Chapter 7: Atonement - part 2
The following morning the brothers returned to Wen’s cabin. Dean stood beside Sam, helping him stand upright. In front of him stood Cas, the table placed between them. The scent of Abramelin Oil filled the air. Cas took Sam’s hand and gave Dean a cup asking him to help Sam drink it. Dean raised an eyebrow and Cas just held his gaze until he took the cup and helped Sam drink.
Cas looked from Dean to Sam. He wasn’t an angel, not in way he had been, but neither was he completely human, or for that fact completely mortal. A small part of his grace had survived. Buried deep within his subconscious, he’d felt it stir after Ariel had spoken with him. Once Castiel committed himself to this act of atonement, this sliver of grace had responded with renewed vigour and purpose.
Dean started the ritual hoping that whatever Cas had come up with, would work. He didn’t think he could be held responsible for what would happen if it didn’t. Dean was so focused on getting it right he didn’t notice what Cas was doing until he spoke.
“Now, Sam...This may hurt,”
Dean stopped and looked at Cas, “What are you doing?”
“What needs to be done Dean, helping Sam,” Cas said calmly as he closed his left hand around Sam’s wrist. “I’ll be fine and its better this way. If I can't tell you again, Sam…I'm sorry I ever did this to you.” He placed his right on Sam’s shoulder.
Dean watched in horror as something like liquid fire flared across Sam’s face down his arm up Cas’s arm and face. Both he and Sam cried out in pain. Cas let go Sam, who collapsed against Dean.
Dean manoeuvred Sam onto the bed and checked to see he was alright. Then he turned angrily towards Cas.
“What did you do?” Dean shouted. Cas shrunk away from him towards the fireplace with a look of horror. Dean knew the look and ran his hands through his hair in frustration. He tried a couple times more to approach Cas. Cas just stood in front of the fireplace, motionless and with eyes glazed over staring into space.
“Cas! You dumb ass. Why do you always pull this shit?” He said.
He sat down on the sofa, closed his eyes and wondered what happened next. Sam’s crazy had been bad enough to watch, let alone endure. He could only imagine what mental anguish Lucifer would wreak on Cas. Assuming his hallucinations took the form of Lucifer and not one of the many demons, monsters or angels Cas had obliterated in the course of his existence.
***
Wen came back around mid-afternoon. She looked exhausted and pale and had several pieces of paper in her hands. These she placed in the chest without explanation. She made them both coffee and sat down next to Dean on the sofa.
“Does he snap out of it?” Dean asked without explanation eyes on Cas.
“I don’t know. Maybe, I can’t remember.” Wen said absently rubbing her temples. There was a loud clap of thunder. Dean looked outside he hadn’t noticed the weather change.
“It’s heaven. It was a bit of a shock Ariel returning. Some of the angels don’t believe she is who she says.” Wen said with a wave of her hand, referring to the weather.
“Ariel’s your guardian, right?” Dean asked. Wen nodded and took another sip of her coffee.
“That would make her an archangel. You being a prophet and all that,” Dean said absently while he looked over to see if Sam was okay.
“Yes, that’s what some of the angels don’t believe,” Wen rubbed her temples. “She sorts it out and gathers the host for the trial.”
“What trial?” Dean asked although he was pretty sure of the answer. Wen didn’t disappoint.
“Castiel is going to stand trial in heaven. Ariel will come for him in two days.” Wen said matter-of-factly, still rubbing her temples.
The gesture reminded Dean of Leah, the false prophet, the whore of Babylon. There was no question of Wen being a fake prophet though, not looking like this, pale and worn. “Sucks being a prophet,” Dean must have spoken aloud because she stopped rubbing her temples and answered.
“Yes, it does.” Dean turned away from her to look at Sam.
“Sam’s fine, by the way. Clean too, if that helps.” Wen said looking at Castiel. “I suppose, when Sam wakes up, we’ll have to put Castiel to bed.”
“I guess so,” Dean shrugged his focus on Sam at that moment.
“Should I change the sheets? Hmm, yes I think that would be better.” Wen mused oblivious for the moment to Dean’s presence, “I wonder should Castiel bath.”
Dean chuckled softly, “I think he’ll be fine without the bath. Did you really bathe him?”
“Yes. He was cold and, I don’t know, it made sense at the time. I wonder if taking Sam’s crazy will heal his scars.” Wen said vaguely and yawned.
Dean didn’t answer. He looked back to Castiel, still motionless and gazing at nothing. There hadn’t been time to acknowledge or ask about the scarring. Now that he looked more closely at them, his first instinct struck him as correct.
“Cas, look what you did to youself? I wish I could heal your wounds the way you healed my body when you dragged me from hell.” Dean thought to himself. He said something like a silent prayer that Cas recover quickly.
part three
Cas looked from Dean to Sam. He wasn’t an angel, not in way he had been, but neither was he completely human, or for that fact completely mortal. A small part of his grace had survived. Buried deep within his subconscious, he’d felt it stir after Ariel had spoken with him. Once Castiel committed himself to this act of atonement, this sliver of grace had responded with renewed vigour and purpose.
Dean started the ritual hoping that whatever Cas had come up with, would work. He didn’t think he could be held responsible for what would happen if it didn’t. Dean was so focused on getting it right he didn’t notice what Cas was doing until he spoke.
“Now, Sam...This may hurt,”
Dean stopped and looked at Cas, “What are you doing?”
“What needs to be done Dean, helping Sam,” Cas said calmly as he closed his left hand around Sam’s wrist. “I’ll be fine and its better this way. If I can't tell you again, Sam…I'm sorry I ever did this to you.” He placed his right on Sam’s shoulder.
Dean watched in horror as something like liquid fire flared across Sam’s face down his arm up Cas’s arm and face. Both he and Sam cried out in pain. Cas let go Sam, who collapsed against Dean.
Dean manoeuvred Sam onto the bed and checked to see he was alright. Then he turned angrily towards Cas.
“What did you do?” Dean shouted. Cas shrunk away from him towards the fireplace with a look of horror. Dean knew the look and ran his hands through his hair in frustration. He tried a couple times more to approach Cas. Cas just stood in front of the fireplace, motionless and with eyes glazed over staring into space.
“Cas! You dumb ass. Why do you always pull this shit?” He said.
He sat down on the sofa, closed his eyes and wondered what happened next. Sam’s crazy had been bad enough to watch, let alone endure. He could only imagine what mental anguish Lucifer would wreak on Cas. Assuming his hallucinations took the form of Lucifer and not one of the many demons, monsters or angels Cas had obliterated in the course of his existence.
***
Wen came back around mid-afternoon. She looked exhausted and pale and had several pieces of paper in her hands. These she placed in the chest without explanation. She made them both coffee and sat down next to Dean on the sofa.
“Does he snap out of it?” Dean asked without explanation eyes on Cas.
“I don’t know. Maybe, I can’t remember.” Wen said absently rubbing her temples. There was a loud clap of thunder. Dean looked outside he hadn’t noticed the weather change.
“It’s heaven. It was a bit of a shock Ariel returning. Some of the angels don’t believe she is who she says.” Wen said with a wave of her hand, referring to the weather.
“Ariel’s your guardian, right?” Dean asked. Wen nodded and took another sip of her coffee.
“That would make her an archangel. You being a prophet and all that,” Dean said absently while he looked over to see if Sam was okay.
“Yes, that’s what some of the angels don’t believe,” Wen rubbed her temples. “She sorts it out and gathers the host for the trial.”
“What trial?” Dean asked although he was pretty sure of the answer. Wen didn’t disappoint.
“Castiel is going to stand trial in heaven. Ariel will come for him in two days.” Wen said matter-of-factly, still rubbing her temples.
The gesture reminded Dean of Leah, the false prophet, the whore of Babylon. There was no question of Wen being a fake prophet though, not looking like this, pale and worn. “Sucks being a prophet,” Dean must have spoken aloud because she stopped rubbing her temples and answered.
“Yes, it does.” Dean turned away from her to look at Sam.
“Sam’s fine, by the way. Clean too, if that helps.” Wen said looking at Castiel. “I suppose, when Sam wakes up, we’ll have to put Castiel to bed.”
“I guess so,” Dean shrugged his focus on Sam at that moment.
“Should I change the sheets? Hmm, yes I think that would be better.” Wen mused oblivious for the moment to Dean’s presence, “I wonder should Castiel bath.”
Dean chuckled softly, “I think he’ll be fine without the bath. Did you really bathe him?”
“Yes. He was cold and, I don’t know, it made sense at the time. I wonder if taking Sam’s crazy will heal his scars.” Wen said vaguely and yawned.
Dean didn’t answer. He looked back to Castiel, still motionless and gazing at nothing. There hadn’t been time to acknowledge or ask about the scarring. Now that he looked more closely at them, his first instinct struck him as correct.
“Cas, look what you did to youself? I wish I could heal your wounds the way you healed my body when you dragged me from hell.” Dean thought to himself. He said something like a silent prayer that Cas recover quickly.
part three