Title: The Curse of Bittersweet Kisses
Chapter 29

~~~~~~~~~~

Castiel was alone in his cabin trying to decide if he should ask Mindy to come over for company when Dean knocked on the door. He let him in and waited for whatever was on Dean’s mind.

Dean didn’t waste time, resting his hands on his hips and saying, “Meg has found us, too.”

“No.” The word blurted out before he could stop it. Castiel felt cold all of a sudden. Crowley alone he could deal with. Crowley just wanted him dead. Meg, however…. Meg’s intentions towards him were vile on several levels, especially after he’d refused her. She’d make him wish he was dead and only kill him when she’d had her fun and was tired of him. He fully expected that to take months, perhaps over a year.

“She’s coming for Castiel, pretty much announced it to the world a couple days ago. Not sure what kind of army she’ll have with her. The attack could be any time, same as Crowley. I’m sort of hoping they’ll meet each other coming in and decide to beat each other bloody rather than come here. No love lost between them. It’s a possibility.”

“But not a probability.” He turned his back to Dean. “She’ll tear me apart.” He heard Dean take a few steps in his direction.

“Not if she think you’re Castiel and maybe willing to go with her to stop an attack.”

Bile rose up in the back of his throat and he choked it back. “Dean, I can’t. I can’t go with her. How can you --”

“Not asking you to actually go, Jimmy. Just play her. Make her think you’re Castiel and ready to get out of here and resume being a god to her priestess. Give her a token protest, draw her in. Maybe she won’t even come herself. Maybe she’ll send staff.”

“She’ll come.” He knew for a certainty she would so she could watch his face when he realized she had him trapped. Castiel sank down to sit on his bed. “He refused her crude and sexualized offers of an alliance once. She was furious.”

“You were awake then?” Dean circled around to his front.

He didn’t look up at Dean. “Yes. He was disgusted by her and, at the time, by himself as well. He knew he was dying and had begun to try to face the things he’d done to you all.”

“This is our chance to end her, Jimmy. We need to take it.”

While he saw the sense in taking action, he didn’t want to have to be the one to do it. “Does this plan of yours mean I’ll be alone to fight her?”

“Not entirely. I’ve got Jody, Morgan, Ellen, and most of the hunters here assigned to protect Jo and Beth. The rest to watch over the civilians. You’ve gotten some good practice these past months, so…Sam can watch your back, help you out if you need it.”

“You’re assigning the mentally unstable person to assist me? The one whose medication makes him slow to move, slow to speak, and not quite with it on a daily basis?” Raising his brows, he stared up at him. “I question your judgment on that, Dean. Or is it your intention to get rid of me one way or another?”

Dean crossed his arms. “I could have gotten rid of you at any time. I don’t need Meg as an excuse.”

The words chilled him even further. They indicated that perhaps Dean wasn’t as unaware of who he was as Castiel had thought. Castiel looked away. “I see.” But, if Dean was aware, why had he let him stay? Why hadn’t he killed him? Why? Those questions rose up and remained in his mind. Did Dean know more than he’d thought or was he reading things into Dean’s words that weren’t there?

“You’ve never objected to Sam as backup before,” Dean pointed out and was completely correct. Castiel had never objected once in the time Dean and Sam had called him ‘Jimmy’. “You’ve taken him on raids with you.”

“This is more dangerous than a raid I think. Meg will either abduct me or kill me. I don’t want either to occur. I’d prefer more backup than --”

He let loose a snort of laughter. “Relax. I’ll be around, making sure she’s headed in the right direction provided Crowley isn’t beating down our door, too.”

“And if he is?”

“Then you’d better be ready for her.”

He decided not to have Mindy over after all, spending the time in quiet contemplation of the past months. If Dean knew more, then some of their interactions these months took on new meanings, but if he didn’t and it had simply been a comment, then perhaps Castiel’s imagination would be his undoing and he should come clean now, whatever the price he’d pay.

~~~~~~~~~~

Four days after Beth was born, a cloud of black swirled towards the camp from the east.

Dean took a reflexive step back from the sight before heading to the front gate. The last cloud of black he’d seen had swept over his car and damn near totaled her. Had to be Crowley. A siren rang out, warning the camp of the impending arrival of the demon cloud. As he made his way towards the gate, he saw Jody and Morgan take up a place at the door to the infirmary. People hurried from the front of the camp, most going towards the dining hall where they were supposed to go while others went to posts agreed upon beforehand. Jimmy would be in his cabin waiting and watching and Sam nearby.

“Ready,” Dean asked into the walkie-talkie he’d been carrying constantly.

“Just tell me which plan to focus on,” Sam replied.

“As soon as I know.”

He discovered Crowley waiting, hands in his coat pockets and an expression of bored patience on his face.

“Looks like it’s the first one so far.” Dean slowed his pace, making the demon wait. “Crowley.”

“Nice fortress,” he drawled stepping up to the gate. “You know I’ll find the weakness in your fence, Dean. You couldn’t have gotten the entire camp surrounded. My demons will suss it out quickly.”

“Samuel Colt had the Devil’s Gate surrounded.”

“He had more resources than you do.” His brows rose a fraction. “Shall we save time and you just open up the gate for me right now?”

“I don’t think so. You’re going to have to work for this, Crowley.”

“I won’t do the work. I’ll let them.” He waved a hand at the black cloud in the sky.

“What’s this?” The voice and body were Constance Turco’s, the rest was Meg. She appeared in the middle of the road and sauntered slowly to the gate, approaching from the west. “Trying to nose in on my pick-up? Why am I not surprised? I’ll bet she went to you before she came to me.”

Crowley turned to watch her approach, face impassive. He neither confirmed or denied what Meg said.

Dean couldn’t believe the timing of it. “Miracles do happen,” he murmured. He itched to tell Sam.

“Meg,” Crowley acknowledged with a nod. “You’re looking a tad frazzled these days. So sorry I’ve been unable to accept your invitations for a meeting. I’ve been rather busy running my domain.”

“You don’t look so hot yourself. Been hiding in less than desirable places? Afraid to leave hell perhaps? Speaking of hell….” Her voice hardened on the next words. “What are you doing out of it? Earth is my domain now and you’re trespassing.”

“I have a child to snatch up. And you?”

“A former angel.”

“Castiel’s alive?” Crowley’s eyes narrowed the barest of fractions. Dean saw a flash of surprise in those eyes and knew in a second that Crowley would take Castiel along with Beth if he could. He had to be chomping at the bit to get revenge for how Castiel had hobbled him for awhile. “Here I’d thought he took a vacation like his daddy did.”

“So you didn’t know. He’s very much alive and powerless to fight.” Meg’s voice was gloating. “He’s mine. He owes me his tears, blood, and pain.”

Crowley shrugged as though unconcerned. “Have at him then, if you think you an handle him. However, I do believe that my child trumps your former angel because Castiel is nothing now to anyone. Except a few humans perhaps.” He slid his hands in his pockets. “You always did think small.”

Meg smiled. “Then how is it I have both Purgatory and earth?”

“You don’t have Purgatory.”

She snapped her fingers. A gray mist seeped from the ground outside the gate and fence until a cloud of it formed in the sky. The gray mist that formed was several times larger than the black cloud. “Bet on that?”

Crowley eyed them. “So what? I can go back to hell and get more of mine. You’re somewhat limited in your soldier of choice.”

“You mean that door you searched so hard to find that can only be opened once every so often? Don’t need it. Found another way in. I’ve got all the cards here, Crowley.”

“Impossible.”

“Control it. Access it. I can let out however many I want. Or put them back. It’s surprisingly easy once you know the steps. You took the hard way in. I found the easy way. Who’s the small thinker now…” she quirked a brow, “tailor? Always were inadequate, weren’t you?”

Rage played across Crowley’s features. “With your bumbling track record, I hardly believe you.”

“You should believe me. My monster demons trump your human demons. Have you figured out how to hurt mine, yet? They know how to hurt yours.” Meg placed her hands on her hips. “Let’s settle this once and for all, Crowley. Your demons against mine. Winner gets hell, the former angel, the child, and the child’s mother.”

Interesting how Meg was now adding Jo and Beth to that, like she thought it was a foregone conclusion that whoever won would take them and Jimmy, too. Castiel, rather.

“Winner gets everything. Hell, earth, Purgatory and the rest.”

“That winner would be me,” Meg taunted.

“We’ll see about that,” Crowley snarled.

The two clouds lowered and converged, a churning, roiling mass of gray and black that enclosed Crowley and Meg inside them.

Dean checked the gate. It was closed firmly.

The clouds slid into the woods across the road, heading away from the camp. Meg and Crowley were somewhere inside it. It looked like two large sacks whipping about each other in a strong wind. From the mass came eerie screams and hisses that made a shiver pass down Dean’s spine.

He raised the walkie-talkie. “Sam. Meg showed up, too, but she and Crowley are in the middle of a pissing match. Could be awhile.”

“Pissing match?”

“Her demons and his and the two of them in the middle somewhere.”

“Her demons? I thought Crowley had them all?”

“Apparently, she’s backed by Purgatory now.”

“Wonderful. That’s…just great.”

“Stand by.”

Five minutes passed, then ten. The cloud and mist continued to move away from the camp, finally disappearing from view entirely and, at half an hour, Dean slumped down into one of the chairs the guards at the gate used. He’d wait awhile longer, then sound a temporary all-clear. The demon winner would be back. It just depended on how long it took for there to be a winner. He wasn’t sure which would win. At one time, he would have put money on Meg, then Crowley, and now he wasn’t sure who had the edge. Could be either.

A little over an hour later, Meg’s slender figure strolled towards the gate, an almost cheery spring in her step.

Dean stood up and moved to the gate to meet her.

~~~~~~~~~~

It just figured that both Crowley and Meg would choose the day Sam was struggling the most with his medicine to arrive. His mind was fuzzy and staying on task was a Herculean undertaking. All Sam wanted to do was lie down and close his eyes.

He shifted position. One walkie-talkie was on one side of him, one on the other. Both were labeled so he knew at a glance which one was which. Slowly, Sam leaned his head back against the wall. Every muscle in his body seemed intent on dragging him down into sleep. He could barely keep his eyes open at all.

With a sigh, his eyes closed and he lost consciousness.

Sam.

Michael’s voice called to him. He knew now that it was Michael trying to communicate with him, but was it an echo from his past in the cage or a present attempt?

Another voice, much louder and guttural, intruded. He’s mine, brother. Why would he be able to hear you at all? He’ll always be mine.

He opened his eyes. He was standing in a bright room, utilitarian in design. Clean, no furniture, bare. Circular and with doors one by one lining the wall space. Some doors opened inward and other were the sort to slide into the wall, improbable really considering how tightly packed the doors were to each other.

He was barefoot, wearing jeans and a thin t-shirt.

I’m dreaming, Sam thought. When did I fall asleep? I can’t be asleep. I have to wake up.

Carefully, he moved to the closest doorway and peered through it. It led to a corridor with more doors, the corridor itself curving sharply to his left. Through one of those open doors, he saw himself as a small child. He was crying and wiping his face with his dusty hands. Dean was kneeling in front of him, carefully bandaging the nasty cut on his left knee. Around the cut a dark bruise was already forming. “It’ll be okay,” Dean said softly. “You did good, Sam. You did really good. When I learned I skinned up my elbows, too.”

He remembered that moment and what had come before it. Dean had lifted a bike from a house a short ways from the motel and brought it over to teach Sam to ride. After the cut was bandaged, he’d gotten Sam back on the bike and that day Sam had learned to ride a bike. He’d learned to ignore the pain and keep on going….

The hallway to the left became suddenly interesting and he turned away from his child self, watching brief snippets of his time at Stanford and with Jess. Sam moved from doorway to doorway, reliving moments he’d forgotten and others that were fresh. He saw Morgan’s flirtatious grin and Sarah Blake’s sweet smile.

Funny, he hadn’t thought about Sarah in a long time. He wondered how she was and if she was still alive.

A short hallway two-thirds of the way around the room yielded scenes from the camp. He saw Jo and Beth, Ellen, and others. The hallway beside it had images that were hazy and indistinct, like perhaps he’d been too young to hold on to them. If they were clearer, would he see the first images he’d ever had, those of his mother? Would he see his dad or would he see the demon standing over him polluting his body?

His steps slowed and he stood before the hallway he recognized. This one he’d seen before. The lights on the ceiling still buzzed and flickered and that door at the end still beckoned and frightened.

Sam gathered his courage. If there was ever anything that he had to face, it must be down this hallway since he kept seeing it. Whatever he was supposed to see was here somewhere.

As he stepped beneath the doorframe, standing half in and out of the hallway, he turned his head and paused, frowning. There were two walls. The first was where the doorframe was and would be part of the original round room. The second was blended to the wall of the main room, seamlessly so. If he hadn’t stopped and looked, he wouldn’t have noticed. The second wall was jagged at the opening edges.

This is the wall Death put up, he realized. This was the section Death had walled up for his own protection. He was standing on the very spot Castiel had pushed down.

Stretching out a hand, he touched one of those jagged edges and quickly yanked his hand back. His fingertips were bloody. That edge had cut him. Sam touched his fingers to his jeans, wiping the small drops of blood away. He stared down the hall, trying to regain his courage.

Rubble and dust appeared at his bare feet and in the hallway, remnants from Castiel’s attack on the wall. He also saw dark marks appear on the doors and walls, as if the blowing down of that wall had been fiery and scorched them.

No. The marks were going the wrong way. They were angled towards where he stood, not away from it. He touched one spot nearest him, finger coming away sooty. He sniffed at the greasy, grimy, black stuff on his finger. It had no smell.

Slowly, he stepped the rest of the way into the hallway. The air had a peculiar flat feel to it, like a house that had been shut up too long.

Sam.

There it was again. Michael’s voice. Sam cocked his head. Where was it coming from? It seemed to be coming from all angles.

His attention slid to that frightening door at the very end of the hall.

“Michael,” he asked.

All sound ceased. Sam hadn’t realized there were sounds present until there were none. The hairs on his arms and the back of his neck raised. He felt a stab of panic. His mind began screaming: something is coming, something is coming, something is coming….

The buzzing began, not that from the lights above in the ceiling, but louder and more insistent, screeching as a siren did. The pure malevolence in the air seemed to take the breath from him. Wings appeared, spreading out in front of him and Sam was tossed backwards, landing half in and half out of the hallway. Blood began to seep from the floor, the walls, and the ceiling, and he scrambled away from it.

A chuckle, low and menacing, sounded from the hallway, the lights winking out one by one. He wondered what would happen when the darkness reached him.

Sam jerked awake. His heart was pounding in his chest and he was drenched in sweat. The images remained with him and he felt like he was on the brink of understanding what Chuck kept telling him he had to see.

The walkie-talkie on his right squawked. “This is a bad idea.” It was Castiel’s voice and Sam blinked. He sounded so much like the Castiel of Team Free Will right there and Sam uttered a weak laugh. How well those words went with his feelings at present! Chuck had told him to see, but he still wasn’t sure if that was a good idea in the end.

The other one squawked as well. It was Dean. “Incoming, Sam. Get Jimmy ready to go.”

That meant Meg was the victor of the fight she’d had with Crowley. In a way, Sam was relieved it was her. “Will do,” he replied. Laying that one down, he wiped a hand across his brow. That hand was shaking. He picked up the walkie-talkie on his right.

“Sam? Are you there?” It was Jimmy, not Castiel. Couldn’t be Castiel.

“Yeah, Jimmy. I’m here. Sorry.” He shook his head. The medicine was messing with him.

“I really think this is a bad idea. One of the worst Dean has had.”

“It’s the only idea we had. You ready? Dean says she’s on her way.”

“I still don’t see why Dean couldn’t trap her and kill her at the gate,” he grumbled.

“Her reinforcements,” Sam reminded him. Dean’s plan was for Jimmy to make Meg think he was still Castiel and amenable to going with her. He was to lull her, get her in the trap painted under the threadbare rug on the floor, then kill her with the knife.

“I despise demons,” Jimmy replied.

“I think we all do. Good luck. I’ll be close.”

There was no reply.

Sam stood and looked through the blinds. Meg would have two ways to go. The infirmary or Jimmy’s cabin. They’d done their best to set it up that way.

She appeared minutes later, taking care to circle and study the small cabin before entering it. Sam waited a moment, then slipped from his hiding place, moving furtively towards Jimmy’s cabin.