Title: Absolution
Author: TigerTiger02
Chapter Title: All These Things That I've Done
Spoilers: pretty much if you haven't seen any season four you probably shouldn't be reading this since Castiel is featured heavily. Pre-"I Know What You Did Last Summer"…. And considering this has been Kripke'd (although I've been working on it for a good month) I think you all know where this is heading…
Summary: Castiel's retrieves Sam and Dean for a mission from God. Guess they didn't expect it to be an Atomic-Bomb Girl. Or she'd be broken and a one mouthy-girl. Shameless Castiel/OC.
Disclaimer: not mine, if it was I would totally take Castiel home as pet, he's just so darn cute!
Dedication: to Nikki, who has been here with me every step of the way, and to all the readers and reviewers, you totally make my life!
When there's nowhere else to run
Is there room for one more son
One more son
If you can hold on
If you can hold on, hold on
I wanna stand up, I wanna let go
You know, you know - no you don't, you don't
I wanna shine on in the hearts of men
I wanna mean it from the back of my broken hand
Another head aches, another heart breaks
I am so much older than I can take
And my affection, well it comes and goes
I need direction to perfection, no no no no
Help me out
Yeah, you know you got to help me out
Yeah, oh don't you put me on the back burner
You know you got to help me out
And when there's nowhere else to run
Is there room for one more son
These changes ain't changing me
The gold-hearted boy I used to be
Yeah, you know you got to help me out
Yeah, oh don't you put me on the back burner
You know you got to help me out
You're gonna bring yourself down
Yeah, you're gonna bring yourself down
Yeah, you're gonna bring yourself down
I got soul, but I'm not a soldier
I got soul, but I'm not a soldier
-The Killers "All These Things That I've Done"
Dean stumbled back to the motel room, he was dead tired, his neck hurt like a bitch, and he had drank a little more than he intended. He would never look at a Magician the same way, that's for sure. Unlocking the door he was already toeing off his boots by the time he closed the door behind him. In one of the beds Eve awoke with a jerk.
"Damnit… I just fell asleep…" she snarled and sat up to watch him with a glare.
"Sorry." Dean muttered and put his jacket on one of the chairs. He pulled his shirt off and ambled to the bathroom.
"Izzie called." Dean glanced over at Eve who stood in the doorway. He let his eyes wander her form appreciatively as she examined her nails. She wore a pair of cotton sleeping shorts and a tank-top, her hair was tousled from sleep and she looked… worn. He winced inwardly, knowing that he was possibly the cause of her perpetual exhaustion. If Sam wasn't there to mediate they fought almost constantly.
"Yeah, where the hell is she?" he asked examined his neck, the bruises were already pretty vivid and they would only get worse. He splashed his face with cold water before moving onto brushing his teeth.
"She wouldn't say. Only that she was with Raphael, that she hadn't seen Cas in awhile, and that she wouldn't be back for another week or so."
"What took her so long to call?" He asked through a mouth of toothpaste.
"Oh she's called a few times but I guess it just slipped my mind." Dean rolled his eyes and spat out some toothpaste foam.
"Anything else you'd like to tell me, Princess?" he snapped and Eve rolled her eyes to the ceiling thoughtfully.
"Nope. Try to keep it down, I'm going back to bed." She said flippantly before prancing back to bed. Dean shot a glare and closed the bathroom door before stripping fully. He stepped under the lukewarm, weak spray of the water and closed his eyes.
He didn't know what to do about Eve, for the past couple of months she had been cold towards him, short with him, and she was constantly ignoring him. He hated it, he knew that they hadn't known each other long but… he had enjoyed being around her. She was fun, smart, and just all-around awesome. He could pin-point the exact time she had done a 180 on him; it was after he had slept with Anna. Somehow, he wasn't sure how, Eve had found out about it and wasn't very happy with him. He wanted to make it up to her but he didn't know how. It seemed like since coming back from Hell nothing had seemed right.
Sam had been acting weird for months now, hanging out with Ruby, doing that weird thing with his powers. The words of the Yellow Eyed Demon came back to him, "You saw what your brother just did to Jake, right? That was pretty cold, wasn't it? How certain are you that what you brought back is 100 percent pure Sam? You of all people should know, that's what's dead, should stay dead…" Boy did Dean know; he knew that Sam wasn't Sam anymore. Oh sure there were times that he was still the snot-nosed brat from before Stanford, and even in the year after. But… most of the time… most of the time Dean looked at him and it was like looking at a stranger. Sam had changed. He had been changing since before Dean died. And when he did, when he went to Hell, well Sam had gone on changing, changing into someone that Dean secretly (very secretly and deep down inside so far down that Dean was barely aware of it) despised. He knew that if he wasn't related to Sam, if he didn't have the whole 'protect your brother' and 'families all you got' drilled into his head constantly that Dean would have taken him out years ago, long before he had even become a threat. Because Dean knew that there was something wrong about Sammy, something had always been wrong about him and now it was just noticeable.
There were times when Dean wished he had put an end to this, back when Sam had started showing more and more signs of being 'special' after that whole Croatoan incident. Dean had ignored the orders his dad had given him, it had been too much to ask of him at the time, now though, well they do say hindsight is twenty/twenty. He had definitely changed since Hell, had changed since he had sold his soul. He knew that there was a large part of him that was ruthless, cold, and vicious. He saw that part of him in his nightmares every night. Saw the monster he was inside, the monster Alastair had made him into, had carved him into. He knew that what he was now, despite his exuberance in saving people that his soul would always remain blackened, would always be damned. He also knew that if push came to shove he would balk at killing Sammy; he would even if there something inside of him howling, telling him to just do it. Hell, he wished he could just save a cheerleader to save the world, but life wasn't like that.
The sad thing was that normally it would be Dean and Sam against the world, saving the world, saving people, and hunting things. This time was different, it wasn't about finding dad and killing as many evil sons a bitches as they could along the way. It wasn't about tracking the Yellow Eyed Demon and killing the bastard. It wasn't about saving Dean's soul from Hell, or putting back all the demons that had come through the Gate. It was literally about stopping the apocalypse, stopping Lucifer from rising, and stopping Lilith from breaking those damn seals. And while Sam and Dean were on the same side… they were bent on going about it in completely different ways. Dean wanted to do it the way they always had, with guns in their hands, knowledge on their side, and well maybe just a sprinkle of angels. Sam wanted to use his freaky demon powers, powers that terrified Dean. Those powers were dangerous, they were what Sam had said Ava could do, granted she summoned things rather then kicked their ass back to Hell. But still, hadn't someone said the road to Hell was paved with good intentions? He knew Sammy had the best of intentions at heart but would it kill him to listen to Dean? Didn't he realize that no good could come out of using powers given to him by the demon that had killed their mother? And Dean… Dean was just waiting for the day Sammy's eyes turned yellow or black. And Dean… Dean would have to kill his baby brother. He would have to put that knife into his baby brother's ribs, or heart, or neck, or whatever.
Dean twirled the knob and the water trickled to a stop. He gave himself a quick drying and stepped out of the shower, examining himself in the mirror after a moment. He was thirty, surprise he had been right when he had thought he wouldn't make it this far. He had been dead only a few months after his twenty-ninth. Of course he was then resurrected… so he was thirty, and alive. Or maybe he was seventy. Add on another forty years to his soul age because Hell counted. The most of amazing thing though was coming back whole, no crooked fingers, no more scars that littered his body, no more joints that clicked from being dislocated one too many times. No more awful hearing from too many shots fired without any ear protection. No more painful arthritis in his fingers even though he was far too young to have any. He had come back unblemished with the exception of the burn on his shoulder. But his soul hadn't come back whole. Despite all the bodily upgrades he had gotten they had neglected his soul for the most part. He knew he was lucky to be sane and coherent but the memories from Hell were intact.
His fingers ghosted over his face, there, just there, he could see crow's feet forming, smile lines etching themselves into his skin. His age was just barely beginning to show. Ironic considering that if one including Hell time he was seventy, an old man long past his prime. God, there were some days he felt it too. He was tired all of the time from too many nightmares, memories, and whiskey full flasks. He was tired of this life. He was tired of looking after his brother all of the time. He'd paid his dues. He'd paid his dues to this world and they brought him back. All he could do now was fight and hope for the best.
With a sigh Dean broke his staring contest with his reflection and crept into the dim motel room. Eve was curled on her side, her face relaxed as she breathed deeply. He waited for a moment before deeming her deeply asleep. He hung the towel to dry on the doorknob of the bathroom and slipped into a pair of basic black boxer-briefs. He debated on a shirt and finally pulled one on. He slipped into the remaining bed with a soft snicker. It looked like Sammy would be getting the tiny, crappy cot tonight. Just before he drifted off to sleep he took a couple of shot from the bottle under the bed and hid a knife beneath the pillow.
The cemetery was dark and lonely; then again it was three in the morning. Isabella stared down at the dug-up grave silently while Raphael muttered in Enochian a spell that would cloak them from human or demon sight, for now at least. They had both agreed that Mary should be brought back first. She would probably take the news better and wouldn't try to kill them, at least they hoped so.
"So what do I have to do again?" She asked as Raphael glanced at the grave and nodded in approval of the job she had done at re-digging it up.
"Good, good, we'll open the coffin just after I finish. All you have to do is hold my hand so I can siphon some of your power."
"Right. Ready?"
"No." Raphael said honestly and withdrew a vial of blood from his pocket. Isabella knew it was Dean's blood; after all they did need something with Mary's DNA in it. Raphael nicked his palm with a knife just after emptying the vial into his palm. She did the same and gripped his hand tightly as he spoke. The words were sharp edged and guttural in tone. His voice hardly rose in volume but Isabella was glowing brightly already. It was different then when she was with Castiel. The glow was blinding and pure white. She could feel Raphael slowly siphoning away her power. It wasn't until her knees buckled and she sat dizzily that anything happened from the grave. There was a sonic boom and a radiation of wind from the grave, Raphael howled the last few words and ripped his hand from hers before slamming his hand, coated in the mixture of their blood, to the ground. There was a deafening silence until a loud intake of breath from the coffin followed by banging and a muffled scream.
"Best get her out then." Isabella said and hopped down into the grave. She pried up the top of the coffin with a crow bar and stared into the wide panicked hazel eyes of Mary Winchester. She noted with a sense of wry humor that Dean had Mary's eyes.
"Wha-what? Wh-who?" Mary stuttered out and then violently coughed. Isabella held out a slim hand and hoisted the woman out of the coffin and helped her sit a few feet from the grave. She wrapped a blanket around the shivering woman.
"Mary Winchester, what do you remember?" Raphael asked as he crouched in front of her. She met his eyes unflinchingly.
"What are you?" she asked, her voice barely wavering.
"My name is Raphael. I am an archangel of the Lord." He said without expression. Mary blinked at him and promptly fainted.
"Well that went well." Isabella said sarcastically, Raphael shot her a glare.
"Shut up."
To say that Mary Winchester was confused, horrified, and agonized was an understatement. Tearfully she took the tissue that was offered by the dark-haired woman that crouched in front of her.
"Do you see now? Why we had to bring you back? It would have been done sooner but… well management behind the Pearly Gates has been a bit lax lately."
"It's my fault. It's all my fault… if I hadn't…"
"But you did and it happened, nothing can change that. Nothing. But it isn't your fault Mary; believe me when I say this. Its Azazel's fault, and Lilith's, and Lucifer's… and mine." Mary stared at the young woman intently.
"Yours?"
"Mine. I'm not like Raphael… I'm not just another angel… I was created simultaneously with Lucifer. You could say we're twins. I could have stopped him, could have annihilated him but… I couldn't. He is my brother after all… I was weak then. Not this time, Mary. This time I won't let him rise." The woman stood and brushed off the dirt from her knees.
"Who are you?" Mary asked and the woman cocked her head in an odd sort of manner before smiling.
"Isabella. It's a pleasure to meet you." The smile warms Mary up, as silly as it sounds.
"What happens now?" She asked tentatively. Oh god, her babies… she would see her babies again. But they would be all grown up. Dean would be thirty now and Sammy would be twenty-six. And… how bizarre, her oldest son was older than her now.
"Well… not quite." Raphael said and Mary frowned at him, had he just read her thoughts? "Yes. We angels do that. We added a few years to your age. About fifteen. Hope you don't mind."
"Mind? No… I feel great actually!"
"Good. You should, you got a shot of pure Grace running through your veins, like Dean does and like John will." Isabella said while quirking another smile. "As it should be since-."
"Let's not mention that one." Raphael said quickly. Mary looked between them.
"What is it?"
"Nothing." Isabella said with a shrug while giving Raphael a look. There was a long moment when neither of them spoke but their eyebrows kept leaping around and their facials expressions kept changing until-. "Alright fine!" Isabella snapped out before taking a vial of blood from her pocket and upending it onto her hand. She sliced her palm open and Raphael repeated the motion. They clasped hands and Mary had never heard anything like the language he spoke. It sounded like a mixture of languages, at points she could swear it was Latin but couldn't figure out what was said. The light emitted from Isabella was blinding bright and starting to hurt her eyes.
"You might want to cover your eyes and ears!" Isabella shouted and Mary did as instructed. Beyond the dim muffled volume she was getting she could hear a loud boom and she felt unnatural wind race across her skin. Silence hung in the air for a long moment before Mary dared straightening from her huddled position. John was lying there, looking confused and disorientated. Her heart stumbled and stuttered in her chest.
"M-Mary?" He stuttered out while standing. He looked around with a frown. "This is the cemetery you were buried in… what happened?"
"John Winchester." Raphael intoned solemnly. Then John lunged, capturing the angel into a choke hold but Raphael made no move to strike back. Instead he sent Isabella a significant look.
"John Winchester welcome back."
"Who the hell are you? I want to know whose neck I'm snapping." John snarled.
"Oh by all means, snap his neck, it won't do anything, can't kill an angel without the proper equipment." Isabella said carelessly as she began to fill in the empty grave.
"What?" John hissed. "Angels don't-."
"Oh sorry, guess you're one of those that can't see. Can't say I'm surprised. Dean's the same way and don't even get me started about Sammy. How about now?" There was the sudden crack and clash of thunder and lightning as great black shadow wings stretched from her back, her electric grey eyes focused entirely on John. "We are not the fluffy cherubs that come to mind when most people think of angels. We are warriors, silent and invisible sentries always watching and waiting. You think that we are not here because of all the bad things that have happened? Ever hear of fate John? We cannot stop what has already been put into action." She snarled angrily. "Now let Raphael go." With silent shock John's gripe loosened and Raphael ducked away from him.
"Way to take your time, Iz." Raphael hissed angrily.
"Sorry. Just wanted to drive the point home." Isabella murmured.
"I think seeing his sons might just hammer it in a bit more."
"I think maybe we need to explain some things first." Isabella said before turning to John. "John Winchester, we'll catch you up to speed on certain thing but I really think you should hear most of the story from your sons." Isabella said softly as she continued to fill the grave.
Dean buried his face into his pillow and groaned as his phone rang.
"Dean… Dean… answer your fucking phone!" Eve snarled from across the room. With a sigh Dean finally rolled over fumbling for the phone he knew was at the bedside table. The last few weeks had been rough what with reliving the memories of that brief but awful month where he had gone to Truman high school during his senior year. It brought back a lot of sore memories from his childhood, as an adult Dean now realized that his hero worship of his father was a bit… well blind. Looking back at it he realized that while John had done his best to take care of them it probably would have been better if he had just left Sam and Dean with Pastor Jim or Bobby, both men were perfectly capable of taking care of the two. It kind of pissed Dean off when he realized how much he had missed out on because of his dad constantly moving them around. With a grunt he eyed the name on the caller ID before answering.
"Hey Bobby, a bit early for social calls, so what's up?" When Bobby spoke it was hesitantly.
"Dean… I don't know how to tell you this but… uh… your Dad's truck is gone." Dean felt a cold numbness sliding over him.
"What?" his voice was rough and harsh.
"I don't know where it went, it was here last night and now it's gone. I'm sorry Dean; I know that its one of the last things you have of his."
"Was there anything left inside, that could be traced back to us?"
"No. You took all of the weapons; there was nothing but the truck itself and the keys, which are also gone by the way. Though I don't know how considering I had them in a lockbox. I'm really sorry Dean." Dean ran a hand through his hair and across his face.
"No, its okay Bobby, really its fine. I guess it was time we got rid of it anyway, would have been better it we could have gotten some money for it though."
"Yeah guess so. Alright Dean, I just thought you should know, take care,"
"You too Bobby." Dean flipped his phone shut and sighed. Sam was watching him carefully from the cramped cot that he had slept on that night.
"What did Bobby want?" he asked slowly as Eve's phone rang. She brightened up and answered, speaking in low tones. Sam turned his eyes back to Dean and stood, making the bed on the cot before folding it up neatly in the corner.
"He was calling because someone stole Dad's truck."
"Shit, was there anything incriminating in there?"
"No, the weird thing is the keys are missing too, and it was behind a locked gate."
"Huh. Weird." Sam says lost in musing as he pulls on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. It's his turn to get breakfast.
"Hey guys?" They turn to Eve who is twisting her hair around her fingers, cell phone glued to her ear. She looks nervous.
"What is it?" Dean asks, standing swiftly.
"Uhm… Izzie says to brace yourself and go outside. She has a surprise for you." The boys exchange glances and Dean slips Ruby's knife into the waistband of the jeans he pulls on. He pulls on a shirt and shrugs on his jacket. Sam glances at him warily before checking the magazine of the Smith and Wesson; he clicks the safety on and jams it down the back of his pants before covering the grip with his shirt. Dean also takes a moment to slip the Colt 1911 into the waistband of his pants and they both move to the door. Dean heads out first, stance tense as he keeps one hand close to the knife. However the world suddenly tilts strangely because holy shit…
"Is that…?" Sam doesn't finish the sentence, instead glancing around the empty parking lot as his hand goes to the small of his back where the cool metal teases his skin.
"Dad's truck. Son of a bitch." Dean snarls. "This is one fucked up surprise."
"Oh that's not all." A voice chirps from beside him and before he can think the knife is lodged in between Izzie's collar bone and shoulder bone. "Gee, thanks Dean, way to ruin one of my favorite shirts." She snarls and wraps a slender hand around the knife.
"Oh my god, are you okay?" Sam half-shouts and Izzie lifts a delicate eyebrow.
"Uhm, Sam? Can you help me? I uh… I think it's stuck. Thanks Dean, really from the bottom of my heart."
"Sorry. You startled me."
"You should learn by now."
"You shouldn't sneak up on twitchy hell-refugees."
"You should take a closer look at the truck." Izzie shoots back cheerfully before grunting in pain as Sam wrenches the knife out finally. A moment she rolls her shoulder with a frown.
"Why should I-?" Dean stops, his eyes grow wide and his lips part as his jaw loosens and drops. "Dad…" he breathes out and Sam turns away from examining Isabella's shoulder.
"What?" He exclaims before his eyes zero on the woman who he couldn't remember but had seen in pictures. "Oh my god… Mom…" And Sam is striding across the parking lot before he can think. Dean stays still, hands clenching and unclenching as he glances at Isabella.
"Dean… I-." she starts to stutter out.
"Shut up." He snaps before striding after Sam. Sam is crying like a great big baby as he hugs their Dad and then their Mom. John looks at Dean and grins.
"Hey Dean… how about a hug for your old man?" John says with that stupid fucking grin. Dean sees red.
"You son of a bitch!" Dean growls and snaps out a quick right hook. John stumbles backward, shock on his face as he stares at his oldest son. "You don't get to come back from wherever the hell your were after laying all this shit on me, after everything I've gone through to protect Sammy, to do my job, which by the way has gotten me stuck in the middle of a lot of shit that makes me wanna claw my fucking eyes out. You don't get to come back like some big damn hero." Mary placed at hand on his shoulder and Dean shrugged it off. "Do not even get me started, do the words: stay the fuck in bed on November 2, 1983 mean anything to you? And seriously? You were a hunter, you should know better than to take a shoddy deal that isn't really worth it. I'm out of here." Dean turned quickly, his expression thunderous as he strode away, not even glancing at the Impala.
"That went well." Isabella murmured.
"I'm going after him, that boy needs an ass-kicking!" John snarled angrily and started after Dean. Sam darted in front of him.
"No. He just needs processing time, you know that Dad. We'll give him until midnight and if he hasn't dragged his sorry, drunk ass back here Eve and I will go look for him."
"Actually you know what. I'm gonna go after him now." Eve said as she emerged from the room.
"Eve, are you sure?" Sam asked.
"I'll be fine Sammy, already got the second sight on full." She said with a half-smile. She turned around swiftly and took off at a jog. Sam watched her for a moment before turning back to his parents.
"So uh… I guess we should catch up." Sam murmured awkwardly.
"Let's go inside." Isabella said and herded them into the hotel room. "I'll stay, as a mediator." Sam meets her eyes startled and knows that she knows. He hangs back and catches her arm in an accidentally tight grasp.
"Isabella? Can we talk?" He asks softly as his parents enter the room, oblivious to the scene behind them. He doesn't know if it's because Isabella makes them oblivious or if they really are. Isabella turns luminous bright eyes to his and her expression is serene.
"I think its best that we leave this conversation for later, Sam. When others aren't present." She says softly, her expression turns sad for a moment before she puts a hand on his. "I will say though, that there are other means to that end." And she breaks away from him, expression solemn before she enters the dark room. Sam follows her quietly, mind a million miles away.
John stands with his feet planted apart, parallel to his shoulders as he folds his arms over his chest and studies the room. The walls are devoid of paper clippings and printed news articles. However Sam's laptop sits humming on the tiny table in the room, open windows of emails with other hunters or friends who wondered when exactly he had dropped off the face of the planet. The two beds are unmade and there's a folded up cot in the corner. The room shows little evidence of them actually being on a hunt but its clear there are three occupants of the room. The two double beds and the cot are evidence of this.
His mind is whirling with information. For a couple of weeks they had bunked down in a hotel room with Isabella and Raphael, learning all they could about the boy's life so far and not to mention acclimatizing Mary to the digital age. She had after all missed most of the eighties and on. It hadn't been easy on Mary and it sure as shit hadn't been easy on him. He found himself wondering if they could have avoided all of this heartache if Mary had told him from the get-go, or at least after that son of a bitch demon had killed Mary's parents, and himself. What would have happened if Mary had told him everything after he awoke, confused, in her arms?
He hated these foreign thoughts. Mary had been put on a pedestal the moment she had died and John had never looked back. Now though, he was finding things out about his wife that made him think differently. He knew now that Mary was just as flawed as him and that she wasn't the woman he'd thought she was, not that it changed his love for her, knowing any of this. But it certainly changed a lot between them, it changed and threw off their whole dynamic and it changed the mission that he had held close to his heart for twenty-two years. No longer was this about avenging his dead wife but helping his sons, now men, fight to survive. Fight against the overwhelming tide of the apocalypse.
"Dad?" Sam's voice was hesitant, like a little boys but Sam wasn't a child anymore. His youngest son was strong, confident, and a slinking predator, much like Dean, now. His youngest son was a man of twenty-six years. He was changed even from the last time he had seen him. There was still that hint of quick snapping anger but there was also this calmness, this levity to the young man that hadn't existed before. He was finally at peace with his role as a hunter now.
"Sam." John said as he turned on his heel to view his son. Sam met his eyes fully and stubbornly lifted his chin, some things never changed. He reached out an his hand fell heavy on Sam's shoulder, the younger man stiffening with contact but he did not flinch away. "Come here, kid." John said fondly and hugged Sam tightly for a moment before thumping him on the back lightly. They parted and John watched as, for the second time in twenty-six years, Mary and Sam hug. Mary starts crying again and Sam fusses over her.
"Mom, no don't cry, Mom… its okay," he murmurs and John can tell he relishes the title he has never used directly.
"You're just so… big now… and I missed it all. I'm so sorry Sammy…" she whispers brokenly and Sam just hugs her tightly.
"Its okay, Mom. Really there are still some big moments left once we get out of this mess. We still have college graduation, though I don't think I want to be a lawyer anymore. We still have to get me married and grandchildren and…" he trails off and meets John's eyes steadily and somehow, somehow the eldest Winchester knows that Sam doesn't mean a damn word. Oh he means them but he knows as well as John that the possibility of any of that happening without turning his back on this mess is slim to none. And Sam's old enough now to know that he and Dean have a job, that they all have a job and survival of themselves doesn't trump the survival of the human race. They both know that if sacrifices are needed there is to be no hesitation. Which sparks thoughts in John's head of Sam's… uniqueness, which had yet to be covered by neither of the angels or Sam himself. Sam and Mary part but sit next to each other on one of the beds as the angel (who he finds to be abrasive and obnoxious) stands at the window with a hand dropped low to hip, as if touching a weapon for a comfort and stares out into the parking lot with a steady gaze.
The angel, Isabella, had revealed little about herself but had been quick and vicious in dispatching any demons that had made themselves known the past few weeks. The first time light had lit her skin immediately and she had thrown off arching electric shocks that made her deadly to touch. Her star lit eyes had narrowed in concentration as her expression went cold. She had managed to get atop a struggling demon and held him down with on hand on his throat as she placed the other slender, delicate hand on his face.
"I do not wish to do this, as you were once brethren Jophial but you have forced my hand as it is my duty to protect the Winchester's at all cost. I will make it as painless as possible, old comrade. I hope you find your peace." She had said steadily before there was a flashing light from within the demon and his struggles ceased. She had stood wearily, no longer looking like the powerful being she was but instead a defeated ghost of the girl she had been. Her eyes fluttered closed as a fluent prayer in a dead language left her lips. Her eyes snapped opened and she straightened as if noticing then that two humans had witnessed her, a divine being's, moment of weakness.
"Dad?" there came Sam's questioning tone again and John forced himself from his deep introspective thoughts.
"I'm listening. You boys on a hunt?" John asked reflexively. Sam glanced at Isabella quickly before turning his eyes back to John after the angel gave him no indication of being against whatever his silent question had been.
"No. We just got done with one though…"
"Anything interesting?" John asked and Sam's lips twisted wryly.
"Wasn't a homicidal ghost truck but yeah. I guess. Got to relive some of high school and Dean realized his true ambition of being a gym teacher, a sadist in red shorts." John felt his eyebrows jump in surprise. "Power trip." Sam said with a shrug.
"Last interesting case?" John asked
"Probably the mess we were in a couple of months ago…" Sam trails off glancing at the angel once more. She says nothing but whatever Sam noticed made him change the subject quickly.
"So… any questions…" Sam says awkwardly and John wonders what suddenly made him clam up.
"Yeah, the angels only gave us the bare amount of information on what's been going down lately but what I want to know is how did you two manage to kick start the apocalypse?" Sam's eyes widen and he looks away, this time he swallows heavily.
"Uh… it's a long, long story and well… some of it is Dean's to tell. So…"
"I want to know everything Sammy, tell me about college and birthdays and friends you had and-." Mary cuts herself off at Sam's closed off look.
"It's mostly been about hunting, for as long as I can remember but I didn't know it was hunting until I was old enough. So I guess you didn't miss much… vampires and werewolves and wendigoes oh my." Sam says dryly. Mary shakes her head.
"Okay then, tell me about your first hunt." She says brightly but John knows what the tightening of her mouth means and widened eyes. She shoots him a look that says 'I'm-Going-To-Yell-At-You-Later' before turning back to Sam and taking his hands into her own.
Eve weaved through the crowded bar on her way back from the bathroom and was thankful to see that Dean hadn't left or thrown any punches in the five minutes she had been away. She slides onto the barstool next to him and took a swig of her drink.
"So, anyway you were saying?" She said lightly and Dean glanced over at her, jaw tight with unspoken anger before he turned back to his drink.
"I thought I told you to buzz off." He mutters into his drink before taking a gulp. He grabbed the bottle of Johnnie Walker Red to refill his drink.
"Dean, why don't we go back to the room and you and your dad can duke it out in the parking lot." She said lightly and Dean shot her a glare.
"Yeah because I really want to open that can of worms." Dean growled and poured himself another generous glass of whiskey.
"Can you just put your vagina away for a minute and stop being a little whiny bitch? Dean you get a second chance with your parents. Do you know how many people would kill for that? Sure they did some shitty things and died on you, leaving you with massive abandonment issues but they're your parents and you get a second chance to bond and shit. So why don't you stand your sorry ass up and let's get back to the motel so we can move on with our lives and get onto the inevitable hug-fest." Eve snarled angrily before standing swiftly and putting her hands on her hips. She glared down at Dean until he met her eyes with a cowed expression.
"Fine." He said lowly and Eve found herself basking in the glow of triumph. "After I finish this bottle." He said with a sly grin and poured himself another drink. Eve sighed and sat down.
"Well can you at least give me a couple of shots of that?" Dean contemplated her for a second before shrugging.
"Sure, babe." He said flippantly. Eve tried to ignore it. She really did but she couldn't because in the end she only human.
"Don't call me that." She said softly. Dean turned his hazel eyes to her and they were gentle and soft, unlike any other time before when they had met each other's gaze.
"Okay." He responded gently and poured her a drink.
They sat in silence for almost an hour before Dean paid their bill after standing unsteadily. He slung an arm across her shoulders as they made their out of the bar and into the parking lot. Their unsteady stumbling and half of Dean's body weight leaning on her made for an awkward walk back to the motel. It was only a twenty-minute walk so when they got close Dean stopped for a moment.
"I don't know if I can do this. If I can step into that room and pretend to be Pre-Hell Dean. I don't know if I can pretend to be someone I'm not anymore. I don't know if I can fake being alive when I'm not, not in any way that counts, not deep down inside." He laughed bitterly. "Cause inside I'm pretty sure there's not much left of my soul. I'm hollow in there… dead and hollow." He turned sad, empty eyes to Eve and she sighed, sitting down on a curb.
"Dean, you don't have to pretend. You don't have to fake it in front of your family." She said softly. Dean sighed.
"I can't walk in there as Dean the Broken Man, I have to go in there as Dean the Hunter, Dean the Unflappable…" he trailed off and looked at his hands. "What would they say if they knew Dean the Torturer?" his voice cracked and broke on the last word and Eve gathered him close, shushing him gently.
"It'll be okay Dean. We'll go in there and when you want to stop and you need some time then just signal me by scratching your nose and we can stop. Okay?" she said while rubbing his back. Dean nodded slowly against her.
"Okay yeah…" he removed himself from her and stood slowly. They started their walk back in near silence and it wasn't until they were close to the room that Dean spoke again.
"Thanks." He whispered and Eve smiled up at him.
"No problem." Eve thought that maybe she could find it in her heart to stop being angry with him now. She knew that there were more important matters just beyond that dark blue door.
Isabella listens to the stories flowing between the three hunters behind her with half an ear. She's stood like this for a few hours now, mind lost in the ether. She thinks of nothing in particular and merely remembers. She misses Castiel, with a fierce ache in her chest. It's been a month since she's seen him and she wonders what he's been up to since he left her in Bobby's kitchen. She just wants him next to her during this. She misses his touch and his taste and his eyes watching her. She wraps her arms around herself and wonders if she should just go and find him. She sighs inaudibly and tunes out the one-upping stories once more as she turns her attention to the sky. Night has started to fall and she briefly seeks Eve mentally. She touches upon the human and finds her in good spirits with Dean.
Breathing out a sigh of relief she settles back into her body and casts a glance at mother, father and son. Sam is telling John and Mary about a run in with a trickster they had a few years back. Isabella allows herself a small chuckle at the story before she turns back to the window, gazing sightlessly out into the world. The past month has made her bone weary. Castiel hadn't told her that being an angel was so exhausting. It doesn't matter that she doesn't really need to sleep or eat or anything anymore, she stills feels weary at the end of a particularly trying day. Castiel also hadn't told her that her Grace happened to burn brighter then most angels; as such demons did not have a particularly hard time finding her. She had spent much of her time in recent memory sending demons right back to hell, or rather annihilating them completely until there was nothing left. It had been trying but she was learning to cope. Her best coping mechanism was to simply go to a place where human frequented and just watch them. Sometimes she would end up in a church or something similar but most of the time it was a park or a mall. She would sit and watch and eventually she would start to feel like her old self. She understood now Castiel's total fascination with humans.
Isabella continued to keep watch carefully, stretching her senses further and further from herself and feeling out every last human she came across. It was lucky that other then the demon she had run into on their way into town there were no other demons in a fifty-mile radius. However it left her with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Even if there weren't demons close by it didn't mean that ones far from her couldn't sense her. They would pick up her scent like bloodhounds and come after her. Come after them. She stretches her senses further and further until she could feel them. It left an ashy taste in her mouth and make her skin crawl like there were maggots beneath. She shuddered and drew away quickly to her area of comfort far from the demons.
It was the sound of wings beating that initially caught her attention and she found herself tuning herself to the presence of another as tingles shot through her earthly body. It was a sirens song that drew her, a moth to a flame. A song that called to her and only her. She felt herself falling back to her earthly body and she gasped sharply as her eyes snapped open with the impact of her fall.
"Castiel…" she breathed out before turning swiftly. The others followed her gaze as it landed on the solemn angel standing in the doorway of the bathroom. The air crackled around them as their respective Grace answered the call of the other. Cas stepped forward, hesitant as he took a step before stopping.
"Isabella…" his rough voice was impossibly loud in the silent room and Isabella found herself closing the distance between them. He grasped her tightly by her upper arms, knuckles paling white as she clutched the lapels of his trench coat in her delicate fists. The press of his lips to hers doesn't startle her, rather the intensity does and she finds that he guides her to step… elsewhere. Another room, another motel in another state… or even another country. It didn't matter really where they were, as long as they were together. As long as he continued to kiss her like this, so desperate and starved and passionate, she didn't care where they were. She slipped her fingers into his damp ink hair and moaned as his mouth traveled to her jaw, nipping lightly and then to her neck where he sucked and nipped with abandon.
"I've missed your taste." Castiel hissed into her ear as his hands worked on her jacket.
"I want you." She murmured back as she worked at his tie before moving onto his shirt. When he had taken off he hadn't taken any clothing and left in a charcoal suit, a pressed white shirt and a deep blue tie. She gasped as he roughly ripped her shirt, tugging it off her as his mouth traveled to whatever naked skin he could find. Suddenly he paused, let out a broken gasp as he pulled away and rested his forehead on her shoulder.
"Cas?" she whispered concerned before he lifted his head and turned bright eyes to her own. His stubbled face was pale and he wetted his lips nervously, pink tongue darting out to glide across the pillowed flesh. Isabella felt her heartbeat pick up.
"I love you." He said seriously and steadily. And she blinked.
"I love you too." She said with confusion tingeing her tones. He sighed and lowered his eyes; sooty lashes brushing against the swell of his cheek.
"No…" he groaned frustrated. "I mean it. In an entirely human way. I don't just love you, the soul, the grace, the angel. I love you the woman. I love the way you taste beneath my lips and the sounds you make when I touch you, here and here." His hand settled between her legs and she gave a sharp gasp followed by a low moan as his hand move to cup a breast. "I love the feel of your heart beating with mine and how deeply and evenly you breath when you sleep. I love watching you brush your hair or paint your toenails, it's the sexiest thing I have ever seen." He said his voice husky as he reached out and twined a piece of her hair around his finger. His eyes flickered back up to hers. "Do you understand? How much I love you. The way I do?" She met his eyes with fierce determination.
"I understand, Castiel. And I love you too." She said seriously before drawing him closer. "I've missed you so much." She murmured against the skin of his neck.
"I too have missed you, physically, mentally and emotionally." He said between dipping his head and pressing his lips to hers when she turned her face to him.
Back at the motel room a silence had settled onto the group after arrival and departure of Castiel with Isabella in tow.
"Who was that?" Mary asked curiously. The other angel had looked vaguely familiar in a way. Sam sighed and knew that there was no beating around the bush.
"That was Castiel… Isabella's soul mate I guess and the angel that uhm... sprung Dean from Hell." John went still as Mary's hands flew to her mouth as she gasped.
"Is that why… I mean…" Mary stumbled over what she wanted to say before going silent.
"Yeah…" Sam said grimly.
"He uh… was there for forty years and uh… the angels sprung him out because of this whole apocalypse thing. He's their chosen one."
"Dean was in hell?" John asked tersely. Sam glanced at him before wincing and looked away.
"Before you ask… yeah. Alastair worked him over." John made a noise and looked at floor, a glazed look in his eyes. Mary glanced between them a question poised on her lips as the door of the motel room opened. The question was out of her mouth before she could take it back, and lord she wished she could.
"Wait? Who is Alastair?" she asked.
"Alastair is the demon who tortured me in hell. Picasso with a Razor." Dean said bitterly before sitting down on the closest bed and working his boots off. Eve fluttered around him anxiously, unsure what to do. The silence in the room was oppressive before Sam stood.
"I think that maybe we should continue this tomorrow." He said diplomatically.
"Now wait a minute, Sam! I want to hear this explanation!" John protested and Sam opened his mouth when Eve cut in.
"Its late, I'm drunk and tired. Dean's drunk and tired. Isabella is… with Castiel. Why don't we continue this pow-wow in the morning when most of the group isn't drunk and tired." Eve said evenly and opened the door to their room.
"Of course." Mary said and stood. She hugged her youngest before dropping a kiss on his cheek and turning to her oldest. Dean sat hunched at the edge of the bed as he worked off his boots, he did not lift his head until she cleared her throat. Only then did the man lift his head, hazel meeting hazel for a moment before his eyes flickered away from hers.
"Goodnight." He said gruffly and Mary drew back, disappointment flaring to life in her chest.
"Goodnight, Dean." She murmured softly before leaving the room.
Isabella awoke to Castiel's deep, even breaths as the pale dawn sunlight filtered into the hotel room they were in. Curious of their surroundings Isabella slipped from Castiel's grasp, the angel barely stirring as she gathered the impossibly soft sheet around her. There were French doors leading to a balcony so she tip toed outside where she had to blink in surprise. What looked like a mile away sat the Eiffel tower in all of its Parisian glory. A cool night breeze ghosted across her skin and she hitched the sheets higher and wrapped them tighter around her form. Behind her Castiel was stirring.
"The City of Love? Really?" She asked with a snort after she heard Castiel straighten in bed.
"I'm told it is the epitome of romance to be whisked away to Paris. For humans anyway." He said blithely as he came to stand behind her. He pressed his lips to her neck in a light kiss before wrapping his arms around her.
"It's a bit cliché but thank you." She said before turning in his arms and meeting his eyes.
"We have a lot to talk about." His voice was solemn and Isabella found herself frowning.
"Like what?"
"The Winchester's and your reckless decision to raise them." He deadpanned and Isabella drew backwards, away from him as she realized that Castiel was not happy about her and Raphael's decision.
"It needed to be done." She said shortly before turning away from him and pulling on her panties.
"It was unnecessary and reckless and Zachariah is not pleased."
"I don't care what Zachariah thinks or feels. I am God's right hand woman, Zachariah is beneath me." She shot back as she buttoned her jeans.
"They don't like what you've done. They're already looking for an excuse to seal you again, do not give them one." Castiel said in a pained voice. Isabella tensed and turned to face him, her shirt forgotten in her hands.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" She hissed while closing the distance between them.
"It means that they want to make you human again, make you forget. They want to take your Grace." He said, eyes not meeting hers.
"But why?" she asked as she finally remembered the shirt and pulled it on. The sound of beating wings reached her ears and she dropped her hand to wear her sword was.
"Because, darling, you rocked the boat." Raphael said after he appeared on the balcony. "Castiel." He said simply while inclining his head. He sat down on the plush bed and looked between them. "So Heaven is putting a discreet price on our heads?" he asked. And Castiel shook his head.
"Not yet. At least not that I know of. They're not pleased with your little resurrection." Raphael rolled his eyes.
"God told us to. He came to me in a dream." Castiel frowned.
"Angels don't dream." He said stiffly.
"Maybe not fussy good little soldiers… but others like myself? We do. So the question kiddies, is what are we going to do now?" The angel settled his green gaze on Isabella, automatically marking her as his leader.
"We wait. We keep our ear to the ground and an eye on our backs and fight to stay alive. We keep the Winchester's safe and try to stop the Apocalypse." She said in a steady voice.
"Well then, I will continue on my quest and you two should get back to the Winchester's." Raphael said before there was the sound of wings and he was gone. Awkward silence filled the air between the pair before Isabella spoke.
"Should I be worried that my lover is going to hogtie me and dump me in front of Zachariah?"
"Never. I was merely warning you that your actions have caught their attention. By the way, your other shoe is under the dresser."
"Oh. Thanks." Isabella retrieved her shoe and wedged it on before taking his outstretched hand. She shot one last glance at the messy room before her feet touched American soil.
Sam was outside when they arrived. The youngest Winchester was juggling two trays of drinks and a box of donuts as he walked away from the Impala. Startled by their appearance he almost dropped the drinks but Isabella quickly snatched them from his hands.
"Thanks." Sam grunted as he almost lost of the box of donuts. "Where have you guys been?" he asked as he opened the door to the motel room.
"Paris." Castiel said succinctly as he stepped inside of the packed room. One Winchester was conspicuously missing.
"Where's Dean?" Isabella asked as she distributed the coffee. Mary stared at drink she was handed with a confused look on her face.
"It's a Caramel Macchiato, I remember Dad saying once that you liked caramel…" Sam said nervously.
"Its basically fancy coffee." John explained and Mary took a small sip before a look of pleasure crossed her face.
"Starbucks… hmmm… this is pretty good." She said before settling the cup down and hugging Sam tightly. "Thank you, for remembering." She said before drawing back.
"Dean is sulking in the bathroom." Eve murmured to Isabella who rolled her eyes. Not bothering with any pretense she rapped on the door sharply.
"What?" Dean snarled.
"Dean Winchester, get your sorry ass out of the bathroom before I come in there and make you." She snarled back. There was short silence followed by under-the-breath curses and then the door opened. The Hunter was fully dressed and his hair was damp.
"Great! Now that Dean has joined us let's get started." Eve said brightly a hint of sarcasm coloring her tones.
"Started with what?" Sam asked as he polished off his second donut.
"Started with our plan of action." Isabella said as she looked around the room. "We have a lot of work to do and a limited amount of time. Why don't we all get in our respective vehicles and head to Bobby's before we get started on any plans?"
"Sounds fine to me." John said while standing. "Mary and I will take the truck."
"The rest of us in the Impala." Sam said with a nod.
"Alright, let's move out." John said before polishing off his coffee. Everyone scrambled to retrieve their bags and move out to the cars and Isabella managed to catch Sam alone.
"I want to talk, later, after we get to Bobby's about what you've been up to. For now though, call Ruby and ask for some hex bags. Heaven isn't happy about Raphael and me taking the situation into our hands and resurrecting your parents so we need to keep a low profile."
"The hex bags won't work forever you know." Sam pointed out and Isabella nodded.
"I know and there are more permanent ways but let's go with the hex bags for now."
"Okay… and Izzie?"
"Yeah Sam?"
"Thanks… for you know not being an angel about it."
"You mean not killing you the moment I found out?" Sam let out a nervous laugh.
"Yeah, that's what I mean."
"No problem, besides we need you."
A/N: So… how's everyone been? Oh god! Don't shoot me! I'm too pretty to die! Well… anyway, let me just say that this chapter has been waiting on a dead computer for almost a year. I was almost done with it last November when my computer crashed and a friend was supposed to fix it but then there was a lot of hemming and hawing and I told myself. Okay Phil's obviously not going to do but I have no money for the Geek Squad. Then I went through this absolutely horrendous rushed move in which my relatives sold the house and told us we had a month to move. There was a lot of scrambling to find a suitable place for five people and we thought we found a great place up until a few days before we had to be out. My mom's boyfriend checked it out and found a shit ton of health violations, painted shut windows, black mold, you know the usual. So there we were, about to be homeless because of greed when miracles of miracles we found an awesome place. Anyway, I finally took my computer to the geek squad and found out it was fucked but they could pulled all of my files off and put them onto a nice new external hard drive. And then I tweaked the chapter, fixed a few things and here it is. Sorry for the ridiculously long wait everyone! I'm an asshole. So… my prediction of the season is that Chuck is Jesus… we shall see. There are also things I need to address… I will not be doing the whole Adam Winchester thing, I already have one Adam that's a jackass I don't need another mucking up everything. I will go into season five but at most it will all be covered in about five (really long) chapters, a lot will be skipped over except for the essentials. Future Cas and Isabella, oh and Dean. The Four Horsemen, Castiel's increasing humanity, Dean's blackhole of a soul, Sam… being guilty and angsty and Sam-ish, Bobby wheelchair bound and… I think that about covers it! Wait also Crowley cuz I love him. Seriously. Love. Him. Anyway Swan Song will be vastly different… as you can imagine so in all likelihood season six is non-existent. As such, chapters will probably longer but fewer between, I know, I know, it sucks but I'm trying to focus on more original writing. Which brings me to the questions of… do you guys think that if I did a massive over haul could Absolution become an original story?
Thanks to: Zombies are evil, xburner21, Supernatural Believer, Supernatural Anomaly, jenni10121, ImmortalRoseOfTheThrons, Haruka Munashii, CrazySailorJohnny, chocolatemud, Kathie2808, Jenicky, ImmatureEvil, Foscarrelli, Fighter37, and Dead Roses Of Hate
Replies:
chocolatemud: Yup, things got crazy for these past chapters…things with Eve are definitely going to get better. Sorry it took so long to update…
Kathie2808: LOL, thank you very much! I hope I didn't make you fail your exam… then I'd feel like a jerk…
InLoveAndCrazy: Indeed, welcome to the party! Took you long enough get here, lol, I'm glad you found the party and thank you so much for joining us.
TheAFanFicWriter: Definitely continuing, there's probably going to be ten, maybe fifteen more chapters of the story, there's more in detail above in ye olde author note.