Cas's Logical Sequel, Chapter 09
A/N: So I haven't updated in exactly a year... Happy Anniversary? I stopped watching SPN for a while, and now I'm watching it again, so I think the bunnies have returned. I really, really want to finish this, and I only have a 12-chapter plan, so I'm optimistic.
Warnings: The rest of the chapters, except the last one, will end on rather unpleasant cliffhangers. Sorry. (Not sorry :P)
August 11, 2012
The Empire Strikes Back played on the television. Gabriel and Castiel watched it intently while Sam tried not to add his own running commentary. Things had gotten tame in the waning days of Dean's first pregnancy. It had only been about a week, but the group had gotten quite settled into the new "Winchester Estate," as Gabriel had dubbed it. Dean was mostly bedridden, thanks to his condition, and no one wanted to leave him alone in the house, so whenever he slept, Sam, Gabe, and Castiel would just hang out in the living room.
There was a rustle outside the house. Cas was instantly on edge. "Did you hear that sound?" he asked the other two.
"We're surrounded by woods," Sam pointed out nonchalantly. "It was probably an animal."
"Probably," Cas agreed. He stared toward the front of the house a moment longer, then stood abruptly. "I'm going to make sure."
Sam and Gabe shrugged and continued watching Star Wars.
Castiel hurried outside to investigate the sound. He wasn't out there ten seconds before Sam and Gabriel saw a familiar flash of light light up the house from the front windows. Instantly, they were on their feet.
"Cas?" Sam called out, hoping to hear the Angel's gravelly voice. Nothing. He tried again. "Cas, are you okay?" Still lacking a response, Sam flipped the lid off the coffee table and armed himself with a semi-automatic shotgun and a machete. Then he called Bobby on his cell phone.
"Yeah?" the older hunter answered.
"Hey, we need you to get over here. Something's wrong."
"On my way."
"Hurry." Sam hung up the phone and stuck it back in his pocket. He cocked the shotgun and took a step toward the door. "Stay back, babe."
Gabriel scoffed. "Aw, that's cute. No."
Sam stopped in his tracks, Gabriel at his side. "Hey, I don't know what's going on here, but something's happened to Cas, and if it can happen to him, it can happen to you."
"So you want me to let you handle who-knows-what kinda crap by yourself so they can't send me away and make you handle who-knows-what kinda crap by yourself? Do you see the flaw in your plan?"
"I want you to go protect Dean!" Sam shouted, pointing towards the stairs.
There was an ominous scuffling noise at the door.
"I'm not leaving you," Gabriel insisted, as if Sam were being a complete idiot.
Sam pulled Gabriel close and kissed him hard on the lips. Then, he rested his forehead against Gabriel's and turn the puppy eyes on full blast. "Please," he begged pitifully, his concern for Dean making him tear up.
Gabriel tried to resist, but the moment he crumbled was written all over his face. "I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to you."
"You wouldn't go on a murderous, vengeful rampage that leveled half the time zone?"
"Well, yeah. I meant after that." Gabriel rose on his tip toes to give Sam a chaste, lingering kiss.
The front door noisily flung open mid-kiss, and Gabriel dissolved in Sam's arms. Sam looked at the intruders and saw the bloody Enochian sigil smeared on the door. He raced to defend the bottom of the staircase. "Dean!" he bellowed at the top of his lungs. "We've got company!" He raised his shotgun and shot one of the intruders. Then he shot the intruder next to him. He stood his ground well, hitting every target square in the chest, until he ran out of ammunition four rounds later. By then, the first man he'd shot was getting up.
Vampires. Six of them, so far.
Sam flipped the shotgun around in his left hand to use as a club, and raised the machete with his right. The first vampire he'd shot came at him again, and Sam was ready for him. Sam distracted him with the shotgun-club, then lopped his head off in one swift slice. There was an outraged cry from the other vampires. One down, five to go.
Two vampires attacked him at once this time. He could handle two vampires at once, but after killing one of them, he had to sidestep to his left in order to avoid injury from the other. Unfortunately, he ended up at the top of the basement stairs, and as soon as he planted his feet, he was hit dead center with a chair that one of the remaining vampires had thrown. He tumbled down the basement stairs, losing his weapons on the way.
Dizzy and disoriented, he was dragged to his feet and thrown somewhere dark, breaking his nose on the hard ceramic floor. It was the bathroom just next to the foot of the staircase: the windowless bathroom. He clambered unsteadily to his feet, blinking back tears of pain, and tried the doorknob. It wouldn't turn. His heart sank to his stomach. They'd locked him in. He jiggled and yanked on the knob hysterically for a few long seconds. When it wouldn't budge, he slammed his shoulder against the door. He knew breaking it open would be a challenge since the door opened inward and the entire house was built to survive... well, anything. "Dean!" he yelled, hoping that, with a little warning, Dean might be able to hold them off long enough for him to break out of the bathroom or for Bobby to get there or Castiel to return.
A boom startled Sam. It was Dean's gun.
He started throwing his entire body at the door.
Dean was startled awake by something. He wasn't sure what at first, but then he heard Sam yell, "We've got company!" followed by a shotgun blast. Dean pulled his Colt 1911 from underneath his pillow and sat up against the headboard, then waited. A couple of noisy moments passed. Sam screamed for him again, and the shit hit the fan.
Four vampires poured into the room. Crap. Dean wasn't prepared to kill vampires. Even if he had a sword or large knife, he was hardly in the condition to wield it. He shot at them with his trusty .45, but even the perfect headshots wouldn't decapitate the bastards. That was no reason not to fight back. He emptied the gun of all but the last bullet. The vampires were still keeping their distance a little, as a point-blank shot to the head could potentially blow up their heads. He aimed the gun at each of them in turn, hoping to keep them back long enough for backup to arrive.
Three young women entered the room. The oldest had a sociopathic little smirk on her pretty face. "You can put the gun down, Dean. There's no way you can kill us all with one bullet."
Dean pointed the gun at her. She was no vampire. "Maybe not, but I can kill you."
She laughed. "True. But then you'd be completely defenseless in a roomful of vampires. I, on the other hand can control them. It's time, Dean. Feel free to surrender."
Say what you will about his pride, Dean wasn't a stupid man. He counted the vampires and witches intruding his home, thought about his bedridden state and the fact that all these enemies had to make it past his brother and two Angels to get this far. He knew the math. "Fine. I can let you live. On one condition."
Dean took a deep breath, struggling to maintain his mask of resolve. He locked eyes with the witch over the barrel of his handgun. "Don't hurt my daughter." He'd said that a dozen times about Sammy; funny how history had a way of repeating itself.
The witch cocked her head and smiled wryly. "I'm afraid I can't make that promise."
Dean scowled with rage and gripped the gun tighter, his finger nipping at the trigger. Odds be damned, if he and his child were doomed to the beyond, he'd send this bitch there first.
She raised her hands in placation. "However," she added quickly to stave off her own death, "surrender now and she'll live. Or you can pull the trigger and watch my colleagues devour her while you slowly bleed to death. Your choice."
Sam's desperate calls to him echoed through the house as he considered his options. If the witches were so keen on kidnapping him whole, that meant they needed his or Samantha for something, probably a spell. That meant the vampires weren't allowed to touch them. But if he killed the witch, Dean and Samantha became expendable, which meant that, yes, the vampires would probably eat both of them. At this point, Dean couldn't stop that from happening, and he knew it. There was only one thing to do. He fought a wave of nausea as he dropped his gun on the bed and raised his hands in surrender. He took deep, steady breaths to calm himself.
A vampire confiscated his gun as the younger witches set up candles and various other witchcraft-related miscellany he didn't recognize on both end tables. "Here," the lead witch offered, tossing his phone to him, "say goodbye to Sam. What? I'm not evil."
Dean pressed seven and send to speed-dial Sam. It didn't even ring before his brother picked up.
"Dean, are you okay?"
"No. No, I, uh... I don't have all day, I just... I need you to take care of Cas for me, alright? He won't understand."
"I'll find you, Dean. I'll find you, and I'll save you."
"I know," Dean lied. "Sam, I-"
The witch snatched the phone out of Dean's hands and hung it up. "That's enough of that."
Everyone could hear with crystal clarity the string of curses and gruesome threats Sam was shouting from the basement. Dean let one of the vampires tie his wrists together and pull them over his head to the top of the headboard. "You know he'll make good on every one of his threats. You can still just leave."
The witch laughed. "Oh, I'm sure he means every word. And I'm leaving, but I'm taking you with me." The intruders crowded close to the bed as the witches chanted something in Latin.
Dean took a deep breath, bracing himself for the worst.
Sam didn't know how many minutes had passed while he screamed and tried to break the door down. It couldn't have been that many, but his voice was already starting to go, and his arm might have already been black and blue. Finally, there was a scraping sound outside the door. Sam barely had the chance to recognize Bobby before scaling both flights of stairs four stairs at a time. He ignored Bobby calling after him.
He screeched to a halt just inside Dean and Cas's bedroom door, narrowly avoiding crashing into the door frame, but Dean wasn't there. Neither was his bed.
In its place stood Castiel, desolately staring at the floor where it should have been and struggling to choke down sobs. Cas turned to look at Sam, tears making his eyes shine like stars. "It's too late," he sniffled pitifully. "He's gone. They took him."