to hope that Dean wouldn't raise that subject. "Don't hold your breath for an apology. She was going to cut off your fingers, Dean, she was going to kill you -"
"She'd changed her mind on that score by the time you got there," Dean said lightly. "But even if she hadn't -"
"Look, there wasn't another option," Sam said. He could hear the angry tone creeping into his voice, but - god. He hated remembering that moment, hated this entire conversation. "She already had the knife against your hand. There wasn't time to try to disarm you and tie you up for a proper exorcism. And if I'd used the knife, you'd have - what the fuck is it you think I should have done instead, Dean?"
Dean groaned and wrenched the car over to the side of the road, pulling off and turning to look at Sam seriously. Sam fought the urge to climb out and just get as far away as he could.
"Sam," Dean said. "I don't know what's up with your freaky mojo, but - look, you know what the angels said -"
"Oh, I know what the angels said," Sam said bitterly. "Like the angel that tried to kill you this afternoon? Yeah, I'm really sold on their opinion of right and wrong."
Dean shook his head. "Yeah, okay. So Uriel's an ass, not exactly a newsflash. But - Sam, a demon gave you those... powers. And that scares the fuck out of me."
Sam gazed out of the window and tried not to let it hurt. "I know."
"But you keep on using them," Dean said.
Sam turned his head. "I just told you, there was no -"
"No other option, yeah, I know," Dean cut him off. He was smiling, but it looked painful. "And Samhain - you had no other option there, either, huh?"
"You were there," Sam said. "You saw how -"
Dean shook his head. "You remember when Dad died?"
The sudden shift caught Sam off-balance. "What?"
"I kind of lost it," Dean admitted. Though a little rough, his tone was far more even than Sam had ever heard him use when talking about their dad's death. It wasn't a subject Dean ever raised voluntarily. Sam wasn't sure how he was meant to react.
"Everything was... fucked up," Dean said. He was staring out the front windshield, not looking at Sam. "I wanted to just kill everything. You remember the vampires we hunted."
Sam wasn't likely to forget any time soon. He'd been terrified back then, aware his brother was slipping and not knowing how to bring him back. He'd been so scared for Dean, and even the memory made him want to reach out, press a hand to the back of Dean's neck.
"I was just killing," Dean said again. "It seemed simple enough. If something was supernatural, then I killed it, and I didn't think too much about it."
"You didn't kill Lenore," Sam said, because he had to say something.
Dean glanced across at him for a second before looking away. "Yeah, well. You got through to me eventually. I was just a bit slow on the uptake."
Sam sighed. "So what you're saying is I'm being slow on the uptake now?"
"No," Dean said, with a vehemence that surprised him. "I'm saying I wasn't thinking, Sam. Something was supernatural, so it was my enemy, so I killed it. Other options didn't even occur to me - like, hey, maybe these vampires don't actually kill people, or hey, maybe just threatening these bastards would be enough, I might not need to kill them. Killing was what I did. It was the first thing I thought of."
Sam watched his brother and waited, trying not to anticipate what Dean might say next. He wasn't sure he wanted to know.
"I don't want you to go that way," Dean said finally, and turned to look at him, his eyes hard. "Sometimes we need to do things that are fucked up. But sometimes we don't. And you say I didn't have any option, Sam, but how hard did you really look for one? Or did you just go for the one that seemed easiest?"
Sam looked away, unable to hold his brother's gaze. He knew what Dean was trying to say.
"That freaky mind-mojo of yours scares the shit out of me," Dean said again. "Because a demon gave it to you, and like fuck was he trying to help out. Because an angel threatened to goddamn kill you if you kept using it. But yeah, if it's the only way for you to survive - fuck it. That's what matters, right? Believe me, I'm down with that." His gaze became even more intent, but Sam still couldn't look at him. "But don't make the same mistake I did, Sammy. Don't let it become your first instinct, the easiest option. It's not an easy option. And it's too dangerous for you to go around doing that kind of thing like it's nothing."
Sam nodded jerkily and took a careful breath. "I'm still not sorry." He wasn't, not for this one. He still didn't think there would have been time to disarm Dean before Bela had hurt him. Maybe she hadn't been planning to at that point, but Sam hadn't known that. He hadn't been about to risk it.
That didn't mean he didn't hear what his brother was saying. And he got it, he really did. It was...
"I'll try," he added, and forced himself to meet Dean's gaze at last.
Dean studied him for a moment, then nodded as if satisfied and started the car again, pulling back onto the road.
Sam waited five miles before he finally asked, "What was it like?"
Dean didn't look at him. "What was what like?"
"When I was trying to exorcise you," Sam said. He was weirdly nervous, bracing himself for Dean's answer. "What did it feel like?"
Dean was watching the road really intently now, and his knuckles were white around the wheel again. "What do you think?"
Sam imagined darkness, a tightening vise of pressure, the sick stain of something demonic. He wished he hadn't asked.
"Light," Dean said abruptly, his grip on the wheel suddenly relaxing. "It was like light. Passing through me."
Sam stared at him, long enough to convince himself Dean was telling the truth, and then looked away.
Light, he thought. Huh.
~*~
Being in Chicago wasn't the most comfortable feeling. It was made worse by the fact that they didn't have the first clue what they were looking for. Eventually they just checked into a motel - not the one where they'd stayed the last time they'd been in Chicago, or anywhere near it - and tried to figure out what to do next.
"Maybe we should try summoning Bela," Sam suggested finally. "Or see if she'll respond to the Ouija board again."
Dean shot him an 'are you for real?' look. Sam ignored it as best he could, because it had worked, damnit, no matter what Dean thought of it.
"It's either that or start researching," Sam said. "If Castiel told you he was going to protect a Seal, then there must be one around here. Maybe we could go to the library, try to track it down..."
Dean groaned and flopped down on the nearest bed, staring up at the ceiling with an expression of tragic despair. "Fine, fine, we'll do the goddamn Ouija board again if it means that much to you."
Sam rolled his eyes, then walked over and kissed Dean into a more cooperative mood.
It didn't take him long to set up the Ouija board. He considered the table for a moment, but decided that messing with Dean by putting it on the floor outweighed his own comfort. There was something about the sight of Dean sitting cross-legged on the floor, martyred expression on his face, that cracked him up every time.
"You really think she might be here already?" Dean asked, settling down on the floor opposite him. "It's a long way from Marietta, and it's not like she could drive." He paused. "At least, I don't think so."
Sam wondered for a moment whether Bela would possess some random person just to drive to Chicago, then sighed. There was no way to know, and no way to stop it now. "I don't know," he said. "If she's part-demon, she might be able to just jump here. I guess we'll see." He placed his fingers on the planchette, and narrowed his eyes at his brother until Dean did the same thing.
Dean sighed, but spoke up without Sam having to prompt him this time. "Bela? You there?"
"Well well well," Bela said, walking through the wall. "Isn't this cute."
Dean drew his fingers back from the planchette as if they'd been burned, and shot a glare in Sam's direction. Sam ignored him, focusing on Bela instead.
He hadn't caught more than a glimpse of her when she'd stopped possessing Dean's body, back in Pontiac - he'd been too caught up in using his powers, and her form had collapsed into smoke too quickly for him to recognize her. She looked a lot like the Bela he remembered, her hair falling down past her shoulders, her eyes sharp and mocking, her mouth twisted into a smirk. But something in the way she held herself, the way she moved, betrayed all too clearly that she was no longer alive. No longer human.
"Did you want to have a tea party?" she asked, mocking. "I could have brought cake if I'd known."
"You're the one who used to 'consult the spirits' all the time," Dean said.
"I at least knew how to use the board as a tool," Bela said sharply. "Rather than just messing around like a couple of schoolkids."
Dean shot a glance at Sam, half 'what a bitch', half 'told you so'. Sam shook his head and got up, sitting down at the table instead. Dean joined him.
"It's nice to see you again, Sam Winchester," Bela said, eyes intent on him. "Dean and I got the chance to... catch up the other day, but I didn't really get to stick around and find out more about what you've been up to. I've heard a lot, though."
Sam knew better than to let her needle him. Funny how Bela still hadn't changed in a lot of ways. "Tell us about the feather, Bela."
Bela raised an eyebrow. "Straight down to business? That could hurt a girl's feelings, Sam." She smiled. "But I've never been just any girl. Fine. I already told you most of it."
"It's Castiel's," Dean said. "Where did you get it?"
"I told you already," Bela said. "He's not dead, Dean."
Sam didn't trust Bela; never had when she was alive, and didn't now, either, when she'd possessed his brother and tried to kill him just a day or two earlier. He wasn't that stupid. But something about the way she said it rang true, and Sam began to think she might not be lying.
He saw a shift in the way Dean was holding himself, too subtle for anyone else to pick up on, and knew that his brother thought so too.
"You said he's trapped," Dean said. "Where? How?"
"Not too far from here," Bela said. "As for how... Lilith got the better of him, I'm afraid."
Sam felt his heart-rate pick up at the sound of the name. "Lilith's here?"
Bela looked at him, then shook her head. "Sorry, Sam. Believe me, I want her just as much as you do. But she left town after she trapped the angel. I haven't had a chance to pick up her trail again."
"Yeah, what's up with that?" Dean asked. He was leaning back in his seat, eyeing Bela intently but with no real hostility. "I thought killing her was all you gave a damn about now. What are you doing chasing around the country bringing us angel feathers?"
"I told you, I pay my debts," Bela said. She smiled at him, sharp-edged. "The one time in my life it seemed I was getting something for nothing, it turned out I'd booked myself a one-way ticket downstairs. I've made a point of making sure I don't wind up in that kind of situation again."
"What debt?" Sam asked. Because okay, he could understand that motivation, but still...
"To Dean, for helping me when you tried to exorcise me, for one thing," Bela said. "I thought he might want to know his angel wasn't dead."
Sam glanced across at his brother, but Bela wasn't done. "And to the angel. I don't suppose he meant to, but - the light..."
Sam frowned, but Dean seemed to be following. "His light broke your chains. He set you free."
"Yes," Bela said. She was looking at Dean, her gaze very intent. "It's partly because of him that I'm here, that I escaped from Below. And whether he meant to do it or not, that's a debt I need to repay."
It was hard to hear them talking about Hell so... not casually, never that, but with such understated familiarity, the way neither of them had to describe anything, the way they talked about chains as if that was nothing. It freaked Sam out a bit, but he kept quiet and watched them both.
"Okay," Dean said finally. "Say I'm buying all this. He seriously gave you his feather and told you to come let us know he was trapped? Because..."
"Oh, no," Bela told them. She laughed. "God, no. I don't think he'd have wanted me to do that at all. I didn't exactly ask his permission."
Sam stared at her. "You stole one of his feathers?" Was that even possible? Okay, Sam had only met the angel once, and maybe not under the best of circumstances, but he couldn't imagine any angel just standing there and letting someone pluck one of their feathers. Just... no.
Bela rolled her eyes, the movement a little jerky, like it took thought to move her form that way now. "I've no real desire to be tossed back Below, Sam, whatever you might think." She looked from him to Dean. "He was hurt in the fight, lost a few feathers. I grabbed one from the floor."
"Hurt?" Dean demanded. "How bad?"
"How am I supposed to know?" Bela said, sounding suddenly bored. "He's an angel. I grabbed a feather, brought it to you, told you he's still alive and trapped - as far as I'm concerned, I've paid my debt in full."
She turned as if she was planning to walk out through the same wall she entered by.
"Wait," Sam said firmly. "You're not done yet. Where is he? Where did Lilith trap him?"
Bela paused and turned back. "I'll tell you. If you give me something I want in return."
"Oh, so much for repaying your debt," Dean muttered sarcastically.
"I told you, I've already repaid it," Bela said. "If you want me to actually take you right there, that's dangerous, and there's a price."
"What price?" Sam asked. He felt oddly more inclined to believe her when she was making demands; that was the Bela he was familiar with. If she was going to demand something in exchange, that meant she might actually have something to offer them.
Bela focused on him. "You almost sent me back to Hell the other day. I want you to promise that you won't. Not now, not ever."
Sam took a deep breath. "What?"
"You heard me," Bela said, her expression very serious. "I don't want to go back down there. I can't go back there. I want you to promise you won't suddenly decide it's where I belong."
Sam saw Dean straighten out of the corner of his eye, and it was that more than anything else that made him say, "Okay. On one condition. If you... go darker, become a demon, start hurting people - that's it. I'll do what I need to. Because then it will be where you belong. If you stay like this... we won't have a problem."
Bela kept her eyes fixed on his face, then slowly nodded. "Good enough."
"Awesome, everyone's happy, now tell us where the angel is," Dean said.
The corner of Bela's mouth quirked up. "I think it would work much better to show you."
And before Sam had figured out what that smile meant, she had stepped forward and into Dean.
~*~
Is this seriously necessary? Dean grumbled in his head. Because I've got to tell you, I don't think this was the best way to convince Sam he shouldn't be exorcising you any time soon.
Bela laughed at him, flexing his hands around the steering wheel, and he could feel her enjoyment of even that much physical sensation.
Necessary? No, she said. Fun? Definitely.
"Dean?" Sam said, his voice tense.
"It's fine, Sammy," Dean reassured him again, for the tenth time in the ten minutes since Bela had wandered back into his body. She wasn't controlling him or anything this time, not really; mostly she just seemed to be along for the ride. Dean had always known he was irresistible.
"I don't like this," Sam said.
"It's okay," Dean said again. "At least this way we don't have to worry about finding the place. And it's probably the easiest way for her to come along."
He wasn't entirely sure that last part was true, though he hoped it would help Sam deal with it. He suspected that Bela's twisted idea of fun really was the main reason she'd decided to do things this way. He remembered all the wigs and disguises she'd used back when she was alive, transforming herself from one person into another, over and over. She probably loved being able to actually possess different people and slip inside them. Like a whole-body disguise or something.
Like you're any different, with your fake IDs and pseudonyms? Bela needled him.
Dean didn't really have a comeback for that one, because he'd always thought the fake IDs were pretty damn cool, even if Sam had never truly appreciated them the same way.
So you're just flitting from one person to the next now? Dean asked. Like changing your clothes, or your wig?
Bela was silent for a moment. No.
The pause drew out long enough for him to realize something was wrong, even though her presence inside him wasn't strong enough for him to catch more than a faint echo of her emotions.
Possessing people... Bela said finally. I thought at first it would be like that, but they always feel - violated. And I can't put them through that. I can't.
Dean didn't really know what to say to that.
So I've been sticking to bastards who deserve it, Bela added, her voice forcibly brightening.
And me, Dean reminded her.
Bela laughed at him, and the pain of her silence shattered completely. Yes, well. You know what's going on, and who I am.
Dean sighed at her. Just so long as this doesn't become a habit.
"Dean?" Sam said again.
"Sorry," Dean said, looking across at his brother. "It's kind of distracting. But I'm okay, really."
Sam didn't look happy. "Maybe we should make her get out of you, man. Seriously."
"It can't be that much further," Dean said reassuringly. Is it?
Another five minutes, Bela told him. We need to take a left up here - can I?
Knock yourself out, Dean said. Though not literally, at least not while you're inside me, because you'd probably take me with you.
"She says we're almost there, just another few minutes," he said aloud to Sam, trying not to be weirded out as his hands moved without his input, signaling and then turning the steering wheel.
Having fun? he asked.
It's nice to feel again, Bela sent back, giving him back control over his arms. You can probably remember what that's like. Plus, watching Sam trying not to be jealous is hilarious.
Yeah, that was the Bela Dean knew, all right, messing with other people's heads just for the fun of it.
She didn't bother telling him where to stop the car, just took over his body again to guide the Impala into an empty parking lot and shut down the engine.
"I'm not coming inside," she said, commandeering his voice to speak to Sam too. "It's the abandoned warehouse on the left. Second floor. There are protections, so be careful. I know it goes against the grain for you two, but try not to rush into anything without knowing exactly what you're doing, just this once?"
Why aren't you coming in? Dean demanded to know.
Because I'm not an idiot, she said bluntly. Our deal was that I'd show you where to go, nothing more. Lilith's been here, angels have been here... if you think I'm stupid enough to risk getting caught in the middle, then you don't know me very well.
You don't change, Bela, Dean said.
Oh, I do, Bela replied, a dark undercurrent in her voice before it lightened again. But not that much.
"Good luck, boys," she said, commandeering Dean's voice again, and then she slipped out of him, vanishing in a cloud of smoke before either of them could ask anything else.
Sam leaned over at once, gripping Dean's shoulder, his other hand pressed against Dean's face. "You okay?"
"Fine," Dean told him, but held still and let Sam look his fill until he was satisfied. "So she wanted to drive my car. Can't blame her for that."
Sam rolled his eyes and released him. "Did she tell you anything else about what to expect in there?"
"Not really," Dean said, but filled his brother in on her last few comments.
"I'm surprised she didn't want to hang around and enjoy the fun," Sam said with a trace of bitterness.
"You know Bela," Dean said with a shrug. "C'mon, let's do this."
~*~
The abandoned warehouse only reminded Dean a little bit of the one where they'd run up against the demon possessing Meg. This one was dark and quiet too, but the atmosphere was different. The other warehouse had had an air of tension, like something had been about to happen at any moment. This warehouse just felt... still. Like everything was all over.
Dean didn't like it much better.
The EMF meter went crazy the second they got inside, no matter which direction they turned, and Dean gave up and switched it off, because it was more distraction than help.
Despite what Bela had said, they checked out the ground floor first, just to be on the safe side. There was nothing alive there, nothing lying in wait, but Dean could tell at once that something had gone down there. They'd found sulfur and drops of blood, and strange scorch marks on the floor. He wasn't sure he wanted to know what the second floor would look like.
It was just as bad as he'd expected. There weren't so much drops of blood as pools of it, soaked into the floorboards, staining the dusty wood. The place seemed darker, despite the light filtering through the cracked and dirty windows. It was the shadows that were the creepiest, though: shadows where there shouldn't have been any, unnatural and unmoving.
He and Sam looked at each other, and began to work their way methodically through the small offices off the stairwell, all of them abandoned and empty. Dean had a feeling that whatever they were looking for would be in the large main area which, if the second floor was laid out like the one below, would be behind the last door.
He and Sam took up positions on either side of the door, holding each other's gaze instead of counting out loud. Then Sam carefully opened the door and they burst in together.
It was a wide-open space, stretching out the remaining length of the building, the high ceiling adding to the feeling of space. The floor was blackened, seemingly scorched, right from the door they'd just come through to the far side of the room, except for a wide circle in the center, where the floor was suddenly unmarked.
Castiel was standing in the middle of the circle, looking down at the ground.
He's alive, Dean thought numbly. Even after what Bela had said, he hadn't truly believed it. But Castiel was alive.
He slowly lowered his gun and walked forward, treading cautiously on the scorched floorboards, but they held his weight. Sam moved with him, looking around for anything unexpected.
Castiel looked up as they approached, meeting Dean's eyes with the same intent gaze that had become so familiar. Dean opened his mouth, but the angel spoke before he could say anything.
"You cannot come any closer."
Dean eyed him sharply, drawing up short, then looked down at the floor. He and Sam were only a few feet away from where the scorched ground gave way to the circle of unmarked floorboards.
Dean looked back up at Castiel, who was still studying him expressionlessly. "I think this is the part where you're supposed to make a joke about how rumors of your demise were greatly exaggerated," he said. Dean could hear the edge in his own voice, but damnit, he'd thought the angel was dead.
Castiel looked away, the movement deliberate. "On the contrary. They were not exaggerated by much. You should not have come here."
"What do you mean?" Sam asked before Dean could reply. Dean could tell just from his brother's tone that he was frowning. "Are you injured?"
"No," the angel said, turning his gaze on Sam. "Not significantly."
"Okay, what the fuck's going on?" Dean demanded, losing patience. "Why did Uriel tell us you were dead? What are you doing here?"
He took a step forward, but Castiel's gaze made him look down at the floor and stop again.
"You cannot come any closer," Castiel repeated, his voice quiet but very firm.
"Why?" Dean demanded.
"Because if you do," Castiel said, "the Seal will be broken."
~*~
Sam stared at the angel, then took a step forward to touch Dean's arm carefully and draw him back. Dean obeyed without looking away from Castiel.
"She was telling the truth: you're trapped," Sam said aloud, trying to put the pieces together.
"Yes," the angel said.
Dean was shaking his head slowly. "What happened?"
Castiel looked away. "There was a battle here. We sought to protect the Seal from Lilith. We held her off, but she is very powerful. She did not manage to break the Seal, but she did succeed in trapping me inside its protections."
"You want to spell that out for me in plain English?" Dean said roughly, and Sam could read the fear behind his brother's harsh tone, fear that he understood what Castiel was saying all too well.
"It means that if I leave this place, the Seal will break," Castiel said quietly.
Sam swallowed hard. "There's got to be a way. I mean - to free you. Without breaking the Seal."
"No," Castiel said, with quiet certainty.
"Hey, screw that," Dean said abruptly. "You're always telling me you're not omniscient. So don't try to tell me now that you know for sure there's no way to do it."
Castiel's lips twitched into a near-smile as he met Dean's gaze. "Very well, then. To my knowledge, and that of my brothers, there is no way it can be done."
"Where's Lilith now?" Sam asked. It was only a few days since Uriel had told them about Castiel. If there was a chance Lilith was still nearby... Sam wanted her dead so badly he could taste it.
"She is gone," Castiel said, his eyes sharp enough that Sam was forced to look away.
Dean broke in before Sam could press the point. "Why didn't she break the Seal?"
"She may not have intended to trap me here," Castiel said. "It has the advantage that I'm now well-placed to defend the Seal. She significantly weakened the protections on it, but I can make it difficult for her to open the Seal entirely."
"But you can't leave," Dean pointed out.
"That is what Uriel meant when he told you I was lost," Castiel said. His voice was inhumanly calm. "I can no longer play a part elsewhere."
"He should have done something," Dean said. "There must have been something another angel could have done."
Castiel said, "All things happen for a reason, Dean."
"Bullshit," Dean said immediately. Sam winced. It was incomprehensible to him that Dean still refused so adamantly to believe in God, even after being raised from Hell by an angel. The way he insisted on arguing with and provoking angels at every turn scared the shit out of Sam.
"What happens now?" he intervened before Dean could say anything else.
"I remain here and protect the Seal to the best of my ability," Castiel said calmly. "If Lilith returns, I may be able to hold her off. You two will be needed elsewhere; Uriel will guide you now in my place."
Dean snorted at that. "Yeah, I doubt it. We're not his favorite people."
Castiel paused. "Uriel does not have favorites. He is not... close to humanity. But you are needed, and Uriel recognizes that."
"He tried to kill Dean yesterday," Sam said flatly.
Castiel looked at Dean. "He did not succeed." There was the faintest note of a question in there, Sam thought.
"No," Dean said. "Not for lack of trying, though. But whatever, if someone needs us, they can come and find us. Until then, we're going to work on getting you out of here."
Castiel frowned slightly. "I told you, it can't be done."
"No, you said you didn't know how it could be done," Dean corrected him. "There's got to be a way."
"Yeah, we'll find something," Sam agreed, with more confidence than he actually felt. But Castiel had given him back his brother, had raised Dean out of Hell, so trying to find a way to free the angel was the very least Sam owed.
"There you go," Dean said, as if that settled everything. "Anything we can bring you in the meantime? Food, blankets, latest issue of Busty Asian Beauties?"
Sam elbowed him sharply in the ribs.
"Thank you, no," Castiel replied seriously. "I do not require anything, and there is too great a risk that the Seal would be broken if you tried to pass anything through the protections."
"What can you tell us about the Seal?" Sam asked hastily, seizing the opportunity to steer the conversation away from the thought of bringing the angel porn. Jesus, Dean was shameless.
Castiel looked at him. "Nothing. It is not something with which you should concern yourselves. Do not try to interfere."
"We're not going to just leave you here and forget about you," Dean said, and Sam could hear the anger underlying his brother's voice.
"We are fighting a war," Castiel said. "Such things happen in war, and the others must continue."
"If someone dies, yeah," Dean said. "But you don't leave anyone behind. Or maybe that's a human thing."
"I'm not human," Castiel reminded him very seriously, almost as if Dean might have forgotten.
"No, but we are," Dean told him. "Let's go research, Sammy."
Chapter Five