Goodland, Kansas.
The Night Of.
Three friends were in the cemetery. Two young men and a woman. College-aged. They had flashlights and candles with them, plus one of the boys carried a bag filled with bones, plants and a few special trinkets while the other toted a shovel. The girl carried a book.
"This is a really bad idea, Brad," the woman said.
"Relax, Jen," the man replied. "You said you wanted to do something different. So we are."
"Brian," she whimpered to her boyfriend, the third member of the group.
"Come on dude...you're freaking her out."
Brad stopped and turned, spinning the shovel for good effect. He shook his head in dismay at Brian. "Man up," he said.
Brian bristled. He took Jen's hand and they continued walking. They stopped at an obelisk. Brad looked back at his friends and snickered. They shot him looks back to grow up. Brad turned west and then stopped at his final destination. A statue of a woman looking down. There was a dry trail of brown down from the eyes. Blood.
"Whose grave is this?" Brian asked.
"It's not a grave. It's a marker," Brad replied. "It marks an entrance."
"An entrance to what?" Jen asked.
Brad didn't answer. Instead he started digging. He dug a small circular hole in front of the statue. He motioned to Brian for his bag. Brian opened it and took out the hex bag, a chalice and a knife. Brad emptied its contents into the hole. Then he lit a match and set it on fire. The flames erupted immediately. Much higher than normal. He looked to Brian and Jen through the flame, the fire reflected in his eyes.
"Read," he ordered Jen.
She flipped open the book to the marked page and slowly began reading the Latin. She had 2 years of the language under her belt but struggled with some of the words. Brad was annoyed. He picked up the chalice, walked over and shot Jen a dirty look as she cowered away. He motioned for her to go on. She kept reading. Brad turned his attention to Brian. He walked up to the boy as Brian drew to his full height. In one fell swoop Brad slashed across Brian's throat. He gurgled and dripped blood into the chalice. Jen screamed, dropped the book, and started to run. Brian's body fell to the ground. Brad's eyes rolled into the back of his head and when they re-emerged they were black. Beetle black.
Jen ran down the cemetery road screaming. Tears streamed down her face as her mind raced and panic set in. She turned to look back -- no one was chasing her. She turned back, right as she slammed into a remarkably board chest. Sam's. She looked up at him and screamed.
"Whoa, just chill," Dean, who was just off to Sam's right, said.
"We're not going to hurt you," Sam said, with puppy eyes in full effect. "We're here to help."
The girl, still in tears, nodded. She started blabbering incoherently. Dean and Sam struggled to calm her down.
"The man that brought you here. Where is he?" Dean asked.
The girl turned back to the direction she'd run from. Sam and Dean looked over her, trying to make out the demon. It was hard to tell if Ipos was done with the ritual or not. There was one way to find out.
******
Dot combustible valley.
The day before.
In a revelation that surprised neither Sam nor Dean, the knife they'd hoped to grab from the Cantor Arts exhibit was missing. They called Bobby. He was trying to find another one of the knives from the set. There was nowhere to go until then. Too tired to consider beer safe they were commiserating over root beers. They leaned on the hood of their late model sedan in Bayfront Park in the late morning sun. Sam was silently smoldering. Dean was silently seething. They were both tired. They were both angry. Time changed some things. Just not everything.
Dean held up his root beer. "Cheers to destiny kicking us in the ass one more time," he said. Sam grumped and clinked his glass root beer bottle to that. They each took a long swig.
"Alex was right. The demons were just distracting us. We got fooled on both counts. We didn't save Jess and we didn't save her," Sam said. "Because of destiny." Sam waved his arms dismissively.
Dean peered into his bottle. It was just root beer -- right? "This isn't over," he promised.
"I know, Dean," Sam sighed. "It never is."
They were silent for a few minutes. They each finished one root beer and popped open another. Time, time, time. Wasting away.
"I still can't shake this feeling," Sam said halfway through the second bottle. "Like Cas wasn't telling us something."
"Feeling like one too many burritos pit of your stomach feeling?" Dean asked, drawing to attention. "Or cracked-out yellow eyed demon psychic feeling?"
Sam noted the alarmed look on Dean's face. "More like a second act of a bad mystery cruise feeling," he cracked. Dean mugged at him. "I don't know. It's just based on knowing Cas...and how badly he lies," Sam said.
Dean relaxed a bit. No psychic stuff, thank god. He agreed with Sam's assessment. Castiel was being oddly vague about things, playing a bit too much like he didn't know anything. Weren't angels supposed to be the seers? Dean avoided raising the issue in front of Alex. It would have been another thing for her to be scared about. Now that she was gone...Dean decided he'd bring it up the next time Castiel appeared.
And like clockwork Castiel chose that moment to reappear. He materialized several feet away from Dean and Sam. Castiel looked around for them, and spotting neither the Impala nor the Chevelle, he seemed confused. Dean whistled and waved to draw the angel's attention. Castiel ran towards them. His haste was duly noted by the Winchesters. As their friend drew near Dean noticed cuts on Castiel's face. They were healing quickly but they were there, and noticeable.
"You OK Cas? You look like you were on the wrong side of a cheese grater," Dean asked.
Castiel nodded, leaning over to catch his breath. "I was in Pontiac. Checking on my vessel," he said.
"Jimmy?" Sam asked. "Everything alright?"
"He's fine," Castiel said as he recovered. He stood back up fully and saw the concerned looks on Dean and Sam's faces. "They have rose bushes," he explained.
"Peeping Cas!" Dean laughed. "That's gotta be some kind of sin."
Sam cleared his throat meaningfully and Dean settled down.
"How'd you find us?" Dean asked.
"I called Bobby," Castiel answered. "He's going to meet up with us soon. Ipos, he's going to try to raise Semiazas. They've collected enough angels to perform the ritual to bring Semiazas to Earth."
"We didn't find the knife," Sam began cautiously. "Do you know where it is?"
Castiel scanned the parking lot. Dean and Sam did likewise, unsure of what they were looking for.
"We can't talk here," Castiel said, and tapped them on the forehead. The trio vanished, leaving two root beers and a late model sedan behind.
******
Heavenly meet up spot.
Sam noticed a single streak of light pouring into the room. It smelled dingy. Musty. Old. He knew it right away.
"Where are we?" Dean called out from the shadows.
"Salina," Sam replied. "The meeting spot."
"The where?" Dean asked again, stepping into the light.
The door slid open and Castiel walked in. Dean and Sam noticed one palm was bloody. The other hand held a stick. He slid the door mostly closed and used the remaining light to sketch a symbol into the ground. Then he closed the door the rest of the way. The bunker became dark again. Castiel walked across the dirt floor, found a large candle and an old oil lamp. He lit both. He brought them to the center of the room and placed the candle on an old wooden table in the center. He handed the lamp to Sam, who hung it from a hook sticking out of the wall. The bunker glowed in low yellow tones.
"What is this place?" Dean asked.
"A haven. A safe spot for angels. No one can see us in here. Hopefully we weren't followed," Castiel said.
"Demons?" Sam asked for clarification.
Castiel shook his head no. "Other angels."
"What's going on Cas? You've been harder to pin down than a frat boy on a pub crawl." Dean tried to tread lightly with his close friend.
"I found the angel that pulled you and Sam back here." Castiel announced. "It was Raziel herself."
"Alex's angel?" Dean asked. Castiel nodded. "But we didn't do what she wanted -- Alex still died."
"I think we all know that when Heaven has a task for you, death means little." Castiel explained. "She is working on that task as we speak."
"In Hell?" Sam asked, eyes wide.
Castiel confirmed it and leaned back. "Dean, do you remember when I asked to borrow your amulet? To look for God?"
Dean nodded.
"When I couldn't find God, there was another angel to turn to. Raziel. But what I found was only a shell of the angel. She's been in hiding for who knows how long, away from the traitorous group of angels. When she saw what you two did in the Apocalypse she saw a chance to escape. So she brought you back here to help free her. And if we can help her, she can help you." Castiel searched Dean and Sam for their reactions. Their faces were both blank. Dean's twisted in confusion.
"Help with what? The Apocalypse is over," Dean said dismissively.
"There are factions of demons rising; the likes of which you have never faced before," Castiel retorted. "Heaven is a mess. And Lucifer is trying to break back out."
Dean shook his head. "Sam left him locked down in his cage," he said of Lucifer.
"With a temporary patch, Dean," Sam said warningly. "Who knows how long it will hold."
"She is the angel of mysteries," Castiel reminded them. "And she sees things the rest of us cannot. She knows of a weapon that can stop Semiazas. And perhaps, of one that can stop Lucifer from breaking back out."
"Angels are after her? And are they after you?" Sam's voice held tremendous concern.
"I can hold them off," Castiel said toughly.
Dean folded his arms. Sam digested.
"How do we help her now?" Sam asked.
"We have to kill Ipos," Castiel urged. "And then Semiazas. It won't happen all at once. The knife will work on Ipos. It won't work on his leader."
"They'll know we're coming," Sam argued. "They've known every step we've taken so far -- maybe they followed us back here from the future."
"Demons can't travel through time like angels can," Castiel retorted. "Only Lucifer would have been able to warn them. And I don't think he knows what Semiazas is doing. Lucifer's main focus is still Azazel right now. With Lilith close behind."
"So how did they..." Sam started to ask how the demons knew the actions he and Dean would take.
"Alex," Dean said. "They were listening through Alex. It was part of the blood spell."
Castiel nodded again. "It was why I couldn't tell you more earlier."
"Then why shoot me all the way back to 1983?" Sam wondered. "What was so important back there, besides our family?"
The angel frowned. "You had the unfortunate distinction of being able to distract Mastema. When he spotted you out of time sync, it distracted him from his original target." Castiel paused. "And that's who has the knife now."
"Well, we're all just one big, happy, damned vessel family," Dean snarked.
"She doesn't know that she's a vessel Dean, and you can't tell her," Castiel warned. "It could have serious implications down the line."
"What's the weapon Raziel knows about?" Sam asked, changing the subject slightly.
"I'm not familiar," Castiel demurred. "But it has something to do with the Colt."
Dean stood up and paced. "The Colt? Some good that did!" He half-yelled. "Great. We've got quite the arsenal. A knife that can kill some demons and not others -- now new and improved! A gun that takes down certain demons in one shot and barely scrapes others. I am so sick of these damn riddles." He tossed over a table angrily.
"Were it that one weapon trumped them all," Castiel said, "We'd be in a less safe world."
Dean shot him an angry look but clammed up as the angel stared him down.
"Who has the knife, Cas?" Sam asked. Castiel told him. "You're kidding," Sam gasped.
******
Home sweet home.
Castiel had told Bobby to meet them in Salina. He arrived driving the Chevelle Dean had boosted a few weeks before.
"It ain't your car, I know," Bobby had said. "But for what it's worth, your 2005 self is glad to have the Impala back."
Dean understood. "I'd be thanking you too; I mean, I guess I did." The conundrum overtook him. Bobby was muttering something about damn time travel bullshit to himself.
Dean and Sam headed East to Lawrence while Castiel took care of getting Bobby back to South Dakota. The angel hadn't revealed who he was holding off. The brothers agreed they had to be prepared to fight anything. Demons. Angels. Whatever. Sam was also worried that Castiel was in trouble himself. He clued Dean in to his last meeting spot visit, during which Castiel admitted to not seeing the future clearly. Dean thought it meant the future was changing. Sam was afraid it meant Castiel was going to die.
The Winchesters, upon first re-uniting, gave each other quick updates of what had happened since the showdown in Stull Cemetery. Sam still had plenty of questions though. A long car ride seemed like as good a time as any to get a few of those questions out of the way.
"You starting to remember anything else?" Sam asked Dean.
"Maybe a few things," Dean admitted.
"What's the last thing you remember?" Sam asked. "Before you ended up in some crater with a tree in 2005?"
Dean pondered it. "Apple pie," he said with a slight smile. "Lisa was giving me a slice of apple pie."
Sam smiled. "So you did go back to her."
"Yeah," Dean grunted. "But I didn't stay long."
"Why not?" His brother asked.
"It wasn't safe. Wasn't long before I started hearing bumps in the night. I went there full-on planning to give up hunting. But hunting wasn't ready to let go of me." Dean sounded remorseful.
"Are they OK? Lisa and Ben?"
"They're fine," Dean assured Sam. "I sent them somewhere safe. It was a mistake to think I could live that life though. Not with them. They don't know the life -- I don't want them to know the life. So I just visit sometimes. To check up on them."
"I'm sorry, Dean," Sam said, and meant it.
"What about you?" Dean changed the subject.
"Honestly? I remember feeling my hand squeeze in a way I wasn't controlling and watching Cas splatter in a million directions. I remember...staring into the backseat of the Impala. I remember falling. And then...not much. Not a damn thing really. It was like I was asleep or something. When I woke up, I was in Kansas. In '83."
"Well, lucky for you," Dean said, knowing all too well that it wasn't.
"Dean, you didn’t get me out of there, did you?" Sam asked. His brother shot him a dirty look, which Sam returned in kind.
“No!” Dean insisted. “You made me promise not to, remember? Or was that part of your eternal sunshine of the Lucifer mindwipe too? I did what you told me. I gave up hunting for as long as I could. I tried the family deal. I…” he trailed off. He tried to forget about Sam, he thought to himself.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Sam pried.
"Absolutely not!" Dean said, too fast and too loud.
"No, of course not, because that would indicate emotions and I should know by now that you only have two: mad and not as mad!" Sam replied, exasperated. He crossed his arms in the passenger seat as an epic bitchface settled in. He turned to look out the window. So much for a happy reunion.
"What do you want, Sam? Want us to hold each other and tell our deep, dark secrets? Then trust fall into each others' arms? Maybe read some poetry to each other? Cause I don't need any of that touchy feely kumbaya crap. I never wanted you to land in that cage. I never wanted you to say Yes. I've spent every day since you fell in wondering how I could be such a terrible brother. How I could let you do that. You being back? It's like a miracle. One I don't think I deserve. So I don't want to talk about it. Because I'm afraid this might all go away if I even acknowledge it," Dean said, his voice cracking ever-so-slightly at the end.
Sam didn't reply.
"Come on man, I don't want to argue about this," Dean relented after a couple of minutes in silence. "We each got our own kind of therapy. This is mine -- us, together, out on the road."
Sam still didn't reply. Dean shook his head. He fiddled with the radio, until it settled upon REM's "Everybody Hurts." Dean wasn't a fan of the band but everyone knew the words to it. Sam was still staring out the window, angry at everything. Dean started singing to him -- off-key and with more than a touch of smarm.
"When you're sure had enough of this life...well hang on..." Dean crooned.
"Dean, stop," Sam begged.
"Don't let yourself gooooo...cause everybody cries...come on, you eat this shit up, don't you?" Dean teased. Dean couldn't hear Sam's reply but he was sure it was pure asshattery.
"Everybody hurrrrrtttsss, sometimes," Dean sang.
Sam leaned in and flipped the radio off. Dean pretended to be disappointed. Then after another minute he laughed.
"Come on, pookie, for me?" Dean joked, putting on a frowny face. Sam finally cracked.
Even though he was still looking away Dean knew he was laughing. "Maybe Cas will want to share a couch with you later. You two can have your chicken soup for the soul crap," Dean promised.
"Sounds great," Sam snarked with a smile.
******
A few hours later, they pulled up in front of the house. Dean faintly remembered it from his childhood but for Sam it held many more memories, recently made but further back in time. Dean had offered to stop so they could pick up suits, or uniforms, or some kind of disguises. Sam had refused. He said they wouldn't need them. He asked Dean to follow his lead. Dean was leery of letting his little brother take charge. But he trusted Sam, so he relented temporarily.
Sam and Dean walked up the front walk and knocked on the door. Castiel had said this was the place.
Joey Woodson answered the door. She looked slightly older than when Sam had last seen her, but still looked great. A confused look on her face gave way to one of excitement. Though the screen still stood between them she opened the house door all the way.
"Sam?" she asked excitedly. "Is that you?"
"Joey," Sam said with a wide smile. "Long time no see."
Joey opened the screen and came out onto the porch. She threw her arms around Sam in a hug. He folded her into his own giant arms. Dean cocked an eyebrow upon spying a gun holstered to Joey's waist. He said nothing.
"And who's this?" she said, pointing to Dean.
"This is my brother," Sam said carefully. He avoided giving him a name for now. "We were just passing through town and I just...I don't know, wanted to say hello to some old friends."
"Well, I'm glad you did. You boys want to come in?" Joey asked warmly. They both nodded.
She invited them inside and they plopped down on the couch. "Water OK?" She asked from the kitchen and the boys confirmed it was. Dean looked around the living room. Joey clearly hadn't decorated the place. Sam whispered to him that it was her parents' place. Dean nodded and continued to inspect the room. He saw some photos on a table near his side of the couch. He looked at photos of Joey's family. He picked up one photo. It was Joey's dad and Dean's dad outside of Woodson's garage. Dean studied it. The smile on his father's face was one he'd seen so rarely. He replaced the photo. Family photos were mixed upon photos of friends. Dean saw another one of interest. Joey and Sam outside a local diner sometime in 1983. Joey looked thrilled. Sam looked pained. His forever pained brother. Dean put that photo back too.
Joey returned with 3 waters. The boys eagerly gulped theirs down from thirst.
"Gosh, Sam, you haven't changed a bit," Joey sighed. "If I didn't know better I'd say you hadn't aged a day."
"Oh, maybe a few days," Dean rattled a bit too honestly. Sam quickly bitchfaced at him.
"I suppose you might have stopped by the Winchesters place too," Joey said, tone a bit softer. "Unfortunately Mary passed on. John and the boys left town several years ago now. They would have liked to see you."
Dean looked away. Sam looked down. "I heard," Sam said plaintively. "They were good people."
"What do you do, Joey?" Dean asked to break the silence that had set in.
"Me?" Joey answered sheepishly. "I work at the Sheriff's office."
Dean nodded. Explained the gun.
"And... well, you're his brother so you must know what Sam does. I'm kind of a hunter too, actually."
Sam nearly dropped his glass. "You're a hunter?"
"That really explains the gun," Dean reasoned.
Joey nodded. "Did you hear how Mary Winchester died? They say a demon did it. And she's not the only one in town either. My whole life people have been dying in real funny ways in this town. I guess I fell into it to protect myself."
"Holy water?" Dean asked, holding up his glass.
"Yep," Joey replied with a sly grin.
"Why didn't you just get out of here?" Sam asked.
Joey shrugged. "There was always a reason to stay. Family first, then my job, then I don't know. Where else was I really gonna go? I couldn't just run off one day like you did."
Sam ducked a bit. He was about to find out what happened in the aftermath of leaving with Castiel, and he knew it.
"You just disappeared, Sam," Joey continued. "A lot of people looked for you. Then we found your truck ditched outside of town and we figured you'd jumped ship. You left everyone in a lurch. Especially me."
"Joey, I didn't want to leave," Sam started.
"No, forget it. After a while I figured it out. That demon that possessed me? You were hunting it, weren't you?" she asked.
"You remember that?" Sam asked, brow furrowed.
"Yeah, I remember," Joey nodded. "It's back, isn't it? I've seen all the signs around here. That's why you're here?"
Sam was hoping it would make his job easier. "That's why Dean and I are here," he slipped.
Joey's brow furrowed. "Dean? Your brother's name is Dean? Sam and Dean?" The
Winchesters exchanged looks. "That's some coincidence, isn't it?"
"No, it's not," Sam said. "Because we are Mary and John's kids."
Joey laughed. "I knew your last name wasn't Hagar. But you're a little old to be their kids! And what all those years ago? You were in your 20s then! You kinda look like you're in your 20s now!"
"I know this is going to sound crazy," said Sam, puppy dog eyes in full force. "But we are the Winchester boys. We came back in time to stop a demon. I started in 1983. And now Dean and I are here." He stopped to check on Joey's reaction. She looked surprised but not angry so he continued. "And we're here because you have something we need."
"I have something you need?" Joey repeated, dumbfounded.
Sam nodded. "A knife."
"A knife?" Joey repeated again.
Sam nodded again. "It's made of silver. It has a slight curve to it. It's got a pearlized handle. We heard you have it," Sam said, looking to Dean for support. His older brother leaned in.
"We're chasing after something really bad," Dean reinforced. "And this knife may be the only way to kill it."
"How do you know I have it?" Joey asked, arms folded.
"Security tapes," Dean lied quickly. "We saw you on the tapes."
Joey frowned. She thought she had been more careful. She hated the idea of giving up something she'd just worked so hard to get. But Sam and Dean looked determined. She got up and left the room. Dean and Sam exchanged looks. When she came back she had a cloth in-hand. She unfolded it to reveal the knife.
"Another hunter asked me to get this," she said. "I'm gonna have a heck of a time explaining why I don't have it tonight."
"What's happening tonight?" Sam asked.
"I don't know all the details but word is there's a whole bunch of demons circling around Goodland right now," Joey said.
It meant Bobby's information had been good. They needed to get there.
Joey reluctantly gave them the knife. "I'm going too," she said.
"You don't want in on this mess, trust me," Dean said, shaking his head. Joey gave him a dirty look.
"How about this?" Sam offered. "We'll go, and once we check it out we'll call you. Then you can decide whether to come or not."
Joey considered it, then nodded. "Alright."
The brothers quickly said their goodbyes and headed outside. Once they were a safe distance from the house, Dean looked at Sam and smiled. He pointed to Sam, then back at the house.
"Yeah?" Dean asked, wondering if Sam had hooked up with Joey.
"What? No..." Sam said indignantly.
"Too bad," Dean said. "She was smokin."
"Dean, she's like 20 years older than me!" Sam turned exasperated.
"Yeah, and?" Dean asked.
They had a brief stare down. It ended in a stalemate.
******
Lush Coastal Rainforests of Central South Dakota.
Castiel was flipping through one of Bobby's books on angelic symbolism. He seemed to be looking for something in particular but gave Bobby only vague information about what. Bobby was across his den, sitting at his desk with his hand balled up in front of his face. Mentally stopping him from speaking or interrupting. There was an angel in his den. And though Dean and Sam had seemed comfortable with this being Bobby was still coming to terms with the fact that angels had been roaming the Earth, and supposedly watching over them. He was slightly suspicious. The angel never made a disturbing move. Castiel never slept but Bobby was growing exhausted.
Having reached the end of the book, Castiel snapped the spine shut and grabbed the next one. He flipped through with determination. About halfway through a page caught his eye. His blues became fixated and then rapidly moved across the page, reading each line and referencing back and forth from the right page to the left. He picked the book up and met Bobby's eyes across the room.
Bobby watched the angel approach him, leaning back in his chair to appear nonchalant.
"You've been tracking the angel vessel deaths?" Castiel asked.
"Most of 'em," Bobby said, nodding.
"Did anyone report seeing this symbol near the bodies?" Castiel held up the book as he asked. On the right page was a sigil. Most sigils had multiple Enochian letters within but this one had a single one repeated at four points, with a six-pointed star in the middle. "It means fire," Castiel explained.
Bobby thought for a minute. He got up and motioned for Castiel to follow him into the kitchen. Once there he shuffled through the disorganized pile of papers on the table before he got to the proper folder. Inside were crime scene photos.
"This is from Cheyenne -- Dean gave it to me. They found a sigil on the side of the house," Bobby said, showing Castiel. A quick look confirmed it was the same one.
"You recognize it?" Bobby asked. Castiel nodded silently. "What's it do?"
"It calls angels to that location," Cas explained. "It's a beacon set specifically by one angel to call the others. Any angel that answered this was doomed." Castiel looked distracted suddenly. As though he was listening to something outside.
"You wanna explain yourself a bit better there, Babbitt?" Bobby cracked, trying to pull some more information out the angel.
"We need to call Dean and Sam," Castiel said. "They need to know this as soon as possible."
******
Heading west on I-70.
Day of.
The Chevelle roared through one mile after another. The boys had tried calling Bobby but neither of them was getting through. Unsure what to do without Castiel or their friend's guidance, they were headed west to Goodland where Cas had mentioned demons gathering. There were intermittent rain showers along the way and a nasty wind was tailing them. Every once in awhile a gust would push the car sideways.
Sam, trying to kill time in the passenger's seat, was inspecting the knife Joey had turned over to them. There were no carvings in the blade like Ruby's knife. There was little that looked special about it aside from a pearl handle that was not unlike the one on Dean's gun. The blade had a slight curve to it. It reminded Sam of a sickle. Apropos for killing a part demon, part angel. He put the knife in the glove compartment for safe keeping.
It was raining harder, and Dean squinted to see the road ahead. With no lights on the highway the bright white lane markers were his only clue. A car suddenly swerved in front of the Chevelle. Dean cut the wheel sharply, sending the boys into a skid. Sam grabbed onto the door frame for support as Dean turned into the skid and tried to right the car. They went off the road as the rear-wheel drive finally caught. Dean's knuckles were pure white as he settled the car back to a straight line, guided it to a stop and then put it in park. He exhaled deeply. Sam, wide-eyed, released the door frame.
They both got out and tried to find the car that had set them askew. The highway was mostly empty. Every so often a truck sped by. They were quickly soaked.
"What the hell was that?" Dean wondered out loud.
"Scared local?" Sam supposed.
They heard it before they saw it. The constant horn of an 18-wheeler. Rumbling engines as the headlights appeared first. Even in the night haze the boys could tell it was out of control. As it careened closer it drifted right, first towards the shoulder and then off the road. It was barreling straight towards them.
They ran back to the Chevelle and jumped in. Dean fired the car up and peeled away to escape the truck. He was driving as much in his rearview as he was through the windshield.
"Dean!" Sam said suddenly. Ahead of them was a roadblock of cars in a multi-vehicle pileup.
"This must be our exit," Dean cracked.
He guided the Chevelle off the highway. They watched as the truck went blazing past. It swerved violently to avoid the pile-up, ending up on the frontage road next to the highway. Sam and Dean exchanged looks. At least it hadn't hit them.
The brothers made it to Goodland -- or what was left of it. The entire town and the surrounding 50 miles sat under a dark grey plume. Some nasty electrical storms set in around them, lighting up the black sky with crackles of white every so often. The town looked like it had been leveled by a tornado. Sam and Dean knew better. There was no one left in the town. As they drove along E. 8th St they looked for any signs of life. Sam tapped Dean on the shoulder. One building had a deadly familiar word on it: Croatoan. They passed by the courthouse with an old bronze statue in front. Two early settles. Then the library and another statue. A mother reading to her kids. The woman was holding one of her children tightly. Sam wasn't sure if he was projecting his own fear, but the statue seemed scared. Better it than him.
"What've we got in this place?" Dean asked.
Sam took out his map. "Uh, there's an airstrip north of here and a cemetery not too far away from that." Sam scanned the map for any other locations where demons might be hiding out. "Take a right here."
They drove up one of the town avenues, passing by a medical center, then a church, and finally pulling up to a funeral home. A funeral home with way too many lights on.
"Yahtzee," Dean said, driving by the building and parking around the corner.
He and Sam jumped out of the car and started loading up weapons from the back.
Sam took their new knife out. "Who carries this thing?" He asked his older brother to make the call.
Dean looked at it, and then at Sam. "I got my hands full," Dean said by way of excuse.
The move wasn't lost on Sam. "I got your back," Sam responded. He grabbed a shotgun from the trunk and loaded it with rock salt.
Dean grabbed another for himself, and made sure both Ruby's knife and the angel-killing blade were within arm's reach.
The brothers used trees as cover to make their way closer to the building. They made it to the building's dark brick facade, and planted themselves on either side of a window. Sam could just barely see in on his tiptoes. Dean silently agreed to be the watchman.
Inside, two men were standing over a table arguing. One had a plaid Carhartt-style jacket on and the other had a heavy bomber-style jacket on. There was a third man off to the side in jeans and a roughneck button-up, and a small batch of people with their backs to Sam. He could only hear muffles through the window. The men at the table grew angrier with each other, and the one in the Carhartt jacket smacked something off the table entirely. The other man held his hand up and sent the first flying back against the wall. Sam watched as the man twisted his fist and prepared for the worst. But the third man stepped forward, spreading his arms out, and the first two both fell to the ground.
Sam ducked back down. "There are definitely demons in there," he said to Dean. "I'm guessing all of them. About 10 total."
"Anyone familiar?" Dean asked from the ground.
"Not sure," Sam said. "From what Cas said one of them might be Ipos, right?"
Dean nodded. He scanned the building for an entrance. He saw a light on the corner. He poked Sam. "I think we can get in over there."
They mantled the building, sidestepping their way to the corner. Dean peeked around first -- the coast was clear. He and Sam stepped around to the back door next to the garage, which was of course locked. They couldn't pick it. The garage door would be too noisy. There was only one option. They stepped back, and Dean quickly shot the lock off. The shotgun was loud and they feared raising alarm. After waiting for a minute and no enemies coming after them, they decided they were good to go in.
The back door opened to steps up or down. The action was upstairs so Dean and Sam headed up. They pointed their guns down hallways and into rooms that they passed. One of the parlors had a casket set up in it, and two or three corpses lay slain on the floor while blood splatters lined the walls. As they continued down, one of the 'corpses' got up and followed them. When it was close enough to Sam, it jumped onto his back to pull him down.
Sam felt the demon's arm around his neck and shoulders, and grabbed at its hands to try to knock it off. "Ah, Dean!" he called, struggling.
Unable to shake it off, Sam turned and smacked himself into a wall back-first to knock the demon off instead. The woman let go of him and slid down to the floor. Dean shot it with rock salt, and it roared in pain. Another demon appeared behind Dean and kicked him forward, sending both Dean and the gun flying. Sam leapt over his brother and punched the demon square in the face. It grabbed the shotgun Dean had been using and slammed the butt into Sam's chest. Dean, still on the ground, grabbed Ruby's Knife from his jacket and stabbed the demon in the back of the leg. It cried out in pain and fell over. Dean pulled the knife back out and got to his feet.
The female demon took a swing at Dean, landing a hook right in his jaw. He staggered back and then punched back, landing a shot right in the demon's gut. Sam elbowed the other demon viciously, and both demons ended up on the ground in a pile. Dean and Sam retook their guns and aimed them squarely at the attackers.
"Where are the others?" Dean asked, shoving his gun towards the male demon's face.
"Gone," it replied, leaning away from the gun. Dean looked back to Sam, who shrugged in return.
"Where did they go?" Dean tried again.
"You can't stop them," the demon said. "It's done. Semiazas walks the Earth. He has an army of fallen angels ready."
Dean leaned in to get into the demon's face. "We have a few tricks up our sleeves."
They had a short stare down. Then the demon seemed to decide it wasn't worth the risk and evacuated its meatsuit. The other demon quickly followed. The Winchesters decided to check out the rest of the building just in case any stragglers were still there. They made their way down the hallway, checking rooms as they went. The room Sam had peered into before was empty. They headed in.
On the table was a map, not unlike the one Bobby had made on his kitchen table. This map had x's over Goodland; North Platte, Nebraska; and Ankeny, Iowa. There were two lines connecting the three cities, intersecting at McCook, Nebraska.
"Mean anything to you?" Sam asked.
"Not a damn thing," Dean said, frowning. "But this route east? It hits five spots where vessels have been killed -- Kearney, Grand Island, Lincoln, Omaha, Des Moines."
"Want to bet this line north and south does too?" Sam hypothesized.
"Actually," said a voice behind them, "the endpoints mark gates to Hell."
Sam and Dean wheeled around to face the voice. It was the second man, the one in the bomber.
"Just relax boys, I'm not here to hurt you," the man said. "Still, just for safety..." He waved his hand. Dean and Sam's guns went flying.
"Who are you?" Dean asked.
"My name is Nathaniel," he said. "I'm an angel. And you're Dean Winchester. And that's Sam."
"An angel, huh? We don't have the best track record with you guys," Dean said through gritted teeth.
"I'll try to keep that in mind," Nathaniel said, as one of the lamps in the room flashed brighter to show the silhouette of his wings as proof.
"What happened to the demons that were in here?" Sam asked.
"They left," Nathaniel said. "They're headed to the cemetery to open one of the gates."
"And you just let them go," Dean raged. His suspicions rose.
"I was sent here to negotiate the same return of my brothers and sisters," the angel said. "But it didn't work."
"Those demons – one of them was Ipos, wasn't it?" Sam saw Nathaniel nod in response to his question.
"You two seem...odd," Nathaniel noted. "You're not of this time. How did you get here?"
"An angel pulled us back," Dean answered cautiously.
Nathaniel's eyes danced as he decided who it could be. "Castiel is the one assigned to you. Was it him? Is he here?"
"No," Dean replied. "Not here."
Nathaniel nodded slowly. "Too bad," he said. "We could use his help."
Sam eyed the angel closely. "Those demons are killing off every angel they find. Why'd they leave you alive?"
"Because they think I know something. They lost a vessel and they think I know where she is." Nathaniel turned away from them.
"Who?" Dean asked, though he already had an idea what the answer was.
"Alexis Parker." Nathaniel said, still turned away. "They say her angel, Raziel, is the only one who knows how to kill Lucifer once and for all. Semiazas knows Lucifer is trying to rise. He doesn't want to be under someone else's thumb, especially not someone who's trying to end the world entirely. Raziel is hiding. Alexis is the one who can pull her back. Ipos mentioned seeing her with you, Dean. Do you know where she is?"
"I have no idea," Dean answered, honestly for once.
"Sam, I don't suppose you know either," Nathaniel said, turning back to them. Sam shook his head no. "That's too bad. It makes you expendable."
He reached into his coat, and Dean quickly grabbed the angel-killing blade from inside his jacket. He held it towards the angel.
"Relax, Dean," Nathaniel said, showing Dean the pen he had reached for. "If you were meant to be dead it would have happened." He wrote something on a piece of paper and handed it to Dean. "If you change your mind about knowing anything, won't you give this Sheriff's deputy I'm in a call?"
Dean looked at the paper. It was a phone number.
"Now, on your way, boys," the angel said, and tapped both Dean and Sam on the forehead. In an instant, they were back outside.
"That guy was about as warm and fuzzy as a prison guard," Dean said.
Sam nodded in agreement.
Dean tried calling Castiel and Bobby but couldn't get through. "Phones are still down," he noted to his brother.
"Cemetery?" Sam asked, though he already knew the answer.
"Hope you brought your special setup-detecting EMF," Dean cracked by way of an answer.
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