REVIVE ▸ d. winchester [2] ✔

Chapter 22

Dean's POV

Time stopped for a moment.

It was right after our forty-eight hours were up and hardly a minute into the forty-ninth. After sitting in silence, shivering in the cold and crouching in the snow for two hours, the time had finally come. Sam and Bobby both double and triple checked their watches, as did I, just as the minute hand reached the twelve.

Our time was up.

Our eyes all locked on the landscape in front of us, none of us daring to tear our eyes away even for a second. We couldn't risk missing a single detail of what was to come. But we didn't have to wait long; Gabriel's punctuality was stellar, to Bobby's surprise. It only took thirty seconds, although each second seemed to last for an eternity.

A figure apparates in the dead center of the tree-surrounded clearing, no more than 15 yards away from where I crouch. His back is to us, but it takes less than a second for my breath to hitch in the back of my throat. Standing in dark clothes- ones that were probably far from suitable for the cold and merciless snow that whisped through the air- is Azrael.

Right on time.

His head turns to the side as he takes in his surroundings. Even from this distance, I can see the darkness in his eyes and the sinister look upon his face. The angel is determined, set out on a mission to find one of the most powerful objects on the planet. But little did he know that he wouldn't find it here.

Azrael takes a few steps in a general direction, his shoes leaving marks in the perfectly packed snow. His eyes continue to peer around, snowflakes falling and hitting his face harshly but doing little to affect him. I glance over to Sam and find him holding his rifle with a deathly-tight grip. To my other side, I find Bobby in the same position. But Bobby catches my eye, and between us, we share a look of hesitance. Realizing that Azrael hasn't yet discovered that the Hand of God isn't here, I shake my head to Bobby.

Wait one more minute.

Bobby nods back, and I relay the decision to Sam. The three of us return to staring at the angel in front of us without making a noise.

After many long, dragged out moments, Azrael still hasn't moved much further from where he first appeared. But something has changed in his demeanor, something that set off alarms in each of us as we watched him. And we knew exactly what that meant: time to move.

"Looking for something?" My voice rings out into the dead silence. Not speaking for over two hours causes my voice to come across as hoarse, but nonetheless, my words roll of my tongue with dignity. I had the upper hand. We all did, for once.

Azrael quickly turns in the snow to where I stand behind some brush. Despite his usual put-together appearance and his cocky attitude, nothing can hide the look of surprise that washes over his face as he takes me in. It only takes a second longer for his surprise to turn into realization, then burning anger. His dark, hateful eyes glue themselves to my figure. Suddenly, the hidden angel blade inside my jacket feels abnormally heavy.

"Dean Winchester." Azrael frowns, clearly unsatisfied with my presence.

"Fancy meeting you here," I say, stepping forward and into the clearing. I ignore my uncomfortably stiff legs. "Nice day for a walk. A bit chilly, though."

"You son of a bitch," he snarls, his eyebrows furrowing deeper and deeper.

"I don't think I'm following you," I trail off, taking my time to push every button of Azrael's that I can given this prime opportunity. Something inside of me tells me to not joke around, to not mess this up, but I can't help but drag this out. Both he and I know what is going on, right here and right now, so why shouldn't I enjoy it while I could?