FIC: Supernatural: Recrudesence 14 - 17
You took me in and you drove me out
Yeah, you had me hypnotized.
Lost and found and turned around
By the fire in your eyes…
I could be right, I could be wrong
It hurts so bad, it's been so long…
Selfish love yeah we're both alone
The rise before the fall, yeah
~Ozzy Ozbourne - Mama, I’m Coming Home
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*
“Are you going to tell Sam any of this?”
“I already know.”
*
Dean leapt up. In the decaying doorway was Sam, backlit by the weak streetlights. He was shadow and silhouette, and it spooked Dean to see him so…dark and featureless. Like some necessary part of Sam was gone, like he was a ghost waiting to be banished.
Then he stepped forward, out of the glare, and Dean could see him again, and felt weak at the solid reality - no matter how messed up it was.
“Sam, man, what are you doing here? How did you get here?” And then said in a harsher tone: “What the hell do you mean you know?”
He turned to glare at Castiel, but the angel just shrugged. “I did not tell him.”
“It wasn’t hard to figure out,” Sam said, and his voice had that slow drag that Dean was beginning to recognize came with his emotionless periods. “I didn’t escape on my own, and Ruby couldn’t get near the room. Who else could it have been? And once you figure out that, the rest isn’t too hard to guess.”
Castiel acknowledged the truth of that with a nod. “How long did you know?”
“Awhile.” Sam said. “It didn’t matter. It didn’t change anything. I did what I did. It was my place to fix it.” He had moved up to where Dean was standing, and Dean could make out a wet looking streak on his sweater, just over his incision.
“Damn it, Sam,” Dean muttered, sighing. “What did you do this time?”
“Nothing,” Sam responded, looking confused.
“Uh-huh. So why are you bleeding?” Dean took his shoulder, turning him toward what little light there was.
Sam looked down, seeming surprised. Then shrugged, unconcerned. “It does that.” He pulled loose and Dean let him go.
“Right,” Dean ran a hand over the back of his neck. “Where’s Bobby?”
“At the motel. He’s sleeping.”
“So you waited until Bobby fell asleep and took off and what? - stole a car and came looking for me?”
“Didn’t have to look. Knew where you were. You said it in the car. You also said ten minutes.”
“I also said stay - figures which one you heard.”
Sam just looked at him.
“Sam,” Castiel called softly, drawing his attention, “it is good to see you again.”
Sam blinked at the angel. “You brought me back.”
“I did.” Castiel shifted a bit in his seat. “Is that…alright?”
Dean watched as Sam considered that question with too much thought for it to be theoretical. It made him…nervous. “Of course it is,” Dean snapped, before Sam could answer. “Don’t be stupid.”
Castiel and Sam shared a look that made Dean hackles come up, but Sam only shrugged, turning to look at the altar. “It’s quiet here,” he said, and Dean’s stomach filled with ice when he realized that he didn’t know if Sam was talking about the church, or this side of the cage.
“It is,” Castiel agreed.
Dean shifted uneasily. Castiel had been in the cage. He’d had a taste of what Sam had suffered…something that Dean would never know, could never share.
And that was beside the point at the moment. “Guys, let’s deal with the problems we have now,” he said, stepping between them, breaking the flow before Castiel accidentally set Sam off again. “Cas? You told me all this because Raphael is coming? Does he know where we are?”
The angel shrugged. “I have no idea. But if he doesn’t know now, he will soon.”
“But the wards will hold him off for awhile?”
“Do not rely on them, Dean,” Castiel warned. “They block only his scrying. Every person who sees you can report on your location. Some of his more devout followers will be actively looking. You can’t hide from him for long. You have a couple of days at best.”
“Actually you have even less time than that.”
The voice was feminine and playful, and Dean automatically took Sam’s arm as she stepped out from the shadowed alcove behind the altar.
“Meg.” Dean actually felt the adrenalin hit his system, a bust of warmth and wakefulness. He tugged at Sam, trying to put him behind him, but Sam stayed where he was, watching the demon with eyes that were far too calm.
“Nice to be recognized,” Meg chirped, her host’s eyes narrowing dangerously.
“Aw, jeeze, I couldn’t not recognize you, Meg,” Dean said lightly. “You’re the only girl I know who reeks both like a rotten corpse and a two dollar hooker. Still turning tricks on the side, babe?”
She chuckled, the noise completely devoid of humor. “I missed you guys. It’s been too long. Especially for you, Sam. Boy, have I missed you.” She looked him up and down, provocatively, waiting for a flinch… but in that she was disappointed. Sam didn’t so much as twitch - he watched her back, coldly, calmly, with an undercurrent of, well, violence, that was down right creepy.
Meg seemed to feel it too. Eventually she turned her head, breaking eye contact and Dean almost smirked as she took a step, putting the solid marble altar between her and Sam. “Well, this little share and care session was just fascinating. So much angst. I hardly know what to do with the tears. Or why I should care. So, how the heck are you boys?” She asked with false good-humor as she drew a hand across the old marble, drawing lines in the dust. Her hands dipped lower, behind the stone, as she leaned forward, pretending to be fascinated with their answer.
“Us? We’re fine. Slight pest problem at the moment, but nothing that we can’t swat down.” Dean’s free hand shifted to pull his gun.
“You always did know how to charm a girl, Deano. But we both know that won’t work on me.”
“I don’t need a gun,” Castiel said, stepping into Dean’s line of fire. “How did you find us, demon?” he demanded.
Her mouth twisted in a smile as she blinked lazily at the angel, still leaning against the altar. “It wasn’t hard, whitemeat. You blocked angels. I’m a horse of a whole ‘nother color. Seek and ye shall find,” she smirked.
Castiel’s shoulders straitened; a glow began not so much in his eyes as behind them, his angelic nature surging to the front. “My mistake,” he said, “and yours. Only, I will survive to correct mine.”
Meg only laughed. “Homie, please. Do you think I’d be stupid enough to walk into this place without backup?”
“I see no backup,” Castiel scoffed, starting up the steps toward her.
“Yeah, well, as one of your kind recently reminded me, I’m no big time badass, just a dead human with a few magic tricks. But those tricks?” She pulled what looked like a yellowed handkerchief from somewhere behind the altar, dropped it, and, as Castiel flinched, she ground it under her heel. “They’re good ones. Abracadabra.”
There was no sensation when the antimension dissolved into powder, no flash or bang. But somehow the soft, contemplative air that had filled the old church melted away like ice in a fire…and all Hell swept in - on angelic wings.
*
Part 13 Part 15