Libby could feel movement in the bed next to her and she turned over, greeted by the sight of Dean staring at her with a small smile on his lips.
"That's a creepy sight to wake up to," she teased. Dean chuckled, shaking his head.
It had been a week since they got back from Rexford, Idaho. Libby had recovered from her kill the next day and apologized for snapping at Dean, which ended in a very heated makeout session that was interrupted by Kevin walking in the kitchen. After making him swear not to tell Sam, the three went their separate ways in the Bunker.
"Well, that's too bad because you're the perfect sight for me to wake up to," he replied. Libby snorted, shaking her head slightly. "Too much?"
"Just a bit." Dean let out a laugh before leaning forward, placing a kiss on her lips. Libby kissed back instantly, smiling against his lips when he reached out and gripped her hips, pulling the redhead closer towards him. She gasped when he grabbed her ass, giving him the chance to take the kiss further.
"Dean," she whispered breathlessly as he kissed along her jaw.
"Hm?" he hummed against her skin, running his hand along the back of her bare thigh.
"Everyone's here," she reminded him. Dean pulled away for a moment, staring into her eyes, and his hands stopped and rested on her thigh and hip.
"And Kevin is sleeping down the hall and Sam is probably in the library reading one of his books that he thinks we don't know about," he told her. Libby thought about it for a moment before nodding. "You good?"
"Yeah." Libby grinned. "Yeah, I'm good." Dean flipped them over, Libby on her back as he hovered over her, his hands holding him up on either side of her. She let out a giggle from the tickling feeling as he kissed down her neck.
"Damn. You're just too ticklish," he muttered against her collarbone with a shake of his head.
"It's not my fault," she defended. Dean raised an eyebrow at her, now staring down at her. "It's just too bad that you're not ticklish." Libby ran her hands along his abs, enjoying the feeling of his torso. Her gaze fell on his anti-possession tattoo and her hand unconsciously moved to the scar of her own anti-possession symbol on her hip that her mother had given her right before she was banished to Hell.
Dean noticed this action and placed a hand on hers, pressing her hand flat against the scar. "You can hardly notice it," he lied smoothly, giving her a reassuring smile.
After Libby had been resurrected, all of the scars on her body had disappeared with the exception of the anti-possession symbol. No one questioned it or told her. It wasn't something she needed to know.
Libby leaned up and placed a kiss on Dean's chapped lips, running her tongue over his bottom lip. "Did you know that I can tell when you're lying?" she said. Dean's face flushed red and she let out a laugh. "Not all the time, just at moments like this where you let your guard down."
"I guess we'll both have to work on that then," he replied, removing his hand and leaning back down. He went to kiss her again when there was a knock on the door to his room. Dean let out a groan. "What?" he yelled out.
"Have you seen—" Sam cut himself off when he opened the door and Dean hung his head, knowing he had been caught. "Nevermind. I see you found her," Sam said awkwardly, clearing his throat. Libby squeezed her eyes shut in embarrassment and covered her face with her hands, feeling the heat creeping up her cheeks. "Uh, how long exactly has this been going on?"
"Get out," Dean said. Sam nodded.
"Yep. I'll go do that," he replied, leaving and shutting the door behind him. Dean looked back down at Libby.
"Any chance you can erase this from his memory?" Libby sighed, shaking her head.
"I wish. With Ezekiel in there I can't use any angelic powers on him." Dean nodded but didn't reply, so Libby ran her hands up and down his biceps. Dean looked down at her, noticing her reassuring smile. "Just because we were caught doesn't mean we can't continue this." Dean felt a smile cross his lips again and kissed Libby, but rolled off of her and got out of bed. She pouted but got out of bed also, grabbing her shirt from the floor.
"I have to take a shower—a cold shower—and then find a case," he told her, slipping his shirt over his head before pulling his jeans on over his boxers. Libby rolled her eyes.
"I know that we're Hunters and all, but is that all we have to do? We just got back from a Rugaru Hunt and before that was a vengeful spirit and before that was a werewolf. We do deserve some breaks. Even just sitting in the Bunker and figuring out a way to reverse Metadouche's spell sounds nice. I just—"
"Libby, there's something Sam and I haven't told you." She cut herself off and stared at Dean with raised eyebrows, her leggings in her hand. Dean sighed and ran a hand over his face tiredly and stressfully. "Crowley translated what Kevin couldn't. There isn't a way to reverse the spell."
"Yes, there is, Dean. I wrote it with him, remember? I remember writing a way to reverse the spell. It's in there." Dean shook his head.
"If you did write a way then Metatron didn't put it in. There's no way listed in the Angel Tablet. The angels are stuck on Earth." The redhead slipped on her leggings and rushed out of the room to where they kept the translations of the Angel Tablet.
She pulled it out of the box, skimming through them. Half of what she had written wasn't there anymore. Metatron had taken them out. "No. No, no, no, no, no. No!" she yelled out, slamming her fist down on the table. Sam walked over to her as she ran a hand through her unruly hair, looking over the translations again.
"Libby? What's wrong?"
"It's gone. Sam, the spell to reverse this is gone." Sam's eyes widened.
"Crowley said—"
"He wasn't lying." She looked up to the taller Hunter, stress clear in her eyes. "The spell I had written to reverse the effects is gone. Metatron took that and half of what I had written out of the Tablet. He must've done it after I was banished. It'd make sense," she explained. Sam sighed and turned to Dean just as he entered the room.
"You're saying that there was a way to reverse it and kick the angels back up to Heaven?" Dean asked. Libby nodded.
"Yes, but with how much he had taken out there's no way to even create a reversal spell. And if there is then Metatron has it. I don't remember what the spell was either."
"Meaning?" Sam asked.
"We're screwed. We're completely and totally screwed," Libby told them. Dean spun around and swiped the books off of the table behind him and Libby leaned on the table, holding her head in her hands. Sam sighed and ran a hand through his hair, unsure of what to do now. Libby's knowledge wasn't of any use to them now. None of it would make any difference.
"So we're stuck with pissed off angels and vulnerable humans. Great," Dean said sarcastically, throwing his hands up in the air before letting them fall back to his side. Libby ran her hands down her face as she lifted her head up, staring down at the translations. Her hands were pressed together, resting on her lips.
"Ezekiel, niiso," she muttered. Sam's posture stiffened, his eyes glowing blue before looking down at Libby. "What do you know about Metatron and the Angel Tablet?" She looked up to him, the stress clear on her. Dark bags lined the bottom of her eyes, almost looking as dark as a bruise.
"Just as much as any other angel now. Why do you ask?" She slid the translations towards him.
"Metatron erased a majority of what I had written. I know you had read the Tablet. Is there any way that we could find a loophole?" Dean watched as Ezekiel read through the translations. A minute later he had shook his head, setting the papers back down.
"No. I am sorry, Elizabeth, there is nothing." She nodded and ran a hand through her hair. "Why is your hair so messy?" he questioned. She glared up at him, not in the mood for his questions. Ezekiel glanced between Libby and Dean, piecing it together. "Oh. My apologies." Dean rolled his eyes.
"Just bring back my brother," he snapped. Sam's posture slumped slightly, signaling his return. They were at a loss here. So Libby stood up, pushing the chair back in its spot. "Where are you going?"
"Talk to Crowley." Dean raced forward and grabbed Libby's arm before she could leave the room. She glanced down at his arm, eyebrow raised, before looking back up at him.
"Crowley doesn't know anything, Libby. Look, just go ahead and take a shower. We'll figure something out, okay?" She nodded and crossed the room in the opposite direction, heading to her room to grab some clothes. The minute Libby was out of earshot Sam walked over to Dean.
"How long have you and Libby been going on?" Sam inquired. Dean's gaze shifted to his little brother.
"Since we got back from the case with The Colonel. It's been an on and off thing, but that's when it started," Dean explained. He tilted his head to the side. "Why? Are you jealous?" Sam shook his head.
"No, it's just—"
"If it's hurting you then say the word and I'll end it," Dean whispered, careful that Libby wouldn't be able to hear if she were using her powers. "I don't need your head out of the game and I don't want to be the reason you—" Sam shook his head.
"No, Dean, it's fine. It's just something I have to get used to is all. That's not the Libby we knew and unless she gets her memories back it'll never be. We don't even know where she went when she died. Dean, part of her soul is missing and we don't know the first place to look for it." Dean nodded, licking his lips in thought.
"Lucifer could reach out to her from the Cage, right?" Sam nodded. "Well, what if someone pulled her from the Cage? I mean, think about it. No one would get word that she was locked up there. There's no way to pass messages between the Cage and Hell." The younger Winchester shrugged.
"I mean, it's a possibility, but—" He cut himself off, his eyes widening. "The book."
"What?"
"That book that has Libby's story. When she found it her death was written into it. Maybe it'll tell us where she went," he explained. Dean's eyes widened and he turned on his heel, rushing to his room. Sam was on practically on top of him as they ran, desperate to see if the book had the location of Libby's soul.
But when Dean opened the drawer that he had left the book in what little hope he had was lost. The book was gone. "Do you think she has it?" Sam asked. Dean shook his head.
"No. No, I would know if she did. Libby can hide many things but not a book that big. Where the hell would it have gone?" Sam shrugged. "Help me look."
The brothers dug through every drawer in the room and searched the closet, but came up with nothing. Not one book was in Dean's room, which was a no-brainer, besides John's journal that lay atop his desk. Dean slammed the last drawer shut.
"Nothing. Absolutely nothing."
"It couldn't have left the Bunker. We're the only two who know about it besides Libby."
~*~
Up in the clouds where Heaven is, a Heavenly figure stepped out of a doorway and into a room where a redhead lay on the floor. The figure pounded her fist on the wall. "Wake up," she spat. The redhead's eyes fluttered open and she sat up, glancing around. Her eyes widened at the sight of the figure.
"Azrael told me you died," she whispered, pushing herself off of the ground. "That he killed you himself." The Heavenly figure shook her head, a smirk crossing her lips.
"He lied. It was his way of getting inside your head." The redhead glanced around the room, recognizing it as her own from when she was a kid. The books still lay discarded on the pearl white floor from her search months earlier.
"Someone will find me here. I'm banished from Heaven." The figure laughed, shaking her head.
"No, Elizabeth, they won't." Elizabeth cocked her head to the side. "Heaven is empty. All of the angels were cast and locked out thanks to Metatron. It's just us and the souls who have no way of getting out." Elizabeth nodded slowly.
"Then how are you still here?" she asked cautiously. "How are we still here? If we were locked out then—"
"We're not angels." Elizabeth took a wary step back, glancing around the room for any weapon. But there were none. She mentally cursed herself for getting rid of them all during her rebellion to be a warrior. "You're an Archangel, yes, but of Hell. Not Heaven."
"And you? You're an angel."
"I suppose that's what we've told you all these years, isn't it?" Elizabeth nodded as if it were obvious. "Lucifer was an Archangel, but I was no angel."
"Nadia, you're confusing me. Just spit it out already," Elizabeth hissed. She clenched her fists at her sides. She had a certain anger in her. But it was all anger. No sympathy, no remorse, and no kindness. It was almost as if she were a demon herself.
"Hell has an angel, so Heaven must have someone of equal power. There have been rumors of me, but they were never confirmed." Nadia started to pace the length of the bedroom and Elizabeth let out a scoff.
"That's the point of rumors, Nadia." Nadia sent her daughter a harsh glare. "So what the hell are you then? If you're not a Hell Angel then what?"
"Ever heard of Heaven's Demon?" Elizabeth gulped, but she didn't feel fear. It wasn't an emotion that came to her in slightest. Nadia must've sensed that because she stopped a foot from her daughter and grinned. "And your lack of fear or empathy, there's a perfectly reasonable explanation for that."
"Which is what?"
"When you killed Azrael you were sent to Heaven for some unknown reason." Elizabeth knew exactly why but she refrained from saying anything. "Before the angels were cast out, a piece of you managed to stay in a safe place. It separated part of you." Elizabeth furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. "Your soul, Elizabeth, is split into two. The good and the bad."
"My soul can't be split or removed from me. It's how I was made. There's no possible way—"
"Anything is possible, Elizabeth, and I'm going to prove that to you. I need you to do me a favor. A big one." She nodded. She felt as if she could trust her mother despite what she had just told her. "Go down to Hell and spy on Abaddon. I need my intel from a trustworthy source."
"And why can't you do that?"
"Because everyone believes I'm an angel. When the Archangel of Hell expresses interest in ruling over Hell, no one will question it. Your good half cannot get the throne of Heaven or Hell. It just cannot happen." Elizabeth nodded. She had a point.
"So if I'm ruling Hell then who will run Heaven? God doesn't want that that position anymore. He's made that perfectly clear," Elizabeth replied. Nadia nodded.
"Me. We can conjoin the two. We just need to kick Metatron and Abaddon out of the picture." Elizabeth nodded, a smirk coming across her lips. She liked the idea of all of that power. The idea of ruling alongside her mother. Together they could conjoin Hell and Heaven into one big powerful force.
"When can we start?"