But Not Forgotten: Part Six
Part Six
It’d taken a while, but eventually Dean knew when to call it quits. Even his ego could take only so much of a beating. So Dean left Rory with the angel sword, letting him show off for his wife while Dean explored. It was kind of like being in the world’s biggest, ever changing fun house; rooms within rooms, a swimming pool hanging suspended from the ceiling, a library that stretched on to infinity (which had a frightening amount of trashy romance novels and a complete collection of the works of Carver Ellund, much to Dean’s dismay), a room like standing in the middle of a field of stars (Sammy, you shoulda seen this) and God only knew what else. He wandered aimlessly for hours, taking a nap in the first bedroom he found (decked out in tacky green shag carpeting and yellow walls, with a paisley bedspread), before finally finding his way back to the main consol.
Okay, maybe Dean had been a little lost. Just a little. No big deal.
“Yo, Doc! You and Cas ready to get this show on the road?” Dean called. The Doctor was playing with something ringing loudly amidst all the lights and levers and fucking typewriters. Castiel turned towards Dean as Dean climbed up onto the glass platform, just watching him in that creepy way that Dean had talked to Cas about. Closer inspection showed that the Doctor was playing with what looked like most of an old television; the screen was buzzing and showing snow, with a vague suggestion of a person just barely visible as the alien fiddled. The Doctor hit the side of the television screen with his screwdriver, and suddenly the image was coming in crisp and clear.
"Martha Jones!" the Doctor crowed, adjusting the bulky television screen. "You're looking well, love the new hair! Afraid I'm a bit busy at the moment..."
Dean turned away, rolling his eyes. Dealing with the Doctor was like dealing with a hyperactive five year old, and it was starting to get on Dean's nerves. They had an archangel to kill, an Apocalypse to stop, and the jackass was chatting up an old girlfriend like they had all the time in the world. Bad enough the other skinny English geek had taken the angel sword away from him.
"I guess you can't spare a moment, then?" the pretty black woman said with a slightly dramatic sigh. "I've managed to bite off a bit more than I can chew."
"If he can't help, we should probably get going, Martha -- hey, is that-?"
Once again, Dean Winchester's world shifted, tilting sideways. Another familiar voice from a lifetime ago reached his ears, stabbing him right in the gut with pain that Dean had been doing his best to ignore. "Sammy?" He spun around, pushing the Doctor out of his way so he could see the screen. And there he was, Sam Winchester, crowding in next to Martha, with his big stupid grin and his stupid long hair.
"Dean!"
"That's your brother?" Martha asked, and Dean watched Sam nod, a thousand things trying to get out of his mouth all at once, keeping him from saying anything at all.
"God, you have no idea how glad I am to see you!" Sam said. Dean was pretty sure he could see tears in his brother's big, stupid eyes. He'd tease Sam about them later. Sam turned away. "Nathaniel, we found Dean!"
Typical of the universe; it raised Dean's hopes so high, only to stomp all over them again. Dean barely had time to bark out, "Sam, get outta there!" before a pair of small hands reached between Martha and Sam, touching their foreheads and sending them both slumping to the ground and out of sight. Dean heard the Doctor say Martha's name, but he couldn't care less about that. Another face filled the screen, an ordinary looking young woman with straight hair and a bit of baby fat.
"Hello, Dean Winchester, Doctor," she said calmly as Dean swore loudly, gripping the screen as if he could reach through it and strangle the bitch. "I'm going to make you an offer, and I suggest you give it your full consideration. As you can see, I have your brother. He is alive and unharmed, and he will remain that way. If you want him back, you will turn Donna Temple-Noble over to me. Then I will give you Sam, and release Martha Jones and Mickey Smith. Attempt to attack me, and they will die, starting with Mickey. When you are ready to make the trade, pray for me. Do not keep me waiting."
The screen went black, and Dean immediately rounded on Castiel, grabbing him by the lapels of his overcoat and pinning him against the consol. “How long has Sam been alive?” he demanded.
“I don’t know. I’m as surprised as you are.”
Dean was willing to admit, Cas did look surprised. “How?”
“I don’t know! Lucifer’s cage is impenetrable, and Crowley keeps it guarded. I couldn’t even get close.” Cas wrapped his hands around Dean’s wrists, making him let go. “I don’t know how Raphael could get anyone there, let alone get Sam out.”
“How would you even know?” Dean growled as Cas forced him back.
“Did you think I didn’t try?”
That got Dean to Stop, just for a moment. Cas looked at Dean like he‘d been accused of killing puppies in front of orphans, and when he took stock of the rest of the room, he found that the Doctor, Rory, and Amy had all put themselves between Dean and Donna. Donna, for her part, looked like she was going to be sick.
“Dean,” Cas said. “Dean. Raphael will end the world if he gets Donna.”
“They have Sam.” A lifetime of protecting Sam did not just go away after four months of thinking his brother was dead. He’d failed before, but he wasn’t going to fail his brother again. He’d burn the whole world down if that’s what it took to get Sam back.
The Doctor looked like he was thinking the exact same thing about Donna. Cas’s hand fell on Dean’s upper arm, squeezing it tightly as he hissed, “This is not a fight you can win.” Dean shook the angel off; he had eyes only for Donna as his mind raced.
“The firebug’s got Martha and Mickey.” Donna’s voice cut through the tension like a hot knife through butter, snapping the Doctor’s attention away from Dean. “You two wanna get all stupid and macho over me, fine. I’m gonna work on a way to save everyone.” She sniffed pointedly, giving Dean and the Doctor equally arch looks. “Personally, I’m getting tired of having to run from that girl anyway.”
“Dean,” Cas whispered urgently, as if hoping the tone could somehow make Dean see reason, his hand going back to Dean’s arm, over the hand shaped brand. The angel’s skin felt burning hot even through the t-shirt. “If they get Donna, everyone dies. Even Sam. She’s too important. ”
“Mind directing any comments about me to me, Scruffy?” Donna snapped.
“Donna,” the Doctor hissed in the same tone Castiel tried to use on Dean, “I can’t let you-”
“You want a slap? Cause I’ve got one here in my pocket, just for you.” Donna put a hand on Rory’s shoulder and grinned at Amy. “You two seem to be the only ones here not involved in the pissing contest. Care to help?”
“I’m always up for saving the world,” Amy told her brightly, linking her arm through Donna’s.
“That’s settled, then.” Donna walked arm and arm out of the consol room, Rory following after. “Call us when you’re done fighting, yeah?”
***
There were so many questions Raphael wanted to ask. After all, it wasn’t often the archangel was actually taken by surprise, especially by a cherub.
Nathaniel was sitting beside Lucifer’s unconscious vessel, nudging the legs of one of the other two hostages aside so she had room on the bed, looking at Raphael with her usual expression of puppy like adoration. “I am… surprised, sister.”
Nathaniel dropped her gaze to the floor, as was only proper for one as unimportant as her when addressing her superior. “I apologize for not contacting you sooner. I’ve been having to improvise more than I’d thought I would, and I didn’t want to alert Castiel before I was ready.”
“But he knows now,” Raphael noted.
“It was unavoidable.”
“Just as well.” Raphael nodded to himself, the new plan already coming together in his thoughts. “Even if the Righteous Man comes alone, Castiel will follow, and we will have him and the woman. We will have them all.”
Nathaniel looked up, puzzled. “Brother?”
Raphael waved his hand, smiling. “Nothing to concern yourself with. Your plan serves me very well, and I want you to continue on as you have.”
“…Yes, Raphael.” Nathaniel said after a moment’s pause. She slid off the bed, straighten her jacket before she spoke again, as if summoning up the courage to speak. “There is a… small problem, however.” Raphael’s gaze turned harsh as suddenly as a spring day going from fair to foul, and she squirmed. “The demons. They’ve been following us since I retrieved Sam, and I am not so powerful as to conceal us completely. Until now, they’ve proven to be only a minimal distraction, but…” She gestured to the three unconscious humans, and Raphael nodded with sudden understanding. Dead hostages did no one any good. At least, not until the time they had finished serving their purpose.
“I’ll see that you are protected until the time comes,” Raphael assured the cherub. “You just play your part, and I’ll handle the rest.”
***
“She’ll be expecting the call to come from me,” Dean pointed out, his way of announcing himself to the room. The trio of Brits had set themselves up in a place that could have passed for a war room from dozens of movies, maps tacked to the walls and books spread out over the single table, with the three gathered around it.
Donna didn’t bother to glance up. “Um-hum.”
“So you need me, unless you’ve got a better way to lure her in.” Dean went on, feeling more and more uncomfortable under Rory’s watchful gaze.
“Different,” Donna corrected. “But yeah, this’ll be easier.”
***
The Doctor and Castiel eyed each other uneasily. Of course, no one should ever really be at ease when two ancient beings of unimaginable power were in the same space, even when the two were in complete agreement with each other instead of wondering if they were about to throw down over their human companions.
Because both of them knew that in the end, the Doctor would do whatever it took to keep Donna safe and rescue Martha and Mickey, and no matter what the cost, Castiel would always choose Dean.
So once again, the fate of the world rested on Dean’s unknowing shoulders.
“How do we find the angel?” Rory asked. “It’s all well and good that she’ll come to Dean, but how do we know she’ll even bring any of the hostages along?”
“Nathaniel would bring Sam,” Castiel said. “The cherub has never been inclined towards deception, and will deal fairly with Dean until the trap is sprung.”
“Yeah, cause angels are all about the honesty,” Dean mumbled darkly.
“I can find Martha,” the Doctor informed them, “the same way I found Donna.”
“Nathaniel isn’t likely to let Martha out of her sight until the deal is made, and she wouldn‘t bother to keep her bargaining chips in separate places” Castiel added, already seeing where the Doctor’s plan was going. “So even if she should leave Sam behind, we’ll be able to rescue him.”
“Meanwhile, me and Donna catch ourselves an angel.” Dean grinned, entirely without any of the warmth and humor one would expect from such an expression. “So I set down nearby and place my call while take the hideout. All we need now is a little holy oil.”
***
Alright, you evil feathery bitch, I’m here. I want to make the trade.
Nathaniel did a little jig of glee as Dean Winchester gave her an address, berating her all the while. It didn’t matter that the Righteous Man was threatening to rip her wings out and use the feathers to stuff pillows; all that mattered was that things were going to be alright again. She turned to Sam, and the smile that had been splitting her face faded away. Sam was still unconscious, sprawled on the bed between Martha and Mickey. He wasn’t awake to see her triumph, and wasn’t likely to be awake until after he was safely in his brother’s hands. Nathaniel walked around the bed, reaching over Martha to press her fingers to Sam’s forehead, sending him deeper into sleep.
“It’s almost over,” Nathaniel assured the unconscious man, picking Sam up. He made for an awkward load, so much larger than her vessel and limp as a rag doll. If she were anything but an angel, she wouldn’t have been able to lift Sam at all.
There would be no need to come back -- Mickey and Martha would wake on their own and walk right back into their lives if they wished, until the coming of Paradise.
Nathaniel knew where Dean was now -- he wasn’t even all that far away. Donna would be there; Dean Winchester wouldn’t take any risks, not with Sam.
Nathaniel concentrated on Dean Winchester’s location, teleporting herself and Sam away. Five minutes later, an angel died as the others fled, and a man who once waited for nearly two thousand years strode into the room.
Part Seven
It’d taken a while, but eventually Dean knew when to call it quits. Even his ego could take only so much of a beating. So Dean left Rory with the angel sword, letting him show off for his wife while Dean explored. It was kind of like being in the world’s biggest, ever changing fun house; rooms within rooms, a swimming pool hanging suspended from the ceiling, a library that stretched on to infinity (which had a frightening amount of trashy romance novels and a complete collection of the works of Carver Ellund, much to Dean’s dismay), a room like standing in the middle of a field of stars (Sammy, you shoulda seen this) and God only knew what else. He wandered aimlessly for hours, taking a nap in the first bedroom he found (decked out in tacky green shag carpeting and yellow walls, with a paisley bedspread), before finally finding his way back to the main consol.
Okay, maybe Dean had been a little lost. Just a little. No big deal.
“Yo, Doc! You and Cas ready to get this show on the road?” Dean called. The Doctor was playing with something ringing loudly amidst all the lights and levers and fucking typewriters. Castiel turned towards Dean as Dean climbed up onto the glass platform, just watching him in that creepy way that Dean had talked to Cas about. Closer inspection showed that the Doctor was playing with what looked like most of an old television; the screen was buzzing and showing snow, with a vague suggestion of a person just barely visible as the alien fiddled. The Doctor hit the side of the television screen with his screwdriver, and suddenly the image was coming in crisp and clear.
"Martha Jones!" the Doctor crowed, adjusting the bulky television screen. "You're looking well, love the new hair! Afraid I'm a bit busy at the moment..."
Dean turned away, rolling his eyes. Dealing with the Doctor was like dealing with a hyperactive five year old, and it was starting to get on Dean's nerves. They had an archangel to kill, an Apocalypse to stop, and the jackass was chatting up an old girlfriend like they had all the time in the world. Bad enough the other skinny English geek had taken the angel sword away from him.
"I guess you can't spare a moment, then?" the pretty black woman said with a slightly dramatic sigh. "I've managed to bite off a bit more than I can chew."
"If he can't help, we should probably get going, Martha -- hey, is that-?"
Once again, Dean Winchester's world shifted, tilting sideways. Another familiar voice from a lifetime ago reached his ears, stabbing him right in the gut with pain that Dean had been doing his best to ignore. "Sammy?" He spun around, pushing the Doctor out of his way so he could see the screen. And there he was, Sam Winchester, crowding in next to Martha, with his big stupid grin and his stupid long hair.
"Dean!"
"That's your brother?" Martha asked, and Dean watched Sam nod, a thousand things trying to get out of his mouth all at once, keeping him from saying anything at all.
"God, you have no idea how glad I am to see you!" Sam said. Dean was pretty sure he could see tears in his brother's big, stupid eyes. He'd tease Sam about them later. Sam turned away. "Nathaniel, we found Dean!"
Typical of the universe; it raised Dean's hopes so high, only to stomp all over them again. Dean barely had time to bark out, "Sam, get outta there!" before a pair of small hands reached between Martha and Sam, touching their foreheads and sending them both slumping to the ground and out of sight. Dean heard the Doctor say Martha's name, but he couldn't care less about that. Another face filled the screen, an ordinary looking young woman with straight hair and a bit of baby fat.
"Hello, Dean Winchester, Doctor," she said calmly as Dean swore loudly, gripping the screen as if he could reach through it and strangle the bitch. "I'm going to make you an offer, and I suggest you give it your full consideration. As you can see, I have your brother. He is alive and unharmed, and he will remain that way. If you want him back, you will turn Donna Temple-Noble over to me. Then I will give you Sam, and release Martha Jones and Mickey Smith. Attempt to attack me, and they will die, starting with Mickey. When you are ready to make the trade, pray for me. Do not keep me waiting."
The screen went black, and Dean immediately rounded on Castiel, grabbing him by the lapels of his overcoat and pinning him against the consol. “How long has Sam been alive?” he demanded.
“I don’t know. I’m as surprised as you are.”
Dean was willing to admit, Cas did look surprised. “How?”
“I don’t know! Lucifer’s cage is impenetrable, and Crowley keeps it guarded. I couldn’t even get close.” Cas wrapped his hands around Dean’s wrists, making him let go. “I don’t know how Raphael could get anyone there, let alone get Sam out.”
“How would you even know?” Dean growled as Cas forced him back.
“Did you think I didn’t try?”
That got Dean to Stop, just for a moment. Cas looked at Dean like he‘d been accused of killing puppies in front of orphans, and when he took stock of the rest of the room, he found that the Doctor, Rory, and Amy had all put themselves between Dean and Donna. Donna, for her part, looked like she was going to be sick.
“Dean,” Cas said. “Dean. Raphael will end the world if he gets Donna.”
“They have Sam.” A lifetime of protecting Sam did not just go away after four months of thinking his brother was dead. He’d failed before, but he wasn’t going to fail his brother again. He’d burn the whole world down if that’s what it took to get Sam back.
The Doctor looked like he was thinking the exact same thing about Donna. Cas’s hand fell on Dean’s upper arm, squeezing it tightly as he hissed, “This is not a fight you can win.” Dean shook the angel off; he had eyes only for Donna as his mind raced.
“The firebug’s got Martha and Mickey.” Donna’s voice cut through the tension like a hot knife through butter, snapping the Doctor’s attention away from Dean. “You two wanna get all stupid and macho over me, fine. I’m gonna work on a way to save everyone.” She sniffed pointedly, giving Dean and the Doctor equally arch looks. “Personally, I’m getting tired of having to run from that girl anyway.”
“Dean,” Cas whispered urgently, as if hoping the tone could somehow make Dean see reason, his hand going back to Dean’s arm, over the hand shaped brand. The angel’s skin felt burning hot even through the t-shirt. “If they get Donna, everyone dies. Even Sam. She’s too important. ”
“Mind directing any comments about me to me, Scruffy?” Donna snapped.
“Donna,” the Doctor hissed in the same tone Castiel tried to use on Dean, “I can’t let you-”
“You want a slap? Cause I’ve got one here in my pocket, just for you.” Donna put a hand on Rory’s shoulder and grinned at Amy. “You two seem to be the only ones here not involved in the pissing contest. Care to help?”
“I’m always up for saving the world,” Amy told her brightly, linking her arm through Donna’s.
“That’s settled, then.” Donna walked arm and arm out of the consol room, Rory following after. “Call us when you’re done fighting, yeah?”
***
There were so many questions Raphael wanted to ask. After all, it wasn’t often the archangel was actually taken by surprise, especially by a cherub.
Nathaniel was sitting beside Lucifer’s unconscious vessel, nudging the legs of one of the other two hostages aside so she had room on the bed, looking at Raphael with her usual expression of puppy like adoration. “I am… surprised, sister.”
Nathaniel dropped her gaze to the floor, as was only proper for one as unimportant as her when addressing her superior. “I apologize for not contacting you sooner. I’ve been having to improvise more than I’d thought I would, and I didn’t want to alert Castiel before I was ready.”
“But he knows now,” Raphael noted.
“It was unavoidable.”
“Just as well.” Raphael nodded to himself, the new plan already coming together in his thoughts. “Even if the Righteous Man comes alone, Castiel will follow, and we will have him and the woman. We will have them all.”
Nathaniel looked up, puzzled. “Brother?”
Raphael waved his hand, smiling. “Nothing to concern yourself with. Your plan serves me very well, and I want you to continue on as you have.”
“…Yes, Raphael.” Nathaniel said after a moment’s pause. She slid off the bed, straighten her jacket before she spoke again, as if summoning up the courage to speak. “There is a… small problem, however.” Raphael’s gaze turned harsh as suddenly as a spring day going from fair to foul, and she squirmed. “The demons. They’ve been following us since I retrieved Sam, and I am not so powerful as to conceal us completely. Until now, they’ve proven to be only a minimal distraction, but…” She gestured to the three unconscious humans, and Raphael nodded with sudden understanding. Dead hostages did no one any good. At least, not until the time they had finished serving their purpose.
“I’ll see that you are protected until the time comes,” Raphael assured the cherub. “You just play your part, and I’ll handle the rest.”
***
“She’ll be expecting the call to come from me,” Dean pointed out, his way of announcing himself to the room. The trio of Brits had set themselves up in a place that could have passed for a war room from dozens of movies, maps tacked to the walls and books spread out over the single table, with the three gathered around it.
Donna didn’t bother to glance up. “Um-hum.”
“So you need me, unless you’ve got a better way to lure her in.” Dean went on, feeling more and more uncomfortable under Rory’s watchful gaze.
“Different,” Donna corrected. “But yeah, this’ll be easier.”
***
The Doctor and Castiel eyed each other uneasily. Of course, no one should ever really be at ease when two ancient beings of unimaginable power were in the same space, even when the two were in complete agreement with each other instead of wondering if they were about to throw down over their human companions.
Because both of them knew that in the end, the Doctor would do whatever it took to keep Donna safe and rescue Martha and Mickey, and no matter what the cost, Castiel would always choose Dean.
So once again, the fate of the world rested on Dean’s unknowing shoulders.
“How do we find the angel?” Rory asked. “It’s all well and good that she’ll come to Dean, but how do we know she’ll even bring any of the hostages along?”
“Nathaniel would bring Sam,” Castiel said. “The cherub has never been inclined towards deception, and will deal fairly with Dean until the trap is sprung.”
“Yeah, cause angels are all about the honesty,” Dean mumbled darkly.
“I can find Martha,” the Doctor informed them, “the same way I found Donna.”
“Nathaniel isn’t likely to let Martha out of her sight until the deal is made, and she wouldn‘t bother to keep her bargaining chips in separate places” Castiel added, already seeing where the Doctor’s plan was going. “So even if she should leave Sam behind, we’ll be able to rescue him.”
“Meanwhile, me and Donna catch ourselves an angel.” Dean grinned, entirely without any of the warmth and humor one would expect from such an expression. “So I set down nearby and place my call while take the hideout. All we need now is a little holy oil.”
***
Alright, you evil feathery bitch, I’m here. I want to make the trade.
Nathaniel did a little jig of glee as Dean Winchester gave her an address, berating her all the while. It didn’t matter that the Righteous Man was threatening to rip her wings out and use the feathers to stuff pillows; all that mattered was that things were going to be alright again. She turned to Sam, and the smile that had been splitting her face faded away. Sam was still unconscious, sprawled on the bed between Martha and Mickey. He wasn’t awake to see her triumph, and wasn’t likely to be awake until after he was safely in his brother’s hands. Nathaniel walked around the bed, reaching over Martha to press her fingers to Sam’s forehead, sending him deeper into sleep.
“It’s almost over,” Nathaniel assured the unconscious man, picking Sam up. He made for an awkward load, so much larger than her vessel and limp as a rag doll. If she were anything but an angel, she wouldn’t have been able to lift Sam at all.
There would be no need to come back -- Mickey and Martha would wake on their own and walk right back into their lives if they wished, until the coming of Paradise.
Nathaniel knew where Dean was now -- he wasn’t even all that far away. Donna would be there; Dean Winchester wouldn’t take any risks, not with Sam.
Nathaniel concentrated on Dean Winchester’s location, teleporting herself and Sam away. Five minutes later, an angel died as the others fled, and a man who once waited for nearly two thousand years strode into the room.
Part Seven