A Severe Mercy (PG-13)
Picks up immediately after More Things in Heaven and Earth.
Summary: The angels' endgame is afoot. Will Cazadore's finest prevail, or will twisted destiny gain the upper hand at last?
A Severe Mercy
By Enola Jones and San Antonio Rose
Meg was sulking in the ER examining room when the nurse walked in. “Ms. Masters? You have a visitor.”
“I do?”
“Says he’s your lawyer.”
“My....” Her eyes went even wider. “Yes, yes, send him in!”
The nurse nodded and left, and a moment later Crowley strolled in. “Well, well,” he said.
“What is it, Crowley?”
Crowley turned to the policemen who were guarding her. “May I have a moment alone with my client, please?” Once they’d left the room, he turned back to her and whispered harshly, “What the hell happened?!”
“The Winchesters happened! Sam is in full control of his powers - and oh, he is more powerful than we ever dreamed - and Dean is in full control of his powers and-”
“Dean?! What are you on about?”
“He’s got powers, too! And he’s as powerful as his brother!”
“That’s not possible! Aside from the vessel lineage, there’s nothing out of the ordinary about Dean. He’s as human as his father!”
“But he did this to me!” She gestured down at herself. “They worked together! They... they....” She suddenly broke off, ducking her head and swiping the infuriating tears from her eyes with her arm.
Doing so let Crowley get a glimpse of the binding link. “Bloody hell,” he breathed.
“I know,” she sighed.
He looked at her more closely. “You’re human again.”
“I know!”
“Of all the blessed luck,” he snarled. “I had a feeling it wouldn’t work, but I never imagined this. What about Ruby?”
“Gone,” she sighed. “The meatsuit is all that’s left.”
He swore bitterly. “What the hell do we do now?”
“I don’t know.” And tough Meg Masters started to cry. “They’re gonna put me in jail.”
Crowley rolled his eyes. “Women’s prison should be a crossroads gold mine, ducks. Line up enough deals, and I’m sure Alastair will make things easier for you once you get back downstairs. Meanwhile, I’ve got to deal with bloody Uriel.” He paused. “Wait, you said Sam’s more powerful than we dreamed. Apart from... all this... what did you see?”
Trembling, she stuttered out what she’d seen. “His eyes... yellow as my father’s. He was telekinetic and he held me to the wall while... while Dean....”
“What did Dean look like? Did he chant, did he gesture?”
“He gestured... his eyes white from corner to corner...”
Crowley inhaled sharply. “That’s it. That’s enough for our hunter to kill both of them.”
Meg stared at him, eyes huge. “I... I still did it?”
“I can’t be sure yet, but... yeah, I think you did.”
Despite her situation, Meg began to smile.
“Listen, tell you what... I’ll make you a deal. One year, all the deals you can line up in the prison, and I’ll make sure Alastair gives you the chance to turn back as soon as you’re downstairs again. And a good go at Dean.”
She smiled and opened her mouth - a crossroads deal had to be audible, not just a nod. And her throat closed up.
He frowned. “What?”
She cleared her throat. “Sorry, I don’t know what happened. I said -” and her mouth formed the word, but no sound emerged.
He sighed. “Bloody marvelous. No-escape clause. Right, well, I’ll... I’ll see what options there are that wouldn’t require your audible consent.”
“Thank you,” she said in relief, surprising them both. That was not a phrase in a demon’s vocabulary.
“I’ll be in touch.” Crowley walked to the door, then paused within earshot of the guards. “I’ve got a friend in the DA’s office, by the way. I’ll see what kind of deal he can offer you.”
“I’ll be waiting,” she called back. “And I’ll take your other matter under advisement.”
He nodded and walked out of the hospital.
She fell back on the pillow and closed her eyes. “Yes,” she said, frowning. “Oh, NOW I can say the damned word...”
Uriel decided to check up on his demonic lackeys and appeared in Crowley’s mansion. The room was empty when he arrived, but before he had a chance to bellow for the demon, he appeared.
“What do you want?” Crowley grumbled.
“To see how you are progressing. You seem agitated.”
“We’ve been handed a hell of a twist, mate.”
His eyes narrowed. “Oh?”
“We got the lads out of Cazadore right enough. And I wish we hadn’t.”
“Explain.”
“Lost two of my best girls tonight. To them. One’s back in Hell, and the other’s trapped as a human. Bound and gagged. Offered her a deal, and she couldn’t consent.”
Uriel’s eyes narrowed. “To do this... would take immense power.”
“Precisely. But the Winchesters did it between them.”
The bald head shook. “Between-but Dean has no powers.”
“That’s what I thought. But my informant says his eyes go white just like Sam’s go yellow.”
“Then your informant is wrong.”
“I doubt it, mate. They left her memory for a reason.”
Uriel looked visibly shaken. “Dean. Winchester. Is. Powerless. This is a fact. I don’t know what happened to your informant, but -”
“She had no reason to lie, you bloody git,” Crowley roared. “Not to me. Not about this. And she couldn’t sell her soul to save her life.”
“She could not consent to ...” His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “This is very unusual.”
“You’re telling me. The question is, can we use that to get Campbell to kill ’em both?”
“I don’t know.” And he was gone.
Crowley sighed and poured himself a double. At times like this, he half wished he were still human enough to be able to get blind drunk.
Of all the war-related dreams he could have had, Samuel supposed the Ardennes was hardly the worst. The night he was dreaming about was cold and quiet and dark, but he was tense, waiting for some sign of the Krauts.
“Your dreams are strange, Campbell.”
Samuel jumped. “Uriel! What the hell?”
“Nice place. The Ardennes.”
“Wasn’t so nice in ’44. What do you want?”
“I have proof that the Winchester brothers are not human. Either of them.”
“You’re joking.”
“I do not joke.”
“What proof are you talking about?”
He told the story.
Samuel nodded thoughtfully, as if he didn’t already know that Sam and Dean hadn’t left Cazadore. “So what do you want me to do about it?”
“What you were born to do. Hunt.”
“I dunno. If they can render demons powerless, seems like they’re on the right side.”
“You are a hunter. They are not human. Hunt them.” He drew close, sneering. “I’ll not tell you again.” And he was gone.
Samuel sighed. “Castiel? Did you hear that?”
The youngest angel stepped into the light. “I did.”
“Well, I know what I’m not doing with that information. Question is, what should we do?”
“Nothing.”
Samuel blinked. “Nothing at all? Shouldn’t we... prepare somehow?”
“We will. You get to know your grandchildren.”
He sighed. “Okay. Just wish there were more I could do to protect them.”
“We’ll see.”
“Hey, what time is it? I’m kind of wondering if I ought to go ahead and wake up.”
“Go ahead. You need to use the bathroom, anyway.” And he faded out.
Samuel snorted and woke up.
After taking care of biological necessities, Samuel was still unsettled enough by his latest encounter with Uriel that he didn’t think he could sleep. So he read one of the biographies Daphne had brought him from the library-it was still hard to get his head around “President Ronald Reagan” being more than a joke on Laugh-In-until it was clear that he wouldn’t be getting back to sleep before the kids left for work. Deciding that the least he could do was to make himself useful, he went to the kitchen and started making breakfast.
Dean padded in about halfway through. He nodded a greeting and went straight to the coffeemaker.
“What,” Samuel teased, “can’t talk before you’ve had your coffee?”
He grinned at him and winked.
Samuel chuckled. “Got another visit from Uriel last night. Apparently, neither you nor Sam is human. And somebody forgot to remind him that if I were the type of hunter who killed all supernatural beings that aren’t human, I’d have shot him on sight.”
Dean laughed, then frowned. He pointed at himself in clear confusion.
“He had it on good authority that you and Sam turned a demon back into a human.”
Dean’s eyes went huge.
“Sounds like Michael left a couple of details out of the story when he told it to us,” Samuel added with a twinkle.
“M-hm!”
“But at least now I know which side I’m on.” And he started quietly humming “The Campbells Are Coming.”
Dean frowned at that tune.
Samuel looked around and saw Dean frowning. “Yes, Dean, I know you’re Winchesters. But you’re Campbells, too. And family is worth fighting for.”
Dean smiled and nodded.
“Would you drink your coffee so we can have a normal conversation?”
Dean laughed and drank his coffee, sitting down across from his grandfather.
Meanwhile, across town, John came downstairs to the bewildering sight of Michael fixing him breakfast.
“What’s going on?”
“Good morning, John,” Michael said with a nod. “I have much to tell you about what happened yesterday, and I thought it most expedient to brief you while you break your fast.”
“Okay....”
Michael smiled and brought him a cup of coffee. “Please, sit down. The rest should be ready in a moment.”
“Archangel food services,” John quipped as he sat down.
Michael actually laughed. “We were created to serve, John, not to rule. These last days, I have found the custom of showing honor and hospitality by serving food... intriguing.”
“Many angels seem to feel it’s their duty to rule us.”
“Then they have followed Lucifer’s error, whether they realize it or not.” Michael set a plate of perfectly cooked pancakes, bacon, and hash browns in front of John.
John moaned slightly at the taste of the hash browns. Just charred on the ends - just the way he loved them.
“Is it to your liking?”
“Yeah - thank you!” He gestured. “Share it with me.”
Michael smiled. “Very well, I shall.” He dished up another serving for himself and sat down across from John.
They ate in silence for a few moments, then John said, “So, fill me in.”
Michael did so, including Castiel’s information about the result of their masquerade as Sam and Dean. “Samuel is at last convinced of the truth,” he concluded. “And it will be only a matter of time before Uriel loses his patience entirely.”
“That’s what you’re trying to induce, isn’t it?” John asked. “Why?”
Michael sighed. “I do not wish there to be further conflict among my brothers, John, but this folly needs to end. And it needs to end quickly and decisively. Hell needs to know that your family is off limits, that Lucifer’s plan will not succeed... and if, as you say, there are other angels who have accepted Zachariah’s false teachings, I need to show them that Zachariah’s defeat was not mere luck. Uriel has not simply stepped out of line; he is actively working against Father’s will. And I will not allow him to continue.”
“Not to mention he seems beyond racist.”
Michael snorted. “Species-ist, I believe might be the better term. Castiel relayed the ‘mud monkeys’ remark to me-I had no idea he harbored such hate.”
“I had no idea angels could hate.”
“We can-but we ought to hate only evil. Humans may be fallen, but you are still Father’s creation, and as such, you retain some measure of goodness.”
“And Uriel hates us.”
“For no clear reason that I can see. I suppose Lucifer’s lies took root in his heart long ago, even if he did not support Lucifer’s rebellion.”
“I’m just glad he’s in the minority.”
“A minority of one, I hope. I shall know more when I return to Heaven when this is over.”
John nodded.
They ate in silence a moment longer. Then Michael sipped his coffee thoughtfully and said, “I wonder which would cause more comment in this town, my returning on occasion or my failure to return.”
“Your failure to return,” John said without any hesitation.
Michael nodded. “That’s what I thought. I’m sure Gabriel and Castiel wish to remain.”
“Bill’s part of this town.”
“Yes. And part of your sons’ family.”
John nodded.
“I think, though, that I should discourage too many other visitors of my kind. Two brothers appearing in a short time might not cause much comment, but more than that certainly will!”
“Agreed!” Then he paused. “Do you think that was wise, though? Putting the word out there that both my boys have powers?”
Michael chuckled. “Dean does have powers, John, just not of the sort I displayed. And his greatest strength?”
“You’ve got my attention.”
“He loves. Deeply.”
John just stared. “... that’s a strength?”
“Without that love, John, Sam would become precisely what Azazel wanted him to be.”
After a moment of silence, he asked, “So what are his powers?”
Michael chuckled again. “Observe him for a while. And do not limit yourself to the idea that a power must be as showy as Sam’s visions or Josh’s sensitivity.”
“I’m blind when it comes to my sons, Michael. Please - just tell me.”
“There is a reason Lucifer singled Dean out as the Righteous Man. His choices might have obscured that reason had he not come here, but since his decision to follow Christ, it is far clearer. Your son is a true servant of Heaven.”
John’s fork clattered to his plate. “DEAN?”
Michael nodded.
“Holy -”
“I wouldn’t finish that thought,” said Gabriel, appearing at one end of the table with a Dublin Dr Pepper in hand.
“Morning, Bill.”
“Morning. And Mike’s right. Not too visible in most scenarios, apart from his being a good egg, but up against the right enemy, Dean will succeed where no one else could.”
John considered a few scenarios he’d seen and nodded. Then he sighed and stood up. “Well, I have to get to work.”
Gabriel checked his watch and sighed. “Yeah, so do I.”
“Will we see you after?” John asked Mike.
“As soon as I have more to tell you, I’ll find you.”
John nodded.
The day passed slowly. Too slowly for Uriel’s liking. He kept waiting for the shockwaves of Sam and Dean’s deaths, but they never came.
Finally he realized he was going to have to confront Samuel again. He tried to dreamwalk and found the way - blocked.
That made no sense. Why couldn’t he get through?
He tried and tried - but he could not get through. So he appeared in Crowley’s mansion.
“What now?” Crowley snapped.
“Samuel Campbell. I can’t get through to his dreams.”
“Maybe he isn’t asleep.”
“Have a care.”
“I don’t deal in dreams, mate. What do you expect me to do?” When Uriel didn’t answer right away, Crowley continued, “Maybe it’s time you got your own hands dirty for a change. Those denim-clad nightmares are too powerful for my lot. You’re the Angel of Death. Kill ’em yourself.”
He smiled and vanished, headed to Cazadore. But he very nearly flew straight into a wall of holy fire. He landed to find a pagan goddess standing in his way.
She smirked coldly at him ten times over. “Sorry. No traitors allowed.”
“Stand aside, Makhakali,” he said, deliberately insulting her by mangling her name.
“I do not take orders from you, Uriel, any more than I took them from your superior. You shall not pass.”
“I shall pass and you shall die.”
“No. If you pass, you shall die. Just as Zachariah did.”
“I am the Angel of Death, remember?” He reached a hand toward her, intent on ending her.
“And I am Death’s daughter.” Her own hand darted up his sleeve and came out with his sword in it.
Sudden applause startled Uriel. “Nice work, toots!” said another voice. “Mexican standoff?”
Kali kept smirking at Uriel with nine heads while one turned toward the newcomer. “Are you just going to watch, Loki, or are you going to help?”
“Oh, I’m enjoying myself.”
Kali stuck her tongue out at Loki and lunged at Uriel. Uriel just stood his ground, confident his touch would end her.
Until she cut off his hand.
He gasped, staring down at the bleeding stump.
“Let this teach you the meaning of mercy,” she snarled. “You will get no second chance from me.” And she vanished with his sword.
He shook, looking at Loki. “... you. You’re behind this.”
Loki simply snapped his fingers, and bandages appeared on the stump. When Uriel looked up again, Loki was gone.
“... GET BACK HERE!”
Silence.
Only the roar of holy fire, surrounding Cazadore like a castle wall.
Uriel looked at the holy fire, then did what he perhaps should have done months ago. He bowed his head. “Am I wrong?” he whispered.
“You are,” said an unfamiliar voice filled with too familiar power.
He whirled, holding his stump close to his chest. “Who...”
“Hello, Uriel,” said the blond. “You’ve been avoiding me, I think.” And massive wings unfolded from his back.
“... Michael?”
The blond head bowed once in acknowledgment.
“We... We did this for you...”
“No,” Michael replied quietly, but the stern disapproval of his face made it sound like a rumble of thunder. “You did this because you hate humankind. You did this because you think you know better than Father. You did this because you listened to Lucifer.”
“No! We did this to destroy Lucifer!”
“So you believe. But it is not Father’s will, Uriel. Not now. Not like this.”
He just gaped. “But... Zachariah....”
“Zachariah was fallen.”
His face hardened. “Then... so am I.”
“It is not too late, Uriel. Repent. Stay this madness.”
“I do not want your mercy,” Uriel snarled. “The merciful are weak and easily beguiled.”
“You are saying our Father is weak and beguiled?”
“Father is gone. There can be no other reason for the evil that walks now-evil that grows from the heart of humans. Earth is our responsibility now. It is time to purge it with fire, to end Lucifer once and for all.”
Michael just looked at him.
Then he started to laugh.
“It’s NOT FUNNY!”
“Yes. It is. Father is gone. Are you certain of that?”
“Zachariah said so. And consider-”
“Finish that sentence, brother.”
“Consider the last century. So many wars. Lenin. Stalin. Hitler. Mao. Pol Pot. Hussein. Bin Laden. So many dead at the hands of so few, so many diseases that should not have affected more than animals cutting down thousands of humans because of their own depravity. How can anyone see Father at work in these things, mercy or not?”
“Free will.”
Uriel scoffed. “Free will is an illusion.”
“Zachariah says.” Michael managed to lace those words with all the mockery he could. John and Dean would have been so proud.
“Look at the Winchesters! How many ‘coincidences’ led to their even being born?”
“You mean to tell me,” Michael said evenly, “that human life itself was created just so these brothers could be born?”
Uriel’s mouth opened and shut wordlessly a couple of times before he snapped, “That was an example.”
“I do believe, dear brother, that is an example of being hoist on your own petard.” Michael was grinning again, genuinely amused. Uriel noted absently that he’d given this almost-Dean body Sam’s dimples. “You’re grasping at logical fallacies to underpin an argument that you have already lost.”
Uriel snarled. “Stop laughing at me.”
“You are acting like a fledgling, little brother.”
Uriel’s wings flared out in annoyance. “Fledgling? FLEDGLING?! WHO is acting like a fledgling, you... you irreverent FOOL?! Consorting with the Queen of Darkness and the Prince of Tricks? DEFENDING the WINCHESTERS? And I am the fledgling?!”
“Father is in Heaven. All is right with the world. It is you who is making it wrong. It is you who is playing into Lucifer’s plans.”
“If I had my sword, I would strike you down for that insult here and now, archangel or no.”
“No. You wouldn’t. Because you know - deep down - we are speaking the truth.”
Uriel snarled again and fled the field.
Michael shook his head. He would learn.
Once Uriel was gone, Gabriel appeared once more, with Castiel at his side. “What do you think?” Gabriel asked. “Will he repent? Zach was beyond stubborn.”
“Uriel still is,” Michael sighed.
“Will he return tonight?” Castiel asked. “Or should we plan to confront him in town?”
“Plan for both.”
Gabriel nodded grimly. Castiel-sneezed.
Gabriel looked at him in alarm. “Are you getting a cold, kiddo?”
Castiel sniffled, dragging his sleeve along his nose. “Think it’s just the smoke.”
Frowning in concern, Gabriel put a hand on his shoulder and eased the inflammation in his sinuses.
“Thanks,” he said, smiling big and broad - so wide his nose wrinkled adorably.
Gabriel shifted his hand to Castiel’s other shoulder and pulled him into a rough side hug. “What am I gonna do with you, huh?” he teased.
“Well, you’re pretty well stuck with me....”
Gabriel laughed at that.
Michael frowned. “That should not have irritated your nose.” He touched Castiel’s forehead.
Castiel sniffled. “Well, it did.”
“Only because it was already irritated-I believe you are getting a cold. Would you like me to heal you?”
“Yes.” He looked ruefully at Gabriel. “But I don’t get sick....”
“Perhaps not before you took this form,” said Michael thoughtfully as he drove out the virus. “But this body lacks many of the usual human antibodies against sickness. I think-” He frowned for a moment, then laid his whole hand on Castiel’s chest and strengthened his immune system. “There. That should be protection enough for now.”
One quick cough, then Castiel smiled. That same loopy smile he shone on Gabriel.
Michael smiled fondly at him, then turned to Gabriel. “Now. Kali?”
“What about her?”
“Why is she here?”
Gabriel smiled. “She’s guarding Cazadore from angels.”
Michael raised an eyebrow.
“I had her guarding against Zachariah.”
“You had her?”
“Mutual agreement.”
“On what grounds?”
“We’re old friends, Mike.”
“Gabriel....”
“I’m serious.”
“What friendship could Loki have with Kali?”
He smiled. Broadly.
“You are pathetic,” said Kali, appearing beside him and brushing a kiss on his cheek.
“Have you met my brothers?” Gabriel asked, putting an arm around her.
“We haven’t been introduced.”
“This is Castiel... and Michael.”
“How do you do?” she said politely, if coolly.
“Relax,” Gabriel smiled. “They’re firmly with me.”
“I assumed as much, since they’re standing here and not fighting with you. And Castiel, I believe, I’ve seen around town.”
“Cousin Carol from Sandusky,” Castiel smiled.
She chuckled.
All eyes turned to Michael.
“Cousin,” said Michael flatly.
“It was a cover people believe,” Gabriel said.
Michael just stared at Kali for a long moment. She stared back.
Finally, Michael took a step toward her. “You have helped my brothers protect this town, and you have not betrayed their secrets.”
She inclined her head in his direction. “And they have not betrayed mine.”
“Then for that I thank you, and all else I leave between the two of you-and Father.”
“Michael.” She held out her hand to him.
Uriel’s sword rested in her fist.
He smiled a little and took it from her. “Again I thank you.”
“And I thank you - for turning out to be nicer than the bastards who did this in your name.”
“Their actions were their own. They did not consult me-indeed, they probably knew I would not approve.”
Kali nodded again.
Michael sighed. “So. Now we wait.”
“And I believe Dean’s house will be more comfortable.” Kali waved a hand, and the holy fire parted long enough for all three angels to pass through.
They arrived to find all four Winchesters in bed with John keeping watch.
“John?” Gabriel whispered. “What are you doing here?”
“I had a nightmare. Uriel was here.”
“He was. Mike just ran him off.”
He nodded. “Well, you all are staying, right?”
“Of course.”
“I’m heading to bed, then. Reported in earlier, Frank knows I’m over here.”
“Okay. Rest well.”
He clapped Gabriel on the shoulder. “Night, Bill. Cas. Mike. Carol.”
The others nodded. “Good night, John.”
He headed upstairs to Dean’s guest room - where he stayed when he was there.
Gabriel watched him go. “A nightmare?” he whispered. “John doesn’t usually have prophetic dreams.”
“What are you whispering about?” Sam asked from behind him.
Gabriel startled. “Don’t DO that!”
“Nice to know I can startle an archangel,” Sam laughed.
The angels laughed as well, and Kali shook her head and tried not to smile.
Uriel blew into Crowley’s mansion like a whirlwind, cradling his maimed arm against his chest.
“You’re getting blood all over the Persian, mate.”
Uriel simply snarled.
“Looks like you lost something.”
“Save it, Demon.”
His head tilted. “No can do - can’t save that one. It’s gone. I can cauterise it, though.” He snapped his fingers and fire poured over the limb, healing the stump instantly.
“Thank you,” Uriel gritted out. “But no more jokes.”
“Can’t promise that. And I didn’t do it for the thanks - or even out of the goodness of my heart.” He took a sip of his Craic. “I didn’t want angel blood contaminating my home.”
“I did not come here to bleed on your precious carpet. I need your help in getting into Cazadore.”
Crowley’s snarled reply contained a pretty direct suggestion of what Uriel could do with himself.
Uriel loomed over him. “Michael is working with Kali and Loki to keep me out. Unless you wish to face the wrath of your masters for your failure, you will help me.”
“I can handle my ‘masters’, thanks.”
Uriel reached out with his left hand and slowly began to pull the demon out of his host. Crowley choked.
“I will send you to Hell, make no mistake. Unless you aid me.”
Crowley nodded wildly.
Uriel released him. “Now. I need some way to trap or banish Kali, at least, if not Loki, as well as a means of putting out holy fire. Michael I can handle well enough on my own.”
“I’ll get right on that,” Crowley choked out, but the sarcasm went over Uriel’s head.
“Yes. You will. You have already tried my patience enough.”
He nodded.
Uriel left in a gust of wind, as if he’d actually flounced his wings.
“Bloody bastard,” Crowley growled.
“Why the hell didn’t anybody wake me up?!” Samuel demanded at breakfast the next morning.
“Are you kidding?” Daphne shot back. “Loud as you were snoring, we were terrified to get near you!”
John snorted a half-smothered laugh into his coffee cup.
Gabriel didn’t bother to smother his laughter. Neither did Castiel. Dean just grinned - it was too early. And Kali just looked at them all like they were amusingly stupid.
Sam and Tricia stumbled in just then. Sam frowned. “I think we missed something.”
Michael chuckled. “I was just about to explain to your grandfather that his services were not required last night.”
“Morning, guys.” Sam moved to Dean’s side and pulled his hands in close to his chest, ‘whispering’. Full house again?
Dean’s raised eyebrows said it all.
“So what’s the plan?” Daphne asked.
Michael thought for a moment before letting a sword slip out of his sleeve and handing it to Dean. “This is Uriel’s. Should he find a way past our defenses, you may need to use it against him. Beyond that, I fear we must wait to see what each day brings.”
Dean took it, nodding.
“So what do archangels eat for breakfast?” Samuel asked.
Michael laughed. “Whatever our friends are eating!”
After breakfast was cleared away, Samuel asked, “Michael... walk with me?”
“Of course.”
They moved out to the yard and after a moment, Samuel asked, “Can you send me back to wherever I came from?”
Michael frowned. “You are asking me to kill you.”
“I died 35 years ago, Michael.”
“Yet however unjust his reason for doing so, Uriel returned you to life. I see no need for you to die again so soon-and your death will grieve your grandchildren.”
“They don’t know me. I don’t know them.”
“You are family.” Michael paused. “And you will not find Mary there.”
“She’s not in Heaven. She’s not in Hell. She’s not trapped anymore. Where is she?”
Michael held up a hand. “I am not free to tell you that. But I can tell you that she will be here by this time next year.”
“Here. On earth.”
“In Cazadore.”
Samuel stared at him, his jaw lowering.
“I cannot say more. But Samuel, this family accepts you. You have two fine grandsons, two fine granddaughters. They will have remarkable children of their own. Will you walk away from them now?”
“I don’t belong here.”
Michael quirked a wry smile, very like Dean’s. “Neither do I, yet I would stay if I could.”
Samuel sighed and ran his hand over his forehead. “What would I do here?”
“You need not settle in this town. There will always be a need for good hunters. Or you could-retire. Learn to live in community again.”
“If I leave this town-I’m dead.”
“Then stay and train the young hunters. Provide research, as John does. Surely you have knowledge and experience that would be of benefit.”
“Yeah... I do.”
“Sam and Dean are active in the community in many ways now, but they will need to scale back once their children are born. You can fill that gap.”
“What can an old coot like me do?”
“Teach. Write. Train. And you need not focus only on hunting. They give firearm safety lessons for people wanting a concealed handgun license-you can do that easily. Record your memories of the Second World War; too many of your fellows have died without doing so. Perhaps the better question is, what can’t you do?”
“All right.”
“I know it may be hard to adjust to all the changes, but you can do it. Humans are almost infinitely adaptable, I find. And you don’t have to face the challenge alone.”
“No?”
“You have your grandchildren. And Cazadore.”
“They don’t know me. How can they love me?”
“Because they love. Full stop.”
Samuel stared at him and looked down at his feet.
Michael put a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Even my brothers could learn from this family, Samuel. I know I have.”
“You? But lore says you know everything...”
Michael scoffed and dropped his hand. “Only My Father knows everything. Angels are finite. And, as you have seen with Uriel, we are also fallible.”
“But you’re not an angel. You’re an archangel.”
“That does not make me God.”
“Near as, according to the lore.”
Michael shook his head. “Perhaps as near as a created being can be. Not that near. I have limits, just as does the smallest particle of matter. And does the lore not recall the meaning of my name?”
“No. You are Michael.”
“In Hebrew it means ‘Who is like God?’-a rhetorical question.”
“So your name is basically taking the mickey out of the lore.”
Michael grinned. “If you like.”
“Huh.”
“Human lore is not always reliable. Only My Father’s Word stands forever.”
“I’m... I don’t believe, Michael. Not like I think the others do.”
“From what Castiel tells me, Dean had only the barest mustard seed of faith for many years. Yet you see what he is like now.”
Samuel sighed. “He’s hardly a Bible-thumper. It’s more a... quiet faith.”
“Faith need not be showy to be effective. ‘He has shown you, oh man, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you but to act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God?’”
Samuel shook his head.
“Do not guard against faith, Samuel. That is the key. If you will let yourself be convinced by the evidence, the rest will come in due time.”
He shook his head again. “Too soon.”
“Give it time.”
“Need somewhere to live.”
Michael smiled. “When we have seen to Uriel, I’m sure Sam and Dean will be glad to help you look.”
Samuel turned back to the house. Michael let him go. He could tell the man was overwhelmed.
Samuel had rarely felt like crying, but he certainly did now. All this... it was just too much.
Daphne met him on the back porch, one hand resting lightly on her stomach. “Grandpa? What’s wrong?”
He just shook his head.
“Can I get you anything?”
“Just... leave me be awhile. I got a lot to think about.”
She nodded. “Sure. We’re all planning to stay close today, but... we can give you space. If you need anything, though, just holler, okay?”
“I will. Thank you.” And he headed into the house.
Daphne followed, and though the kids looked at him questioningly, Daphne evidently signed something behind his back that prompted looks of understanding. No one actually spoke to him.
He definitely had a strange family.
He went upstairs for a while, and when he came back down, everyone was gone. There was a note on the coffee table, however:
Grandpa, we’re all next door. Take all the time you need. There’s a tunnel through the basement, if you don’t want to go outside. - D
“A tun-” He blinked. “Huh!”
Feeling curious, he went to the basement and found the tunnel. The walls were covered with wards in all kinds of languages. He examined them carefully, noting the material used to draw each one and marveling over a few he’d never seen.
Even knowing what the boys had been through, he hadn’t expected them to need this many precautions in their basements.
There was salt ringing every tile, too, worked into the grout.
“Gives a whole new meaning to ‘safe as houses,’” he muttered to himself.
He stepped onto a landing and felt a small tingle of power as he crossed it. That made him wonder if there were more wards that he couldn’t see. He realized they had learned their lessons well.
He paused to touch one of the wards, feeling its power as he did so. “I know you didn’t want this for the boys, Mary, but... you’d be proud.”
Upstairs, Tricia’s hand went to her abdomen as she frowned. The baby was too young, but she could have sworn it kicked....
Crowley had tried everything he could think of. Unless there was something in a book owned by a hunter that he couldn’t get to-like, say, Bobby Singer-there was ZERO lore on how to bind or banish either Kali or Loki. Uriel was going to smite him good, and if that didn’t kill him, Alastair was probably warming up his favorite knives just for Crowley.
He really, really wished he could get drunk.
There had to be something, someone he could call, someone powerful who didn’t have a dog in this fight....
Dog... Anubis? No... wait. Osiris.
Now to find him.
Luckily, in the modern era, facsimile editions of the Book of the Dead were easy to find. It didn’t take him long to locate the summoning spell. What did take a while was locating all of the proper ingredients. But soon he found himself reading the incantation.
And waiting for several seconds before Osiris appeared-lounging in his recliner.
“Well, well. What have we here?”
“Osiris.” Crowley held out a glass. “Craic?”
“Yes, thank you.”
Crowley poured a double and handed it to Osiris. “My name is Crowley, milord, and I am in a bit of a pickle. I was wondering if-perhaps-you could help me.”
“How can such as I help such as you?”
“I need some way to bind Kali and Loki.”
“Let me rephrase. Why would such as I help such as you?”
Crowley blinked. “I’m asking nicely, mate. I’d rather not resort to threats. Name your price.”
“You’re assuming I have one.” Osiris took a sip. “You’re also assuming I fear you and that you’re more powerful than I.”
“Well, first, I never met a judge who didn’t have a price. And second, even if you don’t fear me, I am acting on behalf of both of the current rulers of Hell. Even you can’t want to cross Lilith.”
“I fear her about as much as I fear you. Which is to say - I don’t.”
Crowley floundered for a moment-he really hadn’t thought this through well enough to have appropriate blackmail on hand. Finally, he said, “It’s to do with Cazadore.”
An eyebrow rose. “Ah. You intrigue me at last.”
“Two hunters. Powerful enough to turn a demon back into a human. They need to be stopped-but Kali and Loki are in the way.”
“Ah, you are speaking your native language.”
“... Sorry?”
“You’re lying.”
“Why would I lie about this? Why would I make up a story even I had trouble believing the first time I heard it from the ex-demon it happened to?”
“I will believe it - when I see it happen to YOU. Begone.”
Crowley bristled. “This is MY house, you undead rotter!” His hellhound snarled in agreement.
Osiris snapped his fingers and the hellhound whined. A moment later, he was stroking the beast’s head while Crowley stuttered. “You should have a care for what you threaten in YOUR house, you pretender.”
Crowley opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by a shout of “DEMON!”
He cursed under his breath. JUST what he didn’t need.
“Ah, and our third has joined us,” Osiris chuckled.
Uriel strode in and looked at Osiris in disgust. “Why is he here?”
“Yes, demon,” Osiris said, smiling at Uriel. “Why is he here?”
“I am trying to find a way into Cazadore for you, Uriel,” Crowley ground out. “But His Highness is proving uncooperative.”
Osiris just smiled and scritched the hellhound under its chin. Angel and demon could hear its tail thumping in glee on the ground.
Uriel was even less amused than Crowley was. “Have you forgotten our last encounter, Osiris?”
“You mean when I sent you back to your Heaven with your wings tucked between your legs?”
Uriel scowled, and thunder rolled outside. “That is not how I recall it.”
“Your recall is faulty.”
“Says the false judge who pardons the sociopath and damns the saint.”
“I should put you on trial.”
“You would do better to try Michael. He has betrayed Heaven and joined forces with Kali and Loki to defend abominations.”
“Ah, then you admit it,” Osiris said with a cold smile.
“Admit what?”
“That you are hate-filled and blind.”
The thunder grew even more ominous. “Have a care, pagan.”
Osiris waved a hand and Crowley’s mansion was suddenly transformed into an Egyptian courtroom. “You have a care - angel.”
Crowley decided at this point that he really ought to go see how Meg was doing.
Only to find he couldn’t leave.
He swore quietly. This was really, REALLY not going well.
Meg was beginning to worry over the fact that she hadn’t heard from Crowley. Not that she cared about him, and not that she assumed he cared about her, but he had promised to try to find her a way out of her current predicament. The prosecutor handling her case was another crossroads demon, but he was less inclined to be generous when he discovered that she couldn’t consent to a deal. And she really, really didn’t want to spend any more time in jail as a human than she had to.
She was just about to wonder whether to risk a telephone call when he appeared in her cell, breathless and looking very much the worse for wear.
“Where have you BEEN?”
He held up a hand, and she sensed wards springing up around the cell. Then Crowley relaxed, but only a fraction. “I’m not here,” he whispered, looking around furtively.
“Uh... yeah. You are.”
“Not if anyone asks.”
“All right.”
“Especially if his name is Uriel or Osiris.”
She blinked and then started to laugh.
Crowley rolled his eyes and sank down on her bed. “Honestly, luv, I’m about this close to doing a kamikaze run on Cazadore meself, only I don’t know whether a demon is capable of committing suicide.”
“You sound like you’ve had as bad of a go of it as I have!”
“You’ve no idea. Kali, Loki, and Michael sent Uriel packing, and ’e’s takin’ it out on me.” His accent got more and more working-class the longer he talked.
Meg sat beside him. “I’m really sorry, Fergus.” And she meant it.
“I can’t win. I can’t. When the ’ell did I turn into Wilhelm Klink?!”
She rubbed her palm between his shoulder blades. “Why don’t you stop, then? If you can’t win - don’t try.”
“’Ow can I stop? I can’t go back to ’Ell; Alastair’s already said failure’s no’ an option. There’s a good chance either Uriel or Osiris will kill me if I stay topside.”
She sighed. “Go to Cazadore. Ask for help.”
“’Elp? ’ELP?! Like they’d be willin’ to ’elp ME!”
“They have a habit of saving things with their backs against a wall.”
Crowley looked at her oddly.
“They did this to me - but it took me out of the line of fire.”
Crowley studied her for a moment, then sighed. “Suppose I don’t ’ave much choice.”
She shocked him by leaning in and kissing his cheek. “Go on, Fergus.”
And he shocked himself by replying, “Ta, luv,” before he went.
The barrier was full on up. Crowley sighed and manifested a white flag.
In Sam’s kitchen, all the angels gasped.
“What?” all the humans asked aloud or in Sign.
Michael and Castiel vanished. Cooper’s eyes narrowed. “Crowley,”
What the hell is he doing here? Dean signed, frowning.
“They’ve gone to see.”
Sam and Dean exchanged a worried look.
A second Sam and Dean were now walking up toward Crowley. Crowley braced himself for whatever might happen.
They stopped just inside the wards - Sam’s eyes glowing gold, Dean’s glowing white.
“Gentlemen,” he said, fighting to keep his voice level.
“You look worse for wear,” said Dean.
“Yes, well, that’s rather the reason I came.” He raised his hands in surrender. “Kamerade.”
“Explain.”
“I can’t win this fight. I never wanted it in the first place. I’m in sales, dammit; the Apocalypse would kill my trade, not to mention what Lucifer will do to all of us if he wins. He hates demons even more than he hates humans. And now I’ve got Alastair, Lilith, Uriel, and Osiris out for my blood. So... do your worst. It can’t be as bad as what they’ll do to me.” And he spread his arms, turned his face aside, and screwed his eyes shut.
He felt a hand curl over the back of his neck. He risked cracking an eye open and lowing his arms a bit.
“What should we do, brother?” Sam asked, holding Crowley by the neck.
Dean was studying him dispassionately. “I dunno, dude. King of the Crossroads... death’s too easy.”
“He’s bereft... everything he does blows up.”
“Professional hazard. But on the other hand, he did surrender.”
“So we take him out of the equation?”
“Yeah, but how?”
“Like Meg.”
Crowley swallowed hard and screwed his eye shut again.
Then the pain hit him. It was like nothing he’d ever felt in Hell-a purging, cleansing fire. He felt simultaneously diminished - and expanded.
And then, as he collapsed, Sam not only caught him but put a hand on his chest, and a sharp pain-different, less severe, but still noticeable-briefly flared along his ribs.
“Shshshsh,” Sam’s deep voice whispered in his ear, infinitely gentle. “You’re safe now. You can be anything now.”
Crowley struggled to catch his breath. “Wh... what....”
“Whatever you want,” came the soft answer.
“What did...” Crowley rubbed at his chest.
“Warded. Angels and demons can’t find you now.”
His eyes opened in shock. “Truly?”
And both Winchesters were smiling at him - kindly.
“But... why?”
Dean crouched before him. “Because you were truly in trouble. And because you asked and meant it with all your heart.”
Crowley had absolutely no idea how to react. Nobody had ever been that nice to him before, even when he was a human the first time.
They waited patiently while he got his thoughts together.
Finally, he managed to say two words that hadn’t been in his vocabulary for centuries: “Thank you.”
Sam’s strong hand squeezed his shoulder. “Now... do you have any idea of what you would care to do?”
“I... no. I was... I was a tailor before, but I don’t know that I could go back to it now. And I can’t go back to New York-too many demons knew I was there.”
“You’re a businessman. You think like a lawyer, working angles,” Dean said.
“True. I’ve always been a salesman.”
“Perhaps you can still be.”
Crowley sighed. “What do you suggest?”
Sam replied. “Be a lawyer. You can retain the level of comfort you’re used to - with a little work - and you’ll be able to help people.”
“How the hell do I get into law school? I’ve not set foot in a classroom in four centuries.”
“I can help you there,” said Loki, suddenly appearing beside Dean-with papers in his hands.
Dean smiled at him.
Crowley frowned as Loki handed the papers to him. “What....” Then his eyes widened as he took in the information on them. All the documents he would need to set up shop as an attorney, all in the name of Fergus Roderick McLeod, born 1961.
“Welcome to the human race,” Loki grinned at him. “And you already have your first client, if I’m not mistaken.”
“Wh-you mean Meg? But....”
“But what?” Loki asked pointedly.
Crowley ran a hand through his hair. “I... suppose I am already known as her solicitor, but... how do I get there from here? And how the hell am I supposed to set up shop without anyone knowing where I’ve gone?”
“I’ll take care of it,” Loki said. “You just do your new job.”
Crowley ran a shaking hand over his nose and mouth. “Right. I’ll... I’ll do that.”
“Thanks, guys,” Loki said, putting a hand on Crowley - McLeod’s - shoulder. He snapped his fingers and they were gone.
Castiel took a deep breath and let it out again. But before he or Michael could say anything or even begin to shift back, they heard the distinctive rumble of the Impala’s engine approaching.
Dean barked out a laugh as he got out. We have twins! his hands sang.
Sam snorted and shook his head in amusement. What did Crowley want?
Redemption, Castiel replied.
The human Winchesters’ eyes widened. What happened? Dean asked.
Castiel was in the middle of explaining when Michael’s eyes widened and he gripped his little brother’s arm, eyes flaring white with power.
“What?” Castiel asked out loud.
“Uriel.”
Dean snarled and got Uriel’s sword out of the back seat while Sam pulled Gabriel’s sword seemingly out of nowhere.
“Dean...” Castiel began.
“No, Cas. We’re done hiding. This ends now. Uriel wants us... he’s just gonna have to figure out which us is real.”
“Which won’t be hard with that light in your eyes, Mike,” Sam put in.
Michael smirked-and suddenly his eyes were normal and Dean’s were glowing white.
The other pair of lookalikes laughed.
Dean grinned dangerously. “Let’s do this.”
Uriel had finally had enough. After the showdown with Osiris, which Uriel was calling a draw, Crowley had gone to Cazadore and promptly vanished. He was on his own. And he was tired of waiting for a back door to open.
Only instead of one pagan goddess - he found himself facing two sets of identical Winchesters. All of them armed with angel swords.
Uriel frowned. “What is this?”
Both Deans grinned wickedly and said in unison: “Endgame.”
Somehow that chilled Uriel to his very grace. “What do you mean?”
“After today,” both Sams said, “You will no longer bother us.”
This had to be some kind of trick. “LOKI! SHOW YOURSELF!”
Loki shimmered into view.
“Enough of your illusions.”
He spread his hands. “No illusion.”
“Then why are there four of them?”
Loki laughed.
“ANSWER ME!”
“You don’t scare us.”
Uriel snarled, and a major thunderstorm began to form. One of the Deans looked up and gestured with white eyes, and the storm dissipated.
Uriel blinked. “Michael?”
Both white-eyed Deans turned to him.
“This... this can’t be....”
“Why not?” they chorused.
Rather than trying to form a coherent answer, Uriel began throwing everything he had at the abominations.
They blocked his best efforts - Loki’s strength with theirs, the shield of holy fire.... And then the wall of fire came down, and they rushed at him. He was unprepared for that. He tried to flee but couldn’t.
“Uriel... you have been accused of treason against Heaven and against Earth!” Michael snarled.
“YOU are the traitor!”
“Oh?”
“You are HELPING THEM!!”
“Helping them make this world SAFE!”
“This world must end! Humans MUST DIE!”
Then a sword ran through his grace, and Dean, a hair’s breadth from the end of Uriel’s nose, said, “You first.”
The sword slid out of him slowly and painfully. Dean was deliberately dragging it out. Uriel tried to reply but found himself choking on his own blood.
Michael stood over him. “Uriel, you have been found guilty of treason.”
He tried again to lash out, but his power was draining away.
“The sentence is death.”
Uriel glared up at Michael, unable to do more.
“Because of your lack of repentance and your willful blindness, this has come upon you.” He nodded.
“Sayonara,” Dean growled and gave the sword a quick twist before pulling it the rest of the way out.
“EYES!” Castiel bellowed, seeing the light starting to build.
The humans shielded their eyes just before Uriel’s grace exploded.
His vessel lay there, vacant, dead.
Michael sighed sadly. “Farewell, brother.”
Castiel put his hand on Michael’s shoulder. Gabriel snapped his fingers, and the vessel was consumed by flame. Kali appeared beside him.
“Is it over for real now?” Sam asked.
“The last of the traitors is dead. Crowley is human.” He looked at Gabriel and Kali.
“Can’t guarantee Hell won’t try again,” Gabriel shrugged. “But yeah, I think this chapter’s over.”
Kali nodded and waved her hand. The holy fire went out. Michael shifted back to his blond form, while Gabriel helped Castiel shift painlessly.
Sam rubbed his hands together. “So... who’s up for a barbecue to celebrate?”
Michael sighed. “I cannot celebrate my brother’s death.”
“We were celebrating it being over,” Sam said. “I’m sorry.”
“I quite understand, Sam. For that, yes, there is cause to rejoice.”
Kali put a hand on his arm. “I am sorry about your brother.”
“He made his own choice.”
“It still hurts,” Kali said softly.
Michael looked at her and smiled a little. “Yes. It does. I wish I had known sooner; perhaps I could have stopped him before it got this far.”
“Now we move on,” Dean said.
Michael nodded. “Yes. We do.”
Meg looked up as her cell opened. She shot to her feet, seeing Crowley there.
He smiled a little and held his arms out to his sides. “Well? How’s it look?”
“How’s what look?”
“The new me.”
“You look the same,” she said, circling him. “You look the-wait.” She moved forward, bringing her hand toward his face. “... you have body heat...”
Grinning, Crowley reached into his pocket, withdrew his wallet, and showed her his new driver’s license. Her eyes went huge and she laughed.
“And-I’ve a present for you, ducks.”
“What is it?” Her entire body was lit with glee.
“House arrest, twenty years, with psychiatric treatment to make sure your ‘insanity’ is a thing of the past.”
She gasped. “No... No jail?”
“No jail.”
Her face fell. “Not in Cazadore, I hope?”
He snorted. “Are you joking? Never want to set foot near THAT town again.”
“So where will this happen?”
“Here. Nobody knows either of us. Nobody will come looking for us. We’re out, luv.”
She squealed and flung herself into his arms. He could feel her heart pounding with joy.
And to his surprise, his own heart started beating a bit faster with joy at having helped his former rival.
“Happy Christmas, Meg,” he whispered, and somehow the words didn’t burn coming out.
“Merry Christmas, Fergus,” she whispered back and it felt like coming home.
Summary: The angels' endgame is afoot. Will Cazadore's finest prevail, or will twisted destiny gain the upper hand at last?
A Severe Mercy
By Enola Jones and San Antonio Rose
Meg was sulking in the ER examining room when the nurse walked in. “Ms. Masters? You have a visitor.”
“I do?”
“Says he’s your lawyer.”
“My....” Her eyes went even wider. “Yes, yes, send him in!”
The nurse nodded and left, and a moment later Crowley strolled in. “Well, well,” he said.
“What is it, Crowley?”
Crowley turned to the policemen who were guarding her. “May I have a moment alone with my client, please?” Once they’d left the room, he turned back to her and whispered harshly, “What the hell happened?!”
“The Winchesters happened! Sam is in full control of his powers - and oh, he is more powerful than we ever dreamed - and Dean is in full control of his powers and-”
“Dean?! What are you on about?”
“He’s got powers, too! And he’s as powerful as his brother!”
“That’s not possible! Aside from the vessel lineage, there’s nothing out of the ordinary about Dean. He’s as human as his father!”
“But he did this to me!” She gestured down at herself. “They worked together! They... they....” She suddenly broke off, ducking her head and swiping the infuriating tears from her eyes with her arm.
Doing so let Crowley get a glimpse of the binding link. “Bloody hell,” he breathed.
“I know,” she sighed.
He looked at her more closely. “You’re human again.”
“I know!”
“Of all the blessed luck,” he snarled. “I had a feeling it wouldn’t work, but I never imagined this. What about Ruby?”
“Gone,” she sighed. “The meatsuit is all that’s left.”
He swore bitterly. “What the hell do we do now?”
“I don’t know.” And tough Meg Masters started to cry. “They’re gonna put me in jail.”
Crowley rolled his eyes. “Women’s prison should be a crossroads gold mine, ducks. Line up enough deals, and I’m sure Alastair will make things easier for you once you get back downstairs. Meanwhile, I’ve got to deal with bloody Uriel.” He paused. “Wait, you said Sam’s more powerful than we dreamed. Apart from... all this... what did you see?”
Trembling, she stuttered out what she’d seen. “His eyes... yellow as my father’s. He was telekinetic and he held me to the wall while... while Dean....”
“What did Dean look like? Did he chant, did he gesture?”
“He gestured... his eyes white from corner to corner...”
Crowley inhaled sharply. “That’s it. That’s enough for our hunter to kill both of them.”
Meg stared at him, eyes huge. “I... I still did it?”
“I can’t be sure yet, but... yeah, I think you did.”
Despite her situation, Meg began to smile.
“Listen, tell you what... I’ll make you a deal. One year, all the deals you can line up in the prison, and I’ll make sure Alastair gives you the chance to turn back as soon as you’re downstairs again. And a good go at Dean.”
She smiled and opened her mouth - a crossroads deal had to be audible, not just a nod. And her throat closed up.
He frowned. “What?”
She cleared her throat. “Sorry, I don’t know what happened. I said -” and her mouth formed the word, but no sound emerged.
He sighed. “Bloody marvelous. No-escape clause. Right, well, I’ll... I’ll see what options there are that wouldn’t require your audible consent.”
“Thank you,” she said in relief, surprising them both. That was not a phrase in a demon’s vocabulary.
“I’ll be in touch.” Crowley walked to the door, then paused within earshot of the guards. “I’ve got a friend in the DA’s office, by the way. I’ll see what kind of deal he can offer you.”
“I’ll be waiting,” she called back. “And I’ll take your other matter under advisement.”
He nodded and walked out of the hospital.
She fell back on the pillow and closed her eyes. “Yes,” she said, frowning. “Oh, NOW I can say the damned word...”
Uriel decided to check up on his demonic lackeys and appeared in Crowley’s mansion. The room was empty when he arrived, but before he had a chance to bellow for the demon, he appeared.
“What do you want?” Crowley grumbled.
“To see how you are progressing. You seem agitated.”
“We’ve been handed a hell of a twist, mate.”
His eyes narrowed. “Oh?”
“We got the lads out of Cazadore right enough. And I wish we hadn’t.”
“Explain.”
“Lost two of my best girls tonight. To them. One’s back in Hell, and the other’s trapped as a human. Bound and gagged. Offered her a deal, and she couldn’t consent.”
Uriel’s eyes narrowed. “To do this... would take immense power.”
“Precisely. But the Winchesters did it between them.”
The bald head shook. “Between-but Dean has no powers.”
“That’s what I thought. But my informant says his eyes go white just like Sam’s go yellow.”
“Then your informant is wrong.”
“I doubt it, mate. They left her memory for a reason.”
Uriel looked visibly shaken. “Dean. Winchester. Is. Powerless. This is a fact. I don’t know what happened to your informant, but -”
“She had no reason to lie, you bloody git,” Crowley roared. “Not to me. Not about this. And she couldn’t sell her soul to save her life.”
“She could not consent to ...” His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “This is very unusual.”
“You’re telling me. The question is, can we use that to get Campbell to kill ’em both?”
“I don’t know.” And he was gone.
Crowley sighed and poured himself a double. At times like this, he half wished he were still human enough to be able to get blind drunk.
Of all the war-related dreams he could have had, Samuel supposed the Ardennes was hardly the worst. The night he was dreaming about was cold and quiet and dark, but he was tense, waiting for some sign of the Krauts.
“Your dreams are strange, Campbell.”
Samuel jumped. “Uriel! What the hell?”
“Nice place. The Ardennes.”
“Wasn’t so nice in ’44. What do you want?”
“I have proof that the Winchester brothers are not human. Either of them.”
“You’re joking.”
“I do not joke.”
“What proof are you talking about?”
He told the story.
Samuel nodded thoughtfully, as if he didn’t already know that Sam and Dean hadn’t left Cazadore. “So what do you want me to do about it?”
“What you were born to do. Hunt.”
“I dunno. If they can render demons powerless, seems like they’re on the right side.”
“You are a hunter. They are not human. Hunt them.” He drew close, sneering. “I’ll not tell you again.” And he was gone.
Samuel sighed. “Castiel? Did you hear that?”
The youngest angel stepped into the light. “I did.”
“Well, I know what I’m not doing with that information. Question is, what should we do?”
“Nothing.”
Samuel blinked. “Nothing at all? Shouldn’t we... prepare somehow?”
“We will. You get to know your grandchildren.”
He sighed. “Okay. Just wish there were more I could do to protect them.”
“We’ll see.”
“Hey, what time is it? I’m kind of wondering if I ought to go ahead and wake up.”
“Go ahead. You need to use the bathroom, anyway.” And he faded out.
Samuel snorted and woke up.
After taking care of biological necessities, Samuel was still unsettled enough by his latest encounter with Uriel that he didn’t think he could sleep. So he read one of the biographies Daphne had brought him from the library-it was still hard to get his head around “President Ronald Reagan” being more than a joke on Laugh-In-until it was clear that he wouldn’t be getting back to sleep before the kids left for work. Deciding that the least he could do was to make himself useful, he went to the kitchen and started making breakfast.
Dean padded in about halfway through. He nodded a greeting and went straight to the coffeemaker.
“What,” Samuel teased, “can’t talk before you’ve had your coffee?”
He grinned at him and winked.
Samuel chuckled. “Got another visit from Uriel last night. Apparently, neither you nor Sam is human. And somebody forgot to remind him that if I were the type of hunter who killed all supernatural beings that aren’t human, I’d have shot him on sight.”
Dean laughed, then frowned. He pointed at himself in clear confusion.
“He had it on good authority that you and Sam turned a demon back into a human.”
Dean’s eyes went huge.
“Sounds like Michael left a couple of details out of the story when he told it to us,” Samuel added with a twinkle.
“M-hm!”
“But at least now I know which side I’m on.” And he started quietly humming “The Campbells Are Coming.”
Dean frowned at that tune.
Samuel looked around and saw Dean frowning. “Yes, Dean, I know you’re Winchesters. But you’re Campbells, too. And family is worth fighting for.”
Dean smiled and nodded.
“Would you drink your coffee so we can have a normal conversation?”
Dean laughed and drank his coffee, sitting down across from his grandfather.
Meanwhile, across town, John came downstairs to the bewildering sight of Michael fixing him breakfast.
“What’s going on?”
“Good morning, John,” Michael said with a nod. “I have much to tell you about what happened yesterday, and I thought it most expedient to brief you while you break your fast.”
“Okay....”
Michael smiled and brought him a cup of coffee. “Please, sit down. The rest should be ready in a moment.”
“Archangel food services,” John quipped as he sat down.
Michael actually laughed. “We were created to serve, John, not to rule. These last days, I have found the custom of showing honor and hospitality by serving food... intriguing.”
“Many angels seem to feel it’s their duty to rule us.”
“Then they have followed Lucifer’s error, whether they realize it or not.” Michael set a plate of perfectly cooked pancakes, bacon, and hash browns in front of John.
John moaned slightly at the taste of the hash browns. Just charred on the ends - just the way he loved them.
“Is it to your liking?”
“Yeah - thank you!” He gestured. “Share it with me.”
Michael smiled. “Very well, I shall.” He dished up another serving for himself and sat down across from John.
They ate in silence for a few moments, then John said, “So, fill me in.”
Michael did so, including Castiel’s information about the result of their masquerade as Sam and Dean. “Samuel is at last convinced of the truth,” he concluded. “And it will be only a matter of time before Uriel loses his patience entirely.”
“That’s what you’re trying to induce, isn’t it?” John asked. “Why?”
Michael sighed. “I do not wish there to be further conflict among my brothers, John, but this folly needs to end. And it needs to end quickly and decisively. Hell needs to know that your family is off limits, that Lucifer’s plan will not succeed... and if, as you say, there are other angels who have accepted Zachariah’s false teachings, I need to show them that Zachariah’s defeat was not mere luck. Uriel has not simply stepped out of line; he is actively working against Father’s will. And I will not allow him to continue.”
“Not to mention he seems beyond racist.”
Michael snorted. “Species-ist, I believe might be the better term. Castiel relayed the ‘mud monkeys’ remark to me-I had no idea he harbored such hate.”
“I had no idea angels could hate.”
“We can-but we ought to hate only evil. Humans may be fallen, but you are still Father’s creation, and as such, you retain some measure of goodness.”
“And Uriel hates us.”
“For no clear reason that I can see. I suppose Lucifer’s lies took root in his heart long ago, even if he did not support Lucifer’s rebellion.”
“I’m just glad he’s in the minority.”
“A minority of one, I hope. I shall know more when I return to Heaven when this is over.”
John nodded.
They ate in silence a moment longer. Then Michael sipped his coffee thoughtfully and said, “I wonder which would cause more comment in this town, my returning on occasion or my failure to return.”
“Your failure to return,” John said without any hesitation.
Michael nodded. “That’s what I thought. I’m sure Gabriel and Castiel wish to remain.”
“Bill’s part of this town.”
“Yes. And part of your sons’ family.”
John nodded.
“I think, though, that I should discourage too many other visitors of my kind. Two brothers appearing in a short time might not cause much comment, but more than that certainly will!”
“Agreed!” Then he paused. “Do you think that was wise, though? Putting the word out there that both my boys have powers?”
Michael chuckled. “Dean does have powers, John, just not of the sort I displayed. And his greatest strength?”
“You’ve got my attention.”
“He loves. Deeply.”
John just stared. “... that’s a strength?”
“Without that love, John, Sam would become precisely what Azazel wanted him to be.”
After a moment of silence, he asked, “So what are his powers?”
Michael chuckled again. “Observe him for a while. And do not limit yourself to the idea that a power must be as showy as Sam’s visions or Josh’s sensitivity.”
“I’m blind when it comes to my sons, Michael. Please - just tell me.”
“There is a reason Lucifer singled Dean out as the Righteous Man. His choices might have obscured that reason had he not come here, but since his decision to follow Christ, it is far clearer. Your son is a true servant of Heaven.”
John’s fork clattered to his plate. “DEAN?”
Michael nodded.
“Holy -”
“I wouldn’t finish that thought,” said Gabriel, appearing at one end of the table with a Dublin Dr Pepper in hand.
“Morning, Bill.”
“Morning. And Mike’s right. Not too visible in most scenarios, apart from his being a good egg, but up against the right enemy, Dean will succeed where no one else could.”
John considered a few scenarios he’d seen and nodded. Then he sighed and stood up. “Well, I have to get to work.”
Gabriel checked his watch and sighed. “Yeah, so do I.”
“Will we see you after?” John asked Mike.
“As soon as I have more to tell you, I’ll find you.”
John nodded.
The day passed slowly. Too slowly for Uriel’s liking. He kept waiting for the shockwaves of Sam and Dean’s deaths, but they never came.
Finally he realized he was going to have to confront Samuel again. He tried to dreamwalk and found the way - blocked.
That made no sense. Why couldn’t he get through?
He tried and tried - but he could not get through. So he appeared in Crowley’s mansion.
“What now?” Crowley snapped.
“Samuel Campbell. I can’t get through to his dreams.”
“Maybe he isn’t asleep.”
“Have a care.”
“I don’t deal in dreams, mate. What do you expect me to do?” When Uriel didn’t answer right away, Crowley continued, “Maybe it’s time you got your own hands dirty for a change. Those denim-clad nightmares are too powerful for my lot. You’re the Angel of Death. Kill ’em yourself.”
He smiled and vanished, headed to Cazadore. But he very nearly flew straight into a wall of holy fire. He landed to find a pagan goddess standing in his way.
She smirked coldly at him ten times over. “Sorry. No traitors allowed.”
“Stand aside, Makhakali,” he said, deliberately insulting her by mangling her name.
“I do not take orders from you, Uriel, any more than I took them from your superior. You shall not pass.”
“I shall pass and you shall die.”
“No. If you pass, you shall die. Just as Zachariah did.”
“I am the Angel of Death, remember?” He reached a hand toward her, intent on ending her.
“And I am Death’s daughter.” Her own hand darted up his sleeve and came out with his sword in it.
Sudden applause startled Uriel. “Nice work, toots!” said another voice. “Mexican standoff?”
Kali kept smirking at Uriel with nine heads while one turned toward the newcomer. “Are you just going to watch, Loki, or are you going to help?”
“Oh, I’m enjoying myself.”
Kali stuck her tongue out at Loki and lunged at Uriel. Uriel just stood his ground, confident his touch would end her.
Until she cut off his hand.
He gasped, staring down at the bleeding stump.
“Let this teach you the meaning of mercy,” she snarled. “You will get no second chance from me.” And she vanished with his sword.
He shook, looking at Loki. “... you. You’re behind this.”
Loki simply snapped his fingers, and bandages appeared on the stump. When Uriel looked up again, Loki was gone.
“... GET BACK HERE!”
Silence.
Only the roar of holy fire, surrounding Cazadore like a castle wall.
Uriel looked at the holy fire, then did what he perhaps should have done months ago. He bowed his head. “Am I wrong?” he whispered.
“You are,” said an unfamiliar voice filled with too familiar power.
He whirled, holding his stump close to his chest. “Who...”
“Hello, Uriel,” said the blond. “You’ve been avoiding me, I think.” And massive wings unfolded from his back.
“... Michael?”
The blond head bowed once in acknowledgment.
“We... We did this for you...”
“No,” Michael replied quietly, but the stern disapproval of his face made it sound like a rumble of thunder. “You did this because you hate humankind. You did this because you think you know better than Father. You did this because you listened to Lucifer.”
“No! We did this to destroy Lucifer!”
“So you believe. But it is not Father’s will, Uriel. Not now. Not like this.”
He just gaped. “But... Zachariah....”
“Zachariah was fallen.”
His face hardened. “Then... so am I.”
“It is not too late, Uriel. Repent. Stay this madness.”
“I do not want your mercy,” Uriel snarled. “The merciful are weak and easily beguiled.”
“You are saying our Father is weak and beguiled?”
“Father is gone. There can be no other reason for the evil that walks now-evil that grows from the heart of humans. Earth is our responsibility now. It is time to purge it with fire, to end Lucifer once and for all.”
Michael just looked at him.
Then he started to laugh.
“It’s NOT FUNNY!”
“Yes. It is. Father is gone. Are you certain of that?”
“Zachariah said so. And consider-”
“Finish that sentence, brother.”
“Consider the last century. So many wars. Lenin. Stalin. Hitler. Mao. Pol Pot. Hussein. Bin Laden. So many dead at the hands of so few, so many diseases that should not have affected more than animals cutting down thousands of humans because of their own depravity. How can anyone see Father at work in these things, mercy or not?”
“Free will.”
Uriel scoffed. “Free will is an illusion.”
“Zachariah says.” Michael managed to lace those words with all the mockery he could. John and Dean would have been so proud.
“Look at the Winchesters! How many ‘coincidences’ led to their even being born?”
“You mean to tell me,” Michael said evenly, “that human life itself was created just so these brothers could be born?”
Uriel’s mouth opened and shut wordlessly a couple of times before he snapped, “That was an example.”
“I do believe, dear brother, that is an example of being hoist on your own petard.” Michael was grinning again, genuinely amused. Uriel noted absently that he’d given this almost-Dean body Sam’s dimples. “You’re grasping at logical fallacies to underpin an argument that you have already lost.”
Uriel snarled. “Stop laughing at me.”
“You are acting like a fledgling, little brother.”
Uriel’s wings flared out in annoyance. “Fledgling? FLEDGLING?! WHO is acting like a fledgling, you... you irreverent FOOL?! Consorting with the Queen of Darkness and the Prince of Tricks? DEFENDING the WINCHESTERS? And I am the fledgling?!”
“Father is in Heaven. All is right with the world. It is you who is making it wrong. It is you who is playing into Lucifer’s plans.”
“If I had my sword, I would strike you down for that insult here and now, archangel or no.”
“No. You wouldn’t. Because you know - deep down - we are speaking the truth.”
Uriel snarled again and fled the field.
Michael shook his head. He would learn.
Once Uriel was gone, Gabriel appeared once more, with Castiel at his side. “What do you think?” Gabriel asked. “Will he repent? Zach was beyond stubborn.”
“Uriel still is,” Michael sighed.
“Will he return tonight?” Castiel asked. “Or should we plan to confront him in town?”
“Plan for both.”
Gabriel nodded grimly. Castiel-sneezed.
Gabriel looked at him in alarm. “Are you getting a cold, kiddo?”
Castiel sniffled, dragging his sleeve along his nose. “Think it’s just the smoke.”
Frowning in concern, Gabriel put a hand on his shoulder and eased the inflammation in his sinuses.
“Thanks,” he said, smiling big and broad - so wide his nose wrinkled adorably.
Gabriel shifted his hand to Castiel’s other shoulder and pulled him into a rough side hug. “What am I gonna do with you, huh?” he teased.
“Well, you’re pretty well stuck with me....”
Gabriel laughed at that.
Michael frowned. “That should not have irritated your nose.” He touched Castiel’s forehead.
Castiel sniffled. “Well, it did.”
“Only because it was already irritated-I believe you are getting a cold. Would you like me to heal you?”
“Yes.” He looked ruefully at Gabriel. “But I don’t get sick....”
“Perhaps not before you took this form,” said Michael thoughtfully as he drove out the virus. “But this body lacks many of the usual human antibodies against sickness. I think-” He frowned for a moment, then laid his whole hand on Castiel’s chest and strengthened his immune system. “There. That should be protection enough for now.”
One quick cough, then Castiel smiled. That same loopy smile he shone on Gabriel.
Michael smiled fondly at him, then turned to Gabriel. “Now. Kali?”
“What about her?”
“Why is she here?”
Gabriel smiled. “She’s guarding Cazadore from angels.”
Michael raised an eyebrow.
“I had her guarding against Zachariah.”
“You had her?”
“Mutual agreement.”
“On what grounds?”
“We’re old friends, Mike.”
“Gabriel....”
“I’m serious.”
“What friendship could Loki have with Kali?”
He smiled. Broadly.
“You are pathetic,” said Kali, appearing beside him and brushing a kiss on his cheek.
“Have you met my brothers?” Gabriel asked, putting an arm around her.
“We haven’t been introduced.”
“This is Castiel... and Michael.”
“How do you do?” she said politely, if coolly.
“Relax,” Gabriel smiled. “They’re firmly with me.”
“I assumed as much, since they’re standing here and not fighting with you. And Castiel, I believe, I’ve seen around town.”
“Cousin Carol from Sandusky,” Castiel smiled.
She chuckled.
All eyes turned to Michael.
“Cousin,” said Michael flatly.
“It was a cover people believe,” Gabriel said.
Michael just stared at Kali for a long moment. She stared back.
Finally, Michael took a step toward her. “You have helped my brothers protect this town, and you have not betrayed their secrets.”
She inclined her head in his direction. “And they have not betrayed mine.”
“Then for that I thank you, and all else I leave between the two of you-and Father.”
“Michael.” She held out her hand to him.
Uriel’s sword rested in her fist.
He smiled a little and took it from her. “Again I thank you.”
“And I thank you - for turning out to be nicer than the bastards who did this in your name.”
“Their actions were their own. They did not consult me-indeed, they probably knew I would not approve.”
Kali nodded again.
Michael sighed. “So. Now we wait.”
“And I believe Dean’s house will be more comfortable.” Kali waved a hand, and the holy fire parted long enough for all three angels to pass through.
They arrived to find all four Winchesters in bed with John keeping watch.
“John?” Gabriel whispered. “What are you doing here?”
“I had a nightmare. Uriel was here.”
“He was. Mike just ran him off.”
He nodded. “Well, you all are staying, right?”
“Of course.”
“I’m heading to bed, then. Reported in earlier, Frank knows I’m over here.”
“Okay. Rest well.”
He clapped Gabriel on the shoulder. “Night, Bill. Cas. Mike. Carol.”
The others nodded. “Good night, John.”
He headed upstairs to Dean’s guest room - where he stayed when he was there.
Gabriel watched him go. “A nightmare?” he whispered. “John doesn’t usually have prophetic dreams.”
“What are you whispering about?” Sam asked from behind him.
Gabriel startled. “Don’t DO that!”
“Nice to know I can startle an archangel,” Sam laughed.
The angels laughed as well, and Kali shook her head and tried not to smile.
Uriel blew into Crowley’s mansion like a whirlwind, cradling his maimed arm against his chest.
“You’re getting blood all over the Persian, mate.”
Uriel simply snarled.
“Looks like you lost something.”
“Save it, Demon.”
His head tilted. “No can do - can’t save that one. It’s gone. I can cauterise it, though.” He snapped his fingers and fire poured over the limb, healing the stump instantly.
“Thank you,” Uriel gritted out. “But no more jokes.”
“Can’t promise that. And I didn’t do it for the thanks - or even out of the goodness of my heart.” He took a sip of his Craic. “I didn’t want angel blood contaminating my home.”
“I did not come here to bleed on your precious carpet. I need your help in getting into Cazadore.”
Crowley’s snarled reply contained a pretty direct suggestion of what Uriel could do with himself.
Uriel loomed over him. “Michael is working with Kali and Loki to keep me out. Unless you wish to face the wrath of your masters for your failure, you will help me.”
“I can handle my ‘masters’, thanks.”
Uriel reached out with his left hand and slowly began to pull the demon out of his host. Crowley choked.
“I will send you to Hell, make no mistake. Unless you aid me.”
Crowley nodded wildly.
Uriel released him. “Now. I need some way to trap or banish Kali, at least, if not Loki, as well as a means of putting out holy fire. Michael I can handle well enough on my own.”
“I’ll get right on that,” Crowley choked out, but the sarcasm went over Uriel’s head.
“Yes. You will. You have already tried my patience enough.”
He nodded.
Uriel left in a gust of wind, as if he’d actually flounced his wings.
“Bloody bastard,” Crowley growled.
“Why the hell didn’t anybody wake me up?!” Samuel demanded at breakfast the next morning.
“Are you kidding?” Daphne shot back. “Loud as you were snoring, we were terrified to get near you!”
John snorted a half-smothered laugh into his coffee cup.
Gabriel didn’t bother to smother his laughter. Neither did Castiel. Dean just grinned - it was too early. And Kali just looked at them all like they were amusingly stupid.
Sam and Tricia stumbled in just then. Sam frowned. “I think we missed something.”
Michael chuckled. “I was just about to explain to your grandfather that his services were not required last night.”
“Morning, guys.” Sam moved to Dean’s side and pulled his hands in close to his chest, ‘whispering’. Full house again?
Dean’s raised eyebrows said it all.
“So what’s the plan?” Daphne asked.
Michael thought for a moment before letting a sword slip out of his sleeve and handing it to Dean. “This is Uriel’s. Should he find a way past our defenses, you may need to use it against him. Beyond that, I fear we must wait to see what each day brings.”
Dean took it, nodding.
“So what do archangels eat for breakfast?” Samuel asked.
Michael laughed. “Whatever our friends are eating!”
After breakfast was cleared away, Samuel asked, “Michael... walk with me?”
“Of course.”
They moved out to the yard and after a moment, Samuel asked, “Can you send me back to wherever I came from?”
Michael frowned. “You are asking me to kill you.”
“I died 35 years ago, Michael.”
“Yet however unjust his reason for doing so, Uriel returned you to life. I see no need for you to die again so soon-and your death will grieve your grandchildren.”
“They don’t know me. I don’t know them.”
“You are family.” Michael paused. “And you will not find Mary there.”
“She’s not in Heaven. She’s not in Hell. She’s not trapped anymore. Where is she?”
Michael held up a hand. “I am not free to tell you that. But I can tell you that she will be here by this time next year.”
“Here. On earth.”
“In Cazadore.”
Samuel stared at him, his jaw lowering.
“I cannot say more. But Samuel, this family accepts you. You have two fine grandsons, two fine granddaughters. They will have remarkable children of their own. Will you walk away from them now?”
“I don’t belong here.”
Michael quirked a wry smile, very like Dean’s. “Neither do I, yet I would stay if I could.”
Samuel sighed and ran his hand over his forehead. “What would I do here?”
“You need not settle in this town. There will always be a need for good hunters. Or you could-retire. Learn to live in community again.”
“If I leave this town-I’m dead.”
“Then stay and train the young hunters. Provide research, as John does. Surely you have knowledge and experience that would be of benefit.”
“Yeah... I do.”
“Sam and Dean are active in the community in many ways now, but they will need to scale back once their children are born. You can fill that gap.”
“What can an old coot like me do?”
“Teach. Write. Train. And you need not focus only on hunting. They give firearm safety lessons for people wanting a concealed handgun license-you can do that easily. Record your memories of the Second World War; too many of your fellows have died without doing so. Perhaps the better question is, what can’t you do?”
“All right.”
“I know it may be hard to adjust to all the changes, but you can do it. Humans are almost infinitely adaptable, I find. And you don’t have to face the challenge alone.”
“No?”
“You have your grandchildren. And Cazadore.”
“They don’t know me. How can they love me?”
“Because they love. Full stop.”
Samuel stared at him and looked down at his feet.
Michael put a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Even my brothers could learn from this family, Samuel. I know I have.”
“You? But lore says you know everything...”
Michael scoffed and dropped his hand. “Only My Father knows everything. Angels are finite. And, as you have seen with Uriel, we are also fallible.”
“But you’re not an angel. You’re an archangel.”
“That does not make me God.”
“Near as, according to the lore.”
Michael shook his head. “Perhaps as near as a created being can be. Not that near. I have limits, just as does the smallest particle of matter. And does the lore not recall the meaning of my name?”
“No. You are Michael.”
“In Hebrew it means ‘Who is like God?’-a rhetorical question.”
“So your name is basically taking the mickey out of the lore.”
Michael grinned. “If you like.”
“Huh.”
“Human lore is not always reliable. Only My Father’s Word stands forever.”
“I’m... I don’t believe, Michael. Not like I think the others do.”
“From what Castiel tells me, Dean had only the barest mustard seed of faith for many years. Yet you see what he is like now.”
Samuel sighed. “He’s hardly a Bible-thumper. It’s more a... quiet faith.”
“Faith need not be showy to be effective. ‘He has shown you, oh man, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you but to act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God?’”
Samuel shook his head.
“Do not guard against faith, Samuel. That is the key. If you will let yourself be convinced by the evidence, the rest will come in due time.”
He shook his head again. “Too soon.”
“Give it time.”
“Need somewhere to live.”
Michael smiled. “When we have seen to Uriel, I’m sure Sam and Dean will be glad to help you look.”
Samuel turned back to the house. Michael let him go. He could tell the man was overwhelmed.
Samuel had rarely felt like crying, but he certainly did now. All this... it was just too much.
Daphne met him on the back porch, one hand resting lightly on her stomach. “Grandpa? What’s wrong?”
He just shook his head.
“Can I get you anything?”
“Just... leave me be awhile. I got a lot to think about.”
She nodded. “Sure. We’re all planning to stay close today, but... we can give you space. If you need anything, though, just holler, okay?”
“I will. Thank you.” And he headed into the house.
Daphne followed, and though the kids looked at him questioningly, Daphne evidently signed something behind his back that prompted looks of understanding. No one actually spoke to him.
He definitely had a strange family.
He went upstairs for a while, and when he came back down, everyone was gone. There was a note on the coffee table, however:
Grandpa, we’re all next door. Take all the time you need. There’s a tunnel through the basement, if you don’t want to go outside. - D
“A tun-” He blinked. “Huh!”
Feeling curious, he went to the basement and found the tunnel. The walls were covered with wards in all kinds of languages. He examined them carefully, noting the material used to draw each one and marveling over a few he’d never seen.
Even knowing what the boys had been through, he hadn’t expected them to need this many precautions in their basements.
There was salt ringing every tile, too, worked into the grout.
“Gives a whole new meaning to ‘safe as houses,’” he muttered to himself.
He stepped onto a landing and felt a small tingle of power as he crossed it. That made him wonder if there were more wards that he couldn’t see. He realized they had learned their lessons well.
He paused to touch one of the wards, feeling its power as he did so. “I know you didn’t want this for the boys, Mary, but... you’d be proud.”
Upstairs, Tricia’s hand went to her abdomen as she frowned. The baby was too young, but she could have sworn it kicked....
Crowley had tried everything he could think of. Unless there was something in a book owned by a hunter that he couldn’t get to-like, say, Bobby Singer-there was ZERO lore on how to bind or banish either Kali or Loki. Uriel was going to smite him good, and if that didn’t kill him, Alastair was probably warming up his favorite knives just for Crowley.
He really, really wished he could get drunk.
There had to be something, someone he could call, someone powerful who didn’t have a dog in this fight....
Dog... Anubis? No... wait. Osiris.
Now to find him.
Luckily, in the modern era, facsimile editions of the Book of the Dead were easy to find. It didn’t take him long to locate the summoning spell. What did take a while was locating all of the proper ingredients. But soon he found himself reading the incantation.
And waiting for several seconds before Osiris appeared-lounging in his recliner.
“Well, well. What have we here?”
“Osiris.” Crowley held out a glass. “Craic?”
“Yes, thank you.”
Crowley poured a double and handed it to Osiris. “My name is Crowley, milord, and I am in a bit of a pickle. I was wondering if-perhaps-you could help me.”
“How can such as I help such as you?”
“I need some way to bind Kali and Loki.”
“Let me rephrase. Why would such as I help such as you?”
Crowley blinked. “I’m asking nicely, mate. I’d rather not resort to threats. Name your price.”
“You’re assuming I have one.” Osiris took a sip. “You’re also assuming I fear you and that you’re more powerful than I.”
“Well, first, I never met a judge who didn’t have a price. And second, even if you don’t fear me, I am acting on behalf of both of the current rulers of Hell. Even you can’t want to cross Lilith.”
“I fear her about as much as I fear you. Which is to say - I don’t.”
Crowley floundered for a moment-he really hadn’t thought this through well enough to have appropriate blackmail on hand. Finally, he said, “It’s to do with Cazadore.”
An eyebrow rose. “Ah. You intrigue me at last.”
“Two hunters. Powerful enough to turn a demon back into a human. They need to be stopped-but Kali and Loki are in the way.”
“Ah, you are speaking your native language.”
“... Sorry?”
“You’re lying.”
“Why would I lie about this? Why would I make up a story even I had trouble believing the first time I heard it from the ex-demon it happened to?”
“I will believe it - when I see it happen to YOU. Begone.”
Crowley bristled. “This is MY house, you undead rotter!” His hellhound snarled in agreement.
Osiris snapped his fingers and the hellhound whined. A moment later, he was stroking the beast’s head while Crowley stuttered. “You should have a care for what you threaten in YOUR house, you pretender.”
Crowley opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by a shout of “DEMON!”
He cursed under his breath. JUST what he didn’t need.
“Ah, and our third has joined us,” Osiris chuckled.
Uriel strode in and looked at Osiris in disgust. “Why is he here?”
“Yes, demon,” Osiris said, smiling at Uriel. “Why is he here?”
“I am trying to find a way into Cazadore for you, Uriel,” Crowley ground out. “But His Highness is proving uncooperative.”
Osiris just smiled and scritched the hellhound under its chin. Angel and demon could hear its tail thumping in glee on the ground.
Uriel was even less amused than Crowley was. “Have you forgotten our last encounter, Osiris?”
“You mean when I sent you back to your Heaven with your wings tucked between your legs?”
Uriel scowled, and thunder rolled outside. “That is not how I recall it.”
“Your recall is faulty.”
“Says the false judge who pardons the sociopath and damns the saint.”
“I should put you on trial.”
“You would do better to try Michael. He has betrayed Heaven and joined forces with Kali and Loki to defend abominations.”
“Ah, then you admit it,” Osiris said with a cold smile.
“Admit what?”
“That you are hate-filled and blind.”
The thunder grew even more ominous. “Have a care, pagan.”
Osiris waved a hand and Crowley’s mansion was suddenly transformed into an Egyptian courtroom. “You have a care - angel.”
Crowley decided at this point that he really ought to go see how Meg was doing.
Only to find he couldn’t leave.
He swore quietly. This was really, REALLY not going well.
Meg was beginning to worry over the fact that she hadn’t heard from Crowley. Not that she cared about him, and not that she assumed he cared about her, but he had promised to try to find her a way out of her current predicament. The prosecutor handling her case was another crossroads demon, but he was less inclined to be generous when he discovered that she couldn’t consent to a deal. And she really, really didn’t want to spend any more time in jail as a human than she had to.
She was just about to wonder whether to risk a telephone call when he appeared in her cell, breathless and looking very much the worse for wear.
“Where have you BEEN?”
He held up a hand, and she sensed wards springing up around the cell. Then Crowley relaxed, but only a fraction. “I’m not here,” he whispered, looking around furtively.
“Uh... yeah. You are.”
“Not if anyone asks.”
“All right.”
“Especially if his name is Uriel or Osiris.”
She blinked and then started to laugh.
Crowley rolled his eyes and sank down on her bed. “Honestly, luv, I’m about this close to doing a kamikaze run on Cazadore meself, only I don’t know whether a demon is capable of committing suicide.”
“You sound like you’ve had as bad of a go of it as I have!”
“You’ve no idea. Kali, Loki, and Michael sent Uriel packing, and ’e’s takin’ it out on me.” His accent got more and more working-class the longer he talked.
Meg sat beside him. “I’m really sorry, Fergus.” And she meant it.
“I can’t win. I can’t. When the ’ell did I turn into Wilhelm Klink?!”
She rubbed her palm between his shoulder blades. “Why don’t you stop, then? If you can’t win - don’t try.”
“’Ow can I stop? I can’t go back to ’Ell; Alastair’s already said failure’s no’ an option. There’s a good chance either Uriel or Osiris will kill me if I stay topside.”
She sighed. “Go to Cazadore. Ask for help.”
“’Elp? ’ELP?! Like they’d be willin’ to ’elp ME!”
“They have a habit of saving things with their backs against a wall.”
Crowley looked at her oddly.
“They did this to me - but it took me out of the line of fire.”
Crowley studied her for a moment, then sighed. “Suppose I don’t ’ave much choice.”
She shocked him by leaning in and kissing his cheek. “Go on, Fergus.”
And he shocked himself by replying, “Ta, luv,” before he went.
The barrier was full on up. Crowley sighed and manifested a white flag.
In Sam’s kitchen, all the angels gasped.
“What?” all the humans asked aloud or in Sign.
Michael and Castiel vanished. Cooper’s eyes narrowed. “Crowley,”
What the hell is he doing here? Dean signed, frowning.
“They’ve gone to see.”
Sam and Dean exchanged a worried look.
A second Sam and Dean were now walking up toward Crowley. Crowley braced himself for whatever might happen.
They stopped just inside the wards - Sam’s eyes glowing gold, Dean’s glowing white.
“Gentlemen,” he said, fighting to keep his voice level.
“You look worse for wear,” said Dean.
“Yes, well, that’s rather the reason I came.” He raised his hands in surrender. “Kamerade.”
“Explain.”
“I can’t win this fight. I never wanted it in the first place. I’m in sales, dammit; the Apocalypse would kill my trade, not to mention what Lucifer will do to all of us if he wins. He hates demons even more than he hates humans. And now I’ve got Alastair, Lilith, Uriel, and Osiris out for my blood. So... do your worst. It can’t be as bad as what they’ll do to me.” And he spread his arms, turned his face aside, and screwed his eyes shut.
He felt a hand curl over the back of his neck. He risked cracking an eye open and lowing his arms a bit.
“What should we do, brother?” Sam asked, holding Crowley by the neck.
Dean was studying him dispassionately. “I dunno, dude. King of the Crossroads... death’s too easy.”
“He’s bereft... everything he does blows up.”
“Professional hazard. But on the other hand, he did surrender.”
“So we take him out of the equation?”
“Yeah, but how?”
“Like Meg.”
Crowley swallowed hard and screwed his eye shut again.
Then the pain hit him. It was like nothing he’d ever felt in Hell-a purging, cleansing fire. He felt simultaneously diminished - and expanded.
And then, as he collapsed, Sam not only caught him but put a hand on his chest, and a sharp pain-different, less severe, but still noticeable-briefly flared along his ribs.
“Shshshsh,” Sam’s deep voice whispered in his ear, infinitely gentle. “You’re safe now. You can be anything now.”
Crowley struggled to catch his breath. “Wh... what....”
“Whatever you want,” came the soft answer.
“What did...” Crowley rubbed at his chest.
“Warded. Angels and demons can’t find you now.”
His eyes opened in shock. “Truly?”
And both Winchesters were smiling at him - kindly.
“But... why?”
Dean crouched before him. “Because you were truly in trouble. And because you asked and meant it with all your heart.”
Crowley had absolutely no idea how to react. Nobody had ever been that nice to him before, even when he was a human the first time.
They waited patiently while he got his thoughts together.
Finally, he managed to say two words that hadn’t been in his vocabulary for centuries: “Thank you.”
Sam’s strong hand squeezed his shoulder. “Now... do you have any idea of what you would care to do?”
“I... no. I was... I was a tailor before, but I don’t know that I could go back to it now. And I can’t go back to New York-too many demons knew I was there.”
“You’re a businessman. You think like a lawyer, working angles,” Dean said.
“True. I’ve always been a salesman.”
“Perhaps you can still be.”
Crowley sighed. “What do you suggest?”
Sam replied. “Be a lawyer. You can retain the level of comfort you’re used to - with a little work - and you’ll be able to help people.”
“How the hell do I get into law school? I’ve not set foot in a classroom in four centuries.”
“I can help you there,” said Loki, suddenly appearing beside Dean-with papers in his hands.
Dean smiled at him.
Crowley frowned as Loki handed the papers to him. “What....” Then his eyes widened as he took in the information on them. All the documents he would need to set up shop as an attorney, all in the name of Fergus Roderick McLeod, born 1961.
“Welcome to the human race,” Loki grinned at him. “And you already have your first client, if I’m not mistaken.”
“Wh-you mean Meg? But....”
“But what?” Loki asked pointedly.
Crowley ran a hand through his hair. “I... suppose I am already known as her solicitor, but... how do I get there from here? And how the hell am I supposed to set up shop without anyone knowing where I’ve gone?”
“I’ll take care of it,” Loki said. “You just do your new job.”
Crowley ran a shaking hand over his nose and mouth. “Right. I’ll... I’ll do that.”
“Thanks, guys,” Loki said, putting a hand on Crowley - McLeod’s - shoulder. He snapped his fingers and they were gone.
Castiel took a deep breath and let it out again. But before he or Michael could say anything or even begin to shift back, they heard the distinctive rumble of the Impala’s engine approaching.
Dean barked out a laugh as he got out. We have twins! his hands sang.
Sam snorted and shook his head in amusement. What did Crowley want?
Redemption, Castiel replied.
The human Winchesters’ eyes widened. What happened? Dean asked.
Castiel was in the middle of explaining when Michael’s eyes widened and he gripped his little brother’s arm, eyes flaring white with power.
“What?” Castiel asked out loud.
“Uriel.”
Dean snarled and got Uriel’s sword out of the back seat while Sam pulled Gabriel’s sword seemingly out of nowhere.
“Dean...” Castiel began.
“No, Cas. We’re done hiding. This ends now. Uriel wants us... he’s just gonna have to figure out which us is real.”
“Which won’t be hard with that light in your eyes, Mike,” Sam put in.
Michael smirked-and suddenly his eyes were normal and Dean’s were glowing white.
The other pair of lookalikes laughed.
Dean grinned dangerously. “Let’s do this.”
Uriel had finally had enough. After the showdown with Osiris, which Uriel was calling a draw, Crowley had gone to Cazadore and promptly vanished. He was on his own. And he was tired of waiting for a back door to open.
Only instead of one pagan goddess - he found himself facing two sets of identical Winchesters. All of them armed with angel swords.
Uriel frowned. “What is this?”
Both Deans grinned wickedly and said in unison: “Endgame.”
Somehow that chilled Uriel to his very grace. “What do you mean?”
“After today,” both Sams said, “You will no longer bother us.”
This had to be some kind of trick. “LOKI! SHOW YOURSELF!”
Loki shimmered into view.
“Enough of your illusions.”
He spread his hands. “No illusion.”
“Then why are there four of them?”
Loki laughed.
“ANSWER ME!”
“You don’t scare us.”
Uriel snarled, and a major thunderstorm began to form. One of the Deans looked up and gestured with white eyes, and the storm dissipated.
Uriel blinked. “Michael?”
Both white-eyed Deans turned to him.
“This... this can’t be....”
“Why not?” they chorused.
Rather than trying to form a coherent answer, Uriel began throwing everything he had at the abominations.
They blocked his best efforts - Loki’s strength with theirs, the shield of holy fire.... And then the wall of fire came down, and they rushed at him. He was unprepared for that. He tried to flee but couldn’t.
“Uriel... you have been accused of treason against Heaven and against Earth!” Michael snarled.
“YOU are the traitor!”
“Oh?”
“You are HELPING THEM!!”
“Helping them make this world SAFE!”
“This world must end! Humans MUST DIE!”
Then a sword ran through his grace, and Dean, a hair’s breadth from the end of Uriel’s nose, said, “You first.”
The sword slid out of him slowly and painfully. Dean was deliberately dragging it out. Uriel tried to reply but found himself choking on his own blood.
Michael stood over him. “Uriel, you have been found guilty of treason.”
He tried again to lash out, but his power was draining away.
“The sentence is death.”
Uriel glared up at Michael, unable to do more.
“Because of your lack of repentance and your willful blindness, this has come upon you.” He nodded.
“Sayonara,” Dean growled and gave the sword a quick twist before pulling it the rest of the way out.
“EYES!” Castiel bellowed, seeing the light starting to build.
The humans shielded their eyes just before Uriel’s grace exploded.
His vessel lay there, vacant, dead.
Michael sighed sadly. “Farewell, brother.”
Castiel put his hand on Michael’s shoulder. Gabriel snapped his fingers, and the vessel was consumed by flame. Kali appeared beside him.
“Is it over for real now?” Sam asked.
“The last of the traitors is dead. Crowley is human.” He looked at Gabriel and Kali.
“Can’t guarantee Hell won’t try again,” Gabriel shrugged. “But yeah, I think this chapter’s over.”
Kali nodded and waved her hand. The holy fire went out. Michael shifted back to his blond form, while Gabriel helped Castiel shift painlessly.
Sam rubbed his hands together. “So... who’s up for a barbecue to celebrate?”
Michael sighed. “I cannot celebrate my brother’s death.”
“We were celebrating it being over,” Sam said. “I’m sorry.”
“I quite understand, Sam. For that, yes, there is cause to rejoice.”
Kali put a hand on his arm. “I am sorry about your brother.”
“He made his own choice.”
“It still hurts,” Kali said softly.
Michael looked at her and smiled a little. “Yes. It does. I wish I had known sooner; perhaps I could have stopped him before it got this far.”
“Now we move on,” Dean said.
Michael nodded. “Yes. We do.”
Meg looked up as her cell opened. She shot to her feet, seeing Crowley there.
He smiled a little and held his arms out to his sides. “Well? How’s it look?”
“How’s what look?”
“The new me.”
“You look the same,” she said, circling him. “You look the-wait.” She moved forward, bringing her hand toward his face. “... you have body heat...”
Grinning, Crowley reached into his pocket, withdrew his wallet, and showed her his new driver’s license. Her eyes went huge and she laughed.
“And-I’ve a present for you, ducks.”
“What is it?” Her entire body was lit with glee.
“House arrest, twenty years, with psychiatric treatment to make sure your ‘insanity’ is a thing of the past.”
She gasped. “No... No jail?”
“No jail.”
Her face fell. “Not in Cazadore, I hope?”
He snorted. “Are you joking? Never want to set foot near THAT town again.”
“So where will this happen?”
“Here. Nobody knows either of us. Nobody will come looking for us. We’re out, luv.”
She squealed and flung herself into his arms. He could feel her heart pounding with joy.
And to his surprise, his own heart started beating a bit faster with joy at having helped his former rival.
“Happy Christmas, Meg,” he whispered, and somehow the words didn’t burn coming out.
“Merry Christmas, Fergus,” she whispered back and it felt like coming home.