She Talks to Angels | {BOOK 2}

31|Alastair's Student

"Ah, home crappy home," Dean said as we entered the motel room we'd rented.

Sam flipped on the light to reveal Castiel and Uriel waiting for us.

"Dawson and Winchesters," Uriel greeted.

"Oh, come on," Dean groaned.

"You are needed," Uriel continued.

"Needed? We just got back from needed," I snapped.

"Now, you mind your tone with me," the angel warned.

"No, you mind your damn tone with us," Dean challenged.

"We just got back from Pamela's funeral," Sam added.

"Pamela," Dean continued. "You know, psychic Pamela? You remember her."

"Cass, you remember her," I addressed the other angel, who avoided my gaze. "You burned her eyes out. Remember that? Good times." 

"Yeah, then she died saving one of your precious seals," Dean picked back up. "So maybe you can stop pushing us around like chess pieces for five freaking minutes!"

"We raised you out of Hell for our purposes," Uriel reminded him.

"Yeah, what were those again?" he asked. "What exactly did you want from me?"

"Start with gratitude."

"Oh."

"Dean, we know this is difficult to understand," Castiel spoke.

"And we," Uriel cut in with a pointed look at Cass, "don't care. Now, seven angels have been murdered, all of them from our garrison. The last one was killed tonight."

"Demons?" I quirked an eyebrow. "How're they doing it?"

"We don't know," Uriel admitted.

"I'm sorry, but what do you want us to do about it?" Sam asked. "I mean, a demon with the juice to ice angels has to be out of our league, right?"

"We can handle the demons, thank you very much," Uriel glared at him.

"Once we find whoever it is," Castiel added.

"So you need our help hunting a demon?" I inquired.

"Not quite," Castiel refuted. "We have Alastair."

"Great," Dean quipped. "He should be able to name your trigger man."

"But he won't talk," Castiel continued. "Alastair's will is very strong. We've arrived at an impasse."

"Yeah, well, he's like a black belt in torture," the elder Winchester nodded. "I mean, you guys are out of your league."

"That's why we've come to his student. You happen to be the most qualified interrogator we've got."

Dean looked down at Uriel's words.

"Dean, you are our best hope," Castiel pleaded.

"No. No way. You can't ask him to do this, Cass," I protested. "Not this."

"Who said anything about asking," Uriel responded, stepping towards Dean.

Realizing what Uriel was about to do, I grabbed Dean's hand a split second before he touched him, causing me to go along for the ride. When we landed, we were inside a warehouse. Through the window of a door, we could see Alastair chained to a hexacle in the middle of a devil's trap.

"The devil's trap is old Enochian," Castiel informed us. "He's bound completely."

"Fascinating," Dean muttered, turning away. "Where's the door?"

His hand was still clutched in mine, and he dragged me along with him.

"What are you doing?" Castiel asked.

"Hitch back to Cheyenne, thank you very much."

Dean pulled me past Uriel toward the door, then stopped short as the angel reappeared in front of us.

"Angels are dying, boy," Uriel spat.

"Everybody's dying these days. And hey, I get it. You're all-powerful. You can make me do whatever you want. But you can't make me do this."

"This is too much to ask, I know," Castiel said. "But we have to ask it."

Dean watched Castiel for a moment before looking back at Uriel.

"I want to talk to Cass alone," he informed the other angel.

Uriel looked from him to me, then over to Castiel before relenting.

"I think I'll go seek revelation. We might have further orders."

"Well, get some donuts while you're out," Dean quipped.

Uriel laughed, a genuine laugh, looking over at Castiel.

"Ah, this one just won't quit, will he?" he smirked, looking back at Dean. "I think I'm starting to like you, boy."

With that, Uriel disappeared with a flap of his wings.

"You guys don't walk enough," Dean said. "You're gonna get flabby."

Castiel didn't respond and Dean looked over at him.

"You know, I'm starting to think junkless has a better sense of humor than you do."

"Uriel's the funniest angel in the garrison. Ask anyone," Castiel responded seriously.

Letting go of my hand, Dean moved closer to the remaining angel.

"What's going on, Cass? Since when does Uriel put a leash on you?"

"My superiors have begun to question my sympathies."

"Your sympathies?"

"I was getting too close to the humans in my charge. You and Eleanor. They feel I've begun to express emotions. The doorways to doubt. This can impair my judgement."

"Well, tell Uriel, or whoever... you do not want me doing this, trust me."

"Want it, no," Castiel agreed. "But I have been told we need it."

"You ask me to open that door and walk through it, you will not like what walks back out."

"For what it's worth, I would give anything not to have you do this."

⁘

I watched as Dean wheeled a cart of various torture instruments through the door to where Alastair was being kept before the door slammed shut, drowning out what was being said. It was quiet for a few moments as Castiel and I just stood there. My eyes were glued to the little window in the door, watching Dean take the cloth the covered the instruments off the cart. And then, suddenly, the glass was tinted black so I couldn't see through anymore. I glared over at the angel accusatorially.

"Dean wouldn't want you to watch," he said by way of explanation.

"But you can still see and hear," I shot back, more of a statement than a question.

"Why'd you come, Eleanor? This didn't pertain to you."

"I couldn't leave him alone. Not if you were going to make him do this."

Castiel's piercing blue eyes studied me, his head tilted to the side in the signature way I'd come to associate with him.

"Let me hear."

"No."

"Then let me see."

"No."

"Pick one. I need to know what's going on in there, Cass."

"Dean wouldn't want-"

"Screw what he wants. You just sent him in to torture and interrogate the demon who trained him in Hell. I need to know what's going on in there. Right. Now."

Castiel just stared back at me, and for a moment, I thought he wasn't going to heed my request. But then he waved his hand, and although the glass remained dark, I could hear the voices of the two occupants of the other room.