The smell of coffee wakes you up in the morning. Sitting up in bed, your head feels better than you thought it would, considering the ghost of your father almost popped it off yesterday. Deciding to shrug it off, you get out of the bed and make your way downstairs. Entering the study, you see the brothers on the couch.
Dean looks up from the newspaper and at you. "Hey, what happened?" He asks, motioning to his own neck.
"My father's spirit was forced to rise and he came back vengeful?" You ask sarcastically.
He sighs and stands up, walking towards you. "Yeah, I know, genius. Just look."
He hands you his cellphone and you look at your reflection on the black screen. Sure enough, there's no sign at all of your father's hand around your neck. Handing him his phone back, you reach up and rub the bare skin with your other hand.
"I think Castiel did that." You admit.
"What, he visit you in dreamland too?"
You nod before walking to the wingback chair in the corner and taking a seat, tucking one leg under yourself. Dean returns to his seat and Sam looks up from his book.
"So, he comes to see you in your dreams to be a harbinger of the apocalypse," he points to Dean, then you, "and you to what? Heal your wounds and apologize? Looks like our angel has a soft spot."
You decide to ignore Sam's comments–and the small blush that creeps onto your face–and instead question Dean.
"He confirmed the apocalypse?"
"Allegedly the witnesses were the first of many seals. Lilith is trying to break these seals, and if she succeeds, Lucifer roams Earth. At least, that's what 'Touched by an Angel' says."
"So what do we do?" You ask.
Bobby enters the room holding two cups of coffee and hands you one before sitting at his desk. "We keep doing what we always do. Hunt things. We just also need to be on the lookout for omens."
You nod and take a sip of the coffee as Dean starts talking. "Speaking of hunting, I found a case. 'Man dead after eating razors in candy.'" He throws the paper on the coffee table.
"That's not really our thing, is it?" Sam questions.
"Not until you hear the rest of it. Buddy choked on multiple razors in one piece of candy."
"Sounds fishy enough. Where are we going?" You ask before taking another sip of the coffee.
"Baker, Montana. If we leave at eight we'll be there for two. That gives you half an hour to get ready." Dean says to both you and Sam.
"Sounds good." Turning your attention to Bobby, you ask, "Do you have anything to eat?"
He gives you a regretful look. "Not much. There might be some oatmeal packs in the cupboard beside the fridge."
You thank him and get up, bringing your coffee with you to the kitchen. Digging around in the old cupboard, you find two packs of maple brown sugar oatmeal packs stuffed in the back. They're probably expired, but too hungry to care, you rip open the paper and pour them into a bowl you took out of the dishrack. Checking the kettle on the stove, you find there's just enough water in it for your oatmeal, so you turn the back burner on.
Once the kettle's boiled and you've made the oatmeal to your liking, you grab a spoon from the dishrack and rejoin the group in the study.
You return to your seat and dig in until you see Sam watching you from the corner of your eye. Looking up, you see he has a grimace on his face.
"I swear to God if you say something about how unhealthy this is, I'm going to kill you."
Dean laughs at this. "Damn, Sammy, she really does know you."
"I just don't understand how they can still label that as oatmeal."
"If you want to do my grocery shopping, that's fine by me. Until then, shut your piehole," Bobby chimes in and takes a sip of his coffee.
You give Sam a bratty smile and he rolls his eyes.
Once you're finished your coffee and oatmeal, you run out to the car to grab your bag that you left there last night and bring it up to the spare bedroom. Dean said you'd be stopping at a motel before you question the victim's family, so you just dress in comfy clothes. Making sure your suit is in the bag, you zip it up and head downstairs where Sam and Dean are already waiting. The three of you say your goodbyes and hit the road.
𓆩𓆪
You're in the victim's house swiping the countertop for sulfur and Dean's checking in the oven while Sam questions the victim's wife.
"How many razor blades did they find?"
She sighs before answering, "Two on the floor, one in his stomach, and one was stuck in his throat. He swallowed four of them. How is that even possible?"
She raises an eyebrow at Dean. "The candy was never in the oven."
He stands up straight and clears his throat, "We have to be thorough Mrs. Wallace."
"Did the police find any razors in the rest of the candy?" You ask in an attempt to divert her attention from Dean.
"No. I mean, I don't think so. I just–I can't believe it. You hear urban legends about this stuff, but it actually happens?"
"More than you might imagine," Sam answers.
Dean stands up behind her and waves a hex bag around for you and Sam to see.
"Mrs. Wallace, did Luke have any enemies?" You question.
She looks taken aback. "Enemies?"
"Anyone who might have held a grudge against him? Co-workers? Neighbours? Maybe a woman." Sam clarifies.
Her expression quickly shifts into one of anger. "Are you suggesting an affair?"
"Is it possible?" He asks.
"No! No, Luke would never..." She trails off and you cut in.
"I'm very sorry. We just have to consider all possibilities."
"If someone wanted to kill my husband, don't you think they'd find a better way than a razor in a piece of candy he might eat?"
"You're very right, Mrs. Wallace. These are just questions we have to ask. We'll be out of your hair now. Thank you." You give her a kind smile and she leads the three of you to the door.
𓆩𓆪
Back at the motel room, you and Sam immediately hit the books to figure out the ingredients in the hex bag. Dean tosses his keys on the table by the door and pops a piece of candy he must have stolen into his mouth.
"Really?" Sam asks. "After that guy choked down all those razor blades?"
Dean just shrugs. "It's Halloween, man."
"Yeah, for us every day is Halloween." Sam sighs.
Dean walks over to the couch the two of you have set up base on and takes a seat on the arm, looking over at the books.
"Don't be a downer. Anything interesting?"
"We're definitely on a witch hunt," you sigh, placing your book down. "But this isn't your typical hex bag."
You motion to the hex bag you and Sam have been studying. Sam picks up a piece that looks like a dried flower.
"Goldthread, an herb that's been extinct for two hundred years." He picks up a coin next. "And this is Celtic, and I don't mean some new age knock-off. It looks like the real deal, like six hundred years old real."
Dean picks up a charred piece of bone and smells it.
"That is um...the charred metacarpal bone of a newborn baby." You regretfully inform him.
"Ugh, gross." He puts the bone down and the disgusted look on his face is comical.
Sam picks up the discarded bone. "Relax man, it's like, at least a hundred years old."
"Oh, right. Like that makes it any better? Witches, man, they're so friggin' skeevy."
"Yeah, well it takes a pretty powerful one to put a bag like this together." You explain.
𓆩𓆪
Later that night, you guys find out about a death at a Halloween party. Throwing your suits back on, Dean drives you to the scene. The party was in the basement and walking downstairs, you see a forensics agent taking pictures of an apple bobbing tub along with a police officer questioning a blonde teenager dressed as a cheerleader. Sam tries joining the questioning, but Dean holds up his arm.
"I got this one."
Sam sighs. "Two words. Jail bait."
You walk away to keep back a laugh as Dean starts saying, "I would never."
Sam starts looking underneath the couch cushion and you go over to the apple bobbing tub that the forensics agent just walked away from. After a few minutes, Sam discreetly holds up another hex bag. Dean quickly wraps up the questioning and the three of you head back to the motel room.
When you return, Dean situates himself at the table with the laptop, Sam lays across a bed with a book, and you curl up on the couch with a different book.
"Man, both of these vics are squeaky clean. There's no reason for a wicked bitch payback."
"Maybe because it's not about that," Sam suggests. This catches both yours and Dean's attention. "Maybe this witch isn't working the grudge, maybe they're working a spell. Check this out. Three blood sacrifices over three days, the last before midnight on the final day of the final harvest. Celtic calendar, the final day of the harvest is October thirty-first."
"Halloween," Dean notes to which Sam responds with exactly.
"So what are the blood sacrifices for?" You ask.
"If I'm right, this witch is summoning a demon, and not just any demon–Samhain."
"Am I supposed to be impressed?" Dean questions.
"Well, yeah." You say, the nerd in you coming alive. "Samhain is the origin of Halloween. The Celts believe October thirty-first is when the veil is the thinnest between the living and the dead. It was Samhain's night. People wore masks to hide from him, left sweets on their doorsteps to appease him, and carved pumpkins to worship him. He was exorcised centuries ago."
"So even though buddy took a trip downstairs, the tradition stuck. Okay, so some witch wants to raise Samhain and take back the night?"
"Dean, this is serious," Sam scolds him.
Dean throws up his arms, "I am serious."
"We're talking heavyweight witchcraft. This ritual can only be performed every six hundred years."
"And the six hundred year marker rolls around...?" He asks.
"Tomorrow night. And once he's raised, Samhain can do some raising of his own. By night's end we're talking every awful thing we have ever seen, all in one place." Sam explains.
"It's gonna be a slaughterhouse," you say fearfully.
"Right. Well, I'm going to scope out the Wallace house," Dean says, getting up and grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair.
"Good luck," you call out as he leaves the room.
About an hour goes by of you and Sam researching the victims and Samhain when Dean returns, mumbling about something. He throws his keys on the table.
"So Tracy? The Wallace's' babysitter. Told me she never even heard of Luke Wallace."
"Huh. Interesting look for a centuries old witch." Sam notes.
"Yeah, well, if you were a six-hundred-year-old hag and you could pick any costume to come back in, wouldn't you go for a hot cheerleader? I would."
Dean sits on his bed and ponders that until you clear your throat.
"Tracy's not as wholesome as she looks. We did some digging–apparently she got into a violent altercation with one of her teachers, got suspended from school."
"Great. Bright and early tomorrow, that's where we're headed."
The three of you take turns getting ready for bed in the bathroom before crawling into your respective beds. Thankfully this motel offered three-bed-rooms or else Sam would have had to take the couch. Before falling asleep you wonder if Castiel will visit you in your dreams again so that you can thank him. Waking up in the morning, you realize he didn't and you have to fight back a pang of disappointment. Besides, Sam's bugging everyone to wake up.
The three of you head to the school and question the teacher Tracy had an altercation with. He tells you that she would draw very gory images and cryptic symbols. One of those symbols being the one found on the coin in the hex bags.
You had decided to split up, Sam going to find Tracy and you and Dean asking her friends where she might be. Meeting back up at the motel, you find that both operations had been futile.
As the three of you walk into the motel room, you see Castiel with a stranger. Sam immediately raises his gun and asks, "Who are you?!"
You and Dean have to push his gun down.
"Sam, it's Castiel!" You explain.
"The angel." Dean adds before also saying, "Him, I don't know."
Castiel smiles. "Hello, Sam."
Sam is awestruck. "Oh my God–er–uh–I didn't mean to–sorry. It's an honour, really. I've heard a lot about you."
He steps forward, holding out his hand and Castiel looks at it confused. After a while, he clocks what Sam is gesturing, and shakes his hand.
"And I, you. Sam Winchester–the boy with the demon blood. Glad to see you've ceased your extracurricular activities."
Demon blood? Extracurricular activities? You think, and suddenly the pieces start somewhat clicking into place. All the times Sam would disappear when it was just the two of you. You make a mental note to interrogate him when you get the chance.
You're pulled out of your thoughts by the stranger speaking. "Let's keep it that way."
"Yeah, okay, chuckles," Dean quips before turning to Castiel. "Who's your friend?"
Castiel ignores Dean–as you've noted he does since your first interaction with him–and instead asks about the case.
"The raising of Samhain, have you stopped it?"
"Why?"
"Dean, have you located the witch?"
"Yes, we've located the witch."
"And the witch is dead?"
"No, but–" You start and Dean cuts you off.
"We know who it is."
Castiel walks over to one of the bedside tables and holds up a hex bag. "Apparently the witch knows who you are, too. This was inside the wall of your room. If we hadn't found it, surely one or all of you would be dead. Do you know where the witch is now?"
Although this was your first time seeing Castiel like this, you decided you didn't like this version of him. Instead, you wondered what happened to the version that came to you two nights ago in your dream.
"We're working on it." Dean answers.
"That's unfortunate," Castiel frowns.
"What do you care?" Dean interrogates the angel just as he had that night in the warehouse.
"The raising of Samhain is one of the sixty-six seals," he explains.
"So this is about your buddy Lucifer."
The stranger speaks again, "Lucifer is no friend of ours."
"It's just an expression," Dean defends.
"Lucifer cannot rise. The breaking of the seal must be prevented at all costs," Castiel explains.
"Okay, great, well now that you're here, why don't you tell us where the witch is, we'll gank her and everybody goes home."
"We are not omniscient. This witch is very powerful, she's cloaked even our methods."
"Well, we already know who she is, so if we work together–" This time, the stranger rudely cuts you off.
"Enough of this."
Dean's had just about enough at this point and he snaps. "Okay, who are you and why should I care?"
The stranger turns away from the window and stares at Dean.
"This is Uriel. He's what you might call a...specialist."
Uriel takes a step towards the three of you and Dean takes up a defensive stance. "What kind of specialist? What are you gonna do?"
"You–uh, all three of you–you need to leave this town immediately," Castiel warns.
"Why?" Dean questions.
"Because we're about to destroy it."
Your heart drops to your stomach. The man–or angel or whatever–that just brought you pajamas for comfort and healed your wounds is now talking about destroying an entire town.
"So this is your plan? You're going to smite the whole town?" You ask shakily.
Castiel's face falls and he opens his mouth to speak, then closes it, regaining his 'I don't care' composure before finally speaking. "We're out of time. This witch has to die, the seal must be saved."
"There are a thousand people here," Sam tries to rationalize with them.
"One thousand two hundred fourteen," Uriel says.
"And you're willing to kill them all?" Sam asks in disbelief.
"This isn't the first time I've...purified a city." Uriel answers with no sign of emotion.
"Look, I understand this is regrettable," Now Castiel is the one trying to rationalize.
"Regrettable?" You ask with a disbelieving huff.
"We have to hold the line. Too many seals have broken already." He answers calmly. Too calm, even.
"So you screw the pooch on some seals and this town has to pay the price?" Dean asks in an accusatory tone.
"It's the lives of one thousand against the lives of six billion. There's a bigger picture here."
"Right. Cause you're bigger picture kind of guys."
"Lucifer cannot rise. He does and hell rises with him. Is that something you're willing to risk?"
"We'll stop this witch before she summons anyone. Your seal won't be broken and no one has to die." Sam tries an attempt at compromise and Uriel huffs.
"We're wasting time with these mud monkeys."
Castiel turns away as if he doesn't want to face you, as if he's ashamed. "I'm sorry, but we have our orders."
"You can't do this. You're angels, I mean aren't you supposed to–you're supposed to show mercy." You start rambling, trying anything to get through to Castiel specifically and change his mind.
"Says who?" Uriel asks.
"We have no choice," Castiel responds regretfully.
"Of course you have a choice. I mean, come on, what? You've never questioned a crap order, huh? What are you both, just a couple of hammers?" Dean jumps in.
"Look, even if you can't understand it, have faith. The plan is just."
"How can you even say that?" Sam asks the angel.
"Because it comes from heaven, that makes it just."
"Oh, it must be nice, to be so sure of yourselves," Dean scoffs.
"Tell me something, Dean. When your father gave an order, did you obey?"
Dean looks at Castiel in disbelief for a moment before speaking. "Well sorry boys, looks like plans have changed."
"You think you can stop us?" Uriel asks.
Dean gets up in Uriel's face, "No, but if you're gonna smite this whole town, then you're gonna have to smite us with it, because we are not leaving. See, you went to the trouble of busting me out of hell. I figure I'm worth something to the man upstairs. So you wanna waste me, go ahead, see how he digs that."
"I will drag you out of here myself," he responds, clearly becoming more agitated.
"Yeah, but you'll have to kill me, then we're back to the same problem. I mean, come on, you're gonna wipe out a whole town for one little witch. Sounds to me like you're compensating for something." He turns to Castiel before continuing. "We can do this. We will find the witch and stop the summoning."
"Castiel!" Uriel booms, his voice echoing throughout the room. "I will not let these people–"
Castiel holds up his hand, "Enough!" Turning back to Dean, he adds, "I suggest you move quickly."
He gives you the same nod he did the last time before he and Uriel disappear in a fluttering of wings, leaving you, Sam, and Dean to scramble.
.˳·˖✶𓆩𓁺𓆪✶˖·˳.
another absolute lugger of a chapter, holy crap. this chapter was so hard for me to get through because i hate having to do plot. i want to just jump into the relationship so badly😭anyways, we're at a point now where i will be skipping any episodes that don't include cas. we gotta get the ball moving eventually.