Title: The Curse of Bittersweet Kisses
Chapter 21
Notes: The Bible verse is from the New Living Translation version.

~~~~~~~~~~

Jody Mills sat at Bobby’s bedside mainly because she had nowhere else to go. There was no one to see and nothing to do and at least she could keep the CoC vultures from sitting there waiting to pounce the second he woke from surgery.

When he did wake, he peered at her with groggy confusion. “Sheriff?”

“It’s just Jody now, Bobby. I’m no longer Sheriff.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Came to visit a friend in the hospital.”

“And came in to see me on your way?”

She smiled and gently patted his hand. “You’re the friend.”

“Nice to know. You’re not Sheriff anymore? When did that happen?”

“No, I’m not. It was yesterday now.” There had been a wait to get him in to the operating room and she’d wondered if the wait would be detrimental to his health. The doctor and nurses had reassured her the damage was already done, but Jody’s cynical side was getting quite a workout lately. She didn’t believe them, not with Bobby’s current state.

“What happened?”

“To me or you?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I got fired,” she explained with a glance at the open door. “Let me close that.” When it was closed and she was back beside him, she went on. “I sort of knew it was coming. I wouldn’t do some things the church wanted and since there’s little support for anyone not pro-Castiel, I got the shaft. The interim Sheriff is a big Castiel supporter, gives a lot to the church.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Thanks. I think you and I may be the only sorry ones about it. I’m not sure what happened to you, though. Looked to me like someone forced their way in and beat you.”

He swallowed, sighed, and laid his head back. “Church members. They shattered the outside lights and got in while I was reaching for my gun. They were fast bastards. Sam and Dean had left a few hours earlier. Guess the meeting I had with Connie got around and the church was impatient.” He raised his head up a little, looking down his body, suspicion and a growing sliver of fear in his eyes. “I can’t feel my legs. Can’t move them.”

What could she say here? The doctor was supposed to be the one to tell him this. “I’ll get your doctor.”

“Why can’t I feel them? Tell me straight.” His hand lashed out, gripping her arm before she could reach the call button.

“Bobby….” Jody didn’t want to be the one to say it.

“Do it.” He released her.

She glanced at his legs. “They damaged something in your back during the attack. It’s why you were in surgery. They tried to repair the damage.”

His eyes squeezed shut, his hands closing into fists. “Damn it! Not again!”

He didn’t want to talk after that and Jody didn’t blame him. She doubted he’d get a second miracle and walk again.

~~~~~~~~~~

Bobby had considered wallowing in self-pity again, it’d certainly be easy to let himself do it, but with Jody needing a friend, Bobby discarded the idea as a whole and engaged in it only when she left the hospital room. He hadn’t told her the entire truth about the attack. Yes, they’d been church members at one point, but they’d also been demons. He’d seen enough of the videos from Castiel’s ‘death’ to recognize the assassins Crowley had sent.

What he wasn’t sure of was why they’d come after him. For fun maybe? Or perhaps to lessen his mobility so they could come back whenever they wanted? Crowley trying to soften him up for another deal? Whatever it was, he’d have to make plans, set up a trap for when they came around next.

He let Jody bully the hospital staff and when she argued that he needed someone to help him at home for awhile and it might as well be her, he’d agreed to let her. It wasn’t that he needed someone to look after him and help him. He’d done the whole wheelchair bound guy bit before by himself. The fact was, Jody needed it. He could see it on her face, that almost lost look in her eyes. She needed someone to look after and something to keep herself busy while she worked through her anger and frustration with being fired.

“Well,” he began, looking over the damage done to his house as she finished bringing in her things. It wasn’t as bad as he’d thought. His attackers had been interested mainly in maiming him, not tearing up the place. The door was the worst. “You can use any of the rooms upstairs you want. I’d recommend the bedroom Ellen was using only because I don’t know what shape Dean and Jo left the master in.”

“I’ll figure it out.” She carried her bag up the stairs and returned a few minutes later. “Where should I start,” she asked, glancing about the room.

“If you’re going to be here helping me, you should have a better idea what we come up against.” Reaching out, he picked up one book and held it out. “Happy reading, Jody.”

“You want me to study ghosts and beasties?” She took the book and glanced down at it. “Bobby. Shouldn’t I get to work on fixing your door?”

“I let my legs get me down once. It won’t happen again. I’m going to need you and that means you need to be prepared. Study up, sister. I got a favor or two I can still call in for manual labor.”

She tried to get him to take it easy, but Bobby couldn’t shake the feeling that they were on borrowed time and something even worse was going to happen.

~~~~~~~~~~

It actually managed to surprise Dean how fast the world went to hell. With Sam on a new drug, but standing, they’d set out to track Castiel. For forty days they followed strange weather patterns and reports of the PD’s, cleaned up messes, and came up against mindless, crazed hosts that had to be put down. The PD’s were all over the place and panic was now more widespread than it had been. In the last two weeks, government organizations began to descend on locations where the PD victims surfaced, quarantining entire towns. No one in, no one out.

The PD’s were scary, genuinely scary, and not just because of what they did to the host body. The things were intelligent and very much like hell demons. One cloud of gray mist seemed to differ from another cloud, again like hell demons. Those weren’t all the same either. He got the impression that the PD’s were testing what they could do, trying out their abilities like children learning new tasks. They were growing up and Dean certainly didn’t want to know what mature PD’s were capable of. But how did they fight them? All the had was silver and they knew that iron did make the mist disperse. He and Sam had tested that out a couple times.

Forty days. It was like some sort of record. The dominoes were beginning to fall, picking up speed.

Tornadoes spread across the Midwest and beyond, triggering an earthquake that hit California, where a chunk of the coastline slid into the ocean. The disasters and weird weather prompted bugs to come out of hibernation and swarm across the country. Lakes dried up only to reappear miles away, flooding whole towns. Religion scholars continued to talk Armageddon and the apocalypse, but since Dean knew the apocalypse had failed, he ignored those reports.

Sam didn’t. He tried to talk about them like it could be possible, only it wasn’t. The cage was closed, with Michael and Lucifer in it. As many locks as there’d been? No way either was getting out, not to mention Lilith was dead. The apocalypse ship had sailed.

Forty days though. He couldn’t believe how much had happened in that short time. Even Lucifer had taken more time than that to start in on the world. This was all in response to Castiel, though. He was causing it, whether directly or indirectly. Dean supposed they could actually start the countdown back when Castiel had declared himself God, since he’d begun throwing up things not too long after that. Looking at this from that perspective, it had taken months to get to this point, the better part of a year.

They managed to get right behind Castiel, close enough to see him. He no longer disappeared and reappeared miles away. Instead, he walked, a stumbling, half shuffling gate like a Romero zombie. He never stopped walking, nor did he appear to realize he was being followed. He seemed to be in his own little world of hurt.

They were watching him now, parked on the road as Castiel moved across a field. Occasionally he’d stop and puke up gray mist. It was as Jo had described, a whoosh of gray spilling from him, dribbles right now.

Dean’s heart constricted a little at the thought of her. Was she safe? Was she well? While they’d gotten the first message from them with their drop address, there’d been no more messages. Not that he’d expected more. He hadn’t. The next move was his. He dreamed of her at night and of their final hours together, wondering if there’d come a time when he and Sam could send them meeting coordinates. Maybe it wouldn’t be long now. Castiel couldn’t have too much more time left. He appeared half dead already.

Cas stumbled across the field like a drunk, finally falling and lying still. A minute passed, then another, Dean timing it with his watch. The longest they’d waited was five minutes before Castiel had gotten up and continued on. He got up now, nearly fell over, but kept to his feet at the last second. They could hear his pained moans from where they stood on the road. It seemed somehow fitting to Dean that Castiel was going to die right near where he’d raised Dean from hell.

Perhaps hell awaited Castiel.

He stumbled more, heading away from them and this time, they set off after him on foot, right to that area where Sam had once buried Dean. Trees still lay where they’d fallen and the area was oddly untouched, a monument to Dean’s raising. Castiel’s progress slowed until he was standing over the grave itself. The earth was churned up and Dean remembered every second of that agonizing, bewildered crawl from it. He’d been pulled from hell, reborn a new man.

The birds in the trees fell silent. The air felt charged with electricity.

Castiel jerked upright, arms flung out to his sides. With a final agonized cry, a large cloud of gray that seemed more solid than the rest passed from his lips. As it left, lightning struck the spot with a deafening roar, his body glowing for several seconds. White light flared up and died away. He fell backwards, stiff like a board.

They made their way to him.

Dean tried to decide where to start hacking him apart. He could hardly believe the time had come. He’d thought he’d feel some satisfaction in this and was surprised to find that he didn’t. What he felt was sadness. Never in a million years could he have guessed from their first meeting that they’d end up here, with the angel turned into a monster. Taking a step closer, he spread his legs and gripped the machete with both hands. No sense in dragging it out.

Sam’s hand on his arm stalled him. “Dean.”

Castiel gasped for breath, his eyes opening. The anguish and fear quickly displayed in those blue eyes didn’t seem to fit with the Cas they’d come to know in the past months. Both were almost…human. “Please don’t kill me,” he cried out, raising his hands like he could ward off any blow that was forthcoming.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t you former piece of angel crap.”

He stared up at Dean, still gasping. “Angel? I’m Jimmy. Jimmy Novak. Remember?”

Dear God, Dean thought, lowering the machete back down to his side. A chill swept through him. Jimmy’s still alive.

~~~~~~~~~~

He’d been tricked. The Winchesters had tricked Castiel and he’d fallen for it. He wasn’t even really that surprised by it, not in the state he was in. He should have been expecting it.

Ellen hadn’t gone towards Texas and once his emotions had risen up, he’d been unable to control the weather that had moved across the U.S., wreaking havoc from state to state. When he’d returned to Bobby Singer’s house a couple days later, emotions spent and body aching, he’d found an empty house. All were gone. They’d fled and he’d begun to make his way back to Illinois, to the place where he’d raised Dean from hell.

He was called there and he didn’t know why, unable to stop moving towards that spot, needing to be there. His legs continued to move though he’d long since ceased to be able to feel anything but the cramping pains in them. He moved despite the searing in his gut and the throbbing in his temples, leaving behind a rash of storms in his wake. His vision narrowed until all he could see was the end.

Dean Winchester’s former grave.

It was where he had to be.

He reached it and stood over the spot, panting and moaning.

Suddenly, the hand of God touched Castiel and, in an instant, he was fully humbled and shamed, his arrogance and self-serving actions exposed. His pride had been his downfall and he wept because he realized he was the Lucifer of his former class of angel. He was a fallen angel.

Questions slid through his mind, the voice booming. His ears rang from it, mind whirling.

The questions needed no replies as his Father already knew the answers. They were merely prompts for him to look back at everything. He was reminded of everything, taken through it all in a single fraction of a second, from the first moment he’d been able to see, through raising Dean, and beyond.

He was Castiel, an angel, destined to assist Dean Winchester and be a champion for mankind among the angels. He’d hurt Dean and Sam both, let himself be manipulated by a demon, ripped apart natural order by raising Jo and Ellen Harvelle, and taken in souls that were never meant to be used as power. He’d refused the solution of putting them back in Purgatory and kept those souls, setting off a chain reaction that had led them all here. His body had changed those souls, created a new brand of demon.

Castiel was indeed much like Lucifer and he let out an anguished moan.

Judgment came upon him, worse than any physical pain he’d felt thus far. He felt a tearing inside him and was separated from everything he’d considered himself, then shoved back inside the human body by himself. Alone. He was alone. His powers were gone and so was the final remnant of Jimmy Novak that had been there. Only Castiel remained, stuck inside a human body, his connection to everything shredded. A void of nothingness settled inside him where his grace used to be and his shame made him tremble.

When he opened his eyes, he saw Sam and Dean standing over him. Dean’s gaze was as cold as ice. The moment of retribution was at hand for all the things Castiel had done and caused while under the influence of first human corrupted souls, then the monster souls from Purgatory.

No, not completely true. He knew the truth. It had been brought out of him seconds earlier.

A flush spread across his skin. He’d liked that feeling of power he’d never had before and had wanted more. What he’d had hadn’t been enough. He should have walked away and hadn’t. He’d chosen the path that had brought him here. Meg was right. He’d made this bed for himself. It was his decisions and no one else’s. He’d been the catalyst for much that was wrong now.

But he wasn’t ready to die for his crimes, despite fully deserving death. He had to atone for his sins and somehow make up for everything. If he even could. Perhaps he was doomed to spend the rest of his life trying to clean up his mess.

He compounded previous lies with a fresh one, not daring to hope that it’d work. If it did, perhaps someday, somehow, he could tell them the truth and face Death with dignity. Today however…. Today he was a coward and he accepted his own cowardice.

Castiel forced himself to speak in a higher voice and mimic Jimmy Novak’s speech patterns. His answer to Dean brought surprise and disappointment to Dean’s eyes. Castiel hated that Dean was disappointed he didn’t get to kill him.

“Where’s Castiel then,” Dean demanded.

He slowly sat up, rubbing a hand to his chest. There was a foul taste in his mouth, like he’d been drinking raw sewage and he was again reminded that to Dean, he was a monster that needed to be killed. “I can feel him in here, but he’s weak. Powerless.” It was the truth. He was weak and powerless. Castiel stared up at Dean. He wasn’t a good liar and never had been. It was only when he’d taken those souls from Crowley that his skills in that area had increased. Dean was going to see through this. “He’s no longer a threat.”

“And you’re still here.”

“Yes.” He realized he was crying, his face wet with tears. “I’m…I’m here.” He cried for what he’d been and all he’d become and he cried because he needed the very people he’d shoved away in his hubris. A deep discomfort in the vulnerability of his position began to rise up. He needed them and they sure as hell didn’t need him.

I’m human, he thought. I’m really human now.

“Prove you’re Jimmy,” Sam said, crouching down beside him. The words were slightly slurred and Castiel wondered why.

How did he prove that? “My…my wife is Amelia, daughter Claire.” He let a sob escape. “I’ve got to find them!” Castiel added as much panic and fear to his voice as he could. “Do you think they’re okay?”

Apparently, it was enough to satisfy them both. “We’ll see what we can do, right Dean?”

“Sure.”

It was Sam who helped Castiel to his feet. “Sorry, Jimmy.”

He shrugged. “None of this was your fault.” It was true. None of it was Sam’s fault. It had been Castiel’s jealousy of Sam and Castiel’s own actions this entire time. Castiel was the one who’d broken the world and everything in it and Castiel was the one who had to figure out how to atone for his sins and clean up his mess.

“Come on then,” Dean waved him forward. “We need to call Bobby, then….” He broke off and Sam nodded.

“Jo and Ellen.” Sam reached out a hand and steadied Castiel.

“Yeah.”

He caught Dean staring at him with narrowed eyes and took off his coat as an excuse not to look at him. “Who are they?” He was going to have to be careful, to remember what Jimmy had and hadn’t known.

“Friends,” Dean replied.

“Oh.”

He sat in the backseat of the Impala, staring out the window at the world he’d created. A verse from the Bible played again and again in his mind. Proverbs 15:10. Whoever abandons the right path will be severely punished; whoever hates correction will die.

He had abandoned and was punished. Someplace inside him must have a tiny bit of obedience to God left, for he hadn’t been killed in punishment.

But was his punishment far worse than the death he deserved?

Slowly, Castiel closed his eyes. He had no tears left to cry. Only guilt remained.

~~~~~~~~~~

A mob surrounded Bobby Singer’s, a crowd of the more militant and brainwashed of Castiel’s local congregation. It was a sad fact that such an occurrence was starting to be normal in the world. Jody wasn’t sure if it was because the Church of Castiel attracted nutcases who were easily influenced by others or turned people into nutcases. Could be either or both.

The windows began to break and Bobby gestured at the basement. “Will you get your ass down there, Jody?”

“Not without you,” she replied. It was an argument that had been going on for the last five minutes.

“You can’t get me down there before they get in, now go,” he hissed. “I’ll be fine.”

Dean had called earlier, delivering the news of Castiel’s weird punishment. Something in that story Jimmy had given Dean and Sam hadn’t sounded right to Bobby and he’d been trying to figure out what was off, discussing it with her when the mob had arrived, baying for blood. Sam and Dean would be here in a few hours, but they were going to be too late to stop the mob trying to get in to lynch them both.

At first, Jody had come to take care of him and try to make his life easier, but when she’d become wanted by the Church and by Constance for refusing to convert she’d stayed here rather than return home. Bobby was also wanted. Jody wasn’t sure why it was so important to them that everyone in whole world be converted to the CoC. A few times, Bobby had run off trespassers with a shotgun. Those people were back now, with reinforcements. She was surprised they weren’t carrying torches, like something out of an old movie.

“You won’t be fine. They’re going to kill you if they get in. It’s mob mentality. You know that. Don’t be a stubborn bastard, Bobby! I can get you down there,” she told him, “just help me!”

“Damn it, Jody, get in the panic room, lock that door, and wait until Sam and Dean get here.”

The front door began to splinter.

“Go,” he urged. “Don’t make me push you.”

Against her wishes, Jody fled, leaving him there, guns pointed at the door. Hiding went against her own instincts. She locked herself in the panic room and sat with her back against the door and hands over her ears. There were gunshots, plenty of them, and screams. She heard sounds of the house being trashed and waited, sure they’d come banging on the door.

They didn’t. She heard doors slamming and then silence, but she didn’t move until she heard Sam and Dean upstairs, their voices loud in the quiet of the house. Jody opened the panic room door and went up the steps. They had their guns pointed at the doorway when she emerged, quickly lowering them.

“Sheriff,” Dean started. “What happened here? What happened to Bobby? This is fresh.”

Jody shrugged. “What hasn’t happed the past couple months?” She took a few steps forward towards them. She saw Jimmy standing back by Bobby’s body. Bobby was still in the wheelchair, slumped over, body limp. Blood stiffened his shirt and his eyes were open and staring. A lump grew in the back of her throat and she swallowed hard past it. He’d been grilling her on the ways to kill various monsters just that morning, like he’d had to get as much information into her head as possible.

“Talk to us, Sheriff.”

“I’m not Sheriff anymore, Dean. Haven’t been for awhile. It’s just Jody now.” Going to the table, she pulled out a chair and sat. She explained what had happened since they’d left, from the first attack on Bobby that had put him in the hospital to the mob. “I can’t go back home,” Jody added. “There’s nothing for me here anymore. Between the church and those demon things out there….” She sighed. “I’m at a loss for what to do here.”

“None of us can go back,” Jimmy said, a strange, mournful gleam in his eyes. “I’m very sorry, Jody.” Reaching out, he closed Bobby’s eyes.

She looked away. “He saved me, you know. Grouch he was, he saved me, but I couldn’t get him to come down with me. He claimed I couldn’t carry him. Wouldn’t even let me try.”

They gave Bobby a solemn hunter’s funeral, added as many supplies as they could into two cars and left. Sam and Dean in one car and Jody and Jimmy in the other. Jody followed Dean. She wondered if he had any idea where they were going to go. The Church of Castiel was everywhere, Purgatory demons were creeping out all over the place, and the balance of the world appeared to be completely blown away.

Where could they even go that might possibly be safe with the entire world fast falling apart?

~~~~~~~~~~

Something wasn’t right. Dean could feel it.

It wasn’t just losing Bobby that felt wrong, it was…. Honestly, it was Jimmy that felt wrong.

He peered out the motel room window at Jody as she went to her car. She was heading across to the Wal-Mart to get Jimmy some clean clothes and a few food items for all of them. How had Jimmy survived everything that had happened? Dean had thought Jimmy had been released a long time ago and that whole thing about Castiel powerless inside him wasn’t sitting right with him. Had Castiel been condemned to be stuck inside Jimmy until Jimmy died? It didn’t make sense to him. He couldn’t wrap his mind around it.

Sighing, he let the curtain drop and turned back to the room.

A wave of grief for Bobby welled up and he shoved it back. He couldn’t indulge in a wailing and gnashing of teeth, not until he had everyone together again. He’d hold it in until Jo and Ellen were there with them again and they could all mourn properly together. Some part of him recognized that this was his coping method and way of grieving, but he let that realization slip away and focused on Sam.

Sam was stretched out on one bed staring at the tv. He didn’t appear to actually be watching the program.

Dean winced and reached for his phone, dialing a number he now knew by heart. “His speech is slurred,” he said when the doctor answered. “Is that supposed to happen?” He listened a moment. “What about how sleepy he is? He spends half the time staring into space. He can’t drive, that’s for sure. Can hardly do anything.” The answer made him snort. “Well, I think it’s a sucky side effect. Can’t we, I don’t know, try a smaller dosage or something?”

With a languid movement, Sam raised his hand and changed channels.

“No, no hallucinations that he’s said. No trouble sleeping or eating. So far.” The search to find a medication that would help Sam was leaving him with a brother who was barely his brother at all anymore. Dean ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, we can do that. Half dose. Okay. Thanks. I’ll let you know.” He hung up and continued to watch Sam as time passed.

His reaction times were bad, so bad that he was useless on regular hunts and Dean knew it was because of the pills. But the flip side of that coin was that the hallucinations were also bad. If it wasn’t one thing messing them up, it was another. Which side should they choose and where was the middle ground? Was it even worth it?

There was a knock on the door and he looked through the peephole to see Jody and Jimmy standing there. He opened the door. Jimmy was wearing jeans, a t-shirt and a jacket, his hair damp. Both were carrying bags.

Jody was in the middle of talking. “--call in a favor or two and find them. I may not be Sheriff anymore, but I do still know people.”

“They probably changed names,” Jimmy said, not looking at Dean.

“You can’t give up without trying, Jimmy. It’s your wife and daughter.”

Dean stepped back so they could come in. Jody came in first, then Jimmy. He still didn’t look at Dean. “We’ll try, Jody. He’s just a little discouraged right now.”

“Understandable, but we need to move on this. He’s free, sort of, and he can be back with them.”

Sam snorted. “We’re never free. He knows that. Once you’re in, you’re in for life.”

The words were very true. None of them would ever be free.

~~~~~~~~~~

With Castiel missing, Meg gave up being Margaret, left that host, and jumped into Constance. He’d been in such a bad way, she wondered if Dean and Sam had killed him. She decided there was a sure fire way to find out.

She’d use the church to find Ellen and Jo, which would have the Winchester boys running to save them and end with Castiel coming to save Dean. She was certain it’d work, and if it didn’t, she’d simply get rid of them all and continue the search for Castiel.

She carefully locked herself into Constance, much like she once had Sam, left the body of her former host under lock and key, and headed down into the sanctuary to give the televised sermon for the week. It’d be shown in numerous countries, assuring the widest possible audience for the message she had to give them.

“My dear, dear, friends,” she began, using Constance’s favorite way to address the church. “I’ve an important message to give you today. It’s one that has my heart a little heavy, yet hopeful for us all. Castiel has stepped back from us.”

There were gasps among the crowd and she held up a hand.

“No, we felt it might be coming since the most grievous attack on him a couple months ago here in our very own church. He feels he must observe us, decide if we’re worthy of his further attentions. I’ve spoken with him and he’s broken about it, friends. The lack of faith in us even now after he died and resurrected pains him.”

Sobs reached her.

“He’s given us tasks to perform, however, tasks that will show our devotion to him and the measure of our perseverance and love.” She nodded and gestured to the screen at her left, where two pictures appeared. “These two women were seen with him earlier this year. Many of you don’t remember them. Some do. He told me that these two women need an outpouring of our love. He wants us to bring them into the church, to bring them here to Sioux Falls and care for them.” Meg strolled across the stage and stopped at stage right. “I know, can’t he just do it himself?” She shrugged. “He could. He could snap his fingers and they’d be here with us, sharing in our glorious time of worship. But this is our test. They are our mission, friends.” She returned to the podium. “We are to find them, show them the fullest degree of our love.”

The sobs had ceased and she knew she had their attention. So many people easily swayed!

“It won’t be easy. They’re hidden. This task isn’t going to be quick. How would that test our perseverance? It also won’t be easy. They’ll be resistant to coming with any of us, refusing of our affection, and even downright hostile. They’ll fight to remain hidden, but he wants them with us. This is a great task indeed. We’ve been given a commission here. Let’s perform it well and, perhaps he’ll change his mind and be with us again. Let’s show our love to these women. Their names are Jo and Ellen Harvelle.”

They broke for five songs, hymns that had been reworked using Castiel’s name and Meg gathered her thoughts on the next matter at hand. This was the far more serious one, the one she needed them in full cooperation on. With such a huge congregation, it wouldn’t matter if she lost a number of them going about this task.

“Our second task is one that is of grave importance. It cannot be entered into with any humor.” She waited while the background music changed and lifted her chin. “There are demons among us, friends, and I don’t speak of mystical things. I speak of the very real demons slipping from hell to walk among us.”

Gasps and murmurs rose up in the audience.

“Yes, demons. You heard me right. It seems impossible, I know, but they’re real and they’re here to hurt us, hunt us, and kill us. They can take over anyone. Family, friends, colleagues. They’re a real danger and it’s up to us to do something about them.” She couldn’t wait to see how long before Crowley realized she was a danger to him once more. How long before he got worried and came crawling to make a deal? “Other churches have been lax, letting their numbers on this earth grow until we’re in a crisis situation. I…we, as the church, need volunteers for very specialized training into dealing with the threat. We’re heading into war, friends. Castiel needs you. There will be a link on the website for those interested and, of course, our phone lines are always open.”

She went on, slipping into the sermon Constance had planned and when she returned to the office, she was pleased with how it had gone, so pleased that she didn’t notice her former host was no longer sprawled on the floor until the girl was gripping her throat and shoving her against the wall.

“Where is he,” came a guttural voice that sounded like it came from the girl’s belly and not her throat.

She was changed, but not as terribly as others had been. Her skin had paled and the veins did stand out slightly, but not like pictures Meg had seen. This thing in her had not made the girl into as much of a monster as others. She was almost still human. How? Was this one different from the rest? It stood to reason that not all of them were the same because not all demons were the same. Meg pried at the fingers on her throat until the grip lessened. “I don’t know,” she whispered.

“Liar. You said you’ve talked to him.”

“I haven’t. He disappeared.”

The creature dropped her and stepped back. “We want him back.”

“Back.” What did it mean ‘back’?

“Our father. Castiel. We want him back.”

Interesting. They called him father the way demons called Lucifer father. “Why?”

It paced slowly in front of her. “He pulled us forth, changed us, released us, and left us. Some of us he killed, but he left us without giving us a purpose. We, as a whole, ache to be back with him. We’re not what we remember ourselves to be. We can’t be what we were and we were wrong to flee from him. We need him to be one with us again and give us direction.”

Meg almost smiled. It was lying to her, giving her a story and trying to manipulate her. Whatever it wanted Castiel for, it wasn’t because they needed him. They may want him, but they didn’t need him. Still….

A fresh plan swirled through her mind. The world could be really hers. Her plan before had been to return every demon but herself to hell, making her the ruler of earth and seriously putting a dent in Crowley’s work, but now she had a different plan forming. With these creatures on her side, she could eventually storm hell and rule there as well. She’d mobilize them as her own private army, the army Crowley denied her. A demon was a demon was a demon, right?

With them backing her, she’d be able to wage an actual war. How sweet it would be to topple him from power! She’d have quite the kingdom if she promised to help these creatures. Earth and hell both. Besides, if her plan worked, Ellen and Jo would lead to Sam and Dean who would lead to Castiel anyway. “I have a proposition for you, one that could be very advantageous for us both. I can help you.”

“Why should I believe you’ll help? I can see you’re a demon. I remember demons.”

“As are you now. Hate to break it to you, darling, but you’re a demon, too. Look in the mirror. Purgatory demon. We’re cousins of a sort. Purgatory is the monster’s hell and a stones throw from human hell. Besides, family should mean something. Don’t you agree…cousin?” She’d spend their time together working out their vulnerabilities and when she was done with them, she’d let it slip to the world how to destroy them. Perhaps when hell was hers again and she had her real subjects once more, she’d send her demons after them. It was risky, but she was willing to work with it.

The creature cocked it’s head. “I’m listening.”

“Are you familiar with the term ‘you scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours’?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” Meg smiled. “Let’s deal.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Hundreds of miles away, Jo Harvelle sat on one motel room bed, her arms about her raised knees and cheek resting against them. She rocked a little, ignoring the television program playing.

The last night she’d shared with Dean was heavy on her mind the past couple weeks. She recalled their reckless behavior and how frantic they’d been to make memories to hold onto. Both of them had shrugged off the condom breaking and carried on with their plans. They’d ignored the real possibility of future consequences.

Jo had been naïve in thinking it could never happen to her. Naïve, stupid, silly. She’d been calling herself those words as fear clenched her gut and she prayed daily for what she knew wasn’t coming. She was later than late and it was time to admit it.

The door opened, Ellen stepping inside. She was carrying a large paper sack bearing the logo of the chain family restaurant down the street. Jo smelled chicken as Ellen set the sack down on the table in the corner.

“No mail. I keep expecting something. Surely Cas couldn’t have lasted more than a couple weeks in the shape he was in?”

Jo didn’t answer. She’d assumed that as well, but here they were, a month and a half after leaving Bobby’s house with no word of any kind. It had taken Jo a week to reach Ellen, during which time Ellen had set up a PO Box and sent word to the box number Dean had given them.

Ellen unpacked the food.

She moved to sit on the edge of the bed. “Mom?”

“Yeah, Jo?”

“I think….” She touched her stomach.

Ellen paused in setting one plastic container down. “Spit it out, sweetie.”

“I think I’m pregnant.” The words were easier to say than she’d thought they’d be.

Her head turned and she stared at Jo, her attention slowly lowering to Jo’s stomach. Her lips parted and she drew in a sharp breath before returning to her task.

“Mom?” Jo got up from the bed. “Say something.”

“What do you want me to say,” she said, carefully folding the sack and laying it aside. “What’s done is done. I know you wouldn’t have said anything unless you were sure, but we’ll get you a test tomorrow, then send a message to the boys to contact us as soon as possible.”

“If they haven’t killed him yet, it could be weeks. Months.”

“Then we’ll keep trying until they call or we find them. Now,” she sat, “come eat. If you are pregnant, you need to keep yourself and that baby in good health.”

She pulled out a chair across from Ellen and sat. “We tried to be careful.”

Ellen kept her attention on her plate as she cut her chicken into tiny pieces. “Careful doesn’t always work.”

They ate in silence, cleaned up in silence, and Jo was getting ready for bed when Ellen spoke again, five simple words.

“It will be okay, Jo.”

When Ellen went in to take a shower, Jo took Dean’s picture out. She touched it, whispered she loved him, and put it away in a safe place. It was a ritual she’d continue every night before she went to bed.

~~~~~~~~~~

Ellen stayed awake late into the night, long after Jo had fallen asleep. She cried silent tears for Jo and Dean both. She had a terrible feeling that this world emerging from what Castiel had shaped wasn’t the place for a baby. Had he increased Jo’s fertility after Ellen had told him not to? She wouldn’t put it past him to have done that, thinking he was doing something good. Jo’s life had gotten a million times harder and the only thing Ellen could do was try to protect her and the child until they found Dean again.

She bit her knuckle to keep from sobbing and made mental plans. There was still money available. Castiel had reinstated the accounts months ago and she’d used very little of it. They’d ration it like planned only with allowances for the baby. Hopefully, they’d get meet-up coordinates or a call soon.

Slowly, Ellen composed herself. Jo wouldn’t see her cry. Long ago, she’d determined that, no matter what was happening, Jo would never know just how scared Ellen was. She’d learned to cry when alone and muffle her sobs in order to be strong for Jo’s benefit. She’d do that again. Her daughter needed her to be strong.

Wiping her eyes, she went to bed.

In the morning, she’d get a pregnancy test for Jo before breakfast and if it was positive, Ellen would get her a doctor by afternoon. They’d send that message to Dean and maybe, like she’d told Jo, it would be okay.

Sleep claimed her.

~~~~~~~~~~

Lucifer stood over Sam while he slept. While he was little more than a ghost in this world, one that only Sam (and the occasional meddling psychic) could see, he did have access to look around, which was far more than he’d had his last stint in the cage.

What was real? Sam had debated that topic with himself over and over, attempting to discover if Lucifer was real or a hallucination. Each time he’d come close to the truth, Lucifer had allowed him to feel safe. He’d let the various pills work, lulling Sam, convincing him that there was no real danger and he was simply a figment of Sam’s mind, a tiny fragment of himself wandering around.

Lucifer toyed with him since Michael wouldn’t let him play with Adam. He enjoyed toying with Sam, making him think he was far crazier than he was.

He smiled to himself. He’d even managed to convince Sam that Michael had joined in on torturing him. Michael hadn’t, a serious stick in the mud. He could have taken his anger at Dean out on Sam and had refused, claiming now that he had no beef with Sam because Sam had been obedient. That was Michael’s criteria for lenience. Obedience. He said obeying was better than sacrifice and Sam had both obeyed and sacrificed.

Slowly, he sat on the edge of the bed, thinking about how he could be here in this ghost-like state. His connection into Sam was through his soul, a tiny little loophole in the whole deal. He could still be freed from the cage if Sam could be convinced to open their connection completely and let him back in. Sam’s soul was the back door to the cage.

He chuckled. Funny that Castiel, a former angel, hadn’t understood the danger, though he had been busy the past months. Perhaps he’d assumed the cage would sever that connection between angel and vessel once that connection was opened. It was a reasonable assumption considering the cage was a prison. Lucifer had assumed himself until one of his whispers had caused a reaction.

Death had tried to keep their connection under wraps behind that wall, but there Castiel had come, all arrogant and determined, blowing the wall down and opening up a way for Lucifer to whisper all he wanted into Sam’s mind. He’d have to thank Castiel for that when he got out.

Oh, the fun Lucifer had had on understanding that he could reach Sam; that while he was physically stuck in the cage again, he could project out to Sam and manipulate him. Good times.

His smile faded.

He was biding his time now. What was a few more months? Soon, the world and Sam would be ready and he’d ditch his prison for good. Let them try to put him back this time. The keys were gone, there was no one left in heaven to care, and Sam didn’t know how to close the connection between them into the cage when Lucifer didn’t want it severed. An angel could sever that connection, but a human couldn’t under normal circumstances. For Sam however, these weren’t normal circumstances. There was a way, a rather simple one really, but he was confident Sam would never think of it.

The ball was all in Sam’s court and Lucifer planned to do everything possible to make him do exactly what Lucifer wanted. Sam was going to reintegrate him. They’d been one once before and would again.

Soon, it’d be 2014 and the end could begin -- for real this time. Lucifer would rise once more and this time, he wouldn’t be defeated. He’d use the Purgatory demons Castiel had let out to purge humanity from the earth, then eliminate them as well.

It would be…perfection.

He let himself fade back down into the cage, where he dared Michael to try and stop him. What could Michael possibly do when Lucifer was the one with the connection to Sam?