Part 1, Chapter 3
Chapter 3
Sioux Falls, South Dakota
"Judas Iscariot. Judas Iscariot. Judas Iscariot."
Nothing happened.
"Maybe we got the wrong coin?" Sam tried, after a minute.
"No, it's real," Bobby said. "Gail wouldn't give me a fake, she owes me too much."
"Unless she didn't know."
"Or maybe that professor screwed us," Dean pointed out. "He wasn't exactly falling all over himself to help."
"Yeah, maybe." Sam chewed his lower lip for a minute. "Hey, what if neither of them screwed us, and we're just using the wrong language?"
"What do you mean?"
"His name--like, his true name--it would be in his native language, wouldn't it?"
"Probably," Bobby said. "And we'd that need to summon him. Balls. Should have thought of that sooner."
"So...what?" Dean asked "Latin, Hebrew?"
"Probably Aramaic," Sam said. "Judas is Hellenized, his name should be Yehudah, and there'd be a patronymic. Do we know what his father's name was?"
Bobby wheeled over to his desk, and flipped through a Bible. "Simon."
"Okay." Sam turned back to the circle, and took a breath. "Yehudah bar Simon. Yehudah bar Simon. Yehudah bar Simon."
This time, it worked. The coin started to glow, and a soft, low-pitched hum came from the circle itself. The blood droplets rose into the air, swirling around in an infinity symbol, faster and faster, until the humming died away and the blood and the light resolved into a familiarly slight Middle Eastern man.
Professor Simon Goldstein.
He was wearing another turtleneck, this one dark green--chances were he always wore them, if there was a scar on his neck he wanted to hide--but no jacket, and his hair was loose to his shoulders. He was tense, his eyes flicking from Sam to Dean to Bobby, then around the room, like a caged animal looking for any way out.
For a long moment, no one said anything.
Dean finally broke the silence. "...seriously?"
Goldstein--Judas--turned to focus on him, clearly doing his best to slam on an unreadable mask. Despite his efforts, he couldn't quite camouflage his wariness. With carefully feigned casualness, he shrugged. "I never thought you'd find a coin. Most people assume denarii instead of shekels. And I was under the impression that all of them were held by...someone I trust."
"Why even give us the ritual, if you didn't want us to summon you?" Sam asked.
"I can't lie," Judas said, still keeping most of his focus on Dean.
"You can't lie?" Dean said, surprised. "You can't lie?"
"The sky is g--" He cut off. His mouth worked for a moment, with no sound. He took a deep breath, and then said, "See? I can't say anything I know to be untrue, and you cornered me. I can only evade for so long, especially when people know I have the answers they want. And I couldn't keep stalling without exposing myself another way. Thank you for that, by the way," he added, his eyes flicking over to Sam for a moment. "It's so nice to be reminded that I can't protect myself when I need to."
"Look, I'm sorry about that, really I am. But we need your help," Sam cut in, before Dean could antagonize him further.
"So I gathered," Judas replied, dryly. "But you won't get it."
"Just hear us out," Bobby tried. "You don't even know who we're after."
"I don't need to," he said. "My answer is still no."
"We're going after Lucifer," Sam pressed.
Judas stared at him for a long moment. "Good luck with that."
"So, you won't help us?"
"There's not really much point."
"There's no limit to what you do, is there?" Dean asked.
"Not that I've come across," Judas admitted. "But that doesn't mean I'm a good solution to your problem."
"We're pretty much down to bad ones, anyway," Bobby said. "And you're one of the best options out there."
"I'm sorry to hear that," Judas said, and he sounded sincere. "But I don't think you quite understand how it works. If I did what you ask, Lucifer would be banished--but only banished--and his vessel would die in horrible pain." He shook his head. "I'm sorry, but the first is too little, and the second is too much. I will not do this thing."
"Even if his vessel dies--and I don't like that any more than you do, believe me--you can help us stop the Apocalypse," Dean said. "That's gotta be worth it."
"No," Judas said, "I can't. Even without my other objections, even if I managed to get close enough to Lucifer to kiss him, it wouldn't stop anything. You're forgetting that, no matter who is in the wrong and who starts it, there are always two sides to a war. And, from what I hear, Heaven is just as committed to this as Hell is."
Sam blinked. "How do you know...?" They hadn't even known that until way too late to do anything about it, and Judas was seemingly trying to keep himself as isolated as possible. As much as he might have wanted to learn, it would be sort of hard to pick up on Heaven's secret plans while in hiding, wouldn't it?
"I have my sources," the Weapon said shortly. Then, glaring at Sam as if he could read his mind, he added, "And do not try to corner me again, I won't tell you more."
"Whatever, we don't care about that," Dean said.
At least not now, Sam guessed he wanted to add.
Instead, Dean continued with, "Screw all that stuff about only half-working, and Michael. We'll figure out a way to deal with him, if we have to. First, we gotta stop the Devil. Plus, look at it this way. If you do this, maybe you can make up for all the crap you pulled--"
"Don't," Judas interrupted, his calm facade locking down onto something far more dangerous, "bring that up. It won't help your case."
Before any of them could respond, Dean's phone rang. He shot a look at Judas. "We're not finished here." He stepped out to take the call.
Judas deflated a little and rubbed at his temples. Clearly he'd decided that Dean was, of the three of them, the most threatening.
Well, whether or not that was true, Sam could use that. Might as well throw in a little 'good cop', he thought. He glanced over at Bobby, who nodded and backed off a little to give Sam room to work.
"Why not?" Sam asked, pitching his voice soft and as friendly--or at least non-hostile--as he could without being too obvious and giving the game away.
"Why not what?" Judas responded, without looking up. He was being deliberately obtuse. Not that Sam could blame him.
"You know what I mean," he pressed, keeping his voice low and calm.
"Because redemption doesn't work like that."
"You never know until you try," Sam persisted.
He sighed, and met Sam's eyes. "Look. I know what I am. I am a traitor and a murderer, and stains like that don't ever come out. I accepted that a long time ago. There is no redemption for me. Not now, not ever. And even if there was, I wouldn't find it in murdering someone else. Even Lucifer. Not in my own mind, and certainly not in the eyes of men. I can't help you."
"Can't, or won't?" Sam asked.
He looked away. "Does it really matter?"
Sam opened his mouth to respond, but stopped, not sure exactly what he should say. Judas was wrong about that--he had to be--but he'd had two thousand years to come to that point of view, and...well, with everything that Sam had done, how the hell was he supposed to persuade him otherwise in just a few minutes?
He glanced over at Bobby, who shrugged, clearly feeling like that particular avenue had stalled out.
"That was Cas," Dean said, rejoining them before Sam could figure out what to say next. "He found Crowley."
"So, clearly you have an alternative," Judas said, straightening and closing off again. "Does this mean I can go?"
"Yeah, not yet," Dean said.
"I won't lash out, if that's what you're worried about," he said. "I promise. Just let me go back to my life unharmed. We can all pretend this never happened."
Sam shook his head. "We can't let you go until this is over."
"The boys are right," Bobby said. "Sorry, but if we found you, that means someone else might, too. We can’t take that chance."
Judas stared at him for a minute, then sighed. "I'll just wait here, then."
"...that was fast," Bobby said.
He shrugged. "I'm stuck here until one of you breaks the circle, so I don't really have much choice."
"So, all that stuff you said earlier, about not wanting to piss off another heavyweight, that was...what, a bluff?" Dean asked.
"I thought you said you couldn't lie." Sam added.
Judas smiled a little, all teeth. "I can't."
"...well, that's not creepy at all," Dean muttered.
There was something there, in the way Judas was phrasing things, that Sam thought might be important. And, if Judas really couldn't lie, it would probably be painfully obvious once he finally figured it out. He just couldn't quite put his finger on it.
"Could I at least have something to read while I'm stuck here, please?" Judas asked, before Sam could follow up and try to work a few more hints out of him.
Bobby grabbed a couple of old magazines off a table, and dropped them into the circle.
"Thank you," he said, and picked one up, clearly planning to ignore them from now on.
"Think we need to leave someone to watch him?" Sam asked, quiet enough that he hoped the Weapon wouldn't overhear. Despite the fact that he'd been painfully sincere before, when he and Sam had been more or less one-on-one, there were too many unanswered questions here.
Bobby shook his head. "He's probably right, about not being able to break the circle from the inside, and we need all hands on deck to plan what we're gonna do next. Come on, let's go over what Cas said."
Sam nodded, but shot one more uneasy glance at their captive before shutting the door and leaving him alone.
Previous: Part 1, Chapter 2 Next: Part 1, Chapter 4
Sioux Falls, South Dakota
"Judas Iscariot. Judas Iscariot. Judas Iscariot."
Nothing happened.
"Maybe we got the wrong coin?" Sam tried, after a minute.
"No, it's real," Bobby said. "Gail wouldn't give me a fake, she owes me too much."
"Unless she didn't know."
"Or maybe that professor screwed us," Dean pointed out. "He wasn't exactly falling all over himself to help."
"Yeah, maybe." Sam chewed his lower lip for a minute. "Hey, what if neither of them screwed us, and we're just using the wrong language?"
"What do you mean?"
"His name--like, his true name--it would be in his native language, wouldn't it?"
"Probably," Bobby said. "And we'd that need to summon him. Balls. Should have thought of that sooner."
"So...what?" Dean asked "Latin, Hebrew?"
"Probably Aramaic," Sam said. "Judas is Hellenized, his name should be Yehudah, and there'd be a patronymic. Do we know what his father's name was?"
Bobby wheeled over to his desk, and flipped through a Bible. "Simon."
"Okay." Sam turned back to the circle, and took a breath. "Yehudah bar Simon. Yehudah bar Simon. Yehudah bar Simon."
This time, it worked. The coin started to glow, and a soft, low-pitched hum came from the circle itself. The blood droplets rose into the air, swirling around in an infinity symbol, faster and faster, until the humming died away and the blood and the light resolved into a familiarly slight Middle Eastern man.
Professor Simon Goldstein.
He was wearing another turtleneck, this one dark green--chances were he always wore them, if there was a scar on his neck he wanted to hide--but no jacket, and his hair was loose to his shoulders. He was tense, his eyes flicking from Sam to Dean to Bobby, then around the room, like a caged animal looking for any way out.
For a long moment, no one said anything.
Dean finally broke the silence. "...seriously?"
Goldstein--Judas--turned to focus on him, clearly doing his best to slam on an unreadable mask. Despite his efforts, he couldn't quite camouflage his wariness. With carefully feigned casualness, he shrugged. "I never thought you'd find a coin. Most people assume denarii instead of shekels. And I was under the impression that all of them were held by...someone I trust."
"Why even give us the ritual, if you didn't want us to summon you?" Sam asked.
"I can't lie," Judas said, still keeping most of his focus on Dean.
"You can't lie?" Dean said, surprised. "You can't lie?"
"The sky is g--" He cut off. His mouth worked for a moment, with no sound. He took a deep breath, and then said, "See? I can't say anything I know to be untrue, and you cornered me. I can only evade for so long, especially when people know I have the answers they want. And I couldn't keep stalling without exposing myself another way. Thank you for that, by the way," he added, his eyes flicking over to Sam for a moment. "It's so nice to be reminded that I can't protect myself when I need to."
"Look, I'm sorry about that, really I am. But we need your help," Sam cut in, before Dean could antagonize him further.
"So I gathered," Judas replied, dryly. "But you won't get it."
"Just hear us out," Bobby tried. "You don't even know who we're after."
"I don't need to," he said. "My answer is still no."
"We're going after Lucifer," Sam pressed.
Judas stared at him for a long moment. "Good luck with that."
"So, you won't help us?"
"There's not really much point."
"There's no limit to what you do, is there?" Dean asked.
"Not that I've come across," Judas admitted. "But that doesn't mean I'm a good solution to your problem."
"We're pretty much down to bad ones, anyway," Bobby said. "And you're one of the best options out there."
"I'm sorry to hear that," Judas said, and he sounded sincere. "But I don't think you quite understand how it works. If I did what you ask, Lucifer would be banished--but only banished--and his vessel would die in horrible pain." He shook his head. "I'm sorry, but the first is too little, and the second is too much. I will not do this thing."
"Even if his vessel dies--and I don't like that any more than you do, believe me--you can help us stop the Apocalypse," Dean said. "That's gotta be worth it."
"No," Judas said, "I can't. Even without my other objections, even if I managed to get close enough to Lucifer to kiss him, it wouldn't stop anything. You're forgetting that, no matter who is in the wrong and who starts it, there are always two sides to a war. And, from what I hear, Heaven is just as committed to this as Hell is."
Sam blinked. "How do you know...?" They hadn't even known that until way too late to do anything about it, and Judas was seemingly trying to keep himself as isolated as possible. As much as he might have wanted to learn, it would be sort of hard to pick up on Heaven's secret plans while in hiding, wouldn't it?
"I have my sources," the Weapon said shortly. Then, glaring at Sam as if he could read his mind, he added, "And do not try to corner me again, I won't tell you more."
"Whatever, we don't care about that," Dean said.
At least not now, Sam guessed he wanted to add.
Instead, Dean continued with, "Screw all that stuff about only half-working, and Michael. We'll figure out a way to deal with him, if we have to. First, we gotta stop the Devil. Plus, look at it this way. If you do this, maybe you can make up for all the crap you pulled--"
"Don't," Judas interrupted, his calm facade locking down onto something far more dangerous, "bring that up. It won't help your case."
Before any of them could respond, Dean's phone rang. He shot a look at Judas. "We're not finished here." He stepped out to take the call.
Judas deflated a little and rubbed at his temples. Clearly he'd decided that Dean was, of the three of them, the most threatening.
Well, whether or not that was true, Sam could use that. Might as well throw in a little 'good cop', he thought. He glanced over at Bobby, who nodded and backed off a little to give Sam room to work.
"Why not?" Sam asked, pitching his voice soft and as friendly--or at least non-hostile--as he could without being too obvious and giving the game away.
"Why not what?" Judas responded, without looking up. He was being deliberately obtuse. Not that Sam could blame him.
"You know what I mean," he pressed, keeping his voice low and calm.
"Because redemption doesn't work like that."
"You never know until you try," Sam persisted.
He sighed, and met Sam's eyes. "Look. I know what I am. I am a traitor and a murderer, and stains like that don't ever come out. I accepted that a long time ago. There is no redemption for me. Not now, not ever. And even if there was, I wouldn't find it in murdering someone else. Even Lucifer. Not in my own mind, and certainly not in the eyes of men. I can't help you."
"Can't, or won't?" Sam asked.
He looked away. "Does it really matter?"
Sam opened his mouth to respond, but stopped, not sure exactly what he should say. Judas was wrong about that--he had to be--but he'd had two thousand years to come to that point of view, and...well, with everything that Sam had done, how the hell was he supposed to persuade him otherwise in just a few minutes?
He glanced over at Bobby, who shrugged, clearly feeling like that particular avenue had stalled out.
"That was Cas," Dean said, rejoining them before Sam could figure out what to say next. "He found Crowley."
"So, clearly you have an alternative," Judas said, straightening and closing off again. "Does this mean I can go?"
"Yeah, not yet," Dean said.
"I won't lash out, if that's what you're worried about," he said. "I promise. Just let me go back to my life unharmed. We can all pretend this never happened."
Sam shook his head. "We can't let you go until this is over."
"The boys are right," Bobby said. "Sorry, but if we found you, that means someone else might, too. We can’t take that chance."
Judas stared at him for a minute, then sighed. "I'll just wait here, then."
"...that was fast," Bobby said.
He shrugged. "I'm stuck here until one of you breaks the circle, so I don't really have much choice."
"So, all that stuff you said earlier, about not wanting to piss off another heavyweight, that was...what, a bluff?" Dean asked.
"I thought you said you couldn't lie." Sam added.
Judas smiled a little, all teeth. "I can't."
"...well, that's not creepy at all," Dean muttered.
There was something there, in the way Judas was phrasing things, that Sam thought might be important. And, if Judas really couldn't lie, it would probably be painfully obvious once he finally figured it out. He just couldn't quite put his finger on it.
"Could I at least have something to read while I'm stuck here, please?" Judas asked, before Sam could follow up and try to work a few more hints out of him.
Bobby grabbed a couple of old magazines off a table, and dropped them into the circle.
"Thank you," he said, and picked one up, clearly planning to ignore them from now on.
"Think we need to leave someone to watch him?" Sam asked, quiet enough that he hoped the Weapon wouldn't overhear. Despite the fact that he'd been painfully sincere before, when he and Sam had been more or less one-on-one, there were too many unanswered questions here.
Bobby shook his head. "He's probably right, about not being able to break the circle from the inside, and we need all hands on deck to plan what we're gonna do next. Come on, let's go over what Cas said."
Sam nodded, but shot one more uneasy glance at their captive before shutting the door and leaving him alone.
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