I feel so far from where I've been 1/3
Part One
It looked like the first day of spring. Patches of snow glittered in the early afternoon light. Flowers grew in the middle of the snow, their colors bright and vivid, truly a beautiful contrast. The atmosphere was peaceful in this part of paradise, and for the lonely angel sitting on the bench near the pond, peace was what he needed.
Castiel looked up from his joined hands. A girl of about seven ran in front of him, laughing gaily, her long red scarf adding another sharp contrast against the brightness of the snow. She had died of pneumonia in the early 1800s. This scenery was the last time she remembered being outside before being bed-ridden until her death. Castiel had not wanted to risk going back to his usual paradise. Raphael and his minions already knew about it. Heaven was limitless and held countless such little paradises. Castiel wasn't ready to face his elder archangel brother just yet.
All Raphael wanted was to free Michael and Lucifer from the Cage and to get the Apocalypse moving once again. If he succeeded, all the efforts it had taken from Castiel, Bobby Singer and the Winchester brothers to prevent it in the first place would be wasted. When Crowley, the newly crowned King of Hell, came to him and offered half the souls from Purgatory, Castiel had accepted. These souls would make him powerful enough to fight Raphael. Only now, the angel doubted his course of actions. What if making such a deal had been in fact a tremendous mistake?
When God had brought Castiel back after Lucifer smote him, the angel had been sure it was God's benediction to guide his brothers and sisters toward the path of free will. He had been so resolute then. He had no doubts. He even brought Sam Winchester back from Hell, as a gift for Dean. But while Sam's body returned, his soul had stayed behind. That should have been his warning. Castiel ignored it as he had ignored so many others since, blinded by his pride and immutable sense of purpose.
Until now.
When he came back to the Host, his brothers and sisters were there with open arms. Right then, Castiel wanted to start teaching them about Free Will and the right to make their own decisions. Unfortunately, they had witnessed his struggle against Lucifer, and his ensuing resurrection. They saw him as their new leader, as God's new favorite. Castiel felt ashamed to admit it; he appreciated seeing such respect and the awe shine in their eyes.
Raphael had quickly put a stop to the angel's presumptions. With his cold indifferent voice, the archangel mocked Castiel's pretensions. He laid two choices in front of the younger angel; join Raphael to hasten the Apocalypse again or die again. Castiel refused. He hadn't prevented it before just to face another one again. To say Raphael was displeased would be an understatement. Castiel preferred to say his big brother knocked him into the next week. For a while, the angel wondered why Raphael hadn't killed him. He guessed he wasn't an important enough player, despite his previous rebellious acts against the Host. Maybe Raphael unconsciously felt enough celestial's blood had been shed. Maybe this was the reason why he decided not to see his threat through and let Castiel live as a warning.
After the confrontation with the archangel, Castiel returned to Earth to seek the help of the only person he would trust without hesitation. Sadly, Dean had settled into some kind of civilian life. He lived with a woman and her son and had stopped hunting. Sam had never contacted his brother since his return and was hunting with the grandfather he never met when he was alive. Even thought Castiel needed help, he just could not bring Dean back to the hunting life. Especially if Sam had preferred leaving his brother alone.
That's when Crowley approached him and shared his plan of invading Purgatory to gain access to the souls trapped inside. If Castiel agreed to help him, he would get half of these souls. With them, he would have enough power to control Heaven while Crowley would use his to cement his dominion of Hell. Since monsters' souls did not go to Heaven or Hell, the plan was to find all the alphas - the firstborn of every monster races - and find the way into Purgatory. If that did not work, maybe Castiel and Crowley could get their hands on Eve, the mother of all, and get some answers from her. As proof of good will, Crowley lend the angel 50 000 souls from Hell. With each soul, Castiel grew stronger and soon, he was able to establish a standstill against Raphael.
Meanwhile, Dean had been attacked by the spawns of a Djinn he killed years ago. They had claimed revenge and Sam got there in time to save his life. When Dean realized his younger brother was alive, he did not understand why Sam had not contacted him. Sam told him he hadn't wanted his brother go back to the hunter life since he had settled and looked happy.
Looking back, Castiel could see when he first started doubting his decision. Sam's soul had been left in the Cage yet Samuel Campbell, whom Crowley had resurrected to do his dirty work, was whole. How could a demon do what an angel could not? Despite this, Castiel kept his part of the deal. He worked in the Light, while the demon kept to the shadows. When the brothers got too near the truth, Crowley staged his death with Castiel's help. For a while, things were as normal as Castiel's life could be. But Eve's death changed everything. She told the Winchester that Crowley was still alive and soon, too soon, they were able to put the pieces of the puzzle back together. They found out about Castiel's deal and lost the trust they had invested in him. When Crowley kidnapped Dean's woman and her boy, Castiel realized he had lost all control and was now, for all intents and purposes, working under the orders of a demon.
The angel dropped his head into his hands. If only he had had some signs that proved him right. God remained silent to all his prayers and pleas, thought Castiel had expected it, even if he hoped otherwise. He sighed; he could not keep acting like this. Deep down, he knew accepting Crowley's offer was wrong. Suddenly, acting on what the humans referred as a 'gut feeling', Castiel took his final decision. If God would not answer his prayers, he would take action on his own. Castiel only hoped he still had time to correct the mistake he made.
A sudden gust of wind broke his reverie. Alarmed, Castiel looked around. The little girl kept playing in the snow, unaware of the changes in her little paradise. It could only mean one thing: Raphael had found him. Castiel flew away; knowing now wasn't the time to face the archangel yet.
He landed on a path leading away from the garden. A hand shot out from the bushes and roughly grabbed him by the elbow. Before he could react, Castiel was pushed through an open door that had appeared from nowhere, and inside a dark room. Hearing the door closed behind him, Castiel spun around to face his assailant. “Easy there, Feathers. We have to talk about my boys.” The angel watched as John Winchester walked out of the shadows and stared right back at him.
***
Castiel took a seat at one of the empty tables. John sat down in front of him. For a while, neither spoke. Castiel found this to be... fascinating. Dean had often told him his unwavering stare was considered rude to most humans. Yet, the soul in front of him looked at him boldly and without fear.
Wanting a moment to collect his thoughts, Castiel looked around the paradise John Winchester's soul had created for himself. It was a typical roadside bar, complete with a sitting area in the corner where they sat and arcade machines in the other. In the middle, right in front of the door, was the bar. Another soul sat on one of the bar stools, watching at a computer screen in deep concentration. Castiel frowned slightly. He could read the graphs shown on the screen from where he sat. Somehow, they looked familiar. He blinked, that soul had mastered the angelic language!
The male soul looked up from the computer screen, turned around and, spotting the angel, pointed back at the screen, saying “Dude! You are SO the major topic on the angel radio!” Castiel scowled. Those were the words Dean used to refer to about the talk amongst the angels. Did this man know the Winchester? What was he doing in John's paradise for he was not a memory for the older hunter, it really was another soul. Since angels usually prevented souls to mingle - less chance of rebellion Castiel would say - it was a miracle they haven't been found out yet.
His line of thoughts was interrupted when he noticed the Enochian symbols drawn on the walls and doors for the first time. Neither angel nor archangel could get inside this room. It also meant Castiel was trapped inside his bodily vessel, with no access to his powers. He glared at John, who hadn't moved a muscle. “Never underestimate Ash.” the hunter said, making a vague gesture toward the counter.
A sudden stinging pain cut the angel's retort short. Castiel rubbed the back of his head and watched as Ellen walked from behind him to stand by John. Castiel frowned. Either his senses were dulled by the wards around him or this soul had mastered the uncannily ability to move around undetected. “That's for consorting with demons!” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.
“You have some explaining to do.” John said, leaning over the table.
Castiel was confused. Surely these two did not expect him to explain himself. Yet, it appeared to be the case. “You better start, angel. Or we're not letting you go.” Ellen said. Castiel knew she was right. He had been discreetly trying to use his powers since he'd arrived with no avail. He was trapped. “Why don't you start at the beginning?” John said. Castiel looked at him, then at Ellen who sat down beside him and told his story. He told them everything: his rebellion against Raphael, his reasons for dealing with Crowley, Sam's release from Hell and the lost of his soul, his own doubts about the outcomes of his actions.
Once the story was told, Castiel simply stopped talking. He was a little shocked by how easy it had been. Surprisingly, he felt relieved. Maybe it had been the right thing to do, after all. Looking up, Castiel noticed the guy named Ash had joined their table too. “Dude, that's one major screw up job you did.” Ash said, taking a swing from his beer bottle.
“Why did you stop trusting them, Castiel?” John asked.
“I never stop trusting them. Dean had settled and had found peace at last. I thought bringing Sam back would make him believe that balance existed and that good deeds were compensated. I could not ask him to fight beside me after all they've been through.”
A memory floated in Castiel's mind. He remembered the day Crowley came to him. Castiel stood, invisible, in Dean's backyard, watching his friend busying himself with domestic chores. He remembered being unable to reveal himself and tell the man he had come to think as a brother-in-arms that the Apocalypse hadn't been stopped but merely postponed. Castiel needed to tell him his help was needed again to fight off Raphael. Looking back now, it was easy to see how he had fallen for Crowley's offer. Castiel now understood the irony of the saying 'Hell is paved with good intentions'.
“Cheer up, angel.” Ellen said, shoving him gently.
“I cannot. I have failed them. I have failed the trust they had put in me.”
“Trust an angel to state the obvious.” Ash said. He stood up and walked back to his computer screen while the rest stayed at the table, in silence.
“OK, there's no need to beat around the bushes.”Ellen said in a brusque manner. “You go back, clean up your mess and stop all this opening of the Purgatory nonsense. I would have thought angels a little more clever and avoid repeating mistakes that have made too many times already.”
Castiel blinked, surprised by strangely sounded like an order. A human soul giving an angel an order. As much as he knew, only Dean dared order him around. Yet, the woman was right and the angel looked at her with a new found respect. Ellen simply looked back, as if somehow she could read his inner thoughts. “I will go back.” he said, his voice echoing in the empty room. And for the first time, Castiel felt like himself again.
***
Ellen smiled and patted Castiel on the shoulder. “That's the spirit.” she said. John looked at her and back at the angel in front of him. “Not alone you're not.” he said. The hunter had taken his decision. This was his one chance to settle the scores with his immortal conscience. As Castiel said, his boys had already done enough. It was time to bring in a new player. Castiel looked at him in disbelief. The angel seemed to doubt his seriousness. He died five years ago and his body was burned to ashes. He knew Castiel would argue there would be no way to resurrect him, IF he agreed to resurrected him. Nevertheless, John looked at him with the exact same expression Dean had when his choice had been made. Nothing could change the young man's mind, just like nothing would change John's mind. Stubbornness visibly ran in this family. “It won't be an easy feat, bringing you back.” Castiel said.
“Are you telling me you're too weak to do what Crowley did to Campbell?” John asked shrewdly.
Castiel visibly bristled at the question, his pride piqued. “I said it would be difficult, not impossible.” he said in a curt voice, as he often did when annoyed by humans. “Crowley had access to the total power of Hell to back him whereas I am alone.” John wondered how much it wounded him to admit such a weakness. He was one of the Lord's agents while John was simply human soul. He should be obeying Castiel's orders rather than questioning them. Yet, as Castiel had learned from his dealing with the Winchester's family, blind faith and obedience weren't part of their vocabulary.
Then Castiel's face lit up. “I know one who can help.” the angel said.
***
“Now that's a marvelous idea.” John said as they landed in front of Regina's, one of Boston's most notorious pizzeria.
“Death seems to have developed a taste for human's junk food, especially the type they spread over large amounts of tasteless dough” Castiel said, also watching the building. Both were invisible to those walking around. Castiel was a little upset that John had tagged along but the hunter had been beyond adamant, refusing to free him from the bar-shaped paradise until he accepted to bring him along. Castiel knew John would hound him until the gates of Purgatory were secured. The angel had no idea how the soul had managed to follow him on Earth - this wasn't his department - but he suspected a certain Ash had his way in it.
Not wanting to dwell on emotion, the angel strode forward, not waiting for John. Once inside, it was easy to spot Death since it was the only being sitting upright in the cramped restaurant. Corpses lay around on the floor and slumped on the tables of the place's numerous booths. The only sound they could hear was Death eating a pizza. Unfazed, Castiel walked to the booth and sat down inside. “Abbadon.” he said, greeting Death by its proper name.
“Hello Castiel.” the humanoid figure said, not looking up from its plate. “Don't mind me, please, have a seat.”
John dragged a third chair to the table. Curious, he stared at the timeless figure. John had expected Death to be wearing the cliché black robe. He knew on a rational level that it was only his imagination trying to represent an absolute concept in human terms. Much like Castiel looked more like a slim, dour tax accountant rather than the incarnation of the-Wrath-of-God. He still found the sight of Death looking like a croque-mort, complete with an expensive looking black suit, very prosaic.
In the meantime, Death finished eating and stared at the angel. “I need your help.” Castiel said after some time. Death didn't answer, choosing to lace his fingers together, looking strangely like a businessman judging its adversary. His black eyes were unreadable as he waited for Castiel to continue.
“I need to make amends for my actions.” the angel said, not bothering to lie to a being who may very well be older than God himself.
“And yet, you are burning on the power of the 50 000 souls the King of Hell gave you.” Death observed.
“You can have them back.” Castiel said.
“Why do you need my help for, then?”
“For him.” Castiel said, looking pointedly at John.
“Ah... John Winchester.” Death turned toward the soul. “I had the pleasure of doing business with your son, Dean. A fine boy you have there.”
“Thank you... sir...” John didn't know what else to say.
Death turned its attention back to Castiel. “You need me to bring him back to life.” It wasn't a question.
“Yes.” Castiel answered, nonetheless.
“Why would I do it? This whole resurrection ring you have created is bad enough for my reputation. Not to mention the balance between Life and Death. You yourself died twice and were brought back. And I am not even counting how many times the Winchester boys had cheated me.”
“Because Castiel is not the only one who wished to make amends.” John cut in.
“You had your whole life to do just that, John. You failing to take that chance to protect your sons is not my problem. It is too late for regrets now.” Death said.
“You can use my soul to shut Purgatory down if we fail.” Castiel said. Death raised an eyebrow, curious.
John leaned in and whispered to the angel. “I thought you didn't have one.”
“Castiel means his angelic core. His whole essence, his grace.” Death explained, still looking at Castiel.
“You are willing to sacrifice yourself?”
“Yes.” Castiel said.
“And so am I.” John said, adding his support to the angel.
“Interesting...” Death said before returning to its pizza.
For a while, no sound could be heard save for Death's eating. Neither Castiel nor John moved or spoke. They could feel Death analyzing their offer and there was nothing to do but wait for the final answer. Finally, Death finished eating, placed his utensils on either side of its plate. “They hardly do pizza like this anymore, such a shame. Very well, I will help you resurrect John to help you achieve your goals, in exchange for all the souls you accepted from Crowley. Do we have an agreement” Both human soul and angel nodded.
It looked like the first day of spring. Patches of snow glittered in the early afternoon light. Flowers grew in the middle of the snow, their colors bright and vivid, truly a beautiful contrast. The atmosphere was peaceful in this part of paradise, and for the lonely angel sitting on the bench near the pond, peace was what he needed.
Castiel looked up from his joined hands. A girl of about seven ran in front of him, laughing gaily, her long red scarf adding another sharp contrast against the brightness of the snow. She had died of pneumonia in the early 1800s. This scenery was the last time she remembered being outside before being bed-ridden until her death. Castiel had not wanted to risk going back to his usual paradise. Raphael and his minions already knew about it. Heaven was limitless and held countless such little paradises. Castiel wasn't ready to face his elder archangel brother just yet.
All Raphael wanted was to free Michael and Lucifer from the Cage and to get the Apocalypse moving once again. If he succeeded, all the efforts it had taken from Castiel, Bobby Singer and the Winchester brothers to prevent it in the first place would be wasted. When Crowley, the newly crowned King of Hell, came to him and offered half the souls from Purgatory, Castiel had accepted. These souls would make him powerful enough to fight Raphael. Only now, the angel doubted his course of actions. What if making such a deal had been in fact a tremendous mistake?
When God had brought Castiel back after Lucifer smote him, the angel had been sure it was God's benediction to guide his brothers and sisters toward the path of free will. He had been so resolute then. He had no doubts. He even brought Sam Winchester back from Hell, as a gift for Dean. But while Sam's body returned, his soul had stayed behind. That should have been his warning. Castiel ignored it as he had ignored so many others since, blinded by his pride and immutable sense of purpose.
Until now.
When he came back to the Host, his brothers and sisters were there with open arms. Right then, Castiel wanted to start teaching them about Free Will and the right to make their own decisions. Unfortunately, they had witnessed his struggle against Lucifer, and his ensuing resurrection. They saw him as their new leader, as God's new favorite. Castiel felt ashamed to admit it; he appreciated seeing such respect and the awe shine in their eyes.
Raphael had quickly put a stop to the angel's presumptions. With his cold indifferent voice, the archangel mocked Castiel's pretensions. He laid two choices in front of the younger angel; join Raphael to hasten the Apocalypse again or die again. Castiel refused. He hadn't prevented it before just to face another one again. To say Raphael was displeased would be an understatement. Castiel preferred to say his big brother knocked him into the next week. For a while, the angel wondered why Raphael hadn't killed him. He guessed he wasn't an important enough player, despite his previous rebellious acts against the Host. Maybe Raphael unconsciously felt enough celestial's blood had been shed. Maybe this was the reason why he decided not to see his threat through and let Castiel live as a warning.
After the confrontation with the archangel, Castiel returned to Earth to seek the help of the only person he would trust without hesitation. Sadly, Dean had settled into some kind of civilian life. He lived with a woman and her son and had stopped hunting. Sam had never contacted his brother since his return and was hunting with the grandfather he never met when he was alive. Even thought Castiel needed help, he just could not bring Dean back to the hunting life. Especially if Sam had preferred leaving his brother alone.
That's when Crowley approached him and shared his plan of invading Purgatory to gain access to the souls trapped inside. If Castiel agreed to help him, he would get half of these souls. With them, he would have enough power to control Heaven while Crowley would use his to cement his dominion of Hell. Since monsters' souls did not go to Heaven or Hell, the plan was to find all the alphas - the firstborn of every monster races - and find the way into Purgatory. If that did not work, maybe Castiel and Crowley could get their hands on Eve, the mother of all, and get some answers from her. As proof of good will, Crowley lend the angel 50 000 souls from Hell. With each soul, Castiel grew stronger and soon, he was able to establish a standstill against Raphael.
Meanwhile, Dean had been attacked by the spawns of a Djinn he killed years ago. They had claimed revenge and Sam got there in time to save his life. When Dean realized his younger brother was alive, he did not understand why Sam had not contacted him. Sam told him he hadn't wanted his brother go back to the hunter life since he had settled and looked happy.
Looking back, Castiel could see when he first started doubting his decision. Sam's soul had been left in the Cage yet Samuel Campbell, whom Crowley had resurrected to do his dirty work, was whole. How could a demon do what an angel could not? Despite this, Castiel kept his part of the deal. He worked in the Light, while the demon kept to the shadows. When the brothers got too near the truth, Crowley staged his death with Castiel's help. For a while, things were as normal as Castiel's life could be. But Eve's death changed everything. She told the Winchester that Crowley was still alive and soon, too soon, they were able to put the pieces of the puzzle back together. They found out about Castiel's deal and lost the trust they had invested in him. When Crowley kidnapped Dean's woman and her boy, Castiel realized he had lost all control and was now, for all intents and purposes, working under the orders of a demon.
The angel dropped his head into his hands. If only he had had some signs that proved him right. God remained silent to all his prayers and pleas, thought Castiel had expected it, even if he hoped otherwise. He sighed; he could not keep acting like this. Deep down, he knew accepting Crowley's offer was wrong. Suddenly, acting on what the humans referred as a 'gut feeling', Castiel took his final decision. If God would not answer his prayers, he would take action on his own. Castiel only hoped he still had time to correct the mistake he made.
A sudden gust of wind broke his reverie. Alarmed, Castiel looked around. The little girl kept playing in the snow, unaware of the changes in her little paradise. It could only mean one thing: Raphael had found him. Castiel flew away; knowing now wasn't the time to face the archangel yet.
He landed on a path leading away from the garden. A hand shot out from the bushes and roughly grabbed him by the elbow. Before he could react, Castiel was pushed through an open door that had appeared from nowhere, and inside a dark room. Hearing the door closed behind him, Castiel spun around to face his assailant. “Easy there, Feathers. We have to talk about my boys.” The angel watched as John Winchester walked out of the shadows and stared right back at him.
***
Castiel took a seat at one of the empty tables. John sat down in front of him. For a while, neither spoke. Castiel found this to be... fascinating. Dean had often told him his unwavering stare was considered rude to most humans. Yet, the soul in front of him looked at him boldly and without fear.
Wanting a moment to collect his thoughts, Castiel looked around the paradise John Winchester's soul had created for himself. It was a typical roadside bar, complete with a sitting area in the corner where they sat and arcade machines in the other. In the middle, right in front of the door, was the bar. Another soul sat on one of the bar stools, watching at a computer screen in deep concentration. Castiel frowned slightly. He could read the graphs shown on the screen from where he sat. Somehow, they looked familiar. He blinked, that soul had mastered the angelic language!
The male soul looked up from the computer screen, turned around and, spotting the angel, pointed back at the screen, saying “Dude! You are SO the major topic on the angel radio!” Castiel scowled. Those were the words Dean used to refer to about the talk amongst the angels. Did this man know the Winchester? What was he doing in John's paradise for he was not a memory for the older hunter, it really was another soul. Since angels usually prevented souls to mingle - less chance of rebellion Castiel would say - it was a miracle they haven't been found out yet.
His line of thoughts was interrupted when he noticed the Enochian symbols drawn on the walls and doors for the first time. Neither angel nor archangel could get inside this room. It also meant Castiel was trapped inside his bodily vessel, with no access to his powers. He glared at John, who hadn't moved a muscle. “Never underestimate Ash.” the hunter said, making a vague gesture toward the counter.
A sudden stinging pain cut the angel's retort short. Castiel rubbed the back of his head and watched as Ellen walked from behind him to stand by John. Castiel frowned. Either his senses were dulled by the wards around him or this soul had mastered the uncannily ability to move around undetected. “That's for consorting with demons!” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.
“You have some explaining to do.” John said, leaning over the table.
Castiel was confused. Surely these two did not expect him to explain himself. Yet, it appeared to be the case. “You better start, angel. Or we're not letting you go.” Ellen said. Castiel knew she was right. He had been discreetly trying to use his powers since he'd arrived with no avail. He was trapped. “Why don't you start at the beginning?” John said. Castiel looked at him, then at Ellen who sat down beside him and told his story. He told them everything: his rebellion against Raphael, his reasons for dealing with Crowley, Sam's release from Hell and the lost of his soul, his own doubts about the outcomes of his actions.
Once the story was told, Castiel simply stopped talking. He was a little shocked by how easy it had been. Surprisingly, he felt relieved. Maybe it had been the right thing to do, after all. Looking up, Castiel noticed the guy named Ash had joined their table too. “Dude, that's one major screw up job you did.” Ash said, taking a swing from his beer bottle.
“Why did you stop trusting them, Castiel?” John asked.
“I never stop trusting them. Dean had settled and had found peace at last. I thought bringing Sam back would make him believe that balance existed and that good deeds were compensated. I could not ask him to fight beside me after all they've been through.”
A memory floated in Castiel's mind. He remembered the day Crowley came to him. Castiel stood, invisible, in Dean's backyard, watching his friend busying himself with domestic chores. He remembered being unable to reveal himself and tell the man he had come to think as a brother-in-arms that the Apocalypse hadn't been stopped but merely postponed. Castiel needed to tell him his help was needed again to fight off Raphael. Looking back now, it was easy to see how he had fallen for Crowley's offer. Castiel now understood the irony of the saying 'Hell is paved with good intentions'.
“Cheer up, angel.” Ellen said, shoving him gently.
“I cannot. I have failed them. I have failed the trust they had put in me.”
“Trust an angel to state the obvious.” Ash said. He stood up and walked back to his computer screen while the rest stayed at the table, in silence.
“OK, there's no need to beat around the bushes.”Ellen said in a brusque manner. “You go back, clean up your mess and stop all this opening of the Purgatory nonsense. I would have thought angels a little more clever and avoid repeating mistakes that have made too many times already.”
Castiel blinked, surprised by strangely sounded like an order. A human soul giving an angel an order. As much as he knew, only Dean dared order him around. Yet, the woman was right and the angel looked at her with a new found respect. Ellen simply looked back, as if somehow she could read his inner thoughts. “I will go back.” he said, his voice echoing in the empty room. And for the first time, Castiel felt like himself again.
***
Ellen smiled and patted Castiel on the shoulder. “That's the spirit.” she said. John looked at her and back at the angel in front of him. “Not alone you're not.” he said. The hunter had taken his decision. This was his one chance to settle the scores with his immortal conscience. As Castiel said, his boys had already done enough. It was time to bring in a new player. Castiel looked at him in disbelief. The angel seemed to doubt his seriousness. He died five years ago and his body was burned to ashes. He knew Castiel would argue there would be no way to resurrect him, IF he agreed to resurrected him. Nevertheless, John looked at him with the exact same expression Dean had when his choice had been made. Nothing could change the young man's mind, just like nothing would change John's mind. Stubbornness visibly ran in this family. “It won't be an easy feat, bringing you back.” Castiel said.
“Are you telling me you're too weak to do what Crowley did to Campbell?” John asked shrewdly.
Castiel visibly bristled at the question, his pride piqued. “I said it would be difficult, not impossible.” he said in a curt voice, as he often did when annoyed by humans. “Crowley had access to the total power of Hell to back him whereas I am alone.” John wondered how much it wounded him to admit such a weakness. He was one of the Lord's agents while John was simply human soul. He should be obeying Castiel's orders rather than questioning them. Yet, as Castiel had learned from his dealing with the Winchester's family, blind faith and obedience weren't part of their vocabulary.
Then Castiel's face lit up. “I know one who can help.” the angel said.
***
“Now that's a marvelous idea.” John said as they landed in front of Regina's, one of Boston's most notorious pizzeria.
“Death seems to have developed a taste for human's junk food, especially the type they spread over large amounts of tasteless dough” Castiel said, also watching the building. Both were invisible to those walking around. Castiel was a little upset that John had tagged along but the hunter had been beyond adamant, refusing to free him from the bar-shaped paradise until he accepted to bring him along. Castiel knew John would hound him until the gates of Purgatory were secured. The angel had no idea how the soul had managed to follow him on Earth - this wasn't his department - but he suspected a certain Ash had his way in it.
Not wanting to dwell on emotion, the angel strode forward, not waiting for John. Once inside, it was easy to spot Death since it was the only being sitting upright in the cramped restaurant. Corpses lay around on the floor and slumped on the tables of the place's numerous booths. The only sound they could hear was Death eating a pizza. Unfazed, Castiel walked to the booth and sat down inside. “Abbadon.” he said, greeting Death by its proper name.
“Hello Castiel.” the humanoid figure said, not looking up from its plate. “Don't mind me, please, have a seat.”
John dragged a third chair to the table. Curious, he stared at the timeless figure. John had expected Death to be wearing the cliché black robe. He knew on a rational level that it was only his imagination trying to represent an absolute concept in human terms. Much like Castiel looked more like a slim, dour tax accountant rather than the incarnation of the-Wrath-of-God. He still found the sight of Death looking like a croque-mort, complete with an expensive looking black suit, very prosaic.
In the meantime, Death finished eating and stared at the angel. “I need your help.” Castiel said after some time. Death didn't answer, choosing to lace his fingers together, looking strangely like a businessman judging its adversary. His black eyes were unreadable as he waited for Castiel to continue.
“I need to make amends for my actions.” the angel said, not bothering to lie to a being who may very well be older than God himself.
“And yet, you are burning on the power of the 50 000 souls the King of Hell gave you.” Death observed.
“You can have them back.” Castiel said.
“Why do you need my help for, then?”
“For him.” Castiel said, looking pointedly at John.
“Ah... John Winchester.” Death turned toward the soul. “I had the pleasure of doing business with your son, Dean. A fine boy you have there.”
“Thank you... sir...” John didn't know what else to say.
Death turned its attention back to Castiel. “You need me to bring him back to life.” It wasn't a question.
“Yes.” Castiel answered, nonetheless.
“Why would I do it? This whole resurrection ring you have created is bad enough for my reputation. Not to mention the balance between Life and Death. You yourself died twice and were brought back. And I am not even counting how many times the Winchester boys had cheated me.”
“Because Castiel is not the only one who wished to make amends.” John cut in.
“You had your whole life to do just that, John. You failing to take that chance to protect your sons is not my problem. It is too late for regrets now.” Death said.
“You can use my soul to shut Purgatory down if we fail.” Castiel said. Death raised an eyebrow, curious.
John leaned in and whispered to the angel. “I thought you didn't have one.”
“Castiel means his angelic core. His whole essence, his grace.” Death explained, still looking at Castiel.
“You are willing to sacrifice yourself?”
“Yes.” Castiel said.
“And so am I.” John said, adding his support to the angel.
“Interesting...” Death said before returning to its pizza.
For a while, no sound could be heard save for Death's eating. Neither Castiel nor John moved or spoke. They could feel Death analyzing their offer and there was nothing to do but wait for the final answer. Finally, Death finished eating, placed his utensils on either side of its plate. “They hardly do pizza like this anymore, such a shame. Very well, I will help you resurrect John to help you achieve your goals, in exchange for all the souls you accepted from Crowley. Do we have an agreement” Both human soul and angel nodded.