When Satan Takes You Over
Chapter 4
Sam sat on the couch in Bobby’s living room, arms braced on his knees, staring at the worn carpet without really seeing it. The small television was on and Adam was staring at the program, but Sam didn’t think he was really watching it. He’d tried talking to him again, but the younger man refused to listen, so Sam had given up. Hopefully if his plan worked, it would fix that problem as well so…..
Sam sighed. He thought about the letters he had safely tucked in his jacket, ready to give to Castiel to give to Dean and Bobby. It felt inadequate. How do you sum up a lifetime of things to say in just a few sentences? He’d tried to explain to both men why he was doing what he was doing, wanting to make sure that they both understood that they were not to feel guilty or like there was something more they could have done. Sam knew it was futile, but he had to try.
Just as he was about to get up and make his way to the kitchen, a flutter of air blew through the living room and Cas suddenly appeared. Adam jumped.
“Shit, don’t do that!”
Cas ignored him, gazing at Sam. “We have to talk.”
Sam swallowed and nodded, following the angel back out to the porch.
“So….’
“I’ve found someone who will help us,” Cas said without preamble.
“Okay,” Sam fought back the sudden drop in his stomach. “Who is it?”
“No one you need concern yourself with. He is powerful enough to do what you want him to do and is willing.”
Sam’s brow wrinkled at this, but he didn’t question it. “What do we have to do?”
“Are you sure you still want to go through with this?” The angel inquired, looking as though he was trying to pierce through Sam’s brain with his stare.
His Adam’s apple bobbing a few times, Sam finally nodded. “I have to.”
“We must leave, then,” Castiel said. He started to reach for Sam’s forehead, but the taller man jerked back from his touch.
“Woah! Wait a minute. I have to tell Bobby I’m leaving.”
“Do it quickly. I don’t know how much time he has.”
Sam nodded and turned back to the house, going inside to find Bobby at his desk. He stared for a moment, drinking in the tattered ball cap on the man’s head and the ever present whiskey bottle sitting beside a huge, ancient looking tome Bobby was looking at. A lump formed in his throat, but as the older man looked up from his reading, Sam schooled his features and cleared his throat.
“Um…Cas is back and he wants to show me something. He thinks he may know where Zachariah’s holding up. We’re…..gonna go check it out…..”
Bobby wheeled around the desk. “Wait….what do you mean ‘check it out’. You need backup, boy, and I…”
“Hey…Hey….” Sam held up a hand to stop the older man’s words. “We’re only going to look. No going in. Just trying to see what we’re up against.”
The scruffy junkyard owner looked dubious, but he acquiesced. “Alright. Just….don’t do anything stupid. You’re the only one we’ve got left with legs who ain’t tryin’ to give himself to an angel.”
Sam tried to maintain his expression even as his face paled a little as his conscience reminded him that that was exactly what he was about to do. Bobby stared at him moment, his brow furled, but Sam managed to nod and that seemed to satisfy him. The older man turned his wheelchair and headed back behind the desk.
Turning to leave, Sam hesitated. “Watch out for Dean, okay, Bobby?” He turned back for a second to look at the older man.
“He ain’t goin’ nowhere from down there, boy,” Bobby said gruffly, staring at Sam, his eyebrows low beneath his trucker’s cap.
Sam nodded, realizing that he couldn’t say anything else without making the man suspicious so he turned to go.
“Be careful, Sam.” Bobby’s voice came behind him, Sam turned one last time, seeing his surrogate father staring at him with the usual veiled concern he always showed when he and Dean were about to undertake something dangerous. Swallowing against the feelings the look provoked, Sam nodded again and hurried out before those feelings showed on his face.
Castiel was gazing out over the junkyard when Sam appeared, having grabbed his jacket on the way out. The angel turned and at Sam’s shaky nod, reached forward and touched his finger to the young man’s forehead. Sam felt his stomach bottom out and couldn’t hold back a gasp as they landed, closing his eyes for a second as he waited for his stomach to catch up.
When he opened them, he found himself standing near the edge of a cliff overlooking a vast empty field of green. There were occasional dots of color that he realized must be flowers. He could see farmhouses in the distance and craggy outcroppings that looked nothing like he’d ever seen.
“Where are we?” he asked wonderingly, momentarily taken in by the beauty of the place.
“Ireland,” Castiel answered with his usual brusqueness. Sam turned to ask why he had chosen this place, but his question died in his throat as he suddenly realized there was a young man standing next to the angel, his arms crossed. His face held the same impassive expression that usually adorned Cas’, but that was where the similarity ended. He was shorter than Castiel and his clothing was markedly different, just a tee shirt and worn jeans. He looked younger than Sam and had closed cropped hair and regular features. Except for his eyes. They were startlingly blue. As Sam stared, Castiel spoke to the young man.
“You are ready?”
A solemn nod came and Castiel turned to Sam. “This is Jophiel.”
Sam could only nod a little in trepidation at the silent angel, feeling the sudden weight of what he was about to do. He turned out to the beauty of the panorama, feeling his insides starting to quiver with fear.
“It’s time, Sam,” Castiel’s voice came solemnly and Sam turned to him to see the angel gazing at him with something close to compassion. It helped a little and Sam reached into his coat and pulled out two envelopes.
“Will you give these to Dean and Bobby for me?” He held the letters out to the other man.
“Of course,” Castiel intoned, taking the envelopes and putting them into one of the pockets of his trench coat.
“Don’t be too angry at Dean,” Sam said huskily, as his gaze turned once again to the view from the cliff. “He’s going to need his friends.”
“I doubt Dean will allow me to be his friend after this,” Castiel said with a slight note of irony in his voice and Sam felt his lips quirk involuntarily at the sound.
“You may be right,” he said, “But if it works and the apocalypse is stopped, you’ll have a lifetime to make it up to him.”
“Do you think I can ever make up for the fact that I helped his brother kill himself?” The angel’s tone was somewhat incensed, and Sam could see a glimpse of true emotion that Castiel let through at times.
Shaking his head, Sam took a deep breath, trying to shore up his conviction despite the tight knot of anxiety that had taken permanent residence in his gut.
“I should have died a long time ago, Cas. Dean should never have gone to hell. I can’t take that away from him, but I can try to make up for the misery I’ve caused. It’s all I’ve got left.”
Castiel looked at him soberly. “I do not believe Dean will see it that way, but I will help you nonetheless because it may indeed stop what was started.” He beckoned to Jophiel.
Sam felt a shiver of pure dread up his spine, but he tried not to quake as the other angel approached. Castiel nodded at Jophiel and turned back to Sam.
“Goodbye Sam.”
His voice shaking Sam tried to nod. “Thanks for everything, Cas.”
Two fingers touched his forehead and darkness descended.
TBC.....
Sam sat on the couch in Bobby’s living room, arms braced on his knees, staring at the worn carpet without really seeing it. The small television was on and Adam was staring at the program, but Sam didn’t think he was really watching it. He’d tried talking to him again, but the younger man refused to listen, so Sam had given up. Hopefully if his plan worked, it would fix that problem as well so…..
Sam sighed. He thought about the letters he had safely tucked in his jacket, ready to give to Castiel to give to Dean and Bobby. It felt inadequate. How do you sum up a lifetime of things to say in just a few sentences? He’d tried to explain to both men why he was doing what he was doing, wanting to make sure that they both understood that they were not to feel guilty or like there was something more they could have done. Sam knew it was futile, but he had to try.
Just as he was about to get up and make his way to the kitchen, a flutter of air blew through the living room and Cas suddenly appeared. Adam jumped.
“Shit, don’t do that!”
Cas ignored him, gazing at Sam. “We have to talk.”
Sam swallowed and nodded, following the angel back out to the porch.
“So….’
“I’ve found someone who will help us,” Cas said without preamble.
“Okay,” Sam fought back the sudden drop in his stomach. “Who is it?”
“No one you need concern yourself with. He is powerful enough to do what you want him to do and is willing.”
Sam’s brow wrinkled at this, but he didn’t question it. “What do we have to do?”
“Are you sure you still want to go through with this?” The angel inquired, looking as though he was trying to pierce through Sam’s brain with his stare.
His Adam’s apple bobbing a few times, Sam finally nodded. “I have to.”
“We must leave, then,” Castiel said. He started to reach for Sam’s forehead, but the taller man jerked back from his touch.
“Woah! Wait a minute. I have to tell Bobby I’m leaving.”
“Do it quickly. I don’t know how much time he has.”
Sam nodded and turned back to the house, going inside to find Bobby at his desk. He stared for a moment, drinking in the tattered ball cap on the man’s head and the ever present whiskey bottle sitting beside a huge, ancient looking tome Bobby was looking at. A lump formed in his throat, but as the older man looked up from his reading, Sam schooled his features and cleared his throat.
“Um…Cas is back and he wants to show me something. He thinks he may know where Zachariah’s holding up. We’re…..gonna go check it out…..”
Bobby wheeled around the desk. “Wait….what do you mean ‘check it out’. You need backup, boy, and I…”
“Hey…Hey….” Sam held up a hand to stop the older man’s words. “We’re only going to look. No going in. Just trying to see what we’re up against.”
The scruffy junkyard owner looked dubious, but he acquiesced. “Alright. Just….don’t do anything stupid. You’re the only one we’ve got left with legs who ain’t tryin’ to give himself to an angel.”
Sam tried to maintain his expression even as his face paled a little as his conscience reminded him that that was exactly what he was about to do. Bobby stared at him moment, his brow furled, but Sam managed to nod and that seemed to satisfy him. The older man turned his wheelchair and headed back behind the desk.
Turning to leave, Sam hesitated. “Watch out for Dean, okay, Bobby?” He turned back for a second to look at the older man.
“He ain’t goin’ nowhere from down there, boy,” Bobby said gruffly, staring at Sam, his eyebrows low beneath his trucker’s cap.
Sam nodded, realizing that he couldn’t say anything else without making the man suspicious so he turned to go.
“Be careful, Sam.” Bobby’s voice came behind him, Sam turned one last time, seeing his surrogate father staring at him with the usual veiled concern he always showed when he and Dean were about to undertake something dangerous. Swallowing against the feelings the look provoked, Sam nodded again and hurried out before those feelings showed on his face.
Castiel was gazing out over the junkyard when Sam appeared, having grabbed his jacket on the way out. The angel turned and at Sam’s shaky nod, reached forward and touched his finger to the young man’s forehead. Sam felt his stomach bottom out and couldn’t hold back a gasp as they landed, closing his eyes for a second as he waited for his stomach to catch up.
When he opened them, he found himself standing near the edge of a cliff overlooking a vast empty field of green. There were occasional dots of color that he realized must be flowers. He could see farmhouses in the distance and craggy outcroppings that looked nothing like he’d ever seen.
“Where are we?” he asked wonderingly, momentarily taken in by the beauty of the place.
“Ireland,” Castiel answered with his usual brusqueness. Sam turned to ask why he had chosen this place, but his question died in his throat as he suddenly realized there was a young man standing next to the angel, his arms crossed. His face held the same impassive expression that usually adorned Cas’, but that was where the similarity ended. He was shorter than Castiel and his clothing was markedly different, just a tee shirt and worn jeans. He looked younger than Sam and had closed cropped hair and regular features. Except for his eyes. They were startlingly blue. As Sam stared, Castiel spoke to the young man.
“You are ready?”
A solemn nod came and Castiel turned to Sam. “This is Jophiel.”
Sam could only nod a little in trepidation at the silent angel, feeling the sudden weight of what he was about to do. He turned out to the beauty of the panorama, feeling his insides starting to quiver with fear.
“It’s time, Sam,” Castiel’s voice came solemnly and Sam turned to him to see the angel gazing at him with something close to compassion. It helped a little and Sam reached into his coat and pulled out two envelopes.
“Will you give these to Dean and Bobby for me?” He held the letters out to the other man.
“Of course,” Castiel intoned, taking the envelopes and putting them into one of the pockets of his trench coat.
“Don’t be too angry at Dean,” Sam said huskily, as his gaze turned once again to the view from the cliff. “He’s going to need his friends.”
“I doubt Dean will allow me to be his friend after this,” Castiel said with a slight note of irony in his voice and Sam felt his lips quirk involuntarily at the sound.
“You may be right,” he said, “But if it works and the apocalypse is stopped, you’ll have a lifetime to make it up to him.”
“Do you think I can ever make up for the fact that I helped his brother kill himself?” The angel’s tone was somewhat incensed, and Sam could see a glimpse of true emotion that Castiel let through at times.
Shaking his head, Sam took a deep breath, trying to shore up his conviction despite the tight knot of anxiety that had taken permanent residence in his gut.
“I should have died a long time ago, Cas. Dean should never have gone to hell. I can’t take that away from him, but I can try to make up for the misery I’ve caused. It’s all I’ve got left.”
Castiel looked at him soberly. “I do not believe Dean will see it that way, but I will help you nonetheless because it may indeed stop what was started.” He beckoned to Jophiel.
Sam felt a shiver of pure dread up his spine, but he tried not to quake as the other angel approached. Castiel nodded at Jophiel and turned back to Sam.
“Goodbye Sam.”
His voice shaking Sam tried to nod. “Thanks for everything, Cas.”
Two fingers touched his forehead and darkness descended.
TBC.....