Fic: Life and Love and Why (Castiel/Sam) - Part Three
**
Chapter Three
**
They sneak out of the camp by way of the trail to the creek. Sam isn't entirely sure what's going on, why they're doing this. To save the life of the thing inside him. But why? It was created by Lucifer's grace. Sam's skin crawls with the thought of having anything of Lucifer remaining, like a stain spreading over him, waiting to sink in and take him over again. But here he is, with Castiel leading the way and Chuck bringing up the rear, sneaking away from Dean because Dean will try to kill what's inside him. Rightfully so. And Sam just can't take the idea of that. Is it him thinking like that or is it Lucifer?
Each of them carry a heavy bag, the basics of survival packed away. Some food, bottled water, blankets. Rope and guns and a tarp. Castiel carries a crossbow for quiet hunting that won't alert any nearby Croats. Sam finds himself staring at the feathers of the arrows that stick out of the bag slung over his back and he blinks when Castiel slows to fall into step with him.
“This is the right thing to do.”
Sam wishes he could be as sure as Castiel sounds. The creek is just ahead of them and they alter course to follow it upstream. Away from the camp but deeper into the forest. Castiel guides them to walk in the water and hopefully hide their tracks from any of the others that might try to follow them.
“It's the insane stupid thing to do,” Sam shoots back. “But here I am. I don't know what it is but-” He drops his hand yet again to his stomach, to the curve that grows more pronounced and feels wrong beneath his hand. Yet, oh, so incredibly right at the same time. He remembers the bullet impacting his chest and thinks what if this thing did it. It saved them both because it wants to live. “I just can't let it die. I'm still not sure I understand how being out here alone will help.” Behind them, Chuck trips on a loose rock in the creek and curses quietly. “Especially with him as back up.”
Castiel glances back at the other man who's managed to right himself. There's a fond look on his face and Sam can't help but copy it. There is something endearing about Chuck. “He's the only one I trust,” Castiel answers simply.
Sam knows that Castiel means with him and he feels a tug at his chest that he can no longer differentiate with Lucifer's leftover grace or his heart. Thank God, Dean can't hear the thoughts in Sam's head. The potential of falling for Castiel? Sam glances back to where Castiel has now fallen behind to encourage Chuck along and thinks it wouldn't really be that bad of a thing.
A cold chill works down his spine at the thought. It feels like the rake of Lucifer's grace and Sam can feel the creature inside him radiating approval.
Maybe they should kill it and Sam feels sick with his indecision.
Soon and he just feels sick. His shoes are soaked from walking through the creek and the night is cold. Sam can't stop shivering and his fingers clutch at his belly like that might help the current rolling. Castiel is up ahead somewhere. Sam can't see him; the sky is overcast, hiding any light the moon or stars might create. Castiel is hard to hear as well and Sam jumps when there's a sudden noise in the trees to his side.
“Come over here you two.”
Sam follows the sound of Castiel's voice until the once angel's hands are on his arm, guiding him forward with what Sam thinks is uncharacteristic care. It would have been five years ago and it still is now.
“We've been walking alongside a cliff, the creek must go into a canyon. There's a cave up here.”
“Thank God.” At least they can stop for awhile though Sam feels embarrassed that he's been so unaware of their surroundings. They're still wading in the creek and the going has been slippery and hard. But Sam hadn't even noticed their downward incline, the rising ground around them. They've left behind the flats of pine trees for rocky uneven ground. Ahead of them, is the sound of the water falling over an edge and into the canyon. Sam might have walked right over it.
But how is he supposed to concentrate on anything but the life inside him? The revelation that he's human and demon and angel all rolled into one. That he's pregnant. It threatens to overwhelm every one of his steps and he's not sure if it helps or hurts that Castiel is the one at his side urging him on.
Chuck is behind them, doggedly following along without complaint. For a moment, he gets close enough that Sam can feel his warmth as well.
Then they all step into the narrow cave entrance.
**
**
A harsh light flashes in front of them and Castiel flinches. His immediate reaction is to protect Sam but he quickly realizes there's nothing there to protect anyone from. The crossbow that's been swinging at his side the entire time and that he jerked up to the ready in surprise, lowers in confusion and Castiel exchanges similar looks of confusion with Sam and Chuck. Then he steps out onto the polished tile floor.
The walls are white. There are pictures with gold frames on the walls. A harp in one corner. “This is the green room,” Castiel says, fissures of fear beginning to travel down his spine. He stays close to Sam and Chuck stays close to them both.
“I thought that was in Van Nuys,” Sam says in a low voice and he ignores Castiel's protest as he steps forward to investigate further into the room. He's still a hunter and he's not going to be pressed back so easily. Castiel lets him go but he doesn't take his eyes off Sam for a moment.
“It's wherever the angels need it to be,” Castiel answers.
“This is so not good,” Chuck says and Castiel glances over to find him backing towards the cave entrance. Of course, it isn't there anymore, a smooth white wall and a gold framed mirror in it's place. Chuck's own startled face stares back at him from it. Even Castiel startles when there's suddenly a fourth figure in the mirror and Castiel spins around to find himself face to face with an angel. Sam is all the way across the room but all of them are armed and he has a gun aimed at the back of the angel immediately. For all the good it will do. Castiel knows this angel.
“Gabriel.” He's certain his eyes betray his shock but Gabriel smiles at him, sardonic and cold.
“Hey, Castiel,” Gabriel greets in a falsely cheerful voice. His gaze sweeps over Chuck before he's losing interest and turning away from them to find Sam. “Ah, now there's the man of the hour. How're you doing, Sam? Getting a little morning sickness yet?”
“What the hell is going on?” Sam demands, his gun still trained on Gabriel.
Castiel can see familiarity in the anger between them and it raises the hairs at the back of his neck. Whatever Sam thinks Gabriel is, he's no match, and Castiel starts making his way slowly around, fixated on getting between them. He gets only a handful of steps before Gabriel snaps his fingers and freezes Castiel's feet to the floor.
“Contain yourself, little brother, I'm not gonna hurt anyone.”
Sam looks between them but before he can talk, Castiel does his best to keep Gabriel's attention off Sam.
“Everyone thought you ran away.”
Gabriel shrugs and strolls over to where Castiel is stuck. A look to the side shows Chuck in the same position though he looks far too scared to do anything anyway. Chuck's strength will never lay in the fight.
“What can I say? The rumors of my death? Greatly exaggerated.” He laughs while Castiel frowns and then puts all his considerable attention back on Sam. “I'm not a Trickster, either, but I guess you figured that out. I just needed a cover while I was down here. Plus, there has to be some perks to being the Holy Messenger of God, right?”
“You've been down here for two thousand years waiting to deliver a message to us?” Castiel asks.
Gabriel shrugs and suddenly Sam's gun and Castiel's crossbow are gone. Castiel can move again. He wastes no time in getting to Sam's side. “More like waiting to make sure a very important package gets delivered.”
Sam's free hand drops to his stomach. Gabriel claps his hands together in apparent delight that they've figured it out. Castiel doesn't care, he's too busy crowding Sam, but his heart is pounding. God didn't forget about them after all and this miracle child is going to be the world's salvation. He's certain this is the message Gabriel has been waiting to deliver.
Gabriel's eyes bore into him. “Something like that, Castiel. That child is going to save what's left of this world. I'm going to make sure nothing happens to it or its parents. And Chuck?” Chuck startles at suddenly being brought back into the conversation. “Chuck is going to write it all down.”
“This was all destiny,” Castiel breathes and his mind races.
“Yup. You two have been picked out since birth for great things.”
Things begin to come together in Castiel's mind. Every turn of their lives laid out before them. Why he of all angels had been the one to find Dean in Hell. The bonds forged, the growth of emotion, his slow walk downwards. All needed to get where he was now, standing next to Sam who's looking somewhere between shell-shocked and angry. Sam always had to say yes to Lucifer or he never could have been a carrier for the child inside him now. Castiel always had to be human or he never would have looked at Sam and wanted him. Dean always had to say no so that right now could happen instead.
Gabriel's expression softens as he watches it sink in. “You can't fight destiny.”
**
**
They're left alone in the green room and for a few moments, all Sam can do is stare at the spot Gabriel was a second ago. The world is coming down on top of him. He remembers the Trickster taking a special interest in he and Dean. An archangel all along? Manipulative son of a bitch!
Sam's hand strikes out and shatters the nearest angel statue as he knocks it from its pedestal. Castiel and Chuck both cry out his name but fear and rage work through Sam in cold pulses, so like Lucifer's. He never should have said yes. This is his fault. But how could he possibly have avoided it?
Another angel statue shatters. Castiel grabs hold of his arm but Sam shoves him so hard he's thrown against one of the large mirrors and it cracks when Castiel's shoulders hit it. It's Castiel's pained blue eyes that stop Sam.
“Did you know about any of this?” Sam demands.
Castiel pushes himself off the mirror and some of the glass comes loose and breaks against the floor. “How can you ask me that?”
“Because you don't seem too disappointed.” There was relief in Castiel's gaze again, as if purpose had suddenly flooded him and Sam remembers that he's speaking to an angel. However far Castiel has fallen, whatever he's done, Sam really shouldn't be surprised to hear what he has to say.
“Don't you understand what this means?” Castiel says, his voice strained as he takes a step towards Sam but Sam raises his hand and Castiel pauses. “God didn't give up on us. This is going to end. All of this, all the people that are left, they're going to survive.”
“And that makes it okay? Half the world is dead!”
“That's better than no world at all!” Castiel yells back and this time, he doesn't hesitate, getting into Sam's face while off to the side, Sam hears the uncomfortable shifting of Chuck's feet. “You haven't lived the last five years, Sam. You haven't seen what's gone on. If you had you'd be happy about this too! I just want it to end. I just want to have a purpose again that isn't getting stoned and banging chicks and having no one care.”
“You don't care that we were manipulated all this time?”
Castiel thins his lips and stares into Sam's eyes. “No.”
Sam turns and walks away.
Across the room, there's a dark hallway that only lights when Sam steps into it. The green room's front room gives way to what looks more like a typical house. Sam passes through a living room and a kitchen. A set of stairs leads up to two bedrooms and a bathroom. Everything is immaculately clean. Perfectly prepared to be lived in. The beds are made. Sam bets that if he looked, the shelves and fridge in the kitchen would be stocked with food.
He rests his hand against his belly. It's going to be a long few months.
The bed is soft, everything smells fresh. There's a window with the blinds open and a breeze drifts through the room. Outside, it's sunny and so perfect that Sam knows it's all fake. It's a good depiction of the rest of his life and he lies in the bed with his eyes open staring at it for hours. He itches to fight this but he's not sure how. The archangel Gabriel is lurking around the corner and Sam already knows from experience that he can't be killed, he can't be swayed.
Eventually the bed dips behind him and Castiel's arm slides around his stomach as he presses up close.
“So what do you think the master plan is all about anyway?” Sam mutters and Castiel's reply is reluctant.
“It's happened before. Every so often, God will cleanse the Earth. It's never pretty. But,” Castiel goes on, trying to instill some hope, “Humanity will always carry on. You and your brother among them.”
“Completely helpless to do anything.”
“Many of the survivors are here because of you.”
“Because of Dean,” Sam argues.
“You're the one who carries their final salvation.” Castiel reminds him.
Sam closes his eyes to the touch of Castiel's mouth against the nape of his neck and doesn't think that's much of a comfort at all.
**
When Sam wakes, Castiel is still asleep at his side, and Sam spends the next several hours doing his best to break out of the green room. Everything he can think of, he tries. But broken windows mend immediately, same with walls, and there are no doors. Sam goes over every inch of the place but there's nothing. Through it all, Castiel and Chuck both just stand back with resigned expressions which only make Sam that much more determined.
They don't need to give in to destiny. Except that slowly, Sam begins to realize they do.
Castiel says it best: “What is written, can't be unwritten.”
Days tick past and Sam sees the truth in that. Every time they ever thought they were defying fate they were doing exactly what fate wanted. It's hard not to be defeated. But he pictures Dean out there, still struggling. Looking for them maybe? He asks Castiel what he thinks.
Castiel answers, “Dean tried to say yes. But Michael wouldn't listen anymore.” Castiel must see the fallen expression on Sam's face. If Dean gave in, what hope do the rest of them have? Castiel smiles. “But,” he says gravely, “Out of ashes, good things do come.”
Sam laughs. “Is that a line you gave to the girls?”
“Sometimes. Hey, but all my 'lines' held a grain of truth to them. We'd really be showing the guys upstairs a thing or two if we enjoyed it all.”
Castiel mouths a trail up the side of his neck and Sam catches a whiff of alcohol. “Are you drunk?”
“A little. Gabriel knows how to stock a kitchen.”
Hopeless. Every single one of them are hopeless.
**
**
Sam stops searching for a way out of the green room. Castiel watches as he slowly gives up, as Sam faces the inevitable facts that all the rest of them already have through the last five years of surviving the end. All they can do is their best to survive. Not everyone has a written path. People like he and Sam and Chuck and Dean do. But all those other survivors? They're still here because they're the ones who wanted it enough. Their lives are great big question marks and those question marks are put there because Sam and Dean and Castiel exist and play the parts the way they’re supposed to.
So Castiel doesn't fight it. He tried that and it lead him down. To a dead end where all that was left was turning around and facing the faceless expectation of their creator. That's fine because at least they've been allowed to have some things along the way.
Castiel's back curves as he bends over Sam, thrusts in deeper to the sound of their ragged breaths in the room. Sam is a bundle of nerves and response. The numbness that Lucifer had left over him lifts in degrees when they do this and by the end, Sam is hard and Castiel slides his palm over Sam's rounded belly to grasp his cock.
They still have this. Castiel still knows what it's like to go to any length for a friend and for family. Things may have changed between he and Dean but he knows Dean is out there right now trying to find them. It doesn't matter that he won't be able to. He knows what it's like to have a purpose and he is going to be one of few angels mentioned by name in any bible. He'll be remembered. Hope and pain continue to swirl together inside him.
“Sam?” Castiel starts in the quiet of their room when their breathing has deepened. He's made sure he's sober this time. He regrets it when Sam rolls his head on the pillow to look at him. “Whether this was...prearranged or not, I still care about you and this.” They've been in the house somewhere around a month and Sam's belly grows rounder all the time. “I do love you.”
“Is that a line?” Sam asks. He's smiling but the emptiness is already starting to come back to his eyes. It will be there for a long time, if it ever goes away.
“No line. Cross my heart. Which I do actually have these days.”
Sam's forehead thumps lightly against his. “I know, Cas.”
**
**
Sam tries to kill the thing - baby - inside him once when Castiel isn't around. Every fiber of him is against it. Something screams in his mind that he can't do this, this isn't him. To destroy a helpless life? That's never what he or Dean have been about. This child knows nothing about destiny. But Sam tries because it's the only thing he can think of that might get them out of this, that might kick fate in the face and let God know that Sam still has a mind of his own.
The thing is that it will probably kill him as well but Sam cares a lot less about that. He's not really sure what he cares about these days, his thoughts are so scattered. He fights on habit, defies the written because that's what he's been trying to do for so long. How is he supposed to jump off that track? What would he even be doing it for?
He hefts the knife in his hand and does his best to fight down the wave of cold he's beginning to associate with the life inside him. It doesn't want to die. Sam knows well before he even grips the handle of the knife that he won't be able to carry through with the move. The knife is like ice, burning his palm.
“It wouldn't work anyway,” says Gabriel from behind and Sam has to fight not to bury the steak knife into Gabriel instead. “I'd have to stop it.”
Sam lowers the knife, resignation sinking in another notch. “You stopped that bullet too, right?”
“Guilty.” Gabriel's smirk quickly sobers and his eyes are almost sorrowful. As if a creature like Gabriel could learn to understand the sort of pain humans go through. Sam remembers the trickster and knows Gabriel is better at causing that pain than anything. “Look, I've spent the last couple thousand years down here and I'm a little attached to the world. So believe me when I say that allowing this to happen is the only way it's going to survive. Until the next cleansing. And the one after that and after that. That's just the way it's gotta be.”
“You actually sound like you care.”
Gabriel shrugs. “Humans are resilient. Gotta give you some respect for that.” A step up to him and Gabriel slings an arm across Sam's shoulders. “Now go focus on what you can actually do something about, huh? Destiny doesn't have to control every little detail.”
Sam finds himself turned and there's Castiel, coming straight for them and looking murderous that Gabriel is touching him. Gabriel winks and then he's gone, leaving Sam alone with Castiel who's already begun to look him over for injury.
“I'm fine,” Sam assures him. Castiel actually hugs him and for the first time, Sam really pays attention to the desperate affection Castiel keeps piling on him. “It's gonna be okay.” Has anyone ever told Castiel that before?
**
It's very much not okay.
Castiel's dick is sliding in quick thrusts between Sam's hand and his stomach. The channel is slick with pre-come. Sam's cock is still wet with the spit of Castiel's mouth from a few minutes ago. Sam can't stop moaning. Every time he opens his eyes, he just sees the focused intensity in Castiel's as he rubs himself off against the roundness of Sam's stomach like this is all that matters in the world at that moment. And at the moment, it is all that matters.
Sam isn't sure of the weeks they've spent here in the green room. There is no more sign of Gabriel though Sam knows he's around, making sure nothing threatens God's newest project. Chuck is often found in the living room. The once ever-present bottle of whiskey is always there again and that usually means Castiel is there as well. They trade swigs while Chuck writes and Castiel reads it all over.
Honestly, Sam's not entirely sure why Castiel is here in the green room at all. As far as Sam can tell, Castiel's part in this is over. He did what he was supposed to. Now it's up to Sam to carry it through and Chuck to document it. Sam doesn't quite know what to do with the idea that the false Trickster is letting Castiel stay out of some skewed act of kindness. Thoughts like that are usually firmly filed in the 'doesn't bear thinking about' file. Those are beginning to take up an entire cabinet on their own. Sometimes they start leaking out.
The best way to judge the passage of time is to watch just how big he gets. The creature inside him is growing. Human or angel or both or neither, it's growing and there's nothing Sam can do about it. Sometimes, Sam can put his hand on his stomach and feel it move beneath his palm. It doesn't feel human to Sam.
He doesn't get sick or feel sore and none of the other symptoms a pregnant woman would get. Instead he gets cold. He wakes freezing, shivering while Castiel tries to keep him warm. Castiel's breaths puff hot over Sam's ear as he speaks against it.
“It'll be okay. I'm here. This is God's will and he won't let anything happen to you.” But they both know that last line is bullshit. Sam would give anything not to be God's chosen. He'd rather be one of the hapless survivors out in the camp or even one of the ones that didn't make it. Why do he and Dean always have to carry this weight?
“I trust you more than I trust God,” Sam says, words coming in bursts. It's like breathing frigid air and he really shouldn't be surprised when he gets worse.
He stops being able to shiver after what feels like forever and what is certainly days though Sam always loses count of them. The sun rises and sets outside the fake windows but Sam doesn't have the ability to keep track. He can't even get out of bed anymore, piled with blankets. Castiel is almost always at his side and Sam hears Castiel talking to himself sometimes.
“I don't know what to do,” Castiel says and at first Sam wonders if Chuck is there but there's only Castiel's voice in answer.
“You're doing everything you can.” Castiel's reply to himself is calm but it quickly turns to frustration as he speaks again.
“I'm an angel, I should be able to do more.”
“Cas?” Sam interrupts the one-sided conversation and Castiel jerks his head around to stare at him. “Who are you talking to?”
A guarded look creeps over Castiel, one Sam hasn't seen much of since the camp. “Jimmy,” Castiel finally answers, much to Sam's surprise. Sam's eyes widen. Jimmy, his vessel? If Sam had the energy, he might be disgusted or angry. But all he can do is sigh and press his forehead against Castiel's shoulder. He doesn't want to ask so he'll just accept it at face value. Maybe Jimmy is still in there, maybe Castiel has lost his mind. Neither seem that far of a stretch.
Castiel's hand smooths down his back, blazing a trail of warmth that quickly dissipates. “Do me a favor, okay, Sam?” Castiel's voice is so hesitant that Sam looks up with a frown. “If when this is all over and I'm not here anymore, keep an eye on him?”
Sam can't answer because all he can think is that Castiel isn't going to be here in the end.
**
**
Castiel rarely leaves Sam's side anymore. Chuck is there to bring them something to eat or to drink but it's only a few more days before Sam stops doing much of either. All he says is that he's cold, that this thing inside him is a mistake. Castiel can't believe that. He pins all his hopes on this, feels it tight in his chest, but he's not naive. He knows the give and take of this world. But maybe this time....
“You're not getting any visions?” he asks Chuck. Sam isn't awake. Sam often isn't awake.
Chuck shakes his head. “Nothing. I guess I'm just supposed to write it down as it happens.”
Does that mean it isn't planned? That they could somehow change things? Castiel knows what Sam would want him to do but Castiel is tired of fighting.
“Me too, Cas.” Even Jimmy agrees with him. If things go the way they want, then things could finally end for the both of them, at least, and both of them have learned how to be selfish.
Castiel sighs, bracing his forearms against the kitchen counter for one tired moment before he steels himself and pushes back. He'll do what he thinks is right, even if that is following the path and what the Winchesters might consider wrong. He finishes off the whiskey he'd been sharing with Chuck and pours a mug of hot tea for Sam to drink if Castiel can make him. Halfway down the hall to his and Sam's room, and Castiel realizes that Chuck is trailing along beside him. Chuck doesn't usually bother, taking each minute of his day like he's being dragged through it forcibly. Nothing like the Chuck Castiel had come to know in the camp.
“What are you doing?” Castiel asks him, casting a confused look back over his shoulder.
“I can sense him.” Chuck's eyes are large and resigned. “Gabriel,” he clarifies.
The mug of tea spills out over the floor as Castiel drops it. His feet thud heavily as he runs to the room, in time with the hard beating of his pulse in his ears.
There's Gabriel standing at the side of the bed, hovering over Sam in a way that immediately gets Castiel's back up. Gabriel's hand is resting on Sam's stomach, his other on Sam's breast.
“Gabriel,” Castiel breathes, warning and curiosity in his voice but Gabriel doesn't glance at him. Castiel takes a half-step forward and then Chuck is grabbing his arm and holding him back. He gives Castiel a subtle shake of his head and Castiel knows. This is it.
A burst of light engulfs the room but Castiel doesn't need to close his eyes. None of them here do and he only tries to see through it, to find the silhouette of Gabriel but he can't see Sam at all. The light streams from him and Castiel can see Gabriel's arm sink inside him stomach. Then Sam starts screaming, his voice mingling with a high pitched whining that almost sounds like an angel. Castiel tries to bolt forward but his feet are once again held fast to the ground and he cries out desperately for Gabriel to tell him what's going on. The thought hits him for the first time that Sam might have to die for the child to live.
Then Gabriel steps back and the light slackens until Castiel can see it all clearly again. In Gabriel's hands is an orb of golden light and as Castiel stares, he expects wings to burst free, crackling with the energy that fills the entire room. But that's not the energy of an angel. It draws a shudder down Castiel's back and the terrifying urge to run. Chuck is nearly pressed up against Castiel's back, too scared to even look. Castiel had never felt the urge to run from it before, only protect it, instinct driving him to ensure it's survival. It doesn't need his protecting now.
The drawn out moment is broken when Sam moans and Castiel snaps his gaze away from the orb as if it had put him under a trance. He's at Sam's side in an instant, hands hovering over Sam's body, unsure if he should touch.
“Sam?” What if Sam is dying? “Sam.” Castiel takes a chance and cradles Sam's face between his hands. For the first time in days, Sam's skin feels warm. Too warm? But then Sam opens his eyes and they immediately lock on Castiel's.
“I'm okay,” Sam says, though he's screamed his voice hoarse.
Relief hits Castiel with enough strength that he hauls Sam up into his arms to hug and Sam's breathless laughter warms Castiel through to his chest.
“But you could still take it easy.”
“Well that's touching.” Gabriel interrupts the moment and both of them look over as one. “But we still have a show to get on with.”
Sam eyes the orb Gabriel holds between his palms. Castiel thinks it's growing and once again, there's a high noise emitting from it. Chuck hasn't moved from his spot in the doorway. If he could, he'd turn and run but he's too resigned to his fate to bother.
“Not the cute little baby you were expecting, huh?” Gabriel says once the silence in the room has dragged on. “You didn't think a human child could save the world this time, did you? You think we could wait for it to grow up? Sam, you were the perfect incubator for something human, angel and demon. Now let’s let this thing go save the world, right?”
Gabriel grins and lifts his arms. He throws the orb with force across the room and when it hits the floor almost at Chuck's feet, making him cry out and stumble back, the green room disappears. On the stone floor of the cave, a creature bursts from the orb and its gaping jaws send a screech that echoes off the rock. As Castiel watches, its fangs grow huge, its claws into daggers, and its tail snaps across the room tipped with a barbed hook that nearly catches Chuck across the throat.
It screams at them once more before whipping around and vanishing from the cave.
Silence hangs around them until Chuck's cracked voice breaks it. “Was that a fucking dragon?”
**
**
Sam sits on the floor of the cave where the bed was only minutes before. Only minutes before, a dragon had taken up his entire vision with a mouth large enough to swallow them all. He settles a hand over his stomach and the only evidence remaining is the slight curve of his belly.
Gabriel is gone again. Castiel and Chuck both kneel to either side of him. Castiel's hand rests on his shoulder and Sam meets his wide shocked eyes and feels the same way. He feels stupid suddenly that some part of him might have hoped Castiel would be right and the child inside him might have meant something new. And he feels worse for Castiel, who glances away and won't meet his eyes again.
“Lets go back to camp,” Sam says, and Castiel and Chuck agree, each of them taking an arm and helping Sam back to his feet.
As they walk, they can hear the distant scream of the dragon.
Sam has to focus on just putting one foot in front of the other, his legs shaky after so long without much movement, muscles worn from shivering. He's not freezing anymore but he's still cold and the camp seems such a long way off. Halfway there and he keeps stumbling, legs threatening to give from under him, while ahead of him the forest dances in his vision.
“I've got you, Sam,” Castiel says, and the next thing Sam knows, the world is tilting to the side and Sam is hoisted up over Castiel's shoulders.
“Jesus... How can such a scrawny little guy be this strong?” Sam's voice is strained from Castiel's definitely boney shoulder digging into his gut. The place a dragon had been just a short while ago. The place a baby should have been.
Castiel just glances back to catch his eye with a bit of a smile.
Sam makes Castiel put him down when they get near the camp, walking in under his own failing power.
A sentry greets them at the perimeter, gun raised and he barks a warning at them to stay where they are. Another obstacle in their way and Sam wants to punch the man. But he's armed and they aren't. Castiel's arsenal has been lost somewhere back in the cave.
“Get out of the way,” Sam bites out.
The man looks between the three of them before fixing on Chuck, the least threatening and probably the best known. “You've been gone for over two months.”
“Is that it?” Sam snorts. It felt like longer to him. The last few days alone felt like a year and he tenses at the shudder that works through him, remembering the way he was sure his life was being sucked away from him. What had Gabriel and Castiel said? Angel and human and demon. Soul and grace. That dragon ripped a hole through him and Sam thinks he can feel its heaving ice cold breaths. Its scream is in his ear as it rips through a helpless group of Croats.
Castiel's hand braces against his back. “I guess dragon's have short incubation periods,” he says, just loud enough for the sentry to hear.
“What?” the sentry asks and then shakes his head sharply. The gun that had begun to lower, snaps back to focus on them. Castiel doesn't seem to care.
“You are going to put that gun down now. Run ahead and tell Dean we're coming. Go.”
One threatening jerk forward from Castiel and the man turns and bolts towards the camp. Sam doesn't blame him. It's not Castiel that puts fear into him. The dragon isn't that far off and its next scream isn't just in Sam's head but ripping through the air. Behind them, a ball of fire explodes high above the line of the trees. Chuck lets out a muffled noise of shock when Gabriel stands among them again while the fireball is still etched against the sky.
“So dragon's are hard to control,” he says with a pointed look at the three of them. “They kill first and ask questions later, you know the type. You might want to get this camp inside and lay low for a few days. And, uh, don't say I never did anything for you.”
Sam stares at the spot Gabriel was for a moment before the warning sinks in. The dragon isn't going to stop and differentiate between infected humans and uninfected ones. Sam is the first one to bolt to the camp, Castiel and Chuck on his heels.
From above, a great shadow covers the forest and blocks out the sun. Sam looks up and for a moment the dragon is above them, unimaginable in size and it cocks it head so it's bloodshot eye meets with Sam's. They lock and for a second that stretches out to eternity, Sam feels a cold pulsing through him and he's sure that this thing he somehow made is going to swoop down and kill him. It doesn't. The eye blinks and the dragon is gone in a flurry of wind that beats down on the trees.
“Run,” Sam says, still in a daze, but the single word breaks it and he says again, “Run!”
They pelt towards the camp where people have already streamed from their cabins and where Dean is trying to gather them all into some kind of order.
“We've dealt with things like this before!” he's barking out at them and Sam highly doubts that any of them have dealt with anything like this. Croats, demons, the devil? Sure. But how are they supposed to deal with an incinerator sent by God?
“Everyone take weapons. If you can grip a gun then you better have one.” Dean's eyes widen as he finally spots Sam and Castiel and Chuck pushing their way through the sparse crowd. There are maybe thirty people left here and Dean wants to turn them on a dragon. Dean's eyes flood with a moment's relief before hardening again. “What the hell is going on?”
“We need to get everyone out of sight,” Sam says, once he's standing in front of the survivors. Castiel and Chuck flank his sides and for the first time Sam feels a little like himself. Right now, he can take on the impossible and he can save these people from a dragon. That's up to him, not God. Dean just gapes at him and Sam tries to put more of that confidence and force he feels into his voice. “You must have had some type of bunker prepared for emergencies right? And I'm pretty sure a dragon constitutes a run and hide emergency. Not stand and fight.”
It's Castiel who answers. “About a quarter mile from the main camp,” he says. “There was an old stone foundation. We built it up and reinforced it to use as a bolt hole in the event Croats ever overran the camp.”
“Then we need to get everyone there,” Sam answers but Dean strides forward to break up the plan.
“Wait a minute. This is my camp and you've been AWOL from it for months. Tell me what the hell is going on.”
The dragon's high-pitched scream in the distance stops an outburst of arguments from among the survivors.
“We'll explain. But at the bolt hole,” Castiel says, and for a period of minutes locks gazes with Dean, eyes so impossibly wide and serious and sober that even Dean gives in and nods.
A few barked commands and the crowd are breaking up, heading to their cabins to gather only what is most necessary. There are hushed conversations and fearful glances up at the sky. Dean marches with Sam and Castiel and Chuck to the weapons store, talking as he goes.
“I want to know what's going on.”
“You're not going to like it,” Sam cautions.
Dean rolls his eyes. “Because I was loving everything up until this point. Tell me.”
Sam glances to Castiel but Castiel shrugs and presses his lips firmly together. The ball is in Sam's court. Hearing this from an ex-angel is the last thing Dean needs. Sam heaves a sigh. “Alright. Um. Short version. We ran into Gabriel - who's also Trickster, by the way - and he said God sent a dragon to...finish purifying the Earth.”
Dean stops dead in his tracks and Sam braces but Dean doesn't say anything, just hunches his shoulders and carries on. “Lets just get these people somewhere safe.”
**
**
The bolt hole is a tight fit for thirty people but it was outfitted for forty so no one complains. Single cots line most of the space. The ten extra get folded down and left outside and everyone tries not to think about the bodies that should have been in them. There's enough canned food here to last them a week. Same with wood though a fire may be too risky. The creek runs close to the bolt hole. Everyone is told to remain inside, save two sentries at the front of the building and a water gathering party that will head out once a day with jugs.
Dean, Sam, Castiel and Chuck have claimed their bunks close together and in the relative privacy of the corner of the building, Sam and Castiel explain what's happened. Dean listens with a dull sort of attention and Castiel worries that this final blow will be too much. But Dean is as resilient as Sam and Castiel needs to stop underestimating him.
“We'll do what we can to keep these people safe then. God doesn't want to wipe us all out, right?” He aims the scornful question at Castiel who ducks his head and glances away.
“No. But only the strongest are allowed to survive that's just...the way it's always been.”
Defeat lingers for a heartbeat and Castiel wants to slink away and find an escape. There's nothing in here though. A handful of pills stowed in the bag Castiel brought, all to be carefully rationed.
“You don't even think this a bad thing, do you?”
Castiel looks up to meet Dean's hard gaze. Whatever used to be between them broke such a long time ago and Castiel suddenly understands that it's not going to be fixed. This time, he doesn't flinch away. “God saves the species by culling the population. Humans would probably collapse the Earth if they were allowed to run rampant. So no, I don't think it's a bad thing. But I am angel.” They all knew he'd never really understand.
Dean doesn't say anything else to him.
**
The ground keeps shaking under them. There are explosions in the distance and screams. Things all the survivors here are used to through bomb drops or military cleansing missions. Still it feels surreal to know what's causing the noise now. In the dragon's path, the Croats and demons are being cut down. Castiel stares out a narrow crack in the wall that serves as a window and hopes that the other camps have had the sense to get inside and lay low.
By the end of the day, the noise and distant clamor of battle has faded. The dragon has moved on to some other area. Castiel can picture it, eyes still open, the great beast sweeping across America. Maybe down in South America next, then over into Australia. As far as any of them know, there's no part of the world that wasn't touched by this. God rarely leaves a stone unturned.
“Do you really believe we have a say in any of this?” Sam asks from behind and Castiel turns to face him.
He doesn't need to think about the answer and nods once. “Certainly. It would be entirely up to you to kill me right now.”
“I don't think I really want to.”
Castiel smiles. “That's your decision then.” Castiel wonders what he would do if their positions were reversed and thinks he'd probably shoot Sam without hesitating. Sam takes up Castiel's place before the narrow window and Castiel finds himself looking over the holed up survivors instead. “Humanity wouldn't survive if it didn't simply want to. God tests you as a whole but not more than you can handle in the end.”
Sam snorts. “Stop talking, Cas. Nothing you say is going to make what's going on okay. Billions of people are dead.”
Castiel finds he doesn't have much to say in response to that anyway but Sam still offers him a smile and touches his dirty hair. It makes Castiel's chest ache for the kindness that manages to remain in Sam's eyes. It's in his arms too, when they wrap around Castiel's shoulders and Castiel thinks that this is backwards, even as he gratefully takes the solid comfort of Sam's embrace. Castiel should be comforting Sam. Sam is the one that's nearly lost his entire family. His entire species.
“I'm sorry,” Castiel manages to say and he really, really is.
**
They stay in the bolt hole for over a week and tempers grow short, the small building grows hot. Arguments break out.
“There's been no sign of the dragon for days!” Not since the first day, even. But Dean always silences these outbursts by simply welcoming anyone who wants to step outside to do so. No one does. They all see the graveness in Dean's and Castiel's eyes and stay where they are.
Castiel spends most of his time just waiting. Sometimes his heart will start pounding so hard he can hear it in his ears and feel it shake him where he sits. Any moment could spell the end of his time here. He knows how these things end.
Chuck comes to him with a quarter full bottle of whiskey. “It's all there is,” he says, apologetically, but Chuck sits on the bunk with Castiel and they share it between them. It's enough to calm Castiel's heart a little and blur the edges of his world. “Scared to go back?” Chuck asks.
Castiel purses his lips and finally shrugs. “I don't know what to feel about it. I'm not sure I remember what it's like up there anymore.”
“I'm scared to go back,” Chuck says, and Castiel looks to him sharply in surprise. “What am I going to do? I didn't have much of a life before.”
“I wouldn't worry too much.” Castiel laughs softly. “The world isn't going to go back to normal. You'll still be Dean's right-hand man. Holding a clipboard and handing out toilet paper.”
“You're his right-hand man.”
Castiel shakes his head. “Not anymore. And he's not ready to trust Sam that much yet. It's all up to you, Chuck.” Castiel pats him sympathetically on the back. Being Dean's right hand is a bitch. Castiel doesn't envy Chuck his new and inevitable position.
Chuck leaves him looking a little happier though.
That evening, it's Castiel's turn to risk the trek down to the creek on a water run. Sam insists on going with him, much to Dean's annoyance who just can't understand why Sam isn't angry. Castiel thinks it's because there isn't much point in being angry. Sam knows as well as Castiel that things between them aren't going to last much longer so why waste time fighting over details that can't be fixed? There's a quiet acceptance between them now that relaxes Castiel as well as pills or drink ever did.
Gabriel is there to greet them by the creek side. “Hello, boys.”
Castiel steps up to him, torn somewhere between bolting towards Gabriel and away. His steps as a result feel heavy. “Is it over then?”
“The dragon did its job. The world is, for now, scoured of evil.” Gabriel looks at Sam. “You'll enjoy peace, at least for the rest of your lifetime.” He pauses and thinks about it. “At least from Heaven and Hell. I'm not saying a thing about humanity. Good luck with that, by the way. Of course, catastrophes do have a way of drawing the population together for awhile in the aftermath. Who knows, maybe you guys will get it right this time and we won't need to start from scratch again.”
The whole world will need to reform. But Castiel hopes that for now the relief of being alive will keep things calm. Sam and Dean and even Chuck deserve a break.
“What about the dragon?” Sam asks, glancing to the sky.
“Gone,” Gabriel says with a dismissive shrug. “Sent to purgatory.”
“Then what are you still doing here?”
Gabriel gives an insulted sniff. “Delivering the message, which I thought you might appreciate. Also collecting Heaven's wayward son.”
The possession in Sam's eyes warms Castiel and the anger in his tone. “What, just like that?”
“Don't sound so surprised,” Gabriel snaps. His patience is running thin. “You knew this was coming, you had time to say goodbye. Castiel,” Gabriel turns from Sam to address Castiel. “Despite all your discretions, you followed your path, and it's time to go home. There's a promotion waiting for you.”
For a moment, Castiel actually wonders if he could stay. But it's past time the supernatural left this world alone. Things will never mend the way they should if Castiel stays, even if he were only a sliver of an angel now. He's not just a sliver. Gabriel's grace reaches out to him and ignites his own until Castiel is blazing with it.
**
**
Sam shields his eyes as the forest surrounding the creek bursts with white light. When he can look again, Gabriel is gone and Castiel is falling to his knees. Sam darts forward to catch the man in his arms and exhausted blue eyes gaze up at him. Sam pauses for a beat, registers who he's looking at now, and helps Jimmy to gain his feet.
“Come on,” Sam says. “Lets get back to the others.”
Jimmy simply nods, tired and bewildered, and Sam helps him stumble back down the path to the bolt hole. The moment they get through the heavy door, Jimmy vanishes among the people. Sam knows he's looking for his daughter. Sam goes to find his brother.
“It's over,” Sam says.
Dean stares, unable to comprehend those words. Sam explains what happened at the creek. When he's finished, Dean's eyes find Jimmy across the room first. Jimmy has his daughter in his arms and Sam feels his throat close up.
“He just left, huh?” Dean snorts. “Well, good riddance.” But Sam isn't missing the pain in his gaze.
**
The doors are opened and for the first time in more than a week, the survivors are allowed back out in the world. It doesn't look any different here. The trees and grass and birds are all untouched. As they trek back to the camp, a deer bolts away. The camp is no worse for wear, the dragon never came back this way. Sam has seen only glimpses of the city beyond, on the drive back after Lucifer had been pulled from his body. He knows how much work lies ahead of them now.
Dean's hands are on his hips as he surveys the camp and he gives a nod to Sam who steps up beside him. “First things first, I guess,” Dean says. The survivors near are listening intently. “Lets celebrate. Chuck! Open the storerooms.”
A hot meal counts as a celebration. A chance to sit outside after a week in. Sam stands back to watch as people quickly divide up and assemble as good a meal as they can manage. He thinks that humans really are resilient.
“It's the first day of the rest of our lives,” a familiar voice sounds from his left and Sam looks across to meet Jimmy's gaze. There's no anger or ill-will there. Just open friendship. Jimmy extends his hand and, surprised, Sam takes it. “It's good to meet under...slightly better circumstances than the past.”
“Yeah,” Sam answers, feeling a little dazed. Then he smiles and tightens his grip on Jimmy's hand. “Yeah. Come on, lets see what we can do to help.”
**
part one // part two