Summary: 9x04 Tag – Come Darkness, Come Light 'verse – Ezekiel stared back, his usual blue eyes glowing yellow in the darkness. Dean's heart pounded in his chest, vaguely wondering if this was a dream as he immediately stood and lunged at the angel, slamming him back into the opposite wall.

Disclaimer: Not mine

Warnings: Spoilers for season nine and usual language

A/N: I was originally uninspired by this episode. But then this happened...


So then I took my time. Oh, what a thing to have done. And it was all yellow. ~ Coldplay


Dean startled awake, immediately aware that something, someone was in his room...and was standing right beside his bed. Was staring at his quilt-covered back and patiently waiting for him to realize its presence and roll over.

But Dean didn't move.

Instead laying there on his side, staring at the wall in the darkness and listening as whatever breathed behind him.

Dean swallowed, suddenly sensing the angel inside of his brother but hesitant to call out Zeke's name.

He had already made that mistake once today.

And he couldn't chance doing so again, not with Sam already asking unwanted questions.

Who's Zeke?

Dean often wondered the same, hoping the angel was the good guy he claimed to be even as Dean was plagued by worry and doubt.

"I know you are awake."

Dean blinked at the familiar voice – Sam's – and the equally familiar tone – Zeke's.

"And we need to talk," the angel continued. "For there has been a change..."

Dean frowned in concern at the announcement.

"Fine. But you know this is creepy, right?" he grumbled, releasing his hold on the knife he had been gripping beneath his pillow and pushing the blankets aside as he sat up. "You watching me while I sleep..."

Dean's words faded as he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stared up at his brother.

Ezekiel stared back, his usual blue eyes glowing yellow in the darkness.

Dean's heart pounded in his chest, vaguely wondering if this was a dream as he immediately stood and lunged at the angel, slamming him back into the opposite wall.

"Get out of my brother, you yellow-eyed sonuvabitch!"

Ezekiel blinked at Dean with Sam's eyes still glowing an eerie yellow.

"I am not Azazel," the angel calmly denied, flexing Sam's neck as Dean's arm roughly pressed against his throat.

"Then who the fuck are you?" Dean demanded, rage and fear and panic pulsing through his veins.

Ezekiel shifted beneath Dean's crushing grip, knowing Sam's neck and shoulders would bruise from the harsh treatment.

Yet one more thing to heal...

"Who the fuck are you?" Dean repeated, grounding out each word with a clenched jaw as he pressed even harder against his brother's neck.

Ezekiel sighed, the sound wheezed from Sam's abused throat. "I am who I say I am," he assured.

Dean snorted at the obvious lie as the angel's – or whatever's – yellow eyes continued to glow at him in the darkness. "Try again," he growled, inches from Sam's face. "I only look stupid."

Ezekiel shook Sam's head, his hair scraping over the brick; his chin rubbing over Dean's arm. "I am being truthful," he replied. "Though a deceitful heart will only see deceit in others."

"I only see yellow eyes," Dean sharply countered in response to the paraphrased Scripture. "You got a verse to explain that, you sanctimonious asshole?"

"Yes," Ezekiel answered and swallowed with difficulty, once again flexing Sam's head to ease the pressure on his neck caused by Dean's unrelenting grip. "Not a verse..." he corrected. "...but an explanation."

Dean arched a suspicious eyebrow. "I'm listening."

Ezekiel sighed. "It is a residual effect of the Wicked Witch's possession," he explained. "Her green with my blue produces the yellow you are seeing now."

"Bullshit," Dean barked, his arm still pressed against Sam's neck. "Blue and green don't make yellow." He paused. "Remember, I only look stupid."

"Do not say that again," Ezekiel ordered, frowning with Sam's face. "It upsets your brother when you make such critical comments about yourself. And you causing him further distress will not be tolerated."

It was Dean's turn to frown.

"What?"

"The topic does not warrant further discussion," Ezekiel replied. "But you would be wise to measure your words before you say them...and to not openly call my name when your brother is still conscious and listening."

Dean cringed at the reminder. "Yeah. I got that," he drawled and then increased the pressure against Sam's neck. "But what I don't have is a bullshit-free reason for why your eyes – Sam's eyes – are glowing yellow."

"I have already told you," Ezekiel responded, his tone calm even as he darkened Sam's expression. "It is a supernatural effect caused by the melding of two supernatural beings inside of a mortal. And while it will gradually dissipate, it should serve as a reminder of why you must protect your brother more vigilantly than you have been doing as of late."

Dean felt the barb of guilt pierce his heart as the angel's words struck even as his suspicions remained.

Because how did he know that Ezekiel was telling him the truth?

How did he know that these yellow eyes were indeed just an effect of the witch's earlier possession of Sam?

How did he know that Sam wasn't in danger from something Dean had allowed to happen?

Ezekiel held Dean's gaze, sensing his doubts. "Believe what you wish. But I will not speak of this again," he informed, easily twisting from Dean's grip and shoving Sam's brother away.

Dean stumbled backwards before regaining his balance, watching as the angel rubbed the inflamed skin around Sam's neck.

Dean blinked at the realization that while his anger had been directed at Ezekiel, it was Sam that he had been hurting.

The big brother swallowed.

"Is he okay?"

Ezekiel cut his yellow eyes at Dean as he continued to lightly palpate Sam's throat. "The area is sore and bruised and slightly swollen," the angel reported. "But I will heal the damage before Sam wakes. He will not remember this encounter."

Dean snorted. "Of course he won't..."

Ezekiel narrowed Sam's eyes. "Would you rather he remember and ask more questions?"

"No," Dean blurted and shook his head. "I almost had a fucking heart attack this afternoon when he asked who you were."

"It was a close call," Ezekiel agreed. "But I am only able to erase that of which Sam is not consciously aware. As demonstrated today, if he hears you call my name, he will remember. And he will research even more than he already has..."

Dean arched an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"Your brother is intelligent," Ezekiel reminded, staring at Dean from behind Sam's eyes. "Although I am doing my best to remain undetected, he has been possessed by many supernatural entities in the past and knows how it feels. He is sensing that something is different within. And after today, he has started researching my name."

Ezekiel paused, allowing Dean to absorb that information, to remember how Sam had spent hours after dinner staring at his laptop screen.

"Oh god..." Dean sighed and shook his head. "Shit..."

Ezekiel nodded. "I do not have to tell you that it is only a matter of time before your brother discovers the truth," the angel pointed out, that fact more ironic as he used Sam's mouth to say it. "A day of reckoning is coming. The longer you wait, the worse it will be."

Dean swallowed at the prediction. "I know. But how the hell am I supposed to tell him?"

"That is for you to decide," Ezekiel replied. "I have my own agenda."

Dean tilted his head at the angel's choice of words. "Meaning?"

Ezekiel blinked back at him with Sam's eyes, seeming startled by his uncharacteristic slip of tongue.

"Meaning..." The angel paused, choosing his words more carefully. "I need to complete my healing of your brother before he identifies my presence and ejects me. Though as I have told you, the healing process becomes more difficult and time-consuming whenever I use my powers to instead heal someone else..."

The angel stared meaningfully at Dean, his yellow eyes seeming to glow more intensely.

"I know," Dean replied, recalling the angel's miraculous healing and resurrection of Castiel and Charlie. "And I'm sorry, but – "

" – you will be," Ezekiel agreed about Dean's impending remorse. "You will be consumed by unknown sorrow for the consequences of your actions. But apologies often do not mend what is broken. They are words and nothing more."

Dean accepted the words like a punch to the stomach.

Because he knew the reality of that truth.

How many times over the years had Sam apologized to him...and it had fixed nothing.

Dean sighed.

There was a beat of silence.

Ezekiel's eyes still glowed yellow in the darkness of Dean's bedroom.

"What should I do?"

"Whatever you wish," Ezekiel answered, continuing to animate a sleeping Sam. "For you have proven that is what you will ultimately do – whatever you wish...regardless of its effects on your brother. I only emphasize that you refrain from asking me to heal others in the future and that you be more vigilant in protecting Sam from outside forces. That is, after all, your job...not mine. You would do well to remember your role."

Dean glared at the angel's scolding. "And what is your role?"

"I am that I am," Ezekiel responded smoothly, smiling with Sam's mouth as he paraphrased a verse from Exodus 3.

Dean pulled a face. "What the hell does that mean?"

Ezekiel shook Sam's head, dodging the question and freshly thankful that Dean was not as familiar with the Bible as with other books.

"You will know soon enough," the angel informed. "But in the meantime, I am that I am..." he repeated cryptically and turned, taking Sam back to his room.

Dean watched him go, his stomach twisting with dread and renewed worry over the situation he had gotten his little brother into.

Over the situation he had gotten them both into.


FIN